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gguk-n · 2 months ago

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Chapter 2- The Rules of Pretending

A+ in Pretend Love (Lando Norris x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Pretending to be a couple. Pretending to be in love for the watching eyes. It's all pretend right. Even having dinner with the parents; it's all pretend right? Why would they like me? Sadly, I'm the only one in love.

Y/N's best friend, Becky, was on the other side of the video call, "every time you say that, my heart skips a beat" Becky sighed. "You think so lowly of me" Y/N groaned. "I'm thinking, whether it is felony or murder. The suspense is killing me" Becky prodded. "Well, I might've agreed to a contract and an NDA" Y/N said building the suspense. "Don't tell me you sold yourself for a visa" Becky sighed. "No, I'm fake dating Lando Norris" Y/N explained. "Who is he? Some old fart?" she quizzed. "No, he's a formula one driver" Y/N whined. "You lost me there" Becky squinted her eyes. "Why would he date you?" she asked. "Who's best friend are you?" Y/N questioned. "Yours obviously but I have to cover all the bases." Becky laughed. "What do you get out of this?" she asked. "Visa renewal and money for my time" Y/N said. "So....You're a sugar baby" Becky nodded her head. "No..." Y/N trailed. "You are. If y'all bonk, charge more. That pussy expensive and smart" Becky pointed out. "This pussy is not. He's kind of hot" Y/N said. "Oh, this won't end well" Becky muttered which Y/N didn't catch.

Lando was kind enough to send Y/N the tickets to Silverstone and explain how they would leave the hotel together. The team had booked their rooms next to each other, so as to not draw too much suspicion.

Y/N was getting changed when she heard a knock on the door. She opened the door; "Hey" she smiled at Lando. "Hi" he smiled back a small blush on his face since she was stood in her towel. "You're in a towel" he pointed out. "We're getting married" she laughed showing her ring, "Not much to hide" she giggled. "I thought it was the room service" she explained. "You would've greeted room service like that" Lando asked shocked. "No, they leave the food at your door" Y/N said squinting her eyes. "We need to leave in 15" Lando said opening the door to leave. "But I'm still hungry" she whined. "I'll buy you something on the way" Lando suggested, closing the door.

Y/N was ready, 5 minutes before they were supposed to leave and the hotel forgot her food. "I think you should complain, I didn't get my food" Y/N said pointing her finger at the ceiling. "I'll do that" Lando laughed. They got something to eat while driving by and Y/N was sat there munching away while nodding along to the songs on the radio, Lando was stealing glances, smiling at the girl next to him.

He parked his car at the paddock. The media ready to snap pictures as he got out. Lando grabbed the extra sunglasses he had got out. As soon as Y/N stepped out of the car, the flashes went off. Lando slipped his shades on her and guided her to McLaren with his hand on her lower back. Y/N's heart was beating, at first she thought it was the bright flashes or the adrenaline but she realised that it was actually Lando's hand on her back. The entire team greeted her warmly when they spotted her.

News had spread like wild fire that Lando had brought a girl with him, another Thursday in their books, but some people were talking about how she had a ring. The McLaren garage was adding fuel to the fire stating Lando brought his fiance.

The media forgot about any race related questions they had and started asking him about the mystery girl he brought. "So, Lando, I've heard you brought your girlfriend?" the interviewer asked tentatively. "Ah, Y/N, my fiance, yes" Lando smirked. "Fiance?" she stammered. "Yes, we got engaged recently. I just couldn't hide my love for her anymore" Lando gloated. "Congratulations" the interviewer was shocked. The rest of media day involved a lot more questions related to Y/N who was spending her time with Lily in the garage. Oscar had come around to the whole fake dating thing and Lily was quite welcoming to say the least. "You're famous, around the paddock" Oscar said returning from the media pen. "Guessed so." Y/N laughed. "There's my gorgeous fiance" Lando shouted wrapping his arms around her. Y/N's eyes fell on the group of men behind him. "Action" Lando whispered pulling away.

"Guys this is Y/N" Lando introduced her, "Y/N my fellow drivers, who I spend most of my time away from you with" Lando laughed. "It's nice to meet you guys." she said. "Can't believe you get to spend all this time with him" she pouted lacing their fingers together. "No no, he's all yours" they laughed before pulling him away. "Okay explain" Carlos cornered Lando. "What?" Lando asked confused. "Where did you produce a girlfriend from?" Max questioned. "I didn't produce any girlfriend" Lando shrugged. "We've been dating for 4 years" Lando said. "While you were sleeping around. She must be a saint then" George chided. "I would've dropped your ass if I was our girlfriend" Alex said shaking his head. "Well, you aren't" Lando humphed. "She's an angel and...and I love her" Lando stated puffing his chest out. "Well, if you do, we don't mind. Just don't you think you're rushing with the proposal" Carlos reasoned. "No, I'm happy" Lando said trying to sell their lie. "If you say so" Max shrugged leading everyone away.

Lando walked in, "What was that?" Y/N whispered. Lando took her to his driver's room. "They are shocked since I have a fiance with my womaniser ways" Lando explained. "Money. That's how" she laughed. Lando laughed along. "You'll meet my childhood friend Max Fewtrell too soon" Lando said grabbing water. "Can't wait" she chirped. "Also, why didn't you let them in on our secret?" she asked. "Other teams wouldn't let their drivers sign NDAs from another team Too much legal hassle Zak said" Lando replied nonchalantly.

Max was also so confused when Lando introduced his fiance who he had been dating for 4 years. Max thought back to all the times and he wasn't sure when he had the time to date anyone when they spent most of the time together either with work or just because but he shrugged it off since Lando said he was happy.

Even though Lando finished second that weekend, everyone's eyes were on him. The media recorded their interaction after he got out of the car and zoomed in when they hugged each other. "We're gonna have to sell it" Lando stated. She nodded and Lando pecked her lips. Later, "Sorry about that" Lando apologised to Y/N. "Hey, if we're gonna tell people we're getting married soon, a peck is nothing" she replied.

The next event they needed to be seen at was a McLaren sponsor's event, the people they were doing this whole charade for. Ever since Y/N had popped up in Lando's life, at least in the media's eyes; every news article about Lando was how he's going to get married soon or how smart his fiance was since she was in a Master's programme at University. People at her University, professor's included wanted to know about Lando when they news spread. This was doing wonders for Lando's image.

Lando called a couple days before the event, "Hey, Y/N. The dress code for the event is formal. Do you have anything? Or do you want to go shopping?" Lando spoke into the phone. "Are you paying?" she joked. "Obviously" Lando replied rolling his eyes but Y/N couldn't see. "I'll pick you up in an hour. This could count as our public date according to the contract" Lando stated waiting for the reply. "Okay" she replied and cut the call to dress up.

Lando showed up almost on time while Y/N rushed to get her stuff and exit her flat. The two of them sat in the car in silence, only breaking it to make small talk.

The shop they stopped at had almost extravagant clothes which made Y/N feel out of place. Lando walked around pointing at a few dresses for the sales rep to take away, "You should choose a few you like too and try them on. We'll buy the one we both can agree on" Lando told her. She quietly scanned the racks, trying not to look at the price tag too closely.

After a couple of dresses, Y/N stepped out in a satin deep green dress with a slit for her left leg to poke out. the dress was held by spaghetti straps. "What do you think? I think I love this" Y/N stated admiring herself in the wall length mirror. Lando's eyes were wide, if this was a cartoon they would be the shape of hearts. He couldn't look away, "You look" the words were stuck in his throat. "Hmm...whether you like it or not, I want this" she smiled brightly looking at him with her puppy eyes. Lando felt like he would melt into a puddle. He just nodded wordlessly and than paid for the dress.

For the event, they showed up together. All the sponsors happy to see Lando and Y/N who was basically an accessory on Lando's arm. "You're gonna have to give your best performance" Lando whispered in her ear. "Don't worry, I was in theatre" she smirked pecking his cheek as they entered the venue. Soon being dragged away by Zak. After all the formalities of meeting with the various sponsors and the soft glances and whispers the two shared to keep up the charade; they were now stood away from the crowd. "Lando, do you get tiny burgers at all these events?" she asked, her eyes glued to the tray of sliders on the waiter's hand. "Not all" he replied before looking where her eyes were wandering off to, "Do you want them?" he asked. "Yes please" she replied eagerly. She picked up a few and pushed one into her mouth, "tiny burgers" she stated with a big grin on her lips while looking at Lando as her cheeks puffed up while she tried to chew it discreetly. "Bring me more" she mumbled with her mouth full. Lando burst out laughing, "Do you love them so much?" he asked. "Yeah, they are tiny burgers" she stated with another mouth full of the slider. "By the way, I'm graduating next month, so you'll have to come since my whole university wants to meet you" she said gulping the slider down. "okay" Lando nodded. "My parents will be around, but you can slip away after the ceremony. You don't need to join the dinner or anything" she explained. Lando just nodded along, pulling her closer by her waist as the waiter with a tray full of champagne almost knocked into her. "Careful, sweetheart" he said while Y/N was flushed against his chest. She felt her heart beating in her chest, loud and clear, Lando's breath hot on her lips. The proximity wasn't helping her. He looked down and when their eyes met, she hiccuped pushing herself away. "Thanks" she mumbled clearly feeling hot.

On the day of the graduation, Lando met up with Y/N's parents who for a reason unknown to her too, introduced him as her fiance as if by reflex. Her dad was skeptical at first but Lando quickly grew on him. "Congratulations, darling" Lando said hugging Y/N and handing the bouquet he got. She took the flowers and put them away. "Mum and Dad, this is Lando, my fiance" she said as her eyes widened. "It's nice to meet you Mr and Mrs Y/L/N" Lando said, turning around to smirk at Y/N. "I didn't know you were dating someone" her mother asked shocked. "Ah yes, we've been together for a while, haha" she tried to laugh it off while her dad stared at him. At the ceremony, Lando was surrounded by everyone wanting to take pictures with him. He was the one cheering the loudest when Y/N was called on stage.

"So, I booked this place for the celebration dinner" Lando told Y/N's parents. Y/N looked at him shocked, "It wouldn't look nice if your fiance ditched you on your graduation day" he whispered pulling her along. The dinner finished without any hitch except for the fact that Y/N thought she would faint with how fast her heart was beating. Lando was no better, he couldn't stop thinking about her when he reached home.

After the graduation, they were seen on dates across the globe enjoying themselves and mandatory race appearances; giving them the opportunity to grow closer. Y/N and Lando were both falling for each other but too scared to tell anyone or each other in the fear of losing what they have.

After returning from another one of their weekend getaways, Y/N sat down next to Becky. "Becky, I'm fucked" she whined. Becky looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue; "I think I'm in love" she pouted. "Saw that coming from a mile away" Becky smirked. "What?" Y/N asked shocked. "Haven't you read romance novels with the fake dating trope, both the main leads are fake dating and they fall in love. At least in the novel you know they'll end up together, I have no clue about real life" she said patting her friend's back. "I'm sorry but with Lando's past, I don't see you in his future" Becky reasoned. "Don't say that" Y/N cried. "I'm being realistic. It's better to move on" she said. "But he's different and those news articles, they are exaggerated. He isn't a complete fuck boy in real life." Y/N reasoned. "Hey I know nothing but his fancy world has no place for people like us" she told her best friend. "Weren't you happy that you would be done with the relationship when your PHD programme started. Weren't you happy it got delayed so that you could focus on your career?" Becky cocked her head. "Yeah I was" Y/N slumped. "But he's different and I'm not sure how I'll let him go" Y/N sighed as tears formed in her eyes.

Back at Lando's place, things weren't any different. Max was gaming on Lando's PC when Lando caught his attention, "I think I'm in love with Y/N" Lando stated. "You better be, since you guys are engaged" Max chided pulling his headphones off. "But like I did a thing" Lando began. "Please don't tell me you cheated on her now" Max begged. "What? NO. WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?" Lando shouted. "Mate I'm talking from experience that when people say that they mean they did something bad. I'm not saying you did it though" Max tried to calm him down. "Actually" Lando sighed, "We aren't actually dating" Lando said. "What?" It was Max's turn to shout. "yeah, we started dating because of my PR image but I think I love her now" Lando groaned. "Tell her" Max said as if it was the easiest thing. "What?" Lando looked at him. "Tell her and if she likes you too, the two of you can actually get married" Max said as if stating the obvious. "I don't think she likes me like that" Lando mumbled.

Tag list- @gamesetmatch-me @seonghwaexile @yootvi @hadesnumber1daughter @khaylin27 @abq654 @plotpal @charlesgirl16 @inarabee @a-beaverhausen @hwalllllllelujah

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lalunanymph · 1 year ago

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who’s your (baby) daddy. [3]

╰┈➤ After being dumped by your boyfriend of 3 years, you decide to switch things up and go on your own version of a “hot girl summer”—subsequently finding yourself with a surprise that would arrive in 9 months time. The catch? You have absolutely no idea which of the men you slept with is your baby’s daddy.

𖨆♡𖨆 nanami x reader, gojou x reader, toji x reader, sukuna x reader

# mechanic!toji, explicit smut, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of babies, girlies fighting, mentions of food, toji is a deadbeat dad wbk minors and ageless blogs dni

‗ ❍ masterlist

You were never one to be this reckless.

All your life, you were raised by two strict parents who always taught you to look both ways before you crossed the roads, to always ask as many questions as you could and never take things at face value.

Growing up, you were defined as being ‘bossy’ by people around you, a term loosely thrown at any young girl who exhibited even a shred of backbone; the kind of treatment that a man would never get in this world.

And so, this perspective was what shaped you to be the best at what you did—to give your all, but to always be cautious in what you were giving away in the first place.

What your parents, school and life failed to teach you was to not believe in a handsome and charming man. For the day you met Fushiguro Toji was the day when that caution all went down the drain. Little did you know that a chance meeting with him would result in you fainting in the middle of an OBGYN’s room like one of those delicate princesses from cartoons you used to watch when you were younger, with that man being the first one to catch you before you jarred to the ground.

But, to get to the present, you had to first backtrack through the past.

It was a few weeks after that party in the Getos residence when you were given an assignment to go to the countryside—of all places—to interview an anonymous worker who wanted to spill on the conditions of his factory.

Mia had once told you that a good story was like a sandcastle—you could build and build it as much as you wanted from a variety of leads, but once the relevant people caught wind, they would descend upon that little sand house of evidence you built to knock it back to the ground. But, there was another thing those secretive higher-ups failed to recognize; how journalists always waited for the tide to recede before striking.

At that time, the case had been red-hot and you were the first one on the frontlines to catch it.

You had driven all the way towards the outskirts of Tokyo, towards the sleepy town of Kamakura—a journey of almost 2 hours with the traffic—where the worker would be waiting for you in a nondescript cafe to tell you his side of the story. Back then, you had no idea if you were already pregnant or if it had not happened just yet; all you recalled was how swelteringly hot it was.

The cafe offered a cool respite and you ducked under the awning, tightening your blazer around your shoulders. He was a short, flat-nosed man with a northern dialect who gestured too much that he almost knocked back your cup of coffee. Nonetheless, you did your job, hmming and ohhing when he divulged a new piece of mistreatment, only getting to the juicy parts half an hour into your conversation.

“And that's why the deal fell through.” You perked up and positioned your recorder closer to him, frowning.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes,” he enthused, “It was because of that near lawsuit. All the big guys were talking about it near the watercooler,” he puffed out his chest, mimicking the deep drawl of Kaizen’s top executive. “‘Those damn assholes—they always ruin everything. Told ya we shouldn’t have made a deal with those trigger-happy vultures’.”

“I see,” you furiously scribbled down his words verbatim.

He was happy to spill more about the company’s numerous HR violations, and you had literally gasped when you heard they were denying work VISAs to their immigrant workers. It all made your blood boil.

Towards the end of the interview, you bowed to him and he did the same, double and even triple checking that you would not mention his name in your piece. You made the solemn promise that you did not, and that he would be termed as an ‘anonymous whistleblower’.

The sun was already setting when you decided to drive back to Tokyo, and you reasoned that it would not take you long. That was before you drove over a nail, and your back tire exploded, causing you to swerve and hit the side of the road, your yell of fear giving way to the unbearable stillness of disbelief.

No fucking way.

You exhaled out a low groan and slammed your head to the steering wheel. Just fucking great. Here you were, stuck in the middle of god knows where on a stretch of road with nothing but a field of wildflowers as far as the eye could see. Miserably, you stared at the clock, watching the minutes slip by, stubbornly refusing to head out and check on your tire; maybe if you closed your eyes hard enough, you’d awake in your bed to find this all a horrible nightmare.

Fingers twitching, your first instinct was to call Kento.

But, reality set in and you remembered that he was no longer someone you could freely call. You no longer had the privilege to call him up whenever you wished, to hear his voice and how he sighed in defeat at your clumsiness but would always come to save you even if you never asked.

It wouldn’t hurt to call him just this once… wouldn’t it?

You had no idea which entity possessed you to reach for your phone. His number was always the first one on your contact list, where it rightfully belonged. But what if he blocked you? You shook those thoughts from your mind and focused on the dial tone.

Ring… ring… ring…

Your heart sank all the way to your stomach. Of course he would not pick up. It was a Friday evening and he was probably with another girl. Kento did not need you in his life any longer.

“Hello?”

Your voice caught at the back of your throat.

“Hello? Y/N?”

It’s incredible how someone’s voice had the ability to bring back a wave of memories. You closed your eyes and did not reply.

“Y/N? Hey—you okay?” Nanami was not a man who was easily concerned, having been around enough volatile situations at work to hone his veneer of apathy. But, the worry in his voice was unmistakable. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you hurt—?”

Suddenly, your common sense returned. You shouldn't have called him in the first place. Clicking the red button, you ended the call and sagged forward, clutching the phone in your hand and pressing it to your forehead. Idiot. You were such an idiot. Your cheeks were wet and you sniffed, wiping the back of your hand over your nose.

A familiar chord from a well-loved song played from the radio.

Living alone… I think of all the friends I've known… But when I dial the telephone… Nobody's home…

All by myself, you mouthed the song's lyrics, sinking back into your car seat. “Damn it,” you groaned and forced yourself to straighten, roughly pushing the button to cut the song off before you could faint from crying too much and dying of carbon monoxide poisoning. Silence descended upon you like a thick fog.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to spend the night here, you reasoned.

Skyscrapers and tall buildings were swapped out for thick trees and a lack of light pollution. Perhaps you could even see the stars tonight, something you had not done since you were a little girl. Perhaps—

A loud knock on your window jolted you from your reverie.

It was the bulk of a man and judging from his frame, he was huge.

You shrank back into your car seat, praying he did not see you. “I’m going to die, I’m going to die.” So this was how you were to meet your demise; murdered in the middle of a flower field. Did your insurance cover this? You really should have read the manual. In the throes of your thoughts, you hadn’t anticipated him moving to your window and tapping on it.

A squeak fell from your mouth and you cracked the window open slightly.

The face that greeted you took your breath away. Dark blue eyes that were closer to navy, inky black locks that fell across his forehead and a smirk on his scarred lips. Holy shit.

“Car trouble, miss?”

You meekly nodded and scanned down his impressive chest and abdomen. You wanted to tell yourself you were searching for a hint of a weapon, but that was a lie. God, how was his chest that defined under that tight black shirt?

Swallowing, you cracked the window wider and meekly nodded. “I t-think I ran over a nail.”

“Let me take a look,” he offered and raised a thumb towards the front of the road. “I have a workshop nearby. I can fix it for ya. That good with ya?”

You were surprised to find a tow truck in your rearview mirror and gazed at him with wide eyes. “H-how did you know—?”

“I was driving past here and saw the flat tire,” he explained with that same infuriating smirk. “Thought I could try my luck and see who needed my help.”

Your answering laugh was hollow and you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting out of the car. This close, he was taller—almost towering over you and you felt like a rag doll next to him. Though he seemed nice enough, your guard was still up.

“Sure. That’d be great.”

At your words, he nodded towards the tow truck. “Get in the front. I’ll hook ‘er right up.” His jeans were covered with grease stains and his hands had the hard look of labor on them. Perhaps he was telling the truth. By now, the sun was slowly making its grand exit, the shades of night soon drawing close. There was no way you could drive back home in this state, not when your chest felt tight and you were terrified of driving in the dark.

You obediently followed and sat in the cracked passenger seat, fidgeting with your fingers. He got into the driver’s side and with his sheer size, his shoulder was almost brushing yours. He looked like one of those obnoxious gym bros but the way he carried himself was more subdued, a confidence that did not need to be compensated with flexing and Instagram likes. His vibe was unmatched and you found yourself easing around him.

He drove the tow truck forward and you observed his roughened but deft hands hitch the hook underside and secured it in place. In a matter of efficient minutes, he had done the job and hopped back in, the truck jerking to life.

“Wear your seatbelt.” You scrambled to click the buckle and continued fidgeting with the straps of your purse.

“So, where’d you come from?” he asked amicably and you glanced at him, startled that he was making conversation. “Ya look spooked, so I’m guessing not from here, eh?”

“No,” you murmured, “I’m from Tokyo.”

“What’s a city girl like you doing here?” A lilting teasing tone that made you wonder if he was holding back laughter at your state. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you shyly laced your fingers together.

“I was here for a business interview. I work at a newspaper publishing company.”

You had no idea why you were divulging this to him. For all you knew, he could’ve been an axe murderer who picked up women using this modus operandi and he was planning to take you back to his lair before chopping you up into pieces.

As if sensing you tense, he glanced at you. “The name’s Toji. Fushiguro Toji. What’s yours?”

“Y/N,” you said and did not give your last name. “Thanks for helping me, Fushiguro-san.”

“I ain’t doing this out of the goodness of my heart, doll,” he drawled and there was something in the wake of his mischievous smile. “I ain’t charity.”

Somehow, this prickly admission made you loosen and you found a smile on your face. “Honest. I like that.”

His laughter was low and almost smoky, which gave you the illusion that he was someone who smoked. The scenery flew past—rolling hills and miles of fields that sprawled out like a Van Gogh painting. Though you had never been much for the countryside, you could understand why city people regularly flocked to the safety of the greener pastures when the smog and fray got too much.

Ahead, a simple mechanic workshop attached to a double-storey home came into view. Toji carefully parked the tow truck and told you to wait inside. Those rippling muscular arms were put into good use when he physically pushed your car into the workshop, immediately getting to work.

He toiled under your curious stare. For someone of his build and burly strength, he was surprisingly nimble with the tools, and in what seemed like a whir of screwing, pumping and a lot of grunting, your car was fixed. By now, it was purely dark and you could barely make out the fields outside his windows and shivered to think of what could hide inconspicuously in those stalks of waving, tall grass.

“Okay, I’ve fixed your tire.”

You nearly jumped from your skin, momentarily forgetting that he was here with you.

“What’s wrong?”

Toji’s curiosity edged you to explain, not wanting him to get a wrong impression of why you had suddenly paled.

“It’s—uh… dark.”

“That tends to happen when night comes.” He was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of worry in his tone. Something about him—whether his presence or his unassuming dark blue eyes—made you blurt out the truth.

“I’m…” you twisted the keys in your fingers, stalling. “... do you know if there’s a motel nearby that I can bunk in for the night?”

He snorted. “You ‘fraid of driving in the night?”

When you didn’t reply, he got his answer. “Shit. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark?”

Wincing, you cleared your throat, adopting an air of sheepishness to ward off his judgement. “Yeah. I had a bad accident when I was younger; I tend to stay away from roads when there’s no sun.”

There was contemplation when he rapped his knuckles atop your car’s roof.

“You said Tokyo, right?”

“Yeah.”

Toji kissed his teeth and stared out of his workshop’s window. “Hmm. I have a spare room. You could crash there.”

You didn’t dare believe it. The cautious part of you—the one that looked twice before crossing any road—was screaming at you to not take him up on his offer. But the other part—the one that could not even bear to look out the window when driving past a pitch black road, shuddered at the thought of making the arduous journey back into the city.

Images of thieves, ghosts, scarecrows and even aliens flashed in your mind.

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he amended and you considered your options.

“You don’t mind?”

“If by not minding ya mean I won’t charge ya, then no,” he said, a tinge of amusement in his tone.

You couldn't’ help the grin that tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Okay. I’ll stay out of your way—it’s just for tonight.”

Toji nodded and swept one large hand in front of him, gesturing for you to follow. You did, staring at the broad muscles of his back and wondering how a guy in the countryside got this buff. But, it made sense; he was a mechanic and he seemed to work alone.

He fumbled with his keys before unlocking the door, letting you step in first. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Like his workshop, his home was bare and sparsely furnished. Everything had a use and everything was in its place; it seemed ordinary enough.

“This is… nice.”

“You think so?”

“There’s no axe hanging on the wall so I guess I have to count myself lucky.”

He laughed at your joke; a full-bodied, low sound that was pleasing to hear. Toji showed you to your room and even left you a spare towel and a set of old clothes that looked like it belonged to a woman—perhaps a girlfriend.

“Hey, you sure this person doesn’t mind me using her stuff?” you poked your head past the door to quip at him. Toji was halfway boiling some water and he flickered his gaze to you, shrugging.

“She’s not here.”

“Your girl?” you frowned, wondering if it was too late to refuse his offer despite how much the simple yet wide bed was beckoning you for rest.

“Ex,” he intoned from the kitchen. “Broken up months ago. She left some clothes here so might as well, eh?”

Pursing your lips, you decided not to push him too much on this. Rather, you shut the door, locking it for good measure before starting to undress. The hot water was a soothing salve on your sore muscles and you sighed, dunking your head under the stream and letting it wash your tiredness away.

You scrubbed your skin until it shone, washed your hair and even used some of his shampoo. Halfway through, the stream turned into a trickle and eventually, the water stopped altogether. Still with suds in your hair, you frowned and wrapped your towel around you.

“Hey, Toji?”

“Yeah?”

He sounded far away and from the distance, you could hear the commentary of a sports event or another humming low in the background.

“Your shower isn't working.”

“Seriously? Fuck—this dump always had plumbing problem.” His grumbling grew closer and if he found you disconcerting in just a towel, he didn’t comment on it, averting his eyes politely. Toji bent down to check the pipe, mumbling under his breath and you tried not to get too puddles on his flooring.

“Fuck!”

A jet of water seemed to explode around the both of you, drenching you and completely soaking him, your shriek echoing across the tiles. Toji blindly reached for the piping and twisted it, the water stopping and leaving the both of you blinking.

“Shit, you’re all wet.”

Toji groaned, scarred lips twisted into a frown. Uncaring that a stranger was right in front of him, he peeled his shirt from his glistening abdomen, tossing it onto the floor. You fought hard not to ogle at his defined muscles, preferring to drop your stare and find the cracks of your toes more interesting than this fine specimen of a man.

“Not exactly something a man wants to hear.”

“Not exactly something I envisioned telling a man in the first place.”

Your retort caught him off-guard and his gaze touched yours. Biting down on a smile, you had to stop yourself from laughing at how the strands of inky locks dripping down his chiselled features reminded you of a disgruntled dog.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not! Here—” you quickly passed him the smaller towel and he wiped the droplets from his face, his exacerbated annoyance making it hard not to burst out into peals of giggles. His annoyance was palpable and you reigned your reactions in, taking a step back to give him space, but it was a wrong move.

Your feet slipped on the slick floor and you squealed, heart dropping to your stomach as you lost your balance and jarred onto the floor.

“Y/N!”

Strong arms reached for you, holding you up and bringing you back to your feet. Your heart was hammering a mile a minute, your cheek pressed to his pecs as you steadied your breathing.

“Shit.”

“Y-you okay?” you were surprised to find a waver in his tone when he eyed your quickly scrambling form. You cursed and hitched the towel higher around your bare breasts.

“Y-yeah.”

The towel had slipped up and exposed the split of your thighs where a searing pain was spreading across your hip. You cursed and rubbed the bump, cursing under your breath, face twisted in pain.

“Shit—looks like it’s g’na bruise. Wait, I’ll get first aid.”

Toji gingerly let you go and left the bathroom. You hobbled out, mindful of your steps and collapsed onto the bed, still massaging the tender spot, your teeth clenched as the waves of pain ebbed and flowed around you.

He returned and found you on the bed, still alleviating the pain and burying your groans into the sheets. Gentle hands brushed yours aside and you jumped when you felt him prod the bruise.

“Ow!”

“Sorry—needed to see how bad it was.”

You whimpered when he rubbed some ointment onto the welt, his touch now softer than before. He barely gave you time to flinch away when he peeled your towel back further, the dark triangle between your legs peeking through, your modesty all but ruined in front of this gorgeous stranger.

His touch was soothing and instead of closing your eyes and enjoying it, you preferred to use humour as a tool of deflection to ward off the awkwardness that clung between the both of you like a film of grease. “Do you always bring women home to your shitty plumbing and give them near concussions?”

You winced when he placed a bandage over the injury; his snort of laughter both reeked of annoyance and amusement in one breath.

“Nope. You’re the first.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Despite meeting him for a short moment, you could tell that he had rolled his eyes. Once he patched you up and left you to dress, you took the chance to make amends and sought him out. He was seated at the dining table, dressed once more and nursing a mug of tea. Without asking, he reached for a spare cup and poured you a drink, asking without words to join him.

And you did, tentatively taking a seat opposite of him.

Understanding the fact that this night had already started off on a weird footing, you decided to lean into it rather than resist.

“So, Toji from Kamakura. What brings you here?”

He clicked his tongue, a sly grin in place. “Tryna unearth my deepest secrets already?”

You took a sip of the warm beverage, feeling its curls of comfort radiating deep in your chest. You had no idea why you were so adamant on telling yourself you were never one to be reckless when here you were, drinking from a stranger’s cup, staying under his roof and hoping to God he did not lace your tea with a roofie.

“Why? Afraid I’ll recognize your name?”

“Maybe you would.”

You couldn’t tell if he was serious and he let you ferment in your discomfort before breaking the tension with a snort.

“I was from Tokyo, too. Came from a rich but terrible family. Ran away when I was 17 and never looked back. You?”

Oh. You deflated a bit and shared with him a fleeting smile.

“My parents were accountants but I never took that route. Loved words more than numbers.”

He hummed. “So, you combined them both?”

“Well, you gotta appease your parents sometimes.”

“I get that.” You had a thought that no, he didn’t. Toji did not seem like a guy that played by anyone’s rules or games; he marched to the beat of his own damn drum as evident from the curling tattoos around his arm and the unusual scar across his lips.

Without thinking, you reached out and brushed the tips of your fingers lightly on his skin, admiring the pattern and swirls.

“I like the design. Was always thinking about getting a tattoo.”

“You should,” he said, voice gruff. But, he did not make a move to shift away from you.

“May I see more of it?” Your request was timid, and from the pause that vibrated between the both of you like the echoes of a gong, you would think he was going to refuse. But, Toji was proving to surprise you at every turn and pushed the sleeve of his black crew neck sweater up, revealing more of the distinct whorls that seemed to bloom from his tanned and scarred skin.

“Here.”

You traced one design lightly, unaware at how his breathing had turned ragged, not when you glanced up at him.

Those dark blues drowned you in their depths and you felt like you could not breathe.

“Toji—”

He leaned in, palm skimming your cheek. The air seemed to spark and burn like metal meeting metal and you found you wanted to discover if those flickers would catch aflame.

“You know… I never do this, but…”

He did not finish his sentence, not when you bridged the gap and pressed your lips to his. He tasted of chamomile and nicotine, and when his tongue dipped into the crevices of your mouth, cajoling yours into a sultry dance, you found you liked the weight of his unsaid words between your teeth.

Toji pulled back slightly, flickering his eyes back to your lips as if he could retrace them by memory alone.

“Do you wanna—”

“Yeah,” you tried to hide how heavily you were breathing but it was no use. Every rise and fall of your chest throbbed with the growing attraction you could not hide. “Want it.”

“Y/N—”

Proving to yourself that you were more reckless than you discredited yourself with, you clambered onto his lap, thighs pressed on either side of his hips, the shirt he gave you riding up slightly to reveal the soft flesh of your stomach.

Toji cupped your face in both of his palms, calloused thumbs brushing your cheekbones. He brought you forward, tipping you over to him and drinking from your lips once more, a desperate edge in his kisses this time. Your moans were swallowed by his infuriatingly soft kisses, that plush mouth like a flower blossoming under your lips, letting you shyly sampling the stain of nicotine on his tongue.

How could a mere kiss leave you panting like you had run a marathon? Whatever spell Toji casted on you, it worked and you fixed him with a half-lidded gaze. “More—please.”

You didn’t have to ask him twice. Putting those burly muscles to good use, Toji picked you up effortlessly, your bare thighs straddling his tapered waist as he took swift strides towards a room you haven't noticed—one hidden behind a wall. Keeping you still in his arms where you could feel every ripple of his defined muscles pressed against your body, you could not stop yourself from nibbling and sucking the salt off his neck, your moans clashing hotly on his sensitive skin.

A quick grunt, and your pajamas were ripped off your body, leaving you bare and spread for his eyes. Tonight, you threw away your preconceived worries about constantly being the cautious one and embraced the insanity. It seemed that Toji and you were on the same wavelength and he peeled off his tight black shirt off his frame, letting you ogle at just how ripped he was.

It was obscene how good he looked above you, and it seemed like your legs parted automatically for him to settle between them. Those dark blue eyes were riddled with lust, a smirk growing on his scarred lips—the same lips that made their way down the column of your throat. There was no reason why you let out a lustful moan beyond the fact that every touch of his lips on your skin sent jolts of pleasure down your spine, going south to settle deeply in the centre of your body; your clit twitching when he tongued your nipples.

There was no gentleness when he flipped you over to your hands and knees, your face pushed into the woolen blankets that smelled musky and almost soapy—exactly like how Toji smelled like. Imbued with the scent of him that seemed to saturate your every pore and the feel of his lips on your neck, the hot press of his calloused fingers mapping a straight line down your back like he was tracing the spine of a book.

Like a well-loved story, you unfurled yourself for him, letting him pinch your nipples and teasingly run his cock through your soaked folds. Heavy breathing filled the space between the both of you, curling around like thick smoke, choking you back with the pressure of his cockhead slowly splitting you open.

“Fuck. You’re so tight.”

You scrambled to hold onto reality; it had been far too long since you felt a cock this good in you. “Toji—ngh!”

It was dawning on you how much of an enigma Toji truly was—he fucked you like you were nothing but a whore, ramming his hips against yours, palming your breasts and slapping the plush flesh. But there was a softness in how he placed hot, open mouth kisses down your neck that made your toes curl, how those same rough palms ran down your sides, the callouses rasping against your skin leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

With his larger build, it was easy for him to bear down on you, press your entire frame to his bed and manoeuvre you however he wanted. Those same coarse fingers touched your clit, rubbing tight circles on it, leaving pangs of pleasure that got you clenching down on his cock. Tips of his inky locks brushed your shoulder and you gasped when he bit down on your pulse point, that sudden sharp burst of pain getting you threateningly close to the edge.

The slick feeling of his precum staining your thighs and your juices barely gave his cock any friction and restraint from reaching all the way to the neck of your cervix.

“God—Toji!” you cried and pressed one palm onto your lower stomach, eyes growing wide at how you could feel him there. “C-can feel you so deep.”

“Yeah—I’m all the way here, beautiful?” he draped his larger palm on yours, grunting when your soft mewls touched the shell of his ear, the pleasure growing too much for both of you to hold back. Like a tidal wave, your orgasm was building, reaching massive heights and you were half afraid to come down.

“Toji—!”

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Go ahead and mess up my cock.” One strong arm wrapped around you and pressed you tight to his defined chest. “I’ll be here to catch you, baby.”

“Condom!” you gasped and patted his hand to let you go. Rather than letting you out of his sight, Toji lifted you up, twisting you so that your tits were pressed to his chest and all you could do to not let your bum slam to the ground was to keep your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Where?” he grunted. Your head was growing lighter—Toji was literally dragging you up and down his cock as he walked, strong enough to keep fucking you without a break.

“My room,” you squealed and he brought you to a different spot; you had never been this fast in your life to rummage through your purse and reach for a packet, ripping the silver square in haste and letting him pull out long enough to cover his lewdly shiny cock with the rubber.

Taking over from where you both left off, Toji slammed you against the wall, his scarred mouth to your eye level and you tipped your head up, your legs helplessly shaking in the air. There was no doubt your arms would be sore tomorrow, your core all but bent in half to take his thick girth into your creamy depths.

“Toji, Toji—”

“Cum for me, doll. Cum for me.”

Who were you to deny him, especially when he snarled at you to give in and flood his cock.

Your release broke with a vengeance and you screamed out his name, hips canting madly to milk his cock, feeling his seed dripping down your thighs. You were too tired to even complain when he sat you down on the bed and removed the condom, splatters of white droplets painting your lower belly.

“Mhm—Toji...”

“Go to sleep,” he reassured, “I’ll get cleaned up and join you.”

But, you were out before he could even fulfill his promise and as he returned back into the guest room to find you completely out cold, he had to smile. Getting in next to you,Toji leaned over and clicked off the light switch, the room drenched in darkness and the soft whistles of your snores.

“Goodnight, Y/N from Tokyo,” he whispered as he pulled up the quilt to your chin, hiding your naked body from his sight to give you some semblance of decency. He was unsure of how you would react the next morning when you woke up… or god forbid when you found out the truth about him.

But, Toji did not let those thoughts ruin the glow of his post-orgasm bliss.

If there was one thing Toji was certain about, it would be this—there truly was not another woman like you for miles around him in this sleepy down.

Sunlight tickled your eyes and you pried open your lids, finding yourself pressed close to another warm body.

The memories of last night came back with stunning clarity and your cheeks were warmer than a sun-drenched rock, disbelief in yourself for how you had given yourself completely to this stranger. A handsome stranger, but regardless, he was still someone you didn't know very well.

“Morning.” Crap—the hot stranger was awake.

You did not respond, scrunching your eyes close tightly in hopes he would believe you were still asleep and did not force you to go through with this awkwardness.

“Your snores stopped—I know you’re awake, Y/N.”

Deciding that you could not delay the inevitable, you pried your eyes open to fix him with a sheepish smile. “Morning,” you croaked, stale breath making you wince. But Toji did not pay any mind to these natural occurrences and offered you a small smile.

“Gonna take a shower.”

You hummed, peeling your sticky, naked body out of his embrace. “Don’t bump your head.”

“Ha—fucking—ha.” You watched the ripped curve of his back leave the bed and forced your eyes to tear away from literally ogling at him and risking being called a pervert this early in the morning.

You laid in the wide bed, stretching your arms overhead and enjoying the thrill of birds outside the window. Something about the country seemed charming enough and you briefly allowed yourself to muse how your life would be if you were to leave the city and start a new life away from the fog, the noise pollution, the memory of Kento on every street you walked on—

The loud ring of the doorbell jolted you from your musings, wondering if you would go get it. You reasoned that this was Toji’s home and he should be the one to answer it, but the rapid stream of water that echoed from the bathroom reminded you that he was currently occupied.

Another grating ring and you stifled a groan, standing up on shaky legs and picking up your pyjama top from last night. Toji’s old shirt was large enough to fall to your thighs, giving you at least a semblance of decency. You staggered to the door, unlatching it only to come face to face with a pair of brown eyes that widened at the sight of you.

The woman at the other end blinked once, twice, and then raked her gaze up and down your barely dressed form, a sudden flash of anger in her eyes.

“Who are you—?”

“You slut!” she screamed and pushed past you, wild dark hair mimicking the storm in her almost black gaze. “Where is he? Is he here?”

“Whoa—“ you stumbled back, surprised at her rage, “Who are you?”

Nothing you did could prepare you for her next words. “I’m his girlfriend.”

“W-what?” Through this sudden flash of realisation, you failed to notice the little boy clinging to her leg.

“He was supposed to be watching his son today.”

Her words didn’t seem to make sense. A son? But the longer you looked at him, you couldn’t deny it. There he was, standing wide-eyed, a full carbon copy of the man you slept with last night. Your stomach sank like you had swallowed a stone.

Bracing all her anger into her raised voice, she bellowed, “Toji!”

At this altercation, the dark-haired man came staggering out of the bathroom in nothing but his towel, flabbergasted at the sight of her.

“Shit—Mira.”

“You gonna explain this to me?” Jabbing her finger in your direction, you couldn’t help but feel as though she was disgustingly pointing out at a bug she had accidentally squashed under her old sneakers.

Toji flitted his gaze from your shocked expression to her fuming one and furrowed his brow. “There’s nothing to explain.”

“Who is she?!”

“Just some rando—ow—hey!” Mira had raised her hand to slap him, and you gasped, hand flying to your mouth at her audacity.

“You’re such an asshole, Fushiguro. You didn’t send me any money last month—”

Toji rubbed his cheek and growled at her. “I told’ya! I was running low—”

“So you’re resorting to fucking your customers, now?” Hurting worse than her blinding slap was her sudden accusation that all but threw your dignity under the bus.

Right. Of course. You were just his customer; last night didn't mean anything, definitely not to Toji.

Despite the fact that none of this was making any sense, you swallowed the bile you wanted to hurl at her. If this was his girlfriend, why was she speaking as though she was a spurned wife?

But, you decided you had intruded enough. Not only were they bickering in broad daylight with raised voices, but they were doing it in front of their son who could only glance back and forth at his mama and papa with wide, hurt-filled blue eyes.

Stepping back into the room, it seemed that they both did not notice you until you stood before them with your purse in hand. Fishing inside your wallet, you produced a substantial amount of money and passed it to Toji.

“Here—the money you need.”

As if he were stepping out from a nightmare, the burly man blinked and gingerly took the cash. “Y/N—wait.”

You paused, waiting for him to struggle with his words. Mira was nowhere to be seen, the world growing smaller to encompass your cold fury and this stammering man before you.

“I can explain. Mira is not my wife, she’s just my ex who’s taking care of Megumi. My real wife died a long time ago.”

You sighed, rubbing your aching temple. “Toji, I don’t—argh!”

Something cold and faintly smelling of cream collided with your cheek and you touched your face, pulling your hand back to find it covered with whipped cream. You were confronted by the sight of Mira—her chest heaving, face red and holding that incriminatory can in one hand, a mad gleam in her eye.

“You crazy bitch!” you yelled, swiping off a glob of cream that threatened to glop into your eye, fixing her with an incredulous stare.

“Get out!”

“Mira—” Toji was about to stop her when he got pied in the face with another spray, this one landing right in his mouth and making him choke on his next words.

“I was gonna!” The anger and indignancy rose in you and you have never felt this humiliated in your life; cream in your hair, cheeks burning and your pride smashed into a million pieces.

This is what you get for fucking random men, Y/N.

“Mira—stop. Y/N—”

You stepped back, raising your hand, about to smack the can out of her grasp when she jettisoned you with another stream of cold cream. Having had enough, you wrenched the can out of her hands and gave her a taste of her own medicine—literally and figuratively. She sputtered out a mouthful of that sweet cream and launched into a mad tirade, about to lunge at you before Toji ransomed her into his unyielding arms.

“Guh—bitch!”

“My hair!” you screeched. “You ruined my hair you fucking batshit insane bitch!”

Wiping the last glob of cream and shaking off the flecks onto the floor, you threw her a glare so unnerving that even Toji flinched.

In a voice colder than Arctic ice, you turned your anger to the tall, deceptive man who winced at the sight of more cream dripping down onto the large shirt he had borrowed you.

“Goodbye, Toji.”

Despite how badly you wanted to walk out with your dignity intact, it was undeniable that a half-naked woman covered with cream was about as dignified as a drunk person who shat their pants in a club.

You scuttled past the small, wide-eyed boy in nothing but his father’s shirt, whipped cream dripping down your chin and your burning cheeks.

“Papa, why is she not wearing any clothes?” That innocent question was the last straw and you quickly closed the door behind you, trying and failing to bite down on your groan of shame.

The last thing you heard as you hightailed it to your car was Mira’s condescending,

“I don’t get paid enough to deal with your disgusting ass, Toji.”

You came back to the present, rousing to consciousness on the hard examination bed to find three men staring at you in blatant concern.

One of them—the one who had seen you butt naked and covered with whipped cream (but not in a sexual way), was gazing down with barely concealed disbelief.

Toji was the one who first broke the silence. “Y/N?”

Sukuna was less delicate, getting to the bone of things. “Why didn't you tell us you were pregnant?”

But, you couldn't speak up, vocal cords ransomed by fear.

“So, you don’t know which one is the father?” Gojo. His piercing cerulean eyes were filled with an unnamed emotion.

In the end, it was Shoko who broke the tension by muttering, “I can take some samples from each of you and run it with Y/N’s amniotic fluid.”

Before you could speak, or even give a rousing reasoning as to why this was important not just for you, but for the baby, Sukuna scoffed and stepped back, his arms crossed.

“Count me out.”

You swallowed down on your mortification and turned your wide gaze to the tattooed man who looked like he would rather be suffering in the pits of hell than stay for one more second in this crowded, overstuffed room full of potential fathers.

“Sukuna—”

“Yeah, me, too. I already have a kid. I ain’t gonna pay for this one, too.”

It hurt that they were not willing to even take an hour out of their day to help you find out the truth; that they would discard you just like that—like you didn’t even mean much to them in the first place.

To your surprise, it was Gojo who was trying to convince the dark-haired man to stay. “Toji—”

Finding your voice, you glared at the two men who were the personification of a dog with its tail between its legs. One quick blow and you’re positive the both of them would’ve folded like they were a house of cards.

“This isn’t about us anymore, okay!”

You softened your tone, imploring them to understand. “At least just take the test. Please. We have to think about the baby—regardless of who it belongs to and until the test is ready, don’t you want to at least know the child?”

None of them spoke, too stunned by your outburst. Toji cleared his throat and shook his head, about to retort when Ieiri supplied softly: “It’s a girl.”

There was a collective sharp inhale from each man.

This time, it was Sukuna who exhaled. “A girl? Damn.” The rosy-haired man’s musing fell on deaf ears for the others, but not on yours. You heard him crystal clear. “I’ve always wanted a girl…”

“A baby girl, eh? Guess we have to show a good role model.” Satoru winked at you and this tiny show of acceptance warmed your heart that had long gone cold from the previously hostile interaction.

However, the atmosphere in the room came crashing down again when Toji scoffed. “You both can do that. I’m out.”

There was nothing you could say to convince him. This time, you let the tall, dark-haired man go; thinking it was useless to hinder someone who didn’t even want to be there in the first place.

You had thought that Sukuna would stay to at least provide his sample, but he sighed and turned towards the door, following Toji's heels.

“If you would please excuse me.”

It was just you and Gojo left in the OB GYN room.

You turned your dulled gaze to him, gently pressing your palm to your stomach where your baby girl was currently growing. With a jaded sigh, you asked him, “Don’t you want to leave, too?”

Proving that he was a bag full of surprises, the white-haired CEO snorted. “Nah. That baby girl may be mine and I wanna be there for her.” Twinkling cerulean eyes filled you with hope for the first time during this long day. “Besides, you said it yourself—this is not about us. It’s about her.”

His words melted your heart and you were grateful that even if no one would be there for you, at least Gojo would.

“Thank you… Satoru.”

— reblogs and feedback are very much loved <3

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen au #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #jjk smut #jjk toji #jjk gojo #jjk sukuna #jjk nanami #series: who's your (baby) daddy #🦢 writes

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sgiandubh · 2 months ago

Note

Wonder if Sam will take his new legal American bride to Italy? He will be married, although unlike Caitriona's it will be a fake marriage, by 31 Dec. He needs the residency.

Dear Married Anon,

Three possibilities on this one: a) you watched 90 Days Fiancé for way too long and with no attention to details; b) you think I am an idiot, with no legal knowledge or experience; c) you are an idiot, with no legal knowledge or experience.

Your question comes with two strong biases, too: a) that you somehow are privy to such nonsense and b) the old & stale fake vs. organic marriage refrain, regarding C (that, by the way, proves that I did hit a nerve).

I am not very sure to whom exactly do you think you are talking, here. But if I do know one thing is that you, honey, are a Mighty Twat. If you wanted to be consistent with the crap the Gay Crowd spreads around, you could have gone for 'he needs a more solid/credible beard than that', instead of the completely inane 'he needs the residency'. What is he, Burmese? Oh, FFS. And by 'Burmese', I mean exactly this: are his life/personal safety in clear and present danger, in his home country, because of his ethnicity and/or political views? The answer is no, and he could still use his right of asylum. Does he need the US residency in order to secure a better paid job for himself? The answer is no: lots of other avenues can be explored and are routinely being used by thousands of foreign actors/performing artists, in order to legally work and reside in the US. I have even mentioned it before:

(Full October 2023 post, here: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/729979831079649280/mordor-says-he-returned-only-for-visa-reasons)

But let's suppose even a nanoshred of what you wrote could technically be correct. When you are an US citizen and you want to bring your significant other to live with you there, you basically are offered two options:

Scenario One: you want to bring your fiancé(e) to the US and get married there. You will need the K-1 visa, as anyone even remotely familiar with that reality show I mentioned knows. That doesn't exactly click with a hastily cobbled 'new American bride' he would marry until December 31 and this is why, according to the US Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) own website:

[Source, LOL: https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/guides/A2en.pdf]

'You have met each other in person within 2 years before you file this petition'. Who is it, then? The whore? She is French. The chatty influencer? She's 'so over him' (FFS, LOL). Alice 'he's mine and will never be yours'' Panikian? If you think so, you are aff yer heid on cheap gin. Hm? Ashley Hearn? Met her too late and you all know it. A secret lover? ROFLMAO. And psst: Raya girls are just for fun, they don't think homestead. Cross my heart, Anon.

Current and official USCIS average processing time for fiancé petitions at their (logically) California Service Center is:

But it could be as long as 26 months and a half, if he decides to settle for a Vermont beauty (LOOOOOOOL).

You should also know a couple of other things, Anon. First thing is he will not be able to enter the US under the type of visa he currently more than probably holds, in order to do so - that would be a heavily punished immigration fraud:

Mhm. Restrictions on his ability to future immigration benefits/permanent residence, fine and imprisonment. I hope I do not need to further develop, on this one.

Last thing you should have taken into consideration before writing this bullshit is that the fiancé visa would restrict his ability to go back to his own home country during all the waiting time. Why would an actor refuse work opportunities in the UK or in Europe for the sake of a fake marriage, as you called it yourself? Oh, if you only had a brain!

Need I say more about the grueling in-person cross-check interviews ? You should watch a wonderful movie starring Gerard Depardieu (a pig alright, but he is perfect, in there) and Andie MacDowell: it's even called Green Card, LOL. Few things changed since 1990, and if anything, the screw got only tighter. Not to mention the fact he will be unable to work in the US during the waiting process and she will have to prove she can sponsor/provide for him! ROFLMAO.

Scenario Two: you get married abroad and want to bring your spouse to the US, afterwards. You will need to file the Form I-130 (Petition for Alien Relative):

[Source: https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/guides/A1en.pdf]

All this does, in reality, is put the spouse in line with thousands of other similar applicants. Residency will be granted only after extensive background checks and this is where I would like to stop for a while, Anon. You are with the Gay Crowd, right? Then how does this logically click with your long established talking point about his 'once very public gay life? Ah: he isn't gay? ROFLMAO. You see, being gay is a bit like being pregnant, Anon: you can't be 'just a little bit pregnant' and you certainly can't be 'just a little bit gay', either. Spare me the drivel 🙄. Kindly note those background checks are dead serious and could result in deportation - thought you should know, before you spew idiocies again.

Onwards with that residency thing:

If S were in Scotland/the UK when the 'legal fake bride' would file in the petition, he would not be allowed to come visit or work in the US: why would an actor be forced to turn down lucrative opportunities in Hollywood or elsewhere in the country, for the sake of bearding or circus only? And while S could technically apply for permanent resident status if he already were in the US at the time of the application for I-130, he would still not be able to work and therefore must be sponsored by the 'legal bride'. ROFLMAO, again.

I mean, this is so ridiculous I could cry. He would be invited to come to the US only after the petition is approved, which does not click with your suggested timeline and the seeming 'emergency situation' ('he NEEDS the residency', your ask shouts at the Entire Universe) . Why the haste? Just because you wanted to somehow shoehorn it in, somewhere before Inauguration Day? I have no words, but my paunch hurts with laughing right now.

Finally let's have a look at processing current times:

But it could go as long as...

I cannot stress enough that permanent residency will be granted only after the processing time is completed.

Why, oh, why would someone so inextricably complicate his entire existence in such an idiotic fashion, Anon? And finally, give me and yourself a break and read the damn political room, here, too. I will not elaborate, but I surely hope you do not live under a rock.

I rest my case, thank you, fuck off.

#anon #fandom #shitshow #legal #immigration #nonsense

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slutforpringles · 2 months ago

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Ricciardo is speaking to me from Baku (where he sensationally won from P17 in 2017), a week before what will be remembered as one of the most arcane and unceremonious dismissals in the history of the sport. And while it couldn't have happened to a nicer bloke, the repercussions of the decision - specifically, the way it was executed - affects the team,the sponsors, the fans, and F1 in its entirety. Somehow, Ricciardo gritted his teeth and smiled throughout the train wreck, departing with dignity, and in doing so left a legacy that will go unrivalled by drivers more accomplished in the sport - both past and present. You only have to go through the tribute posts from current and former F1 drivers, teams, commentators, celebrities, specialist media, and fans to see what sort of an impact he had, and what size pothole his lack of presence will leave on the grid. Ricciardo's eight grand prix wins ranks him equal 37th on the list of the most successful F1 drivers of all time, and redemption at Monaco in 2018 - after Red Bull fumbled his certain win in 2016 - will likely rank as his (and his fans') most satisfying victory. To put his career in perspective, only 15 per cent of all drivers who've competed in F1 have won a race. Of those, only five per cent have won eight or more races. It's fair to say, the Honey Badger is one of the best to ever do it, and he deserved a send off that reflected his success. For brands like Tudor, who organised my interview, they've lost a valuable asset. They may have even lost the very reason they committed to sponsoring the team in the first place - an affable, approachable, and highly respected marketing machine. An ambassador that everyone, including myself, is dying to meet. It's the reason every brand in Australia wants a piece of Ricciardo; he's impossible to dislike. After an enthusiastic discussion about Tudor's involvement with Visa Cash App RB, we move onto the Black Bay Ceramic "Blue" on his wrist. "They even did this custom flame strap for me," he beams as he lifts it up to the camera. It's greyish white and embossed with flames, like his headphones - and if it's a piece unique from Tudor, which one would assume it is, then it's going to be highly collectible. I ask questions about his McLaren exit and return to F1, the competitor in him, how he deals with pressure and maintaining mental clarity as a driver, but in hindsight, none of it matters anymore. Not until we arrive at life after Formula One.

The most obvious and undeniable proof we've had yet of just how last-minute and haphazard the decision was to replace Daniel after the Singapore GP. The team's big sponsors had no idea, Daniel had no idea, clearly even VCarb's team principals had no idea .... an absolute shitshow that resulted in Daniel being subjected to some of the most cruel and unfair treatment by the media and resulted in an exit completely unbefitting of his contributions and achievements over his career in Formula One.

Daniel Ricciardo: The Last Laugh | BH Magazine Volume Two (November 2024) | James Want (**if used please credit**)

#daniel ricciardo #dr3

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jaegeraether · 1 year ago

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 15)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (15)

Masterlist (other parts here)

The morning had been filled with more sex, desperate kisses and grabbing, biting and fucking. But it was more than just sex, much more, and they both knew it. It was the most expressive way that they could both show each other just how much they affected each other. How much they meant to each other. And damned if they weren’t going to use every second they had in their little happy bubble.

YFN had managed to convince Lucy that she’d be okay to go to the embassy alone. She knew Lucy had been neglecting her knee to spend time with her and was overdue for some recovery sessions. Lucy insisted on dropping her off regardless and left to do her physio.

YFN was nervous, but she had nothing to worry about. She met a nice man called Martin who looked over her case and listened to her explanations of what happened. He told her that complaints were common and that he didn’t agree with the system and how it operated. “This isn’t America. We aren’t ICE!” He’d said gruffly and they spoke a little about how it shouldn’t be so easy to make anonymous complaints of someone’s Visa when they were ‘clearly within the legal parameters of such Visa’. They had a good chat about him, his partner and his children, while he went through his paperwork. They spoke about her previous job and how her visit was going. He’d appreciated the mountain of evidence she’d brought, both self-researched and from Lucy’s lawyers. It turned out he was a huge football supporter -as she was realising that most of the UK were- and his daughter even played in the under 15s. He ducked away apologetically to confirm her character reference was who she said they were, and of course Ridley had answered the phone. He came back gushing over her, like everyone who met her did. An acquired taste, but very intelligent and loveable. He’d even apologised when he’d gotten back as the conversation went longer than expected – the effect Ridley had on people. Again, she wasn’t surprised.

Martin offered her Visa back, along with his number to call in case another complaint was made, or for any other future changes to her Visa.

YFN felt comfortable enough with him to ask about Visa’s for Europe as well as the possibility of working in the UK. They’d discussed the apparent lack of interviewers for women’s sport and again, he was eager. She showed him an example of the column she used to write in Australia which was very much open to whatever topic controversial enough for her to deem worthy of a column, and he moved around a few appointments to talk to her about her options. She had a few different options, but he guided her towards the sponsorship from a company. She needed to be guaranteed at least 6 months of work and the Visa was for 2 years with the ability to progress to other Visa’s past that. YFN hadn’t personally spoken to the company Katie and Caitlin had been speaking of, and she didn't mention them to Martin, but he seemed confident she would find work. She liked him, he seemed a lovely family man and exactly the type of person she’d needed to sort out the mess that had been made. Somehow, the horrible situation had turned out completely in her favour.

They parted ways, Martin again insisting that she use his number with any more Visa changes or questions, and she was excited to tell Lucy the news, and the possibility of staying around Europe for longer. She loved giving her good news.

She came out of the appointment after being there for a few hours and opened her phone. She immediately saw that Lucy had posted some pictures of her rehab session, including some boxing. YFN could feel her body heat at the sight, and she bit her lip. She liked the post, of course, and commented with a bicep emoji, and a face exhaling emoji. Lucy would know what she meant. She did, after all, have hickey’s on her biceps from their adventures over the past 24 hours, and she wasn’t apologetic about that at all. She was obsessed with her biceps and whenever she had a chance, they were always in her hands, or under her mouth. She found it hard to believe that this woman, Lucy Bronze, the jaw-droppingly sexy woman in those photo's, was her girlfriend, and had quite literally been inside her last night. And this morning. She caught her thoughts, biting her lip again.

She didn’t want to rush Lucy, and so she gave her a simple text saying she was out exploring London whenever she was finished, and to not rush. When she and Jordan were alone, she’d changed the time of the booking she had to 3pm, because she had no idea how long the Visa would take and regardless, she wanted Lucy to have a good amount of hours with her session.

Of course, Lucy called her almost immediately.

“I can com-”

“No, Luce. You stay.”

“But-”

“Luciiiia.” Unlike everyone else, she pronounced it as ‘Loo-chee-ah’, which she knew Lucy loved.

“I don’t like you out there alone with…”

“I know, love.” She said softer, repeating Lucy’s words from the night before. It filled her with butterflies, and she swore she could hear Lucy soften over the phone. “I’m happy to explore and I’ll stay around people. I’ll be fine, just please… please focus on your health and your knee. I’ll see you at 2:30, okay? I’ll message you where we can meet..”

Lucy wasn’t keen on the idea, but she reluctantly agreed.

For the first time, YFN found herself in the dead centre of London and although she wanted to enjoy herself, she always felt her eyes wandering around for those girls, and so she made sure to stay near people in case anything happened. Regardless, she tried to enjoy her day. She wandered around looking at shops and the old buildings in wonder, making sure to take photos for her Nan, and send a few to Lucy as a way of telling her she was okay. She sat in a park for a little while and read some of the book she’d brought, feeling the sun on her skin. It wasn’t as harsh as the sun in Australia, but it was just enough to cut through the breeze and keep her skin sun-kissed and warm.

When 2:30pm eventually came around, YFN was wandering to the spot she told Lucy to meet at, and there she was, standing outside, leaned up against her car, the most attractive human being on the planet. YFN could feel her body reacting, needing her. She was in shorts, of course, her knee strapped, and she was so goddamn tanned from Spain. Her ankles were crossed, as well as her arms and her biceps stretched her white Nike shirt. Just the outline of her body, those muscled thighs, biceps, shoulders, were sending her crazy and that was without mentioning her throat, or her jawline that could probably cut paper. She was scanning the park for YFN, her eyes looking in the opposite direction so she could better see that jawline and the features of her face. Having just been to training, she was without glasses and her face looked almost naked to her. She could brush her lips over each part of her face like she had last night, and it still wouldn’t be enough. As she got closer, Lucy spotted her, and that wide grin crossed her face. YFN sped up and jogged towards her for two reasons: 1) because she didn’t want Lucy to have to walk on her knee more than she had to and, 2) she couldn’t stand being apart from her a second longer. Her arms wrapped around her Lucy and they fell back into the car with a chuckle. Lucy’s arms around her were just as strong and needy as her own. Her head found its favourite place on her collarbone, forehead to her neck and she breathed her in. She smelled like vanilla and bitter orange. Lucy’s smell. The smell that was home to her now.

“God I missed you.” Lucy groaned, kissing YFN wherever she could reach. YFN giggled and tilted her head back, accepting all of the love.

“London is pretty… and I missed you more.”

“Impossible.” Lucy refused between kisses.

“Your post sent me wild..”

Lucy pulled back with a wide grin and flirty green eyes. “Oh, you liked it, did you? I was hoping you would..”

“I’m loving your boxing era.”

“Good thing it’s around to stay then. Best way to do cardio without straining my knee, plus, I’m really enjoying it. Building more muscle.” She flexed her bicep and YFN grinned.

"Well not the best way to do cardio..."

Lucy groaned.

YFN's hands glided their way up her back and shoulders, dipping over the muscles that she’d worked so hard for. She could feel herself getting wet and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“What are you doing?” Lucy asked, voice husky but curious.

“Calming myself down.” She said and took another breath.

“Why?”

“Because you’re the sexiest human being to ever exist and I’m trying to stop myself getting so excited.”

Lucy was silent until YFN had to open her eyes to look. Lucy’s expression was flirty, needy, in control, and horny. Her hands slid down YFN’s sides, over her waist, her hips, and found their way to her ass where they grabbed and began sliding back up her back, pressing them together.

“All mine.” Lucy growled in a way that said there was absolutely no arguing to be done as she crashed their lips together, pulling her against her body by her lower back. YFN returned the passion eagerly, one hand on the side of Lucy’s neck, the other at the back of her head. She was hers. Her body shuddered at the want, the need, the passion in which Lucy claimed her. Their tongues met and brushed each other teasing, while they gasped for breath.

YFN eventually found the strength to pull away first. “Public, Lucia…” she reminded her. Lucy grunted, still holding her tight, her lips brushing over her temple, her cheek, her jaw. When she started going for her throat, YFN had to give her another warning. She’d never had sex in public before but fuck, she was just about to if Lucy didn’t find the strength to stop.

Lucy groaned and pulled back, lips well kissed and breathing ragged. It was good to see that YFN had the same effect on Lucy as she did for her.

“How have I survived without you this long?” She asked, shaking her head, and YFN knew she wasn’t referring to the past 7 hours.

“I was just thinking the same thing…” She managed to regain her composure just a little and only due to the sound of people around them. “Ready for our second date?”

It was a rage room. Or so that’s all Lucy thought it was. She was kept in the dark from the moment YFN had said she’d plan the second date, right up to the point where they were in overalls and goggles, locked in a room with baseball bats and other weapons of choice. Lucy was pleasantly surprised, her face lighting up and her inner child bubbling to the surface.

“We’ve had a bit of a rough time lately…” YFN explained. “I figured we could get some stress out?”

And they did. Lucy was hesitant at first, not wanting to show her rage. But after YFN was more than willing to demonstrate her frustrations by taking an axe to the window of a car, Lucy let loose. And absolutely fucking destroyed the room. It started with a grin, it shifted to annoyance, then rage, then it simmered back down to pure fun. She’d needed this and didn’t even realise it.

After the room was destroyed and she thought she was done, she dropped the bat, panting. Suddenly she was hit in the neck, a wet substance exploding on her skin, splashing down onto her overalls and up onto her face. She still had a surprised look on her face as she turned towards her little Australian who had a devious look on hers. She had a bag slung over her shoulder, and she was tossing a paint balloon in her hand. Her favourite movie.

“You want me to be your Heath Ledger?” Lucy challenged.

YFN chuckled and threw another one, and Lucy the athlete was easily able to avoid it. Then she ran. Lucy dove for the other bag on the ground, tugging it over her shoulder as she chased her around the room. Her first red paint balloon smacked into her shoulder, and the next smacked a perfect blue target on her ass. They shouted and chased, teased, and tried to hide behind items. YFN was worried for Lucy’s knee, but it didn't seem to be a concern for the right back at all. As they were covered with different colours of the rainbow and running out of ammo, Lucy tackled her to the ground and they smashed their last balloons over each other before their lips crashed together. Their tongues met again, and Lucy groaned, grabbing the back of her thigh and pulling it up around her.

“Aaaaand time’s up folks!” A voice rang through the speakers as the door clicked.

The date had them both smiling so hard that their cheeks were sore and YFN felt happy knowing she’d chosen the right thing for their second date. They wiped off as much paint from each other as they could, but it was still caked in their hair, patching their faces and necks. They knew they wouldn’t be getting the colours out of their nails for days.

On the way home, they stopped by a pizza place that Jordan had suggested they try. YFN figured that the perfect end to the date would be a casual pizza takeaway at home with cuddles and blankets. Lucy was more than keen on the idea. She pulled up outside of the pizza restaurant and left the car running.

“I’ll go pick it up.” Lucy leant over and kissed YFN on the lips like they’d been together years. “I’ll just be a minute, little one.”

YFN’s cheeks flushed slightly, her little butterflies coming to life. Since she’d texted Lucy where she was, she hadn’t picked up her phone all night and it was such a good feeling. She loved being detached from it, especially lately when it had been causing so much stress. She enjoyed it so much that she’d used Lucy’s phone to place the pizza order on, not wanting to see her phone until tomorrow.

But apparently not even that could remove the problems that had inserted themselves so abruptly into her life. Still smiling, she looked out of Lucy’s window and saw two of them staring at her, pointing and yelling. Before she had time to process beyond shock, they were running across the road for the car. YFN panicked and leant over, slamming the door locks on. They grabbed at the door, trying to yank it open. YFN’s eyes were wide with shock as they smashed against the car, shouting abuse at her. She almost froze, and considered beeping the horn but she didn’t want Lucy to run out and be hurt by these maniacs. Then she made the mistake of turning to look out her window for her girlfriend and locked eyes with her. Kristie. She put her phone up to the window clearly showing YFN a photo of her and Lucy kissing when she'd picked her up at the park.

“I warned you, you fucking slut! She’s mine!” She yelled, pure hatred in her voice.

Kristie took a few steps back, her arm raising behind her. Then a brick shattered through the window and collided with her head. And then, black.

#lucy bronze #jordan nobbs #lucy bronze x reader #woso #engwnt #lionesses #lucy bronze imagine #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso soccer #england lionesses

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