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josephquinnswhore · 1 year

Note

Hi 🌸

What about a fic where reader is walking with Pedro and they are at the airport but they get swarmed with paparazzi. Everyone wants to talk with Pedro so the reader falls and the paparazzi start to push her around and he freaks out trying to find her 😩☺️

Breaking Point - pedro pascal x female reader

Summary: pedro looses his shit after you get hurt from paparazzi.

Word Count: 2k

Content Warning: paparazzi being assholes, reader gets hurt, slight panic attack, Pedro losing his shit.

Note: I FUCKING LOVE YOU ANON. TRULY. Anyway I’m gunna source Pedro’s rage from that video of him at the airport where he’s frustrated but make it 100 times worse lol. I cant believe people are actually requesting my fics, I love you guys.

It’s no secret that Pedro spends a lot of time in LA when he’s not at home in New York, snaps of him plastered on the internet for the world to see; exposing his location within the day of him arriving. Privacy wasn’t a luxury you could afford, especially after his upcoming fame after his role as Joel Miller in the last of us, paparazzi just seemed to be everywhere you went, no matter if you were ordering a coffee, driving to a family members house or even going to the gym. Pedro was often apologetic about the lack of privacy and how intrusive the paparazzi could be, your life has changed drastically since being with Pedro. It was hard to acclimate to, being followed and having hundreds of photos of your face and personal life plastered on the internet and magazines worldwide. You had put your big girl pants on and learnt to deal with it, Pedro admired your resilience, even though the paparazzi were moderately tame up until today.

Today was one of those instances where you and Pedro were on your way to LA, a frequency that had become a fortnightly occurrence, the airport was nearly empty, a few people floating around, you try not to draw to much attention to yourselves regardless as you pull your luggage behind you, the few people that occupied the airport seemingly recognising Pedro despite the cap and sunglasses in an attempt to hide his face. He never minded the fans approaching him, in fact he loved it, as long as they were polite he would entertain them, what he didn’t need however was for someone to post online that he was in the airport, much against your luck that’s what happened when a particular fan approaches the both of you.

“Oh my god Pedro! Could we get a photo please, I’m such a huge fan!” A young girl asks him, his attempt of a disguise obviously failed, Pedro offers a polite smile, “yeah of course, thank you for your support.” You step to the side while she takes a selfie, not wanting to intrude on her moment, “I can totally take a picture for you if you like?” You offer kindly. The girl smiles and is trembling as she hands you her phone, you snap a picture of them together, Pedro wearing a genuine smile, his tired pose captured in the image on the girls iPhone.

You hand the iPhone back to her and she thanks you both, speed walking back to her friend that had been left by the seating area, showing her phone and seemingly posting it to the internet. Within minutes your phone is buzzing from a text notification, Lux sending you a screenshot of the post on Twitter from the girl, in her excited high she exposed your location to the world; worse off the paparazzi. You try to prepare yourself for the shit storm bound to happen.

“This isn’t good.” You mumble to yourself, a loud sigh leaves your lips that catches Pedro’s attention. “What’s wrong honey?” You simply turn your phone to him, he squints through his sunglasses and exhales loudly. “This is going to turn to shit.” He looks around the airport as you walk toward where you’ll be boarding your plane, about to stick your luggage on the belt carousel when you hear shouting and clamouring heading in your direction, that didn’t take long. Pedro turns your body away from the audience as to give you some privacy from the invasive images being snapped of you. He wished just once that the way he touched you would be kept private, he gentle hand on your back, his lips on your temple, nothing seemed sacred between you and Pedro despised it.

“Pedro, Pedro! Look here!”

“Please here look! Just one picture.”

“Someone move the girl out of the way.”

The paparazzi were screaming over each other, pushing and shoving their way closer to you with every second. Their desperation to get a new picture of Pedro outweighed any morals they had, if they had any at all. You struggle to make out their sentences and demands as they rush you, pushing you a few steps back, separating you from Pedro as they surround him in a half circle as they scream at him, each trying to gain his attention for their news report.

You begin to panic once you’re separated, never having death with paparazzi that act like this before, the noise and clamouring becomes too much to handle, it’s easy to become overstimulated when the screaming overlaps each other and the noise becomes havoc, you try to squeeze between the gaps to get back to Pedro, reaching out to him as you try to get his attention, to no avail. Pedro is polite in the way he’s shielding his eyes from the blinding flash as he calls your name, asking them to move out of the way so he can find you, unable to see you past the swarm of strangers. “Pedro!” You call out, voice breathless and strained as you panic, you’d never been around paparazzi like this before. “Please move out of the way so we can get on with our day.” Pedro pleas.

One man shoved past you harshly, seeing the gap you occupied in order to get the perfect picture of Pedro once he had taken his sunglasses off. You trip backwards at the force of his shoulder barging you, stumbling over your luggage that’s pulled tightly behind your legs and as if in slow motion, it takes a few seconds to register the pain in your head as it smacks into the floor as you fall onto the cold tile.

“Baby! Oh my god look at what you people have done! Move out of my way!” Pedro tries to shove his way past in an effort to get to you, seeing you being brutally shoved to the ground, groaning in pain set a fire inside of him.

You grunt in pain as you cradle your head, the area hot to the touch where it met the cold floor, the throbbing spreads to your ears leaving a ringing noise to squeal through them. “Oh fuck,” you mutter which comes out slurred, your own voice sounds unrecognisable, unable to stop the room as it spins around you, the dizziness sets a nausea in you that climbs from your stomach to your throat.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people, have you got no dignity or respect?” Pedro snaps as he rushes towards you, seeing your face paler than normal and the pained look on your face as it scrunches. He kneels above you, your eyes seeing doubles as he comes into view. “Baby, are you okay?” His hand is cradling your head and one is waving in front of your eyes, you blink slowly, trying to gain a clearer view of your surroundings.

Pedro slowly helps you sit up, leaning against your luggage as the clicks of the camera are still shuddering throughout the ordeal, not caring that they’ve physically hurt you. Pedro’s face is red and a large vein in his neck and forehead begin bulging in his rage. “You fucking cockroaches, you did this to her. You can expect to hear from my lawyer for this stunt. Get that camera the fuck away from me.” Some of the men flinched, never seeing this side of Pedro. It was a first for you too; the indescribable rage he’d shown was a direct result of your injury at the hands of these people. The clicking and flashes of the camera finally stopped, your vertigo stops to a standstill and you’re brought back to your senses. “We’re sorry man, we just wanted some new pictures. I got a family to support you know.” The man who pushed you excused himself, the irritated tone didn’t go unnoticed, Pedro scoffs, “go and get a real fucking job. All you do is harass people it’s pathetic. Now get the fuck away from us before I call the police. You’re lucky I don’t beat your ass for this.”

“I’m sorry man, I can’t afford a lawsuit.” The man stutters as he realises Pedro is dead serious in his threat. Pedro helps you stand and you wobble on your feet, his arms hold you upright as he leads you away from the crowd. “I don’t give a fuck if you can afford it or not you spineless prick.”

“Come on baby, you need to get your head checked out.” The paparazzi that lingered snapped a few more shots of Pedro leading you to the front desk as they’re escorted out by security.

You’re sat down on a small chair, an EMT approaches you, kneeling down so you can see him.

“Hey, how’re you feeling? Heard you had a bit of a fall.” He starts, opening his medical pack as he observes you. “A fall? She was shoved by those heathens.”

“Its okay.” You turn to assure Pedro, but it was totally not fine, he just shakes his head at the way you’re still trying to make this out to be no big deal. “I think I’ll live. I still feel a little dizzy though.” The EMT takes out a torch, you blink harshly a few times as it blinds you, you try to adjust to the bright LED light. “Just follow this light for me. That’s it, now look up.” Your eyes follow the light lazily, seeing Pedro with a concerned expression on his face out of the corner of your eye, made you feel guilty for ruining his whole day.

“Your reaction is a bit sluggish. Just going to check your head now okay? Where does it hurt?” You nod and point to the area at the back of your head slightly to the left and wince as his gloved hands part your hair where the giant egg on your head was. Pedro’s hand sits on your knee, rubbing it to reassure and offer some support to you. The man gently prods the sore spot and you tense, holding your breath, a headache coming on at the sudden contact with the sore spot.

“It’s very possible you’ve got a concussion. I’d advise not getting on a flight until you’ve been cleared. It may take a few days.”

You sigh, “thank you for looking over me.”

“It’s no problem at all, look after yourselves,” the man farewells as he walks away. Your hands are aggressively rubbing your hands over your face in annoyance, you’ve just delayed Pedro’s flight and now you would have to stay home while he flies to LA for his interview.

“I’ll call a cab to get home, you should still go to LA. You can call me tonight once you land.” You offer weakly and Pedro frowns deeper, the stress lines on his face making him age a few years by the whole ordeal. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m leaving you here after that, concussion or not. I’m staying with you honey.”

Before you can protest Pedro hushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I can rebook the flight and reschedule the interview for next week. I need to be here to make sure you’re okay. Don’t ask me to leave without you.”

“Okay.” You accept which helps Pedro relax, his face red from where the stress lines had been a semi permanent fixture on his face. “Let’s get you home baby. Gotta make sure my girl is looked after.”

Pedro calls a cab outside the airport and helps you into the car, the taxi driver loads your luggage for you. “They’re going to point the narrative about you being awful. You know that right?” You look up at him through your lashes, Pedro scoffs, “let them, they can get fucked.”

He tucks your hair behind your ears and slips his fingers in between yours to hold your hand, a sincere look in his eyes, “no one fucks with my girl and gets away with it.”

#pedropascal #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x from reader #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal request #pedro pascal comfort #pedro pascal boyfriend

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lipglossanon · 1 year

Text

And Now For Something Completely Different

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

The Merchant x fem!reader (one shot)

Such a random thought I had and quickly wrote out while I made coffee lmao so have this total and complete one off from my normal 🫣 please don’t expect more from me 🤣 also have a screenshot I took cause I thought he looked cute 😉

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, unprotected sex, creampie, slight dirty talk? 😆

not proofread or even looked over lmao ✌️

Title pulled from Monty Python 😜

part ii

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“I’ve got something that might interest ya,” the strange man murmurs as you step up to the rickety table.

The purple flame‘s the only light source in the area casting strange shadows on the walls and across the man calling himself the merchant.

You pull out the few rubies you were able to scrounge out of some old barrel and hold them out to him, “Is this enough to get an upgrade and a first aid spray?”

His dark eyes look down at your palm and back up to your face, “Well no stranga, I can do one or the other, but I’m afraid it’s not enough cash for both.”

You slump in on yourself, exhaustion writ all over your features as you sigh, “I’ll take the first aid then.”

He hands you the aerosol can with one hand as you drop the rubies in his other.

“Thank you,” you smile at him, genuine and warm, “next time hopefully I can swing that handgun upgrade.”

He hums at you, watching underneath the hood as you pocket the first aid and double check your pockets to see if there’s anything else worth trading.

“I wonder if you might be interested in less acceptable means of trade?”

You attention moves from your pockets up to him leaning against the table, shadow looming into your space.

“Sure, I need all the help I can get.”

⊰❀⊱

“Oh oh my god,” you gasp, eyes rolling back as his cock bullies its way into your fluttering walls.

He has you pinned down, back on the table he set up, and legs parted as he fucks into your wet and willing pussy.

“What a lovely cunt,” he chuckles down at you, face still covered making you clamp down harder on his dick, “haven’t felt something this warm in a long time, stranger.”

“Mmm it s’good,” you whine, letting him push your knees up to your chest so he can plunge his cock in your pussy even deeper, “gonna make me cum so fast.”

“It’d be such a shame to end our fun so soon, love,” he groans, slowly rutting his fat cock into your clenching pussy and grinding against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt.

Your eyes flutter shut and he smacks your swollen clit with his hand making you writhe under him.

“W-what’re you—“ a keening mewl leaves your lips as he slaps your pudgy clit again.

“Behave, let me take my fill and I’ll give you what you need,” he laughs, “not a bad deal eh?”

You shake your head no as you gasp and moan. He rocks himself in and out of your pussy, never fully pulling out so you’re constantly stretched around his thick cock. The tip knocks against your cervix every time he bottoms out making you claw at his chest weakly, powerless as a kitten, too overwhelmed with pleasure to do anything but take it.

“Bigger is better or so they say. At least I thought so as a lad,” he huffs with a laugh, burying himself so deep that his tip is grinding against your womb making you wail and thrash under his heavy body.

“Shh, shh, you must take it, love,” he grits out, holding you down as he bruises your cervix, “let me give you what you need.”

“I-I need your mouth,” you gasp out, eyes wet with tears, “kiss me, please, sir, I—“

He yanks his mask down but before you get a good look a wet hungry mouth is kissing your greedily. One of his hands comes up to cover your eyes once he pulls back to catch his breath.

“Such a sweet little thing,” he noses at your cheek and you can feel the grin on his mouth, “calling me sir like I’m some posh gent.”

He licks across your jaw and his tongue feels—odd, tapered but before you can process anything else he’s licking into your mouth again.

You whine and suck on his tongue eagerly, rocking your hips down into his slow, punishing thrusts. You whimper when he pulls away and only quiet when he kisses you again, pressing his tongue deep into your mouth making you moan.

You can feel how different his tongue is compared to yours and it makes your pussy gush slick around his thrusting cock.

He pulls away with a hum of amusement, “You sure do enjoy that. Like my tongue, stranger? Like imagining it in other hot wet little holes?”

Your spine arches as you cry out, “O-oh god.”

He finally uncovers your eyes but his mask is back firmly in place. You look into his eyes and see the corners are crinkled as he laughs at you.

“Sorry to disappoint,” his hands shift down to your hips to pull you tighter to him, “but I’m pretty close to filling your lovely little cunt full.”

“Please,” you whine, hands scratching at the rough material of his cloak, “want it, please cum inside me.”

“Hell,” he groans, hips rabbiting into your squelching cunt making the table slide with his movements.

“Touch yourself,” he directs you, “play with that slippery clit for me, love.”

You quickly listen to him, fingers moving to circle the swollen bud until your thighs are tensing and toes curling as the band of arousal snaps in your belly.

“Fuck, I’m cumming oh—“ your back bows as you moan loudly, pussy milking his cock as he keeps fucking into your clenching walls.

“That’s it,” he grunts, snapping his hips even harder against you until he burrows himself deep in your pussy.

You feel the warmth of his hot cum paint your walls white as his dick fills you with rope after rope of sticky jizz. He yanks you even closer somehow as his cock kicks and throbs against your pulsing walls, tip spurting the last of his cum inside of you. You watch as he slowly pulls out, creamy slick and cum oozing from his drippy tip as it spills from your well used hole.

“I’d say that’s a deal well struck,” his eyes seem to gleam down at you as he helps you up to redress.

His cum is still oozing inside the gusset of your panties as you watch him quickly tinker with your handgun before giving you back your now upgraded weapon.

He winks at you, “See you soon, stranger.”

#lipglossanon #the merchant #the merchant x fem!reader #merchant x fem!reader #the merchant x fem!reader smut #merchant x fem!reader smut #the merchant smut #re4 remake #the merchant re4 remake #lipglossmasterlist

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bro-atz · 8 days

Text

bittersweet

in which: you and minjae had a messy break up, and he just wants to come over and get his stuff back.

pair: ex boyfriend!minjae/afab!reader

word count: 1.8k

content: smut, a lot of arguing, tension (both angry and sexual), a little rough and aggressive, oral sex, fingering, safe sex, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

watch out series: junmin, minjae

You scowled when you heard the doorbell ring. You knew exactly who it was because you weren't expecting anyone else, and you were livid that he had the audacity to show up in front of you again. Using all the force you had in your body, you swung the door open, your ex standing a couple feet away from the door with a similar scowl on his face and a box of belongings— your belongings— in his arms.

"Listen," he started first. "I just came to give you your stuff back and grab my stuff."

"Sorry, I threw it all out already, Minjae."

You actually didn't, but he didn't need to know that.

"What the hell?! Even my sweaters?!"

"No. Those I burned..."

Minjae's eyes hardened. The two of you dated for years, so he knew when you were lying. You shouldn't have even bothered starting shit with him.

"Really? You're just going to continue with the lies, Y/N? Typical," Minjae scoffed before forcing his way into your apartment.

"Why do you even want your shit back, Minjae? Didn't you say you wanted nothing to do with me anymore?"

"Shut up!" Minjae spat. "I want my shit back because it's mine."

Minjae started rifling through different parts of your apartment, grabbing various items he had left behind. You followed closely behind with your arms crossed over your chest and your eyes narrowed, making sure he didn't take anything that wasn't his.

"You afraid I'm going to rob you or something?" Minjae asked with slight malice as he eyed you staring him down.

"Well, I wouldn't put it past you since I don't trust you."

"You don't trust me?"

"Yeah, I don't trust you!" you raised your voice. "Because the second we broke up, you immediately slid into my friend's dms!"

Minjae stood right in front of you, the two of you locking eyes. "I didn't "slide" into her dms," he said in a dangerously low voice.

"Oh sure, because inviting someone out for coffee is just a platonic thing," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, it's not just a romantic thing, either! It's just freaking coffee! How'd you even know about me messaging her?"

"She sent me the screenshots, dumbass! Did you think she wouldn't?!"

"Jesus Christ, I just—" Minjae cut himself off. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose while saying, "You know what? I don't want to get into it."

Minjae turned around, but you turned him right back by grabbing his arm. He snatched his arm away as you said, "No, let's get into it! Did you really break up with me because of me or because you wanted to be with her?"

"For the last time, I wasn't making a move on her!"

"Then why'd you do it?!"

Your face was right in front of his at that point. The two of you were angrily huffing and puffing, and finally, something snapped. Minjae grabbed your face and kissed you roughly, your teeth nearly clashing. You clutched the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. He ended up walking you backwards so that you were pressed up against the wall.

The two of you were breathing heavily as you locked lips over and over again restlessly. His hands quickly worked on removing the loungewear you had on while you went straight for his waistband, your hand diving into his pants and underwear.

"Shit," Minjae hissed against your lips the second he felt your fingers rub along his length. "Your hands are fucking cold."

"Shut the fuck up," you breathed out. "My cold hands seem to be turning you on."

"Dammit, Y/N, do you really have to take everything negatively?" Minjae complained as he moved away from you slightly. "I never said I didn't like it."

"Just stop talking," you groaned both in frustration and pleasure because Minjae's hands gripped your breasts and kneaded them.

"Make me," he taunted you.

At first, you thought about kissing him to shut him up, but you knew that no matter what you did, he was going to run his mouth. You managed to slide down the wall and drop to your knees, your face near his crotch while your hands pulled at the waistband of his pants and underwear. As soon as you heard Minjae inhale— presumably to run his mouth— you took his cock into your mouth, pushing your head all the way down until you choked on it.

"Fuck," he breathed out euphorically. "Oh fuck..."

It only got worse for him when you kept gagging on his dick as you moved, and to be perfectly candid, he was so ready to cum, but he didn't want to cum— he didn't want to be the first to cum.

Holding the back of your head tightly, Minjae moved you off his cock and tugged your hair so that you would stand up again. He moved the hand on your head to your neck, his fingers pressing lightly into your neck.

"I think," he whispered into your ear as his hand brought you closer to his face. "We should take care of you first... Don't you think?"

Next thing you knew, Minjae had you pinned on your bed, his hands briskly stripping you down to nothing before slipping out of his shirt and pants. He pushed your legs up and planted them firmly behind your knees. He kissed you roughly and feverishly over and over again as rubbed his cock over your clit. You grabbed his shoulders and dug your nails into his skin as you tried to get him to stop teasing you and just fuck you already since you couldn't get the words out with his tongue in the way.

Your impatience didn't sit well with Minjae. Well, he loved it, but he didn't want to satisfy you just yet. Rather than his cock, Minjae rubbed two of his fingers along your folds before aggressively thrusting them into your cunt. Just to hear you cry and moan loudly, he stopped kissing you, a slight smirk on his face.

"Oh fuck," you cried loudly, your whole body shaking with the intensity of his fingering.

You screamed and flung your head back the second Minjae's fingers rubbed just right, making you cum all over the bed; but he was definitely not done just yet. Leaning over to your nightstand where he knew the condoms were, he grabbed one. He barely gave you time to recover as he rolled it on, but he immediately pushed his cock into you.

"You better hold on," he told you in a low voice. "I'm not going to go easy on you."

Minjae lowered himself and pushed his face close to your neck. He left a faint bite mark when he felt you hold the back of his neck, your nails scratching his skin. He gripped your waist, and he started actually fucking you. His ruts were slow at first, but they were filled with insane power that had you seeing stars with your eyes squeezed shut. You bit back a moan, but he fucked that moan right out of you when he suddenly sped up. His hips hammered against yours, his speed rapidly increasing but his power holding steady.

You screamed profanities as you felt the pleasure build up and rip through your body since Minjae was just not letting up. You creamed around his cock, your legs and arms shaking as you came. Tears slipped out of your eyes as Minjae still continued as if he was an insatiable beast. You were granted a slight moment of relief when he pulled out, but that relief was quickly taken away when he turned you over, pulled your hips up, and shoved his cock back inside you.

"Minjae— Fuck! Oh fuck!"

Truth be told, Minjae was so fucking close. He was close, but he didn't want to cum just yet because he really missed the way your cunt felt around his cock.

You were able to breathe properly when you felt his pace slow down slightly and his power slow down significantly. He moved his hands from your waist down to your ass. His hips rolled into yours, and you were finally able to hear the sound of his strained breathing now that the sound of his waist hitting yours wasn't reverberating in the room. And, since you had a better grip on reality now, you clenched your cunt, and you heard Minjae inhale sharply before letting out a tiny groan.

Minjae finally pulled out so he could removed the condom and fuck his fist. He was going to cum on your back, but you turned around and took him into your mouth quickly. The tips of his ears turned pink when you did so, but the look on his face hardened, and he smirked. He held the back of your head and ordered in a quiet voice, "Don't spit it out. Just swallow it."

You nodded, and Minjae finally came. He groaned loudly as his load filled up your mouth, his eyes fluttering as he turned his face upwards. When he returned his gaze to you, you did as he said and swallowed.

"Fuck..." he whispered while petting your head. "You... Fuck."

After a beat, the two of you separated. You got off the bed first and grabbed your pile of clothes before quickly wearing them. Minjae put his pants back on, and while he searched for his shirt, you stopped him.

"You, uh," you hesitated, worried that what you were about to ask would lead you two to another argument. "You never told me why..."

"Why what?" Minjae asked with a sigh.

"Why'd you text her...?"

With another sigh, Minjae finished getting his clothes back on. He ran his fingers through his slightly damp hair and said, "I just wanted her to check in on you after we broke up."

"Then... Why'd you ask her to go to a coffee shop?"

"So I could give her your stuff to give to you."

You chewed on your lower lip and nodded. Your mind reeled, and your heart kind of sank. You stood motionless as Minjae gathered the rest of his things, your heart sinking further and further. With his belongings still at your home, you kind of had hope that things would work out between you two, but that didn't seem to be the case anymore.

When Minjae finished getting his stuff, he started walking to the front door, but you stopped him.

"Minjae, wait," you said in a small voice. "I..."

Minjae turned around. There was a look on his face— not quite sad, but not annoyed either. He looked... Conflicted. He kept quiet as he waited for you to speak.

"Can we at least give us another try? Please?"

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pompadourpink · 26 days

Note

hi mom! i'm starting uni in september, i'm moving to a new city so i need to start shopping and all, but also my parents didnt really give me advice and im the eldest so im kinda lost, do you have any advice?? XX

Hello darling,

The ABC:

Uni is scary because your free-will goes from 8 to 90 in two months and freedom is intoxicating. Making up for lost chances can lead to bad choices (spending, dating, partying).

If your family failed to parent you, it is now your job. Autonomy is essential. Learn to cook, budget, clean, be clean, save, be a good citizen, make scary phone calls, keep yourself safe, prioritise.

No one will force you to get up and study, or hire you at 21 when competing with a bright 18 year old. Effort will not betray you (being a grown lazy gifted child will).

Have shared hobbies, from movie Sundays with a girlfriend to knitting with your sister. A social life is a happy life.

Trust your body, it knows. Stomach cramps mean we hate him, daydreaming means try, yawning means bed, not coffee.

The home:

Make a cleaning schedule, be open-minded and reasonable, do not do or say anything your landlord wouldn't like (I fully recommend having roommates once for exposure therapy).

If you have a neighbour your age, introduce yourself. Having that phone number will one day mean not having to sleep outside or getting a package stolen. Thank them with food.

Start documenting problems right away (photos, timestamps, screenshots, testimonies) as you may need to take action later. No emotions, you're just "worried about everyone's wellbeing".

Mould, vermine and leaks are enemies. Act yesterday.

Avoid big purchases. You don't know what the future (location, size, taste) looks like. Go secondhand, neutral, practical.

Avoid silly purchases: streaming, takeout, drinks, fast fashion. You will not regret having a downpayment saved in ten years.

If you ever need to do emergency laundry, put a bin or a bucket in the shower, add water and detergent (+ soda crystal for stains or whitening), wait an hour, rinse, wring, hang.

The shopping:

My grandmother has kept her house clean with a broom, bucket, squeegee broom wrapped in a floorcloth and Marseille soap since the 60s. When something doesn't work, look back.

Must-haves: cleaning (see #1 + cloths, soda, lemons, white vinegar, steel wool), hygiene (scraper, net, shower head filtre, first aid), night (good pillow, plugs, mask) supplies, freezer if possible, water filtre, reusable period protection, winter clothes, long chargers, sunscreen, friend living at home who will lend you tools.

Must-not-haves: anything trendy, collections (even books), a pet - don't let Felix keep you back, sleep over and study in Paris!

Have an emergency kit (+ whatever you need) + a smaller version in the car/at the office (with cash).

Fresh fruit, starches, a few types of frozen vegetables, of cans of legumes, of fresh, canned and frozen protein, a treat, something fun once in a while to experiment + a (bi-)monthly outing.

A couple of formal outfits. Large black dress pants, white shirt, dark grey thin jumper, pencil skirt, blazer, large coat, trench coat, loafers, heels, tall boots. Never slouchy or skin tight, plain.

Craigslist, Facebook marketplace, thrift stores. Spend a few hours making a perfect home board on Pinterest instead of listening to TikTok and taking what Ikea gives you.

The social life:

Make one or two real friends and cherish them forever. Support each other, travel, buy a house together, idk.

Don't be afraid to be/do things alone. You shouldn't be afraid of what your head says when it's not distracted.

Don't miss out on huge opportunities for people. Some are around out of necessity and will ghost you after graduation.

Do not try to impress, especially people you don't like and who don't like you. Do not do or say anything cops wouldn't like. Be a homebody who doesn't drink if that's what you want.

Do not try to educate those who will not learn.

Do not befriend someone who lacks confidence as they will make you pay for their jealousy, nor someone who wants a free therapist. Those relationships will be one-sided.

Befriend a couple of older girls. They will see through the lies of the people (men, classmates, employers) trying to fool you.

The love life:

The thirty-two year old man doesn't find you mature, he finds you inexperienced and malleable. Don't try meth thinking you're special enough to not get addicted.

If a date mocks you and you get mad, either that is who he is or he hates you. If you got mad, he is not for you. Your job is not to pretend you don't care so he can have a girlfriend.

Ask yourself if you would tell your best friend, mother, Taylor Swift, that he (hers) didn't mean it like that. If not, take a break from dating and think about why you think you don't deserve respect.

Don't forgive what you don't want to tolerate.

Don't try to force a relationship with someone who made it clear that he is, for whatever reason, not interested. You will be played like a fiddle until he meets someone he wants.

Don't try communicating with someone who is messing with you on purpose. No one ignores you for three days or sleeps with your friend or breaks your favourite necklace after an argument by accident. Also, your husband would never.

The daily life:

Have a clean e-mail address (firstname.lastname) for official biz and a casual one (f.lastna) for everything else, a solid password (Lanadelrey1984#) - change it yearly - and a list of the usernames and passwords you didn't pick.

If you don't trust your parents, block them off your account or open a new one when you turn 18 before they rob you.

Save a year worth of expenses, don't purchase what you couldn't buy twice now, don't replace what still works, give yourself week-long thinking periods before spending.

Get folders for your paperwork and keep them safe + take pictures for an encrypted Drive (beware of iCloud): diplomas, flat, car, big purchases, work, taxes, health, etc.

Print pics and make albums. One day, the app will die.

Mind your health. Exercise weekly (cardio/strength, ex: runs + weighted Pilates), walk, get more water, sleep, and fibre, take vitamin D, mind your eyes/ears/skin/teeth, stretch, leave.

Only invest energy, money, or time into what is worth it. FaceTime before the date. Get secondhand leather boots instead of replacing plastic. Drop the book after 100 bad pages.

Refuse conversations with people whose lives you wouldn't want, who happily overwork for a mediocre wage and don't know how old their children are. The handcuffs are homemade.

The job:

People will not forget how you made them feel and the world is a small place. Colleagues, clients, bosses will gossip: make sure it is for good reason. Dress and look clean, stand straight, be on time, never ever gossip, even when you were wronged.

Understand the power of sobriety. Be known for the success of your last project, not your bright skirts or temper.

Protect future you so you get the promotion/project/raise. No friends, no enemies. Smile, have neutral answers, make them talk, move on, make your IG private, google your name.

Lie. You don't avoid them, you eat lunch with your nana (hi Paula, no, I forgot about the hairdresser's), weren't unemployed, your father was ill, cannot go out, you have a birthday party.

Act boring with the jealous old woman or the obnoxious man. Take the fake compliment for a real one, don't understand the innuendo, have too much work to chat. Bullies get bored.

Instead of clapping back (see #3), be Cinderella, who ignores the insults and turns to Mr. No nonsense, who has been there twenty years, worryingly asking if Ethel is okay, I don't know what to do (no mention of ego, you're just distraught about her).

Sites to look up: Proton (mail, VPN, drive), Notion.

Love,

Mum

(PS - apologies if the she/he thing doesn't match you, this is a flexible plan for all of my children)

#ask #malks #this is too long

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

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Blueberry Pancakes

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!fem reader

Summary: The morning after [4.5k]

Author’s note: thank you for being patient also I was going to write more of the spicy spice but I got lazy so this is what you get lol fic named after this song

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, June putting her theatre minor and knowledge of NYC to work, Joel being needy, ✨opening up emotionally✨, smut (oral f receiving), we’re coming to the end of our time in NYC :(

Joel pressing kisses to your face is the first thing you feel when you wake up. You lazily reach for him, not even bothering to open your eyes, as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him. "Good morning," he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep, and you hum. You smile and open your eyes to see him, messy hair and all, bathed in sunlight. Tattoos previously hidden by his shirt are now on full display, and your fingers drop to trace the inky lines. He kisses your nose and tucks some hair behind your ear. "I ordered us room service."

"Did you get me a bagel?"

"No, 'm a complete idiot," he says sarcastically, and you laugh. "What d'you have scheduled for today?"

"I have to make an appearance on the Tonight Show, but other than that, I'm free all day. Why?" You ask, and he smiles before ducking his head into your neck and kissing you more. Maybe it's because you never let yourself notice, or he didn't let you see, but Joel Miller is incredibly affectionate. You'd be an idiot not to let him worship you like you're the one who hung the moon and the stars.

"Because my sound mixing guy said he doesn't need me to come in, so I have," kiss. "The whole," kiss. "Day," kiss. "Off." He lifts his head to kiss your lips again but is interrupted by a knock at the door. He sighs, and you laugh, already pushing him off you so you can open the door.

"I love how you're acting like you're not the one who ordered it," you say as you grab his Lakers shirt from the top of his suitcase, the hem of it hitting the tops of your thighs, and open the door to grab the two plates covered with a tin dish at your door. Joel sits up to watch you close the door behind you and set the dishes down on the table. "What?" You question his lingering eyes, and he shrugs.

"You look ridiculously hot wearin' my clothes."

"You just like it because you know I'm not wearing any underwear."

"I mean, that's not entirely wrong." He gets out of bed to pull on a pair of boxers from his bag and pads over to you, rubbing sleep from his eye. He's a sight to behold like this. All tan skin, hard muscle, and delicate black lines adorning his body. He wraps his arm around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder as you pull out your phone and take a picture of the beautiful breakfast spread. You post a vague Instagram story in which you can clearly see the two plates in front of you and the slightest peek of Joel's hand in the frame. "D'you like causin' chaos, or am I a bad influence?"

"It's a little fun to watch them freak out." You admit, and he laughs. He presses a quick kiss to your jaw before releasing you to pull your chair out for you. You sit down and flip your phone face down on the table as Melanie texts you a screenshot of your post with a thumbs-up emoji. She can wait.

You and Joel eat the breakfast he ordered for you and talk. You tell him about coordinating with the cast of Red Dirt Girl for the premiere and show him a picture of you and Lilly together on set. He explains how sound mixing works and why he wanted to come all the way out to New York to work with this one guy when there are plenty of other sound mixers in Los Angeles. "I've worked with him a long time," he tells you. "I don't trust anyone else." You talk about wanting to visit the places you loved when you lived in the city. It's been years since you've been able to come back and just have fun. You're secretly really excited to show him your old stomping grounds.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" Joel asks as you take a sip of coffee.

"Go for it."

"Before last night, when's the last time you had sex with someone?" There's no malice or amusement in his voice. He's genuinely curious. You sigh and stare into your mug.

"A year ago. Maybe longer."

"Wow."

"What?"

"Nothin'. I just can't believe that."

"Why? It's not like I've been dating since I came to LA. I work all the time. I'm never home, and when I am, it's not like I'm doing anything exciting." You say, and he shrugs.

"You're a beautiful woman. Smart. Funny. Not to mention rich and famous," he says, and you laugh. "I thought men would be climbin' over each other to be with you."

"Men are also intimidated by a woman who makes more money or works more than they do."

"Why do you work so much?" He asks. "People obviously like you if they keep hirin' you. Realistically, you could take a year-long break and just relax for the first time in God knows how long."

"I've always worked a lot. In college, I worked two different jobs, and when I graduated, I took almost every role or position I was offered because I couldn't afford not to. I think it was a way to keep me moving, keep my mind off of my family back home or the lives my friends were starting without me. Because I was in the city and so far away, it felt easy for them to forget about me. But they can't forget about me if I'm making new movies or shows or doing interviews."

"Is that somethin' you're afraid of? Being forgotten?" He asks, and you nod. You're not sure why you're divulging this much information to him so early in the day. You blame the way he looks at you.

"It's why I bite my tongue or play into the celebrity antics or sign a contract to date a rockstar," you say, and he smiles. "If I'm always giving them something to talk about, they can't throw me away." He reaches for your hand across the table, and a little shock passes from his fingers to yours.

"Well, you, my dear, are anythin' but forgettable,"

"Thanks,"

"'M serious. Those people would be fuckin' idiots to let you pass 'em by, and I'm sorry nobody's told you that." He says, squeezing your hand like he's trying to press the words into your skin. You bite the inside of your cheek as your brain catches up to what he's saying, tears pricking in your eyes embarrassingly fast. You stand, cross to his chair, and straddle him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands rest on your bare thighs, his thumbs tracing patterns there.

"Where've you been hiding this whole time?" You ask quietly, like if you say it too loud, the reverie will break, and everything will go back to the way it was before you came to New York.

"Could ask you the same thing." He whispers, and you smile. You lean down and kiss him, slow in your movements. You play with the curls at the nape of his neck and just relish in the feeling of his lips on yours. It's dizzying how his stubble scratches against your skin, the hair already coming back in even though he just shaved the other day. He trails his hands upwards until he barely grazes your inner thighs, and you put your hands on his wrists to stop him.

"As much as I would love to do that again," you say against his lips. "I've got a list of places to visit today, and we can't do that if you keep getting handsy."

"A list? You're so official." He asks, and you hum as you slide off his lap. You plant your feet and move toward the bathroom, but he snags your hand before you can get far and keeps you close for another second before letting it go. You can't suppress the giddy smile on your face as you start your skincare routine and plan an outfit in your head. The hotel room is quiet, and both of you are comfortable enough to slip into domestic silence as you get ready for the day. Or, at least, you would've been if you hadn't moved closer to the mirror to put sunscreen on and noticed the mark on your neck.

"Joel Miller!" You shout. He appears in the doorway a second later with a confused look on his face. "Are you a fucking teenager? Look at this!" You point at the hickey bruising your skin, and he smirks.

"I don't remember you tryna stop me."

"You're a menace."

"Yeah, yeah." He says as he reaches around you to grab something, smacking your ass and running before you can get payback, and you laugh. You call a ceasefire long enough to get dressed, but you do steal one of his white button-ups and pair it with jeans. When you come out of the bathroom with the tiniest bit of makeup on, wearing his shirt, he plays at his knees, giving out.

"You're gonna kill me," he groans. You laugh and shove him out of the way to grab your bag.

"You're dramatic," you say as he kisses your cheek. You grab his hand and all but drag him out of the hotel room, sneakily leaving money on the nightstand for the poor housekeeping staff who has to wash the sheets while you're out. You expect him to drop your hand once you're out on the streets, but he doesn't; if anything, he walks closer to you and wraps his arm around your neck to kiss your temple while you wait at a crosswalk. One of the things you love about New York is how easy it is to blend in among the massive amounts of people rushing from one place to another. Nobody gives you or Joel a second glance, and if they do, you're already several steps ahead of them, and it's too late for them to say anything.

"Did you live around here?" Joel asks as you turn down 2nd Avenue, and you laugh.

"I was way too broke to live anywhere near the Upper East Side. I lived in a three-story walk-up in Hell's Kitchen with four other girls from NYU."

"How far's that?"

"Hell's Kitchen?"

"Yeah." He says, and you look up at the street signs to figure out where you are.

"Well, we're on 2nd and 83rd, and I lived on 9th and 51st, so a really long walk from here, but we could cut through Central Park or take the subway. Or, if you really want to be LA about it, we could get an Uber," you say, and he nods. "What do you wanna do?"

"It's been a really long time since I was in Central Park," he says, looking down at you and squeezing your hand. "Wanna give me a tour?" You smile and begin guiding him through the familiar route. You tell him little bits of history that you remember from the various times you went on sight-seeing tours with friends and family, pointing out the roof of the Dakota and telling him that Yoko Ono still lives there once it comes into view. Joel tells you what Sarah and Ellie are up to today as you cross the street into Central Park. Apparently, Sarah and Ellie are spending a girl's day at the Los Angeles Zoo and then getting dinner with Joel's brother later. He lights up and shows you a picture of the girls smiling together in front of the zoo signage. He shoots back a picture of the park, and you watch him type out a dorky dad message about making good decisions.

Central Park is gorgeous this time of year. The flowers are starting to sprout into a rainbow of colors as the last bits of bitter cold finally disappear. Somebody's playing music at Strawberry Fields like they always are, but Joel being Joel, stops and listens to the young guitarist with tattoos painting her arms. You lean on him, holding his bicep, as you stand there and listen to him hum along to the song. You stay there for as long as possible, ignoring sideways glances and growing whispers, and clap when she finishes singing. Joel drops two hundred dollar bills in her open case before disappearing with you down the path, away from lingering eyes and tilted iPhone cameras.

You take him on a bit of detour but, thankfully, find the path emptier and quieter than most. The birds chirp and swoop low over your head as they gather materials for their nests. The sun shines through the trees the way the movies make it seem like it always does, and it just feels easy. Joel slides his hand into your back pocket as you listen to him ramble about how important it is to support young artists because they get so discouraged. You think he could probably talk about this exact subject for hours until you stumble out of the path and into the decades-old theatre. He pauses, taking in the sight of all the seats and the skyline peeking out behind the trees, and you smile at his reaction. You walk him down to the front of the stage and turn him around to look at the entire theatre. Even though you've been here hundreds of times and seen pictures of your friends here, the magnitude of Delacorte Theatre never ceases to take your breath away.

"I used to do Shakespeare in the Park here." You say, running your hand over the smooth surface of the stage.

"Really?" He asks, and you hum. "You like it?"

"Loved it. I remember every second."

"I never did understand what those plays were about."

"Didn't you read Shakespeare in school?" You ask, and he laughs, shaking his head.

"I'm from Texas, and I had a baby before a degree. Do you think I read Shakespeare?" He says, humor in his tone, and you have to fight the instinct to ask about Sarah and how he ended up a single father at twenty-two.

"You should try it. It's really not that hard once you understand the rhythm and everything." You say instead, and he furrows his eyebrows at you.

"What d'you mean?"

"It's kinda like a song. You speak the words in iambic pentameter and give them meaning as you say them. Every sentence should be a revelation like you've never had the thought before, even if you've read it a million times."

"Iambic what?" He asks, and you laugh.

"Here," you say, facing him. You put his hand over your heart, your own hand resting on his wrist, and give him a second to adjust to the beating. "Feel it?" You ask, and he nods. "That ba bum ba bum ba bum is how you stress the syllables." You take a deep breath and recall an old monologue from the depths of your brain. Then, surrounded by the ghosts of your past and the thousands of people who've ever walked the stage, you fill Delacorte with words older than the city itself. You keep yourself in time with the steady pulse in Joel's wrist and do your best to make every breath count. After years of auditions and callbacks and no after no after no, this, performing for him, is the scariest thing you've ever done. He stares at you once you're done repeating Helena's lines from A Midsummer Night's Dream, and his jaw moves as he thinks.

"What's it mean to you? Not what the books tell you it should mean." He asks quietly.

"It's her admitting her faults. She's saying, "I know I fucked up, and I'm sorry. I can't take back what I've done, and I hurt you, but I love you, and because I love you, I'm letting you go." She's trying to say goodbye. Give their friendship meaning even when Hermia is furious at her," you say, and he nods. "The last person I dated was in that show with me. He played Oberon and was a complete asshole, but he broke my heart. Said I'd never make it in the industry. He actually broke up with me on closing night. This is the first time I've been back since." You say. He doesn't ask why you're telling him this or question the story. He just pulls you close and hugs you. He rubs your back and presses his lips to the crown of your head, and for just a second, New York City quiets down.

"Fuck that guy," Joel says against your hair, and you laugh as you look up at him.

"Yeah, fuck that guy." You agree. Then, just as quickly as the smile took over his face, he turns pensive again.

"Thank you for showin' me this."

"You're welcome."

You linger in the theatre for a few more minutes, reflecting on the journey your career has taken, before continuing your trek through Central Park. You walk past the children's playground where yuppie moms or their nannies watch over the screaming kids climbing the jungle gyms. Joel tells you about the time Ellie broke her arm because she was dared to climb as high as she could on the play structure. She was ten.

"Cried the whole way to the hospital." He shakes his head.

"You or Ellie?"

"Are you kiddin'? Of course, it was me," he says, and you have to stop in the middle of the sidewalk from laughing so hard. "I can't believe you're laughin' at me! My baby girl was hurt!"

"Aw, you're tearing up now!" You say as you swipe your thumbs underneath his eyes. "Oh, honey." You giggle as you kiss his cheek, resting your hands on his face.

"Yeah, you should feel bad for makin' me cry."

"You're just a big softie."

"For them? Always." He says like it's the easiest thing in the world. It stops you in your tracks. You know countless men with children who never tell their kids how much they love them or even show up for them. But here's Joel Miller crying about an accident that happened four years ago because of how much he loves his daughters.

"Sarah and Ellie are really lucky to have you as their dad." You tell him, and you swear, more tears glisten in his eyes for just a moment. He clears his throat and turns to kiss the inside of your wrist.

"Thank you." He says, and you nod. He tucks you under his arm, and you guys finally cross the street out of Central Park.

Once you're close enough, you take Joel to your favorite pizza place in Hell's Kitchen, where you can still get a slice bigger than your head for a dollar. He's only slightly surprised at how fast the man behind the counter talks, but you chalk it up to him being in California for so long, where every syllable has to last three seconds longer. You miss New York, you realize, as you walk through the streets with him. It's an ache so deep in your heart that it makes you wonder why you ever left. But then you pass the building where you auditioned for an off off off off Broadway play and got called back, but when you showed up, the casting director just looked up and went, "Who are you?" That's enough to make you remember.

Still, as you take him by your old apartment building, the restaurant you waitressed at until the day before you left for Los Angeles, and the subway station where you jumped the turnstiles too many times to count because you didn't have enough money for the train fare, you think you want to retrace every step you've ever taken on this earth just to make new memories with him. With Joel, everything is made fresh and exciting again because you've never gotten to experience these things with him by your side.

A dangerous and stupid thought wiggles its way into your brain as you take the subway back to the Upper East Side, his body stabilizing yours as the car jolts forward and shakes, even though you're way more accustomed to the train's movements than him. You shoo it away before it becomes anything more, chalking it up to nostalgia and vulnerability. But when the subway emerges from the depths of the dirty, underground station and chugs its way through the elevated track, sunshine beaming into the cars and making Joel's eyes look like halos, it returns.

"What?" He asks, and you shake your head. "You're starin'."

"Maybe I just like looking at you."

"Weirdo."

"Weirdo." You copy his deep tone, and he gives you a look. The subway doors open at your stop, and you and Joel tumble out of the car. He trusts you to guide him through the crowd and out of the station, holding his hand as he walks behind you. Traffic has picked up now that the work day is over, and you and Joel have to run between cars to make it to the hotel resulting in getting tagged in a picture of you and Joel running through the street with the caption, "What the fuck just happened!!!" As you approach the hotel doors, a group of young girls' eyes widen when they see you and Joel together. Joel notices and offers a very quick hello before ducking inside the hotel lobby, a chorus of excited voices echoing behind you.

When you make it up to your hotel room, you sigh and fight the urge to crawl back into bed, your walk through the many neighborhoods finally catching up with you. A garment bag hangs in the open closet, and you unzip it to find the Cinderella blue dress your stylist got for you to wear tonight. It's short and has little flowers embroidered in the skirt, and you smile at how cute it is. "What time d'you have to be at the studio?" Joel asks, basically reading your mind as he comes up behind you to look at the dress.

"Couple hours. I need to take a shower and get ready soon." You say, turning to face him, and he smirks.

"Want some company?"

"Sure."

"Wait, really?" He asks, and you laugh as you move into the bathroom, kicking your shoes and socks off by the sink. You turn on the shower and start unbuttoning your shirt when you notice him still standing by the closet.

"Oh, my God, you're like a teenage boy. Yes, but hurry up!" You say, and he almost immediately pulls his shirt over his head and rushes into the bathroom with you. He's on you in a second, his hands flying to the button of your jeans, and you smile against him. "I really did mean just shower." You're half-joking, and he seems to realize it because he hums and pushes your pants down.

"Course, let me just help you outta these," he says, dropping to his knees in front of you. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him before you, guiding your legs out of the denim, but when he presses gentle kisses up your knee, you know you're done for. He takes his time, nipping and licking at the skin of your thighs like nothing else matters. He carefully guides your leg over his shoulder as he traces the fabric of your panties, his lips ghosting over you. Your hand lands in his hair as you stare down at him, his big hands reaching back and palming at your ass. He presses a gentle kiss to your clit, and you let out a shaky breath. "Still wanna take a shower instead?"

"You're an asshole." You say, and he hums smugly against your pussy, smirking as he finally tugs your underwear down and slides one deft finger through your wetness. You're dripping from his teasing, and you don't even have the heart to be embarrassed about it.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you like it when I'm an asshole," he says. For half a second, you think he'll make you beg like he did last night, but then, without warning, he leans forward and licks hungrily into you. His mouth is hot and slow as he tastes you for the first time, all but moaning as you coat his tongue. He licks broad stripes through you, his nose bumping against your clit every time, and you shiver despite the sweat forming on the back of your neck. You grip his hair between your fingers and gasp when he slips two fingers into your pussy. You're still a little sore, but he gives you a second to adjust, focusing all his attention on devouring you like a man starved. "You taste so fuckin' good, baby. Been thinkin' 'bout this since you stole that fuckin' cigarette from me." He mumbles, his stubble scraping the inside of your thighs perfectly.

"I thought, oh fuck," you moan as he starts moving his fingers inside of you, the drag of them making you see stars. "Thought you hated me."

"I thought you hated me," he says, moving to kiss your inner thigh and look up at you. The muscles in his forearms flex as his fingers curl, and you whine. His mouth is back on you, drawing tight circles into your clit with his tongue, and dark eyes hold your gaze. Everything around you melts, the water hitting the tile behind you becoming nothing more than white noise as pleasure swims through your veins. "But we just had to figure each other out. Huh, pretty girl?" You clench around his fingers, and he chuckles lowly. "I knew you liked it when I called you that. Did you go home and touch yourself after I dropped you off? I would've come inside to help you, you poor thing." He makes a sympathetic sound, the vibration making you buck your hips.

You can't even formulate a response as his fingers stroke at your walls, grazing that spongy part inside you enough to make you throw your head back. He sucks your clit between his lips and hums against you again. You moan his name over and over again, the sound of your voice echoing around you. Your hands move from his hair to his shoulders, and you hold onto him for dear life. "If you let me fall, I will never fucking forgive you." You manage, and he laughs.

"I've got you, sweetheart." He says as he wraps his other hand around your waist, pressing you closer to his mouth. His fingers pump in and out of you steadily, and he licks at your clit again, the slightest scrape of his teeth making you shout as you come. He doesn't let up. The filthy sound of his fingers fucking you through your orgasm mix with your shaky moans, and you have to literally pull him away by his hair for him to stop.

"You're gonna kill me." You breathe as he stands and kisses you.

"You're dramatic."

#one for the money two for the show #rockstar!joel miller #the last of us au #the last of us x reader #the last of us fluff #the last of us smut #joel the last of us #joel tlou #tlou x reader #tlou smut #tlou fluff #tlou au #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x female reader

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ohnococo · 5 months

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Fight Night Sukuna: An Infodump

I’ve put together a bit of a Fight Night info dump thanks to the cute Sukuna cat video made by @ehnonymousse (and me going through some of my character notes to write a request for MMA Sukuna) . These are in no specific order/format - just however I pulled them from my notes and some random observations!

Under a cut for length 💛

Sukuna doesn’t actually dislike junk food as much as he tends to claim, but he’s not in his 20s anymore and is already large and bulky enough that he has to be strict with his diet to make weight before fights. If he ate how he truly wanted he’d have no chance. Still, he indulges between fights and as a result gets a little soft around the middle. His lower abs are slightly obscured by a rounded stomach (though it takes a lot more than that for his Adonis belt to lose prominence) and his pecs get softer. That being said even when he’s at his leanest he doesn’t have that hard muscle. He does when flexing, yes, but it’s soft when he’s not.

He has a definite sweet tooth, but prefers bitter flavours with his sweet like dark chocolate and coffee. Had he taken reader out to the cafe we see in Chapter 5 when he wasn’t in the process of eating clean and cutting weight, we would have definitely seen him ordering their take on maritozzi, filled with coffee cream.

I’ll just pop screenshots in to make referencing it easy, but as far as Sukuna was concerned he and reader were dating while they were fucking around and partying together. He hadn’t necessarily intended that last night as a goodbye, just a break to messing around like that because he needed to train and be clean for potential random drug tests.

But those feelings, and showing them in a way other than strictly physically, were new to him and he doesn’t realize he and reader isn’t on the same page until this exchange in Chapter 5:

The “sounds like you’re asking me on a date” throws him because, well, as far as he was concerned every night out after the first was a date. That effectively confirms his suspicions that yeah, maybe doing drugs and drinking and fucking all night doesn’t exactly come across as “hey i’m boyfriend material” to most people.

On that note when Sukuna sees he isn’t in reader’s phone under his name, and instead as 👹👑, he’s actually hurt. But he doesn’t really address those types of things when he’s several hours in to filling his body with all kinds of things that obscure his judgement so he deals with that hurt the best way he knows how that isn’t violence: with his dick.

Sukuna was actually really excited to fight Toji. They’d done an entertaining amount of trash talking in press leading up to the fight, and Sukuna loves that shit. Plus it’s not often he gets to fight someone as tricky as Toji.

Also Sukuna knows reader has been looking him up online during Chapter 6 at the frozen yogurt place when they say Toji’s name. Sukuna had never mentioned his name specifically.

The first time Sukuna and reader have sex sober, at his house in Chapter 4, solidifies to Sukuna that he is absolutely down bad. In a way he’d thought his usual indifference would return after some time away, but it only makes him realize he doesn’t want to have that kind of distance again.

Sukuna sort of lazily sliding his fingers inside of reader after sex is a type of comfort thing for him. Think of it as the opposite of the implied awkward feeling that comes with post-nut clarity. He feels accepted, and likes basking in that afterglow as he remind himself he was inside of you and left something behind.

He loves having his scalp rubbed and his hair tugged, it gives him goosebumps. Like he literally pays for scalp massages, he loves it that much.

#my writing #writing stuff✨#💛 fight night

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sassydefendorflower · 1 year

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For some time now I've harbored the suspicion that Ao3 and fandom in general is pretty anti-abortion. Not in a conscious, malicious way - hell no. I think it is an unconscious thing, something that sneaks into a lot of fiction in a way that isn't actively harmful, but has an accumulative effect.

And i get it.

Fanfic and fandom are escapism. They are there to present happy stories and happy endings, big What-ifs and endless coffee-shop AUs. It is easy to imagine these worlds as perfect enough that no one needs to have an abortion because only people who want children only ever get pregnant.

And on an individual level that is absolutely fine. Nobody has to deal with topics that make them personally uncomfortable, or deal with delicate discussions such as this in their free time entertainment. It's just...

A world without abortion isn't a happy one for everyone. Partially because it is a human right that is being threatened all over the world by conservative governments who want to take away the bodily autonomy to have one. And since such is the state of the world, there should be a room in fiction to explore the implications of this. The horror of some government having this kind of control over your body, but also the fantasy of a support system that is there for you should the need for an abortion arise.

Why am I typing all this? Because I just got a lot of hate on one of my fics dealing with abortion. And I think it is a symptom of a larger problem.

[ID: screenshot of an anon Ao3 comment saying: "Why do you worthless,brainless feminists try to tarnish this perfect stor y with your feminist baby murder propoganda? Why do you try to project your brainwashed,indoctrinated whore behaviour on characters as great as Edward and Winry? An abortion is NOT your decision. It is NOT your body and no amount of feminist screaming will change that. It is the fathers child too and your opinion is irrelevant. Abortion is murder, that's a fact. And no, I'm not religious. This entire story and your propoganda is utter TRASH. Rejected."]

[ID: another screenshot, also from anon: "NOT her body,NOT her choice. Different human being altogether. Keep wishing. Men will fully stop this practice of infanticide." Posted: 2023-06-18 05:09:47 UTC]

[ID: a third anon message that reads: Anonymous responded: "NOT her body,NOT her choice. That's a different, innocent human being altogether. And Ed is a strong,free man with a working brain. He's not your idea of "supportive husband" (aka spineless beta) who will support infanticide. This is not Edward and mlst definitely not Winry. She knows the value of life and exactly how hollow abortion arguments are. It is NOT a womans choice ever. NOBODY gets to decide to murder an innocent baby." Posted: 2023-06-18 05:08:24 UTC]

The fact that you should never send someone these kind of messages non-withstanding, this showcases a lack of respect and understanding that is simply baffling. There is so much hate in these comments. So much ire at women and people capable of having children in these words... it's frightening.

And I don't want to lock these stories behind moderated comments and limited access, because let me tell you something... these stories are for the people who need them most, the people who need positive and loving stories about making a hard choice and sticking with it. And often these people will only tell me about their own journey, their own struggle while on Anon themselves. And looking at the kind of response I've garnered... for a good reason.

Because it still isn't safe to openly talk about abortion.

Apparently not even on a website like ao3, which is generally assumed to be pretty liberal considering the general nature of online fandom.

Abortion is still seen as a taboo topic - in fiction and in real life. And this fear of openly discussing abortion makes people who visibly do vulnerable for attack. Be it authors like me who want to explore the bodily autonomy inherit in a fight for abortion, or the women and people who've had an abortion and are still frightened to talk about it.

If writing fiction dealing with abortion has taught me anything--- it's that people need and WANT these stories. Because no one else is writing them, but I really think some of us should.

The perfect world in which no one needs an abortion is useless, if people in the real world get hate mail for contemplating having one.

The next time your character has an unwanted pregnancy or is already surrounded by six kids or is very focused on wanting success and a career... think about why abortion isn't an option in your story.

Is it because it wouldn't make sense in your perfect fantasy? Is it because actually wanting kids is very inherent to this character? Or is it because deep down some part of you still thinks that having an abortion is some sort of sin?

It's no moral judgement I am making here - but you can only deal with an unconscious bias by examining it.

#fanfic #writing #abortion #ao3 #anon hate #discourse #fma #pro-choice #TERFs Fuck Off #fiction vs reality

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reginageorgesgirlfriend3020 · 1 year

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Amber freeman adores you! (Part 12)

Shs's a huge fan of you taking culinary courses

When she saw that you got your certification and passed with 93.4%

She picked you up in her Jeep and went to celebrate with you

And when she saw the screenshot that you're all set to graduate

She gave you a hint that shes gonna spoil you with iced coffee and lots of shopping

So you and Amber went to dunkin to celebrate

She bought you and iced coffee and she got herself an iced coffee as well

She can definitely be mature and compassionate

She loves to tell you you're doing a great job getting all these certificates

Shes such a sweet, supportive girlfriend

She'll always celebrate with you after you get a certificate ofcompletion

Or even a certification

She always says thank you to you after you help clean the apartment

You love being in her arms

Her arms are so warm and strong

And protective

So when she heard your Aunt Luisa diminished your value as a person

And say your certificates are basically worthless

Amber pulled out a knife and pointed it at your aunts throat

Everyone was in shock and completely scared of Amber

"Listen you little bitch! Devalue my girlfriend one more time and I'll feed your insides to the chickens!!" Amber yelled at your aunt.

"Now come on baby!" Amber said to you. "Let's go have sex I wanna choke you! I want you to call me mommy!" Amber said to you.

She grabbed your hand

You started happily shaking. "Y-yes mommy!"

After you and Amber were done having sex she held you in her arms.

"And for the record", Amber said "You're amazing. Your certificates have so much value and you as a person are important to so many people". Amber said to you

You smiled.

But their were little tiny cuts on you from when Amber used her knife on you during sex

1 day later....

On the news...

"A woman was murdered inside her home after midnight. And so was her husband. Cops cannot identify who this person is wearing a ghostface costume and mask". Said the news anchor.

"A woman but the name of Luisa was found with her insides on the outside of her body. And the husband's throat was slit from ear to ear". Said the other news anchor

You and Amber were cuddling on the couch

You gave Amber a look.

Amber laughed nervously

"Uh oh. No! Dont say it!" Said Amber

"That's it! Me and you! madden mobile, now!! You said

Amber groaned and smiled. "But I couldn't help myself! I'm getting a butt kicking in this game arent I?" Said Amber

And you won in madden mobile 21-0 making your girlfriend give up being ghostface for the night

#Scream 5 #scream 5 imagine #scream 5 x reader #amber freeman x y/n #amber freeman x you #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman imagine #amber freeman

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equallyshaw · 1 year

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It’s your day, my love. feat. nico hischier

✿ Warnings: none

✿ Word count: 1.08k.

just a cute blurb!

Two nights ago, Nico and his team lost to the Carolina Hurricanes. Surprisingly he was not in as bad a mood as I had previously thought. The very night, he came home and instantly went to go check on our little girl, Mila. It was 2 am by the time he got into our room and instantly plopped onto the bed as he saw that I was awake. I scooted closer to him and started to rub his neck, massaging the ends of his hair. He flipped over and I saw exhaustion plaguing his eyes, and I also noticed his very cleaned up ‘playoff beard’. “Get some sleep.” I whispered, helping him get his blazer off and he was out like a light. It was now Sunday the 14th, it was the U.S Mother’s Day, and I woke up to my body’s alarm clock around 8 am and found an empty bed. I frowned, pulled on my silk oversized robe and slippers, and headed to the washroom to do my skincare and brush my teeth and hair. I heard a ruckus downstairs and panicked for a brief second hoping Nico had it all under control. And then I heard loud cries and I sighed briefly, before checking in the mirror that I looked presentable and then I was down the stairs. I heard Nico speaking softly in German, and our girl quieted down. I peeked around the corner, seeing the two in the kitchen. I saw the backside of them, as they stood over the sink, looking out in our backyard. One thing I knew I wanted when I moved here full time after becoming pregnant, was that we rent a house with a backyard. Even if it meant, we would not live in New York. Nico being the man that he is, went above and beyond. I smiled at the two, taking a mental screenshot since my phone was on the other side of the kitchen. Our 3-year-old Daschund “Babette”, greeted me with a bark, alerting the two besties. They turned around, and I smiled widely as I mirrored Nico’s smile. I turned towards Mila and she made grabby hands to me, and I quickly grabbed her. “Hi, my sweet love.” I cooed, giving her kisses. She giggled loudly, as I tickled her for a few seconds. “Mama stoooopppp!” She playfully cried and I playfully huffed as she did so. “Don’t huff at me Mutter.” She said sassily, switching to German. I gawked at her, as Nico giggled like a fool plating some food. I smiled, as I put Mila in her high-top chair that we used for our designated breakfast counter. “Meine Güte” (Oh my goodness) I smiled, “Did you help Papa do all of this?” I asked, and Mila nodded wildly. “Helped me with the pancakes and bacon.” He responded, giving my cheek a peck, as he set my ice americano in front of me. “danke meine liebe.” (Thankyou, my love.) I grinned, sipping it. He sat on the other side of Mila, and we all dug in.

It was later in the afternoon now, and Mila was put down for a nap. I was sitting in the sunroom, reading a magazine with Babette at my feet, and the rest of my iced americano next to me. Nico plopped down next to me, pulling out my phone. I turned to look at him for a brief second, before turning back to my French magazine. I felt Nico’s gaze a few minutes later, and when I turned to meet his gaze, he quickly turned away. “Ok buddy, whatcha want?” I questioned, setting down a magazine on the coffee table. He grinned, looking away from his phone. “I was looking at flight’s…” he trailed off, and I quirked an eyebrow. “When do you want to go home?” I questioned, and he shrugged. “I was thinking we could go to Chantilly..” he grinned, making me excited. “Can we??” I said, moving closer and playfully shaking him. He pulled me into his chest and smiled. “Of course! I know how much you miss your family.” He said softly, and I stared at him for a few seconds before leaning in to kiss him. I pulled back, “Have I told you how much I love you Nico Hischier?” I toyed and he did a fake thinking face. “Hmm. I think once or twice.” He said making me laugh. He pulled me back into a kiss before we spent the next hour wasting time.

It was around nine o’clock when I found Nico in our room, on facetime with somebody. I made my way to the bathroom to get ready for bed, and I heard the shrieking and annoying voice of the one and only, Jack Hughes. I loudly and playfully groaned and then stopped waiting for a response. “Engel?” (Angel) He questioned, and I grinned. I walked out into our room, “If it isn’t the implorable Jack Hughes. What do we owe the pleasure, little one?” I joked, and I saw Jack’s shocked face. “How dare you? On my birthday?” Jack joked. “How old is the little baby turning today?” I asked as Nico turned his phone towards me. “Twenty two, so im not a little baby.” He defended himself, and I laughed. “A bitty baby.” I teased, showing my fingers close together, mimicking a ‘small’ amount, and he scoffed. “Nico! Come get your lady.” He said causing us two to laugh. “Happy birthday buddy, I hoped you had a great one. Oh and tell your mom I said happy Mothers Day, how dare you share HER day.” I smiled, leaning into Nico who put his arm around me. Jack smiled then pretended to look disgusted, “Ew gross, save it for the bedroom.” He said and we laughed. “We’re in OUR bedroom.” Nico laughed causing Jack to roll his eyes. “We will talk tomorrow when we see ya, byeeeeee Jack.” I said and Nico said bye as well. “Bye guys, Happy Mother’s Day Camille!” I put Nico’s phone on my bedside table and reconnected with Nico. “Today was a lovely day, thankyou Nico.” I said thankfully, and looked up at Nico who was looking down at me. “Of course my love, it’s your day. Well- every day is your day.” He hummed, kissing me. I smiled as I wrapped my hands around his neck, pulling him in closer. We pulled apart after 15 seconds and just looked at one another. “Love your forever, Miss Camille.” He smiled before reconnecting our lips.

—

@camilledubois: papa & franc ‘my boys’ got me flowers for mamas day !

Tag: francthewiener and nicohischier

435 likes, 24 comments.

@nicohischier: only the best love

@jackhughes: I thought I was one of your boys 😔

↳ @camillesubois: I always have room for you my child!

@lhughes_6: franccccc

@lhughes_6: also Mia won’t be happy she didn’t grace your feed 😒

↳ @camilledubois: our sassy girl will manage

↳ @nicohischier: your * sassy girl will manage

↳ @jackhughes: babe— you are the sassy hischier

↳ @camillesubois: hahaha

@tmeier96: franc the dude, happy Mother’s Day!

↳ @camilledubois: Thankyou mo 🫶🏻

@pally_18: hope you enjoyed your day!

↳ @camilledubois: I did Thankyou!

Hope you all enjoyed!

random tags:

@toothlessdudebros @hockeylvr59 @jayda12 @makarhughes @nicohischierz @hockeyboysarehot @nolanmoylee @slafgoalskybaby @starshine-hockey-girl @bitchinbarzal @rosesvioletshardy @huggybug

#nico hischier #Jack hughes #new jersey devils #hockey #nhl #hockey bkurb #hockey imagine #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #Nico hischier x oc

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