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#I TAKE THAT BACK SHE'S SO FUCKING POWERFUL
peachesofteal · 8 hours
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Cool girl
ghoap x female reader / 18+ warning: the boys are foul - could be considered dub con / part one / part two
Two (three) can play at that game.
"When you're done being a brat, call us."
You decide within a week, that you're very much not done being a brat.
And you're very much done with them.
Fuck them, you coach yourself in the mirror as you fix your makeup. Fuck them both. And her, whoever she is, though you know she doesn't deserve your wrath. She probably has no idea the tangled web she's walked into, she's the one stuck in the trap, now.
The doorbell rings, and you check your reflection one more time, satisfied with your dress, the way it gathers across your breasts, how it flatters your shape. It's a tad short, there's a bit of cleavage, little pieces that make it more than perfect. Something about this style, the way it fits, always drove the boys nuts, so it should be more than good enough for your date.
Fuck them.
You bring him to the dive. It's a safe choice, the bartender knows you, pays attention. You feel safe here, familiar. It's a great option for a first date.
And because you're a cool girl, you don't know how to play pool.
Of course, he's happy to teach you.
You start with a tequila. It scalds on the way down and settles like fire, but it takes the edge off. One turns to two, and it's enough to get you closer, allowing him to rest his hand on your knee at the bar, allowing him to keep a hand at the small of your back as he guides you to the finally empty pool table.
He's handsy, and normally, you'd be a little put off.
But not tonight.
"Okay, it's simple. You use the white ball to break." He lines up your shot for you, folding you into place, bending forward, hand brushing against your thigh as he leans beside you.
You intentionally short the shot, barely breaking the triangle of balls free. He chuckles. "Not bad for a first go."
"What do I get if I win?" Your smile is shy, and it's only half forced. You do like this guy, he's very nice, very attractive. Tall with a strong jawline, kind eyes. His fingers find yours, and his touch is gentle, patient.
"A kiss?" He ventures, testing the waters. You nod.
"Sure thing."
You're halfway through the game when the energy in the bar shifts. It's like everyone freezes, a collective whoosh of air washing through the bodies hunched over at the bar, loitering on the walls, perched on the wrought iron chairs out back.
The regulars look at one another and then return to studying the TV, or each other, their half empty drinks.
You don't need to look, to know.
You can feel them.
Apparently, so can your date.
"Don't look, but there are two guys staring at you, across the bar." You bat your eyelashes.
"Who?" It's innocent, this kind of play. Playing dumb. It's pure, until your chin turns over your shoulder and find them, white knuckled and focused, Johnny alight with anger, Simon stoic as ever. Sadness, and rage, roar inside your head, and you force yourself to look them in their eyes. Force yourself to be brave.
After a second, you turn away and into your date. He pulls you closer, palm resting on your lower back, mouth dangerously close above your ear. "Are they bothering you?" What a nice guy.
"No." You assuage immediately. You know what would happen, if he tried to be your knight in shining armor. You know how it would end.
With blood. Broken bones. And tears.
"Let's keep playing." You suggest. "Will you show me how to hold the stick?" Your teeth hold onto the last syllable, hand wrapping around the polished length of the wood, slowly moving it up and down. Your heart pounds, but a thrill rushes through you at the same time. Fuck them. Your date raises an eyebrow, mouth cocking into a sly smile, and nods.
After your third drink, you can't delay using the bathroom anymore. Skin tingling from all the places his hands have traversed, you're dizzy with the pulse of power, the high of your performance. It's wrong, and twisted but...
they deserve it. They deserve worse.
"I'll be right back." You promise, tracing a fingernail down his arm. "Get another round?" He trots off, eager to please.
The chairs scrape as soon as you turn into the dingy hallway, and their shadows fill the air, sucking it dry. You resist the urge to turn, palm flat against the swinging door of the toilets.
"What are ye doin'?" Johnny rages, and you turn to mouth off, only to jerk backwards at the realization of how close he is. You can count the flecks of gold around his irises, see the shimmer of cerulean blue. Simon stands at his back, a wall blocking out the rest of the hall, hiding you from view.
"I'm on a date." Simon laughs.
"You call this little show a date, sweetheart? Is that what you think that is?"
"Not sure you'd know what I'm like on a date since you never took me on one." You spit, and Johnny goes rigid, muscles hardening.
"Not sure that little boy would know the first thing about handlin' ye."
"Handling me?" The squeak your voice makes is embarrassing and incredulous at the same time. "Handle me? You think I need handling? I'm a full grown woman. I don't need-" He presses closer, close enough you can smell him, and your mouth drops open when he pushes you against the wall, cock hard under his jeans. "J-johnny."
"Aye, we think ye need handlin'. Ye're only supposed to be handled by us. Not by some sad wank who cannae stop droolin' like a dog."
"Stop." The resolve in your voice wavers, your resistance cracking and crumbling as Simon appears beside him, mouth pressing to your ear.
"You think that boy has a fat cock to feed you, sweet girl? Think he knows how-" One of them cups you between your legs over the fabric of your dress, palm grinding against your clit, and you grit your teeth against the friction, the moan it tries to pull from your throat. "to take care of this pussy?"
"She's high maintenance, ye know." Johnny snickers, lips dotting your cheek, down to your neck. He cups a fistful of your breast, thumb stroking where your nipple strains beneath your bra. "Ye think he'll be able to make ye gush for him? Make ye cum on his cock?" You're boiling, anger and desire feeding twin flames, trying to sputter out a response.
"What's going on here?" Your date practically shouts from the edge of the hallway, and Simon's grin turns feral. Predatory.
Fear strikes, and turns you cold.
"D-don't." You try to implore.
"Are you okay?" Your poor date catches your gaze, and you try to will him away with your eyes.
"Leave him alone." You plead.
"Fuck off mate. This is between us and our girl. Ye're done here."
"Excuse me?" He steps closer, and Simon pushes off the wall. Desperate, you latch onto his forearm.
"Simon, please. He's not-"
"He said you're done here." Simon snarls. "Run along like a good boy."
"Fuck you." He postures, and you shake your head frantically, trying to step out between them. Johnny doesn't budge, keeping you half pinned against the wall.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Maybe you'd like to watch us fuck her, after we make you beg for it. After we stretched out your neglected little hole." Johnny laughs, a cackle full of crow, smart and mischievous, and you nearly faint. Your date looks sick.
He takes one look at you, another look at the boys... and then flees. Johnny whistles. "Coward."
When they both turn back...
you burst into tears.
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sykostyles · 2 days
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melodies | 1.0
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summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless mafia boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that. wc: 3.1k
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warnings: none this time around!
a/n: hi babies! I disappeared again but I swear I'm here! I won't lie to you all, I lost momentum for a bit but my dear love @gurugirl gave me the idea of repurposing my jjk fics for Harry! so this is my first attempt at that. I hope you all enjoy!
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Harry had been renovating his new estate for about a year now. Deciding on only the best of the best, but when it came to musical items that he wanted placed variously around his house; he wanted something more lived in. More story holding. Something that looks like it had been used and loved by many. That’s where he found you and your little shop “Encore Records” in the heart of downtown. 
He wanted a grand piano, but he didn't just want any grand piano. He wanted the grand piano you had on display in your store. The one your grandfather left to you from his touring days. Your grandfather was a traveling artist, carting this piano around to every city, every country. It’d been more places than you. It sat dead center in your shop, surrounded by records, plants and various instruments customers could test out before placing orders. The only thing unavailable to order was the piano. It served as a centerpiece that you played fairly often, especially while customers perused the store and Ellie ran the cash register.  
Harry had been stopping in probably two or three times a week to try talking you into selling him the piano for his home; not taking no for an answer. Sometimes Ellie would have to fend him off while you were working in the back. Ellie would then always dash to the back to tell you what happened before another customer would walk in.
“That big mafia guy was in here again!” she says, tapping you on the shoulder.
“Huh?” you ask, pulling one of your earbuds out., slightly startled from the touch.
“You know, the tall darkhaired one who’s hot as fuck, and defintely thinks the same about you,” Ellie says, motioning to your frame, giggling at your disgusted look. “The one with the huge hands,” she winked at you.
“Ellie, he wants the piano, not me.”
“Girl, he wants both.” she chuckles, “You’re allowed to be proud of yourself,” and she's leaving you alone. Proud of yourself for what? For some Yakuza man coming into your store every day, possibly scaring off possible customers? Not everyone wants to come in here when there’s a guy with a gun strapped to his chest, followed by three other men who are also armed. 
He’d offered you millions of dollars in return for the piano, but no amount of money could replace the memories you have sitting with your grandfather at this piano every night while he taught you how to play. Or the nights you’d gotten to be with him on tour and see him on stage sitting at the damn thing every night. There was no way you were going to give it up. But there was no way he was going to give up either.
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It was a rainy Tuesday the next time Harry decided to come in. Another attempt at your piano, but today something in him changed.
Walking in, Harry notices you’d just opened so there weren't any customers yet. You still haven't fixed the doorbell either, another thing he’ll have to chastise you for today. He hears you before he sees you, singing along with the radio playing Forever Young by Rod Stewart through the speakers of your store, as you stand behind the counter on a step ladder rearranging the wall of weekly favorites. 
“And may you grow to be proud
Dignified and true..”
Harry can’t believe his ears; the angelic timbre of your voice and how it just rolls right off of your tongue so effortlessly.
“And do unto others
As you'd have done to you..”
He could listen to you all day long. In fact, he just might. He takes a seat on the piano bench, and just listens.
“Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart you'll always stay
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young”
Once the song is over, you turn on the stool to grab something behind you, and you're startled by Harry’s presence. 
“Jesus, Styles. Didn’t anyone teach you to knock?” you nearly fall off of the ladder,
“On a business’ door? No.” he smirks at you. “Didn’t anyone tell you to fix your doorbell? Pretty sure I did last week. And the week before that,” Harry counts on his fingers, scolding you, “I’ll just have someone come do it for you.” He snaps his fingers, pointing at the man standing on his right. A tall, broad man with blonde hair. He smiles as he pulls his phone from inside his jacket.
“No, no Styles. Boundaries, remember?” you watch as he strides over to you, offering you his hand to help you off the ladder, but you ignore his gesture; placing your hands on the back of the ladder, stepping down, and turning to face him.
“Birdie, I’m not taking no for an answer. Your safety is at risk, and that’s not okay.” He retorts, the blonde haired man already returning from making the phone call. He looks to Harry, giving him a singular nod, to which Harry nods back. “Repair man will be here soon.”
“Why do you even care? If I died, you could probably get a good deal on the piano.” your eyes involuntarily roll,  “And I told you Birdie is reserved for my friends and those fortunate enough to see me naked, and you are neither of those things. Nor are you buying my piano.” Your hands are planted firmly on your hips as the words leave you.
Birdie was a nickname your grandfather gave you when you were young. Always running about singing like a bird. He’d scoop you up and you’d squeal, making him laugh with you. You were just a little birdie that wanted to sing her heart out. It’s what your mother wanted before she passed away. This store was your way of honoring your mother and your grandfather. They both instilled your love of music into you. 
Mom loved singing karaoke anywhere she could; praying she’d get recognized by someone who saw potential in her. And oh boy, did she. But she had you and you were her main priority and nobody could deal with that when she’d mentioned she had a daughter to the talent agents. Her heart was broken but watching you grow up was what she really enjoyed. She just made sure you had the same love for music as she did.
“Ouch, you don’t see me as a friend yet? I practically come to see you every day.” he trails his fingertips up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Plus, if you were to die, I wouldn't be able to ask you to sing to me every day.”
“You weren’t supposed to hear that. Nobody was,” you mutter. Nobody had heard you sing since before your grandfather passed away. He always begged you to go on tour with him and sing some of his songs with him but you always doubted your ability.
“Well, maybe if your doorbell was working, you could have stopped before I did.” The cocky man stands before you, hands in his pockets as he retracts them.
“Do you like hearing the sound of your own voice? Wouldn’t you rather listen to music?”
“Mm, sometimes. But the only music I want to hear is your voice telling me “I love you” for the rest of my life.”
“Fat chance, Mr. Mafia man. Now, if you’re not here for anything other than to bother me about my doorbell and my piano, please leave.” your hands make haste to wipe the counter off before you lean back on the ladder. “What about a date?” you nearly choke on your own oxygen at his question.
“I’m sorry?” you giggle your response, unable to believe what he’d just said. Maybe Ellie was right.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he chuckles, “I’ll repeat it for you. I’d like to take you out on a date, Birdie.”
“Sty–”
“Harry. I’ve told you to call me Harry.” You don't miss the way his men behind him offer each other uneasy glances. He must not let anyone refer to him by his first name, and you’re not about to start either.
“Styles, that’s not going to happen.”
“You wound me some more,” he dramatically clutches his chest, “I’ll change your mind one day.. Just watch,” he says as he makes his way to the door, his men leaving before he does. “Have a good day, Birdie. See you tomorrow.”
You’re staring into space as he leaves, thinking of the extravagant date he’d probably take you on. He’d probably be able to give you the Pretty Woman moment you’ve always dreamed of. The heels, the long red dress, the lipstick to perfectly match and the updo hairstyle to tie it all together. Harry would probably make the best Edward Lewis in your life. But you’d never admit that out loud.
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An unknown amount of time passes before you’re startled again; Ellie’s voice snaps you out of it. “Helloooo, Earth to Y/N!” she snaps her fingers in front of your face.
“Shit, sorry. I was stuck, haha,” you rub your eyes before looking at her face and offering her a smile. She hands you the coffee she had hid under her arm before tucking her belongings under the counter. You went back up the step ladder after grabbing the dust rag you’d gone looking for before you were so graciously interrupted by Harry. “Good morning, by the way.”
“Why did Mafia man just tell me you agreed to go on a date with him?”
“Huh?” you quickly turn to face her on the ladder, the legs wobbling under your jerking movements.
“He walked by me on my way up the sidewalk saying he finally got you to agree to a date and that I owed him the hundred bucks we bet on.”
“HUH?” nearly losing your footing for the second time today, you make your way down the ladder.
“Why are you acting like you don't know what I'm talking about?” she eyes you quizzically.
“Because I don’t know what you’re talking about! What bet?” your hands find your hips again.
“Why are you more interested in my wrong doings? He’s out here lying about you!” Ellie waves her hands back and forth, feigning innocence. 
“And my best friend is betting against me!”
“Semantics! C’mon, y’know I'm not actually going to pay him. He’s got more money than any one person knows what to do with.”
“That’s not the point, Ellie. You bet against me! How could you?” you toss the dust rag at her, feigning annoyance.
“Because I see the way you look at him when he’s here!” she tosses it back at you. 
“Ellie, he’s literally a yakuza. I can’t entangle myself in that, whether I like him or not,” you’d love to just let him spend a night with you but, a night with him is a night with five other people that go everywhere with him.
“Birdie, you have to live a little. Enjoy the thrill. Plus, he’d probably keep you so safe.”
“While simultaneously putting me in the most danger I've ever been in.
“Okay, but the one with the double buns on top of his head is hot and I want that one so i need you to take one for the team and go on a date with this man.”
“Is that your part of some deal you made?” you jokingly accuse her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, just go on a date with him.”
“You go on a date with him,” you huff and you leave her up front. To which it only lasts about fifteen minutes before she’s coming into the back room telling you some random guy is there fixing the doorbell and isn't taking ‘no’ for an answer.. 
You just roll your eyes.
Ellie just wants you to be happy, no matter the cost. And you think maybe she’s not weighing the cost as much as you are. Sure, you’d be under protection at all times but the fact that the protection needs to be there at all times means you’re in just as much danger. Which does not totally sit right with you, but he is very persistent. And fairly beautiful. But you have to think with your brain and not your vagina for once.
A few hours later, you’re rearranging the Pop section of records when the phone rings. Ellie picks up with her normal “Encore Records, this is Ellie,” a few seconds pass before you hear her speak again. “Hm, let me ask real fast she’s right here. Hey, Birdie, do you have a piano lesson available tonight at 6?” 
“Humm, I think so, check in my calendar. Take it if I do, please!” you go back to putting the Ariana Grande records in order by year. You hear Ellie laugh with the customer on the phone before she hangs up, thanking them for their business. “So do I have a piano lesson at 6 now?”
“Yeah, said his son's name was Niall and that he had been hounding him to learn piano from the lady at the big CD store.”
“His son sounds adorable! I’m looking forward to teaching him.” you smile at the thought.
“You just like the ego boost,” Ellie side eyes you with a laugh.
“You should try shutting up,” you chuckle, going back to arranging your floor inventory; moving to the Metal section.
Six rolls around and you’re pulling the sheet music you have for teaching beginners around on the stand. Ellie makes her way up front to gather her things, reaching under the counter and turning the lights down.
A huff leaves you, “Hey, I still have that piano lesson tonight.”
“I know,” she gives you a look, “Have the best time, Birdie, and she’s out the door.” Uh, okay?
Right after Ellie leaves, the doorbell sounds again and you turn to be met with Harry.
“Styles, I have a piano less–,” you pause, “There is no piano lesson for a boy named Nial is there?”
“He’s Niall,” Harry motions behind him to the man who called about your doorbell earlier. “And I’m the one who’s here for the lesson.”
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Seated at the bench next to him, you can't believe you’re actually going through with this. But if he hadn’t put a deposit down over the phone, you wouldn't have. Clearly Harry and Ellie had cooked this scheme up somehow. You almost appreciate the effort.
“You don’t seem to need a lesson,” you remark, watching him mimic your motions without even trying.
“Would you be upset with me if I said I didn't?” He starts playing Forever Young on the piano, making your eyes widen.
“Not upset, confused,” your eyes are glued to his hands, fingers flowing effortlessly over the keys.
“Just wanted an excuse to talk to you for longer than a few minutes.” Harry’s hands keep up the melody.
“You’re not going to let this up are you?” your eyes roll for the millionth time because of this man. He has a way of making your skin crawl in a good way. But again that’s something you’d never admit;
“After I heard that singing voice? Never,” he smiles over at you, continuing to play the song on the keys. “Will you show it to me again? Please, Birdie?”
“If I say yes will you stop asking to buy my grandfather's piano?” fat chance, but you’ll try anyway.
“Scouts honor,” he winks. Huh? That easy? “Or is he just that in love with you?” You can hear Ellie say in your head. Shut up. 
As you begin singing along with his playing, Harry’s smile grows in size. His hands and arms move effortlessly across the piano, fully impressing you as you watch in awe. The words flow out of you like they did earlier today.
Once you finish, Harry looks at you like you just told him he’d won the lottery. Not that he needed to win the lottery. “You really have such an amazing voice,” he breathes out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 
“I’d call it a good harmonizing voice,” you chuckle. “I sound better with the radio.”
“I’m sorry, was I the only one with ears for the last three minutes? Mitch? Niall?” he makes you chuckle next to him as he turns to the men behind him
“I heard it Sir,” they both said in unison.
“And how did she sound?”
“Lovely, sir.” Niall says, looking over to you with a friendly smile.
“I have to agree with Niall,” Mitch says, without a smile. He seems to be more of a hardass than the other one. 
“Ah, so you are the delusional one here,” Harry turns his attention back to you. 
“Shut up. Lesson’s over,” you laugh.
“Aw, but I was just getting started. How about a date then? We can take the rest of this time somewhere else.”
“You would love that wouldn’t you?” leaves you in the form of a laugh.
“Certainly. Cmon, Y/N. I know the best place down the road. Whadya say?”
“I say you’re dreaming,” you stand from the piano bench. Walking over to the light switch, you turn the lights all the way up, making everyone wince at the sight. “And now it's time to wake up, Styles.”
“I’ll make it so worth your while. Please, just once chance, That’s all I’m asking for,” he stands and makes his way over to you. “Please, Birdie.” he runs his thumb over your cheek, you lean into the touch before you realize what you’re doing.
“If I say yes and I have a horrible time, can I reserve the right to ask you to leave me alone permanently?”
“Of course. I’d swear on it to never show my face in here again. But I promise we won’t have to worry about that. So tonight then?”
“Not tonight, how about tomorrow? After I close for the night?’
“It’s a date,” He smiles. “I’ll pick you up,”
“You mean you’ll all pick me up?” you motion to the guys behind him.
“Nah,” he shakes his head. “They’ll be around, but not with us. I want you to be comfortable.”
“Maybe you should have started with leaving them outside then,” you roll your eyes, “No offense, boys,”
“None taken,” they say in unison again. Harry snaps his fingers and the men leave.
“You didn’t have to do that,” a chuckle leaves you again. You head for the door but Harry softly grabs your arm.
“Leave em, I’m heading out anyways, he slides his grip down your arm until he’s holding your hand, offering a kiss to your knuckles. “Until tomorrow, dear Birdie. He kisses your hand once again, turning to leave.
“B-bye, Styles.”
“Harry,”
“If you impress me, then maybe.”
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zanarkandskylines · 3 days
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listening to fortnight got me thinking about bakugo and reader having a very brief fling, something that happened in the past during their 20s, but stuck with both of them for years.
i touched you for only a fortnight i touched you, but i touched you
fast forward to living in the same city, the two of you now in your 30s and end up becoming neighbors by happenstance. you're both married to other people since you only talked in shared friend group settings after said fling.
all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february
you watch his wife water her flowers in the garden out back while making coffee in the kitchen every goddamn morning. you have no clue why it irks you so much, that the sight of her stupid smile makes you wanna punch her lights out.
occasionally, you run into bakugo at your mailboxes after a long day at work. small talk is the only thing you two can muster - a comment about the weather or harmless compliments about each other's appearance.
"sure rained like hell yesterday."
"nice sweater, your wife buy it for you?"
"god, it's too fucking hot today."
"that dress looks nice on ya."
one night, both of your spouses are away when a storm comes raging through the city. your power goes out, leaving you in the dark because your stupid husband forgot to replace the generator. from your windows, you see bakugo's household has power and decide to hightail it over for some company.
he answers the door with a confused look on his face. "the fuck you doin' in the rain? get in here!"
bakugo makes you a coffee to share with him in the kitchen, bullshitting through the night like you used to do as twenty somethings. it felt natural, your heart soaring as you watched him laugh and retell jokes from the past. when the conversation died down, you blurted out something you didn't plan to vocalize to anyone.
"i think my husband's cheating. sometimes i just wanna kill the bastard."
caught off guard by your admittance, bakugo quirks an eyebrow at you in response. "little extreme, but i'm sure that could be arranged."
"would be cheaper than a damn divorce. that asshole would take everything from me."
he snickers, taking another sip of his coffee. "think my wife's doin' the same. comes home late and shit, never can tell me why."
"how'd we get stuck with this shit luck?" you retort, forcing a laugh from your tightened chest.
"could be worse. we're neighbors, that's fuckin' lucky for me."
i love you...it's ruining my life.
"oh? i'm starting to think that's not a coincidence anymore."
bakugo sets his mug on the countertop, turning to face you while crossing his arms over the broadness of his chest.
"might'a convinced my wife to move here. thought maybe we could be friends again."
"so you bought a fucking house next to me instead of just calling to go to dinner?" you ask mockingly, a smirk on your face as you awaited his bullshit answer.
he shakes his head with a grin of his own. "sure did."
i love you...it's ruining my life.
"how come you never ask or invite me over then? we're literal neighbors, kats."
"pretty sure my wife's scared of ya. plus, i want time with you, not us."
that makes your heart skip a beat.
"hell of a way to say you miss me." you pause before setting your own cup down on the counter. "i'm glad you're here."
"me too."
right as he's approaching you, the front door swings open.
"babe, i'm home!" his wife calls, handful of shopping bags. she sees you standing in the kitchen aside bakugo - you give her a soft wave.
"oh, hi. i didn't expect company tonight."
"her dumbass husband forgot to replace their generator. just helpin' her out."
she gives him a glare, tilting her chin up at him, almost condescendingly, as she assesses his answer.
"how unfortunate. stay as long as you need, i'm gonna go put this away."
and with that, she leaves for their bedroom to unload her shopping haul. once she's out of earshot, you turn to bakugo and chuckle under your breath.
"oh yeah, she hates me."
bakugo rolls his eyes. "let her be miserable, it's her strong suit. come on, let's go take'a look at that generator."
the generator works just fine, you unplugged it before coming over.
you were curious if there was a spark leftover between you two, only to find the fire was not only stoked, but never fully extinguished.
blasty tags; @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon @starieq ✨
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sunkissed-zegras · 7 hours
Note
Paige nsfw hcs pls
─ warnings | NSFW under the cut! read at your own discretion!
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
─ ev's notes | the long awaited nsfw headcanons for paigey, i finally got the motivation to write it after i kept reading the INSANE smut yall keep writing (keep it up im lovin it) also this is such a mess, this is just rambling and not organized whatsoever, but wtv i hope yall enjoyed :)
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woo, where do i even begin?
let's begin with the obvious, paige is a TOP, i can't stress this enough
i genuinely can't see anyone topping her she's just .... a TOP
but that doesn't mean she won't let you take the reigns every once in awhile, esp after a bad game/tiring practice because everyone once to be taken care of sometimes
i'm def not the first person to say this and certainly will not be the last but STRAP GAME GOES SOOOOO HARD
i feel like at first she's gonna be weirded out cus like... she likes only girls for a reason??? and she has her mouth and fingers??? why would she need a piece of plastic to make her girl feel good???
but the first time y'all try it, she's hooked
she forgets ab her hands after that
jk but like
yeah she's HOOKED
she gets really into it LOL, def can imagine her calling the strap her dick
oh and she fucks HARDDDD like, no room to breathe or anything
like you'll be gasping for air after and she'll be super duper proud
i read this one fic with like the dual ended one (i didn't even know that existed) and then i was like yep, yes this is the oneee
with positions, i can't see her doing anything more than like missionary (cus she loves to see your pretty face) and like from the back
but as soon as she discovers riding, it's OVERRRRR for you
she's making you ride her strap anytime she can, cus she loves it
she has her hands on your hips as she's guiding you and she LOVES IT so fucking much, like the power she has over you makes her go feral
oh and do not get me started on sucking her strap, cus again she loves the power she holds over you
she has your hair in a ponytail and the more you get comfortable with the whole thing, she WILL make you gag
she acts like it's her dick (yeah i know we covered that) but like esp when you're sucking her strap, she will just dirty talk u the entire time
"you like my dick, pretty girl? like gagging on my dick?" cus yeah, u do
oh and yes, she does have breeding kink
it breaks her heart that she can't get you pregnant 😪
but she sure as hell will pretend to!!!!!
will 100% bend you over and just yap about getting you pregnant
also if she's fucking you in missionary, she expects you to look at her the entire time
so if you turn away, she will grab your face and keep you looking straight at her
FUCK IDK WHY THAT'S SO HOT
paige is a D1 yapper i fear, and that would 10000% seep into the bedroom LMAO
mostly praise cus babygirl would feel really bad but when she gets into, she GETS into it
like she will call you her slut as she's about cum
that post-nut clarity goes hard the first time tho cus she's like no way i called my gf a dirty fucking slut 😭😭 she sits with her thoughts for a good 10 minutes trying to recollect herself
she is a munch for sure, like she will eat you out for hours and hours on end (not an exaggeration btw)
but she LOVES when you give back
it makes her go fucking feral when she sees you eating her out, like yessssssssssssss
she has to close her eyes bc if she keeps looking at your face, she WILL cum
she has a bad hair pulling problem, like she will grip your hair so hard your head will hurt after
it's apart of the appeal tho 🎀
her fav spot to get absolutely ate is her gaming chair cus like, she needs you in between her legs giving her support to get that victory royale 💯💯💯
she hates when she gets ass or tits bc she genuinely cannot pick
it depends on the day bc they're both great, she will never pick one
i feel like she's definitely thought ab fucking you in public but she can't risk it
SHES A D1 ATHLETE !!
the only time yall did was in a bathroom at an event and it was SOOO bad afterwards cus everyone could tell
you had to pretend like you didn't get your brains fucked out and paige had to pretend she didn't DO the fucking
but lowkey she enjoyed it a lot, but would she do it again?
maybe, a solid maybe (with the right motivation)
okay but like ....
she def has fingered u while the girls are over cus like, she was in a silly mood?
you just looked too fucking good, she had to
but thank god no one noticed (at least to yalls knowledge...)
she's a horny fuck ARGUE WITH THE WALL
she will get turned on by anything you do, like homegirl is just sooooo down bad for you
you could be applying chapstick and paige will be like "we need to fuck, now."
paige's aftercare is just giving you water and cuddling with you for 10 mis while scrolling on tiktok and then gets up to play fortnite with kk
she literally is the tiktok where it's like "after he rearranges my organs he goes and plays fortnite" i hope yall know what i'm talking about
but you don't mind ofc cus she makes you sit on her lap while playing
but then turns into another round cus shes a horny fuck
paige is all for hickies on YOU but she gets pissed when you give her a hickey cus she's like people are gonna see
like she's the only one who has to deal with the public 🙄🙄🙄
but she loves marking you EVERYWHERE, esp on your collarbone like it's so sexy
oh and god bless you in the summer, the ones on your thighs are getting AIRED OUT bc paige does not care
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lizzieisright · 1 day
Text
Moon peppers (4)
(1) (2) (3)
Palestine: what can you do
were!Abby x witch!reader
Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.
Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding (fuck it we ball), fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.
Notes: how do I keep hating the witch after she saved my life asking for a friend
Taglist: @abbysbae @poxismind @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @pjmispunk @herdelreydear @lmaoo-spiderman @littletinyladybugs (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)
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Your morning is.. odd. You expected yourself to forget how to control so much magic, but instead it feels better than the last ten years you spent being weak. You really couldn't live like this: it made you feel vulnerable and helpless, and now that your power is back, you feel like yourself again.
In a way it terrifies you. Because you were a completely different person ten years ago, and now you don't want your old habits back. You don't like seeing your tattoos and runes, especially the ones on your forearms, but you try your best to make peace with it. Your tattoos have almost nothing to do with your power - they're just channels for your magic, a spellbook engraved in your skin. They were faint before yesterday, fading away as your powers grew weaker, but they were still there, and they will not disappear until you die. You have to accept it, and maybe, if you don't make stupid decisions this time, you'll change your heart about them. 
You meditate before breakfast to manage your flow of magic exactly like Caitlyn showed you, even though you expect the wolf to wake up at any moment and trash your still room. But the wolf is asleep - you can feel it through the bond, which is annoying: you don't like having your space disturbed like this. You're sure the wolf won't like it too. You concentrate on the bond between you to see how well the healing is happening and it makes you groan - fat chance it will be finished by the evening, with this pace it will take a whole damn week. The thought of spending more than a day with the wolf makes you depressed.
Abby wakes up. This fact alone shakes her to her core: she is not dead. She is supposed to be dead, what the fuck? More than that, she feels almost okay - she is not supposed to feel mostly okay, she fucking died! She knows this, because no way in hell she hallucinated having her throat ripped out. 
Then Abby opens her eyes, tries to move - and goes into survival mode. She is in a still room and she is restrained. All her paws are chained and she can't move. This is worse than death. Oh god, this is so much worse. 
Abby tugs on her chains with all her power, but they down even bulge. Abby growls and coils and tries again, but she only hits the wall with her back. Abby starts to panic: she can't stay here - the fucking witch bound her! She is in debt to the witch! She needs to leave before you come and order her to do something horrible. 
Abby tries again, but this time the door to the still room opens and Abby sees the creepy glowing eyes of yours. Abby starts to move around even more violently - she doesn't want you anywhere near her. You're one of the rare monsters of this world and she needs to either get away from you or to kill you, but she is not staying here. The moment she is free she will rip you to shreds. 
At least you look scared when you enter the room and you keep the biggest distance possible from her. Abby growls and snarls, clasping her jaws around the air, eager to kill you. 
“It's not what it looks like.” You blurt, your arm in the air as if you want to tell her you came in peace. 
Abby growls louder. 
“Listen, I'll free you if you calm the fuck down and turn into human form so we can talk.”
Abby is so angry she doesn't even consider the possibility of calming down or pretending to calm down. 
“Or I can force you to turn into a human.” You say in a shaky voice, as if you're yourself scared of this possibility. 
This actually makes Abby stop. She doesn't want you near her, so she needs to pick the least of two evils. Abby growls and starts to change, her fur disappears and her bones rearrange. The chains tighten around her human wrists and now she is sitting on your floor, glaring at you, her shirt ripped on her sides and her pants dirty.  
“Thank you. I will explain everything and then I'll free you, okay?” Abby just growls at you again. 
You swallow hard: the wolf is even scarier as a human. The woman is big and strong and her claws are out still, her arms are bulging with muscles, and the way she looks at you doesn't help you calm your nerves. Her shirt is red from blood and it only makes her look scarier. You clear your throat and start speaking.
“Yesterday I found you dead, and the woods wanted me to save you. So I did. Right now you're still in the process of healing and if you go too far away from me, the energy will stop coming and you will die. This is why I brought you here. I also knew you would want to kill me or you'd run away, so I chained you. Now, please make peace with the fact that you're stuck with me for a while and then I will release you. Good? Good.”
Abby growls, humbled. She doesn't want to make peace with it, but you do sound logical. And you're still scared of her, which is a good sign: maybe you won't have the guts to hurt her. 
“Am I blood bound to you?” Abby growls and you look offended and angry, which confuses Abby. And also amuses. 
“Fuck you.” You spit. “Not all witches are like this, you ungrateful beast. The only bound you have is the energy one that heals you. After that you're free to leave and please don't ever see me again. Jerk.”
You flick your fingers for the chains to disappear and stomp out of the still room. You knew this werewolf was an asshole, but holy fuck! 
The wolf stomps after you.
“It would not have happened if you didn't take all the moon peppers!” The woman argues and follows you to the kitchen. You turn around and stare at this ungrateful, entitled shit of a wolf. 
“First of all, as if a bunch of moon peppers would have saved you from getting your throat ripped out!” You snap back and get into her face, angry and stubborn. “Second of all, maybe if you didn't fucking attack me and talked to me instead I would have shared some of them!” You flip your arms around in frustration.
“Because witches are famous for being helpful and kind.” The wolf snarls at you and you can't believe the audacity of her. 
But she is also right. She did have all the reasons to attack you and not trust you. You calm down a bit and take a step back. 
“It's still idiotic to attack a witch. I might've not been so nice.”
“You were shitting your pants in fear.” The wolf deadpans.
“As if I wouldn’t find a way to get my revenge without a direct attack. You're exceptionally stupid.” You huff and the wolf growls. “You took my friend's den, covered it in blood and attacked me. Do you comprehend what I could have done if I wanted to? You know why witches use blood binding? Because it  makes us stronger.” You hiss sadistically into the blonde's face.
For a second there's fear in the wolf's eyes, and some part of you feel satisfied. The other part, though, feels disgusted with you. You take a breath. 
“I'm sorry. You just really pissed me off being so stubborn about your own safety.” You sigh and rub your face. 
The silence falls and you go to the kitchen to cook some breakfast for yourself and for this stupid wolf: after all, you will be stuck together and if someone will be nasty and poison the shared time, it won't be you. 
Abby blinks. She feels lost. She expected you to be some kind of creep or a sadist, even if you were afraid of her; and she knew you could've bound her - that's exactly what she thought happened. But she didn't expect you to actually be nice. Well, relatively nice: you chained her for her own good, then threatened her and now you just apologised to her, and Abby feels like a fool if she continues being mean to you. She really doesn't have any ground to mistreat you except some rumours and her awful, but limited experience. She only met one witch before. 
Well. She can play nice too. 
“I'm Abby.” Abby says grumpily, still not ready to believe you: you just threatened to bind her, for god's sake!
You hum and tell her your name as well while you cut vegetables with aggressive vigour. Abby assumes you're imagining cutting her into pieces. 
It's awkward. It is really, really awkward. You're obviously still frustrated and Abby doesn't burn with desire to talk to you either. Plus she is in your home and she definitely doesn't know where to put herself. She settles for a stool near you. Abby stares at your back and your arms silently, and then she is hit with the realisation. 
“You didn't have tattoos before.” 
You smirk sadly. 
“Yeah, well. Before that I didn't have to revive a whole werewolf.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Ask the forest. They made a deal with me.”
How calculating, Abby thinks. Also: how the fuck do you deal with a forest?
“So you still do deals.” 
“It's different.” You say sharply. “I don't blood bind.”
“I get it.” Abby huffs and backs off: a witch who doesn't like blood binding, might be a goddamn oxymoron. “So for how long am I stuck with you?”
“Three days, probably. Maybe more, depending how fast you'll heal.”
“I heal fast.”
“Don't compare your usual healing with coming back from the dead. Who knows how much of your brain died. That's why you can't be far away from me. You go away, you break the bond, your brain dies. Got it?”
Abby hums. She has never heard of anyone being able to revive someone. She thinks you know some old forbidden magic if you can bring people back, and it just doesn't match with what she sees: a scaredy cat who lives in the woods and has to spend hours fishing to get three fish. Your home is cosy and warm, with a lot of natural light and Abby doesn't understand how you could have saved her life: you’re soft and weak and live in a house suited for some kind old lady, not a witch who could bring people from the dead. How much fucking power a witch would need to even do that?
“How far is too far?” 
“If I stay here and you go beyond my shields, you're dead.”
Abby sighs, annoyed. She doesn't want to stay next to you for three days. She is somewhat grateful for being alive, but it's weird. It's very weird to be in one space with you. 
You place two plates and sit opposite of Abby. Abby looks at her plate and wants to hesitate, to think, but she is so fucking hungry she starts eating right away. 
It's not…bad. Edible. (God she will have to eat like this for three more days?)
You watch the wolf- Abby's face and can't help your smile. Unfortunately you're very familiar with the fact you can't cook - Cait and Vi tried it once and since then you don't host dinners anymore; sometimes Cait sends you back with food - but you didn't expect the wolf to be so sensitive to your food. You eat it just fine after all. 
“It's bad.” You laugh. 
“It is.” Abby agrees. “Did you do it on purpose?”
“What? No. My taste senses are just fucked up by a lot of potions.”
You see how Abby tenses and you sigh: it's strange to have your everyday life being seen as some kind of horror story. There's a lot of rumours about witches that are mostly true, but you don't think of Abby as a mindless, uncivilised beast even though she is a were, so there should be room to believe that some witches are not that bad. 
(You think of your past and feel ashamed: it's not like you were “not that bad” all your life). 
“Don't tell me you've never drunk a potion.” You try to appeal to Abby's own experience, but you know she might have a bad one. “From coughing? Pain killers? Never?”
“Are you saying witches brew them?” Abby smirks like you're ridiculous. 
“Well, yes. We sell them for money, that's how everyone gets them.” 
Abby is silent as she chews your food that you think is quite edible, actually - but she drinks her flower milk with every spoon and you take a wild guess she can't stomach it. 
“Okay, listen. Are you a good cook?”
“Yes, actually. Everyone with enhanced senses makes a good cook.” Abby says with pride and you see her blue eyes sparkle. She also has freckles. Which is kinda cute. 
“Then you can cook whatever you want and not suffer.” You offer. 
Abby frowns at you like she expects some kind of trickery. You sigh again and raise your hands in defeat. You tried. 
“Do you have any meat?”
“...No.”
“And I can't hunt.” Abby explains to you like you're stupid. You roll your eyes. 
“There's fish in the freezer. It should be fine.” 
That's how Abby spends her afternoon: cooking fish. She has to ask you for other ingredients and you send her to your still room, which makes her shiver. It's creepy - just like you are with your eyes and tattoos and potion drinking or whatever - and Abby thinks of people trapped in these still rooms and being experimented on. She is happy she doesn't see any kind of animal parts on your shelves. You're out of the house for the most part: when Abby looks out of the window, she sees you sitting on the ground, absolutely still. Weirdo. 
“At least this weirdo is harmless compared to her kin.” Abby says to herself while she cuts the fish.  
You also saved her life and didn't ask for anything in return - not counting leaving you alone after - and Abby really struggles to keep thinking of you as a monster. You don't seem half-bad. And she should make friends here, now that she doesn't have a pack. The thought of being friends with a witch actually makes Abby laugh out loud.
After lunch, which is spent mostly in silence except for your praise on Abby's cooking, you tell her you'll be in the still room and that she can find something to be busy with. You point at books and yarn. Abby rolls her eyes. 
She has absolutely nothing to do. Her instincts are going crazy as well: your home looks like it needs an alpha. You're not an omega, and you don't need Abby's help, but she feels like she'll go insane if she doesn't fix something. She fights her urges, but after an hour she gives up and sharpens your knives. It makes her feel easier and she can read in peace now. 
You come back in a few hours and sit on the opposite end of your sofa, exhausted. Abby doesn't look at you. 
“Tomorrow I'm supposed to go to the village for my check ups. You'll have to come with me.”
Abby frowns. She doesn't want to show her face in the village - what if some of her former packmates are still around and will notice her? 
“Can your deals wait?” You sigh loudly, annoyed: can this wolf be nice for one fucking minute or is Abby trying to establish some kind of hierarchy in your house?
“I am a healer.” You deadpan, tired of dealing with Abby’s shit. “People need me.” 
“It's not safe for me to show up like this.” Abby scrunches her nose.
“I guess it’s connected to the fact that you were dead yesterday.” You say and Abby can only nod. “I can hide you, if you want. There's a spell that will not let people recognise you if they mean harm.”
Abby coils back. She doesn't want any fucking spells to be put on her! But in a second she clears her head and thinks about it: she clearly doesn’t have a choice if she wants to survive. And you offer her help, so maybe it’s not too bad. 
“How can I know you're not fucking with me?” You blink and Abby tries not to look you in the eyes: you look like an owl. And not in a cute way. 
“Can't you smell if I lie? I know weres can smell emotions. Also, the bond we have can make you feel awful if I try to harm you.”
Abby hums, thinking it over.
“Okay. But if you try any funny business, you're dead.”
“You'll be dead too, idiot.” You roll your eyes at Abby and she rolls hers in return. 
The wolf is kinda annoying. You can understand her distrust, but her threats are getting ridiculous. 
The last step of this strange and mostly unpleasant day is getting ready for bed. You look at your small sofa and try to think how Abby will fit, but the other option is the floor, which you assume she won't appreciate. You give her the choice anyway, Abby looks between the sofa and the floor like it's a hard choice, like she thinks the floor is a valid option. Then she agrees to sleep on the sofa. (I'll turn back if I'm uncomfortable, she tells you.) You bring her a pillow and a few blankets: the nights are getting cold and you usually use your magic to keep the hut warm, but you can slip up when you sleep, and wake up to a freezing house. 
“Why don't you use wood like normal people?” 
“It's too much work. I can find a tree that fell, but you need to chop it, bring it here, chop more, store the logs. Nah. Magic is easier.” 
Abby huffs. 
“So you rely on your magic all the time.”
“And you rely on your senses and strength.” You deadpan. 
Abby doesn't say anything in return, having no valid arguments. You sigh and make a circle with your hand, turning all lights off, and then you show Abby where the candle is in case she needs some light for her reading. Abby nods and you wish each other good night. 
You both can’t fall asleep for a long time, too bothered by each other: you don’t like having Abby in your home after she has been so nasty to you for the reason of “the witch”, and Abby doesn’t like being in your home for the reason of, well, “the witch”. She is alive, and she should be happy, but your presence is a constant threat and she can’t let herself fall asleep. You can’t fall asleep because you feel Abby, her life energy like a giant bright light in your living room and it’s hard to ignore it. You try to meditate but it seems to make you even more energised. 
You fall asleep when it’s so dark you can’t see anything beyond your windows. Abby falls asleep five minutes later.
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I've got one for ya. What were the first kisses in the N/V/Uzi relationship like. Uzi and N first, Uzi and V's first, and V and N's first.
(Bonus points for V and N's first kiss at the manner for some bittersweet angst)
Also, good golly gumdrops, love your stuff, even if you don't answer this one, still gonna keep enjoying
oh oh i love these kinds of ideas :"D tho it takes a bit of brain power to think of a good scene uhm.... lessee....
Ok so first up, although im still waiting for a canon first kiss for NUzi- since they are a thing now, i still like to think of something separate for my own version- [since obviously the main show isn't going towards a poly dynamic lmao]
See, we all know that the show is fast paced and its hard to find any empty spaces between each event, hell it almost feels like earth was blown apart and the DDs were on copper 9 the next day, Liam we need a fucking timeline order. 🙄 soooooo i personally like to imagine that there's a lot more time between events than is shown in the actual show. like- lets maybe put a few days between Uzi administrating N and V and the arrival of J and Cynessa- like.... maybe lets put a few NIGHTS between that??? what's the freaking rush 😭
But anyway yeah- i would put the first NUzi kiss somewhere around betwenn the camp and the flashback eps probably :p my idea would be that since the camp incidents, Uzi would be having a lot of bodily changes to deal with, one of which being her inability to tolerate the sun much anymore. other things would probably be the growth of literal flesh and blood and bones inside of her and lets make this morbid by adding her throwing up blood but keeping it a secret from everyone :p she may sneak back to the other two at night and stay with them- clearly shaken up- [V probably also being shaken up because on one hand she's terrified of seeing this transformation take place- but at the same time, she clearly cares enough about Uzi AND Ns happiness...] asking for help and advice- and the 3 grow closer during this. They practice with her for flying or controlling her tail- maybe some stuff on her control on oil hunger too. she probably also gets some fighting, sneaking and sparring practice with V-
//insert one of those cheesy moments where V riles up Uzi enough to tag her on the snowy ground but then realizes its the same position she got V in her solver!mode and starts panicking and pushing herself back- V getting back up and asking what the heck was that and Uzi just saying she doesn't want to hurt her and V is an insensitive jerk for making her spar with her in the first place and tries to fly away to calm down-..... which probably just ended with her falling face first in the snow and a lecture from both N and V.
overall they all started subconsciously getting even closer. tbh there's so many things i could add here but i gotta keep it a few NIGHTS not a few MONTHS until the next event 😭
either way during this i guess N and Uzi could have maybe ended up alone at some point- maybe after a flying lesson having gone right and they were a little too happy on top of a building or upturned bus or something lol- i imagine after a hug maybe Uzi asks if she could kiss N but quickly backtracks saying nvm it was stupid or something but N softly says its okay- //probably picks her up too, adding to her embarrassment- cuz she's short lmaooooo// and Uzi just decides to give a small unsure smooch- but decided to make it not too long. they decided to just hug after that to not let the other see them blushing like hell 😭 [also they didn't really decide anything after this cuz they are idiots????😭😭😭]
but anyway for the Vuzi first kiss i have no idea if or when V would return if she's been set to remain alive in the canon- but for me its probably when she appears again in her normal form, as herself. not a clone. Alice isn't alive to take the cores and make them sluggish with heat and the sentinels wouldn't have a chance against the solvers centipede lookin ass form.
Anyway if we consider that one way or another Uzi, N and V will meet up again, [and N and Uzi preferably get to share a better kiss this time-] the first thing Uzi is doing is landing a swift punch in Vs face and then kissing the daylights out of her- //confusing herself and everyone in the area in the process including V herself...// overall she would scold V on the whole "i trust you" shtick and leaving them alone- but yeah :p [ keep in mind that im also considering a few nights between when J and Cynessa show up and when they decide to actually go and find and search the labs, because PLOT REASONS :D ]
as for the first Envee kiss- ill do you one better and make it more angsty and say that N and V used to always spend time with each other and do silly things like hold hands in secret or send internal chat messages to eachother, draw and read books together- maybe N used to put flowers for her sometimes. But at some point a certain little corrupted drone started feeling possessive of her favorite "big brother" figure not spending time with her anymore...
one time, N had asked V if he could kiss her and at that they were both blushing messes but before V could respond they get interrupted- maybe by someone giving them orders or maybe by Cyn. either way, V quickly whispers to him "later, i promise" with a smile, making N happy and giddy. but the later never comes... V becomes comatose soon after... N sadly reading books to her and sometimes whispering to her to wake up and that she still has to keep her promise...
anyway after all things are said and done in the future and the solver is defeated- whether they are still living on copper 9 or any other planet idk- N, V and Uzi are all close, but since both N and V are close to Uzi, they also start spending more time with each other too. maybe one time on a walk or going out and about N was able to catch up with V and they reminisce about old memories they can now remember; and when V was finally able to open up a bit to N, he mentions that he still remembers the promise and asks her if he could kiss her again and she lets him.
and thaaaats all the brain power i have for tonight... i think... hope it made yall smile or cry or idk something lmao. :")
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mina-saiyat · 1 day
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can you make smut about Chaeyoung getting fuck by his little brother , because his little brother getting hard when she sees his unnie
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"Knock Knock..."
"Mom... so early..." Chaeyoung heard a knock on the door early in the morning, went to the door of the room, opened a small crack and slipped her head out.
"Hmm... I am going out soon... Why didn't you see Jeonghoon... He ran away early in the morning... He's not in the room..." Chaeyoung's mother looked at Chaeyoung and asked.
"Hmm... um... I heard yesterday that he was going to the library... maybe he went there early in the morning to get a seat..." Chaeyoung's little face flushed, and she panted slightly as she answered.
"Chaeyoung...are you okay...why is your face so red..." Chaeyoung's mother asked worriedly.
"Hmm...it's okay...maybe the quilt is too hot, and I just woke up...it's okay..." Chaeyoung replied with a smile.
"Okay... Mom... please go downstairs quickly..." Chaeyoung rushed her mother away anxiously.
"It's really okay... Let's go first... You have to take care of yourself... Remember to take care of your brother..." Chaeyoung's mother walked downstairs without thinking much.
"Ah... I'm going to die... You did it so hard... I almost got caught by my mother..." As soon as Chaeyoung saw her mother walking downstairs, she immediately closed the door and complained softly to Jeonghoon who was thrusting hard from behind.
"That's not it...noona...you are so sexy...I can't help it... my friend... once said that my noona's ass is big, round and curvy...it's really a pleasure to fuck her from behind..." Jeonghoon grabbed the while hitting Chaeyoung's round and soft buttocks hard from behind, Chaeyoung's buttocks were shaken by the impact.
"Ah...ah... you even discuss in private...oh...oh......whose pussy is the most comfortable to fuck among Twice..." Chaeyoung was fucked white by Jeonghoon. Her buttocks kept trembling and her body twisted to meet the powerful thrusts of the cock, moaning softly in pleasure.
"Hyung didn't say it... But if I said it... it should be..." Jeonghoon pretended not to, but got down and fucked her hard, trying to lead Chaeyoung to the bed.
"Ah... ah... um... um... um..." Chaeyoung couldn't hear the answer and twisted her white butt coquettishly, showing a very comfortable expression to seduce Jeonghoon.
"Hee... hee... Of course it's my noona... Otherwise, why would I come here to fuck my noona without sleeping..." Chaeyoung knew that what Jeonghoon said was not necessarily the truth, but she was still very happy. What Jeonghoon was thinking about was that he could never tzuyu was so fucked that when he thought of Tzuyu, he accelerated and increased the speed and force of his thrusts.
As soon as Chaeyoung was penetrated by Jeonghoon's cock, her whole body softened, and a lot of juice naturally flowed out from her pussy. Her legs softened, and Jeonghoon took her to the bed while holding on to the wall. Jeonghoon's hands were not idle, rubbing vigorously against the soft breasts from behind, and Chaeyoung kept letting out gasping moans on the way to the bed.
When Jeonghoon came to the bed, he turned Chaeyoung around and inserted his very hard cock into Chaeyoung's pussy. His extremely hard cock was thrust hard into Chaeyoung's pussy again and again. Every time, it penetrated deep into the vagina. Chaeyoung's whole body was numb from the fuck, and her pussy was dripping with juice. Chaeyoung was so happy that she pinched Jeonghoon's back with both hands, and hooked her legs tightly around Jeonghoon's ass so that Jeonghoon could penetrate deeper.
Just when both of them reached the edge of climax, there was another knock on the door. As the door was slowly opened, Chaeyoung thought that she had not locked the door just now and hurriedly pulled up the quilt to cover Jeonghoon who was lying on her body. Jeonghoon was also frightened. He didn't dare to move, and his cock quickly went limp and slid out of Chaeyoung's pussy when he was frightened.
"Chaeyoung... I have cooking downstairs... remember to eat later... don't lose weight and skip meals again..." Chaeyoung's mother poked her head in and said.
"Um...Mom...I know..." Chaeyoung replied in a panic.
"Then let's go back to the hometown..." Chaeyoung's mother took one look and left.
Chaeyoung hurriedly got out of bed and locked the door. When she turned around,she saw Jeonghoon sitting on the bed with a decadent look on his face, his hand still stroking his limp cock.
"Noona...what should I do...it seems like it can't get hard..." Jeonghoon looked at Chaeyoung anxiously.
"Don't worry...Noona will help you..." After Chaeyoung said that, she bent down to give Jeonghoon a blowjob.
Chaeyoung gently licked Jeonghoon's shrunken glans. Chaeyoung's flexible tongue kept licking the glans. Her left hand continued to stroke the base, and her right hand massaged Jeonghoon's testicles. Jeonghoon closed his eyes and enjoyed it, and Chaeyoung opened her mouth. She took the glans in her mouth, and instead of rushing up and down, she slowly rotated her tongue around the edge of the glans. From time to time, she also licked the groove under the glans. After a while, Jeonghoon began to feel it, and his cock gradually began to feel. harden.
Jeonghoon was so happy that he forgot who he was. He watched Chaeyoung move her head up and down, swallowing his cock, sucking the entire glans from time to time, and taking the entire cock into her mouth from time to time. The cock was covered with Chaeyoung's saliva. Chaeyoung would look up at Jeonghoon with seductive eyes from time to time, and the sound of wet water kept coming from Chaeyoung's mouth.
"Noona...so...so comfortable...I'm going to cum...cum..." Jeonghoon straightened his waist, holding Chaeyoung's hair tightly with both hands, his cock pulsing in Chaeyoung's mouth, and the white semen hit the inner wall of her mouth.
"Noona...I can do it...my cock can be hard again..." Jeonghoon said happily.
"Then what are you waiting for...I want...give it to me quickly..." Chaeyoung swallowed the semen in her mouth, lay on the bed and raised her plump buttocks, twisting her buttocks seductively.
Jeonghoon saw that his cock was getting hard again, and moans came from Chaeyoung's room again.
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pedge-page · 12 hours
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Imagine baby Sarah angry with Joel for not giving into her asks and wants like idk candy maybe and sides with reader going behind Joel’s back to ask the exact same thing and then in the middle of the day Joel questions how Sarah got a lollipop and reader says that Sarah told her that Joel said yes but to ask reader as well and they then connect the dots to discover that they’ve been played
Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Sarah's Bargain
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Notes: I’ve derailed from this prompt a little because Sarah’s gotta outsmart all of the adults in the room.
- - - -
Sarah and Joel are walking through the gas station mart when she spots the colorful rack of assorted candy. 
"Daddy, can I have one ring pop?"
"No," he responds plainly, counting the twinkies in his hand and figuring out how many he can get before you yell at him.
"Why not."
He grabs two bottles of Pepsi in one hand before heading over to the check out counter. “Because I said so."
She grumbles and follows close behind him. "If I clean my room--"
"You can't bargain with me. I'm not mom. My answer is no."
She thinks about it for a moment. Then smiles. "Ok Daddy, I understand."
Joel is surprised she acquiesced so quickly. She seems to have gotten over the tantrum phase. Maybe he's doing a pretty good job at this parenting thing after all. 
Later on, you take Sarah along with you to go grocery shopping. "Mom.”
"Yes bubba."
"Dad said if I cleaned my room, I could have a ring pop."
You pause, surveying the special deal for pepsi cans. Despite Joel telling you about the suspicious amount of pepsi that’s been disappearing from his stock, you hadn’t touched any. In fact, you had your own stock that you suspect he’s found out and been stealing from. 
“What?”
“A ring pop,” she repeats. “Dad said if if cleaned my room, I could have one.”
 Thats very uncharacteristic of him to bargain with Sarah.
"He did? So what are you coming to me for?"
"Well he said ONLY if you agreed. Said it was OK but to ask mom first to be sure."
Fuck, making me do the hard decision. Joels always the favorite, and if you say no now, then it’s going to make you the mean mom for no reason. You did see she cleaned her room without being told...
You grab the pepsi case, hoping Joel won't scold you for your own hoarders pile.  
You see the innocent batting of her eyes just as you look over to the candy aisle. “Well if Dad said yes..." 
-
Sarah and Joel are sitting at the table as he unwraps his secret stash of pepsi and Twinkie’s away from you. 
"I asked mom for a ring pop and she said yes,” she mentions while coloring her book.
Joel freezes with half the cream custard in his mouth. “I said—“ 
"Its ok! I told her since you had said no, that she didn't need to get me one. I just wanted to see if she would..."
"You trying to set me up against mom?"
"No..." she adds quickly. "I just... thought it would be an interesting experiment.” She smiles softly, before turning to a very mature, saddened tone. “But then I realized it was wrong and I should have listened to you in the first place. So I didn’t take it because I know you said no."
He thinks about it for a moment. Now you’re going to come to him lecturing about why Sarah doesn't get things when she CLEARLY has a good sense of responsibility, going as far to say no to something she clearly wants just to respect him. She's also smart to test both of you, and even when she could have had it, she still refused. 
“Alright. Just cuz I'm proud of ya.” He dusts the power from his fingers and fishes for his wallet. “You’re a smart kid. But I don't want you testing your mom n’ me for the same answer.  And I don't want to get in trouble with her. I'll get you one. Just this once ok?"
She nods solemnly and crosses her heart. “I won’t say anything.”
-
The next day, you hear Joel and Sarah coming in from the garage and you quickly stash your pepsi behind the potted plant. Your daughter gives you a fat kiss on the cheek before running to the living room and turning on the tv.
You and Joel sit at the table. “I saw the can by the way.” He remarks.
You grunt, pulling the aluminum from its hiding spot and proudly sipping it before crinkling it in your hand. “Well I haven’t been stealing from you. I …have my own stash.”
Joel gasps, offended and surprised by your double standards. “And you yell at me n’ my Twinkies!”
"There better not be any f-ing twinkies in this house Joel Miller," you point at him threateningly.
"Nope none Nada. Haven't seen any." he slowly tucks the new plastic back full of them under his legs.
"The two of you talk about Sarah having cleaned her room without being told. 
"Yeah, I ended up getting her the ring pop,” he tells you.
You furrow your brows.
“?… but, I got her the ring pop. She said you told her I would get if it I also approved? I didn’t want to be the mean mom!"
Fuck, Joel knows you get too worked up on trying to be too nice and cater to Sarah... "What? I told her no first. I never said it was up to you. Then she said she asked you and you said yes, but she refused yours, so I got her it instead for being responsible. I told you to stop worrying about being the nice mom!”
You also know Joel's a sucker for marveling Sarah's experimental mind and working on being responsible over getting what she wants. "She did NOT refuse my offer. what are you talking about?"
Tommy comes in moments later, and waves to the two of you through the open door. Sarah runs up to him near the doorway, and he greets her first suspiciously. They do a funky little hand shake, and you catch a glimpse of something silver going into his palm before she retreats to the living room 
"What are you doing here?" Joel asks.
Tommy shrugs. "Uh nothin’ just.."
"Did you just slip her a ring pop??" You ask incredulously. 
He huffs a guilty sigh. "Sarah asked for a ring pop because you guys told her no, so I went to pick one up at the store as long as she didn’t tell either you...."
Fuck. You and Jole BOTH know Tommy's complex about wanting to be Sarah's favorite uncle (despite the fact you keep reminding him he's her  ONLY uncle and he has no competition).
Above all else, Sarah knows these weakness about each of you. You all look over to her as she unwrap a third ring pop, putting all of them on her one hand and switching back and forth sucking on them. There's an open Pepsi can clutched in her other tiny palm that she sips from, with an exceedingly satisfied grin on her face.
- - - -
Taglist:
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andersonlore · 6 hours
Note
high sex with dina…. high sex with dina……
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kiss of heaven | dina
tags: eighteen+, sexual content, cannabis sex, oral (dina!r), face sitting, , dub-con (both reader and dina are high).
an. here's my first fic of dina! it's not perfect by any means by i kinda like it?? i hope you enjoy it as well.
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there’s something special about it. firsts always are. the adrenaline pumping through your veins, the serotonin getting sent through your head when someone new kisses you for the first time, the very beginnings of an orgasm never been given by them, the shivers traveling up your spine with a promise of something more. it’s all so inviting your doe-eyed heart welcomes it with open arms. 
but this isn’t the case. 
dina sitting on your lap the entire night, taking hit after hit, the both of you lost in the feeling of what could’ve been all night. now, the both of you are too far lost in the lust of weed, all you can think about is fucking her. she’s been grinding back into you all night, as if it’s not torturing you to no end. you’re sure you’ve soaked yourself through and it would be embarrassing. possibly. desperately, you crave her more than anyone, you just need to be satiated. or sedated if she turns you down. 
you’ve both been here before, years ago, but it feels just as it’s always been. somehow, you knew this would be your fate tonight. tongue tied with the woman you’ve never been able to get over. she comes into your life like nothing has changed. you let her, it makes you feel like a love struck idiot all over again. 
well, tonight. you’re more high strung than anything. the both of you are. 
the white of your eyes populated by red little lines, hooded as you have her pinned to the wooden door of a vacant room. all you have is a simple bra concealing your from her, delicate panties accentuating her divine hips. soft skin to the touch as you rub her hip bone with the pad of your thumb, drawing goosebumps in your wake. 
you can’t help but look at her perfectly sculpted breast, soft stomach, the collarbones you crave to sink your teeth into. it’s what you dreamed of. even if inebriation took over you both, if you got to have her? it didn’t really matter at all. not really. 
locking the door, you’re pulling her towards the bed as you take a seat in the middle as she stands there for you. “take them off.” you command, gesturing with a tilt of your head. she slips them off, not so gracefully, tripping as she does so. she warns you with her warm eyes to not utter a fucking word. 
but you can’t help the small giggle you try to stifle. it’s impossible to conceal. 
“you sure you want to test me?” she pushes, raising her bold eyebrows at you. intentionally, you snap your bra off before saying “no ma’am. wouldn’t dream of disappointing you.” instantly, the power becomes hers. as if it was ever anything different. a silent hope, wanting to have it for once, but with her? you crumble. 
her beautifully dark hair is a mess, from your endless pulling. “can you, um—” she raises her expressive brows indicating for you to give in and tell her. you try your best, but you’re so distracted by her beauty, the cannabis taking over as you’re impossibly wet, drooling over having your dream girl back. even if it’s for a short time, she’s here. 
“i want you to sit on my face, tonight. please?” she stalks you like her prey, climbing up your body before resting at your hips, before leaning down and whispering in your ear, “hm, finally seems like someone learned their manners.” the soft chuckle cured you of the last time before she wastes no more time. not a fucking  second. 
it’s all so quick. happening in a flash of your eyes, maybe it’s the weed and maybe it’s just her. the instant sigh released from her lips makes your thighs clench. you’re thankful she is facing you or else she’d make you split them apart. you know she would. 
it’s been too long since you’ve had her. your tongue licking a bold strip from her clit, sliding down her labia until lightly dipping into her hold before traveling back up her pearl of pleasure. you’re missing the way her head is being thrown back with your eyes shut as you suckle on your favorite meal. being deprived of the sweet taste of her cunt for so long, you eat it up as if you’ve been starved. 
“s’good baby, fuck. forgot how good your mo—” you spit dramatically on her cunt, smothering your spit on her pussy with your thumb, applying light pressure on her clit. “yeah , you should have never forgotten, baby. i always take care of you, don’t i?” slapping her supple ass with your free hand. 
dina sinks down the extra weight she’d been holding, suffocating you with her slick. you open your eyes for a moment to take her in, only to find she’s looking right back. “hi angel” she whispers, making you giggle softly. 
desperately, you’re trying to recall the last time she’s been this light hearted but you can’t. is it possible she’s changed? fuck, the possibility of new beginning is sent throughout your cunt. the idea only latches onto your brain for a moment before dina’s moaning again, rolling her hips deliciously, fucking your face and looking gorgeous doing it. 
“is this what you want, huh? fuck…need to cum so fucking badly.” she moves her hips quickly, lost in the way you’re fucking the shit of her. skilled tongue giving her your best, hoping she’ll paint yours in return. she knows she never would’ve succumbed so easily if it wasn’t for the cannabis. dina, always one to savor. not go through the motions so quickly, but now she doesn’t really give a shit. all she craves is the high she knows you can offer. 
fully focusing on her clit, you suck the pearl into your mouth, flicking your tongue over, over, and over. dina’s delicious thighs began to shake. irrevocably so. it’s her tell. right before she cums, each and every time, they shake. high pitched moans escape as she tries to regain composure but it’s useless. she’s far gone and you’re more than happy to send her tumbling over the edge. 
“jus’ let go baby, yeah? just me ‘nd you. cum for me mommy? please?” you pause before saying what you know will send her over the edge. “c’mon, making a fucking mess all over my face. i can’t take it, babygirl. promise.” 
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galedekarios · 21 hours
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Keeping this anon, but I hear you hate bloodweave. I was curious on your take to why.
You don't have to reply to this if it makes you uncomfortable thought!!
i'd like to preface this again by saying that this is my opinion. idc what you ship.
i've talked about this here, but i don't mind reiterating my points:
they have no chemistry, to the contrary, gale shuts him down right away during their first talk and ast*rion's manipulation attempts. i assume that gale sees right through him from the beginning. a lot of people love to hc gale as naive as or as completely taken with ast*rion, but it's the complete opposite. i imagine his many years in waterhavian society made him realise quite quickly what type of person he's dealing with. the relationship they have doesn't progress much from that. by act iii they - at best - begrudgingly tolerate each other.
they are diametrically opposed in the things they value as people as well as their morals. gale is kind-hearted, he approves of helping those in need, children, mothers, slaves, refugees, even the animals you meet in-game. he seeks to avoid bloodshed, approves of letting people who want to pay the party back for their help keep their money and belongings. he seeks knowledge and even power not for selfish reasons or a taste for the darker things, but because he seeks to better their odds of survival against a seemingly invincible foe. ast*rion meanwhile is selfish and cruel and vile. he delights in violence and bloodshed, he finds the struggle of people caught in the crosshairs amusing. he is greedy and short-sighted, seeking power for himself, no matter the cost to others.
they are completely incompatible in terms of what they look for in a relationship and a potential partner. gale wants and needs a deeper connection, a tangling of the souls, and he needs someone to be there for him unequivocally, to love him for who he is as he is. he is not taken in by someone's looks or image they present of themselves, nor does he do hate sex / endless bickering / enemies to fwb / etc.
the first things he cites for trusting the protag are their good actions (helping mirkon, helping arabella, seeking to ease the tension between zevlor and aradin), it's all those things that at first make him trust the protag and later - when they unselfishly offer him help, give him artefacts - makes him fall in love with them. sex and immediate gratification isn't important to him. sex is a component - one way in an array of ways to proclaim love.
for ast*rion, it's manipulation first and his entire romance hinges on that. his partner falling for his looks and his text book manipulation into sex. that's already where this breaks apart for me in terms of this ship because that doesn't work with gale.
add to that ast*rion's cruel remarks about gale's when he is need:
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[after gale's background story reveal] You'd have us debate? That Netherese jack-in-the-box should be a blip on the horizon by now!
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[after mystra's demands] I can't believe Mystra's demanding Gale sacrifice himself to destroy the Absolute. It's just a waste of a perfectly good cult that we could be controlling. And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.
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[at the stormshore tabernacle] Well? Go on, then - it's rude to keep a goddess waiting.
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[after orin potentially kidnaps gale] So, we kill Gortash or Gale dies? It's not an easy call. On the one hand, killing Gortash would be fun. On the other, Gale can be very annoying. We should probably save the wizard, though. He does have his moments.
i think it's very clear, given the fact that these reactions range from act i to act iii, that he doesn't give a singular fuck about gale. contrast this to karlach's reactions, or even shadowheart's:
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Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.
(particularly karlach has many reactions like this.)
...unless you play either of them as an origin char and make the most ooc choices, i do not see how this pairing is supposed to work.
additionally, as i've discussed more in my previous post, the parallels people draw between them are shallow at best or can be drawn virtually between any of the other origin companions, or are non-existent at worst. ast*rion having a reading animation that he shares with gale (as halsin and shadowheart do too), or having their tents next to each other (like wyll and gale do in act i) isn't really enough for me.
as i've said previously, i have tried to engage with the pairing because it's sadly inescapable since people often don't bother tagging, but there's nothing except shallow ooc stuff.
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izartn · 2 days
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Crystal was a complete mood all the series. I loved her, I loved her weird thing with Charles, her friendship with Niko, the back and forth she has with Edwin, her defiance at David and how she uses her powers. How she can be both sweet and fierce, and kind self-centered.
The way she totally clocks Edwin (and I'd argue Charles too) at the start but doesn't say much about it. She so knows there's something going on, she noticed right away the jealousy and even tells Charles to mind what he says for Edwin. She knows form the start, that anything between her and Charles won't last; she's not even really dating him. He's still the first to offer her to stay, a temporary home. She still has a lot of baggage and Charles is dead, forever 16. She still kisses him goodbye one last time when she goes.
How she's all ride or die for the boys and Niko, how she started the series bc she was friendly to a little ghost girl and she wanted to save another little girl, lost, across the Atlantic Ocean in another continent while she herself had no memories.
She has a demon buried on her soul bc she put him there until she could get ride of it, bc he doesn't define her and has no right to torment her. She tries to protect Niko at the finale, repeats what the boys said to her, that Niko is only human, and still they both go together to save the ghosts, and Niko dies taking a knife for her, and she wakes Lilith with her righteous rage and call for retribution for all girls dead too soon and makes Esther pay.
How she comes back to stay at the finale, because she has just recovered her memories and watched Niko die for her, and Edwin being tortured while Charles was chained, and has decided she wants this new life while she sorts out her past, fuck it she can have it all. Offering Jenny to come to London. Just. I want to hug her.
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pixiecactus · 3 days
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Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody.
so i've seen this quote used in a "see arya is not an outsider" kind of way, and here are my two cents that nobody asked for.
for me arya being an outsider is deeply connected to her self-esteem issues... so in this badly written essay i will (just kidding i couldn't write an essay even for the life of me):
imo this quote is a passive way to show sansa's classism, yeah arya is a friendly little girl, that's true, but i take more this quote as sansa meaning arya's comfortable in making friends with "the lowest of the low". there's a reason why jeyne poole and beth cassel were only sansa's friends and not arya and sansa's friends. growing up in winterfell, arya's mother, her assigned teacher and her older sister and her friends told and showed arya time and time again how she's not an adequate lady and how her behavior as a 9 year old child is completely unacceptable of a lady from a great house. (which is a little hypocrate coming from someone who once was 12 year old "mud pie maker" catelyn tully)
hello "arya's self-esteem issues that people love to ignore", there's a reason why when gendry tells arya she looked pretty and ladylike (i know the phrase used is "a nice oak tree" but guess what my book copy is in spanish and here gendry says "un roble bonito" and bonito is directly translated as "pretty") arya thinks gendry is mocking her, because she believes only her father and jon would say something like that of her while being truthful.
for fucks sake, it gets even worse. arya was anxiously worried about her mother and brother not wanting her back because she had to survive in middle of a war, she had to pass as a boy to avoid sexual violence, which women, girls and even femme presenting people are the primary victim of, she had to kill in situations where it was "kill or be killed", she had to work as a slave, she's dirty and could be simply defined as a mess, completely the contrary of the idea of someone "ladylike" that has been drilled into her head by many people.
arya is loved by her brothers, smallfolk and the people that worked for the starks, but was made an outsider in her own homeplace because she's not good at performing the gender roles expected of her. nobility treats her as an outsider, just because this little girl is gender non conforming. arya is still growing up with low self-esteem with the feeling that nobody would ever want her except for jon. a feeling that was born of failing her obligatory "lady duties" and being bullied and mocked by this fact, by the very own teacher employed by her family and some family members alike. we have arya's own mother constantly comparing the child who excels at her tasks with the child that fails these tasks in an attempt for the child that is failing to improve, which is horrible methoding and only ends up with arya feeling even more inadequate as someone who is a member of a noble house.
even the "arya was clearly ned's favourite" is laughable for me, because even in the part where ned gives back needle to arya, and decides to indulge her with water dancing lessons, he's only doing this with the hope that this is simply a child's interest that arya will grow out of it, and she will finally have the realization that her only place in life is being a "dutyful lady wife" whose sons will be able to be everything she ever wanted to be only because they will be born with a cock between their legs, that's what he tells her. so there we have ned stark passively enforcing gender roles on the child that asked for the possibility of breaking gender norms while she's in a possision of power.
and having both parents telling her in one way of another that her behavior is wrong and not what is expected of her, this only reinforces arya's idea of how inadequate she truly feels, how she will never fit in nobility and how she will have to let go big parts of who she is, to comply with westeros's patriarchal idea of what a noble woman needs to be.
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charliehoennam · 17 hours
Text
sweet stranger
A/N: request made here by @annekelovesreading
Summary: the war veteran Alfie seeks comfort in a stranger in hopes of returning to his old self
Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+, smut, reader is a sex worker.
SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG
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"Thanks for the ride, James. I'll see you tomorrow morning."
You climb out of the Bentley and adjust your coat, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress before strutting towards the hotel, your heels clacking against the pavement and then marble floors of the lobby.
You sense the judgemental eyes already on you, but you've learned how to ignore them. If their judgement paid your rent and bills, then you'd finally be able to retire. But until then, you did what needed to be done.
The service you provide is simple and clear. You meet the client, humor them a bit and fuck them before leaving at first light.
You are lucky enough to work for a powerful and strict madame that actually recognizes the importance of her employees' well-being and ran a high-end business.
Her rules were clear. No marking, no hitting and contraceptive must be used.
Just because her empire dominates the professional area of sexual pleasure does not mean she runs a funhouse. Many would mistake Madame's care for benevolence when it is really just a matter of logistics.
Black eyes don't allow her employees to escort her wealthy clients to prestigious social events. And the only reason her business dominates is because she assures clean employees to her clients. An employee with the clap gets the boot and replacing them is expensive.
After giving your name at the front desk, you take the keys you're headed with a smile and head to room 403.
The name is not unfamiliar. You've heard plenty of Alfie Solomons and part of you is afraid of what he'll be like, judging by what you've heard.
The ring of the lift snaps you our of your thoughts. You flash a smile at the liftman and thank him before stepping into the hallway.
Alfie Solomons is not your first client - nor will he be your last - but knowing he is the first gangster you're about to meet and sleep with has butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
You mentally repeat Madame's rules to yourself to try and ease your nerves. But then again, do rules hold any standing to criminals?
Taking a couple of deep breaths, you manage to relax as best as you possibly can in the situation and simply remind yourself that he is no different than any other client.
You lift your hand to knock on the door. There's movement behind it and the metal of the lock on the side rattles as it slides to open.
Your lips pull into a welcoming smile at the broad, tall man that opens the door. Taking in his features, you quickly notice his wet hair.
The smell of soap emanates from his large frame along with a faint scent of rum and an irresistible natural musk that almost lured you to touch him.
It's obvious that he took the time to wash himself and, to be honest, you're quite thankful for that.
"You must be Mr. Solomons."
"Punctual little thing, ain't you? Come on in, love. Don't mind me."
His tone is rather calm even with his heavy Cockney drawl. His fingers, however, seem to confess his nerves with the way they flick back and forth.
"Punctuality is a necessary characteristic in my line of work, Mr. Solomons."
"Right, right" he nods as you walk past him. He still can't seem to look you in the eye, but you've yet to discover why.
Most of the nervous clients that you've had were first-timers, young men eager to lose their virginity especially before being sent to war.
Alfie is very attractive and pleasing to the eye with his large strong build, but he is no young boy. You find it hard to believe that this would be his first time being as wealthy, cunning and wealthy as you heard he is.
"May I take your coat, love?"
"Yes, please."
You turn to back to him to allow his assistance, taking in the sight of the hotel room. You've been in this hotel before, but despite that, the lavious decoration of the suite never fails to impress.
Alfie can't help but feel intimidated by the simple scent of your perfume as he stands behind you, taking your coat to hang it for you. He doesn't want you to pick up on the fact that he feels so out of his element.
Before the war, Alfie had his fair share of women. He used to be so different. So young and naive and confident - which is the only characteristic he can successfully feign more than well in the wicked world he treads in.
But now, he's in foreign territory. So much has changed for him.
Getting his affairs back in strict order took so much work, sweat and blood from him that he hadn't prioritized his romantic desires.
If age hadn't been enough, the night tremors made it impossible to sleep beside anyone. Red blotches were beginning to spread throughout his body due to the psoriasis. His sciatica only worsened with age and the harsh conditioning the war had forced onto it. And now the fucking cancer, which only added to his list of secret insecurities.
The confident young man he used to be was gone. Alfie was still human, however. And like many other humans, he yearned for companionship. The problem is that a man like Alfie can't confide in just anyone. He can't expose it without the risk of his enemies seeing it as an opportunity to use it against him.
Good thing about Madame's business is that her turf is neutral and independent ground. For now, at least.
Alfie knows he has to overcome this hurdle if he plans to get married one day and start a family and he just thought this would be the best way.
He's got a beautiful woman in his hotel room; he knows what you came here to do. He's just not sure what to do at this point other than to confess it to you. He doesn't want to say it, but deep down inside, he feels a bit humilited.
It shows in the way he avoids your eyes, the way his head hangs low.
"There's no shame in that, Mr. Solomons. I'm happy to help however I can. We don't have to rush into anything just yet... Do you drink?"
"Not often. Clouds the mind."
"Precisely. What do you drink?" You smile warmly at him.
"Wine is my favorite."
"Let's get you a glass then, Mr. Solomons."
Just as you expect, the wine is successful in loosening him up a bit.
You're careful enough to avoid asking any questions that concerns his business, so you focus on asking him to share things he enjoys like music and books.
After a couple hours and a couple glasses, he's warming up to you as you listen attentively to his childhood stories. Despite the wine, he is cautious enough to leave out certain details that are too personal for you to know that could bring him or his family harm if they ended up in the wrong hands.
You can't take it personal, and can only imagine that trust does not come easy in his line of work which only confirms that pressing him on such information wouldn't be very smart.
No matter how easy the conversation is flowing or how comfortable he may seem to be, you can't forget who he is beyond these four walls.
As he finishes his glass of wine, he sets it down on the table in front of you while raising a hand to his shoulder to rub at the aching knot in his muscle.
"Would you like me to take care of that for you, Mr. Solomons?"
"With what, love? Oh, this?" He asks glancing at his shoulder. "Oh, no. You don't have to do that."
It almost like he's forgotten the reason you're both there.
"Really, I don't mind at all. It's the least I can do for you, sir."
With a sweet smile, you stand as you finish off your glass and set it beside his on the table before walking over to his chair to offer him your hand.
"I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to."
His blue eyes narrow their gaze at you for a moment as if he's trying to read you. You can see him physically tense before accepting your hand.
The talkative Alfie is suddenly replaced by a quiet and insecure version as he watches you, from where he's sat in the bed, take your heels off - your almost bare feet still covered in your black stockings - before climbing onto the bed.
You stand on your knees , which are spread to accommodate him between them, and sit back on your feet after taking the small bottle of rose scented intimate oil from your purse.
"It's like riding a bike. Your body knows that to do, but it needs time, patience and practice, so you have to go slow."
Your breathe on his neck has chills racing up his arms as you reach to his front to unbutton his vest and slide it off his wide shoulders. You do the same with his shirt, but pause before sliding it off as his hand instinctively hold your wrist.
"May I? I'd love to see you, but if you don't want to, I can just slide it down a bit."
He ponders for a moment but replies with a silent nod as he releases your wrist.
You slide it off and much to your impression, he seems even wider and stronger than you'd imagined.
A couple scars and red blotches already here and there on his skin, but they don't stop you from marveling at the rippling muscles.
"My goodness... Mr. Solomons, with all the utmost respect, but you are quite the work of art."
He can't help but smile at your compliment, although he thinks that you're just saying what you think he wants to hear, so it's hard for him to believe.
You let your palms gently wander over his large back and arms, with a gentle squeeze to his biceps.
"Carved from stone, are you?" You joke, bringing a chuckle out of him.
"No, love. Just flesh."
"Fortunately."
Using the pipette, you pinch a couple drops of the oil onto his shoulders before closing the vial to set it aside and letting your fingers get to work.
Alfie groans softly and his eyes instantly close as you start massaging to undo the knot that's been bothering him for weeks now.
"How is that, sir? More pressure?"
"No, love. That's just fine...just perfect," he sighs relieved. "Fucking 'ell, love. That feels fucking great. You've no idea how long that's been bothering me."
"I can imagine. You've got knots like this all round. It can't be easy to live with them.
Slowly but surely, Alfie starts to relax. It's impossible not to. It's been a while since he's been touched by anyone, much less massaged by them.
The tension is his body begins to ease as your fingers work away not only the knots caused by the stress of his days, but the anxiety of being intimate again. It doesn't seem so foreign suddenly.
Building up the courage to place a gentle kiss onto the back of his shoulder, you lower your head and press your lips to his skin.
"Is this alright?" You whisper.
"More than alright."
"I can go lower if you'd like me to."
He nods, so you glides your fingers down the middle of his back, pressing against ether side of his spine.
"Fuck, love... That is heavenly."
You smile at the praises and take it a sign to continue the gentle teasing, moving your kisses up to the crook of his neck.
You take your time to ease him into his arousal. The lower you go down his back, the more convinced he becomes.
"Would you like me to touch you?"
You ask nuzzling your nose against his ear and he nods.
You reach a hand to his front and rub your palm against his clothed crotch. Although you can't see his cock, you can tell the man's been blessed with girth as it twitches against your touch.
Alfie gives in to the instant pleasure and moans, letting all his worries melt away. He can't remember the last time he's been able to feel so at ease.
As you whisper encouraging praises into his ear from behind, Alfie allows you to unbutton his trousers and slither your hand under the fabric to stroke his cock with a firm grip.
The room seems to spin around him. His head feels heavy from the pleasure as it leans back against your shoulder.
"That's it, sir. Just let me take care of you" you smirk kissing a sensitive spot on his neck that he didn't even know could make him tremble.
He isn't sure how much longer he can last. It's been a while after all.
"L-love, you feel so good."
You chuckle, letting his thick cock spring free from its confines.
"You're fucking beautiful, sir."
"Oh, you think so, yeah?"
You nod as your hand strokes his dick, coating it with his own pre-cum and the essential oil you'd brought.
"Lemme get more comfortable, love. Wanna see more of ya," alfie says holding your wrist to stop your movement for a moment.
He stands to kick off his trousers, standing in all his naked glory before sitting further up the bed with his back against the upholstered headboard.
"C'mere, love. Lemme see you hm?"
His invitation is made with calloused hands guiding you to straddle his lap. You make quick work of unbuttoning the dress and sliding the straps off your shoulders to reveal your chest with a sultry smile.
"May I?"
You can't help but smile at how he's a gentleman in such a moment. Most clients wouldn't even bother to remember asking, but Alfie makes you forget that he is just another client.
His large hands reach to knead your breasts, giving them such attentive appreciation as he licks his pink lips, eager to get them on you.
"It's alright, love" you whisper, seeming to read his mind.
The way his beard scratches your sensitive skin has your back arching into his warmth. His gentle and considerate admiration lures you into a trance; into a heated dream where you are able to finally feel like a woman loved.
You welcome him with fingers lacing into his messy brown locks still damp from his bath earlier. Your hips move mindless as you grind your clothed sex against his exposed cock, reminding him how good he feels and how you want him to feel the same.
Shifting onto your knees between his legs on the bed, you pepper tender kisses down his chest and stomach as your breasts dangle down and rub against his cock.
The anticipation has Alfie balling his fists into the white sheets.
"You are the most beautiful woman in the world, love. Fucking 'ell," he mumbles as your hands run up and down his thigh, giving gentle squeezes to tease him on.
"It's gonna be a long night."
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Thoughts on The Ghoul
So I think all the characters in the Fallout show are spectacular, but I had some thoughts on The Ghoul/Cooper Howard in particular that I just wanted to put down. Owing to his 200+ years of history, he's a downright fascinating, dynamic character, and I can't wait to see what they do with him next.
Anyway, here's my thoughts/character analysis of The Ghoul:
One of the things I found most interesting on my second watch-through of the show was how everything The Ghoul does is motivated by ruthless pragmatism, not cruelty. It can appear like cruelty--sometimes it tips over into cruelty--but cruelty is not the point. The point is always survival. He must survive to find his family. That is his goal and his one guiding tenet. Nothing else matters, everything else is fluid. Whatever it takes to survive.
Getting rid of the three bounty hunters who dug him up? Survival. Two of those guys were already one twitch away from killing him on the spot for being a ghoul, and the other threatened to harm him if he didn't show enough gratitude. Coupled with some of the other things he was saying, it seemed possible he would double-cross or kill The Ghoul the moment it suited him. No doubt The Ghoul has worked with the type before, and knew trouble when he saw it.
In Filly, he only shot people who were shooting at him. Cooper loves dogs, but he stabbed CX-404 because she was actively trying to kill him. On the surface, he healed her for equally pragmatic reasons: she could lead him to Wilzig. But he also seemed to respect, too, that she clung to life despite her debilitating wound. She's not his dog Roosevelt, so he tries to maintain a cold detachment from her (at first), but he has a soft spot for dogs.
He was willing to shoot Lucy in Filly, but he hesitated--which is more than he did for any of the other people threatening his life. Possibly he wouldn't have killed her (she was armed with a non-lethal weapon) until Maximus showed up on the scene and changed the calculus (dispatch the girl and deal with the newer, bigger threat without having to worry about her finding a lethal weapon and killing him with it). He didn't kill Maximus when he had the chance, either. He didn't need to. Maximus had already shown himself to be incompetent with the power armor. It was simple enough to damage the power armor and watch him tuck tail and run.
When he meets Lucy again, he uses her with the same casual, indifferent efficiency as he would any other tool. The point of dunking her in the water was to lure the gulper. It had the unfortunate side effect of also being torturous for Lucy, but the cruelty wasn't the point. Getting the head back was. The head=caps, caps=meds, meds=survival, survival=eventually find family.
We don't know what The Ghoul would have done if they had retrieved the head from the gulper and his medicine hadn't been destroyed. Probably it would have depended on what Lucy did. If she seemed likely to come after him and the head, he probably would have killed her or incapacitated her and left her for dead. If she had explained she needed to trade it with Moldaver for her dad, Hank MacLean, hoooo boy, he would have beelined for Moldaver's with Lucy in tow. Whether Lucy came along as his partner or his captive/extra bargaining chip would also probably depend on Lucy's behavior.
But they lose the head and The Ghoul's medicine is destroyed. The math changes. He can come back for the head, but he needs meds now, which means he needs caps now, and the only thing of value he has on hand is this pampered girl from a fucking vault who seems patently unwilling to do the things that need to be done to survive in the Wasteland anyway, so if she's gonna die, he might as well profit from it. He needs meds to survive. He needs caps for meds. It's simple, brutal math.
While he's hauling her to the Super Duper Mart, though, he does several interesting things that are degrading for Lucy, yes, but are simultaneously teaching her how to survive the Wasteland, testing to see if she'll adapt. First, he mercy kills Roger and butchers him. It's important to note that The Ghoul didn't have to take a detour from his all-important mission to obtain medicine--he could hear it was Roger, he could tell Roger was going feral and didn't have any meds-- but he went anyway to help ease an old friend's passing. And he made sure Roger's last thoughts were pleasant, too.
Then, because this is the Wasteland and the one law is survival, he wastes no time switching gears. There's no waste in the Wasteland, and a fresh dead body presents an opportunity for those willing to seize it. The Ghoul, mind you, has had 200 years to learn that he can't be picky. Ghouls are unwelcome in most "civilized" parts of the Wasteland, barred from the simple comforts and safeties and securities that other people can enjoy if they reach those scattered, precious oases. The Ghoul has had to eat people. It sucks, but it's that or die.
But Lucy doesn't understand that. She arguably doesn't understand what a ghoul even is because nobody's taken the time to tell her. She doesn't know what the last 200 years have been like. She's appalled--and then she has the audacity to voice her disgust. The Ghoul hands her the knife to keep butchering Roger in part to humble her, to drag her down into the dirt with the rest of them, but he's also teaching her a stark reality of the Wasteland. It was a lesson and a skill that he had to learn the hard way. (Interestingly, while nearly everyone in the Wasteland is disgusted by cannibalism, it's also a known thing that happens all the time. The Ghoul and Lucy are in the interesting position of being some of the only people in the Wasteland who were raised in societies where cannibalism truly was unthinkable).
On the walk to the Super Duper Mart, he refuses to give her water. On a pragmatic level, there's no reason to waste water on the equivalent of a dead woman walking--he's leading her to get her organs harvested, after all. (He is pretty petty when he pours out the last drops instead of giving them to her, though). But also, whether he is actively intending to or not, he is teaching her to adapt to Wasteland conditions. The water in his canteen, in fact, was just as irradiated and gross as the standing water from which Lucy ultimately drinks; he refills his canteen from the same rusted-out vessel Lucy drinks from, and likely drew the previous canteen's worth of water from a similarly unpalatable source. This is water in the Wasteland. Drink it or die.
When she runs away shortly after, he lassos her (and, sidenote: can I just add how fucking cool it is that they actually carry through his lasso skills? Like, that is actually an extremely useful skill and the writers utilized it!), which leads to that pivotal scene where she bites his finger off and he takes hers.
This is interesting for multiple reasons. The Ghoul calls her a "little killer" and seems satisfied to see her finally fighting with the same savagery as a Wastelander. This could be either because a) he believes all people have a killer lurking beneath the facade of civility ("I'm you, sweetie. Just give it a little time...") and she's finally found that steely will to survive no matter what it takes, and/or b) he believes she's been faking her doe-eyed, good girl persona. He's the one who first finds Wilzig's body, after all. To him, it looks like Lucy lured the doctor off and ruthlessly chopped off his head before running off with it. Maybe she's just a really good actress, and in biting his finger off, she's let that mask slip.
Either way, he introduces her to another law of the Wasteland: don't dish it if you can't take it. She takes his finger, he takes hers. He doesn't kill her for it, in part because that would be disproportionate, in part because that would be a waste (he probably needs he alive to exchange her for caps). But also, from a practical standpoint, she just bit off his shooting finger. Unbeknownst to her, ghouls can reattach body parts, even ones that are not their own. He's harvesting his replacement from her. If he wanted to be cruel, he had ample opportunity to be cruel here. He could have taken more fingers. He could have hurt her in ways that wouldn't have affected her value to organ harvesters. He could have degraded her and called her all kinds of nasty names. But he doesn't. He's efficient. If anything, he seems almost proud of her for abandoning her hoity-toity principles and fighting back.
He still needs caps. He's feeling the effects of not having his medication. He's still committed to delivering her to the organ harvesters. In his mind, he has no choice. This is about survival. He has to survive to find his family. This is the option he has available to him. This is how he lives to see another day. He brings her to the Super Duper Mart and, drawing deep from that actor's well, he maintains the tough-guy routine long enough to intimidate her inside, then he succumbs.
He's still down when Lucy re-emerges, victorious, and he knows, he knows that he's dead. He tried to kill her, now she'll kill him. It's the smart thing to do, the practical thing to do. Another law of the Wasteland...
But she doesn't do it. She has all the power here, she knows he's a dangerous element, that she would probably be safer if she left him for dead or killed him herself. But she breaks all the rules. She gives him, freely, generously, with supreme dignity and a selfless kindness he had long forgot, an abundance of the thing he needs to survive, the thing he was willing to sell another human being for no questions asked. Just like that.
There's also something to be said here about how resource scarcity (and the removal of that scarcity) affects people. As soon as The Ghoul gains a cache of at least 2 months worth of medicine, it frees him from the basic math of mere survival. He has room to breathe and think long-term (at least by Wasteland standards). He can reflect on the momentous thing that just happened to him, too. As he watches himself on the TV in the Super Duper Mart, watches the man he once was unwillingly (and unwittingly) take the first step onto the path to what he has become, he remembers what it was like being Cooper Howard. Why he, Cooper Howard, hated the "feo, fuerte, y formal" scene so deeply.
Cooper Howard was a kind, moral, and dignified man who seldom said an unkind word. He was a loving husband who deeply respected his wife and absolutely adored his daughter. Though his naivety, privilege, and ignorance blinded him to the ugly realities of the pre-apocalypse world around him, he valued justice, freedom, and equality. He wanted the characters he played in the movies to reflect that belief in the power of the law and respect the innate humanity of all people, even the villains. And, when he began to see the cracks in the perfect picture of his charmed life, he is driven to know the truth behind the facade. His deep, defining belief in justice and truth would not let him leave it alone.
Cooper Howard learned the truth that Vault-Tec (and by extension, his wife) were willing to drive the world off a cliff, and it destroyed his marriage and deeply affected him. Even then, demoralized and hurt as he was, he found it in himself to be thoughtful and kind to his daughter and the people, both adults and children, at the birthday party he worked the day the bombs dropped. Fundamentally, he was still a kind, moral man. And that kind, moral man found himself in the middle of the most horrific nightmare anyone could ever imagine experiencing: the death of the planet under a rain of atomic bombs. Then he lived through it and had to contend with the harsh realities of surviving on the annihilated landscape left behind. Fortunately for him, he already had several handy skills to carry him through: having formerly been a real cowboy, he knew a thing or two about surviving in tough conditions; having formerly been a soldier, he knew what it took to kill a man and had the experience and fortitude to do it; and finally, having formerly been an actor, he had a built-in psychological coping mechanism to insulate him from the horrors of the things he needed to do to survive.
Cooper Howard used to put on and take off personas for a living. Sure, he played white hats, but he had an intuitive understanding of character and narrative tropes. He played opposite some of the best bad guys in 21st century Hollywood! It wouldn't be hard for him to pull the cloak of acting around himself to do what he initially needed to do to survive. But somewhere along the way, the tough, ruthless persona he adopted stopped being an act and he became his character. He embodied the answer to the question posed by The Man from Deadhorse: what happens when a good man is driven too far?
Cooper Howard adapted to survive. His actions reflect the realities of being a ghoul (again, a people generally reviled by everyone and cast out of safe havens because they are deemed threats). Pragmatic and efficient violence are necessities if a ghoul wants to live long, stay sane, and stay out from under the thumb of would-be enslavers. Still, beneath it all, Cooper Howard is still there, buried deep down beneath the character-persona of The Ghoul.
The Ghoul is drawn to Lucy (platonically, romantically, or some secret third thing), to her goodness and old-world manners just as much as he is disgusted/irritated by them. She's an echo of himself, of Cooper Howard, of who he used to be, and he knows EXACTLY where that gets a person. She's going to get herself killed if she doesn't wise up. With those high-and-mighty, anachronistic principles, that black-and-white worldview, her totally naive misunderstanding of the realities of the Wasteland, she won't last long. And initially he sees her as a pawn, like he was, only good for moving him one step closer to his goal. But then she shows him she can adapt and survive. Not only that, she can be true to her core principles in the process. She can conduct herself with dignity. Lucy reminds him what it was like being the white hat, and shows him that yes, even in this hellscape, there can be heroes. Over 200 yeas, his pragmatism and need to survive sanded away the nuance between Good and Bad. But Lucy makes him reconsider whether maybe there is right and wrong after all, and maybe it actually does matter.
Thus begins his transformation, but the change is not immediate, and this is still the Wasteland. He escapes from The Govermint and goes after Lucy. To do that, he needs to find Moldaver. He tracks down someone who might know where to find her, kills him and accidentally blows a hole through the letter with the key bit of information he needs to find Moldaver. So, he goes to that guy's family to find the man's younger brother, Tommy. When he gets the information he needs, he kills Tommy. He gives Tommy the opportunity to back down, but The Ghoul has a lot of experience and reads Tommy like a book. Tommy is not the kind of kid to let something like this go, and The Ghoul has clearly been burned by leaving vengeful people alive before. Tommy reaches for a gun to shoot The Ghoul, and The Ghoul doesn't hesitate. He blows a hole in the kid. It sucks, but again, this is a decision born from sheer practicality, not love of carnage.
Later, he comes across CX-404 trapped in a Nuka-Cola machine (left there by Thaddeus). The head is lost to both of them now; the dog cannot help The Ghoul with finding it. But he saves her anyway and dubs her Dogmeat. He lets sentimentality get to him for the first time in who knows how long and allows himself to bond with another living being. When he does reach The Observatory (where Moldaver, Lucy, and her dad are), he clearly stashes Dogmeat somewhere to keep her out of harm's way and goes in after Lucy.
After fighting his way through the Brotherhood of Steel, we come to that pivotal scene where Lucy finds out about her father's history. Cooper hangs back to observe and learns that his niggling, hare-brained hunch about Lucy and her last name was correct: she was the daughter of Henry MacLean, a man-out-of-time who presents the first real step in 200 years toward Cooper's ultimate goal: finding his family. (I think it's important to note, however, that he isn't 100% sure of her connection to Hank when follows her to Moldaver's--his reasons for going to the Observatory are either to get information from Moldaver or simply to back Lucy up, should she need help). He lets Hank get away so that he can follow him, and he's willing to follow him alone. But now there's Lucy, who is as wrapped up in this shit as Cooper is (even if she doesn't understand it yet), and he figures they both deserve answers. She's shown that she can adapt to survive, she just needs a teacher. In their first exchange since she left him at the Super Duper Mart, he treats her with new respect and offers her the opportunity to come with him, learn from him, and find out about who she really is and the legacy that has produced her. But perhaps he also knows deep down that he needs to learn from her too. He needs to remember what it was like to be good, to be human. He needs it so he can be it for his daughter when he finds her.
So, yeah, I don't know, it's just interesting how Cooper Howard became essentially lost in method acting a villain to survive the fucking awful conditions he found himself in, but even then he isn't cruel. Like, there are a lot worse things he could have done to Lucy. A LOT WORSE. As far as I can tell, he never looks at or touches her in a creepy, predatory way. Yeah, he drags her around on a leash and cuts her finger off when she bites his off, but that's pretty damn tame for the Wasteland. He secures her with rope, but otherwise is pretty hands off with her. If he objectifies her, it's in an extremely non-sexual way. More of a taking-the-cow-to-market kinda way. Which still sucks, but again, it's not needlessly cruel or wantonly violent, which is pretty impressive given general Wasteland behavior.
He's a damn interesting character, and I'm super stoked to see how he develops--and how he interacts with Lucy going forward.
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sessalover · 2 days
Note
I love imagining going to an award show with Dominic and both of you guys are up for awards (in my head I imagine being a filmmaker but feel free to change it) and both of you guys win and at the after party you guys are dubbed the new power couple in film.
need this to happen in my life actually,, anyway hope you enjoy🫡
power couple
pairing: dominic sessa x reader
genre: fluff
——————
“and the golden globe for best actor in a motion picture drama goes to,” bradley cooper paused as he presented the award, “dominic sessa, congratulations man.”
dominic’s eyes widened, the two of you jumping up from your seats as he embraced you. you placed a kiss on his lips, holding his hands and telling him how proud you were before shoving him in the direction of the stage.
“thank you so much,” dominic spoke into the mic, “oh my god it’s bradley cooper!”
you laughed, he may as well be more excited about meeting his idol than winning his first golden globe. he continued to reel off his thanks: the crew, the cast, his agent, his family.
“and finally. i want to thank my life and soul and heart and body and mind,” he reeled on, laughing and placing his hand on his heart, “y/n. you support me every day and i could never do this without you.”
you wiped a couple of tears from your eyes, the camera focusing in on you as dominic blew a kiss before exiting the stage.
the next award was for best screenplay: your category. the two of you always knew you’d be one after the other, which meant win or lose, you’d have to do it without dom by your side. though you remained happy in the knowledge that at least he’d been rewarded for his talents.
“and the award for best screenplay goes to… y/n y/l/n!”
“oh my god,” you gasped, standing up and embracing your team. although you’d done the writing by yourself, it was an industry that required so many people on a project that you could never take the credit by yourself. or maybe you could.
going onto the stage, you hugged and thanked the presenter as you accepted the award and placed it down on the little table next to you.
“y/n!” a call came, as dominic rushed back onto the stage.
“dom!” you laughed, embracing him as he cheered for you, before leaving as quick as he’d arrived.
you continued laughing, overwhelmed with emotion as you approached the microphone, “sorry, he’s just a really big fan.”
with laughs from the mega-famous members of the audience, you continued your speech with a shaky breath.
“i want to thank the whole team, the creators of this film for trusting me with the script, the actors for bringing it to life, the producers for their money,” you laughed, “um, my family. my friends. everybody back home who consistently believed in me, and of course, as said already, so eloquently tonight; i want to thank the love of my life, dominic, for remaining by my side with steady support for everything i do. i love you more than life itself and i couldn’t do this without you, thank you.”
“you ready for the after party?” dominic whooped, flailing around your intertwined hands in a sort of dance from the back seat of your cab.
you laughed, “let go!”
dominic laughed, letting go of your hand but leaning over to look at your phone with you. he may not have his own social media, but he sure does love to look at yours.
“what they saying?” he hummed, stroking your arm gently.
dominic and y/n are so cute😭😭😭😭 crying i need him
idk if im more jealous of him or her she looks fucking amazing in that dress
dominic and y/n power couple🫡
golden globes are shaking at their power
“i think they’re pretty happy,” you laughed, showing him a couple of your favourites tweets.
the cab pulled up outside the after party venue, dom smiling at you before helping you out the car and into the building.
“dom!” michelle pfeiffer called the two of you over to her circle of uber-famous friends, making you flush. not dom though, to him they were just co-workers, taking this all in his stride.
“michelle,” he smiled, walking over, his hand staying intertwined with yours, “this is my girlfriend, y/n.”
“y/n, hi!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a polite cheek-kiss greeting as she introduced you to the rest of the circle, “so what do you do?”
you chuckled, “i’m a writer, actually!”
“she just won,” dom smiled proudly, nudging you.
“oh my god, what?! and so did you dom! wow,” michelle hummed, “a real power couple here, huh?”
dominic laughed, as you hid your face in his shoulder.
“we’re gonna go say hi to a few other people, it was lovely seeing you, michelle,” dom smiled, wishing everyone a goodbye as the two of you made your way over to the bar. dom ordered effortlessly, pressing a kiss to your head, “power couple, huh?”
you laughed, cheering your drinks together, “that’s what everyone’s saying!”
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sixeyescurseuser · 15 hours
Text
part 2
“Satoru? What color are your eyes?” Geto asks one day, when they’re sprawled on the couch together. Gojo’s head is pillowed on Geto’s chest, where the snakes happily nestle in Gojo’s fluffy hair. 
“Hm, blue.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Geto is silent for a long moment. 
“I bet they’re magnificent,” Geto says, then startles when Gojo lifts up slightly, one hand tugging underneath the blindfold. “Satoru, whatever you’re planning to do, stop it.”
“Darling, I’ll keep my eyes closed, I promise,” Gojo solemnly swears. He waits until Geto gives his consent before lifting the blindfold off, diligently keeping his eyes glued shut.
Geto observes the shape of his lover’s closed lids, how his eyes contribute to his facial structure, and the white color of his lashes. 
“Pretty, right?”
Geto nods. “Hn.”
Geto still doesn’t trust himself without the trusty barrier of the blindfold.
Thus, he brings a hand up to cover Gojo’s closed eyes, and leans in for a kiss.
***
Gojo buys Geto a pair of his own special-grade glasses that block Geto’s entire field of vision, ensuring he can see perfectly fine while others will never make direct eye contact with him. 
It’s certainly an adjustment for Geto because the glasses, shaped like visors, feel very restricting. His snakes hiss at the glasses because they don’t don’t like not being able to see Geto’s eyes. 
But the glasses do give Geto more confidence in leaving the cottage to prevent him from freezing any innocent bypassers. 
***
Once, when Geto is out on his own, he spots a couple kids wearing the same style uniform as Gojo often does. Jujutsu Tech!
Geto decides to watch over them. 
Thank fucking god he did, because there’s no way in hell whoever the fuck is in charge just let these kids walk straight into a curse’s domain. 
Before Yuji switches with Sukuna, Geto intercepts and annihilates the other special grade, even without the powers of his eyes. Once the job is done, Yuji jogs up to his side.
Yuji: “Hey, thank you so much-GAH?“
At the speed of light, Geto pulls Yuji out of the crumbling domain and disappears.
The first years are completely bamboozled by what happened!
(Yuji: “Gojo-sensei, that special curse showed up again today! Well it didn’t need to help because Kugisaki and Fushiguro and I had everything handled, but I could feel it watching. Isn’t that weird?”
Gojo: “Huh, that is strange indeed.”)
Afterward, Geto presents Sukuna’s finger to Gojo. Gojo realizes Geto was looking after his students, and falls even deeper in love with him. 
***
Yuuta learned early on who Geto was because once Geto was watching over him but Rika was not having it! 😭
She was like “Who is this beetch?” and tries to off Geto, who flees and never looks back. 
The snakes want to pick a fight with Rika so badly, but Geto has to shush them because he’s not sure even HE could take on this kid’s curse. 
Also, Geto is technically supposed to be exorcized. That’s what Gojo told the higher-ups, that he had successfully defeated the infamous curse Geto Suguru. 
Gojo has to do damage control, of course. 
“You have Rika, and I have Suguru,” Gojo says with a shrug. “Simple as that.”
Beside him, Geto’s jaw drops open from the total lack of explanation by the fool that owns his heart. From behind his glasses, Geto pities the way the wheels furiously turn in Yuuta’s mind. 
Rika pops out jus to growl at Geto. 
Great. Good talk everyone. 
Yuuta: “You’re telling me you’re in love with THE special grade, Geto Suguru, who’s been alive for centuries and has been constantly compared to the king of curses, SUKUNA??”
Gojo gives him a thumbs up while Geto smiles with sharp teeth. 
***
Gojo Satoru is known as the strongest sorcerer alive, but that doesn’t stop Geto from being incredibly protective of him. While out on a date, Geto brings up the higher ups that clearly do not give a shit about overworking his beloved.
“Say the word and I’ll kill them.”
“I thought you didn't like killing?” Gojo asks with a cheeky smile. He takes a sip of his milkshake, then bumps his foot against Geto’s under the table. 
“Satoru, I’m a curse and they are assholes. It’s the natural order of things,” Geto sniffs. His snakes hiss in agreement, very excited at the prospect of killing for Gojo. 
Gojo extends his hand out, palm facing up. Geto slides his hand on top. Interlocking their fingers, Gojo conveys all the adoration he can through his uncovered eyes, hoping it penetrates through the special-grade glasses Geto wears.
“I love you too. My one and only.”
***
w/ @no-one-says-hi
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