Tumgik
#for me to do whatever the fuck i want with
screampied · 2 days
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hey i LOVE your work and ykk ou ur toji is just like… UGHHHH
could you do a mean toji who just mocks the reader and makes fun of her while she gets off on him (like idk his thighs or whatever) or when he fucks her? i feel like you would write this very well;)
❤︎ ໋𓈒 toji mocking your moans while you ride him
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warnings. fem! reader, thigh riding & cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, ōrgasm denial, breath play, spanking. + thank you sm !! mdni
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“we’re quite handsy today, huh,” he’d mumble once his eyes flicker down towards your nude body—you suck in a single breath as he’s got you just barely straddling his lap. with an unsatisfied pout, you’re just here moving up and down against his beefy thigh—oh so desperately wishing that you were riding him instead of his stupid, stupid leg. toji’s amusement only fuels the more you frown and scowl, pawing your hands up his perfectly chiseled thighs before he snickers. “what’s the issue? my thigh not enough to satisfy the pretty girl?”
“no..” you immediately say, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. he could hear the irritation linger on your tone before you bury your face into his neck . . a good waft of his loud cologne scent infiltrating inside your nostrils.
two rugged hands drag down your back, sending you multiple shivers from his touch before he replies in a hoarse tone. “well, that’s too damn bad,” and his chortling laugh only makes you throb from how close it’s against your ear—fuck. “actually, y’know what. i feel like bein’ nice today, baby. you want more than my thigh? how ‘bout ya jus’ ask me nicely.”
“but—”
“but—nothin’ girl, now speak,” toji utters, feeling your grinding against his thigh—grabbing your chin softly before making you stare him right in the eyes. he slyly grins, a thumb tracing down your dampened lip. “i’ll wait.. talk to me nice, girl.”
your eyes avert towards his dick, just laying there on his stomach—so ridiculously lengthy, a mere tannish color coats it - including his leaky tip that stares right back at you.
it looks so good, you wanted him inside so bad that it hurts—he could tell too, you found it hard to stay still as you made a cute attempt at rutting against him once more.
“i— i want you, ‘toji,” you claw at his body with doe lit eyes, his swollen base—so full of unused seed that you desperately yearned for it to be inside of you, filling up your pretty little womb. “want you s'bad.”
“oh i know you do, babygirl,” he rasps, he can’t help but notice the sudden boner that makes his jaw tighten. coarse big hands grip both of your hips before he gawks at you with that same tantalizingly smug grin. “can’t just spoil ya all the time though, talk more for me. i like listenin’ to that needy voice.”
ugh, you start to grow impatient and he only laughs at your sheer annoyed expense.
“please,” you murmur out in a whiney tone, slowly wrapping your clammy fingers around his length. he doesn’t stop you, he lets you touch all over him, aligning yourself with the fat weight of his cock that was just aching to be buried within you. “i wanna ride you so bad, ‘toj. need it, need your cum.”
“girl you don’t need . . . shit,” he swallows, a cold sweat breaking onto him.
you’re fucking hot—especially whenever you just take what you want, toji could have creamed his pants at just your voice and your voice alone.
you had him so hard, he sucks his teeth in total exasperation before he feels you slowly start to sink him down. “fuck, y’er such a little brat,” he mutters, feeling the warmth of your walls swallow him whole. it was a moist feeling, you were already a bit soaked—purely from riding his thigh for how many minutes, you weren’t even sure anymore, nor did you even relatively care. “ride me then, do y’er fuckin’ worst then.”
“shut up and i will.” you snap back.
he rolls his eyes, feeling your ass thrash against his lap and it makes him squeeze the plush mounds of your rear.
“eh, i really don’t like that mouth,” and he spanks you harder, this time it stings and you moan—he’s so thick that your stomach starts to seize once you feel him gradually reach into the depths of your pussy. “when you ride me, there shouldn’t be any back talk, girl,” and he grabs your chin for the nth time, pressing a sweltering wet kiss right onto your glossed lips. “. . . are we clear or do i gotta let this pussy know what goes ‘round here.”
…so cocky,
you gnaw at your lip—fighting back the urge to roll your own eyes backwards before you thrust against him harder.
it’s relentless, the brutal skin-to-skin contact makes a raw moan harshly yank from the back of your throat as your hands continue to claw on his chest.
his bare chest that was already glistening with droplets of sweat. he was so toned, his pecs—his nipples that were swollen and a sheeny pink color, you even attempt to lean in to lap your tongue against his nipple but he lightly shoves you back.
“leave those alone, slut,” and you conceal back a laugh—by 'those', he was most likely referring to his tits broad pecs. “ride me, ‘n hurry up. ‘m gonna fall asleep at this rate.”
toji never knew how to simply shut the fuck up, such a talkative man—whispering filthy sweet nothings into your ear as you’re taking every thick inch of his cock. he stretches you out so good that you’re already whimpering, eyes goggling profusely at the way his angry tip just thwacks and thwacks against your g-spot. “s-shiiit, toji,” you’d curse out in a sharp breath, continuing to drag your hips further against him at such a pace.
in and out, in and out, you’re rotating your waist a bit before he grunts lowly, head throwing back and he smacks your ass yet again, and again, and again. “fuck yeah, ride me jus’ like that. such a good girl, takin’ this dick like the good girl you are, mhm.”
“t—tojiiiii,” you’d mewl out right against the flapping shell of his ear. your cunt felt so stuffed, a straining exhale snatches from your lungs before you whimper once his base kisses against your ass. his base was so full, you only imagined how much build up cum was stored in there just for you.
“t—tojiiiiiii,” he mimics your tone as you mash against him, the sofa he sits on sinking down a bit from both weights combined. you pout once he starts mocking you, a gruff laugh dies from his throat before he squeezes your right ass cheek. “feels good, yeah? keep moanin’ for me like that.”
“shut up, s-shut uppp,” you moan, burying your face into his neck. doing so, you get a concise whiff of his cheap cologne and it smells so good. you’re a mess, spasming as your stomach continues to seize before he grabs both of your hips so that you could slam down onto him even harder. “close, toji. ‘m really close, fuck.”
he groans, feeling the hefty weight of his balls smack against your skin each time you move up, then down, then up . . . all over again. toji’s a big guy, it was no secret. the way your pussy constricts around his length, paving way for more movement . . . simply hypnotizing.
“yeahhh,” he snarls, strong hands still attached to your ass. green irises of his dilate, his eyes turn hooded for a second as he glances back at you. an entire mess, tongue all lolled out and you’re feeling it steadily about to approach. “look so fuckin’ dumb,” he points out with a subtle head shake, grabbing your chin again. “my dumb baby,” he corrects himself and your pout softens.
he’s so fucking big— you’ll point this out a million times if you have to, the stretch was so immaculate.
toji groans, pressing another saturated kiss onto your lips and you taste a brief mixture of his saliva and alcohol—presumably rum, you lean into his touch before feeling his big hands snake near your neglected tits. his growing stubble tickles against your face as you quicken your pace. so good, so fucking good.
all you can think about is that you’re getting off, you’re about to finish— gush out so much, you feel a familiar pit in your stomach arise. he feels you starting to shake and twitch, it’s cute.
“. . easy, now,” he teases, finding it adorable how whenever your orgasm approaches—you’d be an entire mess, pussy convulsing all on his cock as if it was the first time you ever took him. “oh my just look at that pout,” he points out, reaching towards your chin before bringing you all up close towards his face. not to mention, toji’s so pretty up close—ten times more intimidating with his low hazy eyes and wide sleazy smile. “such a baby. want me to talk ya through it?”
“p—please,” you whine, barely even giving him a chance to finish his seductive sentence.
with a playful eyebrow furrow, he makes you grind against him even harder. the sofa creaks and you squeak out a whimper, feeling yourself about to make such a mess. “please, please,” he copies your tone again, and it’s so embarrassing. toji purposely pitches his tone to sound like you and he snickers at the growing glare on your face. “please what, babygirl?”
with an irritated grumble, your flimsy arms still thrown over him, you moan out a desperate, “please let me c-cum. toji, i want it s’bad, pleaseplease let me be a messy girl.”
“. . . ahhhh,” he parts his lips, and he’s oh so dramatic, flickering his eyes towards the ceiling as if he’s deep in thought. “let me think about it.”
you didn’t know how much you could take, you’re sopping wet and his raspy deep voice that was right up against your earlobe doesn’t make things any better.
jagged breaths rip out from your esophagus as your shaky limbs could barely keep themselves up. he cackles, feeling your soft quavering lips kiss near his face, brushing against the scar that runs near the right lower part of his lip. it twitches as a response from your touch, how cute..
“hurry the fuck up then, lay it all on me,” he finally grunts, witnessing the way your dilated irises light up at his sudden permission— you whimper out, finally coming undone and it’s like a rough wave that crashes over you. the calm before the storm, once it comes, you’re left pulsating with his thick dick still buried inside of your cunt. you hug him tight with your walls like a vice, never wanting to let go. “you make such the silliest noises, girl.”
“s— shut up,” you moan, the under parts of your thighs aching heavily as you’re still in the midst of your teeth-shattering release. it feels so good, your maw drops and the contracts inside of your pussy only duplicates. it’s mouth watering, you grind against him just slightly and he spanks your ass, head going back. “i- i love you, toji.”
“i love me too,” he jibes with a cocky grin, sweat beads racing down the sides of his brow. you shoot him a glare and he rolls his eyes for the nth time. “. . kidding,” and he plants a kiss near your forehead, rough hand still attached to your right ass cheek like velcro. “i love you too, sweetheart.”
you’re still panting, but he’s clearly not done talking— it’s toji, figures.
“now bend the fuck over,” he grouses, eyes gazing towards your ass— a tongue goes against his lips like he was preparing for an appetizing meal. “i’m not finished. we gotta work on that lazy arch of yours, girl.”
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prettyfastcars · 2 days
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the way you bend, the way you break - part 2 | Mob!Lando
Read part 1 here 
Summary: Lando finally has all that he wanted, all that belonged to him in the first place. But there’s always room for trouble, even in paradise. And it’s up to him to fix it all and do whatever it takes to make sure that if he can’t have you then… no one can. 
Themes: pregnant!reader, mob!lando, fluff, slight angst, smut, very mild gun kink, gaslighting, dark!lando, possessive!lando
a/n: come get y’all juice [throws this fic at you and runs away]
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He woke up to something warm pressing into the side of his body. 
Snuggled up to him, so close like you were trying to find a way to hide under his skin. He smiled when he looked down and found you asleep, wrapped in your blanket and still seeking his warmth. 
He instinctively wrapped his arms around you, leaning into you as much as he could. He couldn’t exactly press his body completely against yours anymore because the bump got in the way. 
It had been two months since you two had left that mansion and that little town. And your bump was properly visible now. 
Speaking of the bump… He couldn’t resist shifting down to kiss it. “Morning, little one.” He whispered against it. The warmth of your skin was comforting so he nuzzled it and sighed. “Daddy can’t wait to meet you.” 
Then he felt gentle fingers running through his hair. He gave your bump one last kiss before he looked up and found you smiling down at him. 
“Hi,” You whispered, playing with his ridiculously soft, curly hair. 
“Morning, mama.” He reached up and kissed your face until you giggled and told him to back off because his stubble hurt. “Oh it hurts?” He kissed his way down your neck, his hands roaming all over your body, caressing you through the satin PJ set you wore before he began unbuttoning the shirt and lowering the shorts. 
He kissed his way down until he settled in between your legs, your body was still warm – hot rather – from being under the blanket and he couldn’t get enough. His fingers dug into the softness of your thighs as he parted them, bringing his mouth closer to where he desperately wanted to be. 
Kissing you through the thin excuse of an underwear you had on, he asked, “Is it still hurting?” He purposely let his stubble rub against your inner thighs, making you whine and moan as you squirmed under him. “Doesn’t look like it’s hurting.” He teased. 
Your fingers found their way into his hair and you tugged on it to shut him up. He smirked as he went along, letting you guide his mouth to where you wanted him. He licked, and sucked and teased until you were a whimpering mess beneath him. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you wide open for his mouth and preventing you from moving as he pinned your hips and legs down on the bed as he ate you out. 
This. This right here was his dream. Waking up next to his woman and then rolling over to taste her like she was there only for him to taste. Lando only smiled against your wet folds the louder your moans got. These peaceful mornings were what he lived for. 
But not everyday these past few months have been this peaceful. He still remembered the couple of days following the plane ride here… 
When you woke up on the plane, you immediately started panicking. 
“Baby, it’s okay. We’re just–,” 
“You had no right.” Were the first words you said to him. 
And it pissed him off. “Oh I didn’t? You’re mine, I have every right to do what I think is good for you. And our baby.” 
And then you argued. Big time. You said just the right things to make him mad and he acted like the overbearing, possessive man he was. The only way to get you to listen to him was to bend you over the nearest surface, in this case the bathroom sink, and fuck some sense into you. 
“You belong to me.” He murmured, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. Your mind was a foggy mess as he started rocking into you, making your front bump against the counter each time he fucked into you. “Say it.” He demanded. “Tell me you belong to me.” 
“I hate you so much right now…” you whispered, even as your walls clenched around him, unable to hide just how much you wanted him. 
His thrusts were animalistic, and rough. “I didn’t hear you.” He taunted, pulling his face away. His hand flew to your hair and he grabbed a fistful of it, and tugged on it, tipping your head back so you could see your reflections in the mirror. “I said tell me you’re mine.” His voice sounded menacing as he stared deep into your eyes through the mirror. 
You hated him. You hated how good he looked with that look on his face. His lips parted as his hips moved, burying his cock into you each time. You hated how good it felt to be bent over in front of him, all for him to use. 
You whimpered as he pounded into your core. His pelvic bone smacking against your ass each time he thrust into you. “I… I’m yours,” You whispered, gritting your teeth, losing this round. But vowing to not forgive him easily. 
You continued watching him through the mirror. He looked absolutely, devilishly handsome with his head thrown back, veins on his muscular neck prominent, eyes closed, his lips parted as groans escaped his lips. With that frown of pleasure he always had whenever he fucked you. 
“You better remember that, baby.” He growled. “You are mine. I love you, and I know how to care for you. So don’t fucking tell me what to do when it comes to you and our kid. You hear me?” 
You nodded despite the death stare you sent his way, moaning as he reached every single sensitive spot inside you. You felt a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in your lower region. You knew you couldn’t hold it any longer. 
And when your walls clenched violently around him. 
“You’re gonna cum for me, mama? Hmm?” He cooed, his voice laced with lust and desire. 
Seeing you didn’t reply, he tilted your head to the side a little. You couldn’t see his reflection anymore, not as he leaned in to kiss your parted lips before pulling away a few inches to spit into your mouth, then leaned in to kiss your swollen lips again. You moaned wantonly as he did, for a moment you forgot all about your anger. 
“Come for me.” He slammed his cock harder into you, and your eyes watered. He felt agonisingly good. It didn’t take much for you to come undone after that. Gushing out around his cock, walls pulsating around him as you came, hard.
He did too, right after you. “All fucking mine.” His warm load shooting inside you, as your body shook against the counter. He gathered you up in his arms again, kissing you as your body shivered and trembled. “I love you. I’m doing this for us, baby.” 
After you landed, he drove you to another one of his houses – though he called this one his main house – which was equally as grand as the one you used to work in. Once he showed you to your shared bedroom, you went straight for a nice, warm, long shower. 
And after that, you didn’t speak to Lando for two whole weeks. 
He tried everything. Sulked, apologised, begged, tried to buy you ridiculous things, begged some more. And it took two weeks of severe grovelling for you to finally accept his apology. 
He was glad you didn’t stay mad for too long. Although those two weeks of silent treatment from you hurt even more than the time he’d been shot twice during a crossfire. 
But he had you now, under him and squirming, moaning in pleasure just how he liked it. And this was perfect. His tongue didn’t stop teasing you until you were properly spent, grinding your hips against his mouth as you calmed down after a gentle, but intense orgasm. 
He kissed along your inner thighs, which were still trembling. But then he groaned in annoyance when he looked up and couldn’t see you because of the bump. “Kid’s getting in the way already,” He murmured, kissing his way back up. “I can’t even see your face when I’m down there now.” 
You giggled at the tone he used. “And whose fault is that?” 
He nuzzled your neck again, kissing it as he held you against him. “I love you.” He whispered into your ear. “It’s time to get some breakfast in you, mama. Let’s go.” 
You sighed in bliss, savouring one last moment in bed with him before you got out of bed and went through your morning routine while he made his way downstairs. This had become a new part of your routine now – him making breakfast each morning. 
You shook your head as you showered. You couldn’t believe this was your life now. New home, new place, new doctors, new staff members who waited on you at all times during the day. You had everything one could want. People all around the house who were ready to bring you whatever you wanted. Multiple cars with chauffeurs ready to take you wherever you wanted. 
Anywhere you wanted, you thought, but not to your hometown. 
Lando didn’t like it when you even mentioned the little town you’d just left. It didn’t have much to offer, but it was still where you were born and raised. You didn’t miss it enough to want to go back and live there. No. But you did miss it enough to want to know how everyone was doing back home. 
Your friends and family. 
You’d tried bringing it up just a few weeks ago… 
“Maybe I should go back once.” 
“What for?” He pulled you against him, arms wrapping around you, kissing your forehead as you both stood on the balcony just outside your bedroom, watching the sun rise. 
“Just to say goodbye properly. I… maybe they’d understand why–,” 
His arms tightened around you before he reached up to cup your face in his large, warm hands. “They won’t.” The finality in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. “If they wanted to talk to you they would’ve reached out by now, don’t you think?” 
Lando knew full well that he was leaving out the part where he threatened your friends and family to never reach out to you if they wanted to keep their heads on their shoulders. He had people watching them at all times. He wasn’t taking any risks. You were his now, and no one was gonna take you away from him. 
That ended that conversation. And you never brought it up again. 
You did think about it even now as you got ready for the day before making your way downstairs. Maybe, you thought, you could check up on them without physically going there. 
– 
A couple of days later, Lando came home after a particularly annoying day and all he wanted was a soothing hug from you, a couple of kisses, and maybe you’d let him bury his face between your thighs again. 
But he walked into the house and immediately, he could tell something was wrong. The guards were all in their places, armed as usual. So that calmed him down a little. Yet, a gut feeling told him something wasn’t right. 
As he made his way up the stairs, he took his phone out and checked the security cameras. Everything was fine outside, the guards walked around on alert as per usual. Then he checked the cams inside his home, trying to find you. And he frowned as he saw you in the corner of his library, typing furiously on the keyboard as your eyes remained glued to the screen of his computer. 
Weird. It was rather late, you should’ve been in bed. He tried zooming in to see what was displayed on the screen but he couldn’t see it. Damn. He should get new, better cameras. 
But without wasting any more time, and seeking to soothe that feeling in his gut, he rushed towards the library. And his heart sank as he kept an eye on the security cam footage while he approached the library. 
He watched how you visibly tensed up the moment he was sure you could hear his footsteps approaching. He watched how you clicked around in panic, typing even faster the closer he got to the library doors. 
He put his phone back in his pocket the moment he pushed the doors open and stepped into the room, finding you at his desk. The screen illuminated only your face while the rest of the room remained fairly dark. 
“Hi!” You said, sounding a little too cheerful. Sounding fake. Fake smile, fake happiness upon seeing him when he knew damn well you were just frowning right before he walked into the room. 
He hated it. The mask you put on just to make everything seem normal. He clenched his jaw before he asked, as calmly as he could, “What are you doing? It’s late, baby. Let’s go to bed.” 
“Yeah,” You gathered the blanket you had wrapped around you. “I was just looking into colour palettes. For the nursery, remember?” 
He nodded slowly, watching how you didn’t move from the desk. “Right now, though? It’s the middle of the night. And why were you in the dark?” Like you were doing something you shouldn’t. 
He noticed how you tensed up the moment he began walking towards you. He watched how you tried to discreetly move your hands towards the touchpad again. But he was quicker. 
And it only took him a moment to lean down so he could see properly, understand, and process what you’d been doing, or what you were about to do. He looked away from the screen and looked down at you. You avoided his eyes and that only pissed him off even more. 
“Care to explain this, mama?” 
Something shifted then. His tone, his demeanour, his presence – all of it getting darker. 
You looked away, sighing in defeat. “I just wanted to know.” There was no point in trying to hide that you’d been secretly emailing a friend of yours from back home. There weren’t too many emails exchanged, only a couple going back to a few days prior where you asked about the wellbeing of your parents and other friends. 
You didn’t risk texting because… that would be too easy for him to find. You couldn’t call either, he would know because his loyal guards watched each move of yours. So emails it was. You’d delete them each time. But this time it seemed you’d been caught before you could. 
“You couldn’t trust me?” He asked. Part of him was relieved that your friend had told you that all was well back there. This meant that your family was behaving like he wanted. 
“It’s not that.” 
“Then what is it?” He grabbed the back of the chair and slowly turned it so you’d have no choice but face him. “Why’d you go behind my back like this? And why lie to me?” 
You looked up at him. Piercing eyes staring down at you as the computer screen illuminated only half of his face. His hands remained on the back of the chair so he was closer now. His scent drove you insane. Damn hormones! Lately all you ever wanted to do was be close to him. His scent… it did things to you. This was unfair. 
“I just wanted to confirm that–,” 
“Why not just trust me?” 
You couldn’t help but say, “Trust you? After you kidnapped me and told me my family didn’t want anything to do with me? I’m supposed to just trust you?” You didn’t mean for it to come out like that but there was no going back now. 
“Kidnapped?” Lando scoffed. “Bringing you home where you belong isn’t kidnapping.” 
You sighed again. “I’m not saying I don’t want to be here with you, Lando. But I needed to make sure all was well at home.” 
“And is it?” 
You nodded sheepishly, looking up at him to find him clenching his jaw in that way that made you think of sinful things. 
Thank fuck, he thought, that your friend kept her mouth shut and didn’t give you any details about just how well things were at home. How your family and friends constantly had his men around them, keeping watch and notifying him of each of their moves. At this point, Lando knew exactly how many times your family went grocery shopping or to the park. He had his people keeping eyes on them at home, at work, following their cars – there was nothing he didn’t know about. 
“Am I not enough for you?” He asked, standing up straight so he could look more menacing as he stared down at you still sitting in front of him. 
Only his stance just made your body throb even more. He looked godly from this angle. Like some dark, tortured, tragic hero in his all black suit which fit him like a second skin. That metal chain hanging from his neck. His pretty eyes on you. You had to take a deep breath and shoo away all the filthy images that filled your head. 
You rolled your eyes at his question. “Don’t be dramatic.” 
“Dramatic?” He scoffed. “You’re reaching out to your friends, talking to people behind my back, then lying to me about it and I’m supposed to just what, do nothing?” He accused. “For now it’s emails, what if in the future some day you decide you want to leave me? Will you expect me to just stand there, not be dramatic, and do nothing?” 
You sighed, rolling your eyes as you tried to stand up but he carefully pushed you back down on the chair. Leaning down so he was staring into your eyes, he said, “Do you want to leave me, mama? Is that what’s going on here?” 
“You’re blowing this out of pro–,” 
He cut you off by pulling his shiny, silver gun out and placing it gently on the desk. Right where you both could clearly see. Within arms’ length, but definitely closer to you. 
His voice dropped as he leaned closer, lips bruising against your cheek as he ignored your side of the argument and said, “If you are thinking of running then you better use this and make sure I’m no longer breathing before you do.” He pulled away to look at you. The proximity, the danger in the air, the inevitable tension, it made you breathless. “Because if you run, I will chase.” He whispered, “And you won’t like what I do to you when I catch you.” 
Your heart was pounding, mind racing and the filthiest of outcomes flooding your brain. Still you asked, “You think I would hurt you?” 
He smirked and he’d never looked more unhinged than he did in that moment. It scared you, about just as much as it excited you. He glanced down at his gun. “Not worth living if I can’t have you anyway.” He whispered. 
“Don’t say that.” You shook your head, finally reaching out to hold his face in your hands. “I need you. We need you.” 
That made him look down at your bump, partially visible now since your little PJ top didn’t cover all of it. He dropped to kneel in front of you, bending to kiss the bump again like he always does. 
“I’m sorry, little one,” He whispered, nuzzling the warmth of your skin. “Daddy has to be mean to mama for a bit. She’s being difficult, you see?” Then he looked up at you and said, “I don’t wanna fight.” 
“Neither do I.” You stood up this time, taking a few steps just to put some distance between you and him so you could think straight and take a deep breath. “I just don’t understand why the thought of me being connected to what used to be my home bothers you so much.” 
He slowly turned to the desk and grabbed his gun. None of that scared you. You were safe with him, you were certain of that. So you watched him. Watched how he slowly turned to you and said, “Because there’s the possibility of you leaving me and going back there.” 
You sighed in frustration. “There’s always going to be the possibility for every single thing. That’s how life works! So what, you’ll wipe the entire town out of existence? Burn it to the ground? Turn it to nothing but ash? All so I won’t even have a home to go back to if I ever leave you?” 
He gave you that same unhinged smirk from earlier. Then said, “Don’t tempt me.” 
“Lando.” You warned. 
“What?” 
“What the fuck do you want, huh?” 
He moved. 
He walked towards you and for each step he took, you took one back. Until your back met with one of the book shelves and he was right in front of you. “I’m getting tired of this conversation.” 
You spat back, “I’m getting tired of your face.” You lied. 
He chuckled, then looked down at the bump between you two, caressing it as he said, “You hear that, little one? Mama’s being a brat.” He looked up at you and said, his voice deeper now, “But don’t you worry, daddy will deal with it.” 
It all happened too quickly. Him getting your clothes off, kissing you to distract you as he walked the two of you over to the nearest couch. You bit his lower lip in annoyance till you almost drew blood, and he just chuckled before kissing you even deeper as he carefully pushed you down on the couch, hovering over you supporting himself with one hand while the other one held his gun right above your face. 
“You’re being difficult again, baby.” He murmured, gently lowering his gun and brushing the barrel against your lips, then slowly dragged it down your chin. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He dragged the tip of his gun all the way down your trembling, naked body, down your thighs and back up till he pressed it against your wet folds. He chuckled when he saw you grinding against it. “Does it feel good? Hmm?” He asked. “Does it make you feel all powerful knowing you piss me off more than anyone ever dares to and can get away with it? All because I love you too much to actually punish you? Does it, baby?” 
You frowned at him, still annoyed. “Shut the fuck up.” You didn’t stop grinding against the cold gun. You whined when he pulled it away from your skin and tossed it to the side. 
He had a mean smirk on his face, calm despite everything. You studied his handsome face for a moment. Your emotions were shifting from guilt to annoyance to lust, and your heart fluttered when he whispered, “Spread those legs for me. Show me what’s mine.” 
The crude casualness of his words would’ve surely made you blush if you weren’t dripping wet and burning with desire. And regardless of how pompous you thought he was, how authoritative and overbearing – and no matter how annoyed you were – you did just as he asked. 
You held his stare as you spread your legs so he could settle in between them. Lando eyed you with a mischievous smirk. “There’s my good girl. Now hold yourself open for me.” He said, then lowered his mouth, watching as you carefully spread your folds open for him. “Fuck…” He murmured as he kissed your knuckles. 
You couldn’t see his face – because of the bump – but his warm breath against your fingers, your wet skin, the soft touch of his fingers as he spread your wetness around, followed by his tongue, all of it had you moaning as you arched your back, leaning into his mouth even more. 
You could see his hips moving while he ate you out, grinding into the couch and for some reason that made you whine even louder. “Lando …” you whimpered. 
He smirked against your inner thighs. “Don’t you dare come just yet.” 
You whined, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth to keep yourself from moaning too loudly. Lando smirked when he craned his neck and saw how you were struggling to keep quiet. He knew just how sensitive your body had become these days, how badly you craved his touch at all times. And right now, he noticed the way your body squirmed under him, and he knew you too well so he could tell that you were so close to coming. 
“Baby… please,” You whined, releasing your swollen lip from your teeth. Your body felt hot, and you needed to just let go and come. 
“Please what?” He taunted, shamelessly ignoring your pleas. “Is it frustrating? Wanting something so badly and having someone else just threatening to take it away? Hmm?” He slid his tongue up and down your slit, careful not to make you come and enjoying the way you growled through gritted teeth. “This is how it feels, baby. Everytime you argue and bring up that little town. The thought of you leaving me here and returning there…” He playfully bit your inner thigh. “This is exactly how it feels. Like I’m a fucking madman ready to do whatever it takes just to have what I want. Which is you next to me. Always.” 
You let out a loud moan as he kissed your throbbing clit ever so gently. “I’m sorry,” You caught yourself whispering. “I’ll… I’ll let it go. I promise. There’s nowhere else I would rather be.” You lifted yourself up on one elbow and looked down at him. He looked up at you, with his lips more pink and fuller than usual. “I want to be here, right next to you. Always.” You promised. 
He seemed proud of that. Nodding gently, he said, “See how easy that was, mama?” He kissed his way up your inner thighs again, “I love you.” He murmured, looking deep into your eyes as if daring you to not say it back. 
You couldn’t resist him. “And I love you.” You melted right under his touch as his tongue gently licked down your folds. 
His hand found yours and he laced his fingers with yours while his other hand rubbed up and down your thigh as he pushed his face further into your wet core, making you whimper in pleasure. Your legs had begun shaking just a little as he took his time and dragged his tongue up and down your slit, teasing your sensitive spots with his warm and wet tongue. 
“Please…” You moaned pathetically. 
Then heard his merciless chuckle as he pulled away, kissing his way up your body again. He leaned in to kiss your open mouth eventually, making you gasp and moan. He quickly placed his fingers where his mouth had been earlier, teasing your clit before shoving two fingers inside of you and stroking your walls so slowly that you were well past caring if the guards could hear you moaning. 
He pulled away just for a moment, to quickly take his suit jacket off, then his shirt. He tossed both somewhere on the floor and bent down to kiss you again. He kissed down your neck, leisurely taking his time as he unzipped his pants. 
“Please,” You whined, sliding your fingers into his soft hair. “I need you. Now.” You spoke through gritted teeth by the end, tugging at the roots of his curly hair. 
“So needy.” He murmured, loving it actually. It made his ego inflate knowing his woman needed him so badly. “I’m here, baby. “I’m gonna take care of you,” He whispered as he lowered his underwear just enough to free his cock. He was rock hard this whole time. It was a fucking miracle he was able to even wait this long. 
With a slow, steady push, he slid his cock into you. You shuddered, moaning as you felt all of him filling you up. Lando held back his moans and growls as he felt your warmth wrap around him so perfectly. He clenched his jaw as he relished the feeling of being inside of you, finally. 
“This what you needed, mama?” he asked, looking down at you, and gently grabbing your face, making you look up at him. 
You just stared at him with parted lips, breathing heavily. Lando smirked, pulling out just a little before pushing back into you again. You closed your eyes and moaned, arching your back, your bare chest pressing against his. 
Lando leaned in to kiss your open mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth while he began moving in and out of you. You whined senselessly, overwhelmed by how good he felt deep inside you. 
He leaned down to push his face into your neck as he lifted one of your legs and hooked it to his waist, pushing himself deeper inside you. “Fuck…you’re mine, you hear me?” 
You nodded. 
“Only mine…” Lando quickened his pace and pounded into you harder than before. “My woman,” He spoke, his voice thick and deep with lust. “Mine.” He stared down at you with a handsome and arrogant smirk on his face. “Say it.”  
“I’m yours.” You repeated, eyes getting droopy with desire. 
Lando caressed your cheek with his knuckles, his other hand holding him up above you. He looked down at you with nothing but love and fierce adoration in his eyes. “Come for me.” 
You let the pressure build inside you, before simply letting go. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, Lando kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even as you came. 
You felt your second release approaching even before you could recover from the first one. 
You felt your mind getting foggy again. His lean body hovering above you as he fucked deeper into you, as much as he could while still being careful not to hurt you – it was a new fear of his, that he would somehow hurt you during sex. “Come for me again, baby.” He growled, his lips dangerously close to yours as you whined and whimpered under him. 
Your body trembled as you came for the second time, walls tightening around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you until he came as well. “Fuck, baby…” His voice cracked in a way that had you clenching even harder around him. 
You were gasping for breath after that, and Lando twisted you both on your sides so you could rest for a while. He knew all too well that you had the habit of drifting off into deep sleep right after some good sex. 
Kissing your forehead, he murmured, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ll get us in bed in a while, okay?” 
You nodded, burrowing deeper into his warm, muscular chest as you let yourself pass out in bliss. 
— 
You began snoring softly in no time, so he was in no rush to get you to move. He grabbed the blanket from before and made sure you were nice and warm before he carefully slid from under you and retrieved his phone from his trousers on the floor. 
Letting the back of his hand gently caress your cheek, and bending down to kiss your bump one last time, Lando moved away from the couch and went towards the desk. Sitting down on the chair, he made a phone call while he kept an eye on what the screen displayed. 
Those damned emails. 
He smirked when he heard the person on the other end answer. He wasn’t calling to have a full conversation – not with you sleeping just a few feet away. 
“You know what to do.” He ordered over the phone. Then ended the call once the person on the other side confirmed that they indeed knew what he was talking about. 
He tossed his phone aside then closed the tabs on his computer. Deleting the emails before he did so. He scoffed, thinking about that damn little town which was being a pain – but not for long. 
He walked back to where you were sleeping. Kneeling beside the couch, he couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss your cheek. “My baby,” He murmured, letting his lips brush against your skin for a while longer. “I love you so much.” He couldn’t get enough of you. “I’m doing this for us.” He smiled, “You’ll understand one day. I’m just making sure that if ever I can’t have you, then no one can.” 
a/n: hi!! I won’t be writing any more parts for this story. I’ve been loving fics with open endings lately so yeahhhh (there will be more mob fics tho don’t worry <3)
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abbyscherry · 1 day
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🇵🇸 daily click | palestine masterpost | important tlou post
abby playing with your clit. 18+
abby, who decides on putting her hand down your pyjama shorts during a movie and keeps reassuring you that she means no other intention and it’s really just to warm up her usually warm hands, but in reality, she just loves touching you. biting at her cheek, stifling back her quiet chuckles the second your body starts squirming in the spot between her legs when her fingers abruptly start rubbing circles on your clit.
“what are you doing?”
she just chuckles at your question. she chuckled at you. “i’m watching the movie, baby. like you should be doing”
“you’re distracting me” 
you bite back a scowl when she simply shrugged at your words, and turned her attention back onto the movie, her fingers still slowly moving against your clit, with no intention of stopping. wanting to see how long it would take you to turn the movie off.
don’t get her wrong, she loved whatever you picked— although she doesn’t remember what the hell it was. she just loved watching you squirm and cum more than a dumb movie you could watch any other night.
a smirk starts to appear on her face, her eyebrow slowly quirked up when you’re wrapping your arm around hers, gasping out soft breaths with each stroke of her fingers. “abigail” you gritted your teeth, still watching the screen. trying to not let your eyes flutter closed.
“m’not even touching you that much” she’s scoffing, rolling her eyes again, dragging her fingers lightly over your clit. “s’not my fault you can’t focus on the movie”
“you’re touching me, how am i supposed to?”
her tongue’s poking the side of her mouth, eyes flickering between the movie and back towards you another time. the way your legs slightly close around her arm, hips bucking up into her touch, trying to get more. needing more, had her grinning smugly. 
each jumpscare of the movie—when you would flinch beside her, only gave her the advantage of rubbing faster, lightly pinching your clit between her fingertips, whispering in your ear to be quiet, enjoy the movie you so badly wanted to watch. 
your lips part once more, squirming around between her legs with another whine when she’s slipping her hand under your shirt, gripping one of your tits and pinching your hard nipple between her fingertips, rolling the bud occasionally. “abby, i swear to god—” another whine rips through your throat when her fingers rub agonisingly slow circles on your clit again. her attention is still on the screen in front of you. 
your breath hitches in your throat more, sinking your nails into her arm harder, and trying so hard to gulp down and swallow the sounds that scratched at your throat, trying to claw themselves out when abby’s teasing, dipping her fingers down and into your hole. her lips resting just against your ear, arrogantly smiling. “stop. m’tryin to watch the movie” 
“i’m trying too, but i can’t when your hand is down my— fucking—”
“do i have to put your panties in your mouth to get you to shut up?” she warned, biting down hard on your earlobe. she’s taunting you. she knows how wet you are. fuck, she can feel it, but abby enjoys teasing you. playing with you. no matter how much you beg. 
“easy for you to say. i don’t have my hand down your pants right now” you scoffed, gripping her tighter once she’s bringing her fingers back up to your clit, rubbing slow circles again this time. 
“not yet you don’t” she chuckled into your ear. “there isn’t long left, you can be patient can’t you, baby?”
“abby— i need—” 
she smiled when your head slumped back against her shoulder, quickly giving in and letting her do what she wanted. whining and gasping softly under your breath at the movements of her fingers still playing slowly with your clit. “yeah i know what you need. but i’m enjoying this movie. you can wait, yeah? can you do that?”
“y..yeah,” you nodded.
“and when it’s done, i swear, i’ll make you cum so many times tonight” 
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princessbrunette · 2 days
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thinking about bunny being in a slightly difficult mood, grumpy, huffing and stomping her foot around tannyhill. rafe’s trying to let her have her temper tantrum since they’re a rare occurrence. but after a few hours of her sour mood not letting up, he manhandles her rove this lap to put in her bunny plug and finger her till she cries and he’s cooing at her about how “only dad can fix that little attitude huh, bun?”
oh my god??????
(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡
he can handle the grumpiness, stomping around in little heels and huffing at minor inconveniences. sour moods never last too long with you, so having to deal with you isn’t exactly something that concerns him. however, he is a little surprised to learn that after a few hours — you’re carrying that same amount of aggression, manicured nails digging into your palm as you storm around with clenched fists, shrugging carelessly to whatever rafe asks you and bottom lip permanently jutted into a pout.
the final straw is when you go to pull your shirt from your dresser where it was folded, tugging a little too hard and hearing a tear. usually, this wouldn’t bother you. you knew deep down that it was no biggie to get something like that fixed, and rafe would never let you walk around with holes in your clothes — but the simple act of it happening sent you over the edge, screaming at the top of your lungs and repeatedly beating the shirt on the dresser, kicking your kitten-heeled feet against the wood of it until the heavy footsteps of your boyfriend had arrived behind you.
“the fuck is —” he cuts himself off, seeing the scene before him, taking in the dramatics before instantly doing what he knew should have done hours ago. in seemingly one quick movement, rafe yanks you by the arm out the way while opening the drawer and pulling out the clean bunny buttplug just waiting for usage. “alright, alright — alright!” he yells over your fussing until it was just broken whines and cries, the boy forcing you over his lap on the bed.
“its broken—” you go to yell once more as rafe yanks up your skirt, but he cuts you off quickly — asserting his dominance in hopes you’ll simply relax.
“lower your voice kid, won’t ask you again.” he commands sternly, and luckily you don’t bother again, sucking in short breaths and sniffling into the bedsheets as he works your panties off completely, knowing you won’t be needing them anymore.
you groan when rafe slots his hand beneath your throat and lifts your head with his grip, bending as much as he can to crane over you and hold the plug to your mouth. “c’mon. get it wet. don’t waste my time.” he taps your bottom lip and you sniffle, drooling until not only the metal was coated but his fingers were too from the run off. “shit, crazy girl.” he tsks as he leans back, touching the tip of it to your puckered hole. “you’re gonna calm the hell down. alright? once this is in you’re gonna chill out. i know you need me to fix that little attitude, okay i know. but you gotta use your words and not freak out on me. daddy can’t help you otherwise. yeah?” he talks to you as he pushes it in, feeling relief in the way your body melts on his lap, still sucking in harsh breaths but slower.
“yeah.” you repeat, knowing you had to say something but your brain was in melting mode, not capable of thinking of much else.
“alright. good. now, look at me — m’gonna ask you something n’i want an answer.” he demands, slowly helping your trembling body to stand between his legs. you clutch his white shirt in your fists, grounding yourself as your tearful eyes flicker over his face. you make a noise of acknowledgment so that he can continue. “what do you want? i— i can’t fix it for you baby ‘cos i don’t know what it is.” he flings out an arm, gesturing the shirt you left strewn on the floor. “is it that? do you want me to look at that? do you need a nap? food?” he shakes his head in exasperation, wide eyes searching yours with parted lips like he was really trying to figure you out.
you sniffle, shuffling on your feet as you stand inbetween his legs, his arm around your lower back keeping you leaning on him — and you’re not saying anything. he blinks, before speaking once more. “its dick. you want dick, huh?”
you didn’t know you did. truthfully, you’d been in a god awful mood all day, feeling like everything was going wrong — and in that moment things became just a little clearer as to why that might be. rafe hadn’t fucked you all week, you’d been out and about doing your own things — which is normal and okay in every relationship — just not in yours. you needed rafe to remind you who’s boss, because you didn’t wanna have to think anymore.
“please.” you nod, fiddling with his shirt button and the hand around your back slides down to beneath your skirt, tugging at the tail before massaging his fingers over your empty hole, feeling the way it gets sticky around him.
“hm. i should’a known.” he drawls, eyeing over you before plucking at your clothes. “gotta take this off, yeah? lemme see you.”
(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡
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astralnymphh · 1 day
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MDNI — ellie + lovers who are on the quiet side during climax. while she may dote upon every cute whimper or little huff you make due to whatever service of ecstasy she's enacting - whether it be oral, fingering, or tribbing - denial is fruitful when it comes to challenging her knack to fuck you into a scream, or two. "gonna show me your voice t'night, babe? 'want that old bigot next door to know how good he can't give it to his wife," rasping with her lips straying a fingerbreadth from yours, feeding you each syllable - and exerting each hump of her crotch into yours. you lay quiet and splayed, per usual, as her swollen, tepid clit brushes yours ever so slightly in muscle memory grinds she executes flawlessly - then glues the two buds together with the intent of bouncing on it - her favorite technique that you prefer. last time she did this, she caught you withholding every bite of the yelp that filled your airways and nearly escaped. so, a surefire way to louden you up now, right? well, not if the tightness threatening the knot in her clit eliminates her first, "oh— fuck, you comin' with me? comin' with— no? haha, god, how fast do i need to fuck you with my pussy? hmm?"
[can include a big text version if requested]
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alltheirdamn · 2 days
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DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader
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*The Bet*
Summary: Joel makes you a bet during a night out. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, mechanic!joel, established relationship, mentions of alcohol, banter, teasing, semi-public sex, unprotected piv sex, oral (f! receiving), edging, ROUGH sex, squirting, hair pulling, choking, cum eating, facial, light spanking, light face slapping, heavy kissing, explicit language, pet names (darlin', cowboy, babydoll), brat taming (kinda?) A/N: This is just pure FILTH. Eat it up, kids, I know you love it.
Masterlist | Ko-Fi
Friday nights always meant date night with Joel. With Tommy babysitting Sarah and the work day done for you both, he insisted on taking you to his favorite bar on the outskirts of town. You were looking forward to a night alone, especially when you had a surprise up your sleeve. Earlier in the week, you came across a boutique in downtown Austin that sold very…niche t-shirts…and couldn’t help buying one. Putting the finishing touches on your makeup, you stepped back and admired your outfit. You had on the tiniest pair of cut-off denim shorts hugging your ass, a pair of worn black cowboy boots, and a fitted tank top with Cowboy Pillows written across your chest. It was perfect, and you knew it would drive Joel crazy. 
Joel stopped dead in his tracks when you came waltzing out of the house and toward his truck; the hand holding open the passenger door tightened until his knuckles turned white. 
Staring you down with a fire lit behind his big puppy dog eyes, Joel shook his head in protest.
“Absolutely the fuck not, babydoll,” he swore. “Take that pretty ass back inside and change.”
You stood before the truck with your arms crossed and the biggest pout forming on your lips. 
“Did you even read my shirt, cowboy?” You asked, moving your arms to reveal the words stretched over your breasts. 
“It’s very cute, darlin’, but you ain’t goin’ out like that,” Joel grumbled. 
“Why?” You frowned. 
“I ain’t tryna get arrested tonight. ‘Cause if one man lay eyes on those perky tits, I’m killin’ them.”
You strode toward him, pressing your body against his. His hands found their usual spot over the swell of your ass, his fingers prodding into the supple flesh hidden under the denim. You hummed as his mouth dipped to your ear, his teeth grazing over the shell as his voice dropped low. 
“Why don’t we just stay in?” He breathed. “Wanna take you right back in the house and fuck you ‘til you can’t walk.”
“You promised me a night out, Joel,” you whined. 
He made his way down your neck, peppering you with open-mouthed kisses before responding to your demands.
“Fine,” he muttered against your skin. “Get your sexy ass in the fuckin’ truck, and let’s go.”
He released you and climbed into the truck with a mischievous grin. Joel quickly pulled you across the bench, tucking you into his side as he pulled out of the driveway and toward the bar. You brushed your hand over Joel’s thigh, your fingers creeping up to the zipper of his jeans. He shifted in the seat, spreading his legs a little wider to welcome more of your touch. 
“You’re gonna get yourself in trouble, babydoll,” he warned. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied innocently. 
His hand shot out before you could drag his zipper down, bringing your fingers up to his mouth to place gentle kisses along each digit. 
“I’ll make you a bet,” he smirked, turning his head to look at you.
“What kind of bet?”
“No touchin’ each other tonight. The first person to do it loses.”
A giggle bubbled out of you as you considered his offer. Knowing Joel, he’d lose before you stepped into the bar. The idea of teasing him all night already had your thighs clenching tight, the friction of the denim against your aching clit nearly too painful to bear.
“What happens to the loser?” You asked.
“Loser gets to do whatever the other one wants.”
The truck slowed to a stop as the streetlight turned red, and you moved closer to reel him in for a deep kiss. If this bet was going to happen, you wanted all the attention before you set out to win the bet. Joel’s tongue brushed over your lips, coaxing your mouth open wider and deepening the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, tangling your hands in his hair to hold him closer. 
“You’re on, cowboy,” you grinned, pulling away as the light turned green. “Hope you’re ready to lose.”
“We’ll see ‘bout that, darlin'.”
The bar was mildly crowded for a Friday night. Most of the patrons were older men sulking around or flirting with the bartenders. Soft country music floated out of the jukebox in the corner, and you found yourself swaying your hips to the melody. Joel watched you as you danced, his eyes never leaving your body unless he caught wind of another man admiring you from afar. You laughed each time he scowled at them and upped the movement of your hips just to get a rise out of him. Watching him try to hold back from touching you was cute, his hand nearly crushing the beer he was nursing. 
After your third drink, the tipsy feeling started to settle in, and self-restraint was slowly phasing out of your body. Joel noticed the shift in your mood as you perched yourself on a barstool. You tried to hide the way you clenched your thighs, chasing the friction of the denim rubbing against your aching clit. Leaning in as close as he could, Joel lowered his head and chuckled. 
“Doin’ okay, babydoll?” He whispered in your ear, his mouth a breath away from your neck.
You shivered at the phantom touch; he was so close, yet not close enough. 
“Stop it,” you exhaled. “You’re not playing fair.”
“Not playin’ fair?” He questioned. “You ain’t been playin’ fair since you walked out the damn house.”
“Aw, poor baby,” you feigned sympathy. “Am I driving you crazy with my lil’ outfit?”
“You have no fuckin’ idea, darlin’.”
Scootching off the barstool, you tilted your head toward the vacant pool table. Joel’s eyes followed the motion, raising his brow at your silent invitation.
“Y’wanna play?” He asked. “Hope you’re ready to lose, darlin’.”
“You talk a big game, cowboy. You’re on.”
You grabbed a cue stick and waited for Joel to rack the balls and center them on the green velvet table. He grabbed his own stick and gestured to you to start. 
“All you, babydoll. Let’s see it.”
You rounded the table and leaned over to line your stick with the cue ball. Inhaling on the pull of your stick, you exhaled and drove it into the cue. The sound of the resin balls breaking shattered the music in the background, their triangle formation scattering across the table. You managed to sink two striped balls into the left corner pocket and rose to assess the damage. Joel stared at you, impressed, nodding as he lined up his stick with the cue. 
“Y’got stripes, babydoll. Solid’s are mine,” he mutters, his eyes trained on the ball. 
You watched, mesmerized, as Joel’s shoulder muscles moved fluidly with each extension of his arm. With a strong drive of the stick, Joel sunk the four ball into the right-center pocket. Giving you a cocky grin, he rounded the table again, this time directly facing you. He stared up at you, his eyes dark under the furrow of his brows. You bent over the table's edge, propping your face onto your hands and shimming your shoulders slightly. Joel’s eyes snapped up to your chest, fixated on the way your breasts pushed together.
“Not fair,” he gritted before sending his stick into the cue ball. 
The ball scratched on the table, missing the solid he aimed for. You smirked at him, sticking your tongue out as you skipped around the table to settle into position against the table. You eyed Joel as he moved to stand behind you, and you rewarded him with pushing your ass out further. Giving your hips a little wiggle, you sent a forceful shot into the cue, sinking the nine ball and ricocheting it against the twelve ball, sending it into the right corner pocket. 
“Damn,” Joel mumbled, tracking your body as you lined up for your third turn. 
“Didn’t think I was good, huh?” You laughed. 
“You’re good at everythin’, darlin’.”
The dip in his voice vibrated up your body as you pressed your legs against the table to line up for the next stroke. Joel leaned his hip against the corner of the table, folding his arms as he watched you aim your stick at the cue. 
“C’mon, babydoll,” he whispered, drawing your focus away from the shot and causing the cue ball to sink into the pocket rather than the fifteen ball you were gunning toward. 
“You play dirty,” you grumbled. 
Joel crowded you, his body inches from yours. You arched into the distance between your bodies, barely keeping your chest from brushing his. 
“I bet those panties are already soaked, huh?” Joel teased.
You gave him an innocent smile, ready to deliver the final blow to his restraint. Rising onto your toes, you kept your mouth close to his ear. 
“They would be if I were wearing any, cowboy.”
You pulled back to see Joel’s nostrils flaring, his eyes roaming down your body and back up. 
“Bathroom. Now.” He demanded. 
“But we’re still playing,” you whined, gesturing to the pool table. 
Joel’s hand shot out to your waist, dragging you to his body. 
“Fuck the game. Need you in that bathroom now so I can fuck that sassiness outta you,” he growled. 
“I’m not sassin’ you, cowboy. You’re just a sore loser,” you taunted. 
“I ain’t gonna ask again, babydoll. You either walk to the bathroom right now, or I fuck you on that pool table in front of everyone.”
“Maybe I want a crowd,” you shrugged with a coy grin. “Bend me over right here, cowboy. Show them who’s yours.”
“Bet you’d like that, huh? Have all them eyes on you while you scream my name and soak the table. Y’wanna show everyone how good y’take my cock?”
“Do it,” you smiled. 
Joel’s hand traveled down your ass, squeezing it hard enough to make you yelp before smacking it hard. A few heads turned at the sound, their wandering eyes scrutinizing you and Joel. Even though Joel could be all talk, you knew he wouldn’t actually fuck you in front of everyone, not when he was the most protective and selfish man there was. 
You were too turned on to fight it now. Turning toward the bathroom, you glanced over your shoulder and smiled as Joel watched you walk to the dimly lit hallway of the bar. You didn’t have the care to notice heads turning to stare at you as you passed, the excitement too strong as it coursed through your veins. You barely had a hand on the door when you felt a warm body pressed against your back, and Joel was quick to shove you inside the one-stall bathroom. With a quick turn of the lock, he had you pinned to the ceramic sink and his mouth crashing against yours. While you tangled your fingers into his messy curls, Joel worked at your shorts, tugging the tight denim down your hips and thighs. He broke away from your lips, staring down at your bare sex as you spread your legs slightly. 
“Fuckin’ christ, babydoll,” he exhaled. “Can’t believe you been keepin’ this from me all night.”
“Like what you see?” 
Joel wrapped two strong hands behind your thighs and lifted you onto the edge of the sink. You gasped at the shock of the cold against your bare ass, bucking your hips forward to search for his warmth. He lowered himself onto his knees, keeping a firm grip on your thighs as you settled your calves over his shoulders. Peering up at you between your parted legs, Joel gave you a wicked grin before brushing his nose up your inner thighs. 
“You know I won, right?” You questioned as his tongue pressed against your throbbing clit. “Technically, I should be calling the shots.”
Joel glared up at you, his pupils blown wide under the red lights of the bathroom. 
“Y’can call the shots all you want later,” he mumbled. “Right now, you’re mine.”
You cried as his tongue dipped inside you, his jaw working overtime to pull each pitiful sound from your body. He drew circles around your slick folds, purposefully avoiding your aching clit. You whined every time his tongue brushed close to it, that agonizing surge of pleasure coursing through your body. Music from the bar drifted into the bathroom, layering over the frustrated cries leaving your lips. 
“Stop teasing, cowboy,” you panted, bucking your hips against his tongue.
“This is what ya’ get, darlin’,” Joel spoke against your wet cunt.
“Please,” you begged.
He pulled away entirely, leaving you chasing the orgasm you never got. Spinning you toward the mirror, Joel worked at freeing his cock with one hand while pressing the other hand into your spine. You flattened against the sink, your hands pressed against the mirror. Glancing up, you met his eyes in the mirror, watching as his lips twitched into a devilish grin. That was all the warning he gave before he drove into you in one fluid stroke. 
“Fuck!” You cried, your head falling between your shoulders.
Joel’s hand wound around your hair, twisting it into a ponytail and yanking your neck back until you strained against his grip. 
“Nuh uh, babydoll,” Joel grunted. “Watch me while I fuck you.”
You locked your eyes with his through the reflection, watching as his face twisted into something carnal. He pounded into you with enough force to make the sink underneath you creak with the weight pressed against it. Joel kept a relentless pace, dismissing every whine and sob falling off your lips. He reached around you with his other hand, wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing tight. You heaved in a breath as your vision blurred, the pleasure mixing with pain every time he slammed into you.
Your orgasm started surging up through your core, snaking into your bloodstream and becoming unbearable to hold back. You choked out a sob, your thighs quaking as the pleasure built inside your stomach.
“Joel,” you choked. 
“Y’need to cum, babydoll?” Joel taunted, driving into you hard.
His cock hit the right spot over and over again until he felt your cunt clenching around him. He pulled out at the exact moment your orgasm exploded through your body, liquid gushing out of you and down your thighs. Joel growled in approval, sinking back into you as the aftershocks sent tremors through your limbs.
“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praised. “Keep takin’ my fuckin’ cock. I ain’t done yet, babydoll.”
His hand was still gripping your throat, his fingers applying more pressure to cut off your ragged whimpers. You clawed at the edge of the sink, entirely at Joel’s mercy as he wrecked into you harder…faster. He didn’t lie when he said he was going to fuck the sass out of you; you were helpless in this moment. 
But you fucking loved it.
“So. Fuckin’. Good.” Joel punched out each word through every thrust. 
Joel released your throat and wrapped both hands in your hair, using it to guide your hips back against his cock. You were so full of him and so sore, but you couldn’t deny the pressure swelling inside your stomach. You gasped for air as each thrust grew stronger, his cock assaulting you until you spasmed under him and let your orgasm rush out of you. 
“Fuck! Fuck… fuck… fuck,” you chanted, chasing the throbbing pulse inside your body. 
Warm liquid drenched his cock, the lewd sound of his hips meeting yours echoing around you. Joel pulled out suddenly, leaving you hollow and soaked. Wrangling you to your knees, Joel pumped his cock over your open mouth, grunting out your name as his release painted your tongue and lips. Bending down to eye level, Joel lapped up the cum dripping off your swollen lips before bringing his hand up to slap your cheek. He rubbed a hand over your face, smearing your makeup around, leaving you a fucked-out mess.
“Y’look so pretty like this,” he hummed, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth, his tongue intertwining with yours. 
“I love you, babydoll,” he sighed, pressing his lips against your forehead. 
“I love you too, cowboy,” you preened. 
You were used to him being rough—dominant—but this possessiveness was intoxicating. You wanted more.
“I think I should sass you more often,” you giggled. 
“You enjoy bein’ fucked like a bratty lil’ slut?” He smirked. 
“Love it,” you exhaled, dragging him back to your mouth. 
Joel helped you back into your shorts after you both took a moment to breathe. You turned towards the mirror and admired the complete mess that you were; your hair was mangled into knots, your shirt was askew, and your face was covered in streaks of mascara, smeared lipstick, and drool. A giggle bubbled out of you as you tried to tame down your hair and wipe away some of the makeup coating your rosy cheeks. Joel grabbed your hand, tugging you away from the mirror.
“Leave it,” he whispered. “Want everyone to see how filthy you are.”
“Seriously?” You gaped. 
Joel nodded his eyes, his eyes coasting over your body. 
“Seriously, babydoll. Need to show them you’re mine.”
“I think they already know,” you said pointedly. “I’m pretty sure I was loud enough to break the jukebox.”
He chuckled at your statement, tapping your ass and guiding you toward the door. Dropping his mouth to your ear, he softly kissed your neck before twisting the lock open.
“C’mon, darlin’. Let’s go home so y’can have your way with me.”
“I’m going to make you pay for this, cowboy,” you warned. “I'm going to have you on your knees begging for it.”
“I’ll happily worship you all night, babydoll,” he smiled, kissing your cheek before guiding you into the hall and out to his truck.
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ellecdc · 3 days
Note
Ooooo Mother, i'll do one better!!
What about the boys (established relationship) being needy over reader?? Like something she does or says or wears.
ooooooooof good one babes
okay, mature content ahead: viewer discretion is advised
James:
you come down the stairs to the Gryffindor party looking like that
certified simp, there would be no question what was going through his mind when he get's needy like this
glassy eyes just ogling you
following you around like a lost puppy - his friends would joke that you had him on some invisible leash
probably has a hand on you at all times
I see him getting a little whiny: "can we go now?" "the party's almost over, right?" "they won't miss us for a few minutes?"
whatever ends up happening afterwards is rushed and frantic - it's very obvious how absolutely desperate he was for you
Sirius:
you come down the stairs to the Gryffindor party looking like that
I don't think he lets you make a full round of the party before he's pulling you up to his dorm and locking the door
"Siri! I was talking to Emmeline!"
He'd scoff at you as he started shedding his clothes. "You come down stairs looking like that and expect me not to want to jump your bones immediately? Fuck, look at you; who even gave you permission to look this good, huh?"
idk about you but that sentence alone would have me in a puddle
ravishes you - you both look like a right mess afterwards
he takes about 30 seconds to revert back to his dishevelled rockstar appearance (which is so unfair because it took you a little longer to get ready tonight)
he dutifully helps you get redressed - the whole nine yards. Hair, makeup, outfit; though he makes sure some of the marks he's decorated your skin with are visible... "they compliment the ensemble, doll face"
Remus:
you come down the stairs to the Gryffindor party looking like that
he's got a good pokerface, but there'd be signs
he'd be a little quieter during conversations - most of his attention placed on you, one of his hands would be near his mouth as he played with his lips (like a nervous tick, almost like he really wants a cigarette right now)
but this man's M.O.? Get you feeling just as needy as he is
he would ask you to dance - and it'd be sinful: your back pressed up against his front as your hips sways in sync to the beat
his hands would be all over you: running up and down your thighs, slipping under the skirt of your dress, arms wrapping around your middle, gentle kisses pressed to your ears and neck
he'd have you so wound up and when you finally turn in his lap to ask him if he wanted to go upstairs, he'd smile at you and say "great idea, dove. I don't think they'll miss us for a little while."
get's exactly what he wanted and somehow it had been your idea
Regulus:
you come down the stairs to the Slytherin party looking like that
I think it would piss him off a little bit, quite frankly - how dare you come down stairs looking that good and acting like you weren't knocking the wind out of Regulus? (and likely every other partygoer there)
I think because he's feeling slightly jealous/a little peeved at you, he'd keep his distance at the party; but you would feel his eyes on you all night
his predatory gaze watching you as you navigate the party, sending threatening glares at anyone getting too close or was looking for too long
finally as the party is dying down, you're halfway through a conversation with Dorcas when you feel a looming presence behind you
"We're leaving." He says simply, taking your elbow and ushering you towards the dorm rooms.
you try to scold him for interrupting your conversation and rudely dragging you away from the party
he narrows his eyes and looks you up and down: "you don't get to show up to the party looking like sex on a stick and then berate me for finally getting you alone"
you smirk at him. "if you wanted me alone so bad, all you had to do was ask"
"Well, here I am." "I'm all yours, reg"
Barty:
you come down the stairs to the Slytherin party looking like that
your foot has barely hit the last step before you're hastily thrown over Barty's shoulder and he's running to his dorm room
"But Barty! The party!"
"Fuck the party! There are more important things to do."
you guys never make it back to the party - a shame too, you really liked that dress....the one that was since ripped off of your body and sat in a pile on the floor
"Don't worry treasure, I'll buy you 40 more of those dresses; though I can't promise they won't end up in the same state"
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superhaught · 1 day
Text
Sweetest Girl
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Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Warning(s): slight reference to bad home life for reader?
Word Count: 1700, Part 1/?
Anonymous Asked: hello! I was wondering if I could request a regina x fem!reader fic where the the reader is known as the sweetest girl in school that everyone loves and regina is like “what’s so great about her” and just ends up falling in love with her
Enjoy! I intend to keep this one going :D
Regina knew that she wasn’t excelling in her chemistry course this year but she certainly didn’t think she was failing. But the teacher asked her to stay behind after class and gave her a solemn look as she explained that with Regina’s most recent test score (which was, admittedly, abysmal), her overall grade in the class would drop from barely passing to failing. 
“Well, what am I supposed to do? I’m a senior, it’s not like I can retake this class!” Regina griped, beginning to feel her stomach turn over in panic.
“Calm down, Miss George. You still have time to improve your grade. I’d recommend that you start working with a tutor. One of your classmates is available for such an arrangement as it turns out. She’s a very gifted student who is doing quite well in this class. She will likely tutor you not expecting anything at all in return. Are you willing to reach out to her?”
Regina crossed her arms in front of her chest, “I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”
Regina’s teacher formed a thin-lipped smile, “No, Miss George. You don’t.”
Regina took the slip of paper with the tutor’s contact info scribbled on it from the teacher and left the classroom for her locker in a huff. 
Gretchen and Karen were waiting for her and immediately, Gretchen was hounding the blonde in concern, “is everything okay, Regina? What did the teacher want?”
Regina sighed, “I’m failing. I need a tutor, I guess.”
“Oh no!!!” Gretchen exclaimed. 
Karen tapped into the conversation in a brief moment of focus and said, “don’t worry, Regina. I failed chemistry last year and had to be tutored, too.”
Regina rolled her eyes, “yes Karen, and you fucked your chemistry tutor instead of studying.”
Karen smiled, “oh yeah!”
Gretchen chimed in, “well, it’s going to be okay Regina. I bet you’ll do really well if someone can take their time to explain the concepts to you. Do you know who will tutor you?”
Regina nodded, “yeah, the teacher gave me this name. Someone in my class.” Regina passed the slip of paper to Gretchen. 
When the small brunette read the name she made an excited sound, “oh! I know her, she’s the sweetest ever! You’ll like her Regina. She’s like, the nicest girl in the school.”
Regina narrowed her eyes and snatched the paper back, “why would I like the nicest girl in school? She sounds like a try-hard… What makes her so great?”
-
You were enjoying your lunch outside in the courtyard because it was a sunny day out. You scrolled through your phone and an email notification caught your eye so you opened it right away. The email read: Hey, I need a chemistry tutor. Teacher gave me your name. Can you? -Regina George
Oh, wow. You thought. Regina George wants me to tutor her?
You typed your response back and sent it off with a whoosh: Hi Regina, I’m happy to help! Do you want to meet to go over logistics today after school? I’ll be in the library if you want to swing by :) you can also feel free to text me if that’s easier
You sent Regina your phone number at the end of the email and in a few minutes, you got a text from, presumably, Regina. She said, “okay whatever” then another few seconds passed and she sent another text, “this is Regina, obviously.”
You responded, “haha yes, I figured!”
The little bubble that indicated she was typing popped up for a long moment and then disappeared. Then it popped back up and turned into a simple text, “k.”
-
Later that same day, you were sitting in the library doing your homework in the welcome peace and quiet. As you were working, you saw the blonde out of the corner of your eye. 
Regina walked down the half staircase into the library and flipped her hair over her shoulder, her tote bag hung from the crook of her elbow, and her other hand held an iced latte notably not from the student-run cafe but instead from the Starbucks down the road from the school. 
Regina approached your table and plopped her bag down on the floor and pulled out the chair across from you, “went to get a coffee before meeting you, hope you don’t mind. You didn’t want anything did you?”
You smiled and shook your head, “I don’t mind, and no thank you, I’m okay. I don’t drink coffee.”
Regina raised an eyebrow as she sat down, “you don’t drink coffee? How do you survive?”
You laugh lightly, “I guess I’ve never really needed it, and I prefer tea anyway.”
“Huh…” Regina didn’t seem satisfied with your answer but she dropped it, “so, do you just stay here to do homework after school?”
“Usually, yeah! I like to get as much done as I can before the library closes.”
“Why would you want to spend more time in this godforsaken school?”
You swallowed hard, “Oh, um… just ‘cause.”
“Kay…”
“So, do you want to talk about tutoring for chemistry?”
“Sure.”
“Okay great, do you know how often you want to meet or how many hours you want to do per week?”
“Christ, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay!” You assured her, “let’s just start with two hours a week for now. We can meet twice a week for one hour each and see if that feels good or if we need to work more or drop down to just an hour.” 
“Alright.”
“Does this time work for you?”
“Yeah.”
“And what about another day in the week?” You asked.
Regina shrugged, “Thursdays?”
“Perfect!” You jotted down a note of the schedule in your planner.
“Do you tutor a lot?” Regina asked, then sipped her coffee.
“Not super often. When I do, it’s usually because a teacher recommended me.”
“Are you like a teachers pet or something?” 
“I don’t know, I just like helping.” 
Regina was silent for a moment. She was considering you. Examining you. 
“So for chemis-“ you began.
“You know, it’s like weird how nice you are. Like, it’s off putting.” 
“Oh… off putting?”
“Yeah, ya know. Like you don’t have to be nice all the time, or for free. Not everyone deserves kindness.” 
“I mean, I disagree, but-“ 
“I can pay you, you know. For tutoring me, I mean.” 
“You don’t have to, though. I don’t need you to.” 
Regina scoffed, “you’re just gonna give me your time and energy for nothing?” 
“Yes. I just want to help. It’s not transactional.” 
“Oh, you sweet thing. Everything is transactional. Maybe you don’t want my money but you expect to get something out of this, don’t you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t.” 
You were frustrated, “how do you know that? You don’t know me or what I’d do!” 
“No one does anything for free. No one performs a service for free. No one is that nice.” Regina took another drink of her coffee. 
“Are you trying to ruin this?” 
Regina raised an eyebrow again but was quick to respond, “am I making you mad?” 
“You’re frustrating me. I’m just trying to do a nice thing.” 
“So you don’t want me to question your motives?” 
“No! I mean…” you huffed angrily, you felt your cheeks grow increasingly red and hot, “there is no motive.” 
“I don’t believe that.” 
“Look, do you want my help or not?” 
“I want to be tutored. What I don’t want is to owe you anything.” 
“You don’t owe me anything!” 
Regina’s expression turned into the slightest smirk as she stood up from the table and grabbed her tote bag off the floor, “I’ll meet you again on Thursday to review this week’s course materials. When I see you again, I expect an answer about what exactly it is you hope to get out of doing this for me.” 
With that, Regina turned and left the library, her hair swishing behind her. 
You hadn’t noticed until then, but you had crumpled up a piece of paper in your hand during that conversation. 
-
Thursday came around too soon for your liking. You had no answer for Regina’s demand, other than the truth, which you didn’t want to tell her. 
At 4:05 pm sharp, Regina waltzed down the stairs into the library once again, tote bag in hand, removing her sunglasses in an elegant motion, a drink carrier from Starbucks with two drinks in her other hand. 
You watched as Regina gracefully spit her chewing gum into a trash can on her way while walking up to your table.
She took one of the cups out of the drink carrier and set it down in front of you, “chai latte. Is that okay?” 
Your jaw dropped open a bit as you stared stupidly at the drink and then back up at her, “y-yeah… that’s really nice, thank you.” 
Regina didn’t sit down, “do you have an answer for me?” 
You sighed, “you really won’t accept that I just want to help you out?” 
Regina wordlessly shook her head. 
You looked down at your hands and saw that they were shaking slightly, so you hid them under the table in your lap and kept your eyes averted from Regina as you whispered, “I do what I can to avoid spending time at home.” 
Regina remained silent. 
You looked back up at her. Her jaw was set and she had a severe expression. You watched her exhale a heavy breath through her nose, nostrils flaring, then she sat down across from you and dropped her bag onto the floor. 
“Okay,” she said simply. “Let’s get started then.” 
-
You spent the next hour reviewing that week's chemistry lessons with Regina. 
When you decided to stop for that evening, Regina reached across the table and wrote something into your notebook. 
“There, that’s my address. You don’t have to check in with me, or anything, you can just come over whenever you want to.”
“Regina, are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. My mom loves having company to entertain, and there’s plenty of space in my room for you to be comfortable and do work.”
“I… I don’t know what to say.”
“How about, ‘thank you?’”
You laughed and nodded, “thank you, Regina. Really.”
The blonde stood up and returned her notes to her bag, “‘course. See ya tomorrow in class.”
“See you then…”
378 notes · View notes
werecreature-addicted · 15 hours
Note
Your Bully Werewolf is /life/ love him, 100/10 would let bully again. Just imagining him tugging you onto his lap, no no he's not going to do anything /perverted/, you desperate loser. But he keeps rubbing and trailing his claws down there, petting and stroking (whichever) for their little nerd. Denying it even once they either pulled panties aside under a skirt or tugged bottoms down enough to bully their way inside, cockwarming or bouncing their cute little fuck toy. You can take it right? Oh no, no no, you don't get to be loud and pathetic, what if someone hears you?
Jock bully werewolf who fucks you in increasingly public places and shoves his clawed fingers in your mouth under the pretenses of keeping you quiet but really he doesn't give a fuck if you get caught he just likes having you suck his fingers and listen to the pretty gagging noises you make.
Eventually, he's just pulling you onto his lap in a crowded party. How did you even get invited to a party like this anyway? oh, he invited you because he was horny? That doesn't sound like something he'd do, you liar.
You squirm in his lap as his nails trail up your thighs, no one's even looking at you, even if they were everyone's so used to Ceaser's bullshit, no one would be surprised to see him fucking you in front of everyone like this.
"Ceaser stop," you whine, rubbing your ass back against his half-hard cock.
"what? I'm not even doing anything, you're the one practically bouncing on my cock you slut," he teases, even as he runs his thumb over the edge of your panties. He moves his thumb closer to your clit, he leans in, and whispers in your ear "No one's looken' just shut up like a good girl and no one will know,"
"Ceaser-" you whimper again, and to your surprise, he stops, pulls his hands away from you completely, and falls back against the couch so that his chest isn't pressed against your back anymore. you look back at him confused.
"fine, fine whatever quit your bitching," he grumbles, you're so confused. this isn't how things go. you whine and beg him to stop and he fucks you anyways, you both knew you weren't being serious when you told him to knock it off. What made this time different?
"Wh- why'd you stop?" you protest, he grins at you teasingly, showing off his sharp teeth.
"God you can't fucken make up your mind, can you? 'Ceaser, stop! Ceaser keep going!' which is it? huh?" he asks. You pout. you don't like asking for what you really want, it's embarrassing.
"I uhm- I want-" you stammer,
"go on sweetheart, tell me,"
"I want you to fuck me just... you know. in private," you mumble out, He laughs before standing and throwing you over his shoulder. you yelp and it feels like every eye in the party turns to look at you, you blush and hide your face in your hands as Ceaser drags you upstairs to somewhere at least a little more private to fuck you right.
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periprose · 11 hours
Text
Sweet as Nuka Cola
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Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Reader
You're an upcoming actress who has a constant flirtation with Cooper Howard. But even if things seem to be off to a good start, a nuclear bomb, a cryogenic pod, and two hundred years of carnage ruins all of it. Is there something to be salvaged from your relationship with Mr. Howard?
Genre: Mutual pining, flirting, slow-burn, angst, friends to kind-of enemies to lovers (no cheating but maybe it's a little murky?)
Word Count: 11k
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“Action!”
“Hello. Yes, it’s me.” You wave at the camera, adorned in a classic-red sweetheart neckline dress. “You might know me from ‘Girls Want It All’ or ‘Next Door Babe.’”
Here, you play up your recent bombshell status. As Ed, the director of this advert, keeps reminding you, you need to sell yourself to make customers listen.
You sway in your dress, squeezing your arms and throwing your waist back to plump and push out your chest. The implication of the sex appeal in your movies keeps people watching.
But you’re still a rather new actress, so America might not know you so well. You’re glad Nuka Cola has hired you– if you want to be a star, you need more exposure.
“Do you enjoy feeling refreshed?” You cock your head to the camera, pursing your red lips. “Well, golly, what a silly question. Who doesn't?”
“That's where Nuka Cola comes in.” You lift a bottle out of the cooler next to you, all gentle in demeanour, showing off the logo of the bottle to the camera, in your perfectly manicured hands. “With triple the amount of caffeine found in competitor's bottled cola, it's sure to keep you feeling up for a long, long time.”
“And it's good for you.” Ed whispers, a last minute adlib you did not agree to, but you're a professional, so you add it on with a little wink.
“And it sure as heck is good for you.” You smile, the infamous smile that's won you notoriety to Hollywood execs for being the newest bombshell on the block, and you throw your shoulders back as you really lean into your image. 
“Cut! That's a wrap, everyone!” Ed, wanting to finish early, quickly starts ushering everyone out so not a cent more gets spent. 
You immediately relax out of your practised, professional smile. “Any ADR needed?”
“Don't think so, but we'll let you know.” The director is already moving onto whatever his next project is. Advertisements make more money than anything else these days.
You head over to catering, where you're craving– not a Nuka Cola, considering how much sugar is in that thing it's hardly refreshing at all– but an iced tea. 
You stretch out your ankles in your kitten heels as you prepare it. If you told your Ma back in Mojave that the worst thing about fame would be the uncomfortable outfits, she'd smack you. So you keep it to yourself– you're grateful, you're humble, you'll never be an entitled asshole like those fucking execs.
“Watch out, I'm behind ya.” A man gently presses your shoulder as he walks next to you.
You know that voice. Famous movie cowboy, devilishly handsome, easy to admire. A career worth emulating.
“Mr. Howard?” You turn to look at him, and it is him. Wearing a tuxedo suit, smiling his classic, rugged grin at you.
“The one and the only.” He laughs in a self-deprecating way, as a man tired with his fame and used to mocking it. “Hey, wait, don't I know you?”
You immediately feel your face heat up. “Probably not– lots of people have mistaken me for Lucky Yates so far…”
“No, I do know you.” He points a finger at you, while pouring himself a mug of black coffee. “I told you mister, I'm not here for a long time. Just a good one, and if you can't provide it for me, I'll be inclined to look elsewhere.”
Cooper Howard does a perfect impression of your girly, haughty tone from “Girls Want It All”, and it surprises you that he even knows your dialogue that well. You're not used to this much attention, especially not from one of Hollywood's most notable movie stars.
He says your name.
“Yeah, that's me.” You say sheepishly– even though you know you have to fake that confidence, it's hard when you've been caught off guard. You're starstruck– you don't know how to operate, now realizing that even celebrities are noticing you. “Just shooting an ad for Nuka-Cola.”
“Ah, that’s smart of you.” He leans in– about to give you a bit of Hollywood advice, no doubt– and you feel yourself turning warm at the attention he’s giving you. “I wouldn’t expect any less from one of Hollywood’s upcoming stars– residuals aren’t enough to make the world go round.”
You know he’s admiring your street smarts, but you have to ask. “Upcoming, really?”
“Miss, I’m not sure many other actresses could’ve delivered that little monologue I just did without, er, pardon my language,” Cooper takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes peering down at you over the perimeter of the cup. “Fucking it up. Pantomiming too much wily, feminine shit  that execs love, without that little edge of real, subtle emotion. I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
You giggle a little. “C’mon, really? I hardly got to act the way I wanted to.”
“That’s how it starts. Little moments, little subtleties where you’re letting your real character shine through– it’s noticeable to the industry. More opportunities come that way. But it’s smart to use, uh…” Cooper swallows, a tiny, imperceptible thing that reminds you of your bombshell image, that he must be thinking about it. “Smart to use such attractive imagery, if you get my drift. The public will eat you up.”
The way he drawls that latter part makes you feel excited, but you keep it down– it’s well known Cooper Howard is a married man, and you are not about to be ruined by an affair. Even if he does sound sort of flirty, this sort of complimenting is so common in Hollywood.
“What are you doing in the advertisement shooting lot?” You ask, changing the subject, and Cooper shrugs, a nonchalant ripple of a movement that tells you his general cool demeanour isn’t just acting.
“Promised my wife I’d shoot an advert for her. Vault-Tec, you know?” He admits, telling you he hasn’t forgotten about his wife, either. “Gotta head to the experimental Vault they’ve set up next door.”
“Yes, of course.” You, like anyone else, have seen the ads of Cooper in the Vault-Tec suit– it’s a rather controversial thing to be partaking in, but you think he knows what he’s doing.
“Well, Nuka-Cola.” He hands you an iced tea– one you didn’t even notice him making for you as you were talking to him. “I’ll see you around.”
/
The Ghoul walks around the wasteland, two hundred something years into the future.
He’s searching for a bounty– Leopold St. West– worth at least 1000 caps, and it’s terribly difficult to find him when every single person claims he’s in all these different locations, not a single one correlated to each other.
So he’s walking around a destroyed neighbourhood, where Leopold was last seen a day ago, if his fellow ghouls are to be trusted. If he had to guess, these are the remnants of China Town– the faux Asian-esque details, the cheesy red colouring, the false authenticity Hollywood loves to portray as “good as the real thing”. God, Coop does not miss some parts of the fame.
He suddenly stumbles over a piece of the broken sidewalk. Coop’s usually pretty agile, nonchalant on his feet– he knows this feeling. He’s going through withdrawal.
“Shit, I need a minute.” He mutters to himself, feeling a bit woozy.
He's only got a couple more vials of drugs, so he can't be using them all willy-nilly. No, he needs to recoup things and go through this carefully.
Shelter is necessary– the longer Coop is out in the sun, the harsher the effects of withdrawal feel. And, if he’s lucky, one of these buildings might have something for him to loot– more drugs if he’s extra, extra lucky.
Coop enters a nondescript building– where a radroach is waiting, and he immediately fires at it without even looking, killing it in one shot– and he sees the sign over the entry way, marking the lobby.
This is some Hollywood executive-owned club. It’s hard to tell– two hundredyears of wear-and-tear will do that for you– but Cooper Howard distinctly remembers this place, maybe in some conversation back then, maybe when he was networking. 
Every single thing has a distinct, thick layer of grime over it. Coop thinks of sweaty strippers dancing, actors cheating on their wives– they’re all probably dead now.
He reaches into his satchel and takes a hit of one of his vials– and hopes he can replace what he uses with something here.
There’s not a single bottle behind the bar, and he jostles through, not seeing a chem or a drug left behind by anyone on the floor or behind the counter, and he’s mildly disgruntled over how every place has nearly everything picked clean by raiders, wastelanders– just other people. Coop will always loathe these other assholes.
He climbs the broken stairs with a lanky, languid stretch, making it over a fairly large hole where a corpse waits on the floor below. A raider who didn’t watch where he was stepping. That tells him there should be loot up on this upper floor– at least a bit of it.
He walks to the one closed door in a less-than-discreet hallway, gold sconces and railings marking the way.
“Ah… private office.” Coop jiggles an ostentatious handle to a mahogany door, that is surely leading to an even more pretentiously ostentatious office, and he finds that it’s locked.
A good sign. Most likely no one’s ever been in there, because it’s probably a difficult lock to pick. 
It surprises him that no one’s ever just forced their way through.
Coop doesn’t waste time on this though– he just takes a teeny gun out of his bag, fires it, and admires the hole in the door where the handle used to be. The door creaks open on it’s own, and he saunters into a well furnished, dusty office room.
“Nope, nope, nope…” He pushes box after box in the shelves next to the wall, and they fall with loud clatter– loaded with panicky, nuclear-war-on-the-horizon type shit, like canned meats and beans and preserved jams and pickles. “Fuck no.”
He pushes off a toy figurine of Vault Boy down with extra gusto.
Coop looks behind the desk, where there’s a dusty placard reading Adrian Amos II. He grins– one of the worst producer bastards of all time is not someone he’d feel bad about stealing from, even if there was still some conscience left in him. No, sir, Adrian Amos the second did not deserve any sympathy, especially after the way he was known for bitching about salaries, abusing PAs, and having a predilection for going after less-than-consenting women.
Coop grits his teeth, remembering that asshole and how terrible and gaudy this club was back then. Not that it was better now– but he’s grateful for one man’s deserved death, at least.
He jostles open where the second drawer is filled with the glass clinking sound of many, many vials.
“Fucking jackpot, Jesus.” Coop stares down at how many there are– at least 40 or 50– a hell of a lot to just be left behind.
Well, based on the other supplies, Adrian Amos got fucked over and either didn’t make it to his vault in time, or forgot to run to his private club before heading in.
Coop doesn’t give a fuck, though. He starts piling the vials into his cases, and then back into his bag.
There’s a sudden whirring sound near him. “Huh?”
To his left, an imperceptible secret door has pushed itself outwards, decorated in the same dark brown wallpaper as the rest of the room.
Coop looks down and under– he’s accidentally pressed a secret button on the underside of the drawer. “Fuck.”
He doesn’t know what would be inside the secret room– assassins, raiders waiting on someone to dupe? Maybe even synths, just meant to protect Amos when he needed it.
Inside the room, it’s dark, and he can’t make out anything. Coop can only draw his gun rapidly when there’s a blue light suddenly emitting out from the inside.
He’s careful as he approaches– last thing Coop wants is an ambush– and as his vision improves, he sees it’s a cryonic pod, all frosted over so he can’t make out who’s inside.
Coop sighs, ready to leave it behind– he’s not interested in waking up Amos– and instead, the thing whirs, heating up it’s insides with extremely hot steam, and then opens up with a mechanical flourish.
Coop instinctively steps back, coughing “Holy shit!” as the air whooshes past him.
A body falls out, just looking slightly frosted– mostly thawed by whatever the cryo tank just did. 
/
You're on set again, sitting in a free lawn chair while others get ready for their take– it's not for a Nuka-Cola ad, it's just a guest appearance on everyone's favourite sitcom, The Grady Group, where you play an overly promiscuous babysitter who has no sense for watching over kids.
It's comedic, it's an easy way to get laughs– plus it actually boosts the shows’ ratings since you've been in movies and all. You’re done filming already, you’re just sitting here watching the rest of the shoot, dragging out your return to your car, and then back home. 
Something about the fictional family you wait on, Gill and Gina Grady, and their kids Gideon, Gessica, and Gwen, it makes you miss having a family of your own. In fact, you have half a mind to call your mother, despite all the bitching she’ll give you about the things you haven’t done yet.
It also doesn't help that Gill and Gina are a couple in real life– named Arthur and Bea Smith, they really, really are in love, and in between takes they're often canoodling with each other.
You're happy for them, if not a little– jealous, despite the fact that you're not interested in dating anyone right now. At least, you thought you weren't, but you find that lately, when you return back to your apartment all lonesome after a shoot, you feel like something is missing.
“Hey. Nuka-Cola.” Cooper Howard strolls over to where you're sitting, and you smile up at him, covering your eyes from the sunlight streaming through the windows.
“Mr. Howard. Shooting today?” You ask, and he shakes his head.
“Not at all. Just lounging around, waiting for my kid.” He sits in the lawn chair next to you, leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. “Janey is on a field trip at a museum next door– I thought I’d kill some time before picking her up.”
“Ah, cute.” You grin. Janey Howard is an absolutely precious kid– she shares her dad’s smile, but has a curious nature that you admire. “Is she well?”
“As well as kids can be at that age, running around all the time.” Cooper shrugs. “You know how it is.”
“Kind of. I actually did used to babysit kids, so I know– they can never sit still or mind their business.” You laugh as Cooper grins. 
“So you went method for your guest appearance, huh?” He asks, and you’re mildly baffled.
“How do you know about that?” You squint at him, just being jokingly suspicious.
“Oh, I saw a few clips of your footage. While I was walking over here.” He points over at Stu, the director, standing on the living room set, watching clips on his viewfinder. “Seemed pretty natural to me.”
It almost bothers you that he seems so interested in you and your work, that he always voices support– but he’s well-known for being happily married, for being content in general, unlike you.  
Still, better a friend than nothing at all, that’s what you always tell yourself.
“Thanks. But it’s not hard being around kids, is it?” You reminisce being a kid in Mojave, playing with your friends on your street– and then as a young adult, babysitting new kids that still wanted to play with you. “I still sometimes feel like I’m just a kid pretending to be an adult.”
“That never goes away, darlin’.” Cooper laughs, and you blink. “Being an actor, especially, you’re never losing that childhood sense of wonder, you get my drift?”
“Yeah, of course.” You nod. “I just don’t feel complete, I guess. I’m still waiting for the moment I’ll know I’m an adult– like maybe if I get married or something like that.”
“Being married didn’t change that for me either. Neither did being a dad.” He winces, and scratches at his stubble. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that, but I think it’s all apart of being a human person.”
Your face turns a little more glum at that, and he wonders what he said that bummed you out. It’s not his intention– he wants to cheer you up.
“What’s with the sad, forlorn, ‘I’m-a-pretty-girl-come-comfort-me’ look?” Cooper utters as he leans in, and you laugh a little but silence yourself, recognizing his compliment.
It’s dangerous to flirt with this guy, this taken man who has nothing to gain but a bit of affection he may be missing, but you see that he knows his compliment had effect anyways– and he definitely likes that.
You just choose to assume it’s entirely friendly.
“I just… I like the thought of having a family.” You suck in air,at how foolish and girly this sounds, hardly the cutthroat businesswoman you need to be out here. “This is stupid, I’m sorry.”
“No, no, it isn’t.” Cooper taps his arm rest, thinking. “You’re hurting, I can tell. You got that same pissed off look most ladies get when they ‘don’t wanna talk’ but they’re holding tons of shit inside.”
Damn this guy, you think, but you decide to be honest.
“I just didn’t think it’d be so lonely out here. In Hollywood.” You press your palms together. “Like, everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by classic Americana, the nuclear family– and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m jealous.”
“As a bachelorette, don’t you got plenty of options?” Cooper grins. “I mean, are men not lining up to court Nuka-Cola girl?”
“Ah…” You hum, thinking of dates you’ve had here, settling back in your seat. “I don’t know– it’s cheesy but I want more sincerity.”
“In that case, don’t be jealous, marriage ain’t all that.” Cooper tuts, knowing that you of all people should hear about how it doesn’t complete you. “It’s not perfect, it’s not a magical fairy-tale where everything gets solved, it’s a hell of a lot more work than people let on.”
“Oh.” You knew that, deep down– but hearing it from him really solidifies that for you. It’s a silly dream.
It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, so you quiet down. But you’re not trying to get your hopes up about that or anything.
“And you’re not an idiot, Nuka-Cola. Don’t get into something you’re not a hundred fucking percent sure about.” Cooper clicks his tongue. “If you really feel the urge to suddenly go and play wife with someone, just for me, make sure he’s absolutely worth it.”
“For you?” You raise your eyebrows at that.
“I figure you won’t do it for yourself. Love is blind and all that.” He points at himself. “But if I, as your buddy Cooper, hold you to that? I’ll bet that you’ll vet every single guy.”
“Oh, really.” You smirk at him, your nose scrunching a little. “Is that for my benefit, or yours?”
“Uh…” Cooper is truly caught off guard here. He knows he didn’t intend anything by what he said, but it does feel like… he won’t enjoy the fact that if the next few times he talks to you, continuing become close to you, he’ll have to get the approval of some man.
Some man who wouldn’t even know you as long he has known you. He always likes his chats with you, and there’s an urge inside him not to let you go.
He thinks again that you’re a little too spontaneous. Not easy to dupe, no– he can’t just flirt with you for fun because you’ll always pick up on it, even if he did it by mistake.
“No comment.” He finally answers with a raspy, low tone, one that you barely hear but are satisfied by.
/
A few months later, you check your face in your little compact mirror before stuffing it in your purse and heading inside Sebastian Leslie’s home. Exciting, yes, because this is the first time you’ve been invited not just to network, not just because a big name has seen you in the movies and wants to flaunt that they know you tangentially.
No, this is the first time you know someone, you’re actually in with a crowd– you’re friends with the host. You don’t feel nearly as awkward walking into Sebastian’s comfortable home and seeing familiar faces that you’re close with, decor that you already recognize.
“There she is.” Sebastian greets you with a tight hug– for a massive flirt he’s actually rather protective of you sometimes. “Love the dress, by the way– is that a vintage Chanel? Black is very flattering on you, my dear.”
You get the sense he didn’t want you to be involved in this industry sometimes, but other times– he likes that you put work in.
“I saw your newest advertisement on TV yesterday.” He comments, and you giggle.
“Was it good?” 
“Yeah, amazing as usual– but you gotta do more than that.” Sebastian holds your hand as he pulls you into the crowd of other low-level actors, people who could risk showing up, really, and you fix your dress, a black one with a low square neckline. “Look into Vault-Tec– I’ve been telling Cooper here about how our futures are totally going to be surrounded by their products, even though that fucker does not want to listen.”
Cooper’s lounging in a low sofa in the pit of this living room, holding a crystal glass full of amber liquid, black button up shirt half open– he looks dishevelled, hair slightly askew, jaw off-kilter as he presses his tongue into his cheek, thinking. Lost by something, but still put together as celebrities are. Geez, you really need to temper your attraction to him.
It doesn’t help how he looks at you, either– there’s something deep and reverent about his gaze, like he wants to believe whatever he sees when he’s looking at you– but you have no idea if it’s real, or if it’s just an act like with most of these celebrities.
You used to see him a lot more frequently too, over the last few months. Either at set, or at more fancy parties– most of which he’s been perfectly pleasant and kind to you.
“Of course you’d label me as some fucking chairman for them, Seabass.” Cooper slams back half a pint of whisky, and pours himself some more. “Hey, Nuka-Cola.”
“Hey, Mr. Howard.” You smile gently. You’ve heard about his divorce– everyone has, but you’re not 100% sure why it’s happened, why now when things seemed to be going so well for him.
Well is relative, though. You know loads of actors have decried him privately– no one wants to hang out with the man promoting the end of the world, apparently. It must be a tough thing to only be hired for your wife’s advertisements– and even then, you don’t exactly agree with what they’re marketing, either.
You don’t feel so strongly against Cooper, though. Maybe because you do like him– but also because you know what it’s like to have your image connected to something you don’t really promote. Nuka-Cola isn’t healthy, it’s got enough sugar to induce instant death when drank regularly. But you do it for the connections, the money– and you’re sure Cooper did too.
“Cooper is fine.” He grumbles, and you remember his last name is maybe a sore subject right now.
“Sorry.” You do your best to be delicate as you sit next to him, and Sebastian sits on the other side of you. “How’re you, Cooper?”
“Not bad. If you count being divorced as being alright.” He sighs, and you feel terrible that you even asked. “It’s like I never knew her, man– I thought Barb was different. Or they changed her, I don’t fucking know.”
“She had her eyes set on the prize. As did you, Coop.” Sebastian states, and Cooper turns, affronted.
“We’re all interested in money and glory, Seabass. Fuck you if you think otherwise.” Cooper tenses, and you feel a bit awkward listening in on this conversation.
“What did I say that negates that? I’m as money hungry as they come.” Sebastian shrugs. “I only meant that– despite it all, making money was what you had in common, evidently not the world-going-nuclear shit. Maybe you’ve got a heart of gold, a change of mind, I don’t know, Cooper. But throwing away an easy life just to pay alimony must be fucking awful, so I just don’t think you’re in it for the money anymore.”
“You’re fucking telling me.” Cooper sniggers. “I don’t think Barb cares. I’m here with no career, and she’s out there getting promoted in Vault-Tec. As for the heart of gold… any former marine would’ve been against that shit.”
You want to ask what shit, but you don’t want to overstep your boundaries. You get the general fear of nuclear war– but Cooper sounds more personally affected by it.
Cooper glances over at you. “What do you think? Better to be richer than you can spend in a lifetime, or to be out with a good conscience?” 
“I don’t know if I’m that interested in money.” You say honestly, and Cooper raises his eyebrows.   
“Really? Nuka-Cola’s a saint, huh.” He chuckles– he’s clearly a bit buzzed.
“No, I’m not. Of course I want to have a career.” You think about this carefully, so it doesn’t sound insincere. “Making money is nice– but I don’t think I have the right to say it should come at the cost of human lives. You know Nuka-Cola is terrible for you, right? ”
Cooper stares at you for a moment too long, and then looks away. “Yeah… addicting.”
He’s definitely not talking about Cola, but you continue on. “Yeah, so just in that way– I disagree with how much power marketing has. We’ve convinced America that they need this– just so some chairman can make an extra dollar.”
Cooper looks at you, renewed by whatever you just said. “Hell, woman after my own heart. That’s damn true.”
“Yes, yes, you two oblivious flirts– there’s no art in filmmaking anymore, just commercialism. Not like it hasn’t been the case for a century.” Sebastian chimes in, and you bite your lip, pretending not to notice how Cooper’s face is smirking bashfully. “But, babe. You’re going to want to make your money before the world fucking ends.”
“What’s that?” You startle, and Cooper laughs sardonically at your surprise, while Sebastian gets up.
“Let me get myself a drink– I hardly want to tell this story sober.” He leaves, and Cooper has half a heart to glare at him– he knows Sebastian is leaving the two of you alone so he can do the dirty work.
Not like his reputation can ever get better, especially by telling this story again with it’s lurid details, but at least it doesn't hurt that he's with you. 
“What does he mean by that, Mr. Howard?” You wince at your use of that. “Sorry– I meant Cooper.”
“Ah, call me what you’d like.” Cooper takes another sip of his drink, leaning back in the couch to the point where he is practically lying down and against you. “It sounds good coming out of your mouth no matter what you pick, Nuka-Cola.”
Now that’s a suggestive, loaded line, and you feel a little more comfortable flirting with him even if it’s a bit of a rebound for him. The end of the world is approaching, right?
“The end of the world?” You prod at him, and he sighs, leaning against your shoulder. 
“It’s fucking ridiculous, what it is… probably never going to happen anytime soon.” Cooper’s tone of voice is hazy as he examines his last sip of whisky in the glass. “No, no. Just something those fucking commies put in my head. I guess they’re not really commies, are they?”
“Unless you elaborate, I can’t say.” You utter back at him, and he pushes down a smile.
“Alright. Vault-Tec’s been selling this nuclear protective stuff, right?” He says, and you nod, your cheek brushing against the top of his hair. “All I can say is that a few… radicals, if you will, think that Vault-Tec might actually be more involved with it than they say. Like, they might be…”
“Not just protective, huh? More offensive? Everyone’s got that feeling, Mr. Howard. And that doesn't sound like a particularly commie-train-of-thought to me.” You hear the sorrow in his tone, even if he’s trying to make it sound like a rumour. “Did you hear this from your ex-wife?”
Cooper winces here. He still feels slightly guilty about spying on her. A part of him thinks they might’ve not divorced if he hadn’t found out– but he knows he was bound to find out eventually, and he would’ve just delayed the inevitable.
“Maybe, Cola. Maybe you’re just sharp.” He whispers, and you smile and he feels it– your skin is intoxicatingly close right now.
“So, odds are?” You ask, just curious, and he exhales.
“Bad. I have to agree with them.” He admits, and it feels exhilarating to admit this– that Vault-Tec is gonna nuke the world at some point, that the radicals are more like minded to him than he’s wanted to believe in the past. “Even if it didn’t cost my movies, I regret partaking in what they were selling.”
That’s a big thing for him to say– you know Cooper loves acting, he absolutely adores playing a hardened sheriff, the last vestige of goodness in the wild, wild west. All the times you’ve visited him on his set– probably during his last contractual movie, now that you think about it– and he was always so excited to show off the architecture and intricacies of the fictional western town they’d set up, share script details and little character quirks so you could have an insider’s viewpoint. He even donned his cowboy hat on you, saying you wore it like a natural.
He loved being the hero, really.
He lights a cigarette, and takes a puff.
“Most big-name connections refuse to talk to me because of this stuff– I’ve basically been dropped out of phonebooks all together. They think I’m still in on it, they think I’ve only stopped because of backlash–” He stops as you begin to scratch his scalp, still leaning against your shoulder, but getting progressively into your neck area.
Jesus, that feels good. He thinks. He hasn’t been intimate in a while– Barb became increasingly more cold to him over the last few months, as their marriage kept falling apart.
“Backlash, really?” You whisper. 
“Yeah.” He stutters for just a moment, because your eyes are peering into his, and for a moment he thinks you could really make it as just a bombshell if you wanted to– then he takes another puff. “When really, I was just backing out of what I thought was really a massive crime against humanity.”
“Are you only telling me this to validate your poor conscience? Remedy that reputation a little?” You ask, and he presses his lips together. 
“Well, I'll be honest, yeah. Of fucking course I'd tell the one woman who seems to be like me on this.” He sounds so certain of you, sounds so sure that you're on his side.
And you absolutely are.
“The world’s about to end, Mr. Howard. You're not a bad man for not wanting to support it. I'm inclined to agree.” You inhale deeply, and Cooper stares at you– something stirs inside him as he does. 
“Kiss me, then. Humour me– since none of this will matter soon.” Cooper murmurs, lying on top of your chest now, the smoke from his cigarette enveloping your face.
He’s so close you barely have to move to oblige to what he’s said– you're second guessing yourself for just a moment, because it feels like a dream that he'd ask you to do this, so out of the blue, such a picture perfect fantasy that you almost don't care about the impending doom, and you press your lips gently to his in an upside-down kiss, his hair brushing against your open cleavage, but Cooper is insistent and leans upward, kissing you with such intensity that your head is spinning afterwards.
God, now that's a movie star kiss. You think.
He kisses you again as Sebastian returns, drink in hand.
“Oi! You two. Jesus Christ, can't keep your hands off each other, can you?” Sebastian pretends to vomit. “C’mon, if I want to talk to you at my party, I should have that right.”
You attempt to pull away– but Cooper, being a little mischevious, perhaps wanting to show off in a way he hasn’t been able to, sits up right and kisses you again, this time normally, just very slowly and passionately though, slithering an arm around your waist in a way that has Sebastian rolling his eyes. 
“Okay, present.” He says, not pulling his arm off your waist. 
“Thanks.” Sebastian shakes his head. “I was thinking we should take the mood off with some party games…”
/
It's about 2 AM when you've finally left the party. Cooper didn't want to let you go– he's crashing at an apartment for the time being, but you really don't want to waste yourself on being his rebound, if he really likes you.
You tell him as much, and he likes that– you really are rather sharp about things. 
“Well. Gimme a call when you realize I'm not kidding around with you.” He says unabashedly, holding your hand, kissing it as you leave.
You’re absolutely sure he's drunk, and he's being a little too clingy– but you want to believe him anyways. 
You walk back to your car, alone. Thinking about if Cooper is worth the damage it could have on your potential career. But then again– the end of the world is coming, right?
So maybe it won’t matter. And you find that you like this, the secret potential of this option, just hanging out with Cooper in a place that used to be America, no more expectations on you both. There’s also the chance you just both die, though.
You shudder.
You don't notice that there's a man in the backseat of your car when you get in, brandishing a chloroform stained cloth.
/
The Ghoul prods at the body that's just fallen out of the cryo pod.
Oh fuck. 
It's starting to stir, whoever it is, and Coop knows he's ready, if this is really some synthetic android-clone thing, to make their life hell. Get some of his anger out on something that doesn’t matter.
Wait– he recognizes that cherry red fabric. That coiffed hair, frosty after being inside the pod. Oh, Jesus… even the makeup is the same as when he last saw you. 
“Ah… shit.” He chuckles to himself in exasperation, because this is beyond belief. “Nuka-Cola, is that you?”
You tilt yourself to the side, eyes bleary, unable to see clearly. Everything’s dark. But you know that voice, you just heard it a couple of days ago.
“Mr. Howard?” You croak out, and he hisses inwards– nobody has called him that in centuries. Nobody knows who he is… except for you, of course. 
“The one and the same, baby.” He licks the side of his gums, deciding to stick with his identity for now. “Well, maybe a little different. You wouldn't happen to know what a Ghoul is, huh?”
“What?” You don't know how long your vision is going to stay black for, but you don't like the sound of that. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Eyes haven't been opened for… two hundred years. I'll give you some time, Cola.” He sighs; cracks his neck, while you sink back into the floor. “Just imagine the ugliest horror-picture monster you can imagine. Zombie, no nose. That paint a picture for you?”
“...”
“What was that?” Coop can't hear you when your voice is muffled into the tiles of this secret room. He grasps your hair gently, from the root, pulling your head upwards so you'll speak– clearly you don't have the strength to lift up your body. 
“I said, how is that any different from before?” 
“Oh, she's still a jokester.” Coop scoffs– despite himself he snorts– and he lets go of your hair so you land back on the floor with a thump.
“–Ow!” You flinch, and then turn over so you’re on your back. “Still an asshole, huh?”
“Me?” He grins maliciously. Ooh, maybe he can use some misplaced anger on you. “You're the one who didn't call back for several weeks.”
“How could I? You can see I've been trapped in a cryo thing for… however long. Did you say two hundred years?” You flatly ask, and Coop still thinks you're lying.
“Yes, and bullshit. You probably had a couple weeks since I last saw you to call me.” He states, and he doesn’t actually hold a grudge, at least not that much of it in comparison to all the other horrid shit that’s happened to him– he just thinks it's funny to push your buttons after all of that, like looking into a mirror of the past– and you groan.
“No, I didn't. I got in my car after Sebastian's party, and some goon sprayed something in my face, I passed out, and he drove me here.” You start, and you begin frowning in such a way that Coop almost feels bad. 
“Why you, sweetheart?” He shakes his head. “You weren't exactly high up in popularity yet.”
“Exactly. No one would miss me.” You spit out bitterly, remember the end to that night, where you were so unaware of your surroundings, and terrified of being assaulted as you were pushed around into this room, blindfolded.
“Adrian fucking Amos, the fucking Second, thought it would be great if I just became his permanent doll during the apocalypse.” You swallow, and Coop sits down next to you, to listen more clearly. You shift towards his body heat– and to his surprise, he still likes that. “See, his daddy has shares in Vault-Tec, so he decided before nuclear fallout happened, he wanted a guaranteed sex slave from his favourite advertisements.”
“Nuka-Cola.” Coop utters with the slowest drawl, concluding your statement– and you like that.
“Yeah, Nuka fucking Cola.” You grimace. “Then he undressed me, put me in this little number, and threw me in the pod. I barely remember this shit because I was so out of it.”
“Shame. I always wondered why you never called me back.” Coop circles back to his little grudge– but he also feels bad, feels some level of guilt that neither he nor Sebastian had the sense to look out for you back then, and you were practically assaulted (maybe actually so if you didn't remember). 
“Yeah, because I wanted to miss out on that piece of ass. Sure.” You joke feebly, and Coop laughs despite himself. 
“Honey, you're gonna run away screaming when you finally see me. Don't worry about it.” He shakes his head. “The real world's a lot more fucking difficult than would'ves and could'ves.”
“Okay, explain. If you're willing to owe me that much.” You start, and Coop gets reminded of that fateful night a couple hundred years ago, where he was the one to clue you into the impending nuclear war.
Not even three months later, it was all over, and you were nowhere in sight– if his mind ever did drift to you, the what-ifs and who-knows that still persisted– he would always assume you were dead.
Now he thinks you're just unfinished business. 
“Fine.” He taps your shoulder, and you lean a little closer towards him– you touch his hand, and instead of flinching as many people have in the past– you trace the tough, callused skin there.
He thinks there’s something wrong with you. Why do you seem drawn to him anyways? You’re completely fucking up his tough guy, lone-wolf persona by being here, and he wants you gone. He pulls away his hand, ignoring how your face falls for a moment.
Coop inhales, and then starts. “In October 2077, they nuked America, bombed it all to hell. By they, I think we both know what I’m implying.”
“It wasn’t the Chinese.” You interrupt, and he shushes you.
“Yeah, Cola.” He starts playing with his fingers, feeling like you don’t deserve to be here right now. That you should’ve just stayed dead. “Vault-Tec destroyed it all.”
It’s no good. He’s an old man, and you’re still as soft and young as ever. He’s always haunted by his past, like with Barb and Janey, and then Sebastian’s voice in every single Mr. Handy robot he comes by, and then finally, his last couple memories with you.
“The last two hundred something years have been filled with carnage, death, unspeakable horrors that your pretty little mind could never comprehend.” He grits out, pushing past the past and remembering that this is who he is now– a killer– and you stare at him vacantly, because his tone is so much more serious suddenly. “Nothing is the same. Everyone has blood on their hands, water is a fucking commodity, if you’re not watching out for humans to betray you, hideous creatures like me roam the ground, and that ground? Sands, deserts, barely a hint of green. It’s nothing worth coming back to.”
“So you’re saying I’m in hell.” You suddenly inhale harshly, and Coop ignores the urge to check on you.
The last thing he needs is an extra person to take care of– especially someone who doesn’t know the Wasteland. So it’s better now that he just weans you off and leaves you here.
“Yeah, sweetheart. And I'm the devil.” Coop sucks on his teeth again. “If you had any sense, you’d go back into that fucking freezer until some utopia is born four hundred years from–”
You flinch, and he stops. 
“Oh, God, my eyes–”
The sight comes back slowly then all at once. Light everywhere, overwhelming your senses. 
You blink, tears rolling down your face. 
“Maybe it would’ve been better if you stayed blind, Cola.” He stares at you as you rub your eyes, taking in the state of the room. 
It’s a warning, but you look up at him again anyways. And Coop waits for the utter horror, for the sign that he really has transformed into a monster, so he can hurry up and leave– this entire conversation with you is just him finishing Cooper Howard’s past with a bow. A shiny, Nuka-Cola-red bow.
“...” You swallow, and then bite your lip, tilting your head up at him. “Couldn’t let go of the cowboy identity, huh?”
Coop furrows his non-existent eyebrows, disliking how hard you’re making this, how clever you still seem to be– you also seem way too relaxed with him. He has half a mind to fire a warning shot at you. “Yeah, okay, darlin’. You’re just avoiding facing that horrific, bile-inducing sensation in your throat, aren’t you?”
You shake your head, disagreeing immediately. “You might look– a little less like how I remember you, I guess… but you’re still you. I see it, and apparently so do you.”
How dare you? Coop thinks, how dare you intertwine his two images together so easily when he could never be the same man again, when just seeing an old VHS tape of one of his movies pains him?
“Yeah, no thanks. If this is your way to get me to valet you around, I’m not that man anymore, Nuka-Cola.” He resents the way you think he could still be good– just because his western image brings him a little comfort nowadays. “Not a sheriff anymore.”
Your face drops, but you seem to take that information readily. “Yeah, I figured that based on your outfit, the little blood splatters on your pants… if that’s how the world is, then so be it.”
You’re saying things that on paper should be right– but Coop is getting more and more disgruntled with you, and you feel like you need to separate yourself from him. Yes, tough, because to you it’s been all of forty-eight hours since you kissed him– but you can see, no matter how deep the original Cooper Howard is inside this new Ghoul, you’re not going to be able to bring him out.
You stand up, on shaky, bare feet, and motion for Coop to move out of the way. Independent woman to the end, you are, and you want to get your bearings without him.
Coop internally sighs. He doesn’t believe for one second you’ll survive out there– and he really doesn’t need to spend the time seeing you die, so he turns around, and leaves you here.
/
He never did find Leopold St. West, much to his chagrin– you really, really messed up his day. 
It happens. Sometimes he’ll see Janey in another person’s eyes and freak out, and have to boil it down by murdering random raiders. 
But now Coop is just spiteful. He’s always figured that a lot of what happened to the world was just a bunch of rich people picking and choosing a destiny for themselves to the detriment of everyone else, and now he’s aware that included you, too. To casually be grabbed away by some man, just because he was rich… Coop isn’t unsympathetic to how you ended up, even if he treated you quite poorly. It’s sickening.
Two hundred years of quiet, always-dwelling agony, the first few years out of fear for being alone, and the next few years spent conspiring about what could’ve happened to his family– and then here you are as confirmation of his worst theories.
No wonder he enjoys his casket time.
/
Coop sighs.
Vaultie is hard to keep track of. She got away with murder this time at the organ harvesting clinic– so Coop finds it easier to stop working with her, to move when he wants to.
The Govermint (really just Booker’s shitty gang) was rather easy to dismantle. The two sheriffs that he killed required no expertise on his part.
He’s thinking about the fact that since Moldaver is still alive, and apparently that fucker Hank MacLean, then that means there’s a good chance Barb and Janey are too– perhaps he could go and find them.
It’s an odd urge, though. Everytime he thinks about it, he wonders how he’s actually supposed to connect with them again– they’ve been fractured for so long, and he’s changed, and there’s a good chance neither of them would accept him like this.
But you did, didn’t you? You were on the verge of saying yes, you’d accept him– as if nothing had changed.
Coop grumbles. The big, significant difference is that you were infatuated with him, but Barb divorced him, and Janey was too young to make that choice. He considers that it could be a pipe dream, but he still has hope– for Janey, at least.
He thinks you’re probably dead anyways. He hasn’t seen you in several months, since that day where he unceremoniously woke you up– and he hopes it stays that way.
He's chilling in another small, scrappy area of the wasteland. Nobody bothers the Ghoul, not when he's casually fiddling with his gun and and chewing on a toothpick.
A man runs past him, holding a significantly valuable piece of Brotherhood equipment. Maybe worth thousands of caps if he knows his shit, and he does. That’s a fusion core, and they’re not exactly mass producing those anymore during the apocalypse.
Coop points his gun at him, finger on the trigger, seconds away from creating a bloody mess–
A blade thwacks into the guy’s neck, blood spurting as he falls and chokes. A person– a woman– jumps on his back, her face obscured by a deep green bandana . She yanks out the knife, stabs a few more times for good measure– and Coop knows the game, he’s not surprised he’s not the only one to go after this guy.
He’s pretty good at killing casually, and he barely even moves from where he’s standing, aiming the gun at her.
No way is he letting easy money pass by him.
He’s about to pull the trigger extra-quick when she yanks the bandana down, taking a deep breath as she sweats, and Coop actually misses.
It’s you. You stare up at him from where you’re squatting over the body, and your gaze hardens, furrowed brows, dark lashes, intensely dark pupils. You purse your lips, press them together, jaw set in a stern fashion, recognizing him but refusing to hear him out– and Coop doesn’t know why he’s not firing, but he’s almost… enamoured with how you are now, almost taken aback by your new nature.
Not so taken aback that he doesn’t immediately start firing when you take the fusion core and start running.
And Coop doesn’t want to actually kill you, he just wants to incite some damage. See how far you can take it.
You interweave through random gaps in the metal scraps of this little abode, seeking shelter as you do so, and Coop’s gunfire only ricochets off them with cartoony sounding “pings!”
He manages to graze your left thigh through a small window, and you inhale sharply, stopping as you grit through the pain.
Coop grins to himself. This little cat and mouse chase is what he expected, what was predictable from you– you’re smart enough to stay on the defense, but you would probably never attack him, avoiding him because of your sad feelings of the old times, never resort to carnage unless you needed to–
You shove past the walls where you’ve been roaming, and manage one kick against his stomach and he manages to grab you and restrain you, your back against his front.
You grab his own jacket for purchase, and instead of pulling forward– you push back, landing on top of him with a thud that surely hurts him. Coop clenches his teeth, back against the ground now, but you scramble, straddling him. Hands around his throat, knife pressed against one of his tendons. Not outright strangling him, but just enough pressure that he knows you’re seriously threatening him.
Holy fuck, have you changed. Just like Vaultie, maybe you’re showing your honest self– and Coop supposes it may have been his mistake to underestimate you.
“Got a whole new outfit… I like it.” He admires your new leather jacket, cargo pants around your thighs pushing his arms down, a blouse fashioned out of your old Nuka-Cola dress. Tough combat boots dig into his thighs as you push against him. “Don’t fucking start–” You squeeze a little harder and he groans, the tip of the knife pushing in. “With your on and off, hot and cold bullshit.” 
Ooh, it sounds like you have a little bit of a grudge over how you were treated.
“Get over it, Cola. It was centuries ago, whatever we had.” He spits out, and you have a glint of sadness in your eyes.
He knew you were a little too gushy for your own good– not even he adapted that quickly to the wilderness of the Wasteland. He waits for you to make the mistake, apologize, break down– and then he can take the core and get out of here.
But you’re still firm in your grasp of him, your weight pushing him down, blade against him.
You’re not angry about back then. You’ve come to terms with that.
You’re angry at the state of the world. 
“You know what I fucking hate, Ghoul?” You spit in his face, and he blinks, spittle now on his chin. “You are all so selfish. I got left behind, likely for dead, right, and nobody gives a shit, whatever. But instead of me hoping that the leftover crumbs of society would at least try to be, I don’t fucking know, more hopeful and kind, or at the very least, not be so fucking greedy and transparently trying to be the new party in charge.”
“You’re living in a dream world.” Coop interrupts, and he’s rewarded with you carving a small, little cut on his cheek, a rapid movement you hardly think about, and it causes him to inhale sharply, a drop of blood smearing across his face.
“Oh, no. I’m not asking for everyone to hold hands and play family.” You laugh suddenly, and then somehow lean in closer, and Coop finds that in some fucked up way he enjoys the pressure against him. “It’s bullshit, that kind of image making– you and I both know that. But for all this supposed talk against the rich billionaires who ruined our lives, how are we not just emulating them?”
Coop is actually drawn to silence.
“Maybe you actually got fooled by self-image, Cola.” He murmurs. “Or maybe that’s just people’s true nature.”
You don’t like that answer. You don’t actually want to believe that, but the more you think about it, the more it’s probably true. People lie all the time, but the amount of outrage you’ve heard from people the last few months, bemoaning Vault-Tec and all those rich fuckers, you were inclined to believe they wouldn’t act the exact same way.
Just at a different level. Power corrupts all, you guess.
You loosen your grasp a little. “Thank you.”
It’s honest, and Coop doesn’t like how much he does like your nature of trusting him– how even as this new, terrible version of yourself, you still trust him, and you still ask for his advice.
He doesn’t know what to make of this, but he thinks maybe he can get some use out of you yet.
Coop wrangles his arm from out under your thigh, where you’ve accidentally let a gap through, and shoves you over.
You fall with a gasp, hitting the ground, and he stands up and kicks you for good measure, while you screech in pain. 
Coop picks you up by your throat, and you instantly move to fighting– your blade against his stomach, teeth gritted in resolute urge to kill– but he’s got his pistol at your neck, and the way he brushes it against you is almost like a lover’s embrace.
“One thing I hate is a fucking liar, Cola.” He grumbles, and you glare at him. “You’re not some innocent– why else do you got a fusion core in your pocket?”
“I never claimed I was a good woman.” You shake your head. “I just wonder why the Brotherhood, the Enclave, hell, even some of the Raiders… everyone wants the ultimate piece of the pie.”
“Besides, you’re the one who kept saying to survive out here I’d have to be a killer.” You remind him, and he looks down at you, thinking. “The world’s grieving– I don’t blame it for that, I feel the same way.”
You’ve still got a way with words, he thinks, and he was right. He can use you for his benefit.
“Say, Nuka-Cola. Why don’t we take some of those fuckers down?” He stills. “Not randoms. The power-hungry pie-eaters, like how you so eloquently put it.”
You don’t fully trust him again, but you’re into the prospect. You don’t want power, and you know he doesn’t either, but it’s not just looting. No, no, this is something akin to revenge.
“Alright.” You whisper.
“Alright. Okay, I won’t shoot if you don’t cut me.” He speaks softly, slowly, trying to cajole you out of attacking– and you move as he does. 
The threatening air of before is gone now, and the Ghoul has only a odd stare for you, something that makes you feel watched, almost reminding you of two centuries ago. It could be that he doesn’t trust you either– and so you walk onward with a gap between you two, heading to wherever a faction that needs fucking up could be.
/
Coop strolls inside the makeshift bar as you make conversation, staying within the shadows. It’s not on official Enclave grounds, it’s simply a nearby bar where members have been known to hang out. 
He doesn’t exactly mind being the one to pick up the slack of killing people– he can tell you’re good at charming people what with your former bombshell acting techniques, your silly, soft blinks, the way how your skin still looks smooth and untouched.
Was it all a lie with him? Aw, shit, why does he care? He really doesn’t have time to wonder if he’s been manipulated by you– he won’t be manipulated by you now, when he gets rid of many the people who represents obstacles in his way to finding still-existing Vault-Tec members.
Yes, that’s all this is to him. Another step to finding Moldaver, Henry MacLean, then his family if he’s lucky. And you’ll get some rage out of it, so he doesn’t even consider this to be that bad of an evasion of his. 
You laugh at something the knight next to you says. Coop catches a bit of it, of him asking how you look under that big jacket– and you mentioning you’d like to see him without that government get-up, too.
He grits his teeth. He’s not fucking in love with you, or anything stupidly juvenile like that– but he definitely felt something before when the two of you were fighting, or when you had conversations during the long, arduous talk here– you bit into a piece of his jerky when he offered it, and he laughed in surprise that you didn’t spit it out after he revealed it was feral ghoul ass jerky.
He also found that his gaze kept being drawn to you, too. You kept up with him, you were capable of hunting and searching on your own, you took lives when the need arose, and you had his back, even if he didn’t ask for it.
You made him subconsciously draw from the past, reminiscing about a time with you and a future he never thought he’d revisit. And now he can’t ignore that, so he needs to let off some steam.
There’s a splatter of blood across your face as the guy in front of you splutters, a bullet hole shot through his forehead. Little pieces of flesh hit the bar counter as he falls, and you gasp.
Coop is kind of quick with it now– he fires off, and because these “politicians” are unprepared, he’s able to kill off more than half.
You get over your shock quickly and fire your own tiny pistol at random, managing a few kills, but the Ghoul takes the last one and looks back at you, with an intrepid glance that you can’t figure out.
“What the hell was that?” You call out, and he doesn’t respond, instead beginning to pilfer the bodies, looking for shit to take. “Hey, Ghoul…”
“We came here to kill off those guys.” He answers you, but it’s not really an answer.
“Yeah, but I thought we agreed on discussing this shit as we were doing it. What happened to signalling?” You approach him, and as you get close enough, he turns around and stares unnervingly into your eyes.
“I did signal, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, lying through his teeth. 
“Bullshit.”
“No, I did.” He points at you. “It’s not my fault that you were too busy schmoozing and flirting to notice.”
“Wow.” You laugh exasperatedly at his antics, while he tilts his head. “You’re really obtuse, you know?”
“Nah. I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You’re gonna say you’re not jealous–” At that word, the Ghoul snarls, ready to tell you exactly how little he cares for you, and you motion for him to zip it. “But at the very instance of seeing me flirt, mind you, in the most fake way possible, you lost it. You can’t even tell the difference between my genuine flirting and the fakest, schlockiest shit?”
“...” Coop frowns, because you’re right– he did kind of let his mind go wild over nothing in particular. 
Even worse, it means he’s made it apparent to you that he still harbours some feelings for your long-ago relationship. And that’s definitely a potential weakness– he does not want you to believe you can just work him around.
“Fuck you.” He spits, and instead of your face flinching in hurt, you stay neutral.
“I know you think you can come close and then shove me off every once in a while, because you’re fucking terrified of what it means that you’re not as hard as you pretended to be, that you still have a bit of human emotion inside you.” You tiptoe up to his face so he can’t avoid you. “I don’t care. That’s your problem.”
You turn to leave, to continue looting the bodies– and Coop’s hand wraps around your wrist. 
He hates what you’ve said, because it’s absolutely provoking the worst issue he has– he can never just let go. Two hundred years of this has made him a different creature altogether, spiteful; evil, but Coop knows as well as anyone that his transformation doesn’t negate his original nature, buried deep down.
It was a lie on his part– people are not as evil as he made them out to be, it’s the cycle of this situation that perpetuates that shit. Violence begets violence and all that. He can’t seem to say this to you, though, because he can tell you already probably knew that.
What is this fuckery, that you’re able to generate such a sense of guilt in him?
“Show it to me again. Genuine flirting.” he says instead, and he knows it’s stupid as hell to say something like this. “It’s been hundreds of years, you can’t expect me to fuckin’ remem…”
You grasp his arm back, making him quiet.
He’s half expecting you to punch him, but you see something you like– something that finally satisfies you, and you kiss his cheek, where you cut him much earlier in the day. It’s a soft bruise, mostly healed over in the way ghouls heal– but it’s overwhelmingly, embarrassingly hot there now as you pull away.
“I won’t forget the difference next time, Nuka-Cola.” He tips his hat at you in a mockery of his acting as a dashing cowboy once upon a time.
“Won’t be a next time.” You shrug. “I would hate to have to flirt with someone again just to get you to notice me.”
This severely bothers him, like you haven’t been an annoyance in his mind this whole time. And then he wonders if you’re an idiot, like you have no idea the effect you had on him back then, and even now. Hell, even that overly-chaste kiss has him remembering how he felt at Sebastian’s party when you humoured him the first time.
Do you think the only thing he’s burying is some empathy for the human race?
He can’t just let you be this wrong about this, no fucking way. And it’s with this in mind that the Ghoul feels his reserve melt as he tightly grabs your face and kisses you. Not a soft, movie-star kiss of the past, but one more hungry, his lips swallowing yours, pressed sternly, firmly, like he’s not gonna let you go. He parts his mouth ever so slightly, trying to catch a reaction from you.
You’re caught off guard, and he’s glad. He likes that you don’t know what to do with yourself, that for once you’re floundering rather than him, and you barely remember to kiss back until a couple seconds later when your hands grasp the base of his skull. You’re tracing grooves, calluses, skin that’s been eroded by his ghoulishness. You feel like he tastes ever so acidic– perhaps from the radiation emitting from his body– but some weird part of you loves it, and you part your lips as you kiss him harder, wanting to feel his tongue.
Your lips are just as soft as he remembers– but there’s more excitement now, more of an urgency as you kiss him, so he takes your invitation and swirls his tongue around on yours, disgustingly vulgar and perversely fast, yet lingering to enjoy the sensation, and he kinda loves being a corrupting force, being the ghoul who eats up this sweet human girl, and he tightens his grip– it almost hurts you, how tightly his hands weave around your waist suddenly– and then before you know it, he pulls away.
He wipes his mouth, never taking his eyes off of you.
“So. Did I taste like Nuka-Cola?” You joke, and he laughs in your face.
“Nope. Darlin, you haven’t been the Nuka-Cola girl for hundreds of years. They replaced you not long after you vanished.” He smiles widely at how your face drops. “I can show you some of the new girl’s billboards, if you’d like.”
“That would explain the lack of revenue.” You raise your eyebrows. “Then why do you still call me Nuka-Cola, Cola, etcetera?”
“That’s how I remember you.” It sounds too sweet, too nice that he keeps your nickname on tabs, so he twists his lips in a sneer. “Plus I don’t remember your name.”
“Oh.” You bite your lip, finding his insult more funny than anything else, and turn around to take items from the bodies around you. “Okay, Mr. Howard.”
It was the optimal moment for you to joke back, calling him the Ghoul, but in classic you-fashion, you decided to extend an olive branch to him– reminding him that he’ll never just be the Ghoul to you. And even if Coop knows he’ll always remember you by Nuka-Cola, he has a fondness for you that he doesn’t neglect anymore– and he murmurs your name so softly, but just enough that you turn back and look at him, and smile with pleased recognition. 
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nathaslosthershit · 2 days
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Long Distance (LN4)
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Summary: Long distance relationships are hard, especially when they both have very time consuming careers
Warnings; Angst (a whole lot), no happy ending in this part (will happen in pt 2)
Request: hi!! requesting a lando norris x female uni!reader if possible reader being a medical student or a one of the engineers on the paddock 🧍🏻‍♀️
Lando wasn’t known for being the smartest on the grid. He, like many other drivers, had only a few years of school to his name. But that still hadn’t stopped him from being able to somehow ‘woo’ a woman quite the opposite. 
His girlfriend was currently in her last year of medical school. While he was unbelievably proud of how far she had come, the difficulties of long distance have gotten to both of them, and there wasn’t much hope once she graduated and was off to a medical training program. With her studying for finals and Lando being off to a new country every two weeks for Grand Prixs, their relationship has been rocky to say the least.
Constant lack of communication and missing each other's calls had led them to have tons of unspoken dialogue. Each unanswered call created the smallest bit of resentment that just continued to grow and grow. 
No more sweet ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, no more wishing her well before a big test, no more sending ‘good luck baby!’ before qualifying. Just a few ‘how are you doing?’ and other bland messages you’d send to a coworker, not your significant other. 
After weeks of little communication, they had finally scheduled a ‘zoom date’. Not particularly the most romantic date they had been on, but it's the best they could do with their schedules. Lando called in late at night for him while his girlfriend had a lunch break in between labs. Time zones be damned.
Lando was 25 minutes late leaving only 35 minutes to actually talk to one another.
Her wifi was spotty so it kept freezing.
Finally, with only 5 minutes left, Lando decided to make a joke that there is no reason for her to continue going to labs, as he would be happy to be her ‘sugar daddy’. This was not very well received by his girlfriend, who responded with a quick “fuck you” and hung up early.
Lando was joking, a bit. He loved his girlfriend and saw a future with her, he just couldn’t stand long distance and any job in the medical field was bound to take up most of your time. He wanted her, but he also wanted someone who could be by his side on race day. That just wasn’t something that was possibly currently. 
He supported her. He loved to brag about how smart she was and how she was so dedicated to helping people. But that came with setbacks.
After a quick message from Lando (‘I was kidding darling. You know how proud I am of you. Lighten up a little, yeah?’), which she ignored, she was off to her labs in a worse mood than before. Things couldn’t go on like this. 
He hadn’t heard from her in three days. His “how are you, love?” and “Miss you lots. Hope your class is going better than my neck training :(“ went unanswered. She knew she was being petty, but maybe a relationship was just too hard for her life currently. 
After three long and stressful days of silence, she called him. With no message asking what she needed to speak about, Lando feared he already knew.
“We can’t keep doing this” She said after they quickly exchanged a ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I'm good, how are you?’. 
“Baby, I told you it was just a-”
“I know that Lando! It's just that this isn’t the first time you have mentioned me quitting my career to be your housewife or whatever unrealistic idea you have stuck in your head.”
“I don’t need you to be a housewife! I don’t want that for you. I just try to let you know that you don’t need to worry about your future as much because I will always be there to help you.”
“But I want a career! I want to work hard so I can have a good future. You need to get it into your head that your career isn’t the only important one.”
“I don’t think that! Me wanting to let you know that I support you no matter what isn't diminishing your career plans! It would be nice if you started to show a little more support. I am so sick and tired of all our conversations revolving around you and how your day was. If classes are rough, or you are stressed, you don’t respond to me. I never know where I land with you. But god forbid I try to mention how hard my day was. I am just as sick of it.”
She didn’t know how to respond. It seems that all the times she has been more focused on how she was feeling she completely forgot to check on how he was doing. Before she can even muster out an apology, Lando jumps back in.
“Maybe you are right. I don’t think I can do this either. Not anymore.” He feels his stomach dropping as he says the words, not fully meaning them.
There is a long silence, moments where she wants to apologize, to try and reconcile. In that moment all of the good memories of their relationship come flashing back to her, as if her mind is begging her to do something. But she doesn’t. 
“Then I guess this is it.” She finally says. 
“I guess so.”
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rafeandonlyrafe · 16 hours
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bound and bruised
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words: 1.5k
warnings: 18+ only, NONCON!!!!, r*pe, male receiving oral, choking, p in v sex, unwilling sex, kidnapping, blacking out, loss of virginity, dead dove do not eat (PLEASE heed the warnings)
“stop fucking screaming.” rafe grunts out as you look up at him with tear stained cheeks.
“my knees!” you sob out. only moments ago rafe had shoved you down, bruising and scraping your knees against the rough flooring. you're sure they're going to be bruised by tomorrow.
“i don't care, bitch.” rafe says, gently slapping you on the cheek, more of a pat to get your attention back on him.
“you're being so mean.” you try to stand up, but rafes rough hand on your shoulder pushes you back down.
“stop trying to get away. you know you can't outrun me so you might as well just do as i say.”
“and what is it you want me to do?” you cross your arms as you glare up at rafe.
“easy.” he huffs out. “you're going to suck my dick.”
“your- your what?” you squeal, eyes widening when rafe reaches to his shorts, swiftly undoing the zipper and button, pulling the two sides of the flap open, but not pushing them down his hips yet.
“you heard me.” rafe smirks down at you, at the look on your face, one of confusion, verging on terror. “now im gonna take my dick out. and you're going to lick it.”
you try one more time to stand up, to flee and get away, but rafe is too strong, easily keeping you on your knees with one hand while the other frees himself from the confines of his clothes, kicking his shorts off before the underwear are also tugged down.
your eyes widen when you come face to face with rafes cock, hard and standing away from his body, much bigger than you could have imagined, but it fits his tall frame.
“i don't want to do this, rafe.” you whine. you've never sucked dick before, and you certainly don't want your first time to be with a guy you barely talk to.
“too bad. now lick it, it's for your own good.”
“what does that mean?” you question, but rafe doesn't respond, moving his hand to grip the hair at the back of your head as he pushes you forward.
your nose bumps his cock as you try to swivel your head out of the way, replaying rafes words in your head. 
you stick your tongue out, taking a cautious lick against his length. you make a face, spitting onto the ground. “this is gross, rafe!”
“you have about five seconds to start licking before i just shove my whole cock down your throat. go.”
you know rafes threat isn't an idle one, so you push away the oddly salty taste as you begin to lick, focusing just on the mid shaft, ignoring the pulsing head of his cock for as long as you can.
“put it in your mouth, come on. you gotta get it real wet.” rafe encourages you.
“for what?”
“suck me first and then you'll find out.” rafe says, guiding your head to the head of his cock.
you part your lips, placing them around the head of his cock, feeling the weight against your tongue as you suck slightly, not sure what you're supposed to be doing.
“shit- that's good. just be careful for your teeth. if you bite me, you'll regret it.”
you have no plans of biting rafe as your tongue flicks over his slit, finding the taste slightly more bearable now that you've gotten used to it.
“that's it, good girl.” rafe says, even though the only reason you take more of his cock in your mouth is his hand pushing your head down.
“cover it in spit baby, you'll be grateful when i fuck you.”
your eyes widen and you try to pull off. no way you're letting rafe fuck you and losing your virginity like this.
“oh, no you don't.” rafe warns, pushing his hips forward to bury his cock down your throat as you gag aggressively around him, more tears pooling down your cheeks.
rafe pulls you off after a moment as you sputter, coughing aggressively to get the tickle out of your throat.
“get up. im gonna fuck you now.”
“no!” you squeal. you really should know better by now. should just lay back and let rafe do whatever he wishes, but you still fight him and try to get away.
rafe tugs you up by your hair, your scalp burning as he pushes you against the daybed, warm from the sun shining down on it, comfortable and soft in sharp contrast to how rafe is treating you.
“now let's see if you got my dick wet enough for this not to hurt.” rafe makes quick and easy work of your clothing, flipping the bottom of your dress up and literally tearing away your underwear as you cry out, skin burning from the fabric.
“it'll be better for you if you relax.” rafe says, spreading your legs open for him, looking down at both your holes as your ass spreads for him, but even he isn't going to take it that far as his cock presses against your pussy.
you're not wet in the slightest, and despite the spit, it still burns as rafe pushes inside as you cry out, gripping onto the daybed, grabbing a pillow and tossing it back at rafe, who easily swats it away.
“don't piss me off or i wont give you any time to adjust.” he warns.
you manage to relax slightly, enough for rafe to push all the way inside as he sits for a moment with his cock buried in your cunt, the virginity you were planning on losing on your wedding night now ripped away from you.
“shit, you're fucking tight.” rafe moans. “next time i fuck you ill get you wet too. i bet if i lick your pussy you'll get soaked for me.”,
“you're not gonna fuck me again.” you growl out.
“i will. i own you now. your pussy is mine, baby.” rafe makes his point by pulling out then pushing his cock in with a hard, punishing thrust.
your defiant words are lost on your tongue as he moves, thrusting into you with a tight hold on your hips, keeping your ass in the air.
rafes moans and growls are loud and unafraid of the neighbors hearing, like him fucking a girl on his back patio is a regular enough occurance for them to not look.
you try to keep breathing, try to keep your cunt relaxed as his cock pushes in and out, your wetness slowly increasing from the stimulation.
“you like this, huh?” rafe smirks, hands moving to grip your ass, leaving red marks from his fingers as he squeezes at your plump flesh.
“it-it feels good.” you admit with shame, red flaring over your cheeks. no point in lying when rafe can literally feel the way your body is responding.
“and i haven't even touched your clit yet.” rafe chuckles. “you'll gush, baby.”
despite his words, rafe makes no movement for your clit. right now isn't about your pleasure as he pulls your body back onto his cock to meet his already hard thrusts.
“don't… don't cum inside of me. please.” you plead out, chest rubbing against the daybed as he moves you, nipples hard even through the multiple layers of fabric and padded bra.
“where should i cum then?”
“anywhere. my ass, my mouth-”
“ill go for mouth. but get on birth control because im gonna flood your pussy next time.” rafe continues thrusting until you feel his cock swell inside of you.
he pulls out suddenly, flipping you over onto your back. you only have a second to take a quick breath before rafe is kneeling over you, shoving his cock between your lips as his hand strokes his base.
the second your lips close around his head, he's cumming, filling your mouth with the salty taste as you swallow it down, somehow seeming more pleasing than trying to spit it all out.
“that's a good girl.” rafe pats your cheek before turning to splay out next to you on the day bed as your chest heaves, pussy feeling stretched and sensitive.
“you wanna cum?” rafe asks. “i can rub your clit.”
“i don't want you to touch me ever again.” you say, adrenaline wearing off as tears form in your eyes once again.
“i wish you wouldn't say that type of thing, baby.” rafe frowns, reaching over to wrap his strong hand around your neck. your body flails as you try to hold onto the last bit of oxygen, but ultimately you give out, vision going black.
you wake up much later. you're not sure how long, but it's been multiple hours, your throat is dry from lack of water and rafe choking you until you blacked out.
“see what happens if you misbehave?” rafe asks as your head snaps to look at him, not even realizing he was in the room.
you look down at your wrist, handcuff wrapped around it, connected to a chain, which is secured to the very bed you're sitting on.
“now.” rafe smiles wickedly, moving to the edge of the bed. “about touching your clit…”
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Sins Of The Father, Fuck The Daughter - Lewis Hamilton
Switching Team pt 3
Dark fic - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Warnings/themes: Age gap, smut , coercion, manipulation, corruption/innocence kinks, gaslighting, parental intervention, baby trapping, revenge
@omgsuperstarg is being massively credited bc she has helped inspire so many ideas w this series so have to give a shout out.
One more part after this and then we're calling it on the series.
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Another race weekend. Another endless train of clips seeing his very recently wrecked daughter dripping in red.
The whole world has noted that y/n always seems to have swollen lips, from whatever activity herself and Lewis were enjoying before arriving. Her red dresses practically uniform and this week came with an addition of all red Louboutins and a gust of wind did give some of the paddock a peak at what is better described as red string under her dress rather than anything that could be described as underwear
The media has tried it's best not to dwell too much on the matter but the transformation of the quiet and shy girl who seem to definite the innocence of wearing white has now been touched by Lewis and seems to be transformed. Hardly recognisable as the same person.
"Toto, we know that you have seemed to have lost two people to supporting red. How are you feeling about y/n's new relationship?" The reporter asks with a smile jumping at the opportunity to get Toto's opinion since everyone knows of his and Lewis' feud.
"I think I will have to console my daughter when she comes to her senses and sees Lewis is only corrupting her to hurt me. Which I think is quite poor form from someone like Lewis. Perhaps Fred can get his driver under control." Toto states making somewhat of a joke at the end, though even picks up on the tone and suggestion behind it.
"Fred?"
"I imagine Toto has more control over his daughter than I do over Lewis. It is my job to handle my drivers as drivers, not to monitor their personal lives." Fred shrugs earning a slight glare from the Mercedes team principal. "We are here to race."
"You should try reminding your driver of that when he's flaunting my daughter around like a possession." Toto grumbles earning a very obvious side eye from the Frenchman.
-
Y/n feels Lewis' hand clap over her mouth as his other hand pushes down on her stomach, forcing the bulge almost up into her other organs with the sensation of pain merging with pleasure and earning a muffled but still audible moan as she milks ever drop of cum from him.
Lewis has decided that he won't be fully satisfied about having successfully taken y/n from Toto until she's got his child. Though he might have to ease up on bruising her insides at that point, he's almost certain her tummy does actually have a small bruise from his dick.
Seeing her in all red actually brings out some primary instinct to fuck her till she's walking like the memory of his dick being in her is permanently there.
He'd had a conversation with Fred and then he saw the press conference and he decided that if Toto was so eager to see his daughter then he'd see it be done.
"That's a lot." Y/n mumbles commenting on the feeling of his cum flood out of her. "You want me to not wipe it?"
"No. We're going to see your dad."
"I really don't want to." Y/n mumbles then wincing when two fingers press into her before he removes them and raises his fingers to her races.
"Clean up." Lewis instructs making her look as his other hand squeezes her thigh in warning.
Y/n swallows before holding his hand to put his fingers in her mouth licking his fingers clean of the salty cum.
"Come on. We're going to see your dad and Susie."
"But-"
"Y/n." Lewis cuts in his short temper being a result of Toto's comments and the hurt expression on y/n's face makes him realise that he maybe needs to remember that she might be his daughter but she's an innocent in this matter. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but we don't have time and you know I like-"
"I know. But I don't even want to speak to my dad...I don't understand why you're pushing for it." Y/n mumbles with a pout.
"Because he wants to see you and he's blaming me stopping you as the reason why you won't." Lewis states earning a small nod. "You don't have to speak to him for long."
"Can't you just do the talking?" Y/n sighs earning a small smile of amusement.
"You have to say something, but I'll talk to him as well." Lewis assures her while helping her stand up. "Good?"
"Yeah."
They walk through the paddock moving to the Mercedes unit where Toto is actually sitting outside with Susie and Jack.
Despite their relation, Jack doesn't know much of his sister. By the time he came alone she'd long since been left in isolation and the two are anything but close.
"Why don't you go find George, Jack?" Susie asks, not wanting to leave but also not feeling Jack should be involved in the conversation. Thankfully he rushes off eager to speak to George since he admires the lanky Brit a lot.
"Y/n, how have you been?" Toto asks as Lewis pulls out a chair for her and tucks it in. "I didn't know you had such a love for the colour red."
"Toto." Susie scolds as Lewis sits down looking fairly smug.
"I'm here because Lewis asked it of me, if you intend to be disrespectful we can leave." Y/n states crossing her arms and frowning at him. "I didn't ask for this you know."
"Well if Lewis would stop using you-"
"Enough, Toto." Susie cuts in sharply.
Y/n swallows since Susie has always defended her but it's complicated between them.
"Lewis, whether your intentions were motivated by revenge on Toto or genuine feelings for y/n. You clearly have made her happy and that is what is important." Susie smiles looking at y/n. "Are you happy?"
"Yes."
"Then that's all that matters." Susie assures her then linking her hand with Toto's. "Your dad won't be making anymore public comments about it."
Toto makes no verbal confirmation, too busy trying to stare Lewis down but the driver is unwavering.
"I'm glad we all had this talk, it's been important. Y/n and I have to go, things to do. Come on, y/n."
The two leave though Toto and Susie both notice the bodily fluid that's now leaked low enough to be visible and if you glimpse you'll spot it.
"He is doing it on purpose. He is trying to provoke a reaction-Susie, you cannot expect him to allow this." Toto hisses to his wife. "He treats her like property and with no respect. How can you be ok with it?"
"Y/n is an adult. We have to let her make her own mistakes to learn her own consequences." Susie sighs then smiling at him. "We can only hope the consequences don't come in a form that she regrets in the long term."
-
Y/n watches Lewis talking to his engineers, ready to get the car out onto the grid.
There's been an off feeling since her and Lewis left that very short and uncomfortable meeting with her parents. She appreciates Susie's efforts but it's fairly obvious where Toto's feelings lie and she didn't miss that Lewis was purposely sitting like the cat who got the cream. Quite literally.
"Y/n, good luck kiss?" Lewis smiles catching her attention and earning a smile. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah, just thinking about earlier. It's...fine."
"Hey...don't let them ruin a good day. You look gorgeous, the race is going to be good and I want to see you afterwards with that gorgeous smile. All for me."
Y/n actually does genuinely smile over his words and when he leans in for a kiss it's fairly obvious his goal of perking her up was very successful. Something they're both very grateful for.
Watching the race y/n is so focused on Lewis she doesn't actually notice the cars around him, not till George appears and looks like he's trying to be the next torpedo driver as he tries a dive bomb and just completely smacks into Lewis, ripping through the right side of red sidepod and wrecking the floor.
"What the fuck?" Y/n whispers standing up as collective groans and yells of outrage shout through the garage.
That's race ending damage even if he wanted to continue.
They call for him to come in and he's pulled into the garage after trying to see if there's any chance of the car continuing but as suspected it's done for.
Lewis gets out being weighed before he takes a moment then sighs moving to his engineer. They spend a while watching replays, onboard, looking from different angles and he even moves back to the care talking to the mechanics as they inspect the damage which is severe.
"Are you ok?" Y/n mumbles making him look at her as he places his helmet down.
"You're never talking to your dad again." Lewis states earning a slightly shocked expression. It's one thing for her to be angry at.
Now George truly could've pulled that move of his own decision, he's the exact type of driver who would. Like an idiot. He got off lucky doing it.
"Y/n, I mean it." Lewis grumbles as a PR assistant appears telling him they need to get him to media. "I'll see you in the unit."
He then goes and spend the next half hour absolutely rinsing George calling him Toto's runner boy and directly making the accusation that the move was a matter of George being told to target Lewis and do anything to ruin is race. All because he's dating y/n.
-
Lewis made it clear.
He also used her as a bit of a cushion for frustration, she woke up this morning and decided she wouldn't be getting out of bed, although he did apologise for the sex that was about as rough as it's ever been. It's not as if she didn't enjoy herself. But the man certainly knows how to leave her feeling the effects of his dick the following day.
Luckily her is more than happy to do everything for her, he kisses her constantly and just holds her in cuddles, orders room service, gives her all his attention.
"You're the best thing in my life, you know that?" Lewis whispers gently pushing her hair back.
"You're the best thing in my life too."
"So...as an apology for the weekend-"
"You don't have to apologise." Y/n states quickly than moving over to straddle him. "I always love having sex with you."
"Do you?"
"Are you really going to make me prove it?" Y/n laughs earning a quick chuckle.
"No. You are in a rest day. Same as me. I think we're both owed it."
"Lewis...did it hurt?"
She knows that any impact in an F1 car can make the body ache but she really wants to know that Lewis is ok.
"It always hurts a little. But that one wasn't the worst." Lewis smiles then pulling her down to kiss her lightly. "You're sweet to ask, baby."
"Well so long as we can cuddle for the rest of the day, I think we're both resting enough."
"Agreed."
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forsworned · 2 days
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CASUAL ft. FWB!JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH
Warnings: Sexual Content, AFAB!Reader, FWB, Angst to Comfort
Author's note: Because Soap brainrot, that's all
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Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out Is it casual now?
The death grip you have on his mohawk as he sloppily eats you out with such vigor is making your legs shake so hard as you climax for the third time in the backseat of his truck. A gentle slap and a tender kiss to your clit after he's done supping you up and then he's adjusting himself in his trousers to make himself a little more comfortable under the restricting material.
"I gotta go now." He breathes, rubbing your bare thigh and you shiver at his touch. He always had to go. And honestly you could feel your heart dropping to your stomach as he flashes you that casual, boyish grin.
You only nod as you recollect yourselves and climb back to the front seats. Your heart on your sleeve as he pulls at your place and you're turning to him with a bashful smile. His baby blue are distant but he gives you a warm, good-natured grin as he rubs your thigh.
"Good seein' ya, lassie." He points his chin to the door as a gesture for you to hit the road in the most "polite" way possible.
You were no stranger to Johnny's detached ways. He was an avoidant at best when got his and he was sending you on your way to do whatever it is that you do before he hits you up again with a, "You up?" text.
Ugh.
"Dude, you deserve better." Your friend shakes her head at you as she pinches at a fry and pops it into her mouth.
"Honestly, he's a fucking asshole. He should be on his knees asking to be your man, not just the backseat of his truck." Your other friend chides, but it's lost on you. Their voices drown out as you peer over at your buzzing phone.
"You free tonite, lassie?"
"Don't" They quip at the same time, but it's tossed to the backlogs of your mind when you rush home after your hang out.
He's already there leaning against your doorway, swinging his car keys between his fingers as he lustfully gazes down at you. And in no time he's jovially, hungrily taking your face between his stout, calloused hands and kissing you passionately, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he grinds into you. And you can't take it anymore, you want him. You want him so fucking bad and you didn't care if it was casual. Or whatever bullshit, avoidant bullshit he was feeding you.
You wanted him, craved him. You waste no time pulling aside your panties as he merely unzips his jeans to free his hard, girthy cock and presses it between your succulent, dripping folds, and his thick brows are furrowed together in euphoria. He casts a small glance down at you to make sure you're all right as he pushes himself deeper into you. It's a pleasant burn as he stretches you out, and you welcome it because fuck, it feels so fucking good when he's filling you up, but when he's done emptying himself out you're hollow once again as he's zipping his jeans back up.
He adjusts his brown leather jacket and gives you a wink and kiss to the cheek before he's on his way out.
And you almost feel like crying when he's gone. Just the remnants of his cologne and splooge still left on your linen sheets.
Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach Is it casual now?
And then you're at the grocery store, picking out what bouquet would be the prettiest as your centerpiece, and feel a pair of arms wrap around you, a steady kiss to the cheek, and a rumbling Scottish accent in your ear, "Hey, sexy."
You visibly melt at his touch and he loves the way you're wrapped around his finger. Addicted to how pliant you are for him in every conceivable way.
"Ey, Johnny, ye gonna introduce me?"
And you both freeze at the voice. An awkward laugh escapes his chest as he's moving away from you and see a woman who adorns strikingly similar features to him.
"Ma, this is..."
"[name]." You smile that glorious smile of yours and for a second it's got Johnny kinda dazed. He's blinking out of his stupor, but something about the way you shake his moms hand and so effortlessly talk to her stirs something in him. A side he's never bothered to explore because he was waaaay too busy exploring your insides.
"Ye should come t' our house in Long Beach. We're havin' a wee, friendly get-together. Bring a pal, even." Her accent is thicker and even less coherent to your ears than Johnny's is so it takes you a second to decode what she's saying. And suddenly your face lights up and--uh, oh, Johnny's in trouble now.
Because she's smacking him across the head with her rolled-up wad of weekly ads that she picked up from the market and scolding him for not telling her about you.
"Aye, Johnny, I knew what ye're up to. She's a braw lassie. Get yerself sorted!" She spews as he opens the passenger seat door for her, rubbing the back of his head. You almost feel bad for him as you watch him get reprimanded by his mother from your car. But it's almost a little too embarrassing that you could tell what the conversation was about.
And he's trying his best not to be a dickhead when you do actually show up at the party, but you're lighting the room up with every step as you're being engaged and thrown into a cacophony of banter and laughter. And you're actually so fucking funny? Like, really funny, like he's keeling over and clutching his stomach funny and it's not just because of the persistent buzz of his ale.
You're witty and sexy and downright fucking gorgeous, especially when the sea breeze picks up and sends your hair back a little and it's like a slo-mo in those romcoms Johnny was forced by his mother to watch when he was growing up. And how could he forget about how gentle you were when you're speaking to the wee ones. Weaving wildflower crowns and plaiting hair as you coo at them so maternally. And the cheeky little grins you would have on your face as you whisper little nonsensicals to them, and melodious giggles that follow.
Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuck.
Is it casual now? I know what you tell your friends
But then you're heaving after your second orgasm, he's still pounding away at you and there's a different look in his eyes as he bends down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. He's overstimulating your clit and telling you what a sweet girl you are for him and that sends you over the edge and he's pulling out to cum all over your belly in hot white spurts.
Another kiss to your forehead before he gets up to what you think is him getting a towel to clean you up but he's lifting you over his shoulder in one swift movement and you're giggling all the way over to the shower. And then there's another round of deep, thrusting into your a-spot against the cold shower tiles until you're rolling your eyes back and begging for him to let you cum.
And that release is something else and he's smiling at you with his teeth latched between his lips, soaked dark lashes that frame his pretty cerulean blue eyes that send you into a trance. Honestly, heart eyes motherfucker because that's exactly how you would describe yourself in that moment as you gaze at him. He's just too damn pretty for words.
And how gentle he is when he's helping you clean off, but his presence is stripped too quickly for your liking. He's toweling himself down and grabbing his boxers as he puts his clothes back on, and you can only stand there studying him from the shower. He's leaving again and your heart was sinking.
But then you're hearing his voice, and you peep you head out just a bit to catch the conversation.
"Girlfriend?" He laughs, "not even close, mate."
And you could almost just disappear down the drain. You felt humiliated as you swamp out the rest of the exchange under the din of the hot water hitting your eardrums.
"She's mare like wifey material." He chuckles, thumbing through his camera roll in the little album he's titled, "Bonnie <3".
It's pictures he's collected over the past year of the both of you, some candid, (a lot) some in bed, and a ton from the night at the beach house. You were truly so beautiful and Johnny was getting caught up in you and he was no longer fighting it.
And I try to be the chill girl That holds her tongue and gives you space
But you're getting fed up when you're in the middle of movie night and Johnny decides it's the best idea to watch Good Will Hunting. And it's the scene where Will and Skylar are breaking up and it's tearing you up inside when you see Johnny get a bit misty-eyed. You can't help yourself. You reach for the remote and pause it before, turning to him with anger and frustration in your eyes. And he's reaching out for you to calm you down with a flummoxed gaze, but you're refusing his touch and comfort.
And Johnny is sent home with his tail between his legs, speeding down the highway as he blasts Johnny Cash and attempts to suppress the earlier occurrence. It's unpleasant. The feeling that's settling into his chest and it feels tight.
He pumps the brakes. Hard.
And he's reversing in the middle of an intersection, cars are honking, people yapping at him but it's white noise as he's racing back to your place.
And with his heart in his hand, he's thumping urgently at your door and it feels like a millennia before you're opening it.
Tear-stained blood-shot eyes, disheveled hair in his Scotland flag embroidered hoodie he misplaced a month ago. He stares at your sniffling, crumpled form. Oh, how could he have done this to such a beautiful woman?
"I was lookin everywhere fer that hoodie." He says softly. His eyes are glossy as he blinks down at you, half smile and all.
You peer at the hoodie and then up at him. "What do you want? The hoodie? Here."
You begin to take it off but he's shaking his head and pulling it back down especially when he realizes you have nothing on underneath and he would be baring you out to the world. He heaves himself inside and you're scrambling against his arms, trying to push him out but of course, Johnny outsizes you by way too much to even make him move. He's holding you by the waist, leaning his forehead against yours as he dabs at the tears in the corner of your eyes.
"Y're so beautiful, [name]." He murmurs.
You're watery eyes, ream at his words. He had never said that to you before and your heartstrings are being pulled in every direction.
"What...?"
He kisses your cheek so tenderly and you feel like your ascending, "I said, y're beautiful, [name]. 'n' I wish I told ye that earlier."
You gaze down at his shoes not wanting to meet his eyes but he lifts your chin and meets your lips with the softest kiss he's ever bestowed upon you. It was so chaste yet so ardent and it made your heart skip a beat.
"I don't understand." Your thoughts are racing at this point and he can see it in your eyes. How absolutely head over heels you are for him and he was too much of a dickhead to really acknowledge it, how utterly striking you were, how perfectly imperfect you were. Going out of your way for him and fuck, he did not deserve it. Not then and maybe not even now, but realizing what a catch he has in his literal palms, he doesn't want to let go. And he will do anything to make up for it.
"'m sorry, hen. Never should have treated like ye were rubbish. Ye should be cherished 'n' protected." He brushes the hair out of your face and it is a painful revelation standing there in front of you with his heart on display and he's wondering how you were so brave to be doing it baring it out for him every time. And still, he would reject it like the bastard he was. Refusing to let you in when all you wanted was to be preserved, served, and loved.
"Johnny, I--" You croak out, tears cascading down your cheeks and you're looking back down at the ground, but he gently cups your cheeks.
"No, I love you, [name]. An' if ye let me, 'll do everythin' an' anythin' to make it up to ye. Ye were always there f'r me, an' it's about time I return it."
He shakes his head, wiping away his eyes. "Damn, 'm pure shite at this, but I hope ye can forgive me."
But as warm as your heart was, you have to stand firm. Johnny had hurt you in so many ways so, it wasn't going to be easy for you to just say yes. "You really hurt me, Johnny..."
"I know, I know, but 'm a man of action an' 'll do anythin'." He's pleading and to say that it isn't satisfying as fuck to see this beautiful, brawny man that you've been fucking for the past year groveling for you, was simply a lie.
"Ye gettin' off to this?" A smile graces his lips and you try to hold back, but you can't help but smile back at him.
Everything is so infectious about Johnny and it kills you.
"Fuck you." You breathe out, running a hand through your hair.
And he can't help but attack you with kisses and lift you up before crushing you under his weight as he lays you out on your mattress. Giggling like a maniac you remember to compose yourself even if it felt like the surface was breaching. There's a pause and you're both gazing into each other's eyes as you intertwine fingers, and Johnny is kissing you again, but it's different. It's really full of love and admiration.
He sighs in content for a moment before withdrawing and peers down at you. "S'what d'ya say? Gimme a chance?"
You cock a brow and smile at him. "You really are in no position to ask me."
"But..." "I'll sleep on it."
He's beaming at you now and you're totally getting flustered under his gaze. He wasn't going to let you slip away this go around.
"Deal."
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respectthepetty · 12 hours
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Dunk and Joong could have offered me anything in 2024, and I would have taken it, gladly, no questions because my ass is a Jaidee fan first and a human second. But to hand me The Heart Killers? Oh! Let me list all the reasons y'all gonna hate me when this comes out.
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Joong plays Khao's older brother
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Khaotung is older than Joong, but in BL Land that doesn't matter because Khao is playing the hopeless romantic little brother while Joong is playing his stern older brother. Someone already wrote it was 10 Things I Hate About You/The Taming of the Shrew, and Shakespeare would be thrilled to know one of his masterpieces is getting the queer treatment and it's not Twelfth Night.
Dunk is playing the crazy seducer
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Boy wants a car and is willing to go to great lengths to do it, including distracting some dude, so his buddy can play house with that dude's little brother. But the whole point is they had to find a guy who was crazy enough to accept the offer in the first place >insert Dunk's character< so the guy isn't just wanting the car. He is doing this for the thrill of getting tied up, stripped down, and threatened.
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And I respect that.
Jojo is apparently directing
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I wanna have beef with Jojo after Only Friends, then I look at his resume and remember this is the man who gave me puppy play in The Warp Effect, poly in 3 Will Be Free, and a chaotic stripper named Judo in Dirty Laundry PLUS the YinWar trailer for their Partner in Crime concert which has now lead to YinWar doing Jack & Joker, so as a vegetarian, I'm gonna be like Elsa and let that go.
Which means Rath is probably the cinematographer
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I don't give men compliments easily, so when I state that Cinematographer Rath has never disappointed me, I mean it. The man knows what he is doing, and if he is in on this series, I know if anything, it will be visually stunning.
First and Khao being the Beyonce of GMMTV
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I'm in Jaidee's corner always, but I have eyes and First and Khao could really do whatever they want and I'd eat it up. I have believed them with whomever they have been partnered with in the past, and if they want to play high schoolers in an oppressed school system or a banker willing to see his ex and his ex's new man just to flirt with the boy from the market, I'm buying the tickets, I'm sitting in the front row, and I'm holding up homemade posters. Basically, I'm shutting the fuck up and experiencing whatever they want me to experience.
First and Khao tears
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This is its own category because when they cry, they are in a league of their own. They claimed this series was going to be lighter than their previous work, but what is a First or Khao series without tears? I hope they are drinking water right now because someone is crying in this series, and JD's faces are already wet for other reasons.
DUNK'S BODY!
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Not to objectify the man's body, but . . . it's a banger, and he has been done dirty by wardrobe for two solid years. His face card never declines. His arms are solid. His waist is snatched. His hair is perfect. Even Tay, New, and Jan were talking about him in the BTS for Peaceful Property because they were saying how New's character was based off of Dunk - pretty, fashionable, and COCKY! But wouldn't we all be that cocky if we were walking around looking like this?! Like shut up fives. A ten is speaking!
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It's high time that man got to stunt like Force always does just taking off his shirt for no reason. Good for him. And good for us.
Oh, yeah, and the plot
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Sorry, I mean the plot.
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SHIT, THE PLOT!
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You know what? Nah. I honestly do not give a fuck about the plot. Joong and Khao are hired killers. First is out to get them. Dunk gets involved (although, I think he knows a lot more than he leads on), and . . .
All will end well.
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Because if anything, Jojo ain't never been allergic to a happy ending *wink*
So just know this show hit its target audience
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ME!
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¡Salud!
244 notes · View notes
twice-inamillion · 2 days
Text
Smut (Tsundere, First-time sex, Penetration, Creampie, Breaking down, Getting caught)
After Jimmy Choo 
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Chapter 233
 3,900 Words 
(Jeongyeon's first brand grand opening and her first, if you know what I mean. Jeongyeon and OC get a bit tipsy and “stuff” occurs. Jeongyeon acts like a tsundere but gets taken down by OC’s length.
Jeongyeon walks down the red carpet and stops at the black tape, turning for the camera. The flash of dozens of cameras go off, capturing the beauty of Yoo Jeongyeon. 
You stand from afar and watch Jeongyeon pose and act properly in front of everyone. Internally laughing at how professional she is being compared to how she is at home. 
Out of nowhere you noticed a hooded person with soccer sweats and a large camera taking pictures of Jeongyeon. “Is that a sasang?” You walk towards the direction of the person who covers their face with a hoodie and mask and grab their shoulder, “Can I help you with something?” 
The person flinches and turns around, “it's me.” You're surprised to see Nayeon in a disguise and say, “What are you doing here?”
“Just here to show my support and take some funny pictures.”
You can’t help but chuckle and say, “Alright, good luck.” 
You leave and go back to your position until Jeongyeon walks back to the store to look around at the merchandise. “Good job with the press.”
“Thanks. What is next on the schedule?”
“Well, you have an hour here, and then a get-together at the venue next door for a few more hours.” 
“Fuck, I'm tired already. Want to go home.”
“Hey, keep it down. People are going to hear you.”
“But…”
“How about this: you relax and do well, and I'll buy you something to eat.”
“Better get that wallet ready because I'm going to empty it out.”
“That's only if you behave.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 
The day goes on without a hitch and get positive feedback from the event staff about Jeongyeon's engagement throughout the day. 
Once the event is over, Jeongyeon changes shoes and steps out of the changing room, “All right, let's go. I'm hungry.”
“You're not going to change outfit?”
“Nah, they said I can keep it, so I'll just wear it. Let's go. I have a place in mind, so prepare your wallet.”
“Just nothing too expensive.”
“You said you were treating me to a meal and said nothing about cost so get ready to drop some won.”
“Fuck, alright. Let's go.”
Jeongyeon gives you directions to the place, which is a mom-and-pop restaurant that serves some good drinks and a variety of meats. The server comes up and asks for the number of people in the party. “Just two,” responds Jeongyeon, and are immediately escorted to a table.
Once seated, Jeongyeon doesn't waste any time to grab the menu and look at what they offer. She orders multiple side dishes, different cuts of meats, and a couple of drinks. 
“You're going to break my wallet!”
“That's on you. You're the one who invited.”
“Alright, it doesn't happen often, so I might as well.”
The food arrives, and the two of you begin to dig in. After paying the bill, Jeongyeon convinces you to go to a bar after calling you a lightweight. She orders a few beers, soju, and vodka. 
It doesn't take long until she begins to slur her words and get a little touchy, “oppa, why are you so hardheaded?” Jeongyeon rubs your thighs and puts her head against your shoulder. 
“Jeongyeon, I think you had enough to drink. Let’s call a cab and head back.”
”I don’t want to. I can still drink a bit more,” as she tries to pour herself another glass of soju.”
“No, I think you had enough. Let’s go.”
”Noo. I don’t to go back. You can go if you want, I’m going to stay.”
”Come on, you’re going to get hurt or draw attention to yourself.”
”Why do you care? I don’t belong to you. Just go.” 
Jeongyeon can be a good drinker, but mixing different drinks isn’t her forte. You pay the tab, get her belongings and help her walk towards the exit. “I’m going to call a cab.”
”No, it’s too expensive right now. My sister’s place is nearby. We can stop there for a bit.”
”Are you sure?”
”Yeah, she’s away on a trip for a few days.”
”Okay, where is it?”
”Umm, a few minutes away, that way” as she points towards with her finger. “Alright, lets go. Just let me know.”
”Take out your phone.”
”Okay.” You hand her your phone, and she opens the navigation app and voices her sister’s address on your phone. “Here, that’s easier.” 
You hold your phone out as you help her walk to her sister’s place. It only takes a few minutes for the both of you to arrive. “This is her place. Let me insert the pin.” She struggles inputting the pin with her fingers missing the keypad.
”Let me do it. What’s her pin?”
”Oh, it's my parent’s wedding date.” 
You insert the pin, and the door opens. Jeongyeon walks towards the living room couch and lays down. “Jeongyeon, try to change your clothes and get some rest.”
“I don't want to, I'm too lazy.”
“Come on, you can't sleep like that.”
“Fuck, alright. Damn, you're so annoying!” 
“Hey, I'm just doing it because I care, but if you don't, then forget about it.”
“Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.”
“I'm just doing it because I care.”
“If you care then come help me stand up so I can change.”
You give Jeongyeon your hand and help her walk to her sister's room to grab some clothes. 
She looks at herself in the mirror and tries to get herself together after a night of drinking. She's tippy but not drunk enough to need your help and is just playing the part of a defenseless girl. “It's now or never,” and smacks her face.
She exits the bathroom and heads to the living room, where you are on your phone. She grabs the remote, selects a movie, and plays it. 
“Isn’t it kind of late to watch a movie?”
”Not sleepy. Want a snack?”
”Sure.” 
Jeongyeon heads to the fridge, grabs an ice cream bar, and hands one to you, “Here.” She grabs a blanket and uses it to cover herself as she lays on the couch. 
“What are we watching?”
”Just shut up and watch the movie. Dang, you and all your questions.”
You tell yourself that if Jeongyeon wasn’t drunk, you would have slapped her in the back of the head. Sometimes you don’t understand why she can be cool and rude at other times, you just can't read her. 
The movie plays, and you try to watch it, but after a while, you begin to fall asleep on the couch. Your eyes feel heavy, and you turn to Jeongyeon, seeing her completely invested in the movie. With your arm resting on the couch, you use it as support and decide to close your eyes for a bit.
Suddenly, you feel a weird sensation on your crotch but don’t pay too much attention to it. Only a few moments later, you feel a hand rustling inside your boxers and grabbing your cock. You turn around and see Jeongyeon sitting next to you with her blanket covering the both of you, “What are you doing?”
”Nothing.”
You lift the covers and see Jeongyeon's hand inside your pants, grabbing onto your limp cock.”
“Jeongyeon, stop.”
“What. I just wanted to take a look.”
“Come on, right now it’s not the time, you're drunk.”
“I'm not drunk. Plus, it seemed like you needed a bit of help. You should be grateful I'm touching that nasty ass cock.” She continues to stroke your shaft with her hand, slowly.
Jeongyeon pulls the covers, giving you a glimpse of her hand in your pants. She looks at you with a smirk and pulls out your cock. “What a disgusting-looking cock. It's all limp and nasty-looking. I bet you can't even hold a boner.”
Trying to prove her wrong, you imagine yourself flipping Jeongyeon over and fucking her without mercy. This wild type of thinking makes you fully erect. “What about now?”
“Eww, it's so veiny. I don't understand why the girls are so into that cock of yours.” 
“What the fuck, Jeongyeon. Why do you have to be such a bitch?”
You can see her expression change, and out of nowhere, you see her hand swing at you and towards your face.
“You think you can hit me?” as you catch her hand midair. She tries to go for another swing, but you dodge it. “Haha, what now? You can't even hit right.”
“Fuck you,” and you feel her spit on your face. “What the fuck!”
You see her smirk, making you lose your patience. With a firm grip, you grab her hands and pin her down on the couch. “Someone needs to teach you a lesson or two.”
“And you think that's you? What do you think you're going to do, fuck me?”
“That's what you want, huh? Someone to fuck the shit out of you.”
“Haha, don't think you'll be able to satisfy me at all.” 
“Fuck you, let's see if that's the case,” you pick her up like a rag doll and carry her to her sister's room. She tries to fight you by smacking your chest, but you just toss her into the bed and begin to remove your clothes. All she does is watch as you get completely naked. 
Jeongyeon then tries to get away, but you grab onto her oversized shirt and rip it off, “What are you doing?”
“I'm going to fuck the shit out of you,” as you focus on her shorts. With one firm grip of your hand, you pull her shorts down, exposing her bushy cunt.
“Haha, nice bush.”
“Fuck off.”
Her shorts get tossed to the ground, and you spread her legs wide open. Jeongyeon tries to cover her cunt, but with her hands but they’re pinned down, all she can do is watch as you glide your fingers against her nicely trimmed but full bushy cunt.
You can see her eyes get watery from the position she is in so you go in for a kiss. Jeongyeon is surprised by the sudden kiss and doesn’t know how to react, but her heart begins to race. She tries to fight you off, but with your weight on her, it’s futile and just watches as you explore her mouth with your tongue. 
After what seems like a minute or two, you pull away from her lips and give your attention to her cunt. You grab your semi-hard cock and smack it against her pelvis, then glide it across her nicely trimmed but bushy cunt. “Fuck, that feels so nice. Didn’t know you liked keeping yours like this.”
”Shut up. It’s not like I knew you were going to do this. Just put it in already and get it over with,” she said as she tilts her head to the side. 
“Don’t play dumb, I know you want this cock” as you slap it against her cunt. 
“Do you think I want that nasty thing inside me? Haha, you must be crazy.”
With your cock in hand, you trace it against her folds and feel a slight wetness, “Don’t think your body agrees with you. It wants me to put this thing right here, inside.”
”No, you’re wrong.”
”I guess you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. You’re too uptight. Momo and Chaeyoung were right; you’re such a scaredy cat,” as you turn away.
”What did they say?”
”Nothing much, just that you don’t make up your mind and are probably the last person to find a partner with your attitude. They said something like you’re going to be an, “Old cat lady” and alone your whole life.”
”Take that back.”
”I didn’t say that; it was them. But I think they might be right.” You pull up your boxers and button up your pants, ready to head out.
”Wait.”
You turn around and see her position herself against the bed with her legs wide open and her fingers spreading her lower lips.
”No, you lost your chance.”
“Why not? You legit were going to do it a few minutes ago.”
“I’m not going to be your toy to get at the others because your ego took a hit.”
”Please, all you got to do is just put it in.”
”I don’t just “put it in” I’m not a dog.”
”Alright, screw you.” 
“You know what, since you want it that bad, then I’ll do it, but you’re going to owe me a favor.”
”What do you want?”
”Don’t worry about it. I’ll let you know when the time arrives.”
You unbutton your pants and toss your boxers to the side. Jeongyeon stares at your member as you climb on the bed and lay on it. “Alright, there you go.”
”What do you mean?”
”Since you want it that bad, then put it in yourself.”
”It’s not that I want to, I’m just doing it because of what they said.”
”Yeah, tell yourself that.” 
You get yourself comfortable and cross your arms behind your neck, “It’s ready when you are.” Jeongyeon glares at you and says, “Get that smug look off your face.”
”Why should I? I’m about to get some free pussy tonight.”
”You’re such a pig. I don’t know what Jihyo sees in you.”
”Hey, if you don't, then just find someone else,” as you try to get up.
”No!,” pushing you back to the bed. “Just shut up and I’ll do everything.”
You nod and watch Jeongyeon get her thoughts together as she tries to mount you. She grabs your cock and gives it a few strokes. Her strokes have no rhythm, and you can tell she’s nervous, which makes it even better for you. After a minute or two, she says, “I’m going to put it in.”
”Wait, let me get my phone.”
”Why do you need your phone?”
”I’m going to record it.”
”No! Don’t!”
”Well, you want have evidence to show the girls and prove them wrong, right?”
Jeongyeon freezes and contemplates if recording is the right choice but then remembers the videos on her phone. “Okay, just let me see it when it's done.”
”Yeah, no problem.” 
With your phone in hand, you get a perfect view of Jeongyeon on top of you. She grabs your cock once more, lifts herself up and aligns your member to her entrance. “Rub the tip against your folds, it feels much better.” Without saying anything, she traces her lower lips against your tip, coating them with each other’s nectar. 
Once she covers your whole tip with her nectar, she positions it at her entrance. She lowers herself slowly, inserting the tip inside her cunt. Little by little, she takes more of you, and you can feel her walls spreading from your girth. 
“Ahh, so big.”
Jeongyeon stops with only two inches inside of her and tries to collect her composure. 
“Why you stop?”
”It hurts. You’re much bigger than my toys.” 
“Haha.” 
She covers her mouth, realizing what she just said. “I didn’t mean that, I’ve had much bigger than you.”
”Oh, really? Prove it. Take it all in at once.”
”I don’t want to.”
You set the phone on the nightstand with a good bed view. “Want me to help you?” 
“No, get your nasty hands off me!”
Her constant name-calling and degrading you when you’re just trying to help her out, you realize that this is the last straw. You need to teach her a lesson and show her who’s in charge.
“Know you what Jeongyeon, I’m tired of your shit.” 
“ Wait, what are you doing?” as she sees you get up and suddenly flip her over with her back against the bed. 
“Remember, I said that I was going to fuck the shit out of you.”
No, please. I’m sorry. I take it back.” 
Her pleas go through deaf ears as you align your cock to her entrance. You can see her reaction change when she realizes what you are going to do. “Wait!” In one go you slam yourself into her, violently shoving your whole cock to the deepest part of her womb.
“Please wait, let me catch my breath, at least.”
”Fuck! Fuck! You dumb ass, it hurts!” complaining about the pain. She tries to push you away, but it's no use; you’re going to have your fun. 
"Pull it out!"
"I don't want to."
Just like before, you ignore her pleas and instead start to thrust rapidly. She grabs onto your arms, digging her nails into your skin. Her nails sting, but know it's nothing compared to what Jeongyeon is going through, so you bear with it. 
“Please, you’re going too rough; just slow down.”
The only response is the sound of flesh slapping against each other, her walls getting stretched by your massive girth. You keep on thrusting, switching from a rapid pace to a slow one and repeating it over and over again. 
It doesn’t take long for Jeongyeon to reach her climax, her walls almost choking your cock. “Ahh, fuck! I’m cumming!”
Jeongyeon cums on your cock, arching her back and spasming uncontrollably. You all can do is hold her tight for a few seconds before fucking her again. Jeongyeon’s eyes go wide as she feels you thrust your cock inside her clenching insides and apologizes to you for being mean to you and begs you to stop and let her finish her orgasm. 
“Please, I’m sorry.”
”You don’t mean it.”
”I do.”
”I don’t believe you.”
Instead of stopping, you increase the pace, making Jeongyeon realize that all she can do is try to keep whatever sanity she has left. 
After some time, you feel a sense of hotness in your core, knowing that you’re about to cum soon. You want to see Jeongyeon’s reaction when you give her the news. 
”Fuck, Jeongyeon. I’m going to cum soon.”
”Ah ah... just make sure to pull out.”
Instead, you switch positions and place her in a mating press. “What are you doing?”
”I want to make sure you get a good view when it cum inside you.”
”Wait, what?”
”Don’t play dumb. You heard me. I’m going to mark that womb of yours. Maybe you’ll be less of a bitch if I fill you up.”
The thing you don’t realize is that she actually wants you to cum inside. That’s all she’s ever wanted, to feel her womb get filled by your thick cum like the rest of her members. She wanted you to fuck her this whole time, but her tsundere personality doesn’t allow her to show her actual feelings. 
She watches as you pin her down and spread her legs even wider to get a better position. Her heart beats faster and faster as you shout that you’re about to cum. 
“Take it out, don’t come inside!”
Those are fake words that she says, but inside her head, she says the complete opposite and begs you to fill her to the brim.
”Fuck, I’m going to claim your womb as mine, so take my cum, you annoying bitch!”
”Ahh fuck! What are you doing? It's so hot!” unknowingly wrapping her legs around your waist but saying the complete opposite to her actions. 
Jeongyeon’s head goes crazy with what she is feeling, her neurons firing the fastest it's ever been. She finally understands why the rest of the members enjoy the feeling of getting her womb pumped with your baby batter. 
“You’re going to ruin me!” and bites your shoulder.
”Fuck!”
”Haha, that’s what you get.” 
You pull out and check touch the area where she bit you, but it isn’t too bad. You then focus your attention on Jeongyeon and see her gaping cunt, oozing out cum. 
“Fuck, you look hot covered in my cum” teasing her.
She rolls her eyes, “Shut up. I told you to pull out. Look at the mess you made,” pointing at the cum dripping on the sheets. You grab the camera, position it before her, and take a shot of your work. 
“What are you doing?”
”Taking a picture. Nine out of nine, check. haha.”
Jeongyeon gives you a disgusted expression when she realizes what you meant and throws a pillow at you but dodge it. 
“How about another round? I’ll pull out this time.”
”Do what you want. What’s the point of pulling out if you already came inside of me” and spreads her legs open. 
"Turn around and get on all fours, I want to fuck you from the back.” 
Like someone who has accepted her fate, she does as she’s told and gets on all fours. She buries her face onto the pillow and spreads her cheeks, giving you a good view of her holes. 
You align your cock to her entrance and smack her ass, causing her to yelp from getting caught off guard. 
“I’m going to fuck you all night, so make sure to keep up.”
She bites the pillow and makes a face of pure euphoria as she gets her insides rearranged. The two of you end up doing it for hours until she passes out of exhaustion and with a smile on her face. 
You head to the livingroom and get something to drink as you go through your phone and look over the videos you’ve made with the rest of the members before going back to sleep. 
---------
The next day you get woken up and see Jeongyeon on top of you with your cock in her hand and aligned it to her entrance. To your surprise, she seems different from usual, happy, you might suggest. 
Obviously, you wouldn’t say no to some morning sex and just let Jeongyeon do her thing. She slowly inserts the tip and waits a few seconds before dropping her whole weight on your cock. 
“Fuck, so good,” and begins to ride you in a hard but steady manner. She places her head on your shoulder, letting you hear her heavy breathing. 
You close your eyes and whisper in Jeongyeon’s ear all the things you did last night. The more you say, the tighter her walls clench on your cock, and the more sure she gets into a good rhythm. 
Unbeknownst to you, someone was making their way back home after being away for a few days. She unlocks the door and can’t think of anything but to take a nice shower and take a nap after a busy week. She notices that her house is off but can’t find what it is. She then looks down and sees a pair of shoes she’s never seen before and her younger sister’s shoes next to it. 
Seungyeon walks around to see a blanket and some clothes on the couch. She has a vague idea of what occurred and smiles. Seungyeon slowly makes her way to her room and hears moaning coming out from the other side of the door. She takes out her phone and, quietly turns the handle, and sees her sister in the nude on top of some. 
“Click. Click.” 
Suddenly, Jeongyeon turns around and sees her sister standing at the entrance with her phone and flash on. 
“Unnie!” 
“Surprise!”
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