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roseghoul26 · 2 days

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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: After being captured by The Ghoul, he had dragged you through the hot desert of the Wasteland. You were so thirsty, and you’d do anything for a drink of water. And you meant anything. Tags: Smut, Practically No Plot, Humiliation, Begging, Spit, Blowjobs, Throat Fucking, Thigh Riding, Biting, Hate Sex(?), maybe OOC The Ghoul but I think I got it right, Not Beta Read, there's still consent because i can’t write severe noncon Author's Note: i had so many “why am i writing this” moments yet i still finished it i’m so sorry.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this thirsty in your life.

Scratch that, you don’t think anyone’s ever been as thirsty as you currently are.

Even though you had no saliva left to swallow, you tried anyway, your throat feeling like sandpaper. It caused you to cough, earning a disgruntled noise from the ghoul currently holding you hostage.

The Ghoul. Infamous bounty hunter and the cruelest person you’d ever met. Of course, you only found out who he was after he captured you. You’d never even heard of a ghoul until a few days ago, your sheltered life in Vault 14 withholding information about the surface to you.

You wished you were back home, suffocating as it was. At home, you wouldn’t be forced to walk countless miles under the boiling Wasteland sun. At home, you wouldn’t have a lasso around your neck, preventing you from running off. And even if you did manage to somehow escape the rope confines, you’d seen how accurate of a shot he was. He’d kill you before you managed to keep a foot away from him.

You glanced back at him, The Ghoul, who had his sawed-off shotgun casually trained on you. He seemed unaffected by the heat, by the sun beating down on your faces. His hat made sure of that, and you supposed that you didn’t have to worry about sunburn if all your exposed skin was melted by radiation.

It had been hard, looking at him at first. After spending your entire life surrounded by “normal” humans, it was a shock seeing him for the first time. You’d seen burn scars before, sure, but never this severe, every inch of him covered in them. Of course, that wasn’t the most off-putting part. That had to be the complete lack of nose, an empty socket where the cartilaginous appendage should be.

It unsettled you deeply, but you found that you couldn’t stop looking at him, a sick part of your brain enjoying it. You didn’t dare delve into that part of your mind right now, though, your current circumstance is significantly more important.

He had stopped you in Filly, and after a brief discussion had decided that he was taking you with wherever he was going. You had no say in the decision, and even when you fought and kicked and screamed he still managed to get you bound. A few people tried to help, not because they cared about you, but because they had also wanted to get their hands on a “Vaultie”. Apparently, you were worth something to them up here, a commodity of sorts. It made your skin crawl. You’d gotten firsthand experience, then, of how good of a shot The Ghoul was.

How you longed to be back in the stuffy Vault, working as a teacher to those kids. As annoying as they were, at least they weren’t currently threatening your life, or making you walk to who the hell knows. You’d take that over this any day. Hell, you’d take latrine duty with overflowing toilets every single hour over this.

You fixed your attention back in front of you, the endless stretch of sandy dunes in front of you broken up by partially destroyed houses and skeletons of buildings. Your feet were in incredible amounts of pain, every step feeling like you had fifty pounds of bricks attached to your ankles. And that thirst, never ending, overwhelming thirst you felt nagged at you, consuming every thought of yours. You’d take anything to drink now, even that definitely radiated puddle you’d passed hours ago. Or was it minutes? You couldn’t tell.

You knew dehydration had long since started affecting you. You were no longer able to form sweat, and you were certain that your body was slowly cooking from the inside. You were almost certain it would be a better fate than whatever The Ghoul was leading you towards.

You hadn’t even realized he’d stopped until you felt a sharp tug at your throat, nearly toppling you on your ass. You heard him chuckle as you steadied yourself, and you shot him a glare. Even faced with death, you weren’t going to let yourself be treated like this. “We’re stopin’ here,” he gestured to a dilapidated building to his right.

You had been surprised when he spoke the first time, not expecting a southern drawl. You’d never heard an accent like his before, only ever hearing them on the Holotapes your Vault would play for movie night. You’d also believed them to be fake, or to have died out with the rest of humanity. You had to admit, the one good thing to come out of this whole experience was hearing his voice.

Momentarily confused as to why you were stopping, your eyes focused, and you realized that the sun was half set. You’d learned rather quickly that it was suicidal and stupid to travel across the Wasteland at night, after an almost perilous encountered with what you assumed to once be a bear. You’d barely escaped with your life, climbing a tree until the creature grew disinterested and found new prey.

You almost wished it had torn you apart then.

Apparently you were taking too long, and you felt another tug at the rope, pulling you closer to him. “Ain’t got all day, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The name was anything but sweet, saying it with so much condescension that it made you flush angrily. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Grumbling something under your breath, you stormed past him, another low chuckle leaving him. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from that mouth on ya,” he threatened, waving the gun at you in a go on motion.

The shifting sand nearly caused you to stumble as you ducked into the house through a window, and your eyes struggled to adjust to the low lighting. Holding your breath, you listened for anything else in the house besides the two of you, and when you were met with only your heartbeat, you continued further in.

Entering what used to be the living room, you saw a large couch, still in relatively decent condition, and luckily free of decomposed bodies. Any wood furniture, however, had already decayed, leaving only fragments where they once stood. You realized that if you were to sit on the couch, it would probably crumble under the weight.

The Ghoul entered behind you, and you made your way down the hallway, checking each room for anyone or anything that could do you harm. The first room was a bathroom, sand filling the bathtub like it was water. Out of desperation you almost tried to turn the handles on the sink, lift the seat of the toilet, do anything for a drop of water. But you refrained, not willing to stoop to that level yet. But you could feel that you were close.

The next room was a large master bedroom, completely destroyed from when the bombs fell. Sand covered everything, and the walls had practically caved in, leaving you exposed to the outside. There was no where you would stay there willingly tonight.

The third and final room was also completely devoid of life, but the empty crib in the middle of the room had you gasping, and you heard the click of a gun behind you as The Ghoul prepared for anything. You quickly shut the door. “Nothing, sorry,” you managed to croak out, and you heard him scoff.

However, you saw that he did manage to catch a glimpse of the room before you closed the door, and in those still human eyes you saw something flash through them. Sadness? Longing? Anger? You couldn’t tell, but you sure as hell weren’t about to ask him about it.

Living room it is, then. Heading back to the original room, you watch The Ghoul sit on the couch, right in the center of it. It held, surprisingly, but you could hear the wood groan in warning. Spreading his legs, you watched him tilt his head back, a content sigh leaving his mouth.

If you had the energy to blush, you would’ve as you watched him, finding yourself having to look away. Maybe dehydration was messing with your brain, the way you thought that was attractive. What the hell was wrong with you, you thought.

Thirst quickly chased those thoughts away, and you attempted to lick your dry lips, your tongue mostly sticking to them instead. You were about to go explore the bathroom until you remembered the rope around your neck.

Like he could read your thoughts, you watched him regard the lasso in his gloved hand. “You gonna run off on me if I take this off, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, excited to have the irritating rope no longer chafing your neck. “You’ll kill me before I could,” you responded, voice barely a whisper.

The Ghoul barked out a laugh. “Damn right I will.” He considered your response for a moment, and you fully believed that he was going to keep it there. That was until he stood, almost inhumanly fast, approaching you with long strides.

Holding your breath, you felt his tug the rope off your neck, those eerily human eyes never leaving yours as he did. You flinched when you felt one of his leather-clad fingers brush over the irritated skin. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, mostly because of fear, but also for another reason that you refused to name.

With a satisfactory smirk, he looped the lasso back onto his belt. You quickly exhaled when he stepped away, eliciting a coughing fit, which was dry and only irritated your throat more. Fuck, you were so thirsty.

The Ghoul sat back on the couch in that same lounging position, and you debated sitting on the floor in front of him, but you feared that if you rested now then you’d never get back up. You watched him set a lantern on the ground, the weak oil based contraption the only source of light in the entire room. You didn’t ask why he didn’t start a fire; you also learned to not do that early on too.

So you remained standing, even though your feet screamed for relief. You ignored them, shifting to try and alleviate the pain slightly. Rubbing your neck, you could feel that he hadn't once taken his eyes off of you, and it was making you increasingly unnerved. “You gonna stand there all night?”

You crossed your arms. “Yes.” You tried to sound defiant, but it came out more like an airy noise.

“Suit yourself, then.” He rolled his eyes, making a show of getting comfortable on the couch. “It’ll be a long night for you, that’s for sure.”

Swaying, you leaned your back against one of the barely-standing walls, screwing your eyes shut. You occupied your thoughts with memories of home, trying desperately to ignore the pain. You were mostly successful, that was until you heard the sound of a canister being opened.

Curious, you opened your eyes back up, nearly falling to your knees when you saw him drinking from a circular canteen. You must’ve made some noise, because he was now smirking at you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you watched a droplet of precious water trail down his scarred chin, dripping onto his dusty clothes.

“See somethin’ you want, sweetheart?” He was unabashedly cocky with his tone.

You son of a bitch, you thought, glaring daggers into him.

“Now, now, no need to be like that,” he chuckled, taking another sip. “Just tell me what ya want.”

He wanted you to ask for it. He wanted you to be at his mercy. Groaning, you rest your head back against the wall. You don’t think you’ve ever hated anyone as much as you hated The Ghoul. Any humanity left in him had been stripped away, leaving behind a cruel excuse of a human. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the way your heart continued to patter in your chest as he stared at you expectantly, that cocky attitude doing things to you that would leave anyone who knew you horrified.

“I…” you tried to talk, but your voice proved to be too scratchy. Clearing your throat as best you could, you tried again, ignoring the way he looked at you like a predator would his prey. It was similar to the bear from earlier, but you’d take that now over the ghoul in front of you. “I need water.”

He tsked, crossing a leg over his lap. “And here I thought you Vaulties were raised with manners.”

It took everything in you to not just snap at him, but that would leave you without any water. “I need water, please,” you gritted out.

The Ghoul shook his head disapprovingly. “Shame,” you heard him mutter, before he was slowly pouring the water out onto the floor behind him.

Sheer panic tore through you, and if you were able to form tears, they would be in your eyes. “Wait, wait, wait,” you pleaded, your voice cracking and breaking, and you lunged forward. The click of a gun had your blood going cold, but he at least had the decency to stop pouring. You held your hands up, taking a few steps back.

Registering that you weren’t going to attack him, he lowered the gun, but he still kept it on his lap. If he had any eyebrows left, you’re sure one of them would be raised, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” you stammered out, keeping your hands in the air. “I just… Can I please have some water? Please, I-I… I need it. I’m begging you… please.” You wondered if he could even make out your words.

You watched his eyes travel up and down your body, and he cocked his head. “Are you?” You made a confused noise, and he chuckled lowly. “Are you beggin’ me?”

One problem that you always had at the Vault is that you never knew when to shut your mouth, and what you said next certainly made it clear that you hadn’t learned yet. “You want me to get on my knees, then?” You had meant it sarcastically, and you immediately regretted it when his eyes went dark.

You heard the creak of the couch as he planted both feet on the ground, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. His guns barely stayed in his lap, but he didn’t seem to care. “Now that you mention it… yeah.”

Humiliation warmed your cheeks, and you nearly let your pride stop you from sinking to the floor, but then you saw the way the canteen hung precariously in his hand. Damn it all. Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly, unable to look at the man, not wanting to see his victorious reaction. The sand shifted beneath your knees as you rested on them, but you could barely feel the relief your feet finally felt.

“Can-”

“Closer,” he cut you off gruffly. “And I want those eyes on me.” His voice had turned husky, and you realized he was enjoying this. Were… were you enjoying this too? You honestly couldn’t tell.

Wordlessly, you obeyed, shuffling forward until your knees bumped into his shoes. Your ears burned worse than they did out in the sun, and you wished it would just explode and incinerate you right now. “Eyes up, sweetheart,” he practically purred.

You took a moment to prepare yourself before you were looking at him through hooded eyes. The brim of his hat cast a shade over his face, and you could only see the hungry glint in his eyes matched with a predatory smirk. Oh, he was loving this, and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze, heat pooling in your belly that was quickly doused by shame.

“Can I please have some water? Please? I- I’m really thirsty and… just a bit. Please.”

His grin grew more as you begged, and you sagged with relief when he brought the canteen closer, no longer dangling over the back of the couch. “See, that ain’t so hard now, was it?”

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologizing, for what, you weren’t quite sure. You weren’t too upset about it, though, especially when he brought the canteen to your lips.

“Head back,” he ordered, and you did, your neck straining at the angle. You swore you heard him groan when you parted your lips, never breaking eye contact with him. The water was disgusting and acidic, but damn if it wasn’t the best thing you’d ever had the pleasure of drinking. He poured it into your mouth, and you desperately swallowed every single drop, the dryness in your mouth and throat instantly being quenched.

But it wasn’t enough, and you couldn’t help the disappointed noise you let out when he ceased the pouring. “More, please,” you found yourself whining, any remnants of shame tossed out the broken window you’d climbed into.

“Manners, Vaultie,” he growled.

“Thank you, thank you,” you repeated like a mantra, and The Ghoul let out a pleased hum. Thirstiness still clung to you like a second skin, but you felt better than you had moments ago. Some of your energy had returned, and you felt like you were no longer in the grasp of death.

“You want more?” He asked, and you immediately nodded.

“Please,” you whispered, and you saw something almost wicked pass over his features.

“Don’t worry,” you felt one of his gloved hands sneak around your back, collecting a handful of hair and tugging, forcing your head back even further. You cried out, a mix of shock and pain. “You’ll get more. Just keep that pretty mouth wide open, just like that.” His normal drawl had turned into an almost rasp, and you shuddered.

You watched as he took a swig for himself, but he didn’t swallow, keeping the water in his mouth. Confused, you closed your mouth, but as soon as you did you felt him pull hard at your hair. Obediently, you opened it back up, a shaky exhale leaving you.

If he had a nose, it would be currently pressed up against yours. He adjusted so that he was practically towering above you, and man did the angle kill your neck, but you didn’t dare complain. With increasingly widening eyes, you watched as he slotted his mouth above yours, not touching, but you could still feel the heat from his body.

You nearly flinched when you felt the water hit your mouth, fighting every instinct that told you to shut it. The act was filthy and degrading, but you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t getting you incredibly aroused. Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming suffocating; it hadn’t even felt this bad when you were outside.

As he sat back on to the couch, his lips glistened in the dim light, stray remnants of water still coating them. As you held the water in your mouth, he frowned disapprovingly. “Do I gotta spell it out for ya?” He shifted forward again, grasping your face. “Swallow.”

When you did, he let go, tapping your cheek lightly. “Atta girl,” he cooed, and you sputtered, cheeks growing warm. Shifting where you sat, you tried and failed to relieve some of the tension in you. You thought you were subtle in your movements, but his sharpshooter gaze locked onto it immediately.

He laughed, a mix of surprise and condescension in one. “This gettin’ you turned on? Maybe you ain’t all that innocent, Vaultie.”

You eyed the half-hard tent in front of you. “I’m not the only one,” you grumbled out, and he laughed again.

“I ain’t the one on my knees, sweetheart.” Scoffing, you watched him lean back again. You expected him to say something, do something, but he simply watched you with anticipatorily. Something shifted in the atmosphere, and you realized he was putting the situation in your hands, wordlessly asking you how far you were willing to take this.

You needed this. You needed him, as bewildering as it was for you to admit to yourself.

Desire running deeper than that for water coursed through your veins, and you nodded. “More.” You both knew that you weren’t fully talking about the canteen in his hand.

“Good answer.” Before you could even register, he was gripping your face again. Fingers pressed into your cheeks harshly, opening your mouth back up. Taking another swig, you expected him to repeat what he’d done last time, but you were startled when you felt his lips on yours.

It was a strange kiss, his closed mouth against your open one, but it didn’t stay like that for long. His lips pulled apart, and without needing further prompting you swallowed another precious mouthful of water. You could feel that bastardly smirk against your mouth, and if you were anywhere near being able to create a coherent thought you would’ve said something.

But you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was like you were caught up in some haze, but you were sent out of it when you felt his tongue sweep into your mouth. You’d kissed a few people, sure, but never like this. It elicited a startled noise from you that had him pulling back an inch, and you had to fight yourself to not chase after his lips.

“Never had that before?” He chuckled, and he found your following silence an adequate enough answer. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

He didn’t even give you a moment to react before he was crashing his mouth back against yours. It was all tongue and teeth and it had you moaning, and you felt the grip on your face tighten. Your head spun, and you tried to keep up with his movements, but you ended up just letting him take over, moving his mouth against your however he’d like.

He nipped at your lower lip with his teeth, and your hands shot out, no longer able to just keep them idly in your lap. You found purchase on his thighs, the sinewy muscles tensing under your touch. But the grip on your face tightened more, almost incredibly painful. Your eyes shot open, alarmed, and a pained noise left you.

He had pulled away again, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths, but he was glaring down at you. “You better watch those hands.” Even though his voice was husky, the threat didn’t make you any less terrified.

You were confused, and you watched his eyes trail down to his lap where your hands were. Unable to move your head, you had to strain your own eyes to look down, and sheer dread washed over you when you saw his gun still in his lap, your hands a mere inch away from it.

“I- I wasn’t… I didn’t… ” you gasped breathlessly. “I didn’t know! I- I’m sorry! Please.” Out of all the times you’d begged and pleaded tonight, this time had to be the most genuine. Immediately retracting your hands back to your lap, you awaited his response tensely. What you failed to notice was the way his eyes darkened as you groveled, his pants growing tighter.

His gaze returned to your face, and out of the corner of your eye you watched as he moved the gun from his lap into his hand. You half expected him to point it at you next, but you let out a very audible sigh of relief when he set it on the couch beside him. It was completely out of your reach now, but he could still easily grab it.

He loosened the grip on your jaw, still holding it, but no longer digging into your flesh painfully. “I won’t stop you next time,” he growled, and it took you a second to register what he was saying: he won’t stop you next time because you’d be dead as soon as you began to reach for it.

You nodded as best you could. “Good,” he’d lost the threatening tone, but his voice was still gravely and raspy. “Now, where was I?” His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you sure they were swollen and shiny. “That’s right.”

Like nothing had happened, he returned to his ministrations, teeth grazing your bottom lip again. You hesitated when you set your hands back on his thighs, gaining more confidence when he didn’t stop you. In fact, he was actively encouraging your explorative touches, a pleased noise rumbling his chest as your fingers trailed up his thighs.

Another swipe of his tongue and a particularly harsh bite had you gripping onto him, barely able to find purchase on the thick material of his pants. You desperately needed air, but he held his grip on your jaw, seemingly unaffected by the issue you were having. Did ghouls need to breathe? It seemed like they didn’t, because he had yet to tear his mouth away for air once as he first kissed you.

As your hands reached his belt, it was then he finally tore away, a groan leaving him. Sucking in as much air as your lungs could handle, you ran your touch across the prominent bulge. You felt the hand on your jaw go lax, falling to his lap. “You gonna take care of that?” He was giving you another out, giving you an opportunity to stop you from doing something you could regret.

Rationally, you knew you should stop here, and pretend like this didn’t just happen. You knew the version of you from the Vault would do that. But this new part of you, exposed to the Wasteland and the savagery of the surface world found that you wanted to continue. Besides, you were probably going to end up getting killed in the next few days; why not have some new experiences before your time was up.

You didn’t respond, you simply began to undo the buckle of his belt. You couldn’t get the thing off of him, so it just rested open on his thighs. “Oh, you’re filthy,” he chuckled, spreading his legs even further apart while leaning back against the couch. “Go on, sweetheart. Let’s see what that mouth’s good for.”

This also wasn’t your first time in a situation like this. You’d only ever done it once, but you apparently weren't too terrible at it, as he frequently requested for a second time, but you always turned him down. You kinda wish you hadn’t now, wishing you had more experience now, but a part of you knew that this was about to be incredibly different from anything you would’ve experienced in the Vault.

With hands that you prayed weren’t incredibly shaky, you pulled down the zipper of his pants. He kept his eyes locked onto you the entire time, darkening even more as the unzipping noise hit his ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, no matter how hard you wanted to. Something about his expression had you locked in, and you shifted again.

“Don’t let me stop ya,” he rested his arms along the backside of the couch, and you realized you’d just been sitting there. Steadying yourself, you slipped your hand into the confines of his pants, underneath the waistband of his briefs. You heard him let out a small hiss when your fingers brushed over his cock, and you desperately wanted to hear him make more noises like that.

It took a bit of maneuvering before he was free, head brushing against his navel. The skin was pocked like the rest of his body, which you were expecting. What you weren’t expecting was how long he was, much longer than your previous encounter.

Before you could let nerves disarm you, you moved closer to him. Bracing your hands back on his thighs, you kissed his tip, and you heard his hiss again. Sneaking your tongue out, you ran it up his length, pressing another kiss when you reached the top. “Don’t tease,” he growled, tangling his gloved fingers back into your hair.

When you took him into your mouth, he let out a noise that sounded like a laugh and a sigh, the grip on your hair growing painful. It didn’t deter you, rather it drove you wild, and you took as much of him as you could. When he hit the back of your throat, you had to stifle the urge to gag. Taking the rest of him in one of your hands, you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks.

You couldn’t see the way his eyes locked onto his cock leaving and entering your mouth, but you could hear the small grunts he made in tandem with the movement of your head. He kept his hips surprisingly still, but his fingers were somehow getting even tighter, as if all of his restraint was being poured into his grip, and it was on the verge of snapping. “You can take more.” It wasn’t a question, and you felt his press down on the back of your head when you had him fully in you.

Startled, you tried to make a noise, but the vibrations just went straight to his cock. He groaned, louder this time, and he didn't let up. “Relax,” he bit out, and you tried. You really did. Taking as deep a breath you could, you forced your muscles to relax, your hands going back to his thighs. Tears sprung to your eyes as you really tried not to gag, but a garbled sound still left you as he pushed himself further down your throat.

“Fuck,” he drawled out, “just like that.” It felt like five years had passed before your nose was finally pressed into his skin, his cock fully sheathed down your throat. Tears dripped onto his skin, but he didn’t seem to feel them. Your scalp stung as he lifted your head up, and you took in a shuddering breath, your lungs screaming for air.

You didn’t have a long reprieve before he was shoving you back down again, and even though the intrusion wasn’t new it still caused you to make an awful noise. It took him pulling you off again for you to realize what he was doing; he was fucking your mouth, using it for his own pleasure like you were just a toy. The realization had you moaning, the discomforts becoming an afterthought as he chased his pleasure, your own growing.

Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming unbearable arousal tightening in your core, and you snuck a hand down between your legs, trying to touch yourself through the thick material. It didn’t help, but you still tried anyway, desperate for any sort of relief. The Ghoul laughed, not letting up the way he moved your head. “Oh, sugar, is suckin’ my cock gettin’ you bothered?”

Your head spun, the new nickname and the crude words making you dizzy, and you let out what you hoped was a confirmatory sound. He only huffed in response, and you could tell that he was starting to get close to his release. His hips had started to buck, albeit slightly, and his groans had turned to unintelligible moans.

He cursed again, and you were barely able to glimpse his head roll back, hat hitting the ground. He didn’t care, continuing to fuck your face, and you desperately ground against your hand. “So good, fuck,” he panted, and you let your eyes flutter shut.

They shot open when you heard him moan your name, but you had little time to appreciate the way he said it. He pressed down hard on the back of your head, holding you there, your nose pressed flat against his body. A plethora of curses fell from his lips as he came, his cum spurting deep down your throat.

He let go, hands falling to his sides, and you removed yourself, coughing and gasping for air. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your jaw aching, but it was the best pain you’d ever felt. He stared at you with lustful eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Holy shit. You were tired, but you wanted more. But you weren’t expecting him to do anything else tonight. This wasn’t a partnership; he’d gotten his release. You’d need to deal with it on your own.

So caught up in what you were expecting, you gasped when you felt his lips graze the corner of your mouth. His hand cradled your cheek, leather growing damp, and you felt his lips brush the tears that had fallen on the other cheek. You realized he was licking your tears away, and when he registered that you noticed he chuckled, muttering something about not wanting to waste water. You let out an airy chuckle in return, still not fully wrapping your head about what had and what is transpiring.

“Guess one good thing came from that mouth,” he teased, referencing his earlier threat. He tugged you up, and you stood with knees shaking like a fawn. You’re certain you looked like a mess but he either didn’t care or really enjoyed it.

You really had no idea what was going to happen next. You observed him with wide eyes, and you couldn’t help the bewildered look when you saw him stroking himself, still rock hard like he hadn’t just come. He chuckled when he saw what had caused you to react. “One good thing ‘bout bein’ a ghoul,” he rasped. “Stamina.”

His own raked down your body, honing in on the way your thighs pressed together, and they flicked back up to your own. “Take it off.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, the zipper on your suit quickly becoming undone. Even though the air was hot, it still felt nice against your hot skin. He didn’t blink as you undressed, eyes clocking in every new inch of exposed skin. Tugging it down your shoulders and off your arms, you let it fall to the ground, the material pooling at your ankles.

Left in only your bra and underwear, you kicked the Vault-Tec suit off your feet, and you stood there, unsure. “All of it,” he continued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

As you reached for the clasp of your bra, you watched him lean forward slightly, eyes watching you like you were the most delicious meal he was about to devour. Tossing the garment beside you, you reached for the waistband of your underwear. He raised a hand, making your halt, your fingers barely looped under the band.

With two fingers, he gestured you forward, grinning when you complied easily. His hands batted away your own, and you felt he begin to peel it away himself. He was almost eye level with your navel, and you felt his breath caress your stomach. It was like he was unwrapping a present, the way he ripped it down your legs, and it fell around your ankles like the suit.

You were hardly able to kick it away before he pulled you onto his lap, your hands bracing against his still clothed chest. The couch made a very audible noise, on the virgo of collapsing, but neither of you seemed to hear it. One of your legs straddled his thigh, your bare center pressed against his pants, no doubt soaking the material.

“You’re wearing too much,” you found yourself commenting, and you felt him chuckle. He took his hands off your waist, holding them in front of you so you could clearly see him take off his gloves, tossing them by his gun. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, realizing that that was all you were getting from him.

You weren’t complaining, though, when his bare hands touched you for the first time. Along with the marred skin, his fingers were calloused, years and years of harsh life, fighting, and shooting making them so, but they were the best things you’d ever felt touch your soft skin.

He seemed to be having similar thoughts, humming appreciated as he felt your body, fingers dancing up your sides. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, and you sighed as he continued his exploration upwards. Worn hands cupped your breasts, fingers toying with your perked nipples, and you unconsciously pressed your chest forward. “Look at ya,” it felt like he was mostly talking to himself, “you ain’t gotta mark on your body.” You felt his mouth graze your breasts, lips ticking you as he spoke.

You jumped when his teeth made contact with the delicate skin of the top of your breasts, and he chuckled. Moving lower, he took one of your nipples between his lips, his hand making sure the other one was receiving the same attention. His tongue flicked, sucked, and the occasional nip had you crying out, jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. One of your hands settled on the back of his head, the other sneaking back between your legs.

With that surprising speed, he caught your wrist, not even tearing his mouth away from you. You let out a noise of complaint, and you could feel him grin. His hands left your breasts, settling back on your waist, and you felt him begin to rock you back and forth on his thigh. With every rock, your clit ground against the tensed muscle, and you let out small moans, small waves of pleasure crashed through your body.

When he felt you begin to move on your own, he let go, returning his touch to your breasts, playing and massaging them as you got off on his thigh. His mouth trailed up your body, leaving a trail of small kisses and ginger bites, your once smooth skin now slightly indented. Having been worked up for a while, you felt that you were growing close to release, his ministrations bringing you closer.

He was at your neck now, and he bit particularly hard at the thick tendon there. He laughed when he felt your hips begin to rock harder, and you felt his tongue smooth over the bitten skin. “I-” you tried to speak, but an airy whine from your throat cut you off. Your thighs were trembling, and you could feel the damp patch that had formed on his pants, but you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed right now.

“You close, sugar?” Not trusting your voice, you nodded instead. “Fuck, yeah you are. C’mon, let me feel ya,” he groaned, mouthing at your neck.

It only took a few more rolls of your hips before you came, his name tumbling from your lips as a loud cry, pleasure igniting all your nerves. Your stubbed nails dug into the back of his head, and he growled. Your whole body was trembling as you rode out your high, only ceasing the movement of your hips when it became too overstimulating.

A shocked laugh left you, and you slumped forward. That seemed to be the last straw for the couch, the furniture collapsing beneath the two of you. It nearly caused to tumble off his lap, but you felt his hands secure under your thighs. He stood, holding you like you weighed nothing, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his body.

He eased you to the ground, the sand digging uncomfortably into your skin, causing your back to arch off the ground to avoid feeling it. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out when you watched him shrug off his jacket, tucking behind you wordlessly. These small glimpses of humanity you’d seen from the Ghoul, like when he saw the crib, or when he gave you a way lead you to believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as you originally believed him to be.

Well, you still hated him, and you were still his captive, but you realized that he wasn’t a complete monster. It was moments like this, where those high walls he’d built to survive in the Wasteland began to crumble, and you could see glimpses of the man you assumed he once was.

He didn’t give you much time to reflect, though, because his lips were crashing against yours, and all thoughts disappeared. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his cock pressed against your folds. He didn’t press in though, and you whined against his lips, moving your hips as best you could to try and get him to move. “Whatdya want, sweetheart?” He murmured, nestling his head in the crook of your neck.

“You,” you gasped out.

“I’m right here,” he chuckled a bit, and he still didn’t move.

Groaning, you ground against him again, trying to get him to just push himself into you. He groaned, yet he still didn’t move, his resolve stronger than you anticipated. “Fuck me, please,” you choked out, and you could see him smirk in satisfaction.

He didn’t respond, and you felt him press into you, sheathing into you with a single thrust. Similar noises of pleasure escaped both your mouths, and your fingers wove into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to find something to grip onto. He stretched you out so well, and you gasped when you felt his hips press against you. He was so deep inside of you, father than any other person you’d taken to bed, and it overwhelmed you in all the best ways.

“Sugar, you feel incredible.” You babbled something in response, and you hated how proud he looked. He didn’t give you time to adjust before he was setting a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours. The sound of skin on skin and your cries of his name filled the room, and you swore if you gripped any tighter on his shirt that it would rip.

Small puffs of air tickled your neck with every thrust, whispers of your name hidden in the gasps. Fingers dug into your waist, most likely going to leave marks in the morning, your once smooth skin littered with marks of him. You couldn't see what your body looked like right now, but you had a pretty damn good idea, and the picture you visualized in your mind had you clenching around him, causing him to falter, albeit it only for a second.

Despite the slight overstimulation you were feeling, you could feel another orgasm begin to form, slowly but surely. Letting go of his shirt, you grasped at his face, pulling back up for another breath-stealing kiss. You were so caught up in the way he continued to thrust into you and the way his mouth slotted against yours that you failed to notice the way one of his hands left your waist.

You broke the kiss with a startled yet pleased nosed when you felt his fingers begin to work at your clit, rubbing fervent circles into the sensitive nerves in time with the thrusts of his hips. “Cum on my cock, sweetheart. C’mon,” he groaned out, and your head hit the ground, barely softened by the jacket and the sand.

His name had turned into soft pants, unable to form a coherent thought as he relentlessly fucked you. The added stimulation brought you closer to the edge, and you tried to let him know you were getting close. “Go ‘head, lemme feel ya,” his accent had been cranked up to a hundred, and in any other situation you would’ve found that funny.

With a final cry of his name, you came again, your vision going white as you temporarily spaced out, the pleasure too overwhelming. When you came to, he had pulled out of you, leaving you empty and shivering. You watched as he stroked himself a few more times before he came all over your stomach.

It was only the sound of breathing in the room now, both of you just staring at each other as you calmed. Relaxing on his coat, you watched as he stood, tucking himself back into his pants as he did. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing, jumping when you felt a cloth on your stomach, wiping away his release from your skin.

He didn’t say anything, tossing the cloth to one of the corners of the room when he was done. He placed your clothing beside you, before sitting and resting against the collapsed remnants of the couch, head rolling back.

Groaning, you broke free from the post-orgasmic haze you were in, sitting upright. Both pleasure and pain still lingered in your muscles, making your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Slipping on your undergarments, the dampened fabric of your underwear was incredibly uncomfortable, but you gritted your teeth and ignored it. After putting on your bra, you debated putting on the Vault-Tec suit, but the idea of putting it back on made our overheated body cry.

The Ghoul watched you as you redressed, thinly veiled desire and interest flicking in those eyes. You were now sitting upright on his jacket, and you got up onto your knees, freeing the garment and holding it in your arms. Scooting towards him, you held it out to him with shaking arms, almost like a peace offering. His eyes didn’t leave you as he took it, setting it beside him.

Before you could decide that it was a bad idea, you sat down next to him, shoulders brushing. If he was surprised, he did a good job of hiding. Exhaustion returned, and you felt your eyes begin to flutter close, head bobbing as you struggled to stay awake.

It was your turn to be surprised when you felt him pull your shoulder down, resting your head in his lap. You were even more surprised when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the material thin enough to not overheat you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes, but he avoided your gaze, staring at the half-standing wall in front of him.

“Rest. We’re leavin’ at sunrise.” His voice was hoarse, back to that commanding tone from earlier.

Getting as comfortable as you could, you let your eyes shut, sleep beckoning you. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, but as you felt his fingers comb delicately through your hair, you knew that he was no longer going to be following his original plan for you.

#fallout #the ghoul #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader

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tgmsunmontue · 3 days

Text

Once Upon a Time in 1996... 7/7

IceMav TimeLoop. Maverick wakes up to a great day. Then it all turns to shit. Explicit.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

Pete rolls out of bed, doesn’t bother dwelling on the now over-powering sense of muscle memory wanting to find Tom and sink into the space beside him. He’s used to his day starting apart from him, has come to enjoy the anticipation of seeing him again soon. Has forced himself to learn to enjoy the anticipation, knows he needs to start his day with Carole and Bradley before giving in to his desire to see Tom. He doesn’t know how long it’s been now, he stopped keeping count after one hundred, but he’s got a rough idea that it’s been months. Many months. He’s learnt so much about Bradley and Carole and Tom, but also himself. The monotony and routine of day-to-day life with a family that always terrified him before is now his new normal.

He gets dressed quickly, knows he will be showering before lunch for other reasons if he gets his way. He quickly heads into the kitchen, starts the coffee machine and makes toast for Bradley, puts the bottle of wine away and puts the tissues within easy reach. Then he goes back upstairs and walks down the hall, knocks on Bradley’s door and pushes it open. Bradley is up and dressed but busy reading a book and he looks up guiltily at being caught out. Pete can’t help but smile, wondering what kind of kid feels guilty for being caught reading.

“Hey Bradley. Brought you some breakfast. I need to talk to you…”

He knows now that Bradley has seen letters from the hospital, knows that his mom is sick. He knows it’s cancer. They’ve had the following conversation dozens of times, Bradley isn’t unaware of what his mom is doing today but is definitely an expert in hiding the fact. He is such a risk-averse kid, doesn’t want to rock the boat or upset the adults in his life and he knows he probably worries about being left behind but he knows he can allay those fears almost immediately.

“Hey Mav…”

He sits down on the edge of Bradley’s bed, rubs his hands together and smiles softly, sadly.

“Hey. Wanted to talk to you about something pretty important.”

“Okay. What?”

“Well, you know how your mom is sick, well, I wanted to ask you how you would feel about me adopting you, incase anything happens to her.”

“Oh. She’s really sick huh?”

Pete nods.

“Yeah, she is. I don’t know all the details, but she has an appointment this morning. I know you saw a letter from the hospital and have been waiting for your mom to tell you. But she’s been wanting to protect you from having to worry about all of this.”

“I’m not a kid! She can tell me stuff!”

“Oh Bradley, she knows she can. She just loves you and wants to protect you. But she can’t against this, and that hurts her more than anything else in the world.”

“I just want to be there for her like she’s always been there for me…”

“Yeah, that’s amazing of you Bradley. But I’m pretty sure that’s a hard idea for your mom to accept. I think you wanting to be there for her is amazing though, so even if she says no, I am still so proud of you okay?”

“Oh… thanks Mav.”

“You’re welcome kiddo.”

“And it’s yes by the way. About wanting to be adopted by you. I’d like that. A lot.”

“So would I. I love you kiddo.”

“Love you too Mav…”

He pulls Bradley into a hug and holds him for a good minute or so before loosening his grip and pulling away a bit.

“Right, so she has this hospital appointment and I’m going to try and convince her to take you with her okay? So you can be there for her like you want to be. Afterwards go for a walk along the pier and get an ice-cream. Here, here’s a twenty. You treat your mom okay?”

Bradley nods, and Pete can tell he’s close to tears, wants to tell him it’s okay to cry, because they’ve cried together a lot, and he knows they will in the future if they ever get a tomorrow, but he’s done enough for today, knows Bradley will be okay, feels reassured that things might suck, but he’ll be okay.

“Just… stay in here until I’ve talked to your mom okay?”

“Okay.”

“Read your book.”

That gets him a grin and he ruffles his hair, laughs as Bradley tries to bat his hand away and he closes the door behind him, quickly going and turning the coffee machine on, because this is definitely a conversation that relies heavily on the consumption of coffee. He has his conversation with Carole down to a fine art, a script that runs almost automatically through his head without him even thinking about it. Her response, her easy acceptance of his weird living-hell, it’s both the hardest and easiest conversation of the day.

He goes back upstairs and knocks on her door, knows not to just open it, that she doesn’t want to be caught crying, not yet, not if she’s going to agree to Bradley going with her. She needs to have coffee first. To feel more settled and to have already heard the bad news from him. The fact that he can prepare her, that she can begin to process it and then face the inevitable of telling Bradley.

“Hey Carole, I need to talk to you. I’ll make you a coffee… ”

“I’ll be right there.”

“No rush…”

He knows she’ll rush a little anyway, her mind already thinking about where she needs to go, and he knows it’s partly due to not knowing for certain that she’s hating right now. They’ve talked about it extensively and right now he probably knows how she’s feeling better than she does. She enters the kitchen and he passes her coffee, made perfectly after fuck knows how many days of practice and she takes a sip, clearly waiting for him to talk, seeing as he’s the one who told her not ever ten minutes ago that he wanted to talk. However he waits for her to be halfway through the first cup, glances at the time and he’s ahead of schedule.

“You okay Maverick?”

He laughs under his breath but nods, because despite everything her attentiveness still makes him feel incredibly lucky to count her as one of his closest friends.

“Yeah. I’m… I’m okay. Mostly. Right. So this might sound crazy, but I’ve told you this well over three hundred times now and in none of those have you ever not believed me,” Pete starts, and sure enough her eyes are wide, eyebrows hidden by her fringe but he’s used to this expression now.

“I’m stuck in a time loop. You have a hospital appointment about your cancer and the news is not good. Really not good. Six months, maybe a year. But I think you know that already. We skipped the appointment a good chunk of days. Got drunk a few others. I went with you to the appointment about a hundred times. We’ve discussed how much it sucks every single day…”

She’s finished the cup and he silently pours her a second one, adding the creamer and sugar before handing it back.

“It does suck,” she says, voice catching wetly and he nods silently, leaves her a few beats to think, to let the tears trickle silently, and this is why he has Bradley stay in his room. There had been yelling the one time, Bradley angry and Carole upset. It had only happened the once. He doesn’t like them yelling at each other.

“It does. I wish I could tell you something different.”

She wipes at her eyes, sniffs and he slides in close and wraps his arms around her and hugs her tightly.

“What I can tell you is that you can stop worrying about telling Bradley. He already knows. He saw a letter you’d left out. For a little while now Bradley has been going to the appointment with you.”

“What?”

“He already knows you’re sick,” Pete repeats, continuing to hold her. “He’s been waiting for you to tell him.”

He remembers the first time he’d figured out that Bradley already knew, it had assuaged his guilt immediately. He knew Bradley was smart. It had also reminded him that as much as he considered Carole and Bradley his, when he’s away on deployment, they’re a little duo, happily going about their day-to-day lives, always there for each other. It feels right that they’re together through this as well.

“He has a lot of questions, questions the doctor can answer. He’s been reading up. He wants to be there for you like you’re there for him all those times while he was growing up.”

“He’s still growing up Maverick.”

“Yeah, he is and he’s turning out to be this amazing caring young man who wants to be there for his mom when she receives this terrible news. You’ve raised such an amazing person Carole…”

“We’ve raised an amazing person you mean…”

“I don’t feel like I can take the credit, but I won’t argue with you. He wants to be there with you. For you.”

She starts crying again and this is fine, this is how it’s gone before, when she realizes that Bradley is mature enough to make his own decisions and agrees to let him go with her. He just needs to tell her one more thing.

“Also, I asked him if he’d mind if I adopted him. He said yes. We’ll sort out a lawyer if we ever get out of this time loop. Wasn’t a fan of the one time we actually made it to a lawyer.”

“Are you sure it’s okay that he comes with me?” Carole asks, and he’s glad that today that is her question, rather than what happened with the lawyer.

“More than okay. He already knows and it’s going to be scary for him, but it’ll be scary for you too and you’ll be there together. It always works out well at the end of the day…”

“What about you though, you don’t want to come with us as well?”

Pete licks his lips and pulls away, because this is always the kicker, the bit that makes her tip over into knowing he’s actually in a time loop and he’s come to enjoy her delighted surprise rather than be insulted by it. He was a little blind before, he can admit it now.

“No. I have another conversation I need to go have. This last thing, which I think is always what makes you realize I’m serious. I know Ice is in love with me. That he’s been in love with me for years. And god, I love him so much it’s ridiculous.”

“Oh my god! You’re going to go and talk to him?”

Like every single other day Carole is overjoyed that he’s realized he’s in love with Tom. That his happiness ranks above her own issues tells him how much she loves him and he grabs her and hugs her, his grin wild as he just lets happiness wash through him.

“Hey Carole, I love you.”

“Love you too Maverick… of my god. Iceman is going to be blindsided. Does he know how you feel? Of course not, you haven’t told him. Oh my god I wish I could be a fly on the wall when you tell him!”

“Uh… you wouldn’t want to be a fly on the wall.”

“Why not?”

“You want a show with your declarations of love?”

“Oh really now? How many times has that happened?”

Pete blushes, because he’s had plenty of sex, nearly daily, sometimes multiple times a day, and Carole is laughing so much she has tears in her eyes but they’re tears of happiness and Pete doesn’t care if she’s laughing at him.

“Oh Maverick, that’s amazing. I needed some good news. How does he take it? Well obviously, if there’s a show.”

“Took a few times to get there, learnt about his secret stash of vodka. Drank his bottle of vodka. He… he’s surprised but happy,” Pete decides on, because that’s a pretty tidy summary of his repeated days with Tom. They haven’t progressed past that honeymoon realization, even if he has, his own emotions settling into a bone-deep assuredness that he loves Tom with every fiber of himself.

“So, Bradley and I go to the hospital and you go off and have sex with Iceman. I know what I’d rather be doing…”

Pete coughs, coffee catching in his mouth and Carole is laughing again, eyes crinkled shut and he can’t help but join in.

“We’ll come around this afternoon.”

“Don’t drag yourselves out of bed on my part,” Carole says, still sniggering with amusement and Pete shakes his head.

“He’ll want to see you and Bradley.”

“Okay, well then. I guess I better get going. Has Bradley had breakfast?”

“I took him toast.”

“Of course you did.”

“He’s reading, told him to stay in his room until I came and got him.”

“Thanks Maverick.”

He shrugs, because he feels like he’s only getting everything right because he’s had so much practice at it.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Of course.”

He leaves them to it then, doesn’t need to hang around to watch them leave. He eyes the grass as he walks to his bike and he knows it’s not any longer than it was yesterday but it still annoys him. He can’t rush to Tom’s, he’s out running and he’s learnt to time talking with Ice for after his morning run. Tom has too much nervous energy that tips over into annoyance if he hasn’t gone for a run, although there were a couple of times when Pete managed to distract him with sex, but the best days are the ones where he’s waiting for Tom and gets to see him run toward him dripping sweat. He’s quite a fan of the sight.

Sure enough there’s no answer at the front door, which he knew would be the case but he also can’t stop the habit of checking just in case. He settles on the porch stairs, stretches out his legs and leans back, knows that the pose is a little provocative which is exactly why he does it, times it for just as he spies Ice running toward him and he tips his head back, eyes closed and soaks up the warmth from the early morning sun. He hears the rhythm of Tom’s pace falter as he sees him and he cracks an eye open, smiles slowly and resists the urge to just go over and rub himself all over him.

“Hey Tom…”

He loves the surprised delight on his face when he hears Pete call him Tom.

“Maverick… what are you doing here?”

“Well, I need to talk to you,” Pete starts, because he’s learnt after all the times of doing this, that fast and to the point are best. Ripping off a band aid. In all the times he’s done this Ice has never reacted violently, sometimes he’s gotten angry, thinking Pete was making fun of him, but he’s learnt exactly how to do this now. He stands up, the one step giving him the height advantage and with it he can see the way Tom’s eyes track over his facial features, dipping to his mouth and he licks his lips automatically.

“What do you need to talk about so urgently that it couldn’t wait until tonight?”

“Well, I want to spend more of today with you than just tonight. Also, what I really need to tell you is that I love you. So much. And for a long time. I don’t even know how long any more,” Pete says, because he knows he’s over three hundred days, but has given up trying to keep track for his own sanity. “I know you’ve been making yourself sick, smoking too many cigarettes, thinking about telling me. How I might react. Well. It’s better than your best-case scenario, because I love you, and I want to be with you, and I know it’s not going to be easy. Sometimes you’re going to want to kill me. I’m going to drive you crazy. But I’ll always love you…”

He holds his breath then, because there’s four different ways that Tom usually reacts. Disbelief; have you been drinking? Shock; oh my god, you can’t be serious. Anger; don’t make fun of me Pete. I think you should leave. And his personal favorite, terrified hope, which is never words but actions, trembling hands reaching out to touch him. He takes one in his hand now, tugs him up the steps and nods toward the door and watches as Tom’s hand shakes a little as he slides the key in.

“Come on, let’s talk some more…”

Of course, once the door is shut he doesn’t let a single moment pass, simply lets himself give in and presses himself against Tom and leans up to kiss him, lets his hands rest on his waist, but he doesn’t make any effort to hide his attraction or the fact that he very clearly wants to be there, here, with him. He also knows it stops Tom from doubting him, from overthinking his declaration.

“Maverick… what…”

“Today has been a very long day…”

“It’s not even nine-thirty.”

He laughs, kisses him again, doesn’t want to ruin this time with Tom yet, knows he can and will tell him later about Carole, but they have plenty of time and he also knows that Tom is going to want a shower, wants to wash off the sweat of his run and Pete wants to help him. The talk about the time loop goes a whole lot better when Ice is one orgasm in, like he takes Pete’s declaration of being in love with him much better after he’s been for a run. It’s been a lot of trial and error, but he’s learnt these things now.

“Come on… shower.”

“What?”

“You want a shower but are feeling like a bad host because you don’t want to leave me alone. Solution is to have me shower with you…”

Every.

Single.

Time.

He grins at the expression on Tom’s face, like Pete has spoken a foreign language that he feels like he should know but still can’t understand. He helps the translation by walking toward the shower and stripping off his clothes as he goes, looking over his shoulder with an expectant look and sure enough Tom catches on and scrambles to follow. He leaves a trail of clothes, can sense when Tom enters his personal space because he can feel the heat of his body, still elevated from his run. He turns the shower on and grabs towels, before turning to face Tom who is still standing there, fully dressed and watching him silently.

“I know this seems fast for you… just, trust me?”

He knows Tom trusts him with his life, but every day he gets to watch this decision as Tom trusts him with something more. His heart, his vulnerability, his fears… Pete will do his utmost to never make that trust falter, not in this. In them. He waits for the short sharp nod of Tom’s head and then tugs at his t-shirt. Tom gets the message and immediately strips it off over his head, his hands hesitating briefly at the band of his shorts but Pete knows this now, strips off his own underwear, unafraid of going first.

He lets his fingers ghost over Tom’s skin, damp with sweat and the raising humidity of the bathroom and he pushes him toward the shower, but not before placing a soft kiss to the edge of his mouth, pleased when he feels the twitch of a smile and he gives him a few seconds, just enjoys the view before Tom realizes he’s being watched and reaches for him, hand still trembling slightly and Pete squeezes it reassuringly. Then he’s under the spray of water and he sinks to his knees, smirks at the expression on Tom’s face which is sheer wonder and disbelief. He knows that this is one of Tom’s fantasies, and okay, it’s not the locker room, but he’s still on his knees in the shower.

“Oh my god… Pete.”

He bites his lip as he grins, meeting Tom’s eyes. He runs his hands over Tom’s thighs, coarse hair under the pads of his fingers tips and he runs his fingers over the swelling flesh of Tom’s cock before he places a gentle kiss to the head. Smirks when he feels Tom’s hips jerk with little to no control and he knows better than to wish to be able to do this every day for the rest of his life, considering his current issues, but god he has hopes for his future.

He knows this is going to be over quickly. He knows exactly how to get Tom off as quickly and efficiently as possible, and while he’s not aiming for a personal best today, he’s not going to waste time either. Round two is always much more enjoyable. He licks his lips and lets a little of the shower water gather in his mouth before he then sucks Tom’s cock into his mouth, three small sucks in quick succession, head bobbing as he feels Tom getting harder, feels the muscles under his fingers flex in an effort to not buck wildly.

He massages his thighs, imitates a rolling motion and Tom latches on, his body slowly rocking forward and back and Pete relaxes, lets him slowly and shallowly fuck his mouth, lets one of his hands drift to Tom’s balls, savors the muffled groan Tom makes around the fleshy part of his hand that he’s shoved in his mouth. He’ll have time to make Tom loud later, make him forget to hold himself back. He presses a knuckle to his perinium, massages it, gently, sucks at Tom’s cock as he rocks into his mouth and Pete moans, his own erection heavy between his thighs but so far neglected. He can wait. His body might not think he’s gotten off, but his mind knows and if he can holdout it will be amazing. There’s nothing but the sound of water, gasp-y breaths and skin moving slickly on skin, moan and groans echoing around the confined space, his own name punched out of Tom every so often and then he feels every muscle under his hands tense up and then he’s swallowing, Tom coming with a shudder and a painful sounding whine, his fingers resting softly on Pete’s head before pulling back.

Pete stands, his knees and jaw both aching but in the best ways and he swallows a mouthful of shower water and then pulls Tom down into a kiss, knows Tom’s brain is still throwing up disbelief with every second thought.

“Love you,” Pete says, knowing Tom needs to hear it again, needs to know that this isn’t just something sexual.

“I… I love you too. I. You… you’re really good at that.”

“Mmm. Come on. Finish washing yourself. I need to get clean as well, then I want to get you into bed.”

He watches as Tom’s Adam’s apple works soundlessly and he wraps his arms around Tom’s waist, presses a kiss to his bicep and presses his erection against his thigh. Tom’s hand goes to it, wraps around it tentatively and Pete’s reminded of how inexperienced Tom is now, compared to him with his hundreds of days’ worth of experience.

“No rush, but I want you to fuck me.”

Tom makes an inarticulate sound and Pete ducks his face to hide a grin, because he knows what he wants and he knows now how easy Tom is for him, that he doesn’t even have to really ask before Tom will give him anything within his power. He can’t believe he missed it for so many years. They make out, slow and exploratory and he let’s Tom take his time, savors the sensations the gentle finger elicit and wonders if he’ll get to have Tom fuck him with familiarity, be a little rough with him, not be so gentle like Pete is a gentle precious gift. Not that he’s complaining, but he wants that. Wants everything.

They move to the bedroom and he makes Tom lie down in the middle of the bed, pretty much lies on top of him like a weird body-shaped blanket and continues to run his hands over him, rocks his body against him and lets him feel how turned on he is, knows he finds it reassuring and he’ll tell him later that it’s all because of him. That Pete wouldn’t be like this with anyone else, not anymore.

“How are you feeling?” Pete asks, because there’s a couple of variable answers to this question as well, none of them bad though, nothing he can’t course-correct.

“Good… so good.”

“Good. Want to tell you something. It’s not as important as me telling you I love you, but there are a couple of things which are pretty significant, and one is definitely tied to the fact that I know you love me and have done for a long time. And that you keep a bottle of vodka in your freezer for when you just can’t bear it anymore…”

“What are you talking about?”

“This is where I need you to trust me. I’m in a time loop and am stuck in this day and have been for a very long time.”

He’s straddling Tom’s thighs, hands resting on his chest, staring down at him and Pete knows his expression is deadly serious, has to be if Tom is going to believe him.

“A long day. You said it had been a very long day.”

“Yeah. The first few days were a bit messy, I was dealing with something else and didn’t take your coming out with quite the grace I would have liked. Plus you never knew about me sleeping with men as well as women.”

“Maverick…”

“Sorry, I’m usually better at this part. I’m in a time loop and every day I come over here and get to tell you that I love you, that I feel the same way about you. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before, but I see it now…”

“A time loop…”

“Yep.”

“Why should I believe you?”

Pete grins then, because this is one of his favorite bits and he slides his body against Tom’s, quirks an eyebrow.

“Because you’ve told me all your fantasies. Wasn’t a coincidence that I gave you a blowjob in the shower. And I know you want to spank me next time I do something stupid. I know who you’ve had sex with… hundreds of days with you and I want hundreds more.”

He would of course like hundreds of different ones, but he’s not going to bring that into their conversation right now, wants Tom to hear and realize the truth of what he’s saying.

“Is that why you’re…”

“So good in bed? Well, I probably know your body better than I know my own now.”

“How…”

“I have no idea. But one time I said I felt bad that I got to remember all our firsts and you just said I was racking up the flight hours and could show you all the tricks…”

Tom quirks an eyebrow.

“That does sound like me.”

Pete grins and leans down to kiss him, feels one of Tom’s hands grasp an ass cheek and squeeze and he knows they’re going to be alright. For today.

In the beginning he’d mixed it up every time they had sex, knowing that he’d get to start afresh, just making sure it was always good for both of them in case tomorrow did arrive. There have been some truly hilarious moments together, and some not great awkward moments because sex is messy and bodies can be inconvenient things. However his favorite is riding Tom, watching his face as he pushes into Pete for the first time.

“Oh my god you feel good… Gorgeous.”

“Lots of practice. With you.”

“Think that’s a good thing, don’t like the idea of you with anyone else.”

Pete smirks, because that isn’t a surprise either, Tom wanting to lay claim and ensure Pete knows it. Tom’s hands won’t stop moving, touching everywhere they can reach and Pete leans down so they can kiss easily and enjoys the shift of Tom’s body under him, cock in him and he groans appreciatively. Rocks his hips a little to repeat the motion and yeah, feels good.

“You like this?”

“Yeah. Yeah I like it. So do you by the way…”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You look beautiful stretched around my dick.”

Tom’s hips jerk then, and he presses into it, can’t help the grin, nips at the sensitive skin of Tom’s throat and kisses him again before sitting back up and raising off Tom’s cock before sinking back down, feeling smug at the broken sounds Tom makes.

“Fuck… Pete.”

“Yeah, come on. Want to hear you…”

He’s been hard or semi-hard for over an hour, his body reaching a level of arousal where it just simmers away while he waits for Tom. His delayed gratification is worth waiting for every time, something he’d never thought was worthwhile before. Now the anticipation just winds him tighter and higher and the sounds their bodies are making, adding to it all. Tom is panting, his eyes not leaving Pete’s body, tracking his facial expressions, but sliding down his body to his cock. His hands are scrambling for the lube, then a cool slick hand is wrapped around his own dick, and he lets out a shout.

“Pete… come on Pete.”

His thighs are burning, knees tender from kneeling on the hard tiles, his stomach tense with curled-tight pleasure aching to be released. His entire body feels electrified, alight with energy but tinged with a side of pain which he knows how to ignore. Their bodies are shifting against each other, both chasing their own release and he wraps his hand around Tom’s, encourages his hand to go harder, faster and then he’s coming, breath punched out of him and his eyes squeeze shut despite him willing himself to keep them open so he can watch Tom.

He can watch him now though, mouth fallen open, eyes almost black with how wide his pupils are blown and he doesn’t even resist the urge to reach for his mouth with a couple of his fingers, a little come on them and then Tom is sucking them into his mouth, fingers of both hands suddenly gripping so tightly to Pete’s thighs he’s going to have bruises tomorrow. If he gets tomorrow. He pushes the thought away and enjoys the moment, leans down again for a kiss, ignores the cooling come now being smeared between them, swallows Tom’s whimper with his own mouth as his body tightens and Tom comes, body shaking.

Pete lets him enjoy the afterglow for a few minutes, but reaches for the condom as Tom’s cock softens and slips out and he kisses him through it all, doesn’t let the body contact break. Then he bullies Tom into having another shower, ignores his grumbling about wasting water and Pete grumbles back that showering together will actually save water, which always makes him flush with pleasure and Pete knows he’s thinking about the blowjob.

He still has to tell Tom about Carole, and he doesn’t want to tell him in bed, or in the shower, not with the memories he wants those places to have for them, so he tells Tom he wants a coffee, maybe a snack to keep his energy up which gets him an eyeroll but it’s affectionate and when he kisses Tom on the cheek he delights in the shy surprise. Once they’re seated at the table, no romantic dinner evidence in sight he rests his feet alongside Tom’s.

“So there’s still something else I need to tell you.”

“Something else?” Tom asks, expression on his face disbelieving and he wishes he didn’t have to do this part, but the few times he’s not told Tom he’d simply felt physically sick about keeping it from him.

“Yeah. Not good news this time. Carole is sick. Cancer. She has six months, maybe a year.”

“What? Where is she?”

“At the hospital.”

“You let her go alone?”

“She’s not alone. Bradley is with her. They’re… she knows about the time loop as well. I told her what the doctor is going to say, so she’s prepared for it. Bradley has lots of questions though, and he so desperately wants to be there with her. They’re okay. Trust me. She knows where I am.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’m here with her blessing. She wants us to be happy…” Pete says, remembering her chortling laughter from that morning. “Also I’m going to adopt Bradley.”

“Oh my god… is there anything else?”

Pete huffs then, realizing adopting Bradley is probably another piece of news he should maybe break a bit softer, although Tom doesn’t seem too surprised by it.

“No. Nothing else. Just…” he glances at his watch. “Come on, we have an ice cream date…”

“We do?”

“Yeah…”

He hasn’t done this before, not with Tom as well, but he knows Carole and Bradley go for a walk along the pier and get ice cream after they visit the hospital. Some days after his morning with Tom he’d joined them, leaving Tom to process everything. Today though he wants Tom to come with him, not ready to say goodbye. Hopefully they can catch them and the four of them can do something together, rather than just the usual dinner which has happened so many nights instead.

He lets Tom drive them, spies Carole’s little Honda Civic and points it out, Tom parking not far away. They don’t hold hands as they walk, he learnt the hard way that is a step too far for Tom, too much considering he isn’t in this loop with the sure feeling that there are no consequences to his actions out in public. But he whispers in his ear that he wishes they could and the shy smile he gets back makes him feel warm all over, and the drag of warm fingers over the back of his hand add to that.

Bradley sees them first, his happy yell at seeing Tom after getting back from his deployment reminding Pete that he’s actually been away for months, even if Pete feels like Tom’s been back longer. Bradley tries to convince them he should be allowed more ice cream, but Carole refuses. She’s smiling, even though her eyes are a little red. Tom gives her a bone-crushing hug and Pete distracts Bradley with some boat watching while Carole and Tom quietly murmur to each other, no doubt discussing either the time loop, cancer or the fact that they collectively think he’s finally lost his mind.

Most days he’s either stayed with Tom, or just gone home and waited for Carole and Bradley. For a very long time the days have ended with the four of them having dinner together, although what they eat changes. Tom has always sought him out when he’s left him alone, although some days it’s only an hour while other days it is several hours before he turns up on Pete’s doorstep. Today though he doesn’t want their time together to end and they’re almost back at their cars, so he suggests they get a late lunch before heading to the zoo. Bradley is enthusiastic, suggesting a whole list of potential lunch places.

“The zoo?” Tom asks, leaning against his car.

“Maybe I don’t want our date to end.”

“Our first date has Carole and Bradley tagging along?”

“Our first date today does, but don’t worry, you’ll have me all to yourself later.”

“Mmm. Good to know,” Tom says, tone soft but expression completely serious and Pete lets the wash of anticipation flow through him.

Lunch is easy, a diner half-way to the zoo which apparently does great milkshakes and Bradley is talking animatedly about his plans for summer and the conversation between them all is comfortable and relaxed. Tom lets his ankles rest against Pete’s, lets their hands brush and thighs press against each other in the booth. It’s not holding hands and screaming from the rooftops but it’s more than enough compared to the nothing he had.

They spend over three hours at the zoo. Pete buys four disposable cameras, gives one to each of them and keeps one for himself. Informs them they’re documenting everything from then on and he gives Carole a kiss on the cheek as she smiles at him, eyes almost brimming over with tears and he tries to be positive; the idea that taking photos that won’t even exist on the negatives in twenty-four hours isn’t a heart-breaking thought.

They get back to the house and it’s been an amazing afternoon, full of laughter and love and he thinks he will try and do this again tomorrow, the novelty of it still there, the feeling of rightness even more so. Still wishes he could get the photos developed and keep them, knows they’ll be gone by the time he wakes up tomorrow. Carole and Tom are discussing making dinner and he eyes the grass. Remembers his first couple of days, when he cut the grass and it’s been bugging him today, more than it has other days so he decides to give in and cut it, muttering under his breath about needing to cut the grass and Tom simply shrugs.

“Getting to watch you get all hot and sweaty while you carry out yard work. Hard life but I think I’ll manage…”

Pete wasn’t expecting that and he laughs.

“God I love you.”

Tom blushes and Pete gives him a quick kiss, grips his hand before he pulls away to go and fetch the lawn mower from the garden shed. It’s not a large lawn by any stretch, but if he’s going to do the job, he’s going to do it properly so he does the edges with the trimmer as well. Doing it late afternoon is definitely hotter work than it is first thing in the morning. He tidies everything away and goes back inside and he’s definitely hot and sticky and now in need of a third shower and says as much, excusing himself for the upstairs bathroom and ignoring Carole’s snort. He doesn’t expect Tom to follow him, but he does and he’s being pushed against the bathroom door, the shower not even running warm yet and Tom is stripping his clothes off.

“My turn to clean the sweat off you hmm?”

“Pretty sure I didn’t lick you clean…”

“Don’t ruin my fun.”

He mimes zipping his mouth shut, although the effect is likely ruined when his mouth immediately drops open as Tom curls a hand around his cock and he jerks into it, his breath punching out of him in surprise.

“God you’re gorgeous…” Tom says, voice quiet and whispered into his ear and Pete can’t help the high-pitched whine he lets out. “Got to be quiet.”

… … …

Carole generously gives them an hour before she’s yelling for them, telling them dinner’s ready and as she places food on the table she raises an eyebrow.

“You’re on dinner tomorrow night. Regardless of how that tomorrow shapes up. I’ll know.”

Pete snorts, because neither Carole or Tom have remembered anything from any previous days, but he nods and promises to make dinner tomorrow night. He usually orders pizza on the nights he’s meant to cook, but he has to admit to himself that he’s a bit sick of pizza. They sit and eat, similar to lunch, feet and ankles touching beneath the table, although in the privacy of home Tom lets his hand rest right beside his. They listen to Bradley talk about the book he’s reading, Tom’s deployment, things Carole wants to do, which is bittersweet, but it also feels right.

He and Carole are doing the dishes together, Tom and Bradley now discussing something else related to the relative speed of land mammals versus aquatic mammals and he’s not worried about being a solo-parent to Bradley, because he won’t be. He’s going to have Tom there if it ever does happen.

“Good day?” Carole asks, bumping her hip against his and he smiles.

“Yeah, definitely one of the best.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. You seem happy.”

“Yeah. Yeah I am,” Pete says, accepting the truth of it. He’s had good days before, some of them better than this one, many a lot worse. But today is definitely in the top ten

… … …

“Is it okay if I stay?” Tom asks, his hand resting softly on his hip and Pete presses into it, needs to feel the warmth and strength of his hands on him.

“I’d love to wake up with you tomorrow morning. Of course you can stay.”

It’s not the first time Tom has stayed over, and while he usually sleeps in his underwear and a t-shirt because he gets cold alone he knows he will be plenty warm enough with Tom in bed with him. He doesn’t even have to worry about waking up cold, because he’ll wake up and magically be dressed again. They kiss softly, mouths cool and minty-tasting and he relaxes into it.

“That will never get old…”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

He feels the soft kiss to his forehead as he drifts off to sleep.

… … ..

He wakes up.

Alone.

Tom isn’t there and yesterday had felt… right.

Not perfect, because no day can ever be that, but it had felt right, and good, and okay, if he can make today feel like that again then he’ll count it as a win.

He rolls over, kicks the blankets off and stops, looks down at his chest, his thighs.

He’s still naked.

There are bruises on his thighs.

He’s never woken up naked before.

He sucks in a sudden panicked breath and stumbles to standing, then his bedroom door is opening and Tom is stepping inside, closing it quietly behind him and Pete reaches a hand for him.

“You’re here.”

“I’m here… where did you think I was? Do you not want me here?”

“You’re here,” Pete repeats, and his breath catches, eyes sting and then he’s crying, unable to breathe in deep enough and Tom has scooped him up into his arms, is rocking him back and forth while Pete is pretty sure he’s going to pass out and they both ease down into the bed. Tom is running his fingers through his hair, mouth near his ear, voice quiet.

“Yeah… I’m here. It’s Saturday.”

He curls his fingers into the cloth of Tom’s t-shirt, unwilling to let go for fear of him going somewhere else, of not having this anchor to this new day. He is in his bed, in his bedroom, in his home with Carole and Bradley but it’s the next day. His brain can’t compute it, that he is somehow no longer trapped repeating the same day over and over again. He doesn’t know what he can do that might help convince himself that it is indeed the next day.

“The photos… can you get the photos developed?”

“Sure we can Pete, just… it’s not even seven. Nothing will be open yet. But I’ll find a place that can do them in an hour.”

“We’ll go together,” Pete says, gripping Tom’s hand and he nods.

“Together. Jesus Pete… are you okay?”

“No… I… do you remember yesterday?”

He feels shaky and knows it’s the shock of it being over, that he is finally getting all his tomorrows handed back to him and he can’t believe he gets to have them all, that he gets to spend them with Tom, watch Bradley grow up, make as many happy memories as possible with Carole before they have to say goodbye. But also if they don’t remember yesterday he’s certain his heart is going to break.

“Yeah… I remember yesterday. Every amazing, unbelievable, crazy second of it.”

He lets out a wet sob, the relief almost unbearable and then Tom is kissing him, sweet and gentle and Pete feels himself melt into it, knowing that Tom remembers, and is here, is kissing him. He pulls back.

“I love you.”

“I remember. I love you too. I’m not going anywhere. Was planning on spending the entire weekend with you anyway.”

“There will be a lot more sex then you planned.”

“I’m okay with that.”

… … …

He’s scared, he realizes. Doesn’t want to fall asleep in case he once again wakes up repeating the day. Stuck in a different time loop.

“It’s okay Pete. I’ll be here when you wake up regardless.”

… … …

It’s another tomorrow.

He gets his happily ever after, after all.

THE END

#icemav #Once Upon a Time in 1996...#pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #Top Gun fanfiction

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forlorn-crows · 1 year

Note

I come with trinkets for my Crow ♡

Option a: MountRain bathtub sex

Option b: t4t sunny/swiss sharing a double ended dildo

Option c: cumslut Dew getting just c o v e r e d in it

once again, i find myself fulfilling another one of miasma's prompts. she is truly my muse ♡

this is, surprisingly (or maybe not), option a. but DAMN are those other two good as well.

rain is permanently trans in my brain now. pretend this was posted on tuesday, im shy of about 40 minutes

"How's the water, darling?" Mountain mutters against Rain's temple.

The water ghoul sighs and melts further against his chest, dropping the back of his head against Mountain's shoulder. "So nice. Missed this."

"Mm, those hotel baths are simply not big enough," Mountain agrees.

"Some of them don't even have baths," Rain pouts, floating his hands over the lavender-scented bubbles.

Mountain chuckles, the sound reverberating through Rain's own chest. "How rude of them."

"It is." Rain flexes the fingers on one hand, clenching and unclenching them beneath the warm water.

"Sore?" The earth ghoul asks, his own fingers already trailing down Rain's arm, reaching for his hand. He pulls it close to his chest, wrapping his other arm around to meet in the middle, massaging before Rain has a chance to answer.

Rain chirps happily and lets his hand go limp in both of Mountain’s. He melts even further, if that were possible, draping his other arm over Mountain’s thigh and sinking more into the warmth of the water. “That’s nice,” he hums.

The earth ghoul works his hand quietly, gently stretching the tendons and kneading into the fat of his palm. He pays careful attention to the thumb and pointer fingers, perpetually tense and strained from playing. Mountain works up his wrist and forearm, smiling at the way Rain groans in response. He places a kiss to his temple, digging his thumbs into the tight spots across the muscle.

Rain’s fingers twitch against his shin as a soft whine escapes his throat.

“Too much?” Mountain pauses his ministrations, worried he’s pushed too hard on a tender spot.

“Oh, don’t stop,” Rain whines, petulant. But there’s a hint of something else, something that goes straight to Mountian’s gut when the water ghoul shifts and presses closer, nuzzling his head into the crook of his neck. He squeezes Mountain’s thigh, just hard enough not to be written off as absent-minded.

“Rain,” he says huskily.

“Hm?” The water ghoul kisses his jaw. Sweet. Tender. Just soft enough to set his heart alight with yearning. Mountain slowly drops Rain’s hand back into his lap, sliding his arms around his torso in a loose hug. He drops his head down to kiss along the column of Rain’s neck. It earns him a happy trill and another squeeze to his thigh.

“Is there something else you want, tadpole?” Mountain mutters against the soft hollow of his throat.

Rain bares his throat further, dropping his head back as far as it’ll go. “Oh,” he sighs as Mountain kisses along his collarbone. Rain’s hands drift up and down the earth ghoul’s thighs, searching, wanting. “You. Want you,” he says into the air above his face, whispered like an unholy prayer.

“Can I touch you?” Mountain’s hands trail down his ribs and stop at the v of his hips, cradling Rain in a delicate, reverent grasp.

“Yes,” Rain breathes. “Yes, anywhere. Everywhere.”

Mountain pulls him close then, bodies slotting together like well-worn puzzle pieces. The earth ghoul lets his hands roam down to Rain’s legs, smoothing over the soft skin of his inner thighs, back up over the dark freckles on his stomach, over the lilac blush blooming at his sternum. He kisses at the side of his neck, mouthing at a slow and lazy pace. Rain purrs at it all, little sighs falling from his lips as he loses himself in Mountain’s touch.

His hands move lower once more, teasing above and around where Rain really wants it now. “Mount . . .” Rain pulls him into a kiss, a little awkward with the angle, but intoxicating nonetheless. Mountain smiles against the water ghoul’s mouth, letting himself be pulled in. He licks at the seam of Rain’s lips, who lets him in without a second thought. Their tongues slide together with ease just as Mountain dips his fingers between Rain’s legs.

A shiver runs through Rain’s body. A soft moan escapes his lips, ghosting over the earth ghoul’s mouth. Mountain pulls away and nuzzles against the side of Rain’s face instead, sighing as his clit plumps up beneath his stroking fingers.

"Fuck, yes," Rain sighs, grinding against the touch. Mountain groans; he can feel his cock fill out, bumping against the swell of Rain’s ass. He pulls the water ghoul’s hips back against his own, groaning again at the friction. “Oh,” Rain gasps, gripping at Mountain’s thighs as he continues to rub lazily at his cunt.

Mountain takes one of Rain’s earlobes into his mouth, sucking and nibbling gently. Rain whines as another shiver runs down the length of his spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He’s trembling against the earth ghoul, desire seeping out of his very pores.

“Mountain,” Rain breathes. The earth ghoul dips his fingers lower, teasing. He grinds against Rain’s ass, teasingly acknowledging what he can already sense hanging off the tip of his tongue.

“Yes, darling?”

Mountain teases two fingers around Rain’s entrance, prying the smallest of moans from his mouth. Rain pushes back against his cock, making Mountain groan in return. “Need it, inside—fuck, put me in your lap, please.”

“Turn around, need to see you.” Rain does as he’s told, careful not to slosh the water too much. It’s a tight fit with Rain’s legs bracketing Mountain’s hips, but there’s just enough room for him to settle on his knees, hovering over his lap. There’s slick already making its way out of Rain’s cunt; no longer hindered by water pressure, it drools out past his folds. “Fuck,” Mountian breathes, dipping two fingers into it. Rain grips his shoulders, gasping as he teases his entrance once more.

"Mountain," Rain whines, almost desperate. "Please."

"Yeah," he breathes as he drags the slick gathered on his fingers over his cock, lining up the head to Rain's cunt. The water ghoul sinks down of his own accord. It's a slow, lazy slide all the way down, Rain heaving little sighs until his ass meets Mountain's hips.

Mountain's forehead falls against Rain's as he forces himself to remember how to breathe. He can feel the way Rain throbs around him, how his thighs shake against his hips.

“Fuck," Mountain chokes out. "Sometimes I forget how good you feel.”

Rain smirks at that, shifting his hips. “How could you forget? You—ah—tell me every time.”

Mountain trails his hand back down to Rain's clit, circling the reddened bud with nimble fingers, mouth dropping open at the way his folds stretch around his length.

"Remind me again, darling."

#ask #miasma #transghoul tuesday #transmasc rain #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #rain x mountain #mountain x rain #the band ghost #mountain my love #mountain march is almost overrrr so sad #the band ghost fanfic #ghost fanfic #ficlet #i wanted to do more with this but i am also sick of looking at it #i have too many wips

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