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roseghoul26 · 5 months

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Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no? Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of) Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao. also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!

If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.

But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral.

It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75, where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen.

Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth.

In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back.

Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day.

A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said.

“The fuck you doin’?”

“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.”

He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking.

You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you.

Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation.

There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones.

Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”

You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”

You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.

The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready.

In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed.

Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building.

Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment.

You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you.

The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling.

Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him.

It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof.

He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”

You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.

You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette.

“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk.

“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you.

Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut.

It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then.

Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth.

It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”

You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”

He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.

“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you.

“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”

See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship?

You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul.

And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.

“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.

“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance.

“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about.

He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”

It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke

“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”

You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now.

“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.

He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands.

Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month.

It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled.

Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?”

Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered.

He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”

“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered.

“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”

“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”

“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”

“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were.

“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”

“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”

“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”

“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”

His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”

“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”

There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted. watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”

The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”

He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?”

“You don’t have to-”

“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth.

“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly.

He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.”

Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”

“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”

You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”

“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”

“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.

He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.

“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.

“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”

“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”

“That’s two questions.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”

“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”

“Do you regret it?”

“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.

“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand.

“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”

It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans.

You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”

“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that.

His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”

“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”

If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”

“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”

“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again.

“‘No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?”

You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”

When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning.

“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.

“So no sex then?”

Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.

“So you’ve never-”

“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.

“Not even after you left?”

“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses.

“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”

“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.

He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”

Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?”

In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening.

“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man.

“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision.

It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”

Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.

You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”

“Deal.”

You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours.

Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded.

Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind.

Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief.

An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway.

“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow.

“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts.

Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch.

“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended.

You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact.

When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.

His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body.

Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing.

“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”

When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”

“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.

He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.

It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again.

But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.

He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.

With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.

He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth.

But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly.

You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.

His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.

You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”

Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice.

The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person.

They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it.

You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders.

Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.

You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.

He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”

“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip.

“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”

Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan.

Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.

His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice.

Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning.

You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up.

“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you.

For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked.

It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit.

“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips.

But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.

“You close?”

“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still.

“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.

You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.

That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment.

His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs.

An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him.

“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down.

“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere.

Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were.

You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him.

When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently.

With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt.

The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air.

For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.

And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come.

“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”

Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”

Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”

You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.

“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”

As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening.

One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly.

Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move.

All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.

You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.

You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress.

That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it.

You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.”

“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation.

“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”

You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly.

You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”

His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.

You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”

Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face.

He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence.

Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest.

Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt.

Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name.

He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you.

You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment.

He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night.

When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else.

You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.

The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss.

When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.

“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.

“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening.

With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this.

You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”

He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes.

It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”

He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”

You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”

“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”

You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours.

“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?” You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long.

“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”

Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”

“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout #fallout tv series #fallout series #fallout prime #fallout show

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venus-haze · 3 months

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Playing Pretend (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Homelander’s secret identity is an ill-fated experiment in normalcy for a man who had grown up with anything but. He manages to keep his story straight until he runs into you in the hallway of your building one night, assuming the blood on his face and clothes are his and not the low-level criminals he’d just taken care of. While you’re playing nurse, Homelander’s playing John, but he’s not sure how much longer he can keep up the facade around you.

Note: Gender-neutral reader, and no descriptors are used. So Casual!Lander got me thinking about secret identity!Homelander again. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Some emotional manipulation, but this is on the fluffier side of things I've written.

Homelander hadn’t expected the blood on his civilian clothes to be much of a problem. It was late, he reported the incident to Vought and would be up a few points when the story hit the news in the morning. Typically, he returned to the Tower when something like this happened, but instead, he was drawn to the apartment he’d been set up with as part of his undercover identity.

A secret identity was exciting at first, a brand new challenge for him. Except he didn’t entirely get it. Wasn’t the point of everything he’d been through so that he could be Homelander? The best of the best, America’s savior? Not some guy named John living in a crappy apartment downtown. But Edgar wanted it, and so it was done.

The apartment itself didn’t feel like home. The pictures on the wall, knick-knacks on the bookshelves, they weren’t his. But the man he was pretending to be had a dizzying backstory that he found difficult to keep track of at first, and then irrationally jealous of once he got the hang of spitting out anecdotes about family barbecues and youth basketball leagues. Stuff everyone else got except for him, apparently, because they were always met with mind-numbingly boring stories of other people’s mirrored experiences that he had to “Oh?” and “Wow!” through like he actually cared.

“John!” You called out from down the hall as he approached, laundry basket in your arms.

He smiled. A real one. At least in all of this, he met you.

“Hey neighbor!” he greeted cheerfully, as if it were bright and early and not nearly midnight.

“What are you—” Your face twisted as he approached. Your heart thumped almost deafeningly. “Oh my god, what happened?”

“What?”

“John, you’re bleeding. Let me take you to the emergency room.”

“That’s not necessary. I–I don’t like doctors,” he said, the statement not feeling as much like a lie as he thought. “Most of it isn’t even mine.”

“I have a first aid kit in my bathroom. At least let me clean you up a little?”

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed.

You practically kicked open the door to your place, throwing your laundry basket aside and making a beeline for the bathroom like his life depended on it. If he were anyone else, it probably would have. He caught his warped reflection in your stainless steel refrigerator and cringed a bit. It did look pretty bad.

He inexplicably tensed upon seeing you return with the first aid kit, your brows knit together in worry.

“Sit, please,” you urged as you laid out the contents of the kit on your kitchen table. “Oh John, what happened?”

“You know me, I always gotta get the story,” he said, his cover as a crime reporter not having failed him yet.

Your eyes watered as you looked at him. “One of these days you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“What I’m doing helps people. It saves lives. That’s worth it to me.”

You picked up a cotton ball soaked in peroxide. “Let me know if it hurts, okay?”

He hesitated. That kind of thing had never been up to him. It either hurt or it didn’t, and if it didn’t hurt, they’d find out how to make it so it did.

“Okay,” he said, tense as your hand approached his face.

Even thinking about the doctors he grew up with made an ugly pit settle heavy in his stomach. But you weren’t a doctor. You were you, and it was cute how you played nurse. Tended to his wounds like they were real, like the blood was his. Did you notice how quickly they disappeared beneath your cotton-padded touch, leaving no trace of cut or bruise behind?

“It looks a lot worse than it is, don’t worry,” you assured him.

“That’s good.”

He had plenty of practice sitting patiently while being poked and prodded, but never with the unnecessary care you used.

He wanted to tell you. But then it’d defeat the purpose of a secret identity. Besides, just outright telling you wouldn’t be the grand, romantic gesture he pictured.

Late at night. You. Alone in the city for god knows what reason even though you know better. He’s told you enough that you should know better. It wouldn’t matter. Because he’d be there. The Homelander swooping in to save you from some thug on the street. It’d be then that you’d see him for who he really was, who he was made to be instead of the pitiful facade you were presently tending to. So taken by the act, by him, your hero, you’d melt in his arms and let him take you away from the hovel of an apartment building you two shared and into bliss.

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought.

“I’m sorry,” you cooed, dabbing just above his eyebrow with a cotton ball. “I’m almost done.”

Sorry? Oh. You thought you hurt him. “I told you, I can take it.”

“I still feel bad,” you said. “Did you go to the police?”

“No, you know I usually don’t bother with that. Interferes with my own investigations,” he said.

You pursed your lips. You didn’t quite believe him, or were at least frustrated with his lack of personal safety. Worrying you wasn’t something he wanted to be in the habit of, but you poured out attention and care for him in such a way he could feel himself itching for more. It’d been like that since he first met you, the only kind and welcoming person in the damn building. Perhaps that was why he kept up with his secret identity for so much longer than he wanted to, his attachment to you, to this fake life he led with you in it.

But he could just as easily make a new one, a better one for the both of you once you knew the truth.

“You made out alright, John,” you said, glancing over his face. “Really well, actually. It doesn’t even look like anything happened.”

“I’m tougher than I look,” he joked, hoping to dissipate some of your suspicion.

He heard you swallow roughly.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

You reached out, caressing his cheek. “I just worry about you, that’s all.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I can’t help it.”

Silence fell between the two of you for a few moments, and you began to pull your hand away from his face until he caught your wrist and spoke your name softly.

“I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” you asked.

He hesitated a moment. I’m The Homelander. Instead, he pulled you closer, his gaze falling to your lips before kissing you.

You kissed him back softly, with an otherwise foreign tenderness that made him especially conscious of how he held you. His physical control was better, almost perfect. No more accidental bone breaking or spine snapping. He wouldn’t be The Homelander if he couldn’t control himself.

But it was hard, with how deeply he felt for you, how much his emotions threatened to overtake years of practice and conditioning to manage his sheer strength. The Homelander didn’t have any weaknesses—save for seeing through zinc—but he was certain none of the scientists who poked and prodded him for years on end would have ever bet on you.

#homelander x reader #the boys x reader #homelander #homelander the boys #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys tv #homelander imagine

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seiwas · 2 months

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next time, if it rains | iwaizumi hajime

who would have thought iwaizumi was the type to wait under the rain?

wc: 784

summary: iwaizumi waits for you on a rainy afternoon.

contains: f!reader, canon-adjacent, set in high school (around 1st year), (eventual) friends to lovers, reader is nicknamed 'tori-chan' by oikawa (there will be backstory), you and iwaizumi are just starting to get close.

part of ‘there’s this sound (in my chest), and it only beats when you’re around’ this is the first fic in the series.

a/n: edited and reuploaded.

You find Iwaizumi under a clear umbrella in the torrential downpour of a Wednesday afternoon.

It’s not a surprise to find him prepped to go home, just fifteen minutes past his dismissal from volleyball practice; but the gym is on the other side of school, and he’s standing here now, outside of your club’s building, seemingly waiting as he remains firmly planted on his spot, unmoving.

You’re confused.

“Iwaizumi-san?”

Looking up from his phone, he readjusts the strap of his gym bag. There’s a momentary pause as he squints, the rain making it impossibly difficult to recognize you at first glance.

Then, recognition flashes across his face before he raises his hand, giving a small wave, “Hey!”

You place your bag on the floor, freeing your hands to unclasp the lock on your umbrella before pushing it open. It’s a bit of struggle as you attempt to carry all your things, your umbrella, bag, and a few books barely being balanced with just your two hands.

“Do you need help?” Iwaizumi calls out, voice muffled by the heavy rain.

“It’s—“

The question is rhetorical, you realize, because before you can even get a word in, he’s already made his way to you, approaching the steps much quicker than you can seem to gather yourself.

It honestly feels like deja vu; does Iwaizumi just always know when you need help?

Recounting the memory horrifies you to this day—the first time you approached Iwaizumi, he had to cut your rambling short just to get to the main point:

“Do you need help with the topics for our science exam?”

You shake your head, shooing the thought away. There’s no use dwelling on embarrassments of the past when it’s only brought you the good things you have today—like your little Wednesday study group, composed of you, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi.

“Thanks,” you bow your head slightly as he reaches for your books. Your smile turns sheepish when you follow it up with an apology.

The steps are slippery on your way down, but your shoes manage.

Just a few steps ahead of you, Iwaizumi stays close by, looking back a few times in case you might slip.

They’re discreet looks, a real attempt of his to be subtle; but you can tell, and the gesture only makes you smile.

“Why’d you wait all the way here?” you ask, once you reach the bottom of the stairs.

“Oikawa had to fetch Takeru. He messaged our group chat,” Iwaizumi swipes through his phone to show you the message. You fall into pace beside him, reading.

[5:01pm]

Shittykawa: Tori-chan, gotta fetch Takeru cos of the rain! >.< Sorry! Iwa-chan will still walk with u tho, I’ll see u guys at home~~

“It didn’t show that you read it, so I wasn’t sure if you saw it,” he continues, pocketing his phone as you exit the gates.

The rain gets stronger.

You hum in agreement, mumbling, “You didn’t have to wait out here though… I would have gone to the gym eventually…” a pout forms on your face, growing deeper the guiltier you feel.

The fact that Iwaizumi waited for you outside, in the pouring rain (and for a good while, it looks) makes you feel bad. You aren’t so close that things like this are unspoken in your friendship.

“Sorry…” you murmur. You don’t think Iwaizumi hears you from how loudly the raindrops are beating against your umbrella, but he does.

“H-hey, it’s fine! I don’t mind.”

You slow down your walk.

“‘Sides,” Iwaizumi sighs, falling into step with you, “I wasn’t sure if you had an umbrella, so…” he trails off, too embarrassed to continue.

Your brain buzzes at the implication, but you shake it off quickly.

Don’t assume.

(The wet patches on his uniform do nothing to cool down how warm he feels.)

“Oh,” you chuckle, focusing instead on how touched you are by his thoughtfulness. It’s endearing how he’s even embarrassed about it.

“Good thing I have one then,” you play along, speaking as casually as you can, “I don’t think we’d fit under yours.”

Iwaizumi laughs, a boyish grin settling in to replace how flustered he’d looked.

“I guess I’ll just have to bring a bigger one next time.”

You glance at him from the side, observing; you don’t think he even realizes what it implies—that he wants to share an umbrella with you, next time.

So you brush it off, chalking it up to Iwaizumi just being Iwaizumi, kind and reliable—thoughtful.

The rain doesn’t let up the entire walk to Oikawa’s place, but you’re thankful for it. At least, the raindrops reverberate loud enough against your umbrella to drown out the pitter patter of your heartbeat.

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi #hajime #haikyuu!!#hq!!#shotorus.writes #tts(imc)

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princessbrunette · 3 months

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au catalogue ♡

it has come to my attention that i write a lot on this blog, so sometimes the explanation of the lore behind one of my au’s gets a little lost. in this catalogue, i will detail the basic backstory behind each of my universes.

JOHN B ROUTLEDGE

♡ outlaw!john b:

the two of you met on your land when he’d snuck into your barn to rest after being on the run from the sheriff — being falsely accused of a crime. you allow him to stay, and in return he becomes a part time farmhand and full time boyfriend. overtime, you fall in love. the events of this au are told through my full length fic; hold me kiss me.

♡ dad!john b:

you accidentally fall pregnant with john b due to your shared breeding kink. you end up with one boy one girl!

♡ dbf!john b:

self explanatory. your dads best friend who’s a little younger than your dad — having met down at the local grill. your father trusts him a lot as he is known for his sweet and patient nature, but can’t help but notice you — the desperate and lustful daughter who can’t keep your paws off. he’s constantly scolding you for teasing him and shaking his head at you, but will still pay you a visit when he knows your dads not home.

♡ stepbro!john b

when your mother met big john routledge, she fell in love and decided to leave her world behind to pursue treasure hunting with her new partner in crime— thus dumping you on the chateau doorstep with nothing more than a few suitcases. feeling bad for you, john b tries to take on the big brother role — but a year and a half later the two of you are finding it hard to resist eachother. you are constantly throwing yourself at him, the two of you physically closer than one can imagine which people find odd. he resists you for a long time, but when jj tells john b that he’d be happy to step up and ‘look after you’, your step brother makes a move.

♡ apocalypse!john b

once a leader, always a leader — john b is in charge of patrols, heading outside the gates of your safe zone kitty hawk to find supplies and clear the area of the undead. after the tragic death of sarah cameron, john b is 10x more protective and serious, not allowing you to ever come with them on supply runs. he can always rely on the doting camp-nurse to fuss over him and make him feel better after a long gruelling day beyond the gates. the details to the apocalypse!au can be found here.

♡ toxicex!john b

after the two of you broke up due to you feeling neglected by the boy because of his love for treasure hunting with his friends, you can’t help but want to be around him. as detailed in this post, john b will always be there for you — even if he’s snarky and rude in the process.

♡ firefighter!john b

john b and his best friend jj maybank have joined the firefighting department. excited to save pretty women from buildings and claim their hero titles, they’re disgruntled to find they have been lumped with the ‘newbie’ jobs for a while — meaning they must drive around on patrol for potential fire hazards all day and save cats from trees. as they work their way slowly up the firefighter ladder, they find themselves short for money and looking for a roommate — who ends up being the sunshiney receptionist in their building who sees them as the heroes they are. after spending a lot of time together, john b and jj realise that they’re happy to share more than just their love for firefighting.

♡ jedi!john b

the jedi was seemingly of the purest heart. known for his defensive fighting style (much like obi wan kenobi) john b has always wanted to do the right thing and abide by jedi council rules. when the jedi was a young boy, his father the jedi master disappeared without a trace or even a goodbye. believing he had died in battle all these years, john b went about his life with only the tales of how great his father was. entering his early twenties, he feels in the force that his father is still alive out there — and sets off to find him. during his travels he meets you, damsel in distress in the shape of a naboo princess. more details to the star wars au can be found here.

JJ MAYBANK

♡ outlaw!jj

jj the outlaw is a regular at the saloon you work at, always having been a bit of a brute. he’s constantly on the run from the sheriffs and getting thrown into a cell after minor misconducts and bar fights. he’s always checking out your ass as you bring him his whiskey and will always make some kind of comment regarding whether or not you’d like to wear his hat and ride a cowboy. where this would make you turn your nose up at anyone else, you can’t help but feel special gaining his attention being such a well known outlaw from out of town. sometimes after your shifts you get cozy in a booth with him and he tells you wild, exaggerated tales of his crazy life.

♡ farmhand!jj

the slutty farmhand hired by your father to work on the barn, but spends a lot of his time working on you instead. the two of you are a total secret, loving the thrill of sneaking around — but the boy hopes to marry you one day.

♡ linecook!jj

the story told in this full length fic details how you met jj, the linecook at the restaurant you waitress for. this au is acclaimed to be one of the most husband-material jj’s — many discussions having followed regarding him knocking you up and making you food whenever you please. this au is also considered a classic on this blog as it were one of the first au’s i developed.

♡ campcounselor!jj

you’re the daughter of the campsite owners, the spoiled princess who gets everything she wants and everybody loves her. jj is the class-clown camp counselor hired for the summer because he struggled to find a job. overtime he realises how great he is with the kids, and you realise how badly you wanna fuck him. each night isn’t complete without you inviting the blonde back to your luxury cabin in the woods to sate your needs. he can’t believe his luck but doesn’t dare question it. overtime, the two of you realise you’re starting to fall for eachother.

♡ mascot!jj

in this au, jj heads to university. there he meets you, the pretty and shy cheerleader. taking the job as the school’s mascot, running around in a giant animal costume to hype up the crowd — he realises it’s his chance to get close to you. though all the girls on the team seemingly adore jj due to his smooth, funny and slick mouth — he fears he will always be seen as the sweaty, class clown mascot guy after every game. noticing the star football player rafe has taken an interest in you, he decides to step it up.

♡ bbf!jj

you can’t resist your older brothers best friend, jj maybank. he’s always at your house, playing on the playstation with your sibling downstairs, wandering the halls, or ‘accidentally’ walking into the bathroom whilst you’re showering. though you know it’s wrong, you can’t keep your hands off eachother.

♡ bsf!jj

jj maybank has been your best friend since you were young. the two of you knew everything about eachother, so it should feel like a sibling relationship right? wrong. the two of you have always been very hands on, flirty almost. whether you’re sitting on his lap at a party or curling up next to him in your bed — people can never quite tell if the two of you are a thing. the two of you struggle to distinguish this too, as your urges grow stronger you test the waters, beginning to perform ‘favours’ for eachother. what begins as jj massaging your sore tits late at night when you can’t sleep, becomes you ‘returning the favour’ and giving him head when he asks for it, which then becomes him fingering you in his lap when you’re needy. the lines are blurred, and you try to tell yourself you’re still best friends — scared of ruining things, but will rip away anyone of the opposite gender in a jealous rage.

♡ dealer!jj

jj is your favourite dealer in town. you’re always visiting him to buy your weed, and he always offers to smoke you out for a cheap price or even free. truthfully, he just enjoys the company in his little shack of a house, loving the way you get more touchy and needy the higher you get. the blonde ensures to feed you water to prevent cotton mouth, and even lets you lazily ride his thigh when you get inevitably horny!

♡ apocalypse!jj

never losing his sense of humour, jj is the master at making bombs from scratch and going out on patrols to ensure the safety of kitty hawk. his pretty nurse is always there to patch him up when he gets home. details to the apocalypse au can be found here.

♡ spiderman!jj

your best friend jj is the friendly neighbourhood spiderman… but you don’t know that. being his shy best friend studying to be a nurse, you’re open to your bestie about how much you lust towards the cities superhero, and jj tries his best to keep his mouth shut. inevitably, you figure things out — and then you become the nurse he visits in the middle of the night to get patched up after a particularly rough night. he constantly teases you about your crush on him and the tension only grows.

♡ piercer!jj

working along side tattooartist!pope, jj is the king of giving piercings. knowing him through mutual friends, your crush only grows when you visit him to get your nipples pierced and he totally talks you through it. after you start dating, you’re constantly hounding him about other girls getting their tits pierced by him so he’s gotta eat you out until you think reasonably.

♡ stepbro!jj

luke found the woman of his dreams and decided to finally get his shit together and try to be a better father. with luke’s new woman, comes you her daughter — the bunch of you living under one roof. luke spends a lot of his time in AA and working, and your mother works long shifts too — leaving the two of you alone. you’re as innocent as they come, but with that comes sexual curiosity — and who better to confide in about that than your big step bro? jj is happy to help, so long as you keep it hush.

♡ babydaddy!jj

after knocking you up, jj freaks out about becoming just like his father and leaves — before returning deep into your pregnancy to step it up and be there for you. it’s hard at first to put your pride aside, but you give him a chance after he begs you to let him back into your life. he keeps a respectful distance of course, but picks up extra shifts at work and is at your beck and call whenever you need him. once the baby is born, he’s spending even more time around you — showing up at your doorstep unannounced and finding excuses to come inside to spend time with his family. eventually, he weasels his way into your bed to look after you and help you unwind.

♡ toxic!jj

jj is your toxic boyfriend who lets his fears and insecurities get the best of him, resulting in him being a little mean and manipulative. talking to another guy at a party? he’s making a scene, beating the guy bloody before pulling you away to yell at you. not in the mood to be all over him? he’s accusing you of not wanting to be with him anymore, telling you that he ‘knows’ you’re going to dump him. despite the arguments, the night always ends in two ways — either him drunk, crying into your shoulder and begging you not to leave him — or having you pinned beneath him, fucking you dumb on his cock.

♡ toxicex!jj

the ex boyfriend that you’re still fucking and is obsessed with you. he’s constantly blowing up your phone everytime a guy likes your instagram, asking if you’re fucking him too, and scaring off any guy who dares make a move on you at a party by pulling out his pistol and threatening him.

♡ criminal!jj

jj maybank who got in with the wrong crowd and wound himself up in jail. you’re the sweet thing in little dresses that pouts in his visiting booth, asking when he’s getting out — and he promises you hundreds of dates when he’s released. upon finally getting out, the two of you can’t keep your hands off one another. he’s still shady, hanging out with the wrong kinds of people, and jail hardened him — but you love him all the same.

♡ shittysoundcloudrapper!jj

feeling inspired after one drunken freestyle night at the chateau, jj convinces himself he’s destined to become a rapper. writing, producing, and recording his own stuff — jj truly feels he has a knack for it. his stuff isn’t awful, just cheaply produced and vulgar. he likes to think his inspiration is partynextdoor — taking extra care in recruiting his pretty best friend to pose scantily clad for his single cover, or to moan on the backing track of his songs. he’s willing to do anything to get you on board.

♡ firefighter!jj

♡ streamer!jj

jj takes up streaming after combining his love for playing games and yapping. discovering he has a knack for it, he doesn’t expect to blow up the way he does. as much as he’s all about the games, he’s pretty oblivious to the fact his audience is mostly female, trying to gain his attention in the chat box or on his fan discord, or by making thirst trap edits of him to r&b tracks on tiktok, sexualising his body language or facial expressions on stream. he doesn’t pay it much mind though, happily in love with you — his supportive girlfriend who occasionally makes an appearance in his streams.

♡ onlyfans!jj

needing a bit of extra cash, jj starts to anonymously sell faceless videos of himself jerking off for money. not realising how successful he’d be, he continues to make videos pleasing himself on his account. after a couple of dates with jj, the two of you really clicking — he casually mentions that it’s something he does for a living, and you shyly suggest helping him out. at first it starts with helping him shoot, getting hot and flushed behind the camera as you pan down on him fisting at his cock — and eventually you decide to star in a few of his premium videos. depending on preference, streamer!jj can be the earlier version of onlyfans!jj if so desired.

♡ jedi!jj

more like anakin skywalker with his offensive fighting style — jj is the more reckless jedi of him and john b. when it’s discovered that bounty hunters are planning to take you, the princess of naboo — jj is hired as your knight to protect you. so nervous about the whole ordeal, you order him to sleep in your bed with you to make sure you’re safe through the night. with this, you can’t help but get physically closer to the jedi, pleading with him to break the council rules and be with you secretly. more details on the star wars au can be found here.

♡ bodyguard!jj

you’re the spoiled kook influencer who has recently gained some stalkers, and jj is the pogue bodyguard hired by your parents to protect you during this time as you continue to attend events to further your career. the lore behind the two of you can be found here.

RAFE CAMERON

♡ boxer!rafe

considered a classic on this blog, boxer!rafe is one of the most beloved au’s i created. a little bit into the future, rafe takes up boxing to work out his rage problems and finds it a great outlet, emotionally settling down and finally finding his own. he goes pro, and meets you — the daughter of the stadium owner at the venue he fights at. you’re sweet, always lingering round the gym or stadium watching him prepare for fights, hanging around the ropes to ask him questions and feed him water when he needs it. he’s obsessed with your soft nature, whisking you out of that place to provide for you, marry you, and fuck babies into you.

♡ bountyhunter!rafe

following the western au, your father winds himself up in some trouble with ward cameron — feared outlaw. for revenge, ward tasks his son, new to the job bounty hunter with kidnapping you to pay your father back for what he did. so rafe sets off, and with some struggle manages to take you away from everything you’ve ever known. he’s rough, mean and perverted — but somehow you find yourself developing stockholm syndrome and falling for him, not able to run away if you tried. think buffalo 66 vibes but western.

♡ prisoner!rafe

your boyfriend finally got locked up, so until he’s released — you do everything in your power to hold him down. dealing with his business outside the walls, you come to visit your man weekly, delivering sexy pictures of yourself to his post room to keep him satisfied and flashing him at the visiting booth. it’s getting harder and harder to be apart from him, especially when prison has physically done him so nicely.

♡ babydaddy!rafe

after breaking up with rafe because he’s too reckless and explosive, you discover that you’re pregnant with his baby. choosing to keep it, rafe decides he’s going to use this to get you to stay with him. he provides you with every penny needed to fund you and your babies life whilst on the side working to get his shit together and become the man he’s always wanted to be. once you’ve had your baby, he’s round for routine visits, occasionally fucking you and spending time with you when you’re tearful and lonely, needing him. convinced he can win you back with this, he’s constantly buying your love, and whisking you away to the bahamas to spend ‘quality family time’ and fuck you during the babies nap times.

♡ dealer!rafe

the grumpy kook is seemingly the life of the party due to his side hustle in dealing coke. working along side barry, rafe starts to pop up at every party you go to, holding lingering eye contact but keeping his distance because he probably shouldn’t bother the sweet innocent girl that stuck to two drinks a night. your friends are boisterous, walking all over you a little and send you to do their dirty work, being buying their coke for them. thinking you’re being a good friend, you seek out rafe and he fixes you up, all whilst telling you stop taking shit from your friends. he gives you discounts because you’re pretty, so your friends continue to send you back to him, where he sweeps you into his criminal lifestyle.

♡ stepbro!rafe

when ward cameron divorces rose and ends up with your mother, you move into tannyhill with your new stepsiblings. whilst you develop and great sister-like relationship with sarah and wheezie — rafe takes a different approach, his brain rotted by porn and makes it his mission to sleep with you. due to your innocent nature, you don’t realise what he’s doing half the time, and can’t deny how good it feels when he touches you. your secret sessions give you a rush, sat at the dinner table each night with no one knowing you just came on his dick upstairs.

♡ dbf!rafe

rafe becomes great friends with your father when they begin to work together, your father being rafe’s boss. he’s older, but still a little younger than your dad — and is careful with how much he pervs on you as he can’t afford to lose his job, being cut off by his own dad. you’re the spoiled kook ex cheerleader daughter who’s used to getting her way, and when you set your eyes on rafe you know you have to have him. constant teasing leads to rafe inevitably losing his temper and fucking you how you want under the condition you promise to keep it a secret.

♡ apocalypse!rafe

after ward cameron got killed in a shootout between them and the pogues to reclaim sarah, rafe is left to be the kingpin of his safe zone. he treats everyone there as his soldiers, ruthlessly commanding them to kill anyone who got in his way. on a hunt for revenge, rafe kidnaps you from kitty hawk camp where your safe zone is and forces you to be his apocalypse wife, telling you that the two of you will have to repopulate the world. more information on the apocalypse au can be found here.

♡ pervyneighbour!rafe

when you move in next door to tanny hill, ward cameron appoints rafe to be a good neighbour and show you around, being similar in age. he quickly discovers you’re rather innocent and decides he can take advantage of that, inviting you round to ‘get you acclimatised’ to the kook life — which means teaching you how to suck him off in his bedroom.

♡ fratboy!rafe

another fan favourite, fratboy rafe is the epitome of the american frat lord. parties, drugs, drinking, and skimming through his classes are what it’s all about. you’re in one of his lectures, quiet and shy at first — and he takes interest in you, getting his notes from the classes he missed from you as means to talk to you. he’s an odd one, rather rude and bully-like in nature, even towards you — but singles you out from everyone else to slide in compliments and check you out. you have a complicated relationship. you start to show up to parties, and he decides he’s gotta get his hands on you. fratboy!rafe is also gooner!rafe depending on preference.

♡ gooner!rafe

still a fratboy, however he spends more of his time in his dorm either watching porn or fucking yoi until you’re sore. stuffed in his closet are fleshlights and even sex torso dolls that he used before you came along to get himself off. when you come along, he treats you the same way he does his sex dolls — groping you constantly and demanding you to be at his beck and call, which you secretly don’t mind. he’s gross, willing to try out any position, fantasy or kink if he’s seen enough porn of it to convince him.

♡ pogue!rafe

a universe where rafe is a pogue, having left his family at a young age to be raised by the older fisherman pogues on the island. he’s 6ft5, mean, and hates everyone — slaving away day in day out at a building site or doing repairs for kooks much to his dismay. he still doesn’t get on with the core pogues, jj maybank in particular grinding his gears. you’re a kook, and rafe is hired by your parents to come and do the renovations on your house for a couple of weeks at a time — soon being trusted as their favourite handyman. he can’t stand kooks, but your parents pay well so he tolerates it. you’re not like the other kooks, sweet and humble — however you don’t know when to take a hint, constantly following him around begging him to hang out with you despite his constant dismissal. don’t get it twisted, he wants to fuck you until you cry — but is it worth getting involved with a kook? maybe you needed teaching a lesson or two in politeness.

♡ harryosbourne!rafe

a less popular au— rafe in the spiderman!jj universe, still rich and snobby, living in a high rise pent house with his father who happens to secretly be the green goblin.

♡ toxicex!rafe

incredibly self-explanatory, rafe your ex boyfriend who is toxic as all hell and won’t leave you alone. he stalks, shows up and beats up new guys you’re interested in, threatens people with guns just to prove to you he can protect you. you can’t help but go back to him and get your fix of dick from time to time.

♡ lord!rafe

this au is designed to be viewed in a creepy, a24 unsettling movie type of way. tannyhill becomes a haven for parties where all sorts of sexual, illegal, drug heavy activities go down. youre sweet and innocent, but get wrapped up into it — soon to be adopted by ‘rafes girls’, a group of women that parade around the home through the day wearing very little, pleasing rafe and his friends. he selects you to be his favourite like a little sacrifice and his women guide you through learning how to please him. more lore on this universe can be found here.

♡ sleepover!rafe

a less known au, but real ones remember this one! this au actually inspired lord!rafe, but it’s more casual and a lot more different. you and your friends often attend rafes parties, and after getting cozy with you — he ‘innocently’ invites you all to attend ‘sleepovers’ at his house. he spends the evening getting climbed all over by giggly girls, and wakes up in the morning to your friends touching all over him, easing you onto his lap and whispering for you to ask him to fuck you. your friends are weird voyeurs, but rafes even weirder.

♡ star wars au bountyhunter!rafe

in a galaxy far far away in the star wars universe, rafe cameron poses as a poster boy for ward cameron’s political party by day, and a bounty hunter by night. after stalking you around senate events, he woo’s the princess of naboo for a few evenings at a time — before later gearing up in his stolen mandalorian gear and kidnapping you for his father. will he keep you for himself? or cash in the bounty? more information on the star wars au can be found here.

♡ basketball!rafe

rich and famous basketball player rafe cameron spoiling his kook it-girl pinterest muse girlfriend and soon to be wife and mother of his children. the lore can be found here.

POPE HEYWARD

♡ kook!pope

probably the most beloved pope au on this blog! pope is a rich university student who is the smartest guy around. he’s invited to every party but still keeps his good morals and stays far away from rafe cameron if he can help it. when he meets you at a party, you stand out to him — and he decides he wants to take you in, tutor you and make you his.

♡ tattooartist!pope

working alongside piercer!jj, pope heyward is the best tattoo artist around. he has steady hands and a calm voice that could talk you through the pain (and other things). outside of work, he’s still kind of a nerd that rambles — just a nerd with sexy tats.

♡ drummer!pope

picture pope with a bandana tied round his head with the sleeves cut off his shirt, playing in a small town band with his friends. you have a little crush on him, and drag your friends to every single show to watch him until they force you to find him after a set and give him your number.

♡ dbf!pope

your dads slightly younger best friend who owns the grill now, still carrying that same soft spoken patience that makes him ever so trust worthy. so trustworthy that your father even convinces him to tutor his sweet college student daughter — unbeknownst to the fact she refuses to be tutored unless she’s sat on his lap, grinding on his dick.

♡ apocalypse!pope

pope works in the control room at kitty hawk, making sure everything is running smoothly, watching for intruders through the cameras he set up, and spending day in day out trying to contact other survivors through the radio channels. he’s been pretty quiet and stoic since the outbreak, struggling with the loss of people he loves and cares about — but you can always get through to him, convincing him to take breaks with you and fall in love with being alive again. the two of you like to smoke weed together in abandoned buildings and you let him pound out his frustrations by bending you over. in return he protects you with his life. more information on the apocalypse au can be found here.

♡ pizzadeliveryboy!pope

think your local pizza delivery boy, paired with a bratty, snooty kook— who is fucking pope after each of his shifts because your stupid cheating boyfriend can’t make you cum. for some reason, his uniform does it for you, and he wastes no time dropping his bike on your yard and running in straight after he clocks out with a pizza box in one hand and a condom in his pocket. he hates feeling used by you, he wants to respect himself more — but the sex is just too good to give up.

♡ drivinginstructor!pope

picking up a driving instructor gig to make some money after college whilst he decides what he wants to do. he doesn’t expect his first client to be you, the pretty kook girl with an insatiable need to fuck in the backseat.

♡ star wars au captain!pope

pope heyward is jj maybanks first in command, the soldier he relies on the most to help him navigate through the war against the separatists. after saving you, the damsel in distress princess of naboo, and spending time talking to him — he realises maybe there’s more to life than his identity as a soldier. more information on the star wars au can be found here.

THE READERS

♡ bunny!reader

the ditsy, girly girl kook who moved to the obx and instantly attached herself to rafes side. think haley dunphy but kinder, and the house bunny but a little younger. she is typically paired with rafe, but have been in other pairings before. she’s often seen in strictly pink and white, wearing bows, ribbons and skirts that ride up her ass. a lot of the time, she’ll be plugged with a fluffy bunny tail butt plug, put inside of her by her boyfriend to keep her docile. here’s the introductory post for bunny.

♡ kitty!reader

the opposite to bunny in the sense that she’s got tonnes of attitude and spunk, but just as much as a sex addict. she’s most commonly paired with jj, after meeting him in a grocery store and approaching him silently, wide eyed and curious. she’s super prissy, decked out most commonly in black and pink together, and if she’s not biting jj’s arm begging for dick she’s mouthing off, pushing to get put in her place.

♡ puppy!reader

pup is most commonly paired with john b, the sweetest, most hyperactive and slightly ditsy girl in town. she’s incredibly clumsy, mostly because she runs everywhere and you can never predict what she might do next. puppy!reader met john b after falling off her bike near the chateau, arriving on the brunettes doorstep in tears asking for a bandaid and if he knew how to fix bikes (the wheel was comically detached.)

♡ deer!reader

skittish, shy, curious and always following where her nose takes her like a deer. most commonly paired with pope but has been seen to join other popular pairings. she’s an all round good do-er, working at the library and volunteering in her free time — meaning the heywards absolutely adore her. it takes a while for her to warm up to people and be herself, but once she does she truly lets the weirdo out.

♡ mouse!reader

mousey is usually strictly paired in her trio relationship with kook!pope and regular jj. she’s originally a pogue, dating our two boys— pope paying her way through ballet school, and jj keeping her grounded in the pogue world. she’s known for her love of ballet, cheese, and shoplifting (which she always gets told off for by her boys! but never gets caught because she looks so innocent) here’s a drabble that details her more.

♡ lamb!reader

daughter of carla limbrey, lamb!reader is new in town. she’s been raised as strictly catholic her whole life and is learning what it’s like to be a modern girl living in the obx. with the help of the pogues, specifically jj — she navigates what it’s like to feel curious about wanting to fuck. although she’s ‘innocent’, she’s not afraid to lecture you and put you in your place, often sticking her nose in the air. aside from warming to jj, she’s got rafe on her case — always twirling her cross necklace round his finger, desperate to corrupt her ways, which only makes her angrier when her body reacts. if she’s not with the pogues in her little white outfits, she’s driving around in her ‘59 cadillac that was gifted to her on her 16th birthday. here’s a post detailing her more.

♡ spoiledkook!reader

the baddest baddie of them all. paired with any character you’d like — she’s like bunny if bunny was a bitch! popular pairings for her to be apart of — dbf!rafe, bsf!jj, pizzadeliveryboy!pope… the list goes on! this vid is totally her vibes.

♡ sheriffsdaughter!reader

often paired with jj, shoupes daughter pretty much lives at the station. she got a shitty little job there doing paperwork and signing people in and out, but the highlight of her shifts are when jj gets taken in (selfishly) because she gets to flirt with him. her father is oppressive and strict, and got her labelled with being a ‘narc’ for all of her teen years and never invited to parties — so she resents him, throwing herself at jj. think the song 18 by anabor meets please please please by sabrina carpenter. here’s a post inspired by that and an edit to help you see my vision.

THREEWAY SHIPS

♡ jj x reader x john b

the first ever threeway relationship i brought to this blog! a classic au to the real ones who have been here for aaaages! the two are usually paired with puppy!reader, all being friends until they realised their feelings for reader were stronger than it should be and they didn’t mind sharing! john b is the ‘daddy’, the stern but sweet calming presence that keeps everyone grounded, and jj is the fun playful one that teases you and riles you up.

♡ rafe x kook!reader x jj

another classic au! when jj takes the job mowing lawns for kook families, he spots the prettiest girl he’s even seen sunbathing outside in the tiniest bikini ever. deciding he has to have her, he swoops in and befriends her, using her innocence to take advantage of and take her under his wing. however, rafe cameron had been your neighbour for years. due to the two of you practically growing up together, your parents have always forced you two together — ward instructing rafe to always invite you to every event and gala as his date growing up. as you come into adulthood, the boy realises that he does infact want you, in every way, especially now he’s seen that jj has his eyes on you. the two boys battle it out over you.

♡ jj x mouse!reader x pope

see mouse!reader above!

♡ john b x reader x sarah

sarah and john b have always been chronically horny, and when they spot you working at the local library — they decide to befriend you with the purpose of corrupting you and joining you into their weird little horny relationship. at first you think it’s normal, they’re just a little affectionate — especially sarah, but soon the boundaries get pushed and you can’t help your body reacting to your two closest friends. occasionally jj joins in on the fun too! heres a post detailing their odd relationship.

♡ jj x reader x maggie

maggie is an oc created by me to play a masc-leaning lesbian mechanic in the obx, jj’s best friend at the garage they work at. she has a few face claims, but her most popular one is charlie watson from bumblebee, or kate bishop. the two are usually paired with puppy!reader, both caring for her in their own way — jj being a golden retriever hyper horn dog and maggie being a grumpy black cat.

♡ firefighter!johnb x receptionist!reader x firefighter!jj

see firefighter!johnb/jj above!

#not proofreading allat so if there’s a mistake no there isn’t #au catalogue ♡#this has taken ages omg #hopefully it’s helpful for those who always have questions on the lore!

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ghostboneswrites2 · 7 months

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Silent Night || One Shot

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!

Request from my old blog: "I was wondering if you could to a little thing of daryl and a female mute reader? If you can, maybe selective mutism, so there can be some trust building themes and things! Just fluff, and two idiots in love"

Summary: You get stuck in a cabin overnight with Daryl. He tries to get to know you. Lots of trust building and cute bonding.

18+MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, sad backstory, TW: child loss, mostly cute

Daryl lit the fire in the old fireplace, rubbing his hands together and holding them out to soak up the heat. It was dark and rather chilly with the roaring storm outside. It had blown in fast, and the torrential downpour was too much to drive in. With slow squeaky windshield wipers and dim headlights that desperately needed replacing, there was no other option. Daryl pulled over to the first cabin he saw and rushed you inside, leaving the two of you to spend the night in an old dusty cabin that smelled like mildew and aged wood.

"Should start warmin' up in a bit." He told you, standing up and looking around. He didn't bother waiting for a response, you wouldn't have anything to say. Nobody had ever heard you talk. I mean, sure, people did when yo were younger, before the turn. You weren't deaf like Connie. You thought it was probably just a trauma response. The day you came home to find your fiancé hunched over your two year old daughter, blood pooling on the ground... You could just never bring yourself to speak after that. When you heard your voice, you heard goofy laughs with your baby, sweet talks in bed with your man, phone calls with family and friends. Nowadays there was never anything worth talking about. Every time you tried to speak you were flooded with sweet memories and clouded by the terrible image of your undead lover eating your baby, your world. It was like this large painful lump in your throat had made a home there and prevented any sound from coming out.

Nobody actually even knew your name. You never told them. They usually just called you Jane, as in Jane Doe. Daryl didn't mind you at all, though. In fact, he was quite fond of you. You were pretty, you could hold your own, and you were also... pretty. So pretty. He couldn't keep his eyes off you some days. He was never sure if you noticed, and you really didn't. That was really only because you tried your best not to look at him. You were helplessly attracted to him, so anything to avoid giving that away, you did.

"Still got them bars in your bag?" He asked you, referring to the protein bars Carol sent you with. You opened your bag and tossed him one, opening another one for yourself.

The two of you ate in silence. He tossed you a water bottle from his own bag, and you drank.

Then, it was just the two of you, left to occupy yourselves. He spent an hour or so sharpening arrows and tweaking bits and pieces on his bow. You mostly just laid on the couch and picked at your nails, or scabs, or stared up at the ceiling, watching the spiders in their webs.

His mind was plagued with questions. Every time he was alone with you he found himself wondering the same things. Where were you from? What was your story? Why didn't you speak? What was your name?

He got frustrated with he lack of answers or anything else to stimulate his mind and distract him. He sighed and pushed himself back and forth in the old dingy rocking chair.

"Need to find you a notepad or somethin' like Connie has." He spoke.

You looked over at him.

"Just sayin', silence is deafening, y'know?"

You just looked back up at the ceiling.

"What about.. Okay." He sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. You looked back at him. "What if I asked you... yes or no questions. You can just nod or shake your head." He sounded hopeful and bored. You almost wanted to laugh at his eagerness, like a little kid trying to get his grandpa to tell him stories from the war.

You didn't answer, because, of course not, but you just watched him curiously, not giving any indication of refusal.

"Alright. Do you like fishing?"

You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Right. You don't fish." He nodded. "Stupid question. What about.. Okay. Have you ever talked?"

You gave a single nod after a moment of deciding if you want to tell him that or not.

"Do you know why you stopped?"

The question was like a dagger in your chest. You decided you didn't wanna play anymore. You just sighed and turned your attention back to the ceiling.

He didn't press further. He just stood up and started to wander, checking all the cabinets in the kitchen for anything useful. He found one thing, a can of Spam.

"You like Spam?" He asked, walking back into the living room. You glanced over at him and shook your head. You weren't hungry. He shrugged. "Suit yourself." He said as he dug into the canned meat.

"Y'know, I had a friend. Her name was Beth. She died, and uh, I didn't talk much after that. It was hard to. Like my throat got all tight every time I tried." He said. "It took a while, but I got through it."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to relate, hoping you'd open up some. You wished it was that easy, you really did. It was miserable having all these thoughts, needs, desires, and no way to express them.

You knew you could speak, if you really wanted to. The problem was that you had never wanted to work hard enough to get past the lump.

"You, uh, you're really no fun at sleepovers. Y'know that?"

Silence. He waited a while. He wondered if he could make you laugh. He couldn't recall ever seeing you give more than a smile. He remembered the story he told Andrea all those years ago, and how it made her laugh.

"Y'know, this one time when I was a kid. I got lost in the woods. I'm talkin' days, right. So, I gotta use the bathroom at some point. I wiped with leaves, cause I didn't have toilet paper or nothin', and turned out, it was poison ivy. I made it home eventually. Ass itched somethin' serious. I'm talkin' pullin' my underwear 'til the wedgie was so bad it gave me rug burn. Tried everything. Even took a fork outta the kitchen and tried that. Nothin' helped."

You were watching him now, grinning. A fork? Really? You wanted to ask if he threw it away or left it to get washed and used. He admired your smile for some time, before it faded. At least he got that.

"My brother was in juvie back then. Dad wasn't around either. Did I ever tell ya about the time Merle got crabs?"

You shook your head,

"Well, he came home one night from the bar. Passed out. Next day he couldn't stop itchin'. Come to find out, there were little bugs crawlin' around in his pubes."

You frowned in disgust.

"Anyways, tried to tell the dumb son of a bitch to just shave 'em off, but he didn't wanna so I had to ride with him to the free clinic to get some kinda dick shampoo. Turns out he slept with the same girl like three more times. Kept goin' back to her 'til the shampoo ran out. Guess he figured it didn't matter if he could keep washin' 'em out."

You looked mortified.

"Yeah, guess that wasn't funny." He agreed. "He was a nasty son of a bitch."

You raised your eyebrows and nodded in agreement.

"I see you hang around Connie a lot. She ever teach you any sign language?"

You shook your head.

"I got a book back home if ya want it."

You shrugged. Could be nice to communicate again.

"Looks like ya need new shoes." He commented, nodding to your feet propped up on the arm of the couch. The rubber soles were starting to detach from the shoe itself. You nodded. "Wanna stop somewhere and look?"

You thought for a moment, nodding and shrugging at the same time, as if to say, 'Why not?'

He sat back down in the rocking chair and rested his head back. He wasn't tired really. It wasn't even that late. The rain just made it seem darker than it was. He listened to the crackling fire and the windy storm outside, the occasional thunder booming around.

He looked down at you. You seemed just as restless.

"Wish I knew more about ya." He admitted.

Usually he wouldn't be so forward with a pretty girl, but your constant silence made him feel like he was just talking to himself. He didn't have to worry about your reaction, though he often wondered what you thought of him.

You looked at him again, curiously.

You glanced around the room for anything you could use to tell him something about you. It could be like a game of charades.

You noticed a map on the wall and walked over to it, pulling the large frame off the nail and walking over to him. You placed your finger on your home state to show him.

"That's where you're from?"

You nodded, a small, sad smile on your lips.

"I'm from Georgia." He said. You gave an acknowledging nod.

"Ever been to any other states?"

You dragged your finger from your home state to Virginia, showing him you had only been through the states that led you to wind up as one of the Saviors. Of course, you weren't one of Negan's fighters, you were just a maid on the cleanup crew. He had actually seen you a few times during his captivity at The Sanctuary. You almost looked as miserable as him.

"Mm." He nodded with understanding.

You set the map on the coffee table and walked around the room, looking for anything else to use as a clue. Your eye caught on a little pink bow, the kind with an elastic band that would go around a baby's head. You picked it up, eyes watering as you ran your fingers over it. You turned back to him and walked back to where he sat, holding it out to show him.

"Ya like pink?" He asked, not quite understanding. You shook your head, trying to think of a better way to explain. Then you remembered the horizontal scar over your lower abdomen. You had your daughter via C-section.

You lifted your shirt and pulled the waist of your jeans down slightly to expose the scar. You held the bow up again, then pointed at the scar.

"Oh." He said lowly. "You had a daughter?"

You nodded, still teary eyed. You took the bow to your bag, concealing it in one of the zipper pockets. You had run out of the house horrified on that awful day. You had no time to grab a memento for her, so that bow would have to serve as one.

"I'm sorry." He told you. You just nodded in place of a thanks, wiping the tears away. You continued your search around the little cabin for clues. It was kind of fun, albeit painful. It was like a game.

You took a little longer this time on your search, until you found a phone book. You took it and flipped open a page and walked back to him. This time he was standing up.

You held the book open so that he could see it, and pointed to two individual digits.

"That's how old you are?"

You nodded.

"Is your name in there?"

You shrugged and set the book down, reasoning that it'd be too much work to find it in all those pages.

"So, you're (age), you had a daughter, and you're from (state)?"

You nodded and smiled. This was the most you had communicated with anyone in years. It was nice.

"Cool." He nodded with a small half smile. "You hungry?"

You shook your head no.

"Thirsty?"

You waved your hand to say kind of.

"I found some tequila in the kitchen."

You raised your eyebrows. Now that was temptation if you ever saw it. Tequila was a luxury you hadn't come across in, well, you didn't even know how long. You nodded giddily and he huffed a silent chuckle, shaking his head as he walked into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of clear, liquid joy. You rushed over and grabbed it from him, twisting off the cap and taking a swig. You made a dramatic face as you shook your head. God, you didn't remember the burn being that bad.

"Easy, tiger." He teased as he took the bottle and had some for himself.

You smiled at him as he handed it back, the two of you taking turns until you felt that alcoholic heat in your ears and cheeks.

"You like tequila?"

You shurgged.

"Just like drinkin'?"

You nodded.

"Good to know. If we don't finish this off we can bring it back for ya."

You nodded and grinned. It was cute how happy you got over a simple drink, but he guessed with so little means of communication, anything was nice to take the edge off. He wondered if you felt lonely, like he often did. His was from a place of feeling misunderstood, though. Maybe it wasn't so different than being mute.

"Is it hard?" He asked, taking a seat in the rocking chair as you sat on the coffee table just a foot away.

You tilted your head inquisitively.

"I mean, not bein' able to talk to nobody." He clarified.

You nodded truthfully, looking down at the floor as you grabbed the bottle from him.

"Do ya remember what your voice sounds like?"

You thought for a moment. Of course you did, that was what made it so hard. Your voice was linked to memories that you couldn't bare.

You nodded.

"Maybe I'll hear it one day."

You smiled sweetly before you took a swig and passed the bottle back, nodding. Maybe he would.

"Something on the bottle caught your eye, a little sticker stuck to the bottom. You reached over and peeled it off as he tipped it back to take a drink. It was a simple yellow smiley face. You smirked and waited for him to put the bottle down before you reached over and stuck it to his nose.

"The hell?" He grumbled, peeling it off and looking down at it. You couldn't help the silent giggle, your shoulders rising and falling as you scrunched your nose. The little sticker just contrasted his dark, serious exterior too well.

He noticed your silent laugh and stuck it back to his nose, smiling a little at your amusement. You reached for the bottle and had some more before you passed it back.

"Y'think that's funny, huh?"

You nodded, still grinning. He swished the drink around in his hand, staring at it thoughtfully. He had learned more about you in a couple of hours than anyone probably had in the years you'd been around. Still, it wasn't enough. He was greedy and he wanted more.

He glanced around the room, the fire growing smaller making it fairly dim. He noticed a little banjo off in the corner near the couch.

"Ya like music?"

You nodded.

"Rick, too. Always playin' the worst CDs he can find. Makes my ears bleed." He complained. "What about like.. drawin' or anything. Got any hobbies?"

You shrugged. Before, you mostly just liked being a mom and watching your favorite shows. Now, you really only worked to survive, so what hobbies were there really?

"What about church? You like that kinda thing?"

You shook your head.

"Yeah me neither. Never believed in it much."

You nodded in agreement.

"My mom did, though. Liked to read the bible. She died. When I was a kid."

You placed a hand on his knee, letting him know you empathized.

"Yeah. Dad was a real ass, too. Merle was all I had and he wasn't around all that much."

You gave a sad, thin smile.

"What about you? You had both parents?"

You nodded.

"Brothers? Sisters?"

You shook your head. You were an only child.

"Consider yourself lucky." He joked. You nodded. "Pets? Did ya have any?"

You nodded.

"Cat?"

You shook your head.

"Dog?"

You held up the number two with your fingers.

"Always wanted a dog."

You smiled. You loved your dogs.

"Ya miss 'em? The dogs."

You nodded.

He yawned.

"Ya tired yet or ya wanna keep goin'?"

You shrugged.

He passed you the bottle and stood up, ruffling your hair a little. You swatted his hand playfully and took a drink.

"Gon' make sure the doors are sealed up tight." He announced, walking off to find the back door and reinforce it.

You stood off the coffee table, the hard surface making your butt sore. You stretched and walked back to the couch. When he came back he asked, "You sleepin' there?"

You nodded. You would offer it to him, but last time you guys had to share a sleep space he hogged the bed and snored as loud as humanly possible, so this time you were doing him no favors. He laid out some blankets he found, making a nice palette on the floor to lay on. You set the bottle on the coffee table, feeling pretty tipsy by now, and relaxed on the couch the way you had before. He laid down on his back, propping his bag under his head for comfort.

It was silent for a while, just the two of you enjoying the sounds of rain and the flames that were slowly dying down.

"Thanks." He spoke up. You peeked down at him from the couch. He was mostly obscured by the coffee table but you could see half of his face. "For tellin' me all that."

You just smiled to yourself as you turned on your side, facing away from him and curling up into the ball you usually slept in. A few minutes went by. Just as his eyes got heavy, he heard it.

"(Y/N)." You said. "That's my name."

#daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl twd

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hellfirecvnt · 4 months

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Hallelujah, What a Payday

Baby Billy Freeman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Baby Billy's on the search for his next co-star.

Warnings: Sex with that weird, old man (at the very end.) Religious trauma but with zero detail at all. If I refer to anything as "nonsense" or whatever, that's not about any religion and is only about the silly Gemstone activities.

Notes: Tiffany just doesn't exist here. I love her too much to write that she got left or something. This should've been two parts, but I promised we were gonna fuck him, so. We're also gonna ignore the Baby Billy body-double pp they show in the first episode. Don't even fucking act like that dastardly old man isn't packing.

"Five minutes, Y/N!" The angry stage manager screams backstage. You perfect your lipstick in the mirror and stand to straighten up your ensemble. You sing a few nights a week at a local lounge/venue for extra money. You're a local hit and it pays the bills.

Across the entire building, a man pays his way inside, tired after days of wasted effort. He sighs as he takes a seat, alone in a VIP booth. They're not cheap, but even if he hadn't sat there, anyone can tell he has money just from the way he dresses.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight's entertainment." A smooth voice vibrates over the intercom. You gracefully file out onto the small stage, illuminated well by a single spotlight amongst the mood lighting throughout the lounge. The tired man taps a finger on his table, watching with boredom as he waits for his drink to arrive.

"I'm all out of hope. One more bad dream could bring a fall..." Your voice rings through the air like honey sweetens tea. The lone man at the VIP booth nearly gives himself whiplash with the rate at which he turns to face the source of the illustrious talent. You continue to sing your cover, and slowly he begins to recognize the song.

Your eyes meet his, as you do at every show to engage with the audience.

"It's easy to deceive. It's easy to tease," you slide your hands down your sides, swaying back and forth sensually for this verse. "But hard to get release."

The pianist serves as backup vocals, delivering the iconic lyrics: "Les yeux sans visage."

"Eyes without a face; got no human grace. You're eyes without a face." Your vocals swell and the man stares at you, inspired. His mouth hangs agape with a hopeful smile.

After you finish your set of five songs, you take a small bow and excuse yourself to the bar. The well-dressed man all but trips over himself as he scrambles to meet you over there.

"Double vodka cran, please, Henry." You tell the bartender and he nods, starting your order.

"That's some voice you got there, darlin'." The man appears next to you, smiling a large, white, evangelical grin.

"Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

"Well, I more than enjoyed it. You got yourself a gift, now." The man extends his hand. "I'm Baby Billy."

"Baby?" You look at him, perplexed. He explains his backstory a little, insisting you should at least know who his sister is.

"You ain't never heard of Aimee-Leigh Gemstone?"

"Of course I have, I just don't listen to a lot of gospel." You shrug, truthfully hoping the conversation could end there.

"Well, darlin', do you ever sing gospel?" His eyes twinkle in the dimly lit bar area.

"I don't think that'd fare well for me here. This place looks fancy, it's costly to get in, but it's just a bar at the end of the day. No one wants to be preached to." You take a sip of your drink and he watches you closely, noting the pout of your lips as you press them to the glass.

"No, not here. Here." He lies a pamphlet out in front of you, sliding it closer along the bar. "I'm the head preacher at the new church in Locust Grove. Opens in a month."

"A man of God, huh?" You mumble as you skim over the pamphlet. "Does this gig pay?"

"God never asked us to exploit our talents for free." Baby Billy grins. You look him up and down. He's a walking red flag, but it's clear he's got money and as a broke woman on your own, you can never have enough.

"I'm free on weekends. I'll adjust my availability when I know you're serious." You say, stone-faced. Baby Billy hands you his card, passing it smoothly between his index and middle finger. You take it and stand from the bar, walking away, and disappearing into the green room to prepare for another set in an hour. He watches you, still sporting a wide smile as you stand. His eyebrows twitch in short-lived confusion. He pushes all that aside, only one thing matters now. He has his co-star.

Friday afternoon rolls around and Baby Billy attends your show, beaming at you from his expensive, empty VIP booth. He's practically got dollar signs for pupils.

"Friday is a weekday, Billy." You call over your shoulder as you excuse yourself to the bar.

"Baby Billy," he corrects, clinging to his childhood fame with all he has. "It's a brand, now. And who said I'm here for work? Can't a man just enjoy the show?" He follows you to the bar, taking a seat next to you.

"Well, did you enjoy it?" You turn to him with an amused smile. "The show?"

"It was even better the second time around."

"Thank you, Baby Billy," you say, with a knowing emphasis on 'baby.' "I guess I'll be calling you tomorrow, then."

"I'll be ready when you are, darlin'." He smiles warmly and you begin to wonder if you'll ever see him without that goofy, toothy grin stretched across his face.

Saturday morning, you're up, bright and early. You think nothing of the process of getting ready, throwing on a T-shirt and jeans along with various accessories you only get to wear on your days off, so you take every chance.

"This ain't a repeat of that... Lost soul you brought in last time, is it?" Eli settles back in his seat. He's sitting in one of the thousands of seats in the Gemstone Auditorium along with his three children, Judy, Jesse, and Kelvin. Baby Billy stands before them.

"No, damn, Eli. She's perfect for the job. She's got the face, she's got the voice, and most importantly, she's got stage presence." Baby Billy makes a grand case, convincing the Gemstone family that he's found an angel on Earth. Which is why it's all the more shocking when you walk in looking like an entirely different person than the woman he met at the lounge.

Everyone falls silent, they turn to face you as you walk through the door. The second you come into clear view, Judy Gemstone does a poor job of stifling a hateful chortle. Baby Billy meets you halfway, keeping you off to the side before you're front and center in front of everyone.

"The fuck you look like that for?" He asks with a peculiar sense of genuine confusion/ curiosity.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think it'd be a dress rehearsal." You narrow your eyes, placing a hand on your hip.

"When you called me this morning I thought I made it clear what kind of... Environment you might find yourself in." He waves his hands around as he says this.

"Is this an audition or did you scout me out?" You ask with a smirk, looking him up and down.

"Well, hear me out, now. Because if it were up to me, you're hired. But you need to hop up on there and prove to these assholes that I know what I'm doing."

"Playing dress up costs extra," You whisper. Without leaving time for him to respond, you walk ahead of him and confidently offer a handshake to Eli. The two of you become acquainted and he welcomes you to the stage.

As you step out onto the grand platform, it's awkwardly empty. You find yourself almost nervous, which is out of character for you. You've been performing since you were young.

"What am I singing for you today, Dr. Gemstone?" You ask, sensing a little bit of decorum could go a long way here.

"Looks like she's about to start blasting Rob fuckin' Zombie," Jesse, the oldest Gemstone son, quips under his breath. You narrow your eyes at him, clocking his appearance on the spot.

"I think I know what you wanna hear," you smile politely, pointing directly at Jesse. After a quick speed walk to the sound tech, you queue up the track for the song you've chosen. The music starts, and the two youngest Gemstone siblings burst into laughter. Even Eli chuckles.

"Hello, Darlin'. Nice to see you," you start. "It's been a long time, you're just as lovely as you used to be." The joke about Jesse's appearance quickly fizzles away as the Gemstones take in your voice. Baby Billy stands off to the side, gauging their reaction, absolutely elated.

"I told you he was trying to be Conway fuckin' Twitty," Judy whispers to Kelvin.

"Come back Darlin'. I'll be waiting for you..." You finish your song and take an unserious bow. You secure the job, and Eli even commends Baby Billy for finding you. After researching the Gemstones a little bit the night before, you quickly begin to realize how much money you could potentially make here.

"That was fantastic! That old fucker didn't think I could do it," Baby Billy gushes.

"And what did you do, just now?" You side-eye him.

"I found a star." He emphasizes his words with his hands. He's a charismatic and handsome man even given his older age.

"What's next? I'm sure this next month will be pretty busy with rehearsals." You laugh, already contemplating quitting your recurring lounge gig.

"Well, sure. We'll put in the work and all, but," he looks at you expectantly.

"What?" You ask, but he only gestures with his hand as if you should've caught on by now. "Oh, Baby Billy. I don't know if I'll be attending church tomorrow. I'm um, not a Christian."

"Huh," he says, dryly. You scrunch your nose, awaiting an uncomfortable lecture. "You work in this industry for so long, you forget some people aren't religious." He shrugs and you feel a sense of relief.

"I'm not busy today. Care to show me around the Locust Grove church? It's nice to know what I'm going into." He holds the door for you as you step out into the bright parking lot.

"I'd love nothing more." He grins.

At the Locust Grove location, you're wowed by the remodeled mall-turned-megachurch. He gives you the grand tour, specifying that you'd have your own area to get ready before each service.

"This is... A lot," you laugh.

"You're about to make it much more, darlin'." He ushers you up to the stage with him. "Let's give it a go, see how we sound together."

"What song are you thinking?"

"You don't know any gospel?" He peeks over his glasses at you.

"Not really," you shrug. "Well, I know Angel Band and I know Down to The River to Pray from that movie I like."

"Good fuckin' God." He sighs. "Down to The River." He counts off and starts the first verse. His voice is southern, crisp, and clear. You quickly decide in your head what fashion of singing would best compliment his. The chorus approaches and you ready your breath.

"Oh, sisters, let's go down. Let's go down, come on down," your voices melt together pleasingly. You can tell by the look on his face that he likes what he hears. The song ends for the two of you after that first chorus, that's all he needed to hear.

"It's about time something worked out for ol' Baby Billy," he shakes his head. "Now, the next matter to discuss is... Wardrobe."

"Yeah, I figured 'sunday best' would cut it, right?"

"Well, not quite." He leads you to a room past the storage area full of broken, useless mannequins. He walks up to a large armoire and pulls it open. Inside is one dress. It's wrapped in a layer of protective plastic that's done wonders to preserve it. It's campy and dated, though you can tell it was high dollar fashion for its time.

"Baby Billy, I'm not wearing this." You look at him, as if hoping he'll tell you he's joking.

"What? Why not? Now that was Aimee-Leigh's favorite dress," he glances back and forth from you and the dress.

"Okay and it's beautiful, but it looks like it's a hundred years old." You look at the striking piece of clothing again. "This is helpful, though. If this is the kind of look you wanna go for, I think I can make it work."

The two of you spend the rest of your time in the unopened church getting acquainted. You find him charming and entertaining. He finds you beautiful and unintentionally hilarious. You make him laugh often. It's like his own personal ray of sunshine on his shoulder.

It's late when you head to leave. You hardly noticed how long you'd been there. As you open the door to the dark parking lot, you turn to bid Baby Billy goodbye.

"Well, hold on, now, darlin'. Let me walk you to your car." He follows you out the door and to your vehicle. You roll the window down to thank him for the job, pulling your seatbelt over your head.

"I'll see you...?" You wait for him to tell you what day he plans to start practice.

"Monday afternoon, if you can make it." He places a hand on the roof of your car. "Now, listen. I know you ain't the religious type-"

"I will see you Monday, Baby Billy." You interrupt before he has the chance to invite you to church tomorrow. He shrugs, waving to you as you drive off.

That night, as you shower, you wonder if you were too rude with your rejection of his invitation. After all, you grew up going to church. Certainly not a mega church, but a church regardless. It's not a chapter of your youth and adolescence that you hold dear, hence your inclination to stay away from it all.

You set an alarm and wake up early Sunday morning... To get ready for church. You take this outing as a chance to demonstrate to Baby Billy and all the Gemstones that while your personal style may not mesh with their vibe, you've always had a way of blending in.

You put on a white dress with statement sleeves. Something to play off of the whole "voice of an angel" shtick. After perfecting the rest of the look, you leave with a satisfied smile.

You walk through the large double doors to the "Gemstone Worship Center" and look around. It's needlessly gigantic and overwhelming to take in.

"Y/N, is that you, darlin'?" Baby Billy's voice grounds you back on Earth. You turn to face him and he raises his eyebrows, shocked by your range of appearances. "Don't you look pretty this morning?" He grins, admiring your pearly glow in the white garment. He's elated to see you there. Not because he thinks you need church, but because he wanted to see you.

He introduces you to a few colleagues, and even Eli Gemstone reintroduces himself, shocked to learn you're the same woman from yesterday.

"Who is this with you today?" A tall, bald man with a thick African accent asks with a warm smile.

"Now, this is my girl, Y/N," Baby Billy gestures to you like a grand prize. Something about the title "his girl" makes your stomach flip, and you're not sure how you feel about that. "She'll be performing with me at Locust Grove."

The theatrical, pretentious service is long, loud, and feels uncomfortable the entire time, so it's hard to keep your mind and eye from wandering to anything else. Often, you glance at Baby Billy. He's brought you to his seats in the front area, so it's hard to drown the music out entirely, but everything does seem to muffle when you're staring down the white-haired enigma of a man before you.

After service, Baby Billy invites you to join the family at a restaurant called Jason's. You're hesitant at first, but Eli insists. When you arrive, the Gemstones are escorted to a level above the restaurant to a private section for their own VIP dining experience. It's frivolous to you, but it's nice to do something different for once.

After church lunch, the entire group congregates in the parking lot, saying their goodbyes and making promises to see each other next week. You smile politely, though a bit awkward, as you don't really know anyone besides Baby Billy.

"Nice get up, Rob Zombie." Judy Gemstone appears beside you, seemingly complimenting you, but she's just as confused as you are.

"Thank you, Judy. I just wanted to show that I know how to fit into a crowd."

"Yeah, well. You're not so bad, up there, on stage." Her tone sounds like she's accosting you, but her words sound genuine. As if she's not sure how to... Just be nice without intimidation tactics. "Singer to singer, don't let Uncle Baby Billy ride your coattails too hard." She struts off, linking arms with her husband and loading up into their lavish vehicles.

You feel a sense of comfort now, knowing Judy is just like that. It's nice to know you have another woman in the mix that you can look to as an acquaintance. Slowly, but surely, you find yourself melding into the atmosphere that follows people like Baby Billy around. You begin to feel more comfortable around the rest of the church leaders, though you realize rather quickly that there isn't much talk about God. It's nice.

As the weeks go by, you meet up with Baby Billy for practice every day. It's not the schedule you meant to give him, you just find yourself wanting to see him more and more. You delight in the strange way he talks and his charming mannerisms. You also think it's really funny when something goes wrong and he's suddenly not grandpa sunshine anymore, and he's kicking a speaker calling it a dick.

As the rehearsal window comes to a close, you and your co-star are inseparably close. On more than one occasion, one of you has slipped up and gotten a little too comfortable.

"Baby Billy, why does the mirror say something about washing my hands keeping me safe from Satan?" You ask, returning from the restrooms.

"That was song lyrics from back in mine and Aimee-Leigh's day," he laughs.

"Well, how do clean hands keep me safe in the eyes of the Lord?" You furrow your brow, in disbelief that anyone could believe this. Baby Billy is tinkering with the stage lights as they two of you converse.

"Well," he says, still messing with the light. "Just like those hands can commit sins, they can be washed clean by his mercy." He chuckles as if he already knows he's going to overstep. "Those look like sinner hands to me, darlin'." He winks.

"Sinner hands?"

"Ain't you ever done anything with those hands? Something the Lord might not smile upon?" He continues with his back to you, finally flicking on the light after his adjustments. Your face is hot and red with the realization of what he meant.

"Oh, yeah. I guess so." You shrug. Baby Billy turns to face you, taking a few steps closer. He's a good deal taller than you, so his lanky frame looms over you in a way that makes your stomach flip. He's barely a foot away, smiling down at you.

"You guess so," he repeats, tilting his head and grinning, letting the silence thicken for a moment. You give up on trying to fight back the blush in your cheeks, there is no way around it.

"Well, I guess let's get back to it," you clap your hands once in front of you as if to break up this moment and you take your position. Baby Billy just laughs and leaves you with a lingering confusion. The rest of the day, you can't seem to keep your head clear. A flip has switched and you find yourself lusting after this televangelist old man.

The two of you wrap up rehearsals for the day, but instead of leaving, you linger behind a little longer. You're unsure if it's nerves telling you to practice more, or if it's just you wanting to be around him.

"Next week is opening day," Baby Billy grins. The excitement is clear on his face with that brilliant, big smile. He takes a seat next to you and you both face the large, beautifully lit and decorated stage.

"That fast, huh?" You chuckle, trying to laugh away the knot in your throat so you don't have to swallow it.

"You're gonna be great up there," he says, catching you off guard. He seems to have mistaken your unexpected attraction as pre-show nerves. "Right next to ol' Baby Billy Freeman. This is a big break for you."

"Oh, it is?" You laugh.

"Look, I'm serious, now. The right ears hear us and we're signed and touring," he snaps his fingers. "Like that!"

"You sure you could handle being on the road with me? I'm kind of a diva," you joke. "If I don't get my beauty sleep, I look like a dead bug and I'll hit someone." Baby Billy bursts into laughter.

"I don't think a lack of sleep or even a semi-truck could deter what you've got goin', sweetheart."

"What do you mean?" You ask through a laugh.

"You're a looker, darlin'. You walk into a room and draw everybody's eye." His hands are animated as he speaks.

"Oh, yes. Flattery will get you everywhere," you laugh, lightly shoving his arm playfully.

"I mean it, now. You the prettiest girl I know." He shrugs.

"You're not so bad yourself." You smirk, leaning closer to him than you realized. He notices the closing gap and can't help himself, he leans toward you as well. Time seems to slow down just for a moment as you two share this closeness.

He glances at your lips, and then back up to your eyes. Your heart begins to race before the sudden, loud crash of the stage light Baby Billy messed with hitting the stage with great weight. You both sit up, startled by the sound, jumping away from the close quarters you'd just been in.

"Oh, uh," you regain your grip, realizing what poor business practice has just nearly taken place. You've fucked your boss before. You know it doesn't end well... "I should get going."

You stand and readjust your skirt, smiling nervously as you start toward the door. Baby Billy stands too, hopelessly searching for his next sentence, but for the first time in his life, he seems unable to find the words.

"Same time tomorrow, darlin'," he calls out to you as you step out the door. He takes a step over to the stage, sitting down and exhaling a big breath. What an old fool he'd have to be to think you'd want anything to do with him when you're so young-spirited and beautiful? Will that stop him? No. It won't.

The last few days leading up to the grand opening are full of those small, close encounters. One day, you tripped during dance practice and practically landed in his arms. You two locked eyes and it would've been done for right then if a janitor hadn't walked through the stage door. Another time, you were high up on a ladder, making Baby Billy hold it steady out of fear. The entire time you're above him in your dress rehearsal skirt, he can't seem to fight the perverted urge to glance up. When he does, he nearly loses his bearings. His face ignites red and he can't help but smile ear to ear.

It's no secret to either of you that some kind of tension has been brewing. Even the Gemstone siblings share a look of confusion when they see you two forget anyone else is in the room. Neither of you seems to notice how long your eye will linger on the other.

The Sunday of the Church's debut sneaks up on you after the last few days of having nothing but Baby Billy on the brain. You're less nervous about performing and more nervous about seeing him again. It's as if every time you two come together, the palpable tension in the air becomes thicker. You're certain you'll lose the ability to breathe the air around you if it gets any worse.

"You ready to make some magic, darlin'?" An excited Baby Billy startles you as he intrusively enters your dressing room.

"My God, don't you knock? I could've been naked," you laugh, perfecting your makeup in the mirror.

"I don't think you'd hear any protest from me, sweetheart." He winks and makes a quick getaway. To be honest, he wasn't quite meaning to say that part out loud. You're left red-faced and pleasantly shocked. The comments between the two of you have been growing more bold by the day, but that one takes the cake... So far.

You get dressed in your opening night outfit. It's a bit different than the one you wore to rehearsals. It's nicer, fancier, flashier, without all the dated glitz of Aimee-Leigh's 80's-esque dress that Baby Billy attempted to lend you.

It hadn't occurred to you that Baby Billy hadn't seen this outfit of yours. But his beaming, smiling face when the two of you step out in front of the crowd from opposite ends of the stage gives you a needed stroke of your ego. He holds an arm out to you, inviting you to his side as he introduces you and himself. It was established early in the arrangement that he'd do most of the talking, so you put on your best "quiet and pretty" act. You clap when the crowd claps, and you throw your hands up in "praise" when it seems appropriate.

Anyone who'd met you before this performance is genuinely confused by who they're watching right now. They expected you to give a hell of a singing show, they didn't expect you to play the full part so well. As you told them, you know how to blend in. The surge of energy that comes with any performance this in-depth carries you throughout the whole service.

With each song you sing, with or without Baby Billy, you cannot stop yourself from looking at him, over and over. Fuck the tension, something is building up inside of you and the adrenaline of the stage is only making it worse, for both of you.

Baby Billy bids the crowd farewell and you give a gentle wave as the two of you exit the stage, arm in pining arm. The very second the stage exit door closes behind you, muffling the sounds of the cheering and dispersing crowd, you and Baby Billy fall still, silent, and stare at each other for barely one breathless second and then your lips are on his. You both stumble for a moment before he steadies you, pressing you up against the nearest wall.

"God damn, Y/N," he whispers between hungry kisses. You pull away for just a second, just enough time to ask a question.

"My dressing room or yours?" Baby Billy answers that inquiry by reconnecting his lips to yours and guiding your intertwined bodies to his dressing room. It's the closest. The two of you stumble through the door and straight to the lengthy couch meant to make the room look more glamorous. He lies you back on the cushions and his two careful hands begin to wander.

"Darlin, you look incredible in this get-up," he huffs. "But I can't wait till I get it off of you." He quickly unfastens the buttons of your blouse and groans roughly just at the sight of your lacey bra-clad breasts. Soft, breathy moans escape your lips over and over as he gropes at you and grinds against you. "Now, you don't mind where this is goin', do ya?"

"No, shut up," you chuckle, pulling his mouth back to yours. Your hands rake through his hair and find their way down to his expensive, flashy belt buckle. He sits back on the couch, legs hanging off with his Italian leather shoes resting on the floor. He spreads his knees and you take your position between them. You're breathless with excitement as you free his erection from his slacks. The moment you wrap a hand around his shaft, you feel him still growing harder in your hand.

"God damn it," he sighs, tossing his head back against the couch. He wraps one hand in your hair, guiding your lips toward the head of his cock. "Come on, now. Don't make me beg for it." You chuckle at his eagerness, but you do as he says, wrapping your lips around his tip. Baby Billy sighs with relief as you slowly welcome him into your mouth. He gasps as you press your nose to his waist, taking his full length in your throat.

You bob your head up and down, still riding an adrenaline high that's enough to power through even the worst of neck cramps. He calls out small exclamations and whispers sensual praise, all of which makes the heat between your thighs burn hotter.

His moans become more and more vocal until he roughly pulls your head away, jerking you by the hair. You gasp at the pain, but it only fuels your fire.

"Get on up here, now. Let an ol' man get his kicks," he quips, helping you out of the floor before you take your place, lying before him on the couch. He buries his face in your neck, kissing away up and down your flesh as he continues undressing you. He unfastens the rest of the buttons on your blouse, slipping a hand under your bra and squeezing your breast eagerly.

"Come on, don't make me beg for it," you mimic his words, sliding your skirt up your legs, and exposing your panties. They're wet with arousal and he grins at the sight.

"I might just like to hear a pretty young thing like you beg to get fucked by the pastor." He grins deviously, pressing a gentle hand to your clit over the panties. "All this for me?" He chuckles, basking in the effect he has on you. After what feels like ages of teasing and edging, he slips the drenched underwear from your legs. The white-haired man stares in awe at your throbbing core, extending a hand to play with you.

He slips one digit inside you, earning a filthy, needy moan from your chest. Your mouth hangs agape with a gasp as he pumps his finger in and out of you, staring deeply into your shining eyes. He shakes his head, amused by his power over you and also in disbelief at the position he's in at this moment. Just a month ago you were a stranger with a beautiful voice on a stage he'd never taken a second look at. Since then, you've been the object of all his desires. How could he ever imagine you'd feel the same?

"Oh, my God! Please," you whine, arching your back as he fingers you. He chuckles, unsure how he's holding himself back. It must be how much he's enjoying the show.

"Shhh," he whispers, adding another finger. Guttural moans of heated pleasure pour from your lips like a waterfall. He eats up every second of it.

"You're doin' real good, now, darlin'." He positions his twitching erection at your aching entrance, playing with your arousal with the head of his cock. "Keep being good for me," he says as he slips himself inside. A long, needy cry escapes you as he slowly sinks to his hilt.

You stare up at him, locking eyes as his mouth hangs slightly open. He's breathless as your tightness squeezes him just right.

"Aw, damn, sweetheart," he groans, pulling back only to quickly slide back in. "You're somethin' else." He grunts and moans as he thrusts in and out of you, hastily picking up his pace. For an older man, he's incredibly virile. He fucks you for what feels like hours but is surely only a handful of steamy minutes. You squirm and whine beneath him as he steadily guides you to your climax.

"I- I'm-" you try to speak, but it's too late, he's fucking you into oblivion, riding out your high with a bright white, goofy smile on his face. He loves watching your face contort as you soak him with your orgasm.

"I hope you ain't done yet, sweetheart," he chuckles, sliding out of you. "Flip on over, now, darlin'. Let me get a look at that perfect ass you got." His praise ignites a wave of goosebumps across your skin. You do as he says, turning over and assuming a position on all fours, presenting yourself to him perfectly. He releases a breathy laugh, slapping both hands down on each ass cheek.

Baby Billy tightens his grip on your glutes and fervently tugs at you until you're lined up with his swollen cock. He slips inside you again, thrusting away at maximum pace. Your ass jiggles as he slams into you and he's hypnotized by the sight. His goofy grin has fallen to a serious expression as he chases his climax. He mumbles curse words and praise under his breath while pressing your back downward to amplify your arch.

"God damn, just look at you," he huffs, coming closer and closer to completion. "Whatever you want, Y/N, just say the word," he grunts between heavy breaths. "And it's yours, darlin'." You laugh at the way he offers you the world just from how good he feels inside you. It's a high compliment.

"B- Ba-!" You attempt to beg for mercy, but he's quick to cut you off.

"Shh, shh, now, sweetheart. Just... A little more," he groans, quickening his thrusts as he ends his sentence. He slams into you impossibly hard, incredibly fast, with both hands hooked around your waist. You release sensual cries of pleasure as he chases and finally catches his climax.

He withdraws from you, breathless and sweating. A string of lusty moans drips from his lips as he strokes himself until he finishes all over your ass. He stutters out a grunt before collapsing back on the couch. You're breathless, fucked out with your face buried in the cushion. The two of you fall silent for a moment as you catch your breath.

"Baby Billy?" You break the silence.

"Yeah, darlin'?"

"Could you pass me, um, a towel?"

"Oh!" He scrambles to his feet, tucking away his softening length. His unfastened belt jingles as he makes his way across his dressing room and grabs a towel from the neat, little stack of hand towels. "Allow me," he whispers, still catching his breath, as he wipes your skin clean, allowing you to comfortably collapse as well. He joins you on the couch, buckling his belt and straightening up his suit.

"That was... Amazing..." You sigh, somehow a little shocked at how well he just fucked you.

"It certainly was, Y/N. It certainly was." He lies back on the couch, allowing his eyes to fall shut. A hand reaches up to fix his disheveled hair. "Let's get them drawers back on you, now. We're late for Church Lunch."

You regain your composure and fix your clothes, sliding your panties back up under your skirt. After fixing your hair and your smudged makeup, you're ready to head to Jason's. You and Baby Billy arrive a few minutes after everyone else, and you take your seats next to each other. The table seems to grow quiet when you two join.

"Don't everybody start talkin' at once, now." Baby Billy looks up and down to both ends of the table. "What'd we miss?"

"From the sound of it, you didn't miss anything, Uncle Baby Billy," Judy scoffs. Baby Billy gives you a knowing look, grinning at you sweetly.

"No, Judy, I did not." He beams, proudly, placing an arm around your shoulder and planting a kiss on the side of your forehead.

•••••

Taglist: @justme12200 //

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ethereal-night-fairy · 6 months

Text

A Lick and a Promise

Chapter 2

Outlaw!Ghost x Female Reader x Outlaw!Soap

You let devils into your home. But why were they kinder than the saints in your town?

Warnings: MDNI, Arson, crude historical language (not by Ghoap), objectification (not by Ghoap), religious themes, small bit of fluff, period typical misogyny, kidnapping, implied physical abuse, sad backstory, implied theft, sorry if I missed any.

A Lick and a Promise Masterlist

Masterlist

Words: 2.5k

Fire…there was fire engulfing the town you were meant to call home. Flames erupted from the trees as if the gates of hell had been opened. You see the flames lick and dance around the wooden buildings as the horses race away from the chaos that was unfolding. The smell of fiery damnation was cementing itself into your mind, it engraved itself onto your skin like a branding.

Everything hurt…

Hot air whipped against your bruised and beaten flesh while you continued to struggle on the horse you were forced on. The smoke stings. You hear their screams in the growing distance as the mayor's home is surrounded by dark clouds of smoke.

Why? Why was this happening? Why did they take it so far?

You keep twisting your head back to watch from you were forced to ride with the men you foolishly helped the week prior. You continue watching as tears stream down your face. His arms are as tight as a vice despite you pounding your hands on his thighs. He doesn't let go, he doesn't even flinch no matter how many times you scream, beg or hit him. Your small home grows further away by the second. The little life you built for yourself shattered in the time it takes to saddle a horse with stolen goods. The fast movements of the horse jerks you uncomfortably as you clench onto whatever you can to steady yourself.

Everything was becoming too much, the screams, the fire, the smell of burning, the pain, your pain. Your eyes burn into the back of the man with the skull face. Never in your life have you seen a man beat another bloody like he had. The worst part was you felt relieved when it had happened. You felt safe with them even if that feeling only lasted briefly. But why did they want to protect you? Why did they care?

You had let devils enter your home. But these devils were kinder than the saints in town, yet you were deceived by their kindness. They took you without remorse. You don't know why you thought just because these two men were soft to each other that perhaps they'd be good people, perhaps they wouldn't hurt you like everyone else did. You should never have helped them. You should have told them to leave the second they had awoken. Look at where your kindness has gotten you. Kidnapped and probably on the road to your demise. You've become an outlaw by association. What were they going to do with you? Whore you out for money? Sell you to a ranch? Have their fun with you only to leave you drowned in a stream? Was their kindness just a ruse so you'd agree to help them in return for safety?

In the back of your mind you wanted to believe they had your best interest at heart, that they weren't going to hurt you. That they were too kind to do that. Yet you'd be foolish to trust outlaws on the run again. They had dragged you to damnation with them. Now the whole town hates you even more than before. It won't be long until your face begins being printed on wanted posters…

-The week prior

The blazing sun gradually made its way further up from the horizon. The sunshine beamed down on the river, making the blue water glitter and gleam on the surface as you watched on. Birds chirped as you enjoyed the warmth of the weather bestowed upon you.

Cold water prickles your hands as you tug the rope to gather the fish traps you had laid in the river yesterday. Thankfully it seemed heavy this time around. You’ll be able to make something for the poor men burning with fevers on your mattress. You hadn't wanted to leave them alone but you had work to do. You needed to gather water for their horses and collect your traps. The small vegetable patch also needed watering so you'd probably have to make another round trip to the river.

Once the dripping basket is in your hands you haul it to the riverbed, struggling as the fish jump around in the woven material. It takes a couple minutes for the movement to finally stop. You deposit all of your catch which consists of a handful of freshwater prawn, three haddock and some anchovies. You gut the fish using the river water to clean off the blood. You hated doing this part but it wasn't like you had anyone to help you anymore.

You missed your parents dearly. Well your mother was dead there's no bringing her back but you wished your daddy would find his way back home to clear his name. That he’ll explain that everything was a misunderstanding and he didn't take anyone's money. He wasn't that kind of man you knew that. He always taught you how to work for an honest living. He lived like that for as long as you can remember. There was no way he ran off with the mayor's money. Yet you had no way to prove his innocence since he disappeared.

Once you're done you place everything in a bucket and carry both the fish and the water back to your little home. You've been struggling to gather game for a couple weeks now, the majority of the traps you'd set were often tampered with or stolen by the time you got back to them. You've resorted to fishing for the time being. You wished the townspeople wouldn't hate you so much. They had already kicked you out of your town home. And returning to your old town was out of the question. It was miles away and you didn't trust anyone in town to take you there, you also didn't have the money to pay them. And you were still hopeful your daddy would return one day.

You're deep in thought on how you're going to prepare for the coming winter when two horses race by you. You halt in fear as you try to make sense of what was happening while trying to clear your vision of dirt. When the dust finally settles your met with two piercing eyes of what looks to be a sheriff of a different town. His uniform is pristine, his bright badge gleams in the morning sun almost blinding you. He had a stern look to him. By the looks of his white hair you'd think he's much older than he is.

“Little lady you shouldn't be out so far out of town by yourself! There's two outlaws on the loose, haven't you heard!?” You take in his stern tone, your mind racing with the information he's just given you. But before you can answer the older gentleman the person beside him speaks up. The voice is jarring as it cuts through your eardrums, bringing back awful memories. It belonged to a man you so unfortunately recognised.

“Don't bother with her sheriff, she's a twofer (loose women). You couldn't make an honest woman out of her even if you tried. She's better off dealing with outlaws by her own self,” all you can do is glare as you take in the hardened face of the mayor's brother. You hadn't realised that he had become a deputy. It's been so long since he's come bothering you, you'd hope he had died of dysentery. You feel bad for the woman in his town. He's probably already abusing the authority he's been given. The sheriff is stunned into silence. But before you can defend yourself from the now balding Calvin, he opens his big mouth again.

“I wouldn't be surprised if she was stealing from the town again, just like her old man eh. Did he ever come back darlin’ or is he still on the run? Have ye resorted to selling your backside for some extra dollars? I wouldn't be surprised if you did,” he lets out a boastful laugh eyeing your patched up dress.

“I told you you'll regret rejecting my marriage proposal. What? I didn't have enough money to satisfy you? You're no better than a trug (low class prostitute). Won't be long until I see you working at the bed-house. I might even take pity on you and try you out for night,” he smirks down at you from his horse as you try to avoid his leering gaze.

Tears obstruct your vision but you try to keep them at bay. You wanted to call him every name in the book for saying all these baseless accusations about you. But he was a beef headed ten cent man who enjoyed tormenting women, especially those who reject his advances. You weren't the first and you wouldn't be the last to deal with his god awful lecherous behaviour.

“Pull in your horns Calvin! That's no way to talk to a lady!”, the sheriff buts in.

“She's no lady sheriff, a trat (pretty girl) maybe but she's a filthy con. One that likes to toll (to entice) men for money,” Calvin continues his rant in spite.

“Stop airin’ your lungs. Excuse us ma’am we'll be on our way then,” though the sheriff was polite you could see the look of what seemed to be distaste in his eyes as he took in your figure and worn out clothing before leaving. They quickly turn their horses in the direction of the town with Calvin mirthfully laughing along the way.

You're left standing there as you try to collect yourself before returning home.

-at the house

"urgh!...", Simon woke in a fright, sweat was pooling from every pore in his body. He frantically looked around the room trying to figure out where he was. It took a while for his memories of the night before to return. His muscles screamed in pain as he fought to try to move them but they weren't cooperating. His body felt hot and sweaty, like his skin was sunburnt.

The sun was setting, his eyes squinted as the dwindling sunshine streamed down from the only window. Damn they were meant to leave before dawn. A whole day had gone by. He feels around his face making sure his bandana was still on before looking over at Johnny. His bandana was still on too. You hadn't tried taking it off. The only difference was that two wet cloths were placed on both of their foreheads and a chipped bowl full of water next to the mattress on the floor. Had you nursed them all day? Where were you now?

"Johnny?... Johnny wake up....," Simon sat up with difficulty calling out Johnny's name but he stayed asleep. Simon felt his forehead before ringing out the cloth and dipping it in the water to reapply. This wasn't good. He's burning up…

He needed to get up to look for some yarrow before things got worse. It'll help reduce their fever and then they'll be able to leave as soon after. The sheriff might have already made it into town. Simon prayed you hadn't met him. This puts them in a very dangerous situation. Simon sits up with great difficulty as the wound on his arm flairs up with pain. But before he can attempt to stand the door opens gingerly. He freezes when he sees you.

Your eyes meet each other and Simon is too stunned to speak. Your eyes are swollen and red, like you've been crying for some time now. He watches you try to hide the tears by looking away and wiping them hastily. A sudden surge of worry and anger fills his body. Who? Who made you cry? Who dared to hurt you?

Yet when he opens his mouth to demand a name the smell of something delicious wafts through the air making his stomach growl unintentionally. You speak up in a whisper before he can, now fully facing him again with a small smile.

“Food is almost ready, I found some yarrow to help with the fever too. I hope your okay with some fish and vegetable soup. I'm sorry I know it isn't much. But it was the best I could do. I'll make you some tea with the yarrow after you finish eating.” Simon hadn't noticed but you carried a small bundle of yarrow in your fidgety hands as you continued whispering trying to not to wake Johnny or possibly trying to prevent him from asking about why you were crying. He'll find out anyway even if it wasn't going to be from your mouth. Why would anyone hurt someone as sweet as you? You almost seemed too good to be true.

“Yes, thank you. Any food is much appreciated, we aren't picky eaters. This is way more than we deserve,” Simon watches you smile so genuinely at his response that it baffles him. All he did was speak politely to you yet you smile like he had plucked stars from the sky. The thing he didn't know was that no one in town has spoken kindly to you in a very long time. So anyone talking to you even if it was normally was something you cherished greatly.

“It'll be done soon. I just needed to grab some salt. Oh.. and I gave your horses some water I hope you don’t mind that I went near them.”

“That's offly kind of you. I'm more surprised they let you near,” Simon grunts as he watches you grab what you need. That being some salt and another pot probably to boil the tea for later. Your dress had patches all over it, probably from you fixing it with whatever fabric you had laying around. The more he looked at you the more he realised how much you were struggling to obtain the bare necessities for living. Yet you remained so kind and generous. Why?...

“Ah it's no trouble at all, they let me pet them so I'm happy with that…Oh! we'll have to patch your wounds again. Let me go get some sterilised water for you!”, you say gazing at his now bloody arm. The stitches must have opened up while he was trying to move. You smile at him on your way out.

Simon thinks to himself as he gazes around you're decrepit home. You really weren't living a good life out here. And you could definitely use some more meat on your bones. Yet you were so kind to feed them and their horses. Simon made a vow to himself there and then that him and Johnny would make sure to leave you behind enough money to sustain you for a couple years. It's the least they could do after all you've done for them.

That reminds Simon he needs to do a parameter check on your house. He'll have to ask you about the sheriff too. But it looked like you were isolated from the town. It was either this or that you rarely went into town for your own reasons. News travels fast, especially in frontier towns. Though it seemed like this was one of the bigger ones. He was glad you would probably be the last person to receive the news. That just meant they could spend a couple days with you without you being afraid of them. And they could leave before you were even given a chance to report them to the sheriff.

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appleblueberry-pie · 5 months

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Honestly trauma bonding is the way to go 😌✨

Reader who adopted a child and loved them more than anything in the world, since she had no family or pets (being spiderwoman is a sacrifice, after all.).

Reader's Green Goblin killed their child brutally in front of her, leaving Reader with immense trauma and depression. (After torturing and then killing GG in the same gruesome way as he did with her child)

Reader who abandons being a Spider-person and goes back to her old job, being a professional gymnast.

Miguel who finds Reader's world, and asks who there isn't a Spider there if the canon event of the radioactive spider biting someone happened long ago.

Miguel who investigating, finds out that Reader is the spider there, however they abandoned their heroic life (mostly because of backlash from the media)

Miguel who one day goes to Reader's house to get answers, first explaining who he is and what the fuck that orange portal is 💀

Miguel understands how Reader feels and explains his backstory, and persuades (forces) Reader to join the Spider Society.

Miguel, that slowly falls in love with Reader and turns into an obsession. Maybe in the future, he can give Reader his kids so they won't have to grieve as much for their dead kids.

You were meant for him.

He shouldn't say that, but no bone or muscle in his entire body disagreed with this statement that he is claiming.

He fell in love with you before he even realized it and happily accepted the fall, knowing just from how you spoke to him, that you know how to love. You love the way that he wants to be loved. And he wants that. He wants you.

He was so goddamn in love with everything about you. He loves the way you speak, the way you carry yourself, the way you look at people, and the way you look at him.

He wants those eyes on him all of the time. So, he tries to work for it.

You looked so tired every single day. Since he found you alone in your apartment of your universe, he knew you held luggage no one else had behind them.

He wanted to at least take half of the weight off of your shoulders. He wanted to brush the midnight tears off of your face. He wanted kiss your callused hands. He wanted to have you.

He truly believes he can fix you.

"There is no fixing me. Nobody can save me."

He had never been so tuned into a conversation before. Mask off, sitting across from you in your living room, on the edge of his seat, staring into your iron eyes. You didn't want to let anyone back in again.

Hearing about your past only made him more determined.

"I can't put that suit back on again.....no. I killed enough people and killed off enough of myself. I don't benefit from that life anymore. Hell, my own city that I fought for doesn't want me anymore. Why the fuck would I even bother trying??" You try to laugh it off and killed the rest of your drink.

"The only person that could make me put that back on is the one I did all of this bullshit for."

You let the silence grow for a little to collect the words building up in your throat. But to speak it was a different battle.

"S/he was mine. S/he was all I had. Every day I had to wake up and go to sleep seeing her/his face, and it's all I needed to continue living another fucking day. And s/he's gone! I thought sparing lives would do me good, and now my babygirl/boy is gone. What the fuck am I supposed to do?" You whispered the words, as if it was forbidden to even speak them aloud.

And every single word you spoke made Miguel feel like he was living in your skin. Every question you asked, everything you said you felt is so close to experience of losing his little girl, it makes him nauseous. He only knew you for a few hours and already wanted to hold you in his arms.

"I can't....I just...can't put that thing back on. I really can't. I'm sorry." Your words slowly turned into a mutter as you fidgeted with your hands.

He doesn't know how many hopeful "yes, you can"s he whispered back to you with comforting (consensual) hugs before you had on that damned suit again and was in the middle of HQ.

His room was quiet. Peaceful, as he typed away on his technology you weren't interested in at all.

You felt so naked in the suit, but for some reason, it made you feel more secure than you'd ever felt these past few years......maybe this would be okay for now.

Miguel looked back at you, seeing you staring off into the distance and stopped typing to place his hand on your shoulder.

You looked up at him with those sad, tired eyes. Just seeing your face as clearly as it was, it continued to give him hope to be the one to support your during your healing process. You clearly needed the help. And if anyone could do it well, he was certain that it would be him.

#yandere #yandere x reader #atsv #atsv miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #yandere atsv #yandere miguel fanfic #yandere miguel o'hara x reader #yandere miguel x reader #yandere spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099

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radiokathryn-if · 1 year

Text

DEMO ☯︎ FAQ ☮︎ DIRECTORY ♪

Nate Nicks has disappeared.

Why should you care? Do you?

You probably should, considering he's the face and host of your extremely popular radio show and you've just landed one of the biggest contracts of your careers.

You are a sound tech engineer and a damn good one at that, while Nate was the face you were the sound, usually your work is strictly behind the scenes, except for the odd occasion when you were needed on air. So when Nate goes missing and you're tasked with filling in his shoes you're practically thrown in at the deep end.

It only gets worse after a missing persons case becomes a murder case and the cast and crew of Radio Kathryn and FloNote Ent become the suspect pool...

RADIO KATHRYN is rated 18+ for explicit language, explicit sexual scenes and references, themes of death and blood, use of alcohol and drugs, physical abuse and violence. please check trigger warnings.

The setting of the 70s is purely for aesthetic and technology. Don't expect era—accurate racism or homophobia as it won't be included in this IF.

FEATURES ☯︎ [ Trigger Warnings ]

fully customise your MC! name, gender&pronouns (M/F/NB), appearance, personality

decide your on air persona──can you hack it in the limelight or will you crack under the pressure?

build your relations──do you get along with your fellow teammates? how about your fanbase? or your company?

+your radio teams backstory──how the four of you (Nate, José, Mica and yourself) got along, created the pirated radio show, how you got signed into legality, how everything went to shit... or not?

romance someone (or not)──featuring eight solo routes and two poly routes OR just enjoy the mystery and figure out a murder!

chose paths that affect the game──your choices matter, and the ending you may or may not get is dependent on them.

decide which kathryn is your mother──and your relationship with her. (Catherine, Kate, Cathy, Katherine or Rynnie)

CHARACTER BREAKDOWN ☮︎ [ RO Intros ]

The Man, The Myth, The Legend. [???]

“Nate Nicks” Nathan Nicholson──he/him. 28. Radio Kathryn's host and front man, adored by thousands. Complete arsehole but somehow it makes him endearing to others. Cocky son of a bitch that let fame get to his head... or is he? Nevertheless, he's missing now and you may have something to do with it.

think a mix between gauge burek and chris veres in druck (2019)

The Benefactor.

“Mr Robinson” Lionel Robinson──he/him. 42. The man who funded your radio show, the one who got you to where you are. Kind, calm and considerate, especially with Nate. But every one has a line to cross at some point and Mr Robinson is not someone to get angry.

think chad michael murray in sullivan's crossing (2023)

The Fiancé. [RO]

“Eva Vidal” Evangeline Vidal──she/her. 25. The woman who's been there from the beginning, your first listener, your first fan. You used to be closer but Nate sunk his teeth in her and pulled her away. You watched her steadily lose her glow and for someone engaged she seems quite jaded at the news of her missing fiancé.

think penélope cruz in vanilla sky (2001) or vicky christina barcelona (2008)

The Best Friend. [RO]

“Mica Hollens” Michael/a Hollens──he/him, she/her. your age (24─28). Your voice of reason in the chaos of life and Radio Kathryn's manager. Your support system and rock, even if they are a bit quick to jump the bullet in your honour. Mica has strong opinions and Nate has never been in their good books, but surely they wouldn't do anything to jeopardise your job.

think tanaya beatty in through black spruce (2018) or alex meraz in mine games (2012)

The Detective. [RO]

“Detective Han” Han Jimin──he/him or she/her. 30. The detective assigned to Nate's missing persons case. They are meticulous and goal oriented and their current goal is figuring you and your work family out. The more you resist the more they're intrigued and the more you help the more you unravel them.

think lee soohyuk in tomorrow (2022) or lee siyoung in sweet home (2020)

The Rival DJ. [RO]

“José Danger” Jose/phine Jeager──she/her or they/them. 26. Nate calls them the traitor─the defector. They used to be part of your team, a co-host with Nate in your beginning days. The two of them worked like magic until Nate was in demand more and José was kicked to the curb. You wonder if the festering grudge they left with is still there... and if it still extends to you.

think zazie beetz in deadpool 2 (2018) or wounds (2019)

The "Hater". [RO]

“Ji Han” Han Ji Young──he/him. 24. The younger brother of Detective Han. Ji Han is not a fan of Nathaniel Nicholson but he is a fan of the songs he plays─or rather the ones you play when he's absent. He's taken the utmost interest in his siblings case, suspiciously enough to become entangled in it more than anticipated.

think a mix of choi san (2022-23) and lee dohyun in 18 again (2020) or the glory (2022)

The "Fan". [RO]

“Fauve” Faye─Mauve Langham──she/her. 25. Fauve is a bit of a groupie, she can admit. She's not totally obsessed with Radio Kathryn, she reasons, she's just invested in the show and even more so in the people behind it. Fauve become more involved in the case of Nate Nicks than she's wanted, leaving you to wonder just what it is that keeps her going─even to the edge of insanity.

think a mix of imogen poots in need for speed (2014) and hayden panettiere in nashville (2012-18)

The Family Man. [RO]

“Mr Lewis” Jackson Lewis──he/him. 33. The night shift receptionist-slash-building coordinator. He usually brings his daughter to sit in on show recordings, seeing as she's got a bit of a crush on Nate─he's a no-bullshit kind of man but his soft spot is his daughter's puppy dog eyes. He just so happens to be the last person to see Nate before he disappeared and you can't help but get the feeling he's not being truthful in his statement about it.

think brian tyree henry in eternals (2021) or atlanta (2016-22)

The Question Mark. [???]

"Who?" ??? ???──unknown.

it'll be revealed later!

©️ bonnie berry 2023────@moretinyideas

──the polymances are between eva and ??? (eva???) as well as fauve and ji han (fauhan)!

──this is totally inspired by episode 2.8 of sister boniface "dead air" but other than the idea of a radio show called Radio Catherine there are no other similarities!

#interactive fiction #interactive story #interactive novel #radio kathryn #radio kathryn if

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maezysworld · 5 months

Text

test subject x the ghoul pt 1

Pairing: cooper howard x fem! cat mutant & sniper reader (thats a mouth full lol)

I've never really written stories like this but i think this is a fun idea so ill try my best anyways please please please msg me if you have ideas and or suggestions (i am sensitive please be nice LMAO)

Warnings: slow burn, writer is dyslexic, might be slightly out of character, a whole lot of guns, not proof read

context: you are part cat due to being experimented on you have the cat ears and eyes along with all there senses (i do plan on making a full backstory)

your on the search for a doctor who has a large sum of caps over his head, you could care less about the caps you don't have a lot to do in this world so you take any opportunity you can to have some fun no matter how risky it could be. considering the amount of caps, you already know it will be quite the task but you don't mind playing with your food.

you've asked around the wasteland a little (not that a lot of people really said anything useful) but any information you got led you to a town called filly. you entered filly walking in trying your best not to draw more attention to yourself, the gasmask your wearing doesn't really help with that but you don't really need people knowing you have animal ears and eyes. you take in your surroundings as you walk with a crowd looking for the highest most excluded building you could see when a ghoul catches your eyes, you walk a bit slower admiring him for a moment watching him roll a vile in between his fingers before snapping out of your trans and picking up you pace again.

you get to the top of the building staying low to the ground making sure no one sees you up here before laying on your stomach and pulling out your sniper riffle. you sit and watch everything for about 7 minutes until a familiar doctor falls into you glance. you don't even bother lining up your scope to his head, you don't feel the need to someone else is bound to get him after you shoot him regardless but that's more then okay with you, you don't mind playing a waiting game.

you see him talking to a vault dweller just before an older woman who seems to run a shop approach them, you try you best to listen in but all you can seem to make out is the shop owner saying something about getting out of here. "this gasmask is fucking me over" you whisper with a sigh readjusting your arm a bit to be more comfortable.

suddenly the ghoul stands up, along with a few people just now noticing there's a ghoul in the town as they cautiously speed walk away from the area. the ghoul shouts something about this doctor having a hefty price over his head as almost everyone moves away from the man. a sly smile grows on your face now knowing hes involved with this bounty as well. the shop owner says something and before she can even finish her sentence the ghoul shoots the mans foot off, the poor vault dweller just stands there in fear and confusion, a wave of sympathy overcomes you knowing you were just like her you almost wish you still were.

the old woman shouts "i gotta 1000 bottle caps for who ever kills that fucker!!... but you dont get SHIT if i kill em first!". your not to sure why but after hearing that you start to focus your scope on anyone who starts to even look at him. the ghoul holds his gun out gun on the trigger ready to shoot just waiting for someone to make the first move as he looks around in a circle. a man in a black hat and googles pulls out his gun but before he can even pull the trigger the ghoul shoots him in the chest, his bullet exploding on impact. immediately after more people start shooting at him, he turns in a circle again shooting anyone who try's to get near him as you shoot the people from a distance. in all honesty you know he probably doesn't need your help but still you continue with out a reason to be doing so. you see someone trying to come at him with a knife from behind and just as the ghoul turns around to attack you shoot the man with the knife and the glare of your scope hits the ghouls eye and he looks up as you give a slight wave right before pointing to signal behind him as a brother a steel knight shows up.

you see the old woman and the vault dweller go run and hide into the shop bringing the doctor with him. you know you wont to much to the walking tin man so you decide to go down and listen in. you try your best to sneak in with out anyone seeing you but as the ghoul is on some broken steps you look over at him and with out a doubt he was looking dead at you before getting right back into combat. you ignore it and continue to snoop in on the others.

you keep your back pressed tightly agents the wall. hear the woman convince the vault dweller to take the doctor to moldaver, you've heard of the woman but have never had any encounters with her based off the things you've heard you know this will be a good time (you would have never found anything about this situation fun before the war). you start making your way out of the building after hearing that its plenty for you to go off along with now having both the doctor and the vault dwellers sent. you decide to hide in a ally and wait for things to die down before leaving.

after about 9 minutest you don't hear metal clacking or guns shooting you start to leave filly. you didnt get to far outside of the town before you hear a gun cock behind you "aint you a little over prepared?" you hear a mans voice with a southern accent referring to your gas mask. you turn to face the voice seeing the ghoul you've been eyeing this whole trip "doesn't effect you now does it? is the gun really nectary after i helped you?" you scoff offended but knowing youd do the same "now i aint ask you to do that for me, did i?" he says finger on the trigger. you think for a moment 'rude ass' you think to yourself "i guess not, but a thank you would be nice" you say with sarcasm in your voice. The Ghoul keeps his eyes upon you as you speak, the gun never moving. He lets out a short laugh at your attempt to engage. "You want a thank you for a job half done? bailed in the middle of a fight.. not that id thank you anyways i didnt need your help smooth skin. what's you goal here you tryn to steal my bounty" he says sounding more relaxed than he should be. "not necessarily, i don't want the caps if that's what your worried about." the gun never wavers even as you speak. "so just what do you want then?". "entertainment, not much to do in this world." you say with a smile on your face, not that he can see it. The Ghoul is surprised by your answer. He lowers his gun slightly, looking you up and down, but still doesn't trust you. "You ain't got better things to do with your time? Like finding food, or water, or caps?". those things are all fairly easy to come across for you, your sneaky and when you want something you take it. "lets say that all comes easy" Something you said intrigues him, and his gaze lingers on you a little longer. He shifts his weight to his left foot, and holsters his gun. "You saying food, water, caps just comes to you?". you relax abit more now that his guns down "i never said that, its just easy to get. now i have some information that may be of use to you, and im more then happy to give it under one condition" The Ghoul's interest is piqued. His curiosity getting the better of him, he nods his head. He wants to see if what you're peddling is actually worth something. "And what would that condition be?". you feel excited, youve never traveld with someone much less had company in years and the though of him agreeing (even if its not very friendly) makes you happy "i come with you on your bounty." He considers it, still not fully trusting you, but also intrigued by your offer. "And why the Hell would I want you along for a bounty hunt? Why should I trust you? What's to stop you from just turning on me? "he responds "you interest me, my weapons aren't out now are they? if i wanted to kill you i would have done it while i was on the roof" you say slightly muffled from your gas mask. He looks at you for a moment, thinking it over. He didn't like the idea of traveling with someone he didn't know, but he wouldnt mind the help from someone who knows how use to use a gun(not that he'd ever admit that). "Fine, we'll go after the bounty. But the second I even get a hint you're planning something, I'll kill you where you stand. We clear?". "understood." you say trying your hardest not to sound excited. He nods, then turns and begins walking away the dog standing behind him following. He calls over his shoulder to you.

please let me know what you guys think of this and im open to any suggestions and ideas ( i would also love name ideas for this) :)

notes: @s-lock-doctordonna I LOVED YOUR IDEAS AND I WILL BE USEING THANK YOU <3

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout #fallout show #fallout series #fallout x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul fallout #fallout fanfic #cooper howard #cooper howard x female reader

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necstasy · 5 months

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public sex; oral (f receiving); masochism & LEE inspo from this post by @too-deviant MDNI 18+

you could blame your current position on a lot. the heat of summer that always made you want to take risks. the horrible breakup you were still struggling to get over. your recent celibacy. maybe there wasn't one root cause. maybe each of them worked together, building onto the other until all it took was a catalyst—him—to make you pursue what was really an irresponsible action.

it was only irresponsible if you got caught, though. at least, that's what he whispered against your lips before he began his familiar journey down, lower and lower until his lithe fingers were pushing the button of your shorts through the hole and he was soon peeling the denim off of you completely.

and now he's here, laid between your legs with nothing but the dense curls of his dyed pink hair visible. you're tucked in a corner of the park you hadn't known about, not until he led you here with mischievous eyes and a charming smile, one that charismatic words floated out of, luring you into giving in time and time again.

you keep telling yourself you won't go back. you barely know this guy. even though this arrangement has been going on for weeks now, there's nothing you know about him other than his first name (lee. he says it sounds prettier coming from your mouth), and some vaguely tragic backstory. but the other things that you know about him, notably how skilled he is with what God has given him, is what pulls you back into his trap.

is it a trap, though? surely a trap doesn't bring someone this much pleasure.

your back arches as lee places his hands under your thighs and pulls you closer, if even possible. the action knocks his divine nose into your cunt, nudging the bump in it against your clit. you hum, using one hand to scrunch the old fabric of the picnic blanket that lies beneath you (lees, this is another thing you know about him now, he keeps picnic blankets in his deep green jeep for whenever you forget yours) and the other to scrunch in lee's hair.

when he hums against you and lifts one hand to your wrist, you think you're being too rough. your immediate instinct is to pull away from lee and apologize. but then he's blindly fumbling from your hand, and when he doesn't find it soon enough he lifts his face from your cunt. and the sight is one to heavenly.

lee's green eyes are lidded in the way that they were the one time he came to your house under the influence (it was the only time he was ever there, for fear that one of your parents would find out and you would be too embarrassed and ashamed to continue with your rendezvous). his lips are so pink, and they shine under the late afternoon sun. his chin is the same, and even a little bit of his nose. you're so busy admiring just how pretty he looks that it takes you a second too late to realize that he has you on him.

he watches you as he grabs your hand and directs it to his hair. when your fingers are laced as close to his scalp as they can get, he tells you, "harder."

you grip harder.

"harder," he demands.

you grip even harder.

and then once more, "harder," he begs.

and when you've pulled to the point where you think you're hurting him, he groans softly and his eyes flutter shut, and he dives back in to your cunt with fueled fervor.

#&. WRITING #&. lee #lee bones and all x reader #lee bones and all x you

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magicalmanhattanproject · 1 year

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so i wanna talk about 2b2t, specifically as a backstory for qfit. because the thing is everyone talks about 2b2t as a wasteland and a wreck and a bombed out warzone and like. it sure as hell isn't not that. but it's also a server that people keep on coming to. it's a server that takes pride in actively murdering new members, but it's a server that keeps on having new members

so, what's the draw? what keeps people coming and coming back?

well, the thing about an anarchy server is that it has no rules, be they rules of society or rules of reality

the way i think about 2b2t is that it's a fucked up wonderland. like you know when someone makes a deal with a sinister fairy and it comes true in the worst way for them possible? that's how everything works on 2b.

you want infinite blocks for your builds? sure, the griefers have infinite tnt too. you want infinite totems to stay alive? sure, end crystal pvp means you're gonna need every last one of them. you want fame and fortune for griefing a legendary build? sure, you got a target on your back for the rest of your life though

but the thing is that the metaphorical fucked up fairies are busy. it's down to the individual server members to take care of the double dealing and the double crossing and the wreaking of havoc. and they do! with delight! but they can't* be everywhere at once.

so, you have a chance. you can get lucky. you can get lucky for a while. you can build a nice little life for yourself. you can even get it off the back of tearing other people down if you're quick and you're clever and that's much faster and easier than trying to grind your own resources the vanilla way when every moment is a race against the clock before your base gets found and griefed but you can try and you can do pretty well and you can try again and you can try to get revenge and you can make friends and you can make enemies and you can have everything you ever wanted for the low, low price of everything you ever had and why not pay it when you can just build it all back up again

the other things about 2b2t that i think points to fucked up fairy wonderland instead of standard wartime dystopia is so much of how the server works is really best understood as necromancy-adjacent. so every account is a different person, right? well, some people have a half dozen faces just in case someone finds out where one sleeps. sometimes. there was that one time one guy's shambling corpse** just got reanimated by a completely different guy who took over his identity and no one really minded when they found out

there's an entire population of bots that move and act like players and communicate in all the ways players can barring hte most intimate*** and they literally can't be distinguished from players in most circumstances but they're used as delivery drones so they'll bring you a package and then die in front of you so you can't follow them back to the cache

like this is just!! a thing!!! that people live with!!!!!!!

2b2t has highway unions!! it also has collectives who go around destroying the highways!! there are compassionate souls making community areas!! those areas are griefed to hell and back but not beyond recognizibility!!

it's all just an absolutely fascinating world and it deserves to be explored in how it affects fit's character a lot more than just "ptsd from bombs" even though that's also a massive part of it

*NOCOM notwithstanding

**To be clear bc it wasn't a roleplay bit, the original player is still alive, but he's got no intention of returning to 2b2t so his cubito is definitely dead.

***They can like spam crouch and send messages in chat and you're not gonna want to hop in a vc with a rando from 2b2t

#sorrelposting #qsmp #fitmc #qsmp fitmc

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2smolbeans · 8 months

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Yandere Obey Me Human World Au Writing Event! (Insert Your Mc!)

Summary:

Lurking around and thriving on earth as the seven deadly sins, the seven brothers often find themselves walking amongst the earth to explore and terrorize any humans that they find. While they spent their time on earth, they happened to find themselves sprialing into an obession for a particular human that caught their eye..Determined to get what they want, the avatar of the deadly sin is eager to steal, kill, and destroy anything in their path in order to have their precious darling.

The question is.. How will this darling handle this situation? Will they try to fight the inevitable? Accept their fate? Or perhaps escape their intense love?

The choice is yours.

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Disclaimer: This is free to use as long as you tag or credit me! @2smolbeans

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Rules:

There is no deadline for this event!

Please state that NO MINORS are allowed to interact with this post.

The story in the beginning must take place in the human world. Otherwise, as the story progresses, you can change the world building to whatever you want.

You can have as many demons as you want pinning for your Mc! (Ex. Leviathan x Mammon x Your Mc!).

No demoncest allowed.

You can add more than one or two Mcs if you have any!

Smut or Nsfw elements are optional to write.

Any writing format such as a headcanon post, jot notes, or even a scene is acceptable! However you want to express your thoughts - do it!

The oneshot/chapters can be as long as you want.

If you are going into triggering, dark, or dead dove do not eat territory, ADD WARNINGS.

With the tags already given below in each section, they are optional to follow! They are put there to just help or give ideas of how you want your story to progress.

You can shape or finish the story however you want to. Just make sure it makes sense given your backstory.

You aren't allowed to change the complete backstory of your chosen demon. However, you can add small details and change little bits of it. (Ex. The story takes place in the 50s, Mc isn't human, Mc is already in a relationship)

Side characters such as: (Simeon, Solomon, Thirteen, Mephistopheles, and Raphael) are allowed to be mentioned or paired with Mc!

If you have any questions regarding this masterlist, message me or put in an anon ask!

Don't forget to tag and credit me! I would love to see what you guys come up with!

And of course, have fun!

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Lucifer:

You are finally getting a start in your career. Everything is going smoothly, and you are gradually gaining popularity! But there's a rumor that's ruining your reputation and threatening everything.. Desperate, you call out to a demon through an ancient blood ritual. At first, it doesn't work, and feeling humilated at your stupid attempt - you prepare to clean up and go home. But with the room turning black and a hand touching your shoulder- Lucifer Morningstar himself looks at you with a soft smile and offers his hand for whatever deal you want to make. You say your terms, and he says his. Shaking his hand, the deal is sealed, and you find yourself soul bonded to him through a ring that is secured on your left ring finger. His low voice filled the air as he carressed your face, the sweet blind danger now trapping your fate. You unknowingly tried to escape in a previous life..

"My love, my beloved spouse, it's so good to see you again..I'm so glad you finally called out to me again."

"I mean how could you not? You are mine forever..You don't remember me do you? That's okay, I forgive you, time is in our hands."

"Now, I'll take care of whatever pests are bothering you - and I'll take you home where you belong. Now, now, don't struggle."

"You don't want me to do something you won't like."

Tags: Mc was with Lucifer in a previous life, blackmail, implied physical abuse, Mc thought they summoned a lower demon and not Lucifer himself, it's up to you if your Mc figures out what happened to them in their previous life, sadism, mind reading, forced marriage.

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Mammon:

Ever since the break up with your boyfriend, you've been an complete utter mess. You'll get over this, you thought, time heals. But as days turn to months, you were fed up with the constant pain that came from missing your now ex boyfriend. So fed up and looking for a quick solution to get over him, you decided to do the one thing you never thought you would've done...

Clubbing.

Every night you went, expecting to just wash away your feelings with alcohol and strangers. Though one day, it all changed when you had bumped into a particular white-haired male. He looked like your typical fuck boy with the obnoxious amount of jewelry adorned on his body and the open V neck shirt that exposed his chest. But to your surpirse, he was shockingly sweet when he saw right through your grief through that happy mask of yours.

One thing led to the next, you hugged him with tears in your eyes, thanking him for listening to your problems. From then on, something just clicked inside him. It felt good.. It felt eletricifying buying you things you enjoyed, giving his precious time and money, feeling rewarded every time you smiled. You made him go against his very nature, his very sin, his greed. Fuck you made the avatar of greed enjoy being charitable!

He needed to know more about you, he wanted more of you.. And more of you he got..

"I don't understand what type of idiot would just easily let ya go... If I were him, I'd make sure you'd never leave my sight, EVER."

"Seriously, what a dumb nuts. He's probably so fucking stupid that he'd probably kill himself out of stupidity. Man, wouldn't that be a total shame.."

"Hey..If you knew something terrible about me, you'd still stick by me, right? You said you'd stick by me no matter what. That wasn't a lie, right? You need me.. right?"

Tags: stalking, strangers to bestfriends, heartache, Mc has no idea Mammon is THE Mammon, manipulation, gaslighting, Mammon exploits Mc's grief as a way to 'win' their heart, exploitation of Mc's insecurities.

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Leviathan:

You hated every fiber of their being. They were so insufferable in every possible way that you fummed in anger whenever they were mentioned to you in any way. So how come they got everything without any effort, while you had to struggle your way to earn what you needed? It wasn't fair. Why did they have to be in your life? Every day, you chewed at your fingertips, annoyed and enraged with them dancing in your mind. Why did everyone like them? Why did you hate them? Why were they so insufferable? Why couldn't they just suffer the same way you were? Full of resentment and shame, you stalked and scrolled mindlessly through their social media, not knowing a particular someone had been watching you for a good while..

"What makes you think you could run away from me? Every part of me is ingraved inside of you. So just please stop being difficult.. I can be better than the fucking shit you obsess over."

"Why do I even bother with you anyway? I could've been better off with someone else, but for some reason, it had to be you."

"Don't you realise how special that is?! Out of all the beings I could've been with, I want you! I love you..Why can't you love me as much as you hate them?"

"Things were so good when you didn't know..Ugh, why did I think it was a good idea to show you what I really was..."

"Why can't you look at me? Look at me. I SAID LOOK AT ME."

Tags: the thing mc wants could be either a lover, object, or dream career- it's up to you, Jealousy, demon contract, Leviathan is a two faced snake in this prompt, stalking, guilt tripping, murder, forced relationship, violenece, eventual kidnapping, Leviathan is a pathetic but terrifying yandere who is easily enraged.

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Satan:

Wake up, get dressed, take the subway, sit in that awful chair for hours, go home, sleep, repeat. Every day seemed like a ticking time bomb. You wanted something more in life. You wanted more than to just repeat the same cycle of something meaningless. The littlest of things had always annoyed you whenever you forced yourself to go through the day. You hated how people tsked and laughed at the most mundane things, you despised the way your ugly uniform uncomfortably rubbed against your body, you would bite the inside of your mouth until it bled at the thought of having to sit in a room with those god awful people whenever there was a group project.

But you still maintained a smile.

There always seemed to be a knawing pain that clawed at your chest. You didn't know how to describe it, but it was there. Everyday that boiling pot of water inside you would brew and steam inside of you, and eventually you had snapped.

With bloodied hands and a smile on your face, you had finally found an outlet for your anger. If it wasn't for that tempting voice inside your head, you wouldn't have known of what to do! But thankfully with this newfound pleasure, you had found a way to enjoy your life throughout the annoyances.

But things don't last forever. In the corner of your eye during one of your "cleanups", you swore you saw a familiar blonde co-worker spy on you.

"What's wrong, hmn? Scared? But I thought you liked me? Have you been lying to me this whole time?"

"Let's make a deal. You do what I say, and I won't say a word about the people you've.."ranted" to. In return, you do everything I say."

"So please stop crying over nothing..Or else I'll give you something to cry about."

Tags: Mc is a murderer, Satan has been disguising himself as a human, blackmail, transactional relationship, coerced violence, and mental manipulation.

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Asmodeus:

You were going through college having the time of your life. Parties, men and women flocking to you, drinking, and just overall making new friends! Sure you had classes to catch up on, and sure you could be more careful handling the feelings of the people you've misled..But you were living your life! If they got so bumhurt because of you, then that was their fault for expecting more from you!

Though eventually, all the clubbing and partying got to the best of your grades, so you seeked out a tutor to help you out. Unexpectingly, the tutor you would found just so happened to be someone exactly just like you. He was someone well put together, someone who was the loud and cheerful, someone who knew how to get underneath people's skin. When it came to partying and seeking out that 'high', you and him were completely in sync with each other.

You kindled a friendship with him while he brewed a different type of bond in his mind..

"You're just as terrible as me darling, so don't act like you're all innocent and gentle. Come on.. Let's be horrible together, forever! It's not like you had a choice anyway."

"Come on! Don't force me to do something you wouldn't like darling."

"I always get what I want, so stop resisting, or else I'll chop those pretty fingers off, understand? Good job~"

Tags: Kidnapping, narcasism, both Mc and Asmodeus are terrible people, drugging, forced alchohol consumption, love bombing, black mailing, forced relationship.

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Beelzebub:

Working at a local bakery is calming and relaxing. Oftentimes, when work was over, you would secretly take whatever left overs where supposed to be thrown out for yourself to take home. One day, as you were preparing to shut down the shop, you saw a familiar ginger customer on his knees in distress. He was alone, disheveled, and on the floor in that alleyway. Pulling out your phone to zoom in onto the site so that you didn't have to walk in that alleyway (He was a big man afterall), you fought the urge to scream as he turned to reveal blood covered all over his mouth. Trying to record the sight to use as evidence for the authorities, you were horrified to see your phone spazzing out and glitching whenever you pointed the camera in his direction.

Mortified as you realised that the man on all fours was devouring someone beyond recognition, you ran as fast as you can- not realising Beelzebub already knew who you were and when you saw him. The next day, when you opened the shop, you were paranoid of seeing him again..It was fine at first since he seemed to dissapear for a while.

But to your misfortune, little by little, you would see him lurking around the shop and your lovely home. Eventually, one day, as you thought his stalking wouldn't get worse, the ginger haired male decided to order something from your shop! After all, he was always a regular. Taking his order as you shuddered at every word that came out of his mouth, his frame towered over you, and seeing you face to face up so close- he flashed a smile that exposed the gnarly fangs that were once covered in human flesh and blood.

"You saw me, didn't you?"

"Why haven't you done anything? Are you scared of me? You're like a small chimpmunk..So cute"

"I can smell every part of you..And you're just filled with fear..Aren't you just sweet?"

"I won't hurt you, so please don't be afraid of me. But you know what I am, so I'm afraid I can't leave you alone"

"I'll see you later, my adorable snack sized human"

Tags: Beel eats humans, stalking, murder, blackmail (Beel threatens to eat your loved ones if you don't do what he wants), possessive behavior, entitlemented from Beel, threatening.

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Belphegor:

Every day, you could barely keep yourself steady. Your brain was always foggy, room always a mess, and just overall, you could be doing better. But oh well, what's the bother? Things weren't that bad. You work a typical retail job. You could've done better, but it was too much of a hassle to go back to school and get that degree. You knew that if you had just pushed yourself more, you could've been doing a lot better than the same 9-5 job. But you're comfortable where you're at, and that's all that mattered to you. Plus, why bother trying when you could just live the luxurious life in your dreams without having to do much?

Your parents called you lazy for this, and your friends commented on how much your slothfulness was starting to worry them. But you couldn't care. Nothing mattered to you anyway. Going to sleep after finishing a shift, you drifted away, meeting a particular demon who would soon regularly torment you for his own pleasure and admiration. He would only come into your dreams, so he was harmless at best, or so you thought..

"What's the matter? Trying to wake up? Aww that's adorable..What? You want to wake up? Mhn..I don't want you to though. I like this.. It's easier to hold you"

"I wonder how long it would take them to find you. It's been a day since we've both been here.."

"If you want to wake up, you know that you'll have to do what I say, right? Or maybe you just need some more rest to think about it.."

"It's funny.. How many days will it take until for your body to rot into the matress?"

"It doesn't matter if you live or die. I'll have you either way. Whether it's on earth or forever in hell together."

Tags: Forced sleep, self-loathing, dissociation, violence, mental torture, emotional abuse.

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pedgito · 9 months

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𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Four: Snowball Fights, Shared Space & Understanding (Week Three)

Chapter Summary: As your vacation is quickly coming to an end, you and Joel find that opening up to each other is easier but bittersweet, knowing you have little time left to spend together.

Chapter Warnings: (9k) : no outbreak, vague backstory for reader (mentions of rocky relationship with parents, reform school, rebellious behavior), vague backstory for joel (mentions of alcohol, poor decision making, endangering sarah at a young age), snowman building, joel refuses to have a sweet tooth, slight somnophilia at the beginning (joel is half-awake), solo masturbation, unprotected piv, very light choking, if i missed anything please let me know!

There’s a thready pulse to your heart that startles you awake, ripping you from your dreams—Joel’s hands all over, his hot touch setting your body on fire, mumbling things into your skin that you can’t make out—mindless words that only make sense to him, and the consistent throbbing of your cunt as he grinds, grinds, grinds until you think he might just slip inside of you with how persistent he’s being and then you’re gasping awake—

But, Joel’s still there and his hands are all over you. He’s asleep, mostly. Your thigh tucked over his hips where he’s got his hand twisted in your shorts and ruts his hips insistently against your cunt, face slightly twisted up in frustration at the annoying lack of tangible friction.

He’s dry humping you in his sleep and he’s being needy about it, the lack of barrier from exhaustion allowing you a small glimpse into just how deprived Joel was, at least, in the moment.

You shake him gently, fighting back the urge to moan out loudly, just the impression of his thick cock against you driving you mad, his grip barricading you in and not giving you much room to move. If he was going to keep you stuck here, you were going to make the most of it.

When he doesn’t wake, you shift your weight slightly until you’re fully seated in his lap, chest pressed against his own and you notice the furrow of worry lines between his brow, wondering curious about what he was imagining in his mind, even as his grip grew tighter, blunt nails pressing into soft, warm skin.

You rock your hips ever so slightly, hands pressed into the mattress beneath you both for leverage, eyes locked on Joel as you drink in the sight of him, completely vulnerable, no masking his emotions. There's a soft groan, a shift of his hips as he spreads his legs and it forces you more upright in fear of falling as you slap your hands against his chest softly to steady yourself.

“Hmmm,” It’s a long sigh, a deep breath through his nose as he stirs, “mornin’ to you too, darlin’.”

The sticky sweet thickness to his voice shouldn’t make you smile, but it does. You rock your hips more insistently now as he blinks himself awake, mouth catching open in a soft moan as he shifts himself more rightfully into place, eyes half-lidded as he gazes upon you, like the idea of taking his eyes off you might actually kill him.

“Could’ve woke me up, y’know.” He continues, gripping you more securely as his hands settle against your hips, aiding in the impatient grind against his quickly hardening cock, trapped underneath a pair of sleep pants that you were nearly ready to rip away from his body.

“Joel,” You release a breathy laugh, head thrown back as you stare at the ceiling, grinding down a little harder for good measure, forcing a rough groan from his throat, “you woke me up—someone was having a very…good dream. I hope.”

Joel rises slowly, arm circling your waist until he can position his back against the headboard but still keep you securely in his lap, saving him the trouble of dealing with the ache earlier, allowing the gentle touch you lay to his face before your hands quickly disappear into his hair, pulling at the salt and peppery strands until it engages some type of reaction, a subtle smirk as he encourages the intensity of your rut, pussy having already soaked through your underwear and quickly dampening his own clothes—and he feels it, the soaking wet heat that he didn’t realize he could crave like this.

He got it out of his system. He was fine.

No. Not fine at all, actually.

Joel chuckles at that, knowing his guilt but not immediately admitting it.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ bout,” Joel says, tendons in his neck stressing as he strained his neck, head rolling against the headboard as you circled your hips playfully—”Goddamn, that’s—”

Joel’s eyes squeezed close, a shallow breath slipping past his lips. Neither of you were going to come like this, you knew that much. But, it was fun to watch Joel squirm a little and leave him hot and bothered for the rest of the day.

Joel knew he couldn’t quit you now, not a chance against the conniving smirk on your face as you slow to a definite stop, standing on both legs and adjusting your clothes hastily.

“Breakfast?” You question kindly.

Yeah, fuckin’ breakfast. Joel huffs out a tired chuckle and nods.

He knows he should restrain himself, keep his walls up, but there was something about you that made it impossible, his eyes watching the gentle sway of your hips as you leave him high and dry from his own selfish actions.

A short breakfast and front row seat of Joel chopping wood, to which you openly joined this time, all snuggled up in your biggest winter coat as you gawked openly for the duration, a sly smirk on Joel’s face every time he swung the axe above his head.

The throb in your cunt was a dangerous sign, that even the most mundane things had you drooling over this man—chopping wood, cooking, housework.

It was abysmal.

Once done, you manage to argue Joel into letting you help with a few stacks of wood so he didn’t bear the load himself, to which he begrudgingly agrees.

A few minutes and a couple less layers later, you’re both hovering around the kitchen, wandering about aimlessly for something to cure the cold.

Joel slides you a steaming cup of hot cocoa after a while, topped off with a mountain of tiny marshmallows as he leaves his bare and it’s an atrocity, really.

“Joel, seriously?” You ask, dead-staring him over the rim of your cup, cradled between your two hands as you lean forward against the counter, elbows propped up against the marble. “No marshmallows is a little ridiculous.”

“What?” He sounds offended, he is. Damn marshmallows, fuck ‘em. “I like what I like.”

And there’s a double meaning there, hell, even a triple. But, you leave it alone.

“You know what else is ridiculous,” You start, not allowing him to answer as you think out loud, “this cabin doesn’t even have a Christmas tree but they decorated the shit out of the outside.”

Joel chuckles against the mug as he sips loudly.

“Yeah, I noticed that too.” Joel comments, “Guessin’ they blew the budget on the lights.”

“You always put your tree up for Christmas?” You ask curiously.

Joel shakes his head, “Sometimes. You?”

Right. He wouldn’t know these things. But, with a level of trust built, you’re willing to share.

“Yeah—every fuckin’ year, right at the beginning of November. They don’t even wait until after Thanksgiving, it’s a little obnoxious.” You admit, placing your cup against the counter gently and folding your arms over your chest, “The few years I didn’t spend with them were actually nice, got to decorate my own little tree, even if I didn’t have anything to put under it.”

Color Joel intrigued, he raises his eyebrows slightly, “Care to elaborate on that?”

“All girls’ military school,” You smirk, deconstructing Joel’s reaction carefully—his face softens, grips tightening around the handle of his cup and he grunts, shaking his head slightly, “—don’t worry, it wasn’t all bad.”

“Doesn’t seem right,” Joel argues, “sendin’ you away like that.”

“I wasn’t great, Joel,” You admit, “I was staying out after curfew, drinking, hanging around people I shouldn’t have—I was trying to rebel against my parents for smothering me all the time and it eventually got to a point where they didn’t know how to handle me.”

Joel mirrors you now, cup resting on the table as he leans his hip into the counter and crosses his arms, “So, I’m guessin’ it worked then?”

You shrug, “I was there for a few years, until my final year of high school. It was nice—if I wanted to be alone, I could be. But, there were always people to talk to, so it wasn’t like I was sequestered the entire time. Every Christmas we’d pull a name and have to make something for someone—I got really good at knitting there for a while.”

“Knitting,” Joel tests the words on his tongue, almost like he’s teasing you, “that’s…nice.”

“Shut up,” You reach across the counter to shove him gently, “You carve wood, okay?”

Fair is fair. Joel nods knowingly.

“It kept me out of trouble, though,” You continue, “—and even if my relationship with my parents is still weird, I see why they did it now, definitely not at the time. I was young, I wanted to be treated like I was older…and now that I’m older, well—”

“It sucks.” Joel deduces.

“Not entirely,” Your eyes soften, the corner of your mouth turning upwards, “—what about you?”

“I tried to set a good example,” Joel starts, “for my brother and all—”

Woah, brother?

You hold your hands up to stall him, “Okay—walk that back, brother? You have a brother?”

“Younger,” Joel says, “By about five years. His name is Tommy.”

Joel and Tommy. Sarah and Joel. They’re names you store away into your brain, little keepsakes as memories of a man you would soon forget.

“Anyways, I was gettin’ into a lot of fights, mostly for him.” Joel shakes his head at the thought, “Scrawny little shit who thought he was tougher than he actually was at the time, it was never anything good when he came runnin’ my way.”

You understand his quickness to defense now, always ready to protect himself.

“So, you’re a family man,” You deduce with a soft smile, “I guess that tracks.”

Joel raises a questionable eyebrow, lazily making his way around the island to stand beside you, less distance craved after a night of intense connection that left you both craving more. He doesn’t touch, just leans an arm on the counter and allows it to support his weight.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug, “You seem like you have a natural instinct for taking care of people, no matter how grumpy you try to come across.” Joel’s heard that before, nearly a million times.

“C’mon brother, stop bein' such a downer.” Tommy would nag when Joel would rather spend a night in.

“Dad, why are you always so upset?” Sarah would ask, catching the permanent scowl on Joel’s face.

And it wasn’t that he was always angry or riddled with something on his mind, but after years of feeling like he was always coming up short and being served the short end of the stick, it had morphed into his personality.

Though, here, it’s waned with each passing day. It’s like a heavy weight lifting off of his chest that’s been there for years—not easily fixed in one day, but possibly over time.

“Got a lot on my mind,” Joel offers vaguely, “and a lot goin’ on outside of here.”

Here. With you. In the safety of this cabin. A bubble from the outside world.

You purse your lips after a long sip, fingers tapping against the ceramic mug as you contemplate how far you wanted to drive this conversation, curious if Joel would open up more or not. He’s got his eyes on you now, the fingers curled into a fist twitching slightly beside yours like he was willing himself from reaching out to touch, begging for another moment of connection.

“I’m gonna ask you something,” You tell him, “but I understand if it’s too personal…”

Joel hates the preemptive hesitance in your voice, but he nods.

“Your daughter, Sarah—I’m guessing you split custody with her mom?”

Joel breathes out slowly, wondering how deep he should delve into the mess that he’d created so long ago. A mistake that uprooted his life and tore his family from him.

“Yeah—I get ‘er every other Christmas and every other Summer.” Joel explains, quiet as he hikes a foot onto the footrest under your stool, reaching up hesitantly to wipe away the hot cocoa residue you had acquired on your top lip, fingers lingering around your mouth, “so, I had her this summer, next year I’ll have Christmas with her.”

You slice the tension and grab hold of his palm gently, slipping his thumb into your mouth to rid him of the sticky residue, noting the small change in his gaze and the way his shoulders shift back.

He knows he has to cut this short or things will never get done, pulling back gently as he takes a glance outside. It’s a calm day, disregarding the mountains of snow.

“I’m gonna shovel the drive and head into town, maybe grab a couple movies while I’m there.” Joel tells you, “Comin’ with?”

And as much as you’d love to jump on the opportunity, you decide against it.

“I think I’m gonna try and take a nap,” You chide playfully, “because, for some reason—just couldn’t go back to sleep this morning.”

Joel makes a soft hum noise, aiming to look clueless but looking more guilty than anything.

You smile more cheerfully and slip off of the stool, bodies pressed chest to chest.

“Oh, don’t look so innocent.” You tease, brushing your lips against his gently and Joel goes still, eyes following your movement as you almost, almost kiss him, breath fanning against his lips as you speak, “But, if you’re gonna get that frisky in your sleep you might as well fuck me.”

Joel knows what you’re implying, sees the spark in your eye as you catch his gaze, the hotness of your touch on his as your hands resting against his side, the steady rhythm of your breathing from where your chest is pressed against his.

“I’ll be back in a couple hours,” Joel tells you bravely, despite the growing hardness in his jeans that he knows you can feel, “Three, tops.”

Somehow, you think it’ll take him half the time.

As if you could actually nap.

That wasn’t happening.

You try to give it some time, even shrugging on your coat to take a short walk outside and cool off, but you ran hot and bothered and it was all entirely Joel’s fault. You couldn’t tag along during the ride because you were positive it would’ve ended with you bent over his lap or his cock buried in your mouth somewhere off the side of a road, uncaring of the cars that pass by.

About a hour into Joel’s time away, you find yourself on the couch on your back, book held up by tired arms, reading the same passage over and over until your brain hurts, the words morphing together and the insistent throb between your legs from this morning still there, stronger even.

There was never a time that you’ve felt this strongly toward anyone, tangible feelings or not.

You slap the book against the couch arm above your head and huff, hands resting against your chest as you count the wooden panels in the ceiling, fingers tapping insistently against shirt.

It’s been an hour, given he didn’t speed you might have about another hour or so until he comes back. But, the roads had to be clearer than last week and before, so there’s no telling. But, you know the drive is long and even if Joel sped there and back, you’d have enough time to…handle your issue.

And, you could’ve moved this to the bedroom, but where was the fun in that?

There’s a half second where you hesitate against pushing your pants down completely, fearful that you may be caught, but there wasn’t a chance of it aside from the birds that chirped outside the window and Joel had flustered you to no end this morning—you were allowing yourself this.

With nimble fingers, you undress from the waist down, clothes haphazardly thrown to the floor, feet planted lazily against the cushions as you trailed a slow finger down your abdomen, stopping briefly as you lingered, thinking about Joel and his thick fingers, overworked and attuned to a woman’s body.

You weren’t so sorely lacking in experiences, but you had truly been robbed of a good, good hookup–too many flimsy college boys who couldn’t figure it out, never worried about your needs and purely their own. And as easily as you could satisfy yourself—it just wasn’t enough.

Until last night.

Joel, a literal stranger that you’ve known for a little over three weeks, has somehow managed to alter your entire thought process—wondering just how much you were missing out on, depriving yourself of, by not experiencing new things and taking chances.

You didn’t care that Joel was nearly twice your age or had an entire family of his own, that he had lived and experienced far more life than you have, had stories upon stories that you were sure you could weasel out of him someday.

Someday, before you left. The sudden feeling of disappointment doesn’t stifle the annoying need between your thighs, fingers guiding down the seam of your cunt gently, cold to the touch as you jump slightly, thinking solely about Joel and nothing else.

It’s all your mind could manage anymore

Joel. Joel. Joel.

Joel making his coffee in the morning. Joel bent over starting the fireplace. Joel stretching out his aching muscles after a long period of sitting down on the couch too long. Joel scrunching his face up at a silly joke you make or how he often peeks over your shoulder as you’re flipping through a book, his lips hesitating to ask a question but fearful to interrupt your reading. Joel, who had no restrain in his sleep as he rutted against you, desperate for any type of friction.

Your fingers slip through the collective wetness that has accumulated nearly all fucking morning, dipping two fingers inside of you from the start, not as satisfying as the thickness of Joel’s cock but it would work for now, using your other hand to slip under your shirt, rising it halfway up your stomach as you dragged your fingertips over your breast, grazing your nipple as it pebbled under your touch, sighing at the tiniest bit of relief.

You couldn’t imagine how Joel was fairing after this morning, leaving him unfinished and clearly hoping for more, but it was a small, needed punishment for waking you up so abruptly and then playing coy about it instead of fessing up to it.

And as good as it feels to have this bit of relief, it is nothing like what you need.

Seconds turn into minutes, long deep pauses as you think about Joel, hands tracing over his skin and remembering how easily he tensed under your touch, like it had been years since he’s felt such a thing. You feel yourself ramping up, fingers trailing up to find your clit and rubbing insistently, knowing that if you focused hard enough this would be over in seconds, the hand covering your chest slipping over the arm of the couch as you whine softly, booking slipping and slapping against the floor loudly, so lost in the near blackout orgasm that you don’t even hear the front door open or his footsteps as he approaches, eyes closed tight—

You feel his touch before you hear him speak, his hand reaching out to touch your chin, guiding it toward the left, where he’s positioned over the couch, staring down at you with a deep fire behind his eyes, “Couldn’t wait, could you?”

Your eyes open slowly, vision blurry as you catch a glimpse of his smug smirk, hands instantly removing themselves from your body as you sit up suddenly, heart racing for a few reasons.

Well, so much for that.

“That—that was quick,” You respond, slightly out of breath but Joel’s fiery expression doesn’t falter, “did you—did you find anything good?”

Joel nods toward the plastic bag placed on the table in the kitchen several feet away, though his eyes never leave you, shirt still askew and allowing Joel an unobscured view of the soft curve of your ass, feet tucked under you.

“So—” You pause, his hand leaving your face briefly as they grip the top of the couch, white-knuckling the material as he looks down at you stone-faced and if that didn’t make your pussy throb with the fierceness of his gaze, it was his next few words, “movie time?”

Joel chuckles darkly, a quiet noise under his breath, beckoning with his fingers as you raise fully onto your knees despite your usual tendency to disobey and argue, gripping your face firmly under your chin, the expanse of his palm wrapping around your neck but not squeezing, a solid pressure to keep you still and maneuver you as he pleased, “Or, I can fix that little problem.”

It’s a suggestion that has your ears perking up instantly, a slow grin growing on your face.

“Whaddya say, darlin’?” He asks, “Let me finish the job?”

Considering he was the entire reason you were so pent up—about fucking time.

Caught up in the moment, you pull at him suddenly and send him scrambling over the back of the couch—but by a stroke of luck, Joel manages quite well, catching himself as he strips himself in a hurry, feeling like he was back in high school in the back of his truck with a willing and pliant participant spread over his lap. It never ceases to amaze him how easily you make him feel that surge of excitement he once felt so long ago, like you were breathing new life into him everyday.

“Fuck, are you okay?”

He’s wincing slightly, but he forces himself to stifle it, nodding his head.

You giggle softly, covering your mouth with your hand as he quickly shoves his jeans down his legs, underwear with them, cock bobbing up proudly against his shirt.

“C’mere,” He urges, hoisting your thigh over his lap, feeling the full support of his grip as he spreads you wide, shoving your shirt up your chest and quickly pulling it over your head, the soft bounce of your tits as the fabric disappears has Joel’s eyes locked in, “—god, sweetheart—”

You bite your lip to stifle your yelp as Joel latches onto your skin without hesitation, teeth digging into the flesh gently, playful, his eyes peeking up at you curiously as you glance down at him, your mouth hung open wantingly, his tongue swirling around your nipple in a fleeting motion before he’s sucking at a sensitive spot on the underside of your breast, leaving you halfway leaning back off his lap if it weren't for the secure grip you had around his neck, fingers tangling into his mused, pillowy soft locks.

And you feel his bare cock nudging against the seam of your pussy, sliding easily through the wetness, like a hot brand against your skin as he grips your hip tight and guides you against him, the slow and gentle rock of skin against skin, knowing that one wrong move would have him slipping inside of you with no protection.

But, there’s a feeling in your chest that screams for you to let it happen. The want, the need, the curiosity of pure, unobstructed connection. You knew it was naive and stupid and you’re not trying to force the blame on Joel, knowing it is fully your fault. But, the idea of Joel inside of you, thick cock splitting you open, for once your mind finds that the rewards outweigh the risks.

“Inside me,” You gasp, Joel busy trailing a long line of kisses up your sternum, wandering hands squeezing and needing at supple, pliant flesh until you feel like you might burst, “need it—fuck, come on, Joel.”

Joel pants, blinking back to reality as he peers up at you, “Yeah—yeah, go on and grab one.”

You shake your head, blindly reaching for his shaft and squeezing your hand around the girth of it, guiding him until the head of his cock catches your entrance, just resting for a moment as his brain finally catches up with what you’re asking—more so, doing.

“Woah, darlin’ that’s—” Joel grabs your wrist, “we don’ have to do all that. I’m fine fuckin’ you either way, don’t make no difference.”

You call bullshit, rolling your eyes slightly.

“Let me tell you a little secret,” You say softly, breathing hotly against his mouth as he lets you guide him back a few inches by his hair, “I’ve never had an orgasm with literally…anyone I’ve had sex with, until last night.” Joel’s expression changes immensely, forming into a deep scowl.

Well, that was a damn shame.

And damn if he wasn’t on a mission to change that over the next couple weeks.

“If I’m telling you I want you to fuck me without a condom, I want it,” You say clearly, making sure you have his attention, trying to create clear boundaries with each other, “do you?”

Joel looks slightly offended, scrunching his nose up briefly, “You really askin’ me that?”

You smile slightly, slipping his head a few inches past your entrance, body greedily squeezing him in, your breath catching at the feeling of unbridled warmth as you sank further onto him until you’re fully seated in his lap, somehow in the midst of that finding that Joel had almost fully reclined his head, eyes closed as he allowed himself a moment.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask, slightly concerned but also amused, knowing that he was probably masking some of his discomfort from you pulling him over the couch in a rush.

Joel nods quietly, “Nothin’ I can’t handle,” He assures, rubbing a gentle hand against your back as he urges you to move, “go on, I’ll catch up eventually.”

Selfishly, Joel just wants to watch you bounce on his cock, watch as you cunt greedily takes every inch he has to offer and squeeze like a vice around his shaft. You start slowly, gaining your bearings, hands curled over the back of the couch for leverage, hips moving at a comfortable speed as you rise just enough that the head of his cock almost slips before steadily moving back down, watching the minuscule changes in Joel’s expression as his grip on reality slowly snaps.

“Oh, baby,” He sighs and it has your hole fluttering around him at the endearment, butterflies flurrying in your stomach—it means nothing, you know that. Still, it’s nice to hear, “—fuck, pussy’s so fuckin’ tight, can’t—can’t fuckin’ believe this—”

You pant heavily, switching up speeds as Joel finally rises to meet your pace, hugging you closely, head buried against your chest, free hand pressed against the couch as leverage as he aids the quick snap of his hips as he fucks into you, “Can’t—believe what?” You ask through a few slow breaths.

“You thinkin’ my old ass deserves any of this,” He says, muffled against your skin, voice sounded tight and tense, clearly not willing to hold out much longer, given how riled up he still was from this morning, “I’m no—no fuckin’ good.”

Wherever it’s coming from, you weren’t having it, forcing him to look up at him as you cup his face, feeling the odd string of connection between each other as you gaze into each other’s eyes, feeling the word dissipate away as you moved against him feverishly.

“So fuckin’ good,” You mumble mindlessly, feeling his hand sneak down to work quickly against your clit, knowing he didn’t have much time himself, “so, sososo fuckin’ good, Joel.”

“Say it again,” He groans, “Say my name, baby.”

“Joel.” You whine softly, blunt nails clawing at his neck as he applies just the right amount of pressure you need to tip over the edge. “God, Joel.”

It’s just what he needs, the neediness in your voice as he grunts roughly, feeling you shake gently through your orgasm before he swiftly pulls you off, gripping himself swiftly as he comes in thick, hot spurts into his palm, trying to contain the mess, but you could care less. With your eyes locked on his fucked-out expression, so exhausted he looks on the precipice of falling asleep right then. He reaches blindly for an article of his clothing and wipes his hand off discreetly.

You fall against him gently, massaging his scalp gently as he nips at your chest briefly, causing you to giggle into his cheek from where you’re resting.

“You’re gonna make it impossible to leave,” You admit jokingly, even if there was some truth, “and ruin all other men for me.”

Joel can’t do anything but chuckle, struggling to find the will to move but settled with the idea of sitting here with you the rest of the day.

Night comes slow, after dinner and well past midnight. Joel is laid out on the couch with a blanket around his waist, arm tucked under his head as he watches the movie on the screen, sensing your lingering presence as he looks over his shoulder, catching you sneaking around.

He notices the way you perk up slightly, always seeking his attention in whatever form.

“Come lay with me,” He invites, scooting backwards to allow room for you, pulling you close when you settle, leg secured over his hip as your back faces the movie, allowing you a selfish moment to admire his face, flashing lights under the dull screen as his eyes squint to examine something you can’t be bothered to look at for yourself, too entranced by him.

You sigh softly, picking at a tiny hole on the front of his shirt with your fingernail, “Should I feel guilty that I haven’t worried about home since I got here?” You ask hesitantly, “Because I do.”

Joel looks at you briefly before he decides to pause the movie entirely, dropping the remote somewhere on the floor as he holds you waist tenderly, rubbing his thumb against a patch of skin as he maneuvers his way under your shirt.

“Don’t,” He tells you, “Can’t tell how much you’ve helped keep my mind off of things back home.”

There’s a tinge of regret in his voice, surrounded by sadness and lingering like a cloud.

“Still think about ‘er all the time,” Joel adds quietly, “Sarah.”

Oh. He looks down at you briefly, gauging your reaction. Wondering if the mention of her made you uncomfortable, if he was crossing a line by allowing himself to be vulnerable for a moment.

He trusted you, in a way. It could’ve been the lingering feeling of this all being so temporary, but he finds solace in the idea that you accept him so openly.

“You know, it’s not my place to ask,” You know that, he knows that, “and I’m not going to force it out of you, but if you want to talk about stuff, I’m open to it. I have no reason to ridicule you, Joel.”

“What do you wanna know?”

“Tell me about your daughter,” You tell him genuinely, watching his face light up briefly, “how old is she?”

“Thirteen,” He answers simply, “had her a little late in life but I don’t think I could love someone more than I love that kid.”

You respond to his happiness, smiling alongside.

“So, she likes butterflies?”

“Yeah, she’s got them hangin’ up all over her room, all over everything, really. And she started playing soccer over the summer—it’s…weird.”

You furrow your brow in confusion, questioning his choice of words.

“Just—all the moms.” He explains easily, “And I’m the only dad, they make it seem like I’m some saint for showin’ up to practices and games.”

“I’m sure you are,” You tell him, “you love her, you like being there for her.”

Joel nods quietly, scrunching his nose as he sniffles, blinking away a sudden onslaught of emotion, eyes burning with the beginnings of what he knows are tears. He looks away, forces it back for as long as he can.

“So, the custody thing?” You ask, knowing it was a subject that had a lot of complicated webs weaved around it, but you wanted to know things, wanted Joel to know that you were interested in his life and all aspects of it. “Do you get her less because of work? I mean, workin’ all those jobs has got to take up a lot of your time.”

Joe chuckles bitterly, “It’s uh—not that simple.”

“I’ve got time,” You offer teasingly, “not like I have anywhere else to be for the rest of the month.”

Joel’s hand eventually finds your neck, thumb rubbing at the tender spot behind your ear. It feels entirely too intimate, his eyes locked on yours as he contemplates how much he wants to share.

He starts small, hesitant.

“I fucked up,” He admits quietly, “Sarah was about four or five, even then custody was split because her mom and I couldn’t get along—”

He hasn’t allowed himself to talk about this since it happened, or soon thereafter.

“I didn’t realize how much I was overworkin’ myself, tryin’ to make some extra money so I could buy her all the stuff she was askin’ for. You know, simple things that little girls like. Just wanted to make sure she was taken care of. Happy.”

Joel is a good father, that much was obvious. You could see it in the way it pained him to retell the story, instantly filled with a regret he could never take back.

“I was drinkin’ a lot back then, though—never on the job, but—” Joel pauses for a minute, eyes searching out, avoiding your gaze as he admits his wrongdoing, “we scored this big job, boss opened up a bottle to celebrate at the end of our shift and I took a couple shots, just a couple—”

His chest shakes as he breathes and you press a firm hand against it, hoping that it may provide some comfort, expression stoic but receptive as he speaks.

“Her mom called right after that, told me she was droppin’ off Sarah ‘cause she had an emergency so I was gettin’ her earlier than I usually do. I felt fine, but I remember feelin’ so tired. I shouldn’t have drove home, shoulda asked Tommy to ride with me. But, I was too damn stubborn and fell asleep at the wheel with Sarah in the backseat.”

You hold your breath, watching the tears form and spill silently.

“‘Course, I caught the only cop in town that night. Found out later he’d been followin’ me for a while and eventually I swerved off and came to when he was bangin’ on my window. I never meant to—I would never hurt Sarah like that. But, I made a shitty choice and even though I felt fine, guess the cop smelt the alcohol and…the rest is kinda obvious.”

You can see him struggling, trying to recount his most heinous moment. Deep regret, sadness that crippled him to near speechlessness.

“Got charged with a few things,” He doesn’t elaborate and maybe that was for the best, “but, they deemed me unfit and her mom was ready to take sole custody. I fought for her—I don’t…I couldn’t have her taken away from me like that.”

You feel the emphatic feeling of sadness transferring to you, absorbing some of that pain as he blinks away a flurry of tears, wiping them away quickly. Your thumb rubs against his temple, soft scar tissue under your fingertip—you don’t ask, but Joel knows.

He pulls your hand away gently, placing it firm against his chest. His heartbeat is steady still, blood pumping beneath your fingertips.

“Things were bad, for a while,” Joel answers vaguely, “not that I can admit they’re great now, but I’m managin’ fine and Sarah is always happy—don’t think I’ve ever seen that girl upset, actually. Just wish I could talk to her more during times like this. Her mom doesn’t make things easy on me.”

You smile comfortingly, “She knows you love her, that’s what matters.”

Joel smiles too, though it’s forced.

“I’m always fuckin’ something up. ‘S why I like to take the time away here, not think about anything. Escape from it all, I guess.”

“I guess we’re pretty similar in that regard,” You tell him, “but all the stuff Joel, it’s in the past. There’s no use beating yourself up over it years later. You got family that loves you, I’m guessing. Sarah’s young and you’ll have so much time to love her, that’s what matters.”

“I think you have a family that cares too.” Joel adds, switching the topic smoothly. “And they gotta love you, can’t see why they wouldn’t.”

You try to ignore how vehemently he says the words, meaning them.

“Sometimes I feel bad,” You admit, “holding so much hatred in toward them.”

Joel knows the feeling, almost stifling his unbridled rage. Maybe he should consider therapy or find a proper way to release that anger, but he’d rather pretend it didn’t exist.

“Wanna see a picture of ‘er?” Joel asks curiously, glancing down at you with curious eyes.

“Of course.” You beam brightly, watching as he fished away in his back pocket for his wallet.

He pulls out a small square photo, worn from years of being stuffed away in his wallet and softened around the edges. He flips the photo in his fingers, offering up the small piece of happiness he carried with him day by day.

“She’s beautiful, Joel.” You tell him, catching the way he smiles assuredly.

“Takes after her mom a little more than me.” Joel admits.

“I dunno—she definitely has your smile.” A pair of matching grins as Joel can’t shy away from the mention, you compare them with a fleeting look, “Oh, for sure.”

Joel plucks the picture away after a moment and shoves his wallet away, returning to his previous position as he cuddled you close on the couch, no words to be shared as you settled comfortably in the silence, enjoying the moment.

“‘M glad you’re here.” Joel tells you, chin nestled against the crown of your head, your face shoved up against his chest.

“Me too.” You mumble against his shirt, arms draped over his midsection as your hand squeezes gently at his shirt, crumpling the material in your hand.

The exhaustion overwhelms you both, falling asleep on the couch like it was the easiest thing in the world. Joel’s touch never leaves and even when you wake in the early morning, light barely peeking over the clouds, he’s still there.

You rouse quietly, removing yourself so as not to wake him and stretch your limbs, shifting your clothes back to their original position and rubbing at the sore spot on your hip from where you had laid all night.

But, there’s a hand sliding up your leg a moment later and you jump at his touch, turning back to look over you shoulder.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” You grumble, pushing his hand away gently, to which Joel finds amusing, “I was trying not to wake you.”

“I’ve been up darlin’, was waiting for you.”

And you want to say that the day was exciting, full of plans and things to do, but that just wasn’t the truth. Like usual, it is spent lounging around, feeling empty time with anything—yet now, you don't have to keep your distance.

Sometime in the afternoon, after Joel returns from doing his own things, he seats himself on the middle cushion of the couch you’re sitting on, lifting your feet up in the process as he lays them over his lap, propping his own feet up on the center table in the process.

“Sarah would love this snow,” Joel comments casually, looking out the window briefly, windowsill pillowed in a layer of thick, white fluff that frame the mountains and mountains of unmelted snow outside, “she always drags me outside when it snows so we can build a snowman and when I don’t have her she’s usually forcin’ her mom to do it.”

“Do you want to do it?” You ask curiously, catching a weird expression that crosses Joel’s face.

“Pardon?” He laughs slightly, looking bewildered.

“Joel, I meant building a damn snowman,” You explain, “Not sex.”

“Oh—oh, well…I’m not worried ‘bout it.” Joel tries to hide the fact that he does miss it.

Those small moments of happiness in his life where nothing mattered. Simple stuff.

“I’ll help,” You offer, “We can build a real fancy snowman and take a picture. And you can take full credit, I swear.”

Joel smirks slightly, rubbing tenderly at your ankle, eventually finding himself nodding without realizing.

“Yeah…yeah, let’s do it.”

Joel does more of the heavy lifting, gathering the snow in big, round heaps in according order, slightly smaller as you go until the body is three tiers high, leaving you the job of rounding out the snow—and it feels so childish, something you never had the opportunity to enjoy when you were younger, but you can’t help but find it a little enjoyable. Joel smiles more now, less forced and pinched. He’s got a great one too, when he doesn’t try to stifle it.

He gathers a few rocks for buttons and eyes, some smaller twigs for limbs and other parts.

“I think we can omit the carrot and shove a stick in there,” Joel interjects, which sounds like a ridiculous statement, but given the circumstance, it’s a perfect decision, “or just use one of those rocks?”

You shrug, all said and done as you press the final touch of a rock button nose into the snowman’s face, enjoying the tiny masterpiece. Standing back, you both admired it with a soft, shared laugh.

“This is stupid, ain’t it?” Joel asks.

“I don’t think so,” You tell him honestly, “here—gimme your phone and go stand by it, I’ll take a picture so you can send it to her next time you drive into town.”

Joel hands his phone over without much hesitation and follows your orders, snapping a single picture of him smiling next to the haphazardly built snowman, smiling internally to yourself at how even despite his small smile, his eyes are showing more.

Joel grabs the phone from your hands gently after the fact, examining the picture closely.

Suddenly, stricken with a plan of deviance proportions, you take a small handful of snow in your palm and wait for him to pocket his phone, quickly slipping the cold ice down the front of his shirt and under the thickness of his coat, catching his eyes before you’re running in the opposite direction, the need for payback written all over his face, subtly squaring out his shoulders as he chased after you, grabbing a handful of snow that he slips under your puffer coat and shirt as he wraps his arms around you, the short scream doing nothing to fend him off as you try and fail to grab another handful of snow, feeling the slow trickle of more down your back, realizing that you may have forced yourself into a bad position by allowing Joel to have the upper hand.

You’re quick to wiggle away, but not at the expense of sending you both toppling into a pile of snow, soaking you both with a chilly layer of water.

“Shit—“ Joel hisses, quickly pushing himself off you as he shrugs off the snow, “truce, darlin’. Truce.”

Joel sticks out a hand in offer, helping you off the ground as you shake the snow away, clothes sticking uncomfortably to your skin.

“Yeah, truce.” You shiver, “Fuck this.”

Joel chuckles, ushering you inside the house.

You strip a few layers as Joel starts a fresh fire, down to his own underwear and plain shirt, huddling for warmth as the fire ignites and catches quickly, growing in strength. Gathering a few pillows and blankets, you toss Joel his own and settle on the floor near the fireplace with him.

“Thanks.” He mumbles quietly, throwing a few crushed up balls of paper before settling beside you, legs outstretched in front of him while you sit cross legged, blanket snug around your shoulders as you rub at your nose, cold still prickling the skin slightly.

“Here,” Joel outstretched his arm and welcomed you within the space, not even a moment of hesitation before you’re scooting to fit into the space beside him, “better?”

You nod, the slow crackle of fire filling the silence. But, it’s short lived.

“So, the other day,” Joel starts slowly, fingers scratching at the rub idly as he tilts his head your way, “you said somethin’—’bout, uh, orgasms—”

You snort softly, “Alright, where’s this going?”

Joel attempts to look coy, hiding the smile that is threatening to cross his face as he squeezes the side of your face with his large palm, “Just wonderin’ how it was—for you, you know.”

“Oh, just wonderin’, huh?” You guide his palm calmly down your neck until it hits your chest, switching to grip his wrist as you guide him to your cunt, hot and wet, his thick fingers getting the message and rubbing a slow circle over your underwear.

Joel shrugs, “Curious.”

His fingers slip inside slowly, mouth hung open as you shift your legs to spread. Normally, you’d have a response. Anything. But, it renders you speechless. His movements are purposeful, watching your face intently as the muscles in his forearm flex, curling his fingers inside you in a motion that has you keeling forward, fingertips digging into the muscle of his arm.

“Look at me,” Joel pleads, blinking your eyes furiously as he moves his fingers to your clit within the same few seconds, the pressure and furiousness of his movements driving you to near madness, “come on, darlin’.” You feel your entire body shiver, craving him immensely. Not just his fingers or his looks, but all of him, consuming you as a whole.

“Fuck me,” You utter suddenly, eyes retching open as you gasp, “—please-—please, Joel.”

Joel nods, pulling his heady touches away with some regret, but then you’re shifting onto your knees and his brain is catching up. You waste no time, shredding yourself of the final layer of clothes, feeling the hot touch of Joel’s palm at your lower back as he suggestively guides you down, face toward the floor as he grabs at your hips sharply, squeezing the flesh under his fingertips, kneading his thumbs into the contours of your skin.

You lean forward, pussy on perfect display as the slickness showcases a soft sheen, his middle finger dragging down the seam of your folds before dipping in quickly, feeling the gentle flex of your hole around his fingers as he moves with a resigned purpose, adding a second, then a third, and you’re embarrassed about the squelch it allows—just how wet Joel could make you within a matter of seconds.

He fists himself from behind you, steady and purposeful strokes as he slides his cock through your slick to aid the glide of his hand, groaning at the way his cock head nearly slips in—if he lacked the self control he would’ve slipped in then, but he liked the tease. The wait. The sounds of your quickly increasing gasps with every gentle nudge.

You try to ignore the burn in your knees from the uncomfortable floor, feeling successful as Joel slips into you with a slow snap of his hips, determined to make you feel him. That the ache would last well into the next morning. And his fingers curl around your shoulder, digging deep into the flesh to handle you right–just how he likes.

“Darlin’, if you could see yourself right now,” Joel murmurs softly, eye lingering on his cock as he pushes inside you at a steady pace, watching the way your cunt sucks him in greedily, over and over and over—”’s perfect, you’re perfect.”

And if there was any person who could make your heart physically ache, it was Joel.

You’ve never felt the intensity of feeling so strongly until this—even from the jump, stand-off in a lonesome cabin in the middle of the woods.

“Tell—tell me about it,” You gasp, attempting and failing to grab his hand to force more point of contact, luckily Joel get’s the idea, “fuck–jus’—keep talking.”

As if his cock impaling you at the rate it was, wasn’t already enough of a distraction, the soft voice in your ear as he hikes you upright, back to his chest as he has a solid grip around the expanse of your throat, gentle pressure applied to make you feel the weight of his hand.

“Yeah,” Joel says redundantly, “god—fit fuckin’ perfectly around me. Like—”

“Like I was made for you?” You tease lightly, earning another gentle squeeze as it causes you to gasp for air slightly, vision starting to blur around the edges with the quick pistoning of Joel’s hips.

“Don’t—go and get ahead of yourself,” Joel remarks, the hand not holding your neck hostage slips from your hip and over your cunt, fingers working away at what his dick couldn’t, two thick middle fingers pressed up against your clit, starting a steady circular motion until he feels the squeeze of your walls around him, “but I’m definitely gonna miss it when I can’t have it no more.”

And it could’ve taken you out of the moment, but it doesn’t.

You come apart with his touch, sweet euphoric blindness dragging you down into a near statue of unconsciousness as Joel squeezes down on your neck and bucks his hips quick, pointed and furious before he’s pulling out abruptly and nudging you forward, hands catching yourself softly as you fall.

“Jus’ like that, darlin’.” Joel coos, “Spread your legs some more, let—fuck, let me see that pussy.”

And you bend more, ass high enough to offer Joel the perfect view, cunt glistening with your slick as he runs a finger through it, your body jolting away from oversensitivity. He comes with a few short grunts, stroking himself through the high of his orgasm as he cums over you, the slow drip of it as it drags down your thighs is enough for you to warrant the idea that it was probably best to shower, aside from the fact the fire had you both a hot, sweating mess.

Joel sighs, exasperated as he falls back on his calves. You rise slowly, wobbly on your feet but Joel’s eyes follow, questioning. You reach for his hand, no words to be shared as you drag him along and into your now shared room, only getting the hint when your hand hits the shower faucet and turns it on, the spray hitting the tile with force.

“You alright?” He questions, noting how distant you looked.

But, it wasn’t for any particular reason than being fucked to a degree you’ve never experienced before—it was all new.

“Fine,” You assure with a subtle nod and smile, “And you?”

Joe leans against the nearest wall, both of you still in a state of vulnerability as his eyes drag toward the ground before back up at you, the smallest of smiles on his face.

“‘M probably gonna be feelin’ that tomorrow, if I’m being honest.” Joel jokes.

“Well—” You cock your head to the side, nodding toward the shower as you reach for his bicep, “let me make it up to you then.”

Joel doesn’t question it, able to read you like a book by now as he sees the mischievous look in your gaze as you drag him under the stream of water, his back catching the brunt of it as you position him how you want before descending to your knees, any pain now a dull ache.

“Oh, darlin’ that’s not—”

You peer up at him menacingly but sweet, hand fisted around his half-hard cock but leaving no room for argument.

“Joel, shut up and let me do this, okay?”

He shakes his head in silent disbelief, chuckling under his breath.

“I’m just sayin’, might take a while.” Joel admits, “Nothin’ wrong with you but—sweetheart, I’m not young anymore—you know what, c’mere.”

Joel grabs your wrist, pulling you off the tile floor.

“Wha—” You attempt to ask, but Joel is stifling it with a needy exchange of lips, drenching you both with the water as he brings you under the spray, only allowing a small breath as you open your mouth before he’s capturing your mouth again—and you’ve been kissed before plenty, had messy exchanges with Joel on a few occasions, but this feels different.

There’s nothing to warrant it, nothing to excuse it. But, neither of you can stop.

“We still got time,” Joel reminds you, feeling the small curve of your lips as you smile, earning a small peck to satiate the urge to lean back in and capture his mouth once more, “alright?

And you did, you knew that.

But, it would never feel like long enough now.

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