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#i can do other ghouls if people want
calxia · 8 months
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Weather really is something. I love the rain but I also hate the cold. I somewhat like the sun but also hate the heat. I used to be able to deal with the heat and now I can't. Can't even get used to cold as fuck weather when it snows. Sometimes it'll go into the negatives. At one point I had snow up till March/April.
Speaking of weather. What are thoughts on the Ghouls favorite type of weather? I'm kind of putting a little thought into it. I feel Rain loves when it pours but hates when it pouring down and freezing cold. While Mountain is more for a cloudy day with the sun peaking out.
- 🎸 Anon
I live for the cold weather. I wait for when it gets cold enough I can wear my leather jacket and hoodies everywhere without question. When we got really bad snow here earlier this year I jumped on the opportunity to walk to work in it. the crunch and coldness is just perf.
here's some lil thoughts on what weather I think the ghouls will like. I got very carried away again while writing these, but really what's new there?
Rain loves those misty summer mornings where the grass glitters with beaded dew and the air is heavy with the cloying taste of the humid day yet to come. The air is crisp but not cold, and everything is still, waiting for the warmth the steadily rising sun will bring. Rain likes summer showers. The refreshing brush of cold rain on sticky skin. The sort of rain that leaves you soaked, but revitalises you for the day. He breathes easier when it's humid, his lungs not having to work as hard as his moist gills help pick up the slack.
Dew likes the scorching sun. The sort which burns your skin at the slightest brush. That drives most to try to seek shelter in the shade, but even the shade is still dangerously warm. The heat that brings a period of drought with it and risks starting a blazing inferno from the frazzled dead grass it creates. He recharges in the dry air and basks like a lizard in the powerful rays of the sun. Dew also likes the feeling of the first rain after a period without. The warm humidity energizes him and calls forth the remnants of his water past.
Mountain likes cloudy mornings in the spring. Where the air is still chased by the bitter nip of frost but you can almost feel how everything is waking up for the season of new beginnings. When the sun is starting to rise earlier and earlier as the days lengthen. The weather is perfect for the work that a new season brings and the clouds provide cover from harsh UV rays. He rises with the sun to work his gardens as the sun plays peekaboo with the clouds.
Swiss enjoys the heat of early summer when the earth is still trying to shake off the frosts of spring. He likes a gentle breeze that carries dandelion seeds and the smells of summer with it. It is warm but still cool enough that you can do things freely. He likes staying up late when dusk is beginning to spread and night insects emerge. A chill starts to spread but it's chased away by firepits and good company. A wind stokes the bonfire, yet it is early enough in the season that the damp ground easily contains the blaze.
Cirrus is partial to a cool autumn evening, perfect for snuggling up in front of the hearth to fight off the cold. The sort of weather that is perfect for a dusk stroll through the woods all bundled up. The crisp air nipping at unprotected noses and fingers. There's nothing better than being able to snuggle up with those you love and watch the twilight drawing in.
Both Aurora and Cumulus love the snow. They almost become kits again when they wake up to a thick sheet of white across the abbey grounds. They always try to rush outside in their pyjamas only to be stopped by Cirrus, who forces them to wrap up warm. They love the crunch of snow and the way snowflakes drift down from above to cling to eyelashes and hair. They will stay outside for as long as possible before they get called in for hot chocolate and pack cuddles in front of a roaring fire. If it was up to them, they would stay out all day playing.
Phantom likes the bitter cold of an icy winter night. He’s enthralled with the way frost sparkles beneath a cloudless night. He always feels the cold down to his bones but it's easily thwarted by thick clothes and heaped blankets. He’s never seen snow before, but he’s sure that if it glitters anything like an iced-over pond and crunches like frost, he will love it.
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jilyandbambi · 6 months
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the ceasefire would still be on rivht at this moment had Hamas not broken it with the terrorist attack in Jerusalem and by repeatedly reneging on its agreement to release Israeli hostages.
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very-lost-hobbit · 6 months
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*Vibrates with a rage so potent it transports me to Washington to puch all of the uselss spineless piece of shit putin jerking off republicans throwing bitchfits about "border securty" while Ukraine NEEDS the funding they're blocking in the fucking face*
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mikecrewsteacup · 4 months
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my wife and I are rewatching midnight mass but only our favorite parts (basically the show minus Riley RIP my guy) and my god. my god this show. it's gorgeous and my brain and heart love it so much. i'm so happy it's perfect as it is and I can obsess over it as it exists and turn it over in my mind and it's just so inspiring. Did I mention that the first time I watched this show's finale I literally cried so hard i had a headache the rest of the evening
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noisytenant · 1 year
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I feel like just telling people “consume less childrens media/YA fiction/etc” is missing the point.
A narrow, sheltered perspective on the world and its politics is what causes stupid discourse, and the simplified world of entertainment media attracts people with this mindset.
Having any kind of media as the dominant lens through which you socialize and interact with the world will leave you sidelined from reality, whether your energy is devoted to complex literature or a tv show for toddlers.
Children’s media and their fans make for easy targets because the disproportionate scale of discourse to depth is more visible, but focusing on the kind of media as the main problem seems to me similarly detached from reality. The problem is the attitude. And telling someone who clings to any kind of media as a tenuous connection to others that they’ve wasted their time isn’t really going to change their mind.
So, like, do you actually have any intention of challenging this kind of attitude, or are you just trying to feel superior to someone else?
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violettaskies · 7 months
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Of Books & Beasts
Prompt: virginity
Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader
Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope
Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol
Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!
ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts
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-:-:-:-:-
The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 
Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 
With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.
“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 
“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 
“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 
“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 
But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 
“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 
The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 
“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 
“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 
“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 
-:-:-:-:-
You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 
However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.
“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 
“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 
“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 
“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 
Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 
Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 
“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 
“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 
However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 
Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 
No. 
This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 
“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 
“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 
“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 
“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.
Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 
“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 
The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 
“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 
You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 
What a dream. 
“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 
“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 
“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 
They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 
It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 
Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 
“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 
Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 
But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 
You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 
The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.
But you were so wrong. 
Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 
Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 
Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 
-:-:-:-:-
Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 
His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 
As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 
Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 
You were about to become the death of him tonight. 
Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 
“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”
Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 
If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 
“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 
“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 
“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 
“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 
Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 
Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 
“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 
“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”
The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 
“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 
“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 
“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 
Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 
“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud
“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 
“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 
“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 
You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  
“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”
“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 
“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 
Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 
“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 
“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 
“Y-yes, I would be.” 
After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 
“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.
“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 
“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 
“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 
In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 
No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 
“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 
“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  
“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 
“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 
You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 
“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 
“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  
“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 
“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 
All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 
The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 
“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 
“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 
“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.
Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 
“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 
“More, please.” 
“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 
“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 
Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 
“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 
“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.
But, you were wrong, so wrong. 
As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 
“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 
“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 
You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.
“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 
Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 
The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 
“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 
“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 
“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 
Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 
The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  
“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 
“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 
“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 
The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 
You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 
“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 
“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 
“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 
And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 
“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 
Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 
“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 
“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 
The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 
“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 
“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 
“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 
Fuck. 
Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 
The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”
“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”
“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 
You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 
“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 
With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 
“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 
“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 
“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 
Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 
You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 
“Let's use a little, Steve.” 
“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 
“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 
Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 
“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 
Just the tip — you said the words before. 
But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 
This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 
“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 
“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 
“Feels nice.”  
“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 
Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 
Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 
“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  
“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 
“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 
He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 
“Need more — need you to go faster.”
“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 
“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.
In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 
“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 
Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 
“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 
“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 
You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 
One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  
“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 
“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”
“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.
“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 
Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  
“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 
“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  
“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 
Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 
And he did. 
Good god, he did. 
“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 
“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 
He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 
For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 
You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 
“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 
“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 
“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 
“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 
Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 
“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 
Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 
“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”
You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 
“Another day?” 
“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 
“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 
If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 
-:-:-:-:-
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divine-donna · 1 month
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all you need is more radaway
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save a horse. ride a cowboy. ;)
anyways i really loved the tv show and i love the game. and ghouls are just chef's kiss. or maybe that's because i love monsters. sad that i finished it so quickly. :(
perhaps i can put what i learned in my western class to good use lol
character: cooper howard aka. the ghoul
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it's never easy surviving the wasteland. you don't know how you managed to survive for this long. perhaps because you seemed to have been blessed with incredible luck.
and building up endurance, of course.
you felt little to no side effects from the radiation of the food you were eating. which just meant you had a lot of radaway and rad-x stocked up.
to make ends meet, though, you had to start hunting. scavenging and scrapping by wasn't enough. you needed the extra caps.
thus your rivalry with another bounty hunter was born.
"well, well. aren't you far from home, sweetheart?"
you were used to comments about your outfit. a vault suit. yes, you came from one. you had been exiled after your father was revealed to be managing the experiment behind it. the child pays for the sins of the father always.
"you're not the first and you won't be the last." you pull the head off the body as clean as possible.
"now i don't know if you should do that."
"and why not?"
a bullet flies past you and burrows itself into the ground. you finally look up. a cowboy hat. the face of a ghoul. his gun pointing right at you.
but you weren't afraid.
"because he's my target." he pulls out a piece of paper. "and he's mine."
"seems unfair if i did all the work. and you just collect his head and the prize." you pull out the same piece of paper. yours is a little more worn out though. and covered in dried blood.
"that's the way of the wasteland sweetheart."
"if you believe so."
your hands were fast. two bullets lodged into his right left and when he looks up, you're gone.
of course, you learned from the best: western holotapes. you really liked them when you were growing up. claimed to want to be a lone hero.
in some ways, you were. the wasteland was just a new version of the wild west, wasn't it?
"spaghetti? like...the pasta?"
more like spaghetti western. he knew that, of course. but no one in the wasteland knew what a spaghetti western was. they were remnants of a past long gone and one only accessible by holotapes in the vaults.
"that's their name." the person says. "why? you have business with them?"
"perhaps." the ghoul was looking to return a favor.
"don't even try. they're far more formidable than you think."
"we'll see about that."
your rivalry was an exchange of bullets, more often than not. thankfully, you always stocked up on bloodbags and could make a stimpack from your heavy (but useful) travel chemistry kit. you were smart like that.
surprisingly, it became something to look forward. mostly because the ghoul preferred if he tried killing you, so he managed to get you out of a tough situation by killing the other people trying to kill you.
and you returned the favor. there was something satisfying about lodging a bullet into him again.
unfortunately, this left you two stuck on a job once. captured by raiders. you had been knocked out with a drug. and he had collapsed from...something.
"fuck." you mutter, pulling at the ropes binding you. your luck had run out for the day it seems, because your arms were tied to the ghoul's around this godforsaken pole. the metal was also uncomfortably rubbing up against your skin.
"you got a knife or anything sharp?" he looks over at you. it's rare to see him without his cowboy hat. his head was rather smooth.
you chuckle a little.
"something funny?" the ghoul asks.
"nothing. you're just...shaped like an egg."
"very funny."
"let me guess. your answer is no?"
"i don't have a knife up my sleeve, sadly. think they took it."
"shame." the ghoul shimmies something out of his own sleeve. he flicks the blade out and begins sawing at the rope. "watch your fingers."
you keep your fingers tucked in. eventually, the rope on your wrists comes undone and one arm soon after. the rest comes off and you rub your skin. "fuck these guys. always hated raiders."
"well, we both got sold out. we need to find that thing now. or else we'll be dead by sunrise." he tugs on the door of the jail cell and clicks his tongue.
"i don't have sharp objects. but i do have these." you pull out the bobby pin taped on the inside of your sleeve, alongside a mini screwdriver.
the lock wasn't very complicated, so you picked it with ease.
as you both are grabbing your equipment, you hear footsteps up above. light ones and heavier ones. and the sound of a muffled, altered, robotic voice.
the brotherhood of steel was worse than raiders, honestly.
"you go left, i go right. how does that sound?"
"i don't usually like taking orders from my rivals." he reloads his gun. "but for you? sure."
the event left the both of you soaked in the blood of your enemies. on the other hand, you guys left with plenty of loot and an idea of where your target was: dead. at the bottom of a lake.
it was a journey to get there, wherein you learned the details of each other's lives. you didn't think he was paying much attention to your sentences. after all, you came from a vault.
and yet, you saw a hint of sympathy in his eyes.
he seemed less keen on sharing details about his life, aside from his former name. cooper howard.
undeniably, as a fan of westerns, you recognized his names. from the holotapes.
"they had those?" cooper shakes his head, taking sips of water. "no way."
"yes way! it's where i learned to shoot."
"from watching my movies?"
"yes!"
"that is...a pleasant surprise." cooper leans back.
"that also makes you over 200 years old."
"that it does. something wrong with that?"
"no. the wasteland changes people." you maintain your attention to your suit, sewing a tear up. "just...you're looking for something, aren't you? everyone's always looking for something up here."
"are you looking for something?" his voice hardens and he sits up straight.
"i was. and then i found it. and i stopped." you tie the thread to seal the stitch and then tear the thread with your teeth. "i hope you find what you're looking for though."
"well, that's awfully kind of you, sweetheart."
"i have a name, you know."
"what is it?"
"(y/n)."
getting personal in the wasteland was something cooper wasn't adamant about. but the circumstances seems to call for it.
"guess we're even now."
the body of water was daunting. it was murky and dark. you pursed your lips and dumped your bag. "well. guess we have no choice."
cooper looks over at you then quickly turns around when he sees what you're doing: taking off your suit and going down to your underwear. "what are you doing?"
"i'm going to go get that head. that's how we get paid, right? easy three thousand caps. 15 hundred split evenly." you stretch.
"i think you might die."
"i'll be fine. i've done it before." Aquaperson perk.
"i can also swim, you know."
"i'll be fine cooper." you pop a rad-x pill just in case. "be back in a bit."
you dive like a swan, making minimal splash into the water. your form disappears beneath the darkness.
you're gone beneath the water for over an hour. cooper's heart was beating against his rib cage. you should be out by now. it should not be that hard. did something get you? things lurked beneath the murky waters always.
"fuck!"
he drops his equipment and begins stripping down, until he is just in his pants. he would need to dive after you. if you were dead, then so be it. it was fun while it lasted.
suddenly, you emerge. you take in the oxygen of the surface and hold the head up high. "got 'em." you swim over to the shore and walk out of the water.
there was something about how...wet you were that got him feeling hot and bothered.
"something happen down there?"
"couple of mirelurks. no big deal. which reminds me." you set the head on the ground and go back into the water. within minutes, you're pulling out the bodies of the mirelurks you had killed. "dinner."
while cutting the mirelurks open, you observe the way he walks around you. his muscles bulging a little as he cuts a mirelurk open and takes the meat. he was kind of...attractive?
"were you going to come after me?" he stops cutting hearing your question. "in the water, i mean."
"so what if i did?" cooper averts his eyes.
"that's sweet of you. i didn't know you had a soft spot for me."
"i don't."
"sure." you can tell he was lying through his teeth.
dinner was a nice, cozy meal. it was delicious. a nice surprise considering the nature of the wasteland.
cooper notices the way you're looking at him. and he looks at you the same way.
though how does this work exactly?
"do you want to..." you try to find a decent way to say this. fuck is a good term. but it felt a little vulgar in the moment.
cooper already knows what you're asking. "absolutely. if you can handle it." he smirks.
it's so cute when he smirks.
you glance over at your bag, looking at your stash of radaway. you had plenty. plus your stash of rad-x too.
"i absolutely can."
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undiscovered-horizon · 7 months
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Die Happy - Sanji x Reader
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SUMMARY: Sanji is disillusioned about your lack of interest in him. Someone like you could pick and choose among princes, kings and emperors. What's a measly cook to you? Nevertheless, his lovesick heart continuously rejoices when you choose him to waste time with.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.3k
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Part 2 -> "Maelstrom"
Sanji has never believed in ghouls, witches, faeries and the like. However, when he met you his belief began to shatter:
Like a dark sorceress covering the whole world with a curse, you lured all the influential, important men like fire does moths. At first, Sanji fooled himself that all those generals, merchants and noblemen only wanted something pretty to hang onto their shoulders but reality destroyed his comforting illusion when the said men offered riches most people couldn’t even fathom. If you asked them for an armada to sail to the Grand Line, they’d only ask what type of wood you’d prefer. Despite something akin to world domination lying at your fingertips, you always laughed those offers off, telling your powerful suitors that you would think about their words and get back to them.
Sanji once asked whether you’re truly considering marrying one of the generals or kings. Some more naive part of him hoped you’d say no. Alas, the truth, once again, was his adversary:
“Obviously!” you giggled at his silly question. “But I won’t marry the first one that offers me wealth and whatnot. First, I’d like to see all of my options and the world…” your voice trailed away as you vaguely pointed around the two of you. “Well, it’s a big place. Many more kingdoms to visit.”
But to his own demise, the cook was a fool unlike any other. He had no chance at winning your heart, no matter how much he’d try. Still, his untamable desire egged him on, whispering sweet songs of your grace. Even if he could taste your lips only in his imagination, he could do his best for you to have a reason to keep him around like a dog that begs for scraps at his master’s table.
Sanji knows he’s only hurting himself, only furthering his desperation when he makes you smile or earns a speck of your affection. Every dawn, he promises to free himself from your sorcery but when dusk comes and his left with the Moon, his only confidant, he realizes that he could never possess enough power to cut himself free from you. You’ve pierced his heart right through and if he pulls your knife out of his chest, he’s bound to bleed out and die. It’s better if he lets you have complete control over his mind and soul - it’s the only way he will make it out alive.
He’s left cold and lonely on that night. Soft, silver moonlight washes over him through the small porthole in the wall of his room. The sea is almost black at this hour of the night but it becomes a mystical sapphire when the Moon’s glow washes over the lazy waves making them glisten like pure diamonds.
Diamonds… maybe if he had diamonds, you’d see him as a man and not just a shipmate.
Quiet knocking on his door wakes Sanji up from his thoughts. Before he has a chance to get up and open the door or tell the guest to come in, the mysterious visitor enters out of their own volition.
Your tired face makes Sanji think about painting in museums - the ones all connoisseurs consider “classics” and “timeless”. The silk shirt you’re wearing looks not only awfully expensive but, which is much worse, to be a men’s size. Its hem ends right underneath your buttcheeks, threatening to expose your body should you lift your hands. In the darkness of his cabin, you appear as nothing beyond a phantom, a hallucination born out of desperation. And just like a ghost, you’ve come to haunt and torment him in the sweetest of ways; in a way only you can.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asks in a raspy voice. Sanji is doing a great job at appearing unaffected by your rather scantily clad form.
Carefully, you close the door behind you and walk towards him. Your skin glows when you step into the rays of soft moonlight pouring in through the porthole. Dishevelled hair, half-closed eyes and a slightly puffy face - Sanji has imagined you this way countless times but never actually seen. He can feel his body burning up, telling him to seize the opportunity, to wash you in the most charming and suave words he can think of.
“Nami kicks while sleeping,” you say quietly. “I swear to god my whole side is bruised at this point. Can I sleep with you?”
Sanji has to remind himself to breathe and to do so calmly. He’s cool, completely in control of himself. His mouth feels unbearably dry.
“‘Course you can,” he answers casually. With a swift move of his arm, he lifts the duvet. “Come on in.”
The pure bliss that suddenly appears on your face forces Sanji to take in a sharp, ragged breath. It’s an expression he also imagined one too many times when his desperation poisons his mind - not that he’s willing to admit it even to himself. He knows it’s wrong to even entertain a scenario in which you would grace him with such an enraptured face. Still, his will is not as strong as he often makes it out to be.
“Sanji, you are my salvation,” you tell him while getting under the covers with him.
“I know, love.”
It’s both strange and natural, the way your body fits his. As though the two of you have done it so much the memory of your muscles twists and turns your limbs to rest in the most comfortable and intimate way. The odd familiarity makes Sanji think that maybe in another lifetime this is how he always sleeps. He wishes he could find himself in that reality even for a second. Alas, it’s too far out of his reach.
“Damn, you’re really comfortable,” you mumble against his chest. Your hot breath makes him shiver. “And warm. I don’t think I’ll be going back to my bed.” A small grin of cosiness appears on your face - one that Sanji will never forget.
His broad chest and strong arm normally go unnoticed by you but now they’re like a fortress. And just like high stone walls are an unspoken promise of security and happiness, his firm hold on your body is a silent oath of a good night's sleep.
“Stay as long as you want,” he whispers back to you. 
Maybe if you weren’t so exhausted, you’d notice that his words aren’t a statement but a plea. They’re the last thing you remember before drifting off to a restful slumber.
Your breathing slows down and gains a steady, shallow rhythm. Keeping you close to his chest, Sanji allows his hands to gently brush against your arm and back. His movements are feathery, almost fearful. He wouldn’t want you to wake up and change your mind about spending the night beside him - he can indulge in his heart’s desire but he must do so carefully.
“If you only gave me a chance,” he whispers into the night.
Knowing you’re asleep and bound to remain ignorant of his affections, Sanji kisses the top of your head. His lips linger against your hair while he takes in the scent that haunts him day and night. Unknowingly, his grip around your body tightens at that moment as though he has suddenly grown most terrified of having you disappear. Too many nights he’s dreamed of this exact scenario only to wake up to a cold, empty bed.
When the dawn arrives and you leave his arms, this little moment of affection won't mean anything to you. It means nothing now. Sanji knows this very well. He doesn't try to lie to himself that maybe you'll wake up a changed person and finally see him as more than a friendly comrade. Although tonight means nothing to you, it holds an unspeakable weight to Sanji, who will forever gloat about the fact that when you needed help, it was him you turned to. It was his arms that guarded your sleep for a few hours.
Fighting off sleep until he collapses, Sanji revels in the feeling of you against his body and pretends, even if for one night, that you’re his the same way he will always be yours. Watching you sleep cuddled into him, he swears he could die happy now.
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spaceclefairy · 24 days
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Keep that Coffee Hot
You, a bounty agent. The Ghoul, a bounty hunter. The Ghoul needs to cash in on his most recent job and ends up with more than the contract promised.
Act II - All Over Again
Act III - Lonely Hours
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When the Ghoul walks through the front door of your office, you know he's here for one of two things: a contract or a cashout. This no-name wasteland town is little more than a hub for the bounty agencies, so you get rough characters milling in and out of town all the time, but no one can clear a street quite like this Ghoul. You always know when he's back in town - the few people milling about scatter, and even the other bounty hunters coming through make themselves scarce. Even in the middle of a wasteland, he somehow makes the place even more desolate with his just presence alone. 
You don't mind the Ghoul, personally. Dealing with him is part of your job, after all - you're a bounty agent, he's a bounty hunter. You manage the contracts, he hunts the target, you give the payout when he's done. Easy-peasy. He's intimidating, sure, and dangerous, but he's always been all business with you, and he’s damn good for business. 
And if he’s a little flirty sometimes, well, you don’t mind.
This time when the Ghoul struts through your door, he’s dusty from the wasteland outside and carrying a grimy, drippy leather bag in hand. The leather bag squelches faintly as whatever's inside shifts around, dripping brownish liquid on the scrubbed wooden floor. He greets you in his usual way, with a howdy and a sugary darlin’, and plonks the bag down on your desk, goo oozing out from the seams. 
“Howdy, Coop,” you greet, eying the bag with glee. As you drag it over to you, it leaves a snail-trail of ick on the wood, staining it further. You peer into the bag and confirm it's the correct bounty in your contract.
“One mutant heart, as requested,” the Ghoul says. He watches you with a faint amused smile. “Never brought the bounty straight to the agent before.”
You dump the faintly-pulsing mutant heart out on the desk. It’s overly large - much larger than a normal human’s - and gray-brown, and it spurts little gushes of blood when you poke it, so you know it’s still fresh. You’re surprised it’s still working, but that’s why you paid for the Ghoul: he gets things done quickly. 
“That's because I'm the client this time.”
“Aw, you asked for me?” the Ghoul teases, only a little derisively, grinning at you. “That’s sweet.”
You roll your eyes. “I didn't ask for you - I gave the contract straight to you.”
“Straight to little ol’ me, huh?” he grins, resting his elbows on top of your desk.
Anyone else would have been shot for getting this close to you and your contract book, but you’ve always had a little bit of a soft spot for this Ghoul. It might be the flirting swaying your judgment. It might be that he’s actually fairly polite when he comes in - for a bounty hunter anyway. Regardless, you can’t deny you let him get away with more than you let the others who come in for payout.
“That’s what I said, Cooper,” you say as you duck down under your desk to retrieve a sack of caps from the safe and a case stocked with chems and rad-away. “You’re expensive, but you’re worth it. And I needed that done quickly.”
The Ghoul gestures down at the faintly thumping heart. “What’d you want with that guy anyway?”
“Ex-boyfriend.”
“Explains why you wanted his heart in a bag,” the Ghoul comments. He sounds vaguely impressed. “Your ex-boyfriend was a mutant with two heads.”
“Four heads if you count the two below the belt,” you reply. You hand the Ghoul the bag of caps first and the case full of chems second. “Here's your payout and a bonus for quick work.”
The Ghoul opens the case slightly and snaps it shut, apparently pleased by the way his non-existent eyebrows raise. He shoves the bag of caps and case into his shoulder bag and slings it back over his shoulder. “Much appreciated. You got anything else for me to do?”
“Plenty. Let me check the contract log.”
You reach for your book to check, but he stops you by dragging the book over to him. Truly, anyone else would have been shot. Not him. He flips open a page and runs a gloved finger down the crease in the spine, pretending to read whatever’s on the page.
The Ghoul glances up at you. “Are you in the contract log?”
You meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. “Are you telling me you want to do me, Cooper?”
“Sure am, darlin’.”
You lean back in your chair, eyeing the Ghoul where he stands. You’ve always liked his eyes. It’s the only part of him left that looks like there’s still humanity to him.
The Ghoul steps back. “But, if a ghoul’s not really your thing…”
“Didn’t say that.”
“Then what do you say?”
You pause, pretending to think, but you don’t really have to think about it. “Sure, why not?”
“You got a backroom or somethin’ or we just movin’ your book out of the way?”
You nod towards the door behind you, not that you’d be opposed to just fucking him here in the middle of your office. “Yeah, I got a backroom.”
Said backroom constitutes little more than a spare desk and chair with a window, but that’s really all you’ll need. There are no curtains for the window, so whoever walks by is going to get an eyeful of what’s going on if they peek in at the wrong time. You don’t particularly care, and the Ghoul surely doesn’t.
The hat and duster stay put as the Ghoul backs you up against the desk. He’s only a bit taller than you, but his presence takes up the remainder of the tiny, boiling hot room. The hollow, pitted flesh of his face appears raw and red, but his eyes are pretty and alert. His lips are dry and smooth against yours, raw like the rest of his skin. You don’t mind - there’s no room to be picky out in this wasteland town. 
You’re not sure how he’s not miserable in the heat of the tiny room, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. In any case, you drag him closer by his belt, fisting your hand in his duster.
The Ghoul kisses you again, then strips off one of his leather gloves with his teeth and tosses it on the desk behind you. “Guess a ghoul is a step up from a mutant, at least?”
You yank his belt open and shimmy his pants down over his hips - he doesn’t let you get them down any farther. “I like ghouls.”
“Well, then, you’re a fuckin’ weirdo, ain’t ya?”
You slide down the side of the desk and hit your knees, your back pressed against the creaking wood. “Works out well for you, doesn’t it, Coop?”
His still-gloved hand wraps around the back of your neck, the leather sticking to your skin in the heat. “Sure does, darlin’.”
You take his exposed cock in hand and lick him root to tip, grinning at the hiss he gives you. His hand tightens around the back of your neck, catching in your hair. He looms over you, his unoccupied hand planted on the desk, blacking out the sides of your vision with his duster. You slide your hand down around the base of his cock and inch your lips down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks out, and he groans, low and slow, hips twitching like he's fighting the urge to just bury himself in your throat. You look up at him, wrapping your tongue around the tip of his cock, and his eyes are dark deep in the hollows of his eye sockets. 
He doesn't tolerate your teasing long. No, he tangles his hand in your hair and presses himself deep down your throat until your nose is flush with his skin. You gag around him, and he grins, pulling out and thrusting back in so you'll gag on him again.
“That's it,” the Ghoul says, teetering right on the edge of breathlessness, “you take it so well.”
You punctuate his words by scraping your teeth down his shaft, which he seems to like by the way he slams himself down your throat. Your eyes water, and you can feel the tears rolling down your face as surely as you can feel sweat snaking through your hair.
“Look so good on your knees for me,” he says, threading his fingers through your hair. He catches your chin with his ungloved hand, tilting your face up with his cock still in your mouth. His thumb swipes through the tears staining your face. “Pretty as a picture.”
The backroom is only getting hotter the longer you're stuck on your knees, clothed and trapped underneath the Ghoul’s duster with him. You're sure you're soaking through your clothes by now. Your hand snakes down to undo your top and pants so you can get some relief from the heat. It doesn’t help much, but it’s enough to keep your head from swimming.
The Ghoul takes that as an indication you’re itching to take your clothes off (you are). He hauls you to your feet, picks you up, and deposits you on top of the desk, looming over you with a grin. You let him strip the rest of your shirt off and help him get your pants off of one leg. You squeeze his hips between your thighs and hook your foot around his back, pulling him flush against you. 
“Take off the duster, Coop,” you say, moving to tug it down his shoulder. “It’s too hot in here for that.”
He takes the hand clutching his duster and pins it down to the desk. “I think you just want me to get naked.”
You smirk. “That, too.”
He strips off the other glove with his teeth and grips your hip. “Maybe next time, doll.”
“Aw, you wanna fuck me again - oh, fuck-”
The Ghoul doesn’t let you finish teasing him, instead thrusting into you with a rough stroke. The words get caught in your mouth, and he loves that. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Dick,” you say, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him into a breathless kiss. “Just come here.”
The Ghoul yanks you closer by the hip and wastes no time rutting into you. He can’t decide where to put his hands and runs them up your hips, your sides, grabs at your tits, before finally settling one hand around the back of your neck (seems to be his favorite place to grab you) and the other hand down in your lap so he can press his thumb to your clit. You clench around him, and that just makes him thrust into you harder, rubbing tight circles into your clit.
You’re not gonna last long - not like this. It’s hot, and he feels so good, thick and heavy in your cunt, and the way he groans in your ear and licks at your neck makes you whine.
You can tell the Ghoul is getting close to from the way his hips start to stutter, pressing deeper into you, pace quickening. He yanks your head back by your hair and latches onto your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin.
He presses his lips to your ear, “Where do you want it, doll?”
“Inside,” you reply, tightening your legs around him. “Less cleanup. And I’ve got extra radaway.”
The Ghoul takes that to heart, pounding into you until you cum with a sharp whine. It doesn’t take him long to finish after you, spilling himself deep inside you. He pulls out, cock soaked and softening slowly, but he’s not done with you. He stuffs his fingers into your cunt to keep you full, pumping in and out, and keeps pressing down on your clit with his thumb. It’s teetering violently on the edge of too much, overstimulating you, but you cum again anyway, this time harder and louder from the aftershocks ripping through you.
You drop bonelessly to the desk when he pulls his fingers out, and you watch him idly through your comedown as he licks his own fingers clean.
After a beat, you clamber up onto your elbows. “You still want another contract?”
The Ghoul adjusts himself and zips up his pants, chuckling lowly. “I just fucked you stupid and you’re talking about work.”
You grab your shirt and pull it down over your head, climb down off the desk, and set to work pulling up your pants. “Gets boring around here - gotta keep you coming back somehow.”
He snorts. “Oh, babydoll, you’ll be begging to get rid of me if you keep that up.”
“Try me.”
“I could use another contract,” he says. The slow grin that spread across his face would give anyone else chills. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your little book out there.”
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beskarandblasters · 15 days
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Illicit Affairs
Part One of Time, Wondrous Time
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader
Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist | AO3
Series summary: You’re California Crest Studios’ newest production assistant, getting the opportunity to work on the hit movie, The Man From Deadhorse. But when you meet the movie’s lead, Cooper Howard, you fall head-first into a secret affair. Enter a war, a cryogenic freezer, and a two-hundred-year time jump. And yet despite all that, you just might run into him again.
Chapter summary: The fateful night where it all starts with Cooper Howard.
Word count: 3.6k
Warnings: unspecified age gap, infidelity, reader is able-bodied and wears a skirt, workplace romance, secret mutual pining, fingering, one pussy slap, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, pet names (sweetheart), no use of y/n
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A new beginning. A foot in the door in the industry you’ve been dying to get into– Hollywood. You’re California Crest Studios' newest production assistant and you get to work on the upcoming movie, The Man From Deadhorse. Although you’re not typically a fan of Westerns, you’re grateful for any experience you can get. 
You’re hiding in the bathroom, killing time until production starts after getting to the studio rather early; LA traffic is unpredictable and your anxiety got the best of you this morning. You make sure your makeup is perfect and smooth down your skirt before walking to the soundstage. California Crest Studios is huge. It’s going to take forever to get used to not only the layout but also the hustle and bustle of a living, breathing set. 
The soundstage is overwhelming to put it plainly. Everyone’s talking in pockets of well-established groups and you feel like an outsider looking in, trying desperately to look like you belong here. You search the room for a familiar face but there are so many people around it’s overwhelming. You met the director, Emil, at your interview but other than him, everyone here is a stranger. 
Are you supposed to interrupt a conversation and ask what you’re supposed to do? Are you supposed to wait until you’re addressed? Are you supposed to–
“First day on set?” 
You look to your left and find a man, stunning you with his bright smile. One look at his attire tells you he’s in costume, donning a blue shirt with gold fringe. He must be an extra or something. Whoever he is, you can’t deny that he’s devilishly handsome, could even be considered leading man type of handsome. 
“That obvious, huh?”
He chuckles, placing his hands on his hips. “You’ll get the hang of it. Are you one of Emil’s new assistants?”
“I am,” you sigh, “I’m not sure where he is, though.”
“I’ll go find him for you,” he smiles, walking away before you can protest. Fuck, you’re not trying to bring any unnecessary attention to yourself. Not on your first day.
The man disappears within the pocket of people and eventually returns with Emil. He greets you with a smile and says, “Welcome to your first day on set! I see you’ve met Cooper, our leading man.”
He continues to talk but it turns into white noise. Your mind is too focused on the words: leading man. 
You vaguely hear Emil talk about what his expectations of you are, but he finishes with “For now you can just go to the studio’s cafe and get us coffee.”
Sigh. Comes with the territory you suppose. 
He goes to grab you a pen and paper, leaving you alone with Cooper. You awkwardly shift your weight between your feet, wanting desperately to make conversation with him but fearing that you’ll just annoy him. 
“Don’t be so nervous,” he says. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”
“Thanks,” you smile. 
“I never caught your name.”
You introduce yourself and he does the same, adding, “But I suppose Emil already did that for me.” 
He chuckles and extends his hand out, you shake his hand and determine he has a nice firm handshake. The kind where you can just tell he’s a confident man. 
Emil returns with a pad and a pen and immediately starts shooting off coffee orders for him and some of the other people on set. 
“By the end of this week, you won’t need to jot these down. You’ll have them all memorized.”
“Is that a challenge?” you ask playfully. 
He laughs and says, “Sounds like you’ll fit in here,” before walking back into the set. 
You turn towards Cooper and ask, “And what about you, Mr. Howard?” ready to take down his order. 
“Please, Miss, call me Cooper. I’ll just have a black coffee.”
“You got it, Cooper,” you smile before familiarizing yourself with the set and crew, taking down everyone’s coffee orders before heading to the studio cafe. 
You walk back to the soundstage with a large paper bag in hand, walking extra carefully to ensure the copious cups of coffee don’t spill. It’s already been an eventful morning but your mind keeps circling back to Cooper Howard. The first person you met on set, the first person to show you an act of kindness. You’re practically swooning over him. 
A small part of you wants to believe that he was flirting with you. But you quickly push that out of your mind. He’s an actor. He’s naturally charismatic. And besides, he wouldn’t want anything to do with a production assistant for fuck’s sake. 
You pass out everyone’s coffee back at the soundstage, surprised by just how nice most of the crew are. Of course, some people couldn’t be bothered to give you the time of day. To them, you’re someone who’s at the bottom of the barrel, someone they don’t have to treat with respect. 
As for Cooper… God, he knows how to make you feel special, graciously accepting his coffee and thanking you up and down. But quickly enough it’s time to shoot and you’re tasked with making sure no one accidentally walks into the shot. It seems easy enough. For the most part, you just watch Cooper act and find yourself captivated by him. You’re not typically into Westerns but he has such a commanding aura about him that’s impossible to ignore. 
After a few hours, the crew breaks for lunch. You learn lunch is catered most days which is nice. But now you’re in the first-day predicament where you must decide if you’re going to eat alone or encroach on an already established group. 
You sit on the concrete with your legs straight out in front of you, eating the lunch you packed. All around you groups of people socialize and chatter. You can only hope that one day you’ll have your own group like this on set. As you’re about to take a bite of your sandwich, a voice above you asks, “Need a lunch buddy?”
You can tell just by his voice that it’s Cooper. But you can’t help but wonder… Why does he want to have lunch with you? 
Doesn’t he have friends? Or even… a girlfriend? A wife? 
“Sure,” you smile, scooching over so he can sit next to you. 
“How’s your first day going so far?” 
“Not bad. I’m sure I’ll get the flow of everything soon.”
“You’ll be a natural in no time. I’m sure of it.” 
“Thanks,” you respond, starting to soften up. “What about you? How long have you been an actor?” 
“Quite a while now. But I wasn’t always an actor. I was in the Marines before.” 
You thank him for your service and it falls silent between you two. You assume this is where the conversation ends but to your surprise, he says, “Enough about me. Tell me about yourself.” 
You share more details of your background, telling him things that range from where you went to college, what your family’s like, and where you grew up. He listens with such care and respect, occasionally nodding along. You didn’t expect to make any friends on your first day, let alone with the leading man. And yet here he is, listening to your stories as if you’re the most interesting person in the world. 
Except it’s ripped away from you too soon. 
Just as the conversation hits a lull again, someone catches his attention. He gets up and walks away, to a beautiful woman standing by the food table. Your heart sinks. You knew it was too good to be true. 
Hang on. She could be a studio executive. She could be a coworker, a fellow actress even. 
But the way he kisses and pulls her close tells you otherwise. You watch them interact, hopefully in a way that’s not painfully obvious as you finish your lunch. He caresses her face, listening to her talk in a way that reminds you of how he listened to you. You should’ve known better. He’s just naturally charismatic. He’s an actor for crying out loud. It was staring you right in the face. 
They kiss goodbye and part ways. You look away and pretend to pack up your lunch. He stands before you and says, “Sorry, that was my wife. I should’ve introduced you two. That was rude of me.”
“No worries,” you smile.
He offers you his hand and helps you up, smiling at you again as he says, “Let’s get back to work, shall we?”
You nod and notice he’s still holding your hand. He squeezes it before he lets go, making your stomach do a flip. God, he gives you whiplash. 
-
The workday wraps up rather uneventfully. And you’re left feeling exhausted, wondering how long it’ll take your body to get used to this new schedule. 
Before you leave for the day Cooper places a hand on your shoulder; he’s out of costume, wearing a white t-shirt that’s a little too tight around his biceps, with his jacket slung over his shoulder.
He looks you in the eye, telling you, “Good job today. Glad to have you on board.” He smiles at you again and tells you good night before walking to his car and driving off. 
You sit in your car and mentally talk yourself down, reminding yourself that he probably just does this with all the new hires, that he’s just a nice guy. But most importantly, he’s married. He’s off-limits. And before lunches together become a regular thing, you’re going to stop it while you can. 
You’re going to try your hardest to not fall for Cooper Howard. 
-
It’s the end of your first workweek and lunches alone have already proved to be a failure. Every time you tried to sneak away to your car or the studio cafe, Cooper would catch you and ask, “Mind if I join you?”
How could you ever try to say no to him? How could you ever deny yourself alone time with him? Your gut would swirl with guilt. But you never understood why. The act of getting lunch together is inherently innocent. You know he views it that way. But why can’t you? Until Friday night when you finally place your finger on why… 
It’s because the more he opens up, the more you learn about him, you can’t help but fall for him harder. He told you about his childhood, his time in the Marines, how he was honorably discharged, and most importantly, his daughter. 
If he wasn’t already off-limits before, he most certainly is now. 
-
You spend your weekend thinking about him whenever your mind is idle. You’re treading into dangerous waters now. This is more than a silly workplace crush. This is full-on infatuation now. When you’re alone in bed, your hand slips down your pants, teasing your entrance as you close your eyes, picturing that Cooper’s above you, playing with your body. The fantasies are dangerous, feeling entirely too real. Even though you don’t know what it’s like to be pleasured by him, your imagination runs wild. You moan his name, thankful that you live alone for once. But once the self-induced orgasm subsides you’re left with guilt. And you’re conflicted about that guilt. You’re picturing these things that have never happened, that will never happen. What’s the harm in that? And yet, your kind keeps circling back to the unfortunate reality; he’s married. The guilt doesn’t seem to go away. 
Sunday night rolls around and as you go to bed, you remind yourself that you need to be better about distancing yourself. Hopefully, you’ll listen for once. 
-
No lunch together on Monday.
The same goes for Tuesday. 
You managed to get to your car in time on Wednesday. 
The week is just about halfway over and you’d consider it a success. 
But as you walk to your car on this warm night, he catches you off guard. 
“Hey.”
“Hi,” you respond, startled a bit.
“I don’t mean to bother you but I can’t help but wonder… Did I do something wrong?”
You glance at your surroundings, trying to gauge who’s near before you speak. He picks up on your nervousness and says, “We can talk somewhere private if that’s easier.”
“Sure,” you choke out, feeling the adrenaline already start to course through your body.
You awkwardly walk side by side to his trailer, both of you stiff as a board. Thankfully, most if not everyone has gone home for the night. But you can’t help but wonder if there’s someone around catching a glimpse at the star Cooper Howard, inviting a young production assistant to his trailer. 
It isn’t until you’re behind closed doors do you actually relax, but not by much. He sits you down on the sofa in his trailer, telling you to take your time as you awkwardly twiddle your thumbs. 
“You didn’t… do anything to upset me.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” he sighs. “But it doesn’t explain why you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”
“I…” you trail off. “It was to get my feelings to go away.”
God, you can’t believe you just said that. 
“...Feelings?”
You put your head in your hands and feel your cheeks heat up out of embarrassment. That was a terrible idea. Your job that’s barely two weeks old flashes before your eyes. You picture him telling his wife, laughing about the silly girl who thought she could take her man. 
He places a hand on your back, rubbing it softly and catching you off guard. 
“Someone’s got a little crush, huh?”
“I know. I know. It’s embarrassing,” you sigh, trying your hardest not to cry. 
“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. Can I tell you a secret?”
You barely heard what he said after sweetheart. Your ears are ringing with white noise but you can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet. He leans in close, whispering in your ear, “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a crush, too.”
“Oh yeah?” you scoff. “And who might that be?”
“I’ll give you a hint. She’s sittin’ in my trailer right now.”
You look at him with a bewildered expression on your face and say, “You’re joking.”
His face is impossibly close to yours. 
“Cross my heart and hope to die, sweetheart.”
“But-”
You’re cut off with a kiss, warm and inviting. It tastes like the cinnamon gum you noticed that he chews after each meal. You’re startled at first before you melt into the kiss. His hands envelop your face, keeping you close. But it’s not close enough. You want more. You need more. 
You move into his lap, straddling him and being sure to never break the kiss. His hands move from your face to your waist, holding onto you for dear life. You roll your hips into him and feel a bulge grow in his pants. You can’t believe your mind. You weren’t imagining it. There was something there all along. 
It doesn’t take long for his hands to migrate to your skirt, lifting it before he squeezes your ass, moaning into the kiss before pulling away and cursing under his breath. 
“Underwear off. Now,” he commands. 
You happily oblige, pulling yourself off him to remove your underwear before you straddle him again. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them before playing with your entrance. You lean forward to kiss him again but he stops you, grabbing your chin with his other hand.
“Not so fast. Tell me, when did this crush start?”
“The day we met,” you say in between labored breaths as he teases you. 
“Oh yeah? What was going through that pretty little head of yours?”
“Well, at first I thought you were an extra,” you smirk. 
“You did not,” he says.
“Oh yes, I did.”
“Guess I went from some extra to the man you can’t seem to forget about real quick, huh?” he says.
But before you can answer he slaps your pussy, eliciting a sharp gasp from you.
“Stop teasing me already,” you plead.
“Are you whining?”
“Fuck… Yes.”
“Naughty girl.”
He finally gives in, plunging one finger inside of your already dripping cunt. It doesn’t go unnoticed.
“So wet for me already,” he teases, curling his finger against your walls. 
You place your hands on his shoulders as you roll your hips into him. He watches the physical evidence of your pleasure– your slack jaw, your wide eyes, your chest rising and falling, your cute gasps and moans. All thanks to him. 
He adds a second finger and tells you, “That’s right. Fuck yourself on my fingers.”
You rock your hips back and forth, feeling his fingers push against your g-spot. Your pleasure comes to a head, the floodgates threaten to burst. He can sense it, too, the way your walls tense up around his fingers. 
“Gonna cum?”
“Mhm,” you choke out.
“Let me feel it,” he commands. 
With one last movement of your hips, you cum around his fingers. Your moans fill his trailer but you do your best to bite them back, unsure of who’s lurking outside. Your wetness seeps out of you and runs down his hand, coating your inner thighs in the process. His pupils are wide, looking at you with all of the lust in the world. 
When you’re done coming down from your high, he coaxes you down on your back, thighs spread wide apart. He can’t get his cock out of his pants fast enough, hovering over you as he spreads your wetness on it with a few strokes.
“Such a good girl for me,” he praises, leaning down and pressing kisses along your jawline. All you can do is moan in response, aching for his cock to be inside you already. He slowly thrusts himself inside you and you grip onto his shirt for purchase. A deep moan gets caught in your throat, coming out as a choked-up sob as he draws his hips back and slams into you. He trails kisses from your jawline to your earlobe and down your neck while he repeatedly slams in and out of you. 
“Takin’ my cock like such an angel,” he mutters, nipping at your skin. 
Your second orgasm of the night is imminent, teetering on the edge as his cock hits the most perfect angles inside you. He props himself up on his hand, placing them by either side of your hand. He wants to watch your face as you cum on his cock. And when you do it nearly pulls his own orgasm from him, feeling your warmth clench and release his cock. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes due to the intense high you’re feeling. He watches as the pretty little moans slip past your lips. 
He pulls out and rests on the back of his heels, letting his cum coat your stomach. He cums with a deep groan, sweat glistening on his forehead. The only sound in the trailer is your labored breaths, both of you coming down from your respective highs. He leans forward and grabs a box of tissues on the side table and cleans up the mess he just made before putting his cock away. 
You reach for your underwear and stand up with shaky legs, looking at him as if you’re unsure if you should stay or go because the truth is, you don’t know what to do. At all.
“Should I…?”
He pats on the couch and says, “You don’t have to go just yet.”
You smooth down your skirt and notice a cum stain he left and suddenly feel sick to your stomach. You gingerly sit beside him, keeping your posture tight and controlled as he looks at you. He notices it right away. 
“Are you okay?”
“I’m… fine. Just intimidated I guess?”
“You can’t possibly be intimidated by me after that,” he chuckles. But then he adds, “Here, let me try to calm you down. Do you want to know what I thought of you when I first saw you?”
You turn towards him and say, “Sure.”
“I thought you were absolutely beautiful. Still do.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm. But I also thought you seemed nervous.”
“I was.”
“But then I thought… What is she doing paying attention to me?”
“I could say the same for you,” you smile.
He leans in closer and kisses you again, hands enveloping your face once more. His breath is warm and his skin is slick with sweat. But you also realize… he smells like you and you wonder how he’s going to explain that to his wife. 
He pulls away and glances at the clock on the wall. 
“We should probably go. Gotta be here early tomorrow.”
“Right,” you say, standing up. “Should we go separately?”
“No need. There’s no one here this late.”
“You do this often?” you joke.
“No. Never,” he says nervously. 
He opens the door and starts leading you back to the parking lot. He was right. The studio’s dead at this hour. The tension hangs heavy in the air and an awkward silence falls between you two. 
“You know… I’m not going to tell anyone,” you say, not looking at him.
“Thank you,” he says in a small voice. 
Once you’re back at your car, you can’t help but ask him, “So… What are you going to tell her?”
“I’ll just tell her a shoot ran late. It happens here and there.”
“Okay,” you nod, starting to get in your car. You secretly hope he’ll kiss you good night but in your heart, you know he won’t. 
And you were right. He doesn’t. 
“Good night,” he whispers.
“Good night,” you whisper back before he walks back to his car. 
While you’re left alone, reeling from what just happened. A strange feeling swirls around inside you. But you’re not quite sure if it’s a sense of achievement or regret. 
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Part two
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Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics
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Tag list: @widowmakerow @bisasterbisexual @wowitsem @vegetarianvamp @celestial-vomit
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bisexualiteaa · 28 days
Note
fem reader x ghoul where he’s talking about how small she is?
Fun Size
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Cooper Howard x Smaller Fem Reader (SMUT!!)
CW: NSFW MDNI!! Size kink, p in v, unprotected sex, p0rn w/o plot, mentions of breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, cursing, body worship, establish relationship.
AN: Hey anon! I couldn’t figure out any other way to write this than as a smut so I hope that’s alright! I hope I could do your ask justice and that you and all my other lovely readers will enjoy!
Synopsis: Cooper loved that you were smaller than him, whether it was height, stature, weight it didn’t matter, he loved it about you. He wanted to make sure you knew just how much he loves his fun size. ❤️
This one is slightly shorter than my other works but I hope it is just as enjoyable! I’m actually a smaller framed person so writing this comes from a slightly personal place, I hope it can still be enjoyable to those of all body types. Our cowboy doesn’t discriminate and neither do I, know that you are all loved! ❤️
When he called you his lil’ lady, he called you it for a lot of different reasons. One; he was southern at heart, so a few terms of endearment were standard practice for him. Two; was because you were little compared to him, and he absolutely adored that. When he stood near you, he nearly towered over you, and his stature was quite broad compared to you. He could lift more than you, drink more than you, but what you lacked in size, you more than made up for in attitude. He had never seen someone have so much fight and so much poison in their sweet voice. He knew it’s what you had to do, in a dog eat dog world like this, you really had no other options. As much as you may have held a dislike for your smaller stature, he always wanted to assure you that he enjoyed it, and it was in these more intimate moments like this one that he really enjoyed that size difference.
His larger hand came over yours as he took you from behind, his fingers intertwined with yours as he leaned his head into the crook of your neck. He placed kisses against the sensitive spots along your skin, enjoying the moans leaving your lips as his hips slapped against your ass. “Cooper…” you moaned sweetly, your head raising a little as your mouth fell open, his cock brushing your g-spot with each drag outwards and nudged the apex of your cervix with each thrust inwards. “Love this cute lil’ waist of yours” he said, his free hand traveling along your frame, grabbing at anything he could get his hands on. “These hands, look damn good holdin’ a gun in ‘em” he added, worshipping your body as it trembled beneath him, your whimpers and moans sounding like music to his ruined ears. “Everythin’ about you is perfect, darlin’” he finished, and you’d never felt so loved. You never really put much thought into your size before, knowing you were small put you at a slight disadvantage out in the wastelands because most people would take one look and consider you weak, but Cooper knew that was far from the truth. You were one hell of a woman, with firepower and attitude to put someone even taller than him to shame. You were stronger than most ever gave you credit for, and that was almost like a secret power for you. “In another life, I’d have put a baby in this lil’ tummy of yours. Watch you walk around all swollen where you gotta waddle” he said, groaning at the thought of having a child with you, he so dearly missed his baby girl from his past marriage but that was a thought for another time. He felt your walls squeeze around him at the thought, making him chuckle. “Ya like that thought, dontchya, sugar? Felt that pretty pussy tighten around me, you like the thought of me breedin’ you, sweetheart?” He asked with a perverted grin, making you whimper as your face and body fell hot. You’d be a liar if you said the dream hadn’t crossed your mind before but it was one you knew was impossible to think about, especially with how the world was now. You felt his fingers run down to rub tight circles against your clit, making your back arch and your head roll back against his shoulder. “That’s it, arch that back. Cum for me sweetheart, I gotchya” he coaxed, and it wasn’t long before you fell over the edge, the cry of his name leaving your lips like a prayer.
You gasped for air as you panted beneath him, your smaller frame trembling beneath him once more as the feeling rushed over you in pleasurable waves. You whined, feeling him quickly pull out and finish over your back, needing to conserve your resources of RadAway for just a little bit longer before using it again. As you collapsed on the bed, waiting for him to return with a damp rag to clean you, you had a great idea on how to really play with his liking of the size difference. You smirked to yourself as you watched him dispose of the rag after cleaning you up then himself, sneaking his shirt from off the floor and putting it over your tiny frame. His shirt pooled over you like a night dress, all baggy around the middle, sleeves coming over your hands as they almost seemed to disappear beneath the pool of fabric. The bottom of the shirt came to rest just around your mid-thighs, it was perfect. He looked up, giving a mix between a chuckle and a groan at the sight, feeling his dick twitch in his briefs as you stood before him in nothing more than his beaten up, bloodstained shirt. “Careful sugar, don’t start somethin’ you ain’t able to finish” he warned, seeing the mischievous glint in your eyes and grin stretched to your lips. “Not sure I catch your meanin’ there, honey” you replied teasingly as he scooped you up with ease, soon plopping you back down on the bed with him as he all but pounced on you, making you yelp playfully before giggling as he buried his face into your neck. “Ya look damn good in my clothes” he said, making you smile. “It’s a sight you can have every day if ya’d like t’ keep me ‘round” you responded, knowing exactly what his answer would be to that. “Think I’d ever get rid a you? You’re all mine, fun size” he said, making you giggle at the bad pun-based nickname he called you. “Wouldn’t want it any other way” you replied, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his bald head before falling peacefully asleep.
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plutoswritingplanet · 1 month
Text
Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader)
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a/n: as promised, here's the full chapter. as a person who's only played skyrim and oblivion, writing for fallout is like throwing a hot dog into an empty corridor (i will not elaborate)
Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Attempted Kidnapping, Medical Malpractice, Cooper is a mean old man with a boner. Takes place before the events of the TV series.
Summary: The Ghoul takes up a bounty that has been gathering dust for quite some time. You, bored out of your mind, decide getting kidnapped might be the perfect way to entertain yourself. Both of you bite off more than you can chew. Cross-Posted on AO3
PT. 2
Copper knows this job will be different, before he even decides to take it up. 
Scribbled with flaky charcoal, your face looks at him from the notice board every time he delivers a bounty. For months now, a humble title of "The Healer" hangs without change, between criminals, raiders, and people who were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 
Cooper hasn't considered going for you, it was never his first choice. The bounty on your head was moderately low, in comparison to your notice board neighbors.  He had other priorities, bigger than a smeared over pretty face, for half his usual reward.
Until one day, as he stomped his way through the dusty floor, his eyes caught onto your wanted poster yet again. 
Well, to be frank, his eyes strayed towards your portrait almost every time he crossed the threshold, but he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself. Like a constant companion, overlooking all his accomplishments since he decided to stick around the place, your empty gaze followed every transaction, every head delivered onto the table. Some semblance of a routine, he supposed, looking over the board. 
 There, under the regular information, freshly painted numbers stared back at him. A new bounty, significantly bigger than any reward on the board. The red paint was still dripping down the yellowed paper, the addition must've been made quite recently. 
A hefty price. One, that would supply him with enough chems to last for half a year at least. Tempting. Especially now, that he's down to only a couple of vials, his coughing fits becoming longer and closer between. So tempting, in fact, that he tears your wanted poster from the board, finally getting a closer look, a deliberate one. 
Booker gives him a raised eyebrow, all the commentary needed, encapsulated in this simple gesture, and Cooper shoots him a nasty look. There aren't many requirements regarding the job, except one, annoying detail. 
You have to be alive and in good condition. 
Now, alive Cooper could do. Alive is easy. Good condition, however, opened a whole shitbag of problems, which he would be a fool to overlook. Still, the prospect of such money couldn't be ignored. And, he'd be damned to admit it, but he was curious. Who were you? Why haven't you been caught for such a long time? What caused this sudden raise in bounty?
- Did you piss someone off that bad, little lady? - he asks the yellowed paper, and gets no answer, as expected. 
***
The bar is filled with patrons, all tripping over themselves to loose as many caps on cheap alcohol and chems from under the table. It's not as rowdy, as one would expect. This settlement must be one of the few more civilized ones, for the Wasteland's standards at least. Farmers, mechanics, shopkeepers, they all clam together, smelling of smoke, sweat, and alcohol. 
You're here too, hunched over your drink with a sour expression. Your shoulders are slumped, covered by a piece of cloth, that used to be a shawl, but currently looks more like a rag used to wipe down countertops. Despite that, Cooper sees in the way your body is poised, taunt and graceful, that you're neither a naive Vault Dweller, nor a scruffy raider. A skinny scarf is tied around your neck in a fashion, that reminds Cooper of the old westerns he used to star in. 
The sudden influx of memories is neither wanted, nor useful, and he clicks his teeth in annoyance at his own betraying mind.
The Healer, he thinks to himself, making his way through the crowds, until he reaches the side of the bar, one seat from you. Not a glance is spared in his direction. The townsfolk must be used to seeing Ghouls run around the place. Still, when he orders a glass of moonshine, out of the corner of his eye, he can see you peaking at him with curiosity. There's a intelligent glint in your eye, and Cooper feels a shiver of curiosity climbing up his back. He scolds himself for being too old imediately after. 
By all that's holy, you look tired. And not the kind of tired, that sticks to a person living in the Wastelands, no. It's the exhaustion of a shitty day, dragging your eyelids down to flutter against creeping up sleep. The alcohol can't be helping your state, however, it will most definitely help Cooper. He almost feels sorry for you, but if your dumb enough to leave yourself in the open like that, while being hunted, there's nothing more he can do but take advantage. 
Cooper turns his face ever so slightly towards you, looking over your expression for any signs of recognition. He sees none, more than that, there is no emotion at all, not even a blink at his fucked up face. Raising his hand, he touches the rim of his hat in a wordless greeting. 
That finally wrenches some resemblance of a reaction out of you, and with a blink, you tip your glass towards him, before downing its contents. Your cheeks are flushed, lips wet with remnants of moonshine and there's a lock of hair falling out of place, and damn it, Cooper suddenly feels so old.
Ordering drinks while in your current state wasn't the most intelligent thing you could've done. The harsh taste of alcohol burned your throat in a way that was less than pleasant, and for a moment you consider turning to some good old chems for help with... Well everything really. 
It started with Old Lady Sal. 
You've replaced her hip a while back with some scrap metal and a fuckload of reused body parts. Now, every other day she demands you check it out, make sure it's in working order. Which it always is. This isn't your first replaced hip, you know what you're doing.
Then, you had to sit through the insanely uncomfortable marriage offer from Old Lady Sal's grandson, who is not only dumb as a bag of rocks, but also fourteen. 
And to top it all off, suddenly everyone needs you to solve their particular pains of the day. There must be an epidemic of aching heads sweeping through the town, because as soon, as you flee from Old Lady Sal's home, you're being hounded by everyone and their mother, looking to you for help. You were in town for two hours, and your herbs reserve went down to one fucking leaf. 
The Ghoul keeps looking at you from under his hat, and at this point it's gotten from uncomfortable, to straight up creepy. You were not about to pretend this stranger's interest in your particular person didn't unnerve you. Although, thanks to your mother's efforts, and later your own, the town practically worshipped the ground you walked on, the same could not be said about the rest of the Wasteland. 
You had enemies. You had people, who would love to get their hands on you. You were also deeply aware of the bounty placed on your person. Last you checked, it was quite small, but Ghouls don't have it easy out there, and if there's anyone looking like a bounty hunter in this fine establishment, it's the shady guy giving you a shameless once-over. 
So, you place a couple of caps on the counter, and gather yourself best you can. 
Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach was not the best idea, because as soon as you slide off the barstool, your head does a flip. Your balance completely off, you trip over your own feet, already accepting the floor, as your soon-to-be companion. 
That's when something strangely warm wraps itself around your waist, hoisting you up against the counter. The Ghoul smells just about as pleasant as one would expect, but moonshine is a powerful sedative, and instinctually, you lean into the warm embrace. Eyelids flutter, as you look up into the sunken eyes of your savior, and you can see his throat move, as he swallows thickly. 
- Careful now, sweetheart - the voice is low and reminds you of wind whistling through leaves - Gotta keep you in good condition.
Now, if you were completely sober, or at least less drunk, those words would fire an orchestra of alarm bells in your head. Instead, you smile, teeth on full display, as you reach up, to undo a tattered scarf from around your neck. 
- Mmm - you sigh, throwing the piece of cloth across the Ghoul's shoulders - My hero. 
Then, you grab onto his arm, still holding a tight grip around your waist, and lift it up by the sleeve of his coat. Despite your drunken disposition, you duck under the limb gracefully, and shoot the Ghoul a nasty, fully aware smirk. Realization flickers across his face, but before he can move to catch you, a series of body-wrecking coughs shakes his entire frame. 
You hesitate just for a second. The instinct to help is ingrained into your very being, passed down like a mantle from your angel of a mother. But then, self-preservation kicks in, and as the strager reaches into the pocket of his coat, to find his inhaler, you're already out the door, throwing yourself into a mad dash towards your cabin.
You were drunk, not stupid. 
***
The sun has barely had time to rise, when you're rudely awoken by the sound of a fist, pounding desperately on your front door. Hard enough to make the hinges squeak and shake. 
It tears you from your already light sleep, and you scramble to your feet, hastily pulling a shirt over your head, as you make your way towards the entrance. Hand on your pistol, you look out through the small space between two planks, which make up your door. 
It's not hard to understand what is happening. You remember one of the men standing outside your door from the nearby town. Benny or something like that, you were never good at remembering names. Hanging on his arm was another, barely breathing man, who was currently bleeding out right onto your porch. Pete. This one you recognize as a farmer and a hunter. You've treated multiple bites and scratches on him. So did your mother. 
Cursing under your breath, you undid all the makeshift locks with record speed, throwing the door open.
- I'm sorry to bother your so early in the morning Healer - you wince at the title, already making a beeline for the table in your kitchen - Pete and I were just...
Both men follow you closely behind, Pete's boots making a disgusting, sloshing noise. 
- Put him here, face up - you command, throwing a couple of papers to the floor.
- ...Coming back from a night hunt, and this fucking Ghoul was asking around town about you...
- Cut his shirt - another command, thrown over your shoulder, as you begin to rummage through a cabinet filled with chemicals and various herbs, barely registering the words. 
- ...And when we started asking questions back at him, he just shot Peter, right then and there...
You pluck a couple of twisted, dried herbs into your trusty, stone mortar, spitting into it, to gather some moisture. Throwing a semi-clean rag at the man, your voice cuts through his rambling.
- Put pressure on it.
There is no exit wound, and you almost sigh with annoyance at the prospect of fishing out a bullet. It had to be done, however, putting your sleep depriation and a building headache aside, you scoop out some of the herbal paste with your fingers, before pushing past the man.
- Hold his legs down - you mutter, taking a blink-and-you-miss-it moment to check Pete's temperature.
- ...Thankfully, he didn't kill Pete on the spot, so I brought him here straight away.
Pete flinches on the table, as you apply the paste to the wound. That's about as big of a reaction he's capable of, given the amount of blood he just spilled onto your porch. Another thing to clean up, after you take care of the table. What a way to start a fucking day. You can see his eyes follow your movements, barely conscious, but still alive. Sweat beads and gathers at his brow, and you reach out with a clean rag, to dab it off his skin.
Then, as if coming out of a stupor, your eyebrows scrunch together. The story of this faithful encounter finally registering in your brain. 
- A man was asking about me? - you ask, despite already knowing the answer. 
- Well, kinda. A Ghoul. 
You knew which Ghoul, it was not difficult to piece together. 
- And he didn't kill Pete, just injured him - you can feel another headache brewing just behind your eyes, as the sheer stupidity of the man in front of you finally comes to the surface.
They led him to you. 
Three, steady knocks to your door, smug and confident, interrupt the conversation, and deep down you can see the future of every person present in this cabin. As if you've developed some magical powers. 
Stilling your suddenly trembing hands, you settle the mortar back on the table. Thenyou instruct the man to keep pressure once more. Covering yourself with a robe you got as payment for stitching up a sliced finger, you make your way to the door. Fabric flows around your feet, shuffling like the wings of a moth. 
Your eyes flicker to the side, where, placed against a wall, stands a small end table. Under it, you've hidden a rather large kitchen knife, and for a second you debate, whether going for it now would be the best course of action. Call it dumb optimism, but deep down, you pray this is some big misunderstanding, and you'll be allowed to go back to your patient, preferably sooner than later. 
There's no need to bother with a gun, no time too. Pete is bleeding out faster than a stuck pig, and you were not one to leave your customers unsatisfied. Or, in this particular line of work, dead. 
The door opens with a slam. There's a small indent in the wooden wall, where the door handle has hit the surface.  The cabin is slowly entering the state of ruin, although, some places are more taken care of than others. Still, it has a roof, a semi intact entrance and even a window with actual glass in it. Quite the luxury in the Wastelands. 
Cooper didn't know what to expect, not really. Seeing you for the first time gave him a mixture of varying feelings, as well as a rather uncomfortable throbbing in the nether regions. Who could blame him, really? Your wanted poster gave you no favors, and although he was able to recognize you almost immediately, he still felt slightly short of breath.
He scolds himself for getting distracted by his thoughts, and as your eyes lock down on him, he lifts the barrel of his gun, touching the rim of his hat. Your eyes shift like little sparkling gems onto the weapon, before your jaw locks.
- Salutations Ma'am - his voice is rough from lack of use, the southern twang even more prominent, than usual. - I believe our introduction was cut short.
Yellowed teeth flash in a mirthless smirk, and then his expression tightens.
Cooper is used to people reacting, let's say, negatively towards him. Fear is the most common, and he can't blame the masses, he really can't. Disgust, as well, happens quite often. But as he looks over your feverish gaze, he can't really see either one of the emotions. 
No, what you give him is an annoyed roll of your eyes, and he's surprised to say, it bothers him more than he'd be comfortable admitting. He's a goddamned bounty hunter, a ruthless one at that, and a fucking Ghoul. Fuck you mean, you're annoyed by his presence?
- Look - you're already turning away from him, shooting a look towards your kitchen, where he can see a leg twitch in a spasm on top of your table - I ain't got time for whatever this is - your hands wave around in Cooper's general direction. - You'll have to wait your turn.
- Ah, well, I'm not the patient kind.
A squeak of surprise leaves you, as the Ghoul pushes past your body, entering your house gun first, murder clear in his deep set eyes. His steps take him through your living room, dangerously close to your kitchen. You know exactly, what's going to happen, and your arms shoot out on instinct. His body is unnaturally warm, even through layers of clothing, as you wrap yourself around his waist, tugging him back with all your might.
 He looks down on you, more bothered by the sudden contact, than the fact you're trying to stop him. It gives you a small leverage, and you push him back a couple of steps, settling yourself between the entrance to the kitchen, and the bounty hunter, raising your hands and getting ready to fight. 
- I don't have time for this kinda bullshit. Git. - Cooper snarls at you, his gun-free hand coming up to grab at your hair.
Before you have time to react, five fingers twist hard into your roots, and you stifle a scream, as the Ghoul pushes you off of him. On instinct, your hands come up to tug against his wrist, nails digging into the leathery skin. He lets you go with a hiss, and you use that second, to throw yourself towards the end-table. 
Your fingers find the handle with a practiced ease. Then, your body twists like a radioactive viper, and all Cooper sees is a flash of metal. The blade is rusty and chipped, but it could still do some damage. Especially now, that it's pressed against Cooper's jugular, the dull, cold presence halting all his movements. Your eyebrows raise in small recognition at the thin fabric tied around his neck. The scarf. Your mouth goes dry.
- Everything okay back there? - Benny asks from the kitchen, you can hear his approaching footsteps.
- All's well, kee pressure on the wound - your voice is tight with nerves, but the man obeys. 
Cooper watches your face carefully, his gun tucked neatly into the meat of your stomach, ready to fire, should the situation escalate. You can feel it, pressed right into the hollow space under your spleen, a good place to be shot, if you could even say that. You're dealing with a professional, apparently. 
- We seem to have a bit of a conundrum on our hands, little lady - Cooper drawls, voice bordering on a whisper, his eyes follow the way your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips. 
- I have a patient, he needs help - you explain in an even tone, breathing shallow - After that, I'll deal with you.
Despite being at a loosing position, you refuse to back down, your eyes glued to the Ghoul in front of you. You're bracing yourself for the imminent pain, should he decide shooting you would be easier, but it never comes. Instead, the barrel of the gun presses further into your flesh, before lightly retracting. The cold metal is dragged up, across the expanse of your stomach. You bite the inside of your cheek, and surpress a shiver, when it travels between the swell of your breast, and settles into the dip of your collarbones. 
You swallow thickly, Cooper's eyes catching the movements of your trachea like a hungry vulture. The tip of the gun touches the underside of your chin, pushing your head to one side, then the other, as if the bounty hunter is taking inventory in a butcher's shop. Once he's had his fill, he lifts the gun completely, raising his hands as a peace offering.
- Git - you whisper back at him, and a flash of something rushes through his mangled expression. 
You take a step back, chest rising in falling rapidly, blade still in front of you, just in case. Then another step, and the bounty hunter dusts off his coat, before sitting down on a stool in your cluttered living room. You don't like the way he looks at you, eyes shining from under his hat, as he occupies your space like it belongs to him. Long legs apread in front of him, and you try very hard not to sneak a peak between them. Finally, you cross the entrance to the kitchen, and the knife is tucked under the leather belt of your pants. 
A sigh, a roll of shoulders, and you're off.
Cooper watches with curiosity, as you immediately start to work on the poor bastard stuck on your table. Your back is taunt, hands bloodied but steady, as you lean down to take the metal bullet out of the wound. The herbal paste you've provided earlier has dried up, and is currently working wonders for the bleeding, while you reach inside with not-so-sterile pliers. 
- Hold him down - he hears you say, as the legs on the table start to twitch again. 
Finally, a metallic sound of the bullet hitting a dish is heard, and you stand up, making your way towards the cabinet filled with chems. There is a grace to your movements Cooper wasn't expecting. Reminds him of dancers, ballet ones. 
Back in the day, his ex-wife would drag him to all those ballet shows, ones that made him feel stupid and uncultured. He swallows around the memory, willing it to die down, as you shoot him a cautious look over your shoulders. 
He wiggles his gun at you lightly, a reminder, that all this is happening because of his good humor. You scoff. 
Pete starts screaming as soon, as you begin to dress the wound properly. Chemical smell fills the air, and although Cooper lacks the nose to feel it, his eyes water all the same. You seem to be unbothered, years of doing this exact job must've hardened your senses. Finally, it's done. There's nothing more you can do for the man, and you wipe your hand on your forehead, leaving a large smear of red.
- He'll be fine - you mutter towards the other man in the kitchen - He needs rest, and a loads of it too. 
A couple of small bottles and dried herbs land onto a checkered cloth, and you tie it closed, like a small care package. 
- Dress his wounds twice a day - you press the package into the other man's hands while he helps his partner off the table - Good luck. 
Cooper glares at the men, as they stagger out the front door. They don't seem to pay him any mind. Well, the shot one definitely doesn't, he can barely walk on his own. His friend is too preoccupied with keeping him on his arm, to even acknowledge that this whole situation was orchestrated by Cooper himself. Or perhaps, he's to stupid to connect the dots. It's hard to tell these days. 
The door closes with a click, and Cooper stands up from his stool, sauntering over to the kitchen. 
You're currently trying to wash blood off of your hands, which are stained crimson almost up to your elbows. It goes about as well as expected, and as you dry your arms with a rag, there's still a pinkish stain to your skin. 
The table is a mess, blood and herbs seeping into the wooden planks which make up the surface. Cooper leans against the doorframe, as he watches you splash some chemicals onto the wood. It bubbles up in a disgusting mixture of red, green and yellow. You let it sizzle for a moment, before taking that same bowl of water you've been using to clean up, and dumping it all onto the table. The mixture flows down to the floor, the residing surface looking much cleaner. 
- Now, as much as I'd love to sit around and play house with you, honey - Cooper starts, and has to clear his throat, when you look up at him wordlessly, blood on your face and fire in your eyes - I have a bounty to collect.
Sighing, you push your hair back from your forehead, exhaustion, which is synonymous with living in the Wastelands seeping off of you like a tidal wave. 
- Do you have a name? - you ask, reaching for a leather bag sitting on one of the chairs. 
- I do - he says, and you roll your eyes at the deliberate lack of information his answer has given you. 
You mutter something that sounds scarily close to "asshole", and begin to chuck a couple of vials into the bag, then some herbs, then a water canteen. It's like you're ready to move out at any time, and a sneaking suspicion arises in Cooper's mind. This isn't the first time you're in this situation, if your calm demeanor is anything to go by. Suspicious, highly so, and as you turn around to face him, Cooper raises his hand ever so slightly. 
Your eyes fall onto the bundle of rope in his grip, eyebrow raising in annoyance. 
- You serious? 
- As a funeral, sweetheart - he sways the bundle lighty, his other hand pointing the gun at your abdoment - Now, are you going to be good, and come over here? Or should I come over there and make it unpleasant for us both?
- You're already making it unpleasant - you mutter, but cross the kitchen towards him, raising your hands, palms up. 
- Wait. 
Confusion hits you, when the Ghoul reaches into his pocket, producing a small piece of torn cloth. Your entire body goes still, as he grabs onto your chin, cold metal of his gun digging into your cheek, the barrel settling into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. Then, despite your best efforts at freeing yourself from his grip, he brings the cloth to his lips, wetting the fabric with his tongue. 
The bloody smear on your forehead is wiped down rather roughly, and you twist in place like an impatient toddler, when Cooper leans his head back, to look at his handywork. You shiver with disgust, at the feeling of his drying saliva on your skin, and as soon, as he lets you go, you begin to rub at your forehead with the sleeve of your robe. 
- Good condition - he rasps, and if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.
He gives you a nasty smirk, settling his gun down for just a moment, and grabbing your wrists together, so he can tie them up. Which is all the time you need to make a decision, and kick out your knee, nailing him right in the crotch. He doubles over, cursing loudly, hands shooting out to grab you, but all he catches is your tattered robe, which you slide out of easily. 
Fater than he would've anticipated, you grab at your bag, and bolt to the back of the kitchen, where he watches you jump over the table and all but slide out of the house through an open window. It's like a choreographed dance, the way you move out of his grasp. When he reaches the window himself, there's no sight of you, other than the rustling of tree branches somewhere in the woods behind your cabin. 
- Fucking women. - Cooper whistles.
He can't deny the shiver of excitement running down his back, as he secures the hat over his eyes.  If that's how you want to play, he would oblidge. It's been far too long since he could actually enjoy a more challenging bounty. Cooper slowly walks out of your cabin, looking over all the little trinkets you've gathered inside. Then, almost lazily, he lifts the robe you've left him to his nose. He feels nothing, of course, but he has quite a vivid imagination. Vivid enough to supply him with a memory of a scent from his past life. Lavender, he'd bet you smell like lavender. 
Your tracks are deep and visible across the ground, and so, the hunt begins. 
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the-faceless-bride · 3 months
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can i have yandere clawd and deuce poly 😪 iltsm( i love yr writing ur one of my fav writers btw 💞)
Omg. I love both of them so much. 🥩🐍 Bluckle the FUCK up, it's a long one. I love them so much. I gave each their own section as to how this started, then the poly together. If you want more of them... Please... Please ask me. P.s. sorry about all the monster puns, I couldn't help myself
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🌕New Ghoul in School🐍
Warnings: OOC Clawd, OOC Duce, OOC Cleo?, OOC Draculaura? Clawd being a kicked puppy, yandere content, controlling behavior, turning to stone, non-con hugging, cuddling and Kisses, forced closeness, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR!, accusations of cheating, emotional cheating?
Characters : Clawd × Reader × Duce
Proof read : nope
Requested?: yes
You had just transferred from your normie school, Turns out people are so accepting of finding out you're a monster. So you transferred to Monster High, and being a new ghoul didn't seem so hard until you tripped an orange werecats tail and she picked a fight with you...
"and just Who, do you think you are? I don't know how you are your Normie friends play, but you don't want to mess with me Ghoul. I'll make you sorry-"
"why don't you go and pick on someone your own size Torilie?"
"yeah, Dude. Not cool."
🐾🐍 • and that's how it started. Just two Mansters defending the New Ghoul. They knew Torilie was one to pick fights and figured they would help you stay out of trouble for the time being. And the three of you became three peas in a pod. And while you all thought it was great, their Ghoulfriends... Had other ideas.
🐍🕶️ • Cleo started having problems as soon as you had arrived. Your first day she already knew who you were, what you were, where you came from, and if you were cool enough to be popular and associate with the Ghouls she does. And she deemed you not worthy. And that was putting a strain on your friendship.
🐍🕶️ • Duce was grown increasingly tired and frustrated. He loved Cleo, he did. But she could be... Emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausting. When they go out he has to change his personality to not embarrass her, she dictates who can can hang out with and when, and he has to constantly hear from her that he should be doing as she asks and says and do it happily as she goes against what her family wants to be with him. He doesn't want to do that anymore. He wants to be able to Shoot Hoops with Clawd, sit with Jackson at lunch, and talk about the Hissstory test. Listen to whatever playlist Holt made or play dodgeball with Slow Mo. Without Cleo saying when he can and can't.
But he just can't leave her. He's become so dependent on her. Hell, the last time She went to Scarise without him, he nearly went crazy as he didn't know what to do. He couldn't leave Cleo. Even if he wanted to... Unless. Maybe he didn't need to be dependent on her. Maybe. He could be dependent on you.
🐍🕶️ • Duce began to test the waters, which was the start of his obsession. For example at lunch when Cleo tells him to get the green eyed Salad and a water, he'll then turn around and ask you... Sometimes when you feel the burn of Cleo's raging stare you won't respond or say the same as Cleo, but on the days you don't pay attention or to stressed to care you recommend the meat plant sandwich and the yummy razzberry soda pop you've been drinking the past few days. And he'll pick your recommendation. And it Infuriates Cleo. He likes that with you, he has a choice, where Cleo demands and tells. You offer and recommend.
🐍🕶️ • this intimately ends in an explosive argument that Spectra has a field day covering. And Duce does something, not him. Her. Or anyone else in the school say coming. "I'm breaking up with you Cleo." a long still silence fills the halls as everyone takes a moment to process what he just said. Before Cleo screams and storms away, and Duce... Doesn't feel as heartbroken as he thought he should.
🐍🕶️ • Duce starts spending most if not all his free time with you and Clawd, well. Mostly you as Clawd gets called from Draculaura a lot. And while he's sad he can't spend more time with Clawd he's happy to spend time with you. You help groom his snakes, you help him pick which sunglasses he should wear each day, (even though they are all just different shades of red) as well as his many band sweaters. Rumors spread like wildfire, especially with Spectra's gossip site.
"Duce trades princess for new Ghoul?! Stay tuned for the possible new hot relationship??"
🐾🌕 • when Clawd first met you he thought you were great! He got a new friend to hang out with! Sure Manny, Heath, Gill, and Duce we're cool but Clawd has a thing for fashion and self-care, that's not something he really talks about with them BUT that's OK! cuz now he can talk about it with you! He ended up spending a bit of free time with you, anytime Draculaura was out and shopping or just Fanging out with her Ghoulfriends or catching up with her Cousin, he would spend his afternoon with you. Getting his hair straightened and trimmed, getting manicures so his nails don't get too sharp and ridged. And eventually, when he's comfortable with you, he'll start playing games. Like fetch or chase. The only issue is that when Duce started to come around more and Cleo trying to keep him on a leash, slowly Draculaura started calling him and needed him more and more. He didn't think much of it, until Duce's big breakup with Cleo. A week later Draculaura wouldn't leave him alone for a second, and anytime you started approaching she took his hand and pulled him in another direction.
🐾🌕 • it started becoming draining, he loves spending time with his Ghoulfriend. He truly did. But not when every two seconds she was hinting and implying all the time he spent with you was him creeping around behind her back. Nothing he did or said made her change her mind, now everything he did seemed to set her off. She was so paranoid, that he went out of his way to make her a gift to show that he loved her, but he accidentally made it worse, he had to try and hold back tears and puppy cries as she said, "Bad Clawd!" over and over while tugging his ear. He doesn't understand what he did wrong, he just made a new friend. You nor him did anything. So why was she being like this?
Any attempts to talk about it were shut down, as she tried keeping him away from you. And he just couldn't take it anymore, he liked being clingy but he was clingy because he genuinely wanted to be around his partner not just sticking to them like glue-watching like a hawk to 'catch them in the act'. He would go as far as to say this was worse than the time he was dumped for Valentine the love manipulator.
🐾🌕 • Clawd began to confide in you, Draculaura wouldn't listen to him so he was happy you did. He spent hours just sitting under a tree at the back of the school with you, drawing doodles in the dirt, ears tucked back to his head as he vented about his feelings and how the recent arguments had affected him, you tried to help every time. But eventually, word got to Draculaura about your little meetings, and stormed over one day with her ghoulfriends in toe.
Both you and Clawd had to endure the burning glare of the Ghouls, Draculaura ranting and raving and ultimately giving him an ultimatum. You or her. And Clawd's ears pinned flat to his head, he didn't want to lose his Ghoulfriend but he didn't want to lose you either. But before he could answer Draculaura said something that gave him the push to his ultimate answer. "ugh, I should've known! A guy hangs out with other guys like him! And Duce is a lying, dirty, cheater and so are you! And this new Ghoul sure has some nerve to go around sneaking with other Mansters knowing they are dating someone! If that's the kind of Manster you are Clawd then maybe... Eh *hick* MaYbe we shouldn't Be togEther!" a moment passes where Clawd looks down into Draculaura's wet violet eyes, sighs, then answers. "maybe we shouldn't." the ghoul's Gasp and Draculaura sobs, "FINE! WE ARE OVER!"
🐾🌕 • Clawd thought relieved he wouldn't be interrogated every day and being told he's bad, he's still heartbroken that the Ghoul he thought he'd spend his life with was gone. He clung to you and Duce for security and long talks to make him feel better and eventually, he did. Clawd was back to his peppy, wide-eyed, excitable self again. In fact, he's the happiest he's been. His mood wasn't Even shaken when he found out Draculaura had begun dating his sister, he just didn't care. He was happy.
🐾🌕 • It wasn't until a late-night Chat; that you and Clawd had stayed over at Duce's house after seeing a new skinwalker Scareitage Boovie that Clawd discovered that not only He had feelings for you but so did Duce... And well, he had always liked Duce maybe even more than just a bro, but this changed everything. And they agreed. A scarily wonderful idea...
"Vampy puts doggy out for good? Or does Doggy like the Dog house with his chew toy?"
🐍🐾 • now Duce and Clawd are softer yandere's than the normal. But that doesn't mean they won't use force if they need to. Duce is a Dependant, laid-back, stalker-type yandere. He's ok with letting you have wiggle room as long as he knows where you are at all times and can get to you in a short period. Whereas Clawd is a Clingy, overprotective, worshiper-type Yandere. Clawd wants to be near you all the time if you let him, but he's ok with letting you go for a while as long as he has Duce he always knows where you are because Duce knows, if at any point Duce doesn't know for some reason or he's not around Duce to find out, he'll use his nose to track you down.
🐍🐾 • You probably wouldn't know they are yandere's unless you start trying to spend more time with others that aren't them. The more you try and hang out with Operetta and Cupid they start to get a little more aggressive and demanding of your time and attention. Which can trigger some alarm bells that something isn't right. The best thing would be to try and talk and compromise they are willing to do that as long as you promise to let them keep tabs "for safety reasons," and you spend time with them immediately after.
🐍🐾 • after a month or two they start to be more openly affectionate and act like a Throuple, it went over your head at first with Duce's laid-back attitude and Clawd's over-excitable personality being normal, but the more Clawd wanted to play fetch and hug you, and Duce constantly being around you despite having the freedom to hang out with his other dudes you start to get the idea they might be romantically interested.
🐍🐾 • You opened to the idea, and the relationship seemed to be working well... Until they started to become, overwhelming. Clawd always over your shoulder, Duce always seeming to know where you are... Even when you didn't tell him where you were. And things took a turn when you tried to tell them you needed space. "You're... Breaking up... With us?" you sputtered, you definitely didn't answer and deny fast enough as you felt your body start to stiffen and cold. Duce had turned you to stone. Clawd whimpered while holding your cold stiff stone body, "im sorry sweetheart. But we can't have you running from us. Just be good ok? Please?" after that you'd been chained to them by that point. Nobody would've believed you if you told them the school's Cool guy and oversized puppy were forcing you into a relationship...
🐍🐾 • they aren't too harsh on punishments. For the most part. Once you tried to run away once, you waited for a moment to be alone before printing off trying to get somewhere, anywhere but there. But you forgot who you were dealing with and Clawd chased you down. Clawd's punishments involve many forced hugs, kisses, and closeness. If he shows how much he loves you at some point you'll see it's true and love him too! Right?
Duce will turn you to stone anytime he gets an idea you're about to run off. He makes Clawd drag you to his house. Which takes a lot of manipulation and convincing. Clawd doesn't want to lock you away to be alone. He wants you to be around them! But Duce scares him into going along with it. Even sometimes provokes him to anger to be more willing to lock you in a dirty old basement.
🐍🐾 • overall. As long as you stay and promise to love them, and don't mind clinginess it's a cute relationship... But if you reject them, you'll spend a lot of time in an old basement in Duce's home, alive but unable to move. To feel. Or scream.
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inkskinned · 1 year
Text
"it's so embarrassing you like that popular thing" "oh ew that geeky/strange thing is so cringe lol" "oh it's kind of weird you get excited about that harmless shit"
dude i love how ironic and jaded you are and that's so cool and sexy of you. and i am so so glad to tell you - you won!! we all had a meeting and we decided that you won, and we are writing your name on the inside of a burger king crown. the marker smeared, sorry, but we knew any form of real effort is ugly to you. but anyway. congrats! you are officially the coolest, most ironic, most jaded person in-the-world-right-now. we would throw you a party but you would think it was totally boring - and besides, we're weird so we wouldn't have been coming. we would have brought our love of beetles and of baking and of little canapes. we would have brought our artsy videogames and pages of writing. we would have written a poem with you, our hands covered in ink, and spread out a canvas to dance on, the night so lurid and pink.
but do not worry. we will not throw the party. we will just get you a ringlight and that crown i mentioned. it is a nice crown, except for where one of us dropped it.
the vote was a really hard one because we had so many cool ironic people to pick off the shelves. all of you have hands that rot fruit, how strange is that - you can't look at something without destroying it for other people. you like it when you can squeeze a person into a pinpoint - all us small ones scampering our little feet around our ugly joys. the vote was also a hard one because we kept our voices down because you don't like it when we talk too loud. you were on your phone at the time, talking to people other than us. you are a ghoul of every moment - half in, half out, you resent us for being here without shame or embarrassment.
so good news! we have invented an island for people like you. you get to go there and speak into the air things like if you still like watching harmless twitch streamers in 2023 you're fucking boring. you will say things like liveplay podcasts are fucking ugly and it's kind of awkward they try to make everything gay. on the island we made you, all of your words will have weight. they will form in the air like icicles, large white behemoth letters that will crumple in anvils around your feet. maybe we will send someone there once in a while to sweep, but honestly you might be there for a while, alone, waiting. we are busy being outside looking for mushrooms and flapping our hands and humming. we are busy kicking our little heels while we watch cringey tv. we are busy - sorry! as an apology, we have pre-filled the island with every bland, mediocre, unscented thing we could find. the island has the texture of american cheese. the island has an ocean that never gets angry. the island is perfect for you, trust me. you will be so happy there - as happy as you can be, ironically.
we want to say we are sorry for doing harmless things that you find annoying, childish, or unappealing - but we are not sorry. we thought we could help you, because we don't mind laughing at ourselves, but it turns out you are allergic to color and noise and atmosphere, so this is the best that we can do for now. we are all making a big shirt that says i voted in the ironic monarchy. we got you one that is just a fast fashion buttondown. i am so excited for you and this island and the big life you have won. you have a cool jaded grey life and miles of irony to roam. i love you! be well.
now leave us alone.
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ethereal-maniac · 3 months
Text
The Ghouls In Heat HC's
Non-Descript!Fem!Reader x Sodo, Swiss, Phantom, Aether, Rain, Mountain, Cirrus and Cumulus (seperate)
❗️ CW ❗️: nsfw, breeding kink, light exhibitionist kink, dry humping, very horny Ghouls/Ghoulettes, knotting, talk of pregnancy, underwear sniffing, plugging, oral sex, masturbation, cock warming, primal kink, overprotective, posessive, marking, scenting, edging, perv behaviour?, overstimulation, brief mention of bondage.
A/N: let me know if their's any triggers I missed 😅
Do not copy, translate or transfer (plagiarise) or take ‘inspiration’ from any of my fics.
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SODO
his body heat is insane when he's in his rut, cannot be under any blankets or they'll shrivel up with burns.
his needy-ness varies a lot more than the other ghouls during heat.
he tends to want to be holed up in his room with you, doesn't want you to move a muscle without telling him exactly what you're doing first.
he has such an intense urge to provide for you, he goes a bit insane and overprotective to the point where people aren't aloud to walk past his room in case Sodo attacks them.
mating press or doggy all day, he also won't object to some cowgirl/reverse cowgirl when he gets tired but still super horny.
he constantly has a knot or he's building up to one
wants to be smothered in your scent 24/7 so he takes all your clothes out of your closet and scatters them messily around the room
he will also encourage you to not wear any clothes, they'll only get in his way
just needs to touch you at all times, you have to peel him off of you and convince him for 5 minutes that you won't leave him forever when you go to use the bathroom.
sometimes he's crying/whining and scratching at the door if you take too long.
2 minutes feels like an eternity when he's away from you so be sure to give him some intensive cuddles and let him breed you all nice once you're done in the bathroom.
biting any accessible skin at all times.
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SWISS
horny motherfucker is even more horny if that's possible.
will rut against anything, your leg? the floor? his guitar? the wall? it's all covered in his cum.
loves to bend you over every object in sight, he doesn't care if it's in a public space as long as he gets to have you.
all he really wants is to hold you really close to him as he rolls his hips rhythmically against yours, catching you on his knot.
wants to feel like he's protecting you and his yet to be conceived kits.
loves to stare at his cocks outline pumping in and out of your stomach.
he fucking loves when you're loud, he will hunch over you just so he can hear your whines clearly.
like Sodo he wants to smell you all the time, he probably won't hole you up in his room but if you let him you best believe he will carry around a pair of your underwear that's coated in your arousal/cum.
he needs to be able to smell you at any time, what if it's an emergency? :(
sometimes his heat creeps up on him and hits before he's able to find you so he's just trying to get himself off as he writhes on the floor with your underwear pushed to his nose/mouth, waiting for you to find him.
you usually find him pretty quickly, he can't even stop tugging at his cock when he tries to explain to you through hooded eyes that he's began his heat and needs you if you're willing.
doesn't stop talking about how beautiful your kits will be.
especially when you're completely caught on his knot so he can't leave your pretty pussy until it goes down.
he will ask if you'd be comfortable with Sodo joining in on the fun ;)
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PHANTOM
poor baby is so confused when he wakes up from a nap to these overpowering hot flushes and doesn't understand why his cock's so painfully hard, pressed up against the mattress.
he try's to jerk off like usual but he doesn't understand why he just doesn't feel any satisfaction after cumming, if anything it makes him harder.
he goes completely off of his instincts, forgetting the conversation he had about heats with the other ghouls.
his brain is just like 'wanty/n, needy/n, wanty/n, needy/n' on a repeating loop so he's quick to wake you up.
he's only just able to utter out a few words of what's happening before he's pulling you flush against him and dry humping you erratically, moans of relief falling from his lips.
he'd be overjoyed if you let him get off on any part of your body.
he smothers you in kisses, trying to take you all in at once.
he's in heaven when he finally gets inside you, a long whine rumbling from deep in his chest, he almost cums on the spot at feeling you squeeze around him.
he loves mating press like most ghouls during heat, he also loves cowgirl and fucking you while spooning.
he cannot physically bring himself to ever leave you, wether he means leave your side or leaving your pussy, he'll whine like a bitch if you try.
he needs you to smell like him so expect a lot of scenting, he gets high off of smelling your arousal getting mixed with his.
he gets smoochy and smooshes against you like a cat.
so many 'i love you's' and general praising, he wants the first time he gets you pregnant to be special after all.
He has also gotten into the habit of kneading your breasts like a cat does with a blanket, anything to help your lactation even though you’re not even pregnant yet.
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AETHER
he's a lot more in control of his emotions unlike the others but he still feels its all just as intensely.
needs to just feel you in his arms a lot, likes seeing you caged safely between them when he fucks you.
he's quite sensual when fucking you but their's always that underlying desperation to it, his pace quickening slightly or his breaths getting impossibly more ragged.
his ideal day when he's in heat is being with you the whole day, no plans, continuously fucking and cuddling so he can look down at you at the end of the day asleep on his chest knowing your pussy is drowning in his cum.
it physically hurts his cock and his heart to picture his release spilling out of you, he hates the thought that the load currently spilling out of you could've been the one that got you pregnant
plugs are his saviour during this time.
he nuzzles closely to your stomach/thighs, minutes after his knot had popped inside of you, talking to your pussy as he plugs you gently while whispering little prayers to Him that this is the knot. this one will get you nice and round with his kits.
he naps a lot during heat, he's a big boy after all so he always asks if you'll let him fall asleep between your thighs.
a lot of the time this ends in his nose nudging/snuggling unconsciously against your clit all night or his tongue straight up lolling out of his mouth to try and taste your entrance through your underwear. (all of this happening when he's asleep)
just let him fuck a kit into you then get pussy drunk :(
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RAIN
oh my sweet water ghoul.
he likes to fuck in some form of water 90% of the time, wether that's the shallows of the abbeys lake, the bath or the shower.
he's already sensitive but being in the water just makes it double and he has so much stamina that he'll go for at least three rounds before he's shaking in your arms from overstimulation while still needing more.
he's always scenting you, it makes him feel so many emotions to bite into you while he's balls deep in you.
Also has a habit of licking you, specifically your neck and collar bone/shoulders
he feels closest to you when his knot's in you, he like to just cuddle while you cock warm his knot but he can easily be swayed to just fuck it into you until it pops.
he likes to make nests and will pamper you until you're ready to take him again.
Your little exhibitionist will try to palm himself or hump you in front anyone and everyone
don't be mad at him, his cock hurts so bad he just wants to cum :(
he adores finishing in you like all ghouls, but he also love to cum in your mouth and on your stomach 'right there my love, that's where our kit will grow'
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MOUNTAIN
will 1000% drag you out into the forrest during his rut.
he makes a proper nest and fights of any potential threats (those poor fireflies)
sleeps under the moonlight with his body safely curled around yours, his cock safely sheathed in you or between your thighs.
Needs to be close to you at all times or he’ll start growling and his nose/mouth will twitch and drool, showing off his fangs like a dog when it’s mad or territorial.
like Phantom, he also scents you a lot and rubs his whole body against yours.
He communicates in chitters and chirps a lot during his heat apart from the praises that are spoken in english or ghoulish.
you feel so good around him, sometimes he forgets what plane of existence he's on and confuses his languages.
he fucks you with PASSION, like a beast.
his only thoughts during his heat is 'need to make you feel good... i need to feel good... and i need you pregnant with my kit'
He’s affectionately primal when he fucks you.
Sort of animal like, lots of growls and grunts as he completely ruins you in the nest, won’t let you stray from his arms.
when his ruts over and you return to your ministry dorms covered in cum and dirt, you both take one or two more days off with each other to recover and check in.
he's very sweet and concerned after all his heats, he knows it can be intense on the receiving end ;)
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CIRRUS
She gets crazy dominant during her heats.
At first she lets you go about your day without question.
But you'd be a fool to think she'd not follow you around like an assassin, tracking your every move and pouncing on you when you least expect it.
She gets such a rush from seeing your shocked, flustered face beneath her.
Almost every heat consists of her roughly pegging you to the wall or floor so she can tease her knee between your thighs, licking long strips up your neck to then get up and leave you hot and bothered.
it's a cycle she'll repeat all day.
And then after said long day, she ties you to the bed and continues the process with more intensity.
She does make sure you cum though, once she feels temporarily satiated and you're sobbing with need.
Only then does she go down on you or rut into you with the biggest strap she owns, until you've passed out from overstimulation.
Oh and don't think she won't edge you in front of other ghouls or siblings of sin, even papas.
If they get too close she won't hesitate to show them how much you need her.
Her and only her.
She probably marks you more than any other Ghoul/Ghoulette, on your neck, cheek, breasts, stomach, thighs, legs, she wants it all.
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CUMULUS
She stays in her room during all of her ruts and refuses to leave, she won't make you stay with her, but she will be very grateful if you do.
Her heats aren't like the other ghouls in the sense of being insatiably horny and just needing to chase that release, for her, this time is about showing you how much she loves you and how much you mean to her by gentle yet lustful acts.
This time is about both of you, not just her need to get off.
She's extra sensitive during her heats so a firm thrust of your thigh against her core and your thumb brushing over her nipple is enough to make her squirm and crumble.
Or maybe you'll kiss her passionately, gently rub her clit in circles, then sit on her face and she's moaning into your core as she cums HARD.
She's especially vocal during this time, you have to know how good you're making her feel.
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communist-ojou-sama · 7 months
Text
By the way, another little point of hope and optimism to hold onto is that on the point of international law and Israel's flouting of it, a lot of people are justifiably, and with great frustration, asking "what's the point of it if it doesn't apply now?" Well, based on the US' own abrupt about face we can see that it Does matter, and the reason why is good news. See, the truth of the matter is that those of you who aren't fellow Geopolitics Heads might not realize this, and take it as axiomatic that the US is still The Global Hegemon that does as it pleases on the world stage, but increasingly, especially in these past 5 years in particular, that whole reality has been beginning to fall apart.
The truth is, in spite of the scam that is orthodox development economics, little by little, the third world has in fact been rising up to the level with the parasite nations of the West. What this means is that more and more Brazil matters. Indonesia matters. China matters. India matters. Nigeria matters. South Africa matters. Iran matters. So many other countries matter. Not in some abstract moral sense, but in the sense that they are increasingly powerful, and increasingly independent global powers in a world order that is just beginning to take shape before our very eyes.
People forget, but at the height of its power, when the 3rd world was much weaker, the US used to make a big show of meticulously following international law in light of day and equally meticulously covering it up when they violated it, but as imperial collapse continues apace, the same decisionmaking positions are occupied by zealots who are unwilling to operate with the same care as their predecessors, arrogantly believing that the US can do whatever it wants to the rest of the world, even though increasingly, and I can't stress this enough, it cannot.
So while defeat is of course waiting for the Zionist Enemy as well, the US's full-throated support of its vicious attacks on Palestinian civilians has utterly eviscerated any remaining credibility as a fundamentally benign power the US may have had remaining just about anywhere after the Iraq war. Imperialist parasites flock together and they crash and burn together.
Point being, the days in which these ghouls can even appear to "get away with" this kind of barbarity on the global stage are numbered, and they will be over Far sooner than many of you may think. So keep fighting, keep preparing for your own fight when the US begins to collapse in earnest as well, but also take heart. Be ready to celebrate when the colonial regimes are defeated and the fascist international is extirpated, for that day will come without fail.
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