#postal dude x male!reader
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napsfork-brainrot Ā· 4 months ago
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Could I request P3 Dude comforting/encouraging his sad boyfriend? Like a sort of snuggly fluff idea? GN reader is also cool if youā€™re more comfortable with that. :> Thank u šŸ’“
I'm so sorry I have been DEAD in the Postal fandom recently, but I would be more than happy to give you some comfort with this freak bastard /pos.
THIS IS A SFW POST, WOWEE ZOWEE
READ UNDER THE CUT! :3
Dude is usually a hardass; he'll forget to call or text back, he blows up at random inopportune times, and sometimes he just... doesn't give you a lot of attention.
Usually you can deal with your boyfriend being a bit distant, but he was becoming so engrossed with himself that you were starting to feel a bit neglected. You knew it was a bit silly, considering you were both adults and had personal stuff to deal with, but... still! The least the guy could do is ask if you wanted to go out to Burger King or something!
You didn't want to bother him, so you were just about to go to bed to try to sleep off that ever-growing, festering feeling of loneliness. However, the door to your room opened up, and there he was... The Bastard himself. You were both happy to see him but also felt... disappointed. Why did he want to come see you now after he spent almost all week ignoring you?
You huffed and kept your face buried in your pillow, trying to go back to wallowing.
"Heyyy, Prince Charming~! ...Pookie?"
Dude called out from the doorway, holding a bag from Burger King in one hand and a large soda cup in the other. He stood in silence for a moment before the gears in his head finally started turning. With a sigh, he walked into your room, letting the door slowly shut behind him.
"Babe, is this about the "being gone all week" thing? I, uh... I know I don't usually hang around often, but, trust me! If I could, I would!"
You let him ramble on about his excuses for not coming to see you sooner, giving him an annoyed look before turning your back towards him again. With a heavy sigh, Dude shook his head and set the Burger King to the side before he got onto your bed as well.
Without saying another word, he laid next to you and wrapped his arms around you, cradling you in his arms and pressing your back against his chest. His warm arms were soothing and... despite trying to be mad at him, you just couldn't! However, there was still that feeling of sadness... being left alone for so long without any words spoken between you two really left a bit of a rift.
Dude nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck, causing you to let out a short-lived chuckle, which in-turn made him laugh as well.
"Haha..! There's that laugh I love... C'mon, don't be sad, baby... I promise you, I'll spend the rest of the week with you, okay? No shenanigans. No nothing. I'll stay with you, we'll cuddle, we'll snuggle, we'll do those weird little personality quizzes on Buzzfeed... I promise, we'll do whatever you wanna do."
...Damn it! He knew the way right to your heart! ...You can't even be that upset anymore, smiling slightly as you turn to face him with a much happier look on your face. With another chuckle, Dude reached out and poked your nose, flashing you his same smug smile he always wore.
"Heheh! Ahh... There's my prince."
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sil3ntfr34k Ā· 9 months ago
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Postal dude 2 boyfriend headcanons
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ā€¢ Mans is RANCID but you still love him <33
ā€¢ Even with how sassy and sarcastic as he is, he still has a soft spot for you. Isn't very good as showing it, but he does little things here and there to show his love for you
ā€¢ Y'all probably met during one of his errands his wife made him run, bumping into each other in line while he was getting milk. He was very surprised that someone is actually talking to him and not cussing him out. Y'all chatted it up before you had to pay for your items and leave, leaving him alone once again
ā€¢ He would be lying if he said he didn't follow you home like some creep to find out where you live so he could 'check-in' on you periodically
ā€¢ After a handful of conversations and hang outs, he can't seem to stop thinking about you. Even while still married to his current wife, he'd still fantasize about being married to you instead
ā€¢ He eventually does divorce his bitch wife so he can have a life with you. This doesn't bother the bitch anyway since she was already cheating on him with Mike J,,,
ā€¢ Once you two start dating you get to see a softer, more gentle side of Dude. Where he was once a crass and inconsiderate, he has become more understanding and loving. He's surprisingly clingy!
ā€¢ Before you moved in with Dude (or he moves in with you, whatever you like best) he would always hang out at your place anyway. Hell, he'd even bring over Champ just so he could have both his favorite things with him at the same time.
ā€¢ (Champ is literally his son he gave birth to, no one can tell him otherwise. Sure Dude can be a little mean to Champ, but what parent doesn't get annoyed of their kids now and then??)
ā€¢ If Dude moved in with you, then Champ gets upgraded to a house dog and no longer has to rough it outside since his bitch ex-wife didn't like pets. Also Dude still has his trailer and all, but it's more of a 'back-up house' or storage.
ā€¢ No matter if he moved in with you or you moved in with him. he lets you decorate however you'd like. he's pretty adaptable to most environments since he moved around to a lot of different places growing up. Of course he's still messy and smells, but he tries JUST A LIL harder for you
ā€¢ "Sorry babe, but my crack comes first."
ā€¢ Please be understanding of this. He's been through a lot and it helps with a lot of his problems. From his chronic pains throughout his body to his schizophrenic episodes, being unsober helps him relax
ā€¢ Dude is really nervous about telling you about his schizophrenia. His ex-wife always made his episodes worse by yelling at him that he's crazy or something, so he dreads having to tell you. What if you don't understand? What if you get weirded-out and leave him?? What if you start to see him as a burden?? Oh god what is he supposed to do if you want him to leave?????
ā€¢ Underneath his cocky and confident facade, he's actually incredibly insecure and scared. Even just the tiniest bit of rejection or negative action from you is like this roman empire. He had stopped caring about what his ex-wife thought of him long before the divorce so nothing she did or said really affected him. But you. Your too special to him. He hangs off your every word
ā€¢ Dates with him are very,,, intimate? Not in the way you might think of, more of in a 'It's just us' way. He's not exactly a people person so he doesn't want to even see other people while on a date with you
ā€¢ He probably lands on something like a dinner and a show at home or playing some video games while eating all the junk food in the world together. To be fair, there's not exactly a 'nice' area in Paradise, so most couples just stay inside for things like this anyway.
ā€¢ No matter what y'all end up doing, you better believe you have his undivided attention. All you got do is say the magic word ("now") and he will give it to you on a silver platter
ā€¢ Even with how good of a boyfriend he seems to be, Dude is NOT Mr. Perfect. Dude has his bad habits and red-flags too.
ā€¢ During heated arguments Dude can and will throw something at you, might even threaten to kill you tbh. Watch ur step bc that gun is always loaded with the safety off. Doesn't help he's trigger happy too,,,
ā€¢ Dude also needs his alone time. Yesyesyes he loves you dearly, but the man still needs his space. Isn't afraid to say something like "Hey I gotta go do something, be back babe" and proceed to just lay in bed for 3 hours (Postal Dude bedrotting)
ā€¢ It's very hard to get Postal Dude to open up about ANYTHING. Like, after being together for 5 years AND being engaged, your barely learning about his strange and very illegal family tree. Come to think of it, you never even knew he had parents. Yea you know he has to have a mom and dad, but you don't know if they're any good or still in his life.
ā€¢ During a manic/depressive/crack-endued/schizophrenic episode, he makes it very hard for you to be there for him. He doesn't mean to do this, but it's not like can help it. To you, he's just acting-out, but to him, everyone is trying to hurt him and he's not safe anywhere. Suddenly it's like he's a totally different person, constantly running away from you and hiding. Honestly it might be best for you to just wait it out, maybe offer him some comforting words but still stay away.
ā€¢ Overall, Postal Dude is a bumbling idiot who just wants to feel accepted by someone
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blackenedsnow Ā· 1 month ago
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Hiii, I really liked your work and I wanted to ask The postal dudes with a male partner? (Sorry my English is not that good šŸ˜”)
the dudes with a male s/o ; headcanons
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WARNING: Homophobia, violence, mental health themes
PAIRING: Postal (1) Dude x (Male) Reader, Postal (2) Dude x (Male) Reader, Postal (3) Dude x (Male) Reader, Postal (4) Dude x (Male) Reader, Postal (BD) Dude x (Male) Reader,, Postal (Movie) Dude x (Male) Reader,
NOTE: Hi! Thank you so much for your kind words, and Iā€™m so excited to dive into this. Take care, and I hope you enjoy this!
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P1 DUDE
Once he decides he loves you, he really loves you.
His paranoid tendencies make him hyper-vigilant about your safety.
The rare times you go out together, the stares donā€™t escape his notice.
He assumes everyone is judging you, which adds to his paranoia.
Homophobia isnā€™t uncommon in a place like Paradise, but most people avoid saying anything outright because Dude's aura screams unpredictable danger.
In the sanctuary of your home, heā€™s surprisingly tender.
He clings to you at night like youā€™re his lifeline, whispering his darkest fears and hopes.
The intimacy of trust with you is his solace.
Youget mistaken for ā€œjust friendsā€ a lot, especially since he doesnā€™t really express affection in a conventional way.
P2 DUDE
He treats your relationship with a laid-back, ā€œdonā€™t care what anyone thinksā€ attitude.
He loves throwing an arm around you in public just to see people squirm.
If youā€™re feeling down about the judgment of others, heā€™ll crack a joke to lighten the mood.
If someoneā€™s openly hostile, heā€™s more than happy to pull out a shovel or Molotov cocktail to deal with it.
Your home is your safe haven.
Heā€™ll cook you meals (badly), share crude jokes, and snuggle on the couch after a long day of wreaking havoc.
His love language is absurdity, but his commitment to you is genuine.
P3 DUDE
Heā€™s the type to constantly tease you, calling you cheesy pet names like ā€œhoneybunsā€ or ā€œsnugglebear,ā€ but thereā€™s no mistaking the genuine affection behind it.
In Catharsis, people are more vocal about their opinions.
Youā€™ve both faced crude comments, but Dude's unpredictability keeps most people at bay.
He doesnā€™t take homophobia lightly and will defend you loudly and obnoxiously.
At home, heā€™s a clumsy but enthusiastic partner.
Expect him to trip over his words while trying to tell you he loves you, only to brush it off with a joke when he gets embarrassed.
P4 DUDE
Edensin also isnā€™t the friendliest place for a gay couple, but he doesnā€™t care.
Heā€™s proud of you and will go out of his way to make you feel loved.
When someone makes a snide remark, heā€™ll either respond with a firm retort or resort to creative forms of revengeā€”like tossing dog shit at their house.
He loves quiet evenings, slow dances in the living room, and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
Despite his life, youā€™re his calm in the storm.
BD DUDE
Heā€™s tiredā€”of everything except you.
Youā€™re his one constant, and he makes sure you know how much you mean to him through small gestures like sharing his last can of food or holding your hand.
He doesnā€™t care what anyone thinks.
If someone insults your relationship, heā€™ll shut them down with a well-aimed headbutt.
While he rarely expresses his emotions, youā€™ve seen him at his most vulnerable.
He lets his guard down with you, confiding his fears and dreams, knowing you wonā€™t judge him.
MOVIE DUDE
Heā€™s the most outwardly affectionate of the bunch, often making you laugh with his quirky sense of humor.
When someone makes a rude comment, heā€™ll respond with a witty comeback, leaving them looking stupid.
Heā€™s not one for violence unless absolutely necessary.
Heā€™s always surprising you with thoughtful gestures, like bringing you flowers he ā€œborrowedā€ from a neighborā€™s garden or serenading you with a cheesy love song.
People are often confused about your relationship, assuming you're just friends, but Dude will always find a way to subtly correct them.
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livingdeadmlm Ā· 25 days ago
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Master list Requests:Open!
FluffšŸ¤
NsfwšŸ©¶
Smut šŸ–¤
headcannon format šŸ•øļø
Oneshot formatšŸŒ¾
Kinktober 2023šŸŖØ
Kinktober 2024šŸŖ»
Characters with no links have no fics as of 12/15/2024
Also this is in no way every fic I have written as I went crazy when I made this blog so most Jojo fics are lost to time (and not good)
Red Dead Redemption
Arthur Morgan
Low Honor Morgan Priest Reader šŸ©¶šŸ–¤šŸŖ»šŸŒ¾
Werewolf Morgan HCs šŸ•øļø
John Marston
Javier Escuella
VoyeurismšŸ©¶šŸ–¤šŸŖ»šŸŒ¾
Charles Smith
Dutch Van der Linde
Kieran Duffy
Sean MacGuire
Obey me!
Lucifer
Mammon
Pet PlayšŸ©¶šŸ–¤šŸŖ»šŸŒ¾
Tail PlayšŸ©¶šŸ–¤šŸŖØšŸŒ¾
Leviathan
Diavolo
Breast Worshipping šŸ©¶šŸ–¤šŸŖ»šŸŒ¾
Solomon
Barbatos
Simeon
Asmodeus
Beelzebub
Belphegor
House MD
Gregory House
James Wilson
Robert Chase
Eric Forman
Mouthwashing
Captain Curly
Daisuke
Age GapšŸ©¶šŸŖ»šŸŒ¾
Metalocalypse
Nathan explosion
Table SexšŸ©¶šŸ–¤šŸŖ»šŸŒ¾
Pickles the drummer
Toki Wartooth
Charles offdensen
Blood PlayšŸ©¶šŸŖ»šŸŒ¾
Skwisgaar Skwigelf
Yandere Skwisgaar šŸ–¤šŸŒ¾
Dethklok
Nudes with DethklokšŸ©¶šŸ–¤šŸŖ»šŸ•øļøšŸŒ¾
Doing their Makeup before a ShowšŸ¤šŸ•øļø
After a Long TouršŸ¤šŸ•øļø
Breaking Bad/Better call Saul
Saul Goodman
General Dating HCsšŸ¤šŸ©¶šŸ•øļø
Fake Dating to LoversšŸ¤šŸ©¶šŸŒ¾
Lingerie šŸ©¶šŸ–¤šŸŖ»šŸŒ¾
Cuddle HC's šŸ¤šŸŒ¾
Jessie Pinkman
Nacho Varga
Lalo Salamanca
Mortal Kombat
Kung Lao
Dating HCs šŸ¤šŸ©¶šŸ•øļø
Face SittingšŸ©¶šŸ–¤šŸŒ¾šŸ•øļø
Johnny cage
Face SittingšŸ©¶šŸ–¤šŸŖ»šŸŒ¾
Kenshi Takahashi
Reptile/Syzoth
Radian
Liu Kang
Hellsing
Alucard
American Psycho
Patrick Bateman
Creampie šŸ©¶šŸ–¤šŸŖØšŸŒ¾
Complimenting his beauty
Working with Patrick
Big Businessman Reader
Fight club
Jack/ The narrator
Tyler Durden
Dating HCs šŸ•øļøšŸ©¶
Scott pilgrim vs the world/takes off
Scott Pilgrim
Wallace Wells
Lucas Lee
Todd Ingran
Nu Carnival
Eiden
Aster
Morvay
Yakumo
Edmond
Quincy
Kuya
Garu
Blade
Dante
Rei
Other
Oral Fixation Bruce Banner šŸ©¶šŸŖ»šŸŒ¾
Vampire Midas FortnitešŸ©¶šŸŖ»šŸŒ¾
Hol Horse šŸŒ¾
Mike Schmidt with an Insomniac ReaderšŸŒ¾
Monster Fucking with Postal DudešŸ©¶šŸ–¤šŸŖØšŸŒ¾
Ryo Asuka with Affectionate Devilman šŸ¤šŸ•øļø
Clingy Reader with Gyro Zeppeli šŸŒ¾
Hugging Miles EdgeworthšŸ•øļøšŸ¤šŸŒ¾
Akira Fudo with a himbo bf
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angel-adventgarde Ā· 5 months ago
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I have single handedly created a term for all postal dude fans
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montimer Ā· 11 days ago
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Postal dude x male!reader || Random smut hc's
If ur trans just imagine usin a dildo ā˜† || female dni
Postal 2 ver
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When fucking him you get him into such a mess. Legs shaking, moaning and he even screams from pleasure. This man can be so frickin loud. Well you can always quiet him down with a make out session. He'll be gasping for air later and moaning into yer mouth, but don't worry its just the way he likes it. Rough.
He loved to be in control but now having you, he learned whats its really like to be a bottom. And he loves it.
Like bouching up and down on ur length. Gripping into you, his eyes half way open full of lust.
Tbh he can be pretty horny most of the time. He just has to take a good look at you and thats it. For example how the shirt that you were wearing was perfectly stretched around you. He cannot help but stare. He also cannot help but slowly get a boner..
Peg him, fuck him from behind, make him a drooling mess.
He just gets an erection again from your touch.
The very first time he feels being penetrated he'll give out a gasp. His mind feeling fuzzy.
You make him feel such pleasures that he never felt before. Feeling you hitting his weak spot faster once you found it. It makes him beg
He loves both giving and receiving bites and hickeys. Especially on his neck.
Congratulations you have made this man into a blushing mess.
For aftercare just hold him and caress his hair. He loves it, makes him feel so loved
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lunatic-pudge Ā· 5 months ago
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Hate that I've been sick this whole dang month so far. Every time I'm on the phone with my Father, I feel so out of breath trying to say short ass sentences. Poor guy probably thinks I have Tuberculosis or something.
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titularkilljoy Ā· 4 years ago
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sometimes and always
//a love story in five acts
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: It's hard to resist falling into bed with a cute neighbour, but it turns out it's even harder to resist falling for him. (alternatively- Spencer Reid and the reader struggle to resolve their feelings but make valiant attempts to do so while lying horizontally in each other's beds.)
Word Count: 7k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, strong language, decidedly non-American spelling conventions
Author's Note: SO. This fic was originally part of a fic swap for the wickedly talented @imagining-in-the-margins, but it is now over six months too late. Thankfully, patience apparently springs eternal in her?? besides all the other amazing things?? Unfair, but good for me. So, Pom, this one is for you. Thanks for being the absolute best and putting up with my rants and not judging me for mocking everything and everyone all the time. Love, Perpetually Tardy.
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(i)
This is how it happened the first time.
I was frowning at the pitiful stack of mail in my hands, wondering if the conspicuously missing letters and subscriptions would ever be returned to me. Ever since moving to my new apartment, I had been at the mercy of the Postal System and that was never a good situation to be in. Iā€™d resigned myself to having to take an extra trip back to my old building and do some investigating, when the elevator dinged and I stepped in. Just as the doors slid closed, there was the frantic rumble of footsteps and a hand slipping into the narrowing gap.
The doors sprang apart to let in the harried owner of the appendage, who barely spared me a glance before turning to face the front, eyes briefly darting to the buttons. It took me a second to recognise him. It was the guy from the apartment opposite to mine, although so far that seemed to be only a nominal living arrangement; in my two weeks there, Iā€™d seen him exactly once, merely in passing, and we had exchanged a sum total of zero words.
I followed his lead and stopped blatantly staring at him, though I continued studying him covertly through my peripheral vision. He lookedā€”well, his jawline looked like it could cut glass effortlessly and he had the soft chestnut hair of a male model and I knew I was probably going to develop a very embarrassing crush on him at some pointā€” but besides that, he looked browbeaten, his whole posture seeming to buckle under the invisible weight of the world.
There was an awkward moment when he realised we were both heading in the same direction, and I took it upon myself to break the ice.
ā€œHi,ā€ I greeted, introducing myself, ā€œI just moved in. I donā€™t think Iā€™ve seen you around.ā€ I gave him my warmest smile.
His swift assessing glance would have escaped my notice if I hadnā€™t been paying such close attention; his expression was still shuttered off, but he offered an endearing little quirk of his lips and an introduction. ā€œSpencer Reid. Iā€™ve-uh, Iā€™ve been away on a work thing.ā€
ā€œOh? What do you do?ā€ I asked, beginning a leisurely walk down the hallway and fishing my keys out of my bag. I immediately regretted the query when, impossibly, his eyes became even more guarded.
ā€œIā€™m an FBI agent.ā€
Well, that clipped admission would have given anyone pause. ā€œOh, wow. Thatā€™s really impressive, dude.ā€
ā€œThanks.ā€ He hesitated before adding, ā€œIā€™m part of the Behavioural Analysis Unit.ā€
ā€œSo, youā€™re like a psychologist?ā€
ā€œI catch serial killers.ā€
ā€œOh.ā€
ā€œYeah.ā€
The silence wasnā€™t uncomfortable so much as it was brimming with my insecurities. The alcohol in my blood helped with that, though; the next words were out of my mouth before I even registered the thought.
ā€œDo you want to come in?ā€
ā€œOh, uhā€”ā€
He was going to say no.
ā€œItā€™s just that you look like you could use some company. And I think itā€™s absolutely criminal that we havenā€™t gotten to know each other yet.ā€
ā€œItā€™s really late.ā€
But he was rocking forwards on his toes just the tiniest bit, leading me to believe that some part of him did want to take me up on my offer that night.
ā€œSo it is. Come on, Agent Reid. Be a good neighbour.ā€
ā€œItā€™s Doctor, actually,ā€ he corrected. ā€œDoctor Reid. I have Ph.Ds. Three of them.ā€
My eyebrows had risen to my hairline and, sensing the change in the air, he hurried to put me at ease. ā€œBut you can just call me Spencer.ā€
ā€œHuh. You donā€™t hear that every day.ā€ I chuckled sheepishly. ā€œWell, come on in, Doctor.ā€
There was a moment when his whole body leaned towards me and his face looked conflicted but slightly enthusiastic, and I was convinced I could turn the night into a very pleasant one for both of us. Then, with a loud clatter, my keys slipped from my hands, startling us. The moment was broken, and I sighed in resignation.
ā€œLet me guess, youā€™ve decided Iā€™m too drunk and weā€™re going to go our separate ways.ā€
At least he had the good grace to look apologetic. ā€œI just donā€™t think itā€™s a good idea right now,ā€ he told me slowly as he bent down to pick up my keys and pressed them securely into my outstretched hand, ā€œItā€™s late and Iā€™ve had a long day. Iā€™ll...see you around?ā€
ā€œSure,ā€ I managed to say with a regretful smile, ā€œIā€™m holding you to that.ā€
*~*
That, however, turned out to be easier said than done, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was the Herculean feat of unpacking and organising my new place with a mild hangover and a tinge of frustration over lost opportunities looming over me. Once that was dealt with, the bigger challenge turned out to be actually locating the man in question. I knocked on his door a few times, but when the responding silence continued to persist for over a week, I began to think heā€™d just been a drunken hallucination in the first place. And the longer I went without any follow-up interactions, the more intensely I started overthinking the slightly fuzzy memory of our brief conversation.
Of course Iā€™d managed to make a fool of myself in front of a really cute guy. That was absolutely in character for me. Every time I passed by his door, I convinced myself a little more that I owed him a sincere apology for my poor, inconsiderate conduct.
Beyond the embarrassment, however, work didnā€™t leave me much time to think about it, and by the time I was trudging to my apartment the next Saturday, the whole encounter had been relegated firmly to the back burner. Naturally, that was when the faint glow of light under his door distracted me from the very passive-aggressive email I was composing. I hesitated.
The deep breaths I sucked in didnā€™t serve much more purpose than to make me somewhat lightheaded, but I forged on anyway. I knocked on the door, and waited.
There was silence, followed by the sound of reluctantly shuffling feet, and then, finally, I was face to face with Spencer Reid once again.
ā€œUm,ā€ I started, ā€œhi.ā€
He stared at me wordlessly for a beat, during which I started to wonder if heā€™d actually forgotten me already.
ā€œSo, we met the other day, and I just want to apologise. I didnā€™t mean to come on to you so strongly, and I get that you werenā€™t int-ā€
ā€œDo you want to come inside?ā€
ā€œ..What?ā€
ā€œDo you want to come inside?ā€ he repeated, enunciating clearly. That didnā€™t clear up my confusion, though.
ā€œUm. Yes? Sure. I mean, no, shouldnā€™t we talk about this a bit?ā€
He let out a tired laugh. ā€œI donā€™t want to talk right now.ā€
ā€œAlright,ā€ I said, biting my lip. I followed him inside, and pushed the door closed behind me; it emitted an innocuous little click as it fell shut.
There was something about the weariness behind his eyes and the careful set of his jaw that made me want to study him and understand what was going through his head, but all I could glean that night was that Spencer didnā€™t seem amenable to much time spent on documentation.
ā€œSo,ā€ I began unsurely, shedding my jacket and scanning the contents of the room, the piles upon piles of books and the distinct lack of much else, ā€œtell me about yourself.ā€
ā€œDidnā€™t I already do that?ā€
ā€œHmm, thatā€™s not the whole story,ā€ I mumbled, running my fingers over a broken-spined, wrinkled copy of Paradise Lost laid open on a heavy wooden desk. A single smudge of blue ink stood out against the yellowing page, and beside it, the print read: This horror will grow mild, this darkness light. ā€œYouā€™re not just an FBI agent.ā€
ā€œThatā€™s all thatā€™s important,ā€ he asserted, taking a step towards me. He had one eye on my curiously wandering fingers and, sensing that it was making him more antsy than he needed to be, I tucked my hands into my back pockets, facing him with a grin of false bravado. I really wished I was drunk. That would have made things infinitely easier.
ā€œBesides,ā€ he continued, this time meeting my eyes directly, ā€œI donā€™t know anything about you either.ā€
ā€œFair enough,ā€ I conceded, stepping closer to him.
His eyes didnā€™t leave mine, until my own strayed to the bobbing curve of his throat and the tantalising motion of his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. Not for the first time that week, I wondered how terrible of an idea it would be to try to kiss my attractive neighbour. I could see my own apprehensions mirrored in his stance, and I saw the exact moment when he identified the focus of my gaze.
I didnā€™t have to spend much time contemplating. He decided, just as I did, that any consequences of this impulsive decision could be dealt with later.. I lunged for him just as he closed the distance in one long stride, grasping my jaw in both his hands. Then we were firmly attached at the lips, and his arms wrapped around my waist and dragged me closer, seemingly intent on devouring my mouth. Gradually, our actions slowed a bit, the kiss turning softer and more exploratory, our tongues winding around each other gently, my lungs readily accepting his deep, nasal sigh.
His arms around my waist were a steadily spreading band of warmth, and I could feel the growing evidence of his arousal against my thigh. I found myself thinking I could be very happy with just kissing him like this, feeling his breaths tickle my face, letting my hands suffer minute pinpricks from the stubble littering his jaw. But then his grip shifted to my hips and tightened ever so slightly, and it was like Iā€™d been doused with fuel and set alight. My fingers struggled to unbutton his shirt as he pressed distracting kisses along my neck, my soft whimpers breaking the relative silence of the room.
All of a sudden, the ground shifted and my stomach swooped, and it took a second or two before I realised I was now in his arms, being carried towards, presumably, his bedroom. Content, I got to work on undoing the last button and trying to slip the shirt down his arms entirely. He granted me a chuckle for my troubles before laying me down gently on our destination and taking it off himself.
He didnā€™t waste any time in sinking his knees into the soft mattress on either side of my legs, helping me out of my own clothes and methodically kissing every bit of newly exposed skin, until finally, I was clad only in flimsy cotton and he was nosing at my aching core. With two fingers, he deftly removed the last of my defences and pressed his mouth against me. I moaned, my hands flying to his hair and trying to keep from pulling too hard as he used his tongue to examine every inch of my arousal, evidently experimenting based on the sounds he managed to elicit from me.
ā€œOh, my God,ā€ I babbled, hips bucking wildly under the iron grip holding them down.
ā€œTell me,ā€ he demanded, pulling away slightly, ā€œtell me how much you like it.ā€
ā€œSpencer,ā€ I breathed desperately, ā€œPlease. I need- I need more.ā€
He hummed leisurely against me, frustrating me to no end. My grip in his hair tightened at last, guiding him where I needed him most, and I swear I felt his lips stretch into a smile.
It went on for what felt like hours, but there was no earthly way I could have lasted that long. He took mercy on me eventually, plunging two long fingers deep inside me, closing his lips around the bundle of nerves that, predictably, sent me into a violent, shaking climax. He nursed me patiently through the aftershocks, waiting till my legs had stilled before rising to undo his belt and rid himself of his pants. I was already mourning the loss of his closeness, and I pulled him back on top of me the moment he was within reach.
ā€œCome on, Doctor,ā€ I taunted, ā€œItā€™s time you made good on your promise and got to the main event.ā€
ā€œI never promised anything,ā€ he retorted, but the playful glint in his eyes excited me, and while he reached over beside us to the nightstand, I rose to the occasion.
ā€œOh? Well, if you donā€™t want to, I guess Iā€™ll just head out, then,ā€ I teased, going so far as to attempt to sit up from underneath him. I felt a low, threatening sound begin in his chest and make its way up his throat as his hands gripped my wrists and brought them down to my sides, pinning me in place.
It was my turn to chuckle at his eagerness, lifting my head to briefly peck him on his lips.
ā€œDonā€™t worry, Spencer,ā€ I cooed, ā€œIā€™m not going anywhere. Now fuck me already.ā€
ā€œWith pleasure,ā€ came the response, and while I wondered idly how a smirk could simultaneously be sinister and bashful, there was the sharp sound of crinkling foil, and then he cut off my thoughts by entering me in one fluid motion.
ā€œFuck!ā€ I cried out, holding him around the shoulders, bringing him impossibly closer.
ā€œThatā€™s it,ā€ he groaned in my ear, ā€œlet me hear you.ā€
He set a torturous rhythm, thrusting into me harshly before pulling out slowly, carefully, making me relish the sensation, anticipation building steadily in the pit of my stomach and spreading until it engulfed me. A ceaseless litany of moans and whimpers filled the air around us, the source of each barely discernible. At last, I could feel myself riding the very precipice, and his name began to fall from my lips like a prayer.
ā€œSpencer,ā€ I called, ā€œSpenc-ā€
He swallowed the rest of my inconsequential cries, bringing his thumb to where we were joined to guide me over the edge, and as I convulsed around him soundlessly, he reached his own climax, blunt fingernails leaving crescent marks on my hips, his heavy panting breaths stuttering, once, against my clavicle, before calming and slowly evening out.
We stayed that way for a few minutes, my hand combing lightly through his hair, his closed-mouth kisses pressing against my neck like a balm. Eventually, though, we had to move, and it was he who did first. He pulled out and walked away from the bed without looking at me, tossing the tied-up condom in the trash. I sat up, cross-legged, watching him for a bit, pursing my lips when I noticed he was actively avoiding my gaze.
I cleared my throat. ā€œWhereā€™s your bathroom?ā€
He pointed in a general direction and mumbled something incoherent; sighing in disappointment, I stood up gingerly and went to clean myself up. When I returned, the room still smelled like sex, and Spencer was still evasive, but he was sitting on the edge of the bed now. He looked up when I entered, watching me pick up my clothes.
ā€œAre you alright?ā€ he asked quietly.
I glanced over at him. ā€œYeah, Iā€™m good. You?ā€
Nodding, he watched me get dressed, then followed me into the living room and watched me drape my jacket over my arm. Then he watched me walk to the door, all the while not saying a word.
The cool steel of the doorknob in my hand, I looked over my shoulder one more time.
ā€œWell, Spencer. You know where to find me, I guess,ā€ I muttered, shaking my head slightly. Then I left his apartment, and despite the enormity of what had transpired during my visit, the click of the door closing sounded exactly the same.
.
(ii)
Of course, after that, I resolved it would never happen again. The man next door clearly had some issues with what we had done, and I couldnā€™t be bothered to solve them. It was, frankly, idiotic to jeopardise the prospect of good neighbours in favour of sex, however great it might have been.
It was embarrassing how quickly my resolution packed its bags and jumped out of my third-storey window.
I was awoken the next morning by three firm raps on my door. I think I knew, somehow, who was trying to get my attention, so I took my time, but the reveal of Spencerā€™s regretful face didnā€™t surprise me any less. I was wary as I stared at him wordlessly, cycling through all the possible reasons for his visit, and his eyes dropped to the way my arms tightly hugged my midsection. He winced then, meeting my eyes.
ā€œIā€™m sorry for the way I acted,ā€ he blurted, and it sounded so rehearsed that I had to stifle a guffaw. There was a flicker of something in his eyes that could have been frustration, but he powered through. ā€œIā€™ve had a pretty terrible week at work and I think I was trying to get something out of my head. But I was awful to you, and it was completely my fault. Iā€™m sorry if I offended you. I had...a great time.ā€
Iā€™d been watching him carefully throughout his speech, and if he was faking the earnestness in those last couple of lines, he was an extraordinary actor. I concluded, as I studied the apologetic slump of his shoulders and the dark bags into which his eyes had sunken, that I didnā€™t need to worry about the veracity of his words.
ā€œItā€™s okay,ā€ I said hesitantly. ā€œI mean, no, itā€™s not okay, it felt really awful, but thanks for explaining. I get it now.ā€
ā€œOh,ā€ he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking off to the side, ā€œthatā€™s great. Thank you.ā€ He shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
ā€œProblem?ā€ I was bemused.
ā€œNo!ā€ He was looking back at me, now. ā€œI- well, to be honest, I wasnā€™t expecting it to be this easy. I thought Iā€™d have to convince you.ā€
ā€œHuh. Well, you can still convince me, Doctor. Give me a second to get ready. Youā€™re buying me breakfast.ā€
I quite liked the shy smile that graced his face in response.
*~*
It kept happening. There was no way I could have stopped it, and there was no reason I would have wanted to.
We quickly grew into a familiar rhythm. Each time, it started with one of us having a particularly stressful day. Each time, it started with a knock on the door and some perfunctory shuffling around. Before wasnā€™t the time for talking. Each time, weā€™d stumble into whichever surface was closest, and every time it wasnā€™t the bed, Spencer would make some halfhearted protests about germs and hygiene, before I shut him up very effectively with a manicured hand on his dick. Each time, in the During, I marvelled at how well we fit together, how quickly weā€™d learned each otherā€™s bodies, and each time, I saw more of him than I had the last.
And I loved every bit of it.
Spencer no longer retreated into his shell in the After. Heā€™d try sometimes, but I knew how to coax him out, now. Iā€™d slip my hand into his, ever so gently, and wait. Or Iā€™d sling one arm around his waist until he returned the embrace. I was getting scarily good at reading him. It was like working on an intricate puzzle, and every new achievement was rewarded with a deeper, longer look into his mind.
I carefully stored away every casual anecdote about someone from work or his godson or his mother, and I loved to watch the life burn bright in his eyes. Of course, they were all happy stories. I could sense the bittersweet aftertaste they left in his mouth, but he never let me inspect it too closely. In turn, I regaled him with tales of my own, of my sister and my parents, of my cat that was perpetually falling asleep on top of me. I told him all the easy, palatable things, holding back just as much as he did, always careful to maintain the wall of superficiality.
But things did slip through the cracks every once in a while, from both of us-- they were bound to, what with the sheer amount of time we spent together in various states of undress. Things that made me burn with curiosity that couldnā€™t be sated without jeopardising the very foundation of our arrangement. So I turned a blind eye to the jagged scars on his thigh and neck when he failed to maneuver to hide them; in return, he kept mum when I walked into his apartment, on the day of my worst professional disaster, with runny makeup and bloodshot eyes, shivering all over.
If he noticed that I kissed the skin over his scars a little more tenderly, lavishing attention on him the first time I saw them, he didnā€™t show it. If he liked the way I always nuzzled my face into the one on his neck when we were done, he didnā€™t show it.
For my part, I tried very hard not to read into the slow, shallow thrusts or the almost reverent way he handled me when my tears still hadnā€™t dried. I definitely did not read into the arm over my shoulder or the slightly baffled crease in his brow while we sat on his couch with a random episode of The Office.
And if, maybe, the frequency of his visits increased as the months went by, who could blame him? He was an FBI agent. He probably had a lot of bad days.
Sometimes, though, Iā€™d go over when Iā€™d had a good day and I felt like celebrating. Sometimes, Iā€™d knock on his door just because I was bored and I wanted to see him. It wasnā€™t as if he would know the difference. Our bodies knew how to be around each other, and that was all that mattered.
This was just stress relief, after all.
(ā€œHave you ever been in love?ā€ I asked him once, abruptly, my heart still pounding as the sweat cooled on our skins.
He glanced at me warily, but he must have detected only honest curiosity on my face, not lovesickness or anything else that would have had him running for the hills.
He chewed on his lip for a moment. ā€œOnce.ā€
ā€œWhat happened?ā€ My finger traced an aimless pattern on his chest.
ā€œShe loves me,ā€ he said, ā€œbut she isnā€™t in love with me.ā€)
We never articulated any feelings we may or may not have about each other or our situation. We dodged sincere conversation like it would kill us. So all the pieces we owned of each other were ones that we had been remiss in guarding diligently. That only made them all the more precious.
But on the heels of every stolen glance, there was a moment where he looked right through me, where I felt blank and insubstantial, like I was a placeholder for something or someone, and that would be enough for the wall to be between us again, rigid and unrelenting.
It was a shame that I was stupid enough to hold on to the scraps that fell through anyway.
.
(iii)
I was an immensely stupid person.
That was the only explanation for why I was leaning against the outer wall of our apartment building at three in the morning, desperately shoving my hands into my coat pockets to brace against the cold.
ā€œYou donā€™t have to be here.ā€
Can he read minds now? I wondered sullenly. Spencer was sitting on the front steps, with his head in his hands. His hair was dishevelled, and his eyes were the picture of torment. I would have loved to console him, but every attempt so far had been firmly rebuffed.
He had knocked on my door an hour ago and silenced my greeting with a bruising kiss. Of course, I knew how to do that dance, but Spencer had been off his rhythm tonight. When Iā€™d reached for his shirt, heā€™d pushed my arms away. When I had kissed his jaw, he'd flinched. When Iā€™d finally retreated in concern to ask him what was wrong, he had huffed out that he was perfectly fine, before trying to lift my shirt over my head.
Iā€™d pushed him onto the bed and tried to distract him, and he had responded by clenching the sheets in his fists instead of grabbing my hips. Iā€™d whispered his name in his ear the way he usually loved, and heā€™d climbed out from under me, sitting up on the bed with his chest heaving. At that point, Iā€™d given up. What had followed was an exercise in patience.
(ā€œSpencer, whatā€™s wrong?ā€ Iā€™d asked again, to no avail.
ā€œItā€™s nothing. I donā€™t want to talk about it,ā€ heā€™d gritted out, glaring at me.
Iā€™d sighed. ā€œOkay, which is it? Nothing, or that you donā€™t want to talk about it?ā€
Silence.
ā€œWell something is clearly bothering you. Am I just supposed to ignore that?ā€
ā€œWe donā€™t need to talk about anything.ā€ Heā€™d tried to kiss me again. That time, I was the one who pushed him away.
ā€œNo, Spencer, this isnā€™t working. I donā€™t think we should do this tonight.ā€
The glare had intensified. ā€œFine.ā€ Heā€™d gotten up and tried to put his shirt back on, but his hands were shaking.
Cursing my investment in this man, Iā€™d helped him while he stared daggers at me. When heā€™d hunted down his shoes and made his way out of my apartment, Iā€™d pulled on my coat and followed, petting my cat briefly when he tried to follow us.)
So now we were outside, experiencing the most awkward silence ever known to man. Every time I attempted to put a hand on his shoulder or sit beside him, he would tense up yet again.
ā€œYes, Spencer,ā€ I replied at length, ā€œI do. You look like you might accidentally walk into traffic. Iā€™m not leaving.ā€
ā€œItā€™s not your problem.ā€ The petulance was beginning to get on my nerves. I hadnā€™t signed up for sleepless weeknights.
ā€œYou donā€™t have to talk about it if you donā€™t want to,ā€ I told him, shrugging.
I pulled out my phone to distract myself with the cute animals in my game. Spencer was still worryingly silent. But if he didnā€™t want to talk to me and he wouldnā€™t let me near him, there was little I could do but stand there.
Every now and then, his breathing would hitch, and I would study him out of the corner of my eye. Whether he fully registered my presence or not, I was unsure, but he seemed to be calming down. He looked less on edge, his eyes less wild, and I was about to approach him and try again, when a black car pulled up just ahead of us.
Both our heads jerked to attention, but the petite blonde who exited the car only had eyes for Spencer.
ā€œSpence!ā€ She rushed to him, pulling him into a hug that he slowly reciprocated. ā€œYour phone is off. After what happened, I was so worried,ā€ she murmured into his hair, her eyes shut in relief.
And Spencer-- Spencerā€™s face was something to behold. His eyes were tightly closed, his lips turned down unhappily, and his face was so naked and open that I almost looked away. Almost. The pain that shone there riveted me. I felt as if I could see every wound he had ever suffered, in that instant. Heā€™d never shown me that before. And he still hadnā€™t-- this wasnā€™t for me. The embrace broke, but his face stayed the same while the woman fussed over him.
Something came back to me, a fragment of a memory. She loves me but she isnā€™t in love with me. Unbidden, a sound of realisation escaped my throat, drawing two pairs of eyes to the dark corner in which I had been so far obscured.
Spencer schooled his face back to some semblance of normalcy, and ran a hand through his hair.
ā€œUh, JJ, this is--ā€
ā€œLeaving,ā€ I blurted out, then cleared my throat. ā€œI was just leaving. Work in the morning. Nice to meet you.ā€ I tried to smile at her, but it felt more like a pained grimace.
I brushed past both of them, but hesitated on the top step. ā€œSpencerā€¦ā€
His gaze was inscrutable, and I was too tired to try to decipher it.
ā€œFeel better,ā€ I mumbled, and then I left them there.
*~*
I was not sulking.
I told myself this as I lounged on the couch in my most comfortable pyjamas, stuffing my face with junk food and watching Michael Scott lament his foot injury.
So what if Spencer was in love with a beautiful blonde while getting him to talk to me was like pulling teeth? It wasnā€™t like Iā€™d been carrying a torch for him. We were just extremely compatible sexually. And in very close proximity to each other. That put us in the ideal position to hook up whenever we needed it. That was the extent of our relationship. For all I knew, heā€™d been sleeping with other people this whole time. I hardly had the right to protest it if he had. We hadnā€™t set up rules. We just fell into bed together as and when we liked.
It was a good, uncomplicated thing.
So I needed to make sense of whatever needless jealousy I was feeling, before I ruined it. I couldnā€™t sit around being pathetic. I had a life.
There was a knock on the door.
Sighing, I turned off the TV and put the snacks away. Spencer was quiet as I let him in. His eyes roamed the small living room as if he didnā€™t know his way around my place as well as he did his own. I perched on the arm of the couch and stared at him, hoping my face didnā€™t betray the rollercoaster of emotions Iā€™d experienced over the last forty-eight hours.
ā€œSo,ā€ I started, ā€œyou okay?ā€
He looked a bit startled, as if he hadnā€™t expected me to address it at all. I tried not to roll my eyes.
ā€œYeah. Iā€™m alright.ā€
ā€œDo you want to tell me what happened?ā€ I prompted, ā€œIt was pretty intense.ā€
ā€œIt-uh, it was a work thing. JJ helped me out.ā€
Of course she did. ā€œGreat,ā€ I said aloud.
We looked at each other for a beat. ā€œSheā€™s the one, isnā€™t she?ā€ I blurted before I could stop myself.
ā€œWhat?ā€
ā€œThe one youā€™re in love with?ā€
There was a telltale spot of red high on his cheeks, even as he sputtered. ā€œThatā€™s not-- I mean, yes, but that was--ā€
ā€œItā€™s fine,ā€ I said cheerily. ā€œI was just curious.ā€
He frowned at me. ā€œSheā€™s my best friend, itā€™s not--ā€
ā€œNo, I get it.ā€ My stomach was somewhere near my feet. ā€œSo, do you wanna fuck?ā€
Again, he seemed taken aback. ā€œWhat?ā€
ā€œIsnā€™t that why youā€™re here?ā€ I directed my gaze at his meticulously polished shoes.
ā€œNo.ā€ A pause. ā€œI just wanted to say-- would you look at me for a second?ā€
I forced myself to comply.
ā€œI, uh, I wanted to thank you. For staying with me the other night.ā€ The sincerity in his eyes was a bit too much to bear at the moment.
I hadnā€™t done anything, and I told him as much.
ā€œYou didnā€™t have to. Just being there was more than enough.ā€
ā€œRight,ā€ I said hollowly. ā€œSo is that it?ā€
ā€œYeah.ā€ He seemed very lost. ā€œUm, are you okay?ā€
ā€œSure. Why wouldnā€™t I be?ā€
ā€œYouā€™re acting kind of strange.ā€
ā€œThatā€™s because there isnā€™t usually this much talking,ā€ I snapped.
I longed to smooth out the lines on his face and make him feel at ease again. This was supposed to be the good, uncomplicated thing. He was apparently making an effort. I could return the favour.
ā€œIā€™m sorry,ā€ I said, letting out a deep breath and rubbing a hand over my face. ā€œCan I get you something to drink? We can talk about it if you want. Or just hang out.ā€ I tried to squash down the hope that bloomed in my chest.
ā€œOh. Sure, if thatā€™s okay.ā€ He was chewing on his lip again, and it was unfairly appealing.
And so he stayed. I got two mugs of coffee, and when I came back, he was on my couch reading a well-worn paperback, as if he belonged there. I had to agree with the thought. When he heard me enter the room, he looked up with a smile.
When he left three hours later, I couldnā€™t remember what weā€™d talked about or the name of the book heā€™d abandoned within minutes, but I remembered the way heā€™d leaned close to me while gesturing wildly with his hands, and I remembered that we hadnā€™t touched beyond accidental brushes of our fingers the entire time.
He still hadnā€™t revealed the source of his despair, and I knew there was someone he loved. I knew whatever this was, it would be temporary.
But the smile on my face as I closed the door was real.
.
(v)
Spencer kept coming over. I was never given the chance to initiate contact because it seemed like he was always at my place. Whenever he was in the city, he would be with me. I started to worry about his apartment gathering cobwebs from the disuse. But I couldnā€™t honestly complain about this new development.
Sometimes we had sex, and sometimes we didnā€™t. Sometimes he came in sore and tired, other times he was brimming with excitement with a playful grin. Sometimes he was angry at the world and I was allowed to coax him down from his rage. Those nights were in turn infuriating and thrilling.
(ā€œWhat happened?ā€
ā€œWork.ā€
ā€œThatā€™s really helpful, Spencer, care to elucidate?ā€
ā€œNo.ā€
ā€œOkay, caveman.ā€
ā€œShut up and take off your clothes.ā€
Iā€™d rolled my eyes and complied.)
I enjoyed every bit of him. I wanted to observe and chart every one of his moods and his little quirks. I loved the small pile of his books that had found their way onto the coffee table. I loved introducing him to pop culture that he approached with the same diligence as he would a textbook of quantum physics. He was an eager student, and I attempted to return the favour whenever he launched into his obscure tirades.
Some nights I would drowsily let him in and he would crawl into bed with me, fully clothed. The following mornings, I would wake up with a silly grin on my face, seeing him utterly relaxed and at peace. Weā€™d have breakfast in my kitchen and slowly come awake together over our steaming mugs of coffee.
It was fun, learning him.
In the dead of night, as I was drifting off to sleep, he would tell me bits and pieces of horrible things heā€™d had to see. All I could offer him then was a tight, protective embrace and a steady gaze as the words clawed their way out of his reluctant throat. It felt like he was giving me some sort of twisted boon, these revelations of his pain. I collected them just as carefully as I did everything else. If it was a part of him that was freely given, I knew I wanted it.
At intervals, I would have to remind myself that he wasnā€™t truly emotionally available. It wasnā€™t hard. I only had to picture JJā€™s relieved smile and the raw uncloaked expression on his face that I had never seen again. He mentioned her every now and then, and Iā€™d discovered that his godson was her child. He never seemed upset, talking about her family, but he wasnā€™t the kind of man who would resent anotherā€™s happiness, even if it was at the expense of his own. I knew that now. I still remembered the way he would pull away from me and flinch at my touch, and I knew I was playing a losing game. There was no way out of this where I didnā€™t get hurt. All I could do was try to control it.
Three months after that night outside our building, I knew Iā€™d fallen for him.
I was in trouble and I needed to do something about it, quickly. So I stopped preemptively cancelling plans with my friends and coworkers. I joined a book club. I called in a guy to loudly fix my bathroom sink the day I knew Spencer would be getting home. I even got a gym membership. I tried to be away from home as much as I could.
Whenever Spencer texted me, I would let him know I was unavailable. His texts got progressively more frustrated. Watching the excitement on his face dim when I turned him away at my door was painful. But it was necessary. I convinced myself that when Spencer and I stopped existing in this vacuum without other people, my feelings would weaken and I would be able to get him out of my head.
It didnā€™t work, of course, and I spent every day missing him. I tried to distract myself with work and my suddenly-full schedule, but the feelings were still there. Try as I might, I couldnā€™t stop thinking of him every morning and every night, and every time I passed his door and every time I walked by a bookstore.
So when Neil from work asked me out a week later, I said yes.
I wore a nice dress and heels, and he picked me up. We went to a midscale restaurant and talked about boring first-date things, and I knew within the first fifteen minutes that I didnā€™t want to see him again. I went through the motions, smiled pleasantly at him, and told him I would take a cab home. When I walked dejectedly up to my apartment, it took me a second to realise what I was looking at. My heart leapt and I dropped my keys.
Spencer was sitting on the floor outside my door, and he looked tireder and older than Iā€™d ever seen him. He had looked up at my approach. I froze.
ā€œSpencer.ā€ I hadnā€™t seen him in a month.
He looked me up and down, and there was an unhappy tilt to his mouth. I wanted to kiss it away. He reached for the keys and rose to his feet.
ā€œHi.ā€ He held them out to me, and I wanted to laugh and the eerie reflection of our first meeting.
ā€œHi,ā€ I echoed.
ā€œWere you on a date?ā€
There was no point in lying to him. ā€œYes.ā€
He looked away, his jaw clenching.
Silently, I unlocked the door and held it open. After a momentā€™s hesitation, he walked in.
He paced the floor of my living room. I took off my shoes and put my keys on the table, waiting for him to speak. I felt out of sorts and unprepared for what was to come. Even when I heard him come to a halt, I didnā€™t lift my gaze to meet his.
ā€œWhy would you-- I thought we had something.ā€ His tone was heavy with accusation.
I stared back at him in challenge. ā€œSure. We had something. But I didnā€™t want to fool myself into thinking it was more than it was.ā€
ā€œWhat are you talking about?ā€
ā€œUs! You. You send me all these mixed signals, and I know youā€™re still hung up on someone else but I let myself get in too deep anyway. I had to protect myself.ā€
ā€œIā€™m not hung up on someone else,ā€ he shouted, raising his hands in frustration.
ā€œOf course you are!ā€ I matched his volume. ā€œYou told me so yourself.ā€
ā€œWhen did I do that?ā€ He sounded honestly bewildered.
ā€œA few months ago. You said you were in love with someone but she didnā€™t love you back. And then I saw you with JJ that day. I know itā€™s her. Itā€™s okay. You didnā€™t promise me anything.ā€
Feeling drained, I wrapped my hands around my middle. The tears were threatening to fall, but I tried to hold them at bay. This would be over soon. It all would.
ā€œJJ--ā€ he barked out a laugh, surprising me.
ā€œWhat about this situation is funny to you?ā€ I demanded.
ā€œNo, listen--ā€
ā€œYouā€™re hot and youā€™re cold. You kick me out right after our first time and then youā€™re sweet the next day. How do you want me to feel about that?ā€
ā€œIā€™m sorry about-ā€
ā€œTrying to talk to you is impossible! I want to help you. But you clearly donā€™t want to talk to me!ā€
ā€œThatā€™s not--ā€
ā€œAnd then youā€™re over here all the time, and I get that itā€™s because you want to distract yourself, but you have to know how it would con--ā€
ā€œGod, would you just shut up and listen to me for once?ā€
I glared up at him. He was undeterred, a strange glint in his eyes.
ā€œI love you,ā€ he informed me, striking me dumb. ā€œIt took me a while to realise it, but itā€™s true. I love you.ā€
All I could do was gape at him as he walked closer to me and took my tightly clenched fists in his hands. ā€œIā€™m sorry if I made you feel like I was holding back. Iā€™m trying to be better. And I donā€™t know what you thought you saw between me and JJ,ā€ he said very slowly, stroking his thumbs gently over my palms, ā€œbut all thatā€™s there is a lot of trauma and shared experiences. Yes, I thought I loved her once, but that was a long time ago. Weā€™ve never-- sheā€™s not you.ā€
Traitorously, that tendril of hope began to coil around my heart again as I searched his face, looking for a trace of a lie.
I found none.
I surged forward, crashing my lips to his with no finesse and too much force, but he was ready for me, releasing my hands and cradling my waist instead. I gripped his hair, letting the tears spill at last, an overjoyed laugh bubbling out of my throat and into his mouth. I let my hands roam the hard plane of his body, the delicious ripple of wiry muscle beneath his shirt, the hidden softness that only I could feel.
ā€œI love you,ā€ I told him when we broke apart for air. ā€œIā€™m glad I can tell you, I love you, I fucking love you.ā€ Spencer grinned down at me, and the look was so fond I had to kiss him again.
The rest was a blur of hastily discarded clothes and the steadfastly ignored pain of knocking into furniture before we finally found my bed and tumbled into it.
(ā€œAll this time, I could have had you,ā€ I groaned into his ear while he thrust his fingers into me, mouthing along my jaw.
ā€œYou have me,ā€ he promised into my skin an eternity later, when he was inside me and my nails were scrambling for purchase along his back, my vision going white.)
That night, there were no painful confessions or taunting insecurities. There were just the two of us, blissfully entwined together, and the deepest of dreamless sleeps. Somewhere in the middle of falling out and falling back together, we had found our new rhythm.
.fin.
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sil3ntfr34k Ā· 9 months ago
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Postal 4 boyfriend Headcanons
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(Guess who found about how to do a buillted list insides of manually putting dots :D)
Mans is probably in his early 40ā€™s and feeling every second of it.
Heā€™s not much a romantic, but he knows how to love. Like he knows heā€™s supposed to give you gifts, listen to you rant, support you in anything, hug you, give affection and words of encouragement, the whole sha-bang. Is he good at it tho? Kinda,,,
You probably met him during his ā€˜job huntingā€™, when he was running around this a sign that said something along the lines of ā€œWilling to do something strange for a bit of changeā€. Caught your attention IMMEDIATELY
You thought he wasnā€™t too bad looking, something of a roughed up silver fox. He was pretty toned for someone his age, forearms are pretty big and thatā€™s just what you needed. You ended up taking him up on his offer and made him clean out your gutters. You just sat there and watched as he worked himself throwing out heaps of wet leaves and random junk from your gutters.
He came out obvious dirty so you gifted him $40 and a shower. Itā€™s like heavens light shined upon him when he heard the words ā€œYou can take a shower here if youā€™d like?ā€ fall from your mouth was enough for him to marry you in that moment.
Postal Dude has been raw dogging it homeless style for a couple months up to this point, so any kind of reward he came across was a fortune to him. Gladly accepting this kind gesture, he was still thrown out for the rest of the day. You both came upon an agreement that he could stay the nights on your couch, but he still had to go ā€˜job huntingā€™ during the days. Didnā€™t matter to him, he still accepted it. As long as he had a safe place to sleep with Champ.
Side note, you loathe Champ being around during the day since he digs holes everywhere in your front AND back yard, so you make Dude take Champ with him everyday. Dude doesn't mind since Champ is kinda like an attack dog so homie very useful when Dude's walking around
Once your relationship with Dude has reached it's peak (dating), he becomes very attentive and energetic. Where he was once tired and reclused, he's now got some energy in him and filled with affection
Dude loves to be around you and touching you. Biggest love languages are quality time and physical touch, sometimes words of affirmation if he's feeling extra sappy. He's probably been through the works of brutal relationships, so he really wants to settle down, which leads me to my next thought
Mans is getting old and creaky. Sure he's still got muscle and all, but they're honestly just for show. He couldn't hold back Champ from attacking someone he isn't supposed to even if his life depended on it. So, he's staring to wear down and just wants to find someone to relax with.
Red flag time, he's talking about marriage about 2 months into the relationship and tries to move his scrap in without you noticing, which usually fails. It's not that he's using you for your home, Dude just wants to feel like he's finally in a normal relationship. No bitchy attitudes being thrown around, no constant nagging for something stupid, no arguing over small things, no constant threats, just yā€™all being in love together
Eventually your gonna have to let Champ wonder the house and train him to be a guard dog rather than just an attack dog. Youā€™re definitely the one to look up dog training classes and making Dude go with you to these said classes.
Even with how much he loves to be around you, there are still times when his mental and physical illnesses make him ill šŸ˜” but he still tries to snap out of it
His main problems are most likely his chronic muscle pains and his auditory schizophrenia. (I think all the dudes are some sort of schizo, itā€™s just that p1 and p2 are the strongest showing ones)
Being older means his body is slowly deteriorating. Sure heā€™s not that old, but with how he lived in his golden age, he should really be dead. Constantly on the run from the government, having to stay sharp to kill, and fucking his way through Paradise and Edensin, heā€™s ready to just lay down and let the earth reclaim him
Having a long history of schizophrenia in the family and his own lifetime, itā€™s thankfully dwindled down to just hearing voices randomly. Since he can only hear these voices it doesnā€™t scare him as bad as it used to. All he can really hear is a distant conversation that he canā€™t make out the words to, itā€™s sort of like a mumbling between a woman and a man. Many times youā€™ve found him franticly wondering the house with a confused look on his face saying ā€œI thought there was people in here?ā€
Overall, heā€™s an old man whoā€™s been through enough and would just like to relax. Give him kisses, give him cuddles, feed him, and talk to him, and heā€™ll love you for eternity (so gay)
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sil3ntfr34k Ā· 4 months ago
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iā€™m begging you..please can we have yandere p1 hcs? <33
(mmmmm P1.... Guuhhhh,,, Anyway I dont think he'd be a full yandere so im gonna try my best)
Postal 1 Yandere Headcanons
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Honestly if you got this guy top even care about you, that's already a miracle. He's almost never outside in the pubic eye so he probably thought you were stalking him at first, which is now switched bc be stalks you now!!
At first he thought you were some kind of humanoid parasite since he couldn't stop thinking of you. Of course you're not in there all the time, but you started to stay longer than anyone else has. His mind is always so jumbled with thoughts of self harm and others harm that just the thought of you was sort of like a beacon
It started out with him asking you to come to his house more often since it was 'safer' as he says. Champ was there to guard the perimeter and he had all kinds of weapons. If anyone even tries breaking in, it would either be Champ or Dude's fault, but they wouldn't walk out alive. Just the thought of you being harmed or even killed was enough to send Dude into a short episode.
At some point he started to think of you as some sort of demigod. Not entirely angelic, but you weren't as evil as everyone else. You brought out his kindness again, and he wanted to keep you around for that. He knows he can't keep you trapped with him (even though he tries sometimes,,,), but he starts to break down slowly once you leave him alone again.
Desperately tries to not seem annoying or clingy, but he just can't help it. It's been so long since someone has made him feel anything other than scared or nervous. Around you Dude feels normal, even sharing some of his morbid facts with you about the human body and mind. You're probably a little fucked in the head too so you guys match each others freak almost perfectly.
More on the stalking, Dude hates not knowing where you are or what you're doing. He worries so much, as soon as a small bad thought enters his head, it immediately turns to you somehow and now he's hyperventilating and spam calling you. If you can, he lets you take Champ with you sometimes, just so he knows you're safe.
Takes candid pictures of you without your permission and knowledge. He doesn't do anything weird with it, it's just so he can look at you whenever he wants. Follows you around from a far distance so he can catch you in your truest casual form.
During particular bad episodes, Dude spam calls you so he can hear your voice. You've become such a bright, warm, comforting light in his life, he thinks he needs you to be happy. As long as you're around him, Dude fully believes you can cure him. You can imagine his frustration when it doesn't work and he's not immediately okay again.
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sil3ntfr34k Ā· 9 months ago
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orr p1/p4 as platonic comforting thingā€¦
Platonic!P1 Dude and P4 Dude Comforting Headcanons
(Also matching gifs this is so cool)
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Postal 1 Dude
Heā€™s actually the worst person to comfort you. WILL make it worse
Even if your anxious about just going to the grocery store because you donā€™t feel like socializing, heā€™s trying to convince you that something bad is going to happen and now you can never go to store at all
ā€œI donā€™t feel like goingā€¦ā€ ā€œWhatdayamean?? Why donā€™t you want to go? You always wanna go somewhere, what if something is going to happen? Itā€™s waiting for its moment to strike you, to take you from this world. No! You canā€™t go anymore! Just stay here, itā€™s safest here than being out there with thoseā€¦ vermin.ā€
Somehow, heā€™s spiraling before you,,, He doesnā€™t even know what the hell is going on, yet heā€™s in the corner facing the wall and hugging his knees
If itā€™s really bad, like your having a trauma response kind of bad, heā€™s making it worse. You could be hyperventilating on the floor, shaking and all, and he will be there crying over your body like your actually dying
Sometimes it feels like he makes it about himself, but itā€™s just that his anxiety is that bad
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Postal 4 Dude
ā€œWhat the hell is wrong with youšŸ¤Øā‰ļøā€
Has no idea whatā€™s going on, ever
Has a mini heart attack when he sees you upset and immediately bombards you with questions. ā€œWhatā€™s wrong? What happened? Why are you upset? Was it that asshat down the street? Because he was fucking with me yesterday too. Iā€™ll kill him for you I swea-ā€œ
You gotta hit him with something soft to shut him up bc he will yap until you forget what the hell you were upset about
If itā€™s something like a trauma response or panic attack, Dude tries his best to be there but also be at a distance. He read one somewhere that itā€™s best to give someone whoā€™s having an attack space and to just ā€˜watchā€™ over them. It still kills him inside to see you like that, but he knows he canā€™t do much to help
If he can, Dude will make Champ go sit with you. Heā€™s seen service dogs do that before so in his head itā€™s a good idea. Until Champ is trying to play with you and is trying to knock you over,,,
Cue Dude dragging Champ back again by the collar, poor guy,,,
Afterwards, he will most definitely try to pry whatā€™s wrong out of you, even if itā€™s something personal. Itā€™s not that heā€™s trying to butt into your personal life or make you uncomfortable, heā€™s just concerned (and curious. What the hell couldā€™ve made you act out like that???)
Overall, heā€™s okay to go to for comfort, but definitely not the one you should be going to for that. Unless you wanna get incredibly high or drunk (or both) afterwards as a compensation
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sil3ntfr34k Ā· 9 months ago
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I cannot sleep and having postal brain rot šŸ«¶
Postal 1 Dude Boyfriend Headcanons
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ā€¢ Homie has been living alone with his borderline psychopathic thoughts since he was about 19, absolutely 0 social skills. But he kinda likes it like that, although itā€™s not good for him, but when has anyone ever liked whatā€™s good for them???
ā€¢ It was a miracle that you ever saw him to begin with. This man hasnā€™t left his run down home in 3 weeks and you just so happened to catch him at the grocery store buying ā€˜suppliesā€™ as he calls it. You had helped him find a certain canned item (he doesnā€™t eat a lot so he needs something that will last for a while) and also helped him at the check out.
ā€¢ Romantic love is a very foreign concept to him. As someone who doesnā€™t feel a lot of emotions other than fear and confusion, anything that makes him happy is something he so desperately wants to keep around. So meeting you was like a breath of relief
ā€¢ Itā€™s very hard for him to understand what heā€™s feeling, the constant mood swings donā€™t help either. One minute heā€™s spiraling downward, but when he thinks of you, heā€™s suddenly overwhelmed with this warm comforting feeling. For a while heā€™s convinced you mustā€™ve put a spell on him, before you finally visit his house
ā€¢ Champ, his baby boy, immediately takes a liking to you, his strong tail hitting against and knocking things over around him as he approaches you to give you sloppy kisses. Since Champ is sort of like a emotional support dog, Dude trust his judgement which ultimately leads him to be more comfortable around you
ā€¢ It takes a longgggg time before Dude even thinks about getting into a relationship with you. Heā€™s never felt this way about someone and it terrifies him. Being anti social and all makes him very skittish, so youā€™ll have to ease him into such a intimate relationship
ā€¢ As the relationship progresses, you really start to see why no one ever talks to him. Heā€™s weird. Like, he has a concerningly large dead animal collect, even feeding them to Champ if his food gets too low and Dude is too paranoid to leave the house. Dude also has a large weapons collection with some military grade stuff. Not to mention his expansive knowledge of the human body after death and the various ways to skin various animals (and humans, but he hasnā€™t told you that yet)
ā€¢ Since this whole relationship thing is new to Dude, he has no idea what to do or how to do it. He never plans dates, doesnā€™t give you any big gifts, and hardly ever says ā€œI love youā€. Although he does love to have you around and hold you when heā€™s comfortable enough with it.
ā€¢ The amount of illness this guy has baffles you. Itā€™s like heā€™s nothing but a sick mind and weak mindset. Good luck trying to give him any sort of medication, he will run away and lock himself in the bathroom with Champ. Fully believes that any sort of pill will make ā€˜corruptā€™ him, especially if itā€™s from a pharmacy.
ā€¢ Having to deal with this guy during any sort of episode is EXHAUSTING. Yes you love him, but everyone has their limits. His schizophrenic episodes are the worst of them. They usually force him into a paranoid and clouded state, his mood becoming fragile and his actions more aggressive. Usually during these episodes he believes that there are people out to hurt him, to kill him, so he has to kill them first. Itā€™s a doozy and a half trying to stabilize Dude, desperately trying to tell him heā€™s safe in a his home and getting Champ to sit with him.
ā€¢ Itā€™s very hard to get Dude outside of his house. His paranoia always gets the best of him and drives him right back inside the familiarity of his run down walls. Wanna go for a walk around the city to bond with him more? Good luck with that. Wanna go grocery shopping with him because heā€™s been living off the same can of peas for 3 days now? Heā€™d rather starve. Wanna go shopping for his wardrobe? He has enough clothes. Although you could probably lure him out with the promise of bone hunting with him in the local forest area.
ā€¢ There arenā€™t many dates with Dude. The entire relationship is mainly just you two relaxing on his couch watching tv. Of course yā€™all still do ā€˜funā€™ things like playing board games and helping him clean up around his house, but itā€™s mostly just sitting in peace with him. It may not seem like a lot to you, but to him itā€™s the most calm and relaxed heā€™s been in years
ā€¢ Dude doesnā€™t give many gifts, but he likes to give you little wooden figures heā€™s made. Living alone for years and having nothing but free time really gives you the ability to learn a new skill. He took up widdling and wood carving as a hobby to make hard chew toys for Champ since those rubber bones never lasted and the real bones were too expensive. Dude will give you little shiny rocks he found around the house too. Heā€™s kinda like a crow, shiny attractive
ā€¢ Trying to cuddle or hug Dude is a task. Due to his childhood, he thinks anytime someone is going to touch him itā€™s gonna hurt. Youā€™re gonna have to ask him, and then slowly reach out for him. Any sudden movements will make him nervous
ā€¢ Despite all these bad traits, heā€™s rather clingy and possessive of you. Sure he doesnā€™t want you to touch him a lot, but he still wants you around. Just having you in his house is like having his own personal angel. Anytime you want to leave he gets incredibly sad and starts to make up excuses of why you canā€™t leave. ā€œThe evil ones, theyā€™ll hurt you if you step foot out there! Stay here with me, where itā€™s safe.ā€œ
ok thatā€™s all I can think of I sleep now
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sil3ntfr34k Ā· 9 months ago
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***Minors dni this Adultā„¢ļø stuff***
Postal Dude 2 NSFW Headcanons
Postal Dude is very experienced with sex. Having traveled basically everywhere and living all kinds of lifeā€™s, heā€™s fucked all kinds of people
Definitely had gay sex at some point, just to try. Heā€™s been both top and bottom,,,
Dudeā€™s dick is probably a little above average and he most definitely lets this get to his head.
When soft heā€™s like 3 inches, and it looks kinda cute (donā€™t tell him that), but when heā€™s hard he can grow up to 6 1/2 inches. Fully believes he could be a pornstar with that
His dick is about 2 shades darker than his body but at least itā€™s pretty! It stands up tall and has a good shape, veins popping out slightly when heā€™s about to cum
He can last pretty long before he cums, a strong 20 minutesšŸ’Ŗ also his cum is yellow. Nothings wrong with him or anything, itā€™s just yellow for some reason.
Sadly, he is not a cum fountainā€¦ He could fill up about half a shot glass, but thatā€™s it :((
Dudeā€™s current mood entirely depends on how you will be fucked. Heā€™s angry? Youā€™re not walking tomorrow. Heā€™s sleepy? Heā€™s actually gentle! Heā€™s high? Itā€™s about to get reaallll passionate in here.
The first time you guys had sex he had to constantly remind you to relax. ā€œListen babe, you gotta relax down here if you donā€™t want it to hurt.ā€ all while he uses his fingers to get you used to the feeling
For pussy havers, he likes to slide his fingers up and down your vagina, playing with your clit a little to get you nice and wet
For dick havers, he focuses mainly on your tip, dragging his fingers over the slit and jerking it ever so slightly before dipping down and fingering your hole
For both, he will be sucking on your nipples. Has an oral fixation and enjoys having anything in his mouth, pussy or dick, as long as he can lick and suck it.
Dudeā€™s thrusts are pretty hard and consistent at least, almost fully taking out his dick before slamming it back in. Probably likes to hear the wet sound and slapping, makes him feel like heā€™s doing a good job
Makes little noise other than the occasional grunt and groan. Born to cry during sex, forced to shut the fuck up; unless you tell him you like his noises. He will be all up in your ear sounding like that turtle (you know which one)
Iā€™ll add more if I can think of any :p
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sil3ntfr34k Ā· 8 months ago
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ReaderxP3 if you write for him? Sfw or nsfw, both rule.
(Iā€™m gonna assume that the last person also wanted me to change this one into p4 too soooo-)
(Also I had this planned eventually so this just reminded me ehehe)
ā€¼ļøMinors DNI itā€™s Adultā„¢ļø timeā€¼ļø
Postal 4 Dude NSFW headcanons
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Heā€™s old and sloppy you canā€™t change this. Heā€™s been wearing the same old outfit for months straight, donā€™t expect TOO much from him
Luckily for his showcase ā€˜musclesā€™, he looks pretty good when heā€™s naked. Toned body with an ever so slight beer belly, but it somehow adds to his whole aesthetic
I imagine his dick is pretty average. About 5 inches when heā€™s hard, 3 when heā€™s soft and an average amount of girth. His balls are pretty big tho so at least heā€™s got that goin for him
Pretty good prep tbh. For fem aligned folk heā€™s kinda gentle and soft, letting his hands slowly run up and down your body before he keeps one behind your head to make his kiss more passionate
While for more masc aligned folk heā€™s a bit more rough, probably pulling you in with hard hands on your hips and pulling your hair back to get a better look at your face. Being around more manly people makes him feel manlier too, so heā€™s thinks heā€™s gotta act tough and all
Loves passionate sex. The heavy breathing, the grunting, the slaps of skin, the sweet dirty talk, he LIVES for it. If you keep kissing him during sex, heā€™ll cum gallons
Probably hates to pull out. Dude so desperately wants to feel you around him like this all the time, so much so he throws a little hissy fit when you make him pull out. Dude isnā€™t very smart when it comes to his own greater good, so for all you womb havers, you better make sure to pull him out yourself before he cums
Dude has an oral fixation as well (most dudes do). All you have to do is take off your panties/boxers and spread your legs for him to instantly dive between them and start licking/sucking. He doesnā€™t like to swallow tho, canā€™t stand the taste of cum smh
His favorite position is probably the mating press. Thereā€™s nothing Dude loves more than plowing into you as hard as he can so he can hear you moan. Not only does he get to fuck you mercilessly in this position, he also gets to see your face the entire time. (Yes he does try to make you cry sometimes)
Please wake Dude up with a blowjob, he will do anything for you for the rest of the day. Blowjobs in general are easily one of Dudes favorite jobs to have. Definitely jokes about it too. ā€œDude, Iā€™m hungryyyyy what do we have to eat?ā€ ā€œYou can eat my dic-ā€œ
Enjoys light BDSM. Spanking, slapping, and light bondage gets him goin good. Also blindfolds, adds to the excitement
Makes a lot of noise, on purpose. Dude knows you like his noises, at least heā€™s convinced himself you do, so he will not stop the constant groaning and grunting.
The way he lets you know heā€™s horny is by being extra loving. Hugs you from behind, kisses your neck, has his hands placed firmly on your hips and is slightly grinding into your ass, grunting
(Thatā€™s all I can think of rn idk Iā€™m tired and outside pls give me my blanket)
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sil3ntfr34k Ā· 4 months ago
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You said something about how heated the argument get with postal 2 dude like I just want to know how would he react if partner hold grudges on him and if it not to much to ask can I know more his flaws
(Guess who got jealous and came back ahahahā€¦)
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Postal 2 Dude and his flaws
During an heated argument he is screaming and throwing shit at you. His mind gets so clouded with anger he doesnā€™t even realize he could kill you if what he threw made contact with your head
If your still with him after an argument like that, he could sort of understand whyā€™d you hold a grudge against him, but he will still think itā€™s petty, simply because your mad at him and not the other way around.
If you've annoyed him or upset him enough, he'll pull a gun on either you or himself. It's just a scare tactic to get you to shut up and leave him alone, but you know how upset he gets and how trigger happy he can be. It's hard to not freeze up and just do what he wants
Definitely has double sided loveā€¦
Also, heā€™s a cheater!! Heā€™s good at hiding it to. Unless youā€™re following him around all day, then youā€™d basically never know. Youā€™re his favorite, but heā€™s not gonna let you stop him from trying to fuck that sexy minx he saw walking down the street earlier.
For my ladies, he expects you to be basically a traditional picture perfect wife with a few exceptions. He can handle some tude' and all, but fully expects you to submit to him once he 'puts his foot down' or whatever he think's he's doing. If you don't, there's a chance he might slap you
He TRIES to not be physically abusive, just for the sake of respect for each other, but he has not yet learned to control his rage. When you bother him and won't stop poking or teasing at him, all he can think of is how quiet the trailer would be when you're passed out with a black eye and a bloody mouth.
Raises his hand to slap you but stops at the last second...
ALSOOO for the guys, he's a lot more rough with you. Not hitting or anything, but he'll actually shove you off him and scream at you to go away. Doesn't see you as dainty and fragile, so its okay to be a complete dickhead!!
nsfw mention under cut)
Hardly ever takes you on dates or shows affection. You'd be lucky to get him to cuddle with you for more than 5 minutes. Yet as soon as he gets horny, you better give out or else he's ignoring you until tomorrow
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sil3ntfr34k Ā· 9 months ago
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Postal Dude really be taking over my brain someone save me
Smoking with Postal Dude Headcanons
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ā€¢ You probably donā€™t smoke crack like he does, but you dabble (or are heavily into) marijuana!
ā€¢ Itā€™s definitely not as strong as crack like Dude is used to, but you bet ur ass heā€™s smoking that joint with you
ā€¢ Where as you can smoke maybe 2, MAYBE 3, joints in a single session, Postal Dude is slamming 4 and then smoking 2 more just to feel something
ā€¢ He probably doesnā€™t like to pass it around, prefers his own. ā€˜OhHhH bUt WhAt AbOuT tHe CoSt Of WeEdā€™, relax, Dude just killed the local dealers in town and has their whole stash that should last at LEAST a month with the way all smoke
ā€¢ Sessions with Dude are actually pretty chill if you arenā€™t a paranoid high. He likes to talk a lot when heā€™s high, so be prepared to know a lot about his favorite weapon and how he started to get into killing people
ā€¢ If you ever want to know something about Dude without him deflecting, get him high. This man will shoot off at the mouth and answer whatever you ask with no hesitation.
ā€¢ Cue Postal Dude whippin out that snuff movie with the quickness of a pistol shrimp and slappin it in the dvd slot of the tv. He used to watch this kinda stuff along with gore religiously growing up, so itā€™s sort of like a comfort for him. He probably gets annoyed if you want to watch something else, most definitely called you a ā€˜sissy lala wuss puss bitchā€™. Heā€™s very colorful with his curses,,,
ā€¢ Even with how much he smokes, he knows how much he can take to NOT get paranoid. Last time Dude got paranoid while high, there was a genocide at the police station. If he ever does get paranoid while high with you, you gotta not freak the fuck out with him and try to get you BOTH in bed to nap it off
ā€¢ Munchies be hittin him hard. (Actually thinking about it now, he probably has to smoke to eat or else he wonā€™t be hungry all day) Itā€™s very easy to convince him to run out to the local Chinese place for some orange chicken and shrimp fried rice. Best part is is that he will go alone if you donā€™t wanna leave. His wife (or ex wife depending on what u want) made him run errands alone all the time so he really doesnā€™t mind
ā€¢ Absolutely FUCKS UP that entire styrofoam box. Like the whole thing is ripped around and the fork is somehow stabbed through the top, bits of rice scattered around the crime scene.
ā€¢ If heā€™s still hungry he will not hesitate to go back again, just tell him if you want some more too and heā€™ll ride off into the sunset for that delicious Chinese food
ā€¢ Sleepy after he comes back down. He drags himself to the bed and just knocks tf out. Easily stays down for like 5 hours straight and wakes up forgetting what planet heā€™s on
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