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napsfork-brainrot · 1 year

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Postal 1 Dude x Reader: Meeting

A/N: This is a mini-fic of how you (yes, you!) meet the deranged, yet somewhat of a softie, Dude. Enjoy this silly little idea!

Paradise... What a joke name for this town.

It's as if the town was only given this name just for a sick joke, a spit in the face, to those that were unfortunate enough to live here. The only reason you had decided to even set foot in this town is because it had low rent prices for housing, and it was the only thing you could afford without having to "make ends meet", so to say.

The town of Paradise, Arizona is home to many people. Unfortunately, most of these people are criminals, violent drug addicts, and genuinely hateful people. Sure, you weren't a saint yourself, but you tried to not go out of your way to cause harm to others, even if you felt that they may deserve it. However, with your minimum-wage job at the coffee shop and the numerous rude customers coming into your work just to give you grief... you could swear that you were losing your patience and felt thin layers of your sanity being cut away from your brain.

After a long day of work, you walk away from the coffee shop, carrying your stuff in your arms. All you want is to go home, take a shower, and go to bed. It's the same thing you do every day, anyways.

Go home. Take a shower. Go to bed. Wake up. Go to work.

Repeat. Forever.

Even though you want to go home and just relax, you can't help but feel that you need something new in your life, something that can help you get out of this endless spiral of repetition and silent despair...

You were losing yourself in your thoughts, not paying attention to anything as you walk down the sidewalk. As you pondered how to get out of your emotional rut before you became too depressed, you suddenly collided with someone!

"Ah..!"

You yelped out, stumbling a bit as you caught yourself. The person you collided with stopped and turned his head around, looking at you with a blank look on his face. You looked back at him as you stood up straight, putting a hand on the back of your neck as you started to apologize.

"H-Hey, sorry, man. I didn't mean to bump into ya."

You said, giving him an awkward smile, hoping that he wasn't too angry or annoyed with you. However, the reaction you got was something very, VERY, different from what you were expecting.

The man turned around to fully face you, and you could tell that he was... definitely different. Long ginger hair, a ginger goatee, a pair of black shades over his eyes, and a black trenchcoat over his shoulders. He gave you a small smile and he shook his head, speaking rather quietly. He seemed to be rather shy, giving you a small chuckle before he spoke.

"Oh..! Aha... N-No, sorry, it's... I should have paid attention. You're fine..."

The man said with a shy smile. He held his gloved hand out towards you, introducing himself.

"The name's Dude. ...Well, it's what people call me, anyways. ...Don't think I've seen you around here before."

You felt a small smile come to your face as he spoke and you shook his hand. You gave him your name before pulling your hand away, continuing to look at him with a comforting grin.

"Nice to meet you, Dude. Yeah, uh, I actually just moved here not too long ago... It was the only town that I could really afford rent in, so... Heheh... Ya know."

You said in a somewhat joking manner. Dude seemed to find that funny as well, laughing along with you. The two of you stopped laughing and he nodded his head, running a hand through his hair as he continued to smile.

"Haha! Hey, I don't blame ya... Hey... If you need anything, and anything at all..."

Dude said, his voice turning into a slightly more serious tone. He turned and pointed at a dirt driveway off to the side of the road.

"...My house is just down that dirt road. You can come on over if you ever need anything... Or, anyone, really."

He seemed to have genuine care for you, even if you two had only just met. Dude continued to speak, empathizing with you about living in this town.

"People here are... weird, I know that. So, meeting someone like you is... kind of a breath of fresh air, you know? ...Sorry, I must be sounding all soft right now. But, I mean it. You come over if anything happens... Got it?"

Dude said, putting one of his hands on your shoulder as he gave you another smile.

You were hesitant for a moment, a bit bewildered by his trust and protectiveness for you. But you knew that he meant it. He was different, just like you.

"...Okay, Dude. I will."

#postal #postal dude x reader #postal dude #postal 1 #postal 1 dude #postal fanfic #postal fanfiction

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strawbrygashez · 1 year

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Postal OC (Beachtime Dude) x Postal 2 Dude

The worst

Hiiii :) I made a postal oc a while back called Beachtime Dude but never made a fic with him until now! Like his name suggests he’s a beach themed Dude! He’s a stereotypical surfer Dude basically. The idea for him kinda came from just Ken from Barbie and doll swimsuit lines being called stuff like “Beachtime fun 🤪”. His nickname is Ken bc of that :D uhhhhHHH YEA I HOPE U ALL LIKE THIS 👍

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“Yknow, you’re probably the worst version of myself I’ve ever came across.” Dude said matter-of-factly from across the table as he took another scoop out of the ice cream the other Dude had bought for him. Yes the same one who he was currently bad mouthing. The blonde raised a eyebrow but didn’t look too fazed as he tossed the frisbee Champ and his own dog, Pal, had brought back to him. “Is that so? Would love to know why.” Was all he replied with as he watched Champ and his golden retriever kick up sand as they carelessly chased after the toy.

‘Would love to know why’ Dude repeated in his head with a scowl. There are so many reasons why he was the worst but they all pretty much equated to this version of Dude being too perfect. He was too sane to be a Postal Dude..and just too different in general. The man had blonde hair and a sculpted body for Christ sakes. He honestly looked sculpted by the Gods while most Postal Dudes Dude knew were ginger and on the skinny side or like in his own case, flabby. It pissed him off. Not to mention that the blonde, in the three days Dude had been stranded and stuck with him, hadn’t shown a single moment of his mask of sanity slipping. He hasn’t seen one instance of the other seeming pissed off by the world or pissed at himself. It just didn’t make sense. He wasn’t even annoying sly like the Postal Dude with the brown trench coat was. He was just some ‘ordinary’ Dude by the looks of it…it wasn’t fair and oh god did he hope there wasn’t more like him. He couldn’t take another version of himself that was basically a ‘what could have been’ being rubbed in his face.

Of course he didn’t need to really know that right now however. Dude just sighed and watched the blonde for a moment longer. “Ken?” He asked. The blonde looked over and took his sunglasses off before he began to rub the lens against his the bottom of his tight shirt, probably to get the sand off or something. “Hm?”

“Do you really spend all your time just chilling at the beach? Like.. you aren’t always running around.. living the busy life?” Dude asked before again, taking another bite of his ice cream, trying to ignore the fact this other Dude had insanely mesmerizing light blue eyes (another thing he hated him for). “Mhm. Well- occasionally I help organize events for the beach or beaches near by.. or help bring awareness to keeping them clean by having people sign petitions. Other than that I mostly just take it easy.. and get up to things I wanna get up to.” Ken explained as he continued to rub away at his sunglasses and once he was happy with them, he slid them back on.

Dude felt like if he scowled anymore at the other he’d get stuck that way. Really? This guy was one of those ‘keep the earth green’ hippie guys too? He was more like a young Unlce Dave if anything else. Ok not that Dude was against the message but y’know…again he wasn’t like any other Postal Dude he’d met.. he seemed like too much of a goodie two shoes. Dude decided to yet again basically repeat himself from earlier “You suck.” Ken rolled his eyes with a grin before taking the spoon Dude was using from his hand and taking his own scoop of Dudes frozen treat. “For what? Caring about something important? I’m so sor-”

“Has anything shitty happened to you before? Ever?” Dude blurted out without really thinking about it.. and by Kens expression, he could tell that he was maybe catching on to Dudes jealousy.. or at least train of thoughts. Ken only looked at him a moment longer before bringing the spoon up to his mouth and yep, put it in his mouth even though it had just been in Dudes. “Yeah? I guess… Had a bit of a uh..traumatic at home life with my parents. But I don’t exactly wanna get into it.” Oh.. well Dude of course wasn’t going to celebrate that but at least Ken seemed a little more relatable with this now known fact. “Oh… sorry.” was all Dude offered in return.

They sat in silence for a bit in the sunset as Ken took a couple more bites. The silence had been alright for them both for awhile but Dude could tell there was something on Kens mind. It only just now occurred to him that maybe just randomly asking someone you didn’t exactly have the closest bond to yet about their possible troubled past wasnt the best idea. He was about to try to get some sort of apology out until Ken held up a finger as though he was about to speak before he swallowed his spoonful of ice cream.

“If you don’t have the best uh.. mental health or if you wanna change your mind set, have you tried exercising? It-” Dude interrupted Kens thoughts with a scoff before propping his elbow on the bench table and resting the side of his head on his hand. “What’s next? You’re gonna sell me crystals?” Dude joked with a roll of his eyes. Everyone always said the same thing when it comes to this kinda shit. Do people think it’s honestly that easy t- “if you’d let me finish…” Ken continued, now interrupting Dudes thoughts “I was going to say, I know it’s not for everyone but it helped me. I don’t even think of surfing and swimming as exercise half the time. It’s more of a hobby. I was going to say you could try finding a hobby too asshole…” he said with a tease as he just twirled the spoon a bit in his hands, still watching Dude in front of him, even ignoring when the dogs came back with the frisbee and dropped it by his feet.

“Don’t have time for ‘em. It’s always something or another going on with me. I haven’t quite figured out the way to be a beach bum and relax all day in a little travel camper thing like you yet so..” Dude trailed off with a grin. Ken ignored the ‘bum’ part for now as he sighed and looked over to the ocean to the left of him. The waves had calmed down quite a bit and not many people were still hanging around.. not many people stayed very late on weekdays anyways. The few people who were still on the beach were just relaxing near the shore line while others were swimming in the water.. and that’s when Ken got a idea.

He turned back to Dude and was suddenly grinning but before Dude could say anything, Ken took another scoop and held it up to Dudes mouth. “Here. Hurry up ‘busy boy’. I got a idea”

Dude felt his cheeks heat up a bit at the nickname as he roughly pulled the plastic spoon out of Kens hand and into his own, making the scoop of ice cream fall onto his own pants. “Whatever…I can feed myself you weirdo. Just give me a second.” Dude grumbled. Ken didn’t seem to mind though as he suddenly got up and tossed his own trash away in the nearby garbage can and made his way over to his little camper parked right on the sand not far away.

Dude watched with a frown as he quickly finished before tossing the empty cup out and catching up to the blonde who had opened the back doors of his camper and was rummaging in what looked like a pile of clothes for something or another. “What the hell are you doing?” Dude asked as he leaned against the back of the truck. Ken shuffled a couple things around a moment longer before he held up a pair of swimming trunks. “You said you didn’t have a swimsuit yesterday right? Well you’re going to try swimming now.”

It took a bit of convincing to make Dude actually try them on. Ken had to tell him that yes they were washed (even though he knew Dude really wasn’t one to give a shit about wearing clean clothes), and also yes, they’d fit and he wouldn’t look stupid. There weren’t even many people around anyways even if he did. He obviously could tell that despite the tough, rugged persona Dude put on he was pretty easily embarrassed and self conscious.. but it wasn’t anything some positive reinforcement and praise couldn’t fix. And eventually, Dude did emerge from a nearby changing stall in the ‘stupid’ trunks Ken had picked out that were just black with flames on them.

“Here. Happy? I hope you don’t expect me to go very deep by the w-”

“See!?” Ken cut him off. “Look at you! You look fine! You can even keep those if you want. I barely wear them anyways. I get so many from companies and brands that I don’t even wear the same ones more than once anymore.. anyways cmon, let’s go.” Ken said with a grin before taking Dudes wrist before Dude could go on just standing there, complaining further. Dude followed him though confused as he did so. “Companies send you shit? Why?” He asked. Ken however didn’t answer and instead slipped his hand into Dudes as they approached the shore line. Dude felt his face get a little warm again but didn’t really make move to take his hand away..he just didn’t hold Kens hand back.

“Ok. So..there isn’t anything to be afraid of okay? I don’t know what horror movies you’ve seen but it’s really not that dangerous until you swim wayyyy out.. wait do you even know how to swim?” Ken asked. Now Dude took his hand out of Kens grasp. Of course he knew how to swim. He was 26. He wasnt a child… Dude huffed. “I’m not stupid Ken. Just shut up already would ya?” He asked as he finally took a couple steps in. He was fine. The only thing bothering him was he was pretty sure he already stepped on a sea shell but it didn’t matter. Ken watched him with a grin before shrugging. “Whatever man. I’m still making you actually swim a bit.”

And the whole thing.. turned out less annoying than Dude thought it would. The water felt really refreshing against Dudes already ‘old’ and warn our body.. especially when Ken wasnt making actually swim out some (with his help.. Dude had gotten a little rusty and forgot how to really swim so some help was needed. Which Ken actually kindly gave) and allowed him to relax. The time together actually made Dude a lot less pissy with him earlier as they shared some laughs, stupid life stories, and some nice moments together. They barely had noticed when the sky had gotten darker until the last other person on the beach had gotten out to get dried off some.

At least Dude had watched that person leave anyways. Ken was being stupid and was under the water for some reason or another until he popped up beside Dude and flipped his wet hair back out his face and grinned. Dude wouldn’t admit it but.. damn did Ken look nice with his hair all messy with that stupid grin. “Necklace.” He randomly said. “Huh?” Ken lifted a arm out of the water and presented some necklace he definitely hadn’t had on earlier. This one had a nice, pretty sliver butterfly charm on it “Someone lost it I guess. It’s mine now.” He grinned as he moved to put it on Dude, only rolling his eyes and chuckling as Dude swam back away from him a bit at the action.

“If it’s yours why the hell are you putting it on me?!” Dude asked as he went to grab a hold of it. “Because? I wanna. Chill out. If it’s mine I can give it to whoever I want.” Ken replied with a shrug, still grinning. Dude was quiet a minute before letting go and leaving it on. “Hm.. I guess you are a little bit of shitty person then. Stealing some poor girls necklace to give to a guy you barely know.” Dude finally grinned back. “Eh, if someone loses something while swimming here they rarely have hope they’ll be able to find it again. I’ve seen like maybe.. one or two people try though and I actually helped them thank you very much.. and it’s not like I pawn the stuff I find off anyways.”

“Oh so you give them to whoever lucky girl.. or uh guy.. I guess.. you’re with for the day?” Dude teased, now slicking his own messy wet hair back too. Ken smirked and moved a bit closer to him. “Mm.. nah. I might give some away but I actually use most accessories I find in my photos online! Well the ones someone can’t be like .. totally sure it’s theirs anyways.” Ken explained. “Ah.. you post a lot of pictures online? What? You got a ‘onlysurfers’ or something?”

Ken chuckled and shook his head. “Nah. Remember how I told you I get people sending me things? I got a good social media following.. I guess you can kinda say I’m a model. It’s usually like beach life brands sending me shit. I get paid to promote their crap.” Ken explained before he glanced over to their two pups who were now just laying about on the sand. “Ugh… you’re a social media influencer? I think me and Champ are going to have to leave you soon now.” Dude teased, shoving him playfully. Truth be told, it really didn’t surprise him that Ken was a bit of a model though. Hell, if he looked like him he probably would post pictures everywhere of himself too. “Aww don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.” Ken joked as he looked back to Dude. Okay now he really was sounding like that one other ‘Postal Dude’ with the brown jacket.. maybe he was a more sane version of that specific Dude.. though he honestly didn’t give a shit about thinking about all that anymore at the moment.

They swam for a bit more, just talking until something felt.. really wrong and painful. Dudes face twisted into a pained look as he hissed and lunged forward onto Ken since the pain was in his foot and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep himself up right with the painful muscle spasms. “AGH! Shit!” Dude cursed only just now realizing he’d thrown himself against Ken when Kens arms wrapped around him.. oh god. “Are you alright?” Ken asked in concern as Dude still gripped on. “Ah- sorry yeah. Got a fucking cramp from all this swimming though. Didn’t mean to grab you though let me just-..” Dude tried to shimmy away to maybe swim back to shore himself as quickly as he could but it seemed like Ken had other plans as he held onto him as he started swimming back to shore.. Dude was pretty sure he’d never been more embarrassed in his life. This shit was something out of some girls diary where she wrote about some blonde hot life guard man coming in and saving her. Dude couldn’t help but to groan and cover his face once Ken got out of the water but still held onto him, now bridal style. Ken only grinned though as he happily walked Dude over to his camper. “Poor thing.. see this is why you need to keep swimming! You can build up your tolerance and-”

“Or I could just not go swimming in the first place” Dude spat glaring at him but for some reason.. still not telling him to put him down. “Pfft. But where’s the fun in that?”

Eventually Ken had gotten both dogs back in the camper and shut the doors as he had Dude sit on the bed as he digged for some kinda medicine to help Dude with his pain. Dude hated how bright it was in his little camper but it was somehow better than his own trailer home.. even though it was much smaller. It was nicely decorated and not cluttered somehow and he’d somehow managed to fit a sofa in there which is what Dude had slept on the past two nights.. hell there was even a little spot inside the camper for Kens dog. How he managed it, he didn’t know.

“Sorry you’re feeling bad.. I shoulda realized you probably couldn’t swim as long as I can.” Ken said as he finally found the medication he was looking for and grabbed a water bottle before handing both to Dude. Dude shrugged and took the meds before speaking. “Not the worst pain I’ve been in. At least I had a idea that it was coming…”

Ken wasn’t exactly sure what Dude meant by that but as he looked over his body… he could probably piece it together. The other man had many odd shaped scars all over his body and with the way he was talking earlier, it wouldn’t surprise him if Dude really did get up to more.. dangerous things around town all day. It wasn’t a ugly look though, more interesting than anything else really. He’d have to ask about it eventually but as he looked up to Dude, he noticed he’d probably been checking his body out too long because his face had gone red.. it was so easy to see it too since he was your typical pale ginger. “W-what?” Dude asked, only now just remembering to turn and grab his shirt he’d left on the bed and toss it on.

Ken shook his head. “Nothing. Just.. you can take the bed tonight. I kinda accidentally pushed ya too hard. I’ll take the couch.” He said as he began to shut the blinds to some windows. It had gotten pretty late and Ken really seemed to have a much better sleep schedule down than Dude.. Dude watched for a bit, thinking to himself… The couch wasn’t terrible but, god would he be pissed if he had to let some basically ‘homeless’ guy take his bed while he slept on his couch.. that’s what Dude told himself his thought process was at least before he awkwardly coughed before speaking up.

“Uhm… you don’t- I wouldn’t mind…” Of course Dude couldn’t actually get what he wanted to say out, it was too fucking weird and embarrassing. He scratched the back of his head and looked away from Ken as he tried to think of how to continue. “Hmm?” Ken asked as he turned a light off. “Get on the damn bed.” Dude spat out awkwardly.

Ken rolled his eyes and just thought Dude was being hardheaded. So he tuned off one other light before grumbling a “fine.” And climbed onto the bed, thinking Dude would stand up but he never did. It was only when Ken laid down and Dude followed his action until he got what Dude wanted. “Oh…” He smirked, now flipping to lay on his side toward Dude. “If you wanted to cuddle you could have just asked” he teased. Dude grumbled before taking his sunglasses off and rubbing his eyes. “I can get up if you’re just going to be a ass.” Dude huffed. “No~ I’m sorry. You’re just trying to be nice. I know it’s hard for you.” Dude ignored that and just moved to actually get under the covers, which Ken did as well. Once they were both comfortable, Ken spoke up again. “Hey Dude?”

“Yea?”

“I get a.. little lonely at night. Can I hold you?” Ken asked barely holding in the laugh at the end though he was serious. Dude opened his eyes to give a mean glare at him. “Whatever. This is already gay enough as it is.”

“ I don’t know why you’re acting like it was my idea for this mr moody.” Ken said before snaking his arms around the other. Dude didn’t dignify that with a response.. well more like he didn’t know how to respond to that. He was just so tired and it did feel nice to have someone hold him like that so he just stayed quiet. And it stayed like that until they both fell asleep, gayly in the same bed.

#postal dude #postal oc #postal dude x oc #postal fanfic #sorry for any mistakes #THE LAST SENTENCE WAS A JOKE THING BTW JSJDKDG

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ratg0r3 · 1 year

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THAT ONE FIC IM WRITING UPDATE

ch2 but its just the lil bit i have written uh also find it on A03

The blaring sound of a cheap battery-powered alarm clock wakes me from my sleep. Rubbing my eyes and reaching blindly to the area above my head where the alarm clock goes off. Knocking the batteries out of the clock as it hits the floor. "Ah, shit…" Groaning I sit up, looking around the semi Sun lit room before looking for the clock and its batteries. Once found I place them back in the clock and set it on the end table where it was before. Standing up and making my way to the bedroom of the apartment I find Mikey sleeping with their pile of plushes. Quietly walking to the dresser I grab some clothes, not caring what it is, as long as it's clean. Once I get changed for the day I drive back to the corner store, pulling into the back parking lot. Getting out of the car and entering the store I see the tall ginger guy looking for snacks. Standing there for a moment I decide to walk up to him, seeing as it's thirty minutes before my shift. He smells strongly of a campfire as I step closer, trying to play it casual by stepping beside him and browsing the snacks. I look over at him and find he is caught up in listening to his music, he gives a quick glance at me before a face of recognition appears. Fumbling with his Walkman, he pauses his music and turns to me with a curious look. "Yeah? You're the cashier from yesterday, right?" He says as he points to me after grabbing a bag of plain chips. "Yeah, my friends call me Crust, or Rust… long story but that's my name. What about you? I never caught your name." I ask as I look up at him, his sunglasses reflecting my image back. He smirks as he goes back to browse the snacks again. "Name's Dude. Nice to meet you Rust, so… Do you have work here today again?" He says as he walks to the drink section of the store, browsing the sodas. "Yeah, just a four-hour shift though, some guy called in sick a few days back." Sighing, I grab a can of Cola for myself. "Can I talk with you after work then? You seem like one of the only people with their head screwed on right." He says before holding out his empty hand and he looks at me with a small awkward smile. Shaking his hand, I take note of the roughness before speaking up. "Sure Dude, also here, I'll pay for your stuff too, come here to the counter." I walk over to behind the counter, ringing up his items, a bag of chips, and a pack of gum along with my soda. Paying for them all then handing him the bag of his items smiling. "I'll see you later Dude."

#postal #postal1 #postal 1 dude #postal fanfic #i need inspo NOWWWW

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kittycraftt · 5 months

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honestly would post Angel x Postal 1 Dude fanfics but im too scared to and never finish writing them,,,,

#oc x canon fanfic #oc x canon #postal dude #postal dude x oc #postal oc #oc x cc #fic #postal fic #postal fanfic

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cephalopod-celabrator · 7 months

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I think it's a shame that there was never a discworld book involving Moist Von Lipwig facing the elves. Because I would pay so much money to see that. The elves are dangerous and some of them have seriously powerful magic, but for the most part they're creatures of glamour. They entrance, trick, deceive, and intimidate. But the thing is, Moist is even better at it than they are. Moist's primary skills are just his sheer audacity and charisma. The elves are creatures of stories, and Moist knows how to spin a story better than anyone. Plus, it's mentioned elves often try to use their glamour to overwhelm humans with sheer feelings of inadequacy and inferiority. And while Moist doesn't like plenty of things about himself, he's incredibly good at hiding it. As I said, he's a man with audacity. It could also draw an interesting parallel showing how elves aren't much more than he is, just magical con-artists but at least he's trying to be better now. Bonus: Adora Belle Dearheart vs the elves. She has an even more ironclad sense of self-confidence than Moist. Plus she has golems, which would likely be unaffected by both elf glamour and elf swords, and goblins which were formerly enslaved by the elves and are a vengeful people with access to a lot of iron. It would also be funny if they were hyper-sensitive to her cigar smoke or something

#terry pratchett #discworld #moist von lipwig #adora belle dearheart #elves discworld #elves #gnu terry pratchett #If I had the time and energy to write fanfic this would be one of the things I'd do #making money #going postal #raising steam

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georgiacooked · 1 year

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“Steal five dollars and you're a common thief. Steal thousands and you're either the government or a hero.” ― Terry Pratchett, Going Postal

#artists on tumblr #art #digital art #digital painting #discworld #moist von lipwig #ankh morpork #discworld fanfic #gnu terry pratchett #going postal #Q

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amethystfairy1 · 26 days

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Hey Amethyst! I was rotating ttsbc, and I now have a lil headcanon that as a kid, Pearl wanted a way to send stuff to friends, and it perked tango and ethos interest, and they made a mail system of sorts for friends! It has no bearing on the actual story, I just thought it was a cute idea and wanted to share!

(Bc can you imagine a 12 year old Pearl-o making her own mail costume when on “official business! And tango getting really into the red stone, it just makes me happy :D)

Aww that's so so so adorable! Just imagining good Dad Etho trying to come up with some sort of little redstone system so she can send little messages back and forth with her besties Impulse and Gem that's SO SWEET! And little bitty Tango just watching him do the redstone with big ol eyes like 'whats that? whats that? how does that work? can I help?' future head of mechanical innovation in the under-city, our precious little blaze-born!

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #pearlescentmoon #etho #tangotek #pet postal #hermitcraft 10 #world

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wumblebum · 11 months

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- Leo

#postal #postal dude #how he acts in every reader insert fanfic

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rikaluver · 4 months

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Joy Ride - Postal Dude x AFAB Reader

Genre - Smut

This is an old fic of mine, you can find it on AO3 but I don't know where since it was on my old account...Anyways, enjoy!!

The heat hits you like a wave. The sun beats down relentlessly from a cloudless sky, casting everything in a harsh, unyielding light. The gas station is a low-slung building, its faded yellow and red paint peeling in the desert sun.

You get closer and spot a tall man in a tattered black trench coat loitering near the pumps. He’s got a scruffy goatee and a wild look in his eye, and he seems to be muttering to himself as he paces back and forth.

Freak, you think to yourself.

You push open the door, and a blast of cool air washes over you, providing a welcome respite from the scorching desert heat. It’s dimly lit inside, with rows of shelves stocked with snacks, drinks, and other random shit. There’s one other customer inside—an older man. He’s standing by idly, not looking at anything or buying anything. It’s like he’s not even there.

You make your way to the back of the store, grabbing a few snacks and some beer (a lot of it). There isn’t much to do around in this ghost town; you spend most of your time getting drunk or high. As you return to the store's front, you notice a display of souvenirs near the register. Postcards with the Grand Canyon, refrigerator magnets, random shit with the state flag plastered on it, you name it.

The cashier appears disconnected, staring blankly ahead and barely acknowledging your presence. As rude as it is, you snap your fingers before him to get his attention. He blinks slowly and looks at you vacantly before scanning your items. He’s moving in slow motions as if operating on autopilot.

You don’t bother to make small talk; you know he’ll give one-word responses, not registering your words. It’s always the same with the people in Paradise. They’re like zombies.

You finish paying and gathering your belongings, though you can’t help but feel a bit of unease.

You feel the warm sun on your skin and the desert air in your lungs the moment you step outside. You shield your eyes from the sun's rays, waiting for your eyes to adjust.

The people in this town stick around one place, and you rarely see them anywhere else, so when you see the guy there when you entered, smoking, it’s not a surprise. You know everyone’s face (not that there are many people, to begin with), but you can’t recognize this guy. You’re unsure if you’ve ever seen him outside, and you’d undoubtedly remember him considering his height (he’s got to be 6’5” at least).

He spots you after a while and quickly stubs his cigarette out before walking up to you.

“You’re not one of the contaminated ones, I can tell.”

“Jesus, dude, what?”

A manic grin spreads across his face, “You’ve noticed it, haven’t you?”

You take a step back, feeling a bit uneasy. The man in front of you seems like he’s on something. And, unlike everybody else in the town, you can’t tell what his next move will be.

“There’s something in the air infecting everyone in Paradise. You and I are the only uninfected people left in this town.”

You scoff and push past him, making your way back home. You were right to think he was a freak when you first saw him. As animated as he may be, he’s still one of the crazy people around here.

Are you the only one with a functioning brain around?

The man grabs your shoulder and turns you around effortlessly, griping you too firmly. Not only was he abnormally tall, but he was also abnormally strong.

“I know. I know what you’re thinking—you think I’m one of them, right? Different but still crazy, yeah?” His eyes flicker between you and whatever’s behind you (you know there’s nothing and no one behind you). The look in his eyes is one of a man on the edge, teetering between madness and despair. “You can trust me, though. I thought the same when I saw you,” he punctuates each word, his grip tightening.

You feel a sharp jolt of pain through your muscles; the shit he’s saying goes in one ear and out the other. You need him to let go. The pressure is intense, and it feels like his fingers are digging deep into your flesh, leaving a mark you can feel long after he’s released his hold.

“Yeahyeahyeah, you’re right, now let me go!” Your voice comes out more desperate than you’d like it to.

Realizing that he may have been too forceful, the man quickly lets go of your shoulder. “Sorry,” he says, a note of concern in his deep voice. “You’re willing to hear me out though, right?”

You nod, rubbing your shoulder to soothe the soreness, not considering what you just agreed to. And before you know it, the man’s taking you to his house. He introduces himself as Postal Dude. You’re not sure why he’s using a fake name if, apparently, you two are the only ordinary people around.

As you approach his home, you see it’s in disarray, with broken furniture and discarded items strewed outside. It seems The Dude has been living in survival mode, making do with whatever he can salvage.

It’s no wonder you’ve never seen him around.

Once inside, Postal Dude leads you to a small, makeshift living room with only a few small lamps providing light, a worn-out couch, and a rickety table that needs to be flipped back up. You sit on the couch (the only “clean” place) and look at his living conditions. The walls are bare, and the floors are made of old, creaky wood planks that groan at any pressure applied. Stacks of newspapers, empty beer bottles, and discarded food wrappers are piled up in the room's corners. There are a few personal touches here and there, a well-arranged collection of….weapons on a nearby shelf, an old game console (he doesn’t have a TV), and porno magazines! How homely!

He doesn’t sit down with you. He, instead, walks over to the window, peering out anxiously through the blinds. His posture is tense, and you can tell he’s on edge. Jesus, you can practically see the fear and anxiety emanating from him, and you wonder what he’s looking for. You assume the “infection” must make him paranoid and attentive, always looking for potential threats.

“You okay?” you ask cautiously.

After a few moments, he turns back to you, his expression still serious. “We need to be careful,” his voice is low and urgent.

“Uh, yeah, for sure,” you fiddle with your bag. Maybe drinking might get him to calm down (and break the silence). You take out a can of beer, you’re shocked the thing’s still cold, and hold it out to him. “Want one?”

He doesn’t reply but walks back to the couch and grabs the beer you’re offering. You watch as he cracks open a can and chugs it down like it's nothing; he lets out a satisfied sigh and sits down next to you. He seems more at ease. He grabs another from the bag, cracks it open, only taking a sip this time, and begins to ramble about the supposed infection. His tone is urgent; his words spill out quickly as if he's been waiting for someone to talk to about this for a long time.

“It's crazy out there, you know,” he says, taking a swig of his beer. “People are turning into these—these things. I don’t even know what to call them.”

You nod, taking in his words. It’s clear now that Postal Dude is fucking mental. But hey, he’s the most exciting thing around town and will have an actual conversation with you, so you decide to humor him.

"Have you seen them?"

“Yeah, all over the place, they’re slow but fuckin’ insane. If I ever let one catch me, I probably wouldn’t be here to help you. You’ve seen them too.”

“I have?”

"Yeah, back at the gas station. Two of them." He drinks the rest of his beer and goes on a tangent about…stages and stuff…to explain the ones you encountered. You give up on trying to keep track a couple of words in, and the guy talks for what feels like forever. You start chugging beers with him to cope with the total bullshit he's spewing. Nothing he's saying makes sense. You're surprised you didn't see any comic books about aliens invading Earth lying around. His imagination is way too active. Or he's delusional. He's mistaking everyday citizens who work tirelessly for people infected and trying to kill him. It's safe to say you don't believe a single word coming out of his mouth. Though, you're having fun listening to him talk.

The Dude’s voice is deep and gravelly; he speaks in a low, measured tone, as if every word is carefully chosen for maximum impact. Even when he’s slurring his words right now, you like it. When he finally finishes his deviation, you realize how much you miss hearing him talk.

His voice isn’t the only thing you like about him. A middle-aged man with a rugged appearance isn’t exactly who you’d go after, but his looks are eye-catching. His hair’s unkept and greasy, falling in messy strands around his face. His deep-set green eyes draw you in. In fact, he’s one of the few good-looking men in Paradise. Or you’d assume you never paid attention to looks (or sanity). Dick size was the only thing that mattered.

And speaking of dick size…

“So…what do I do?”

He slurs something you presume to be a ‘what?’

“About them going mad and attacking me, what do I do about that?”

“Fight back.” You know the question’s stupid, and so does he, chuckling a little under his breath. “If you'd let me, I don’t mind showing you a thing or two.”

He explains some basic self-defense techniques, stuff you already know. The more he talks, the more excited you get. Something about his voice hits you hard, deep in your gut. It might be the alcohol. Who cares what it is, though?

You lean in closer, catching his lips with yours in a slow kiss. He returns the kiss in a far less passive fashion. He doesn't wait for you to acclimatize to his kiss's more aggressive tempo, brushing his tongue over your lip eagerly. The subtle taste of alcohol lingers on his lips. When he opens his mouth, and his tongue meets yours, the citrusy, bitter flavor is intensified tenfold. You groan, pushing further into the kiss. Postal Dude seems more than pleased to indulge you, playing along with your lead while his hands wander and grope at whatever’s most readily available. Down they go, over your back and shoulders to cup your ass, twisting around to knead and stroke your thighs and hips. It's as if he can't decide which part of you was the most enticing.

After some time, he wraps his hands around your waist and hoists you onto his thigh. You only now realize how tall he is; you guessed he was 6’5” at first, but he’s humongous. So is the tent in his pants!

Your hands trail down between the two of you and unbutton his trousers, and at the sight of his undergarments, you sort of raise an eyebrow. You brush your fingers against the tip of his crotch, and he lets out a hitched breath against your lips.

“You got a condom?” He pulls away from your lips and trails kisses on your collarbone.

You whimper slightly at the contact, “no…is that a deal breaker for you?”

He sighs and mumbles a “yeah” against your shoulder.

“Hey, it’s fine, man,” you shuffle him off your shoulder a bit. When he looks up at you, you raise your hand to his face, cupping his neck and rubbing your thumb under his jaw. “If you won’t fuck me without a condom, I’m down with giving you head or a handjob.”

Postal Dude considers it for a brief second before his face bores the dejected expression it did a minute ago.

“Orrr…” you trail off.

“Or?”

“Or I could ride your thigh while you jerk off.”

That’s an idea that sticks with him. He’s not comfortable letting anyone around his junk. If he’s ever had anyone around his junk, that is.

You watch as he takes himself out of his boxers. You gawk at the sheer size of his dick before taking it all in. It suits a man his height.

You're somewhat grateful neither of you had condoms on you; there's no way you could fit that all in you. Well, maybe you could, but you'd end up in the hospital.

Words can't express how badly you'd love to touch it (whore). But alas, you can't. Gotta respect boundaries.

As he begins touching himself, you find yourself (metaphorically) drooling at the sight. It's, like, really hot. He pants and lets out soft whines occasionally, and you eat up every part of it. After a bit, you realize you're just staring at him and not fulfilling your end of the deal (plus, you're horny as fuck, and you have to take care of that too). You start your movements on his thigh, nice and slow. You let yourself enjoy how good it feels to grind against him, albeit embarrassing. His eyes are on you, and you can't tell if he's judging you or what, but he's undoubtedly enjoying it if the way he thrusts up into his hand is any indication.

It's humiliating.

It's exciting.

With a slight struggle, you wrap your arms around his neck and get closer for a quick peck on the lips.

The “supposed” peck quickly turns to making out, and one of your hands rests on his head, not keeping him there, just finding a more comfortable position. Without realizing it, your fingers run through his ginger hair, and he whines into your mouth, leaning further into the kiss.

You pet him some more, and his hips buck into his hand each time, giving you more pleasure. It’s embarrassing for him but extremely arousing for you.

After a while, you pick up the pace against his thigh. You vibrate as he fucks his hand, admiring how you look. It’s disgusting but oh-so intoxicating. You pant into each other, verging on each other's climaxes. The Dude cums first with a breathless grunt, and you follow, wetting his thigh.

#postal #postal dude x reader #postal 1 #postal writing #creative writing #writing #fanfic #fanficiton #ao3 author

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strawbrygashez · 1 year

Text

Vampire Postal 1 Dude x Postal 3 Dude

Starting to get spoiled

Yep! We r about to get Twilight up in here 🧛‍♀️ uhh tw for blood, needles, cutting ppl open (not descriptive) !!! 😧 this is a bit more uhh sensual than I usually write but nothing super super crazy happens! Ask me to tag anything else

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A postal dude of all people should be used to changes in their life, almost everyday a new situation would present itself to Dude and for the most part, Dude could handle it well and go with the flow and P3 guesses this isn’t the absolute worst new thing he had to introduce to his daily errands list but it was certainly new. Usually after killing someone, he’d just go on his jolly way, perhaps whistling a tune while stepping right on top of newly deceased body now that one more annoyance had been taken care of, but now Dude had to spend a good while after with the cold dead body and occasionally drag them off for even more privacy so there would be less of a chance someone would come across the pretty disturbing scene of Dude trying to collect as much blood from the body as he could.

He was still trying to improve on how he actually went about doing this. The least messy way he found was using a syringe but that took a bit longer than other options and didn’t even really provide that much blood if he didn’t repeat his actions a bunch of times, so sometimes he’d go about it the bit messier way and just find a good place to cut open and drain what he could into some of the bottles he’d started to carry around in his backpack now.

It was kinda a pain to clean himself afterwards if he had other things to do and couldn’t exactly be covered in blood while doing so (which was most of the time) but he didn’t mind much. It was all trial and error since he was new to this but it was definitely worth it to know he’s helping out his boyfriend and to know how thankful he is for this. Seeing as p1 couldn’t go out in the daylight and even still had his phobia of being around people and being outside in general at night, p3 felt like it was his job to help him out and provide what he could for his little blood sucker. Coming home had actually became something p3 looked forward to even more now since when he did, and announced to his fanged boyfriend that he’d gotten him a new supply, the way p1 would perk up made his heart flutter every time..no matter how gay that sounded.

P3 was actually looking forward to this right now as he skipped as jolly as ever as his old trailer came into view. Throwing a wave towards Champs direction once he saw the old mutt in his beat up dog house, he quickly sped up to the door, opening it with a loud “Honey! I’m home!”. Only to be met with…no sight of his boyfriend anywhere at first. The light was off for some reason which was pretty unusual. By now P1 would usually be either watching TV or sitting on the couch watching..wolf documentaries on his iPad of all things..which the irony in that had been pointed out to p1 multiple times by now but he didn’t seem to change his interest in the animal despite the jokes.

Confused, P3 switched the lights back on, smiling as a groan came as soon as the lights filled the living room again. Apparently his blood sucker had been laying down on the couch. Tossing his backpack off for now, he made his way over to look down at him from behind the couch, only for his smile to drop as he saw the state P1 was in. He looked pretty miserable, somehow paler than usual as he scowled and pulled the blanket up more over him. “What’s wrong dollface? Did you not drink anything yet? I told you I left some extra bottles in the fridge.” He asked as he ran a hand into P1s long hair. That was another thing he was proud of actually. Since he’d came into P1s life, he’d actually helped him improve in a couple things. One being that he convinced P1 he was worth taking care of himself..so now his hair wasn’t always matted and tangled as it had been before.

P1 leaned into his boyfriend touch but didn’t seem any happier. “No. I know but…mm..” P1 grumbled, apparently not wanting to say exactly what was going on, instead settling to face his head to kiss the palm of p3s hand instead. P3s smile stayed as he ran a thumb across his boyfriends cheek bone. “But what?” He asked. P1 looked up at him for a moment, in thought about something before shaking his head. “You’ll..get mad at me if i-..” he yet again mumbled. The brunette of the two rolled his eyes playfully before removing his hand from him and crossing his arms on the back of the couch. “Did you manage to trick some poor pizza guy to come over and now he’s rotting in our room? Or maybe he kicked your ass and that’s why you’re all mopey?” P3 knew at times when P1 won’t spit out what he wants to say or is holding something in, humor or messing with him usually helped. They were a pretty good match in that way.

P1 rolled his eyes now too and finally sat up, giving p3 the chance to see how bad off p1 actually was at the moment. His face was even skinner than usual and his eyes looked ‘dead’ which was a usual sign he hadn’t drank in a while..which he already said he hadn’t but- “I don’t want some uh..like pizza guys blood.” The fanged Dude said. P3 nodded and joked “yeah you’re too good for that.” P1 glared at him for just a minute before rubbing his eyes and continuing. “I don’t want…Dude. I..The blood you’ve been bringing back is..okay. I appreciate it but it’s all so cold and-”

“You can probably heat blood up. Yknow we have a microwave..might make it smell bad for me but I dunno I might like it! When someone is burning they kinda smell like chicken so..”

P1 squinted a moment before sighing. “No. I’m just trying to say..the last time I had yours…it was so good and warm.. all these other random other people I’m drinking from aren’t as good.” He finally confessed. P3 couldn’t help but get..a tiny bit red at that (probably not helping the situation here since p1 sounds like he could eat him whole right now since apparently..he was ‘warm’). He gave a slight nervous chuckle before standing up straight again. “Didnt I let you do that at least twice last week? I think you’re just starting to get spoiled…” P3 said before starting to go over to grab his backpack to provide him with a bottle. And for fucks sake..a fucking whine sounded like it slipped out of his boyfriend. “Pleassee… I’m not getting spoiled…it’s just you taste really good and I’m tired of random peoples bland cold blood.”

Now one of p3s favorite things about his boyfriends whole ‘vampire’ thing was all the sucking and tasting innuendos. It was just too easy. He smirked and stopped in his steps to look back over at him. “I taste good, huh? In more ways than one?” Now either p1 knew what he was doing or he was just dense but either way..he nodded. “Mhm..and..maybe if you let me have what I want..I’ll ‘taste’ you the other way after.” It was a miracle in P1s mind he was able to get that sentence out with a minimal shake in his voice. He still wasn’t used to being with someone..or even being in situations like that with someone but he supposed fair was fair and well..he is his boyfriend so he obviously would wanna do that anyways. And of course, when p1 had gotten that offer out, p3 being the horn dog he is, changed his tune real quick.

“Yknow what? I’ll take ya up on that.” He smirked as he made his way back to him on the couch. P1 grinned as p3 made his way to sit down and scooted over but paused when p3 did while the smirk left. “Just..be good and don’t yknow fucking kill me. Or I guess you can. Dying because of you would be alright I suppose.” He finished, finally sitting down. P1 shook his head playfully and scooted up closer. “Of course not.” Now that P1 was this close…maybe it would have been a good idea to have drank some beforehand because the way p3 smelled was intoxicating..and the heat coming off him was almost too much. He hadn’t felt this much of a need for him in this way before.. not being able to really hold back, he made his way to sit on his lap, not wasting much time to lean in close to the side of p3s neck, taking in the warmth and how his vains seemed to pop out in P1s eyes. P3 felt the tip of his boyfriend nose slowly move across the side of his neck which caused him to swallow. He felt like fucking prey under him which..still wasn’t something p3 was used to. Not that it scared him, he trusts p1 but he was usually the one in control. To regain somewhat of a grasp of the situation, he held onto P1s thin hips as he continued.

“Let go.” He whispered, still not moving away from his neck. Before p3 could ask why, his boyfriend continued before licking a stripe up his neck. “Take off your jacket.” The brunette listened and shrugged off what he could while sitting down and p1 helped pushed the sleeve down out of his way from what side he was leaned into. Now he had much better access to the area he drank from last time which he could still see the scars from. A mix of feelings washed over him as he saw his old bite and fang marks in the skin where Dudes shoulder met his neck. Mostly he felt proud and content knowing he’d been walking around with that even though he rarely took his jacket off. For just a moment he imagined him taking it off just for some bitch to get jealous of him, seeing he belonged to someone else. But those thoughts could wait for later. He felt practically in heaven in this situation right now and not taking a bite already felt like he was just teasing himself..but he supposed a little preparation was always good.

Apparently he wasn’t only teasing himself however, feeling a sudden..sign in p3s pants that he was enjoying this in some way too. The ginger couldn’t help but giggle and go back in to lick over the spot he’d previously bit. He heard a small breath leave his boyfriend and his hands once again return to his hips. “You’re too good to me.” P1 whispered as he glanced down to his boyfriends tan skin. “I know. That’s wh- MM-!” The little fucker cut him off with one more lick from the flat of his tongue, only to finally sink his fangs in. P3 didn’t hate the feeling, it felt amazing the past two times and he sure it will start to feel better in a minute but the sharp first sting always had him biting his own bottom lip.

P1 brought his other hand up to hold onto p3s other shoulder to hold himself up steady as he quickly felt himself getting lost in the way p3 tasted. In all of his life nothing compared to the warmth and taste of him. Something about it was just so much better than anyone else he’d ever drank from and it certainly helped that his boyfriend eventually started to raise one of his hands up to his back to ‘soothe’ him when he was the one getting fucking drank from. P3 ran his thumb up and down a area of his boyfriends spine as he listened to the little noises that escaped from his vampires throat. He (correctly) assumed this was also satisfying more than his literal thirst ..especially when p1 would occasionally grind in closer to him and it didn’t take long for the ginger to get worked up himself too to where his boyfriend could feel it and him panting.

P3 couldn’t help but to groan a couple times and let his body relax as more and more of blood was taken from him. All of this made his body feel hot and his head feel dizzy like usual but this time..he felt a bit more dizzy than usual. It was probably because p1 was..really drinking more from him than he usually did. He’d never felt a liquid start rolling down himself during this before but he certainly did now. He also felt his boyfriend huff even more as he continued and felt the fucker even bite down harder, like he was forgetting, ‘hey you’re drinking from ur boyfriend here’. And it was getting all too much when P1s knee pressed in between his legs more and the room felt like it was spinning.

With what energy he could muster, he let out a silent “hey…” when p1 didn’t answer and just kept on ‘enjoying his meal’ that he was taking a bit too much enjoyment of, he gave a slight pat to his hip. “Hey. C-calm down already..y-you’re gonna- I’m not gonna have much blood left sk-skippy.” Thankfully this got P1s attention this time and he finally slowly unhooked his fangs out, quickly licking up what was still pouring out before sitting up straight to look at p3. And sure, p3 felt super fucking light headed and probably wouldn’t be in the mood for his bj anymore now that he can’t focus on one thing much and was tired as shit but what he did notice and take immense pleasure of was how fucking blissed out his boyfriend looked now..only being slightly terrified that his boyfriends mouth and chin was pretty well covered in his blood.

The life in his eyes was back and even some color was in his face now. His cheeks were back to looking a bit plumper again too. He watched as p1 licked his lips and a slurty grin appeared on his face. “Guessed you had fun hm??” P3 asked as he rested his head back on the couch. “Mhm~ thank you babe.” P1 sang as he leaned in to give him a quick kiss. P3 only hummed ‘mhm’ back before closing his eyes. The ginger stared at him for a moment longer while licking more of the blood off his lips before going to slip back down onto the ground to get started on his side of the deal..until a hand grabbed his upper arm and p3 only shook his head. “Forget it. You nearly damn killed me I just wanna chill for a moment.”

“Oh…sorry…do you want me to patch up your arm?” P1 innocently asked as he looked back over to the bloody shoulder. Again p3 shook his head and now pulled p1 up closer and wrapped his arms around him. “Nope. Just stay still for a minute would ya?” The vampire grinned and nuzzled into him. “Fine..you know we wouldn’t have this problem maybe if you’d let me turn you into a vampi-”

“We’ll get there when we get there” the brunette mumbled as he got moved to get more comfortable. P1 chuckled and finally closed his eyes too. “Of course”

#postal dude #p2 x p3 #postal 2 #postal 3 #postal fanfic #sorry if this is uhhh BAD or whatever #the ending was kinda my first time writing like that so 😳😳😳 it’s prob not good but oh well #just having some FUNN

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