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#cooper howard x reader
finniestoncrane · 2 days
Note
Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3
Different Up Here
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, rimming, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly
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If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.
"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"
Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.
"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."
A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.
"Heh, that's a new one for out here."
Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.
"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"
"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."
"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."
You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.
That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.
Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.
"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"
Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.
"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."
You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.
"No, no no no no no. Just..."
The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.
"... fooling around... y'know?"
Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.
"Oh... oh darlin'."
He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.
"I don't think you're ready for that at all."
You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.
"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"
"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"
"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."
Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.
"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."
"Why? Sex is sex..."
You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.
"... Isn't it?"
"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."
The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.
"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."
His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.
"No, sir."
"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"
As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir."
You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.
You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.
And luckily, he seemed agreeable.
"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"
Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.
It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.
"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"
Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.
"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."
His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.
"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."
"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"
Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.
"Well, it's something like this."
He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.
Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.
Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.
"Well?"
"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."
"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"
He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.
"You like that? Like it rough?"
"I think... I think I like both."
"So, something like this?"
He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.
You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.
"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."
Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.
"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."
His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.
"Did they make you feel good?"
"No."
You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.
"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"
"A little..."
Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.
"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."
His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.
“And what about these pretty lips?”
Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.
“They touch these lips, huh?”
You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.
“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”
As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.
“Do it slowly though.”
Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.
“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”
You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.
“Turn around though. You face that way.”
The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.
“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”
A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.
The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.
It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.
“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”
His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.
“Don’t you dare, little lady.”
“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”
He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.
“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”
“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”
“I absolutely will not.”
Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.
Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.
“I am warning you, missy.”
“Cooper… I can’t stop…”
You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.
“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”
“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.
“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”
“Cooper…”
“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”
“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”
“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”
The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.
“Come on, darlin’, come on…”
Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.
As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.
“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”
You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.
“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”
As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.
“Alright then, get onto your knees.”
Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.
You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.
It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.
“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”
The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.
He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.
“Can I taste it… you?”
Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.
“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”
You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.
A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.
Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.
“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”
He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.
“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”
You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.
“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”
It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.
“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”
Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.
He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.
“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”
You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.
Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.
And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.
“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”
He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.
“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”
“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”
“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”
You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.
Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.
“Bigger than before?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.
“Better?”
“Mhm…”
“Speak up, darlin’.”
With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.
“Yes… it’s better.”
“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”
Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.
“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”
“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”
Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.
“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”
You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.
“Ah… Cooper…”
“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”
There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.
“A little…”
Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.
His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.
“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.
“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”
You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.
“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”
With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.
“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”
It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.
And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.
You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.
“Did I say you could get up?”
Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.
“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”
Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.
“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”
Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.
When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.
“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”
“M-more?”
More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.
“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”
1K notes · View notes
lyingindecay · 2 days
Text
Trust
[The Ghoul x Fem!Chubby!Reader]
Summary: Cooper finds out you're a virgin and helps you out. Warnings: NS//FW, MINORS DNI, Vaginal Fingering, Oral (f! receiving), pet names (sweetheart, darling), Soft!Cooper (because i said so), slightly insecure!reader, plus size reader, p in v, first time sex, potentially established relationship (you can read it however you want), no protection, creampie (don't worry, you have radaway), not proofread (im friendless) Word Count: 2.6k A/N: I just jumped into this, it wasn't even supposed to be this long... also please go easy on me, I'm still watching the show since I've been busy. And haven't written actual smut in months... SIDENOTE, i'm plus size/chubby so that's what I always envision when writing, but this is explicitly written with that in mind! Thanks, hope you enjoy!!
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“C’mon, darlin’,” Cooper drawls out. His gloved hands roam up your arms, his lips are pressed to your neck. “I can feel your heartbeat…” His lips stop on your pulse. You can feel your heart pounding into your rib cage.
“Cooper?” You’re breathless, really. In a good way. But, fear comes creeping in. Cooper hums, telling you he’s listening. “I’m a virgin.” You are tense.
Cooper’s brow ridges knit together. He smiles against your skin. You feel it. He pulls away and his head drops to the side, his eyes watching you closely. You feel so… Small compared to him at the moment. Your anxiety is spiking. You breath hitches and Cooper’s smile fades.
“Sweetheart,” Cooper lets go of you, but he doesn’t back up. “We can wait, if ya aren’t ready.”
“I trust you.” You try to calm yourself. You do trust him, deeply and sincerely. You trust him more than anything. More than anyone else.
“But?” Cooper gives you a playful grin.
“What do you mean?” You cock your head.
“There’s always a but, doll. You trust me, but something else is wrong.” He states it like it’s obvious.
“Oh.” You bite the inside of your lip, nearly drawing blood. You suck in air, harshly, and fidget in your spot. “Uh, I don’t like how I look…”
Cooper’s eyes widen as you speak. He is shocked. Completely and utterly shocked. “Darlin’… You are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Cooper’s hands stay at his side, but you can tell he wants to touch you, guide you… Ruin you. “We don’ have t’ do this right now,” He reassures, “or ever- But, if ya want-” Cooper leans in closer, his face inches from yours. “-I can show ya how beautiful I think you are.”
You swallow hard. “Oh?” You sound surprised. You nod. “I would like that.” You whisper, not breaking eye contact.
Cooper smirks, “Name the time and place, sweetheart-”
“Here and now.” You spit it out without thinking.
“You sure?” He hesitates to touch you again. “A hundred percent?” You nod. Cooper smiles and pulls you into a kiss. Your lips press to his eagerly and you grab onto his duster, holding onto it like a lifeline. Cooper’s lips trail down your neck and rest on your pulse again. “You really want this? I don’ need ya doin’ this just because-”
“Shut up and kiss me again.” You whine. “Please.”
Cooper does not hesitate. His lips hit yours and you kiss back eagerly. Cooper’s gloved hands roam down your sides and they rest on your hips. Your arms wrap around his neck and settle there. You are still slightly stiff, anxiety not completely subsided. Cooper makes it his goal to help relax you.
“Y’know,” he hums against your jawline, “I didn' know you could be… bratty.” You hum in return, in confusion. “You told me to shut up, darlin’.”
“I needed you to kiss me…” your eyes are shut, head lolled back.
“Oh, you needed it?” He teases. “That bad, huh?”
You whine again, from embarrassment and pleasure. “Yeah, I need you.” You state it, no questioning and somehow very confidently.
“And I need ya to look at me with demands like that.” He smirks at you. You look at him and pout. “It ain't hard, sweetie. Promise.”
You groan. Your eyes lock with his, and your face heats up, exponentially so. “I need you, Cooper. I need you to touch me, kiss me… fuck me.” You immediately cover your face. Cooper laughs. His hand reaches for yours and pulls it down, showing your face to him again.
“Darlin’, I ain't gonna hurt ya. No need to be all shy.” He kisses your jawline, up to your ear. “Now,” he whispers in your ear, “how do you need me, exactly?”
“I already stated that!”
“No, no,” Cooper nibbles your earlobe. “In detail. And look at me this time.” He pulls away from your ear and looks at you again, closer to you this time. “How do you need me?”
You let out a shaky breath. “I need you to touch me- I don't care where, or how. Please, I wanna feel your hands on my skin.”
“Atta girl,” Cooper begins to take his gloves off. “Wasn't so hard, was it?” You roll your eyes. Cooper freezes. “Did you jus-” he squints at you, before smiling. “You are a brat.”
You want to rip your hair out. “Please, Cooper. I wanna feel good…”
He removes his gloves completely. His hands touch your clothed stomach, moving to your waist. Your heart is racing again. His hands scoot down to the hem of your shirt and you don't break eye contact with him. “It's okay,” your voice is so soft, “I still trust you.”
Cooper nods. You help him get you out of your shirt. You're standing there now, just in your pants, wondering what led you to this situation. You're thankful; thankful or whatever force brought you to Cooper. His bare hands grab for your soft stomach, tracing over the stretch marks. You suck in air through your nose and look away from Cooper.
“I need you to keep your eyes on me,” Cooper moves a hand to your chin and redirects your eyes back to him. “Need to know I'm makin’ ya feel good.” You nod. “Good girl.” Cooper begins to lead you towards the bed and sits you down on the edge of it. “Now, mind if I take these off?” Cooper motions towards your pants. You shake your head and when he grabs your waistband you begin to shimmy out of them.
The cool air hits your bare legs and Cooper crouches in front of you. You instinctively shut your legs together and gasp when Cooper's hands grab at your thick thighs. He doesn't pull your legs apart, not immediately. He watches you, examining your current expression, before continuing.
“Still okay?” He questions you. As soon as you nod, he gently pulls at your legs and you relax. He positions himself between your thighs and begins kissing your skin. One of his hands moves towards your panties. He rubs a stripe up your clothes pussy and you bite back a moan. Cooper pulls away from your thigh and looks at you. “Already so wet…”
“All for you. Only for you.” You mumble. Cooper gives you a hungry look. Your stomach flips. He's grabbing at the waistband of your panties and pulling them down your legs in no time. The look in his eyes is something you're sure you've never seen before. Your skin is on fire and you do not want him to stop touching you. Or staring at you that way.
Cool air hits your newly exposed skin and you shiver. Cooper's fingers dance across your thighs. “You positive this is what ya want?” You nod again, giving an enthusiastic yes. “If you need me to stop at any time, tell me.”
“Of course.” You nod and lean back slightly, getting more comfortable on the bed. Your fists automatically ball the sheets up, and Cooper lets out a low laugh. “What?”
“This is gonna be fun.” He says it like you're supposed to know what he means. You cock a brow at him. “You're so soft an’ sweet. I can assure you,” He smiles against your thigh, one of his fingers pushing inside of you, “after this, you won't want any other man or ghoul.”
And, God, do you know he’s right. His finger curls inside of you and your hips buck slightly. Cooper smiles against your thigh. Your eyes are stuck on him. Your chest is heaving already. Cooper’s thumb hits your clit and you gasp.
“Ever touch yourself, sweetheart?” Cooper asks against your thigh. When you give a shy nod, Cooper chuckles. “Bet it never felt this good, did it?” You shake your head. Cooper pulls his hand away from you and you tense at the warmth leaving you. “I’m assumin’ ya’ve never never been tasted, hm?” You want to hide, you shake your head again. “Gonna make ya feel so good,” Cooper promises. You know it’s a promise.
Cooper dives in, his tongue pushes into you and licks up your pussy. He groans as he tastes you. His hands grip your hips tighter and you wince. Cooper mumbles something into you about how good you taste and your hips roll. He holds you still. You let out a whine and beg for me. And who is Cooper to deny you of that?
His tongue swirls around your clit and, this time, two fingers push into you. Your palms dig into the bed sheets in your fists and you let out a soft cry from pleasure. Cooper hums against you and fire is building in your core. You go to roll your hips again and Cooper holds you down, hips pinned to the bed. His finger curls up and pumps in and out of you. You are immediately sent over the edge.
“Ah!” You moan, your voice breaking, “Cooper- I’m-”
Cooper pulls away, his fingers staying inside of you. “I know,” His voice is gruff as he places a kiss on your thigh. “I got ya,” His fingers pull from you and they circle your swollen bud, and your entire body is taught, every muscle tense. Your orgasm hits hard.
Your body relaxes onto the sheets and your entire world is still spinning. You are seeing stars. “Cooper-” You whimper. “Fuck-” Your fingers uncurl from your palm and drop the sheets. Cooper is smiling at you. He’s smug.
“I know, darlin’, it’s a lot.” He crawls on top of you.
“S’not fair,” You mumble, you look up at him. He cocks a brow ridge. “You’re completely dressed, an’ I'm not.” You huff.
“We can change that.” Cooper places a rough kiss against your lips, before sitting up and standing. You watch as he undresses, quickly. He’s ready to get this show on the road. Your stomach flips when he’s fully naked. Your eyes widen and Cooper notices.
“Hey,” He reassures you, “I gotcha. I know this is a lot, all of this; but I’m gonna make sure you feel good.” You nod, swallowing hard. “Do you need to stop?” Cooper asks.
“No, no,” you put a hand up, “I want this, I need you.”
That seems to trigger something in Cooper. He stalks towards you and you’re frozen on the motel bed. You’re watching him closely as he positions himself over you. He holds himself steady above you, one hand on your hip and the other right beside your head. He leans down and kisses you, not as rough as he has been, but still not very gentle. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him close to you. His dick is resting against your stomach in that position. Your skin burns and you ache for him.
He pulls back and begins to kiss down to your collarbone. “Cooper,” You sound as breathless as you had earlier, maybe even more so. His free hand dips from your waist and to your dripping cunt once again. He pushes two fingers in you and smirks against your collarbone, nipping at the sensitive skin there.
“I think you’re ready, darlin’.” Cooper places his forehead to yours and his eyes lock with yours. “Are you ready?”
You nod enthusiastically, smiling up at him. Cooper grabs your leg and brings it up to his hip. He angles himself at your entrance and you prepare yourself. You pull him closer to you and Cooper gently pushes into you. His hips roll slightly as he settles for a second and you adjust to the new found sensation. Cooper lets out a low groan, but keeps himself still for you. Until you are ready for more.
“Please,” You whine. Your hips ever so slightly buck upwards. “Please move.”
Cooper does as you ask. How could he not? “Let me know if it’s all too much.” He speaks through gritted teeth, seemingly holding himself back from absolutely wrecking you. You quickly nod, quietly mumbling and begging for more. Cooper slightly picks up his pace, but not too much. You look so breakable beneath him. He does not want to hurt you.
Cooper lets out low huffs and groans as his hips roll into yours. You grab at his scarred back and cry out in pleasure. Your half lidded eyes hit Cooper’s and you moan, loudly. The sound of skin hitting skin echoing throughout the motel room.
“You think-” You moan again, “You think Lucy can hear us?” You are embarrassed at the thought of someone hearing the both of you. Especially your wasteland companion.
“Fuck-” Cooper slams into you a little more harsh than you had expected, causing you to cry out again. “I don’t care.”
Your head rolls back before you can argue with him, your eyes screwing shut. You feel tears brimming your eyes. You’re a moaning mess under Cooper. “Harder-” You almost choke on the word. “Fuck me harder.” Your voice is sharp, and a little louder than before.
“O’ course sweetheart,” Cooper grips the sheet beside your head and your leg wraps around his waist a little tighter. Cooper looks wild as his hips slam into yours. Everytime he pulls back your hips chase his.
“I’m gonna- I’m close-” You’re almost crying.
Cooper’s grip moves from your thigh and to your ass, grabbing it hard. You gasp. The same heat from earlier is coming back. Your body is tensing and your toes curl up. You are saying nothing but a string of ‘Cooper’, ‘shit’, and ‘fuck’. Thoughts aren’t forming. You are okay with that if it means feeling this good.
Cooper focuses on you. Each thrust seems to go deeper and your mind is blank. Your breathing is fast and ragged. Your chest is heaving up and down. You clench around Cooper and come undone. Cooper slows down, but does not stop.
“Where?” Cooper growls against your neck.
“Inside.” It’s the first thing you think of, forgetting he’s a ghoul.
Cooper doesn’t seem to think much about it either as his thrusts become sloppy. A low groan escapes Cooper, his thrusts speeding up before he orgasms himself. You feel him cum inside of you. You lie on the bed under him, catching your breath, as he falls on top of you. He’s still inside.
“Cooper?” Your voice is almost hoarse. Cooper doesn’t move, but he gives a soft ‘hm’. “I might need my RadAway.” You laugh a little bit. Cooper sits up and hurries towards your bag. He pulls out the RadAway and brings it back to you. You lazily take it and lay back on the bed. You pat beside you and Cooper narrows his eyes. “What now?” You huff.
“How much of that you got?” He points to the RadAway.
You shrug. “Why?” You ask, really having no clue.
“Well, the night’s young, sweetheart. And I ain’t done if you ain’t.” You light up. “I have a lot I could show ya.”
You are excited all over again. “Relax with me a minute,” you bat your eyelashes at him, “and then, I promise, I’m all yours til the break of dawn.” That’s all Cooper needs to hear. He lied down beside you and begins to kiss your neck. “What are you doing?”
“Helpin’ you relax.” He states, as if it’s so obvious. “And gettin’ you ready for round two.”
You laugh. “Okay, whatever,” You playfully roll your eyes.
“We’re gonna have to handle that.” Cooper grips your hip. “You bein’ a brat and all.” Cooper nips at your neck, you let out a gasp. “I think I know just how to do that, too.” He smiles against you. “And we have all night to find out.”
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spaceclefairy · 2 days
Text
Keep that Coffee Hot
You, a bounty agent. The Ghoul, a bounty hunter. The Ghoul needs to cash in on his most recent job and ends up with more than the contract promised.
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When the Ghoul walks through the front door of your office, you know he's here for one of two things: a contract or a cashout. This no-name wasteland town is little more than a hub for the bounty agencies, so you get rough characters milling in and out of town all the time, but no one can clear a street quite like this Ghoul. You always know when he's back in town - the few people milling about scatter, and even the other bounty hunters coming through make themselves scarce. Even in the middle of a wasteland, he somehow makes the place even more desolate with his just presence alone. 
You don't mind the Ghoul, personally. Dealing with him is part of your job, after all - you're a bounty agent, he's a bounty hunter. You manage the contracts, he hunts the target, you give the payout when he's done. Easy-peasy. He's intimidating, sure, and dangerous, but he's always been all business with you, and he’s damn good for business. 
And if he’s a little flirty sometimes, well, you don’t mind.
This time when the Ghoul struts through your door, he’s dusty from the wasteland outside and carrying a grimy, drippy leather bag in hand. The leather bag squelches faintly as whatever's inside shifts around, dripping brownish liquid on the scrubbed wooden floor. He greets you in his usual way, with a howdy and a sugary darlin’, and plonks the bag down on your desk, goo oozing out from the seams. 
“Howdy, Coop,” you greet, eying the bag with glee. As you drag it over to you, it leaves a snail-trail of ick on the wood, staining it further. You peer into the bag and confirm it's the correct bounty in your contract.
“One mutant heart, as requested,” the Ghoul says. He watches you with a faint amused smile. “Never brought the bounty straight to the agent before.”
You dump the faintly-pulsing mutant heart out on the desk. It’s overly large - much larger than a normal human’s - and gray-brown, and it spurts little gushes of blood when you poke it, so you know it’s still fresh. You’re surprised it’s still working, but that’s why you paid for the Ghoul: he gets things done quickly. 
“That's because I'm the client this time.”
“Aw, you asked for me?” the Ghoul teases, only a little derisively, grinning at you. “That’s sweet.”
You roll your eyes. “I didn't ask for you - I gave the contract straight to you.”
“Straight to little ol’ me, huh?” he grins, resting his elbows on top of your desk.
Anyone else would have been shot for getting this close to you and your contract book, but you’ve always had a little bit of a soft spot for this Ghoul. It might be the flirting swaying your judgment. It might be that he’s actually fairly polite when he comes in - for a bounty hunter anyway. Regardless, you can’t deny you let him get away with more than you let the others who come in for payout.
“That’s what I said, Cooper,” you say as you duck down under your desk to retrieve a sack of caps from the safe and a case stocked with chems and rad-away. “You’re expensive, but you’re worth it. And I needed that done quickly.”
The Ghoul gestures down at the faintly thumping heart. “What’d you want with that guy anyway?”
“Ex-boyfriend.”
“Explains why you wanted his heart in a bag,” the Ghoul comments. He sounds vaguely impressed. “Your ex-boyfriend was a mutant with two heads.”
“Four heads if you count the two below the belt,” you reply. You hand the Ghoul the bag of caps first and the case full of chems second. “Here's your payout and a bonus for quick work.”
The Ghoul opens the case slightly and snaps it shut, apparently pleased by the way his non-existent eyebrows raise. He shoves the bag of caps and case into his shoulder bag and slings it back over his shoulder. “Much appreciated. You got anything else for me to do?”
“Plenty. Let me check the contract log.”
You reach for your book to check, but he stops you by dragging the book over to him. Truly, anyone else would have been shot. Not him. He flips open a page and runs a gloved finger down the crease in the spine, pretending to read whatever’s on the page.
The Ghoul glances up at you. “Are you in the contract log?”
You meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. “Are you telling me you want to do me, Cooper?”
“Sure am, darlin’.”
You lean back in your chair, eyeing the Ghoul where he stands. You’ve always liked his eyes. It’s the only part of him left that looks like there’s still humanity to him.
The Ghoul steps back. “But, if a ghoul’s not really your thing…”
“Didn’t say that.”
“Then what do you say?”
You pause, pretending to think, but you don’t really have to think about it. “Sure, why not?”
“You got a backroom or somethin’ or we just movin’ your book out of the way?”
You nod towards the door behind you, not that you’d be opposed to just fucking him here in the middle of your office. “Yeah, I got a backroom.”
Said backroom constitutes little more than a spare desk and chair with a window, but that’s really all you’ll need. There are no curtains for the window, so whoever walks by is going to get an eyeful of what’s going on if they peek in at the wrong time. You don’t particularly care, and the Ghoul surely doesn’t.
The hat and duster stay put as the Ghoul backs you up against the desk. He’s only a bit taller than you, but his presence takes up the remainder of the tiny, boiling hot room. The hollow, pitted flesh of his face appears raw and red, but his eyes are pretty and alert. His lips are dry and smooth against yours, raw like the rest of his skin. You don’t mind - there’s no room to be picky out in this wasteland town. 
You’re not sure how he’s not miserable in the heat of the tiny room, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. In any case, you drag him closer by his belt, fisting your hand in his duster.
The Ghoul kisses you again, then strips off one of his leather gloves with his teeth and tosses it on the desk behind you. “Guess a ghoul is a step up from a mutant, at least?”
You yank his belt open and shimmy his pants down over his hips - he doesn’t let you get them down any farther. “I like ghouls.”
“Well, then, you’re a fuckin’ weirdo, ain’t ya?”
You slide down the side of the desk and hit your knees, your back pressed against the creaking wood. “Works out well for you, doesn’t it, Coop?”
His still-gloved hand wraps around the back of your neck, the leather sticking to your skin in the heat. “Sure does, darlin’.”
You take his exposed cock in hand and lick him root to tip, grinning at the hiss he gives you. His hand tightens around the back of your neck, catching in your hair. He looms over you, his unoccupied hand planted on the desk, blacking out the sides of your vision with his duster. You slide your hand down around the base of his cock and inch your lips down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks out, and he groans, low and slow, hips twitching like he's fighting the urge to just bury himself in your throat. You look up at him, wrapping your tongue around the tip of his cock, and his eyes are dark deep in the hollows of his eye sockets. 
He doesn't tolerate your teasing long. No, he tangles his hand in your hair and presses himself deep down your throat until your nose is flush with his skin. You gag around him, and he grins, pulling out and thrusting back in so you'll gag on him again.
“That's it,” the Ghoul says, teetering right on the edge of breathlessness, “you take it so well.”
You punctuate his words by scraping your teeth down his shaft, which he seems to like by the way he slams himself down your throat. Your eyes water, and you can feel the tears rolling down your face as surely as you can feel sweat snaking through your hair.
“Look so good on your knees for me,” he says, threading his fingers through your hair. He catches your chin with his ungloved hand, tilting your face up with his cock still in your mouth. His thumb swipes through the tears staining your face. “Pretty as a picture.”
The backroom is only getting hotter the longer you're stuck on your knees, clothed and trapped underneath the Ghoul’s duster with him. You're sure you're soaking through your clothes by now. Your hand snakes down to undo your top and pants so you can get some relief from the heat. It doesn’t help much, but it’s enough to keep your head from swimming.
The Ghoul takes that as an indication you’re itching to take your clothes off (you are). He hauls you to your feet, picks you up, and deposits you on top of the desk, looming over you with a grin. You let him strip the rest of your shirt off and help him get your pants off of one leg. You squeeze his hips between your thighs and hook your foot around his back, pulling him flush against you. 
“Take off the duster, Coop,” you say, moving to tug it down his shoulder. “It’s too hot in here for that.”
He takes the hand clutching his duster and pins it down to the desk. “I think you just want me to get naked.”
You smirk. “That, too.”
He strips off the other glove with his teeth and grips your hip. “Maybe next time, doll.”
“Aw, you wanna fuck me again - oh, fuck-”
The Ghoul doesn’t let you finish teasing him, instead thrusting into you with a rough stroke. The words get caught in your mouth, and he loves that. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Dick,” you say, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him into a breathless kiss. “Just come here.”
The Ghoul yanks you closer by the hip and wastes no time rutting into you. He can’t decide where to put his hands and runs them up your hips, your sides, grabs at your tits, before finally settling one hand around the back of your neck (seems to be his favorite place to grab you) and the other hand down in your lap so he can press his thumb to your clit. You clench around him, and that just makes him thrust into you harder, rubbing tight circles into your clit.
You’re not gonna last long - not like this. It’s hot, and he feels so good, thick and heavy in your cunt, and the way he groans in your ear and licks at your neck makes you whine.
You can tell the Ghoul is getting close to from the way his hips start to stutter, pressing deeper into you, pace quickening. He yanks your head back by your hair and latches onto your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin.
He presses his lips to your ear, “Where do you want it, doll?”
“Inside,” you reply, tightening your legs around him. “Less cleanup. And I’ve got extra radaway.”
The Ghoul takes that to heart, pounding into you until you cum with a sharp whine. It doesn’t take him long to finish after you, spilling himself deep inside you. He pulls out, cock soaked and softening slowly, but he’s not done with you. He stuffs his fingers into your cunt to keep you full, pumping in and out, and keeps pressing down on your clit with his thumb. It’s teetering violently on the edge of too much, overstimulating you, but you cum again anyway, this time harder and louder from the aftershocks ripping through you.
You drop bonelessly to the desk when he pulls his fingers out, and you watch him idly through your comedown as he licks his own fingers clean.
After a beat, you clamber up onto your elbows. “You still want another contract?”
The Ghoul adjusts himself and zips up his pants, chuckling lowly. “I just fucked you stupid and you’re talking about work.”
You grab your shirt and pull it down over your head, climb down off the desk, and set to work pulling up your pants. “Gets boring around here - gotta keep you coming back somehow.”
He snorts. “Oh, babydoll, you’ll be begging to get rid of me if you keep that up.”
“Try me.”
“I could use another contract,” he says. The slow grin that spread across his face would give anyone else chills. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your little book out there.”
320 notes · View notes
htchnr · 16 hours
Text
♰ 'bout damn time ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚
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➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!
CW ➻ mention of being a little hungover ⋆ Cooper being rude to Lucy (as always) ⋆ lowkey lovesick Cooper ⋆ other than that not much ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!
PAIRING ➻ the same reader x Cooper relationship from this drabble series!
SUMMARY ➻ after a while of travelling, seems all Lucy had to do was get rid of the Vault suit. OR, many times Cooper is nice to you, and one time he isn't mean to Lucy. WC ➻ 750~.
AUTHORS NOTE ➻ i'm taking a short break from writing! no longer than a few weeks don't worry! college finals are getting closer, plus life's getting pretty busy so i could use all the time i can get to take it easy and not over work myself. so here have a cute silly fic before i go on break 😁
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!
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Lucy notices Cooper's deep care for you through both little things.
those things would include giving you the first cooked skewer of meat off a fire, (not before he takes a piece off to taste or see if it might make anyone (you) sick.) he always has you walking in front of him, then Lucy in front of you. wether he does this so he can stare at your ass all day, or to make sure he can always keep an eye on you she'll never know.
he lends you his hat from time to time, mainly when your headaches are bad or he notices you could use some cover from the harsh sun of California. Lucy's even seen Cooper lend you his duster if it's particularly cold at night. hell, he even allows you to snuggle up to him for extra warmth. she mainly thinks he allows this so he can keep better watch on you, but a small part inside her thinks that he likes the comfort of your body against his.
despite him knowing you can more than handle yourself in a fight he always puts himself first, as if to scope out any possible things that could happen and catch whatever bad things come first.
and perhaps the thing Lucy has grown to adore the most, is watching Cooper wordlessly extend a hand to you — wether you fall behind a little and he reaches to hold your hand, or to help you get up. it almost feels like she's invading something intimate and personal when she catches glimpses of the actions.
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the market is loud and busy, full of people buying and selling a wide range of things. you had moved through town in the hopes for a hotel, the last bounty having paid more than enough for a few nice nights of sleep.
"hey, you need anythin'?" Cooper asks from beside you as the three of you walk through a busy market. "i'll do an extra poke 'round for whatever."
you nod, "i'm good i think," you reply, and Cooper looks at you with that 'yeah sure' look, as if to nudge you to think harder. looking down at your thin coat, you sigh, "okay.. maybe if you can find a better coat anywhere? winter's coming up and it would be very nice of you?" you smile at him, another warm autumn breeze blowing past.
he nods, scarred fingers rolling the caps around in his coat pocket. "well i would like some-" Lucy speaks up.
"zip it Vaultie, didn't ask." he huffs, raising a hand to pat your shoulder. "i'll be back," he nods to you, looking over your shoulder to give Lucy a sour, unamused look.
you nod back, "if we're not here in a bit we'll probably be back at the hotel, my feet are killing me and last night at the bar was too much," you groan, rolling your shoulders. Cooper nods, walking off.
you huff with a small smile before moving along the market stalls to peruse for more med supplies. Lucy scoffs behind you, walking up to your side. you look over to her, brows twitching with tired curiosity. "hm?" you hum, as if asking her what's up.
she shrugs, "how does he keep doing it?" she asks, her face displaying her confusion and frustration.
you shake your head, looking over at a stall. "what do you mean?"
"switching like that," she adjusts her backpack. "he's shockingly nice with you, asking you if you need anything, then when i pitch in all of that is gone and he snaps," she huffs.
you wave her off, "it's nothing personal," you reply, eyes glued to a stall selling a bunch of clothes. "well, probably anyway." you pull Lucy along with you, stopping before the stall. "you know what might lessen his snappy-ness towards you?" you turn to her, her big doe eyes blinking back at you.
"what?" she answers.
"getting rid of that Vault suit." you point to the massive crate full of clothes. "pick a few things out, i'll pay, and we'll call it a uh, little experiment, yeah?"
she thinks for a minute, the Vault suit did have it's benefits, but it was also a blaring neon sign telling people where she's from. which Lucy has learned the hard way that that's usually not beneficial anymore. she nods, hands moving to start sifting through the pile of clothes.
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the sun has long since set by the time the two of you got back to the hotel. you had briefly looked around the market for Cooper, but upon not finding him you decided to just head back to the hotel. you sluggishly walked up the steps, occasionally eyeing Lucy's new clothes. it sure took some getting used to, not having that hideous Vault suit to look at.
you stepped up the final stair, walking through the short hall until you reached the door of the room you were renting. you unlocked the door, finding Cooper lounging on a chair in the corner of the room. "hey," you offer, letting Lucy walk in before closing and locking the door.
Lucy eyed Cooper as you two came it, watching for any change in his expression. yet, she got nothing.
he groans as he gets up, grabbing his hat and chucking it on the bed you and him shared. he reached for something that laid on the bed, then chucked it your way. you caught the item, moving it around in your hands — a thick coat.
you grinned, "thank you! it looks my size too!" you put on the coat, grinning as it fits almost perfectly.
he cracks a small smile, nodding. "not a problem, dollface."
Lucy looks between the two of you, watching as you take the coat off and throw it over a chair. you set down your heavy bag and pull your boots off, throwing yourself face first into the bed. god that feels good, you think to yourself.
Cooper huffs, throwing his duster over your new(ish) coat. "c'mon move those legs, else you're sleepin' on the floor." Lucy's eyes widen, he'd never, right? though the tone in his voice doesn't hold an ounce of seriousness. well, just the part where he asked you to move.
you groan into the mattress, mumbling something he can't hear. "c'mon, move it doll," he grunts as he kneels on the bed, strong, scarred hands gripping your thighs as he shoves you to one side of the bed and goes to lay down not before landing a crude slap on your ass. he rests his head against the headboard, his hat tipped forward to cover his eyes.
you let out a long, tired sigh, turning to face him. you lay beside him, hands idly fiddling with one of his belts. you lean in closer, voice hushed. "y'know," sleep lacing your voice. "managed to get her to ditch the suit, it'd be nice if you would say something,"
Cooper's hairless brows furrow as he sighs. you let out a yawn, nudging your head against his shoulder as you slowly drift asleep, hands merely resting against his hip.
Lucy always finds herself quietly observing you two, watching the little strangely affectionate gestures between you and the man who seems to have it out for her. like now, she watches him sigh deeply, before lightly shaking his head.
"hey Vaultie?"
Lucy nearly jumps at the sound of his voice, even though it's quiet as to not wake you.
"yeah?" the corners of her lips almost twitching.
"'bout damn time you got rid of it."
Lucy's lips pull into a small smile. the comment might not have meant much to anyone else, but to her it was neutral, rather than his usual hostility. and she'll take any win, no matter how small.
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bountydroid · 1 day
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Darlin' pt 7
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pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 6
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (SMUT)
Description: After a close call Cooper gives in to his feelings for Reader.
Notes: This chapter is half smut. For those who don’t want that I don’t think you’d miss anything of importance in the story if you skip it.
TW: p in v, unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, pretty vanilla (sorry pervs lol love you I'm just not good at smut).
His scarred lips were rough against mine, one of his hands on my hip the other tangled in my hair. This was a moment I dreamed about my entire life. Someone who cares about me was never something I thought I’d have. While having a couple of fleeting flings here and there with my brother's friends, I never had a true romance. This feeling? It was straight out of one of my novels. When he finally pulled away, I couldn't help but let out a breathy sound of dissatisfaction. He gave me a teasing smile before taking the vials from my hand and shoving them into his bag.
"Let's go find you some Radaway, Darlin'. We’ll have ya feelin' better in no time." He said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the building.
"Thank god Lucy left the door open." I thought to myself as we made our way inside. 
The place was huge and felt like a relic of the past. The rundown storefronts and flickering lights left much to be desired. I pushed my body against Cooper's back as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Noticing my discomfort, he gave my hand a small reassuring squeeze. He was still in bad shape, clear as day, as he stumbled through the building.
After some exploration, we came across a room full of bodies. "Didn't know Lucy was capable of this." I gasped.
"I imagine these fellas did most of it." He said, kicking the boot of one of the men on the ground. He was holding a gun, but it didn't seem to have done him much good. While Cooper scanned the bodies, looking for anything of value, I started to wander over to some of the other rooms. One room in particular caught my eye, some of the things inside reminding me of the medical center we found Roger in.
"Don't go far," Cooper said as he huffed another vial before rummaging through the men's pockets.
"I won't," I mumbled as I looked back at him one more time before entering the room. I swallowed nervously as I looked around the room before setting my sights on some drawers in a cabinet. After some searching, I could some syringes with the word "Radaway" written on the side. 
"Found some!" I said happily as I made my way back to Cooper to find him shoving vials of Jet into his hat. “That's so much!" I yelled in shock.
The happiness radiating from the two of us could have probably lit up a city. He looked up at me with the biggest smile I have ever seen on him before his eyes flitted to the syringe in my hand. He dropped his hat on the ground as he held out his hand expectantly. 
"Let me help you with that." He stated.
I was perfectly capable of injecting myself, but I liked the idea of Cooper taking care of me, so after a moment of hesitation I passed it to him. While he was looking over the syringe, almost like he was making sure it wasn't fake, I took the time to look over his face. REALLY look it over. His leathery tan skin and his beautiful hazel eyes. I knew that many people looked at him with disgust, but I don't think that after getting to know him I could ever think of him as anything other than beautiful. I was so lost in thought I barely registered the needle going into my arm.
"There," He said with a satisfied tone. "All better."
"Thanks, Coop." I beamed up at him. I had some Radaway, Cooper had a lot of Jet, and he finally kissed me. Everything felt perfect. 
Cooper knelt down to pick back up his hat when something caught his eye. A rectangular black box with glass on the front. 
"What is that?" I asked curiously.
"That, darlin'." He responded, a look of shock on his face, "That is a television."
I ruminated on the word, trying to figure out if I knew it from anywhere as he grabbed something and inserted it into the television. He slowly made his way to the couch and plopped down. The expression on his face was something I couldn't recognize. Amazement? I sat down next to him as I looked at the television curiously, whatever it was it was affecting Cooper. The box sprang to life, lighting up as he pressed a button on the controller he was holding. The television played a video. "Of course!" I thought to myself as I remembered the stories of moving pictures. The man on the video reminded me a lot of Cooper. The western attire, the confidence, and of course the gun he was holding. 
"Reminds me of you," I said innocently, not realizing the weight of my words.
"Nah, He ain't nothin' like me." He said quietly before looking over at me to scan my face before looking back at the video.
The man in the video was talking and I was trying to pay attention, I really was, but It was so long since I had sat anywhere but the ground, and while under normal circumstances I would call the couch uncomfortable, it felt like the most comfortable thing in that moment. I put my head on Cooper's shoulder and yawned. 
"Tired already, sugar?" Cooper teased.
"Maybe a lil' bit," I admitted. "I could stay up a bit longer, though."
"For what?" He mused, almost like he knew what I was thinking. 
I giggled, blush coating my cheeks as I whispered, "Maybe some more kissing?"
He hummed happily before pulling me onto his lap. I yelped in surprise at his sudden movement, grasping at his shoulders. “Now why would you want to kiss lil’ old me?” He was mostly joking, but an undertone of seriousness hung in the air.
“A better question is why wouldn’t I want to kiss you, Cooper? You are strong, you take care of me, you are handsome-“ I started to explain.
He scoffed, interrupting me. “I ain’t handsome.”
“You are!” I try to explain, “You have pretty eyes.” I said like I did days ago, back when he barely tolerated me. “And the way ya hold yourself is very… sexy.”
His eyes snapped up to mine, they were darkening, hungry. The embarrassment coursed through me and I could hardly stand it, so I buried my face in his neck.
“Awww getting shy, sugar?” He mocked. Before I could respond I felt his lips on my cheek. He stayed there for a moment before he started trailing down my neck, leaving tiny kisses in his wake.
I sighed happily as I pushed myself closer to him. I could’ve stayed that way forever, but Cooper had other plans. His hands were still on my hips from when he pulled me onto him. He slowly started to massage them before pressing me harder down on his lap. I let out a sound that was a mixture between a yelp and a moan.
“You like that?” He whispered in my ear.
I shook my head yes, my face still hidden in his neck.
“I wanna see you, darlin’.” He stated, his southern drawl slurred. He wasn’t demanding it, the tone in his voice was soft and hesitant, like he was worried he was going to scare me off.
Holding my breath I slowly pushed myself up. I was sure my face was red as a tomato as I made eye contact with him. When our eyes met, it felt like a damn had been released, lust flowing through me. “Coop,” I whisper before I start moving my hips on my own.
He let out a growl as he squeezed at my plush hips. “So soft.” He said.
“All for you, I’m all for you,” I say before crashing my lips into his.
The kiss was heady and passionate, I felt like I was drowning in him.
“Too many clothes,” I mumble against his mouth. Before I started to tug at his tattered duster jacket.
“I agree,” he sighed. Instead of helping me with his jacket, he ripped my hands from him and quickly tugged off my shirt, almost tearing it in the process. He sucked in a breath as he took in my bare chest. It was a sight to behold. Hair messy, half naked, and pupils blown. There was no way he could question if I wanted him, not anymore.
“God damn.” He groaned before leaning forward to kiss my chest. It’s like he wanted to kiss every inch of my body and I was starting to get impatient.
“Stop your teasin’,” I grumbled out, tugging at his jacket again.
This time, he obliged, quickly shucking it off before his hands started fumbling at his vest buttons. I cursed at him for wearing so many layers. I took this time to slide off his lap to take off my boots and pants, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. His hands stuttered as he threw off his vest and pulled off his shirt, distracted by the view in front of him.
“You, sugar, are way too good for me.” He muttered, his hands reaching out to pull me back onto his lap.
I moaned at the feeling of his rough jeans rubbing against me through my underwear. I could feel myself getting wetter, smearing my arousal on his pants. I rubbed my hands down his scarred chest before finding myself fiddling with his buckle.
“You want me?” I asked as I bit my lip. “Then take me.”
This seemed to flip a switch in him as he quickly spun me around so my back was on the couch. He hovered over me before kissing me fervidly. I undid his belt before popping open the button on his pants. He briefly pulled away from me to pull on his pants completely before slotting himself back on top of me.
“Darlin’,” he moaned as he rubbed his erection against my core.
I was so lost in the feeling I could barely respond, “Yeah?” I moaned out.
“There was more Radaway, right?” He asked. It was sweet that even in his lustful state he was still worried about me.
“Yes, Coop.” I responded, “Now fuck me already.”
He chuckled before mocking me, “So eager.”
He continued to tease me as he slowly pulled down my underwear, kissing down my legs as he went. I started to get dizzy, the arousal was becoming too much to bear. Finally, he pulled my panties off completely, kissing his way back up my body. I widened my legs as far as they could go, silently beckoning him inside of me. I heard him curse under his breath before slowly pushing himself into me. We let out moans in tandem, reveling in the feeling.
I put my hand on the back of his head and pulled him down so our foreheads were knocking against each other. I looked deeply into his eyes before I started to plead, “Fuck me, Cooper. Make me feel good. Please!”
“I could never say no to you.” He whispered before sheathing himself completely, his head brushing against that sweet spot inside of me.
He gave me a peck on the lips before trailing down my neck again, sucking as he went. The idea of having marks on me that everyone would see made me moan loudly. He was claiming me as his. I started to wiggle, silently begging him to move. After a few moments, he gave in, starting slow. It was intimate, sweet even. He wasn’t fucking me he was making love to me. He had barely started but I was already a babbling mess. Repeating his name like a prayer I begged for him to go faster. It didn’t take long for him to oblige, picking up his pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room. The bodies on the floor were long forgotten as we got lost in each other.
“Y/n,” he groaned my name, causing me to squeeze around him. “Sugar, you keep feeling this good I’m not gonna last long.”
I was feeling too good to respond, letting out soft squeaks and moans as he pistoned in and out of me. He snaked his hand down my body to start rubbing at my clit, causing my body to tremble. I was close and he knew it, trying to get me to the edge before he arrived there himself.
“Cooper!” I cried out as I convulsed underneath him, succumbing to the pleasure. I could hear him swearing above me before he stilled, letting out one last moan as he came inside of me.
The both of us were breathing heavily. Saying we were exhausted would have been an understatement. He took a moment before starting to pull out of me. I let out a sad whimper at the lack of contact, grasping at his arms. He let out a breathy laugh at my actions. “I’ll be back.” He said, reassuring me. I watched him with half-lidded eyes as he went into the medical room for a moment before coming back to me with another syringe of Radaway.
I snorted, “That could have waited.”
He didn’t respond, instead opting to give me a smirk before sinking the needle into my arm. Once he was done he grabbed ahold of me, rolling us over so he was underneath me on the couch.
As he was rubbing reassuring circles on my back he told me, “Sleep, darlin’.”
I hummed happily into his chest before giving way to his request.
Tag list: @bruhidkjustwannaread @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @whizbang-cap @topiramateagreeable @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @fallout-girl219 @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie @fanfictiongirly23 @gobbodoggo @erissco @helveticabold @katgirl05 @tfamidoingwithmylife @miketastic25 @alex-does-art-things
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beskarandblasters · 3 days
Text
Fantasy Turned Reality
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader
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Part two for A Twisted Fantasy
Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist
Summary: The Ghoul finds you in the woods and punishes you for not running far enough.
Word count: 831
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, uneven power dynamic, oral sex (M receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, irradiated creampie, spanking, pet names (sweetheart), praising, no use of y/n
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You were so tired from all the running you did that you fell asleep in the same position; with your hand down your pants. But you didn’t even realize it until a stern voice shook you awake.
“Thought I told you to get the fuck away from here.”
You startle awake and lock eyes with the Ghoul, gulping as he cocks his head to the side, smirking at you menacingly. His eyes leave your face and trail down to the hand in your pants, chuckling as he asks, “What do we have here?”
“Nothing,” you quickly sputter, hastily trying to pull your hand away. But he stops you, his hand enclosing around your wrist.
“Not so fast. There’s three dangerous men after you and you’re worried about playing with yourself in the fuckin’ forest.”
Shamefully, you nod, looking away from him.
His other hand grabs your chin, directing your gaze back to him. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”
A shiver runs down your spine and the wetness in your cunt grows. Your fantasy may finally be coming to life.
“What were you thinking about?”
“…You.”
“Figures,” he tuts. “I can help you out regarding your little… situation. But first I think you need to be punished.”
“For what?!”
“For not running far enough away, sweetheart.”
He lets go of you, sitting on a large rock a few feet away. His thighs are spread wide in an inviting stance, leaving you aching to sit on his lap. He palms the bulge in his pants.
You sit up, jaw going slack at the sight of him sitting there. Your mind still can’t comprehend that this is actually happening.
“You know what to do,” he says, motioning for you to come closer.
You scramble to your feet, walking over to him and dropping to your knees. You’re face to face with his bulge, salivating at the thought of taking him in your mouth. He reaches out and caresses your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“Be a good girl for me.”
You nod and reach for the fly of his pants, letting his cock spring free. You take him in your mouth and wrap your hand around the base of his shaft. He curses under his breath, moving the hand on your face to the back of your neck. You look up at him, locking eyes with him as you bob your head up and down. His salty pre-cum leaks in your mouth, mixing with your saliva and making this blowjob wetter and sloppier by the second.
“Fuck, that mouth of yours, sweetheart. It’s perfect.”
You hum in response, sending a vibration down his cock and a shiver up his spine. He curses again and his grip on the back of your neck tightens. You feel him grow harder in your mouth and feel pride in how much you’re pleasing him. You know you can escalate it further so you take your other hand and reach for his balls, cupping them slightly as you work him to the edge. Your eyes remain locked with his, putting on a show for him like such a good girl.
His balls tense up in your hand and you sense he’s at the edge of orgasm. But before you can take him there he cups your face and pulls his cock out of your mouth.
“Wanna come inside that sweet pussy of yours,” he says.
You eagerly stand up, shedding your clothes and waiting for further instructions. He remains where he is and pats on his lap, telling you, “Take your throne, sweetheart.”
You straddle him on the rock and lower yourself onto his cock, feeling it expand your walks. One of his hands holds your waist while the other gravitates to your ass. He gives you a firm spank and says, “Better get to work,” coaxing you to rock your hips back and forth.
You grind yourself against him, placing your hands on his shoulders. His cock hits the deepest, most perfect angles inside you. And he watches with pleasure as you fuck yourself on his cock.
With one last movement of your hips you come undone around his cock, moaning out into the nighttime air. He spanks your ass again as you cum until the sensation draws his own orgasm from him.
“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises.
His cum paints your walls and finishes his orgasm with a grunt until his cock eventually goes soft inside you. Reluctantly, you pull yourself off of him and sit beside him. He turns to look at you with a grin and says, “Don’t worry, you won’t get pregnant. But I bet you knew that already.”
You nod, still breathless from your high. He returns his cock to his pants and stands up. With a hand on his hip he says, “Now, don’t let me catch you around these parts again.”
And with that, he leaves you naked and alone in the forest, with his cum dripping down your thigh.
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Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics
Dividers: @saradika-graphics
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sematarygirls · 2 days
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never in my life did i think i would be attracted to a 200 year old irradiated cowboy with no nose, but here we are
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leviathanleva · 2 days
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Daisy
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Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader
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Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.
But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...
🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼
Chapter 4 "The Plea"
You stretch and groan.
The sound comes out jumbled and is drowned out by the violent vibrating of the washing machine you’re perched upon. You strain your legs, flexing your thighs and working out the sleep from your numb muscles. Your toes squish against the inside of your boots before you relax and rub at your eyes, wiping away the tears your incessant yawns were causing.
You’d seen plenty of pictures of children hollering in front of a fan on a hot summer day, some sort of weird way to entertain themselves because the beat of the fins distorted their voices. It was a good commercial for any fan whenever summer rolled around. Sadly, now when you were free to wander and do as you pleased, much of the mundane experiences you wanted to dip your toes in were impossible to achieve. You were two hundred years too late. You took what you could get though, hence why you’d let curiosity guide you on top of the washing machine once it had started centrifuging.
The steaming coffee mug sat on the L-shaped kitchen counter just next to you and after a moment of being thoroughly jostled around, you picked it up with as much care as you could. Lips latched onto the edge of the mug with haste before you took a big sip, slurping audibly before the coffee could spill out from the violent thrashing causing your arm to quake.
Wet hair clung to your bare shoulders and the aromatic droplets of water dripped and soaked into your dress. It had taken you a good hour to get the ghoul inside the shower after you’d gotten out, all squeaky clean and smelling of lavender soap. How he managed to bear being a grimy crusty prune was beyond you, but as soon as the generator had kicked back to life and restored some power in the vault, you’d jumped at the idea of a nice hot shower.
His clothes were strewn on a dangling cable, as clean as they could get after being worn for who knows how long without a proper wash. Some stains persisted and the washing machine couldn’t do anything about the faded colors, but at least they didn’t smell of death anymore.
He’d dismissed your proposal to launder his rags at first, bumped the butt of his shotgun against your stomach hard enough to make you wheeze and still you hadn’t relented. It was the least you could do, you’d said, begged even. After everything he’d done for you, you wanted to repay him outside of the hefty tato sack stuffed to the brim with bloody Pip-boys and medical supplies and provisions. You’d chewed at his ear until he’d given up with a sigh and hidden behind the shower curtain before tossing his clothes at you layer by layer.
In truth, you just wanted to prolong his departure. Thinking of anything and everything because you didn’t want to be left alone in this haunted vault, you’d come up with ploy after ploy and the power coming back had only aided you in your private battle. So traumatized by the last day that you clung to him even if he was a demented, deadly wastelander probably no better than the raiders he’d slaughtered.
Your sleep had been plagued with nightmares that night; grotesque sceneries of violence and gore were painted in detail over your closed eyelids, making you stir and whimper in your bed. The ghoul was a light sleeper, trained to spring into action at the slightest noise and you tossing and turning and making the bedframe creak gave him all the rights to chuck a cushion at you. He’d scared you half to death with that, but the reminder that he was still there, grumbling on the couch and trying to catch a wink of rest, had given you enough comfort to sleep peacefully for a few hours.
When the washing machine stilled, your reminiscing ended.
You tipped the mug, suckling at the last few drops of sweetened coffee, before setting it aside and hopping on your feet. After pulling the foggy lid open, you drape your socks and your old dress over your forearm and a scowl pinches at the corner of your lips.
Apparently, Abraxo wasn’t strong enough to wash away radroach intestines. You mourned the ruined dress, bitter with wasting the cleaning product for nothing, but decided to hang it up regardless and let it dry.
Who cared for stains anyway? You had bigger problems on your plate.
The screech of the shower tap and a curt whistle have you automatically groping at the ghoul’s clothes.
“Be right there, mister!” you call out and bunch them up in your hands, placing his hat over your head to save space, his coat is still damp but you doubt he’d mind. You skitter to the edge of the shower and leave the pile next to his weaponry before your manners lead you away to give him some privacy.
The half-empty coffee pot caught your attention once you were back in the bright yellow kitchen area. Despite your low tolerance and the apparent twitches in your fingers, you refilled your mug, deciding that adding sugar wasn’t needed this time.
You were free now, you could drink all the coffee you wanted.
Once the rustling of clothes and buckling of belts and straps ceased, the ghoul appeared from behind the wall, finding you sitting on the counter with ankles crossed and kicking your feet rhythmically. You beam at his slightly less disheveled state, eyes darting from him to the full mug waiting for him. He scoffs and accepts your silent offer.
“Feeling better?”
“Like a new man.” he declares with a sense of peace to his tone and leans back against the fridge before taking a long sip from his lukewarm drink.
Cooper was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. He’d caught on to your innocent scheme quickly. From the coffee to your constant close proximity, to washing his clothes. The biggest giveaway was you trying to hide your nervousness and biting back victorious smiles whenever he accepted any of your domestic offers. You were kneading him like sourdough, nice and good and gentle, hoping for something in his brain to click and his simple plan of taking his things and leaving to take a different course.
That’s why he fought against melting in the shower and suppressed a genuine smile when he saw the coffee. He kept his guard up, concrete walls so high one couldn’t see the top, locking away whatever humanity was left to rot, untouched and undisturbed. Joy was an illusion, peace was the quiet before the storm.
Nothing lasted, neither would you.
“Take me with you, I won’t be useless, I promise.”
He could almost hear those words twirling on the tip of your tongue, threatening to spill but never being voiced. Like hell, he’d ever entertain that idea.
“So what now, mister?” you ask casually, hiding pouty lips behind your mug and looking up at him in question. “Where you headed off to?”
“Well, – ” he rasps and clears his throat. “ – considering my bounty’s prob’ly dead. Gonna head off to Tillburry.” he nudges his chin at the sack resting by the exit of the suite. “Gonna sell some o’ that, make me some profit.”
Your vigorous slurping stops and you swallow the mouthful of bitterness before cocking your head.
“Tillberry?” you test the unfamiliar word with hesitation. “And that’s…what?”
“Tillburry.” he corrects and rests one foot against the fridge door, the spur on his boot clanking against the metal. “It’s a settlement, darlin’. Quite the big one too.” he mulled over a particular memory, looking down at his drink. “ ’Bout three hundred people last time I checked.”
“There are settlements?” you choke and cough out the spit tickling your throat with a fist to your mouth.
The thought that a good number of people had survived and were thriving enough to start rebuilding was unfathomable. Even if said settlements were based on the ruins and scraps of the cities from the old days it was still such a groundbreaking piece of knowledge.
Considering the raiders and the ghoul, you’d assumed everyone on the surface was deranged and out for blood. A man-eat-man nightmarish hell in which not even the strongest survived for long.
But no, there were people, honest hardworking people, that were coming together to build safe havens and restore some order to the chaos they had been born into. Sure, they had probably seen their fair share of hardships and were rugged and hard-skinned, but if they’d managed to keep the peace and grow towns and develop businesses, they couldn’t be that bad.
You had to see this. You needed to.
“Plen’y of em.” he pipes in, then tips his head and his voice acquires an almost mocking twinge. “Wasteland’s not as dead as you think, sweetheart.”
“Take me there.” you blurt out before even realizing it.
“Pardon?” he’s surprised for only a moment before his demeanor shifts to dangerously sharp and his eyes harden. He moves in an instant, large palms planted on either side of your thighs and you have to jerk back to avoid him smashing his forehead into yours. “Mind your fuckin’ tone with me, missy.”
When you squint and recoil, he eases, satisfied with your reaction.
“Just cuz I been toleratin’ you don’t mean I can’t stuff a bullet in your belly.”
“I’m sorry! Sorry, sir.” you rush to undo your mistake, having spent too much time with him while he was docile to remember that you weren’t dealing with a friendly neighbor. “I meant no disrespect.” with a lowered gaze and a lump in your throat you continue. “I’d just really like to see such a place…”
“And I’d like a fifty-acre ranch to breed horses.” he sneers at you, yellow teeth peeking under his chapped lips. He shifts his weight around, resting from one hip to the other as he pulls away just barely. His fingers still grip the counter, still around you and ready to subdue another fuss. “But we don’ always get what we want.”
“Maybe I could…live there?” you didn’t believe your own words, but you still persisted. Flickering lashes swatted over pity eyes as you stared at him like an expectant street cat waiting to be adopted.
A preposterous idea. You didn’t know the first thing about surviving on the surface, couldn’t tell a radroach burrow from an anthill, and yet however difficult it would be anything would be better than living by yourself in a hole in the ground. Maybe you would have managed if the raiders had just left and the ghoul never crossed your path. But now, after knowing the bliss of company, of a friend who didn’t talk about medicine and made-up cures, now you couldn’t.
You needed him and not just for his skills or his wisdom of living off a toxic land. You needed him for him, just the ghoul, just the man who’d shown you kindness.
“Sweetheart, you needed t’ read the manual before turnin’ on the washin’ machine.” he states in a very mocking matter-of-fact way and snorts with a half-smile. “Twice.”
“But I did it.” you say back, struggling against a lost battle but how could you not when there was a blueish limp hand peeking from beyond the complex exit.
He gives you a once over, considering for a second before shaking the thought away with a bitter glower.
What the hell was he even thinking?
“You don’t really fit in with the common folk.” he counters again and he’s confident that soon you’ll wane. “Don’ think they’ll take too kindly to you.”
“What’d you mean, mister?” you tilt to the side, leaning on one hand with a faint pout.
“Yer too clean.” he mumbles while skimming over you with a judgmental expression, his mouth pursing as he took you in. “Too pretty. Too kept.” he leans back to cross his arms, a half-frown of disapproval glooming over his face. It wasn’t a compliment; it was dry facts that he offered you to get through your thick skull that you’d be in more danger than you realize if you ever managed to reach a local town. “Surface dwellers don’ like your kind.”
“Then I’ll work on it until they like me.”
The back of your boots hit the counter each time you kicked your feet, egged on by the caffeine overdose. You kept your eyes glued to his because you didn’t know of a better way of pleading without sounding pathetic and getting on his nerves.
“You can’t even fire a gun, darlin’.” the ghoul sighs in defeat, not because you’re getting under his skin, but because you fight this ferociously for your demise.
Both of you are aware that you wouldn’t last long outside. You were defenseless and had no usefulness, you weren’t accustomed to radiation, and everything on the surface was soaked in it. Most available jobs either needed you to get your hands dirty or break your back with overtime and you’d nearly passed out after walking half a day in a desert and thrown up at the sight of a dead body.
He’d be damned if he let you abandon a life of comfort and security because you didn’t know what you were asking for. Letting go of constant food and fresh water and hot showers just because you were too scared to learn by trial and error on your own was too much for him. It was stupid and you rebelling against him tooth and nail made it worse.
You weren’t winning anything; you were just giving him a headache.
“Someone would be willing to teach me.” the naivety in your comeback makes him laugh and your brows rise and furrow at his reaction.
“Ain’t nobody gonna do shit for free.” that was his last pushback before he made up his mind on ending your charade. His hat dipped and his tone lowered to an even rasp. “You’ll be just fine here, darlin’.” he takes a few steps back and chugs the remainder of his discarded coffee before grunting in satisfaction. “Good cup o’ coffee…Now be a dear ‘n show me the way out.”
“I could make you more if you stayed a bit longer, mister.”
A drowning man’s attempt to keep from sinking.
You give him a tiny smile and roll your ankles to release some tension. You knew you were pushing it, from his stiff shoulders to his thinned upper lip, but you didn’t want to stay here anymore. Disregarding the steady supply of provisions and the regulated temperatures, the medical supplies and the safety. You wanted to go with him. Wherever he went, no matter the danger, you want to be in his shadow. The radroaches and raiders forgotten, ignorant of just how hostile his world was and selfish by continuing to thrust your life in his hands when he didn’t want it.
“Das enough, darlin’.” he mutters while picking up the supply sack and flinging his bandolier over his shoulder.
“What if – ”
“– Enough!” your mouth shuts at his command. His glare is piercing while he stands by the door with his back turned to you, giving you only a stern side-eye. “Move.”
You slide off the counter without another word and pat down your dress, not that anything could be seen underneath the thick tights but common decency forced you to. He waits for you, motioning with his hand once you're by his side and you walk forward, through the dingy corridor and past the raider he’d gutted the day before.
You try not to look, but it’s difficult when the deep red hues contrast with the metallic white of the wall and floor. It’s an abominable sight. There’s a cut spanning over the entirety of the man’s neck, horizontal and precise, so deep that amidst the flesh and blood, you see bone.
You could almost simulate the pain and you struggled to swallow.
He was a raider… he was a criminal. He was a bad man, he’d tried to murder you and failed by just an inch, the ghoul did what he had to do. There would be plenty more with much the same mindset if he agreed to take you with him. Scenes like this would probably be a daily occurrence, but you wouldn’t be the one doing the killing and still seeing the raider nearly decapitated scarred something deep within you.
Were you really willing to go through this again just to stay with the ghoul?
Maybe, for him, maybe.
“Fuckin’ piss stain…”
You look to him at that remark, then down at the center of his attention. He had one foot set in a puddle of blood and pieces of flesh, both attached to an unmoving vault dweller. He wiped his boot in the corpse’s suit and spat with malice.
 “You really don’t like this place, mister?” it’s more of a statement than a question, but your quizzical expression gives him enough room to reply.
You had noticed his visible disdain once he’d first entered the vault with you, but you’d blamed it on him being an experienced bounty hunter who knew better than to let his guard down. Then you’d seen his complete lack of empathy for the dead bodies littering the hallways and even a drop of anger edging his default scowl. He had a personal vendetta against the inhabitants, a distaste that went so deep he’d preferred to sever the wrists of the corpses over just unclasping their Pip-boys and claiming them for himself.
You’d never brought it up because it wasn’t your place, but now you had a reason to, and your curiosity was peaked.
“Vaults ain’t my thing, darlin’, nor vaulties.” he speaks with spite, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips when he raises his gaze to you. Then he kicks the mess out of his way without a hint of shame, splashing the gore over the floor, and continues after you.
“Why?” you peep and it’s so innocent and light because you don’t understand the gravitas of the answer you’re reaching for.
There’s a small pause as you glance at the ghoul with a blank visage. There’s a certain lethargy to your step and a bounce to your slack shoulders because you’re relaxed and clear-minded and you have no idea just what you’re asking him. He could be angry, you’re poking around topics that are beyond your capacity, ones of resentment and shrewd grudges that span over such a long time that you couldn’t even begin to imagine.
But he wasn’t upset, there was no point. You were just a stupid little thing trying to sow a light chat before your paths diverged.
The memories are knocking on the front door of his consciousness, but he refuses to indulge them. Not now, maybe later when he was alone and could recollect everything in peace.
“That ain't none o’ your business.” his words are snippy but his tone is placid, he doesn’t even reciprocate your prying eyes, just stares straight ahead with a tense jaw.
His reluctance to delve deeper and the shift in the air give you a good enough hint to not press the matter further. You would have reached to pat his arm, a benevolence he undoubtedly deserved along with so much more, but refrained from doing so. Despite you having placed him on a golden pedestal for all he’d done for you, which wasn’t much, but enough to leave you with an unforgettable impression, he didn’t see you in the same manner. His life had hardened him both physically and emotionally, he hadn’t even trusted you to sleep together in the same suite, having tucked one of his pistols under his pillow with a finger on the trigger.
You’d seen it, you just didn’t mention it.
He didn’t need your pity nor your good-heartedness, he didn’t care and that’s why you kept from overstepping even if you wanted to comfort the restless beasts pacing somewhere within his being.
“You’ve been nice to me though.” you put forth a honeyed smile and steered the conversation to a lighter note. A small sugary quip to oppose his hardened exterior and alleviate him of his hissy mood.
He chuckles, a raspy chortle that tickles your ear and curls your lips into a grin.
“Ain’t nice, missy, just tolerant.”
Your chirpy chat continues as you pass through the whey field and into another brightly lit tunnel. He doesn’t have to know that you could have led him to the elevator three times already through a shortcut. You like him, harbor such fondness for him in all his gruffness, you might have agreed to lead him out but you never said you wouldn’t take the scenic route. An extended detour while you continuously banter with each other and you always relent because you want him to be happy with having the upper hand in the conversation.
But no matter how long you tried to prolong the inevitable, eventually, you found the way to the elevator. Before it had been your savior, taking you away from those vile people before they could sink their grimy claws in your flesh. Now it was an unwelcome vestige, the last step before the ghoul left and you were abandoned to waste away in an underground prison.
He entered first and leaned against the steel wall, a thumb tucked in his belt and hat tipped over his eyes. You turn your back to him and press the button and it’s suddenly awkward and silent.
You wished the damn thing moved slower, but it propelled up, passing by vault levels within a blink. Such a cruel construct…
Misery didn’t thrive for long, you didn’t let it.
Maybe one day you’d meet him again. You’d learn to shoot a gun, there had to be at least one stashed somewhere for emergencies, then you’d learn to sustain yourself and grow crops, fiddle with the mechanisms of the vault and read every book and article and document regarding medicine. You’d prepare well and one day leave again to explore the world outside and maybe if fate was kind, you’d run into him on your journey.
Maybe he wouldn’t remember, maybe he would, but you’d be happy all the same.
And you’d be different then, stronger and more independent and not useless. Maybe he’d take you with him when you proved that you wouldn’t be a burden anymore. He’d take you on his adventures and teach you how to be a bounty hunter like him and you’d make the best duo the surface has ever seen.
Your self-assurance dwindled when the elevator reached the top level and the door slid open. He walked out unbothered and you struggled to keep the calm façade going.
It wasn’t healthy to form such attachments so quickly, but it happened and you were torn between begging him one last time and giving him the solace he craved. But could you really be blamed when you’d known only solitude?
He stood at the vault entrance and tossed you a slow, expectant look and you fiddled with the Pip-boy. Stiff fingers scrolled through the menus, determined to take as much time as possible while you prayed for a miracle. Your pleas remained unanswered, the time for stalling ended as the gate screeched and rolled to the side. A hot gust of wind crept through, drying your eyes and making your throat scratchy after a few silent breaths.
“Best of luck, vaulty.”
He raised his arm and flicked his wrist in a goodbye after readjusting his hat, boots clinking as he set forth with an even pace. You watched him leave, heart asunder, mouth cracked open but no words came out. Gripping onto the control panel, frustration flaring, desperation so intense it made the hairs on your arms lift up.
Was this really it? Was this the end of it? Was this the last time you saw him? The only friend you had, the only person you knew, the only warmth ever given to you.
He could let go without a second thought, but you couldn’t.
“Go…GO!”
A shaky step, then another.
With each step, the quake in your legs eased, determination overpowering hesitation, and before you knew it you were jogging and then running. The sand wasn’t kind to your shoes, you nearly tripped, wide strides bringing you closer to him because, unlike his tempo, yours held intention.
He knew you’d do this, he knew and he had the common sense to pull out his pistol and threaten you back inside.
You might have tumbled him over if you had the strength, but instead, you splat yourself against his back and drape your arms around his abdomen. His hand faltered, resting on the holster of his gun as you squeezed him and slid your fingers past his coat, grabbing at his vest.
“Please.” you force through a clenched throat, choosing to beg him instead of breathing. Saliva pools in your mouth and tears form in the back of your eyes as you press your cheek against his spine. Your eyes squeeze shut as if cutting off your vision would make you deaf to his answer. “Please…I’ll – ”
He’d taken what he needed, completing your transaction and wanting nothing more, but maybe you could find something else he had use for. He sighs and you’re so regretful, but you can’t let it go without a final push.  And he’s fed up enough to maybe just shoot you, but if he was you’d have a chance at bargaining again and keep him around for a few more minutes.
“ – I’ll pay you.” you sniffle back the runny mucus seeping through your nostrils and swallow a mouthful of thick spit, it distorts your voice just a bit. “Please take me to Tillberry. I’ll find a job – I’ll – You can have everything I earn, I just need enough to buy some food.”
“Tillb – ” he grunts and pinches the space between his eyes as they shut.
He wanted to rip you off of him and leave, with no mercy and no care, but you just had to play nice. You had to play house with him and make him coffee and wash his clothes and be soft with him. The sweet gestures and light words did things to him, he was no fool, they reminded him that humans still existed and they were still kind. A peek into the past.
“I won’t be useless. I’ll learn quick and stay out of your way and do anything you ask…Just until the settlement.”
Whines and sobs and sniveling sniffs and chokes, they crawl up his skin like maggots and try to burrow and find an ounce of empathy, but he has none.
“Right.” he whirls around with such force that if it hadn’t been for the iron grip he clasped over your jaw, you would have fallen. He’s an eyelash away from your face, with a fowl snarl carving into his gaunt features and he spats poison at you. He speaks the truth. “Do you fucking know what the hell you’re asking for?” he’s so pissed that his accent dissipates. “You’re gonna fuckin’ die out here. With or without help.”
“Plea – ”
“ – I ain’t no God damned babysitter!” he snaps and forces you back. You stumble and curl your hands over your chest instinctively as he points his pistol at you, forefinger on the trigger. “Now get the hell outta my sight.”
His lips pinch in annoyance when you don’t move.
He didn’t give a damn if you lived or not, but you’d shown him respect and generosity and he repaid you by not shooting you down on the spot. He gave you a chance at survival, exterminated the pests in your home and made sure to leave enough provisions to live off of while you worked out how to take care of yourself. You wouldn’t receive half of what he’d done for you in the wasteland, it was a cutthroat fever dream that no one could wake up from.
Precious things lived in castles, not in the wilds.
But then you finally move. You move and it’s the wrong fucking way.
The tip of the gun glosses over your cheek as you enclose trembling fingers around his wrist and his sleeve is pulled back enough for you to find his skin, marred and leathery and disgusting and safe and wonderful. Your eyes close and press into his glove as the barrel rests against your bare shoulder and all it would take was a click and you’d be dead.
“Please, mister.”
You sink to your knees, bringing his arm down with you.
A lost little dove, fluttering in his palm, trusting and willing and kneeling at the gates of hell because it already knew what heaven was. Or maybe it didn’t, maybe you knew a different hell he was unfamiliar with so you begged for his instead of going back to your own.
“I’ll do anything…”
He’d seen plenty of people beg for their lives, for food or water or help. He’d heard it all, from bargaining to taunting, reverse psychology, and manipulation tactics all in the name of living to see another sunrise. This was the first time anyone had ever pleaded for him.
He should have left yesterday, the moment you’d found the storage unit he should have taken his things and been on his way. He should have tried to find the exit while you were sleeping and never looked back. He should have done more, everything in his power to not be in this damnable situation. You fed something within him, a slumbering behemoth forgotten over time, you sated a need he’d developed so long ago, a need so constant he didn’t realize was there anymore until you.
“Get the hell up.” he grips your arm like the brutish man he is, pulls you to your feet, and spins you around like a puppet.
You don’t fight, drained by both the searing sun and your turbulent emotions, letting him latch his hand to the back of your neck and drag you forward, back to the vault.
Back to solitude. Back to hell.
“Three hundred caps.”
You muster an inquisitive hum and dare to steal a glimpse of his expression. It’s haggard, annoyed, defeated.
“For your safe transportation t’ Tillburry.” he offers you nothing, not even a peak, but his hold on your neck tightens and you wince. “Now use your fuckin’ legs. We’re loosin’ daylight.”
🌼 Masterlist 🌼
Tag list: @bountydroid @windierhades @ultimatereality @gruffle1 @v3lv3tf0x @fallout-girl219 @one-of-thewalkingdead
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forever-rogue · 1 day
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you asked for fallout request, so here i am, eagerly writing this…
i’ve been craving a cooper howard x reader oneshot where him and the reader are navigating through life in their own way. maybe a run in with tricky people?? angst?? fluff??? it’s up to you best friend. THANK YOU!!!
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AN | Alright, let’s goooo. First go around with Cooper and we had to go with some fluff because that is my specialty. I’ve loved Fallout for a long time and I love the show too❤️
Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader
Warnings | language; gun violence
Word Count | 3k
Masterlist | Main 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You weren't sure if you'd call yourselves friends.
More like…an unwitting duo of sorts. Unwitting on your end more than anything.
You'd promised him that you absolutely didn't need company or anyone to assist you. He'd insisted that the only way he'd let you go on your own was over his dead body. You'd contemplated that idea for a few moments. Given his reputation, you decided not to push him too much.
The realization that he was a stubborn old man who wasn't going to change his mind was the only reason he was still next to you. Begrudgingly, mind you.
“How much further, darlin’?” His deep voice cut through your internal monologue and you shot a glare in his direction, “I'm starting to think you're not the best judge of distance.”
“If you're just going to complain,” you pointed over your shoulder back to the last town you'd passed through, “you're more than welcome to go back and terrorize that town. I told you that I didn't need you to come with me.”
“And why would I listen to you, huh?” He rolled his eyes lightly as you scoffed, “you'd be dead before the sun went down, sweetheart.”
“So what?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards so you could face him, “why do you care?! You don't even like me!”
“Contrary to what you believe, I do have somewhat of a conscience,” his voice was gruff but somewhat soft, “and if I let you go and then heard that you were killed, I'd be a little annoyed.”
“Why?” 
“Because I’ve already saved your life once,” he so sweetly reminded you as you sighed heavily, “and I didn't just save your life so you could go and be killed by someone else.”
“Ain’t that sweet? You’re a modern day prince,” you mocked his twang as his expression refused to shift. It was almost annoying how unfazed he remained the majority of the time, “I had it handled. You happened to come at an inconvenient time.”
“If that's what helps you sleep at night,” he had to fight to hold back a laugh as you turned back around and you marched in front of him, making it a point not to look back at him. He had to be the most infuriating person you'd ever met. He'd had two hundreds years to perfect being annoying and he had done exceedingly well.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The two of you had been traveling together for a number of days. You'd managed not to kill each other, luckily, but otherwise things had remained mostly the same. Silence, and if it wasn’t silence, it'd be harsh words and fast quips.
You didn't hate him - not really. You hated the idea that anyone, let alone a man, believed that you needed help. You'd had things handled and would have kept yourself safe. He'd just happened to come fight when you were in the midst of either killing or getting killed. 
He wasn't going to let that go anytime soon. That much you already knew about him.
“It’s cold,” you announced as the two of you made camp for the night. You pulled your jacket tighter around your frame but it was no use, “I’m cold. Can we make a fire?”
“That, princess, is one of the many reasons you need someone out there to keep an eye on you,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost have thought that he was being kind - nice. 
“Listen,” you sat down and leaned against one of the trees near the clearing you’d decided to call home for the evening, “I know it’s not exactly safe or the best idea, but I’d rather do that than freeze.”
“It ain’t even that cold,” he mused, stripping off his overcoat and tossing it over to you. You made a sound of surprise, but didn’t hesitate to put it on, “life really was different for you, wasn’t it? I’d say it was almost as easy as those vaulties had it.”
“It wasn’t…” you knew he wasn’t wrong. You’d come from a place of privilege, having been born into a family with wealth, new world wealth anyway, and had it pretty easy for a surface dweller. You’d lived in a large, well stocked and safe home with people around to do your bidding. Those were some of the perks of having a father that was some sort of merchant prince, “it wasn’t like that.”
“Yeah?” he rolled out his bedroll, a bitter laugh escaping him, “sounds like you had nothing to do and everything done for you.”
“I mean…” you trailed off, knowing it was futile to lie to him. He’d known your father after all; Cooper Howard was the one sent to fetch you and return you home once your father had found out you’d run away, “it was…good sometimes. There were a lot of bad times too. But I still know how to do things for myself. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.”
“Huh,” he grabbed a vial and downed it one go, his eyes never leaving your face, “guess that makes you a killer. Just. Like. Me.”
“I did what I had to do,” you swallowed thickly, blinking back tears that threatened to well up. Cooper knew that you had run away, but he didn’t know the full extent of what had happened to cause you to run away, “and we’re here.”
“Tell me what happened,” your eyes snapped to him as you tried to weigh his words in order to see if he was being serious or not. He’d never really taken an interest into your personal life, but you wondered if that was because he genuinely didn’t care or if he’d just created some sort of creed for himself that didn’t allow him to get close to anyone, “what made you run away from your sweet little life, darlin’?”
“Cooper,” you wiped your hands on your thighs and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. You’d never really said his name before and that caught him off guard, “does it really matter?”
“It’s still buggin’ you, clearly,” he mirrored your position and crossed his arms over his chest, “and we ain’t got nothing but time.”
You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling and looking at the sky. You could feel his attention still focused on you, “my father told me that there was a man I was going to marry. I told him no and he told me that I didn’t have a choice. Said man found me shortly before the wedding was supposed to happen and he…he tried to…”
You paused for a moment, wiping away the tears that had unwittingly rolled down your cheeks. Cooper’s gaze had darkened but he was still watching; the expression on his face looked like he was ready to commit murder.
“He didn’t get a chance to do anything,” you said softly, “I killed him before he could. But he managed to get me a little bit when he was trying to fight me off. That’s why I had a black eye and all the bruises.”
“Darlin’-”
“I didn’t hesitate, Coop,” your expression steeled as you looked him in the eyes, “and I won’t hesitate now. A man will never tell me what to do. And I don’t need anyone thinking I need someone to protect me.”
Cooper had been listening with rapt attention, his mind already thinking of the things he could do to your father.  Bringing you back to him definitely wasn’t one of those things. He’d made up his mind about that almost the moment he’d met you. You’d been sporting a black eye and cut lip, dried blood caked on your hands and arms. He was smart enough to put two and two together.
“For what it’s worth,” he looked back at you with the gentlest expression you’d seen on him, “I’m sorry for what you had to go through. Those are not men, those are monsters.”
“And you’re going to bring me right back to him,” it was a question presented as a statement. You weren’t entirely sure what his plan with you was; you’d been scared to ask. But he also wasn’t hadn’t mentioned a word of bringing you back to your father, “aren’t you?”
“I ain’t bringing you back,” he admitted and you couldn’t keep the surprise off your face, “I never was. I’ve been around a long time, little girl. I know what your father is. I figured it was a better option for me to find you than someone else.”
“You’re not?” you hated how small your voice sounded; how you almost sounded scared. In a way you were. Scared of going back to the place that you hated and would surely make sure you suffered, but you were also scared of forging a new path. You didn’t really know where you were going or what you were going to, “really?”
“On one condition,” of course. You waved your hand, motioning for him to go, “you admit that you have no clue where we’re going and we’ve basically been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”
You tried to look serious for a moment, but you couldn’t help but start to laugh at how well he could already read you. Cooper was so taken aback by the soft, sweet sound that he couldn’t help the smile that tugged up the corners of his mouth. When you managed to catch your breath, you looked at him and cocked your head to the side, “I have no clue where we’re going and we’ve been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”
“Honesty,” he pulled one of his knees toward his chest and drummed his fingers on it, “it’s refreshing. You’re gonna be alright, kid.”
“There’s a place,” you murmured after a few moments of silence, “that my mom told me about when I was little. She made it sound like this magical place. I guess really, that’s where I want to go.”
“I hate to break it to you,” Cooper said, “but magical places don’t really exist. They never really did.”
“I know,” you admitted softly, “it just seemed like that when I was young. She died a long time ago, but I’d always think about that place, going there someday.  She said it was west - just go west and you’ll know when you’re there.”
“Hmm,” he nodded and paused for a moment before getting up and grabbing some nearby sticks and bringing them to the center of the clearing. He started making a fire before you could even question him, “if it draws anything out, I’m sure we can handle it.”
“Thanks Coop,” you watched him work, an odd feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Once the fire was going, he settled down near you, “Cooper?”
“Hmm?”
“We are going west, right?” your question caused him to chuckle before he reached into his pocket and pulled something small out that he passed over you. It was a small silver compass worn and weathered just like him.
“I’m sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but we’ve been goin’ east for the last couple of days,” he shrugged as you groaned at yourself. At least you didn’t have anywhere to be at any particular time, “had I know we’ve been searching for a magical place, I could have told you we were going the wrong way.”
“I guess I’m not as handy as I thought,” you grumbled to yourself, clutching the compass tightly in your hand, “you know you don’t have to come, right?”
“I know,” he nodded, “you think anyone could force me to do something against my will, you don’t know me at all, sugar. Now stop your yapping and get some rest. We’ll start heading west at sunrise.”
You paused for a moment, pulling his coat tighter around you, “thanks, Coop.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The next couple of days of trekking passed in relative peace. The two of you were now making your way west for whatever magical place your mom had made you dream of you. You weren’t sure why Cooper was still with you, but you weren’t about to complain. He provided some decent company since you’d had your little heart to heart, but he owed you nothing. You weren’t exactly complaining; he was the closest thing to a friend you’d had in a long time.
But, as things would have it in the wasteland, life threw a wrench in your plans. A wrench in the form of two raiders that definitely weren’t looking to get chummy. 
“Ugh,” you groaned as the two figures approached from a distance. The two of you were outside of a saloon, trying to decide whether to keep pressing on for the evening or staying put and turning in. Cooper followed your line of sight and made a sign of annoyance, “why do I feel like they’re going to make trouble?”
“Well, darlin’, that’s because they’re about to make trouble,” he touched the brim of his hat and pulled it further down. 
“Look who it is,” one of the men sneered at the two of you. He looked about as unfriendly as they came, “the Ghoul of the hour and his little bounty.”
“We heard you were having some trouble delivering her back home,” his partner came up and eyed you without shame. He looked disgusting with greasy hair and rotting teeth, a sinister expression on his face, “so we came to take over.”
“Go fuck yourself,” you spit at him, reaching for the dagger that was at your side. You felt Cooper reach for your hand and gently squeeze it in order to stop you from making any rash moves.
“What this charming sweetheart means is that she is not going back with you,” Cooper smirked at them, ���so you can run along now.”
“Fucking Ghoul,” the first man snarled at him, “you couldn’t even do your job. Turn the bitch over and we’ll let you go alive…or whatever the hell you are.”
“You can go back to my father and tell him that he can go fuck himself too,” you hissed, blood boiling with sheer annoyance and anger, “and if you don’t turn around right now-”
“What?” His voice was sticky sweet and filled with vinegar as he smiled at you; both of them had pistols in their hands and that made your stomach churn. They could easily get the jump on you, “you’ll kill me?”
“No,” Cooper pushed you behind him and looked at them with a grin on his face. Of course he’d  be enjoying this, “but I will.”
“Why don’t you just-” but the man couldn’t get another word in as the sound of the gunshot rang through the air, causing you to stumble backwards and cover your ears. A second shot rang out within seconds and you saw the other body fall to the ground. 
It happened so fast that you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your body, causing you to let you let out a loud sob. You’d seen death before, you’d seen things much worse than before but there was something about the moment that was overwhelming. 
Blood spattered the side of the building, causing you to dry heave as you noticed the bits of brain and bone clinging to it. Your ears were still ringing as you tried not to completely lose your grip on reality.
“Hey,” you heard his voice cut through the fog and you felt his hand on your shoulders, helping to keep you steady and upright. You shifted your gaze up and found his eyes concerned, “hey.”
“I-I…” you couldn’t even form a proper sentence as you looked at him, “they…you. You saved me.”
Before he could even respond, you threw your arms around him and held tightly onto him. He was taken aback for a moment before he hugged you back, and you could feel his breath of relief. There was something so good and reassuring about the feel of his arms around you.
“You would have had it handled,” he insisted and you shook your head. 
“No,” you looked at him and to your surprise he gently wiped away your tears, “I couldn’t have. I couldn’t have saved myself this time. Thank you.”
“No need to thank  me, darlin’,” he took your chin in his hand and kept your gaze on his, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“I do,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and nodded slightly, “I do need you. Don’t go.”
“The only place I’m going is west,” there was that smile again, the one that rarely graced his features. The same one that made your legs feel like jello, “are you comin’?”
“Yes,” you promised, “I’m coming.”
“Well then, we best get goin’ sweetheart,” he glanced over the carnage that he left behind, “before someone else comes to make trouble.”
He checked himself over to make sure he had everything ready to. You missed the feel of his touch almost immediately. 
Once he made sure he had everything, he held his hand out to you.
You took it without hesitation. 
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ghoulphile · 4 hours
Text
janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 3.7k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, frottage, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --” ➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠 there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself mostly un-beta'd atm a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!
feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist
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Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.
One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.
Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.
It’d be easier if they were.
Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.
Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.
Then came the separation.
Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.
And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.
See, war’s something he understands.
But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?
How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?
When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?
He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.
Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.
The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.
Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.
Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.
But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.
See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.
Hell, millions used to scream his name.
Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”
While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.
It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.
Something’s gotta give.
After all, he’s only one man.
But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.
A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.
At first, he kept his distance.
Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.
Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.
Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.
Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.
Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.
So what if he takes himself in hand long after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?
Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?
Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?
What you don’t know can’t hurt you.
After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.
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“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”
Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.
“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”
A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”
Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"
“Mnhfmmmm.”
“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”
Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”
Shit.
“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”
Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.
Together they settle with a bounce of springs.
In the open space, you slide in.
The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.
“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”
“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”
“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”
Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.
You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.
“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”
Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.
“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”
“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”
Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.
“... Then pancakes it is.”
As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”
“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”
“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”
“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”
She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears. 
Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.
“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.
“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”
The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.
After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.
“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”
The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.
A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.
Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.
“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”
Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.
The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.
Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.
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When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.
You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.
Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.
Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.
After all, he’s not yours to touch.
Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”
Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”
Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”
Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood. 
“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”
He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.
God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.
Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.
“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”
Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.
“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”
“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.
Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.
“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.
Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.
The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.
“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”
“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”
Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”
“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.
Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.
Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.
Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.
But here — with him — you shouldn’t.
Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.
When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”
“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”
Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.
“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”
The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.
He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”
You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.
Greedy.
Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.
However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog. 
Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”
Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”
“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”
“No, that’s not what I --”
He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”
Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”
“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.
Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”
“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”
Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.
Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?
Hell, you even cook and clean!
Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.
Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.
How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.
If he wasn’t so captivating…
“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”
“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”
Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.
When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.
Waiting to see what you'll do.
Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.
Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.
Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.
He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.
“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”
With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”
The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.
“Woah! I--”
“Tell me something.”
Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.
“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”
The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”
You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”
“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”
Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.
The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.
“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”
He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.
Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”
Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.
“C’mon, be honest.”
With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.
Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.
“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”
His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”
“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”
“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”
“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”
“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”
There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”
In what world would you refuse?
The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.
He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.
Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.
“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”
Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.
Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.
You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.
He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.
"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."
Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”
"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."
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dried-mushroom · 2 days
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I'd suck his beef jerky stick 🤷‍♀️
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eupheme · 13 hours
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— below the belt [into the fire, part iv]
part i | part ii | part iii | masterlist
cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 4k
tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, sex for favors, sub/dom elements, brief somno, fingering, light degradation, oral (f & m), light ass play, hair pulling, swallowing, miscommunication, cooper is a diiiccckk, canon-typical violence and death
a/n: just a small warning there’s very brief references about pregnancy and infertility in this, in reference to reader’s vault (in regards to other members)
“I don’t think I‘ve ever been more desperate. Told myself I’d do anything to make sure they didn’t find me.” A small smile, then - as you remember, "But then I found you, and..."
As you turn, you notice he's gone still. Hat tipped down low, a guarded look as the pink of his tongue slips across his teeth.
"Huh. Should've known." He muses - voice slow and rough, "Think I'm startin’ to put things together."
(Or - you open up, and things don’t go as planned)
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There’s a pressure at your hips. Something nudging your thighs apart, strong and solid. The ghost of fingertips at the hem of your shirt, pushing the fabric up.
You stir in your sleep, the dark room swimming. Jerking awake at the press of something against your core - a hand splayed across your lower back, pinning you down.
A snarl in your throat, as you try to twist away.
“Easy there, you lil’ yao guai.” The Ghoul’s voice cuts through the dark, and with it - you feel your muscles start to ease.
“What are you doing?” You croak sleepily.
“Takin’,” He husks - teeth biting into the leather of his gloves, tearing them from his fingers.
Cupping you, the heel of his palm pressing against your clothed cunt. Fingers sliding beneath the thin fabric of your underwear, as your thighs nudge wider.
Back arching, as you stretch out on your belly. A rough hum as you fill his palm. Warm against his fingers, as the tip of one rubs at your clit.
“Was just gonna sleep.” It’s quiet. You don’t know if it’s early or late - the room still bathed in moonlight, “But seeing all this skin, the way you’re offering up your pussy on a silver platter…”
He tugs at your underwear, ripping it down your thighs, “Makes a man wanna take a bite.”
Teeth sink into the soft curve of your ass - a yelp as you jerk beneath him. Glaring at him from over your shoulder, from beneath heavy eyelids.
He’d been gone all day. Something about needing to check the next place out. Not wanting you slowing him down.
There had been a spike of something in your stomach at his words. Fear. Unease.
Condescension dripping in his tone, in his “You best stay put, or I’ll make you stay put.”
Funny how after all this time, it’s him being apartfrom you that had you pacing. Checking out the battered windows, ready to dart back down to the basement. Fighting the nausea of the RadAway still that lingers in your system as the radiation purges itself, after the days before.
Busying yourself with more scavenging. Scrubbing the grime and dust from your clothes in a bucket of radiated water, your pants still hanging off the back of a chair to dry.
The hours slowly ticking by, until the sun dipped under the horizon. The thin blanket pulled up to your chin, as you waited - until finally, you drifted off.
You’re not ready to unpack that. Or the fluttering in your belly now. The relief.
His features are even more skull-like in the darkness, his hat discarded on a nearby table. Faint shadows cast across his face by the still-buzzing static of the television. Dark hollows carved out at his nose, the set of his eyes.
A smear of red against his cheekbone. Flaking off the leather of his discarded gloves. Adrenaline slowly leeching from his system, from an unexpectedly rough afternoon. Unable to resist the urge to sink into something soft and wanting.
There’s a low sound of amusement as he nudges at you, urging you onto your knees. Your back still arched, shirt riding up to where your tits still press into the bed, your face now buried in the crook of an arm.
“Ain’t this a sight.” His hands grasp at your hips, fingers denting flesh as he spreads you open. Baring all of you to him.
Spit pools on his tongue. The dip of his head as his lips part - letting it drip down, warm and wet against your holes.
It makes you gasp, clenching down around nothing. He must see it, how you string tight, with the rough exhale he makes.
Your fingers curl against the mattress. Holding you breath - waiting for the press of his cock, the sharp stretch that you know will follow. Waiting for whatever he gives you.
Not expecting the brush of his tongue, as it flattens against your folds. Languid when it flicks up to your entrance. The sound you make is ragged, thighs pressing together.
They’re caught by his hands. Wrapping around the crook of your knees, forcing them apart again.
“No you don’t.” He hums, feeling your muscles flex in his grip, “You best keep these nice and spread for me.”
Another exploratory lick, tasting you - a muffled groan as he discovers how wet you are when he parts you.
He’s never touched you like this. Your mind is still caught on the kiss, his tongue against your tits, knuckles bruised by the bite of his teeth. Never expecting to know the feeling of his mouth anywhere else.
You don’t want him to stop. Arching more, using your leverage on the mattress to hike yourself higher for him.
“That’s more like it, sweetheart.” He rasps, “You learn fast, I’ll give you that.”
You keen, as he teases at your clit. Tight flicks of his tongue that have you rocking against him. Smearing his spit and your slick across your skin, before his lips are following.
Devouring you. Groaning at your taste.
“Been dyin’ for another taste,” It’s almost a coo, with the syrupy drawl of his words - muffled against your cunt, “Sweeter than stolen honey.”
Marveling at how wet you are, for him - in this dry and dead desert landscape. Nothing but sand and death for miles but you’re here, soft and slick against his mouth, biting back a muffled whine for more.
His tongue dips into your tight heat. Feeling the tight clench of you as he presses close, unhindered by the bulk of a nose.
Your hips rock against his face. Fully awake now, eyes tightly shut. Soft sounds melding with the suck of his mouth, thigh muscles tight and trembling.
“S’good,” It’s rough from sleep. Quiet, as if afraid he’ll stop if you reveal just how good he feels, “Feels so fucking good.”
A whine when his mouth does leave you.
“Yeah?” His voice is low, as his hand leave your legs. Thumbs finding the curve of your thigh, pressing into the meat of your ass, “Like getting tongue-fucked by a Ghoul?”
Opening you up, his thumb ghosting across your clit. Your answer is half-moan, half-sound, as he pinches the tight bud.
“Only if it’s yours.”
He makes a low, rough sound at that. Palming himself from his potion behind you.
“Still talkin’. Sounds like you need a little more.” It’s your only warning before two of his fingers nudge against your opening.
Your gasp rings out, turning soft when they press deep to fill you. The nudge of his thumb with each plunge of his fingers bringing you ever closer. Unable to help the rock of your hips, as his fingers curl inside you.
Each breath is a pushed from you. Ragged and high-pitched, as your fingers pinch tighter. The slight plateau spiking again as he strokes against a spot his cock had found.
Fingers twisting, as the pleasure climbs higher. A third fitting into you, one knuckle at a time. It’s almost too much, your legs pressing flush against his, knees locking as heat pools in your belly.
“Look at these tight little holes. Always takin’ what I give you,” He admires, as feels the way you clench down around him.
The tip of his thumb sweeping up. Following the path of slick and spit, until it rubs against your tight rim, “Good girl like you gonna let me in here, too?”
It shocks you. His words, that hint of praise. How unexpected his touch is. Your focus narrows to the pad of his thumb, the steady pump of his fingers. His groan rough as he feels you tighten around his fingers.
“Fuck. Filthy little thing.” He grins, adding the slightest pressure.
Your own moan is wanton, loud and needy in the near-silent room. So close you can almost reach out and taste it - ready to sink your teeth into the ripe flesh.
“I’m gonna-” You manage, but it peters off, slipping into a moan.
“What? You gonna come?” He mocks, but it’s ragged. Losing its edge with his own need - too focused the wet squelch of his fingers, how your hips buck against his palm.
The mattress is rough against your cheek as you nod. Words are all but stolen from you now, leaving unable to answer. Nothing left but the ache for your release, everything inside you winding tight.
Forgiveness in the way his head bends, another lick against your pussy, where his fingers still pound.
The next slick brush is against your clit. The tilt of his head so his tongue can flick at the tight bud. Again and again - and with the third, you feel yourself shatter.
You wail, as he rips it from you. A bright pulse that radiates inside you - your release dripping from you with the clench of your cunt. A low hum as he feels how hard you come around his fingers, against his tongue.
Eyes closed so tightly that stars spark behind your lids. There’s the rough cadence of his voice, but everything is muted except the pleasure that sends your nerves alight.
Not noticing the panting whines are coming from you, until you drift back down.
Softening, when his fingers ease from you. A hiss when he leaves you empty, already missing the heavy fullness.
“Flip over,” The Ghoul growls, as he leans back on his heels.
Your muscles tight in the best way from the bend of your knees, the pounding of his fingers. A soft groan as you shift, your back pressing into the mattress as your thighs open for him.
His eyes already there, seeing the slick shine between your legs, the pretty gape where he’s worked you open. There’s the clink of his belts, as he works himself free, achingly hard in his palm.
Anticipation swelling as you wait for him to hike your legs around his waist and bury himself in you.
That heavy gaze flicks up, instead. Bare skin, the pushed-up tangle of your shirt. The cock-drunk haze of your eyes. Your soft, parted lips as you catch your breath.
He’s like a shadow as he crawls up you. Tattered coat licking at your legs, lean thighs spreading as they bracket your ribs.
A hand plants next to your head as he arcs over you. The other wrapping around his cock - where it hangs heavy, brushing your chest.
Your eyes are wide, focused on the thick shine of him as he works your slick over his cock - how the flushed head disappears with the stoke of his fingers. Lips already parted in anticipation.
His hand unwrapping, fingers slipping against your bottom lip. Hooking around your teeth, as your tongue licks at his knuckles.
A sharp inhale, when you close around and suck.
“Gonna use this mouth,” He husks, “The way it ought to be used.”
Pressure against your jaw, until you’re opening. He leans back, thighs spreading wider. The hand by your ear leaving to curl around his base.
Eyes dark as he feeds himself into your mouth. You can’t help but moan when he hits your tongue - the musky taste of you that clings to him.
Fingers slipping free, but his eyes stay fixed as he inches between your lips. How quick you are to close around him - watching the grit of his jaw. Licking over the rough and uneven flesh, swollen and leaking against your tongue.
He eclipses everything else, with how he fills your vision. A hand slipping beneath your head to angle you, so you can take him deeper.
A shallow thrust that inches towards the back of your throat, constricting around him as you moan.
Intention in the way you slide your hands up for him. Fingers wrapped around the straps of the pack you were using as a pillow. His knees framing your tits, as he rocks into your mouth.
A silent submission that he does not miss. The curl of his lip and the shine of teeth, as you let him decide how much you can take.
His weight presses into your chest, keeping you pinned. Unable to go deep at this angle, but content with the hot suck of your mouth, the wet swirl of your tongue. Finding his rhythm, the clink of his spurs as his knees dig into the ground with each thrust.
There’s an unsteady buck of his hips, and his shaft scrapes against your teeth. You go still - eyes rounding with a jolt of fear - but all he does is let loose a rough groan, chin jutting as his teeth click together.
His hand still cradles the back of your head. Fingers twisting in the hair at the nape of your neck, but not enough to hurt. Almost as if grounding himself, as he pumps into your mouth.
“Goddamn.” He growls, “Should thank whoever taught you to suck cock. Gonna make me come, sweetheart-”
Your eyes do close then, resisting the urge to let your hands drift. To slide up his thighs, across his vest, aching to slip beneath. They curl instead, grasping at the straps.
Air rushing into your lungs, as he pulls from you. Eyes fluttering open to catch the way he strokes himself, angling the tip towards your parted and glossy lips.
“You gonna take it?” He rasps, and you nod - letting your tongue peek out for him.
His hand tugs at your hair, his chin tipping down to watch, “Wanna hear you say it. You gonna let me fill your pretty mouth?”
You don’t know when use became let, but if he wants your permission - he has it. It’s always been his, even when it’s been wrapped tightly around you. Tied up in a bow.
“Yeah,” Your eyes are on his when you say it. Focusing on the grit of his jaw, the dark shine of his eyes, “I wanna taste you.”
His fingers tighten, brow pinching. A jerk of his hips into his fist - something bitten back between his teeth, caught in the heave of his chest.
“Open.” The Ghoul groans, and it’s all the warning you get before he’s coming - spilling across your lips, and then into the wet heat of your mouth.
Your eyes flicking up to watch again, though you’re torn. Tempted to watch the rough jerk of his fist, all that exposed skin. But it’s nothing compared to the way he looks at you as you take him. The weight of his gaze, the baring of teeth that has nothing to do with anger.
The Ghoul still tastes like a man should, as the salt of him as it floods your tongue. The kick of his length between your lips with each throb, his eyes rolling shut as he milks himself into your mouth.
His thumb smears across your lower lip, before it sinks inside to join his cock. A ragged breath, when he feels you swallow around both. Your tongue flicking across your lips when he eases from you, the tips of your fingers wiping away the rest.
“Fuckin’ Christ.” It’s a low exhale, a held tension gone from his shoulders. Fingers finally loosening from your hair, though you would have kept your heady steady for him without them.
He flops down on the mattresses, where they are pushed together. Stretching out beside you, the long hours finally catching up to him.
A lift of his hips as he tucks himself away, as you reach down to find the twist of fabric around your knees - tugging your underwear back into place.
Your mind is blissfully quiet - drowsy again, in the late hour and your post-orgasmic haze. Warm, as you roll on your side, studying him from under half-lidded eyes.
He’s close. Enough you can see the rough cut of his cheekbones, the straight line of his teeth. A second as you wonder, not for the first time, what he might have looked like before.
Your cheek grazes his shoulder, as a dark eye flicks your way. An arm splayed out, still tucked beneath your neck from where he had angled your head.
The phantom pinch of his fingers still lingers. The taste of him on your tongue when you lick against your teeth.
“What?” He grouses - as he does, when he can’t read you. When you manage to surprise him.
“Nothing.” You murmur, sleepily, “Just glad you made it back.”
It’s easy then, for your head to tilt without thinking. For your lips to ghost against his throat, where his pulse flutters beneath rough skin.
A ragged breath rattles in his chest, when you press another kiss lazily against his jaw. He stiffens beside you, fingers curled in the fabric of your shirt.
Before he’s pushing - rolling you over. Tucking you between him and the old basement wall, his back to the locked door.
“Yeah, yeah.” He grunts. All bark now, with the way his bare fingers splay across your skin, where your shirt has ridden up.
“Get some sleep. Long walk tomorrow.”
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The morning dawns, and there’s something about it that seems more clear.
Or maybe it’s just you, your mind drifting back to the night before. How you woke up with the heavy press of him against you.
It hadn’t lasted long - a rough groan against your ear. Nothing said as the hat fixed itself back where it belongs. A silent tilt of his head towards to door, indicating the departure.
He still follows behind you, but you think just a bit of that gap between you has closed. A silent corner being turned, somewhere between dusk and dawn.
Only thing shared is that he’s narrowed the bounty down to a settlement, six miles from here. Deeper into the desert, instead of the crop of trees you had been hoping to head towards. Shade would be a welcome improvement, to the miles on empty road.
Maybe before, you would have been disappointed. But somehow - today - you don’t mind.
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"Yesterday." The Ghoul’s voice comes from behind you - some time later, "You didn't want to stay alone."
It's not a question, but you can hear the way his words trail off. A second as you pick through your thoughts, settling on something you’ve been carrying since the beginning.
"Didn't want to be found." The wind carries your words back to him.
A few more steps pass, before he's asking, "What'd a thing like you do to get a bounty?"
Your steps slow, until he's beside you. A sideways look sent his way, catching his eye.
"You took it." It's the first real time it's been addressed, after your init meeting, "Wouldn't you know?"
He could outpace you if he wanted, with those long legs. Content enough at the moment, to stick by your side, "I know what I know. Wanna hear your side."
You hum, contemplating. Wondering how to explain. If it would make sense to a man like him. If he’d think you were weak.
"Our Overseer had a… god complex," You start slowly - never having to explain it out loud, trying to find the words, "Had it coded in the beginning that only his direct, patrilineal bloodline could work the Vault. Everything went through him."
Food. Water. Power. Everything locked under codes and keys. Thumbprints and DNA, the role of Overseer shared across the current generation.
"All his sons, then their sons, and so on... they all got married off to other families in the Vault. Or they’d find a way to bring in new blood from the outside.” Your mother had been a Wastelander, carrying you when she had been traded. You had never seen the sun until a few weeks ago.
“If you couldn't produce a male heir, you disappeared. If you tried to leave, they'd bring you back, and then you'd disappear. Been like that a long time."
A whispered secret that many knew. Followed, because the security of control and safety outweighed the horrors of the unknown. The knowledge that whether you left or not, your bones would stay in the Vault.
"So what? Didn't want to play the role of broodmare in your utopia?" He sneers, and it's not the first time you've picked up on his distaste of the Vaults, of Vault Dwellers like you.
“Seems like a goddamn picnic compared to the shit you see up here."
“You asked.” Your arms cross over your chest, as you scowl at him.
A few weeks ago and you would have gone silent. Now, you’re starting to her used to his gruff comments, the sharp bristle. Waiting, until his eyes tear away, a small jerk of his chin to continue.
"My name got drawn. Was supposed to marry one. But… in the last five years he's gone through three wives. Not a single child." You can feel the weight of his gaze on your face, the pinch of his brow.
A beat, as you start off again, "Told you, I worked as a chemist. I saw his vitals. It wasn't them, but  for it."
"So you left." His words comes reluctantly, as he fits the pieces together, "I take it they weren't happy about that."
"Wasn't gonna let it be me next." You nod, "But no, they weren't. Like I said, no one truly leaves, but I was dead either way, right?”
A beat, as you take a breath to steady yourself. Stuck in the fear from that day and the ones that followed, afraid of your own shadow.
“I don’t think I‘ve ever been more desperate. Told myself I’d do anything to make sure they didn’t find me.” A small smile, then - as you remember, "But then I found you, and..."
As you turn, you notice he's gone still. Hat tipped down low, a guarded look as the pink of his tongue slips across his teeth.
"Huh. Should've known." He muses - voice slow and rough, "Think I'm startin’ to put things together."
"What are you talking about?" You ask with a frown, thrown off by the change in pace.
"I think you know." He presses, your eyes flicking down to watch the way his wrist reflexively presses against the butt of his revolver, where it juts from his holster.
Scowling now, stalking closer, "Not a bad plan, Vaultie. Was gonna have to fuck someone either way, right? Might as well pick the man with the biggest gun. That what you thought?”
There's venom in his tone, biting into you. The first time his fury has fully been directing at you, freezing you in place.
A shake of your head, your voice sounding small, "It's-, it’s not like that."
You haven’t been using him. Not like he thinks, though you don’t know why he’s so angry. He’s treated almost everything like a transaction - keeping you at arms length.
You’ve been the one that’s falling, not him.
"Christ, you really had me going. You're a damn good liar, you know that?" He spits, with a low shake of his head. A scoff, as his eyes narrow, "Been wondering why you’ve been offerin’ yourself up so eagerly to me."
It makes your head spin, as you try to make sense of his words. Another small shake, the words caught in your throat.
You don't know how to explain that your desperation in the beginning did have its roots in self-preservation. But in all the days and moments that have passed - that surely, surely he couldn’t still think so.
“I know how it sounds but, I-” Your words cut off, as a hand reaches out, wrapping around your bicep. Yanking you closer until you stumble.
"You do, huh? Let me tell you, all you did was trade one devil for another.” The words ground out, snarled between clenched teeth, “You're a goddamn fool if you think I hadn’t been planning on turnin' you in the first chance I get."
His words chip away at your heart. With an effort you try to wrench your arm away - a shove against his chest that does nothing, as your own fury boils inside you.
"How can you say that? You found me, asshole." You snarl, "I haven't lied about anything. I could have left, but I stayed because I wanted to. Didn’t last night mean anything to you?”
“It was just business.” He growls, “Ain’t that right?”
The look he gives you is the final piece that shatters you, as his fingers pinch harder against your skin.
He never cared after all.
Your throat aches. The urge to fight, to make him understand, slips through your fingers. Another shove, harder this time, right into his gut. A ragged breath as his grip loosens, and it's all you can do to twist on your heel.
Shooting him a venomous glance from over your shoulder, "If you're going to take me in, then fucking do it."
You don’t care anymore. Waiting for the rope to lasso around your waist. Bind tightly around your throat, until it chokes you.
But, it doesn't.
You don't look back.
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Tears prick your eyes, as you hoist your pack higher on your shoulder. One of the few things that has made the journey with you - so much shed over the miles.
You had endured enough. Had thought something had changed, since those first days together. That maybe, as the days had passed, he had softened. That maybe you weren’t alone in your feelings. That offer just a mask, to act on them. 
All you did was trade one devil for another.
A foolish thought. It makes your jaw grit, an angry shake of your head. You wouldn't cry over him, not after everything you've been through.
The edge of the abandoned town passes, fuzzy with the way your eyes fix ahead.
Blinded to the rest of the world, as you set off for the unknown.
Small pieces forming a loose semblance of a plan. Something about another settlement, a while down the road, into the forest. No bounty there, but you didn’t give a shit anymore.
With the food in your pack, you might be able to trade for some caps. Find some work - maybe stick around, if it's safe.
If not, it's not like you're not used to sleeping on the ground.
Sand leads to dirt paths, then to grass. Brushing your ankles as you weave through the barren forest, the bark stripped bare and bleached by the sun.
The weight of him follows you, though you do not turn around. A hand held loosely on your holster by habit more than anything, as you pick your way across fallen branches.
You didn't need him. Right now you tell yourself you didn't even want him.
But, you’ve never been a good liar.
There's the snap of a branch, then. A metallic creak.
It's cruel, how your heart leaps. How you look for him, breath held with the swivel of your head.
Only to feel like you are falling, when it's not the Ghoul. When a figure steps out from the trees. Two more from an outcropping of rock.
Your body freezes on its own, when you see them. All familiar.
The two from the town, those days ago. Springing to your mind now, as you had peered from over his shoulder at the bounty board. The amateurs - the man with the scar, and his partner.
And the other. All that blue - encased in padded leather armor. He is the one that makes your blood run cold, your fingers curling into fists.
Baine. He was from your Vault. Someone they sent out to bring people back, and every time they came home battered - left to you to patch up, if they lived that long.
"Took a bit you find you," He smiles, though it does not reach his eyes, "Had to enlist in some local help. Thought you'd never split off from that creature."
Your head whips to the side, as they shift - trying to box you in. Fear and fury licks in you, as you grit out, "He's not a creature."
He scoffs, "You keep strange company, but you'll be back where you belong soon enough. I am sure the Overseer will be... forgiving, if you come quietly."
The man with the scar lunges - reaching for your arm. At the same time, you remember yourself. Just able to get your fingers around the butt of your gun, drawing it out.
There's a snarl but you're firing - downing him just before he reaches you, his body careening over the edge of the rock. Your aim twitches towards Baine, but he's faster.
His hand wrapping around your wrist, twisting until you cry out - fingers opening. A sharp pain in your chest, as his fist slams into it.
Fingers unfurling to reveal the syringe, slipped between your ribs. The plunger flush with the base - whatever was inside, already flooding through you.
"Should've gone quietly, girl." It's faded, as if you're in a tunnel. The world tilting on an axis, as your legs give out.
You cry out, for him - the broken noise sounding like it comes from a thousand miles away.
And then… there's nothing.
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(someone got their feelings hurt 👀) thank you so much for reading!! 💖 I have really loved writing this and them, really appreciate all the love!!
236 notes · View notes
acapelladitty · 14 hours
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NSFW Alphabet: Cooper Howard
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Summary: A full NSFW alphabet for Cooper Howard/The Ghoul from Fallout (2024).
Fic Masterlist
Link to AO3
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Pretends that he's not needing anything after sex but actually loves it when his partner wraps themselves around him like a second skin. Won't ever admit to it, but the way his arm snakes around to pull them even closer is hint enough to his real desires.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Likes his hands because they're quick and dexterous, and can justbas easily gut a gulper as they can seek out and tease a clit. Not much pride in his own appearance aside from that. He's also a tit man and the pillowy softness of them is so opposed to his own body that he only enjoys them more, usually with his mouth as much as his hands.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Sterile as all fuck, he can do what he wants with his cum and it makes no difference. Enjoys the taste and likes oral because of it. He does love for his partner to hold onto his cum though, either by swallowing or by pushing it back up their holes with his fingers. They earned it so they're going to keep it.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Has experimented with his new abilities as a Ghoul in some interesting and intense ways. Usually pushing the edge of pleasure and pain as he tests his own limits. His leathered skin is less sensitive than most so he's spent some of his more boring nights doing things to himself that would have a normal man in fucking hysterics.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He knows his way around a hole that's for sure. He slept with one or two folks before Barb but he was pretty monogamous after that despite the sleaze of his acting career. He and Barb did share a very healthy, vibrant sex life and he was eager to experience new things with her but nothing too outside of the 'vanilla' realm.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Seated with his partner riding his lap like any good cowgirl should. The close skin-to-skin contact, plus the easy access to their chest, makes it a firm favourite as he's generous with his tongue and teeth. Plus, it lets him enjoy their facial expressions and hold some eye contact as he drinks in their pleasure.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Never 'goofy' is a daft sense but isn't above using filthy talk and double entendres while cracking a wicked smirk. Lots of word play around his status as both a cowboy and a monster and he likes to remind his partner of BOTH of those facets of his personality.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Look at the poor cunt 😭 he's a great big baldy bastard with nary a pube on him. The only hair he has are the follicles that fall off the folk he occasionally scalps.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Surprisingly romantic given how gruff and generally detached he is, but only with a romantic partner. A random fuck gets a casual pump and dump while sex with a partner has some meaning for him and he likes to feel his partner close and ensure that they have a good time with him.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Not at the top of his priority list in the grand scheme of things. If he's feeling horny then he'll deal with it and leave the mess splattered on the ground where it fell.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Roleplay is a kink of his and he would be at his happiest role-playing a very traditional "cowboy saves a damsel and she's looking to repay the favour" type scene. His most 'out there' kinks include a mild touch of erotic cannibalism, ropework, and dom/sub dynamics relating to discipline and cnc.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Strong enough to make any vertical surface a viable spot for a fuck, there are very few areas that Cooper can't turn into a good spot for sex. His preference is for a bed though because he can be a lazy fucker when it suits him but that's an indulgence he's very rarely afforded.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Very easily motivated if he can sense his partner is down for a rough tumble in the sheets. All he needs is a WHIFF of a chance of hole and he'll be rubbing himself across you like a cat in heat. Hand straight to the groin like it was magnetic.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Sharing his partner? Oh no. He'd fucking kill any third party before they could do anything too untoward. He's jealous as hell and volatile with it as he claims so little in the shithole that is the wastelands. Will threaten to tie his partner up and leave them for the raiders and beasts but that's just a horny threat.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
One leftover from his previous life is his love of giving oral. His wife loved it and he loved receiving it in equal measure. However, with things as they are, he'd rather get his rocks off in warm hole when the opportunity and time arose.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Normally? Fast and rough. However, in the quieter moments when the sun hangs low and he feels relaxed enough to enjoy some time with his partner, he takes great pleasure in some slow and sensual sex.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Due to his circumstances, quickies are often the only option for some hole so if he and his partner are frisky then it's as and when the potential arises.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
I think choosing to fuck someone in the wastelands automatically qualifies as a considerable risk. But, yes. He's fond of risk and it's something that he'll continue to push and push until he's satisfied.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Ridiculous stamina. The kind of stamina that will have smoke pouring from your hole if he's not careful lol. As a ghoul, his skin is slightly desensitised so he can go for longer but usually only lasts one good round.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Not really a big fan of toys (finds his cock and mouth MORE than capable thank you VERY much) but will use easy-to-access objects like his lasso and knife for some kinky play.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Only teases when it's a game he's playing. Most of the time, he's looking for some quick, rough action that he and his partner can enjoy in their limited, quieter moments. In terms of vocal teasing? He's very quick to spout off with some sleazy promises and demands.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Tries to be very controlled but does have a tendency to grunt and growl a lot which makes him more animalistic than vocal in terms of his speech when he's fucking someone.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Cooper would like to eat a little bit of his partner if they were willing and had the bit going spare. Most of his meals are a necessity but to have a willing offering would be quite erotic and a big deal for him.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
His cock is the same shade as the rest of his skin but with a slightly deeper tone in his cockhead. Very average length but on the girthier side with a slight lean to the right when he's fully erect. No pubes, obviously.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Makes a lot of inappropriate comments and touches which would have you believing that he's constantly looking for some tail. That's only true because he tends to be hornier in high-stress situations which, unfortunately, is most of the time.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He doesn't sleep much and there's something possessive in him that makes him happier watching over his fucked-out partner as they sleep rather than sleeping himself.
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queenxxxsupreme · 1 day
Text
At the End of the World (Cooper Howard x reader)
(Part 2)
A/N: So I don’t know how much I like this, but I think after this piece I’m going to try to follow some of the show but just add my own little twists into it :) I hope you guys like it! Enjoy!!
Warning: nothing outside of canon, mentions of bad dreams and of child loss, a twisted ankle
Word Count: 4.3k
Summary: Sometimes Lucy doesn’t know when to stop asking questions. Here is Part 1 in case anyone missed it :)
You jolted awake, eyes opening wide and lips parting with a soft gasp. Your heart beat so hard against your chest that it actually hurt.
“Easy, doll.”
You furrowed your brows as you looked up at Cooper. Your head rested in his lap, his hand gently brushing over your hair.
You pushed yourself into a sitting position, rubbing your hands over your face.
“Shit.” You cursed.
”Everything alright?”
”Yeah. Yeah, um…. Just a bad dream, I guess.” You looked over your shoulder to him. You moved to sit against your backpack, your leg brushing against Cooper’s. You bent your knees slightly, bringing your hands up to rub your face. “Do you have my smokes?”
He reached into the pocket on his jacket for the carton of cigarettes and a lighter. You took the carton and pulled out a cigarette. His eyes watched you put the stick between your lips. With a flick of his thumb, a flame appeared over the lighter. You leaned over to light the cigarette, taking a small breath.
“Heart’s racin’.” He commented.
You leaned back, blowing a cloud of smoke out of your mouth.
Your hand falls down to your lap, the cigarette dangling loosely between two fingers.
You try to fight the feeling, to fight the scratchy lump forming in your throat. Your right eye stings with tears and your chest tightened as if you were being suffocated.
“I miss her so much, Coop.” Though your voice was weak, he could hear your words just fine.
“I know ya do, doll.”
You hastily brushed the tears off of your cheek. Your gaze fell upon the Vault Dweller that laid fast asleep just a few feet away from you.
You raised the cigarette to your lips, the stick trembling just slightly in your grip.
“My Gracie would be about her age now.”
Wordlessly, Cooper reached over to place his hand on your knee. He didn’t know how to comfort you, how to make you feel better. As a parent himself, he knew what it was like to lose a child. Though for him, there was the smallest chance that his girl was still alive. He just wasn’t sure.
”Finish that cigarette, doll, then you need to try to go to sleep.”
You stiffly shook your head.
“I don’t want to sleep. If-If I have to see her again….” You trailed off.
Cooper let out a soft sigh. You were one stubborn lady.
Silence fell between the two of you. Your eyes seemed glued to Lucy but your gaze was blank. Even though you sat right next to him, you were a thousand miles away.
***
When the sun came up, you, Lucy, and Cooper were back to trudging across the Wasteland. You walked a few feet ahead of Lucy and behind her was Cooper. His eyes continuously scanned the Wasteland for any signs of danger, one hand resting on a handgun on his hip. He had bound Lucy’s hands before the three of you started your journey. He didn’t trust her.
“You’ve been awfully quiet.” Lucy spoke as she jogged to catch up to you. You glanced over to her for a few moments before looking back to the path ahead.
“I’m not feeling too chatty today. Didn’t get a lot of sleep.”
”Are you okay?”
”Yes, I’m fine.”
”I’ve been having a lot of bad dreams lately too.” Lucy sighed out. “There’s just…. There’s so much death and-and blood. I don’t know how people do it.”
”We don’t have any other choice.”
”Yeah, I guess.” The vault dweller shrugged her shoulders.
“Some of us have had to go through so much that the thought of giving up now seems…. It seems pointless. We just….” You paused for a moment. “We just have to keep finding the next thing to keep us going.”
”Like what?” She looked over to you. “Icy, I-I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. You had a family, a whole family and-and now…. I wouldn’t be able to keep going.”
You pressed your lips together. You wanted to be angry with her, to be upset with her. If she thought that everything that had happened to her in the short time she’s been on the surface was bad, she was in for a nasty surprise.
“Sometimes after such loss…. It takes finding someone else who has been through similar things to keep you going.”
Lucy glanced over her shoulder to the Ghoul that traveled a little ways behind them.
The vaultie followed you down a slight incline, but she stepped the wrong way and twisted her ankle. Immediately, she fell to the ground from the pain.
“Ah! Ow! Ow, ow ow!”
”Quiet down, girly.” You knelt down beside her. She clutched at her ankle, groaning in pain. With your cybernetic left eye, you could see that she had overstretched the ligaments.
”What the hell happened, Vaultie?” Cooper looked down at the two of you.
“She sprained her ankle.” You sighed, untying her boot.
“Course she did.”
“Wait, what-what are you doing?” Lucy furrowed her brows.
”Your ankle is going to swell and if you leave it in your boot, it’ll only do you more damage.”
”Oh. O-Okay. Yeah, that makes sense. I guess.” Lucy breathed. “Are-Are you a doctor?”
You looked at her for a couple moments. Sometimes you weren’t sure if she was being serious or joking with you.
You put the boot into your backpack and stood up.
“She’s not going to be able to walk much longer, Coop.”
”Well she don’t got much of a choice, does she?”
You looked to the west where the sun was beginning to set.
“We’re about four hours out from Alma’s.” You looked to Cooper. His jaw went slack as he brought his hand up to rub his brow.
“Damn it.”
”Who’s Alma?” Lucy started to try to stand up. You held your hand out for her to help her to her feet, then you cut off the rope binding her hands together. It would make it easier to help her walk with her hands not stuck together. “Thanks.”
”She’s a friend.”
”A friend ain’t what I’d call her. She tried to kill me last time I saw her.”
”Well she isn’t exactly your biggest fan, Cooper.”
The Ghoul held your gaze. He didn’t want to go all the way to Alma’s. It was out of the way and would just tack more time on to the trip. Not to mention, he didn’t want Alma involved. But with Lucy’s new injury, you really didn’t have a choice.
”I reckon we’re goin’ to Alma’s.”
”Come on, Lucy.” You moved to stand on her right side to provide her support while she walked.
***
Six Hours Later
It was dark by the time you arrived at your destination. It was in what used to be a suburban neighborhood but many of the houses had long since been abandoned. You passed by one derelict house after another, eyes carefully scanning broken windows and rubble for any signs of danger. You knew the danger would be limited as Alma was in charge of most of the raiders in the area, but sometimes the raiders were a little rowdy and eager to attack.
There was one house that stood a little better than those around it. Its windows were mostly boarded up and there was a barbed wire fence around it. The siding of the house had long since lost its original color, instead taking on a more rusty brown color. The right side of the roof to the front porch had fallen in and it made the house appear unsafe to enter.
You stopped at the fence and let Lucy go.
“You two stay out here for just a moment.” Your eyes flickered back to Cooper. He nodded once in acknowledgement.
You slipped between the barbed fencing and then climbed the creaky wooden stairs. Just as you were about to knock on the door, it was pulled open.
An older woman stood in the doorway, a shotgun by her side. Her dark but graying hair was put up in some sort of high mess atop her head. Behind large lensed wire framed glasses were two big brown eyes.
“Icy May. Ain’t no way in hell I thought I’d be seein’ you again.” The shotgun in her hand was leaned against the wall on the inside of the house.
“Hello, Alma.” You smiled, embracing her tightly. “It’s good to see you.”
”You too, dear. So good to see such a pretty face.” She pulled away to get a better look at you. “You look all in one piece. What brings you all the way out this way, darlin?”
”I have a huge favor to ask you.” You stepped aside so that Alma could see the two who traveled with you.
Alma leaned forward, eyes squinting as she struggled to see whoever it was even with her glasses on.
“Oh hell, Icy May.” She shook her head, adjusting the old cardigan that she wore.
“Well ain’t it my favorite old maid.” Cooper spoke, giving Lucy a nudge to go through the fence. Lucy slipped between two of the barbed wires and nervously started for the stairs.
“Shut the hell up, you old bastard. I still haven’t gotten over what you did last time you was here.” Alma nodded her head to the side of the porch that had fallen in.
“I happen to think it made this place look better. More welcomin’.”
”Well I ain’t trying to be more welcomin’.” Alma put her hands on her hips. Her eyes followed Lucy as she struggled to get up the stairs. “What in the hell is this, Icy? A vault dweller?”
”It’s a long story, Alma.” You shook your head. “We just need to rest for the night.”
Her eyes flickered up to you, hesitating. A vault dweller could mean big trouble.
”Aw, what the hell.” She threw her hands in the air and turned to go into her house. She picked up the shotgun she had left by the door.
You offered Lucy your shoulder once again and walked with her to the living room.
The house wasn’t as bad on the inside as it was on the outside. Wallpaper was peeling off of the walls and in some places, it was missing all together. There was a fireplace that had been filled up with rocks. A sofa, which had definitely seen better days, was in the living room. Beside it was a rocking chair and a little end table. It appeared as though the end table was a combination of two different tables put together.
“You have a lovely home.” Lucy complimented.
Alma shook her head, swatting a hand at the Vaultie.
“There’s food in the pantry and water in the washroom down the hall. You’d better get cleaned up and settled for the night. It’s already late.”
”Thank you, Alma.” You offered her a little smile. “We’ll be gone when the sun rises.”
”Better be. Don’t want Howard fuckin’ anything up anymore than he got to.”
“Missed you too, ya old bat.” Cooper muttered.
You took Lucy to the washroom and left her there, then you went to the kitchen. Cooper was already helping himself to the pantry. He sat at the kitchen table with a can of some sort of nonperishable food.
“There’s the couch in the living room and there’s two rooms with mattresses.” Alma told you. She moved around the kitchen, gathering up a canteen and a pack of cigarettes.
”Where are you scurryin’ off to?” Cooper asked her.
”I ain’t scurryin’ nowhere, asshole. It’s past my bedtime and you bunch look worse than the backside of a feral hog.” Alma stopped at you to give you a one armed hug. “We’ll talk in the mornin’, honey.”
”Good night, Alma.”
”Night, girly.”
You watched her leave the kitchen then listened to the floorboards creak as she disappeared down the hallway.
“You should eat somethin’.” Cooper spoke. You rubbed his shoulder before moving to pull a chair up beside him.
“I will.”
It felt nice to finally be able to sit down. Your feet hurt and you were exhausted.
Cooper leaned forward to give your knee a squeeze. Your eyes flickered up to meet his gaze.
***
A little while later, Lucy had retired to the room she was going to be staying in. You and Cooper would be sharing the other mattress in the room across the hall from Lucy.
You made your way down the hallway, doing your best to be as quiet as possible. You didn’t want to disturb Alma.
You came to a stop in the doorway of Lucy’s room, watching her as she sat on the edge of the mattress . She was in the process of eating a can of peaches when she noticed you were standing in the door.
“Oh, um…” She quickly swallowed a peach and held the can out towards you. “Do you want a peach?”
”No, thank you.” You shook your head. “Alma is a good friend of mine.”
”Oh, yeah! She’s incredible. Super nice person.”
”Can I trust you to be here, Lucy?”
She stopped eating the peaches and directed her attention to you.
“She’s taking a big risk letting us stay here for the night. If anything happened to her while we were here….” You trailed off. “Alma’s one of the last few good people out here.”
She nodded her head softly, understanding what you were telling her.
”So do I have to keep an eye on you or can I trust you?”
”You can trust me.”
You weren’t sure you completely believed her.
“Good.” You turned to leave but she stopped you.
“Thank you, Icy. For…. For everything.”
You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms.
“You need to stop thanking me.”
“You’ve practically saved my life by showing up. Who knows what that man would’ve done with me if you hadn’t come along.”
You gazed at her for a few moments, her bright blue eyes still filled with some sort of kindness. It wasn’t often that you came across those kinds of people.
“Good night, Lucy.”
“Oh, uh good night, Icy.” Lucy was confused with your sudden ending of the conversation. That seemed to be a trait of yours.
You moved down the hallway, your quiet footsteps still making the floorboards squeak.
Cooper was in the room the two of you would be sharing. He had taken off his bandolier, holster belt, and duster coat. All items had been placed in a pile at the foot of the mattress. The ghoul was lounging across the mattress with his breather in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and his shoulders leaning up against your backpack. One knee was bent and that was where his hat rested.
His eyes watched as you took off most of your layers. First it was your jacket, then the old flannel, and tattered sweatshirt. You were left in cargo pants, boots, and a thin brown tank top that had definitely seen better days. You pulled your hair out of the ponytail it was in to fix it up for the night.
“My, my, my. Ain’t you a sight fit for kings.”
I tried to bite back the smile that crept across your face but it was no use.
“Keep the charming to yourself, old man. We need to get some sleep.” You sat down on the mattress facing the ghoul. You leaned your torso against his bent leg, picking up his hat and placing it on your head.
He offered you the cigarette, which you gladly took. His breather was discarded on the floor beside the mattress.
You inhaled and held the chemicals in your lungs for a few moments. As you exhaled, Cooper brought his hand up to cup your face. His thumb, calloused and rough, traced your bottom lip.
You let him do so, your eyes steadily watching his face.
He traced the curve of your bottom lip, then used his fingertips to trail along your cheekbone and your temple. He brushed a few pieces of hair back out of your face.
”So what’s your big plan once we get to Hank MacLean?”
The ghoul paused for a moment, pulling his hand away from your face to rest it on his chest. You passed the cigarette back to him and he took it.
”I want to know what happened to them.” He was quiet as to not let his voice carry throughout the otherwise silent house.
You nodded your head. Cooper waited for you to speak. He waited, and waited, and waited. But you said nothing. All you could do was gaze down at one of the buttons on his shirt. The original button, which had been a light shade of brown, was torn off some time ago but you recall sewing a dark green button in its place.
“Say somethin’, doll.” He urged you, tapping the side of your leg gently.
You bit the inside of your cheek, finishing off the cigarette with a deep inhale.
“I hope you find the answers you’re looking for, sweetheart.” You put the cigarette out on the soul of your boot and started to move, wanting to reposition yourself. Cooper stopped you from moving, his hand grabbing yours.
“I just…. I have to find out, Icy.”
”I know.” You murmured softly with a nod of your head. “I’d want to know too, if I was in your place.”
It wasn’t like the two of you were in a full fledged relationship where one of you had asked the other to commit to you, but it also wasn’t casual. Cooper Howard didn’t do casual. It was far too hard to trust someone enough for that sort of thing.
”Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about it.” He put his head back, his hand steadily rubbing your leg as he directed his eyes to the ceiling. “I mean, if MacLean has been able to live this long, then there’s a chance…. even the smallest of one…. that they could be out there.”
You smiled a little, though it was sad and didn’t reach your eyes. If you believed in a higher power, you would pray to them to make it all true, to make his hopes and desires a reality. It was what he deserved after all that he had been through.
Though you wanted to be happy for him, your chest tightened a little with the idea of him finding his family. What would happen to you if he found his wife and his daughter?
You reached out to take his hand away from your leg, clasping your fingers together tightly.
“I hope they are.” You brought his hand up to kiss the inside of his wrist.
Cooper watched you kiss his wrist once, then twice before holding his hand in your lap. He didn’t let you linger in your thoughts for too long. He pulled you down towards him, making you lay down beside him.
“It’s nothin’ but wishful thinking.” He thought out loud.
“Sometimes that’s all that keeps us going.”
***
The Next Morning
Lucy made her way out of her room, using the wall for support as she limped down the hallway. She peered into the living room and found it empty. Her next stop was the kitchen.
The Ghoul sat at the kitchen table, which was covered in an assortment of junk. He was wiping off one of his hand guns.
Lucy looked around the kitchen, hoping and praying she’d find you or Alma.
Cooper glanced up at the vault dweller, very briefly meeting her gaze before looking back down at his weapons.
“Oh, um…. Good morning.” Lucy greeted him in an attempt to be friendly, but friendly wasn’t Cooper Howard’s thing.
He stayed silent.
Lucy leaned against the doorway to take her weight off of her ankle.
”Is Icy up yet?”
”She went out with Alma.” His answer was short and stiff.
“Oh, okay.” Lucy nodded her head.
She stood there for a few moments awkwardly. Should she just go back to the bedroom and hideout until you and Alma returned?
Oh, what the heck.
Lucy limped over to the table and pulled out a bulky wooden chair to sit in. She sighed in relief as she sat down. She examined the amount of junk on the table, curious as to what exactly everything was.
It wasn’t long before Lucy became bored and found herself watching the ghoul that had taken her hostage.
“So…. Is your name Cooper? Or is it Howard? Because, well, I heard Icy call you one and Alma called you another. So I guess I’m just a little confused.” She chuckled nervously.
”My name don’t matter to you, Vaultie.” He sat the handgun down on the table then picked up a shotgun.
“Well I’d like to have something to call you when I talk to you, to have a conversation like real people do.”
”Ah, but who said I wanted to have a conversation with you?”
Lucy pressed her lips together. This man was awfully hard to get along with.
”That’s fair, I guess.” She nodded.
Silence fell between the two as Cooper continued to clean the gun. Once he was finished cleaning the sawed off shotgun, he began to load it.
Lucy sighed, bored out of her mind. Cooper wasn’t entertaining at all. She messed with the cuff on her suit to try to keep herself occupied and to try to keep her mouth shut for a little bit longer.
“Do you love her?” The question kind of just came out without Lucy really realizing what she had said.
Cooper dropped the bullet that he was trying to shove into his gun. It made a loud banging noise as it hit the floor.
“What in the hell did you just say to me, Miss MacLean?” He looked at her, his eyes dark and sharpened.
The use of her name made Lucy feel on edge. He had always just called her Vaultie.
“I-I was just— I just see the way you guys are with each other. I didn’t mean it in-in a bad way, you know?”
The ghoul was silent as he held her gaze. He leaned forward to retrieve the bullet from the ground. He shoved it into the gun and placed the gun on the table.
The front door to the house creaked open. Lucy turned her head to see. You and Alma walking in.
“How’d you sleep, honey?” Alma put her hand on Lucy’s shoulder. The vault dweller opened her mouth to answer but Alma spoke over her. “Howard, if you don’t get your damn guns off my table, I’m gonna beat the piss outta you.”
Cooper didn’t offer any sort of smart comment back. He just picked up each gun and tucked them into their appropriate holster.
“I slept well, thank you. Where, uh, where did you guys go?” Lucy asked, turning her attention to you.
“Had to make a run early this morning.” You placed your backpack on the table, pushing some of the junk back so you had space. You rummaged through the bag before pulling out a stimpack. ”How’s your ankle feeling?”
”Really bad, actually. It’s super sore and looks very bruised.” Lucy eyed the giant needle at the end of the stimpack. “What’s, um, what’s that for?”
”You’re ankle. You can’t travel with a busted ankle and we can’t stay here.”
”But what is it?”
”A stimpack. It will heal your ankle up enough to get you back on your feet.”
With no warning, Cooper stood up and left the room rather hastily. Old floorboards creaked beneath the weight of his worn boots.
“What crawled up his ass?” Alma pushed her glasses back on to her head to hold her hair back out of her eyes.
“I don’t know.” You hummed. You listened to him move around in one of the back bedrooms.
He wasn’t a chatty person by any means, but surely he would’ve greeted you and Alma with some sort of witty remark. And you were very positive he would’ve given Alma an asinine remark about his guns on her table.
“What happened while we were gone?” You turned your attention to Lucy.
“I-I was just trying to talk with him.” She put her hands up, shaking her head.
“And…. Boy is he difficult to have a conversation with.”
You sighed heavily. Why couldn’t the vaultie get it through her head that sometimes she needed to shut up?
“I’ll be back in a second, Alma.” You looked over to your friend before going down the hallway to the bedroom Cooper was in.
He stood leaning against the side of the open window. He was fidgeting with his breather, replacing the empty vial with a full one.
”You leave me with that girl again, woman, and you’re gonna be scrapin’ what’s left of her brain off of Alma’s walls.” He grumbled.
You pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of your jacket.
“She’s got a way of getting under your skin.” You put the cigarette between your lips and tucked the carton away, then pulled out a lighter. “What’d she say?”
”Don’t matter.” He took a puff of the breather. You held the cigarette out to him and he gladly took it, crossing the room and closing the space between the two of you in just a few strides.
You watched as he put the cigarette in his mouth and took a deep drag from him.
“I’ll fuckin’ gut her like a pig next time she tries to talk to me.”
”You don’t mean that.” You shook your head gently.
He exhaled the cigarette smoke right into your face, then took another quick puff of it.
”Like hell I don’t.”
You took the cigarette from between his fingers.
“She means well.”
Cooper watched you, his gaze still hard and angry. You inhaled the cigarette.
“What did she say to you, Cooper?” Your voice was quiet.
He looked down at you for a while. Then let out a breath and adjusted the hat on his head, casting his eyes downward to his boots.
”We need to be leavin’.”
Without another word, the Ghoul slipped past you to go down the hallway.
taglist: @green--beanie @mack-attack420 @miniemonie2001 @eykismyfav @fallout-girl219 (I think I tagged anyone but I’m so sorry if I missed you!)
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bubonicc-writing · 1 day
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The Rebound
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Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3194
Summary: It's been a long time since Cooper has felt a loving touch. Perhaps a little too long because he's not entirely sure what to do with you.
CW: Semi-slow burn, smut, P in V, creampies, loving on a crispy man who needs it real bad. Prob ooc because this is my first fallout/reader fic ever (sowwy)
Cooper was a hard man to break. Downright standoffish and a straight-up jackass. At least that was what he was like when you first met him. Charismatic, confident, an excellent shot, but god, was he a prick. That, though, you had gotten used to the longer you traveled together. As the months dragged on, that standoffishness started to shed from the Ghoul. 
It started with random small talk picking up between you two as you travel between settlements. For the first few months together, it was mostly silence or business talk traded between you. Who was the next bounty? Where were they last? Can you scavenge while I get intel? It was all just business. That was until one night, Cooper started making small talk between their travels. Then came the soft conversations by the fire when they settled for the night. Every week, the weight of that duster and those guns on his back seemed to lighten the more he talked to you. Then came the offered cantine of water on a scorching day. Already an out-of-the-ordinary gesture from him, more so because your cantine wasn’t empty and he was offering his for a sip.
You took it.
The small talk turned into jokes with hushed laughs between you. As Cooper drawled on, you watched him over the campfire's tip. The light it threw cast beautiful shadows along Cooper's features, and when that crooked ass grin warped his lips more and more, you felt a tinge in the center of your chest. A little candlelight flickering and quivering whenever he spoke in that long drawl. It blazed when his eyes flicked up at you, staring at you in a way that made it seem like he could see right through you. It was like he could see that candle burning just for him.
Now, when the two of you slept, you were no longer on opposite sides of the room. You both started to creep toward each other every night until you were only a few feet apart. Cooper never laid down when he slept. Instead, he leaned against the wall and semi-slouched. He’d tilt his hat downward until the brim hid his eyes. Finally, he would cross his legs and arms before drifting off. You, on the other hand, preferred your bedroll. While not much, it was still better than the barren floor or the questionable mattress they occasionally came across. 
Tonight, a storm was coming through, bringing billowing winds and harsh rain that pounded the roof of the abandoned gas station they had sheltered in. You had tried hours ago to sleep, but the chill from the wind crept between the broken boards and cracked windows. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to get warm in any position. You flopped over one more time, now facing where Cooper was slouched against a wall a good two feet from you. His brim was cast down, covering his eyes as usual, but from how still he was, you figured he had fallen asleep a while ago.
 Chewing your lip, you hesitated momentarily before scooting towards him and bridging the gap. Snuggling up against his hips and thighs, you sighed contently. He smelled of gunpowder and smoke, typical. Slumber tugged at your eyelids, and you finally drifted off within minutes.
A light sleeper for obvious reasons in this hellhole of a wasteland, Cooper had awoken the second you had touched his leg. He waited for you to settle before opening one eye halfway and staring down his brim at you. Studying your peaceful expression and how you pressed your nose into his thigh. Two rouge strands of your hair had fallen against your cheek, slightly curled at the tips.
A former version of himself would have shoved you away, telling you to git back to your side of the station. Except the current version of himself felt something swirling around in his chest. It was slightly uncomfortable but not all too unfamiliar.
It was a sensation he hadn’t felt for over a hundred years, something that longed for that little touch and craved so much more. It flopped around behind his ribcage, and he grits his teeth in annoyance.
Sighing and looking back down, he shifts gently. Bringing one hand down and outstretching two fingers, he tenderly brushes the hair strands behind your ear. With that, he recrosses his arms and sits back, eyes closing.
As the months continue, so do they, but Cooper is different at night. His expressions are somber, his eyes distant while he sharpens his knives. Deep in thought, sometimes it takes calling his name twice before he looks up at you.
“Coop, are you alright?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed together in concern. You were annoyed when he smiled and chuckled softly, telling you he was peaches and cream. You didn’t push the matter and didn’t have to because he mentioned his daughter three nights later.
He spoke slowly, hesitantly, wondering if he should even be saying any of this to you in the first place. He wasn’t a vulnerable man, not anymore, anyway. 
He spoke, and you listened, night after night, as more pieces of the puzzle of this mystery man fell together. Under all those clothes and behind all those guns, Cooper was still just a man—an ordinary man.
“You’ll find her Coop,” Reaching over from where you were sitting at his side, you placed your hand on his wrist and gently squeezed it, “I know you will.” 
Cooper didn’t respond, but a smile so tiny it almost went missed curved the corners of his lips.
As you lay in your bedroll that night, you felt something shift against your front. Opening your tired eyes halfway, you watched through blurry vision as Cooper lay down next to you. His back was to you, but you scooted against his spine without a second thought. Resting your cheek between his shoulder blades, you closed your eyes again. 
Eventually, Cooper lay facing you. Without saying anything, he would hook your waist and tug you against his chest. Then, you would feel him resting his chin on your head. The first time he had done it, your face burned so hot you feared you might catch ablaze. If Cooper noticed, he didn’t say. No matter, you didn’t want him to stop, and you were sure he didn’t want you to, either. 
In truth, Cooper would be lying if he ever said he didn’t like the sensation of your small palms against his chest. He loved how you played with the buttons on his dirty shirt until you fell asleep.
Each night, you did the same thing, chest to chest, until finally, one night, you nuzzled your face into the nook of Cooper's neck. Soft and plump lips grazed across his scarred skin before placing a gentle kiss on Cooper’s jawline. 
Immediately, Cooper stiffened against you. You felt his fingers tracing lazy patterns on the small of your back pause. You heard him swallow suddenly, and your stomach sank as you expected him to push you away and scold you. 
Instead, Cooper cleared his throat and nestled his chin harder against the top of your head. 
Days in the wasteland dragged on usually, but the following days felt like an eternity since that night. Bounty after bounty, caps collected, and supplies scavenged, Cooper never once brought it up. Instead, he carried on as usual, which, in truth, made your heartache.
It was possible that even after all of this time, the candle he had ablaze in your chest was not mutually lit. 
What you didn’t know was that Cooper's heart had bounced out of his chest and into his throat that night. He didn’t think it was even possible for his cheeks to flush, but damn, they felt hot. It was alien; over 200 years of feeling the kiss of bullets, he had forgotten what a real one felt like. It was incredible but also terrifying.
 He had loved, and he had lost. 
The nights following the kiss, Cooper waited for you to make a move again, but you didn’t. You slept with your back to him and didn’t move when he pressed against you and draped an arm over your waist. After a few minutes, he felt your fingers intertwine with him in a gentle grip. 
The two of you stayed linked that night.
The following night, Cooper watched as you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your boots, getting ready to sleep after a long day of tracking a bounty through the unforgiving sun. Reaching up, you released your hair from its loose bun and let your locks fall messily over your shoulders.
You half turned when you felt Cooper grab your hand. Watching him bring it to his lips, he kissed your palm and pressed your hand against his cheek.
The brim of his hat temporarily hid his eyes, but when he looked up at you, your heart fluttered. No words were exchanged as you slowly leaned forward, having to stand on your toes even to come close to his marred lips. Centimeters away, you paused, but Cooper filled the gap.
The first kiss was gentle, and your free hand came up to cup Cooper’s other cheek. When you broke away, it wasn’t for long. Reconnecting, your kisses became hungrier, and your hands on Cooper's cheeks drifted downward. Running over his neck, then his collar and chest. You worked your way down as he kissed you until you palmed at his groin.
“Wait,” Cooper pulled away suddenly, stepping back, “wait…fuck” He turned on his heels, pacing back and forth. 
“What’s wrong?” You ask, watching him shake his head and curse to himself. “Coop?”
Once he stopped pacing, he sighed and shook his head before glancing over his shoulder at you.
“I don’t think I have it in me no more, sweetheart.” He laughed softly at himself. 
“What do you mean?” Taking a step towards him, she watched as he finally turned to face her.
“It’s… been a long time. A really long time, sugar.” Too long, really, at least, that is what he thought anyway. Nobody had touched him like this since before the bombs. Nobody had loved him. The only thing he knew now was blood, bullets, and ass jerky.
“Coop,” You said softly, moving towards him and wrapping your arms around his towering frame, “let me take care of you for once.” There was silence before Cooper rested his chin atop your head and laughed. Slowly, his hands came up to rest on your hips, his thumbs dipping under the fabric of your shirt to rub at the soft skin there. 
Looking up, you place a chain of kisses along his jawline. Meanwhile, one of your hands pressed against his back snaked back to his front. There, you worked your way down again until you felt the subtle tent in his pants. You palmed it gently, drawing out soft groans from your Ghoul. He shifted in place, sliding his chin off your head and burying his face between the nook in your neck. His hips lean forward into your touch, and you purr at that.
“That’s it,” you whisper, working the top button until it pops. Next, you slide his zipper down and slide your hand inside. “I’ve got you.”
Upon grabbing his stiffening cock, you feel him tense against you, even sagging a little bit as you start to stroke. Your thumb rubs over his swollen head, spreading the generous amount of precum around. You feel it pulse against your palm, and you can’t help but smile when Copper’s breath stutters against your neck.
“Fuck darling,” He drawls, “You know how to drive a man mad.” Bringing his hands up from your hips, Cooper knots his fingers into the back of your shirt. It doesn’t take long to have him unraveling. You can feel his thighs trembling and his grip tightening the closer he gets to release. Like butter, he is melting and fast.
Each new noise you pull from him causes a feverish heat to swell over your form. Your stomach flips, and you feel your heat clench with desire. As much as you would like to keep your composure, you lean into him, pressing your forehead into his shoulder as you stroke faster and faster. 
The choked growl Cooper lets out is the only warning you get before hot fluid coats your palm and wrist. His hips lurch in your grip twice before he suddenly sags hard against your form. Finger still twisted in your shirt, he finally lets go and lets his arms swing heavily by his sides. His legs are like jelly, and it takes him a moment to stand up semi-straight, his hat slightly crooked. He looks drunk, his eyes glossy, that stupid ass grin you loved smeared across his lips.
“That good, huh?” Stepping back to give him a little breathing room, you pluck the first few buttons of your shirt open. Allowing your shirt to part and fall from your shoulders, your breasts become exposed. With your other hand, you reach down and open the first button of your pants.
“Well then,” You coo, “come on then bounty hunter.” You shimmy your pants and panties off, kicking them off to the side, leaving your form raw to his eyes. “Come and get it.”
There was no need to ask twice. Rushing forward, Cooper grabbed your hips and slammed your forms together. Your lips crashed together again and again, and you whined into his mouth, horribly needy. You didn’t doubt Cooper had seen the slick glistening on your inner thigh.
Pushing you backward, you allowed Cooper to guide you to your bedroll. Once close enough to it, he kicked his foot out, hooked his heel around your leg, and pulled it out from under you. As you fell backward, he fell with you, landing flat on his palms. Towering over you now, eyes ablaze as they drink in your beet red face and beautiful puffy pink breasts. 
“You’ve been wantin' this for a while, haven’t yah?” Lifting one of his hands and pressing it against your soft belly, he drags it down towards your heat. Without warning, he slides his middle and ring finger through your folds, running over your sensitive clit. You gasp, tossing your head back.
“Ngh! Fuck!” Looking up between your bodies, you watch as Cooper drags his fingers up and down over and over, teasing your swelling clit. “Fuck Coop, fuck!”
“Well,” He growls, “Who am I to keep a lady waitin'?” Without warning, his middle and ring finger coast downward and dip deep into your gushing cunt. The squeal that escapes your lips has Cooper chuckling. He presses deep into you, humming as your walls grip his digits. 
Burying himself knuckle deep over and over, a squelching noise is followed by each hand thrust. You lift and twist your hips from the intense waves of pleasure. Only when you feel Cooper withdraw his fingers do you flop down, panting harshly.
Through half-lidded and blurry eyes, you watch Cooper bring his hand between you. He inspects them before spreading his two fingers apart, a tendril of thick fluid connecting them.
“You get this wet for everybody else? Or just little o’l me?”
Turning your head away in embarrassment, you feel Cooper grip your chin and return your gaze to him. 
“Eyes on me.” He growls as he rolls his hips forward, running his stiff cock between your slick folds. The head bumps your clit, and for a moment, you think you see stars. Over and over again, he grinds against you, littering your chest with kisses in the meantime. 
When you finally feel him lean back and press his head against your opening, he hesitates. 
“It’s okay,” you whisper as you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb over his cheekbone. “I’ve got you.” Sliding both arms around his neck, you gently tug him into your warm embrace. One hand rugs between his shoulder blades while your other rubs the back of his neck.
Allowing himself to lean forward, he nuzzles into the side of your neck before biting the soft flesh. 
Rolling his hips forward, he breaches and slides into you with ease. Gasping and choking out a soft cry, you feel him bury himself to his hilt. Hip connected to hip for a brief moment, he finally drags himself out. Rolling forward, the pase is slow, perhaps even loving, before your Ghoul gets hungry.
It doesn’t take long before your hips are slapping together. You can’t stop the sobs of pleasure that break past your lips with each sharp snap of his hips. Digging your nails into his shoulder blades, you feel your eyes cross when the head of his cock punches that sweet, sweet bundle of nerves.
“Oh fuck, Cooper!” Your back arches off of your bedroll, “F-fuck! I’m… I’m” The hot waves of pleasure radiating from your belly to your groin all the way down your trembling thighs to your toes are winding too tight. “I’m gonna cum!” 
He didn’t slow down and instead angled himself better to strike that little bundle of nerves that had your eyes rolling back. It took two hard hits before he felt your beck snap into a tight arch. He felt your chest bump hard against him, and your hips twisted to the right as your climate ripped you apart.
Head thrown back, mouth wide open, no sound came out of you as your climax held you prisoner.
Above, Cooper's thrusts started to become sloppy, losing their rhythm as your cunt clamped down on him spasmodically. As much as he tried to hold on, it had been too long, and you had felt too good.
Grunting hard into the side of your neck, you felt a warmth bloom in your groin as Cooper spilled everything he had left into you. He slammed your hips together, holding you in place and burying himself as deep as he could, pumping you full. The sensation had goosebumps blooming across your skin as your body finally deflated back down against the bedroll. 
With eyes half-lidded and glossy, you made out the foggy shape of Cooper still hunched over you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Every other breath was a soft wheeze. Sweat had beaded on his forehead, and a droplet fell and landed on your chest.
Leaning back and sliding himself from your heat, a thick flood of cum followed. You shivered at the sensation and watched as Cooper lowered himself against your form. Resting his head between your breasts, he inhaled sharply and sighed.
Lovingly, you stroked the back of his neck, enjoying the sensation of his hot breath against your breast.
Together, you lay like that while listening to the rain from a passing storm plink against the tin roof.
When you looked down, Cooper's eyes were closed, and his breathing had finally leveled. Letting your head fall back, you closed your own eyes and smiled.
For once, the wasteland was at peace.
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rebelliousstories · 3 days
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Not Like The Movies
Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: Yes by Anon
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Violence
Word Count: 1,688
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Summary: How Cooper got landed with someone of her sunny disposition, he will never now. And it does not help that she knows his films.
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“Good morning, you cutie. Oh who’s the best little girl ever?” A feminine voice brought Cooper out of his deep slumber. His eyes had to adjust to the bright light outside that flooded the building they had stayed the night in. He looked around for the source of the noise and was relieved to see it was just his partner playing with DogMeat. The man sat up from the bed that was miraculously in the building that probably used to be someone’s house and began to roll the sleep from his muscles and bones.
“Well, good morning to you, cowpoke.” She greeted, allowing the dog to roam around wherever she pleased.
“Mornin’ sweetheart. Whatcha doin’ up this early?” He asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His boots hit the floor right next to where his partner was, as she sat up on her knees to pull him in close. Physical affection was something Cooper was still not used to after all this time, but he was slowly coming around to it. All of the affection happened behind closed doors, or in this case, a closed house. He still had an image to maintain after all.
“Couldn’t sleep, so I spent some time with Bella.” She said cheerfully into his chest. Cooper just sighed and rubbed his eyes.
“Don’t go naming the thing. Then you’ll get too attached and then you’ll be depressed when it dies.” He groaned out, shifting their bodies so their eyes met.
“But she can’t be named ‘DogMeat’. That’s not a proper name,” came her cry. She laid on the puppy eyes really thick.
“DogMeat is a proper name because that’s what it is.” He argued back, tilting her head up by her chin.
“Fine,” she relented, and smushed her face back into his chest. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Well, gotta head into town now. Stock up on some supplies, gather a new bounty hopefully.” Cooper pressed a kiss to her hair, and shuffled so that he could pull both of them up to stand.
“You gonna behave when we get into town?” He drawled, voice leaning into dangerous territory. His partner giggled and nodded her head.
“Of course, Coop. When am I not?” She inquired, biting her lower lip. That woman knew the easiest way to get Cooper riled up was to do just that motion right there. Because, in an instant, his eyes were locked on to her lips.
“What about back in Filly where you kept smilin’ at folks, leaving me to save you from someone’s fist in your face? Huh?” Howard recalled, watching her shift in his arms as she, too, recounted their last adventure into town.
“How was I supposed to know?” Her whimper made Cooper weak, but he had a job to do today.
“Just tone down the sun a little bit, alright? Maybe a nice cloudy day instead of bright ass sunshine.” He offered, bringing her face back up to his. She nodded and stood on her toes to reach his face. Cooperate, ever the gentleman, met her halfway and locked their lips together. They moved as one, letting their lips slide across the other’s. Hands roamed freely, and it was starting to look like they were not going to be making it to town soon. That is, of course, until DogMeat came back in the room with a dead iguana in her mouth. She dropped it on the floor, and pawed at the man and woman who were locked in their embrace. The Ghoul groaned as his partner detached them in favor of tending to the dog he claimed he did not want.
“Good girl. Such a good hunter.” The baby voice was back. Seeing that the dog was getting the attention now, Cooper moved to grab all of his effects from where they were strewn about the room. His duster sat upon his shoulders, while his hat found its spot on his scarred head.
“Come on. Let’s get goin’.” He stated definitely. His saddle bag was slung across his shoulder, and his hand helped navigate his partner through the abandoned house.
They began their trek into town, which thankfully was not too long of a walk. DogMeat followed on the other side of Cooper, hot on his heels. He kept his eyes peeled as they drew further and further into the town. There was a pharmacy, a trader’s hut, several food stalls, and even a mechanics repair shop. Plenty for the two of them. Turning to his partner, he passed her some caps and pointed towards a couple stalls.
“Go get you some dried meat, and get a box of ammunition. Don’t smile so much, alright?” Cooper stressed. She nodded in return and patted his arm as she left with DogMeat.
The Ghoul made his way into the trader’s hut first to find a new bounty that was around. Thankfully, the woman behind the counter had one, and it was simple enough. Someone had not paid her what she was owed, and now she had a hat out on the man. He accepted half of the caps upfront, before moving on to the pharmacy next door. Cooper’s eyes caught his partner and DogMeat traversing the stalls, already having several pouches of meat in her bag.
Which is why he was not afraid to leave her alone while he took his time getting his chems from the pharmacy. Being a ghoul certainly had its drawbacks; the stares, reputation, and fear. But it also held some positives; the stares, reputation, and fear. It certainly helped when acquiring what he needed for a reasonable price. A commotion caught his ears from outside, but he was not afraid that it was his partner.
Until he stepped outside. Cooper saw his partner being crowded against a pile of sheet metal while DogMeat kept barking up a fuss. The dog ran over immediately to the man and began to drag him by his duster over to the woman.
“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t play hard to get.” Some man crept into her space, making her cower down even further. Based on what he could see, and the description the trader gave, this must have been the bounty. She did mention that he tended to go where he pleased like he owned it all.
“Please. Let me go.” She whimpered. Her voice was full of fear and worry, and Cooper was not about to let that stand.
“Everyone’s got a price. I can pay whatever your price is.” He continued, placing his hand on the woman’s waist.
“I do believe the lady asked you to let her go.” Cooper finally made his way over. The man turned around, and smiled with blackened teeth.
“Don’t worry, Ghoul. Once I’m done with her, I’m sure you can have a turn. Certainly don’t wanna do it the other way around.” He laughed, as if what he said was the funniest thing in the world. Cooper began to chuckle lowly as he peeked his eyes out from the lip of his hat. Catching his partner’s eyes, she felt relief as she saw her savior in western gear.
“See, she might be bein’ nice and askin’ you to let her go. But I ain’t that nice. So now I’m tellin’ you to let her go. Now.” Cooper growled, feeling his patience wear thin.
“Or what, Ghoul?” The man never got to hear another response. In a flash, Howard had aimed his gun and fired on his legs. Blowing both of them off, the not-so-tough man now crumbled to the ground, screaming and crying, pleading for the ghoul to have mercy on him.
“Well, ain’t that some shit.” The Ghoul growled, tying a rope around the torso of the man, and began to drag him to the trader’s hut. He focused on the task at hand, knowing that DogMeat would take care of anyone else that had dared get close to her owner.
Walking out of the trader’s hut, Cooper’s eyes scanned the town as he tried to find her partner. He found her, hugging her lugs, stuck in the same place that she was being held. DogMeat was chowing down on the legs that were left. His pocket felt heavy with the weight of the caps, but all that mattered now was taking care of her.
“You alright there, sweetheart?” Howard held a hand out for her to grab onto, and she did. Eagerly shoving her face into his chest and letting out a shaky breath as she processed the events that had just unfolded.
“I’m good. Can we go please?” Her words were muffled in his shirt, but he understood them plenty. Calling for DogMeat, Cooper led the three of them out of the town and into somewhere more secluded. Once they were there, tears fell from her eyes as the weight of what happened fully caught up to her. He set her down on something resembling a chair, and squatted down in front to check her over.
“You saved me.” She whispered, letting her partner do what he needed to do.
“Course I did. What’d you expect? Me to leave you with that man?” He countered with a ridiculous tone.
“It’s like one of your old sheriff films.” Her giggles matched his groan as he dropped his head.
“This ain’t the movies, darlin’.” Cooper looked up at her.
“It’s kinda like the movies.” She replied, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to bring him in close.
“I can always take you back to that town and leave you there.” He stated in her shoulder. She giggled again.
“That’s not very sheriff-y of you.” Every time he thought he had won, she proved him wrong.
“Alright,” he stood up and took her with him, “let’s get moving. Maybe if we’re lucky we can find another house to sleep in.”
“Ooo, do you think we could find one with a television and a few films?” She teased, already walking off away from town. Cooper groaned, but caught up to her and kept her underneath his arm as they walked away from that town.
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