midryss
Unapologetic Degeneracy
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— mine, all mine
cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 4.2k
tags: jealous!cooper, sort-of alternate timeline (includes a fo4 character for fun), partners-with-benefits, mutual yearning, light angst, fingering, oral sex, one pussy slap, come marking
prompt: something where he's possessive and jealous. anything that would cause a man like The Ghoul to get jealous. He needs to remind everyone (including her) who she belongs to.
Cooper doesn’t take kindly to the man you picked up, even if he himself had made the deal to escort him to New Vegas. Not liking their old-world charm, that easy smile. Can’t be up to any good, and he hates that you might be falling for it.
It has him thinking that he just might have to remind you of a few things. Set you straight. Make sure you don’t forget who you belong to.
You can’t help the little laugh that bubbles in your throat, as you follow through the door at Cooper’s heels.
Seeking shelter for the night, after a long day on the road. Something different than the usual bounty. Escorting a man through the Mojave Wasteland, to New Vegas. Following another lead, they had said.
He had seemed capable enough, but didn’t know the area. His home was far to the east, not used to the harsh desert sun, the creatures that lurked here. A heavy bag of caps offered that neither one of you could say no to. Enough to buy a couple months worth of vials, and that meant more to you than anything.
“No shit. It really worked?” You glance back at the man from over your shoulder. The handle of your gun a familiar weight in your hand, as you check the hallways after your partner, “You really were him, costume and everything?”
“The Silver Shroud, in the flesh.” Nate flashes you a straight, white-toothed smile, “Calling cards and everything.”
Your head shakes in amazement. He was interesting - full of stories that didn’t seem possible to be true. Leader of the Minutemen. A retired veteran from before - or so he tells you.
Hard to believe such a thing could be true. It has you distracted - your boot catching on an overturned side table, a set of chairs.
A little yelp as you tilt off-balance. The Ghoul turning, a gloved hand stretching out out - but there’s already another at the small of your back, another at your elbow.
“Careful now, sugarbomb.” Nate huffs in your ear, steadying you until you catch your balance.
It has heat flaring in your cheeks - at his words and how you embarrassed yourself in front of both of them. Ignoring the hand, and winding yourself free, giving the mess of furniture a wide berth instead of stepping over as they did.
“Did you hear about him on the radio?” You ask Cooper instead, trying to change the subject.
Instead of an answer, the Ghoul gives you a rough grunt. Turning away from you, fingers tracing over the thick bullets lined up in his bandolier.
“Gonna sweep the second floor.” He rasps, “Stay put, alright?”
He must not have heard you, too busy concentrating on clearing the space.
You nod, a little flutter in your belly at his words as he leaves you. A hint of protection in them, layered deep. He hadn’t spoken much since he picked up this job. Eyes always watchful, fingers curled around the handle of his gun.
But you didn’t think there was anything too dangerous about Nate. He seemed nice - filling the space that you leave for him with his stories. The days traveling has been spent quickly, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry when you hear how he’d lost everything.
His wife, and his son. Waking up after it was all over - alone.
You wonder how he could press on, be so cheerful now. But you suppose someone could learn to shoulder a lot, after so many years had passed.
It has you shivering, in the old apartment. Thick brick walls - the radiators are long dead, the cold seeping through the cracks in the window panes.
“Hey.” You hear behind you. Nate’s shoulders flexing as he peels his leather bomber jacket off, fingers hooking under the collar as he holds it out to you.
The worn vault suit underneath clings tight to his chest. Silver threading through his dark hair, peppering his beard at the curve of his chin. Handsome, in an old-world way - something you haven’t been able to help noticing.
Not that you’re interested.
It’s only because he makes you think of him, a little. The same strange way of saying things. Phrases you don’t know from your time growing up in the wasteland.
And you can’t pretend you haven’t wondered, just a tiny bit. What Cooper might have been like, before.
Part of you had thought that would make them a little more friendly - that point of connection between them - but the Ghoul has been wrapped up in thorns for days now.
Distant even, but you think you get it. Suppose he thinks it’s safer, this way.
“Oh,” It takes you a second to accept his offering. Not used to generosity without a price. A soft sigh when you shrug it on - the fabric warmed by his body heat, “Thank you. Are you sure? It’s just, these old buildings-”
“This is almost warm compared to where I come from,” He smiles, shooting you a wink, “Least I can do, with what you’re doing for me.”
There’s a sweep of his eyes, as your hands slip through the sleeves - a considering tilt of his head, “Looks better on you, anyways.”
The compliment sends an uneasy ripple across your skin, a warm heat in your cheeks. His easy charm sets you on edge - not used to words and tones like his. Not knowing what to do with it - your eyes flicking towards the staircase.
There’s a pause, before he’s inhaling a breath.
“Listen. About your… associate,” Nate takes a step towards you, his voice lowering, “I don’t know if you owe him caps or something, but if you need to split, you’re welcome to come with me.”
It stuns you for a second. How he thinks you might need help, that you’re indebted.
“Oh!” You manage - that eye contact breaking, as you search for words, “I’m not. We’re actually, uh-”
But you don’t have a straight answer. Involved, perhaps. You wouldn’t say together, as much as you wished it would be. Companions is too soft a word for the path you travel together.
His word - associate - too formal.
“Really?” Nate’s voice tips up - just before his eyes dip down you and back up, in a quick circuit, “Huh. Good for him, then.”
The silence that lingers is stilted. His hands raise, with the lift of your brow.
“Didn’t mean any harm,” Nate replies easily, “Just, if you change your mind… it’d be good to have you on the road with me.”
Leaving you then - letting the offer hang as he pokes around in the side rooms.
Another thing that you had found fascinating - the junk that he carries with him. Not just old tape but bottles of adhesive, cans of oil. Broken hot plates, all tucked into his bag.
Your head shakes, as you move deeper.
Winding your way into the kitchen, picking through broken cabinets - snatching up cans of cram. Ending up in a study, through another door.
Books spill from the shelves. There’s an old, deep desk bumped up near a wall, the upholstered chair toppled over next to it.
A few of the novels catch your eye - nose dipping to inhale the familiar, musty smell of the pages as you crouch. Thumbing through them, trying to pick one or two to keep.
Engrossed enough that you don’t hear the creak of boots on wood. The low jangle of spurs, until the door is closing shut behind you.
There’s a slow, upward pull of your eyes, until you see the way he looms over you - eyes narrowing. A hard set to his jaw, a hand that curls around your bicep as he tugs you up and onto your feet.
“Something wrong?” You ask, as you catch the pull of his brow bone, “With the house, is it safe?”
“House’s fine,” He grits. A hand tracing up the zipper of the jacket, curling around the collar.
The frown deepens, as his eyes drag over you, “You take this off the Vaultie?”
Your eyebrows raise, “I didn’t take it off him. He gave it to me because I was cold.”
He clicks his tongue at that, one side of his lip curling. Stepping into your space, until you’re bumping up against that desk.
“Can’t leave you alone for a goddamn minute.” Cooper growls.
Fingers tracing up your sides until they’re fitting beneath the fabric at your shoulders, pushing the worn leather from them.
“What do you mean?” You frown - letting him. The evening chill isn’t so bad in here, the room tucked deeper into the house. No windows to let the evening air in.
“You know exactly what I mean, sugarbomb.” He drawls, acid in his tone, “Smoothie can’t keep his hands off you, can he?”
The jacket pools on the desk, a flick of his wrist sending it to the floor. You don’t know why the Ghoul is so angry - not when he’s made it clear this something between you is just a diversion.
Nothing more than business mixing with pleasure.
“It’s not like that.” You protest, though your mind flickers back to before. Cheeks burning as you shift back, but follows - crowding you, “He’s looking for his son.”
It has your hip pressing against a desk, his own fitting against yours. Hands flattening against the top of the desk, as he leans over you.
“Lookin’ to get his dick wet, more like.” His words are a low growl, “‘Sides, is that all it takes you get you starry-eyed? Fella lookin’ for his kid?”
There’s something in the way he says it. A tick in his jaw, the way his tone pushes at you. Needling deep, as if there’s something more to what he’s saying.
Your arms prop on your hips, “I’m not starry-eyed-”
“Aren’t you?” His head cocks, “You gonna be keepin’ his bedroll warm tonight, sweetheart?”
There’s mockery in his tone. A curl of his lip and bared teeth, all while his eyes catalog each and every expression.
Your hands press against his chest then, scoffing. Yes, Nate had flirted with you. Said you could come with him, but surely that wasn’t the reason why.
Was it?
“That’s ridiculous,” It comes out flustered, unconvincing, “He was married, he’s not-”
The Ghoul shifts, his hands fitting against your hips. Pushing, until you’re sitting on top of the desk, thighs spread so he can fit between them. Distracting you, though his look is no less fierce.
“That don’t mean much, sweetie,” He growls, “Key word here is was. Not gonna keep him from tryin’, I’ll tell you that much.”
And you think you get it now. His raised hackles from the very beginning, when Nate’s hand curled around yours.
Maybe he’d burn right up, if he had heard your conversation. You wonder if he caught any - drifting up through the floorboards. Sending him right down to you, to stake his claim.
It has you softening. Fingers hooking around the thick leather of his belt, tugging him flush.
“He can try all he wants, cowboy,” You shrug, looking at him from beneath your lashes, “It’s not gonna sway me. Was just being nice because he was.”
“Nice.” He echos, as his hands slip up to your waist. Fingers curling in the folds of your shirt, rocking you against him, “That what you think you want, sweetheart?”
There’s the dip of his head, and your eyes are closing. But he just hovers, close enough that you can feel the exhale of his breath. A jerk of his head when your chin tips up, seeking him.
“You think nice is gonna take care of you the way I do?” His hand drifts up - fitting at the curve of your ribs. Thumb brushing at your breast, as you suck in a breath.
“What are you doing?” You breathe, as your eyes open. A shiver at how close he is, how his crotch presses right against the seam of your pants.
His answer is a low rasp.
“Reminding you of a couple o’ things.”
There’s a familiarity in the way his other hand dips down. Those hazel eyes are still on yours, as he gives the button on your pants a sharp tug. A soft slide of the zipper.
Your fingers curl, holding on tightly. Anticipation sings in you, melding with the sharp flutter of nerves.
“W-We can’t,” It comes out as a stammer - your concentration torn. “He’s still-”
The Ghoul’s hand leaves you, but it’s only so his teeth can sink into the tip of a leather glove - the jerk of his head to pull his hand free. Already coming back to you, giving the fabric of your pants a sharp jerk downwards.
“‘s cute you think I give a shit.” He husks - his eyes dark, as he jerks his chin towards your hips.
They seem to move on their own. A hum of approval as they lift - so he can tug both layers down to your ankles, leaving them to tangle with your boots.
His hands are warm as they trace back up your bare thighs. Soothing the chill - forever warmed by the radiation that lingers in him. Your thighs spread wider without thought, though his fingers linger.
Tracing the soft skin, just where your thigh meets hip. Close enough that surely he can feel the heat that lingers there - the scrape of his nails against sensitive skin sending up goosebumps, as his tongue pinches between teeth.
Eyes caught on how easily you open for him. The way you clench in anticipation, shifting into his touch.
Another protesting whimper falls from your lips, the ghost of a smile as his eyes flip up to yours.
“You’re gonna tell me you don’t want this,” His thumb twitches against you, ghosting along your slit, “When I can see you practically droolin’ for me?”
He lifts his hand for emphasis, casually examining the sheen that coats the pad of his thumb. Head cocked as he waits - dragging it slowly along the flat of his tongue.
“I do want it,” It’s hushed, though no less needy.
His tongue peeks out again. Pinched between teeth, before ghosting across a lower lip - the taste of you lingering. You expect him to bend you over the table, or lay you back against it.
Instead, his fingers pluck the hat from his head. Dropping it onto yours, the brim distorting your view as he bends. Crouching - his left knee pressing into the floorboards, as he situates himself between your thighs.
It has your breath hitching. Another exploration of his fingers, thumb pressing against your folds. Tugging you open, examining you, just like he’d do for a piece of found scrap.
Heat floods through you. There’s no mistaking that he’s still calling every shot, even when he’s on his knees.
“Then answer my question.” His voice takes on a sharp edge, those eyes back on yours, “You think he could give you what you need?”
From here, you can see the pretty fan of his eyelashes. The flecks of gold and green in his brown eyes, each little pitted scar and shiny stretch of skin.
Your head shakes.
“No.” Your thighs inch wider - hips bucking into his touch, “Only you, Cooper.”
He growls at the sound of his name, his hand coming to cup against your cunt. Fingers insistent, where they nudge at your opening. The tips of two sinking into your heat, ripping a muffled gasp from you.
A low hum, when he feels how wet you are. How you wrap so warm and tightly around him - an obscene sound as he presses them deep.
Unable to hide how he affects you, not when the pace picks up, until the heel of his hand is grinding against your clit. Until you’re dripping against his palm.
Your moan is bitten back. Fingers curling around the edge of the desk, needing something to hold onto.
His pace is steady, but he’s just teasing. Fingers merely filling you, stretching you out. No careful curl - just bringing you to hover on a plateau, leaving you to clench around him with desperation.
“Please,” You whine.
Relief then, as his fingers hook. Dragging against your spongy inner wall, as you whimper in approval.
“Yeah?” He hums - watching how your brows pinch, when his fingers flex again, “Change your mind about gettin’ fucked, honey?”
Teeth clicking together with your bitten-back whine, needing to feel more than just the unhurried crook of his fingers.
“Yes. I need more,” Your hips lift with your answer - bucking into his touch, “Need your cock, Cooper. I’ve missed it-”
A dirty trick, to use his name again.
To beg, like this.
He knows it, a heartbeat lingering before his fingers begin to move with purpose. The tilt of his head, and then - his tongue is flattening against your slit. Giving you something else, instead.
You cry out before you remember where you are - your hand quick to press against your mouth to muffle the sound.
He groans at the taste of you, as it floods his tongue. A dark glitter in his eyes, you think he did this on purpose. Trying to pull those sounds from you.
This thought solidified as he begins to devour you. Licking you from clit to hole, dipping between his knuckles. Working the muscle in until he can feel you clench around it too, his own groan caught in his throat. Coming back up - lips wrapping around the tight bud as you gasp, nails biting into wood as you moan.
Ones you still try to hide. Your breath sharp through your nose, palm pressed flat against your mouth. But it doesn’t stop the squeak of the desk as your hips move. The sticky plunge of his fingers, the wet lap of his tongue.
Something molten pooling inside you, red-hot. He knows how much you can take, how the stretch of his fingers slips into something honey-sweet.
His head rears back, as his eyes open. A sharp click of his tongue, before his left hand curls like a vice around your wrist. Capturing the other - fingers spreading wide as he pins them against your belly.
A smirk that grows wider - more sinister - when you realize you won’t be able to hide your sounds any longer. When all you can do is accept what he gives you.
“Oh, don’t hold back, sweetheart.” He coos - a rough breath, as he sees your jaw grit, eyes screwing shut, “Want him to hear just what I’m doin to you.”
A tilt of his head - slow in the way he returns to you. A pointed thrust of his fingers, another one slipping into you. Tongue flicking lazily, before spit is pooling on his tongue.
Pressing his fingers deep, as it falls from his lips. Dripping down your slit, before he’s sucking on your clit again.
The keen that pulls from you is loud. Drawn-out, your breath hissed through your teeth.
He grins into your cunt, the words murmured against your skin, “That’s more like it. Atta girl.”
Taking, as he gives.
Guilt lingers in you - thinking about Nate, wandering in the house. Hearing the muted moans and cries as you’re devoured against the desk. It has your lips pressing harder together, though it does nothing to mute the pleasure that winds higher and higher.
But he notices. Of course he does - fingers slipping free, curling against your clit before he’s pinching it between his fingertips. Teeth nipping at your inner thighs, marks blooming against your skin.
Another cry loosens, as your hips jerk.
“Now I know you want my cock, sweetheart. Asked for it so nicely, after all,” He husks, as his head tips up, “But you’re not gettin’ it till later.”
A threat and a promise, layered in the heavy pant of his breath.
“Plan on takin’ you by the fire. From three feet away, if I have to,” His smile is near-feral, “Let him hear how pretty your pussy sounds taking me. Knowin’ he can’t touch.”
You moan at his words. At the pet of his fingers - each breath short, growing louder as he brings you close to the edge. Keyed up enough over the past few days - leaving you desperate.
And you think that maybe - he just might be as well. It’s there in the way his shoulders curl in. The spread and rock of his own thighs, where you can see the tent of his hard cock.
That desire to make you come tipping into something that feels like need.
“You know why he can’t?” He coaxes, his words a slow drawl.
His fingers flattening when you’re slow to answer - pleasure-drunk, landing a harsh tap against your cunt that has you gasping in shock.
“Because…” You search for the words, grasping at their hazy shapes, “Because I’m yours.”
It comes so easily, the things you’ve thought but never said.
His knees shift, hips tilting on their own. A rough sound in his throat, as he watches how your lips form the words.
“That’s right,” Cooper coos, “Good fuckin’ girl. Knowing who she belongs to.”
It does something to you. That desire blooming into something tangible, racing from your thoughts to the needy throb of your clit.
He can hear the change in your breath. How it pitches high, drawn out. No longer holding it back - unable to, as your vision starts to go hazy.
“You liked that, sweetheart? Knowin’ that you’re owned?” He rasps, “Fuckin’ close, aren’t you. Gonna come?”
“Yes,” You chant, “Make me come. Cooper, please-”
His hand leaves your wrists - your palms curling into his jacket as he loosens his own belt. Fist wrapping around his cock as his tongue replaces the swirl of his fingers.
A whine - loud, in the quiet room - when those three fingers sink deep again, filling you. Only a few deep plunges of of his fingers before your breath is catching, eyes going wide.
The cry catches in your throat, coming out ragged. Unmistakable for anything else, as your pussy tightens around him - that thudding beat that starts low, rippling through you.
Pulsing against his tongue. Stealing your strength, leaving you boneless as your fingers anchor themselves against his shoulders.
He groans into your cunt, as he feels you gush against his palm. The way he can taste your release as it leaks against his knuckles, his tongue dipping down to taste.
Greedy again, with his gaze. Fixed on how wrecked you are - rumpled clothes, how you’re still speared on his fingers, thighs slick with need.
No one else can ruin you so thoroughly. You both know it - it’s enough that he lets go, chasing his own end. An unsteady push to his feet, as his fingers slip free.
His other hand flattening against your abdomen, pushing you back against the desk. A messy twist of his fist, seeing the gape his fingers left behind - that tension twisting, about to snap in his own belly.
His cock is coated in your release, when he comes. A feral snarl as his fist jerks - harkening back to your first few nights together. Back when he held back from spilling inside you, the vials too precious to spend on a stranger.
Fingers twitching against your belly, keeping you pinned as his own moan slips through his teeth. A needy buck of his hips into the tight curl of his hand, a cruel mockery of where he imagines it buried. But it’s enough - another rough sound before ropes of his spend arc across your mound.
Warm against your skin, as he covers you. Dripping down against your slit when he angles himself, making a mess of your slick pussy.
It already has anticipation simmering, deep inside. Unsure if he was being serious about later - but the thought of him taking you nice and slow, drawing it out - you might not be able to ever look Nate in the eye, but christ, it could be worth it.
Though something hangs heavy, as he comes back down. His head lowers from where it tipped back in pleasure. The slow drag of the tip of a finger through his release, glossy against your skin, before he finds the hem of your underwear. Tugging it back into place as you whine in protest.
“Hush, now.” He coos - stroking you over the thin fabric. Seeing how his come seeps in. A teasing circle against your clit, before his palm presses flush. Smearing himself against your cunt.
Staking a claim, you think. He’s always let you clean up before. And this isn’t a punishment, though the wait will be torture.
Fingers smooth the faded fabric when he’s content, his radiation-reddened fingers fitting against the soft curves of your hips.
And, maybe now you understand.
“I’m not going to leave you, you know.”
It’s quiet, breathed out as you gaze up at him.
He almost flinches. A different kind of shudder that runs through him, fingers pinching hard where they dent your flesh.
“You should,” His jaw grits. Voice low, the words coming out hoarse, “If you had any sense.”
But you both know you have none. Not when it comes to him.
Your hands fit in his, as he tugs you off the table. The snug fit of your pants as you tug them back into place, already feeling how he sticks against your skin.
Thoroughly marked. Unable to help the clench as you think about later - missing the fullness of his fingers already. A wobble to your legs - a hazy remnant from your orgasm - as you right yourself, fitting everything back into its place. Before stooping, to grab the jacket off the floor.
Cooper’s hand reaches out - fingers beckoning. His own duster already shrugging off his shoulders. Bundled up, as he holds it aloft.
“You get cold again, you tell me.”
It’s gruff. An offering, with the extension of his hand. Swapping the bomber jacket for his. The worn fabric enveloping you as you tug it on, that greedy look seeping back as he takes in how you look in his things.
A little nod, before he’s turning - making for the door.
Leaving you to follow behind, hiding your smile.
this started a couple different ways (flirting with a bounty or with a bartender) but I thought it would be interesting to have Cooper in a situation with a genuinely good guy (Nate is the MMC in FO4 if you choose his route!) because that would surely and truly drive him nuts (rip what a couple to join up with) 💖 thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed!
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The fic I never knew I needed
The way I’ve wanted a slow-ish burn Nate x Nora x Hancock fic since 20-fucking-15.
Give me… Ghoul!Nate who wasn’t home the morning the bombs dropped, and has no clue his wife secured a place for them in the vault, or that she is still alive. Ghoul!Nate who was around for the Goodneighbor coup, and is one of Hancock’s closest friends and go-to muscle. Hancock who is so dang smitten over the vaultie who just rolled into town, only to realize it’s his best friend’s wife.
The angst. The pining. The ghoul shit.
Give me… Nate and Nora both surviving the vault — Kellogg didn’t shoot to kill/some kinda cryo science bullshit kept them alive through the remaining freeze — and it’s the three idiots just steadily coming together over time.
The friends to lovers pipeline. The “I love you both so much”. The “if anything happens to me take care of my spouse”.
Give me… that weird three-way soulmate au because I am the biggest sucker for soulmate au.
The “omg they have another soulmate”.
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Can we please get Cooper using that lasso to tie up his little Smoothie? 🙏🏻😩😩
abrasive
Summary: After a day of teasing, the Ghoul turns the tables and you find yourself bound up in one delicious hell of a predicament.
(warnings for: predicament bondage, rope play, sadism, abrasive play, clit torment, overstimulation, dom/sub dynamics, cruel teasing, cunt torment, nipple torment, hints of petplay, spitting, oral sex, slight dubcon)
Fic Masterlist
Link to AO3
"Hands up before I pin them up there with my knife, little viper."
In the sweltering heat of the desert, the wood of the abandoned barn feels warm against your back as Cooper slams you against the wall - his gloved hand harsh against your chest as he plants his fingers between your exposed tits to keep you there.
"Only way to keep you from mischief, sweetheart. Maybe you'll take a lesson from this and learn what happens when you tease a man without mercy."
He wasn't wrong. You had woken up with a wicked game in your mind and his attention throughout the day had been claimed by your hands and body as you took every opportunity to tease him; from brushing against his groin with your hips to bending to the floor with an exaggerated arch in your back, ass displayed high in the air and in definite view of his gaze.
For the most part, he had ignored you, but as you passed this old barn, you found your waist gripped by his rough hands as his hard cock pressed up against your ass.
Time for a pitstop, cowgirl.
A growled line which instantly flooded your cunt as you allowed yourself to be marched to the interior of the barn.
Cooper is as dexterous as ever as his hands lock around your wrists and quickly loop the end of his lasso around the joints, the roughened rope feeling extra abrasive against the sensitive skin as it's pulled tightly. The rope is raised - taking your hands with it - until he hangs it off an old rusted hook, the height enough that you are forced to stand with your back straight to keep the pressure off your arms.
Exposed tits bouncing freely in the hot air, Cooper pauses his rope work long enough to smack at your left tit with a playful strike - his gloved fingertips catching your erect nipple like a lightning strike which sends pained arousal careening across your skin.
Yelping at the contact, he repeats the strikes until your nipples are reddened and peaking and your mouth is drawn into a tight line as you fight the urge to cry out with a mild howl.
"Almost like udders." Cooper mutters with amusement as he pulls your left tit up to his dipping mouth, sucking your nipple between his lips as you give a shuddering sigh. It only lasts a moment before the feel of his blunted teeth pressing against the sensitive bud forces your back to arch off the wall as your fingers claw against their restraints.
"Cooper, please." You whine, feet stomping against the ground as he keeps up the cruel pressure for another few seconds before releasing your nipple. His sunken cheeks appear even deeper as his face remains dipped and you can see the flash of his teeth as he offers you up a wolfish grin.
"Easy, pet. Any good cowpoke knows that sometimes you've gotta check the product from time to time."
"M'not a pet." You deny hotly, unwilling to let the name slide even as it sparks a fresh wave of pleasure across your belly.
"No?" Cooper frowns and his voice takes on a playful, dangerous lilt as he grips your waist roughly. "You don't want to be a breeding cow for me, huh? Think you're better than that. Well, I hate to piss on your parade, little viper, but I think you'll change your mind on that one."
A sinking feeling, one plagued by arousal, trickles down your spine and you gasp as Cooper's hands grab the remaining rope that hangs free of your hands and he offers you a roguish wink before setting the new part of his plan into place.
With a considerable length of lasso left, he's careful to pass it through your legs, grunting as he pulls it tight against your cunt.
"Can't have you slipping free now, can I?"
His fingers adjust the rope and you grind your cunt into his hand, making his task even more difficult as he fights your arousal to ensure that the lasso is centred through your slit - each small movement forcing the material to brush roughly against your revealed clit in such a way that it sends sparks of lightning up your spine.
"Cooper!" You whine, his name rolling from your mouth like a plea as you attempt to curl your body away from the pressure; a futile effort as he simply tightens his grip and follows your thrashing body without much difficulty.
"Keep struggling, darlin', and I'll add something nasty to that rope so you feel it even worse."
Stilling your body as you don't doubt his threats for a moment, you allow him to finish tying the ends of his lasso to the restraints around your wrists. Now, every slight movement in your hands or back causes a fresh heat of friction to burn between your thighs as the rope scratches along your most sensitive skin.
Groaning as the rope grinds against your slickened folds, the pressure is almost unbearable on your clit and you step to your tip toes to try and alleviate some of the discomfort.
"See you in an hour. Try not to move too much, sweetie. I need something left between your lovely legs to fuck when i come back now."
Genuine anxiety alights in your face as you watch him walk away, your jostling against the rope making your exposed tits shake and cunt clench against nothing.
"Hey! Wait! You can't leave me like this!"
"Says who?"
"What if someone else comes?"
"Hrm." Making a small noise in his throat, Cooper turns on his heel as he strides back to your position. His fingers wind within your hair and pull your head high, igniting fire in your scalp. "Then maybe I should mark my territory."
Hawking his throat, you flinch as he spits on your cheek. Gasping, you turn your head to the side as the liquid drips free to your chest - trickling down between your tits to leave a ticklish sensation in its wake.
"An hour." He repeats and you follow his movements with your head as he disappears through the barn doors, slamming them shut with such force that you feel the wall behind you vibrate.
x-x-x-x-x
Time slowing to a snails pace as you remain pinned to the barn wall, by the time the hour has passed - your sorry body is in some state.
Arms aching from being held over your head, your wrists have a rawness to them as they twist against the ropes restraining them in a futile effort to find some desperate comfort. A trickle of sweat rolls down your chest at the effort and you wipe off your forehead on the side of your arm. Tits continuing to hang free in the warm air, the pucker of your nipples refused to settle as the constant arousal of your cunt has left you a sweating, suffering mess.
Every slight motion of your lower half is torture.
As soon as Cooper had left, you had immediately tried to play the situation to your advantage. Rolling your thighs and standing on tiptoes, you were able to manipulate the rope a bit as it rubbed at your clit with a maddening sensation - enough to have your breath coming in short pants but nowhere near the stimulation needed to make you come.
But, try you had, and all your efforts had succeeded in doing was making your cunt a swollen and dripping mess which took every movement as an opportunity to spark a fresh sear of heat in your overly sensitive flesh. Even spreading your thighs further hadn't helped as it only made the rope tighten against your punished slit.
Almost driven insane by the constant flux of pained pleasure and wicked stimulation, by the time Cooper reappeared, you were ready to beg forgiveness for whatever he wanted.
You missed his silent entrance, his hand tilting your chin up from the floor startling you into a solid jerk which only served to draw the rope across your clit with a sadistic intensity; a jolt of sensation which is too much and has you crying out in place of a greeting.
"Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?"
His hand already clawing its way within his slacks as he frees his livid cock - the hard length jutting free of his body with obvious interest - the expression on Cooper's face drips with his arousal.
"No." Almost sobbing with relief at the sight of him, you very carefully straighten your body and push your chest out to him as you await him freeing you. "Please, Coop. Let me free."
"Not quite yet." Cooper rolls his textured hand along his cock, jerking himself as he soaks in the thoroughly ruined state he has found you in. "It's quite the view. And how are these doing?"
Grunting as he fists along his cock, Cooper brings his free hand to your exposed chest as he pulls and plucks at your nipples with a vicious pinch. His touch is like lightning, the sharp pain of his fingers melting with the burning discomfort in your cunt as you can't help but pull away from his hand - the shift of your body allowing the rope to chafe against your clit in such a way that it sparks fresh tears in your eyes.
"Hurts, Coop."
"Naw, it ain't hurting, sweetie. You've barely been up there an hour. Maybe I'll leave you til the rooster crows and then you can really tell me how it hurts."
His hand drops to your cunt and you bawl like an animal as he uses his fingers to stroke along the rope - simultaneously feeling the mess of your arousal and dragging out a wicked spike of pleasure from your abused, sensitive flesh.
Thrashing in place at the rough treatment, the worst of it is the throbbing, deep arousal which makes you press into his hand as much you try to pull away. Your clit swollen like crazy due to the constant scouring, his fingers feel like lightning as they rub gentle circles around the sensitive nub.
"You gonna come for me, sweetheart?"
"Y-yes!" You howl, the word coming out as a stutter as the extra stimulation sends every nerve into overdrive. "Please- FUCK, Cooper. I can't, please."
Cooper rolled the rope between his fingers, clamping the coarse rope around your clit so that every abrasive millimeter clung to your most sensitive nub. It was torturous as heat scorched through your whole cunt, the intensity making your eyes water and toes curl against the floor.
It was a violent orgasm; one marked by the howl in your voice as you rode his cruel fingers and pained pleasure tightened your limbs while you came all over his hand. Your soaked cunt quickly making a mess of his fingers and the lasso which bound you as you writhed against it - every slight movement only pushing your body further into overstimulation.
Cooper pulled away and you collapse in an instant, the muscles of your legs trembling like jelly as your hands remained elevated. You could only vaguely muster the energy to grunt and squeal lowly as Cooper started to untie the ropes and free you from your bondage. When his fingers loosed the rope which clung to your cunt, a small groan of relief followed and, even to your own ears, it sounded pathetic as hell.
Cooper chuckled softly, allowing you to fall into the solid heft of his upper body as your legs struggle to support you. His fingers grope at your hips, the dull ache of his hold alerting you to the small, purple bruises which will no doubt mark the skin for the next few days.
"Now, since I've been such a gentleman and there ain't nothing in life free, I'm gonna let you fall to those trembling knees and you can suck me dry. Eh, sweetie? How does that sound?"
Clutching his duster like a lifeline as the head of his cock bumps messily against your stomach, you stand slightly bowlegged to keep the pressure off your cunt - the flesh feeling sore and swollen in the warm air.
"Yes, sir."
His hand tilts your head up to meet him once more, blazing eyes holding your own as he pins you with heated features.
"You gonna wrap those pretty lips around my ghoul cock and take everything I have to offer? If I don't feel you're doing the most then I'll pin you down and fuck what's left of you." His accented syllables flowing over the threat, Cooper's voice is so low that it sends a fresh shudder coursing through you.
"Smart choice, cowgirl."
You wince at the thought of his cock slamming into your abused hole and nod with enthusiasm, gently slipping yourself down his body as you fall to your knees.
Pleased with that, Cooper's gloved hand locks itself around the back of your head as you wetten your lips and prepare to accept him into your willing mouth.
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This is the dynamic I live for 👌
Ghoulcy is fine, Ghoulknight (is that what we're calling it?) is fine, peace and love on the planet earth etc.
But I'm putting my money on the Canon Ghoul-Lucy-Max dynamic ending up with Lucy and Max just being two sweet, somewhat chaotic angels in love while Cooper is just like
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Ain’t that some of the prettiest cross hatching you ever did see?
A drawing I’m working on of the Ghoul from the Fallout TV show.
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Hancock and Norman Reedus have the same thing going on like you could totally swap Hancock's canon voice with Norman Reedus doing pretty much anything and it would have the same effect
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*cough* Cooper *cough*
(Picture: credit to original owner)
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Little Beastie (The Ghoul x Fem Raider Reader NSFW)
Smut with plot PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU'RE A MINOR!
Warnings- Blood play, spanking, rough sex, hair pulling, fingering, p in v, creampie, knife play, addiction, choking, biting, overstimulation, light degrading, night terrors/nightmares
Word count- 10482 Yep it's a long one, you're welcome 😜
Summery-Coming off the chems and trying to turn your life around was a challenge considering you were brought up a raider, but you wanted more out of life. Wanting to escape all the rage and violence, an unlikely alliance with The Ghoul makes you question whether you're truly capable of leaving behind your psychotic tendencies, unless he can tame the beast.
Your lungs burned, muscles screamed, heart thumped hard through the adrenaline but you couldn't stop. Vicious snarls gained quickly on you as the Deathclaw chased you down.
It was just one bad affair after another with you lately. Escaping the clutches of your former raider clan by the skin of your teeth, before foolishly interrupting the dinner of one of the most feared beasts in the wasteland. All in all the past week has been pretty rough, but you were a survivor, determined and resilient.
You swerved and clambered frantically through crumbling buildings in an attempt to lose the beast on your tail. The wounds you had earned just days before from your so called "family" began to weep. There are few who can say they made it out of raider life, mostly because so few wanted to leave at all. It was all they knew after all. Being brought up following their barbaric ways most raider folk never thought twice about the savagery. Like a cult, they had you trapped. Loaded you with chems to keep you high, addicted to the feeling, to all the violence. But as the years went by, you began to refuse the chems and your thoughts became clearer. This isn't the life you wanted.
Of course your attempt at persuading the other raiders to drop the chems fell on deaf ears. You knew it was a matter of time before the "new you" would become another one of their victims. Just another nameless face piled on the bonfire. So in a final "fuck you" to your former clan you destroyed their supply. Making a very narrow escape with only the bare essentials in the process.
Those essentials didn't last long in the blistering heat of the desert. Nor did the ammo you foolishly used up on the Deathclaw you disturbed. Making matters worse you lost the crudely made pipe rifle a while back.
Skidding through the doors of what you can only assume was some sort of office before the bombs fell, you shot a quick glance behind you as the beast pounced.
"Shit!" You dove behind the pile of desks and file cabinets to avoid its clutches. Scanning around the room for something to defend yourself with, your eyes landed on a crate of alcohol at the bottom of a crumbling staircase. You ran for it, bottles clinked together as you used the momentum to pull the crate up to the second floor. Praying for a miracle, you tore rags of cloth from your dusty flannel shirt while scanning the room.
"Thank fuck" you breathed a sigh of relief snatching a little gold lighter off an office desk. Stealing a glimpse out the blown out window, you watched the Deathclaw forcing its way through the surprisingly sturdy walls below you.
"Die, bitch" you mumbled as you dropped your hastily made Molotov's. It let out a furious roar, prying itself back from the wall. Its jaws snapped at you perched at the window above it. You watched it writhe in the flames but to your surprise it wasn't you that killed it, but a powerful gunshot from behind it. You snapped your gaze up to the owner of the gun. A cowboy, clad in dusty worn leather. You tilted your head to the side curiously, squinting for a better look through the rising smoke. He marched over his latest kill through the dying flames and you saw his scarred skin, thick like leather. A Ghoul.
You let your body relax, not at all caring who your saviour was, just that you were alive to tell the tale. Slouching down in a nearby office chair, you rubbed your tired eyes in your palms and released a heavy sigh.
"The fuck do you think you're doin!?"
You didn't bother lifting your head.
What now?
The Ghoul stormed through the office, pure rage written across his marred face. Before you could react, he grabbed you harshly by your tattered shirt and thrust you against the wall.
Confusion was clear in your expression so he explained, frustration and anger laced his voice.
"Been tracking that bounty for days!" His grip on your shirt tightened as you struggled to free yourself "You and your pet just cost me the trail!
"The fuck was I supposed to know!?" You snapped, "I'm just tryna survive."
"Oh Yeah? See if you survive this, Sweetheart!" he brought the muzzle of his pistol to your jaw and you saw red. The psychotic raider in you erupted. Letting out a vicious snarl, you leapt on him like a rabid dog, teeth bared as you defended yourself like a cornered animal.
He didn't shoot. Releasing you from his grip, he brought his now free arm up to protect himself. You clamped your teeth down into the filthy leather of his coat. Initially you were aiming for his neck, not at all deterred by the textured flesh, it's still just skin at the end of the day.
The force of your attack sent him stumbling backwards, seizing the opportunity you hooked your foot around his ankle, forcing him to drop the pistol and catch himself as he collided with the concrete floor. You wasted no time in snatching up the gun and scuttling away leaving him coughing and spluttering. You didn't look back, thinking only of running once again.
You ran clumsily through buildings and across rooftops in an effort to deter The Ghoul from tracking you down. You stole from a bounty hunter after all, you knew he'd be after revenge and his pistol back. Finally you were able to scavenge some resources and re patch your wounds left by your raider buddies. You slowed your pace as you heard sounds of civilization ahead and reflected on the hell of a day you had.
You beat yourself up over that Deathclaw. It could have been so easily avoided had you not been in such a hurry. And that damned Ghoul. Would he really have killed you? Over a bounty!? Surely he could pick up the trail again, it was his job after all.
Through all your wonderings about the Ghoul, a pang of guilt struck you, knowing you had killed for less. Maybe he should have pulled the trigger. Many would say you deserved it for your previous wrongdoings, and you would have to agree.
Shaking your head, you did your best to push the self loathing away. The hardest struggle you faced being clean was the constant guilt, knowing all the shit you've put into the world, when you could have helped rebuild civilization, to create something instead of destroying it.
You focused on the sounds coming from behind a heavily barricaded gate in the middle of the dilapidated concrete jungle. It sounded like a city. You could cry at the thought of being part of a normal community, a small smile crept its way across your quivering lips as you approached the gate earning small nods of greeting from the guards.
With no caps, a stolen pistol and a face that looked like it was dragged through hell, you had no idea where to go from here. Feeling out of your depth in a bustling community of people just trying to survive, you were quickly becoming overwhelmed. Wandering aimlessly you tried to blend in while taking in your surroundings.
Until something caught your eye. A scuffle in the centre of town and a small crowd beginning to gather.
"Fuck off I had him first!" a gravelly voice threatened.
"Like hell you did!" Another replied, equally as angry.
Two men both widely built and decked out in leather armour were about to fight it out over a feeble little man cowering on the ground, his wrists were bound with rope and he’d clearly been beaten more than a few times.
"There's a hell of a bounty up for this piece of shit, I ain't giving up without a fight!"
You froze, wide eyed at the pathetic looking man on the ground.
The bounty
You grinned to yourself, sneaking through the crowd. With enough chaos you could slip the target away and return him to the Ghoul. Strike a deal with him, gain protection while you establish yourself in society, or at least till you get your own weapons and armour.
You slipped an empty bottle from a nearby barrel and launched it at one of the men through the crowd. That did it. Within moments a brawl broke out between the bounty hunters and the crowd. Slipping through the frantic bodies you pulled the target out of the chaos and didn't stop until you were both hidden in a darkened ally.
It didn't take long for the crowd to dissipate as the bounty hunters frantically searched for their prize.
"If you want to keep your balls, come with me!" you hissed as you dragged him by the collar to the patchwork metal walls surrounding the settlement. The boundaries were tall, with barbed wire wrapped around its peak. In a panic you both kicked and tore your way through the most rusted panel available, before scuttling through the tight space.
Hauling your captive from the dust you retraced your steps, running as fast as your weakened muscles could with the weight of the bounty target behind you. It didn't take long for The Ghoul to find you as you stood in the middle of the dusty road, gun to the trembling little man's temple. The Ghoul narrowed his eyes at you, he was pissed.
"Well, look what we have here," he said, surprisingly calm, despite the threatening look in his eye.
"Gonna offer you a deal, Ghoul!" You announced, a slight shake in your voice. You weren't used to bargaining, you hoped you were doing it right.
He tilted his head to the side, a questioning look on his face. When he didn't respond you continued.
"You get the target and your gun back on one condition"
"...which is?" He asked through gritted teeth, he was growing impatient.
"Take me with you for while"
The threat in his eyes was replaced with amusement as he started to laugh. You scowled, nudging the barrel of the pistol harder into the hostage's temple earning a whimper from him.
“Just until I get on my feet” you were stern but there was no denying you were practically begging for help.
"And what if I refuse, little lady? Better yet, what's stopping me from accepting this deal and just killing you, hm?"
You smirked "honour"
He laughed once more, louder this time, almost sarcastically.
"I'm returning what I took from you and I know you have some decency left in you." he stopped laughing and his harsh glare returned.
"Oh, you don't know shit about me, sweetheart"
"I know you could have shot me earlier, but you didn't" His eyes narrowed. Time was getting on and it was only a matter of time before the other bounty hunters would search outside the settlement.
"Look, other bounty hunters are on their way for this bastard right now. So you can either accept and I tag along, or decline so I can blow this fuckers brains out" You hissed the last bit in the captives ear, an almost evil gleam in your eye letting them both know you would do it and you wouldn't lose any sleep over it.
The Ghoul glanced behind you, searching for the other bounty hunters, frustration clear on his face.
"Not givin me much of a choice, Sweetheart. Fine, you got a deal"
You grinned, proudly. Relief washed over you as you tossed the target and the pistol to the floor at the Ghouls feet.
"Pleasure doin business, Cowboy!"
The Ghoul gagged his prize and tied him with his lasso for good measure before laying down ground rules.
"Now if you try to escape or run or do anythin that makes me think you're plotting, I'm gonna let my pretty little companion here take your eyes, understand" His tone was calm and he spoke with a malicious grin, making his threats that much scarier. The little man sniffled but nodded.
You had journeyed in silence for a while and it was starting to get dark. You were growing chilly as the sun began to fall and your torn shirt did little to protect you from the elements. Of course The Ghoul noticed, he knew you were tired, you were dehydrated, hungry and weak but he didn't stop. He wondered how long it would take for you to give in or just collapse, but you never did. Unknown to him you needed to keep moving. You had to keep your mind focused on something other than getting high. The pain helped, kept you distracted, made you feel something. After so many years on the chems, you forgot what it was like to be anything other than numb, fueled with rage and craving violence. The pain was hell but at least it was real.
Hours passed and finally the Ghoul decided to set up camp. The hostage wasn't in great shape either and The Ghoul needed him alive. You sat by his fire still in silence, getting lost in the flames as your eyes started to feel heavy. Your thoughts snapped to the last family you killed on a raid. Innocent blood spilled because of you and your psycho addiction. The shock shook you awake and you noticed him watching you curiously on the other side of the fire. You rubbed your eyes hard.
"I'll keep watch" You announced, the little man had already passed out and The Ghoul smirked.
"Don't trust me to stick around, Darlin?" You looked at him, it was better than telling him you were plagued by nightmares every time you sleep.
"Would you?" You asked, his smirk turned into a sideways grin.
"Clever girl" He lay back, covering his face with his hat. You were alone with only your thoughts and the crackle of the fire. Doing anything you could to stay awake and distract yourself you paced for a while, before drawing crude pictures in the dust with your knife until eventually your eyes could no longer stay open and you slipped into your nightmares once again.
You woke with a start, tears cut through the grime that painted your cheeks. Your heart raced as you looked around wild eyed, slowly coming back to reality. The sun barely broke over the horizon but The Ghoul was already awake. You caught his glance but you were unable to read him. You stood up suddenly, too embarrassed to look at him, for him to see you like this.
Fuck!
Your muscles were tense, every movement felt like you were tearing yourself apart. But the pain, the reminder that you're alive; that you’re free, was worth it. You hissed as you stretched, feeling his gaze still on you. You tried to ignore him, to compose yourself quickly before kicking the bounty target awake. He was flustered as you dragged him to his feet.
“We need food and water” You said, taking in the state of the hostage who was somehow starting to look worse than you. You heard the ghoul kicking the burned embers of the fire behind you, scattering evidence of the camp.
“So scavenge” He said, as if whatever you do is none of his business.
Raising an eyebrow you ask “think I trust you not to leave?” you cross your arms “Gonna need a guarantee, Cowboy”
He sighed, knowing the hostage would die before making it to the client at this rate. But he already lost too much time.
“Lotta work, you are, woman” He tossed the pistol to you “One mag, that’s all ya gettin. You waste it, it’s your problem.”
You breathed a sigh of relief, holstering the gun in your belt. “I’ll not stray far” you assured him. He didn’t really care but you figured you’d let him know his weapon wouldn’t be too far from his side.
The wasteland was just that, desolate, save for the odd farm house. Not even a pitiful rolemat made itself known. After hours of walking with the distant silhouette of the Ghoul still within sight, you had only picked up scraps. The stimpak was useful and you chewed greedily on some iguana bits which tasted foul but at least it was better than starving. What made you return was the increasing amounts of chems you had picked up. You figured the ghoul would have use for them and the further away from you they were the better.
You forced the deviled eggs down the bounty target's throat, letting him know he’d be dehydrated a while before gagging him once again. You were surprised to see the glee on The Ghouls face when you presented him with the jet and mysterious yellow vials you’d found in the wreckage of one of the farmhouses.
“Well, would ya look at that! Not so useless after all” he didn’t waste any time in gulping the liquid like it was holy water.
“Never seen a chem like that before” you exclaimed
“Lucky ya found it, little lady. Been looking mighty delicious for a while now” He grinned maliciously. The shock was clear on your face, accompanied by a surprising blush. You shook off the strange fluttering feeling his comment gave you.
“Don’t know how long we can go without water” You changed the subject
“Next town’ll have somethin” his mood had improved greatly since taking the medicine. The tension between you lifted slightly, making travelling together much more tolerable for the pair of you. You tried returning his gun but to your surprise he allowed you to keep it.
“Give it back when the job’s done. Might need it till then, an I ain’t protectin ya like some damsel”
Finally after hours of idle banter the next town held promise. You found a new shirt and a jacket with lots of pockets, perfect for scavenging. You filled your jacket with as much as you could carry: food, ammo, more chems and finally…
Water!
You wept at the sight. Purified water, finally! You gulped down your share before catching up with the Ghoul, a spring in your step. Your prisoner's eyes lit up as you approached, a canteen full of clear refreshing water. The Ghoul yanked him back as he lunged for you.
“Now that wasn’t very nice, was it?” you feigned offence before tossing the canteen at him.
The Ghoul raised a brow at you “That it?” you tilted your head at him in question “Thought you were the type to have fun before dishing out rewards” he explained
“Sounds like you want me to tease the poor fucker…Unless you’re the type who likes to watch” You slowly drawled, inching closer to The Ghoul.
“Oh, Darlin, I’m more of a doer than a watcher” he stepped towards you, confidently, almost asserting dominance over you. He was close. Closer than you would normally allow but something about him drew you in. He wasn’t like the raider men. He was harsh, cruel and selfish but there was still some shred of human decency in him just like you said and he was unexpectedly charming. You were curious about him, and you found yourself studying his face properly for the first time. His teasing smile fell as you caught his eyes, the way the sunlight hit them made them look like jewels, they were beautiful in that brief moment until he hardened his gaze.
“You askin to be made a meal of, Woman?” He broke you out of your trance, his tone impatient, defensive even, as if he knew you were searching him.
“N-no!” You finally shoved him away.
You forced the trio to move as long as possible until eventually your hostage collapsed. The Ghoul glared at you.
“If he dies, I’ll sell you to raiders! I’m sure they’d love to have their way with a sweet thing like you”
You scoffed “Try it, they wouldn’t know the right way if it shot them between the eyes” He stopped suddenly, tilting his head in question. You smiled innocently in response, knowing you’d said too much about your predicament and hoping to throw him off. He was clearly curious but he didn’t delve any further. The pair of you set up camp under cover of a department store, barricading the door and window with shelves and pulling old moth-eaten pillows and sleeping bags to the middle of the room. Thunder could be heard from a distance and the air began to feel thick, The Ghoul approached a small crack in the window.
“Betcha glad we stopped when we did, darlin” He shot you a “told you so” look and you narrowed your eyes at him as you lit the small candles around the room.
“Radstorm?” you asked, he nodded
Time passed in silence as you both got comfy in the sleeping bag pile. You normally enjoyed the blissful silence but this time it was almost awkward.
“So what’d he do to get a bounty on him?” You asked suddenly. The Ghoul turned his gaze from the chems he was organising to you.
“Mean to tell me you’ve been followin me round like a puppy for a bounty an’ ya don’t even know what he did?”
You thought for a moment “yup”
He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief “You’re a strange little thing ain't ya?”
“I never said I wanted the bounty by the way. But since we’re on the topic, what do you say to splitting it?” He laughed at your confidence and the radstorm outside rattled the boards on the windows.
“Ya lost me the target to start with, cost me time, stole my gun, used my ammo, made the target collapse from exhaustion and you got the balls to ask for a cut? Lucky you’re still breathin, Sweetheart!” he was amused as he called you out on your mishaps and you returned his tone with a small smile.
“I also kept both you and your target alive, remember!”
He scoffed “Fact of the matter is, I don’t owe you shit, Princess. You travel with me under my terms. Don’t like it, then leave” he spat almost daring you to leave. You crossed your arms in a dramatic huff.
“Don’t get bratty now, you chose this” he began devouring the yellow liquid from one of his vials before taking a hit of jet. You watched hungrily, his eyes fluttered closed as he breathed out a satisfied sigh. You couldn’t deny you craved the high he was on. He caught the look in your eye and the slight shine on your lips from where you had unknowingly licked them.
“Dangerous to look at a man like that, sweetheart” he teased. You blinked hard, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you avoided his gaze.
“It’s not…I mean…I wasn’t…nevermind” you trailed off, finding the seams of the sleeping bag you were on suddenly very interesting.
The little red inhaler landed suddenly beside you. You looked at him wide eyed, shocked at his generosity.
“All you gotta do is ask, princess” you picked it up with slightly shaky fingers.
“Oh…Um, thanks…but I, uh don’t…anymore” you were almost embarrassed to say you were clean, it must seem like such a trivial thing to a ghoul.
“Oh…” He realised but said nothing more as you handed it back. He shoved it as well as the assortment of other chems back in his pack to help you avoid temptation. You were surprised at the respect he showed and you smiled at him in thanks. Thoughts about teasing him crossed your mind but you refrained, revelling in the moment of genuineness.
He scanned the room before his eyes landed on scattered bottles in the corner, he let out a long whistle.
He gestured towards the bottles asking if you drank, you thought for a moment before nodding. It had been a while since you drank but you figured you deserved some reward after the shit show that had unfolded recently.
You both shared a bottle of old whisky. It burned your throat and you coughed at its foul taste, but you gradually warmed up to it as the radstorm grew louder. You chatted for a while as you carved a little chunk of wood with your hunting knife. He lectured you on whisky as most old men do but it led you to wonder.
“How old are you?” the effect of the alcohol started to set in as you began to feel fuzzy and more carefree.
He glared at you for interrupting him “How’d you end up with raiders?” he snapped back as if to say I don't ask you questions so don't ask me. You sat up, frowning at him realising you weren’t as sneaky as you thought.
“They were my clan,” you admitted after a moment before falling back onto the soft sleeping bags.
After a short silence he mumbled “Over two hundred, don’t know exactly”
“Woah!” You snapped your head to look at him, “so…you were there when the bombs dropped?” you asked eagerly.
“So this clan of yours, everyone inbred? or just you?” he returned your gaze with narrowed eyes letting you know he wasn’t comfortable with the personal questions.
“Cheeky fucker!” you launched the bottle of whisky, it landed on the concrete behind him with a smash.
“Now, now, princess. Don’t make me punish you for being a brat” The way he spoke in that low gravelly tone mixed with your now tipsy state made your heart beat quicken with excitement. He noticed the way you flustered and he chuckled “How’d a raider end up as innocent as you? Squirming like a virgin” he teased. Your blush deepened. Although you weren’t technically a virgin, your only experience had left you woefully disappointed and you never bothered with sex again afterwards.
“Ain’t drunk enough to discuss this” you admitted stumbling over the passed out captive to the other bottles rolling around behind the tills.
“Come on, princess, indulge an old ghoul”
You bit your lip and grabbed the biggest bottle of vodka on the bench.
“Fine, what do you wanna know?” You asked, removing your jacket and making yourself comfy beside him.
“These raiders of yours…they make you feel good?”
You took a big swig from the bottle before passing it to him. Shaking your head you asked naively “Should he have?” He looked at you, his eyes widened slightly.
“Oh, oh darlin, you poor thing”
“Don’t patronise me, asshole!” You glared in embarrassment but also curious to learn more you continued “Just…answer the question”
He loved watching you get hot and bothered, loved teasing you and your lack of experience.
“Course he’s supposed to make you feel good!” He answered as if it were obvious.
You took another swig getting lost in your thoughts, wondering if you even knew what sex was anymore. What else had you missed out on?
“How long did it last?” he continued
“Not long, like a few minutes maybe. Prolly a good thing considering how bad it was” You found yourself laughing along with him. It was nice having someone to confide in, even if he was teasing you.
“Well, you’ll get no judgement from me, Princess. All you gotta do is ask” he said with a charming smile.
“Thanks, Cowboy…so, that lasso see much use?” you gestured to the rope tied round the snoring bounty target.
He raised a brow “might be a bit too advanced for you, dontcha think?”
“Not for that, dumbass! I meant in fights, bounty hunting, that sort of thing” He laughed.
“It has its uses” he caught your curious gaze, pulling your face by the chin with his fingers, firmly but not too aggressive. “And yes it can be used on misbehaving brats” you gulped as the fluttering feeling returned. The urge to lean in, the urge to feel his lips against yours grew. Maybe it was the alcohol clouding your judgement or maybe his words just made you that excited.
He grinned, knowing he could have you so easily if he wanted, but he was a patient man and he loved the game “Get some sleep, Princess, you’re exhausted” he removed his hand and leaned back against the sleeping bags as you crawled back to your spot opposite him. You didn’t want to sleep, worried about the horrors you’ll see but at the same time, he was right and you didn’t want to be a burden. Accepting the fact The Ghoul would have to face your whimpering and cries in the night you fell into another restless sleep.
You were back home, at your settlement with your clan. Fellow raiders were laughing by the fire, sparring, getting high or fucking. But a deep rich red began leaking through the walls, flooding the settlement fast. You ran for the doors while everyone around you paid no mind to the flood or you. You moved so slow, frustration caused tears to roll down your cheeks and the gates were forever out of your reach no matter how hard you tried to run. The liquid rose up higher until eventually you could taste it, it spilled into your throat, the familiar metallic taste.
Blood
You thrashed around wildly, panic took over and suddenly brightness blinded you.
You blinked through the sudden white light of dawn. The Ghoul was on top of you, pinning your wrists beside your head, his chest heaved like he’d just been fighting, blood splattered across his chest. You relaxed under him, not realising how tense your body was and you heard a clink of metal hit the ground as your grip on the knife eased.
You were both speechless, so many questions whirled through your mind and finally the metallic taste hit you.
Fuck that familiar taste of blood, of victory. You were ashamed at how much you loved it, how much you still craved violence. You thought it was the chems at first but this feeling, this primal urge to slaughter…maybe it was just you. A raider, a criminal.
He tilted his head at your slight smile. He was utterly confused by you, enthralled almost as you lay beneath him, dishevelled, breathing heavily, coated in sweat, his blood staining your plump lips.
“Fuck” he hissed as he leaned in, unable to resist the urge to taste himself he slowly dragged his tongue across your bottom lip. Your mind spun, still dazed from your night terror, not yet completely aware of what happened.
He pulled away, releasing his grip on your wrists “lotta fuckin work you are, princess”
You felt the weight of him lift as he made his way to the quivering target who had been watching in horror at the animalistic transformation you went through in your sleep. Lifting your body from the ground you winced at the stiffness in your limbs. You licked the spit he left behind from your lips and rubbed your eyes trying to gather your thoughts.
“What happened?” You asked as he began dragging the makeshift barricades from the door.
“You tell me, darlin. Been restless all night, cryin and thrashin round like a caged animal” He pulled the shelves down, a cloud of dust enveloped you as you stood to help him.
“But this” he gestured to the bleeding gash across his chest “this was a result of waking a damn beast” He grinned as you blushed from embarrassment. “Shoulda known better than to wake you” He jested as if it were nothing.
“I ain’t a beast…least I’m tryin not to be.” You followed him into the light of the morning sun, shielding your eyes.
“Making backwards progress there, sweetheart. Wasteland turns people to killers, not the other way round”
“Just tired of destroyin things, y’know. Tired of bein a raider…” you trailed off not really sure how to explain your feelings. Spending so many years swallowed by anger, you weren’t sure how to express yourself any other way.
“Not what it looked like to me” he scoffed “the way you licked my blood, smilin all the while mind you. Looked damn near feral to me.”
You were glad his eyes were focused elsewhere as you lowered your head, knowing you should feel ashamed but something in his tone made you almost proud, like he was complimenting you. You bit your lip as the jumbled images in your mind started to slot into place. The way you pounced on him, knife in hand when he woke you, the adrenaline rushing through you as you straddled him, slashing as if your life depended on it. The taste of his warm blood on the knife. The worst part is, had he not flipped you both over and pinned you to the ground, you would have licked the wound.
“Sorry, I cut you, cowboy”
He laughed “The fuck you apologisin for? Lemme tell ya, not much surprises me anymore, but you…” he turned to look at you “you keep me on my toes, beastie”
You frowned at his new nickname “Y’know beastie’s not your best one”
He shrugged “Suits you more than Princess”
You rolled your eyes, but wondered if you would ever tell him your name, whether it would even be worth it. You didn’t plan on travelling with The Ghoul for long so names were never a priority, and he felt the same. The sense of anonymity felt like protection, like if all else failed at least you were never tied to one another.
You continued your routine of scavenging, while The Ghoul marched ahead, only this time he gave you his pack.
“Fill it with all the chems and valuables you find” He ordered, you weren’t really sure what was considered valuable but you did your best, jumping from building to building picking up all sorts of bits and bobs. You felt energised, despite the nightmares, a few hours sleep and opening up a bit more to The Ghoul had helped lift a heavy weight off your shoulders.
He waited for you with the target by the tall wire gate of your final destination. He let out a long whistle upon seeing his full pack.
“Hooo, now that’s what I like to see!”
“Me or the pack?” you teased
“Both, sweetheart” you smiled, enjoying the new dynamic between you. He was no longer as harsh with you and you had relaxed a little more around him.
“So what happens now?” You ask.
“Now we take the payment”
You followed behind him as he strolled through the gates, tugging on the lasso that kept the bounty target close. The familiar sound of his spurs faded into the sound of the settlement. It seemed smaller than the previous one yet somehow busier, The Ghoul watched as your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.
“Wow!” you whispered in awe. Farmers had stalls set up in the middle of the dusty road, selling various produce, brahmin and travelling merchants wandered the street to trade, lights hung from building to building and purified water poured from pumps in the ground. He noticed you drifting away from him, getting caught up in the chaos so he clamped his hand on your shoulder and brought you back to his side.
“Careful, Beastie. Don’t want you getting overwhelmed” he whispered. The nature of your condition was unpredictable, recalling the same feeling you had the day you met The Ghoul, biting him in a defensive frenzy. The Ghoul took to calling it feral, neither of you really understood it yet, but the last thing either of you wanted was to be exiled. Particularly as this was one of few settlements that accepted ghouls.
“Maybe we need a safe word” You suggested, sticking close to his side but still looking around wildly, taking as much of the hustle and bustle in as you could.
“You fucked once and think you’re an expert, huh?” he teased
“Not everything is about sex, Ghoul!” you sighed.
You strolled through the town, finally reaching an old police station in a quieter part of town. He took the lead and you watched as he spoke with a man in the biggest suit of armour you’d ever seen. You hadn’t noticed your jaw drop till The Ghoul pressed his index finger to your chin and pushed it back up. You had never seen power armour up close, knowing better than to face an enemy with such strong defences. It was so much bigger than you expected, and intimidating too.
The man in the armour completely ignored you as he opened a safe on the wall behind him and presented The Ghoul with a bag of caps. In return The ghoul released the target from his Lasso and shoved him towards the man in the armour.
The Ghoul tipped his hat to him and gestured for you to follow.
“Think you deserve a reward, Darlin. Whaddya say?” Your eyes lit up.
“Can I get a gun? Oh! And some armour? And can we get some food, I’m starving!” you rambled in your excitement, wanting to see and experience everything and to your surprise, he let you.
“Hold your horses there, sweetheart, one step at a time.”
You followed him through town noticing the locals giving the pair of you a little more space than everyone else, some cast scowls and muttered cruel words under their breath as you passed by. The Ghoul didn’t seem phased by the obvious resentment people had for him. Feeling suddenly defensive you glared back at those who cast you intimidating looks.
“Easy there, Beastie” The Ghoul caught onto your silent threats and guided you towards a very questionable looking bar. The lights flickered above the door which was shoddily patched together after what you can only assume was many years of bar fights. The windows were smashed in and the walls were riddles with bullet holes.
“Just like home” you mumbled as you followed him to the bar, he laughed at your pessimism.
“Don’t be picky now, Princess” he warned as he gestured with his hand to the Mr Handy behind the bar for two drinks.
“You a regular or somethin?” you asked, scanning the building, pleasantly surprised to see the roof still on tact. There were few patrons, but none paid The Ghoul any mind. You on the other hand were new. Those who weren't passed out, watched you closely with your Cowboy companion. You shot them warning glares, as they eyed you up and down.
“Somethin like that” he followed your gaze “As much as I’d love to watch you go feral on them, I'd like a drink first” The cowboy passed you an unlabeled bottle, you assumed it was whisky, the burn in your throat was familiar.
“I knew you liked to watch, you freak” you joked as you slouched against the bar. His confidence in your ability to fight eased your mind and you found yourself starting to relax.
“Careful, Beastie” he grinned “they're no match for you but I'm a whole different monster” his tone darkened as he tested you.
“Oh really?“ you took the bait with a smirk “You sayin I can't handle you, Cowboy?“
He scoffed, “Darlin, I would break you, and you know it” he turned to see you biting your lip gently, squirming in the bar stool, avoiding his gaze. He chuckled, before tossing a handful of caps at the Mr Handy barkeep and paying for a couple of rooms for the night. You took another mouthful of the liquid fire and grimaced before taking your room key “Gonna get cleaned up” You slid your bottle closer to your companion, hinting for him to keep if safe for you before hopping off the barstool.
“Mind the peeping toms” he called as you made your way upstairs, you laughed in response hoping he was joking.
Your room was small and underwhelming. Only a bed, bath and small chest of drawers which were barely standing occupied the space, but at least it was clean and had running water. It was more than you had as a raider, there was even a little bar of soap. You rummaged through the drawers as you let the bath fill with water, hoping to find some towels or spare clothes but you found only bedsheets.
“It’ll do” you mumbled, shaking the dust from the sheet. You began undressing, tossing the discarded clothes into a bucket to clean as you soaked. The water was cold but you didn’t mind, the contrast against the sweltering wasteland heat was pleasant. You let out a long sigh as you submerged yourself in the tub, feeling content for the first time in a long while. Strange, in such a short time you and the ghoul had warmed to each other more than you had expected. You were reminded of his teasing at the store as you drank together.
All you gotta do is ask
You were embarrassed at how easily you opened up to him, and how curious you were. You had made it clear how clueless you were about sex, you scarcely even pleasured yourself, making you wonder how much you had missed out on. The foreign tingling feeling in your belly returned as you remembered waking from your nightmare, straddling him and the way his blood tasted on your knife. You shuddered as your hands drifted over your body under the water. Not really sure where to touch, you closed your eyes, imagining what The Ghoul might do. His textured flesh would feel every inch of you with confidence, every touch would have a purpose, a reason, he would start with your breasts, groping and pulling your nipples until you whined then he would work his way down…
A slight scratching noise made you pause, snapping your eyes open. You listened hard hearing the faint sounds of the town outside before it happened again.
Mind the peeping toms
You glared daggers at the wall where the scratching came from. The wallpaper was peeling and small cracks and bullet holes painted the length of it. Grabbing the bed sheet you wrapped it around your naked form and took your knife from the bed, listening as the scratching stopped. It was probably nothing, it could have been a cat or something in the walls but you didn't want to take the chance. Turning your back to the wall, you slowly began removing the sheet as seductively as possible until the scratching came back, vigorously.
“Fucking creep!” You shrieked, covering yourself with the sheet once again before plunging your knife into the wall. It was flimsier than you expected, just a thin layer of rotting wood which your knife sliced through with ease. You heard a surprised yelp and the creep scruffle away but you weren’t satisfied. The feral rage built up inside you again as you tore your way through the wall, the sheet barely providing coverage as the water from your body seeped through. He was startled, caught with his buckle un done, his jeans barely pulled up as he tried to dash for the door but you were faster, plunging your knife into his shoulder as you dragged him to the floor, releasing all your rage in a frenzy of knife slashes and unhinged verbal abuse. Everything became a blur and you didn’t even notice The Ghoul until you were being dragged, kicking and screaming away from the body.
“I warned ya, beastie” He had one arm tightly wrapped around your waist and the other gripping your knife hand as he lifted you back to your room. He shook the knife from your hand before tossing you onto the bed, pinning you to the mattress. He waited as you thrashed under him for you to tire yourself out. He smirked as the bed sheet now drenched in blood twisted around you, just barely covering your nipples as your arms were pinned above your head. You were panting heavily, growing weak from fighting against the Ghoul and your vision started to become clearer.
“There you are, Princess” he cooed as you came back to your senses. You began to relax under him, licking the blood from your lips, he groaned as he watched you, never releasing his grip from your wrists.
“Did you know” You started, through heavy breaths “You taste different to other men” he chuckled as you continued to surprise him.
“That so? How’d he taste compared to me, Beastie?”
“Disgusting!” You didn’t hesitate, showing revolution in your expression. His confident grin made your belly tingle again and he released your wrists from his grip, gliding his gloved fingers down your arms. You shivered at his touch
“You weren’t by any chance teasing that peeping tom, were you? After all I did warn you.”
You blushed and turned your face away from his fiery gaze, remembering the filthy thoughts you had of the Ghoul as you touched yourself, knowing a stranger was getting off on it.
“Didn’t think you were serious” you pouted, he brought his gloved fingers to your chin and forced your eyes to meet his. He dragged his thumb across your lips and you responded by bringing your tongue out to meet his thumb, licking the tip of the leather, letting him know how needy you were. It tasted like him, like gunpowder and metal but you craved more, just a few more drops of his blood. Your breathing quickened once more and your eyes had a wild look in them as you resisted the urge to bite
“I told ya, sweetheart. All you gotta do is ask”
He wanted you to beg, to submit to him and you would if it meant tasting him again.
“Can I taste you again?” You asked in a hushed whisper, but he was already removing his gloves.
“On one condition” he brought his now glove free hands to your bare thighs gently pulling your legs apart to fit himself between them. You gasped at his warm touch, his skin just like you imagined, leathery and firm.
“I wanna taste you too, Darlin” You nodded your head in response to his request, desperate for more. You watched as he reached for your knife on the floor and brought it to the palm of his hand with a devious smirk plastered on his face.
“Open wide, my little Beastie”
You obeyed, sticking your tongue out as he sliced the blade down the palm of his hand. Drops of warm crimson liquid landed on your face and tongue. He hovered his hand over your lips for a moment before moving it down your throat to your breasts where your hardened nipples poked through the thin fabric. His blood seeped into the fabric and he watched your chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. He curled his fingers over the thin fabric before searching your eyes for consent. The way you looked at him, pleading with dilated pupils was more than enough for him. The cool air pricked your skin and you squirmed in embarrassment, unable to look at yourself. You couldn't bring yourself to see what he saw, all the scars and bruises, your ribs and collar bones visible from malnourishment and years of addiction. You watched his eyes darken as he groaned at the sight of you.
“Fuck, Darlin, look at you…perfect” you were surprised he praised you so much considering how damaged you felt. He admired your body from above for a moment longer before smearing his blood across your lips and down your throat, leaving his prints all down your chest. His movements were rougher than you expected and you arched your back into his hand as he kneaded your breasts just as you thought he would. You licked the blood from your lips and let out a small moan as he pinched your nipples. It felt so much better when he did it.
Feeling a little braver and wanting him to share in your pleasure you picked the knife up from beside you and glided the blade across your collarbones, inviting him for a taste.
“And to think you were the one calling me a freak. Look at you know, filthy little thing” his tone became almost a growl as he took the knife from you, gently pressing the blade against the soft flesh of your breasts before carefully slicing. You inhaled sharply and flinched away from him but he was quick, only leaving a small cut and the cold sharpness of the blade was quickly replaced by the warm wetness of his tongue. You gasped and panted beneath him, throwing your head back against the mattress as he teased your nipples with his fingers and tongue. Grasping his shoulders you pulled him closer, signalling your want for more. He chuckled against your skin
“So needy”
You moaned in frustration.
“Look at me, Princess” You hesitated but did as he asked, your mouth opened and eyes grew wide at the beautiful sight before you. He was panting, hat tilted slightly casting a perfect shadow across his face. His eyes were overflowing with lust and your blood painted his lips and chin beautifully. He smirked
“Tell me what you want”
“...Y-you” you barely recognised your own voice as it whispered desperately for him.
“C’mon Princess tell me” he drawled as he brought his face up to your neck, nibbling and licking, awaiting your response.
“P-Please, fuck me” you moaned.
“Good girl” he growled before biting your neck, his hat tumbled from his head and onto the floor as his actions became rougher, more impatient. You cried out in pleasure as your body shivered, your grip on his shoulders tightened and you arched your back, desperate to feel more of him.
He attacked your neck with his teeth as his hands grazed your thighs, you spread your legs wider to give him access and he smirked against your blood smeared skin.
Growing tired of his teasing you thrust your hips up to meet his, feeling his hardened cock restricted in his pants. He groaned, thrusting himself against your wet folds again before dragging his fingers down your thigh. He pulled away from your neck to watch your face twist in pleasure as his fingers slid the length of your folds before inserting a finger. You released a long moan as you felt him slowly slide his rough finger in and out.
“fuck, you're so wet, Sweetheart. I turn you on that much?”
All shame abandoned you as you thrust your hips into his hand, all you thought of was him, wanting to feel him, to let him use you.
“y-yes, please…more” you whined, moving your grip from his shoulders to the fabric of his shirt.
“Aww well since you asked so sweetly, Princess” he slid a second finger inside you, stretching you as his movements grew quicker and more forceful.
“fuck!” Your moans bounced off the walls and the tingling feeling in your belly grew. Your body tensed and the grip on his shirt tightened as pleasure soured through your body. You had just barely gotten used to being stretched by his second finger when he suddenly added a third. Your eyes widened and you let out a pleasured gasp at the sudden intrusion. He was growing impatient and his fingers were not as gentle as they once were. Your soaked pussy clenched around his fingers as the pleasure built into something almost overwhelming but to your dismay he pulled out.
“n-no, please… S’too good” you whined desperately, grabbing his arm to guide his hand back to your aching cunt. His touch was intoxicating, everything he did was better than you imagined, you had never felt anything like it and you needed more.
“Oh, Darlin” he loved the effect he had on you, making you drunk on pleasure, knowing he was the only one who made you feel so good. “You cum only when I allow it” his eyes narrowed and his tone was dark, he was so much more intimidating than before but it excited you. He smeared the blood from his palm up your neck and you leaned your head back to allow him access, squeezing gently at the sides of your throat a slight smile graced your lips as you heard his free hand unbuckled his belt. Your arms fell from his shirt as you brought one hand to play with your tits and the other to mimic his movements on your pussy.
“Like it rough, little slut?” he growled as he watched you play with yourself, his grip around your neck tightened as he freed his cock from his pants, stroking the length of it. You couldn't find the words to respond, your thoughts only focused on the heightened pleasure shooting through you.
You wanted so badly to cum, to finally feel release but he wouldn't let you. He roughly grabbed the hand that was stroking your pussy and pinned it above your head.
“Not yet, Princess” he cooed as he brought the hand around your throat to the back of your head. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, guiding your head up to meet his fingers, sticky with your wetness. He traced his thumb across your lips and you brought your tongue out to meet it, moaning at the taste of yourself on his leathery flesh. You hoped his focus was entirely on your face as you crept your fingers back to the wetness of your folds, but he knew. He glared harshly at you for disobeying him. Snatching his thumb from your mouth he pulled you onto your knees hard by the hair.
“I warned you, Darlin, you cum when I allow it” You hissed at the sudden pain in your scalp.
“hands behind your back” you obeyed. “good girl, tongue out” he gave you short orders and after obeying each one he made sure to praise you.
He guided your head down to his cock, saliva dripped from your open mouth, sliding from your tongue onto his cock. He was bigger than the raider but not frighteningly big, and despite the mottled texture of his skin you could still see thick veins. You took the hint and slowly ran your tongue around the tip. He kept you steady by your hair but allowed you to go at your own pace, not wanting to push you too far. After tracing small circles with your tongue you took him gradually into your mouth, gently bobbing your head feeling the base of him with your tongue. He tasted familiar, like his blood there was a distinct metallic taste to his textured flesh and you loved it. You could feel your pussy dripping from anticipation, your fingers intertwined behind your back just like he asked. “atta girl” he groaned as he began to rock his hips back and forth. Feeling a little too confident you tried to take him into your throat but you struggled, frightening yourself as you gagged, he pulled himself from your mouth with a chuckle.
“Too eager, Sweetheart” you looked up at him, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as you pouted.
“You can make it up to me by spreading those perfect legs” you didn't need telling twice. Lying on your back you raised your arms above your head showing him your obedience, waiting for your reward. He slapped his cock against your clit a few times before rubbing it up your soaked cunt, earning an excited moan from you as you thrust your hips up, grinding against him.
“Please…” you begged. It was shameful how much you craved him but you didn't care, your thoughts were focused only on him filling you up, on finally chasing your release.
“such a filthy little slut” he growled as he slid himself inside with almost no resistance. You threw your head back against the mattress once more. An animalistic moan escaped you as he finally filled you up with his fat cock. You were tight but not too tight, gripping him perfectly as he slowly pulled back then slid himself deep inside again, savouring every inch of your pussy squeezing him.
“Fuck! ” he hissed as he picked up the pace. Pleasure rippled through your body, and your jaw hung loose letting out shameless animalistic sounds. You allowed his fingers to invade your mouth, twirling your tongue around them messily, saliva dripping down your chin as you moaned in ecstasy. He kept your gaze locked with his as he pounded into your pussy mercilessly. The grooves of his cock rubbed against your walls and you spread your legs wider inviting him deeper.
“Think you can handle more, Princess?“ he groaned,almost begging to be rougher with you. He slid his fingers from your lips allowing you to moan a breathy “yes” in response. Almost immediately he sat upright on his knees grabbing you tightly by the hips and pulling your body up to meet him with a hard slap. The new angle filled you perfectly as you arched your back to accommodate his length inside you. Your eyes rolled back as waves of pleasure crashed through your body, you grabbed fistfulls of the bedsheet beneath you as your orgasm crept closer with every hard thrust.
“P-please, let me cum” you begged
“Go on, Princess, cum for me” that was all you needed to send you over the edge, you screamed as you drenched him, squirting over the fabric of his shirt. Your body trembled as you pussy tightened around him, squeezing his cock as he continued to thrust into you.
“atta girl“ he praised riding you out of your high before pulling out, you whimpered feeling empty without him but it didn't last long. He dragged you by the ankles to the edge of the bed and flipped you on your front bringing your hips up so you were standing over the rusty bed frame. You were still reeling from your first orgasm, your legs wobbled and you weren't prepared for him sliding forcefully back inside your swollen cunt from behind. You let out a surprised gasp at the new position. He somehow felt bigger, reaching a new depth of your soft cunt which sent sparks of pleasure through you. You arched your back to accommodate his length, throwing your head back, your jaw hung open releasing lewd sounds you didn't even know you could make. His grip around your hips was tight, fingernails dug into your flesh, the pain was perfect, matching the burning pleasure in your gut.
Your legs barely held you up as he fucked you over the bed, overstimulated and almost unable to keep up you moaned incoherently, trying to tell him how good it felt. Your fists clenched the bloodied bed sheets beneath you as you thrust your hips back to meet his. Suddenly he brought his bloodied hand up from your hips and cracked it across your ass cheek with a hard slap. You let out a surprised moan at the sudden pain but found yourself asking for more.
“fuck, you really do like it rough, don't ya?“
“A-ah! Y-yes!“ you whined, bringing your fingers up to stroke your clit. You felt filthy, touching yourself as a Ghoul fucked you but the thought of your controversial behaviour only heightened the pleasure.
“Such a good little slut, you like it when I use you?”
“yessir!” you whined as he thrust hard into you, making sure to fill you up with all of his cock. His hand smacked your ass again, the stinging feeling of the spanking mixed with his dick pounding relentlessly made your body tense up as you felt yourself approaching the edge once more. Unable to keep yourself upright anymore you shoved your face into the bloodied sheets, taking in the metallic taste as your jaw clenched around the fabric. You let out muffled moans as your legs shook violently. He grabbed you by the waist with both hands once again, pulling your ass back to meet his strokes so hard you bounced on his cock over and over until your legs gave out and your cunt clenched around him. He didn't let up, pounding you into the mattress as your body twitched and your muscles gave out. You were exhausted, your pussy was sore, your cum dripped down your legs, drenching his pants and you loved it.
“Knew I’d break ya, Darlin” he laughed, sliding out of your cunt to manoeuvre you. You couldn't respond, your mind was cloudy. You let out a small whimper as he threw your legs back on the bed pulling them together, he straddled your bright red ass cheeks and slid inside you one again. You lay gasping and moaning as he rode you, pleasure spiked all over your body. You felt him everywhere, his hands groping every inch of you, his touch felt electrifying.
“Just a bit longer, Princess, you feel so fuckin good!” he praised and you smiled weakly at his words. Hoping to please him more you brought your arms behind your back. Reaching for your ass cheeks you groped the soft flesh, pulling them apart for him to see himself fucking your pink cunt.
“good fuckin girl” he growled as your cunt squeezed his throbbing cock. He was close, his thrusts became messy and his breathing became heavy.
“F-fuck,” you moaned as the new rhythm sent spasms through your body, another orgasm approached. “please…” you begged, but you couldn't get the words out. You gripped the soft flesh of your ass cheeks harder, stretching your pussy wider, feeling the grooves of his cock abuse you.
“Cum inside” you cried as the last tidal wave of pleasure flooded through you. Your pussy clenched around him as he fucked himself to completion in your wet hole.
“fuck!” he growled, leaning over and biting your shoulder as he pumped his seed deep inside you. You moaned at the blissful pain you felt as your pussy milked his cock. He slowly pulled back leaving just the tip in before pushing his length back inside, forcing his cum deep within your sore cunt until he was satisfied.
He finally released you from his grip, sliding from your abused cunt and tucking himself back in his pants. You hissed at the stinging sensation from his radiated cum and lay completely immobilised on the mattress. Fluids dripped from your folds and down your thighs, blood sweat and saliva covered your body.
“gonna need some radaway” you broke the silence with a weak voice. He collected his hat from the floor with a chuckle before looking over your broken form with pride.
“Maybe a stimpak too,” he suggested. You smiled.
“Mind if I travel with you a while longer, Cowboy?”
He sat on the end of the bed with a chuckle “Stay as long as you want, Beastie.”
#cooper howard#fallout#fallout 4#fallout tv series#spicy content#the ghoul smut#the ghoul x reader#cooper howard smut#cooper howard x female reader#fallout prime#the ghoul#cooper howard imagine#cooper howard x you#cooper howard x reader#degrading k1nk#spicy fic#spicy creator#teasing#tongue#hard k1nk#bd/sm kink
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Oh, the neon letters are fun. Just wish you could scale their size. As you can see, I'm taking this game very seriously. :'D
I still love how Hancock just walked into the frame and positioned himself under "Nick Valentine simps". 😭
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Master List Of Works
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Asks and submissions are currently OPEN!
[Long Form One-Shots]
☢️ Grunt Work
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 3.9k
Cooper's favorite vaultie companion is pressing her luck as of late and requires some correction.
☢️ Working Girl
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 5.4k
You knew when you took this job that it wouldn't be easy, but you didn't know you'd be expected to sleep with ghouls.
☢️ Bloodletting
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 2.8k
No one told you menstruation would be such a nightmare in the Wasteland when you left the vault. Fortunately, Cooper can offer some relief.
☢️ Close Quarters
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 2.4k
Crammed into a tight space and hiding from supposed deathclaws, you and Cooper have some sweaty, silent time to kill. Fortunately, his thigh makes as nice a seat as any.
☢️ Smooth Skin
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 3.1k
Cooper is obsessed with the pristine nature of every little thing about his brand new vaultie companion. When she sleeps, he takes a chance to look closer.
☢️ A Fair Trade
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 3.9k
Taken captive by a man who runs an outpost, things get even hairier for you when your captor can't pay an owed bounty to a particularly intimidating ghoul. Then again, maybe trading hands wouldn't be so bad...
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[Drabbles / Headcanons]
☢️ Prewar!Cooper Howard
SFW
- Has a new partner with a fear of horses. (X)
- His middle name. (X)
- Miscellaneous SFW Headcanons 1 (X)
NSFW
- Gets a little rough with a rebound after his divorce. (X)
- Has a corruption kink. (X)
- Loves to fuck outside. (X)
- Smokes during a blowjob. (X)
- Miscellaneous NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)
- Miscellaneous NSFW Headcanons 2 (X)
☢️ The Ghoul
SFW
- Is falling in love with his companion, and things are a little weird. (X)
- Admits he had work done. (X)
- If you outright asked him for a kiss. (X)
- Miscellaneous SFW Headcanons 1 (X)
NSFW
- Desperately wants to be soft with someone again. (X)
- Is excited when you try on some high heels. (X)
- Refuses to remove his clothes, ever. (X)
- Captures you as a bounty. (X)
- Has a corruption kink. (X)
- Frenches you a Rad-X. (X)
- Miscellaneous NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)
- Miscellaneous NSFW Headcanons 2 (X)
☢️ General Ghoul Posts
- On the eroticization of Rad-X and Radaway use. (X)
☢️ Non-Ghoul Content
Norm MacLean
- NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)
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sole: *breaks into the old state house in goodneighbor and holds a knife to hancock’s neck* don’t move or i’ll kill you
hancock, still half asleep: god thats so hot
sole: what the fuck
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i love him i love him so much he's my babygirl
soo yeah, i watched fallout prime. i have well um. A LOT QUESTIONS. to it's writers. but overall my thoughts are positive (as long as i don't think about shady sands).
as always, the minor little silly guy is my favorite character
i’ll try to get back to posting my stuff here (well, to posting it in general) and i think it's a good start
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Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.
Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader
Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no?
Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of)
Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao.
also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!
If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.
But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral.
It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75, where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen.
Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth.
In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back.
Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day.
A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said.
“The fuck you doin’?”
“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.”
He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking.
You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you.
Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation.
There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones.
Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”
You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”
You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.
The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready.
In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed.
Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building.
Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment.
You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you.
The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling.
Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him.
It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof.
He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”
You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.
You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette.
“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk.
“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you.
Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut.
It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then.
Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth.
It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”
You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”
He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.
“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you.
“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”
See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship?
You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul.
And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.
“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.
“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance.
“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about.
He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”
It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke
“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”
You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now.
“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.
He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands.
Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month.
It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled.
Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?”
Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered.
He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”
“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”
“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered.
“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”
“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”
“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”
“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were.
“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”
“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”
“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”
“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”
His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”
“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”
There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted. watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”
The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”
He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?”
“You don’t have to-”
“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth.
“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly.
He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.”
Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”
“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”
You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”
“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”
“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.
He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.
“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.
“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”
“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”
“That’s two questions.”
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”
“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”
“Do you regret it?”
“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”
You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.
“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand.
“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”
It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans.
You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”
“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that.
His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”
Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”
“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”
If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”
“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”
“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again.
“‘No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?”
You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”
When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning.
“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.
“So no sex then?”
Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.
“So you’ve never-”
“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.
“Not even after you left?”
“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses.
“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”
“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.
He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”
Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?”
In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening.
“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man.
“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision.
It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”
Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.
You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”
“Deal.”
You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours.
Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded.
Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind.
Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief.
An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway.
“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow.
“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts.
Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch.
“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended.
You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact.
When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.
His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body.
Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing.
“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”
When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”
“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”
“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.
He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.
It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again.
But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.
He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.
With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.
He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth.
But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly.
You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.
His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.
You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”
Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice.
The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person.
They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it.
You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders.
Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.
You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.
He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”
“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip.
“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”
Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan.
Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.
His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice.
Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning.
You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up.
“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you.
For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked.
It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit.
“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips.
But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.
“You close?”
“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still.
“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.
You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.
That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment.
His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs.
An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands.
“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him.
“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down.
“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere.
Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were.
You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him.
When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently.
With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt.
The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air.
For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.
And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come.
“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”
Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”
Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”
You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.
“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”
As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening.
One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly.
Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move.
All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.
You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.
You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress.
That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it.
You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.”
“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation.
“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”
You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly.
You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”
His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.
You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”
Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face.
He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence.
Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest.
Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt.
Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name.
He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you.
You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment.
He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night.
When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else.
You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.
The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss.
When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.
“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.
“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening.
With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this.
You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”
He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes.
It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”
He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”
You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”
“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”
You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours.
“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?” You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long.
“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”
Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”
“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”
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do you think mean ol ghoulie blows smoke in your face🥺
the fucker absolutely would and then grin when you cough 💀 alternatively he takes a hit while fucking you then hooks a thumb in your mouth to pull it open so he can force you to inhale it
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