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#x ghoul reader
nameless-ghoul-trash · 8 months
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Hi, I’m new here! I’m not sure if requests are open or if you’re currently writing for ghost, but could we have a scenario where there is a new female ghoul and they’re trying to figure out where they fit in the hierarchy. She’s bratty and challenges sodo, but he’s having none of it and it gets a bit smutty/suggestive and has her submitting. Thank you and my apologies if you don’t write anything like this!
Hello! You got the honor of being my first request! I hope this meets your expectations! I tried my best!
Sodo x F!Ghoul!Reader
2.5k words
Minors DNI
Lightly proofread
Warnings: choking, degradation, male receiving oral, spanking, cussing. (Let me know if I miss any)
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  You walk down one of the many halls of the abbey. It was time for your third practice with the rest of the band today. You were still fairly new, only having been summoned a little over a month ago. You didn't entirely have everything figured out yet. Everyone was nice enough to you. All except for one. Sodo. Brought in to be a second rhythm guitar and backup vocals, he didn't believe they needed you. Not that you were here to appease him. You first impression on each other had exactly been great either. You had pushed you luck with all of them. Getting away with most of it, much to your enjoyment.
   Coming up to the practice room, you note everyone was already there, save for Swiss and Sodo. Making your way over to your guitar case, you begin pulling everything out. Tuning and securing your guitar, you take a seat on one of the risers. You messing with your finger while waiting on the other two to show when you note a pair of feet stop in front of you, you glance up. Papa smiles down at you. "Hey, are you doing, little one?" He says to you. "I am fine, Papa. Thank you for asking." You politely respond. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Swiss saunter into the room. "Good. Are you adjusting to life in the ministry well?"  To that, you shrug, not giving a verbal response. Placing his hand on your shoulder, he gives a quick squeeze. "Well, if you are ever in need, you can come to me." He reassures, going to step away. 10 minutes pass, and you start to grow irritated. Sodo had still not shown up. Swiss and Phantom were wrestling around trying to pass the time while everyone else just lounged around.
   Not paying attention, Phantom took a step back and landed right on your tail. You immediately let out a hiss, ears flattening. The moment he lifted his foot, you wrapped your tail around yourself. Turning to look at him, you glare. "Watch what you're fucking doing!" You seethed. "Jeez, I'm sorry." He grumbled throwing his hands up in mock surrender. Sodo finally decided to make his entrance when you turn back around, a lazy grin on his face. Scoffing you stand. "Nice of you to finally show up." His grin falters slightly, eyes narrowing in on you. "If you have a problem with me, write it on a piece of paper, fold it and stick it up your ass." He spat back. You hear someone try and stiffle a snort. You roll your eyes as he moves to get ready and stand in his spot.  Papa moves to stand infront of everyone. "Okay let's start at the beginning of the set list and make our way through. Yes?" With no objections he instructs you all to start. You muddle through the first 5 song with only having a few noticeable mistakes. You were now on Cirice. You make it through the first half of the intro, but completely mess up the timing for the second half. You hadn't had much time to memorize every song yet, struggling with most of them still. Papa waved his hand to stop everyone. You immediately feel you face heat, wishing you had your helmet right about now.  "How about we start from the beginning again." Papa asks. Letting out a frustrated sigh you prepared to begin. The first half goes fine, but when you get the same spot, you can't seem to play it right. Papa stops everyone for the second time. "Let's take a breather. Pick up where we left off in about 10 minutes." A couple groans could be heard at Papa's announcement, causing your frustration and embarrassment to grow. Phantom and Papa both move towards you. Phantom showing you the tabs and Papa helping you with timing. The three of you running through it together, only for you to still not get it quite right. After your third time, you finally get it right. With some praise from Papa, everyone returns to their spots. "Okay, from the top."  
   Making it thought the rest of practice without any more major hickups, you thank Satan. Wrapping up, you walk over to where you keep your guitar. You had noticed your strings needed to be replaced during practice. Placing your guitar down, you start to pull out all the necessary equipment. Feeling someone's eyes on you, you half tun to find Sodo staring at you a few steps away from the door, waiting for the other guys. You roll your eyes, flip him off, and continue what you were originally doing. Once you finish restringing your guitar, you turn around and realize you were alone. Sighing you, look at the clock on the wall 4:28pm. Deciding to use this time to get in a little more practice without the pressure everyone being there, you get comfortable. You would have to do it all over again tomorrow.
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   In the same predicament as yesterday, everyone was waiting on Sodo. You sat quietly, strumming some cords. After about 20 minutes, Sodo finally made his presence know. He stops beside you and grabs his guitar, throwing the strap over his shoulder. "You know, for someone who's in such an important role, it seems to me like you sure don't like to be here." You mumbles loud enough for him to catch it. He pauses  looking at you. "I don't remember asking for your input." He bit back at you. You stand up, so you are toe to toe. The tension in the room was palpable. "Hey, how about we get started." Papa tried and failed to get either of your attention. The others were watching the interaction closely. "I'm just saying! Maybe that's why they brought me in. To cover for you late ass. Maybe I'll end up as your replacement. Can't preform if you don't show the fuck up. Maybe I'll end up better then you." You jab a finger in his chest, making him tense. You were pushing on a sensitive subject and you knew it. You could see his face contort in to one of anger, ears pinned back, and tail violently cutting through the air. "I'll show you exactly what you fucking are, you little bitch." The vemon in his voice threatening. You growl in a challenging manner and glare the moment the words left his mouth. Before he even made a move for you the others sprung into action. Rain getting to the two of you first, he shoved his way between, pushing the hot-headed ghoul back, baring his teeth, trying to get Sodos attention on him. Phantom going behind, he grabbed Sodos' raised arm. Sodo did not take to kindly to this, turning his angry gaze to him and ripping his arm out of his hands. "That is enough!" Papa bellowed out. Voice packed with authority. At his words, everyone froze. It startled you he had never spoken in such a way around you before. "I will not have you guys fighting. You have a job to do now fucking do it."  Slowly everyone moved to their respective places, Sodo's eyes tracking your movements. You stood your ground and held your head high, not letting him win.
   Practice went relatively smoothly. The room remained tense. Not many words spoken aside from Papa giving instructions. At the end, you were quick to put everything away and try to leave.  Meeting you at the door, Swiss offers a smile. "I'll walk back with you." Shrugging, you walk out to into the hall. "You know that took some real balls. Going toe to toe with our residential gremlin like that."  You give a snort. "Well, if he didn't waste my time, I wouldn't have done it." A lie. You probably still would find a reason to make a smart-ass remark one way or another. He chuckles a bit. "I think you should be careful, though. He can be a bit unpredictable at times."  You shake your head with a light chuckle. "Thanks for the warning, I guess. I'm sure I could handle myself, though. Plus, you guys can just save me again!" You say jokingly, giving a small smile. The rest of the way, you guys are in a comfortable silence. Getting back to the ghouls den you b-line straight for the kitchen. "Thanks for walking with me." You call back to swiss. "No problem." Grabbing a snack, you make your way to your room, locking the door. You typically avoid eating supper with the rest of the band, choosing to instead stay in your room. Normally, you wait for everyone to go where they would be staying for the night before leaving your room. 
   You decide tonight you would watch some TV in the common room once it was empty. Putting your snack of choice on your bedside table, you strip. Throwing on a tank top and a pair of sleep shorts, you burrow into your nest of blankets and open the book you've been working on to pass the time.
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   Around 11:30, you had finally curled up on the couch, eating leftovers. Flipping through different shows, you finally pick a movie. Putting the remote down, you sink back into the couch and focus on the screen. Finishing your food, you pause the movie and head to the kitchen. You try to wash your dishes as quietly as possible. Putting the now clean dishes away, you walk back to the couch. Before you can sit back down, you hear a voice come from behind you. "So it does come out of its room."  Spinning around you face the unexpected presence "What the fuck do you want? And dont call me an it, asshat." Sodo snickers at you. "You know that attitude of yours, it's going to land you in more trouble then I think you realize." He warned.
   You take him in for a second. He was in a tee-shirt and a loose-fitting pair of sweatpants. His long hair flowing over his shoulders. His eyes are zeroed in on you. Slowly, he walks around the couch to stand in front of you. "And what are you going to do about?" You challenge stepping closer so your noses are barely 4 inches apart. His eyes darken. "I'll do exactly what I told you I would."  In one fluid motion, he grabs onto your right knee and drags it up to his waist, his other hand pushing you down to the couch by your neck simultaneously. You let out a surprised cry as your back lands on the couch, Sodos body above you. Hand still on your throat, he pushes your body to be completely on the couch and leans down. "I'm going to show you exactly what you are, and no one's here to save you this time." He whispered in your ear before chuckling darkly and nipping at the shell of your ear. Shivers trail down your spin, a pool of heat forming in your belly. His grip on your neck tightens, but not to the point that it would hurt you too much. His tail comes up the wrap tightly around the ankle of the leg he has pinned to his side so he could let go. Leaning back up, he looks you dead in the eye. "I suggest you be a very good girl." He pushed your shorts aside and runs a finger through your wet folds. His words and actions cause you to swallow a moan. You couldn't get your thoughts in order, just staring up at him. "Are you going to be a good girl for me? Or am i going to fuck that attitude right out of you." He questioned dragging his finger over your clit, pulling a gasp from you. You stare at him for just a minute longer before narrowing your eyes. "I don't think you could, I heard that your dicks about as short as your temper." You provoke him, trying to push his buttons. You must have pushed the right button because before you knew it he was getting off you and manhandled you so you were laying across his lap.
   Grabbing your tail with one hand to keep it out of the way, he slides your shorts down to expose your ass. "Count" was the only warning you got before a resounding smack rang through the room. The impact on you ass left a burning sting, making you gasp. He waited a moment, rubbing the now tender spot. When he didn't hear a word from you, he growled. "I said count." Smack. Gasping out a strangled one, he sounded pleased. He rubbed the spot again before landing another blow. Smack. "Two." Smack. "Three." Smack. "Four." By the fourth, you had tears rolling down your face. Letting go of your tail, he set you up he  and wiped them away. "Are you okay?" He asked softy, forehead touching yours. You nodded. "Can you keep going?" Another nod. "I need words." He pressed. You finally let out a small "Yes." To which he grinned, his kind and caring demeanor for a few seconds ago completely changed. "Good. Get on your knees in front of me." His voice full of authority. Looking at him, your eyes widen. "What?" He gave you a dark look. "I said, get on you fucking knees." Sinking onto the floor you do as he says.
   Lifting his hips he pushes his pants down, releasing his fully hard cock from its confines. He was anything but small. Studying him for a minute, you let out an unsteady breath. The head was a flushed, angry pink. The body of his cock had a slight curve and the perfect amount of veins running the length of it. Making eye contact you reach for it. "Be a good little slut. Suck it." He taunts. Taking it in your hands, you pump it a few times before bringing it to your lips. His body shudders under your touch, his eyes closing. Suckling on the head a bit, you continue to watch him, gauging his reactions.  Eventually, you sink down to take as much it to your mouth as you could manage. Bringing lips back up to the tip, you begin to bob up and down. Sodo's let's out a strangled moan. His hand reaches for you, entangling in your (h/c) hair, and presses you down harder. "You like that, don't you? You like chocking on my cock like the whore you are?" You moan on his dick at the question. Opening his eyes, listening to the sounds you make. He starts thrusts into your mouth a couple of times. "Your a little slut. A little slut who likes sucking on my cock. You dirty little whore." He then pushes to the back of your throat and stills. You suck hard as you drag up to the tip, ripping a groan out of him. Sliding back down as far as you can manage, you do it three more times.  With tight grip on your hair, he pulls you off his dick, saliva still connecting your lips to it. "You keep doing that your going to make me cum." Sodo pants, smiling. "That was the plan." You smile back. "How about we finish this in my room?" Sodo releases his grip on your hair and helps you up.
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The next day, everybody was sitting in the practice room, waiting for Sodo. You had your insults locked and loaded but for different reasons now. You knew there would be consequences, and you were going to enjoy every minute of it.
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Feedback is always appreciated! Thank you for the read! Requests are open!
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wrr000 · 11 days
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ghouljams · 5 months
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I think Price is a tummy man. Loves to kiss your stomach, grab it to pull you back into his thrusts, loves to see your shirt lift up a little when you reach for something on the top shelf. He's a provider, he likes knowing you're well fed, healthy, that he's providing for you. He likes his baby soft. Maybe he's a little old fashioned like that.
And Ghost likes thighs, he will not budge on this. Nothing you can say will change his mind that there's no better spot to lay his head, nothing softer he'd rather be between, and certainly nowhere better to mark up. Again it's the softness! He's got enough hard shit to deal with(wink) that he wants to have some softness with you. Let him be soft and needy and lay his head on your lap, he won't fall asleep this time he promises.
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gojosprettyprincess · 2 months
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A/n wrote this at 5am so I apologize for any errors! <3 also it's poorly written but I hope you guys still like it.
Yk what fucking drives me crazy the most?
Sweet innocent looking men that treats you so well, I'm talking like he writes you cute poems, follows you around everywhere like a lost puppy and gets all flustered and shy when you want to go to Victoria secret to get new bras and panties but he still goes in with you anyways with his hand clinging onto your arm instead of just leaving because anything for you, the way his face melts into your hand whenever you'd cup his cheeks, looking at you with those innocent puppy dog eyes then he kisses your hand. Like he's just such a cutie you know? He'd let you do his makeup and let you baby him and feed him. Literally just anything you want he'd do it and lets you do. Whatever makes you happy.
And that same sweet innocent guy would have you against the wall, his strong arms holding you up, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he slams his hips against you, each thrust pushing you higher against the wall as he let you drop back down on his fat cock after, and he's even noisier than you are, loud whimpers and groans escaping his lips as he looks at your face, feeling satisfied and happy that his thick cock is the reason for your cute fucked out expression and sweet moans that are like music to his ears. Your nails leaving long red marks on his shoulders and back that he's sooo proud of having, he loves it when you do that, it's like a reward to him for making you feel good. His big strong arms pressing your legs back even further up as your knees raised up by your shoulders, giving him a deeper angle as his cock brushed against the right spots inside you that made you see stars to the point where you can't even think straight.
"O-oh fuck! baby, need you to cum ple-ase, fuck! please, wanna see you make a mess on my cock please I'm begging you princess", his voice cracks as he whimpers it out to you. The sweet and innocent needy tone in his voice compared to his rough pounding like he fucking hates you and had to prove it was all it took for you to cream around him, nails digging deeply into his back as he's practically making out with your neck, kissing and sucking on the tender flesh, leaving a bunch of purple and red marks that's definitely going to make him all fluttered and shy when he sees them in a few hours, remembering about what happened earlier. His eyes rolling back as he feels you coating his cock with your cum and dripping all over him.
"Ngh! Oh fuck, Tha-nk you! Thank you so much, gon-na cum!". He cries out. Your toes curling as he sped up his pace, hammering his cock in a reckless pace into your poor cunt, his thick cock head kissing your cervix with each one of his deep thrusts as he greedily chases his orgasm. He made sure to have his cock so deep inside of you to the hilt so he can fill you up full of his cum as he painted your tight walls white, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his cock, stuffing your hungry cunt full as he lets out a shaky groan while planting his face in your neck. He starts breathing heavily, panting against your neck as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. And you know what? He slowly pulls it out of you, being sooo careful that he doesn't spill any cum as he grips on your thighs even tighter before getting on his knees and eating all of his cum out of your filthy stuffed cunt like the good boy he is, after all its his mess and well, yours also but he doesn't mind! he just wants to make it easier for you to clean you know? :(
Choso, Izuku, Armin, Toge, Zentisu, Kirishima, Yuuji, Kaneki.
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chestharrington · 7 months
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Girls On Film || Steve Harrington x Reader
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Summary: Steve's absentee parents gift him a camcorder for graduation. What better way to find out how it works than making a sex tape?
Couple: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)
Content Warnings: explicit smut (f!receiving oral, handjob, p in v sex ft. girl on top), sex on camera, filming a sex tape, lovey-dovey adorable dorks in love
Word Count: 3.7k
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Your heart soared with pride as Steve walked off the football field towards you, wearing a goofy-looking gown and graduation cap. As soon as he reached you, he lifted you up and gave you a tiny spin, smiling ear to ear. 
“You’re looking at a college grad,” he said with a smug smile after he put you down. You beamed at him as he lifted his hand and showed off the shiny gold class ring. “I’m never taking this thing off.”
You grinned, tugging at the graduation gown. “What about this thing? You willing to take this off for me?” You smiled wryly and pressed a kiss on his cheek. 
A throat cleared behind you both and you turned, looking at the party and Robin standing with various levels of disgust evident on their faces. 
Robin wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Keep it in your pants, please. Or, I guess keep it in your large, nylon zippy robe.” She squeezed between you and kissed Steve on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Steve.”
Dustin stepped forward next and gave Steve a big hug— he’d hit a growth spurt since you last saw him and was nearly as tall as Steve. Lucas, Will, and Mike all offered their congratulations combined with complaints about how boring the ceremony was after they got through the H last names. 
Max crossed her arms as El wheeled her over, trying her best to be nonchalant. “I can’t see you, but I know you look dumb in that stupid hat.” Steve gave a fake laugh, took the hat from his head, and placed it on hers. “Ew, it’s all sweaty, you jerk.” She smiled despite herself and held the hat against her chest.
Steve wrinkled his nose in a way that told you he was trying his best not to cry. You knew it meant a lot to him that they’d shown up. 
“Why don’t we all go for lunch?” You suggested. “My treat.” Not wanting the reunion to end, and not wanting to turn down a free lunch, everyone piled into their cars and headed to Steve’s favorite place.
When you and Steve got into his car, you were greeted by the shrill sound of his car phone ringing. With a furrowed brow, he reached over and retrieved the bulky device from its bag and answered. Even from across the car, you could hear the tinny noise of his mother speaking on the phone. 
“Yeah, the ceremony is over,” he said, jaw ticking. “I sent you both the invitation two months ago.” He looked over with an exasperated look, so you grabbed his hand to give a comforting squeeze. “Well, we’re all going to lunch if you can make it.”
You frowned, but didn’t say anything. Despite their apparent lack of care, you knew that he valued their approval and time.
“Oh. Right, I understand.” He sighed deeply. “Well, I appreciate it. Okay. Okay, bye.”
He hung up and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They, uh, they got double booked. They’re in Buffalo for a conference right now.”
Your gaze softened at the sight of his disappointed expression. “I know they’re proud of you, Steve.” He nodded, but didn’t look entirely convinced. You pulled the hand intertwined with yours up and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles.
————
When you arrived at your shared condo, you were greeted by a gift-wrapped box on the porch. You had to help him carry it in through the door, huffing as you both dropped it onto your coffee table. 
Steve shrugged off the graduation gown he was wearing and kneeled to unwrap the present. A large card taped to the top revealed the senders, as if that were in question. 
“To our firstborn son— congratulations! Love, Mr and Mrs Harrington.” The emotionless text almost made you grimace. You’d never read something more blatantly written by a personal assistant in your life. 
“Jesus,” he muttered as he tore away the wrapping to reveal the gift. “This thing must’ve cost a fortune.” You glanced over as he held up a plastic case and found nothing that might have revealed its contents. 
“What is it?” You asked, kneeling down beside him and leaning in close. He popped open the case and held up a hulking piece of machinery. 
“It’s a camcorder,” he said with a grin. “It’s the best one on the market.”
You raised your eyebrows and tried not to ask what he even needed one of those for. Video cameras were for new parents and aspiring filmmakers, not college grads.
Your own gift felt tiny in comparison, even though you’d been saving for a few months to afford it. Between rent for you and Steve’s condo, groceries, and gas for your cars, it wasn’t easy to have expendable cash to buy nice gifts with. 
You stayed quiet as Steve marveled at the fancy gift, holding it up to his face like he was testing how it looked through the viewfinder. 
“Gorgeous,” he said, peeking out at you. “I think I found my muse.” You scoffed and covered the camera with your hand even though it wasn’t charged. 
“Plug it in and we’ll see how it works later,” you said. “For now… I have a gift for you.”
He sat up, wearing a grin. “Is it lingerie? Is it dinner at The Olive Garden? Is it a bubble bath?” He leaned in and nipped at your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, tell me—“
You giggled as he pinned you down on the rug, peppering kisses on your cheeks. “Steveeee,” you groaned. He finally stopped, hovering over you. “You’re such a spoiled brat.” That made him grin even more. He pecked your lips chastely, then sat back on his knees. 
You scrambled to stand up and grinned. “Stay there, alright?” He nodded and you disappeared into your shared bedroom. 
Hidden away in your bedside table was a glass trinket box you’d thrifted a few months ago. It was shaped like a heart, with little gold foil embellishments. You couldn’t leave without it. You knew the real gift was inside, but you still hoped that Steve would like the box. 
Steve was fiddling with the camera when you stepped back into the living room, trying his best to plug it in to charge. When he saw you, though, he smiled and sat down on the couch, waiting for you to join him. 
“It isn’t much,” you insisted as you handed it over. “I hope you like it though.”
He smiled and nudged your cheek with his nose. “Are you joking? This is adorable. I love it. I’m gonna keep all my important stuff in here.”
You smiled and shook your head. “Babe, open it.” He looked sheepish as he lifted the lid, then his expression softened. You watched with a fluttering in your chest as he lifted the chain from the box.
It took months to save up for real gold, and then for the pendants after. Two initials— his and yours. “If you don’t like it, I can take it back and get something you actually w—“ 
 He cut you off with a quick kiss that made your head spin. “It’s perfect. Best gift I’ve ever gotten, hands down. And one year I got Yankees tickets behind the plate for my birthday.” He was quick to put it on, smiling over at you. “How do I look?”
You pecked his cheek. “A million bucks, babe.” He leaned in and gave you a real kiss— deep and intense. You smiled against his lips and melted into his touch. You’d never loved someone the way you loved him. 
“Wanna know what’s crazy?” He said after he pulled away. You nodded and he gestured towards the bedroom. “I bought you something too. Stay here.”
You sat patiently as he got up and hurried into the bedroom. You heard scuffling and the sounds of moving drawers until he returned, holding a wooden box. 
“Your gift is inside this, by the way,” he teased as he sat back beside you. You watched him with anticipation until he flipped it open and your heart stopped. 
“So, uh, I got you jewelry too,” he said softly, or maybe your ears were just ringing. 
Inside the box, nestled in the middle of a tiny silk pillow, was a diamond ring. 
Like, a diamond ring. The kind you get married with. 
“That’s—“
He nodded. “Yeah, it is,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “Will you marry me?”
In lieu of a verbal response, you put the ring on and kissed him like he was your one and only source of oxygen. It felt like it anyway— that if you parted from him even a little you’d cease to exist. 
“Yes?” He asked, smiling nervously. “That’s a yes?”
You kissed him again. “It’s a yes, Steve. I wanna marry you.”
———
Steve forgot about the video camera in the excitement of the engagement. Because he had to call Robin’s hotel and let her know, and then she spilled the news to the party, and suddenly it felt like everyone from Hawkins was in the tiny condo. 
After hours and hours of catching up and celebrating the day, you and Steve were left alone in a quiet house. 
“So… the future Mrs. Steve Harrington…” you turned and rolled your eyes at the sight of Steve holding the video camera that had been charging all night. “Anything you want to say to the camera on the night of our engagement?”
“How do you know I’m not keeping my last name?” You asked as he got closer, putting the lens right in your face. You giggled and ducked out of the way as the lens came close to knocking against your nose. “You’re such a child.”
He grinned. “Alright, give me something to remember this night by. For posterity, baby.”
You smiled wickedly at him before lifting the hem of your shirt, flashing your tits at him and the camera. By the time you lowered your shirt back down, his mouth was ajar. “We are never showing anyone this video now.”
You grinned. “Nuh-uh, baby, this is all for you.” You raised your brows in a challenge and stepped into the bedroom, leaving him to hurry behind you with the clunky machine. 
He stood in the doorway, camera focused on you as you slipped off your blouse and skirt. The whirring of machinery inside the camera indicated he was zooming in on your tits. You stifled a laugh at the noise as he zoomed out again, taking in all of you.
“Strip for me,” he directed behind the camera. You gave a wry grin as your thumbs slipped behind the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs slowly. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. Gonna put on a show for me?”
You settled on the bed on all fours, back arched as you crawled towards the headboard. Steve groaned at the sight, breath shuddering as you flipped around and spread your legs for him. Without needing instructions, you slipped one hand between your legs and let the other move to your chest, kneading your breast between your fingers. 
He moved from the doorway— the magnetic pull of you too much to resist for long. He settled at the end of the bed, the camera so close it made butterflies swell in your tummy. He moved the camera to your hands, one between your legs, teasing your clit and dipping into the pool of arousal at your center, and the other toying with your nipples, the shiny diamond on the engagement ring glinting with each small movement. 
“Christ, baby hold the camera—“ he said suddenly, passing it over to you. You laughed as he practically threw it into your hands and you had to scramble to turn it right side up. 
You laughed as he tore off his clothes, probably popping some buttons here and there. “Steve, what are you— oh!” 
Without hesitation, Steve buried his head between your thighs, moaning at the taste of your juices as he lapped at your pussy. It was a struggle to film him and enjoy the moment, especially since you had to watch him through the viewfinder. But something about capturing something so intimate on film made a thrill run through you. 
“Fuck, Steve—“ you moaned, being more vocal than you normally would for the camera. Fuck the neighbors, honestly. It was your engagement night! “Your mouth feels so good, honey.” 
His brown eyes peered up at you, at the camera, framed by pretty long lashes. His lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked lightly, making your legs tremble. Your free hand moved to his hair, tangling in the soft locks as his mouth elicited gasps and moans. 
A slick sheen had formed on the tip of his nose, his mouth, and chin from his ministrations. The sight made heat bloom in the pit of your stomach. His eyes fluttered closed as he lost himself in you— relishing in your sounds, your smell, your taste. 
A light pat on your thigh was his wordless signal for you to move and accommodate him more. You acquiesced, spreading your legs as much as you were comfortably able to, and he let his fingertips tease at your center. 
“Relax for me, baby,” he said, his words vibrating against your clit. He gave the bundle of nerves a light kiss before he looked up at you. “I’ve got you. Just…” He pushed his middle finger into you and you moaned low in your throat, instinctively pushing back against the intrusion. “That’s it. Just like that.”
He was always so gentle with you during foreplay— taking his time to really explore every single spot that he knew made you tick. You shuddered as the pad of his finger pressed against a particularly sensitive spot within you. He knew you like the back of his hand— probably better. He slid a second finger beside the first, coaxing moans and gasps from you as he gave all his attention to your clit and g-spot.
Your thighs trembled as you fought the instinct to close them around his head, the stimulation bordering on too much. The softness of his mouth on you, the press of his fingers against the most sensitive spot inside— making you cum was simply too easy for him. You barely had time to gasp out a breathy “I’m cumming—“ before your orgasm hit you. Your walls gripped his fingers like a vise as he worked you through it, muttering praise against your cunt before he withdrew his fingers completely. 
You stared at the ceiling, trying to find your breath. “C’mere. It's your turn,” you said with a grin. 
Steve simply shook his head. “Not done.” He moved his mouth back to your cunt, this time without the hungry ferocity. You sighed at the sensation, your legs twitching when the tip of his tongue brushed against your clit. His movements lost purpose with each pass of his tongue until he was practically making out with your pussy.
Your head fell back against the pillows, soft gasps slipping past your lips. Steve moaned against you as you tugged his hair, a furrow forming between his brows. So utterly lost in you that he hadn’t even noticed that he was rutting against the bed for friction. 
“C’mere,” you said softly. He pressed a final, wet kiss to your pussy before resting his head on the plush of your thigh. Your stomach flipped as he licked his lips, chasing those last remnants of your taste. He pressed a soft kiss to your belly before crawling up to meet you.
The kiss you shared was hungry and slow. The camera was shoved to the side so you could put your mouth on his— tongues meeting, the tang of your arousal and his spit flooding your senses. 
A low moan escaped his lips as your hand snaked between your two bodies, where you took his length into your hand and stroked slowly. His mouth fell open, a small furrow between his brows. 
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. You smiled up at him innocently and let your thumb glide across his tip. A full-body shiver overtook him, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. Steve was easy to love all the time, but especially when he was needy. “Switch spots with me.” When you furrowed your brows he nodded towards the camera. “Please?”
When he sat back on his heels, you moved from beneath him and let him settle with his back against the pillows. You were slightly annoyed that he had control of the camera, because goddamn. His thighs were bowed out slightly, cock resting against his stomach. The sight made your heart hammer as you straddled his thighs.
Steve took the camera back into his hands, a wide smile on his face. “Alright, just do what you were doing,” he instructed. “Left hand though.”
You glanced down at your hand and smiled softly. The engagement ring— your engagement ring— glinted up at you. You spit onto your hand and Steve groaned at the sight. 
“Haven’t even touched you yet,” you teased.
“Don’t let me stop you.” His voice wavered, revealing just how needy he really was.
He cried out the moment your hand wrapped around his length, head tossed back against the headboard. His cock pulsed in your hand as it glided up and down, aching for more. You leaned down, spitting onto his tip, giving you more slickness to work with. 
“Fuck,” he groaned, his chest heaving. You moved your right hand to his balls, kneading them as you focused your attention on the head. “Jesus, look at that fuckin’ rock, huh?”
You rolled your eyes and chuckled wryly. “That’s what you’re thinking about? Not— y’know— the handjob to end all handjobs?” To prove your point, you twisted your hand and let your thumb glide over his slit. He practically whimpered, bucking into your grip. 
You redoubled your efforts, relishing in each desperate, whiny noise you were able to elicit. He was getting close— you could feel it in the way he throbbed in your hand, and hear it in the desperate pants and moans passing his lips. Before he could finish, you slowed your pace and let him come back from the edge. 
He sat there, arm slung over his eyes, just catching his breath. “Earth to Steve?” You teased, placing a kiss on his tummy. He made a low noise in the back of his throat and took another deep breath. 
“Okay, I’m good,” he said, a breathy laugh escaping his lips as he finally lowered his arm and looked at you. “Just needed a minute so I didn’t—“ You giggled as he mimed an explosion, completely unabashed about the effect you had on him. 
He grabbed the camera and placed it on the bedside table, doing his best to angle it just right. “Alright… wanna take a ride on the Harrington Express?” He patted his thighs with a smug expression and you groaned in annoyance. 
“Steve.”
“Fine. I’ll be so cool. I’ll be totally normal. But just know… you’re marrying a loser.”
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly as you straddled his thighs. “I wouldn’t have it any other way… most of the time.”
He stared up at you like you hung the moon, all doe eyes and heart-shaped pupils. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, tender and slow, and you hummed contentedly at the feeling. 
“I love you,” he murmured against your lips. He moved one of your hands from his shoulder and down to his chest, where his heart thumped steadily. For you.
Your own heart lurched in your chest as a swell of emotions overtook you. “I love you too, Steve.”
You reached between the two of you, taking his cock into your hand so you could position him at your entrance. You breathed slowly through your nose as you sank down— the prep and attention he had given you made the stretch comfortable and bearable, so all you felt was the pleasurable full feeling that he gave you.
Once you were fully seated, you gave an experimental roll of your hips. A moan escaped you at the feeling— as each tiny movement made delicious electricity run along your nerves. 
He sat up fully, his chest pressing against yours, holding you firmly against him. “That’s it, baby,” he groaned, cutting himself off to plant wet kisses along your jaw and throat. “Feels so good. Love the way your pussy feels around me.”
He cried out as you began to ride him in earnest, not caring how thin the walls of the condo were. His hands gripped onto your hips and dimpled the plush skin there as he began to meet your thrusts with his own. With each movement, you could feel him getting deeper until you could practically feel him in your guts. 
“Steve,” you gasped out, meeting his gaze as he fucked up into you. The sound of his name seemed to spur him on.
“Say it again,” he demanded. “Touch yourself while you do,”
You whimpered at the tone of his voice, snaking a hand between your bodies to toy with your clit. Your limbs felt like jelly as he continued to fuck the life and brains out of you. “St-Steve, fuck, baby,” you cried between the hiccup-y sobs of pleasure that were punched from your lungs.
“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. Not gonna last like this.”
“Don’t,” you managed. “Cum for me. With me.” You leaned in and kissed him in a way that felt like more saliva than lips. 
When you pulled back, he nodded, forehead pressed against yours as you both worked each other over the edge. Your vision was spotted with pinpricks of light while he worked you through it, his moans distant in your ears. 
You were both panting, nearly tacked together with sweat as you came down. You chuckled lightly as you tilted your head to look at him. “That was one hell of a celebration.” He intertwined your fingers and placed a kiss on your ring finger. 
“And we have the rest of our lives to do it again, and again, and again, and ag—“ 
You shut him up with a kiss. You figure that for the rest of your lives, that’s always going to work. 
It does.
4K notes · View notes
ghastlylamb · 12 days
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"I won't simp for another ghoul, it's not gonna happen again-"
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"IM BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING AGAIN"
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ghoulphile · 9 days
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sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!
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It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.
City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?
Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.
Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.
It’s easy to get lost.
Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.
Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.
If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.
Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.
You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.
No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.
Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.
You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.
Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.
Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.
You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.
Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?
Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.
Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.
"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"
There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.
Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.
It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.
Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.
Pay dirt.
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Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.
Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.
Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.
He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.
Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.
Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.
A small mercy you’re thankful for.
While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.
You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.
Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.
Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.
Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.
Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.
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However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.
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The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.
Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.
Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.
Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.
"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."
Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.
“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”
Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”
He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"
“N-No…”
“How’s about I show you, then?”
Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.
“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”
What the hell is he talking about?
It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.
The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.
You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.
Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.
The Radstorm has finally arrived.
You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.
Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”
Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.
He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.
You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.
“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”
A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.
“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”
His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.
“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”
Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.
Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.
Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position. 
Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”
"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."
Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.
You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.
"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"
He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.
The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.
A shiver ricochets down your spine.
He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."
The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.
You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."
He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.
"So let me go?"
"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."
Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.
“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”
There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.
“Hey, wait--!”
You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.
Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."
There's no way he can't feel your reaction.
How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.
It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.
"You like this, don'tcha?"
You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.
He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"
You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.
"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”
A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.
Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.
You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.
"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."
A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.
Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.
"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.
You keen, low and wounded.
Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.
“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”
"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."
It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.
You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”
This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.
Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.
That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.
“I - I’m not sure.”
He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.
Stronger, quicker.
This is going to happen either way.
And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.
If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.
Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.
Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.
His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”
The or else goes unspoken.
Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.
You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.
So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.
Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.
You tense before forcing yourself to relax.
“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”
A test.
You breathe a sigh of relief.
“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”
Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.
“That’s what I like ta hear.”
Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.
He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.
And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.
Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”
His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”
Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.
“I-”
“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”
He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--
You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.
Is that a chance you’re willing to take?
No, no it’s not.
“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”
The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.
“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”
Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.
“I’m - YOURS!”
Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.
Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.
He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.
“Wait!”
Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.
You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”
“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”
Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.
Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.
Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.
“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.” 
“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.
The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.
"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."
He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”
Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.
Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.
You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.
“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”
You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.
Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.
“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”
“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”
With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.
“Just like that, Sweetheart.”
You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.
Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”
Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”
His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”
While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”
Pretty, you think, dazed.
Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.
“That’s it, there’s my good girl."
Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.
“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.
His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.
Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.
You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.
“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”
You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.
A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”
Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.
He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.
“And cum for me.”
A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.
Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.
“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”
A nip to the ear is all it takes.
“Hhaah, I’m--!”
The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.
You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.
In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.
“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”
You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.
Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."
“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”
You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”
“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”
The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.
“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”
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buryustogether · 5 days
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songbird
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the ghoul x f!reader
summary: you used to be a singer in your vault - that skill comes in handy when you least expect it, and least want to use it. but who are you to say no when cooper tells you to sing for him?
wc: 5.7k
warnings: swearing, talk of murder, blood, alcohol, gun violence, sexual tension, smut, fingering, p in v sex, biting, possessive sex, possessive cooper
You had to admit - if you and your companion didn't find shelter soon, one of you was going to drop and the other wouldn't hesitate to feast on what was left.
The deserts of the Wasteland were harsh - you had known that the moment you stepped out of your vault those months ago and you had been faced with nothing but a searing sun, sand that got stuck places it shouldn't have, and creatures and fellow people alike who would risk it all simply for a quick grab at the pack on your back. But it seemed like this past week, God or Satan or whoever the fuck was controlling this shitshow of a world was in a bad mood. The heat was unbearable, even at night when the chilly winds should have weaseled their way beneath your vault suit and cooled your burning skin. Creatures mutated by the long-settled radiation were feeling the anger of the wasteland, as well, charging without warning or provocation. To top off a less than perfect week, your water supply had run out yesterday, and unless the skies opened up and released a storm of rad-infested hail upon your head, you weren't sure you would find any more before you keeled over and kicked it.
Struggling to plant your feet stable in the mounds of sand beneath you as you made your way between the shells of buildings that had once stood tall and proud, you glanced over your shoulder at your companion. Cooper was better adapted for this kind of environment than you were, what with his hardened skin and the wide brim of his hat shielding his face, but even he looked worse for wear. When he picked up his head, seeming to feel your eyes on him, you quickly averted your gaze and set your attention back on moving one foot in front of the other.
"Fuck're you lookin' at?" he said, his voice raspy as he called out through the dry air.
"Nothing," you snipped back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of facing him again. "Just wondering if I'm going to have to carry you the rest of the way, asshole."
The heat was making you both snappy - you hated it.
Your first meeting with Cooper hadn't gone smoothly. Hell, your second or third hadn't, either. You weren't exactly sure when you had fallen into a more comfortable presence around one another, but it sure as shit hadn't happened overnight. You'd been only half a day fresh from your vault when you'd seen him scavenging madly over a mess of bodies he'd dropped where they stood, searching for a number of vials kept in their pockets that he let drip into his open mouth like a fountain of youth. When you had called out a friendly hello to him, he'd nearly shot your brains out. Cooper had taken in your shocked expression - as you'd clearly never seen a ghoul before - as well as the stark blue of your vault suit and the pack over your shoulders, then promptly told you to scoot your ass back around to wherever the hell you had come from. Of course, you hadn't. You'd followed him from a distance, watching as he'd picked his way across the dusty sands until he'd wrangled you with the lasso at his hip, told you to fuck right off, and left you tied to a number of old pipes in the basement of a nearly collapsed building.
A day later, you'd tracked his footprints in the sand to a little settlement, where you hadn't ducked away quick enough to avoid his gaze. He'd threatened to blow your brains out if he caught you following him again. He'd only half-delivered on that promise when, not ten hours later, he'd planted a fist-sized hole in the skull of a raider attempting to cut your throat for the Pip-Boy affixed to your wrist.
From then on, he'd simply chosen to ignore you as you followed behind him like a lost dog, intent on staying with the biggest, baddest wolf in the yard. After a week, he'd tossed you a part of his rations. A week after that, he'd - not too gently - invited you to sit at the campfire with him when he saw you shivering beneath your thin, vault-issued blanket a good few yards away.
Somewhere along the way you'd started to talk. Started to share - at least, you had. Cooper had simply tucked his hat over his eyes and pretended not to listen while you rattled about this and that until he physically couldn't take it anymore and told you to go the fuck to sleep.
These months later, having accompanied him all this time, you didn't hesitate to call him a friend. Maybe something more, if you let the ache between your legs when you looked at him speak for you, but you knew it was a fantasy and nothing more, so you decided to stick with 'friend.'
Back in the present, you swallowed and winced when your throat barked with a bout of pain in response. You didn't think you'd make it another mile, let alone five, which was how far Cooper claimed the nearest town was. Despite the months you'd spent adapting out here to the wastelands, you were still attempting to cope with the hardships that came with it. Vault life wasn't anything like this; there was always water to drink, beds to sleep in. Cool air to bask in when it got just the slightest bit too hot. Of course, you didn't voice these complains to your companion. If you did, you had no doubt he'd tell you to shut the fuck up and deal with it.
Just as you were about to ask if you could take a short break and get away from the harsh sun beating on your back like repeated blows from a red-hot hammer, a gloved hand wrapped around your arm and held you in place. You jerked to a stop, nearly falling back on your ass as Cooper held you where you stood. You prepared a strongly-worded question as to just what he was doing before you followed his gaze downward, to where a small handful of pairs of footprints traveled perpendicular to yours. Together, you tilted your heads to the left where the foreign prints were headed, and it was there you found a small slope leading downward into what may have once been a shopping mall. From where you stood, you were able to see that the glass dome around the center of the mall had been shattered, letting out the gentle sound of music and human hollers.
You exchanged a look with Cooper, each of you sunken from the iron-fisted heat weighing you down, then slid down the sandy slope after him when he took off toward the shopping mall.
If there was one thing you had learned about Cooper since planting yourself at his side and refusing to leave, it was that he valued silence above almost everything else. You, on the other hand, had come from a talkative vault, where gossip reached every end of every chamber only an hour - at max - after anything noteworthy had happened. Your companion had once called you the biggest yap he'd ever heard, and you would have taken it for a compliment had he not told you to shove it a moment after. The two of you had been silent nearly the entire day now, save for a few venomous barks at each other, and you cleared your scratchy throat in an attempt to lighten your shitty moods.
"I used to read about shopping malls in the magazines," you said, leaning your weight backwards as the sandy slope shifted downward. "They had all kinds of stores inside."
"Thanks for the reminder," Cooper bit back, quickening his stride. "Would have fuckin' forgot without you here."
You let your eyes roll into the back of your head as you struggled to catch up to him, your boots digging into the uneven earth beneath you. "When I was a kid, a few of my friends and I would draw pictures of clothes - because, you know, we only had our suits - and then spread them across one of our rooms and pretend to shop. It was stupid, but it we made entertainment where we could."
"Now, was this before you started pretending to be Billie Holliday?"
You gave him a sideways glance. "Who's that?"
Cooper shook his head and took off ahead of you. "Jesus fuckin' Christ."
During one of your, as your companion called them, yap sessions, you had confided in him that your vault valued the arts above anything else. Since you were a child, they had encouraged you to find something you enjoyed, as long as you were able to call yourself an artist. Painting hadn't worked out too well. Writing had been a bust. But then you'd discovered singing - a way in which you were able to express yourself without actually saying how you felt. You could drape the tunes in metaphors and similes, bump the second verse from the first, and when you were done, everyone would get to their feet to applaud as if your songs were the best things they'd ever heard. Cooper hadn't expressed much interest in this, instead taking to calling you a songbird with her wings clipped when he deemed you were at your lowest and needed to be kicked while you were down.
Of course, you hadn't shown him - you would have to be long dead for that - but over the course of the few months you'd known him, you had confided in your notebook carried in your pack all the little things you'd come up with that complimented his persona. How the gold at his heels called for you with each step he took. The way his hands, encased behind leather that creaked, held a smoke so delicately you could have imagined it was you. The rasping curl of his words when he smiled while he spoke and how each word cast a spell that made you want to follow him until the sun exploded and the earth was gone.
Cooper was an enigma you couldn't help but wonder after, and every scrap of himself he tossed to you led you on like a dog on a leash.
The music and echoing sound of laughter from deep inside the shopping mall became louder as the pair of you approached, eyes scanning for snipers on the roof or guards posted at the busted-out windows. There wasn't a person in sight, only mannequins stripped of their clothing hanging out the openings and long-shredded posters clinging to broken glass. Cooper led the way inside, picking a path across the wreckage and rubble stacked haphazardly against the entrance. You felt your pulse tick up when he produced his gun from the worn holster at his side, tapping his trigger finger against the side of the firearm in time with the music winding its way down the wide corridors.
As you followed your companion through the shopping mall, you couldn't help but ogle at the numerous attractions you passed. Shops had been boarded up and torn open again, giving you a glimpse of tattered clothes still on hangers, books tipped over on shelves, pre-war machines behind display cases that were covered in two hundred years' worth of dirt and grime. Gang signs and dirty catchphrases had been spraypainted along the walls and windows in a rainbow of colors. In the center of the long aisle you were wandering, a carousel meant for children sat neglected, still fitted with cartoonish horses who had seen better days than these.
"Did you used to come to these often?" you asked as you stepped across a mannequin missing its head.
"Shut the fuck up for a minute." Cooper raised a hand to pair with his little spat, silencing you from asking any further questions. His tongue darted out between his cracked lips as he placed his steps carefully around shattered glass and wind-up toys that would declare your position to the entire mall. He led you around a few wide corners before coming to a stop behind an old escalator, motioning for you to take cover. You crouched to peer around the other side, pulling your bag strap tighter over your shoulder. You were met with a sight that made your lips part in wonder.
Made up in the center of the mall's large atrium, directly beneath where the glass dome had been broken out, a small encampment of people had established what looked like a tiny town. Tents rested just inside nearby shop windows and winking Christmas lights had been strung above their heads. Lanterns cast shadows along the faces of the camp's locals as they milled back and forth, sharing dinners, reading from books - and dancing. Booming from a solar-powered stereo was a symphony of fiddles and guitars, harmonies of trumpets and clapping in time with the beat. A woman's tinny voice came through the speakers and she reminisced about an old lover who had gotten away. As you watched the people dance and stamp their feet along with the music, you found yourself drumming your fingers along, as well.
You were so engrossed in the music that you nearly missed what Cooper had his watchful eye on; the fridge-sized container with several spigots on its sides marked with a large piece of paper that read 'Clean Water.'
You and Cooper ducked back behind the escalator.
"Bunch of fuckin' idiots," said Cooper as he pulled a red-capped round from his bandolier and loaded it into his gun's chamber. "That shit'll attract every goddamn raider and feral within the mile."
"They're just having fun," you said, unsure of why you felt so defensive of these people you didn't even know. Maybe it was because they reminded you of your fellow vault dwellers back home. There had been a dance or performance like this nearly every night.
Cooper scoffed. "Fun like this gets you killed, little lady."
Your eyes widened as you watched him pull back the hammer of his firearm. "You're not going to just go up there and start shooting, are you?" You knew for a fact that he would. You'd seen him do it before - draw his pistol and start spinning the trigger because a raider or flock of ferals had what he wanted. But this - this was something different. Before he could do anything more, you reached out and grabbed his upper arm in a grasp so tight your knuckles paled. He flashed you a dark, dangerous look from beneath the brim of his hat, but you refused to let go. "Cooper, these people are innocent. They haven't done anything to us."
"Listen here, dollface, and listen well," he said, quickly spinning you around so that your back was pressed against the escalator. He caged you in, his gun hand still in your grasp and his other arm propped against the wall beside your head. You tried your damndest to not flush when you felt his breath on you, when his hips came just inches from pressing up against yours. "If we're goin' to be carryin' on this little arrangement, you need to learn to keep that pretty mouth of yours shut when I tell you to shut it. Now, I know you vaulties think everyone and their mama is goin' to repay that silly kindness of yours, but do not be mistaken. Keep yappin' and I will drink my fill of that there water while I make you watch, and then I'll tip the rest of it onto the floor. You hear me?"
You were at a loss for words, your tongue dry and your knees beginning to feel wobbly from the lack of water and proper rest. Just when you were about to let your eyes fall back down and accept that he was going to clear out the settlement for their water, footsteps echoed past where the two of you stood. Cooper snapped around and raised his pistol, his other arm still caging you in, and aimed down the barrel at a few young men approaching the rest of the locals beneath the glass dome. Instead of yelling, instead of dropping their belongings and begging for their lives while they pissed their pants in the presence of a ghoul, the men waved and smiled friendly grins.
"No need to hide," one said, gesturing the pair of you toward the others. "Y'all are welcome to come and make yourselves cozy. The more the merrier!"
They continued on, greeted by the other locals with shouts of welcome backs and fond hugs, paying no mind to the wide eyes and parted lips of you and your companion. Breaking away from Cooper's little cage he had created with himself and the wall - as much as it pained you to - you peeked back around the escalator. The young men pointed your way, and a number of people waved in kind and beckoned you forward. You found yourself taking a few steps toward the inviting sight of fresh water and the smell of food being cooked over one of the fires when Cooper snagged you by the back of your suit's collar and pulled you back into cover.
"Where on this good green earth you think you're goin'?" he said in a hushed tone, bringing your face close to his with a commanding grip on your jaw. Another flutter of excitement, of blood rush, bubbled to life in the pit of your stomach and began to travel south, but you suppressed the urge to lean into his touch. You didn't pull away, either.
"They invited us," you said, your eyes wandering back over to the light flickering from the lanterns and fires. "It's rude to turn down an invitation."
Cooper harrumphed and released you a little harsher than necessary. "What you've got is a one-way ticket to bein' on tomorrow's menu, sweetheart," he said, tilting his head to follow your gaze and keep eye contact when you looked away. "If you've about had your fill of the real world up here topside, then be my guest. Go and let'em fatten you up. I'll pour one out for 'ya tonight."
Deciding not to wonder if he would actually pour one out for you, if you really meant that much, you scoffed and shook your head. "You know it's okay to let your guard down every once in a while. Smile, maybe? Wave back? No wonder you're so damn bitter, old man."
Cooper stared down at you, and you wondered briefly if he was considering slamming your head into the side of the escalator. Would he drag you away with him, you thought? Or would he leave you for the strangers just around the corner. After what seemed an eternity, he hummed a short little note and nodded his head toward the camp. "You want to play friends, little lady? Go ahead. See how far that gets you before I've got to turn around and put one between the eyes of a man who's not lookin' just for the sake of lookin'."
With the faintest hint of a smile, you blinked up at him. "You'd turn around for me?" you asked in a murmur.
He matched your heated gaze, dark eyes intense and flaring a torch in your belly. "I suppose you'll just have to find out one of these days."
Swallowing thick, you took a breath, then turned and led him toward the little encampment of people. Heads turned as the pair of you approached, and you found that most of them smiled. You waved to those who offered little shakes of their hands, trailed by a ghoul stalking in his own shadow and resting the crook of his palm on his pistol. You were met by a kind-faced woman near the large tank of water, and she was forced to speak loudly to be heard over the sound of the thumping music.
"You folks just get in?" she said, already fixing two bowls of stew from a large pot simmering over a fire.
You broke yourself from the staring match you were having with the pot, the same one Cooper was still stuck in. Although, he may have been watching the chickens that roamed inside a little pen nearby as he licked his lips. "Yes, ma'am," you said over the trill of the woman's singing. You so desperately wished you knew the words so you could sing along. "I hope we're not imposing."
"Not at all!" A bowl of stew was pushed into your hands, and you forced yourself to be polite and not spoon it down your throat immediately. At your side, your companion gave the rim of the bowl a lick with the tip of his tongue before tipping it to slurp up. "We pride ourselves in being an open community. We might be small, but that just means there's more to share." The tin cups of water she handed over didn't last but five seconds before she was refilling them. "Make yourselves comfortable and stay however long you like. All we ask is that you keep your weapons holstered and don't disturb the music."
You and Cooper took seats at a dining table that had been dragged over from the cafeteria, neither of you speaking much as you both wolfed down what was in the bowls in front of you. Both of your spoons went untouched, each electing instead to drink up the strangely-colored meat floating around inside. Cooper finished much faster than you, and shucked off his gloves so that he could dip his scarred finger in to collect what juices were left. When he was finished, the bowl looked as though it hadn't even been used.
Watching him with a small smile, you let up from your own bowl and said, "I'm waiting."
"For what, exactly, little lady?"
"Your apology." You lapped up the rest of your stew before politely setting your bowl inside of his. "You wanted to -" You hesitated and glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one was too close to hear you. "You know." Then you settled a rather self-satisfied smirk over your features. "And look where we are now. So I'd like my apology now."
Cooper sucked on his finger, ensuring he was getting every last morsel of the stew that he could, and your attention was pulled down to where his lips wrapped around his digit. A part of you began to imagine it was yours. He noticed you staring and grinned wide. "And you know what I'm waitin' for, darlin'?"
"What?"
"For you to walk yourself over there and get me seconds."
You rolled your eyes, but nevertheless grabbed your stacked bowls and began to make your way over to where the woman was tending to the pot. "You'd better be thinking about your apology," you called over your shoulder. When you turned back around you nearly collided into someone retreating back to their spot with their own dinner. You jerked to the side, attempting to get out of their way first, and in doing so rammed yourself into the stereo set on a table in the center of the little camp. You watched in horror, bowls clasped to your chest, as the stereo tumbled over the edge of its pedestal and fell to the floor, where it shattered into what must have been hundreds of pieces. The camp became shrouded in a tense, shocked silence as every eye in the mall turned to face you and look upon your sin.
"I..." Your voice carried through the atrium and down the corridors of the shopping mall, sounding like an isolated cry for help. "I'm so sorry. I - I didn't mean to, I really didn't. Here, I might be able to fix it." You bent down to try and gather the pieces with your free hand, and the moment you did, a number of the camp locals drew weapons to aim in your direction.
"Now," came that familiar drawl behind you as you heard a hammer lock into place. "Are we really goin' to be killin' each other over some silly radio?" asked Cooper, and you felt some of your nerves ease slightly when you felt his chest press against your back.
A man to your right hissed. "You killed him!"
You shook your head viciously. "No, no! I - I didn't kill anyone. I'm sorry, I really am."
"You killed Sterry!" a woman accused.
"Sterry?" You looked down at the broken stereo and began to scoop up the bigger pieces you could find. "I - I can fix Sterry, I swear -"
"There's no fixing Sterry," moaned the woman who had served you stew as she sunk into the closest bench, looking as though she were about to faint. "He's dead. And you've killed us all."
You glanced back at Cooper, who wielded both his pistols now, each pointed in a different direction toward locals who had drawn their weapons. He offered a shrouded look that screamed, 'Now, didn't I tell you so, sweetheart?' You took a shuddering breath and faced the woman who had served you. "What do you mean?" you asked.
The woman placed her head in her hand as if she'd already accepted her fate. It was a daunting sight, the face of a woman so cheery and joyful such a short time ago, now deflated as though someone had let out all her air. "This place," she said, gesturing vaguely to the mall around you. "It's infested." The word was so heavy you felt as though you nearly choked on it. "Infested with creatures that will tear us limb from limb now that you've ruined everything. The music! The music was what kept them away, and now that it's gone..."
As if on cue, from the darkness of one of the long-winding corridors straight ahead, there came the bone-rattling sound of a feral hissing and snapping its weathered jaw. A few of the locals scrambled back as the creature emerged from the inky blackness, arms twisted and eyes sunken so far back into its skull they looked like they were forever pointed toward the sky. It took a rushed few steps forward before Cooper's arm rotated and he put a hole between its eyes. The feral dropped to the floor, leaking dark blood that stained the tile floor.
"Stop being so dramatic, Uma," said an older gentleman who stooped at your feet to begin gathering the pieces of Sterry. You immediately dropped to your knees to help. "We've fixed Sterry before, and we'll fix him again. It won't take long. But while we do, we'll need something to drive those creatures off..."
Your stomach dropped when, as you stood to hand over the pieces of the stereo, you felt Cooper's hands - still fitted with his pistols - rest heavily on your shoulders. "Well, then, y'all folks are in luck," he drawled, and you could practically hear the smirk playing his lips as he spoke. "I've got my very own songbird right here. I'd be happy to lend her to 'ya if, say... you filled our flasks from that there tank when the time comes for us to leave."
"Cooper," you hissed through your teeth as you spun around to face him. Singing for your vault was one thing, but singing for a bunch of strangers in the middle of an infested mall while ferals stumbled from the darkness all around you? He may as well have tossed you back out into the wastes. "You are not going to fucking trade me -"
"Done," said the old man as he sat down and began to sort Sterry's pieces. "Have your girl start singing - anything her heart desires. Just long enough for me to fix old Sterry here."
Giving the man a mock salute that didn't quite raise to his brow, Cooper shoved you onto a bench so that you stood over the rest of the camp. From this angle, they were all able to see your petrified expression and your hands shaking at your sides. "You heard the man," your companion said and smacked the back of your knee. "Get to it, songbird."
"Cooper, I can't -"
Before you were able to finish, Cooper turned, his ears pricking at something yours did not pick up, and dropped another feral that had been silently stalking the camp from the other side. A few of the locals yelped in terror, fleeing into shopfronts and tents.
"Sing for me, sweetheart," Cooper said. He sent you a wink, tipped his hat, then unleashed another round of lead into the darkness which only his eyes could penetrate.
You felt as if you were going to vomit. Sweat began to form on the back of your neck as you fisted your hands and swayed slightly where you stood on the bench. Turning your head, you met the eyes of a few camp locals watching you from their hideouts, their expressions filled with fear, anger, anticipation. They were waiting. Expecting. Needing. Attempting to push down the swelling that was beginning to form in your throat, you looked down at Cooper as he emptied his pistols of empty shells before reloading in order to fend off the ferals attacking the camp - the very camp he'd wanted to take out not half an hour ago.
He'd told you to sing for him. So you'd sing. For him, and only him.
Clearing your mouth and opening your lips, you took a breath and forced yourself to sing. "Death will come from where the earth meets the sky." Your voice wobbled slightly, rusty from having not singing since you left your vault. That, along with the fear and dehydration sitting on your tongue. "The sand is scorched beneath his step, the future decided by his eye." As you sang, the miniature explosions banging from the barrels of Cooper's pistols created a short, quick beat you unconsciously began to tap your foot along to. "He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."
Ferals shrieked in response to the gunfire, to the song torn right from your notebook in your pack, and one by one, like stage performers who had practiced this dance a hundred times, they dropped at the feet of the camp.
"Death's got a girl who croons his songs, which is why he never stays for long. He's got to run back to his lady, just as harsh as he, he's coming for you, but he's running back to me." As you sang you realized your voice was getting louder, louder, swelling until it filled the mall's atrium and every corridor far beyond. You tapped your heel along with the rhythm you'd created, closing your eyes and imagining an audience of one; a ghoul with his arms slung out across the chairs beside him and a knowing smirk playing his thin lips. It pulled you forward, pulled forth a song you hadn't realized was already in you. "He might sound mean, but I swear, he's kind. He's just got to peer into these eyes of mine. I'll ride with him, and he'll follow me, leaving behind a trail of blood far as the eye can see. Oh, my baby's got teeth to bite and a gun to blow, see his smoke and soon you'll know. Death ain't my man, he's my right hand. He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."
You had just been nearing a second verse when, from where it rested before the old man on the table, the stereo jumped back to life and filled the atrium with thrumming, pulsing folk music. It drowned out your voice, silenced you like a gunshot, and the ferals teetering on the edge of the darkness leading to the rest of the mall stumbled back into their hiding places. The camp locals slowly emerged from their hiding places, chattering excitedly about Sterry and his newfound love of life. Feeling a little stupid still standing on the bench, you climbed down and shuffled away toward where you had been originally sitting.
Taking a seat, you rested your forehead on your arms and exhaled a shaky breath. What had you been thinking? Singing a song for the man you'd become hopelessly fascinated with while he was just a few feet away, battling ferals who were intent on tearing out your throat and taking your voice with it? You were such a fucking idiot. You wouldn't be surprised if he told you to never open your mouth again.
Just as promised, your flasks were filled to the brims with fresh water before you went on your way, leaving the mall atrium and the singing, dancing camp locals behind as you picked your way back outside. Neither you nor Cooper said much as you continued your trek to nowhere, leaving a pair of footprints like echoes in your wake. Your cheeks remained flushed long after the mall had disappeared into the horizon, and long after you picked out an abandoned building to set up camp for the night. For once, it wasn't from the heat.
You sat across the lantern and what light it cast from Cooper, who stared into the little beacon as if he were watching the most fascinating flick within its glass. You held your notebook in your lap, thumb marking your place as your tried to write, but nothing would come to mind save for the things you'd sung about today. Mortification stirred like a serpent in your belly, and you briefly considered excusing yourself to get up and throw up outside.
"Let me see that book you've got there."
Your head lifted at Cooper's request - more of a demand - and unconsciously tightened your grip around your notebook. Your notebook - full of songs, melodies, lyrics. The most recent half of which you had written about the ghoul staring at you. "This?" you said, your trembling voice giving way to your nerves. You forced out a chuckle and smacked it shut. "It's nothing worth looking at."
"Why not?" he said, voice rasping lower than the baritone he usually held it at. You swore his gaze was hotter than the sun during the day and the fires at night. "You got more songs 'bout little old me in there?"
Fuck, he knew. Fuck all, he knew. You felt your flush deepen as you pointedly tucked your notebook into the bottom of your pack and flipped the top shut. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," you said, avoiding his eyes. Instead you focused on the fraying tip of your boot. "I wrote that a long time ago. Back in my vault."
"Uh huh." Cooper stared you down for so long you thought that perhaps time had frozen. Then he took a barely-there breath. "Come over here, songbird. Let me get a good look at you."
For a long, long moment, you remained still as you ever had been. What was he saying? Normally the only time he let you close to him was when he invaded your personal space to deliver a shove or to smack your knee or thigh to tell you to get a move on. Your breath hitched when you finally lifted your head and found his gaze boring into yours, heavier than a ton and white hot like a branding iron.
"I ain't goin' to tell you again, pretty girl."
As if he had you on a fucking leash - because you swore he did - you found yourself pitching forward, crawling on your hands and knees toward him. He spread his legs slightly, enough to give you room to fit between them, and hesitantly, so very carefully, you rested yourself against his front. His rough, scarred hands, free of his gloves, came up to rest on the swell of your hips as if they were made to be there, fitting like puzzle pieces against your skin beneath your vault suit. You stared up at him, backlit by the lantern light, and let his thumb drag down your bottom lip until it slipped from his touch.
"Didn't think my songbird had such desire in her," Cooper chuckled, his warm breath fanning across your face.
You relished in the goosebumps that crawled over the planes of your skin. "I... I don't..."
"Oh, you'd be dead wrong if you said that little ditty you sang today wasn't all about desire." He settled back deeper where he sat, giving you more room to settle against him between the columns of his thighs. Your lower belly rested against his crotch, where you felt the hard outline of his cock straining against his trousers. Your heart skipped a beat or three. "If you wanted to ride with death, sweetheart, all you needed to do was ask."
Cooper sealed his lips to yours without word or warning, pulling a surprised little noise from the back of your throat that he swallowed up with fervor. As the initial shock faded, you found your eyes slipping shut and your mouth moving against his, lips opening without fight when his tongue demanded to explore your own. Bracing yourself with one hand against his thigh, you reached up with your other and cradled the back of his head, knocking off his hat in the process.
Swift to get a move on, to feel you against him and swallow up more of your sounds, Cooper easily flipped you around so that you were now lying flat on your back and he was hovering over your prone form. Both tingling excitement and nauseating nerves pulled groans from your lips as he moved to pressing harsh kisses and nips to the column of your neck, licking up red spots that would surely bruise come morning time. He shucked off his duster and abandoned it somewhere behind him, at the same time, by some skill you had no idea anyone possessed, also grasping at the zipper of your vault suit to pull it down as far as it would go.
It didn't take long for you to shimmy out of the suit, leaving you in just your underwear, the seams of which he traced with his calloused finger. It sent a chill running up your spine despite the heat prodding at your skin.
"My songbird sounds real pretty when she's singin'," Cooper muttered as he sucked a bruise into the swell of one breast over the cup of your bra. "I bet she sounds even better screamin' for me."
His hand plunged beneath the waistband of your panties and began to explore your folds, pulling a long, whining moan from your lips. He ate you and your whimpers up, devouring your lips like he wanted to eat you whole - maybe he did - while his middle finger ran up and down your cunt a few times before deftly finding your clit and applying a bit of pressure to the sensitive bud. You cried out. It had been far too long since you'd seen any real action. It didn't take long before your folds were soaked, and he was able to gingerly nudge his finger past the entrance of your pussy. It felt foreign to have another person thrusting their finger in and out of you, building you up to a kind of high you hadn't known since far before you left your vault. In less than a few minutes - something he would surely tease you about later - you felt that familiar coil snap in your stomach and you soaked his hand with a loud, throat-rattling wail that escaped your lips and flew right past his.
Cooper pulled back with a self-satisfied smirk and pulled his hand from your panties, lifting his spread hand to show you to slick you'd coated his digits with. You were only able to huff for breath and watch with hooded eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth and used his skillful tongue to lick off your cum. You briefly wondered what else that tongue of his could do, what it would feel like to have him lap up your pussy like it was the only thing to guarantee him his daily hit of medicine.
"Sweet as honey, baby," he cooed, bracing himself with one hand while the other worked on the buckle of his belt. "Well. Maybe Tennessee honey. You ever had a taste of that?" He knew you hadn't. But that didn't stop his smirk from growing in size when you numbly shook your head. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, baby. We'll get you a lick one day. 'Til then..."
Your limbs dancing with pins and needles, you lifted your hips to help him tug off your panties. "I'll just have to settle for what I've got," you exhaled with a hazy smile.
Cooper grinned wide, a smile that bordered on the edge of dark, as he tugged down his trousers just enough for his cock to spring free. He was thick - larger than you'd expected - and his member was rough and scarred like the rest of him. It made you want to feel him all the more. "I'll promise you somethin', darlin," he said as he positioned himself at your entrance and you locked your legs around his waist, heels digging into the edge of his gun belt. "I'm better than anything else you'll taste these days." With that he slid into you, filling you at once to the brim like he just couldn't wait to feel you from the inside. A loud, sharp yelp escaped your lips as your back arched instinctively, curling yourself up into him. He only waited a few moments for you to adjust before he started moving, pulling himself out to the tip before thrusting back inside your welcoming cunt. You were able to feel each and every ridge of him, every scar, and you swore you were getting drunk from just the feeling.
"Fuckin' shit, girl," he groaned, moving to press the flat of his hand to the base of your neck so that he could keep you in place while he fucked you. "Better than I could've fuckin' dreamed."
Cooper's thrusts began to increase in speed, your moans and whimpers accompanied by his low, almost growling snarls he panted against the shell of your ear. You couldn't believe this was happening. You were being fucked by the ghoul you'd been following all these months, the ghoul you'd been watching and studying and falling hopelessly for. And it felt good. It felt so fucking good, a part of you wasn't entirely convinced this entire scenario wasn't a dream concocted by the recesses of your mind.
"God, Coop," you heard yourself moan as your nails dug crescent moons into the fabric of his shirt. "Feels so fucking good..."
"Atta girl," he muttered, moving his head down so that he could suck at the junction where your neck met your shoulder. "Such a sweet little songbird." His grip on your hips tightened as his movements increased even further. "Might just have to fuck you good every night so I can hear you sing for me."
You panted deep as you felt your second orgasm of the night approaching at an alarming rate. Your hips bucked up to meet his with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin filling the abandoned building in which you had taken shelter. "Don't have to - ah! - even ask. I'll sing for you any time, Coop."
Cooper's breaths came shorter, sharper, and it wasn't long before he came with a harsh bite against your shoulder, one that spilled blood into his awaiting mouth and pulled your own orgasm from deep within your depths. You shuddered and cried for him, tugging him close and holding him there for several minutes after your highs had faded and your breaths evened.
Finally, he pulled himself off of you. A short whine escaped you when he slipped from your heat, and he chuckled low before tossing you your panties to slip back on. When you were both covered again, you sat up and crossed your legs as you basked in the afterglow of what had just taken place. Cooper dug around in his saddlebag for a moment before producing his inhaler and drinking up a shot of his medicine, shaking his head against the sudden buzz that came with it as he sat back on his elbows and stared at the lantern light.
"I..." You struggled to find the words so desperately clawing at your chest. "I hope you don't..."
Cooper reached up and pulled your wrist out from under you, causing you to fall back on the ground beside him with an 'umph.' He let his arm cushion your fall before sweeping a few strands of hair from your face and giving you that crooked smirk which made your legs fall numb all over again. "Oh, don't you worry yourself, songbird," he said. "I ain't lettin' you fly away from me any time soon."
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finniestoncrane · 14 days
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Ain't So Bad
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.1k i want this man to do horrible things to me, i want him to tell me he'll make sure i'm ok when i know full well he's the most dangerous thing around, he's driving me INSANE anyway i'll have a softer thing for him soon!! 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: dubcon/noncon, restraints, use of 'no' but reader is quick to do as told, restraints, slight threat, gun mention, hair pulling
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The sun had thankfully almost set, the long shadows cast by it a welcome relief, though it did mean that night was coming, along with the threats that were its constant companion. But you always assumed you were safe, travelling with your own companion. Especially when that companion was Cooper Howard. Charming, despite his foul attitude that put most people off. Handsome, at least to you, and much to the disappointment of the more ‘reserved’ folks you came across out in the wasteland. And you felt lucky, most of the time, to consider him yours. But you suspected that, while he kept the danger away, that there was a reason for that.
Even predators had something they were afraid of. There was always a greater evil.
And as the darkness fell, his silhouette lit only by the small fire in the corner of the roofless room, you began to realise that Cooper was a lot more dangerous than you had let yourself come to terms with.
“Cooper, wait… we’re not safe enough, I don’t…”
You trailed off, aware that your words were falling on deaf ears as Cooper dragged his dry lips across your cheek, grazing his teeth against the skin as you felt him pushing you backwards, your spine straightening against the crumbling wall behind you.
“It ain’t so bad out here… certainly won’t be when you see what I’ve got in store for you.”
“Please, Cooper… no, Coop, I can’t-”
Interrupted by your own sharp inhale, you held the breath as you watched Cooper’s eyes settled on yours, your hands above you head against the wall, his hands tight around your wrists, preventing you from holding him back any further.
“I’m here to keep you safe, darlin’. You’ll be fine.”
His words meant very little against what you knew was lurking out there, and your nerves pushed your protests out of your clamping throat.
“But Cooper, you know I get scared… I don’t want to do this, not here.”
“Well too bad, missy…”
He lifted your hands and slammed them back down again, watching as you winced at the dull pain.
“… it ain’t like there’s a nice place I can take a girl like you for something like this…”
Cooper’s grip loosened, one of his hands leaving yours as he fumbled with the belt on his pants. You could have easily pulled away, but you didn’t. You couldn’t be sure why, and you chose not to linger on that thought, luckily distracted from it as Cooper’s unbuckled belt clanged, his eyes back towards you.
“…Now, are you going to be a good girl and take it?”
The free hand now drifted to his hip, pushing back his long coat, his palm lazily resting on the holstered gun by his side before he continued speaking. Slowly, clearly, in a low, guttural tone.
“Or am I gonna have to be a bad man and take. It.”
His stare penetrated you, like he could see through your skull to the wall you were trapped against. Your chest seemed to stay completely still despite the deep breaths you took. When you tried to speak, your tongue stayed flat, your lips trembling, nothing but a squeak of air managing to pass between you.
“I asked you a question.”
All you offered was a stuttered mumble and a sheepish nod of your head, a smile offered to you by Cooper as he kicked your legs apart with his muddy boot. Two gloved fingers teased at the front of your pants, pulling them away from skin before sinking below the waistband and brushing against your thickened lips. Excitement, adrenaline, fear. All of it passed over you in a heartbeat, your heart fluttering as he removed his hands from you. Bringing the fingers to his lips, he bit down on the leather with his yellowed teeth, tearing off the glove and tossing it to the ground. His fingers were back down quickly, spreading apart your folds. His uncovered fingers delved inside of you, only briefly, before he withdrew that small modicum of pleasure from the otherwise intense and nerve-wracking situation.
As he separated himself from you, your back arched involuntarily away from the wall, your body betraying your protests as you ached for more of his touch.
“My, my… you sure were fussing a lot for someone who is clearly enjoying themselves…”
Bringing his two fingers up, he spread them apart, watching carefully as your slick stretched in long strands between them.
“Bend over.”
“Cooper, wait, please, I-”
Gripping your waist, Cooper knocked you off balance and let you fall to the floor, a cloud of dust rising up around you.
“I done enough waitin’, darlin’.”
As you struggled to get onto all fours, you felt yourself knocked once more, cheek slamming to the ground as your arms were pulled up behind your back. You could feel the rope tightening around your skin, your wrists bound together and stuck against your spine.
“Now listen, you just lie there…”
He leaned down, whispering into your ear, his hot breath tingling you, making the hairs rise on the back of your neck.
“… and try to keep quiet.”
Behind you, Cooper fell to his knees, pulling down his own pants before turning his attention to yours, uncovering just enough of you that he knew he could slip himself between your thighs and into your wet, warm cunt without leaving either of you too vulnerable to any surprise guests.
Once his other glove was off, you could feel his palm sliding up your back, cracked nails scratching at the nape of your neck before his fingers gripped your hair. Your back contorted as he lifted your face from the ground, positioning you perfectly for his curved cock, lubed with his own drool which he let drip down from his lips in a long, lewd strand, to slide inside of you with little mercy. He pounded into you once, setting the tone for the rest of the encounter you had to endure.
But he hadn’t lied.
“Just a little longer, darlin’, we’ll have you back on two legs… just hng gimme… ah… fuck, that’s it…”
His brutal pace, the way he was so desperately trying to get to the conclusion, the relief, the pain of the stretch, the heat in your own chest that made you moan in response to the way his cock pulsed within your walls.
But he was true to his word.
Because while one hand was tugging at the hair, fingernails scratching your scalp, his hips bucking into your body, knocking you forward and into the ground, his other hand clutched the shotgun, finger teasing the trigger, tempted to send shots into the air at his climax, but ready to defend you both against anyone, or anything, that threatened to interrupt him.
“See, darlin’… not so bad after all.”
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bisexualiteaa · 5 days
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actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want
A Flame in Your Heart
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Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)
CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader
AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️
Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.
“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.
“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.
Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.
“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.
Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.
He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.
When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.
When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?
“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.
“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.
Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.
Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.
In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.
As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.
“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.
It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.
“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.
By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.
It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.
“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.
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eupheme · 9 days
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— on the fence [into the fire, part ii]
part i | masterlist
cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 3.8k
tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, restraints, sex for favors, oral (m), exhibitionism, spanking, biting, hair pulling, light choking, sub/dom elements, PiV, radiated creampie
a/n: hi! I had a couple ideas I wanted to explore, which turned into a mini-series. I have them all mapped out & I hope to have them up for you soon! 💖
“Why don’t you show me again,” He husks, “What you’re so good at.”
Your breath catches - eyes flicking warily towards the door, but he’s quick to call you back.
“Hey, now. Eyes over here.” The Ghoul snaps, “You need to worry ‘bout me more than anyone out there.”
(Or - the Ghoul gets you out of your Vault Suit.)
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You’re not sure you like the look of this town.
It sprawls wide and low across the desert, the inhabitants gathering in the shadows to escape glare of the sun. A low buzzing murmur that carries with you through the streets.
It feels suffocating, after the open miles before.
Following the dark figure of Ghoul, as you wind through the streets. Partly because you have to - that leash still pulled tight, wrapped around a fist.
Partly because you want to stick close, always.
“-don’t need you slowing me down.” The Ghoul gives the rope a yank, and you scowl, “You get hurt doing some stupid shit, and I’m leavin’ you behind.”
Your frown softens. His words still just as harsh, snarled out. But they’re a far cry from before.
Before, when you were certain he was going to hand you right back over to your Vault, in spite of how far you’ve come. Something significant passing in the journey through the desert, as he had taken what you wanted.
The taste of him has since faded, but he still lingers.
“Gotta earn your keep, too.” His head turns, eyeing you from beneath the brim of hat, “You good at anythin’?”
Unable to help it, you smirk - a brow raising. He scoffs in response, eyes narrowing.
“Anyone can be good at suckin’ cock, sweetheart.” He drawls, unimpressed, “’m not so bad at it, myself.”
Your lips part in surprise and he’s the one that grins, now.
The Ghoul picks up another bounty here. A shady, alley-way deal - keeping you close to his heels as he snatches the faded paper contact off a tattered board.
Running into another pair looking for jobs - a fresh scar splitting across the nose of a man who tries to start a conversation, before quickly retreating.
“Fuckin’ amateurs” muttered in reply to your heavy, silent judgement.
The client is tracked down for more information, after. Wasn’t hard to find the man with cage over the lower half of his face. Spikes that scream Raider with the way they jut through his clothes.
Fifty caps for the “goddamn no-good thief” that wiped out his stall in the night, taking every last bullet and can of cram. Last seen about two days ago, heading north.
Dead or alive, the client doesn’t care.
“Did you see ‘em?” The Ghoul frowns, “What they look like? Give me somethin’ to go off of.”
“Course I did,” The man huffs, “Looks just like me, don’t he? He’s my own damn brother.”
You can’t contain your own sideways look in disbelief, only to see The Ghoul returning it.
He bargains for a hundred, and gets it.
It’s hard not to wonder if he had taken your bounty this way. If your face had been scrawled across a piece of paper. Exchanged in a no-nonsense, disconnected way.
How much had your life been worth?
You never asked him. It’s something you’re not sure you even want to know.
The rest of the afternoon is spent stocking up. Caps exchanged for some more ammo. A couple bottles of watery chems, shoved deep in his bag to join the others.
A way the ease the cough that rattles him every few days. The smallest bottle kept out, wrenched open with a tight fist.
It snags at you - the way he swallows it like ambrosia the second he steps away. Gasping and groaning as if it’s air he needs to breathe.
“I’m good at medicine,” You tell his back - following again. Memories of the Vault pushing their way to the surface, “Could make that for you, if we find the stuff. Wouldn’t have to dilute it.”  You almost run into him, with the way he’s gone still. The tilt of his head, a single sharp eye piercing through you under the brim of a hat.
Shifting over your shoulder. Narrowing.
His hand fists in the collar of your jumpsuit instead, hauling you down the nearest alley and into the shadows.
“Hey!” You protest, your back knocked against the wall. He cages you in, knuckles pressing into your jaw with his tight grip.
The vial is pinched between his fingers, dangled in front of your face.
“You can make this?” He confirms.
You’re able to confirm it now, never quite getting a good look before. RadAway. It would be simple, compared to some of the stuff you’d had to cook up.
“Get me to a lab, some supplies,” You nod, “And I will.”
“Huh.” He’s close - you can’t help squirming in his grip, as he considers you, “Ain’t that something.”
A second, before his grip eases - but he doesn’t let go. Your bound fists rest against his chest, but there’s no force behind them to drive him off.
“Could’ve just asked.” You huff, “You don’t have to man-handle me.”
He almost smiles - his voice coming low, with a tilt of his head.
“Don’t I?”
It flusters you, how his body presses against yours. Your heartbeat kicking up a notch, your chest brushing his with each short breath.
His thumb sweeps, ghosting against your skin. Those sunken eyes dropping to your collar, with a frown.
Another glance down the aisle, before they’re dragging over you - voice lowering.
“Need to get you out of this suit.”
His words make stiffen in his arms, a sharp inhale of anticipation.
“Not so smart, are you?” He husks, his gaze dragging from your parted lips, up to your eyes, “Runnin’ around like this. Downright advertising you’re a Vaultie, when someone’s lookin’ for you.”
He’s not wrong. He tracked you down easily enough. You nod is small, a pang of regret as his fingers drop - as he steps away.
“Come on, then. I know a place.”
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The place is an old saloon, the windows blasted out over two centuries ago. The gutted insides filled out with a patched-up bar, the mended tables and scattered chairs filled with patrons. Rooms to rent lining the first - and second floor - if you were brave enough to risk the staircase.
A few stalls set up alongside a wall - a barber ran by a Mister Handy with a looping stutter, the second by another Ghoul. Her few racks are filled with a patchwork of fabric, all in stained and faded patterns.
He gestures, a tilt of his head at the racks, “Pick something out, quick like.”
You’d gape at him, if you weren’t afraid he’d change his mind. Serious about your suit - you’re quick to grab a shirt in your size with only two holes. A pair of trousers, a rip at the knee.
“This ain’t for you.” The Ghoul clarifies darkly in your ear, “This is a trigger-happy town. Don’t need to be wasting my bullets.”
You hum in agreement - undeterred by his tone. The package clutched to your chest as he hands over a couple caps. Stuck over a full two weeks now in the same suit - you’re itching for the soft cotton against the skin.
Turning to leave, but then you’re halting. A couple of the patrons look familiar, hovering just inside the door. Something about that scar-
You’re trying to recall, in the crowd of people you’ve seen today - when a hand clamps down on your shoulder. Wheeling you around as the Ghoul turns to the shop owner.
“You got a room she can borrow?” There’s a change in his tone, almost a sticky-sweet edge to his drawl.
It must work - you’re shown to what used to be an old parlor room. An array of broken chairs, a heavy wooden table. The wallpaper torn and faded, the shades of cream long stained a dull, dirty yellow.
He fills the doorway - an arm propped against the frame, and you hold your wrists out to him dutifully.
You’ve worked at the knots before, to no avail - only to scowl now, as he undoes them easily with one hand.
A moment of silence hanging then, as you give him a pointed look - rubbing at sore wrists.
“You gonna leave so I can change?” You ask, “I’ll just be a second.”
The Ghoul steps forward instead, pulling the door shut behind him. An audible click, as he thumbs at the lock.
“Oh, I don’t think so, darlin’.”
A heat flares to life in your cheeks, “You’re staying?”
“That’s right,” He sinks into an old loveseat, propped up on concrete blocks near the boarded-up window, “Can’t leave you alone in a place like this. Fuckin’ vultures would swoop right in.”
You hesitate, watching him warily as an arm slings across the back, legs stretched out against the floor. If you didn’t know better then you think it was something almost akin to concern in his tone.
Or then again - he might just want to keep your bounty to himself. You had hoped you were past that, but-
“What?” His tongue pokes at his cheek, tone taunting, “Gettin’ shy again?”
The clothes are dropped unceremoniously on the table, your Pip-Boy following. A glare, as you reach for the zipper of your Vault Suit, starting to yank it down.
“Hey, now.” His hand raises, “Slowly. Got it?”
There’s an immediate urge to resist, to test him - but then, you’re catching the look on his face.
It’s hungry, beneath the brim of his hat. You start to feel like you did in the desert, and then the alley - intrigue, and desire, and an ache from his words, all melding together.
So, you take it slow. The zipper slipping from your throat, to breasts, then belly. A roll of your shoulders as you slip your arms from the tight sleeves.
His eyes follow, lingering on each inch of bare skin that’s revealed.
“Turn around.” He growls when you reach your hips, and for him - you do.
Bending at the waist as you unlace your boots and step out of them. Back arched as you wiggle, pushing the suit down past your knees. Down soft legs that part, so you can step out of them.
A glance over your shoulder, then. His head tilts, eyes sweeping from your ankles to fix on the crux of your thighs. They press together on their own, a thrill at being on display for him.
He catches you looking, his hand lazy as it drops to his lap. A lift of his hips as he adjusts, palming himself. The other hand leaving the revolver shotgun that rests on the cushion next to him.
Crooking two fingers at you, silently beckoning you over.
You fit between thighs that inch wider. His hands curl on his lap, before he’s slowly peeling his gloves off. Warm, against your hips, biting into your skin.
“Don’t make ‘em like you above ground anymore,” He idly comments, a flatness to his tone that betrays nothing.
Soft and smooth skin. You wonder if he’s thinking about ruining it - sinking his teeth in and taking a bite. Leaving a mark that you’ll carry.
You think you’d let him.
His grip dents your skin, before his hands are dropping. A heated look thrown your way, as his face tips up to yours.
“Why don’t you show me again,” He husks, “What you’re so good at.”
Your breath catches - eyes flicking warily towards the door, but he’s quick to call you back.
“Hey, now. Eyes over here.” The Ghoul snaps, “You need to worry ‘bout me more than anyone out there.”
It sends a heat rushing through you, knowing that he’s right. You’re locked in a room with the most dangerous man in the city, and it does something to you.
A boldness, in the way you reach behind. His growled out “fuck” when you let bra loosens - joining the blue and yellow suit on the floor.
The wood is rough under your knees. Letting your hands wander, lifting his hips while your work open his belt. Drawing down the rusted zipper.
You grasp at his hips, tugging the faded fabric until he’s free. Fingers tracing over thighs, just as rough and reddened at the rest of him. It’s still not much, but it’s more of him than you’ve ever seen.
Bare beneath the stained pants, cock already thick and full where it curves against his hip. All from just watching you - perhaps a strange thing to be proud of, but fuck, you are.
Your hands curl around his knees, as your head dips. Taking more time than you did before. Lips pressing against the taut base, as a hand twists in your hair again.
“Come on and thank me, sweetheart.” He growls - urging you upward, “Gettin’ those clothes for you. Make it worth my while.”
It’s different this time. A familiarity in the way your tongue presses against the flushed head. The taste of the salt on your tongue, before your lips are part around him.
A soft groan, when he’s filling your mouth again. You’ve thought about it often since last time. Wondering when he would have you on your knees again. If he’d want more, the next.
Your heartbeat thuds between your thighs, with the shift of his hips into your mouth - chasing his pleasure.
An urge to make him feel good. Without thinking - your hand wraps around his shaft, as your head eases back.
“Easy, now.” He grits, though his eyes are fixed on how your fingers curl around him. How it pumps, squeezing him with spit-slick fingers.
Jerking him into a mouth that parts so prettily for him. Your other hand slipping against his thigh, with feather-light brushes. A short inhale before you take him deep again, your fist sliding down to the base.
The next time you pull him from mouth for a breath, drool stringing from his cock to your lips, he hears himself growling out, “Stop.”
You’re being too tender, and he finds that he can’t stand it. Should have kept you bound, like last time.
The Ghoul’s fingers bite into your chin, your mouth glossy from how you swallowed him down.
“I’m taking you this time. Know you’ve been just aching for it.” He husks, his thumb pressing against your lip. Watching your tongue peek out to taste it, “Go on. Get up, and get your ass over to that table.”
Your desire nearly eclipses everything else. Pushing on his thighs for support, crossing the three steps to the side of the table.
“No,” He follows - the gun clattering on the table top, brought over from the couch. His hands at your hips, guiding you until you’re facing the door, “Right here, sweetheart. I’ll be keepin’ watch.”
It has you remembering where you are - that you’re just supposed to be getting changed. Wondering if you should worry that you don’t care - the thought of piping up, having the risk of losing this chance and denying pleasure again has you quickly adapting.
A hand presses at the small of your back insistently, bending you over it. You can feel him against the curve of your ass, sticky against your skin.
“Cross your wrists,” His thighs shift against yours, as you fix your hands that has flattened against the tabletop.
Making it easy for him to grasp at them with one hand - stretching them further, pressing them against the wood as he kicks your thighs further apart.
Leaving you on tip-toe, arched against him.
“Look at you, listening.” He almost coos, with another lazy rock. His cock shifts, fitting between your thighs, nudging against you.
“I think-” You start, but it’s punctuated by a moan, “Think you just like tying girls up.”
“Now you’re gettin’ it,” He drawls, “Though I don’t discriminate. Theres just something ‘bout havin’ you like this-”
The Ghoul leans over you then, his grip tightening. Pinning you firmly between him and the table, unable to do more than squirm as his free hand slips between your thighs, cupping you.
It’s the first time he’s touched you like this, and your muscles string tight - trying not to buck into his palm. Against fingers that rub against your clit, pressing the sticky fabric to your skin.
“Fuck.” He rasps in your ear. Nails bite into your hips, as he tears the fabric down to your thighs.
Coming back to press against your bare cunt, fingers slipping against your folds. You’re unable to help the soft whimper as he parts you, two fingers teasing at your entrance.
“Please,” You whine, as he pets against you. Smearing your slick up to your clit again, his fingers parting just as he reaches it.
His cock presses against your leg, thick and stiff. A roll of his hips until it’s pressed snug against your cunt - jutting between your thighs just below his hand.
“Your pussy is downright leakin for me, sweetheart,” He growls, “You need it that bad?”
You whine, your head turning to look - watching how he arcs over you. That blown-wide look in his eyes again, as you nod.
There’s a split second as his hand leaves you, before it’s cracking down on the meat of your ass. You gasp in shock as you go still beneath him, the pain unexpected and swirling with your heady need.
“Say it out loud,” He barks out, “Tell me just how much.”
Your skin stings, his fingers twitch before he kneads roughly at the flesh - the burn of it akin to way you ache for him.
“I need it,” You keen, “Need your cock. Want you to fuck me-”
The words cut off - a rough hum of approval before he’s lining himself up, a hand curving to grip your hip. The other flexes around your wrist, before he’s driving himself deep with a single, powerful thrust.
Your cry is loud, this time. Low and rough, pushed from your lungs as your pussy makes room for him.
“Fucking christ, you’re tight,” He grunts, unable to help the shallow buck of his hips, “Better than my goddamn dreams.”
It makes you moan - the gritted-out admission not lost on you.
Even with how wet you are, you still feel like you’re stretched wide. An ache radiating through you, sparking to life as he inches out, only to plunge deep again. The table bites into your hips, back arching as he sets a rough rhythm.
The sharp twinge starting to fade, as you begin to accommodate him. Growing accustomed to the heavy weight of him inside you, the steady stroke against your walls that has you starting to clench down around him.
Your breathing grows shorter, faster. Face turning to bury in the curve of your shoulder, muffling the moans that are pushed from you - until his hand is leaving your hip, twisting in your hair with a sharp tug.
Forcing your head back, his grip anchoring you.
“Don’t think so, darlin’. Know you saw those eyes on you,” He’s lost the steady edge to his voice, words turning rough, “Go on, be loud.”
The Ghoul’s hips pound harder, the rough texture of his cock stroking deep. Each sending a current through you, leaving your fingers and toes flexing, aching for just a little bit more.
“Saw you come in with me. Show ‘em who you belong to.”
“Fuck!” You cry, wishing you had a name to scream. Unable to muffle your ragged breath, the moans he pulls from you.
It fills the room, melding with the slick punch of his cock into your wet and needy cunt. Better than before, because his hands are on you now - leaving your hair, blunt nails dragging down your back. Ghosting across your hip, where your skin presses into the wood.
“Touch me.” You beg, again, “Let me touch myself, I can’t-”
His hand withdraws, and you whine - backpedaling. Afraid that he’s going to pull from you, finish himself across your back or your ass for asking.
“Please. Fuck, please. Don’t, I’m so close-”
He groans at your plea through clenched teeth.
Releasing his grip on you, only for his hand to slide to the base of your throat. His other arm looping beneath you as he hauls you against him, flattening against your ribs.
Palming at a soft breast, as you’re pulled up and pressed flushed to his chest.
“Listen to you, miss manners,” He grins - teeth bared, “That’s more like it, honey.”
The bandolier cuts into your skin, the wood into your thighs. And change in the angle that has your cries growing louder as his cock pounds against a soft spot inside you. Warm breath ghosting against your neck, deep rumbling growls in your ear.
Everything fades, growing hazy. His fingers tighten, but not enough to fully choke the air from you. An implication - your own hands wrapping around his wrist to anchor yourself to him. 
You can hear him inhale you, the scrape of teeth against your skin above the heavy press of his fingers. Salvation in the way the hand splayed beneath your chest drifts lower, his voice smooth in your ear.
“This is for listening,” He husks, “You understand?”
Relentless, when his fingers press against your clit. Slick and circling until you’re grinding into his touch, meeting the hard slap of his hips.
The gasping chant of “fuck, fuckfuckfuck,  please-” turning into mindless whimpers, his rough rhythm growing sloppy.
“Goddamn, you feel good.” It’s a ragged sigh, “Feel your tight little cunt squeezing me. Gonna make a mess, sweetheart?”
It sounds muted, layering with a ringing white noise. Your nails bite into his wrists as the swiftly building tides breaks. Almost missing the sweet growl in your ear.
“Let them hear how a pretty thing like you sounds coming on a cock like mine.”
You do, with the next swirl of his rough fingers - the sound broken as he rips it from you.
Bearing down around the cock that fits so deeply into you, with each blissful pulse of your release. Forgetting about the rest - about the outside world - as your nerves alight with pleasure.
His hand drops from your throat to brace against the table. Bending you flat again as he feels you flutter and gush around his length, crushing you against the top as blunt teeth close against the pulse point of your throat, biting down.
The sounds of his own orgasm muffled - a ragged groan as his cock throbs, as he fucks himself deep into you. Tasting the salt of your skin as you yelp, clenching around him - milking him until your walls are coated with his spend.
He hadn’t meant to - but the urge to pull from you had wavered the moment he buried himself in your cunt. Abandoned completely, after feeling you come so sweetly around him. An instinct lingers even now - to enjoy the soft press of your body against his, your warmth.
You shiver as his lips brush your neck, the closest thing to an apology as you’ll get - before he’s pulling away from you, leaving you clenching and empty.
A ragged hand slips between your thighs as you prop yourself up on your elbows, catching your breath. Pleasure still radiating from your core as fingertips swipe through the come that is just starting to leak from you.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” He laughs - the sound ragged, with a flash of yellowed teeth.
“Guess this means you better start cookin’.”
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The Vault Suit is left beneath the table, a crumpled up reminder that you’re happy to leave behind.
Your cheeks burn as you leave the saloon - the strangers from before cleared out. A definite wobble to your steps - something that The Ghoul certainly notices, the low tilt of his hat hiding the curling pull of his lips.
Outlining the path towards the next bounty as you find your way out, guessing where you might find a lab along the way.
And it’s only as the city starts to fade, that you realize -
He never bound your wrists again, after.
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I have the brainrot for this man for sure! Thank you for stopping by & reading 💖 (and I have also been reading so much about the new chem the Ghoul takes! For plot & smut reasons - I am going with RadAway, haha)
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nameless-ghoul-trash · 8 months
Text
Papa emeritus IV X Ghoul!Mom!F!Reader (Part 1)
Ghouls age different than humans. (Y/N) was a perfect example of this fact. Through her many years in the abbey, she was unchanging, compared to her human counterparts. Keeping almost the same unearthly grace and beauty she had the day they were summoned. She has seen so many faces come and go as she remained to same in appearance.
The quintessence ghoul had been around the abbey for as long as anyone could remember. Summoned nearly 7 generations of Papa's ago, by Papa Nihals grandfather. Before even the ghost project ghouls.
Due to this (Y/N) grew to hold humans, and even ghouls, at arms length. Leaving her private life her own. She was also known to rarely take lovers, if any at all. Tired of grieving the losses of companions throughout her time as a part of the ministry. This never stopped her from being kind, though. She took care of everyone around her. Making sure everyone is fed, clean, happy, and healthy. She had earned the nickname "Ma" and "Mama Ghoul" because of her motherly nature. Little does anyone know she is just that, a mom. A mom who misses her kit.
-
2.7k words
Lightly proof read.
Warning: sodo being a softy?, Cussing
Part 2
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You looked around the common area, making a mental checklist of the tasks that needed to be done. Placing your headphones in, you quickly got to work cleaning the areas. You were charged with keeping the ghoul dens clean, tidy, and stocked. It was just one of the many chores you completed daily. While most of the ghouls were out doing their own things, you would care for the dens. Ensuring everyone had a nice place to come to by the end of the day. The dens span over the east wing of the abbey. The different eras of the ghost project having their own spaces and one large den for the rest of the ghouls in the abbey. That's where your room was. You were currently in the den for the Imprea era ghouls. This one being made up of 12 bed rooms, only 8 of which were occupied, a common area, and a small but comfortable kitchen. It is the last ghoul den that needed done for the day.
   You make your way around gathering the different "nesting" materials laying in various areas of the room. Folding the blankets, you hang all of them one by one on the blanket ladders. You fallow by placing the pillows in their respective spots and putting the random articles of clothing stung about in the hamper. Wiping down and dusting the needed surfaces, you finish by vacuuming and taking out the trash. Doing a once over of the space, you deem it good enough. Pulling out your headphones, you look over to the clock on the wall. Quarter till noon. Almost lunch time. Turning off all the lights, you make your out into the hall. You would be back later that night. It was your turn to clean up after supper.
Making your way to the dining hall in the larger ghouls den, you grab a light lunch and make your way toward the emptiest table available. You prefer to eat in the ghouls den over the regular dining hall, like most ghouls. Avoiding the crowds and loudness that comes with dining with all the siblings of sin. You avoided them whenever possible. Hearing heavy footsteps approaching, you turn slightly. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a very unpleased looking Sodo making his way towards you. His tail thrashed behind him violently. Reaching the table, he pulls out his chair and throws himself in it, arms crossed, looking straight ahead. If his body language didn't signale that he was pissed, the heat rolling off his body in waves sure did. Blinking at him, you note the ghoulettes, swiss and rain take a seat further down to long table beside Sodo. You also take notice of the absence of two other ghouls that were typically with the group. Turning your attention back to Sodo, you search for an explanation. "Hey, what wrong?"  You asked Sodo softy. He looked over to you and seemed ready to explode. "They pulled Aether from the upcoming tour. Ma, the fuck are we supposed to do?" His out burst startled you slightly but you were quick to recover. Sodo retracted into himself trying not to let grief and anger over take him. Casting a glance at the others they seem to be in a similar states of distress. Grabbing onto Sodo, you drug him into a standing position with little to no protest. Nodding for the others to fallow you, you leave your lunch abandoned on the table. Leading them all to you room to avoid unwanted attention. "Where is Aether and Mountain?" You asked, opening your door to let everyone in. "Aether is still with Copia and Sister Imperator. Mountain is probably in the garden. He split off after we left practice."  Swiss answered. The taller ghoul did not come to you in search of comfort as often as the others did. You never pushed him to either. He would when he needed it.
    Sitting down on the ground in a circle, you had Cumulus to your left and Sodo to your right. Opening the arms, you let him lean into you. You had always had a soft spot for him. He reminded you of your kit in ways. High energy and a quick tongue. Then again, Rain and him shared similar traits to. You had not seen him in so long. 
   "Okay, tell me what happened." You throw out. Everyone started talking at once, overlapping each others words. "Hey! Okay, one at a time!" You called out. "We were in practice. Everything was fine, but Sister Imperator came in and announced the need for a band meeting." Rain answered first, Cirrus picking up where he left off. "Going on about pulling Aether and summoning a replacement. Blah, blah, blah. We don't need a replacement! Aether is just fine!" She throws her hands up, tail thuding on the floor. "Did Papa know? Was he part of the decision?" You pushed. "I don't think so. He was pretty upset, too."  It was Cumulus' turn to answer. The thought pained you a little. You had met Copia in his early twenties, but only getting to learn who he was as a person when he had become Cardinal. He was awkward but had always been kind and did not ask for a lot. He never treated you any different than he did any human. Occasionally, you would run into each other in the garden or in the halls, and he would always take the time to exchange pleantries or take a short walk with you. He had also asked to help if you were working on chores every now and then. You had become quite fond of him. None of that changed even after he became Papa, though you did see him less and less.
    "He was trying to talk to Imperator with Aether when we were dismissed."  Sodo mumbles into your shoulder. "They can't take Aeth away. I don't understand." Looking down at the fire ghoul, you rubbed his back in a comforting manner. Using some of your quintessence for added affect. "Was it explained why they are replacing him?" You asked. It didn't make much sense to you why they would. Aether is one of Copia's longest standing ghouls. He was also fiercely loyal. They all were. To there Papa and to each other. Everyone stayed quiet for a moments, the tension that had slowly been dissipating started to rise once more. "Sister Imperators' only reasoning was something about the need for someone new. Possibly someone younger."  Swiss's words made your blood turned to ice, tail twitching and ears flattening back. You had heard something similar said by Sister Imperator some time ago. It ended with a certain Papa you had considered a close friend dead.
      Aether was one of the older one in the group, yes, but they had just introduced Aurora to the band in place of Sunshine for this tour. "I'm going to go talk to Papa. See if I can't figure out more of what's going on." You let a pouting Sodo sit up, getting to your feet. "You guys are free to lounge around in here if you want. I'll be back later."  You quickly made her exit, closing the door softly.
------
    Sodo looked at the ghouls around him. Ripping his mask off, he flops back with a groan. "This is turning out to be a shit day. And to top it off (Y/N)'s upset now, too."  Sodo sounded defeated. Sodo had an attachment to the older ghoul. She had always had a way of calming him and getting him to talk. Always being there to help. Burn a hole in his clothes? No problem, she'll add patches. Have a headache? She'll offer to rub your neck and temples. He had always been able to rely on her. So had all the others. "We should probably go find Mountain and see if Aether is out of the meeting yet." Rain suggested. Everyone grumbles their agreements. Collectively, they stood and made their way to the door, Sodo slipping his mask back on.
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    You had checked the practice room first in hopes of finding Copia. No such luck. You now found your at his office door. Taking a second to breath, you reins in your thoughts. You knew getting attached to anyone would get you in unwanted situations again, but the group had weaseled their way into the spaces of your heart.
    With a sigh, you knocked on the door and waited a second for a reply. After hearing a muffled "Enter," you let yourself in. Moving into the office, it smelt heavily of burning incense. Looking around the room, you take in the different details. From the couch to your right to the little trinkets that litter one of his bookshelves on the left. (E/C) eyes finally settled on Copia at his desk. "Oh! Fiore! Please, sit! What brings you here?"  He scrambled to clean up his desk and make himself presentable. "I am far from a fragile little flower, Papa." You giggled, taking a seat in the chair placed in front of his desk, tail curling up towards your thigh. Soft eyes take him in. He looks like he'd been crying. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy, and his papal makeup smeared beyond saving. "Not all flowers are, cara, some are deadly and have a bite to them. And please! Call me Copia." He graces you with a soft smile.  "Now what brings a bel fiore, such as yourself, to me today?" Sigh softy, you lock eyes with Copia. "Your ghouls came to me about today. What's going on? They are all angry and upset." Copia's faces falls and a sadness seeps deep into his eyes. Slumping back into his chair, he takes a deep breath. "I am assuming you are talking about the Aether situation?" You nod. "Sister is using it as a form of punishment for me. I am not meeting her expectations. This is her way of telling me, "Get your act together."" He says the last part in a mocking manner. A look of shock crosses your face. "I hope she realizes that you are not the only one that she is punishing with this. The entire band will feel this. It will affect them all on an almost catastrophic level! Aether is an important part of the band." A look of desperation falls over his face. "(Y/N), fiore, I am well aware. Ma cosa devo fare? I tried. She would not budge. I realize what is at stake here, but there is only so much I can do!" They both go silent for a couple of moments. Realization settled in the pit the pit of your stomach. He truly had no control over her decisions. Copia rans his gloved hands over his face, smearing the papal paint more. "Is she sending him back to the pit?" You whispered the question.
You half yearned to go back, but afraid of what you would do if the time ever came. You had been in the abbey so long. You would leave so much behind, but what about what you had left in the pit. You were giving up something either way. "Lucifer, no! That is something I would never allow! This could just be temporary. I will figure something out. Sister plans to summon the new ghoul next friday."  9 days from now. You studied him. He looked truly exhausted. "You're going to have to go talk to them."  Copia let out a defeated sigh, "I know."  "They are devastated." "I know. I know."  "So what are you going to do?" He sat in thought at the question. He was good with the ghouls. They were his family, but this was uncharted territory for them all. "Will you help me talk to them?" He seems unsure of himself at his own question. When you didn't answer immediately, he started to ramble, neck and ears turning red. "You don't have to if you don't want to! I just figured the ghouls hold you in a high regard and that -" "I'll help." You cut him off, offering a small smile. "When do you want to do it?"  Copia visibly relaxed. He was honestly slightly surprised that you agreed. "After supper tonight? After they have eaten?" Copia suggested. You nodded. "That'll work. I have supper clean up for their den tonight." 
Copia smiled at you. "Molto bene! Then it is set! Meet at the den around 6:30?"  "That works."  Setting his hands on his desk, he is a little more cheerful.
     "Now that we have a plan, tell me,  il mio fiore, how have you been? Our little chats have grown to be few and far between. I think about you sometimes, though!" His word brings a small blush to your face. "I have been alright, I suppose. Just busy. How have you been, Copia?" 
      "I have been very busy myself. With all my duties as Papa and now the in coming tour. It's has been quite a lot to handle, but we make due. Sister is not always pleased I have found." Copia quiets at the end. "I will get everything under control, though. I just have to, emmm, figure it all out."  He says with what seems to be almost a fained confidence. Like he was trying to convince himself more than you. "You can ask for help, Copia. With all your duties and paperwork." You flick one of the many piles of paper on his desk. "You know that, right? You truly are not alone in this. I'm sure most of us would be willing to step in and help if you just ask."  Copia stilled, as if what you said surprised him. "I could never ask anyone to take on my work. Especially on top of everything you all already do." You giggle softly at him. He is so stubborn.  "Copia, I'm sure it would be fine. Hell, I'll help you get caught up every night after my chores if you need. You have a lot on your plate right now and have to prepare to welcome a new ghoul into your circle soon. That's not going to be an easy feat. I bet you could get it done in no time if you let people help." Copia took in every word.
     The man had always liked you. He had developed a small crush on you in his younger years. He never could quite get over it, but he never acted on it too much, either. The occasional flirty compliment or a small effort to go out of his way to make conversation, but nothing past that.  "I suppose you are right. I appreciate the offer, fiore. Truly, but you have much on your plate as well. I will take your advice and look into getting help."  You laughed gently. Moving to stand up, you offered a small smile. "I hope you do. I have chores the need finished, so unfortunately, I'm going to cut our time short. Thank you for your time. I'll see you at 6:30." Copia makes his way around the desk and over to the door. "Yes, thank you for coming to me. I will see you then." He opens the door for you. Stopping at in the frame, you look back to him. "Oh, and one more thing." He waits a moment. "They regard you just as high. Don't ever doubt your ghouls." With that, you take your leave. Closing the door, Copia strides back to his desk. Taking a seat, he let out a long breath. He has a lot to think about.
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Bel - lovely
Fiore - flower
Cara - dear
Ma cosa devo fare - but what am i to do?
Molto bene - very good
Il mio fiore - my flower
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Hello friends! I decided to turn this into a multi part series. I hope you enjoy part 1! I appreciate any feedback as this I my first fic. I am also accepting requests. Thank you for your read!
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wrr000 · 10 days
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my love for y'all (and him) is infinitive
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ghouljams · 1 month
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In love with the idea of Ghost dating someone his complete opposite. All sunshine and bubbly personality, lighting up every room they step into, bright colors and boisterous laughter. Everyone is floored that someone like you is dating someone like Ghost, someone who broods in the corner while you socialize, but he evens you out. You feel safe with him, and he never makes you feel ashamed of loving the fun parts of life, never calls you childish for finding joy in the little things. He stops to snip flowers for you while you're on walks, flashing his knife for anyone that will look as he hands you pink tulips and daffodils.
You're such a bright spot in Ghost's life. How could he not love someone like you? Sure you're his opposite, but he needs that, needs someone who loves life enough to love him too. He loves that you care so damn much about everyone and everything, loves stopping the car so you can pick up stray dogs and reunite them with their families, loves that you literally stop to smell the roses on walks, loves watching how people flock to you but somehow you still choose him every time.
And that's really it, the choosing. You chose him, and you keep choosing him. What more could he want? He doesn't want to ruin your sweetness, he wants the reassurance that for all the goodness in the world you still pick him, the shadow in the corner. But how could you not when Simon loves you more honestly, more sincerely, than anyone ever has? He'd go to the ends of the earth for you, he'd kill for you, die for you. Who needs sunshine and rainbows when the grim reaper listens to your every command? No, you're happy to keep choosing Ghost. It's like they say: opposites attract
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Quickie
Summary: You, a wondering trader, and he, a ghoul bounty hunter, cross paths and decide to camp together. Nights in the wasteland were dangerous on your lonesome, after all.
Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader
Warnings! smut, face sitting, cowgirl position, coming inside
Fluffy part 2 -> HERE
Link to my other fallout works on ao3 -> HERE
Masterlist
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The fire illuminates the harsh features of the ghoul across from the flickering flames. He is handsome by ghoul standards, and you feel an ache in your core you've not felt in a long time. You cock your head to the side and debate with yourself, before shrugging in a matter of a couple of seconds. You'd never been picky.
"Wanna fuck?"
Cooper jerks his head up from where he'd been studying the waves in the sand that the wind left behind. He locks eyes with you across the flame, gives you a once over, and then smirks deviously.
"Ain't ever been propositioned in such a way, but why not. You got any rad-away? I'd hate for such a pretty thing to end up lookin' like me," Cooper drawls and leans back on his hands, legs man spread and cocks his head at you when you nod.
"Come 'ere then, Darlin'."
You stand, reaching for the button of your pants and popping them open as you amble over to his side of the camp. You stand before him, and Cooper reaches out to hook his thumbs into your jeans, jerking them down and past your knees. The ghoul tugs one of your shoes off and tugs the jeans off one leg so that they are out of the way. You raise a brow when he stays clothed, confused for a beat before he pats his chest.
"Let's get you wet, Doll. Then you can ride me til the sun comes up."
Your cheek warm, but you aren't about to argue, and so drop to your knees, one leg one on either side of his head. His hands find your hips and guide you forward, and a hiss leaves your throat when his tongue meets your mound. Cooper eats you like this is his last meal, obscene wet noises coming from where he is buried between your thighs.
Cooper smirks when he sucks your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly and causing you to fall forward, hands hitting the sand and destroying the waves. The ghoul doubles his efforts, tongue swirling around your sticky folds and slurping down the mess you make, a groan of his own fading into the night when he tastes you.
Electric heat coils tight in your belly, and you are seconds away from having one of the best orgasms of your life when the ghoul lifts you by the waist and tugs you down. A shout breaks through when his cock drags across your folds and then slams home, his length deep and perfect inside of you.
"Heh, that's it, ride my cock, cowgirl," Cooper rumbles below you and grips your hips, bouncing you up and down, fucking up into your tight cunt every time he drags you back down. Your hands find his shoulders and dig in, holding on for dear life as the ghoul fucks you silly.
Coop drags a hand down from your hip and to your clit, pinching the pulsing bud between two fingers. You snarl silently, pleasure singing up your spine and making you curse colorfully. Cooper laughs under you, and knows you are close by the way your pussy flutters around his dick.
"Come on, baby. Come all over my cock," He snarls and you tip over the edge when he snaps his hips up, pulling you down and burning himself as deep as he could go. Coop rocks into you, and seconds later, you feel splashes of hot cum fill you up, so much that it begins to leak down your thighs.
You take big gulps of air to catch your breath, looking down at the Ghoul with a grin as you rock your hips back and forth.
"Think you can keep it up, old man?" You quip and are rewarded with Cooper rolling the two of you, the ghoul shifting to his knees and grinning meanly down at you.
"Well now, how about we find that out, Darlin'?"
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Take the damn shot
A/N: Ohhhhh I've spiraled. Going from Mandalorian fics to writing about a radioactive cowboy with no nose within a couple weeks of each other is totally healthy :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence. Summary: A single quiet day in the saloon is all you wanted. But somehow, your Ghoul partner is pulling his gun and you're covered in another person's blood. Honestly, it's just typical.
Word Count: 1.7k+
(GIF Credit to @djo)
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The Ghoul hates to admit it, but he needs you.
In the same sick and twisted, goddamned way he needs the Vials to stay sane, he needs you next to him. When poison air grows thick and the scorching sun sinks beyond a brutalized horizon, you’re always at his side. Day in and day out, you stick around. Full of piss and vinegar, ready to take on the fucked up world you’re all stuck in.
And Cooper’s not one for generosity anymore, but he gives you credit a lot of the time. He knows he can be nasty, and you don’t mind one bit. In spite of his callousness and general disregard for safety, you put on a chipper attitude and tug him (sometimes physically) along to the next town.  Outwardly innocent but filled with a mutual hatred for Vault-Tec and what its influence had done to the world and yourself, you’d quickly become his diamond in the rough. 
And you shine particularly bright in the shack of a building the Wasteland called a saloon. You’ve made careful friends with a couple of gray-haired biddies- presumably the owners-  in the back of the room, and chat happily with them. Cooper sits off to the side behind you, a bottle of the local brew dangling between his fingers. He’s content for the first time in a while; ass in a creaky rocking chair and boots kicked up on an old milk crate. The brim of his hat is pulled down to hide the majority of his face, but eyes wander lazily from you to the front door. 
Cooper didn’t think many things were nice any longer, but listening to you prattle on with the women warmed something in his dead heart.
“You’re awfully pretty for this place.” The older of the two women, sporting a single eye and an impressively neat beehive style, compliments you. “Gotta be out of the Vaults with that skin.”
The Ghoul tenses, knowing the mention of your 200-year prison would strike a nerve. 
“Yeah. I’m from before the war, actually.” You say it plainly and chase it down with a swig of liquor. “Fuckin’ Vault-Tec.”
The Ghoul’s familiar with your story, from you finding out about the plan to drop homemade bombs on American citizens to your confrontation with the executive group in Vault 31. Little did you know, you’d be sneaking in with no chance for escape. Cooper tightens his fist at the thought of Hank MacLean shoving you carelessly into a cryopod and slamming the button to lock you in. You’d relayed the story to him with watery eyes, and that’s something he absolutely loathed. He had enough personal beef with Hank that your trauma added to his ever-growing list of things to be absolutely pissed-the-fuck-off about.
Finch and Sparrow, as they were so comically named, clutch their pearls in sadness as you tell your story. They fawn over you, and Cooper makes out a few ‘fuck them Vaulties’ and a ‘well as much as it sucks, we’re glad you made it this far’. You sniff just barely and wipe your eyes. 
“Thanks, ladies. It means a lot.” 
The conversation turns back pleasant for the most part, and you’re enthralled as the women pull you into the town gossip. Cooper begrudgingly gets up to piss, comfy as he was, but stops at your side to hand off his bag first. You take it with a nod, more interested in the rumor mill than his whereabouts for the moment. He swaggers to the back door of the saloon, where wind whips sand against his jeans and patters the leather of his boots with tiny rocks. 
Voices drift out the door from inside as Cooper yanks his zipper back up. 
“Is it true what they say ‘bout Vaulties?” It’s a man’s voice, gruff and demanding in comparison to the happy lilt of yours. “Heard your story and always been… curious.”
“If you listened, you would know I ain’t no Vaultie.” Your reply is instant, but the edge in your voice has Cooper stepping a little faster down the short hallway. He reemerges to the sight of a suspiciously dressed man leaning against the wood beam beside your table, a little too close for comfort. 
“Sure you are, darlin’. I can tell by lookin’ at’chya.” The man’s face is half-covered by a bandanna, and a pair of sand goggles are pushed up on his forehead, “Like they say.. everything’s… softer.”
There’s suddenly a hand landing on your shoulder, and Cooper sees red. His gun is pulled before he knows it, leveling at the man’s forehead. 
“Hands off the girl.” He growls. 
On closer inspection the man is probably close to the age you appear. Above the bandanna, weatherbeaten skin turns into frizzy ginger hair. He’s wearing a typical duster type coat, and the goggles are leaving red marks in his forehead. Cooper decides he’s taken shits more attractive than him. 
Probably smarter, too. 
“Fuck off, Ghoul.” Is the reply Cooper receives, sending  a flash of white-hot anger through his already irradiated body. “I wasn't talkin’ to you.”
It was all too common, being brushed off. At this point in his life, it actually brings a smirk to his face. Your mouth is even tipping up at the edges, having had many interactions with the can of worms this guy was prying open. 
“Listen man, I think you should let it go.” You warn and try to stand from the broken chair you had been carefully perching on. The red-head doesn’t relent, and pushes you back down into the chair. It wobbles dangerously as Cooper stomps closer. The movement prompts your captor to pull his own gun. It’s a crudely made pipe pistol, but able to shoot flying projectiles into your brains nonetheless.
“Get your goddamn hands off her before I decorate that wall with your fuckin’ skull.” Cooper yanks the hammer back on his pistol, hesitating at your close proximity.
The redhead pulls his bandanna down and Cooper watches you lean away as you recognize the scent and characteristics of a Fiend. His teeth are hanging loosely at crooked angles, and the pock marks around his mouth from scratching his skin open drip blood and serous fluid. His gun is trained on Cooper, but he freezes when he sees the Ghoul shift forward. 
“Ah ah ah. How’d you like me to put a bullet in her instead?” The Fiend tugs you to your feet and nuzzles at your hair as he presses the barrel of his gun to your ribs. “I’d love a taste myself.”
The suffocating need to keep you safe and at his side fills Cooper’s corroded veins as you scowl at the Fiend whose nose is pressed dangerously close to your cheek with rotten teeth bared. Rage ignites from the anger he’s already feeling. 
BANG. 
Cooper’s watching when the red spray of blood washes over half the saloon, but still doesn’t quite comprehend what’s happened. His gun didn’t fire, but the scent of ignited powder fills the air. You fall to the floor along with your captor, and the aforementioned rage boils over. He holsters his gun and scrambles to pull you away in the chaos.  
Thankfully, a quick once-over shows you to have no injuries, but the same can’t be said for your attacker. A foot away the Fiend lies still, about five pounds lighter from the gaping hole in his chest. Gore from his wound is splattered thick across your face and neck. Your eyes are pinched closed to avoid anything unsightly entering them, and you lash out blindly when Cooper grasps your arms. 
“Let me go, you rotten bastard!” The Ghoul catches your right hand before it can hook into his jaw, “I’ll kill you myself.”
“Quit squealin’ sunshine, it’s me.” Cooper growls
While he’s getting a handle on your flailing limbs, a shadow covers the both of you. Cooper glances up at the one-eyed old woman who’s sawed-off shotgun is still smoking in her left hand. 
“I know your brain is shrunken and all, but next time take the shot sooner.” She bites. “And feel free to clean up my damn bar.”
Cooper is torn between staring at the older woman- Sparrow, he thinks-  and trying to contain your squirming. He’s not too fragile to admit he really doesn’t want to take a punch from you right now, so he wipes the back of his hand across your eyes and tugs you to sit up beside him. 
“Cooper?”
He huffs a laugh at your incredulous tone and flicks away the remnants of blood littering your skin “The one and only. Open your eyes.”
They flicker open slowly, and you pout at the blood congealing on your clothes. “I just got these pants.”
Cooper sets a hand on your thigh and squeezes gently. “I’ll buy you a new pair. S’Long as you promise not to get Fiend all over those ones too.”
You thrust an elbow into his ribs at the jab and climb to your feet. Cooper follows with a dramatic groan. 
“Old man.” You tease over your shoulder, observing the carnage from Sparrow’s well-aimed shot. A kick to the corpses’ ribs follows, sending a splatter of blood across Cooper’s pants. You shoot him an insincerely apologetic look. “She’s right, you know.”
The Ghoul follows your gaze to Sparrow, who’s hollering at any remaining patrons that dare tread too close to the mess, damning them for tracking blood around the bar. 
“‘Bout what?” 
You lean into his space, the scent of blood thick in the air. “Take the damn shot sooner.”
Cooper grabs the back of your neck and yanks you forward in a hard kiss. The blood transfers easily onto his lips, and he licks it off while pulling away. “Fucker deserved more than one shot.”
Possessiveness floods his mind and he squeezes the soft flesh beneath his fingers. 
“I’da strung him up by his balls if I got my hands on him.” He mutters, tracing another finger through the blood and popping it into his mouth. “After grabbin’ onto you like that.”
You lean into his chest and let a smile curl the corners of your lips up. “All for little ol’ me?”
The Ghoul pinches your bloody cheek. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”
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thanks for reading, much love ❤
Read More: Fallout Masterlist
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