#cooper howard scenario

[op1umeyes]

The World We Knew

☢️ — synopsis. Sometimes even the Ghoul got lost in thought.

When Cooper was bored and there wasn’t anything worth shooting, he would find himself thinking of the love he had, the life he had, and the world he knew. He only let himself take a blast to the past once in a blue moon. Cooper knew that you were dead, your corpse long rotted over the 200 some years after the bombs dropped.

Admittedly this was one of the times Cooper would think of her.

The first time Cooper heard of you was after hearing your name being brought by some scriptwriters. “She’s just a young thing without much experience. We need to have a bigger name in this move, not some girl!”

The other man ‘tsk’ed. “Foolish man! I know the woman personally- not in such an inappropriate way, mind- and this would do wonders for her career! Y/n is truly a lovely thing and skilled at her trade. Just let me bring her in, Randy. Make your decision after you meet her.”

Randy sucked his teeth and massaged his temple. “Fine. A quick meeting. But when that thirty minutes is over, don’t yell at me when she’s thrown out.”

The Ghoul pulled out his canteen of miraculously clean water and took a sip. He had quietly grabbed a snack during their conversation and left without a word. Little did he know just how drastically his life would change after that conversation.

“Hello! I’m y/n l/n,” a woman greeted politely. She stuck out her manicured hand and shook Cooper’s tightly. Cooper was surprised by your firm and respectful handshake- he was used to people running up and hugging him or gushing and asking him questions.

“Well,” Cooper said as he returned your handshake. “I’m Cooper Howard, darlin’. More than happy to make your acquaintance. What brings you around… here?” He gestured to the men and women running around the movie set. He remembered your name from the overheard conversation from about a month ago. 

You just laughed. “It would appear, Mr. Howard, that I will be lucky enough to work with you. I would have gone as far as to guess the production crew would have told you? It was brought to my attention that you were aware of my arrival,” you explained. Cooper was amazed at your polite and easygoing nature. It felt wonderful to be treated like just and average Joe for once. “I’m sorry you had to find out by me, Mr. Howard. I was under the impression you were already aware of this arrangement.”

“Oh, Cooper or Coop is fine, sweetheart,” Cooper told you kindly. “And it is truly no problem. Why don’t we go and see if we can get you all situated?” To Cooper’s delight, you nodded with a grateful smile. “Well have some time left until we wrap up for the day: why don’t you tell me about yourself, darlin’?”

Heaving a sigh, Cooper lets himself kick aimlessly at a large chunk of rock. What he wouldn’t do to go back in time to just have another conversation with you…

You two had gotten alone like two peas in a pod! Weeks passed quickly and soon the movie Caught on the Tides was released. To no one’s surprise, it was a smashing hit. People apparently loved the idea of a woman who was practically immune to the male charm until Walter (Cooper) caught your eye at a local festival. It was an easygoing romance/comedy that was thankfully PG-13. As a young woman, the past roles you were offered were side pieces or basically selling yourself. You took what you could get and attempted to steer clear of the nudity.

The side celebratory party was amazing. Randy and Joseph had rented out a cozy little bar/restaurant building that had enough room for about 100 people. The other castmembers, producers, and writers were there along with quite a few guests.

As the night went on, though, you found yourself growing increasingly exhausted with all the plastered smiles and arm patting and men’s eyes dropping to your assets whenever they thought you wouldn’t notice. You slipped out a side door and dug out a smoke and a light from one of the pockets you’d personally sewn into your dress.

You had just slipped out of your heels and plopped (unladylike, of course, but no one else was there to reprimand you) when the door opened. The intrusion made you want to sigh unprofessionally loudly and hide in the puffy material of your dress. Until Cooper’s smooth voice and slim body say down right beside you.

“Some producers are lookin’ for you.” Cooper’s comment doesn’t have the sharpness your manager’s would when she hollered up a storm about your tendency to wander.

In response you only click your tongue and fill your lungs up with smoke. You turn and face Cooper, who’s complexion is lit wonderfully but the light of the full moon. “Do you think the man on the moon gets lonely, Coop?”

Cooper’s eyebrows dip downwards. “I- I’d imagine so. Can’t be too fun bein’ up there by his lonesome.”

“I think so too,” you hum. Smoke seeps out of your lips as you turn to ask him another question. “Do you ever feel like the man on the moon, Coop? I’m just- I- I wonder if I’m in over my head sometimes with everyone here, Coop, and I-“ your words stumble out of your mouth and your hands shake as you bring the cigarette to your lips again. “I just feel like… you’re the only one that knows what I’m talking about, what I’m feeling.”

Cooper stares into your teary eyes with a heavy heart. You brought out such a protective part of Cooper he hasn’t felt since… since falling in love for the first time. Cooper shook his head. “I know, sweetheart,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. A sick part of him feels ecstatic that you are practically snuggling into his side- that you feel that he is the only one that understands. Deep down Cooper indulges himself in thinking you want him the way he wants you.

But you don’t. So Cooper is just barely content to let you lean into his side and tearfully ask for advice. “A part of that is always there, sweetheart. I feel like the man on the moon more than I’ll ever admit. But I’m also an old man who’s future is practically set in stone. You, though,” he chuckled and patted your side. You seeped into him and Cooper felt adrenaline rush through his veins. He could smell your delicately scented shampoo and matching body wash. “You could have any man on Earth you wanted, darlin’. Only a fool wouldn’t fall for you.”

You sighed and snuffed out your cigarette. Every part of you told you to leave him alone- to leave whatever relationship you have with him alone because he’s married (and you’d rather die than ruin your friendship). But being tucked under his arm and hearing the speed of his heartbeat made you think he felt the same as you. “Coop?”

Cooper looked back down at you. “Hm?”

“Are you a fool?”

Cooper’s heart raced. Your powerful gaze seemed to dig into his soul, searching for the answer he’d be damned to hell if he never gave you. “Do you take me for a fool, darlin’?”

You swallowed. “No, Cooper. Never.”

Within seconds, Cooper found his lips pressed against yours. He felt like exploding into a ton of confetti. His other hand came to cup your cheek and take dominance of your mouth. The passion Cooper felt was like none other and your breathless whimpers only encouraged him.

“Cooper…” you murmured, sitting up and grasping st the nape of Cooper’s neck. You felt perfect.

Cooper closed his eyes. He stood outside a familiar house. He figured he would stay here for the night. Cooper had already cleared, secured, and set traps around the building whenever he knew he’d be back.

Heaving a sigh, Cooper settled down on the bed and tilted his hat down over his eyes.

“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart,” Cooper muttered after wrapping a hand around your waist. “Got another birthday party and then I’m all yours, baby doll.”

The fall from fame was hard on everyone but Cooper refused to let it affect your career. He only saw you in professional settings and when no one saw you enter or leave his house. 

“Manager’s giving me the day, so I’ll be here all day if you don’t mind,” you said, scooping out cherry pie filling from the can to your mouth with a spoon. Frank Sinatra’s hauntingly low voice crackled through the radio, painting a scene Cooper wanted to commit to memory forever.

Cooper just shrugged. “Up to you,” he said. “How do I look?”

You tilted your head and slid off the counter. Your hands came up to adjust the collar of Cooper’s blue cowboy shirt. Then they slid down to his lapels to smooth back. “Perfect. Ready to roll, cowpoke,” you joked.

His soft eyes stopped you in your tracks. “Why’re you looking at me like that, Coop?”

“Like what?” Cooper asked. His tone was teasing but you noticed a hint of the seriousness that had grown on him as of late.

You shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, Coop. Like… like you love me, I suppose.”

Laughter filled the room, drowning Sinatra’s eerie song. “‘I suppose’?”

You shook your head with laughter. “I don’t want to overstep right now, Coop.”

The mood turned quiet again at your words. Cooper took your face in his hands and rested his thumbs under your eyes. “You don’t overstep, sweetheart. Speak your mind. Always.”

“I will. Promise,” you replied solemnly. Cooper pulled your face up to his and kissed you gently.

“I’ll be home later, sweetheart. Promise.”

You grabbed your spoon and the cherry pie filling before fallowing Cooper outside. The cool grass felt good on your bare feet as you watched Cooper mount his horse. When he looked back at you, Cooper broke out into laughter at the sight of you raising our eyebrows suggestively. “I’ll be back soon, sweetheart, and then we can get busy.”

You muttered something along the lines of ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’ before nodding with a comically dejected expression. “Alright. Bye Coop. Be safe!”

Cooper tipped his hat at you. “I will, sweetheart. I’ll see you later, now.”

Cooper could have sworn he heard you call out ‘I love you’ as he rode away. In fact, Cooper would have sworn on his life that you had said you loved him. But Cooper would just come home to you and hear you say it clearly when he got home.

If he got home.

200 years later, Cooper heard Frank Sinatra singing “over and over, I keep going over the world we knew” and wished he would have told you he loved you back.

[smuttyfang]

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul)

All Kinds Of Wrong (Female Reader)(TW: Cooper is sadistic obviously, Knifeplay, but no blood)

Want to commission me? Send me a message!

Cooper needs a woman to trade for his drugs. He finds you, in the wrong place at the wrong time. You both get caught in the muffle of a radiation storm in a sheltered basement. Conversation ensues, and Cooper takes an interest in you.

Word Count: 9,067 (Full fic!) (Tap here for early access to all my works.)

This bar.. it was your favorite place to visit. It was really your only respite from the harshness of the outside world. Even though the broken and rotten pieces of wood still exposed the cruel world outside, the holes in the building and the smell of the moist wood became an afterthought when you came here. Even if it was just for a few moments, it was keeping you sane. You didn’t have much, no. Most like everyone else. However, you managed to find yourself in a decent enough position to have a few spare caps at the end of every week to enjoy a drink or two. These little moments kept you going, and it wasn’t worth saving the caps for anything else, in your eyes.

You stepped inside, pushing the tattered and dusty cloth in the doorway out of your way. The male bartender gave you a little nod, becoming used to your usual weekend visits. Despite that, you still didn’t even have a clue what his name was. He was a larger man, somewhat muscular with a beer belly. You’d seen him.. Sampling his own stock many times in your visits. He always reeked of alcohol, making you pretty sure that he was a drunk himself.

Oh well, to each their own.

The wooden floor creaked as you walked on it, headed toward your favorite table in the corner. You were never bothered back here, so you’ve taken it upon yourself to claim it as your spot.

“Usual?” The bartender hollered toward you, halfway cleaning a glass with an already dirtied rag.

Well.. you didn’t say the place was perfect. But really.. Was any place out there perfect in a post war wasteland?

“Yep, usual.” You responded, taking your seat. It was just a metal chair next to a small round table, big enough for only one. There were a few other patrons in the bar, but everyone mostly always kept to themselves in this place. Each person had their own worries and woes and had no desire to try to carry on a conversation. Which suited you perfectly fine.

The bartender approached you, the reek of alcohol and sweat filling your nose. He sat the drink down on your table, motioning for you to pay him.

“Caps, little lady.” He breathed in and out heavily as he remained planted there, waiting for you. You sighed, pulling the correct amount from your pocket and placing them in his hand.

“You know I’m good for it by now.” You remind him, sliding the glass toward yourself.

“Bah, my business, my rules.” He gruffed, turning around to walk back to the bar. He wasn’t a mean guy by any means, he was just blunt. A lot of people might not have appreciated the way he spoke, but you appreciated his honesty. Conversations with him were always brief, which suited your fancy perfectly.

You looked into the glass, peering down at the liquid inside. This truly was the one thing you got to enjoy. You were going to sit here, and enjoy it for as long as you could tonight.

As you drank, you heard the noise outside suddenly die down. All the voices and chatter in the small town suddenly grew quiet. Even the bartender noticed, glancing in your direction with his brow furrowed. He slowly pulled out his hidden shotgun from beneath the bar, sliding it onto the counter. The other patrons of the bar also gave each other glances, placing their hands on their guns resting on their hips. You did the same, holding the grip of your small pistol at your side. There was tension that arose from every single person, without a single word being spoken.

You heard footsteps approaching the bar, crunching on the dirt. The cloth flap at the doorway moved, and a figure stepped inside. He was a ghoul. His skin was hardened and almost shiny from his transformation. He had no nose left, but his ears were still somewhat normal. He wore a dark brown cowboy hat, as well as a tattered brown coat. Strips of fabric were all that was left toward the bottom, covered in the dust of the dry wasteland. The coat and pants led into a pair of dark brown boots of the same color. The ghoul chuckled as he saw all of the patrons of the bar at the ready to shoot.

“Now, y’all know them little guns ain’t gonna do shit.” He said coldly. “Ain’t here to shoot anybody unless you’re askin’ for it.”

He shrugged his shoulders. It was a subtle threat, but one that caused almost everyone to remove their hands from their guns. You followed them, doing the same. Even the bartender slowly placed his shotgun back behind the counter. His aura was extremely intimidating, making every single person in the bar feel uneasy and on edge.

He seemed.. Familiar to you. Not in face, but in reputation alone. You feel like you’ve heard rumors of him before. The Ghoul. The relentless bounty hunter. You’d never heard his real name, and you’d never seen him in person until now. Death followed him everywhere he went.. You just hoped you weren’t going to be the next one. Nobody had that much of a grudge against you to pay the caps to hire the ghoul to hunt you down either, that you were are of. You mostly kept to yourself, as everyone in this town did.

The air in the place felt heavy. Everything felt tense as the Ghoul approached the bar, placing his hands on the counter as he leaned against it casually. He eyed the bartender up and down before speaking.

“Lookin’ for a girl.” He said, squinting his eyes. “Name’s Suzie.” Everyone in the bar turns even more grim, including you. Somehow, the silence grew even more quiet as her name was mentioned. The bartender tilts his head just slightly, a bead of sweat falling from his hairline.

“You sure that’s who you’re lookin’ for?” The bartender asks the Ghoul. He huffs in response, a smirk on his face.

“Pretty sure, considerin’ I said her fuckin’ name.” The Ghoul remarks in a sarcastic tone. “Where is she?” He asks. The bartender looks around the room before responding.

“Dead, in the ground.” He shrugs his shoulders. The Ghoul’s face grew angry, expecting that the bartender was lying through his teeth to protect her.

“Really now? No need to protect the girl. Ain’t no reason to.” He narrows his gaze toward another person in the bar. A middle aged man covered in grease stains, wearing overalls and a pair of glasses. The middle aged man takes a moment, clearing his throat before responding.

“She is dead. Was torn apart by a pack of ferals.” The patron tells him. “Buried what was left of her right behind the bar, if you don’t believe me.” The Ghoul clicks his tongue in his mouth, looking around at the others in the bar. As if he were searching for the truth, or the lie. The middle aged man spoke up again. “Had blonde hair, still there if you wanna dig deep enough.” Nobody made any effort to stop him from doing it either. Because it was true. None of you were protecting her, she was truly dead. You had seen them digging the grave for her just a few days prior. The dirt would still be fresh. You didn’t know her at all and had only seen her in passing. It did cause you to feel sadness and grief for the girl, but unfortunately, that kind of thing was just common in the world and most people no longer batted an eye to it.

That seemed to be enough to satisfy the Ghoul.

“Well, ain’t this a dilemma..” The Ghoul tells everyone in the bar. He briefly locks eyes with you, looking you up and down before continuing. “I need somebody. So, who’s gonna be the lucky winner?” He asks. He pulls out his gun, casually slinging it around in different directions. “Need a lady. So, who’s it gonna be?” There were only two women in the bar. An older woman on the opposite side of the room.. And you.

The Ghoul looks toward the older woman, but his gaze then goes to you. He looks in your direction, grinning. His teeth were yellowed. “Looks like you’re the only one in here that’ll work, missy.” Panic sets in as he begins to approach you. Your heart began pounding like it was trying to escape from your own chest. You try to back up in your chair, but it was already pressed against the wall as far as it could go.

Not to mention.. Trying to slide a metal chair over cheap, rotten wood was doomed to fail from the start.

“What? Why me!?” You asked him, looking around to the other patrons. None of them tried to help. None of them tried to stop the Ghoul. Each and every one of them just watched the scene unfold. The logical part of your brain knew why. The Ghoul could not be defeated by them, even if they tried. They’d all lose their own lives. However, that didn’t make your anger and fury die down toward them in the moment. Not even a little bit.

The bad thing about living in a town where everyone kept to themselves, is that you had no friends. Not one.

“Just said. I need a fuckin’ lady. Now, get up.” He doesn’t give you any kind of chance or opportunity to respond. He takes a rope from his hip, wrapping it around your wrists. Instinctively, you try to wiggle away as you grunt in frustration. He then places his hand on your throat without any warning, gripping it tightly. Hard enough to completely prevent you from breathing. He squeezed the veins on each side of your neck, and cut off your airway in the center. You freeze up, your eyes growing wide. “Don’t do it, sweetheart. You really do not want to piss me off.” The threat made your blood run cold. He then released your throat, causing you to cough as you tried to catch your breath. He continued to wrap his rope around you, moving from your wrists to your arms. He tied them to your torso, leaving you unable to move anything but your head and legs. The rope led out from your back, leaving him with a way to keep a hold of you. You couldn’t run, even if you tried. His strength was immeasurable compared to a normal human, and he would simply hold that rope.. And jerk you back toward him if you try anything.

“Fuck..” You groaned as he took the pistol from your hip and threw it to the wooden floor. He grinned as he held the line of rope that led to your back, leading you along with him. You were pulled outside by him, exiting the bar. Everyone in the small town stopped to look, but made no effort to try to stop him. You still understood why, but you were still filled with pure rage. All the time you’ve been here, and nobody was even going to attempt to get you out of this situation. You thought you appreciated everyone in this town keeping to themselves, but now you realized that it only hurt you in the end. You had no one.

Everyone in the wasteland was always out for themselves.

You both continued walking through the town. You could see people closing their windows, locking their cheap metal doors, trying to avoid the situation and not get involved. Trying to avoid the Ghoul. Once you both reached the edge of town, the Ghoul then stopped. You stopped as soon as he did, fear settling in once again as your mind raced with every possible scenario and outcome of this situation.

“Walk in front of me so I can keep an eye on you. No funny business. Understand?” He demands, casually swaying his gun around in his hand as he speaks. You nod in reluctant understanding.

“Which way?” You whispered.

“Just go.” He says. You begin walking forward into the darkening evening light. You’d never felt so vulnerable before. You were tied up, left with no weapon or any kind of protection. No stimpaks, radaway or rad-x. It was also getting dark out, and soon you wouldn’t be able to see a damn thing.

You were fucked.

“Why are you doing this?” You speak up to ask after what felt like an eternity of silence, the only sound nearby being your feet crunching into the dirt beneath you.

“Don’t think you need to know that, sweetheart.” He tells you, beginning to walk a bit closer behind you. “Keep on walkin’.” He says, nudging the gun into your back. You continue walking, not wanting to irritate him.

“Oh okay. I’ll just keep marching to my impending doom then.” You remarked in a sarcastic tone.

“Sounds like the only option you got from where I’m standin’.” The Ghoul stated in return. You rolled your eyes, continuing on your path forward until you both reached another town. You lost track of how much time had passed at this point, but it was now dark out. The night had settled in over the desert.

It was a desolate little town that you began walking through, not even any ferals or animals within it. It was eerily quiet. You felt the Ghoul pause behind you, stopping dead in his tracks.. “Wait.” He stated. You stopped and listened, hearing distant thunder. You could see it off in the distance as you looked across the horizon. Lightning and green clouds. The sky around you began to fill with a green haze, quickly warning you of the impending storm.

It was a brewing radiation storm.

You could hear the Ghoul behind you growling at the sight of it. “Rads are nice ‘n all for me, but I can’t have them makin’ you puke all over the place. Can’t have you passin’ out on me. Or ruinin’ that smooth skin of yours.” He looked around the area before nudging the gun against your back again. “Turn right.”

You began walking to the right, through the sea of empty and decrepit houses. Eventually, you come to the back of one of those houses. On the ground was a set of black heavy metal doors. The Ghoul held onto the rope tightly as he went to the doors, opening them with ease. It was pitch black, and you couldn’t see anything inside. You could smell the rain, feel the heat and heaviness in the air, signaling that the storm was getting closer.

“Come on.” He pulls your rope, clicking his tongue at you like you were a farm animal that he was wrangling back into a barn. He almost caused you to trip up on your own feet as he jerked the rope. Straightening yourself back up, you attempted to step inside the shelter. You carefully felt each step down with your feet, trying your best not to fall. The Ghoul then halted you by the rope, reaching back to close the heavy doors. You can no longer see anything at all. You could hear him chuckle a bit. “Too bad, sweetheart. I can see just fine.” He mocks you. You could hear his footsteps walking down the steps. You tried to keep up with him, feeling each step with your feet blindly as you stumbled through the darkness.

As you both reached the bottom and the floor went flat, you paused. You could see his face brighten up as he lit up a match. A small lantern sat on a barrel inside of the room. As he lit it, the room came into your vision just enough for you to make it all out. It was a small, concrete and metal fallout shelter. There were cans of food inside on the shelves, as well as some purified water. There were several sleeping bags strewn about the floor as well. You waited for his direction, still not wanting to piss him off.

“Might as well lay on down.” He tells you, shrugging his shoulders. He then began tying your rope to his own belt, to make sure you didn’t even attempt to try and run away from him.

“I’m not gonna run anywhere in the middle of a rad storm.” You told him honestly. He shook his head.

“I trust your word ‘bout as much as you’d prolly trust mine.” He grinned, flashing his yellowed teeth again. Radiation sickness was the fucking worst, and you weren’t willing to risk it with no radaway nearby. Plus.. You weren’t quite sure if you’d be able to get those doors open on your own. Where would you go if you even could? You couldn’t run fast enough to escape the Ghoul.

Nobody could.

The Ghoul sat down on one sleeping bag tucked in one corner of the room, resting his back against the wall. You moved to the one next to him, awkwardly maneuvering to sit down. Your arms were still tied tightly to your body, and your wrists were still bound almost painfully so. The rope had begun to rub your skin raw from the movement and sweat of walking such a distance.

There was a long silence as you both listened to the storm roll in. The thunder cracked hard outside the metal doors, loud enough to vibrate the ground and shelves within the room. It sounded like the worst radiation storm you’d heard in a very long time.

Within that time of silence between the two of you, the Ghoul then began to cough. It started as a little cough here and there in the midst of the quiet between the two of you, before it grew into full blown wheezing and hacking. You noticed him reach into his coat and pull out something that almost looked like an inhaler. He pressed it to his lips, letting the air flood his lungs. He breathed in and out several times, resting his head on the wall behind him and closing his eyes as he let the medicine take effect. After a few moments, his breathing finally returned to normal.

“Surprised you didn’t try and take off.” He said, looking in your direction as he let out a few more small coughs. He flicked the rope that attached you to his belt.

“What would be the point?” You asked. Literally none of the circumstances were in your favor.

“Exactly. Smart ‘lil lady.” He nods. He pulls a knife from a holster at his side, beginning to sharpen it with a small sharpening block. “You’re probably ‘bout the quietest person I’ve ever taken.” He tells you, eyeing his knife. “Makes my job easier.”

“You clearly don’t wanna answer my questions.. Why would I waste my breath?” You remind him, leaning against the wall just as he was. Each sleeping bag was right in the corner of the room, so you were both quite close. The rope prevented you from being too far away from him to begin with.

“I’ll humor ya since you’ve been good.” He says, his eyes not meeting yours as he continued sharpening his knife. He would check the sharpness once in a while before sharpening it once again.

“Why did you take me?” You ask, thinking of no other better question to ask as the first one.

“Gonna take ya somewhere. Same place I was gonna to take the other ‘lil lady. Suzie.” He tells you, examining his handiwork on the knife. “Need somethin’ they can give me and I’m tradin’ ya for it.” He tells you, as if it were a casual and normal thing to do to someone. He said it like it was nothing, but you guessed that to him, it was practically nothing. After all the stories you’d heard about him, this was probably just another day for him.

“What am I even worth to them?” You ask, awkwardly squirming against the uncomfortable ropes. They began to dig into your skin, giving you painful rope burns. The Ghoul then suddenly pointed his knife in your direction, glaring at you.

“If you’d quit fuckin’ wigglin’ around like that, the ropes wouldn’t burn ya so bad.” He reminded you, pulling the knife back toward himself to continue sharpening it.

“Oh, you’re right. How dare I move around as I’m uncomfortably hogtied?” You said sarcastically. He chuckled in response, amused by your remark.

“I’ll really hogtie ya and drag ya there if I have to. Take me longer to get there, but don’t think I won’t.” He reminded you with a smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. You almost even wanted to chuckle at his comment. There was something about the quips you were throwing back and forth to each other that felt.. Charged. Charged with a different kind of energy that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “As for what you’re worth.. It’s quite a bit. Young ‘n still got all your bits. Still got smooth skin. Worth a lot less if you’re already dead when we get there.” He then puts his knife away in the holster at his side. “Anything other questions?”

“What are they gonna do to me?” You ask, causing him to grin and show those yellowed teeth again.

“Got no idea sweetheart.” He said, watching you closely. It was like he had grown a little curious in these few minutes of conversation.

“You seem more than capable. You had my whole town frightened and standing down without doing anything. Why not just threaten these people or break in and take what you need?” You ask him. It wasn’t a question with any kind of smart tone, no. You truly wanted to know why he didn’t just take what he wanted from these people, like he seemed to take anything else he wanted.

“Got no clue how much they make at a time. Don’t know if they just produce it when I ask for it or if they have a stock. I break in, might not have any at all. Then I’d be fucked.” He tells you as he opens up a bit. You heard a loud clap of thunder from outside, feeling the vibration in the ground. The shelves shook lightly, rattling the canned food and water.

“Is what you’re getting from them the same medicine you took earlier?” You ask him.

“Yep.”

“What’s it for?” You ask, growing all the more curious.

“Keeps me from eatin’ you alive.” He admits, grinning at you.

It seemed to make a bit of sense, at least. He traded people for some purpose, for this medicine that kept him from going feral. Part of it made you feel sad. He was doing something completely monstrous, sure. There really was no excuse for that.. But he was doing it for his own survival, as a lot of other people would do in his position. So he didn’t lose his mind and become a mindless, feral creature. It had to be a horrifying transformation to suffer through.

“That’s quite sad.” You finally say after thinking about his words. He pauses and his grin only grows wider.

“I quite enjoy it, ‘lil missy.” He tells you, leaning forward and away from the wall to look at you more closely. “Nothin’ sad about it. Just the law of the land, sweetheart.” He eyes you closely, his eyes moving from your eyes down to your body and back up again. The mood between you two had shifted in an unexpected way. Something was there.

“Why do you call me sweetheart?” You question him.

“‘Cause I fuckin’ want to. Got a problem?” He states, expecting an upset response from you. But you don’t have one.

“No. Not at all.” You admit, offering him a slight smile. He seems surprised, tilting his head and looking you up and down once more.

“Well, well, well.. Ain’t that interesting.” He says, chuckling as he watches you. “Been alive for a long time. Can’t say I’ve ever had anyone bold enough to say somethin’ like that.”

“So you call all the women you kidnap sweetheart?” You ask. Something compelled you to just try and be casual and normal with him, dispute the situation. Maybe it was the sadness you felt for his issues, or maybe you were just doing it in the hopes for your own survival. Maybe it was something else entirely, the shift in energy between the two of you. Maybe.. It was the building tension that neither of you were addressing. But at the moment, he was leaning into it just as much as you were. He half laughs at your comment.

“Force of habit, I reckon. I usually do.” He says.

“Well, I feel less special now.” You fake whine. The radiation storm outside drew in your attention momentarily as the thunder clapped again, causing vibrations you could feel beneath you. Your attention quickly returned to him, and the growing tension and electricity in the room.

“You’re just a victim of the circumstances, in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He tells you. “Ain’t no hard feelings.” He then leans back against the wall, seemingly growing more and more intrigued by you. “Never had anyone carry on a conversation with me either. You must be really brave, or just plain stupid.”

“I figured if I listened, you wouldn’t kill me or just knock me out and drag me. Not sure if that's either brave or stupid.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

“You’d be half right.” He tells you. “I’d take ya either way. But like I said, you’re worth a lot less to me dead. Can’t ding up your smooth, pretty skin either.” He says, his eyes briefly looking you up and down once more. You had no idea what it was about him, but something pulled you to him, like The Brotherhood of Steel to technology that didn’t belong to them.

“Pretty, huh? You sure do know how to charm a lady.” You joke, giving him a smile. He leans a bit closer to you, flashing you a smile.

“Southern charm, I reckon.” He jokes back. Fuck, what the hell was happening right now?

“I would say so.” You agree. He was charming, despite his harsh exterior and terrifying presence.

“You ain’t right.” He tells you, shaking his head. “Ain’t ever met a woman quite like you. You must be half crazy.”

“I would say observant. You remark. “I can see who people really are, or what they used to be beneath their exteriors. You’re just trying to survive.” He huffs, shaking his head.

“I got you tied up, ready to sell you off for drugs, and you ain’t pissed off at me?” He says, shaking his head again. “You really ain’t right in the head.”

“I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same in your position. A lot of people would, even if they wouldn’t admit it.” You say.

“I still can’t figure out if you’re smart, or stupid.” He admits. “Fine, I’ll humor it. What else do ya see in me?” He asks. “Be honest, sweetheart.” You think for a good, long moment. You look deeply into his eyes for a long time before responding.

“You hold a lot of pain within you. You’ve been around for a long time, and you’ve seen and done things that would make most normal people sick. But they’re narrow minded and can’t see that you’re just trying to live another day. You don’t want to turn feral and mindless. You keep moving and pushing for a purpose. There’s a reason you’re still here. You’re hiding all the pain you carry through the confidence and big attitude.. And you’re lonelier than you’d ever admit to anyone.” You say. He pauses for a long time, looking at you and thinking hard on what you said.

“I guess you might be smart, then.” He simply says.

“Are you lonely?” You ask him curiously. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Does it matter? What would you do if I was, sweetheart? Huh?” He asks, almost as if he were challenging you. “Ain’t nobody wants to stick with this ugly mug. And that suits me just fine.”

“I would have.” You admit to him honestly. He looks at you in suspicion. “If you’d have just told me you needed help with something like this, I would have tried to help you. Not everybody in the wasteland is completely selfish.” You remind him.

“You’d be the first I ever met that wasn’t.” He says. It was true that most were selfish, but often there was a good soul here and there. He just hadn’t met one yet. Until you. “And how would you help me, exactly?”

“I don’t know. But I would have tried.” You say, shrugging your shoulders as much as you could despite the ropes.

“Well, ain’t that sweet.” He chuckles. “Ain’t you just a ‘lil doll.” He said the words in a mocking tone, like he still didn’t believe your bullshit.

“I just like helping people.” You say honestly. It was just the truth. You could sympathise with most anyone on their need to survive and how far they’d go to stay alive. It was just natural to you. You always tried to sympathize and be understanding of others and their situations. This kind of living could make you lose sight of others and their needs, but you never seem to lose that sweetness deep within your soul.

“Answer me this, then.” He begins. “What would you say to an old ghoul like me that was lonely?” He asks, curiously.

“I’d say.. I’d keep him company if he wanted. I would help him. I’d talk with him, have meals with him, offer him an ear and a shoulder.” You say honestly. He thinks for a long while on your words, taking in the depth of what you were saying.

“Even though I’m doin’ this to you, you’d still do that?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“Nevermind about the smart thing. You are fuckin’ stupid.” He says, shaking his head. You couldn't help but let out a small smile, almost wanting to laugh. “But, I appreciate the honesty I reckon.”

“I’d offer, well.. Anything that would help.” With him.. You felt like you really meant that. This tension that was building between you two was now beginning to boil over. You had no idea why you were doing this. But something was drawing you to him in a way that you didn’t think either of you could explain. He didn’t seem to expect the connection either himself. So.. He began to poke the bear, so to speak.

“Anything, huh?” He huffs, adjusting himself against the wall. “You think you’re the first woman I’ve taken like this to try that shit with me?”

“Probably not. But you can probably tell when someone really means it or not. You’ve been around a long time.” You remind him. “You knew that all of us in town weren’t lying about Suzie being dead. You could tell. So.. look at me closely. Do you think I mean it?” You ask him. He examines you for a long time before responding, rolling his tongue around in his mouth and pressing it to his cheeks as he thought.

“Lookin’ to me like you do.” He smirks, humoring you. “Prove it, then. Ain’t ever had anybody who could even try. Dumb women who try always shy away when I challenge them ‘bout it. So prove it ‘lil missy.” He challenges you.

Challenge accepted.

His grin widens as he watches you struggle to prove your point to him, as you awkwardly attempt to get back onto your knees from your sitting position with your arms and hands still tied. You manage it, causing a chuckle from him. He seemed to enjoy watching you struggle, which didn’t surprise you in the slightest. But part of you.. Felt excited. He was sadistic in all things, and you were more than willing to be enveloped by his aura of sadism and lose yourself in it. In him. You crawl on your knees to him, arms and wrists still painfully bound with his rope. You go close to him, feeling excitement and fear all at the same time. He could snap your neck right now. He could knock you out and drag you out of here. He could shoot you right in the damn gut.

But you knew better. He was curious about you. He was intrigued. He wanted to see how far you would go to prove your point to him. And.. He was a sadist who got off on watching you struggle to do so.

He smelled like a mixture of burned skin, gunpowder and a faint hint of something like antiseptic or alcohol. You looked into his eyes for a while, awkwardly on your knees on the hard concrete floor. It was so uncomfortable. It was all around a painful position to be in. But at this moment, it didn’t matter. You had a point to make.

“Fear settlin’ in now? Just go lay back down.” He says, in an attempt to push you away. “Knock this bullshit off.”

But you don’t go. You don’t listen. You lean over, pressing your soft lips to his cheek. His skin was so hard and rough, but you didn’t mind. It was a contrast to your own soft skin, and it was a foreign sensation, but it was intoxicating. It felt calloused, almost. Like he had suffered a burn of several degrees and it was now healed over. You pull back, looking at him as a smile and a light blush dusts your nose and cheeks.

“Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch.” He chuckles. “You are fucked in the head, ya know that?” He tells you, noticing the real smile and happiness in your eyes. There was a glimmer within them, one that you didn’t have before you kissed him. “Seriously, why?” He asks, trying to understand.

“Honestly, I.. I don’t know. I’m just interested in you.” You admit. There was no other way to even try to word it. It didn’t make sense to either of you.

“Sweetheart.. This is all kinds of wrong.” He says, grinning as his eyes examined your face, watching your expression and gaze.

“Since when do you care about wrong?” You ask him, half chuckling. He shrugs his shoulders.

“Alright, you got me there darlin’.” One of his hands comes up to snake around your side. Your eyes brightened even more as he did so, his fingers digging hard into you. It was just the kind of painful pleasure that you enjoyed receiving. “You still wanna do this knowin’ I’m taking you to sell?” He asks.

“Well, if you’re going to sell me then.. At least I’d have a fond memory to think of when I die.” You say. The Ghoul would never admit it.. Ever. But he faltered in that one split second. Knowing you didn’t hate him, didn’t think he was vile or scum, knowing that you understood him and yet still wanted to spend your last hours wrapped up in HIS arms, of all people.. He faltered. Just for a single moment.

“You are fuckin’ insane.” He tells you, his hand running from your side down to your hip. He squeezed once again, hard and rough. Hard enough to leave bruises. “Crazy looks pretty damn good on you, though.” He admits. “Sit in my lap, darlin’.” He tells you, patting his leg. You do so, maneuvering and almost falling flat on your face as you attempt to readjust your position. He chuckles as he watches you, making absolutely no effort to help you.

He was getting off on making you act like a miserable, stumbling fool. And you were getting off on him making you feel like one.

You sat down on his lap, carefully and slowly lowering yourself on him. “There’s a good girl.” He says, grinning and flashing his yellow teeth to you once again. You couldn’t help but smile at his words. A little praise between his sadistic words and actions was the perfect combination of what you truly enjoyed. “Oh, like that do ya?” He asks in amusement.

“I do.” You admit, feeling both of his hands come up to grip your hips tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh hard, gripping you obsessively like he never wanted to let you go.

“I ain’t gonna be gentle. I don’t do gentle. But somethin’ tells me that’s how you like it, ain’t it?” You nod again. You hadn’t been with anyone like this, anyone near his level of danger and excitement. You needed more.

If you were gonna die anyway, then you were gonna go out with a bang.

“You can be as rough as you want to be. I can take it.” You tell him.

“You ain’t been with any man as rough as me. I can promise you that, sweetheart.” One of his hands comes up, sliding from your hip up your side. As he comes up to your breast, he squeezes it tightly in his hand, hissing through his teeth. You let out a soft whimper, biting your lip in response. “Crazy, crazy girl.” He says as both hands come up to grab each breast through your clothes. He squeezes them tightly, sending jolts of pain and pleasure throughout your body. A half moan, half squeal escapes your lips.

“F-fuck..” You stuttered, giving him even more amusement at your struggle. You instinctively rocked your hips against him, but you were too far back on his legs to feel his erection.

“Slide on up closer.” He purred. “Don’t be gettin’ shy on me now.” You did as he told you to, moving your body up further on his lap. You could feel it now. His hard cock pressed against your inner thigh, straining like it was begging to be released from its confines. He watched your bright eyes, tilting his head to the side as he grinned. “Think I’m gonna have to redo these ropes a ‘lil bit.” He quickly and easily removed the ropes that kept your hands and arms still, painfully toward the front of your body.

This was your moment to run. But you didn’t. You felt no desire to leave. You wanted this, needed him. He wanted you just as much. There was no way you were going to run away from this feeling.

“Hands behind your back now, sweetheart.” He said in a low whisper. You did with no hesitation, placing your hands together behind your back. He grinned in amusement. “‘Atta girl.” He praised, leaning close to your face. His hot breath mingled with yours as he skillfully maneuvered the rope behind your back. Without even looking at it, looking into your eyes instead, he somehow managed to tie a perfect knot around your wrists. You were bound, but in a different way. He had full access to the front of your body while you were still kept tied, remaining under his control. He was impressed, humming in response. “Ain’t you just a good ‘lil thing for me? Look at that.” You nodded, the smile reappearing on your face at his praise.

“Mhm.” You affirmed.

“Keep bein’ good for me.” He commanded you as he pulled his knife from the holster at his side.. The one he had just sharpened a few minutes before. Excitement ran through your body as he brought it close to your skin in a teasing manner. He turned the sharp side of the knife away from your body, trailing the back of it over your neck. You shivered as the cold blade gave your now heated body goosebumps as it moved along your skin. He admired it, the way it glided across your skin and left you with the fear of a little slip or a little nick on your skin.

Without much warning, he moved the knife to the bottom of your shirt. He pulled the shirt away from your torso, using the knife to cut the shirt up to your chest like a hot knife through butter. He grunted as he did so, pushing the now torn pieces of your shirt to each side.

“There we go..” He grinned, flicking his tongue in his mouth while he admired what he saw. “Been so long since I seen such pretty, smooth skin like this.” He told you, taking the back of his knife and running it up your stomach. You shivered, watching the sharp side of the blade slowly work its way up your torso. “Still don’t wanna quit?” He asks.

“Fuck, no.” You spat out with a smile. His grin grew wider as he moved the blade up, slicing your bra in the very center of your chest. Your breasts fall from the confines of your bra, the cool air making you shiver as it touches the sensitive skin. Your nipples pebbled quickly, more goosebumps appearing all over your chest.

“Lord have mercy..” He groaned as he admired them. “Look, at, fuckin’, you..” He reiterated, using the broad side of his knife to tap the cold metal against one of your nipples. You shuddered, whimpering as you looked away. You weren’t sure why the sudden shyness took over your body, but it did in an instant. “Ah, ah..” He scolded you, using the point of the knife to pull your face back in his direction. It was so sharp, sharp enough to cut if he pushed even a little bit.. “Don’t look away, sweetheart. You wanted this, so pay attention.” He scolded you, giving you a stern look of warning. It was even more than a warning, it was a threat that you heard loud and clear.

“I’m sorry..” You whimpered, keeping your eyes locked on him now.

“You will be, if you don’t fuckin’ listen.” He warned you again. You nodded in understanding. Tears began to sting your eyes at his harsh words.

But you liked this. You liked that he was being so mean. You felt the heat pooling between your legs at his cruelness, feeling an overwhelming desire to do nothing but please him and hear his praises. He noticed this, watching you closely.

“Now, sweetheart.. You know you made me have to do that.” He reminded you. “You understand?” You nodded, a little sniffle coming from your nose. “Then just be a good girl and listen. Don’t do it again. Don’t like gettin’ all mad at you. That sad ‘lil face almost makes me feel bad.” His knife then enters your pants at the thigh as he begins tearing the fabric away, skillfully avoiding piercing your skin. “I don’t feel bad at all, but it almost makes me feel bad.” He says, grinning at you sadistically.

He was so fucking mean, and you loved every part of it. You wanted to clench your legs together to feel some kind of pressure or friction between your thighs, but you couldn’t. Not while sitting in his lap like this. Maybe that’s why he put you in this position, because he knew there was no way for you to get any relief without him being the one to do it.

He ripped away pieces of fabric from the crotch of your pants as you still sat in his lap. He tore away at the middle, even cutting at the waistband so that he could peel the fabric away from your waist. He was met with your simple pair of panties, hugging your hips just perfectly.

“What, nothin’ special for me?” He asked, mocking your simple choice in undergarments.

“I didn’t know this was-” You began, but he pressed the broad side of his knife to your lips, the cold metal a warning. You shuddered as you stopped and listened.

“It wasn’t a real fuckin’ question. Hush that mouth up, now.” You shivered in delight. He noticed, shaking his head as he slid the blade into your panties at the waistband. “You’re fuckin’ nuts and you don’t listen. We gotta fix one of those things at least, don’t we?” He smiled as he easily sliced the fabric of your panties. He pulled them away with his other hand, tattered and cut apart. They were easy enough for him to pull away from your body, tossing them aside on the floor.

You were mostly exposed to him at this point. Your whole front side was open for his viewing and pleasure. He began hurriedly undoing his own belt and zipper, keeping his eyes on your body as he pulled out his cock. It was more or less like the rest of his skin, and you couldn’t help but be curious what it would feel like inside of you. You felt excitement at his rushing of things. It felt like he needed and wanted you in that moment just as much as you wanted and needed him.

“Now..” He said as he looked up at you. “Take it.” He stated flatly. Your hands were still tied, and you knew that, but you instinctively tried to move them without thinking about it. He rolled his eyes. His hand came up, lightly slapping your cheek like he was trying to get your attention or knock you out of a daze. “Hey. Now I know you can be a ‘lil smarter than that. Lift your fuckin’ hips up.” He commanded. You did with no hesitation, using your knees to lift yourself up just enough. He adjusted his cock on his own, positioning himself right where he needed it to be. “See? Now was that so hard?” He mocked you, pouting his lower lip.

“I’m sorry..” You whimpered again, trembling with desire for him. You were absolutely fucking soaked. Between the attraction, the tension and the way he was talking to you and treating you.. Fuck. It was killing you.

“Sit the fuck down.” He told you, growing impatient with you. You began without hesitation, sliding your pussy down to take his cock. He groaned as you began to envelop him, letting it out through gritted teeth. His cock was hard and almost rigid from his ghoulish transformation. It was just a little different than what you were used to, but still delicious all the same. You slid down and took him in quite easily, your wetness almost already dripping down his cock. “God damn.. Fuck.” He cursed as you bottomed out on him. His eyes opened slowly to look at you again, his tongue moving against his cheek. “‘Atta girl..” He purred to you.

“Fuck..” You whimpered out, taking a moment just to revel in the new sensation. His hand slid up your torso, admiring your body before finding its way to your neck. He held it in his grip, pressing the veins on each side just enough to give you a subtle threat.

“Go on, sweetheart.” He encouraged you. He kept his hand on your throat as you began to move your hips, switching between rocking back and forth and bouncing in his lap. He groaned as he watched you, hissing through his teeth while he kept his hand firmly on your throat. His other hand trailed along your body, running roughly over every inch of your skin. Grabbing, pulling, holding any part of you that he had access to. Your body felt like it was on fire and your knees burned from the hard floor, but it all became an afterthought as you lost yourself in him. “Yeah, take my fuckin’ dick..” He grunted out, encouraging you. His free hand came down to hold your hip, helping your motions. He moved you faster, his grip on your throat tightening. “Come on, darlin’ keep at it.” He began to push his hips up to meet your thrusts. “Good girl..” He growled as he then reached down, aggressively grabbing your hips with both hands. He pulled you down on his cock hard, moving your hips on his own and pounding up into you relentlessly. He was impatient, desperately needing to fuck your brains out.

“Oh, fuck!” You cried out, unable to do anything else as he held you and used you like a toy. He fucked you from below like a wild animal, your body shivering and shaking in pure bliss. The surges of pleasure rushed throughout your whole body, almost making you feel mindlessly stupid and lost in it.

“You’re a fuckin’ filthy whore.” He told you, still thrusting up into you. His words only spurned you on further and further into the pleasure. “Some ghoul asshole takes you to sell, and you fuck him.” He grunts out as he relentlessly pounds you, the obscene sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. “You’re just the kinda dirty girl I like.” He admits, giving you a few more hard thrusts. You were overwhelmed with the sensations, every sense you had been pushed to the brink of what you could handle. Without any warning, he gave you a final thrust. A deep, hard thrust that felt like the head of his cock was kissing your cervix. He held your body down on him, forcing you to feel his cock twitch deep within you. Forcing you to take every single drop of his cum. “Fffffuuuccckkkkkk..” He groaned loudly, pumping out the last few spurts of cum into you. His eyes were closed, but as he finished, he opened them once again to get a good look at you. Your cheeks were red, your head was wet with sweat, and your eyes were glazed over with pleasure. “Ain’t felt like that in a long fuckin’ time..” He recalled, running a hand up your side from your hip.

It took you a bit to even respond. You were so lost in all of it that it took you a few moments to recover your mind from being stuck in the clouds. You sat there in his lap, breathing heavily and groaning as you kept his cock inside of you, taking every drop of his seed that you could possibly squeeze out of him.

“Me either..” You manage to choke out, still stuttering and trying to form your words properly. You were both breathing heavily, coming down from the high of what just transpired between you two.

As your breathing began to relax, you listened. You noticed that the radiation storm had died down just a bit, but was still creating havoc outside. The wind and the rain would still make for plenty of damage and destruction, even without the thunder and lightning. The Ghoul adjusted himself against the wall, moving his back up a bit. He had slid down just a little in the middle of your violent fucking. You attempted to lift yourself off of his lap, but he protested by holding your hips in place.

“Ah, ah.” He scolded you once again, giving you a stern warning look. “You’re just gonna sit there like that ‘n look pretty.” He told you. “Got it?”

“Mhm..” You said quietly as you nodded. It was still uncomfortable to be like this, but you wanted to stay. Your knees were on fire, your hips and legs were on the verge of cramping.. But you wanted to stay in his lap like this.

There was a long silence as you both recovered. Something in this moment gave you a brief feeling of contentment. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time. He seemed to feel the same, sitting there in total silence with you.

You wanted to kiss him. He fucked you, but he hadn’t even kissed you. Feeling bold for this one small moment, you leaned forward in an attempt to kiss him. His hand came up, grabbing your face hard.

“The fuck are you doin’?” He asked, wary of your intentions. He squeezed your cheeks in his fingers, forcing you to speak through your squished lips.

“I just.. I wanted to kiss you.” You admitted to him. His gaze never changed from the hardened one, but you could tell that he liked what you said.

“You still ain’t giving up, are ya?” He asked you, squeezing even harder.

“I’m not because I didn’t fake any of this.” You remind him. “I’m not trying to escape. I haven’t tried, not once. Even when I could have.” He pauses, looking at your face as if he were examining it. He moved it with his hand, back and forth, back and forth..

“Ya know.. You might be a lot more valuable to me if I just keep you locked up down here.” He said, watching your face for a reaction. “Whaddya think?”

“You can do whatever you want with me, Ghoul.” You addressed him in an unfamiliar manner, unsure of what else to call him. You’d never been told his real name before.

“Cooper.” He told you.

“You can.. Do whatever you want with me, Cooper.” You said, saying the words once more with his name. You offered him a sweet smile, a real and genuine smile, to try and curb any fears or worries in his mind. As he saw you smile, he pulled your face to his. His rough, scarred lips pressed against your soft and gentle ones. It was only a small kiss, a fleeting moment of kindness and feeling from. But it meant more to you than anything you’d felt in a long time. You knew you’d really have to work to earn more kisses from him.

“Think I might just keep you and find another victim instead.” He said, grinning widely. You wanted to kiss him again so badly, but you held back.

“Keep me here?” You asked.

“Yep. Would you run on me?” He asked, looking deeply into your eyes.

“No.” You said honestly.

“Still think you’re nuttier than a squirrel turd. But I think I believe you.” He admitted. You paused, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“What the hell is a squirrel?” You questioned, awkwardly laughing. He grinned, huffing out a small laugh.

“Oh, what in the fuckin’ hell am I doin’?” He asked himself as he looked into your eyes. “Hush up and give me those lips again, sweetheart.”

All my links

[the-bi-fangirl-biatch]

honestly though? comedy and norm's protectiveness for lucy aside, i think he and cooper would get along very well. unlike licy, norm's more of a realist. he didn't excel in lots of jobs like lucy did, and he never even showed interest in any job even if he WAS good at it like with technology.

he doubted the vault system from the start. he killed the raiders with rat poison in their food. he brought chet to investigate the previous vaults, and even broke into the overseer communications to get to the other vaults. he isn't this disillusioned person who was overly friendly and saccharine, like lucy. i think, after everything, cooper would admire his courage and critical nature.

This tweet made me laugh so I drew it out

https://x.com/bloodyprimavera/status/1799572219833544897?s=46

[youngtacoes]

Strangers, no more

Cooper Howard aka The Ghoul x f!reader

Author's note: this is a long one !! i've had this scenario in my head for a long ass time and i just had to get it out on paper. cooper isn't as cruel in this one, sorry if that's not your thing, but he can be soft sometimes too! fyi: reader is 18+ and everything is consensual! If you're only here for the smut you can skip toward the end.

Word count: 6,8k

Summary: Cooper is a bounty hunter struggling for caps and you need to be transported safely across the wasteland in "good condition", luckily it pays well. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: 18+ Mentions of r*pe, impregnation & torture, religious cult, angst, virgin!reader, losing virginity, graphic smut

~

It was getting bad, really damn bad. Days of good-for-nothing bounty jobs, vial after vial, cough attack after cough attack. He needed the caps desperately if he was to keep himself from turning feral anytime soon. He’d been taking small jobs here and there, just enough to keep himself at bay for a few days, but he knew he couldn’t keep going at this rate for much longer. He needed a bigger job, a bigger cash prize, a bigger bounty, but every time he stopped by the wall of people with prizes attached to them, he found himself disappointed in how low the numbers were. That is until he notices a fresh face staring back at him, hidden behind newer posters, large letters displayed across. "BIG JOB", and this one has an even larger number attached.

He steps forward, pushing the other posts away and rips the new face off the wall to study the number closer. Yup, he read it right.

Five thousand caps.

"Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered.

A young girl, maybe in her 20s. She looks well put together, innocent, and has a sincere smile on her face. For the first time in a very, very long time, he found himself wondering what her story was and why she was worth so damn much, but he didn’t like to dwell on it for too long. A job is a job, and this was going to be worth every damn cap.

On the poster, it states that she was to get picked up at the coordinates provided and to keep her in "good condition". Well, shit, that might just be the hardest part. The ghoul had never been one to take care of his captives, and most often he preferred if the poster stated "good dead or alive". This was definitely going to be different, and if it wasn’t for the "good condition" detail, he’d almost think it was too good to be true. Perhaps even think it was a trap.

~

It’s midnight, and you’re seated by your desk with a pen in hand, drawing carefully and concentrated on making art on this dirty sheet of old newspaper, but it was good enough for you. You drew flowers and insects from an old pre-war book about nature and their hidden treasures. You were always fascinated by the pre-war times, and though you will never know what it was truly like, you liked to imagine who you would’ve been back in those times.

It’s your way of forgetting about the current state of your life and the predicament you found yourself in. You were born in the wasteland, to a mother who did her best to protect you, but in the end, she had been brutally murdered by a group of raiders who attacked your farm, and you were taken captive by them at the age of 9. You spent a few horrid days with them before your current group found you and bought your freedom from them.

To be fair, you’ve been treated quite well by this group, and you thought you had a family in them at one point. That was until a few months ago when they decided you needed to be isolated from the rest for reasons you still didn’t quite understand. The leader of the group, Margot, had carefully selected you for a special assignment, and made sure to tell you the isolation was for your own good. Apparently you needed special treatment before a long journey to a sacred place called Halfway that was waiting for your arrival.

Your fellow peers would come and visit you to show their excitement, though you didn’t quite understand it, it must be something good with all the positive buzz that’s surrounding you. So your head got filled with all sorts of scenarios and dreams of where you were going and what luxuries you were to experience on this assignment. Though you had your doubts that it was all just a coverup for something else, you didn’t have any reason not to trust your group. They had been nothing but kind to you as long as you’d been there.

You’re startled out of your thoughts by heavy knocks on your locked door and a command shouted from behind.

"Lights out!"

You sigh at the command. "Yes madam!"

You don't bother packing up your drawing supplies, you'll be continuing with it tomorrow anyway, and the day after, probably. You find your bed and blow out the nearby candles.

Every night you can't help but wonder when your assignment and journey would begin. You had all sorts of feelings and questions about it, but every time you tried talking to Margot, she would give you answers that didn’t really answer anything at all, so you gave up on trying to figure it out a long time ago.

~

The next morning you’re awaken rudely by the guards coming into your room and practically dragging you out of bed in your dazed state.

"Wha- HEY-" you try to muster what’s going on, but before even getting a word out, you’re on your feet and Margot stands before you with her hands on her back.

"Morning lucky one. It’s time, the day we have waited long for is finally here," She's so serious in her delivery, it almost frightens you.

It’s happening.

"We’ve hired someone to transport you safely across the wasteland for your assigment, they’re here and won’t be kept waiting. Get ready in 5 and say your goodbyes, quickly."

Suddenly it feels like it’s all happening too fast, and a slight panic rise inside you. Margot must've notices your panicked stare, cause her features soften, and she steps closer to you.

"You’ve come so far, and I’m so proud of you,» She smiles at you with encouragement, "This is your moment, and I know you will succeed and make us all proud."

Her words give you enough to calm down before the panic escalated. And you give her a nod that you indeed got this. You can do this. You’ve done hard things before, this shouldn’t be any different.

"Yes madam," you say smiling back at her. She flashes you one last smile and a wink before turning and walking back out.

Outside you find everyone from your group waiting in the corridors. They smile at you, some coming to greet you, give you kisses on the cheek as you’re led out of the main building by the guards. It’s all a bit much, but this must be pretty big deal. Margot waits for you by the gate to your commune, but she's not alone. A dark figure stands just outside, looking impatient.

You’re filled with scepticism as you walk up them, but you have to put your trust in her. She notices you and takes a hold of your hands with a smile.

"You will do great," And the wave of panic that had a hold of you before, washes off of you completely. You nod confidently now, and you start believing that this is actually gonna be totally fine.

You feel the dark figure moving closer to you, his hat covering his face just enough to keep him anonymous for the time being. He still looks terrifying, but you have to trust this man is here only to protect you on your journey to Halfway, and that he will do his best to do so.

Margot shoots the man one last look, "Good condition," the man still doesn’t show his face, but he nods.

"Yes ma’am. Let’s go princess," You realize he’s talking to you, and you’re startled by the nickname at first, but you decide not to fuzz, at least not yet. He’s already started walking away, so you find yourself running up behind him, waving back to your leader for the last time, only she doesn’t wave back, she doesn’t even flash a smile. She stares back at you with a stern look as the gates to the commune come to a close.

It doesn’t give you the best feeling, but perhaps she was feelings sad you were leaving and didn’t want to show any emotions. Either way, you try to push the sight out of your mind, doing your best to follow the stranger. He doesn’t say a word for a long time, and you find that maybe it’s best we keep to ourselves for the time being, but as an hour or so go by, you find yourself a little curious.

You clear your throat, "Excuse me, sir?"

He doesn’t reply, but shoots a quick look over his shoulder to indicate that he’s listening.

"How long do you think we’ll be walking for?"

Given that Margot had given you absolutely no information about this journey, you figured it was worth a shot to ask your new strange companion.

"Couple’a days, if we don’t get sidetracked," His voice ragged, western, serious.

"Oh," not really sure if you dared asking for further details. You’d prefer to keep it peaceful for as long as possible, but you find the courage to ask anyway.

"Sidetracked by what?"

You hear him sigh, "Unnecessary bullshit."

‘Whatever that means’ you think to yourself. He doesn’t seem like the talkative type, but after months of isolation you find yourself rather desperate for someone to talk to, and if you are to spend days with this man, you figure it’s worth a shot trying to get to know him for whatever time you have to spend together.

"I see.. I’ll be on the lookout for that I suppose."

You can barely believe your ears when you hear a chuckle coming from the stranger in front of you.

After that positive feedback, you find yourself braver.

"I didn’t catch your name?"

His posture changes after the question left your mouth.

"I didn’t give to ya,"

"Well, I’m Y/N, but everyone calls me Lucky. It’s a bit of a recent nickname though. You see, I just spend 6 months in completely isolation-"

You get cut off abruptly when you find yourself crashing into the strangers back, realizing he's come to an complete halt. He turns around, his figure towering slightly over you. His hat is no longer doing it’s job to cover his face, and utter horror washes over you as it's fully visable in the golden hour light.

"Listen sweetheart, I’m here to do this goddamn job. I don’t wanna hear your whole life story, and you sure as hell won’t be hearing mine. How about we keep our histories to ourselves and try to get this over with as quickly as fucking possible. That sound good to you?"

Your eyes aren’t able to leave his face. His sunken eyes, skin looking like it's been melted by the sun, an obvious nose missing. A ghoul, a ghoul is transporting you. You’ve not met a ghoul before, and those you’ve heard stories of have been grotesque. Fair enough they had been feral, but who’s to say this one won’t turn?

You get the gist of what he’s saying, and simply nod in agreement, not wanting to make this trip any more uncomfortable than it already is.

His eyes bore into your own, and he’s a lot closer than you’d prefer. For a second you think his eyes dart down to your lips before he turns around to keep walking, but that would be crazy, and very disturbing.

~

Nightfall comes fast, and you’re finding yourself worried for where you’ll be sleeping for the night. You really don’t wanna ask the ghoul, but your steps are getting shorter and slower, and you think the Ghoul have noticed cause he starts walking off track and leads you to a broken down abandoned house off the road.

"Stay here," he says before entering the house, gun up, ready to shoot. You do as he says and wait patiently for him to clear the coast. It doesn’t take long before you hear squealing and two shots being fired. You’re not sure whether to go in or run, but it doesn't matter anyway cause you freeze up completely in these situations. All you can do is hope that the ghoul knows what he's doing.

He comes back to the door a few minutes later, gesturing for you to come in, you’re hesitant, but you do. It's not like you have much of a choice anyway, "What was the shooting about?"

In his left hand he holds a dead radroach, and you find yourself wondering why he’s holding it. That's so fucking gross.

"You should be grateful. I got us some lunch the road," he says, flashing you a smirk. It's almost like he knew you’d be repulsed by it.

"Uhm, y’know what? I think I’m good, for the time being." You try to be nice, but you feel like you might not have a say in the matter. This might be the only food you get for a while.

"Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make a fire and we’ll put it on the grill."

You want to roll your eyes and complain, but you force yourself to give him a smile and if anything, show some appreciation. He did in fact just catch you a meal.

You’re able to swallow some of the grilled radroach, but after the fresh foods you had grown accustomed to from your commune, you found this hard to stomach.

Nightfall has fallen completely now, and you’ve done your best to make a comfortable sleeping spot by the fire. The ghoul sits nearby keeping watch, and you find yourself very curious of his past and who he is, or who he used to be. Thinking back to his speech earlier about keeping your histories to yourselves reminds you not to ask, but he didn’t say anyting about asking about where you were going.

"What do you know about Halfway?" You watch him closely for any hints he migth give away, "Is it as grand as everyone makes it out to be?" You lay on your side, arm resting under your head.

He doesn’t look at you, eyes fixated on the fire. "How about you get some rest, alright?" he avoids your question. How annoying.

You turn to lay on your back with a puff of annoyance. «Nobody wants to tell me anything,"

"Maybe there's a reason for that."

You turn to look at him, his eyes still not meeting yours. "What is that supposed to mean?" By the sound of it, nothing good.

"Look it's not my job to inform you of shit, and if your leader wanted you to know, trust me darling, she would've told ya."

His eyes flicker up to look directly at yours this time, and it catches you off guard. Not knowing what else to say, you decide to turn to your side, away from him. This whole thing is giving you a really bad feeling.

You’re back on track the next day. Your legs sore from the day before. Having been in isolation for 6 months will do that to you, you guessed, but you'll manage.

The ghoul hasn't said a word yet today, and though you didn't exactly get the answers you were looking for last night, you refused to give up completely.

"What did Margot mean when she said good condition?"

He doesn’t answer, of course he doesn’t. You sigh,

"Look, I don’t mean to be annoying. Truly, I’d just like to know what is waiting for me. That’s all, and I really don't see the harm in that." Still nothing.

"Hey! It’s not kind to ignore someone when they're talking to y-" The ghoul quickly turns, a rope firm in his hands. Where did that come from? He grabs your hands, tying them together before you’re able to protest.

"Hey- what’re you doing!?" You look at him in disbelief, anger and panic all in one.

"Trust me, it’s for your own good," You laugh at that, yeah right. Before you’re able to mock him, he takes out a piece of cloth and wraps it around your head, specially over your mouth, and it's keeping you from saying what's on your mind. For a second you’re actually fearing for your life.

"Listen, gorgeous. We’re about to pass through some dangerous territory, and the people in these parts would do a lot to get their hands on a pretty litte thing like yourself. You follow my lead and keep your mouth shut, can you do that for me?"

You look for any lies in his eyes, but you genuinely believe him. It’s not like you can argue against him anyway, but you put your trust in him and give a nod in response.

You walk for a short while longer before you actually start seeing other people on your path. They seem rough around the edges. Hostile, but not aggressive, yet anyway. You walk past a few who seem to be intrigued, but not interested enough to take their chance at battle with the ghoul. That is until a few of them start gathering in front of you. Four men stand before your path, making it impossible to keep walking without confrontation.

"Gentlemen, how do you do?" The ghoul seems to do his best to keep it friendly, not wanting to create an unnecessary conflict with precious cargo at risk.

"What’ve you got for us ghoul?" As you observe, you can tell some of them are clearly on heavy combat inhancing chems, might be a harder fight if it comes down to it.

"Delivery, to Halfway. Can’t lose this one I’m afraid." He says it so confidently, completely standing his ground, but still keeping it non threatening. The men seem intrigued, and even exchange laughs between themselves. You wonder what they find so funny.

"That religious sacrifice place? What a lucky girl,"

"Seems like she’s up for a hell of a good time,"

"Fellas, if you don’t mind, we’re on a bit of a tight schedule," The ghoul tries to interrupt their 'friendly' chatter, but to no avail.

"They only take virgins up there don’t they? That’s like their whole point?" One of the guys ask the other three.

"Yeah, it’s some crazy religious cult. They torture them and impragnate them for like 10 years or something, or at least that’s what I’ve heard."

You freeze at their words. That can’t be it. That’s not what’s been told to you. They’re joking, making it up to scare you. It’s not true.

"Crazy rich though, you must be getting a lot of caps for this huh?" Suddenly their tone is not so friendly anymore, but the ghoul doesn’t budge. He keeps his hand on his holstered gun, the other holding the rope that binds your hands.

"Lucky for you, we’re not looking to take her off your hands. This time anyway," They laugh once more, patting the ghoul on his shoulder before walking off, letting you pass. He pulls on the rope to shake you out of your frozen state, and you jolst forward, trying to keep up with him. But you're disassociating, not paying a single mind to anything around you. You're too much in your head about what was just said, and you'd like to say you didn't believe a single word, but for some reason you do.

You keep walking in silence, time becomes irrelevant when you're all up in your head. You don’t notice the radstorm closing in, nor the rain that has already started pouring. If anything is in your favor, it's that you pass by a town with an abandoned pre-war hotel that offer a room for 100 caps a night. For whatever reason, the ghoul decides to do that for you. You don’t ask questions, you don't care to.

Soaked, shivering and your legs just barely keeping you up anymore, the ghoul places you down on the couch in the room given to you. You let him guide you, and for once, you're glad he doesn't have much to say. He lowers himself down in front of you and starts taking off the disgusting saliva soaked cloth from your mouth.

You wipe your mouth your hand, "Thank you."

He keeps his mouth shut and starts working on untying the rope from your hands. You watch him crouched before you, he's being gentle when removing the knots. A horrifying reminder of what you won't be experiencing at Halfway, if the men from earlier was telling the truth that is. This thought is what breaks you, and the tears start trickling down your tired face. There's no point holding it back anymore.

He's looking at you, so clearly trying to hide the concern on his face as he stands up and walks to the door.

"I’ll head down to the square to look for some food,"

Whatever.

Your silence is making him uncomfortable, so he leaves. You stay seated, replaying the words spoken between the men from earlier, over and over in your head.

Everyone you knew had made Halfway seem like such an amazing place. That you were lucky to be going, you were chosen. The thought makes you want to throw up.

You don’t register that the ghoul is back, fresh mutfruits placed in front of you on the coffee table, and though you are starving, you can’t bring yourself to even eat one.

"Eat," he says sternly. You just shake your head.

"M’not hungry," you sniffle, drying your tears with the palm of your hand.

"It’s not nice to lie, sweetheart. You haven’t had anything to eat since the damn radroach. Eat," He's trying to act concerned, but you don't believe it for a second. You scoff and look up to meet his eyes, and he’s looking right back at you, an annoyed expression on his face. You can’t believe this guy.

"Why do you care if I eat or not? Let me be," You're so tired, and all you want is to sleep. Gradually rising from the couch, you head towards the bed.

"Please," his plead makes you stop in your tracks.

"Please eat, you're really gonna need the strength," he seems desperate, almost.

You turn around to see him standing motionless by the coffee table, clearly attempting to compose himself.

"No," you're stern in your reply.

He's growing increasingly annoyed, angry even, because he knows he can't force you or harm you in any way.

"Whatever good condition means, I’m sure they'll be pleased as long as I’m alive, right?" Your voice gradually getting louder. "Being that their plan is to torture me for 10 years and all, they must have lots of stimpacks around to keep me alive enough to birth their whole next generation of psychos, don't you think?" Tears start falling.

"Don’t make me beg again," His eyes are shut, as if he's trying to block out your words, as if they affect him somehow. what a fucking joke.

"You’re so afraid you won’t get your paycheck. Well fuck you, and fuck the caps they’re paying you for this," you say it with so much pain and hatred, and you’re sure you’ll regret it later but you don’t have an inch of fuck to give at the moment.

Suddenly you see his angry features fall, and he catches himself in a cough. It's grotesque, and it seems to be getting worse with each one. He looks at you with disrepair, and you can tell he's struggling to catch his breath. You don't know what to do, but you're getting scared for him now. It looks horrifying, but before you're able to come to his aid, he scurries out the room.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. What just happened? A part of you wanted to run after him to make sure he was okay, but at the same time you wouldn't mind too much if he left and never came back. Shaking, you decide to tuck yourself into the left side of the bed. Trying not to think about how dirty it is, you curl yourself into a ball and cry out every last drop.

You’re never able to fall asleep, the tears just keep coming. You thought about running away, but knowing that the ghoul was getting paid a lot for this job, he would likely find you again in no time. What would be the point?

Your sobs are suddenly interrupted by the door opening, and you quiet yourself down to listen closely to every sound. The sound of the ghouls boots scraping the floor as he makes his way to the couch, his coat and gear getting thrown down on it. You decide to pretend that you’re already asleep as you hear him make his way to the bed. Feeling it dip slightly as he lay down in it.

But your cover is blown when you sniffle from the snot in your nose. You damn yourself as a sigh from the stranger fills the room, and you start feeling embarrassed about the way you treated him earlier. It’s not him you should be angry at, if anything it’s Margot and your group. The ghoul is just doing his job, to collect a price which he must need desperately, you can’t really blame him. He owes you nothing.

"Cooper," his raspy voice turned soft for a second.

"What?"

"My name is Cooper, some call me Coop. Whichever rolls of your tongue the best."

You feel awful now, "I’m sorry," Wiping away the tears and the snot to the best of your ability.

"For what sweetheart?" He sounds like he already knows what you’re apologising for, but decides to ask anyway for his own amusement.

"For cursing you out, it’s not your fault, and I shouldn’t blame you," You say, already feeling better for apologizing.

You both stay silent for a while, only sniffles from your nose filling the room. It’s embarrassing, you feel like such a child.

"C’mere darling," He says it in such a soft way. You can barely believe your ears. Looking over your shoulders you see him looking at you, only the dim light of a burning candle nearby to light your surroundings. He’s on his back, gesturing with his hand for you to lay in the crook of his arm. You contemplate it for a second, but it doesn’t take much convincing if you’re being honest. You’d take any form of comfort to make you forget this whole thing, even for just a night.

You turn around, inching closer under the sheets, finding a comfortble spot in the crook of his neck, your head resting on his arm. You’ve never been this close to someone except your mom when you were younger. It’s scary in a way, being this vulnerable and intimate with someone you barely know.

Your breaths are shallow, thoughts racing through your mind and it’s making your heart is beat so fast. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, his body doesn’t give anything away.

You lay like this for a while, just a few dry sniffles and breaths heard between you. You recognize the closeness of him.

But you want to get even closer. You want him wrapped around you and have him absorb your whole being. It may come from having learned that you have extreme trauma waiting for you, and you can’t help but want to experience something good and genuine before that.

Your breaths become heavier, deeper, and you feel yourself wanting something; wanting him. This could go terribly wrong, but what exactly do you have to lose? Fuck it. You push away the what if's and inch your face closer to Cooper’s neck, your hands find themselves carefully making their way to his chest. He doesn’t react, and from what you can tell, he doesn't seem to mind.

You see his breathing stop, and you’re feeling brave. So you test the waters, gently sliding your hand up to his chest, letting them glide across his shirt. While your lips carefully grace the rough skin on his neck. You hear him puff out the air he’s been holding in while curiously letting letting you wander, but he doesn’t seem to resist.

When he doesn’t stop you, it’s easy to find the courage to keep going. Your hand wanders further down his chest, stomach, but he catches your hand right before it reaches the hem of his pants.

"What do you think you’re doin'?" He doesn't sound disappointed, more so curious. You feel a bit embarrassed, but you stand your ground, like you've already stated, you’ve got nothing to lose.

"Please Coop," just a whisper in his ear, "Please show me what it’s meant to feel like", a plea, practically begging.

He can’t help but let out a low growl, obviously turned on by the thought. "I’m meant to deliver you as a virgin, sweetheart."

You want to cry again, a sob brewing deep in your throat. "Please, they won’t know- They won’t find out," Your lips find his neck again, leaving trails of kisses up to his jawline, tongue swirling along the rough surface. You never thought you would find yourself in this position 2 days ago, but here you were, begging for a bounty hunter, a ghoul, to take your virginity.

Lucky for you, he seems to be out of fucks to give and lets go of your hand after only a few seconds of thinking it over. You don’t hesitate to let your free hand go under his shirt to feel his skin. It’s so textured, but you don’t mind. You’ve never touched anyone this way before, there wasn't much to compare it to.

Your hand travel lower until it finds a buldge. Being that this is your first time being intimate with somone, you’re startled by the unfamiliarity of it at first. But it doesn't take you long to realize that you were the reason for his cock hardening, and that turned you on more than anything.

Cooper, who's been laying still for some time now, has clearly been contemplating if he should stop this whole ordeal or not. He wants to touch you so bad, show you how good he can make you feel. Have you shaking with pleasure because of him, but he seems to let you be in control for the time being. You didn't mind, and it gave you some reassurance that this wouldn't be rushed, nor that he would force you to do something you didn't want to.

Your hands are shaking at this point as you try to unbotton his pants, and Cooper can't help but to give you a hand in your already broken state. You’re eager, and waste no time removing your own.

"Get over here darlin'," he says with that gentle voice again, gesturing for you to straddle his hips. His length is exposed now, and you feel yourself getting nervous with anticipation. You find it hard to believe that he's gonna fit inside you, it seems impossible.

Yet, you gain the confidence to sit up and make your way across his lap. You're not sure where to sit specifically, but you want to study him further and therefore straddle his thighs. His cock in view in front of you, laid across his stomach, stiff and drooling. Cooper doesn't say anything, but he watches you carefully, wondering what your next move will be. You don't pay attention to him for now.

You do however find yourself curious, and grab the length in front of you. It's warm, and you circle a thumb across the top where it's drooling a clear liquid. You hear him hum under you, an approval of the gesture you just performed. Butterflies take over your stomach, and you feel throbbing in your lower area. You want his cock so desperately inside you now, just to hear those sounds from him again.

"Sit up for me'," the gruffness of his voice draws your attention to him. You obliged without hesitation, "Scoot closer," and you do, of course you do.

He stretches a hand down between your thigs and you're on your knees straddling his hips. Rough fingers run between your folds and they run smoothly.

"Well fuck me, you really want this huh?" He's teasing you now. You nod frantically.

"Use your words sweetheart," He inserts a finger in your untouched hole. You gulp at the sensation, "Yes- yes I do-".

He hums again, moving the finger inside you, bending and stroking. It feels strange, but not painful. "I know you do honey, but I need to make sure you can handle me first, alright?"

You nod frantically, you knew already that you were prepared to do anything he wanted. "Yes, sir,"

Without warning he adds another finger, and it's starting to sting a little. You try to control your breathing as he starts moving them in and out of you, "I know it hurts baby, but it's only for a lil while. You trust me, don't you?"

You nod again, "Yes- Fuck!" He was getting agressive with it now, but he's hitting a spot you didn't know existed and it's sending you to other dimensions in your mind. Your eyes are rolling back while his fingers work hard between your thighs. It's unlike anything you've felt before.

"There we go.. You're gonna be so good for me aren't you, princess?" His words barely register as you find yourself gripping his arm and holding on for dare life to not lose your balance.

"Mhm- y- yes," and before you knew it, his hand is removed from between your folds and you're left heaving for your breath and trying to focus your vision again.

"I think you know what to do, darlin'," You need him badly now, even more now that you know what pleasures are waiting.

You place yourself over his cock, and Cooper watches in patiently as he puts his hands on your thighs, stroking them gently.

You grab his length and place it under your opening, ready to lower yourself on him. "Slow now," he warns as you as his tip meets your entrance, before letting it slip in just an inch. You both hiss, him with pleasure, you with pain.

"That’s it, doll," He keeps his eyes on you as you wince in pain. Taking deep breaths as your hole adjusts itself to his full size, but you’re feeling impatient and start pushing yourself even further despite the burning sensation. You figure it’s better to get it over with as fast as possible so you can actually start enjoying this.

Cooper hums, "Patience sweetheart," you lock eyes with him, and he genuinely seems to care. He lets you have complete control over this, not pushing any limits, and it makes you feel even more aroused, being in charge; seeing his eyes roll back with edged pleasure, yet doing nothing to force his way in.

You feel comfortable enough to start moving now, and you do your best not to squeal when you feel it burn and sting. Finally your skin touch, your ass gracing his thighs, and though it’s still stinging a bit, you can feel his whole length inside you, and it drives you mad.

"Just like that, princess," You hear his soft grunts below, and it reminds you to start moving. Slowly easing yourself off him, just to lower back down again, trying to find the right pace and angle for it to hit the right spot. It doesn't take long before you feel Cooper bucking his hips just ever so slightly to help you out, and he does. He knew exactly how to thurst his cock to give you the extreme pleasure you were searching for.

"More- please," you moan, your hands find his chest to lean on. Nails digging into his already ragged skin.

"God, you feel so fuckin' good around me, darling," His hips buck into you again, pulling himself almost all the way out before slamming himself back inside you. It's rough, and his hands have found your ass to grab to help move you to his rhythm. You're dazed, eyes barely open from sheer pleasure radiating deep inside you. It's making your breath hitched, and your moans spurt out in cries.

"My- fuckn'- god-" you struggle to draw a proper breath, your vision is blurred and rolled back, barely open.

He’s grunting with pleasure beneath you, seeing you completely lost to the way his cock fills your tight cunt, the next time rougher than last. You both sense that you're getting closer to an edge, and that’s when you realize how lightheaded you are, probably from the lack of food you’ve had today, and Coop notices how your figure slowly droops with exhaustion.

"Woah easy darling-" You feel him sit up under you, and without much effort he sits up and holds you tight to his chest, flipping you over on your back in a swift motion.

You would act surprised, but you’re too lightheaded and close to a climax that you don’t react at all. You feel his head in the crook of your neck, breathing heavy and groaning into your ear as he pushes himself deep and steady inside you. Your moans are soft, almost silent, barely there, not enough energy to show him how good he’s making you feel. But you think he gets it, if anything he can see it in how your eyes roll back, how flushed your cheeks are, and feel how your walls are squeezing tightly around him.

"You gonna be a good girl and finish all over my cock, princess?" You feel a hand reach under your chin, placed firmy on your throat, a tight squeeze is applied as you feel his hot breath on your cheek. Sloppy kisses, and a traveling tongue, licking off all your sweat and tears. Having him so near and in control of your breathing makes you feel unbelievably hot. He could kill you right now, right at your high, and you wouldn't mind at all.

"I think I'm- Coop I'm gonna-," you’re whisper in his ear, and it only fuels him more.

He lifts your leg higher, hooking it over his free arm as he goes even deeper. "Show me how fuckin' good I make you feel, sweetheart,"

And with that you think you’re about to pass out, but instead you’re hit with the intense feeling of something combursting inside you. Your head slams back, and your hands reach up to grab the headboard of the bed, your knuckles turning white from the grip. You're dazed, exhausted, feeling the lingering pleasure from your orgasm still present inside your throbbing cunt. Cooper helps you ride out the orgasm in a slower pace while coming up close to his own.

"There you go doll, it's all right," His hand leaves your throat and he unhooks your leg to find your waist, placing them on each side. He's leaning back on his knees as he pumps himself into you, softly, slowly. Soft groans leaves his lips in heavy and hitched breaths as he gets closer.

Seeing you so beautifully dishevelled and limp beneath him, he starts guiding your exhausted body with his hands, pulling you onto his cock, using it to finish himself off. You allow him, cause you enjoy watching him his chest rise with every breath he takes. His eyes rolling back with pleasure from feeling your walls pulsate with each thrust, and with one last squeeze from you, he reaches his own climax.

His hands are grabbing your waist so tightly you can feel the bruises forming already, but all you can focus on is his heaving chest, and his exposed throat as his head is thrown back. Soft grunts and curses filling the room, and you imagine his eyes closed with painfully pleasurable bliss, all caused by you.

He rides out his own orgasm and tries to settle his breathing before he lifts himself off you. He doesn't look at you, but climbs tiredly out of the bed to readjust his clothing. You’re so sleepy, greasy, smelly, but you don't care. You're high, and happy.

You watch him at the edge of the bed, and you utter a soft 'Thank you', just to let him know you're grateful for risking the success of the job. You were meant to be delivered as a virgin after all.

You hear him chuckle from the foot of the bed, you guessed he’d never gotten a ‘thank you for fucking me’ from anybody before, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

"Close your eyes and get some sleep, alright?" Hell, he doesn’t need to tell you twice.

"I think that’s a good idea," You’re not really sure if the words ever left your mouth, being that you’re practically half asleep already. But you do notice the bed dipping slightly next to you, and how you’re gently being pushed on your side. Followed by something warm pressed up against your back, and gentle kisses being placed along your exposed neck.

What tomorrow brings doesn't matter in this moment.

Part 2?

[ghoulsbounty]

First of all, I love 'From a previous life'. It's so well written and brings me so much joy to read.

That being said, I'm very excited to see you're taking requests.

Could we get a scenario where Cooper and fem, ex-vaulty reader find an almost abandoned vault when seeking shelter from an oncoming rad storm. After clearing it out- of most threats, they get comfortable and reader decides to give cooper a taste of the finer things in life. They could get power going, potentially shower (together?) Have a meal they didn't have to hunt, sleep in an actual bed, etc.

Could involve cuddling, smut, playfulness or whatever, I just love the thought of rough and tough Cooper getting all soft as he finally gets to indulge himself for the first time in over 200 years.

Please and thank you <3

What Happens Tonight

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Ex-Vaultie!Reader (fem)

Summary: You proposition the Ghoul whilst taking shelter during a radstorm.

Warnings: smut (18+), shower-sex, clothed sex (party of one), p in v, swearing, flirting, angst, canon-typical violence, mutual pining, rejection, emotionally stunted Cooper, slight mentions of appearance anxiety (Cooper), tiny hint at selling reader for vials (blink and you miss it)

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: Anon, thank you so much for such a lovely, detailed request (my first!) I hope I've managed to meet your expectations, and thank you for the kind words on From A Previous Life, I'm so glad you're enjoying it. I'd love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

👉Read part two HERE👈

The Ghoul's voice echoed through the steel corridors of the vault as he fired off another round into the oncoming horde of feral ghouls. "So much for being abandoned!" he shouted over his shoulder, his words barely audible over the cacophony of growls and moans. His gun raised, he braced himself for another wave.

You reacted instinctively, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you kicked out, your boot connecting with the hanging jaw of a ghoul that leaped at you. The sickening crunch of bone halted it's advance momentarily, giving the bullet from your gun time to find its mark, silencing it permanently. Blood sprayed across your face, warm and sticky as it settled on your skin, but there was no time to dwell on it.

Fumbling with the bandolier across your chest, you frantically grabbed at a bullet to reload your gun. "I didn't hear you coming up with anything," you retorted, eyes wide as another ghoul descended upon you with alarming speed, its ghastly form illuminated by the flickering lights of the vault.

It swiped at your outstretched arm, the gun flying from your grip and landing with a metallic clash against the steel floor. The ghoul lunged towards you with a guttural snarl, its rotten teeth gnashing dangerously close to your neck, and you fell backwards under it's weight in a surge of panic. Your heart pounded in your chest as you grappled with the creature, holding it inches away from your face, your hand pressing desperately against its corroded neck.

Salvation came in the form of a single bullet piercing through the air, entering and leaving the feral ghoul's skull in a clean strike. The creature's movements ceased abruptly, its lifeless form collapsing against your grip. You exhaled a shaky breath, relief flooding through you as you begun to push it away, its decaying remnants staining your body and the ground beneath you.

"Well, I'm damn sure it would have been better than this," the Ghoul remarked, his voice tinged with irritation as he kicked the lifeless body away from you. He turned his attention back to the remaining two feral ghouls, his gaze hardening with determination. "Fuckin' steel tomb. Don't know why I agreed to this," he muttered under his breath, raising his sawed off rifle at the closest enemy. 

Neither of you had been expecting the storm. After miles of trudging through the unforgiving desert, each step sinking into the soft grains like quicksand and your weary legs protesting with every movement, you had welcomed it. The sun's heat was relentless as it bore down upon you, slicking your skin with sweat as your lungs burned from the thick, humid air.

When the sky finally darkened, heavy storm clouds rolling ominously across the horizon, you had felt a sense of relief. The air crackled with a pulsing electricity, raising the hairs on your arms and sending shivers down your spine. You smiled, anticipating the rain against your hot skin, cooling it like a balm, but your glee ended when you followed the Ghoul's troubled gaze skyward. The once-promising clouds twisted into a menacing green hue, casting an eerie glow over the wasteland. As they churned and roiled overhead, you felt the Ghoul tug at your hand as you both fled.

You had struggled to keep pace with the Ghoul as he dragged you along the desert, his movements swift and determined despite the looming threat of the storm overhead. The sound of thunder grew louder with each passing moment, urging you forward towards the faint glimmer of hope on the horizon—the open blast door, rusted and weathered against the harsh backdrop of the desert rocks. Salvation.

"You didn't have much choice," you reminded him, now dusting yourself off as you rose to your feet and joined him at his side. With practiced ease, you reached for the pistol holstered at his hip, levelling it at the snarling feral ghoul before you. Without hesitation, you pulled the trigger, the blast tearing through the ghoul's face and sending it crashing to the ground.

"Not all of us are immune to radstorms," you continued, your voice firm as you glanced at him, a hint of a smile on your lips. "And you'd miss me too much."

With a grunt of acknowledgment, he dispatched the last remaining ghoul with a well-aimed shot to the head. As the echoes of gunfire faded, silence descended upon the hallway, the only sound a soft hum of electricity coursing through the ancient structure.

"Like a hole in the head," he muttered, his tone laced with grim amusement as he surveyed the aftermath of the encounter, slinging his rifle onto his back.

You rolled your eyes in response, holstering his gun back at his hip before bending to retrieve your own from where it had been flung during the scuffle with the feral ghoul. Blood smeared across your skin as you wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, blinking away the remnants of the encounter.

The Ghoul scrutinized you with a critical eye, flicking at a piece of rotten flesh that rested on your shoulder. It hit the ground with a wet splat. "You look like shit," he remarked bluntly, his tone devoid of any sugar-coating as he took in your dishevelled appearance. "Smell like it too."

A wry grin tugged at your lips despite the grim circumstances, looking down at your bloody clothes. "I don't think ghouls concern themselves with personal hygiene when they're rotting from the inside out," you quipped, attempting to lighten the mood, though you quickly fumbled to apologize when you saw his expression falter. "Not you, you're different."

He kicked at the corpse with a spurred boot, a hint of bitterness tainting his features. "Debateable," he muttered, his voice heavy with a weight you couldn't quite discern.

Before you could say anything, he urged you forward through the dim hallway, stepping over the dead as you pushed deeper into the belly of the vault.

"The backup generator is running, but barely" you informed him, eyeing the flickering lights overhead. "If we find an apartment close to the power room, it might have enough for a hot shower. I bet there's still an old tin of cram or two hanging around, too."

He chuckled teasingly, his voice echoing softly in the corridor. "Feeling at home, vaultie?" he asked, a hint of amusement colouring his words.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia as you took in the familiar twists and turns of the Vault-Tec vault. It had been months since you left your own vault on a standard recon mission for the overseer. Memories of your first days outside the safety of your home flooded back, the naivety of not quite understanding your surroundings almost leading you to your demise. It was only through the intervention of the irradiated bounty hunter that you had been spared from certain death.

Despite the dangers of the wasteland, you had found a sense of belonging alongside the Ghoul, his gruff exterior belying a reluctant camaraderie that had formed between you. His initial frustration at your presence had given way to begrudging acceptance, and eventually, he had presented you with an ultimatum: he would guide you through the commonwealth in return for your assistance in retrieving his next batch of vials. What exactly your role would entail remained unclear, but you had agreed without hesitation, eager to repay the debt you owed him for saving your life.

"Let's try in here," you suggested, gesturing towards the apartment block as you led the way. Stopping at the first open door, you peered inside, finding the remnants of a life left behind. The apartment boasted a homely kitchen diner attached to an open-planned living room, but a thick layer of dust coated every surface, casting a sombre feeling over the once-vibrant space.

As you moved to step into the apartment, the Ghoul's gloved hand closed firmly around your wrist, halting your progress. "We should check on the storm," he advised, his tone cautious. "It could be passing quickly, and we don't want to waste valuable time."

"What's your hurry?" you chuckled, gently freeing your arm from his grip with a shake before venturing into the kitchen. "Don't tell me you couldn't go for a little home comfort or two," you teased over your shoulder, testing the tap and smiling when the first drops of water spurted from it. 

The Ghoul stepped warily into the apartment, his hand hovering near his holstered gun as he scanned the faded space with caution, his senses alert for any signs of danger. Meanwhile, you rummaged through the cupboards with a sense of determination, your movements swift and purposeful.

Suddenly, you let out a triumphant "Aha!" The Ghoul tensed slightly as he turned his attention to you. With a proud grin, you held up your findings for his inspection. "Can I interest you in a fine meal of BlamCo Mac and Cheese, Mr. Howard?"

Your playful tone brought a rare hint of amusement to the Ghoul's features, his guard momentarily lowered in the face of your infectious enthusiasm. With a weary but genuine smile, he nodded in agreement. "Well, vaultie, I suppose it's better than nothing," he conceded, allowing himself to relax ever so slightly in the comfort of the unfamiliar surroundings as he stepped closer to the table.

"Better than spending hours hunting for a glimpse of mole-rat meat, that's for sure," you remarked with a chuckle, the sound echoing softly in the quiet confines of the apartment. You opened the E-Z pour spout of the box, decanting two portions of BlamCo Mac and Cheese into the pan on the stove. You wished for milk instead of the tap water as you added it to the mix, a small pang of longing for the comforts of home stirring within you.

As you stirred the pot, you couldn't help but notice the Ghoul's watchful gaze lingering on you from behind. Turning to face him, you observed the subtle shift in his demeanour, a hint of awkwardness marring his usually confident exterior. "Why don't you sit down, make yourself comfortable," you suggested, nodding towards the dining table that stood between you. Despite his initial hesitation, you smiled warmly when he slowly took a seat.

As you observed the Ghoul sitting at the dining table, his posture tense and his demeanour uncertain, you couldn't help but feel a sense of role reversal between the two of you. Here he was, a seasoned survivor of the wasteland, seeming out of place and unsure in the remnants of a family home. It was a stark contrast to the confidence and expertise he showed whilst guiding you on the surface.

Now, it was your turn to lead him through unfamiliar territory, to offer him a glimpse of normalcy amidst the chaos he'd known for so many years.

You served the steaming meal into two bowls you had found in the cupboard above, placing them gently on the table before the Ghoul as you settled into your seat opposite him. As he picked up his spoon and began to eat, you couldn't help but watch him with a soft affection.

He grunted in acknowledgment, a reluctant expression of gratitude escaping his scarred lips before he dug into the hot offering before him. You observed with a warm smile as he paused mid-mouthful, savouring the cheesy flavour that filled the air, his expression shifting to one of satisfaction as he gave an affirming nod.

"Not half bad," he said, then glanced at you with a glint in his eye. "Could do with a little rat meat."

You shook your head at his joke, savouring the familiar taste of the mac and cheese as you tucked into your own meal. A comfortable silence settled between you both as you ate, the only sound in the room the gentle clinking of spoons against ceramic.

Once he had finished his meal, the Ghoul leaned back in his chair, rubbing comically at his stomach as he glanced over at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. You couldn't help but laugh at the sight, the juxtaposition of this rugged, irradiated cowboy against the backdrop of a once-cozy family home amusing to you.

"You ever see yourself in a place like this?" you asked, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned forward, your elbow propped up on the table.

"Sweetheart, there ain't no place like this," he replied, gesturing around the room with a sweep of his hand. "This ain't real, just a lie sold to gullible folk who were desperate not to go out with the end of the world."

"I don't know," you countered, a hint of defiance in your voice. "Feels pretty real to me."

He shook his head condescendingly, a familiar tone creeping into his words. "That's 'cause you were raised by the machine," he said, his gaze steady as he met your eyes. "Reality is, you don't know your ass from your elbow."

You laughed softly, the tension easing from your shoulders as you shook your head in amusement. "Maybe not, but I think this, real or not, might be nice for just one night."

He considered your suggestion, his mouth pulling into a tight grimace as he followed your gaze to the far corner of the room where a door led into a fair-sized bedroom. From your vantage point, the queen-sized bed seemed to call out to you, promising a rare moment of comfort and respite that you hadn't felt since leaving your vault.

His expression softened as he caught the gleam of longing in your eye. "I suppose, just one night," he conceded, his tone gruff but his reluctance tinged with a hint of warmth. "You gonna wash that stink off before diving into that thing?"

You grinned at his teasing remark, then gestured to the remnants of feral ghoul clinging to his own body. "I'm not the only one who needs a shower," you pointed out with a playful smirk. "You're not getting in that bed without one."

He chuckled, his gaze momentarily dropping before meeting yours once more. "I'm taking the couch," he declared.

Your smile faltered, disappointment evident on your face as you glanced over to the dusty couch. In your eagerness for a moment of normalcy, you had momentarily forgotten the harsh reality of your situation—the boundaries that existed between you and your companion.

"I think you'd like the bed much better," you suggested tentatively, but he shook his head in refusal when you looked back at him.

"You gonna make me tell you again?" he asked, his tone firm with warning.

Memories of a recent encounter flooded your mind. Just days ago, in the chill of the night, you had sought comfort in his warmth, curling up behind him on his bedroll in a desperate attempt to stave off the cold wind that whipped through the open shelter you had found. Of course it wasn't the only reason you had crossed that line, but you told yourself otherwise.

At first, he had stirred slowly, his initial reaction one of sleep-hazed confusion, but realization settled on him at the touch of your hand on his back. He had pushed you away, demanding to know what had gotten into you, banishing you back to your own bedroll, and in the morning he had made it clear that it was not to happen again—that you needed to get your head on straight.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to the reality of the situation. Memories of the ease of intimacy in your vault flooded your mind—the shared moments of mutual gratification with fellow residents that had once been commonplace. But on the surface, such connections seemed few and far between, leaving you feeling isolated and starved for physical affection.

Despite your initial recoil at the sight of the Ghoul, a newfound curiosity had begun to stir within you—a longing for the touch of another, of his rough hands, weathered by the harshness of the wasteland, tracing patterns across your flesh. It filled you with a heady mixture of excitement and apprehension. The mere thought of it sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within you that you struggled to suppress. 

And yet, here you both were—plucked from your shared reality and forced to remain in this abandoned apartment until the radstorm had passed.

The confines of the room seemed to shrink around you as the tension between you and the Ghoul hung heavy in the air. Each passing moment only served to heighten the palpable desire that simmered beneath the surface.

"I'm going to wash this off," you announced, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart, as you rose from your seat and fixed your gaze on him. "You're right, none of this is real. Tomorrow is a new day, so what happens tonight is insignificant."

Before you could falter, you turned away and made your way to the bedroom where the en suite was located. Your skin burned at the implication of your words, at the possibility that he might ignore you and leave you feeling empty and alone in the harsh light of the morning after.

With each step, you braced yourself for rejection, for the inevitable fallout that awaited. But as you reached the door of the bathroom, a sliver of hope flickered within you—a small glimmer of possibility that perhaps, just perhaps, the barriers between you could be broken down, if only for a fleeting moment in time.

Stepping into the shower, the hot water cascaded down on you, enveloping your naked skin in a welcomed embrace. With each drop, the dirt and grime of the wasteland melted away, leaving you feeling refreshed and renewed. Lost in the bliss of the water, you didn't hear the door slide open behind you until the Ghoul's deep voice cut through the steam.

"You missed a spot," he remarked, and you jumped, turning to face him with your arms instinctively crossing over your chest. Your heart raced as his darkened eyes roamed your body, their intensity sending a flush of heat rushing to your cheeks.

"Think you can get it, Cooper?" you asked after a pause, the challenge evident in your tone as you dared him to come closer, to see just how far he was willing to go now that he had stepped foot in the bathroom and laid eyes on your naked form. He shifted, making to step into the shower, but you stopped him with a hand pressed against his clothed chest.

"You're still dressed," you pointed out, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes as you gestured to his attire. His bandolier and hat lay discarded on the countertop behind him, both guns resting in their respective holsters beside your own.

With a resigned sigh, he shrugged out of his heavy duster and let it fall to the ground, the weight of his armour leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. But before he could make another move, you stopped him once more, your hand halting his progress as you met his gaze with determination.

"The clothes ain't coming off," he muttered, his tone gruff with a hint of defiance. "Take it or leave it."

For a moment, you hesitated, weighing your options as you stared into his eyes, searching for any sign of vulnerability beneath the hardened exterior. And then, with a silent nod of understanding, you stepped aside, allowing him to join you beneath the comforting spray of the shower, the barriers between you slowly beginning to crumble in the warmth of the water. 

His frame took up the rest of the space, looming over you as you dropped your arm from your chest, exposing yourself to him fully. With a sharp intake of breath, he devoured you with his gaze, his eyes darkening with a mix of hunger and hesitation. The steam swirled around you both, creating a cocoon of intimacy that felt separate from the harsh realities outside.

You reached for his gloved hand, your fingers trembling slightly as you lifted it and guided it to your breast. The sensation of the rough leather against your skin sent a shiver through you, your eyes never leaving his as you encouraged him to touch you.

For a moment, he remained still, his eyes searching yours as if seeking permission one last time. Then, with a slow exhale, he closed his hand around your breast, the pressure firm but careful, as if afraid to break the fragile connection forming between you.

His thumb brushed over your nipple, the leather cool and abrasive against your sensitive skin. A gasp escaped your lips, your body arching into his touch as desire flared within you. His eyes, still locked on yours, softened with a mix of awe and uncertainty, the vulnerability beneath his hardened exterior laid bare in the steamy haze of the shower.

You wondered if, during the centuries he had roamed the wasteland, he had ever experienced this intimacy. Had he taken a lover? Had he sought solace in another's arms, despite the shame that made him hesitant to do so? You wondered if he had felt the soft, smooth skin of a woman since being transformed into this stoic, dangerous mutation, and it made you determined to give him the comfort you felt he so desperately needed.

Emboldened by his touch, you leaned closer, pressing your body against his clothed form, feeling the heat radiating from him even through the layers of damp fabric. Your hands moved to his shoulders, sliding down his arms as you whispered, "You won't break me."

He paused, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "What if I want to?" he asked, his voice low and searching. His gaze bore into yours, seeking an answer.

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken longing and raw vulnerability. This was as open and honest as he had ever been with you, his desires laid bare for the first time. You could see the conflict in his gaze, the struggle between the hardened exterior he presented to the world and the tender emotions he kept hidden away.

"Go ahead," you said softly, your voice trembling with anticipation and the weight of your own feelings. You pressed a hand against the hardness of his clothed cock, squeezed gently as if urging him on.

His breath hitched, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away. But then he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both delicate and demanding. His hands moved over your body, exploring and caressing with a reverence that took your breath away.

Suddenly, you were pushed backwards against the cold tiles of the shower cubicle, his body consumed you as his lips left yours to nip and suck at your neck before moving fervently down to your breasts. You gasped when his teeth grazed your nipple, your hands resting on his shoulders, holding him closer to you. His own hands clawed at your thighs, lifting one leg to rest on his hip as you reached for his belt buckle. He gritted his teeth, anticipating your touch. You undid it slowly, your hand grazing his clothed abdomen before sliding down to squeeze his cock.

"Fuck," he muttered against your skin, his voice thick with desire. You could feel his hardness pulsing against your palm, its size and thickness surprising you, sending a surge of excitement to your core. His textured skin pressed against yours, igniting a shiver of anticipation at the thought of him inside you. With a tentative thrust, he tested your grasp, letting out a guttural moan when you responded with a tug.

You guided his cock to your entrance, teasingly tracing the tip along your slick folds. The air crackled between you, every touch, every movement igniting the tension. He claimed your lips in a fierce kiss, teeth clashing as he effortlessly lifted you with practiced skill. Legs wrapped around his waist, you held onto him tightly as he pushed into you. You felt overwhelmed you as your walls stretched to accommodate him, a fiery sensation coursing through you as he filled you completely.

For a moment, you both stilled in the intensity of the connection, breathlessly panting in the humid air. Then, with a slow, deliberate rhythm, he began to move, his thrusts deep and forceful, each one igniting waves of pleasure that surged through you.

His gloved hands kneaded and squeezed at the soft flesh of your behind, his head dropped into the crook of your neck again as his licked and sucked the skin raw. Your fingers slid between your bodies, tugged at the buttons of his wet shirt in a vain attempt to feel him against you. He grunted, pulled back from your neck with a scolding look as he slapped your hand away.

"I just want to feel you, Coop," you told him, voice tainted with a whine.

"You're feeling me just fine," he said, his voice low, as he thrust his hips deeply, pushing his cock further inside you. Tears welled in your eyes from the stretch, and you leaned your head back against the tiles while he smirked. "Just fine."

You yielded, deciding that if this was how he chose to give himself to you, then you'd accept it willingly.

He took your silence as obedience, thrusting into you forcefully, driving his cock to the hilt over and over. You moaned as your body responded, clenching around him, your eyes squeezed shut. With a smirk, he pulled back slightly, his gaze fixated on the point where your bodies joined, observing intently as he continued to pound into you with a steady, unyielding pace.

A gasp escaped your lips as his hand slid between you, his fingers encased in leather, pinching your clit with a pleasurable pain that sent waves of sensation through your body. The coil of tension inside you tightened, your muscles yearning for release as he expertly flicked and rubbed at the sensitive bud.

Your nails dug into his shoulder, leaving marks on the leather vest as you thrashed against him. His eyes, now dark pools of desire, remained fixed on your hungry cunt enveloping him as you matched his relentless rhythm. With each bounce, your bodies collided, igniting a primal passion between you and driving you both towards the brink of ecstasy.

Your orgasm ripped through you with a cry of his name, intense and all consuming, stealing your breath as your muscles clenched around him and your juices flowed over his throbbing shaft. 

His fingers continued their assault on your sensitive clit, relentless in their pursuit of your pleasure. He fucked into you mercilessly, seeing you through to the end of your release before focusing on his own. His primal grunts filled the air as his hips faltered, and you seized him in a bruising kiss, your hand wet against his warm cheek, sucking at his tongue with desperate need to convey your bliss.

You felt him begin to pull away, and in a panic you tightened the hold you had around him, your legs locking almost painfully around his waist as he tore his lips from yours.

"I can't," he panted, desperately trying to pry you from him as he stopped his movements, but you grinded down onto him, imploring him to continue with a moan. "Fuck, don't make me."

A second passed and then as if succumbing to a battle of his own will, his hips resumed their  painful snapping motion, driving his cock deep inside you with a frantic pace. Then, they faltered, stuttering, and he pinned you hard against the tiles as he came inside your swollen cunt with an animalistic growl.

With his face buried in your neck, you held him close, your hands gently stroking his back, as the last spasms of his release faded. His warm load filled you completely, trailing down the inside of your thigh.

The small space fell back into silence, void of the rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin, now filled only with the heavy breaths from both of you and the trickling of the water that had long since chilled and ceased to flow. His hands moved to your thighs, roughly prying your legs from around him and lowering you back to the floor with a finality. His softening cock slipped out of you, leaving you empty and sore, eager to feel it again.

He avoided your gaze, busying himself with tucking himself back into his pants and adjusting the damp fabric before turning to leave the cubicle. You reached out, attempting to hold him back by grasping his bicep, but his eyes remained fixed on the wall ahead.

"Wasn't so bad, was it?" you asked, trying to inject a hint of levity into the heavy atmosphere, but he only grunted in response, pulling his arm away from your grip.

"Get some sleep, we leave at first light," he ordered, swiftly gathering his discarded belongings before exiting the bathroom.

A chill settled over you as you tried to steady your shaky breath. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you walked into the bedroom, feeling a mix of disappointment and resignation when you saw the Ghoul had retreated to the living room. Damp and regretful, he had chosen the dusty couch over spending the night with you.

With a sigh, you approached the bed and picked up the bottle left for you on the spread. The red and yellow capsules clinked against the rust-coloured glass, the chemical smell of the Rad-x filling the air as you unscrewed the lid. It was naïve to expect anything more than an awkward departure after what had happened between you, yet you couldn't shake the heavy pit of defeat that settled in your stomach, despite your earlier promise to him.

What happens tonight is insignificant.

[dorkofclanlavellan]

Sweet Doesn't Mean Naive (Fallout Characters)

Fandom: Fallout 4 Scenario: The characters meeting and falling for a reader who is very sweet and helpful and accepting. Initially they may think the reader is naive because of their nature but soon learn differently. Pairings: Cait x Reader, Danse x Reader, Hancock x Reader, MacCready x Reader, Nick x Reader + Copper Howard x Reader.

Notes: Zero uses of Y/N or Sole. I may do a part 2 for the other characters later, these are just the ones that I'm super inspired for rn. [Also this is based on me never being able to select rude options in video games unless I genuinely hate the character lol]

Trigger Warning: These may be slightly OOC as I'm still familiarizing myself with the characters (more so the FO4 characters than Coop)

Cait:

Cait initially underestimates you, thinking you're too sweet and accepting to survive in the Wasteland. However, she's surprised when she discovers your savvy side, handling dangerous situations with intelligence and composure.

Your kindness and willingness to help others win her heart, and she admires your ability to adapt and thrive in challenging circumstances.

Cait falls for you deeply, realizing that your sweetness is not a weakness but a strength.

Danse:

Danse is initially cautious around you, expecting you to be naive due to your sweet and accepting demeanor. However, he's pleasantly surprised when he witnesses your quick thinking and resourcefulness during a perilous situation.

Your kindness and helpfulness earn his respect, and he admires your ability to handle yourself in tough situations.

Danse develops feelings for you, impressed by your combination of kindness and savvy decision-making skills.

Hancock:

Hancock is amused by your sweetness and helpfulness, initially thinking you might be a bit naive about the dangers of the Commonwealth. However, he's pleasantly surprised when you prove to be street smart and savvy in various situations.

Your accepting nature and open-mindedness capture his interest, and he admires your ability to see the good in people while still being aware of the harsh realities of the world.

Hancock develops strong feelings for you, fascinated by your unique blend of kindness and savvy insight.

MacCready:

MacCready is cautious around you at first, assuming you're naive because of your sweet and accepting personality. However, he quickly realizes that you're more savvy than you appear when you show exceptional skill in handling dangerous situations.

Your helpfulness and compassion make a lasting impression on him, and he admires your ability to adapt and survive in tough circumstances.

MacCready falls for you, drawn to your kindness and impressed by your hidden savvy nature.

Nick Valentine:

Nick initially sees you as naive, given your sweet and accepting demeanor. However, he's amazed when you display a keen understanding of complex situations and handle them with grace and intelligence.

He finds your kindness and empathy touching, and he admires your ability to see through people's facades while still maintaining your positive outlook.

Nick develops strong feelings for you, intrigued by your combination of sweetness and savvy awareness of the world around you.

Cooper:

When you first met, Coop was fairly dismissive of you. He thought you were just going to get yourself killed fairly soon. Your generous nature was a sign of naïveté in his eyes. So he wanted as little to do with you as possible.

Then you gave him a months supply of vials for free. And he decided to stick with you. Deciding the best repayment was to protect you from the dangers of the Wasteland and yourself.

That's when he learned just how much he'd underestimated you. You were kind and always willing to help absolutely anyone but you were not one that could taken advantage of.

And that's what really impressed him. The more of your acumen that Cooper saw, the more he grew to care about you. Including your altruistic nature.

[enaelyork]

Could I request a prewar!cooper Howard x fem!actress!reader where he finds out a producer has been making her sleep with him under the threat of cooper losing his jobs! 💓

Hi you !

Thx you so much for this amazing ask. So, here we are, hope you enjoy it.

I resign [PreWar! Cooper x F! Reader]

Ask for Cooper Howard is OPEN

TW: Alcohol, sexual abuse, violence.

Words : 1.9 k

- What's going on between you and him?

- Nothing at all.

You had swallowed your entire drink. You needed that, and a lot more alcohol, to drown out the shameful lie you had just told Cooper. It wasn't your intention to lie to him, but you had no choice.

- Are you sure ? Because he hasn't stopped looking at you since we both talked.

- He is afraid that you will corrupt his main actress…

The word had lightened the atmosphere, just a few seconds which allowed you to glance at Oscar Sullivan. The producer of your last film with whom you were forced to make this sordid agreement. You're due for another chance at Cooper Howard's career. It must be said that since his divorce, things have gone rather badly for him. A long absence from film sets and his image tainted by a marital breakdown earned him several refusals. So, when you applied for this new film together, you were delighted to learn that he had been chosen to play the lead alongside you.

But it was not without consequences.

It wasn't without Oscar's hands on your body, his mouth on yours and the consummation of your contract right at his desk. You thought that your charms would be enough, that once he had a taste of it, things would have improved for you as well as for Coop.

Big mistake.

The suspicion with which Cooper looked at you brought a blush to your cheeks. You put it down to drunkenness – the only way to escape from this situation – but it was an illusion.

It's difficult to admit to your friend that Oscar was waiting for you to join him in his hotel room after this reception, and that it was in your interest not to decline his offer. The features of his face calmed. As if despite his suspicions, he still managed to trust you. This semblance of carefreeness in him soothed you. He soothed you, probably more than he should. But Cooper had always been special to you, long before his divorce from Barbs, and he had brought out things in you that you had buried for a long time.

- You're worrying for nothing. Oscar is lovely to us, isn't he?

He hesitated before answering something much too nuanced for you. Cooper had noticed the way the producer treated you once on set. The way he devoured you with his eyes and took pleasure in making you shoot scenes in scantily clad clothes. The subject had already been brought up more than once, but you always managed to find a valid excuse, especially through the scenario.

- I assure you that everything is fine. But I'm going to go to bed. The champagne is really going to my head and we're back to work bright and early tomorrow.

Without you having time to react, Cooper's lips rested on your forehead and his scent of musk and wood spice spread into your nostrils. The intoxication he provoked in you made you dizzy and in that moment, when your eyes met his, you wanted to confess everything to him. That he was right. That you sleep with Oscar for him, so that he can finally relaunch his career. That in bed with this guy, you thought of him.

That you feel dirty. But nothing came except this awful sad smile which definitely cast doubt on your situation.

-------------------

- He kissed you.

Oscar’s grip on your hips had tightened the moment he came to join you on the threshold of his bedroom door.

- Just a kiss on the forehead, nothing important.

- You really love him, then? Me who thought you only had eyes for me. Maybe I should take it away from you to remind you who you belong to, beauty.

- Of course not. You get ideas. It's only you who matters.

You kissed him, closing your eyes, trying to take your soul out of your body and put it on autopilot. He smelled of whiskey and cold tobacco, a smell the opposite of the one that still haunted you. Once the door closed, you didn't see the shadow watching you further down the hotel corridor and all the consequences that would follow.

----------

Cooper didn't even speak to you the next day.

Yet you had tried to approach him. Asking him if his night went well, if his text made him feel comfortable or if he needed anything. As the day went on, it became apparent to you that he was avoiding you a lot.

Then his eyes met yours and that look broke your heart definitly.

There was darkness in his hazel eyes, a darkness that seemed to slowly absorb him and painfully compress your soul. The day had been a constant torture searching for any sign of peace between the two of you, but nothing. The nothingness and sadness he sent back to you were unbearable. Then, the end of the day turned into a nightmare.

He had been drinking.

More than he should have done at the workplace, but you knew Cooper had that tendency ever since Barbs left with Janey. His life had become so disjointed that he no longer had any defenses to confront his ghosts. How could he believe in himself when the one he loved had decided to let him go too?

- Cooper, you need to go back to your dressing room now.

- And why this ?

He wasn't drunk, just enough to remove all inhibition from his mouth and turn his sweetness into venom. The look of contempt he gave you gave you chills. You waited until he left to take him to task and reason with his self-destructive attitude.

- Because your career is at stake, dammit! You didn't do all this to screw everything up.

- Are you the one who screws everything up? Do you want me to go back to my dressing room and play the whore producer?

You brought your hands to your mouth. Trying to understand how he could have known about this situation.

- Yeah. I saw you last night, sweatheart. It's not very nice to lie, especially to end up with this guy.

You were unable to answer him, frozen, petrified by the nastiness of his words. Outside rang out the bursts of laughter of a team satisfied with their long day of work. But there, in this locker room, chaos reigned between you and him.

- How can you do that? With him ? You're not a failed actress though. And…What the hell are you doing?

You were crying.

There were no other possible options. The sobs could no longer stay where you imprisoned them. It had been there for too long. It built up every time Oscar touched you, penetrated you and whispered vile words to you. But now, when Cooper was behaving exactly like a bastard, you could no longer remain impassive.

-He obliges me.

You realized in that moment that your back was pressed against a wall and that Cooper's body was so close to his that you could smell the delicious smell of mint and cold beer emanating from his breath. His hand hovered above his head, not as a threat but as a shield, protecting you from an unbearable world.

-When...When I signed my contract, he told me it was just one time. Once to allow you to be here.

He didn't say anything. Not a word.

A baleful silence disturbed by his slow breathing.

-I thought it would end there. But he told me that if I refused to continue, then he would terminate your contract. And I can't accept that. This role is with you or with no one.

Your breathing was labored, but you didn’t care because it was now obvious that you were going to die of a broken heart.

-I'm not a slut. I…He disgusts me, but I want the best for you, I want you to come back to the forefront, I want you…

Not another word came out of your mouth.

His lips rested on your forehead.

Tenderly. Impassively.

His finger had slid down your cheek, picking up the tear that fell on your skin before leaving, dragging you with him onto the tray with a firm but tender grip.

- Aaah, here they are, our heroes! Oscar was quick to jump out of his producer's seat when he saw you two rushing in together. Then, his enthusiasm faded at the sight of your eyes reddened with tears.

- What's going on, baby? Did Cooper hurt you? Do you want to talk about it together in…

He didn't finish his sentence.

His collar grabbed by Cooper's firm hands, pushing him back so violently that he knocked over his chair. - What the hell are you doing, you…

- I'm not a nice guy. Your friend began in a dark voice. So I'll tell you one thing. If you're looking for an actor to play good guys, you can find another one. I resign.

It had happened.

He had just said it exactly. Some members of the team tried to separate them, but you remained completely impassive, lost.

-And now that you can tear up my contract, you'll tear up hers too. He said, pointing at you with a jerk of his chin. If I find out that you're touching her again, that you're still trying to fuck her without her agreeing, I...

- She agreed, this little sl…

The fist that smashed his jaw flew without warning. Oscar found himself on the ground, disoriented by the shock of the impact. - Never talk about her like that, understand? He moved away from him, not without giving him a threatening look. Looking for his pack of cigarettes in the pocket of his jeans.

- Burn our contracts and explain to all your fans why you won't have your main actors to finish your job.

Shit. It was incredibly sexy to hear him defend you like that. You were shaking nervously, but it was terribly exhilarating to see him beat the shit out of that poor guy. When he grabs your hand, your eyes meet again and you understand that nothing will ever be the same between you again.

- Come on, Sweatheart. I'll take you to the police station. You have a complaint to file against this bastard.

[greenleaf4stuff]

I saw lot of posts about Hancock and The Ghoul/Cooper Howard meeting which is a cool scenario to think about for sure, but may I present you this:

Hancock and *Norm* meeting

Those two have a surprising amount of similarities in the character arcs/backstories.

[Spoilers for FO4 and the Fallout TV show up ahead!]

Like. They are both guys who knew that something *wrong* was going on around them; Hancock knew that McDonough’s campaign against the ghouls and how Diamond City exiled them was wrong, and later on he disliked how things were going in Goodneighbor before he became mayor. Norm knew there was something up with the ‚vaulties‘ from Vault 32 and later on knew that Vault 33 wouldn’t send out ppl to get his and Lucy’s father back, and that something was going on with vault 32 (or, actually, all the three vaults).

They both felt as if they were cowards when faced with great danger and injustice; Hancock didn’t oppose McDonough’s actions as much as he (felt he) could have and also felt like a coward when thugs beat up ppl in Goodneighbor. Norm felt like a coward for hiding during the attack of the raiders and didn’t follow Lucy into the wasteland, saying he is ‚too chicken‘ to do so.

And then? As a consequence to these injustices, to their own cowardice, they both decided to say ‚fuck that‘ and do the right thing, even in the face of massive opposition and everything stacked against them. Instead of backing down or being intimidated, they turned around and used their skills to try and make a change.

Hancock tried to help the exiled ghouls, and later on became a ghoul himself, got inspired by the historical John Hancock, found himself a group of people and took out the thugs in Goodneighbor. And then became mayor of the town – not quite turning it around 180 degrees, but still making the town a safe haven for all the ‚misfits‘ of the wasteland; fellow ghouls, assaultrons, ppl who didn’t think they belonged anywhere else. „Everybody ’s welcome��. An anti-thesis to what his brother stood for in Diamond City.

And Norm, he asks uncomfortable questions. He needles people for information. He finds a temporary ally in Chet, who despite his own cowardice promised to protect Norm for Lucy and helps him to get into vault 32. Norm puts clues together, hacks into terminals, reads, asks further questions – even causes some unrest, especially when it comes to dealing with the imprisoned raiders. He has managed to outsmart everyone around him and find out the secret of vault 31, an act that required courage especially considering Norm cannot just up and leave the vaults. Even if he makes it back to vault 33. He had to know that getting caught would have dire consequences one way or another, and still he persisted in his quest.

And (extra warning – heavy spoilers here!) they both can make some very horrible discoveries about their family members. John Hancock – originally John McDonough – can find out that his older brother, who exiled all the ghouls from Diamond City, has gotten replaced with a synth doppelganger. Probably even before he drove that hate campaign against the ghouls, making Hancock question whether he even hated the ‚right‘ person aka whether he had hated his brother for the wrong reasons all these years.

And Norm finds out that Hank Maclean has been alive before the bombs fell, and got thawed out of cryogenic slumber. That his own father lied to him and Lucy, is part of an ‚elite‘ class of people who manage vaults 32 and 33 while keeping their inhabitants in the dark about their true purpose – to be breeding stock in an attempt to create the perfect managers and re-populate America in their vision. The vision of Vault-Tec.

The person they saw as their family might have just been someone they didn’t truly know.

They share a lot of similiarities, and I think they would get on like a house on fire.

This is just headcanons from this point onwards, but I can see Hancock appreciating and valuing Norm’s perception and intelligence, as well as his subtle way of communicating that he knows more than he lets on. And I can see Norm understanding Hancock’s approach to his town and how he leads it, how he makes sure that his people are safe. (Remember, Norm made the suggestion to kill the captive raiders because they killed his fellow vault dwellers and kidnapped his father – his and Hancock’s brand of justice might not be that much different.)

I also think they could have epic verbal spats and very, very witty banter together.

If Norm had Hancock in the vault and voiced his suspicions to him, Hancock would have followed him and helped. No questions asked. He likely would have been pissed on Norm’s behalf too.

And if Norm had been there when Hancock planned to overthrow the mayor in Goodneighbor, Norm might not have taken up arms, but he would have used his skills to take care of turrets, terminals or locked doors/safes. And he wouldn’t be afraid to give Hancock a piece of his mind if he felt the mayor was too far up his own supply of chems.

Tl;dr – I think there are a bunch of parallels when it comes to Hancock and Norm Maclean and therefore them meeting could turn out incredibly interesting. Also I think both characters are really neat.

[doodler-jpeg]

Silly Scenario w/ Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard

cw; gender neutral reader, making out stuff, something goes in a forbidden zone, it's so silly in here ! 😜 (don't wanna spoil it too much)

Imagine going in to kiss Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard. It's going great, despite his weirdly rubbery lips, and it's starting to heat up. Your faces are practically mushed together, something that's made easier due to the obvious lack of cartilage on the ghoul's face. At some point in the make out session, you have to pull away, needing air, but your nose gets stuck in his nasal cavity.

You spend the next thirty minutes trying to not injure yourself or Cooper in order to free your delicate organ. You're panicking because you can smell inside him, and he's panicking because you might start bleeding from your nose so that might get into his nose. You start crying at some point and just accept the fact that you'll be stuck like this for a bit, as does Cooper, but you feel a singular nose hair being plucked from your nose and then you're jolting back, teary eyed and holding your nose. Cooper starts cackling and cleans out his cavity while witnessing your pain, though he gives your thigh an assuring pat when he regains his bearing.

You guys don't get that freaky for a while afterwards.

[staarboyyy]

┏━━━━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━━━━┓

-ˋˏ [ bowie | 20 | any pronouns ] ˎˊ-

┗━━━━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━━━━┛

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┆ ┆ ┆ *:･ﾟ ↷ ⋯ ♡ᵎ ✦ ⌇ ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ↴

┆ ┆ *ೃ bowies tumblr!

┆ ‍⊹ꮺ˚ banner credits ! *₊°。

¨🎞

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧 ; all characters are 18+, written by adult(s), for adults, in adult scenarios. These scenarios can range from explicit, to gorey depending on the given tags. minors do not interact!

★📎 {} .. if requests are open, please be patient with completed drabbles! i am only one person with two weak malnourished thumbs, have mercy :(

☆💬。・i write for characters that have been considered "controversial" in the past, such as homelander, soldier boy, amanda young, etc. if those characters/sources bother you, please feel free to block me and my tags !

☆・．❕「tags」

-ˋˏ #bowies fics [all fics]

-ˋˏ #bowies requests [requested fics]

-ˋˏ #bowies headcannons [ all headcannons ]

-ˋˏ #bowies comfort tag [reposts of fanart of sources i love]

-ˋˏ #bowies silly tag [funny reposts]

-ˋˏ #pretty colors!!!@ [reposts of fanart of sources i love]

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

fic request status ; open !

headcannon request status ; open !

✩°｡⋆saw franchise x reader - all gender neutral

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .: amanda young x reader

drowning ; unhealthy dynamics, descriptions of violence, s/h mentions slight stockholm syndrome, menetions of kidnapping, fluff, no smut - strangely soft moments and recalling memories of being taken in by amanda and john [ romance ]

quiet morning ; fluff, sleeping with socks, sleepy morning, buffmanda, pervymanda, straddling, teasing - amanda insists you both sleep in. [ suggestive ]

choice ; stroke mentions/slight descriptions, surgery mentions, panic attacks, grounding, hand holding, fluff, "i hate everyone but you" trope - after john has a stroke, you find yourself slightly split between two sides of the same coin. [ angst / romance ]

territory ; apprentice!reader, jealousy, amanda being a guard dog, anatomical terms for vagina, degradation, dubcon if u squint, biting, sadistmanda - amanda catches you and mark going over your lastet work. [ smut ]

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .: mark hoffman x reader

worthy test ; dead dove, detective!reader, kidnapping, smut, gender neutral anatomy, gags, rough sex, slapping, needles, drugging, unhealthy dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, size difference kink, age difference, creampie, big ol man tiddies YEEHAWW!! - you and your team of investigators have been after jigsaw's apprentice for months, yet waking up bound to a chair makes way for suprises more sinister than you could have imagined [ smut ]

══════════════════════

✩°｡⋆the boys x reader - all gender neutral

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .: homelander x reader

compliance ; sublander, bloodplay, knifeplay, handcuffs, dom/sub dynamic, consent, communication, prior planning, oral sex - getting homelander in a vulnerable position where you put him in cuffs he's not allowed to break. [ smut ]

supernova ; depowered!homelander, homelander reffered to as john, angst with a fluffy ending, domestic sweetness, anxiety attack, eating difficulties - john feels lost after losing his powers despite settling into a "normal" life with you. [ angst / romance ]

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .: frenchie x reader

people will talk ; weed smoking, alcohol references, fluff, intoxication, cozy fic, - late night meetings between you, frenchie and a joint [ fluff ]

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .: frenchie x butcher x reader

team building ; reader has vagina, weed use / intoxication, supe reaper, enemies to lovers if you squint, hell yeah for long buildup, threesome, lap sitting, oral [receiving / giving], spitroast, lots of petnames - As a Supe on the run, joining The Boys can be nerve wracking - Easing up tension is no easy feat. [ smut ]

══════════════════════

✩°｡⋆fallout x reader - all gender neutral

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .: cooper howard [the ghoul] x bounty!reader

paid in kind ; gunplay, breathplay, bondage, spitplay, hairpulling, oral [ m receiving ], throatfucking, wallfucking, creampie, accidental yearning, prolonged eye contact is sexy, switch!cooper is underrated, mentions of past sexual experiences, nondescript reader genitals, rad x as ghoul birth control - you've been running for weeks, but there's nowhere he won't find you. [ smut ]

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .: prewar!cooper x barbara howard x reader

summer lovin' ; costar!reader, hot tub time!, fluff beyond belief, relationship not labeled but everyone flirts with everyone!, alcohol mentions/consumption - after working on a film with cooper, you never imagined just how charming both of the howards were. [ romance / fluff ]

══════════════════════

✩°｡⋆you x reader - all gender neutral

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:joe goldberg x reader

sugar coated ; dead dove do not eat, canon joe, stalking, knife play mention, suicide mention, caged reader, manipulation, gaslighting, kidnapping - youve been in and out of mooney's since you moved to new york - it was only a matter of time before you caught his eye. [ angst / horror / story driven ]

spill ; dead dove do not eat, stalking, breaking and entering, voureism, somnophilia, noncon themes, masturbation, glove/latex play, reader has vagina, fourth wall breaks/unreality - hello you. im glad youre reading so much, you always know how to make my head spin. [ horror / smut / story driven ]

daydream; dead dove do not eat, stalking, unhealthy dynamics, power imbalance in a work place, flirting - you run into professor moore, and meeting for the first time feels like he's known you far longer. [ horror / fluff / story driven ]

full disclosure: dead dove elements, "canon" joe, following, flirting, unhealthy workplace dynamics, power imbalance, switch!joe, slight footplay, teasing fest, oral [ reader receiving ], fingering, premature orgasm, joe being a munch interrupted - a heated workplace encounter. [ smut / fluff / story driven ]

✩°｡⋆ Unexpected

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ thomas shelby x reader fic [ smut - specified anatomy ]

summary ; the shelby's and your family have worked together for quite some time. when your mother made a bold move against the lead shelby brother, you took to going to apologize personally.

tags / warnings ; intoxication, spanking, grinding, pleasure denial, thomas shelby being a bitch, smoking, masturbation, facial, cumplay if u squint, explicit consent, power imbalance - smoking, fluff, morning sex, oral [ reader receiving ] , power imbalance, overstimulation, reluctant feels, thomas shelby please have emotions?? please?? LMAO, irresponsible beta read we die like real men

i. evening ,, ii. morning

✩°｡⋆ Negotiations

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .: soldier boy x reader [ smut, angst - specified anatomy ]

summary ; upon joining The Boys to take down Homelander with the help of Soldier Boy, you come to realize he's much more of a hard bargain than you anticipated.

tags / warnings ; dubcon, forced orgasms, slight daddy kink, glove kink if you squint, size kink, southern charm, drug use, wall sex, no pronouns used for reader but afab anatomy is repeatedly mentioned - intoxication, weed use, cocaine mentions, slight angst, porn with a plot, destructive mutualization, lap sitting, pleasure denial, grinding ("the knee thing"), slight underwear fetish, m!masturbation, couch sex, free use elements, creampie, verbal threats, reader takes initiative (aka fucks around and finds out, with feelings!), is soldier boy a warning? if so, soldier boy antics!,

i. negotations ,, ii. necessary evils

═════════════════════

⊹ꮺ˚ masterlist will be updated bi-weekly!

⊹ꮺ˚ for a more accurate list, check #bowies fics ! <3

[butterdoggo13]

--Notes: This is a M!ReaderXCooper Howard drabble. You are a Soldier in this scenario. This is my starter for more kinkier junk on the way. Its my first time doing this so....yeh.

--Tags before reading:Bottom!Cooper, Prewar, Human Cooper, Top!M!Reader

--Unfortunately I won't be doing Bottom M!Reader. Sorry.

But for those who like this. Enjoy!

Summary: Cooper is down after the divorce. He spots you heading into the bar. He's interested.

----------------------------------------------

Divorce was the last option Cooper had imagined.

He nibbled at his lower lip. Nursing on the remnants of his whiskey.

He noticed the few stragglers lingering at the bar.

Some older men who spoke loudly and some others who spoke silently about the tensions with the war.

He pressed his dried lips the cold glass and his sullen eyes drifted towards a man who silently walked in through the door.

He gave the fresh-out-of-war look. Handsome, tired....lonely.

Cooper was just as lonely.

The washed up superstar stood slowly and slid next to the Soldier.

"Drink?"

The Soldier grazed his eyes over the Star as he sat up straight in his chair and waved the bar tender over.

Cooper gave a grin. Resting his chin on the palm of his hand.

"Have one with me? I can see we're both down on our luck. Lonely as hell and tired of the shit going down."

Cooper drank the shot in one gulp and looked the Soldier in the eyes again.

The Moviestar leaned into the others ear and gave a low hum.

"Care to join me elsewhere, Sugar? I would mind the company."

Cooper ran his hand up The Soldiers chest. Slightly playing with the medals that decorated the other mans lapels.

The soldier looked him down silently and took Cooper's hand in his. He paid the tab and both the men slunk into the night

The Movie star gripped the soldiers arm closely. The heat making Cooper press his cold cheek to the others shoulder.

Divorce was the last option Cooper wanted but maybe it was for the best.......

----------------------------------------------

Notes: More to come.

Kinky suggestions for Bottom Cooper are appreciated.

Anything on the table.

I'm especially into the Omegaverse. Breeding and anything slick and messy. Wink wonk

For those who were cheering me on. Bless yall.

[alienwithobsessions]

Scenario/Dialogue: Cooper Howard (Ghoul) x FemReader

You and Cooper live together in a secure location. Coop goes out for months at a time to collect bounties, while you keep your home safe.

Cooper returns earlier than expected. The following dialogue occurs:

You - You're back. [you're surprised and sound anxious]

Cooper - Don't get too excited to see me, sugar, you might hurt yourself. [he's dusty and tired, but the sarcasm is good-natured]

You - I just, well, I'm surprised is all.

Cooper - That all? Then why do ya look like you forgot to turn the oven off? [he raises an eyebrow, lips curling into a wicked smirk]

You - There's, um. Well I have to prep for when you return. [you can't prevent the blood rushing to your cheeks]

Cooper - [his eyes rake over your body] *tsk tsk* Now what makes you think you ever need to do any of that kinda prep for me, darlin'?

<based on a few pieces of info from interviews with Walton Goggins - WG says he is the Ghoul/Cooper Howard, and I read an obscure interview where he said he preferred women, ahem, ungroomed like the old days. So Cooper would also prefer you au naturel>

[brimbrimbrimbrim]

The Seed of Human Kindness (The Ghoul/F!OC)

CHAPTER ONE/TWO/THREE/FOUR/FIVE/SIX

Summary: The Ghoul stumbles upon a piece of walkin' talkin' meat out in the Boneyard. Instead of eating her, he takes her on as his personal traveling chef. Only this chef is a smoothskin vaultie looking for the seed of human kindness, which is exactly what it sounds like, though comin' from a Vault of all women, she's gonna take some convincing on where to find it.Tags: Cannibalism, Sadism, Body Horror, Misandry, Dehumanization, Vault Experiments, Vault Dweller, Cunnilingus, Cum Play, Rough Sex, Power Dynamics, Breeding Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Voyeurism, Non-consensual Exhibitionism, Sexual Awakening, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Male Character

A/N: This is nasty. Please heed all the tags for your fair warning before reading.

---------------------------------------------------------------

The Los Angeles Census Bureau looks about as inviting as it did in the seventies: a delightful courtyard of bones and failed dreams bordered by brutalist cement beds spilling with dead flowers. As he and his spurs jingle-jangle up the pavilion, a decayed hand staked between two dead bushes catches his eye. A blooming stalk of bleached bone, phalanges bent into a middle finger like some 'fuck you' posey straight out of the afterlife. Call him a presentist, but just the fuckin' sight of it makes his lip curl. 

'Fuck the establishment, indeed.'

The Ghoul's been following this endless trail for a while now; turning over these little slices of American bureaucracy is just another dot on the map, but a barbeque on the wind has urged his heels into a proper trot. Hungry as he is. Savory, smokey… mouthwatering, bringing to mind Saturday cook-outs with Barb and Janey, that ol' good boy Roosevelt at his heels, waiting for burnt hotdog tails and the stray charred burger as the martinis pile up. Those good times were lived by another man playing a good old American boy role. Those bygone memories come like a miasma: toxic. It's delicious in its own right, and he's just lucky the aroma seems to be coming from this building right here. A 'kill two birds with one stone' scenario, it would seem. 

He can hear the muffled commotion of chaos inside and the clatter of something heavy. Judging by the reverb, a bullet snaps concrete. It must've hit wiring too because the sign above those broken doors flickers—time-yellowed plastic covering a photon tubing of loops and flourishes. 

'The American dream…'

A broken, clipped shriek presses out the thin crack of busted glass and splinted wood ahead of him. 

'Oh, if life ain't grand.' 

What once were crying mothers standing in the breadline are mothers on the breadline, he thinks, some of that ol' Cooper Howard making a show again. He pushes that moralistic nuisance down and surveys the exterior once more, and… judging by the crude bullseye bloodstains on a single Brahmin skull, used creatively to keep the doors ajar (not to mention the smell)… they're cookin' folks on a spit inside. Fiends, most like…

Still, two hundred years later, the LACB is where folks get eaten alive every day.

Quiet-like, The Ghoul enters Feind territory, The Gun heavy front and center.

The aroma of fatty meat, both freshly shorn and sour, curls under his nasal ridge, drawing him through the decayed lobby. He steps carefully, spurs quite over toppled queue barriers, avoiding broken glass and crunchy piles of clothes. There's a burnt stroller with tiny bones and floral blankets he chooses to ignore, giving them and its mother's remnants a wide berth, focusing intently on the triangle of flickering firelight cutting from the ajar breakroom door. 

Silent as a corpse, The Ghoul leans into the doorway, The Gun raised, and takes in the gruesome scene he's seen a hundred times, both worse and better but never benign. Eventually, someday, he won't feel sick at the sight of such horrors. Who's to say whether that'll be a good day or not?

There's five of them, counting a naked woman hanging from a crude bleeding rail, 'cept she ain't being bled out, just cut down slow and sweet, as if the fear and pain is the finest marinade. Her body jolts, and another wail rattles his eardrums as a rail-thin Fiend saws off another strip of thigh meat from her bucking body, tits bouncing with delicate pockets of curvy fat jiggling deliciously. 

The Ghoul's stomach growls, and something else further south twitches, but his empty belly is more worried about being without food for much longer. Nothing but vials and rainwater means he's more inclined to find human flesh aromatic. Thankfully, the pretty rotisserie's screams are so fucking loud it makes his unceremonious entrance nigh fuckin' soundless. There's no reason to announce himself anyway—no reason to keep any of 'em alive for questioning since he's sure none of these boneheads have worked a computer system before, let alone know how to read logs.

The first slug blasts a hole into the back-head of the closest one: a suit-wearing twitchy son of a bitch sitting by the fire. Their brains spray across their friend's face, who yips as some chunky bits catch with a hiss in the fire. With the second one blinded by brain matter, The Ghoul turns at the hip and blows off the arm of a ratty-headed man still beating his own meat to dinner being sliced and spitted. A shot from his rotating revolver beneath the jawline into the brain puts that one down, even though chems seemed to have ruined it already. 

That leaves two left. 

The blind bastard's still swiping grey slop, blood, and skull chips from his eyes as his buddy rushes on The Ghoul's left with a sticky knife, leaving the girl to sway on her ropes, panting and cursing the Lord's name. This one's mean, sadistic… having enjoyed eating that smoothie alive. He's got janky teeth bared like an ape, poised and ready to take The Ghoul to his grave… again. 'Course, a quick backhand of The Gun stock puts him to the ground with a yelp, and two .357s to the chest keep him there. 

'Three down. One to go,' he muses, cracking his neck with a grunt as the last one curses and snarls. Still blind but jet-fueled, his eyes open and swimming in red offal, the remnants of his hit still smoking out his mouth. He stands like some western cowboy at a sunset showdown. The man even looks the part with two bandoliers and some sweet cowboy boots. Cooper Howard smiles with his straight white chompers as the Fiend tries to unholster a gun that ain't there, spewing nonsense through his teeth, but Coop's dead and gone. 

"Ugghh—fuggin'ghoul, ruin'dinna!"

The Ghoul's grin turns ugly and strong. He's the gunslinger—the outlaw—death personified by time and decay—somethin' outta Hollywood again, just not the good guy. 

With a snap, aim, and trigger pull, the last little Fiend's no more than maggot-meal slumped over The Ghoul's first empty-headed victim. Their dinner has been officially ruined, well… more like taken over. With the barrel still hot, The Ghoul turns to the naked smoothie with a careful eyeful of flesh, ignoring the way her gaze squints in fear before surveying his efforts with frenzied understanding. She's either gonna die or she ain't, and it's clear which one she thinks is 'bout to happen.

"P-please… please. I-I can… I can-"

"Hush those tears now, sweetheart," The Ghoul cuts her off, wetting his lips for a dry whistle before holstering The Gun, "I ain't here to eat ya." Though he turns to the fire, drawn in by the smell of cooked meat and sustenance—the promise of a full belly and a level head for a time… it'd just take a half-pound of juicy, tender-

'No… not yet.' 

It takes a heaping spoonful of willpower to turn away, to look back at her without seeing a hanging steak, begging him to sink his fangs in, tear apart, and swallow hole. But The Ghoul manages, somehow. With a Cheshire grin, he thumbs his hat up, brim lifted to show off his radiated smile—proof he means no harm. And when her breath slows and her eyes shine over his chops, he's only slightly surprised to find her more curious than afraid.

"Welp, it seems your dinner guest's got a little too careless, leavin' the door open like that an' all. Could be anyone come walking through those doors."

He takes a step closer, daring her to scrunch her nose in disgust, though she just blinks… some old tears falling off her lashes. Minus some missing meat, a bloodied face, one shiner, and… maybe two weeks of constant immune system shock, she's too healthy lookin' to be anything but a Vaultie. A pretty little thing that only good food, shelter, and generational-bred naivety could create. The Ghoul already don't care much for her.

"You from one of those Vaults." He doesn't ask, all ambivalence and peckish know-how. His survival instincts lure him from her to the spit over the fire again, where it looks like some of her thigh meat is slow roasting. She's lookin' real fuckin' tender over the licking flames…

"S-seven," she pants, shock and pain makin' her sound small, "V-v-vault seven…"

The Ghoul makes a sound of understanding, though he couldn't give two shits these days about which of the Big Four's Vaults she came from, even less which fucked up experiment they ran down there. For some reason, her being a Vaultie makes him even hungrier…

He glances back at her over his shoulder and smirks, all crude oil and a lil' starvation there, too, no doubt. It's been weeks since he's eaten, and before that, it was expired cram and a soggy snack cake, and she seems to know it. The smoothie can see it—notes the look in his eyes and deduces quickly what he's thinking. At first, she yanks on the rope, choosing to struggle against her bonds, though that works as well for her as before he showed up… 'cept it gives him another free show of the goods usually hidden from his eyes. Her tits are perfect.

That southbound lurch kicks up his belly, threatening to confuse his ache for food for something else, so The Ghoul snaps his teeth and points a leather-bound finger her way.

READ THE REST OVER on AO3 HERE

[lacontroller1991]

A Little Teaser

So I am no better than anybody else with a sudden interest in the Fallout fandom and I wanted to share my two cents on the matter. So, I am putting in a little snippet of a Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader fic I am working on amongst my other WIPS. I am looking to gauge interest, so please give any sort of feedback you guys can :) whether it be good or bad or ugly (ha see what I did there?)

“Please, sir, I’m begging you.” Shuffling slightly, you peer your head past the concrete wall, spotting two figures, one in a blue/yellow vault-tec suit and the other in a cowboy hat with a lasso around the girl. 

“Well I’d be damned,” it’s hushed and to yourself, afraid of him hearing and spotting you.

“I done told you vaultie, ain’t gonna happen. Are you deaf or sum?” His drawl sends chills down your spine as he nudges her forward with the tip of his gun. “Now hur-” his words are cut off by a coughing fit but his grip on the lasso remains. After regaining his breath, he wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “Hurry up. I ain’t got all day.” You watch in silence as the pair walks past your hideout, unaware of your existence. Grabbing your things, you rush off after them, making sure to stay in the shadows as your brain goes through different scenarios of what could happen. Would you and Cooper make up? Would he try to kill you? Would you try to kill him? Does he even care? The closer they get to the supermart, the more you hang back, hand slightly hovering over your gun. 

[fort-cozy-mcblanket]

Heeeey! Now that they announced that SHAMY will be on the ending of YS. Do you have any thing on your mind like what will be their scenario? Or what do you expect about their appearance?

For example, some says the ending will be Sheldon telling his whole childhood to Amy. Some says the ending will be them with kids. As an author, what do you have in mind?

I have gone through so many scenarios in my head since we got the news. It's been so exciting thinking about all the different possibilities. :)

I feel like present-day Sheldon's narration is because he's making a sort of podcast memoir, maybe not unlike Fun With Flags but with better production value. This would also explain how he's able to have others like Amy and Howard chime in. This might also explain away some of the inconsistencies between TBBT and YS, Sheldon (and whoever his helping him produce this) might be editing some aspects of his past to make it more palatable to the audience.

So I could see the series finale being a fade out from the YS story into the present day, where they're completing the final recording of the podcast and Amy is there with him. Maybe she's been helping him all along like she did with Fun With Flags. Maybe we'll get to see Leonard Cooper and their other kid(s) too. I'd really, really like it if we got a new Shamy kiss out of this as well, but that might be asking for too much. I still hope.

[verycleverboy]

And now, Social Security

A friend of mine just reshared a video of Howard Lutnick, Trump's Commerce Secretary, sharing his opinion of how a missed Social Security check isn't really that big a deal.

Let's say Social Security didn't send out their checks this month. My mother-in-law, who's 94, she wouldn't call and complain. She just wouldn't. She'd think something got messed up and she'll get it next month. A fraudster always makes the loudest noise, screaming, yelling and complaining.

Howard Lutnick, it should go without saying at this point, is obscenely wealthy, as most people in the Trump cabinet are. His net worth is between $2-4 billion, so presumably he could cover his mother-in-law if Social Security suddenly dropped out of existence. My mother, on the other hand, gets almost all of her retirement income from a monthly Social Security deposit. Even under the best of circumstances, it's a hand-to-mouth existence, which means if that deposit fails to show up even once, she'd have to make some hard decisions about which utilities would get stiffed that month, and where the grocery or gas money would come from. She usually ends the month running a deficit in her account.

That is, again, the best case scenario, and we'd be far from the only ones who'd be forced into that situation and worse.

Damn straight we'd make that call. Lutnick can go fuck himself.

Anyway, my friend saw that post and saw something interesting in the subtext of why we're even having this conversation: "Statements like this make me think they know they did something to break Social Security and they're holding their breath waiting for it to show up."

AND CUT TO...

Acting Social Security head consults with Justice Dept. on threat to close agency

Acting Social Security commissioner Leland Dudek said Friday that he is consulting with agency lawyers and the Justice Department as he threatens to shut down the agency in response to a court ruling blocking Elon Musk’s team from accessing sensitive taxpayer data. Judge Ellen Lipton Hollander of the U.S. District Court for the District of Maryland issued a two-week temporary restraining order Thursday that prohibits Social Security officials from sharing personally identifiable information with Musk’s U.S. DOGE Service, which has been empowered to carry out cost-cutting across the government. Hollander wrote that DOGE “essentially engaged in a fishing expedition at SSA, in search of a fraud epidemic, based on little more than suspicion,” and “never identified or articulated even a single reason for which the DOGE Team needs unlimited access to SSA’s entire record systems.” But in an interview Friday with The Washington Post, Dudek argued that the judge’s ruling was overly broad and that a reference to “DOGE affiliates” could apply to all employees who access personally identifiable information, or PII, because they are obligated to cooperate with DOGE. Dudek said the agency plans to file an affidavit as soon as Friday asking Hollander to clarify language in her ruling that he criticized as “ambiguous,” “overly broad” and “weirdly written.” “Everything in this agency is PII,” Dudek said. “Unless I get clarification, I’ll just start to shut it down. I don’t have much of a choice here.”

(full Washington Post article)

Here's another easy assumption: Dudek is an Elon stooge, a mid-level manager who was put on administrative leave after violating ethical standards for cooperating with the unprecedented privacy breach that allowed DOGE access to highly sensitive SSA information. If Musk has your Social Security number now, Dudek's the one who gave it to him. Dudek was put in his current position for demonstrating maximum compliance with ethical violations, which is the lens through which we should probably view his reasoning for that "might as well shut it down!" threat.

In summary, the Trumpist/Muskian incompetency machine has already caused a massive amount of pain and destruction in a record amount of time, and now they're literally coming for members of my family. Not a good feeling, to say the least.