#cooper howard scenario

[zvdvdlvr]

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.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Hi! (As you can notice from my likes, I recently finally watched Fallout after being seduced by Cooper) and as a fellow asthmatic I just love him wheezing and ready to buy him inhalers on my prescription... him drooling while he's trying to breathe?.. it might have awoken a spit kink in me 🤭

DON'T get me going on Cooper and the way him drooling everywhere all season works me up, or spit kinks in general (again). I already showed my hand pretty fully on that front with the mouth-spitting in Working Girl...

Prewar!Cooper would definitely like spit stuff, but not necessarily for the spit, itself, or the degradation/filth aspect of it. He likes it for the control, for the show of pure devotion to him when you let him do whatever he wants. He also likes the baseness of playing with saliva quite a bit; really enjoys super deep tongue-kissing.

However, with the Ghoul, it's very much a "best of both worlds" situation. The little flame of romanticism that still burns inside him thinks it's dreamy that you'd be so into him that you'd let him do things like that. But also, he just likes seeing you debase yourself a little.

He'll spit in your mouth, on your body...of course, he'll be spitting on whatever hole of yours he's using to jerk himself off with often (both because lubricating substances are rather tough to consistently find and because it makes you a little indignant when he does it), but he's personally quite fond of spitting on your tits. If asked, he'd have difficulty vocalizing why. Something about you just wearing his bodily fluids like that gets him going. Plus, it makes you smell more like him.

Both parts of his brain, the romantic and the primal, like that.

He'll spit in your face on the right day, but that sort of mood is more and more rare as time goes on. Unless you ask, of course, and ask correctly.

Him drooling more and more as his need for whatever is in those vials increases was a creative choice aimed directly at me and my personal moral failings, by the way. I just know it. Can you imagine having him entirely at your mercy and needing some, drooling and refusing to beg for the thing that could literally save his life? I can't envision him begging because he's such a stubborn old bastard, but I can envision him trading some very angry, very sloppy oral sex for a few vials.

Is that dark? Of course, but let's not act like he isn't completely capable of the very same behavior when he has something you need. God help you if you're traveling with him and you need water or medicine; he's gonna want to do more than spit in your mouth.

[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?

[eupheme]

So I finally watched Fallout. Really cool. Loved the main characters a lot. Totally going to be normal about it all 🫠 Also, if you're still taking requests, what about #10 "Spread your legs wider" with The Ghoul but in two different contexts? One where he's (begrudgingly) teaching reader how to shoot and another that's spicy.

ooh hi anon, I love this idea! 👀💖 these were such fun scenarios to explore together, I hope you like this! thank you so much for sending it in!

— on target

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 1.8k

Tags: weapon practice, pining, flirting, big dick cooper howard, parters-with-benefits, mutual mast, rough PiV

Two times the Ghoul tells you to spread your legs, and two times that you listen.

"Again."

You frown, a sideways glance from over your shoulder, "But I hit it."

A neat mark pierces clean through in the outlined target. Low and to the left, but still within the boundaries. A win in your book, compared to the mess where you started.

"That'd just slow a fella down, not kill 'em." The Ghoul snaps, "If you were aimin' for a head, you'd have missed. Again."

You sigh, as you peer down the sights. Somewhere along the way, your desire to learn became a desire to prove him wrong.

That you could be - would be - good at this.

Enough time spent watching him - drawing and firing before you can even blink - to know, out of anyone in the Mojave Wasteland, that you wanted it to be him to teach you.

But the Ghoul had been reluctant to show you how to shoot. Seemed content enough to handle things himself, when shit went down. A sneering curl of his lip, when you had asked.

"Shoot your own damn foot off, sweetheart," He scoffed, "Then were'd we be?"

You had pushed. Never begging, you wouldn't stoop to that. Just needling - a reminder of how much use you could be to him if you could truly have his back.

He had laughed. Hadn't needed someone in two-hundred years to do that. Doesn't know why he'd start to worry about someone watching his back now.

But, he relented. A small pistol pressed in your hand, with a spinning chamber and everything.

The next shot you take is closer, but still too low.

With a grunt, he's manhandling you. A hand at your waist, at the small of your back - moving you into position. His knee pressing to yours, a heavy boot nudging your own.

"Spread your legs wider, now." His voice is low in your ear, making you shiver, "Center your gravity."

Your body is slow to respond. Caught up in how close he is, how his touch feels electric - even through the layers.

"You listenin’, vaultie?" The sharp tone snaps you back, as you do as he says. Thighs inching wider, the curve of your ass pressing against his front.

"Good girl." He hums - the syllables drawing out - and it shoots straight through you.

A heat pounding in your cheeks as his hands still rest at your waist. Solid and unyielding, as he always was.

It takes a real effort to raise your arms and aim again. Inhaling a breath, and holding it.

His voice rough, as he rasps in your ear.

"Now, take the shot."

This time when you fire -

Your bullet hits dead center.

“Well, come on.” The Ghoul’s fingers pinch into your skin, “This was your idea now.”

As if he was no more than an innocent bystander. As if he doesn’t need this as much as you do, with the way he shifted into your wandering palm.

Your back arches, where it presses against the bedroll. Bare knees clamp against his waist. A boot lost to the wastes in your urge to rid yourself of clothing - pants and underwear in a twist around one of your shins.

Torn down after all that pent-up pressure finally came bubbling over.

“Spread ‘em wider, sweetheart.” There’s a tap against your thigh, a command in the low rasp of his voice. “Show me.”

Your heart thunders in your chest as you obey. Legs butterflying as they spread, dipping down as you open yourself up for him.

For once - instead of that laser focus on you, with that distrustful nature of his - those eyes dip down.

There’s a shark intake of breath. His fingers flex when he sees you - damp and glistening, as few things are out in the wasteland. The pretty gleam of your arousal as it drips from you.

Almost as if he means to touch. Sink two fingers deep, bury himself in you until you forget everything else.

Instead, they pinch against your hips. Slipping back up to work open that thick belt buckle. The sun glinting off ancient, yellowed resin as his layers loosen. Fingers closing around himself instead, easing the hard length free.

He’s thick, bigger than you thought. Your pulse spiking at the way his fingers, bigger than yours, just make it around. Ruined and red like the rest of him - though it doesn’t stifle the urge to part your lips and stick out your tongue.

The Ghoul’s chin dips down, when those eyes fix on yours again. A breath passes before realize what he wants - your own hand drifting. Your moan soft as the tips of your fingers press down, slowly sliding to your clit.

Teeth clenching down as your circle, aware of the sounds you make. Not just the hitch of your breath, but the loud, slick swirl of your fingers.

A betrayal, showing how much you need this - aching even before that first brush of his hands, guiding you into position.

His attentions transfixes you enough that you almost miss it. How his fist moves in tandem with yours, copying your rhythm.

It has your hips bucking into your touch, fingers rubbing just a little faster. Your lips parting with a harsh breath - torn between watching him get off to you, and wanting to see the look in his eyes doing it.

The decision makes itself - your eyes lifting until they’re dixing on each other, held until he makes a rough sound.

“Never seen you want somethin’ like this before,” He rasps, “You gonna ask nicely for this, too?”

His fingers tighten with the emphasis, squeezing. The tip gleaming with a pearl of precum, before it dribbles down to smear against his swollen tip.

Reminding you how you had needled at him to teach you, until he had barked a “fine, fuckin’ fine already-”. But this time, you can already feel that strung-tight wire inside you.

An innate knowledge that yes, it would be pleasurable to come with the heat of his gaze upon you - but to have his length buried deep, to come around his cock as he fucks you -

It would be incomparable.

“I need you,” You hear yourself beg.

“You need me to what?” His brow lifts, “Seems like you’re doin’ a fine job yourself.”

Your teeth grit, swallowing down your pride. The pace of your fingers just barely slowing - drawing it out, in the hopes he gives you what you need.

“Please,” The syllables draw out as you keen, “I need your cock, need you to fuck me-”

His eyes glitter in the afternoon sun, the cat that caught the canary.

“Where was this before, hm?” The Ghoul rasps, a twitch at the edge of his lips, “Could’ve gotten what you wanted a lot sooner, darlin’.”

Your answer comes out strangled, his hips moving just as your lips part. Fingers wrapped around his base to angle the tip. Nudging himself just inside the tight clench of your pussy - parting you open - before there’s the sharp forward punch of his hips.

It’s immediately too much.

The moan breaks, the air stolen from your lungs. Going from aching and empty to full in a second, all of your muscles going tight.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He breathes - jaw gritting the same way when he had looked at you, on that last day of practice, “Gonna snap it clean off if you don’t relax.”

That hunger etched so clearly across your face, his hands still resting on your hips. Tired of the teasing. The flit of his hands and the shift of his hips into yours. The rock of his thigh against your core, just as you were about to fire.

“Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish, sweetheart.” It had been rough in your ear, a warning and a challenge.

But if you could handle his gun - you could handle him, too.

With your own little snarl and a tilt of your head, you had kissed him. It feels like a dream, now, even though it was only a few moments ago.

And it’s only been a breath since you’ve been full of him, but each second lengthens. Your sounds bleeding into a whine as he starts to move - hands grasping at your hips, the thrusts starting shallow and turning longer.

“Not my fault.” You huff, that sharp sting easing into a syrupy warmth as he starts to move, “Didn’t tell me you were packing a-, a sarsaparilla bottle down there.”

“Is that right?” Lips wide stretch over stained teeth, “Can’t say I’ve heard that before.”

Your strangled laugh becomes a groan, as your start fingers swirl again. This is how it should be, you think - stuffed to the brim with him, as you bring yourself to the brink.

Eclipsing your quiet fumbling in the dark, the bitten-back hiss of pleasure. No more than a relief of tension and a way to sleep. Now, it’s so much more than that. The pleasure mounting, clicking upward - a geiger counter in the wastes.

Only for your cunt to tighten around him - a new wash of desire crashing over you - when the Ghoul inches his thighs wider. Arcing over you - his eyes narrowing when yours go wide, lips parting with a breathless gasp.

You wonder if he’s had as much practice with this, as he has with that gun of his. This new tilt of his hips sends him against a sensitive spot inside you, the tip nudging against it again and again.

He must, with the way he bares his teeth - the rough chuckle at the “oh fuck” that loosens from your throat.

The sound is like the sharp scrape of steel against flint to your ears. It would be startling if you didn’t know him the way you do.

“D-Don’t stop.” You beg again - the heel of a foot hitching to dig into his back, keeping him close, “Oh, you’re gonna make me come.”

“That’s the idea, sweetheart.” He growls - but for once he listens. That pace staying steady, his own chest heaving as you writhe beneath him.

Hips bucking to meet the sharp slap of his. Your touch too harsh, too needy. Pulling you to the edge with the realization that he wants to feel you come around him.

Just like he wanted to see you hit that target.

It’s that flicker of knowledge that sends you over.

The grin he gives you is near feral. Your head tilting back as the pleasure floods through you, sending your nerves endings alight.

Barely able to hear the soft echo of his words before.

“Good girl.”

thanks so much for reading! I have a few more requests I am working on, can’t wait to share them when I am done! 💖

[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.

[anamelessfool]

Time to reintroduce myself I am ANamelessFool. I write a Ghost AU that is supernatural horror with lots of platonic angst. Platonic/Domestic angst is my specialty and why I'm here.

Yes there's hot sex but it's all rolled up in there like the peanutbutter cups in your moose tracks Plot and Worldbuilding ice cream

I am also writing a Cooper Howard x Overseer! Reader Fallout fic with a lot of crazy scenarios. A few guys heads explode, you get to eat rattlesnake and Coop lost way more than just his nose out there in the wasteland

Nice to meet ya

[staarboyyy]

┏━━━━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━━━━┓

-ˋˏ [ bowie | 19 | any pronouns ] ˎˊ-

┗━━━━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━━━━┛

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ⏳ ₒ ‍ ‍

┆ ┆ ┆ *:･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 ]

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✩°｡⋆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 ]

✩°｡⋆ 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

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

feeling veryyyy normal thinking about being offered as part of bounty to the ghoul because the bounty poster doesn’t end up having the caps they promised him. and they need to pay him somehow. they’ll offer him their lil captive vaultie as payment for the rest. 👉🏻👈🏻 will he accept?🫣

A Fair Trade

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 3,980

Warnings: smut (18+), p in v sex, oral (m receiving), creampie, sex as payment for debt, human trafficking typical of the Fallout universe.

Summary: The Ghoul always gets what's owed to him.

Notes: Oh, wow! My first submission-type ask! I'm genuinely super flattered and totally open to doing more. I initially ballparked that this would be around 2,500 words and it ended up almost 4,000 because I have no self control when it comes to this man. I will try to keep other submissions a little shorter, generally, to hopefully get them out quicker.

To the anon: This may have turned out...sweeter than you may have envisioned? Maybe that's not the word. Less rough? If so, my apologies! I hope you still enjoy.

Things had been...unfortunate for you since you had decided to leave your vault.

Looking for a taste of something new, chasing the feeling that the world had other things for you to experience, you had managed to make it to the nearest settlement of any import with only a few scrapes and bruises. But, regrettably, you lacked a true understanding of how cruel and selfish people on the surface could be, and you quickly ended up the captive of some random outpost runner.

Well, you'd been traded to the outpost runner. You still weren't quite sure how that had come about, even after weeks and weeks had passed, but, frankly, the scrawny, dirty man was a lot less scary than the guy who had initially captured you. He wasn't not scary by any means (no one up here really was, as far as you could tell); he still confiscated your things and locked you into the small room in the back that you were fairly confident was intended to be a closet every night, but he hadn't really done anything to hurt you so far. You were given a pillow, at least.

But you were growing increasingly uneasy with not knowing what his plans for you were. Worst case scenario, you guessed, he could kill and eat you like you'd heard some surface people did, but that didn't seem to be the case. Nevertheless, the way he eyeballed you, "accidentally" brushed against you with increasing frequency, made you uneasy. Maybe he'd bought you to be his wife, or whatever the Wasteland equivalent would be. You imagined that in the next few weeks he'd offer you more favorable sleeping accommodations...so long as you shared them with him.

Maybe you could accept, kill him in his sleep and flee. You really didn't treasure the idea of ending someone's life, but...you needed to get out of here, and soon.

The sound of the creaky, rusted front door hinges flexing drew your attention, distracting you from your bloody ruminations and the pile of scrap you'd been sorting through. The front office hadn't been loud, but the small murmur of voices instantly faded, a clatter of movement towards the door, followed by some very familiar sounding footfalls. He was back.

The tall, noseless, rad-ravaged man made his way in multiple times a month, sometimes even multiple times a week when the bounties were easy and the work was plentiful. You'd seen each other somewhat often the past few weeks, as your keeper had begun to allow you to clean and assist in the front of the office more and more. It was both better and worse; the days passed with less tedium and you got to see some of the interesting characters the desert produced. However, many of those characters sized you up with predatory eyes, as if they were estimating how many caps they could sell your flesh for in their heads. The ghoul had yet to give you that feeling, interestingly enough.

You'd heard whispers all over town about him, about all the things he'd apparently done, how he was supposedly hundreds of years old. You didn't believe that for a single second. After all, despite his fascinatingly gruesome appearance, he was just a man, wasn't he? A man with very advanced radiation sickness (and a rather unfriendly general disposition), but a man nonetheless.

Sometimes, you felt as if he was certainly looking at you the way a man would. You were unsure, frankly; social etiquette was so vastly different on the surface than it was at home. It sure seemed like he let his eyes linger on you, on your body. Perhaps he was simply curious about you, as you were about him; most people seemed afraid to even look his way, or too disgusted by his condition to even consider it.

"You wanna run that by me again?"

Your ears pricked up instantly at the tone in the ghoul's voice, your heckles raising as you sensed trouble. Tiptoeing towards the door to the front room, you stood as close as you dared, shoulder touching the rotting door frame as you listened in.

"I told you, we were robbed a few nights ago. I don't have the full payment for you right now. This is everything I've got."

You knew your keeper was lying, about the robbery, at least; the place was so small that if anyone had been in to steal anything, you'd have certainly known about it. Whether or not he really had the caps, you didn't know, but you supposed he didn't, figuring that he wouldn't take the risk of pissing off the ghoul if he did. You had overheard him discussing gambling on a few occasions.

"Well, you better find something to make me whole, quick." came the ghoul's acidic reply.

On some level, you understood his frustration. The work was done, the bounty delivered. Un-delivering it wouldn't make up for all the time he'd put in. But, you also knew his reputation for being unforgiving, and you felt a chill run up your spine as you began to fear that he would kill your keeper and you if he didn't find some sort of satisfaction soon.

"I don't have anything worth anything. I told you, this is all I have." the scrawny man shot back, trying to sound confident, tough.

However, based on the way his voice trembled and faltered, the uneasy way he cleared his throat, you suspected the ghoul knew he was lying, too, confirmed only a moment later by what you were certain was the sound of a gun thwish-ing out of its holster and cocking. Your heart flew up into your throat, hammering even harder when, a second later, the lighter sounds of the scrawny man's footsteps rapidly approached the door of the back office. Scrambling back towards the desk, you'd only closed about half the distance when the door flew open, the man grabbing at you almost blindly, his long, dirty nails digging into your exposed wrist as he dragged you, protesting, out behind the counter.

"Hey!" you hissed, trying your best to snatch your arm back out of his grip and failing, infuriatingly. You were momentarily blinded with outrage that he would offer your body to someone to cover his own debts, though you supposed that was just how people did things in this awful place. Your eyes, feeling like they could pop out of your head they were so wide, flew to the man on the other side of the counter, who was assessing you with a look you couldn't read.

"What about her?" the scrawny man asked, and that was the final straw. If things were going to get worse for you, you weren't just going to accept it with a smile. The fingers on your free hand curled into a fist, which you smashed into the side of his face, causing him to release your arm in shock. Almost instantly, he jerked towards you, but the Ghoul pointed the modified pistol in his hand further into his face, stopping him.

"Now, how're you gonna offer me merchandise and then try to damage it in front of me?" he said, speaking to the man, but not looking at him. He was still looking at you, an intrigued glint in his eyes. They were...pretty, actually. Warm and golden brown. Was he really thinking about taking the offer? You'd be lying if you said you weren't curious about what his body would be like underneath all the layers of clothing. However, the entire situation had your walls up high, your whole body trembling slightly.

The Ghoul stepped slowly around the counter towards you; the scrawny man shrunk away, the gun still pointed in his direction, while you held your ground, doing your best to keep your head held high as he stepped right into your bubble, your chests almost touching as he seemed to really size you up. After a moment of incredibly tense silence, his eyes moved to the door, then back to yours. Slowly, he lowered the gun.

"Alright. C'mon, Vaultie." he said simply, turning on one foot to make his way back to the other side of the counter. You hesitated, but soon moved to stand beside him, a surreal feeling washing over you.

"Hey! No fucking way, man! You can't just take her for keeps. She's worth way more caps than I owe you!"

The man was even more red-faced than usual, his tone downright indignant, but he didn't step out from behind the counter to follow.

"Ah, but, see, once we factor in the interest on my missed payment, hurt and suffering, on top of my 'you're a dumbshit' fee...I think it's a wash, personally." the Ghoul replied, leaning back over the counter into the man's dirt-speckled face. He clearly wasn't in a place of strength to negotiate, and his angry gaze moved to you again before he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"What the fuck ever." he grunted.

You felt your body relax noticeably as the bulk of the conflict seemed to pass. However, there was a small amount of unfinished business you wanted to address before you left this place. You crossed your arms, turning your narrowed eyes to your former keeper, feeling emboldened with the Ghoul standing at your back.

"Where's my bag you took from me?"

Soon, you were back in possession of your things, including your Pip Boy, which you fretted over as you and your new keeper set out the door and into the desert heat. As you walked, you flexed the sore fingers on your hand absentmindedly. Soon, you were pouring sweat, pausing briefly to peel the top half of your vault suit down to your waist, tying the sleeves around you hips. The Ghoul appraised you silently as you did, taking a hit off of an inhaler from his pocket before continuing on.

As grateful as you were to be away from the trading outpost, away from the scrawny man and his uneasy ways, you couldn't help but worry in the back of your mind, fret at the possibility that you were going somewhere worse. It was being too trusting that got you into your situation to begin with. You worried at your lip with your teeth as he began to direct you down the road, his hand flat and firm between your shoulders. You weren't sure if the gesture was intended to be one of comfort, or if he was simply ready to snatch you up by the back of your vault suit if you decided to try to run.

The two of you walked in complete silence in the direction of the setting sun for what felt like a hundred miles. In truth, your Pip Boy revealed that you'd only gone a single mile and some change when the sun fully dipped behind the horizon, granting some blessed relief from the sweltering heat. You kept on a while longer, until the stars began to appear; eventually, the man veered from the decrepit highway, steering you to a little alcove in the rocky hillside, barely big enough to be a coyote's den.

"Alright, we'll bed down here for the night. Gettin' too dark to keep walkin'." he said, dropping his bag on the ground in a little cloud of dust as he turned to survey the site suspiciously.

You stood waiting for him to direct you, your fingers wrapped tight around the straps of your backpack, watching as he checked around wordlessly. After a few minutes, you chose one of the flatter rocks around and sat against it, watching as he built a small fire, inhaling some of the rations that had been hid away in your bag. Eventually, the ghoul threw himself down on the other side of the flames, facing the highway, and did the same, tucking into something canned from his bag. Things were quiet for a while, but eventually he spoke to you again, his voice pulling you away from fidgeting with with your Pip-Boy.

"Y'know, you're insanely lucky he didn't sell that thing. Can get quite a bit for a functional one these days. Moron didn't know what he had." he said, still chewing.

You blinked at him, your eyes flitting between the gadget on your arm and him, unsure how to respond. Briefly, you felt a growing sense of apprehension, but he must've sensed it, as he rolled his eyes and sighed softly as he swallowed.

"I'm just sayin' you're lucky you still have it, kid. Don't piss your pants. Trust me, if I wanted that thing, I'd have taken it from you already." he said, tossing the now-empty can over his shoulder.

You nodded silently, willing the tension out of your spine as you watched him dig around inside the oiled leather saddle bag once more. He produced a silver flask and a canteen, taking long pulls off of one, then the other. He then took another drag off of the inhaler he'd been puffing as you walked. Eventually, he stood, gave his back a stretch, and shrugged the long, tattered duster from his shoulders, splaying it out quickly on the ground behind him before turning back to face you.

"Alright, darlin'. Get your little ass over here."

You felt yourself freeze almost completely, your head turning sharply towards him. He hadn't said anything about the initial deal for so long that you weren't sure he was actually interested.

"What? I accepted you in lieu of payment. That means you are the payment, sweetheart. And I do intend to collect." he said, plainly amused, sinking down to the ground, his back sliding against the red rock behind him. "Besides, I've seen the way you look at me. Don't pretend you're not curious."

Your cheeks instantly felt agonizingly hot; had you been that obvious in your interest in him? Every day, something new in this place made you feel so silly, so naive. But, at the same time...he wasn't wrong. He might be rough-looking overall, but he'd been kind to you so far, and he did have quite a nice build. Besides, it had been weeks since you'd felt sufficiently alone enough to masturbate. A tad awkwardly, you went to lift yourself to walk to him when he cut you off.

"Mmm. How about you crawl?"

You felt your face twist into a mask of indignant confusion, and he chuckled. Hesitating, you made measured eye contact with him over the flames, quickly realizing, as those mischievous eyes glinted back at you, that he was serious. You swallowed hard, pulling yourself slowly onto your hands and knees before crawling the half-circle around the small fire as quickly and as dignified as possible, though there felt like there was very little dignity in it anyway. You stopped at his feet, kneeling with your hands on your thighs and looking up at him, trying your hardest to not seem as nervous as you felt.

"Take your shirt off." he ordered, head tilted as he watched you quickly pull the grimy undershirt over your head, tossing it near your bag. The night air was cool on your bare breasts, your sensitive nipples quickly peaking into hard little nubs that stung slightly. You wanted to press your warm palms to them, soothe the ache, but you didn't want him to think you were trying to cover yourself, so you simply sat, staring again, waiting for further instructions.

He grinned at you, leaning forward into your space, his gloved fingers stroking along your jaw, sliding a single one under your chin to lift your eyes fully to his. They were just as pretty glinting in the dying firelight as they had been in the outpost office.

"Y'know, you take direction pretty well, Vaultie. I like that in a lady." he said, tone low and conspiratory.

Your entire face burned now, even your eyes feeling hot, but that fire spread its way down into your core, blooming between your thighs, and you shifted slightly to press them together harder.

Reaching down, he made quick work of the belt holding up his pants and his fly, tugging free a cock that was about as red as the rest of him, the bulbous head glistening with precum already in the yellow-orange glow of the fire. Your tongue darted out to swipe at your lower lip, and you crawled up his legs to look closer. The Ghoul seemed surprised, leaning back ever so slightly from you as you came near, giving you room to move close and wrap your hand around him, drawing out a long hiss from between his yellowed teeth.

"Right on it, eh?" he chuckled almost breathlessly. "I like that in a lady, too."

You shot him a bit of a chastising look as you began to work your hand up and down over him, your free fingers coming to play along the weeping slit of him, earning another groan. He was a pretty average length for his height, you thought, but thick and already almost completely hard. It didn't seem like it would take much work to get him the rest of the way there. Your musings were interrupted by the feeling of his leather glove brushing against the swell of your breast before encaging the whole thing in his palm, massaging almost reverently. You whimpered when he plucked at your other nipple, sending shocks down your spine and straight to your already throbbing clit.

"Let's see what that pretty mouth is good for, hmm?"

Embarrassingly, you immediately dropped your head, pushing your body flat so you were sort of lying between his spread legs, bringing your lips down to hover a few inches above his leaking cock head. Tongue darting out to lap up a little taste of the shiny slickness there, you hummed; he tasted different than you were expecting, sort of the same, but with an almost metallic edge. You ran your tongue in a full circle around his tip, clenching around nothing when he groaned throatily, his right hand sliding through the dirt beside him.

"Fuck." he spat out when you unhinged your jaw, allowing the first few inches of him to fill your mouth, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking hard as your left hand continued to work the base of him. More and more precum leaked from the slit as you tongued at it, the taste and the knowledge that you were arousing to him making you rub your thighs together shamelessly.

"Play with your pussy." he commanded, clearly struggling to keep his tone even. Beneath you, you could feel his hips rocking almost imperceptibly. He didn't need to tell you twice; you could already tell you'd soaked through your underwear as you wrestled your hand down into your pants, pushing the wet gusset aside to rub tight circles around your swollen bud, moaning around his cock at the feeling.

The sound seemed to really turn him on, one of his hands suddenly moving to fist into your hair, the slight pain at the roots making you throb. His other hand came to cup your jaw again, holding you in place as he fully fucked his hips up into your waiting mouth, cussing under his breath as you continued to push yourself closer to orgasm. He kept you like that for a few long minutes, your neck cramping slightly by the time his thumb reached down, wiping away some drool that was dribbling down your chin. Bleary eyed, you looked up at him pleadingly. His answer was a wicked chuckle, his grin less of a smile and more a predator bearing his teeth.

"Blowin' a ghoul turn you on that much, cutie? What would the other vaulties think?" he tutted, shaking his head. "I think it's time you get on my cock."

Blushing hard at his little taunt, you could feel his burning gaze as you pulled yourself back up into a sitting position, tugging your boots off and setting them aside before shimmying the suit the rest of the way off, along with your underwear. A shiver broke down your spine as a small breeze hit you, your fire pretty much nothing but glowing embers now. However, when you pulled yourself back onto his lap, sighing as you ground your wet slit against his erection, you found that he was pleasantly warm feeling, bringing your hands up to his chest so you could lean over just enough to reach between you and position his cock at your entrance.

Too afraid of injuring yourself to attempt to take him all in one move, you instead opted to sink down onto the head, wriggling your hips before pulling them back up, then sinking down again, gently bouncing yourself down onto him. The man beneath you was tense, his hands kneading at your breasts as he huffed and hissed his way inside you. By the time you'd worked yourself most of the way down onto him, his hands moved to your hips, gripping them deliciously tight as you bobbed up and down on his length. For as cocky as he'd been before, he was pretty clearly struggling to keep his cool now.

One of your hands moved up from his chest, leaving you unsteadily balancing on one hand as the other pinched your nipple the same way he had before, making you cry out like a wounded animal. He must've liked that, as well, as his hands immediately yanked you the rest of the way down onto him, your ass resting flush against his hips. You repeated the sound again, higher, more strangled as he sat so deep inside you, the fat tip of him strumming away at something amazing right behind your belly button. It was too dark to make out much of anything, but you could feel the way his body twitched and bucked beneath you, strung tight as a bow.

The Ghoul's hands were digging deep into the fat of your hips, so hard you knew you'd bruise, restricting your movement, forcing you to swivel and grind your hips against him, the angle putting delicious friction on your poor aching clit and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body began to clench around him rhythmically, and his hand quickly appeared on your clit in the dark, rubbing surprisingly deft stripes up and down the puffy flesh until you were suddenly gasping for air, trembling hard against his chest as he fucked up into your heat roughly, sloppily, the hand that wasn't on your clit slapping you hard on the ass. Suddenly, he let out a long, low groan, and you could feel the hot throbbing of him pumping his cum inside you, his hips stuttering as you let yourself slump halfway against him. There was a sudden metallic taste in your mouth. For several long moments, there were no sounds but your co-mingled harsh breaths and sound of the wind swirling the sand across the foothills.

After you'd finally caught your breath, you made a move to extract yourself from him. He promptly stopped you, flipping you onto your back, the smell of the duster's rich leather curling in around you as he kept grinding his hips into your overstimulated cunt. It drew an embarrassing squeal from you, hands flying to his chest once more before being rather playfully batted away.

"Oh, no, sweetheart. Nice as that was, your buddy owed me quite a bit of money. I think you'll be paying me back in installments." he growled in your ear, one hand moving around to give your ass a firm squeeze as you gave another clench around him. Your mind, foggy with sex, wandered to the Radaway still stashed in your bag.

It was going to be a long night.

[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.

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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.......

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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.

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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