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finniestoncrane · 9 months ago

Note

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

��I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way. Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl… good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

#fallout #fallout amazon #if this flops I’ll nuke everything by the way this fuckin behemoth stressed me out so much lmaooo #x reader #finnie writes #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fic #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard one shot #cooper howard smut #cooper howard imagine #fallout tv #fallout tv series #walton goggins #cooper howard x fem!reader

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callmewisteria · 2 years ago

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the fact i was first introduced to fallout by one of the pre generated minecraft worlds for the wii when i was in middle school adds another special layer of nostalgia to this series i love so much

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plutoswritingplanet · 9 months ago

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Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader)

a/n: as promised, here's the full chapter. as a person who's only played skyrim and oblivion, writing for fallout is like throwing a hot dog into an empty corridor (i will not elaborate)

Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Attempted Kidnapping, Medical Malpractice, Cooper is a mean old man with a boner. Takes place before the events of the TV series.

Summary: The Ghoul takes up a bounty that has been gathering dust for quite some time. You, bored out of your mind, decide getting kidnapped might be the perfect way to entertain yourself. Both of you bite off more than you can chew. Cross-Posted on AO3

PT. 2

Copper knows this job will be different, before he even decides to take it up.

Scribbled with flaky charcoal, your face looks at him from the notice board every time he delivers a bounty. For months now, a humble title of "The Healer" hangs without change, between criminals, raiders, and people who were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Cooper hasn't considered going for you, it was never his first choice. The bounty on your head was moderately low, in comparison to your notice board neighbors. He had other priorities, bigger than a smeared over pretty face, for half his usual reward.

Until one day, as he stomped his way through the dusty floor, his eyes caught onto your wanted poster yet again.

Well, to be frank, his eyes strayed towards your portrait almost every time he crossed the threshold, but he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself. Like a constant companion, overlooking all his accomplishments since he decided to stick around the place, your empty gaze followed every transaction, every head delivered onto the table. Some semblance of a routine, he supposed, looking over the board.

There, under the regular information, freshly painted numbers stared back at him. A new bounty, significantly bigger than any reward on the board. The red paint was still dripping down the yellowed paper, the addition must've been made quite recently.

A hefty price. One, that would supply him with enough chems to last for half a year at least. Tempting. Especially now, that he's down to only a couple of vials, his coughing fits becoming longer and closer between. So tempting, in fact, that he tears your wanted poster from the board, finally getting a closer look, a deliberate one.

Booker gives him a raised eyebrow, all the commentary needed, encapsulated in this simple gesture, and Cooper shoots him a nasty look. There aren't many requirements regarding the job, except one, annoying detail.

You have to be alive and in good condition.

Now, alive Cooper could do. Alive is easy. Good condition, however, opened a whole shitbag of problems, which he would be a fool to overlook. Still, the prospect of such money couldn't be ignored. And, he'd be damned to admit it, but he was curious. Who were you? Why haven't you been caught for such a long time? What caused this sudden raise in bounty?

- Did you piss someone off that bad, little lady? - he asks the yellowed paper, and gets no answer, as expected.

***

The bar is filled with patrons, all tripping over themselves to loose as many caps on cheap alcohol and chems from under the table. It's not as rowdy, as one would expect. This settlement must be one of the few more civilized ones, for the Wasteland's standards at least. Farmers, mechanics, shopkeepers, they all clam together, smelling of smoke, sweat, and alcohol.

You're here too, hunched over your drink with a sour expression. Your shoulders are slumped, covered by a piece of cloth, that used to be a shawl, but currently looks more like a rag used to wipe down countertops. Despite that, Cooper sees in the way your body is poised, taunt and graceful, that you're neither a naive Vault Dweller, nor a scruffy raider. A skinny scarf is tied around your neck in a fashion, that reminds Cooper of the old westerns he used to star in.

The sudden influx of memories is neither wanted, nor useful, and he clicks his teeth in annoyance at his own betraying mind.

The Healer, he thinks to himself, making his way through the crowds, until he reaches the side of the bar, one seat from you. Not a glance is spared in his direction. The townsfolk must be used to seeing Ghouls run around the place. Still, when he orders a glass of moonshine, out of the corner of his eye, he can see you peaking at him with curiosity. There's a intelligent glint in your eye, and Cooper feels a shiver of curiosity climbing up his back. He scolds himself for being too old imediately after.

By all that's holy, you look tired. And not the kind of tired, that sticks to a person living in the Wastelands, no. It's the exhaustion of a shitty day, dragging your eyelids down to flutter against creeping up sleep. The alcohol can't be helping your state, however, it will most definitely help Cooper. He almost feels sorry for you, but if your dumb enough to leave yourself in the open like that, while being hunted, there's nothing more he can do but take advantage.

Cooper turns his face ever so slightly towards you, looking over your expression for any signs of recognition. He sees none, more than that, there is no emotion at all, not even a blink at his fucked up face. Raising his hand, he touches the rim of his hat in a wordless greeting.

That finally wrenches some resemblance of a reaction out of you, and with a blink, you tip your glass towards him, before downing its contents. Your cheeks are flushed, lips wet with remnants of moonshine and there's a lock of hair falling out of place, and damn it, Cooper suddenly feels so old.

Ordering drinks while in your current state wasn't the most intelligent thing you could've done. The harsh taste of alcohol burned your throat in a way that was less than pleasant, and for a moment you consider turning to some good old chems for help with... Well everything really.

It started with Old Lady Sal.

You've replaced her hip a while back with some scrap metal and a fuckload of reused body parts. Now, every other day she demands you check it out, make sure it's in working order. Which it always is. This isn't your first replaced hip, you know what you're doing.

Then, you had to sit through the insanely uncomfortable marriage offer from Old Lady Sal's grandson, who is not only dumb as a bag of rocks, but also fourteen.

And to top it all off, suddenly everyone needs you to solve their particular pains of the day. There must be an epidemic of aching heads sweeping through the town, because as soon, as you flee from Old Lady Sal's home, you're being hounded by everyone and their mother, looking to you for help. You were in town for two hours, and your herbs reserve went down to one fucking leaf.

The Ghoul keeps looking at you from under his hat, and at this point it's gotten from uncomfortable, to straight up creepy. You were not about to pretend this stranger's interest in your particular person didn't unnerve you. Although, thanks to your mother's efforts, and later your own, the town practically worshipped the ground you walked on, the same could not be said about the rest of the Wasteland.

You had enemies. You had people, who would love to get their hands on you. You were also deeply aware of the bounty placed on your person. Last you checked, it was quite small, but Ghouls don't have it easy out there, and if there's anyone looking like a bounty hunter in this fine establishment, it's the shady guy giving you a shameless once-over.

So, you place a couple of caps on the counter, and gather yourself best you can.

Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach was not the best idea, because as soon as you slide off the barstool, your head does a flip. Your balance completely off, you trip over your own feet, already accepting the floor, as your soon-to-be companion.

That's when something strangely warm wraps itself around your waist, hoisting you up against the counter. The Ghoul smells just about as pleasant as one would expect, but moonshine is a powerful sedative, and instinctually, you lean into the warm embrace. Eyelids flutter, as you look up into the sunken eyes of your savior, and you can see his throat move, as he swallows thickly.

- Careful now, sweetheart - the voice is low and reminds you of wind whistling through leaves - Gotta keep you in good condition.

Now, if you were completely sober, or at least less drunk, those words would fire an orchestra of alarm bells in your head. Instead, you smile, teeth on full display, as you reach up, to undo a tattered scarf from around your neck.

- Mmm - you sigh, throwing the piece of cloth across the Ghoul's shoulders - My hero.

Then, you grab onto his arm, still holding a tight grip around your waist, and lift it up by the sleeve of his coat. Despite your drunken disposition, you duck under the limb gracefully, and shoot the Ghoul a nasty, fully aware smirk. Realization flickers across his face, but before he can move to catch you, a series of body-wrecking coughs shakes his entire frame.

You hesitate just for a second. The instinct to help is ingrained into your very being, passed down like a mantle from your angel of a mother. But then, self-preservation kicks in, and as the strager reaches into the pocket of his coat, to find his inhaler, you're already out the door, throwing yourself into a mad dash towards your cabin.

You were drunk, not stupid.

***

The sun has barely had time to rise, when you're rudely awoken by the sound of a fist, pounding desperately on your front door. Hard enough to make the hinges squeak and shake.

It tears you from your already light sleep, and you scramble to your feet, hastily pulling a shirt over your head, as you make your way towards the entrance. Hand on your pistol, you look out through the small space between two planks, which make up your door.

It's not hard to understand what is happening. You remember one of the men standing outside your door from the nearby town. Benny or something like that, you were never good at remembering names. Hanging on his arm was another, barely breathing man, who was currently bleeding out right onto your porch. Pete. This one you recognize as a farmer and a hunter. You've treated multiple bites and scratches on him. So did your mother.

Cursing under your breath, you undid all the makeshift locks with record speed, throwing the door open.

- I'm sorry to bother your so early in the morning Healer - you wince at the title, already making a beeline for the table in your kitchen - Pete and I were just...

Both men follow you closely behind, Pete's boots making a disgusting, sloshing noise.

- Put him here, face up - you command, throwing a couple of papers to the floor.

- ...Coming back from a night hunt, and this fucking Ghoul was asking around town about you...

- Cut his shirt - another command, thrown over your shoulder, as you begin to rummage through a cabinet filled with chemicals and various herbs, barely registering the words.

- ...And when we started asking questions back at him, he just shot Peter, right then and there...

You pluck a couple of twisted, dried herbs into your trusty, stone mortar, spitting into it, to gather some moisture. Throwing a semi-clean rag at the man, your voice cuts through his rambling.

- Put pressure on it.

There is no exit wound, and you almost sigh with annoyance at the prospect of fishing out a bullet. It had to be done, however, putting your sleep depriation and a building headache aside, you scoop out some of the herbal paste with your fingers, before pushing past the man.

- Hold his legs down - you mutter, taking a blink-and-you-miss-it moment to check Pete's temperature.

- ...Thankfully, he didn't kill Pete on the spot, so I brought him here straight away.

Pete flinches on the table, as you apply the paste to the wound. That's about as big of a reaction he's capable of, given the amount of blood he just spilled onto your porch. Another thing to clean up, after you take care of the table. What a way to start a fucking day. You can see his eyes follow your movements, barely conscious, but still alive. Sweat beads and gathers at his brow, and you reach out with a clean rag, to dab it off his skin.

Then, as if coming out of a stupor, your eyebrows scrunch together. The story of this faithful encounter finally registering in your brain.

- A man was asking about me? - you ask, despite already knowing the answer.

- Well, kinda. A Ghoul.

You knew which Ghoul, it was not difficult to piece together.

- And he didn't kill Pete, just injured him - you can feel another headache brewing just behind your eyes, as the sheer stupidity of the man in front of you finally comes to the surface.

They led him to you.

Three, steady knocks to your door, smug and confident, interrupt the conversation, and deep down you can see the future of every person present in this cabin. As if you've developed some magical powers.

Stilling your suddenly trembing hands, you settle the mortar back on the table. Thenyou instruct the man to keep pressure once more. Covering yourself with a robe you got as payment for stitching up a sliced finger, you make your way to the door. Fabric flows around your feet, shuffling like the wings of a moth.

Your eyes flicker to the side, where, placed against a wall, stands a small end table. Under it, you've hidden a rather large kitchen knife, and for a second you debate, whether going for it now would be the best course of action. Call it dumb optimism, but deep down, you pray this is some big misunderstanding, and you'll be allowed to go back to your patient, preferably sooner than later.

There's no need to bother with a gun, no time too. Pete is bleeding out faster than a stuck pig, and you were not one to leave your customers unsatisfied. Or, in this particular line of work, dead.

The door opens with a slam. There's a small indent in the wooden wall, where the door handle has hit the surface. The cabin is slowly entering the state of ruin, although, some places are more taken care of than others. Still, it has a roof, a semi intact entrance and even a window with actual glass in it. Quite the luxury in the Wastelands.

Cooper didn't know what to expect, not really. Seeing you for the first time gave him a mixture of varying feelings, as well as a rather uncomfortable throbbing in the nether regions. Who could blame him, really? Your wanted poster gave you no favors, and although he was able to recognize you almost immediately, he still felt slightly short of breath.

He scolds himself for getting distracted by his thoughts, and as your eyes lock down on him, he lifts the barrel of his gun, touching the rim of his hat. Your eyes shift like little sparkling gems onto the weapon, before your jaw locks.

- Salutations Ma'am - his voice is rough from lack of use, the southern twang even more prominent, than usual. - I believe our introduction was cut short.

Yellowed teeth flash in a mirthless smirk, and then his expression tightens.

Cooper is used to people reacting, let's say, negatively towards him. Fear is the most common, and he can't blame the masses, he really can't. Disgust, as well, happens quite often. But as he looks over your feverish gaze, he can't really see either one of the emotions.

No, what you give him is an annoyed roll of your eyes, and he's surprised to say, it bothers him more than he'd be comfortable admitting. He's a goddamned bounty hunter, a ruthless one at that, and a fucking Ghoul. Fuck you mean, you're annoyed by his presence?

- Look - you're already turning away from him, shooting a look towards your kitchen, where he can see a leg twitch in a spasm on top of your table - I ain't got time for whatever this is - your hands wave around in Cooper's general direction. - You'll have to wait your turn.

- Ah, well, I'm not the patient kind.

A squeak of surprise leaves you, as the Ghoul pushes past your body, entering your house gun first, murder clear in his deep set eyes. His steps take him through your living room, dangerously close to your kitchen. You know exactly, what's going to happen, and your arms shoot out on instinct. His body is unnaturally warm, even through layers of clothing, as you wrap yourself around his waist, tugging him back with all your might.

He looks down on you, more bothered by the sudden contact, than the fact you're trying to stop him. It gives you a small leverage, and you push him back a couple of steps, settling yourself between the entrance to the kitchen, and the bounty hunter, raising your hands and getting ready to fight.

- I don't have time for this kinda bullshit. Git. - Cooper snarls at you, his gun-free hand coming up to grab at your hair.

Before you have time to react, five fingers twist hard into your roots, and you stifle a scream, as the Ghoul pushes you off of him. On instinct, your hands come up to tug against his wrist, nails digging into the leathery skin. He lets you go with a hiss, and you use that second, to throw yourself towards the end-table.

Your fingers find the handle with a practiced ease. Then, your body twists like a radioactive viper, and all Cooper sees is a flash of metal. The blade is rusty and chipped, but it could still do some damage. Especially now, that it's pressed against Cooper's jugular, the dull, cold presence halting all his movements. Your eyebrows raise in small recognition at the thin fabric tied around his neck. The scarf. Your mouth goes dry.

- Everything okay back there? - Benny asks from the kitchen, you can hear his approaching footsteps.

- All's well, kee pressure on the wound - your voice is tight with nerves, but the man obeys.

Cooper watches your face carefully, his gun tucked neatly into the meat of your stomach, ready to fire, should the situation escalate. You can feel it, pressed right into the hollow space under your spleen, a good place to be shot, if you could even say that. You're dealing with a professional, apparently.

- We seem to have a bit of a conundrum on our hands, little lady - Cooper drawls, voice bordering on a whisper, his eyes follow the way your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips.

- I have a patient, he needs help - you explain in an even tone, breathing shallow - After that, I'll deal with you.

Despite being at a loosing position, you refuse to back down, your eyes glued to the Ghoul in front of you. You're bracing yourself for the imminent pain, should he decide shooting you would be easier, but it never comes. Instead, the barrel of the gun presses further into your flesh, before lightly retracting. The cold metal is dragged up, across the expanse of your stomach. You bite the inside of your cheek, and surpress a shiver, when it travels between the swell of your breast, and settles into the dip of your collarbones.

You swallow thickly, Cooper's eyes catching the movements of your trachea like a hungry vulture. The tip of the gun touches the underside of your chin, pushing your head to one side, then the other, as if the bounty hunter is taking inventory in a butcher's shop. Once he's had his fill, he lifts the gun completely, raising his hands as a peace offering.

- Git - you whisper back at him, and a flash of something rushes through his mangled expression.

You take a step back, chest rising in falling rapidly, blade still in front of you, just in case. Then another step, and the bounty hunter dusts off his coat, before sitting down on a stool in your cluttered living room. You don't like the way he looks at you, eyes shining from under his hat, as he occupies your space like it belongs to him. Long legs apread in front of him, and you try very hard not to sneak a peak between them. Finally, you cross the entrance to the kitchen, and the knife is tucked under the leather belt of your pants.

A sigh, a roll of shoulders, and you're off.

Cooper watches with curiosity, as you immediately start to work on the poor bastard stuck on your table. Your back is taunt, hands bloodied but steady, as you lean down to take the metal bullet out of the wound. The herbal paste you've provided earlier has dried up, and is currently working wonders for the bleeding, while you reach inside with not-so-sterile pliers.

- Hold him down - he hears you say, as the legs on the table start to twitch again.

Finally, a metallic sound of the bullet hitting a dish is heard, and you stand up, making your way towards the cabinet filled with chems. There is a grace to your movements Cooper wasn't expecting. Reminds him of dancers, ballet ones.

Back in the day, his ex-wife would drag him to all those ballet shows, ones that made him feel stupid and uncultured. He swallows around the memory, willing it to die down, as you shoot him a cautious look over your shoulders.

He wiggles his gun at you lightly, a reminder, that all this is happening because of his good humor. You scoff.

Pete starts screaming as soon, as you begin to dress the wound properly. Chemical smell fills the air, and although Cooper lacks the nose to feel it, his eyes water all the same. You seem to be unbothered, years of doing this exact job must've hardened your senses. Finally, it's done. There's nothing more you can do for the man, and you wipe your hand on your forehead, leaving a large smear of red.

- He'll be fine - you mutter towards the other man in the kitchen - He needs rest, and a loads of it too.

A couple of small bottles and dried herbs land onto a checkered cloth, and you tie it closed, like a small care package.

- Dress his wounds twice a day - you press the package into the other man's hands while he helps his partner off the table - Good luck.

Cooper glares at the men, as they stagger out the front door. They don't seem to pay him any mind. Well, the shot one definitely doesn't, he can barely walk on his own. His friend is too preoccupied with keeping him on his arm, to even acknowledge that this whole situation was orchestrated by Cooper himself. Or perhaps, he's to stupid to connect the dots. It's hard to tell these days.

The door closes with a click, and Cooper stands up from his stool, sauntering over to the kitchen.

You're currently trying to wash blood off of your hands, which are stained crimson almost up to your elbows. It goes about as well as expected, and as you dry your arms with a rag, there's still a pinkish stain to your skin.

The table is a mess, blood and herbs seeping into the wooden planks which make up the surface. Cooper leans against the doorframe, as he watches you splash some chemicals onto the wood. It bubbles up in a disgusting mixture of red, green and yellow. You let it sizzle for a moment, before taking that same bowl of water you've been using to clean up, and dumping it all onto the table. The mixture flows down to the floor, the residing surface looking much cleaner.

- Now, as much as I'd love to sit around and play house with you, honey - Cooper starts, and has to clear his throat, when you look up at him wordlessly, blood on your face and fire in your eyes - I have a bounty to collect.

Sighing, you push your hair back from your forehead, exhaustion, which is synonymous with living in the Wastelands seeping off of you like a tidal wave.

- Do you have a name? - you ask, reaching for a leather bag sitting on one of the chairs.

- I do - he says, and you roll your eyes at the deliberate lack of information his answer has given you.

You mutter something that sounds scarily close to "asshole", and begin to chuck a couple of vials into the bag, then some herbs, then a water canteen. It's like you're ready to move out at any time, and a sneaking suspicion arises in Cooper's mind. This isn't the first time you're in this situation, if your calm demeanor is anything to go by. Suspicious, highly so, and as you turn around to face him, Cooper raises his hand ever so slightly.

Your eyes fall onto the bundle of rope in his grip, eyebrow raising in annoyance.

- You serious?

- As a funeral, sweetheart - he sways the bundle lighty, his other hand pointing the gun at your abdoment - Now, are you going to be good, and come over here? Or should I come over there and make it unpleasant for us both?

- You're already making it unpleasant - you mutter, but cross the kitchen towards him, raising your hands, palms up.

- Wait.

Confusion hits you, when the Ghoul reaches into his pocket, producing a small piece of torn cloth. Your entire body goes still, as he grabs onto your chin, cold metal of his gun digging into your cheek, the barrel settling into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. Then, despite your best efforts at freeing yourself from his grip, he brings the cloth to his lips, wetting the fabric with his tongue.

The bloody smear on your forehead is wiped down rather roughly, and you twist in place like an impatient toddler, when Cooper leans his head back, to look at his handywork. You shiver with disgust, at the feeling of his drying saliva on your skin, and as soon, as he lets you go, you begin to rub at your forehead with the sleeve of your robe.

- Good condition - he rasps, and if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.

He gives you a nasty smirk, settling his gun down for just a moment, and grabbing your wrists together, so he can tie them up. Which is all the time you need to make a decision, and kick out your knee, nailing him right in the crotch. He doubles over, cursing loudly, hands shooting out to grab you, but all he catches is your tattered robe, which you slide out of easily.

Fater than he would've anticipated, you grab at your bag, and bolt to the back of the kitchen, where he watches you jump over the table and all but slide out of the house through an open window. It's like a choreographed dance, the way you move out of his grasp. When he reaches the window himself, there's no sight of you, other than the rustling of tree branches somewhere in the woods behind your cabin.

- Fucking women. - Cooper whistles.

He can't deny the shiver of excitement running down his back, as he secures the hat over his eyes. If that's how you want to play, he would oblidge. It's been far too long since he could actually enjoy a more challenging bounty. Cooper slowly walks out of your cabin, looking over all the little trinkets you've gathered inside. Then, almost lazily, he lifts the robe you've left him to his nose. He feels nothing, of course, but he has quite a vivid imagination. Vivid enough to supply him with a memory of a scent from his past life. Lavender, he'd bet you smell like lavender.

Your tracks are deep and visible across the ground, and so, the hunt begins.

#my writing #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout smut #fallout x reader #fallout tv series #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #i walt on his goggins till we fallout

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moonlitdesertdreams · 9 months ago

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On the Surface

A/N: Nothing important, please enjoy and send me more ideas! Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader, Lucy MacLean WARNINGS: None Summary: Lucy knew traveling with the Ghoul would be tough, but no one told her it would be so... weird. Especially when he stops to pick up another companion along the way.

Word count: 1.2k+

(GIF credit to @talesfromthecrypts)

Lucy surely didn’t know what to expect when she trudged along after the Ghoul and Wilzig’s dog, charmed by its new companion.

She followed, weighed down by the revelations Moldaver had laid bare. It had pulled the curtain away from her entire life and ripped her heart to shreds. Between seeing her father flee and leaving Maximus, her mind was heavy with pain.

The Ghoul was absolute zero on the comfort scale. He walked silently, only breaking it to mutter hypothetical questions at the dog- so affectionately called Dogmeat- and cough dryly. Lucy decided they had to have been walking for hours through sparse woods and dry ground before a flickering light appeared on the horizon.

And after everything she’d been through, she fully expected another fight.

But the Ghoul seemed to gain some motivation at the sight, and moved along at a quicker pace than they had been. Lucy was able to make out the shape of a small campfire burning, less than ten feet away from a fairly large, but crudely-built cabin. It was tucked into a patch of dead trees, and had what she thought to be clothes hanging on clotheslines outside. Even the dog was excited, barking loudly and jogging up to the cabin.

Lucy stopped a few yards away, apprehension freezing her limbs into place. The Ghoul continued on, hopping lithely onto the front porch and knocking at the door. Again, she expected the occupant to come out, guns blazing, and be killed by the man at her door.

Maybe he’d even make Lucy carve pieces of them off to make jerky again.

What she didn’t expect was the door to open, and the Ghoul to crack a smile she’d never seen. A figure- a woman- stepped out onto the porch. Lucy watched them exchange a few words before the woman leaned in towards the Ghoul and…. hugged him?

What the fuck even was this place?

The Ghoul, always cold and callous with Lucy, chuckled out loud. “Miss me, sugar?”

When she pulls away, the woman is beaming. “Every day.”

Lucy probably looks like a whole fool, jaw gaping and brow furrowed in confusion. She stares at the woman, who eventually turns an eye to her.

“What’s this? Gettin’ some on the side, Cowboy?” The still unnamed woman trots off the porch towards the Vault-Dweller.

Upon closer inspection, the woman doesn’t appear as angry as her statement. She’s got long hair wrapped into a complicated braided style to keep it up and out of her face. There’s a smattering of freckles over her sunburnt nose, and a jagged scar running the length of her right cheek. The gnarled tissue pulls her mouth into a scowl, but she’s otherwise well-kept. She’s probably three or four inches shorter than Lucy, but no less intimidating.

“Calm down, woman.” The Ghoul bites. “This is Lucy MacLean.”

The woman pauses, looking back to him for confirmation before staring back at Lucy. “MacLean, eh? I can see it.”

Spurs clank as the Ghoul takes those slow, scary steps towards the woman. “Thought you might be interested in comin’ along. We’re followin’ her dad. Hank.”

A smile twists the lady’s lips, fighting against the wretched scar on her face. “Come on in. We can leave in the morning.”

And that’s how Lucy finds herself in the rickety cabin. The woman- who still hadn’t offered up a name, much like her Ghoul friend- had led her to a room and tossed a scratchy blanket and pillow in behind her. Despite her gruff exterior, she had told Lucy there was a pantry in the kitchen full of non-perishables, and cans of purified water hidden in the back. And though water sounded beautiful, Lucy was more stoked about the water purifier connected to the house. She was told there was cold but clean water in a makeshift wash room to clean up.

So Lucy took her time to freshen up in the first relatively put-together place she’d been since coming up from the Vault. The little cabin did have lights, thanks to a generator that hummed along outside. She was able to scrub the grime from her face and hands, and attempted to do the same with her Vault-suit. There was an old Nuka-cola bottle on the floor in the washroom with ‘SOAP’ scratched across it in cursive. It lathered like any other that Lucy remembered, and she felt like a new person walking out of the wash room and back into her own little space.

Unsurprisingly, her empty stomach reared its head in protest, and she decided she’d make one last trip to the pantry before bed. There were no voices outside of her room, just the humming of an old Television setup she’d seen on her way in. Lucy tiptoes back to the junction of the living area and pantry, but stops dead in her tracks. The lights are all off, and it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust.

The living area right inside the door, the one she’d passed by on her way in, was occupied by both the Ghoul and his mysterious friend. However, instead of the simple sofa she’d observed prior, it was now pulled out into a bed.

A bed in which the woman and the Ghoul were curled up, completely unconscious.

Lucy almost feels bad intruding on the situation, but she’s more bewildered that anyone could show such affection towards the irradiated man she’d come to hate over the past few days. And they’re not even just sharing the bed, they’re tangled together and… cuddling? The Ghoul is on his back, head propped on a pillow and hat still on his head but tipped down low to hide his disfigured face. The long coat he’d worn day in and day out is hanging over the armrest beside his bandolier, guns easily accessible. And the woman, looking relaxed as ever, is curled up on her side with her head on his chest. The Ghoul has one arm curled around her shoulder, the other loosely gripping his inhaler device as he sleeps.

Lucy collects her jaw off the floor and scoots along to the pantry, snagging a couple ration bars and a can of water before heading back. She tries not to look again as she goes back to her room, but the temptation is too great. She pauses, turning back only to hear the click of a gun being cocked.

In the darkness, she can only see the whites of the Ghoul’s eyes and a flash of teeth. “Move along, Vaultie.”

Lucy obeys, and practically dashes back to her room.

So when they move out in the morning, Lucy pretends not to notice anything. When the pair stops their trek and leans in close to murmur directions at each other, Lucy taps away at her Pip-Boy.

There’s even a time where she returns from gathering water to find them locked in a kiss, coats swaying in the Wasteland wind. And Lucy had immediately backed up, lingering in the treeline until they broke apart.

The displays of affections continue with the travels, and it wasn’t odd to wake up to the sight of the woman curled beneath her Ghoul’s arm, content as ever. Days pass, and Lucy doesn’t mention it. It’s kind of cute, she comes to think. She didn’t dare mention anything in fear of the Ghoul’s wrath.

So their odd trio trots along through the desert, letting Dogmeat take the lead.

And Lucy? Well, she's learning to be blissfully ignorant towards the abnormalities on the surface.

----

thanks for reading, much love ❤️

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

#fallout imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x f!reader #The Ghoul x Reader #the Ghoul x you #cooper howard x oc #fallout tv series #lucy maclean #walton goggins #fallout fiends #possessive!cooper howard #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #ghouls deserve love too #the ghoul

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stoat-party · 2 months ago

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Reminder that Nuka Break and Death Shroud are getting new installments sometime soon! If you haven’t watched them, or still need to rewatch them, now is the time.

Nuka Break is a short fanfilm, TV series (about the length and pacing of a movie), and spin-off film set shortly before Fallout: New Vegas. It’s a lot of fun, with a memorable cast and even a few canon characters. It fits really well within the source material while still expanding the lore. The plot is about a vault dweller, escaped slave, and ghoul traveling together while being pursued by everyone in the whole wasteland. At some point it was basically required viewing for the New Vegas fandom, but it seems like it’s fallen out of our collective consciousness. But NOT ON MY WATCH.

Short film: https://youtu.be/Q9UwlAAnlmg?si=Bzhutr-5tSy-j9AO

Season one: https://youtu.be/GcgxXnEVVyM?si=hw0plKWYCVUFI99g

Season two: https://youtu.be/5iOGniJECvw?si=p6iV6bmcnaAn4tND

Fallout: Red Star: https://youtu.be/HPs5nQ5d584?si=bMiX3Whi1hljn1pp

Death Shroud is a radio play written for Alzheimer’s research, with live performances by the actual Fallout 4 voice actors (especially Nick, Nora, Hancock, and Danse). It’s so much fun it’s ridiculous. The plot is… well, all I can say without spoiling too much is that Nick Valentine is investigating a mystery. For three hours you can’t possibly guess what’s coming at you next. It’s criminally underrated.

Death Shroud: https://youtu.be/DJR2YE14-EY?si=W7tgd3B9bgjnHUDp

(If you want to hype any other fan projects in the reblogs, feel absolutely free — The Final Pam, Fallout: Lanius, The Storyteller, etc.)

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout new vegas #new vegas #fnv #death shroud #nuka break #paladin danse #Hancock fallout 4 #nick valentine #hancock fo4 #sorry for tagging blorbos but their fans must know about this #never actually saw the storyteller but I know it’s very highly regarded

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bonafideyapper · 9 months ago

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DAY OFF - maximus (fallout tv) x female!reader (smut)

Warnings: SMUT MDNI!!! 18+ // virgin maximus, you work for free because he’s just so sweet, no use of “y/n” but “your name” is typed out, subby (switch) Maximus, he’s embarrassed, I love it; reader is described as female, chubby, and southern/from the east coast, premature ejaculation (but the stamina is there fr he’s back up and ready in like 30 seconds flat); oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it ‘fo you tap it, reader), creampie, I probably forgot some but tbh I didn’t expect to get as raunchy as I did (not proofread)

(this is written to be a one-shot but if there’s enough interest in a second part i’ll work something up :))

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

Maximus was pretty pissed off and worn down by the time he came across a settlement along the way to tracking down the head, or the armor, he really didn’t know what his purpose in life was at the moment. He was just tired and needed some water, maybe a snack. He kept thinking back to that vault dweller he met in Filly, her pretty big eyes and that cute little smile. He’d never see her again, but hey, at least he could have the memory.

He stumbled into the first crudely established business he could find that might serve him, taking a seat at the bar and trying to get the bartender’s attention. Clearly had not taken in the scenery of the bar he was in. Beautiful women stood around, each one with various male patrons. Unable to properly get the man’s attention; Maximus huffed and let his shoulders slump in near-defeat. After meeting the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and then getting his ass kicked and losing the fucking armor, he had little energy left to give.

You noticed this from your position at the end of the bar, slowly inching your way down as he took his place at the bar. The man had barely looked up when he burst through the door, clearly not noticing he had stumbled into the only brothel for miles around. Well respectable women making money to support themselves, helping weary travelers and the occasional rough raider to get some peace and release for the night. Today was your day off, but you always loved a little challenge.

“Emmett! Would you be a dear and get me two waters?” You leaned over the bar and flashed the old man a big smile, he had always had a soft spot for you since you’d always slip him a big tip from whatever you made upstairs. Emmett filled up two glasses of water and slid them across to land in front of you, “On the house, beautiful.”

You turned to get a good look at the man, fighting back a laugh as he stared at the glass of cold water in your hand, almost resembling a panting dog. “Here, honey; this is for you.” He muttered out a ‘thanks’ as he took the glass and took it down in three gulps, setting it back down on the counter between them.

Maximus was smitten the moment he laid eyes on you, his literal saving grace. He finally took in his surroundings and cleared his throat, trying to put on that macho attitude of a knight, but really just an awkward little guy (with and) without that armor. “Thank you, um, I didn’t seem to catch your name?” He tried not to notice the obvious – that you were a whore, and he was a lying squire. He figured you two were one in the same, he was the lowest rung of the Brotherhood’s hierarchy, and you were, well, a prostitute. Max didn’t really care though; he had never seen someone as captivating as you, especially not in the wasteland.

You told him your name, and Maximus swore he had never heard anything so beautiful before. He watched you take small sips from the glass in front of you as you spoke with him for the next few minutes, realizing he had yet to offer you his name. To lie or not to lie, that is the question.

“M-Maximus. That’s my name.” He told you, offering up a piece of knowledge about himself. Hey, he figured he’d never be back in this part of the wasteland, telling you his real name wouldn’t hurt nobody. “I uh, I don’t have any caps, so if you’re looking for a customer…” He trailed off, thinking you were only there for one thing.

“Well, lucky for you, today’s my day off.” You flashed him an award-winning smile, one that would’ve been plastered on billboards in the old world.

The two of you talked for awhile, neither of you too worried about the environment around you. You filled in most of the silence with some stories about your past. He found out you were close to his age, had come to the western wasteland from what used to be the Carolinas, and were working in the saloon until you could find someone to take you back to Appalachia. You both sat there until closing time, Emmett giving you signal with a jerk of his head towards the stairs leading up to your room with an eyebrow up as if asking, “Charity work on your day off?”

“Hey Maxie, you wanna go get some sleep? Only five caps for a nice place to rest.” You squeezed his arm gently, leaning towards him, “No business, just as friends.” Maximus had never had a nickname before, other than the verbal insults spat at him by his fellow brothers. After spending quite some time with you, he decided that he liked the nickname, and would not let the abuse of the Brotherhood affect his brief time with you. He found himself nodding without thinking over your offer, blindly following you once you moved your dainty little hand to grab onto his larger one. Once he was behind you, he took notice of the way your dress moved as you walked, swaying slightly with each step. He tried to remain honorable and not stare at your ass as you went up the stairs, believing you were telling the truth when you claimed that no ‘business’ would happen.

Boy had he been wrong.

Once you had him safely in the confines of your room, your lips were on him like flies to honey. He desperately kissed you, his hands coming up to hold your cheeks like you’d float away if he didn’t anchor your body to his. Or, maybe he felt like he’d float away if he didn’t hold onto you.

“No, no no no no! This can’t be happening.” Maximus broke away from your lips suddenly, trying to push you from his lap at the feeling of his growing erection.

“Hey hey, calm down.” You frowned and grabbed onto his hands, distracting him by putting them firmly on your thighs and looking up into his frantic eyes, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I think my cock is about to explode.” Maximus panicked and frowned when you just laughed in his face, not taking his worries about the brainwashed BoS sex ed seriously. Your hands floated up to rest on the side of his neck, your thumb ghosting over the scar running along his chin.

“Oh, bless your heart. Maxie, that’s what‘s supposed to happen. Do you trust me to make that feel good for you?” The way you cooed to him in a condescending way in that sweet southern accent made him whimper. His head nodded on instinct, going into this with blind trust for you since hey, you were a professional. With him finally voicing the consent on the matter, you flashed him a big smile and resumed making out with him. Your hands drifted down between your two bodies, palming him gently through the front of his pants and eliciting sweet whimpers from the virgin.

His hands were clumsy as they explored your body, but you didn’t really mind. He finally discovered the places his hands felt like home, one landing on the soft, plump flesh of your hip as the other found its place on your lower back. He pulled your body closer, seeming to gain more courage as the night progressed. Something about a safe bed and a good-looking woman in his lap just did it for him, y’know?

Max shifted you both down so he could lay his upper body back against your pillows, just trying to get comfortable and not think about the way his cock felt–you made it very hard (pun intended) to think about anything else. You broke your lips away from his and let out a melodic giggle as he chased your lips. You needed him out of that white t-shirt that oh-so-deliciously clung to his biceps, so naturally your hands reached to pull it over his head.

You really were the best at what you did, and you knew it, Maximus could tell. You expertly removed his belt and pants without him even noticing, only detaching your lips from his because you had started to leave a trail moving down, down, down…

Fuck, he’s beautiful, you thought to yourself. Taking time to press open-mouthed kisses along any scars that may have been on his abdomen, you glanced up to see his eyes locked on you. Half-lidded brown eyes stared down at you, his breath catching in his throat as you finally reached your destination. You carefully opened his pants and tapped his hip gently, asking him to lift up to make this a little easier for you. As he obeyed, you pulled his pants down in one swift motion, smirking when you saw his cock. Perfectly shaped, thick and girthy, just how you liked it, and rock-hard as it sprung up out of the confines of his briefs.

“Still trust me?” You whispered to him before you put your hands on him again, basically salivating over the thought. Maximus didn’t even need to hear the rest of your question, nodding frantically after you uttered the first syllable. Taking his cock in your hand, you easily began working him, keeping your eyes on him. You loved the look on a virgin’s face when you touched them for the first time, and Max was no different. His eyes had closed, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Absolutely fucking beautiful, in your professional opinion.

His hands found their way to your hair as you licked a drop of precum from the tip of his cock, humming softly in delight at the salty substance before immediately getting to work. You wrapped your lips around him and gathered enough saliva to really make it enjoyable for him, not even having time to really get sloppy with it when the pretty boy had busted in your mouth with a profuse apology. Greedy, you pulled your mouth off of him and swallowed down the load. You thought it was cute how apologetic he was at how quick it had happened, so you wiped your mouth and leaned up to kiss him again. “Don’t apologize, I’m not done.”

Max didn’t know what else to expect, already astonished that it had gone on this long and his cock was still attached to his body. With his cock standing staunch and almost painfully erect again, Maximus let out a pitiful whine when you lifted your dress over your head. You guided his hands to your hips again, starting to work a rhythm against him with your hips.

“You okay if I ride you, honey?” You asked him, peppering kisses across his jaw and down his neck. Maximus nodded quickly and dug his fingertips into your pudgy hips, moving you in his lap the way that he wanted. He thinks he’s starting to get the hang of this sex thing, until you lift yourself up and he feels the warmest, softest grip he’s ever felt before. He thought your mouth was the best thing he had ever felt, until he felt the way your pussy gripped his cock alll the way down until he was buried inside you.

“Shit, Maxie, you might be the biggest I’ve ever taken.” You mewled, leaning over his body in a way that perfectly positioned your breasts above his face. You put your weight on your hands on either side of his head, propping yourself up to start moving your hips. Grinding into him for a moment to really feel how deep he was before lifting yourself up and dropping yourself back down to test the waters with your new toy.

Meanwhile Maximus couldn’t focus, at this moment he had completely abandoned his faith in the Brotherhood, creating a new religion in your body. Maybe he was just delusional over getting laid but he would worship the ground you walked on after this. His mouth found one of your nipples and latched onto it almost instinctively (don’t mommy kink shame me), rolling his tongue over the sensitive bud before pulling back to give the other some well deserved attention.

You finally fell into a good rhythm, leaning back on him and grabbing onto his legs behind you for support as Maximus figured out that if he thrust his hips up just right, you’d let out a new sound. At some point you realized he had taken over, his hands digging roughly into your hips and thighs as he fucked up into you.

Maximus grinned when he realized that not only did this feel great, it looked like you were actually enjoying it too. He was a quick learner, figuring out which ways to move his hips that would elicit the sweeeetest noises from your throat. He decided to get cocky with it and put those squire muscles to good use, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you in place against his body as he pistons his hips quicker. Admittedly becoming more sloppy, but he soon realized that it was because you had come completely undone in his arms.

Your eyes had rolled back as soon as he help you in place, nothing but the sound of his balls slapping against your ass and your moans that were getting higher and higher in pitch. “Max- fuck- Maximus—“ you tried to warn him that you were going to cum, burying your face in his shoulder and white-knuckling the blanket as you exploded instead, a gush of what Maximus thought was piss (he would later learn that no, you didn’t just urinate on him) coating the two of their abdomens. Never deterred him though, because soon after Max had let the explosion feeling take himself over, pumping his heavy load into you. You swore you could feel it literally hit your cervix and hoped you weren’t ovulating.

Maximus kept his arms tightly around you as you laid on top of him for a moment, moving only slightly in a way that would allow his cock to slip from your velvety walls. Leaving you with the ejaculate mix dripping down your thighs. His fingers traced up your spine gently before his dropped his arm to the side, letting you get up if you so pleased.

You did, but only after hovering your face over his to brush your lips against his in an almost-tender kiss. Your legs were shakier than you’d like to admit as you crawled off of him, cleaning yourself up a bit before wrapping yourself in your nice robe. Maximus sat up a bit on his elbows to watch you float around the room, smiling up at you when you came back to him with a wet rag to clean him off.

“Get some sleep, Maxie.” You pressed your lips to the skin just above his bellybutton, then one against his sternum, finally one more pressed to his lips that lingered as long as he allowed it to. To you, aftercare was important to both parties, and since you were the more experienced, you’d have to teach him a thing or two about that. “You’re safe here with me, I promise.”

Maximus watched you slowly make your way up his body, wrapping his arm back around you to pull you closer to deepen your kisses. Both of you had just exploded and yet he could still probably go again, but the exhaustion of his journey had finally hit him, and he knew he had a lot of ground to cover in the morning. He nestled his head against your bosom and closed his eyes, not used to any sort of cuddling but definitely just wanting to feel your softness as long as he could before everything got hard again.

You had a fond smile on your face as you looked down at the man in your bed, it wasn’t often that you took a serious liking to any of the men that strolled through the saloon doors, but something about the “I can fix him”-ness of the false knight under your covers was intriguing. You wrapped your arm around him and gently traced your finger over some raised skin between his shoulders, too tired to make out what the shape was.

You had woken up before him the next morning and had already gotten dressed and ready before deciding to wake him, a plate of biscuits and a cup of badly-made coffee on her side table. Maybe, you hoped, if you made his time really worth it he’d come back to see you again. Maybe as a customer, but you wouldn’t charge him any caps for your services. He’d be your exception, something about a friends discount.

Maximus opened his eyes slowly when he felt a small hand massaging his back, turning his head to look towards your figure sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Mornin’, honey. You gotta get goin’, I got business to attend to.” You watched as he rolled onto his back and looked up at you fully. Max cracked a smile as he reached over to grab your face, pulling you down but leaning up to meet you halfway and capture your lips in a kiss.

“I’m going to come back for you, I promise.” He whispered against your lips, thinking back to your conversation the night before about working there until you found a companion to guide you across the vast wasteland. He’d find the knight’s armor and return to prove himself worthy of being a knight by rescuing the fair maiden.

“I’ll hold you to that, Maxie.” You pulled away from him and gestured to the clothes on the edge of the bed, “Get dressed, there’s a fire escape out my window. My boss will be so mad if she sees you leavin’ this late in the morning.” Maximus redressed himself pretty quick and peeled his head out the window to see the makeshift ladder hanging down the side of the building. He turned back to try and steal one more kiss, but you had already fled the room.

a/n: ok so I wrote this at work & when I got off work I was exhausted but I neeeeeded to finish it so this went way off the rails, wasn’t expecting myself to do all that, but hope you enjoyed!

taglist: @judgementdays-girl (you requested a max fic after i had already started so here's this :))

gif by @mancandykings

dividers by @cafekitsune

#maximus fallout x reader #maximus fallout x you #maximus fallout imagine #fallout tv imagine #squire maximus #ren writes #fallout tv series #maximus x reader #maximus x you #maximus fallout x oc #maximus fallout

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nuclear-w1nter · 1 year ago

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I think the vault dwellers of vault 101 should have been more fearful of the lone wanderer, especially upon their return to the vault. Particularly Butch. Like, here's this kid Butch has bullied and pushed around for the grand majority of both of their lives, said bullied child grows up and leaves the vault in a violent spray, only to come back later, and definitely, definitely not be the same person as when they exited. Butch is arrogant and cocky, he would never admit fear, but I do think it bothers him to see lone in this way, because it is scary. They are *not* the same person, the wasteland has changed them.

#fallout #fallout 3 #fo3 #idk #butch deloria #i think about lone being unsettling to butch a LOT #heres this kid you grew up with #fooled around with and acted like a jackass with #and now here they are again #but changed. possibly for the worse. a haunted kind of look in their face

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notimminent · 9 months ago

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she knew she shouldn't be teasing him as much as she did, especially with the wedding coming up. it was always a HUGE DEAL when people from other vaults come over, especially this time as his own sister was getting married to one of the people from vault 32. what kind of people were in 32? 31 was always trustworthy and born leaders, and she knows how people in 33 are but the middle vault was a mystery to her. " children are children, and i was always told that when we were younger i was always rambunctious. betty once told me i acted a lot like my father, but i think she might have been trying to have us connect more. " things had been tough since her mother got sick and passed when emma was younger. she was a bit of a handful and her father would chastise her before realizing and apologizing. back then, she didn't understand how the two of them could be related due to how truly different they were. but, betty and steph both told her she was so much like him and to cut him slack. " door holding might be a sacred covenant there but what if the door was part of the plan? like... like, what if the door being opened triggered something and it pulled a string that would fling water at the door, soaking whoever went through? would they get in trouble for not opening the door or for the water trick? "

it's almost laughable how truly opposites the two of them are. norm, the calm and collected one, and emma the impulsive type that rather asks for forgiveness rather than permission. it isn't her fault, though, people always told her she was a lot as a child. when she tried being more like norm, she was looked over as if she wasn't there. she'd rather be in the eye of the overseer and apologizing instead of being invisible in a room of familiar faces. with how little people talked of her mother, she was scared that if she didn't make an impression and impact, she would be forgotten. not talked about unless to be used for a story.

" the worst influence. absolutely atrocious. the prodigal son of bad influence. " well, she wasn't wrong in her playful taunts. he was prodigal and always in the eyes of the others, being the overseers son, he would never be forgotten. he didn't need to work for it, nor does it seem that he wanted the attention. maybe that's why he was named NORM becaused he'd rather be something instead of a nor or nothing. " to insinuate that i should sabotage the wedding of your sister? i respect and fear her too much to try that. if she ever looked at me with disappointment i think i might turn to vapor in that moment. besides, she might be there if i ever get chosen to marry. if i did something for hers, what would she do for mine and yours? "

after the words left her mouth, she realized how it sounded. as if she and him would get married. sure, she would joke about it when they were children, usually because she was following him around like a shadow and egging him on to cause mischief with her. that they would be partners in crime so why not in life? it was always silly and she knew it meant nothing but... maybe it had to do with the fact they were so similar in age so they grew up around one another but emma couldn't help but daydream about a relationship with him--or with chet. he had a nice jaw. pretty to look at. but she was always told to look at lucy for how she should act if she ever hoped to be considered as a candidate. jeepers, why is she thinking about this? focus.

" how are you feeling, with your sister being almost married? what do you think her beau will be like? "

they both knew he had. many times. there's a reason he's at the bottom of the food chain despite being the son of an overseer. he's smart, sure. but not motivated unless there is something worth doing. his father didn't tend to break the rules except when punishing his own children. norm is sure he should have had way more sanctions than he has in his life. "you think thirty-one has that kind of thing? they pride themselves as better than us. smarter. probably have zero crime over there besides who didn't hold the door for each other." not that he knew. thirty-one a carefully guarded secret even by those who had lived there.

it's a silly thing to worry about. a book being stolen could only be inside the vault. the doors never opening without prior authorisation and only between the interconnected vaults. she wouldn't have been able to hide it for long if it ever was an issue. "are you implying i'm a bad influence?" norm isn't insulted by it. more surprised. no one really notices him when lucy or his dad are around. "well, i heard they're making a huge cake for the upcoming wedding. could do something with that."

#feel free to have norm not reciprocate her feelings i realize this is the second reply and i'm talking about feelings #that's kinda just how emma is especially her with people who are friendly towards her #also sorry for the length of the reply i just got back on my laptop and wrote a novel apparently #post ;; para #c: icon;;#v: vault dweller;;#pipboygenius #text ;; pipboygenius

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atombombkaytee · 9 months ago

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I’ve watched the entire series again today in a hungover state and I CAN’T DEAL with all the parallels.

I mean, when Lucy finds out about her Dad’s true actions and origins - her whole world falls apart. She saw the vaults as safety - she looked up to her Dad more than anyone else in the world. She learns that he’s lied about who he is as a man and as her father, but also she must realise that the vault’s are hiding their own dirty secrets (especially after her experience at vault 4) and that her Dad is a part of that too. She even says to Max, after leaving vault 4, that if she destroyed a whole community to save him, he would be heartbroken: when that’s exactly what he did on an even grander and more terrible scale. Lucy’s life wasn’t even in direct danger to warrant that reaction - he’s just an insecure selfish arsehole.

At the very same time we see the flashback scene of Coop hearing Barb suggest that they drop the bombs on America. This woman that he loves and trusts and has made a family with - who he said he fell in love with because she always tries to do the right thing. Their reactions at the point of realisation - shock, inability to speak, almost dissociation - are both extremely similar. Him having gone through that betrayal before (and likely plenty of times since) is EXACTLY why he talks to Lucy how he does. He’s preparing her for the eventual heartbreak - because he has experience which states that nothing could ever be as perfect as she claims her life is. When he’s making ass jerky from Roger, he even tells her: there’s what people say they do and then there’s what they really do.

When you look at all of that, really, in the scheme of things, Coop - the man that she’s seen as this inhuman, cruel, murderous monster - he’s the good guy. He too thought his wife’s business with vault tec was abhorrent. Yes, he’s been warped and twisted by the wasteland and by his own trauma - but he does see this brightness in Lucy. He thought she was just naive and full of bullshit (especially being a vault dweller. Something which I’m sure triggered him considering his past with vault tec and the links to his wife) but when she proved herself by giving him the vials instead of letting him die, he’s probably amazed that there’s someone left in the world who isn’t just a liar and a terrible person. He’s so used to betrayal and violence by this point. She’s a good person - a trait that he literally said he was in love with his wife because of. She softens him.

But she also proves herself in another way - by shooting her feralled mother - showing that she’s also grown and learnt that not everything is black and white. It’s not just “good and bad” in this world. And although Coop has questionable morals, he’s honest, like her. He tells it how it is. Plus, after her Dad’s huge life changing betrayal and her time in the wasteland, she understands a little more why Coop has done all the things that she’s seen him do - I mean he did meet her pretty much day one out of the vault initially - hence why she goes with him. He has hardened her up to protect her in the wasteland.

Wilzig even says “will you still want the same things when you’re a different animal altogether.”

My god. It’s just genius. Absolutely genius.

“You comin’?”

Edit: Can we also talk about how Coop is basically the inspiration for the vault boy - who Lucy basically looks to (physically a few times throughout the series) for inspiration to do the right thing. AND the fact that her Dad was obviously a bit obsessed with Coop and probably still was when Lucy was born, seeing as he’d been in a pod and had only just woken up, retaining recent memories. So Lucy likely watched all of his films and her Dad maybe even saw him as a bit of a role model (or at least his in-film characters). AND the obvious exchange of index fingers. Yup. Honestly if this relationship doesn’t become cannon, I will start dropping bombs too.

ANOTHER EDIT: Sorry one last thing but, I just want to add: nothing that post-war Coop does is personal. It’s either: to get a job done, survival, because he’s been triggered by something (understandable after what’s he been through) or, in Lucy’s case, to teach a (admittedly often harsh) lesson. He doesn’t just mindlessly kill - or particularly enjoy killing - he just has no issue with it, it’s all just means to an end. He even still remembers to pay for his tomatoes in Filly ffs haha… I imagine he’s extremely numb and devoid of all feeling - except for when it comes to his wife and little girl. That’s the only time we see more visceral reactions in either actions or dialogue from him. He’s such an intricate character and Walton did an amazing job of portraying him.

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 8 months ago

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Thank you for your service to the ghoul fucker community 🫡🤠

You mentioned that you have more headcanons for the Ghoul, can you share them with us? NSFW or SFW it is up to you

SFW Cooper Howard/The Ghoul Headcanons 2

(Follow-up to the SFW Prewar!Coop headcanons I posted here.)

I've said this before, but I firmly believe that this man doesn't sleep. Based on what we've seen about ghouls over the course of the franchise, I think that food, water, and sleep are basically optional; something that helps them feel and run better, but not things they can't survive without. With sleep comes vulnerability, both physical vulnerability and the vulnerability of being subjected to dreams. Cooper doesn't want to dream. His unconscious brain isn't nearly as good at shoving all the unpleasant things he doesn't want to think about down as his conscious brain is. The only true "sleep" he gets is when he's been knocked unconscious, whether that be by some enemy of the Wasteland or by one too many substances. He still will typically pick a spot to stop for 5-6 hours a night, put his feet up, get a little extra intoxicated. Sometimes he rests his eyes and feigns sleep when things feel especially calm.

He is a YAPPER! I've seen so many people theorize that for season 2 Lucy is gonna talk The Ghoul's ear off on their walk to New Vegas...I respectfully disagree. Have you ever met an old man? They never shut the fuck up at the best of times and this one has been without real companionship for so long; now that he's got an audience, he's never without something to say. I mean, the man was fancy waterboarding Lucy and standing there monologuing about some shit he read in the newspaper 200 years ago because he's lonely.

This man will absolutley start falling in love with you if you get ANY of his jokes or weird little references he makes to shit that hasn't existed in forever. Even if that's the first time he has positive feelings towards you, he's officially on that path. It would be a moment of genuine human connection, the kind he hasn't felt in so long. Even if it's innocuous, the poor thing is immediately gonna be a little obsessed with you.

Have fun if he DOES start falling in love with you, because initially it'll make him even more unpleasant than he usually is. He's confused at first, then he's annoyed by it when he realizes what he's feeling. He's gone this long without having to deal with that on top of everything else. Both emotions come with a hearty side of frustration and anger, as well as a general defensiveness you won't be able to wrap your brain around until his (reciprocated) feelings eventually come to light.

Marriage doesn't really exist in the same form he knew before, but if he was serious about you, he'd still wanna marry you. Depending on where you come from, whether you're a vault dweller or not, you might not even fully understand what he's asking when he proposes (which he would definitely still scrounge up a ring for, by the way; it wouldn't feel right to him if he didn't give you one). He takes it just as seriously as he took it the first time, and he's determined to be the husband he knows he's capable of being to you.

Not a headcanon so much as a musing, I suppose, but hear me out: what if the duster he wears is from the first person he ever cannibalized (or something similar)? Much to wonder about.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard headcanons #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #ghoulcy #vaultghoul #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

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the-faceless-bride · 9 months ago

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No. Not again. Not you.

Yandere Cooper Howard/The Ghoul × Vaultie!R

Summary: The Ghoul of the wasteland had exepted the man he once was is dead. He isn't caring. Isn't loving. Isn't feeling. Friendship, companionship, partnership... love? Wasn't for him. Not anymore. But all that comes crashing down when he meets you... you brought something back from the dead.. though it isn't as 'good' as it used to be...

Warnings: yandere content, Cooper being controlling, Canon violence, death (not reader or Cooper), violence towards reader (by both strangers and a litte Cooper), flashbacks, and forced kissing.

You stumble around behind Cooper talking about the town you were about to come up apon, you were happy to babble away to him, and though he wouldn't always answer, he would always listen.

You liked traveling around, especially with Cooper; you were in a vault all your life, not by choice. But to be out of it was an amazing feeling, even if in the start Cooper didn't take your optimistic outlooks to kindly.

You remember how dumb he thought you were...

You'd just escaped your vault. And you were so confused...

You remember 'yesterday' you were baking a pie waiting for your husband to come home, when you heard a big bang, your husband rushed in took you. And you just passed out... you had always told him you didn't trust vault-tech or the people who were a part of it. But he didn't care, he was desperate.

When you woke up, the Vault was empty... quiet... bloodied... you stumbled around, trying to find something, someone... anyone... when you heard a whistle,

"Pphheeeww- looks like I've got a live one," a voice called out; turning around meeting the face of the goul... it shocked you at first your face contorting, but it wasn't so much fear as it was confusion... who is that? Had the war started? How long has it been? "If I were you I'd hope my pretty ass back into that ice block and let the world rot away,"

God, you remember him putting you through hell and back; no water or food, hot unforgiving sun, the fighting, crying, begging, and eventual acceptance.

"You think the people here will be friendly?" You babble as you reach for the canteen on his side; he let's you take it, moving his coat to the side for an easier reach. "Friendly?-" he laughs like you've told him the funniest joke he'd ever heard, "when is anyone out here friendly? What did it teach you? You need a reminder?" He smirks, turning to look at you, "Oh no thanks!" You yipp as you take a swig of water.

You and Cooper walk into the town, eyes all around you. Some curious, some cautious, other dangerous... most eyes not on you, but Cooper. The Ghoul. Most people would never know you were a Vault dweller, you'd exchanged the blue and yellow suit in for a teal top and brown loose pants and some boots, Cooper made sure to tell you that if you kept that look somebody would've tried to sell you. You got lucky to be with him.

You didn't want to run off, You'd learned your lesson before; but you were hungry, and you saw what looks to be a place for food and bar. But you didn't want to just run off, especially if it could be dangerous... you wouldn't want Cooper to get in a brawl again.

"What do you think Cooper?" You whisper to him, only for him to hear, you whisper his name.

You liked saying his name. You didn't say it often, but when you did, it always felt good; even if it was a little strange. You still remember the first time he'd told you his name.

You'd woken up to russeling sounds when you spotted the small group trying to steal your supplies. And you yelled "Ghoul!"

You yelled as loud as you could, and He woke up, the Group of four masked raiders all attacked. And you sat there like a complete idiot while he took on all four men while little to no effort.

And even if you hadn't actually fought, you'd felt like you were on the edge of a panic attack, what if something happens to him? You'd be alone. What would happen to you? Would you be killed? Sold? Forced to-

*BANG*

The last gunshot that rang out, the last body falling ti the floor before he walks over and kneels down to your stance where you sat on the ground. "I'm- I'm sorry Ghoul, I just- I saw them I panicked it was like I couldn't even move- I'm sorry Ghoul, I just-" -- "Cooper." -- "what?" -- "My name. It's Cooper."

"Cooper." You smiled.

He didn't smile back, but you could see his eyes change. He didn't look so angry when he looked at you.

He nodded his head and handing a handfull of caps to you, a silent 'okay' for you to break away from him. At least for a little while.

You'd sat in a stool up at the bar eating the first hot meal in God knows how long, and sipping on a sweet drink that was a bit too strong for you, "what's a cutie like you doing here alone?" You heard a man call to you. He wasn't much, scruffy, scrawny, but had very pretty eyes.

"I'm not alone,'you say confidently with a sweet smile, one you're sure he's never seen before.

He takes the stool next to you and tries to have a conversation with you. But quickly gets irritated when you don't play along. And that's when he became ugly...

Yelling, cursing, name calling, everything under the sun wa seeing tossed at you because you told this strange man, "No." You hadn't taken his as anything serious, all bark no bite. Throwing a hissy fit because you wouldn't let him fuck you for a few caps.

And it wasn't until you felt a sting on your left cheek and your head snapped to the side when you realized. He had struck you. Before he grabbed you, pulling you to him, kissing and grabbing at you. The other bar goers had found this... funny. At least until a loud bang was heard and the mans brains splattered all over your face and bar.

"Now who the hell do you think you are to mess with another man's woman?"

"Cooper?"

A rope found its way tosses around you as Cooper shoved you down and into a corner, "don't fucking move."

You were on the road again, Cooper muttering curses under his breath. Still at the man who'd dared lay a hand on your sweet skin, damning him and all his friends who laughed.

No matter how hard you tried you haven't been able to get to him. He just mutters over and over. He could've lost you.

That man would've done much work that just kiss and grab you had he not been there.

Much worse. You would've been killed by the end of it.

"I won't lose you. I won't. Not again."

"Cooper." You tried to move around him to get infront of him, but a harsh grasp hand you in place. "Ouch! Cooper that hurt."

"Where do you think you're going?" -- "No where! I'm just worried about you!"

"I won't lose you. Not again."

"Wha-"

You didn't have time to talk, Cooper kissed you.

"Humph!" Your shock is muffled. You try to pull away.

He doesn't let go...

#yandere monster #yandere #yandere monster x reader #yandere character #fallout x reader #fallout ghoul #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #monster fucker #monster x reader #faceless bride's tag! 🪦🦋#sorry its kinda rushed at the end. tumblr fucked me over and i was angerly finished it

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citruslullabies · 9 months ago

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Ghoul x reader x Lucy, Cooper and Lucy find reader as they're traveling and take her in, Lucy falling HARD first and coop not being able to resist either!! Reader is like their cute lil partner, they do their best to share (or throuple!! Though I feel like no matter what they'd fight a bit over reader teehee)

Coming up!! Please be patient with me, I haven't written for these two before

Trigger warnings: none

Romantic/platonic?: romantic✨

Requested by: anonymous

Category: fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): Cooper Howard x reader x Lucy

Word count: 726

Cowboy Competition

The wastelands were violent, ruthless to kill anything on land from dehydration or starvation. Or even being killed to become nutrition for someone else.

But coming across someone alive and worthy enough of life was rare, and that's who you were. You were on the brink of death when they found you. The ghoul wanted to leave you for dead but the vault dweller stopped and tried to save you, even with the risk of being left behind but by some miracle the man decided he'd wait on her. Now you were part of their journey to find Lucy’s father for answers in which you had no questions, but understood that they did.

Lucy walked beside you, her big brown eyes watching your every step as you were cleaning Cooper’s gun. Cooper only allowed you to come along if you had made yourself useful, which you had tried to. She spoke up after a few moments, giving you a soft smile as she held her hands behind her back. “You know you don't have to clean his guns, right? He can do that himself. You don't have to worry about it.”

You looked over at her, but before you could answer the ghoul walking ahead of you two answered for you. He didn't turn around to look at you two but he still spoke up. “Now sweetheart, if she wants to clean my guns I have no objections. So don't go putting your nose where it don't belong.” he said while clicking his teeth together, looking down at Dogmeat as he trotted beside him. You gave a small bat of the eyes before smiling reassuringly at Lucy, freeing up one of your calloused hands to rest on her shoulder. The fabric of her jumpsuit felt so foreign to your hands, but you didn't mind.

“It's alright, I really don't mind. Don't really know how else I could make myself useful.” You hummed before continuing to walk and clean as you go.

Time had passed and you had come to the realization that their journey was a long one, but it was a bit too late for you to turn back now. Especially with growing affections from both of your new friends, Lucy being the first to show. She was extra sweet, helping you carry things and allowing you to rest against her shoulder when you made camp at night and she'd rub circles into your cheek with her thumb as you dozed off, which she just found to be the sweetest thing. But to Lucy’s dismay a certain cowboy started to take a liking to you too.

As things were settling for the night and it was time to rest, you were getting ready to lean against Lucy for warmth like you had been doing but a southern drawl caught your attention.

“How about you come over here and sleep in my arms darlin, I imagine I'm a whole lot warmer than Vaultie over there.” He drew out, sitting down with Dogmeat cuddled into his side. Cooper patted the canine on the head and gave you his signature smirk. “You can even snuggle with the dog, lord knows he won't leave my side.” He added to sweeten the pot, earning a scowl from Lucy before she gently took your hand in hers.

She squeezed your hand in both of hers, looking into your eyes warmly and lovingly as she tried to get you to look at her and only her. “I'm probably a lot more comfortable to lean up against, so why don't you just.. stay here? With me?” She offered softly, which led to bickering and you just laying down and trying to fall asleep alone to ignore them. Coop was in his 200’s and Lucy in her 20’s, yet they both behaved like children. You sighed and snuggled your shoulders into the sand, popping one eye open when you suddenly felt gloved hands scoop you up and hold you close, before a softer body laid beside the both of you and tried to hold you as well. It felt like getting tangled up in wires, but it was people. You tilt your head up to see Cooper laying back with his hat over his face, and Lucy with her forehead against your cheek with shut eyes.

For once maybe, they wouldn't be so competitive.

Thanks for requesting!

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justplainlovely · 4 months ago

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“Feelin’ better, sweetheart?”

Based on a season 2 idea by @faembrosia. This did not turn out how I expected at all, but I enjoyed writing it anyway! Will probably become part of a longer fic in the future, paired with another idea I saw on here that I already have an outline for. Let me know if you like it and if you do I’d be happy to continue.

After leaving the observatory, Cooper decides that Lucy needs to break. He’s been there before and it’s better she do it now than on the trail with the most dangerous critters in the wasteland.

Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard x Lucy MacLean.

WARNINGS: Swearing, violence, blood lust

Count: 4,696 words

Cooper books it on the old 210, Dogmeat trotting along like the faithful canine she is... well, maybe not faithful. She stops every few minutes now to whine at the person taking up the rear. Behind him, the vaultie huffs and puffs as the sun begins to set. Useless smoothskins. Can't keep up for shit. Especially no okie-dokie-ass vault dweller.

They moved nonstop from the Griffith at the crack of dawn. They had to. Coop was more preoccupied with tryin' to get away from the Brotherhood of Steel than he was in worrying about the current stamina of the woman a few paces behind him. It was his fault, of course, for mercing every one of them tin-can soldier boys and he knew they wouldn't take too kindly to anyone taking out their "well-protected", T-60-wearing knights, much less a ghoul. Much less the Ghoul. He grinned at the thought, imagining the mess that'd ensue if they did find him. Some sick part of him wished they would just for the thrill of a fight. Unfortunately, his ammo supply was cut in half during the shootout. He would have stocked up with what was leftover of the NCR’s stockpile, but timing necessitated a quick departure.

As he walks, Cooper's mind drifts back to his own struggles. He remembers the pain of his transformation, the loss of his daughter, and the desperate measures he took to survive. The memory of his cremello stallion, Sugarfoot, and the harsh decision took to end its life still lingered, a burning reminder of the rad-riddled earth he stalks.

He recalled escaping with his daughter on the horse, wrapping Janey's mouth and nose with the yellow handkerchief around his neck in the hopes that it would keep the particles away from her. That bomb was so close, and if protecting her was his one mistake, then he was happy to make it. He would make it again if it meant saving her from his fate. Of course, those times had worse pains than the idea of her succumbing. Being ripped away from her, being blocked from the Vault-Tec doors as his sweet baby girl shouted for her daddy, as she begged her mommy, was possibly the single worst heartbreaking moment of his life.

Cooper jolts to the present when he notices, out of the corner of his eye, that Lucy is now struggling to keep up. Her pace is slowing, and he can see the strain on her face as the sun dips lower into the sky. They were getting close enough, now, to Big Dalton Canyon and he knew those Brotherhood men wouldn't trek out this far. The array of radiated critters alone was enough to keep them at bay… radiated. Watching Lucy struggle with the rads was an aching reminder his own curse.

“Sir?"

Cooper's reverie is broken by Lucy's weak voice. He sighs and turns to face her.

"Sir... can we... can we stop... please… I’m…" she pauses, staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. She should be right to look at him that way. Perhaps he had finally killed that too-trusting, too-green, sweet-as-pie thing she had going on. Then again… wasn’t that why he invited her along?

“I can’t…” she panted, “I..."

Cooper surveys the perimeter, spotting the tin roof of what was an old fire station just outside the trail. He looks back to the young woman, a sickly sheen across her forehead and the whites of her eyes bloodshot. He had been sharing with her whatever water and food he had, but the rads in the water were no doubt doing a number on her. It was why he didn't let her have much of it. He has exactly two bags of RadAway on him and they’ll likely need to use one before her symptoms get any worse.

“Havin’ trouble keepin’ up, huh?” he says with a stupid smirk as he moves into her space.

Lucy frowns and shakes her head, "Sorry, sir. I... I know you're in a hurry... we're in a hurry... but... I…"

Before she can completely fall, Cooper moves fast and catches her by the waist. Dogmeat whines, licking Lucy's limp hand and sniffing the air for trouble. The shepard looks up at Cooper with those big ol’ puppy dog eyes.

“The fuck you lookin’ at me for? Scan.”

The dog immediately goes to work, her nose pressed to the ground as she scans the area for any signs of life. She barks and wags her tail, ears perked up, which he takes as a good sign. As he adjusts the vault dweller into his arms, he considers continuing further up the trail. The last time he traveled out this way there was a shack not far, perhaps 10 miles, from the mouth of Big Dalton. He can make it, for sure, but can she? Maybe. Only maybe. The risky part of going back down to the fire station’s the sheer size of the building. Anyone could be in there and it wouldn’t be smart for him to get ambushed while carrying 130-pound, radsick baggage. He sighs.

“C’mon, Dogmeat.”

The dog lopes alongside him as he heads for the shack. Sure it’ll be a journey, but it beats the possibility of whatever could be there. Rad sickness be damned. He isn’t gonna get held up when he’s gotten this far. When he’s so close to the possibility of seeing his little girl again. He knows, staring down at the vault dweller in his arms as he goes deeper into the trail, that this is what Janey would want. What Barb would’ve done… if he knew her like he thought he did.

Though he dares not admit it aloud, he has a great deal of respect for the young woman he carries. Giving him those vials back at the Super Duper Mart when she so easily, and so justly, coulda shot his ass on sight and left him in the dirt in his puddle of drool and blood… she was not pretending when she professed the golden rule. And although it would get her into all kinds of trouble out here, does get her into all kinds of trouble out here, it’s almost a comfort to know that things aren’t completely lost. That some of the good from the old world still survives in her, even if it had vanished from everyone else.

────୨ৎ────

Lucy starts awake, her eyelids heavy as she registers her surroundings. She feels incredibly dizzy as it all floods back to her; the observatory, the murderous Hank MacLean, the Ghoul standing in the setting sun, Maximus on the ground, made unconscious by her father’s hand. The radiation sickness is enough, but she feels sick all over again just thinking about it. She had never felt so useless before. It wasn’t her thing. Back home, she was an enthusiastic, hard-working community member with a dedication to team building and tenacity that put even the oldest vault dwellers to shame. She was lauded, applauded - confident, intelligent, and kind.

Up here, on the surface, these things mattered little and she found that out the hard way. Many times. She had several near-death experiences; fiends, ghouls, radroaches. She was also used as bait, had her finger cut off, was tied up and lassoed like an animal, and was sold to an organ dealership, all by the man… ghoul she was currently traveling with. Was she stupid for following him? For trusting again? Some part of her knows he’s right.

Max’s friend Thaddeus had said that the Brotherhood of Steel was a “complicated organization”. By surface standards, she took that to mean that they were willing to do anything for their mission and, not knowing herself exactly what that mission was, she wasn’t so keen on finding out what would happen if she stayed behind. Part of her also wonders what her company had to say about her father. What unsettling secrets will come to light when he decides she’s ready to hear the information.

At least when she travels with the Ghoul she has an idea of what to expect. Cruelty, snide remarks, sarcasm, belittling. But also honesty. He had never lied to her, at least, and that could be said for something. Her whole life had been a lie up until that point. But even though she has this, she still feels hollow.

She blinks rapidly when she hears the tiny screech of a critter, probably a roach, outside that brings her back to reality. A pinch in her arm that she looks down to follow to a drip bag of RadAway, a cough outside before she hears his inhaler puff. She peeks through the door of what she assesses as some kind of shack she sits in, a twin bed crammed in the corner with a rusted-out sink, no doubt useless, right beside it. Just outside the door, she sees the Ghoul toss a radroach into a battered can that sits in the middle of a fire he’d stoked. Lucy tries to get up from the bed, only for her foot to wobble underneath the weight of her leg. She falls back down, her eyes fluttering shut angrily, “Fudge…”

She wishes she could get up and help - prove herself, distract herself - but her legs are as strong as a fresh jello cake and she knows getting up would only cause more fuss. Better let him focus, as he had already wasted enough time taking care of her.

The sweet shepherd scampers into the shack and sniffs at her RadAway drip sight, panting and whining happily when she realizes she’s okay. Lucy involuntarily smiles when the dog rests her head on her thigh and she gives the dog, which he called Dogmeat - an ugly name if she said so herself - a gentle pat on the head.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. The Ghoul opens the door fully and eyes her with that curious tilt she was all too accustomed to. However, she can’t quite tell if he’s studying her, mocking her, or trying to measure her up for dinner in case she gets sick again. She figures it best not to dwell on the “what-ifs” of this particular scenario.

“Thank you.” She whispers.

He raises a non existent eyebrow at her statement before taking another few steps forward. Dogmeat retreats to the other side of the shack, where a decrepit rocking chair sits on the other side of the rusted out sink, while the Ghoul lifts up the RadAway bag to inspect it, “Don’t mention it, darlin’.”

It’s almost empty, about a quarter of the way, when he decides she’s had enough and not so gently pulls the needle out of her forearm.

“Ow!” She winces at the pressure and yanks her arm away.

He smirks as she moves her hand to the hem of her tank, tucked below the top of her vault suit which had been tied at her waist, and tears off a strip. She ties it around her arm to cut the bleeding, all the while avoiding his eyes.

“Gotta ration these,” he says, lifting the RadAway bag, “It’ll be a few days 'fore we get to the nearest settlement. I ain’t got no real use for 'em, obviously. Woulda sold 'em, had ya stayed with yer lil white knight. Didn’t expect you’d be foolhardy enough to come with.”

Lucy scoffs, “You know… I didn’t exactly follow you for your astounding moral character or anything, so you can just…” she stops, thinking better of it.

She wants to dig into him, to ‘tear him a new one’ as he might do to her, but stops herself. Her upbringing prevents her from that kind of vulgarity. Better yet, it’s best not to anger him when he so clearly holds the reigns in this situation. He could have easily left her to fend for herself after she fainted and she’s honestly not sure why he’d even bother to take care of her. She shakes her head in dismissal.

“‘I can just’ what, darlin’? C’mon now. Y’ain’t said much of nothin’ since we left the Griffith. Go ahead. I’m all ears.”

She has many questions. So many. How does you know my father? How can you track down people like this when there’s little physical evidence of them? You're looking for a family - how did you lose them if you're so good at this? When exactly did you turn into… what you are? Why are you such a son of a biscuit? Why does you look so familiar? He must decide that she takes too long, because then he brushes her off with one of his little grunts.

“Well,” he shrugs with a clap of his gloved hands, “the rad roach’ll be ready in a jiff. I usually don’t bother roastin’ ‘em, but with your smoothskin stomach ’n’ all… can’t be too careful.”

Lucy watches as he steps back outside and while she is not looking forward to their rad roach dinner she knows it beats the alternative. She noticed earlier he still had some of that “ass jerky” left and would rather nom the radiated soil on the ground than stoop to cannibalism. She’s not him yet. Not if she has anything to say about it. Though, the more she dwells on her vault upbringing, the more she thinks about her father and about what she told Max, the more she questions whether her vault’s existence, whether Reclamation Day, was a sham to begin with. And if it was, if it is… then what does that all mean for her? What does it leave her with?

She doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to become emotional on top of being the useless “vaultie" the Ghoul no doubt thinks she is. Lucy takes one cautious step off the earthy-smelling bed, Dogmeat crawls to her side from the other corner of the shack. The canine whines up at her and she gently scratches her behind the ears, earning a thump from her hind leg.

“Aww,” Lucy coos, “Do you like that, sweet canis familiaris?”

“Fuck kinda nerd speak is that?” Lucy turns her head to see him offering her a skewer stacked with meat. She cautiously accepts the offer, “‘Canis familiaris’"… Why, darlin’, were you some kinda scientist down in them vaults?”

He takes a big bite of his meat and she blearily looks down at hers.

Lucy scoffs, “I was a history teacher, thank you very much,” she takes a wary bite of the rad roach meat, grimacing when the robust, sticky taste hits her all at once, “All vault dwellers are given a thorough education of all subjects.”

He grunts, taking another bite of his roach flesh and tossing a piece to Dogmeat, who hungrily laps it up. Lucy’s tempted to throw her whole skewer down to the dog, but decides against it. The food will, hopefully, help to ease her stomach. Hopefully keep her occupied enough that she won’t think of all that she’s been through. That she won’t have to speak too much to the ghoul across from her and risk her already fragile grasp on sanity. He’s proven thus far to be an absolutely frustrating travel companion, if she could even call him such a thing. He was more like a reluctant guide.

And yet...

“Sweetheart?” he sing-speaks, breaking through her reverie, “Ya just gonna stare through me like that, or are ya gonna finish your meat?”

Lucy shakes her head. “Here,” she says, holding out the skewer, “I’m not that hungry, anyway.”

The Ghoul glances down at her hand, then her eyes, before reaching out and taking back the flesh he’d procured. She felt bad for only eating half of it, she was thin enough as it was, but she simply couldn’t stomach another bite. It wasn’t the worst thing she had put in her mouth on the surface by far, but one more bite and all of it would be on the floor.

He drops the rest of her meat onto the ground where Dogmeat feasts. Lucy turns her eyes to avoid the sight, suddenly feeling more queasy than she already was. She hears him set the now empty skewers on a hook and, out of the corner of her eye, catches sight of his hand going to his belt buckle and scrambles for the corner.

“Relax, won’t ya? Just gonna go take care of that fire.”

He turns around and heads in the direction of the fire pit he’d crafted - putting it out, as he said. Perhaps he isn’t all bad. Gruff, crude, disgusting at times, but not completely evil. She hopes her assessment isn’t off, hopes that she’s not completely “foolhardy” in deciding to follow him, even if he is her best shot at her father. She suspects he invited her for a similar reason.

────୨ৎ────

The following days had Cooper trudging them further east. The first day had seen them making it up to Nealey’s Corner where they slept outside, taking shifts to watch the camp. He’d gone first, letting the girl get some rest. It seemed to be all she could do these days; fulfill the basic biological functions, as she might say. He understood well, better than anyone, probably, what she was currently going through. He went through much of the same with Barb when he heard her speak about the bombs, so casually suggesting in that Vault-Tec meeting with those morally bankrupt higher-ups that they drop them to ensure results. To guarantee that the end of the world was in their control. He remembered how cold he felt then and the rage that swallowed him up in the time following… and this little killer hadn’t even had her blow up yet. He’d have to make sure to fix that.

The second day was met with more silence. She stayed glued to his side, standing at attention only when the wasteland greeted them with vile little critters looking for a meal, mostly rad scorpions and serpents in these parts, but they would reach the Mojave outpost in another four days, the Long 15 in a little over two, and it was crucial that she get over whatever the fuck she was going through before they get to deathclaw territory. She could hold her own against the scorpions and serpents, sure, but what they were soon coming up against was another beast entirely that had even ghouls like him frightened out of their wits.

That night, they set up camp in what seemed a long-since abandoned mechanic’s shop outside Summit Terrace, miles ahead of the Long 15. They roasted some rad scorp meat for dinner as Dogmeat crunched on a radroach just outside their temporary shelter, tail swishing through the soil. Cooper put out the fire with a dirt kick just as Lucy had taken the skewers off the now extinguished pit. They ate in silence, the crunch of the dog gnawing on grubs the only sound cutting through. Cooper gnawed on a skewer absentmindedly, eyes flicking between Lucy and the darkened wasteland outside. Even the mutt seemed to sense the tension.

It had been too long like this—Lucy, silent and sullen, her gaze distant. She followed orders, killed when necessary, but something was off. Cooper could see it in the way her hands shook, how her eyes would glaze over whenever her ghosts crept up on her. The kid was slipping, losing her edge, and they were running out of time before deathclaw territory swallowed them whole. He wasn’t about to drag dead weight.

He takes another bite and eyes her, deciding it's time to poke the hornet's nest.

“Well, well, well. Looks like someone’s lost their fire,” he drawls, breaking the silence with a forced grin, “How's it hangin', lil’ Miss Sunshine? You done with your vow of silence yet?”

Lucy doesn’t respond. She just stares at the snuffed out fire pit, her eyes dim, the muscles in her jaw twitching.

Cooper scoffs, tossing his now empty skewer aside. “C’mon, kid,” he grins, “Where’s that Vault-Tec initiative? Y’ain’t gonna make it to the Long 15 like this. Didn’t ol’ daddy MacLean raise you better?”

Still nothing. Her fingers tighten around the skewer she's holding, but her eyes don’t lift.

The ghoul leans back against the rusted bench and smirks, stretching his legs out. “Ah, I see,” he says with a chuckle. “You're missin’ your knight in shinin’ armor. That it? Can’t handle this big ol’ world without someone holdin’ yer hand, huh? I bet he’d have a good laugh seein’ you like this.”

That got her. Lucy’s eyes flick up, a flash of fire in them, but she chews her cheek and says nothing. Cooper grins, sensing the crack in her armor.

“There y’are,” he says, his tone sharper. “Look at you. All that Vault-Tec trainin' and you could barely handle a few rad scorps.”

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, voice lowering. “'Haps you’re scared. Just a lil thing out of her depth... ’S’that it, sweetheart? Ya know I'd be happy to hold your hand...”

Her grip on the skewer tightens, knuckles going white. She still doesn’t speak, but Cooper can see the cracks multiplying. Good. He needed to push harder. Just one more—

“Or maybe…” he let the words drag out, his grin fading. “you’re afraid of becoming just like him. Destroying everything in your path, just like he did. Is that what’s eatin’ at ya, sugar? Are ya scared you’re turnin’ into him?”

The skewer snaps in her hand, and Lucy's on her feet, glaring at him with eyes full of rage.

“Shut up.”

“Now we’re talkin’!” Cooper cheers, his grin widening as he stands slowly, wiping dirt off his gloved hands. “Finally, that spunk! Tell me I’m wrong. Or better yet, show me.”

Lucy’s hands tremble at her sides, her breath coming fast, her face twisting in fury. “I said - be quiet!”

“You’re almost there,” Cooper taunts, stepping toward her. “Go ahead, pumpkin, let it out. We both know you need this. You’re angry, and that’s good. But if you don’t deal with it now, it’ll get ya killed. And I’m not going to let that happen.”

“Stop it!” Lucy’s voice cracks, and she shoves him hard in the chest. Cooper stumbles back but catches himself, laughing darkly.

“Yeehaw!” he shouted, stepping right back into her face. “You wanna fight? Then fight. Prove to me you’re more than a useless vaultie.”

That's all it takes. Lucy roars, tackling him to the ground, fists flying. Yes! Cooper quickly flips them over so she’s on her back, but it isn’t for long. She’s flexible, something he wasn’t aware of. She turns at the waist, legs wrap against his side, and she throws him off seamlessly. Lucy’s onto her feet and he grins, jumping up to his.

"Ooo…" Cooper tosses off the tattered remnants of his duster and grins, “Kitty got claws!”

She screams, pushing him back up against the rusted remains of an Oldsmobile. He unsheathes his hunting knife, not with the intent to use it, and grazes her collarbone, exercising the softest pressure. Dogmeat takes interest now, whining at the pair of them, but Cooper shoos her away with the wave of his hand.

The distraction is enough because Lucy has his knife and she's about ready to press down on his jugular, “How dare you suggest that I’m anything like him! I could… I could never do something like that!”

“Oh, no?” He says with a smirk, swatting the knife from her hand, “Maybe I haven’t pushed ya hard enough yet.”

Cooper shoves her off of him, backing her up against the bench. Lucy shouts and kicks him in the chest, he stumbles backward. She rushes for his knife again, but he’s faster and he tumbles her to the ground. She yelps as her back hits the sand-covered pavement, nicking the side of her head slightly, drawing a little bit of blood, and that’s when the rage festers in her pretty, doe eyes.

Lucy goes for the same move, her hips writhing to the side this time to be met with his thighs squeezing her like a vice. Panting, she wraps her arms around his neck and pushes as hard as she can. It’s not enough to move him, but it’s enough to catch him off guard and she slips out from underneath him, back onto her feet again. She steps on his back with one booted foot and stares down at him. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little turned on by this point.

“Well, sweetie, I guess ya got me.”

She smirks something evil and that’s when he springs to action again. Cooper yanks her calf, sending her on a forward tumble and into the sexiest floor routine he’s ever seen. She sticks her landing and turns around, the fire still in her eyes.

“Gotta say, kid,” he spits, “you got spirit.”

“Fuck you!”

She rushes him and he takes in her posture, slightly off balance on her right leg, her left arm coming in for a punch, and he quickly sweeps his foot, knocking her onto her side. She whimpers, but before she can get back up he surrounds her again. Another miscalculation, she’s right next to his discarded hunting knife and she grabs it from the ground, pressing it against his throat.

“What if I did it, huh? Would you stitch back up just like those other ghouls?”

“I dunno, sugar. Ya got the gumption to find out?”

She presses slightly, drawing some blood, but he moves fast, yanking her arm aside and curling her up. Lucy breaks free again, bounding away from him with the knife. Cooper moves in a fluid motion, knocking her slightly off balance with a kick of his boot, taking his knife back, and sheathing the weapon. She growls and he finds himself with his back up against the Oldsmobile again, his smile widening as she wraps her hands around his neck. He lets himself relish what’s become of her. He’s responsible for this, at least a little, and it feels good knowing she’s finally exhibiting that potential. That she’s embracing the little killer she could be in these wastes.

Cooper doesn’t let her go too far, though. He sees the exhaustion in her movements, the way her blows lack the bite they had before. The flame is flickering out. He takes advantage, sweeping her leg out from under her and sending her tumbling hard against the opposite wall.

She tries to fight back, but the fight is drained out of her. Her eyelids flutter with the weight of it all—adrenaline running dry, muscles no doubt aching, and her mind cracking under the pressure of all that had happened. Cooper pins her against the wall, not too rough, but firm enough to make her understand that the game is over. They are done here.

She glares up at him, defiant, hazel eyes smoldering, refusing to give in. Her breath comes in quick, shallow bursts and their mouths are close enough that he can feel her warmth ghosting over his face, close enough to share the same air as it brushes up to the cavity in his face where his nose used to be. He schools his expression, tired himself by the time they wrap up.

As he looks into her eyes, something shifts inside him. He sees the same desperation and pain he had felt so many times before. The same fear of losing everything. He holds her there a moment, the only sound the now quiet breathing between them.

“Feelin’ better, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tears. Silent, at first. Then they come in waves, rolling down her cheeks. Cooper loosens his grip on her wrists. His face softens further, and he gently helps her stand up, supporting her as she sways. He had seen this kind of breakdown before. Hell, he’d had his own more times than he cared to count. She needed this. He needed to be there for it. He’d wished someone had been there for his.

#ghoulcy #cooper howard #lucy maclean #fallout #the ghoul #fanfiction #fight scene #cooper x lucy #not all canned peaches and marmalade

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