#norm x the ghoul

[titanbabyeams]

okay but how insane would I be if I admitted I was curious about the ship dynamic between The Ghoul & Norm?

The only issue I foresee is that, in my head, Norm is the younger brother and cannot possibly be over 22 years old… but boy, does that little worm in my brain bring up the ship every time I write.

Sometimes I just think it’d be so interesting? Norm has gained some backbone by the end of the series and I really think he wouldn’t be afraid to just… say what he thinks to The Ghoul’s face. He’d also have none of that ‘Vault Dweller Goodness’ that The Ghoul has associated with Lucy. There’d be a strange combination of respect and animosity… plus, I think he’d appreciated Norm’s dry humor.

Imagine: Lucy & The Ghoul are traveling together and Norm joins them at some point. Norm is keeping records of all the Wasteland creatures he comes across because he’s genuinely interested in how the surface has affected things and people…

…which leads him to asking rather probing questions to The Ghoul. Does he have genitalia? How long did the process take to become a ghoul? Are they experiencing radiation exposure just by traveling with him or do they have to be in closer proximity? Is he semen irradiated?

Purely scientific, of course, but The Ghoul would turn it right back on him and ask if he wants to experiment to learn these things.

Norm is disturbed, initially, cue crisis…

Who knows who knows.

[beauty-4-thebeast]

You can dismiss Norm's words about Lucy’s cannibal husband as merely a joke on the writers' part, but I dare you, tell me about one single time Norm was ever shown to be wrong about anything.

[nickbn26]

Norm previu o futuro:)

[scarletttries]

When Fallout Characters Fall In Love... (Fallout Show Request)

Pairings: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Reader, Maximus x Reader, Norm x Reader

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has sent in a request for the Fallout show, please keep them coming as this is definitely the show that I'm thinking about the most at the moment! Also let me know if you want a part two of these headcanons or something similar :)

The Ghoul:

- Cooper Howard couldn't put his finger on exactly when he had accepted that the life he now led would be one devoid of love, but it was a hollow feeling he carried in his chest wherever the wasteland took him. Maybe it was in the decades he'd spent wandering and gaining a reputation as a heartless cowboy without an ounce of mercy. Or the fact that he hadn't met anyone that had stirred up a single emotion inside him, fearing the aching betrayal of his wife would haunt him even as lifetimes passed. Maybe it came to him in the way he flinched each time he caught his reflection in the few unbroken windows he passed, flesh slowly forming caverns and creases where once there were only the faintest of lines that showed endless signs of life. The wasteland was no place for love. That's what he had decided.

- But even in the fall of civilization there's room for a surprise, and you were certainly one of those..

- He heard rumour of you before your bounty crossed his desk, a runaway scientist from a mysterious body known only as The Institute, a target to everyone for the sheer volume of classified knowledge you might possess.

- A life on the run was no easy one, and Cooper knew that better than anyone, so it didn't take long for him to track you down to a small town just on the outskirts of the radiation's no man's land. His gun was cocked as he strutted towards the half open door of the rundown house he'd narrowed your location down to, glancing at the poster in his hand one last time before he burst inside. Even from the poorly illustrated version of you, he could see your eyes were kind, almost hopeful, like you still believed science could make right what had gone so wrong in the last 200 years. He almost felt a tinge of guilt as he steeled himself for a fight, saying a silent prayer that you wouldn't be behind the walls in front of him.

- Stepping in carefully he expected traps, or an army of robots to jump to arms, but instead he found you travelling alone, a small satchel of papers clutched in your arms as you stared him down with a calm resolve that caught him more off guard than any weapon.

"Do you still believe there's hope for this world Mr Howard?" Your voice was soft, not the trembling fear he was so used to hearing. You stared up at him without a trace of disgust in your expression, your eyes locked on his as he considered your question, and then lowered his weapon.

"And what if I do?" His heart ached at the question, so hardened by years of cynicism that even the idea of hope and goodness were almost too heavy to bear. He felt more human than he had in years as you slowly inched towards him, the creaking floorboards beneath you cutting through a tense silence that had The Ghoul feeling like he was back on a movie set, everything so perfectly orchestrated to have his stomach in knots. And then you extended your hand to him and gave him the most genuine smile he could remember receiving in this whole sorry chapter of his after-life,

"Then I think we could really make a difference. Together." Your pip-boy screeched as his irradiated hand stretched out to reach yours, but you didn't flinch, gently squeezing the twisted flesh as you shook on what you bought felt in the depths of your souls was going to be a meaningful partnership.

- It would be a straight forward life trying to use your research to get the world back on track for there to be joy and peace again. But with The Ghoul by your side you can expect; a personal bodyguard who cares more about your safety than his own by far, a gleaming look of pride in his eyes any time you tell him which Cooper Howard film was your favourite, the slow and steady acceptance that he is still worthy of love even in his new twisted form, and Cooper being endlessly grateful that you are the person who wants to give that love to him.

Maximus:

- All Maximus had ever wanted was to be a knight of the Brotherhood. He wakes up every morning and does his best every day just to try and earn his spot in this family of welded metal and unflinching loyalty. It wasn't until you arrived on the base that he started to realise there were other ways he might form a family.

- A nearby village had been half destroyed by raiders until the Brotherhood stepped in, clearing out the violent scavengers and bringing anyone with skills they could utilise back to base for assessment. Maximus was sitting alone, nursing the most recent wounds inflicted by his so-called brothers when he watched you march in alongside two soldiers, the final evacuee of your faded community, a distance in your eyes that he felt akin with from his own home's destruction. You could feel his eyes on you before you spotted him, a rag damp with blood pressed to his nose as he sat huddled against a corrugated iron shack.

- Despite the sheer joylessness of the situation, Max couldn't stop himself from sporting a smile, waving at you like you had locked eyes across the schoolyard not some barren military base. Whatever he hoped for in that moment seemed to pay off as you waved back, a small laugh escaping your lips at the absurdity of his blood soaked grin. He watched as the knights around you escorted you to the medical tent for a check up, waiting until they left their guard posts beside you to sneak behind the off-white fabric, following some unknown instinct he'd never felt call to him before. You bolted upright where you perched on one of the medical beds as he appeared, visibly relaxing when you recognised him from outside and once again waving in his direction. His mouth worked faster than his brain in that moment, heart hammering in his chest as the words gushed out with his new found affections,

"I used to live in Shady Sands. I know what it's like to have your home destroyed, your family hurt, everything changing all at once. But you're safe here with the Brotherhood, and even if it doesn't feel like it today, things are going to be okay eventually. Also I'm Maximus and if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm, like, around all the time, and no one else really wants to talk to me so I'm probably going to be available... " He trailed off as he tried to recover what had ended up a far more embarrassing sentence than he'd hoped, his lungs burning as he realised he'd forgotten to take a breath through his whole winding spiel. But when you smiled at him any shame seemed to float away, and as you patted the bed and nodded for him to take a seat beside you, the once lonely squire suddenly felt much closer to finding a family than he had surrounded by his brothers.

- As you settle into life on the base, you and Maximus only grow closer. Expect; late nights of sneaking out of your dorm so you and Max can stare up the stars and plot your escape from this life, fantasising about what a life beyond these walls and this world could be like for the two of you, someone who has your back no matter how bad things get and how low you feel, and truly some of the most god awful flirting you will ever hear.

Norm:

- Growing up in the Vault, Norm had always been told the value of belonging to a community, and how everyone in the vault was just a big happy family. But none of that stopped Norm feeling like an outsider, like he didn't quite operate on the same wavelength as the rest of the cheerful strangers he shared his deep underground walls with. After a few of the annual exchanges between vaults, he had all but given up on hoping to meet anyone he felt he could actually feel close to.

- When his overseer father had finally decided it was his turn to continue the vault's legacy and be part of what Norm considered an archaic tradition of arranged marriages between the linked vaults, Norm couldn't have been more resistant. He pleaded for the council to reject his nomination, begging them not to force some young hopeful to be subjected to his notable lack of enthusiasm for the rest of their life in this dutiful swap, but with limited options of eligible young men, he soon found himself staring down the doors of your vault. The suit previously used by his fellow bachelors had been tailored to within an inch of its life to try and fit his slight frame, the shoulders still feeling like they hung off him, threatening to swallow him up along with ground as he watched the round door slowly start to roll open.

- He thought this whole thing was stupid and outdated, and he knew there was no way he could actually find someone to love and love him in return behind those doors, so why was his stomach so full of butterflies as slowly your face started to appear in the artificial light of Vault 33. He waited to see you throw him a false smile, going through the motions as much as he had planned to, or even a look of disappointment that he was not the man you had been picturing as the door crept open. Instead he really thought he saw sincerity in your eyes, a thoughtful understanding as he choked out his name, his stammering not going unnoticed by his sister who quietly chuckled behind him.

"It's really nice to meet you, Norm." You spoke each word with intention, like it wasn't just a rehearsed greeting but an honest confession that sent sparks flying in the air between you.

- Suddenly the pressure of matrimony didn't feel so all consuming. And maybe this system was more advanced than he had appreciated. And there might be a small chance that he wasn't destined to spend his life feeling like he was on the outside, that he might finally have someone that could take him as he is, darkness and light, for better or for worse.

- Whether you stay in the vaults, or make your move to the surface world, with Norm by your side you can expect: Sarcastic comments muttered under his breath at inopportune moments just to see the way you fail to contain your laughter, being the sounding board for all of each other's thoughts and feelings no matter how serious or silly they might be, Norm clinging to your side through everything knowing that he only feels himself when he's stood in your light, and being the one person Norm would do absolutely anything for, bringing out the bravery and intelligence that was always just below the surface of this sweet man.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Master List Of Works

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AO3 Profile

Asks and submissions are currently OPEN!

Please read the guidelines here before submitting.

[Long Form One-Shots]

☢️ A Week's Vacation in Goodsprings, Nevada

Raul Tejada x Female Reader

One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 9.9K

You're injured during a routine trip because you refused to listen to Raul, and he's none too happy about it. However, the down time you take to heal is also the perfect cure for the tension between the two of you.

☢️ Shoot the Moon

Norm MacLean x Female Reader

One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 30.1K

Vault life has never truly agreed with Norm MacLean. A bit of an invisible outcast thanks to his general disposition, the son of Vault 33's Overseer is growing lonesome as he reaches true adulthood. That is, until a transfer of personnel puts him into the path of someone who finally makes him feel seen. Will the expectations of others get in their way? Can Norm find the courage and strength to live the life he wants to live?

☢️ Carnal Lessons

John Hancock x Virgin!Female Reader

One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 20.0K

John's always had a 'thing' for innocence. When he meets you, a runaway vaultie looking for a new place to belong, that 'thing' gets him into far more trouble than he could have ever anticipated.

☢️ Duplicity

Prewar!Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Ongoing Work (TBC), Ask Submission (18+) / 11.4K

You've been forming a relationship with Cooper Howard over the last several months, one that isn't exactly becoming of a married woman or a man in the middle of an acrimonious divorce. The chemistry between the two of you is undeniable from the moment you meet, but when the alcohol starts flowing and passions flare, will you be ready to fully plunge yourself into an affair with the handsome star? For those who want their prewar!Cooper a little darker.

☢️ As A Dog

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

One-Shot (TBC), Ask Submission (18+) / 7.1K

After an especially tense moment, Cooper's companion decides she can't handle his bullshit. When she changes her mind, though, he decides to make her prove she really is sorry for leaving.

☢️ Grunt Work

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 3.9k

Cooper's favorite vaultie companion is pressing her luck as of late and requires some correction.

☢️ Working Girl

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 5.4k

You knew when you took this job that it wouldn't be easy, but you didn't know you'd be expected to sleep with ghouls.

☢️ Bloodletting

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 2.8k

No one told you menstruation would be such a nightmare in the Wasteland when you left the vault. Fortunately, Cooper can offer some relief.

☢️ Close Quarters

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

One-Shot (TBC), Ask Submission (18+) / 2.4k

Crammed into a tight space and hiding from supposed deathclaws, you and Cooper have some sweaty, silent time to kill. Fortunately, his thigh makes as nice a seat as any.

☢️ Smooth Skin

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 3.1k

Cooper is obsessed with the pristine nature of every little thing about his brand new vaultie companion. When she sleeps, he takes a chance to look closer.

☢️ A Fair Trade

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

One-Shot, Ask Submission (18+) / 3.9k

Taken captive by a man who runs an outpost, things get even hairier for you when your captor can't pay an owed bounty to a particularly intimidating ghoul. Then again, maybe trading hands wouldn't be so bad...

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[Drabbles / Headcanons]

☢️ Prewar!Cooper Howard

SFW

Has a new partner with a fear of horses. (X)

His middle name. (X)

Waxes his chest. (X)

Is a sugar daddy. (X)

Is a sugar daddy, pt. 2. (X)

Uses his sugar daddy status to get his way. (X)

On how he and Lucy would've met/gotten together in a pre-war world. (X)

Miscellaneous SFW Headcanons 1 (X)

Miscellaneous SFW Headcanons 2 (X)

NSFW (18+)

Gets a little rough with a rebound after his divorce. (X)

Has a secret fetish. (X)

Has a breeding kink. (X)

Has a corruption kink. (X)

Loves to fuck outside. (X)

Smokes during a blowjob. (X)

Gets tied up and teased. (X)

Has a partner with a piss kink. (X)

With a hairy partner. (X)

Is bisexual. (X)

With a plus-sized partner. (X)

Dick description. (X)

Provides some premenstrual relief. (X)

Gives a pedicure and is rewarded with a foot job. (X)

Uses sex toys. (X)

Knife and gun play headcanons. (X)

Whose dog is a bit of an unintentional cockblock. (X)

Miscellaneous NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)

Miscellaneous NSFW Headcanons 2 (X)

☢️ The Ghoul

SFW

Is falling in love with his companion, and things are a little weird. (X)

Admits he had work done. (X)

If you outright asked him for a kiss. (X)

With an unintentionally "sneaky" companion. (X)

Hurt/comfort blurb. (X)

Fluff headcanons. (X)

Uses his sugar daddy status to get his way. (X)

Miscellaneous SFW Headcanons 1 (X)

Miscellaneous SFW Headcanons 2 (X)

NSFW (18+)

Desperately wants to be soft with someone again. (X)

Has a breeding kink. (X)

Is excited when you try on some high heels. (X)

Has sex with you for the first time. (X)

Refuses to remove his clothes, ever. (X)

Captures you as a bounty. (X)

Has a corruption kink. (X)

Frenches you a Rad-X. (X)

Has a partner with a piss kink. (X)

With a hairy partner. (X)

Can smell when you're turned on. (X)

With a plus-sized partner. (X)

Mistakes your attraction to him for fear/intimidation. (X)

Dick description. (X)

Engaging in primal play. (X)

Uses sex toys. (X)

The Ghoul x Lucy Maclean NSFW Headcanons (X)

Knife and gun play headcanons. (X)

Wheedles you into liking anal play. (X)

Miscellaneous NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)

Miscellaneous NSFW Headcanons 2 (X)

☢️ Fallout 3 Content

Gob NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)

Charon NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)

Charon NSFW Headcanons 2 (X)

Charon x Virgin!Reader NSFW Headcanons (X)

Charon x Male!Lone Wanderer NSFW Headcanons (X)

Ahzrukhal SFW/NSFW Headcanons (X)

☢️ Fallout: New Vegas Content

Raul Tejada NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)

Raul Tejada NSFW Headcanons 2 (X)

Joshua Graham NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)

Joshua Graham NSFW Headcanons 2 (X)

Ghoul!Joshua Graham NSFW Headcanons (X)

Benny Gecko NSFW Headcanons (X)

Yes Man NSFW Headcanons (X)

Harland NSFW Headcanons (X)

Harland NSFW Blurb (X)

Beatrix Russell x Female Courier NSFW Headcanons (X)

Dean Domino NSFW Headcanons (X)

Jason Bright NSFW Headcanons (X)

Rotface NSFW Headcanons (X)

☢️ Fallout 4 Content

John Hancock NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)

John Hancock NSFW Headcanons 2 (X)

John Hancock SFW Headcanons 1 (X)

John Hancock SFW Headcanons 2 (X)

John Hancock Fluff Headcanons (X)

Nick Valentine SFW/NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)

Edward Deegan NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)

Edward Deegan Ramble/NSFW Headcanons 2 (X)

Kent Connolly NSFW Headcanons (X)

☢️ General Ghoul Content

On the eroticization of Rad-X and Radaway use. (X)

On ghoul semen. (X)

On ghoul scent marking/sense of smell. (X)

On pregnancy with a ghoul father. (X)

On the risks of a ghoul partner finishing inside you. (X)

On how a ghoul partner would behave during your period. (X)

On whether or not Marked Men could be rehabilitated. (X)

On sex pollen and the effect of high radiation exposure on ghouls. (X)

On sex with a glowing one. (X)

On ghouls and sex pollen.

On condom use with ghouls and the possibility of barrier contraception protecting you from rads. (X)

On the possible impotence that comes with ghoulification and how people deal with it. (X)

☢️ Non-Ghoul Content

Synths

On the possibility of synths being able to impregnate someone or carry a pregnancy to term. (X)

Norm MacLean

NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)

Maximus

General SFW/NSFW Headcanons 1 (X)

General Content

Who makes all the cigarettes in the Fallout universe? (X)

[m-musings]

Headcanons: Fallout Characters Love Language

A/N: let's gooooo y'all, I actually had motivation to write more than one thing this week, M is on a roll 🥳🥳🥳

Word Count: 534 Warnings/Other Notes: none!

Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard:

When it comes to our favorite gunslinger, his love language is different depending on when you meet him.

If you met Cooper before the bombs were dropped, his love language was physical touch.

He would always have an arm slung around your shoulder or a gentle hand slipped into yours as he walked around the movie lot during a break from filming.

But if you meet him afterwards, his love language has changed into words of affirmation.

Even though his time in the Wasteland has made him more wary of what people say, he can somehow tell when people are being truthful or not.

So whenever you tell him you trust, love and respect him, he grins gently, knowing you're being honest with him.

Lucy Maclean:

Lucy's love language is acts of service.

She would do almost anything to make sure the people she cares about are safe and happy.

I mean, c'mon, she traveled all across a blazing hot hellscape to look for her father and try to bring him home safely, she would do the same for anyone she was close to.

If you're in need of anything, Lucy will not only be glad to do it for you, she would volunteer near immediately to be of assistance.

She just enjoys helping, it makes her happy to see other peoples joy, even if she doesn't end up getting anything in return.

She would move heaven and earth if it meant that you would be even a little less stressed or tired at the end of the day.

Knight Maximus:

Maximus's love language is quality time!

He didn't necessarily get one on one time with anyone after Shady Sands was destroyed, so he longs for someone to focus on him and vice versa.

He would enjoy spending time with the few people he's close to as being in the BoS instilled a strong sense of community in him, even if it wasn't grown always in the kindest way.

Maximus knows how short life can be in the Wasteland, so when he's got someone he cares about, he's intent on being with them as much as possible before either of their time is up.

When you have any time to get some relaxation in, he is right there beside you, perfectly satisfied with simply being in your presence.

If you'd let him, he'd spend every waking moment spending time with you and making you feel loved.

Norm Maclean:

Norm's love language is most definitely physical touch.

He's a grump around most other people but when it comes to you, he adores every bit of attention he receives.

While he isn't one for a lot of PDA, he will not complain if you hold his hand or cling to him for a while when around the other dwellers.

When his dad and Lucy are gone, he seeks you out for comfort, holding you in his arms while he tells you his worries.

Norm can become lost in his own thoughts at times, so having your touch is something very soothing and grounding for him.

At the end of the day, behind all of the snark and sass lies a very sweet and very cuddly man who cares very much for you.

[bailadeluna]

[grandlinedreams]

|| this man is an exposed live wire in my brain ok

|| notes: uhh prequel to [this] and [this], semi Canon compliant, pre-s1 but mentions of pre-war Cooper, I love the dynamic 😔👌✨️

|| warnings: hopefully IC Cooper, asshole x asshole dynamic we love to see it, weapons/supply dealer!reader, Canon typical violence, mention of blood/reader is injured kinda, spoilers? Abt Cooper's backstory, kinda enemies to friends/lovers

He doesn't know why he's here.

No, that's a lie ㅡ he does know why he's here, he just doesn't want to admit it. To himself, or to anyone else, for that matter. That he needs help.

Those fancy little bullets for his gun are hard to come by, few and far between when he can't get them by looting and places like Ma June's enjoy extorting as much as they can for so very little.

There's a difference between business transactions and highway robbery, even now. Which is why he's here ㅡ he'd gotten talk about a place that sold weapons and weapon-related supplies at a fair rate, and necessity had made him swallow his pride to go and find out for himself.

Which is why he's not just turning around and fuckin' leaving.

The building is crammed between two others, as ramshackle as the rest being made of recycled tin and wood that's rotted by time and rain in places, but still suggests a stability that won't crumble if somebody breathes too hard on it.

Cooper's spurs jingle as he walks, lost momentarily to the chime of something over his head when he pushes the door open. He looks up, forehead creasing.

Is that a bell?

Rusted but still in working order, it clatters again when he shuts the door, looking around. It's about as put together as any other kind of shop, an eclectic organization to it ㅡ a couple of rifles, a pistol or two, along with an admittedly impressive assortment of knives ㅡ but it's the shine of something on the floor that makes Cooper stop.

His head cocks as he studies the stain, the still-slick shimmer to it that makes him crouch and drag two gloved fingers against it, studying the residue. Coppery, with a hefty dose of some kind of chem to clean it, but still unmistakable ㅡ blood.

Well damn. He doesn't know what's happened here and he's pretty sure he doesn't care to, much beyond the fact that if the runner of this place is dead, that puts a damper on things. Or maybe not ㅡ if nobody's here, what's to stop him from taking what he wants?

"If you're thinkin' of stealing," comes a call that snaps his head up as it echoes from further back in the building, "I'd advise you not to. Less you wanna meet your maker, then I'd be happy to assist."

It's a flat bravado that both amuses him and piques his interest, and he leans against the counter to rap his knuckles. "Not stealin'," he drawls, "just wonderin' what kind of business model you've got if you make customers wait."

"The kind where patience is still a virtue, that's what." Foosteps, unhurried ㅡ and then Cooper is staring at you as you round the corner. You've got a jumpsuit of some indistinguishable color opened to rest around your hips, dingy tank-top underneath ㅡ and a stimpak in your hand. No doubt for the mess of your other arm, bicep wrapped with gauze that's already seeped into a bloom of bright red.

Well now. Cooper wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but you still manage to surprise him. Enough that he's staring, which makes you scowl.

"I know that look," you challenge, "if you think I'm easy picking, you'll get a new place to breathe from, courtesy of the hole I'll put in your head."

Cooper's head cocks. "Well now sugar," he says, "that's not very nice now, is it? Wasn't even thinkin' of that." He turns, jerks a thumb at the half-assed cleaning of the mess on the floor. "That's your doin', I reckon."

You nod. "Don't get trouble much," you say, "but when I do, I make sure to prove a point." You jam the stimpak into your arm, and he watches the tension melt from your shoulders. "Now, what can I do for you besides point out the exit?"

Well damn, Cooper thinks again. You've got a pretty face, but it's at odds with the attitude coming from that nice little mouth of yours. About as welcoming as a rattlesnake and probably just as quick to anger, from the way you bristle as he eyes you.

"Need supplies," he says, and you snort.

"What a wellspring of information you are. What kind of supplies?" You eye him, brow furrowing. "You're a bounty hunter, aren't you? Get your kind in here all the time." You tap a worn boot against the floor, hands now on your hips. "Hope you got means to pay for shit, because I don't do tab and I sure as fuck don't do charity work."

Cooper isn't sure if he likes you or he hates you. Bit of both, he guesses. The like is tentative and the hate is more solid ground, because he hates just about everybody. Makes it easier to do what needs to be done.

"Well, sweetheart," he leans into the counter, tips his hat, "depends on what you got to show me that's worth buyin'."

You stare, unimpressed by whatever angle he's going for. He's handsome, you'll give him that ㅡ but not much else. He also reminds you of somebody, with that hat of his and the way he talks ㅡ the low, drawn out drawl that you've only seen in those movies you manage to scrounge up here and there for your amusement.

Rolling your eyes, you hold up a finger and shrug your arms back into the jumpsuit, though you don't bother to zip it up. "Gimme a sec."

You don't know why you're doing this. Entertaining the notion that if you show him good enough product, he'll become a regular. You like regulars, but most of what you get seem to run on about six months worth of visits and then vanish.

Probably dead. Such is the way of the world, and it's still enough to get by. But you like new faces.

To his credit, he doesn't flinch when you slap the first pack onto the counter, followed by a second, and then a third.

"This is baseline stuff," you explain. "Your usual grade of bullet. Black powder, the standard kick." You shove the first pack at him, let him inspect the bullets. "Then you've got these."

The second pack shoved over, thin fabric parted so he can eye the neat little row of what would be hollow-point bullets if they didn't end with a tiny, pointed bulb of red glass.

"Explosive rounds." Your expression is unreadable. "They do the job, but they need special packing. Unless you wanna be blown up before the damn things even get loaded into the gun."

Cooper hums, eyes the bullet he holds up, the barely there shift of powder in the glass. He watches as you push the third over. "And these?"

"Same, but they pack even more of a punch. I'd recommend only shooting them at shit you want up in smoke." You shrug. "Or people, deathclaws, whatever the fuck you do out there."

Cooper studies you. "Where did you get this stuff? Thought bullets were hard to come by."

You give him a flat look of annoyance. "I make 'em myself."

Cooper stares, then smirks. Another little tip to his head. "Really now," he says, watches you bristle like a viper, ready to strike. Wonders if those fangs of yours pack a punch, what he'd need to do to get you to spit at him. "How 'bout you show me, darlin'? Wanna make sure what I buy is good quality."

You should tell him to shove it. Tell him to get the absolute fuck out of your shop, take his fuckin' yeehaw personality to someone else in the mood to deal with it ㅡ but you don't.

Instead, you sigh and tug the packages back, moving away from the counter. "Well c'mon then," you prompt, irritated. "Don't have all goddamn day."

The back of your shop is half a home and half a workshop, sprawled mess of equipment rusted with time but otherwise well maintained, smell of grease and hot metal and gunpowder that clings to everything.

You don't have to look back to know he's followed you, the jingle of his spurs as he takes his time, eyes missing nothing. The boxes of empty casings and empty glass bulbs ㅡ and the Mister Handy that's slumped in the corner, sparks spitting from it.

"Poor thing got shot first with that...situation earlier." Your voice is quiet. "Gotta fix 'im if I can."

Kind of funny, you sound sadder about the damn machine than the fact you'd killed someone over it. Then again, they'd been trying to kill you, so...eh. Justified, in your book.

The rest of the room is a haphazard attempt at something like a house ㅡ a couch with blankets on it, a short stack of books gone yellow at the edges, a coffee table ㅡ and sitting on it is a shitty little television, staticy and without color ㅡ but that doesn't matter. What matters to Cooper is that he knows what it's playing.

Your flitting around fades a little as he watches himself on screen ㅡ forever ago, a lifetime ago. Before the bombs, before vault-tec ㅡ when he'd been happy.

He'd loved his life, his family ㅡ and they'd loved him too.

"I've got enough stuff to make another round of flash-baㅡ" You stop, blinking at the way he's staring at the television. "Somethin' wrong? I know this isn't much, but it's my way of living, soㅡ"

"Stop your yappin'," Cooper rasps, and you glare as he shakes himself out of whatever reverie he was lost in. You scowl.

"Look, I know this doesn't seem like much of anything, but this is my business, and my shop." Your eyes narrow. "So try to be a little fuckin' nicer if you want me to sell you anything."

Whatever patience he'd had left promptly snaps like a bowstring as he snatches your arm, grips it tighter than he should. "Listen, sweetheart," he hisses, "what exactly is stopping me from just takin' what I want and leaving?"

Something whirrs behind him, distracts him just enough for the cool, sharp kiss of metal at his throat.

"Do it," you taunt, expression unreadable, grip tight on the blade you hold to his neck. "You're not the first one to try, and you won't be the last."

And there, Cooper notes, are your fangs, ready to sink into his skin. The two of you stare at each other for a good, long minute while the Mister Handy spits and sputters. And then Cooper huffs something like a laugh. "Glad to see you've got some bite to you, darlin', but I still think I could handle you."

A threat and something a little less hostile all in one, even as you yank your arm out of his grasp. "You couldn't handle me even if I came with a fuckin' manual," you snap back, but there's a playful gleam to your eyes. "You gonna buy anything or just lookin' to be a pain in my ass?"

A crooked grin tugs at Cooper's mouth. "Both."

ㅡ

The truce between the two of you is tentative. An understanding in the barest sense, because neither of you are dumb enough to pass up a lucrative, beneficial deal. He gets his supplies, you get caps. Simple.

You won't go as far as to say you're even friends, up until the point that you greet him on a visit with, "You know, you remind me of somebody."

He eyes you. "Really now. And who would that be, sweetheart? You workin' with more ghouls than just me?"

You snort. "Careful," you tease, "you almost sound jealous." Your tone quiets as you drum your fingers on the counter. "Nah, you remind me of that one actor, Cooper Howard."

Cooper stills. Watches you warily, turning a spent bullet casing over and over between gloved fingers.

"He played a cowboy," you say, nodding to yourself. "Talked like you do, too. Good movies, at least the ones I've gotten my hands on." You eye him, playful light to your eyes. "Wouldn't happen to be a fan of him too, would you?"

Cooper debates. He's not sure if you've put the pieces together and if you have, you're polite enough not to say it. He appreciates that, makes that fleeting temptation of putting a bullet in your head all the more temporary. He likes you. Be a shame if he had to cut ties.

"No," he answers. "I can safely say he and I are nothin' alike." Not anymore. He lets himself lean over the counter, too close to your face. Intimidation, maybe, or perhaps just because he likes being able to look at you like this. "Got anythin' else to tell me?"

Your eyes flick over his face, down to his lips as you lean a little closer, the suggestion of your mouth just shy of his. "Yeah," you murmur, quiet. "Next time you come by, work on your fuckin' manners."

[k0dster]

Okay, okay, listen.

Fallout prime au where Barb wasn't the villain ever and let Cooper get his ranch. Like, obviously without all the nuclear war and stuff. Bear with me: Lucy, Max, Dane, Thaddeus, and Norm are all ranch hands.

The idea of them all huddled around a campfire singing along as Coop plays Take me home, country roads on his guitar is inspiring me to actually draw after like 3 weeks

[falloutwithmegirlypop]

Request rules

Hi, FWMGP here. I’ve loved the fallout series since its debut, and I think it’s time I put my skills to work. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to write everyone requests, but I’ll sure try. No Smut (for now) but slight spice is all good. Ageless blogs please leave, 17+ only.

Characters

✨My faves✨

Show

Chet 💛💙

Lucy 🥺🥺💙💛

Maximus ⚔️🛡️

Thaddeus 🤴

Norm 👾📀

Game

Travis miles (Love him) 🥺❤️❤️

Nick Valentine 🤖🕵️❤️

Preston Garvey 🤠

Piper 📝

Benny Gecko 🔪🔪🔫

🖐️other characters🖐️

Cooper Howard

The ghoul

The raiders

The brotherhood of steel

Moldaver

Siggi witzig

Steph

Barb

Handy

Potentially other characters( put in request)

Readers

Only x readers, but poly including reader is ok.

Any kind of reader, please put preference in ask, specifics are ok. Don’t be afraid to ask. I write MxM FxF MxF etc, but I’m best at Female and male as-well as female and female.

Rules

No gross stuff

No incest

No generally upsetting kinks

No under age

Absolutely no bestiality

Dub con in certain places is ok, but no non-con.

Current requests

In progress:

Fallout Max x reader

Next:

Chet x reader getting married

Chet fluff headcannons

Ghoul!Thaddeus x reader

Done:

Norm x unenthusiastic reader

Chet x fem reader

Please ignore any grammar mistakes, I have shaky hands.

[lyingindecay]

Intro/Rules

Hello! You may call me Decay. I'm just a silly little (not really) she/they. I'm 25, and post ns//fw stuff, so please MINORS DNI! I made a post a couple day ago but decided to make an official post type thing.

I have loved fallout for like 8 years now and used to write OC/Character stuff (never posted it anywhere but i'm sure i still have old docs somewhere) for Fallout! This show has ignited my love for the game and now I'm writing reader insert fics lmao

I do take requests, and they are currently OPEN!

Some quick rules!

I MOSTLY WRITE SMUT!! Minors, please do not interact with me, my content. I'm not trying to be a bitch. I will block minors/ageless blogs.

I do not write: Incest, pedophilia, bestiality, noncon, yandere (this may be added to as time goes on!)

I have the right to deny any requests (whether it's because I am uncomfortable, or because I feel like I can't write that specific request)!

I do have a full-time job and also Mental Illness, so, sadly, I can't spend all day writing (I wish I could). I'll post as often as I can though.

I only write reader inserts!

I also write poly fics! So, I wouldn't mind writing character x character, as long as there is a reader is involved.

Characters I currently write for (this can be added to at any time!):

Lucy

Cooper

Maximus

Norm (short king)

Thaddeus

May actually write for some game characters eventually, but we will see

That's all for now, and happy requesting! I love talking about my special interests, so even if you don't have a request, feel free to just talk!

[vaultie-and-theghoul]

Ask Vaultie and The Ghoul!

(NO MINORS ALLOWED)

The Ghoul: I dont know about this big brain idea of yours, Vaultie...

Vaultie: What are you worried about what kind of questions your fans have? *smirk*

The Ghoul: MY fans? Sweetheart everyone is here for you. 'Sides I ain't got no shame when it comes to those kinds of questions Vaultie. *wink wink*

Vaultie: *blushing from cheek to chest* Okey Dokey, Let's do this!

Dusty: Well I guess I should introduce myself to y'all. You can call me Dusty! I am the writer for this blog and I do hope this takes off. I am 27 and I use They/Them pronouns. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask! Just include "Dusty" in your ask or else Lucy and Cooper might answer instead *wink*

~If you are interested in playing along, please read below the cut!~

~The Do's and Do Not's~

Do: Specify who the question is for.

Do Not: Hate on other ships or new fans.

Do: Get creative! Give me a challenge.

Do Not: Spam the asks with the same questions.

Do: Feel free to ask about the storyline of Vaultie and The Ghoul!

Do Not: Send asks about characters not in the Fallout franchise.

Do: send asks for side characters (Maximus/Norm/Thaddeus/Dane)

Will Get You Banned

Any homophobia/transphobia/xenophobia etc

Any inappropriate questions aimed at admin (Dusty)

Any racism or sexism

Any death threats or bullying

[gabriellerudessa]

Compass (Norm Maclean x OC) - VIII

"Had something happened to Marigold? God, he hopped not.

If she didn’t appear after the time given… He would go after her. Norm understood her reasoning for going alone, he didn’t have the experience and would just hinder, but he refused to remain hidden or worse, leave without her, when she could be hurt somewhere deeper in the building.

He refused to repeat the attack."

AO3 | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV | Part XV | Part XVI | Part XVII | Part XVIII | Part XIX | Part XX | Part XXI (Smut) | Part XXII | Part XXIII | Part XXIV | Part XXV | Part XXVI (Smut) | Part XXVII | Part XXVIII | Part XXIX | Part XXX | Part XXXI | Part XXXII | Part XXXIII | Part XXXIV (Smut) | Part XXXV | Part XXXVI (END)

PLAYLIST ON YOUTUBE

Word Count:

Warnings: Wasteland Typical Violence

VIII

They crossed the rest of the desert towards the ruins in under two hours after the sun had appeared, slowing when the piles of rubble became taller and more frequent. Marigold had the damn lipstick on again, but it was easier to ignore as they had to pay more attention to the path and the occasional beeping of his Geiger count.

Norm could see how tall the ruins were, even if most of them seemed to have collapsed either into themselves or to the sides after the bombs and as centuries passed. Some of them, while not intact, were still recognizable as being built following the same standard.

“It seems it was some type of business center.” He mentioned, an eye on the map.

“Yeah.” Marigold sighed, arms crossed and head turning this and that way.

The buildings were about to become denser, an avenue crossing the ruins ahead. To the south side, they could see the desert; to the other, a tall wall of rubble made of concrete and forged iron. The remains of a fallen building. Marigold tapped her chin, then started scaling up the wall.

“Wait down here and keep an eye around, scream if you see anything. I’ll take a look from up there.”

“Be careful.” Norm eyed warily the precarious footings and handlings she used to pull herself up, then forced himself to look around and pay attention.

There was only the wind, whistling more than normal with how it ran through the ruins, and the desert with small, withered shrubs, rocks, occasional piles of rubble, and some far away small buildings – shacks? Cabins? Houses? He didn’t know, but the store they had spent the night had disappeared in the horizon long ago.

“Oh, you’re fucking kidding me!” Marigold’s voice travelled down, and he looked up. She was already at the top, feet spread for stability as she looked beyond the wall, a hand shading her eyes.

“What?!”

“There’s even more fallen buildings this way! Circle through here will be a fucking nightmare, too many hiding places for whatever thing!” She turned, looking to the other side. “There looks better…”

“I can hear a ‘but’!”

“I think I’m seeing something!! Just give me a moment!”

He looked at the desert again, not seeing whatever that had attracted her attention, hearing Marigold mutter curses, and looked up to see her backpack in front of her body, taking the pair of binoculars. She fiddled with them a little, slowly turned her head… And froze.

A full minute went on, and Norm was starting to get worried and at the point of screaming to get her attention. She moved before it, thankfully, hastily storing the binoculars back, and climbing back down once her backpack was in place again.

She jumped the last feet, striding towards him. Somehow she looked pale, the look in her eyes terrified.

“What did you saw?” she didn’t answer him immediately, just grabbed at the back of his coat as if he was a stray cat and practically dragged him with her towards the avenue and inside the ruins. He didn’t resist, but it was hard to keep her pace. “Marigold, you’re worrying me.”

“Pack of Deathclaws.” And a dam was broken. “Fucking hell, I knew my luck was holding for too long. For fuck’s sake, a fucking pack, it explains so much why we haven’t stumbled into a single fucking trader or small settlement or whatever around here. Fucking hell. What the fuck.”

“What is a Deathclaw?” Norm thought the name was a good clue, but he wanted some confirmation before freaking out.

“Stuff from worst nightmares. I’ve heard of some cases where they clawed open a Power-Armor as if it was a tin can. No way we can risk circling through a side that takes us so close to them.”

Norm felt his stomach plummet to his feet, and like her he started to throw worried looks towards that side of desert, until concrete and ruins blocked his sight and he looked ahead again.

“Oh God.” He whispered, and the hand on his back tightened.

“Exactly. Pray they don’t move up here and get our scent. And that there ain’t more inside the ruins.”

---------

At the start, it wasn’t so hard. The first dozen feet of the avenue were relatively clear, and Norm thought that maybe they would be able to just walk it all the way out of the ruins, directly east, not a single hitch.

Then the piles of concrete, structural iron, trash and rubble started, gradually narrowing the path. The first crossing was all right, the second manageable, but before the third the pile was more like a wall.

“Think we can scale it?” He asked Marigold, eyeing cautiously the wall, and heard something in it groan.

“Yeah, no. It doesn’t look as stable as the one outside. Not worth the risk.” She turned and watched the buildings to the sides. “That store is a hazard, we’ll spend more time moving things around so we can start to walk inside it, and I can’t see an entrance to that other building.”

“Backtracking it is then.” He sighed. Another thing adding hours to their travel.

Marigold nodded, starting to carry her hunting rifle loosely in front of her body, and as they walked back to the previous crossing, the tension in her face and body became obvious, her head turning at any sound that not the wind whistling between the buildings.

They should stick to try and head east and north as much as possible. Norm kept an eye on the map when they reached the crossing, body turning to the street that headed north, Marigold beside him.

Ahead, the front of one of the buildings had collapsed outwards, just most of the iron structure still standing, rusted all over. Despite the height of the pile of concrete and window frames, there was a narrow path to the side.

“Think it will all come down over us if we take it?” He pointed the path with his chin, and Marigold grinned.

“Don’t ask that, with my luck today it’s very possible.”

He shook his head with a slight smile.

“Let’s put the names of the avenues and streets in the map, so if we need to head south or west, we know which ones are the limits.”

Marigold’s grin dissolved in a wince, even as she nodded and looked around.

“Yeah, considering how these streets are, it’s very possible we’ll have to do a lot of backtracking and circling.” Then she headed towards a post, plaques dangling from it.

Norm watched Marigold, her eyebrows slowly frowning, squinting, then eventually just scratching at her eyes and mumbling a curse.

He approached, looking at the same plaques. Dirty and rust smeared it, some letters faded, but eventually he managed to read and note them down.

“Sorry.” She finally said, lowering her hand with a sigh.

“Don’t be. It’s very deteriorated, kind of a miracle it’s still up.”

Marigold pressed her lips, starting towards the street and he followed. They had to walk sideways across the narrow path, and Marigold kept hold of his wrist during it.

“It’s not only the plaque’s deterioration, Norm-boy.”

She finally said when the path widened again, following the street, her rifle in hands; she seemed… Embarrassed, not looking directly at him, almost pouting in how her eyes looked everywhere else.

He remembered her typing at the terminal in the ranch. Painfully slow, squinting at the screen, a lot of curses.

“Is it… Something with reading, then?”

Marigold let out a loud sigh, looking up for a moment.

“It’s just… Hard, no matter how much I practice. The letters just start to fucking swim and mix up and it just gets worse the more frustrated I get.”

“… Sounds like dyslexia to me.” He wasn’t an expert, by all means, but it was something that the adults paid attention in the small children inside the Vault.

Norm remembered Jimmy, a colleague from his class as a child that had it. Sometimes he got so frustrated he cried in class. The teachers had to have a lot of patience with him. He was also pretty sure Lucy had a student with it, sometimes she rambled on about it.

“There’s a name for it?!”

The shock in her face and voice as she snapped her head to look at him again was painful.

“Yes. I just… I’m sorry, I know there are techniques that can help, but I don’t know them.” Lucy would know.

She smiled, the soft, pretty one, and squeezed his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, Norm-boy. Having a name helps, now I know what to search for, and I’ll pass along to my family when I can, so thanks.”

He managed to smile back and nod, the heat rising up along his neck.

“I’ll… Take care of reading the plaques for the streets then.”

She nodded back, and they focused again on the path.

---------

They kept heading east and north as much as possible, but like that crossing, sometimes the path was just impossible and they needed to turn into a street towards south or even west, hoping to circle back into the same ones heading north and east, or go back to a previous crossing, or return even more, to where they had taken the turn and try another route.

The saving grace, Norm rationalized, was that they never needed to go past those limit streets where they had started, so they knew they were still more or less on the right track, even if it was at a snail pace.

Marigold, however, had only gotten more tense as the hours sped by them and they remained inside the ruins, growing increasingly grow more silent, fingers tight around the hunting rifle, lips downturned, and worry creating wrinkles besides her eyes. She had explained it was because they hadn’t found any bodies, animal or human, and most of the tracks she saw were old. Both things were unusual.

Still, Norm was pretty sure that most of it was actually the silence.

Unlike the desert, the wind couldn’t travel as far and with the same speed between the buildings at ground level, so they barely heard it. Occasionally they heard something pop off or bang in the distance, always startling the two of them. There wasn’t dried bushes and grass shuffling, no sand being blown off, nothing of the occasional small critter flying and walking around.

It was eerie. Even more after the last days, where there was always something beyond them making noise. He was pretty sure not even the Vault was ever that silent.

They both sighed at yet another blocked path, and Norm spied a glass door on the building to the side. Unlike most of the ones they had passed, it didn’t seem to be barred from either side.

“Marigold.” She turned, following his pointing hand. “Think we can use it to circle this mountain of rubble?”

They approached the door, stepping over a half broken wood plaque for a liquor store, and tried to peer inside through the dirt.

Tumbled shelves, glass bottles all around the floor, and what seemed to be an arched doorway leading deeper into the building.

“We could try. Even if it doesn’t pan out, it’s a place to stop and eat something out of sight before continuing.” She tapped the glass and its frame loudly, and nothing stirred inside.

Norm tested the door handle, and while the door shook, it didn’t open.

“Locked.”

“Ever lockpicked something, Norm-boy?” she gave the extra trouble grin, and Norm chuckled a no.

She was already taking a couple of bobby pins from the bag-belt.

---------

Norm was a fast-learner, she had to admit. While he did break two bobby pins on the door while trying to follow her instructions – giving that determined look to the lock, eyebrows frowning and lips in a line –, third was the charm, and the door unlocked with a small click.

His smile of accomplishment was even better than the determined face. The flush of color on his face as she gave a clap of congratulation on his back made it sweeter.

Marigold readied her hunting rifle and stopped in the entrance, kicking a glass bottle with purpose towards one of the metal shelves. It clanged loudly, the sound echoing inside the building. They both paid attention, hearing, but there was nothing, not even when the sound stopped.

There was a hole in the ceiling, connecting the store to the upper floor, and she glimpsed household appliances as she threw another bottle up there. It clanged into something, but again no other sound.

Safe enough for a quick lunch. They sat behind the counter and shared some of the dried radstag.

“Think we’ll manage to leave the ruins before the sun sets?”

“I wish, Norm-boy, but we’re having to backtrack so much that I doubt.”

And she hated that, because the longer they went without stumbling into absolutely anything inside the ruins, not even fucking bodies or more recent tracks, the more worried she got.

No wild dogs, no radroaches, no even feral ghouls. Granted, they had avoided going inside anything until now, but it was still weird. They should’ve stumbled into something in the streets, into tracks younger than some weeks. No way the Deathclaws would have scared off everything so far away. It should be something else.

And the fucking silence.

Norm poked her in the arm, then pointed upwards. Marigold looked up, hearing, and stopped chewing the meat… And there. A drag. And another. Shuffling steps. A groan.

She shouldn’t have worried so much about the silence. Fucking hell.

It sounded a lot like feral ghouls. They should be far away enough to not actually be alarmed by the previous sounds, either many floors up or many rooms to the sides. Some other thing up there had woken them, and with her rotten luck, it had been the most stupid thing, like a fucking baseball ball falling on someone’s head.

A fast look around confirmed that her hunting rifle would be a bad choice if they were swarmed by them, the space too cramped.

Stuffing her mouth with the last of her dried meat, she looked over the counter at the arched entrance leading inside the building. Didn’t seem to be blocked, but it was dark. Risk seeing if there was a path out into the other street ahead, or go back and make the biggest circle?

Still paying attention to the sounds some floor up, she turned to whisper directly in Norm’s ears – she wouldn’t take any risk of the ferals hearing them, thank you very much.

“Sounds like feral ghouls. Sharp hearing, so careful.”

“Do we just go back?” he followed her example, his lips grazing her ear. How she wished it was a different situation…

“I was gonna ask this. I can check if there’s a path there, but you have to stay here and be silent, it’s a good hiding spot. Or we just go back and circle.”

Norm made a long moment of silence.

“… Why I have to stay if you go?”

“Do you know how to walk in the darkness, ground full of trash, without making noise?”

“… No.” A pause. “Fine. Check if there’s a path.”

She was already making sure her bracers were fitted, sliding a hand under her cape to get her drop-point knife, the handle made of radstag antler comfortable in her hands as the blade stuck out between her middle and ring finder.

Granted, she should be using it only for dressing and skinning, but desperate times called for desperate measures. As long as Pa Isaac didn’t discover, she should be fine.

“I’m coming back in ten minutes, path found or not. Keep your knife in hand.”

She retreated, seeing a spot of smudged lipstick in his earlobe – Oh God, that was staying there –, and nodded. Norm nodded back, and she got up.

---------

His legs were getting tired, but he didn’t dare move to try and find a better position. The most he moved was the knife, trying to keep from holding it tight enough to the point of numbing his fingers.

The ten minute mark was almost up, and he would be lying if he said the worry wasn’t starting to get too him. Besides the ferals moving up there, their sounds increasingly closer, he couldn’t hear anything else.

Had something happened to Marigold? God, he hopped not.

If she didn’t appear after the time given… He would go after her. Norm understood her reasoning for going alone, he didn’t have the experience and would just hinder, but he refused to remain hidden or worse, leave without her, when she could be hurt somewhere deeper in the building.

He refused to repeat the attack.

Besides, he wasn’t sure how long it would take for him to find Lucy all alone. And he would never be able to look one of the Bears in the face again, and they lived close to the Vault, so… Yeah. Running away or remain in hiding wasn’t a feasible option.

A groan-roar, way too closer than before for comfort. Oh shit.

Norm slowly looked up towards the hole in the ceiling. There was something ambling up there, dressed in rags, bald, the skin all dried and wrinkled and rotten and burnt looking, fingers claw like, jaws flexing. He couldn’t say if it had been man or woman.

That was a feral ghoul. Damn it. It was way worse than he had imagined.

As he looked, the feral got closer and closer to the edge of the hole, and his eyes got bigger. No no nonono…

The thing dropped to the floor below, and it shambled to stand. Remembering Marigold’s words about their hearing, Norm slowly covered his own mouth and nose, trying to not breathe too loudly, praying the thing wouldn’t turn towards him.

It turned. Norm saw the cataract covered eyes – Thank God it couldn’t see him – and a hole where the nose was supposed to be, skin and meat flaking off and exposing the skull. It kept turning.

The feral ambled around the store, kicking bottles and stumbling into the metal shelves. Upwards, the others started to pick up in their movements and sounds. Great.

Then the feral stopped, a sniffing sound reached Norm, and the next turn of its body was purposeful.

It started walking, still sniffing, and picked up speed. Towards him.

Oh God he would die.

An echoing BANG, brain and thick blood spurting out of the feral’s head, the body flying to the side with the impact, way too close for comfort.

The shot was still echoing as he got up and Marigold appeared in front of him, pulling him by the arm.

“C’mon, Norm-boy, that’ll have been a hell of a call to every feral in the building!”

They went through the arched doorway, Marigold guiding the way with sure, fast steps, never letting go of him, the rifle dangling from her shoulder and that weird knife in hands. Upwards, the groans and roars got louder.

“How long for the exit?!” he screamed without meaning to; his ears were still ringing. Out in the desert it hadn’t been that bad.

“Not long! Sorry for the delay, a pair of them fell from the ceiling when I was coming back!”

They passed a beam of light from a window, and it highlighted blood dripping from her forehead. Norm forced himself to remember that the head was that stupid thing that bled a lot for nothing, Lucy’s words, or he would start to hyperventilate.

A feral dropped in front of them, above a dead one. Before it could get up, Marigold jumped ahead and drove the knife into the spine, making an arched movement as she took it out that made the feral stop moving even as it kept groaning, still pulling Norm.

They turned, and an emergency exit appeared. They burst out into the city’s ruins, the light almost hurting his eyes.

Marigold practically threw him to the side as she braced a shoulder against the door. Something banged against it, the roars and groans and growls inside unrelenting as the door shook – oh damn, they had been too damn close –, and Marigold held on. But she was just human, and God knew how many of those things were inside.

Norm looked around for something, anything, to keep that damn door closed.

A piece of structural iron from another building, half fallen already, diagonal above Marigold and precariously hanging from power lines on the other end. If it had fallen earlier, it would’ve blocked the door and they would be toast.

But it hadn’t, and in that moment he regretted not knowing how to shot.

“Oh, this will be a fun thing to brag about at home.”

Norm looked down, and Marigold had her eyes on the power lines. The smile in her face was positively feral. The blood didn’t help the effect in the slightest, and it made him dry-swallow. He didn’t know if he was supposed to feel worried, alarmed or turned on.

“Hey, Norm-boy, take this.” He blinked and jumped ahead, taking her knife.

The door shook and the growls were louder than the ringing, Marigold’s boots slowly sliding against the asphalt. She pulled her hunting rifle ahead of her body, throwing her weight against the door and twisting so she could properly support the gun against her shoulder and aim while still keeping it closed.

It looked damn uncomfortable. Norm was also almost sure that she had shot with her other hand before – was she really good with both hands?

“Better get back.” She said, and Norm was still stepping away when the first shot echoed, one of the power lines snapping. The iron groaned and shook but remained. “Stubborn, ain’t you? Two now and you better fall, motherfucker.”

The second shot rang, first one power line whipping away, then a second. The iron groaned, and the fourth power line held for one second… Then snapped, the iron falling, and Marigold threw herself forward and away.

Sand and dust rose, the growls and banging echoing, but the structural wrought iron held the door against the onslaught.

He sighed in relief and bent his body, hands on his knees. That had been almost as stressing as the attack at the Vault.

“Thanks Norm-boy.” Marigold was sitting were she had fallen, massaging her shoulder with a grimace. The wrought iron had missed her by just a few inches. Damn it.

“For what? I did nothing.”

“Eeeh, you saw that sweet piece of iron. I only looked up because you did. Fuck, holding a door on a bloody pack of ferals is tiring.”

He smiled, breathing deeply and straightening. Something popped in his back.

“Then glad to help.”

She grinned back and got up, shaking and slapping the sand away from her clothes, and Norm approached, handing her knife back. It immediately disappeared under the cape.

---------

“C’mon.” Marigold said, turning to watch around them and reloading the magazine of her hunting rifle; it only had space for three bullets, and she deeply disliked how she didn’t had the time to reload after saving Norm from the feral.

Fuck. That had been terrifying. A little more delay, and she wouldn’t be in time. Something in her luck had held, at least. Marigold very much liked him alive.

Sure, she would need to find someone to take a look at her shoulder sooner rather than later, because that last stunt of shooting and holding the door with the same shoulder hadn’t been her greatest idea to date, but they were both alive.

“Here.” Norm extended a white handkerchief towards her and she blinked at it. “For the blood.”

“It’ll probably never get clean again.” She grimaced. It was the whitest thing she had seen in her life. It seemed a crime to use it for blood.

Norm rolled his eyes, got a hold of her braid and pulled. She squeaked, her body bending more of the shock than anything, almost smacking him with her rifle. She felt he carefully dab at the blood covering the right side of her face, wincing when the handkerchief touched the cut.

He frowned the whole time, mouth downturned. With the proximity, Marigold noticed that his facial hair was steadily growing; soon it would become a mustache-and-goatee thing, if he didn’t shave.

She hoped he didn’t. The image in her mind… It fitted him.

“I think you need stitches.”

“You’re offering?” She grinned, and Norm chuckled.

“I’ve never held a needle in my life.”

“Then let’s find us some glass or whatever where I can see myself and do it.”

Marigold went to straighten herself, but he was still holding her hair and it just made it pull at her roots – Dangerous, Marigold, dangerous, you’re in the open, girl.

“Keep holding the handkerchief to the wound.” He leveled his eyes at hers, still frowning – that was a pretty shade of brown.

She let out the most dramatic sigh, without dropping her grin.

“If it pleases you, Norm-boy.”

Marigold didn’t miss the bloom of color on his cheeks as she raised a hand to the handkerchief, brushing his hand in the process.

He let go of her hair, and she straightened to her full height as he pulled up the map in his Pip-Boy, clearing his throat.

“Which way, Norm-boy?”

“I think… This way.” He pointed, and she nodded, ignoring the slight catch in his voice.

“Then let’s go.”

---------

Norm kept his eyes all around, trying to find something reflexive as they walked, and overall avoiding looking at Marigold.

Half of him still didn’t believe he had actually pulled on her braid to bring her to his eye level. It was one of the most “spur of the moment” things he had ever done, probably just after his hacking of Betty’s terminal.

With that proximity, it was a miracle he had managed to focus only on the wound at her forehead, instead of on her mismatched eyes and lipstick covered lips.

At least she was using the handkerchief. “It’ll probably never get clean again”, for God’s sake. He was finally getting the “take care of Marigold for me”, the woman was terrible at taking care of herself – the way she was constantly massaging her shoulder, with slight grimaces, really sold on it.

Around them, everything was either broken or barred out, not a single glass in sight. Damn it, she needed to stitch that gash. If they didn’t found something for her to look on soon… He would stitch that. It would end up terribly looking, but better than all open for infection. Damn it.

Someone started whistling a jaunty tune, echoing around them. He snapped his head towards Marigold. She sighed, handed the handkerchief back to him, a fresh gush of blood dripping, and got hold of her hunting rifle – and winced.

And her shoulder. They needed something for it. Would a stimpak be enough? Or would they need something stronger, like med-X? God, he didn’t have any.

“Remain besides me, if I advance, behind me. Got it?”

“Yes.” She nodded and set her face as they kept going.

Someone turned in the crossing towards them, and the jaunty tune stopped.

A man using an old black fedora with a purple bow, a mishmash of clothes, supposed to be colorful but faded by age, flanked by three people, armed and armored and with full backpacks. In Norm’s peripherals, Marigold tightened her hold on her gun for a moment.

“Nip-Nip.” She forced a smile, and Norm wished he didn’t have his Pip-Boy out and about.

But at least he was finally putting a face to the name.

“Marigold! And… Small boy.” The man gave a big smile, the voice grating on Norm’s ears as he strode towards them. A rainbow scarf fluttered behind him, and a shoulder holster became visible for an instant as he gestured. “I had heard shots, but didn’t think it was you! This’s very far from the ranch, dollface!”

“Yeah, unexpected travel, Nip-Nip.” She gave a small, subtle step ahead, and Norm put one foot behind her. Something in the depths of his mind scoffed at the “dollface”, but he couldn’t say why.

“Oh, then it’s wonderful I found you here, dollface! I have a camp not too far, you can spend the night and take care of that!” He pointed to her forehead, a small grimace that didn’t affect the smile. “I may even have a stimpak for this, if you have something to trade!”

With the proximity, Norm noticed how clean, white and straight Nip-Nip’s teeth looked. It seemed… Wrong. Not a single person he had seen on the surface had teeth that… Good. There was always something to make it not-perfect.

Nip-Nip’s teeth were too Vault-like.

“While I appreciate the offer, we really need to keep going, Nip-Nip.”

Something rustled behind them, and Norm looked over his shoulder. Two more men, armed, gun tips lowered, but still in hands as they stared at him and Marigold. He poked her in the waist, and she looked too, openly frowning before looking back at Nip-Nip.

“Oh, dollface, that wasn’t an offer.” He was still smiling as one of his men approached and took her gun.

[scarletttries]

When Fallout Characters Have Their First Kiss...(Fallout Show Request)

Pairings: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Reader, Maximus x Reader, Norm x Reader

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who voted on my last poll! It was so fun seeing the votes come in so I'll definitely do that again! Please keep sending in Fallout requests, or for any of the other poll options :)

The Ghoul:

- Life in the wastelands has always been tough, and Cooper Howard's skin has had to grow even tougher, literally and metaphorically. His defenses have slowly steeled themselves over the last two hundred years, every awful encounter and exchange adding another barricade around what was once a warm and friendly heart. He thought that tough exterior was what had kept him alive that long. He also thought your purpose in his life must have been to prove that thought wrong.

- From that first surprising encounter the ghoul found himself drawn to your gaze, your touch, your presence. The way you gave him all three so unflinchingly. Your eyes could look into his without disgust or pity, your hand never snatching away as if the slightest graze could curse you to the same cruel fate. Cooper tried to tell himself the kindest thing he could do for you was to keep your partnership of survival a strictly platonic one, but as nights in each other's company passed one by one he could feel himself inching closer and closer to the warmth you seemed to radiate towards him.

- So used to being in control of every situation, it only shook him more to feel so uncertain of your feelings and if he should act on his own. He feared you being the first person in a century to show him kindness had turned his brain entirely to confetti, that his heart had no choice but to hope you'd take it from his cavernous chest. But your kindness was who you were to everyone, regardless of what they deserved. It didn't mean anything about how you felt about him. So why couldn't he stop himself having that most dangerous hope that maybe his heart wasn't the only one aching with every step you passed side by side, hands hanging just shy of touching, so easy to grab and finally embrace that deep seated truth that this was becoming something more.

- Cooper prided himself on taking the brunt of any danger the world seemed to throw your way, happy to be stitched back together by your soft and caring hands. That day though, he'd been thrown from your side a moment too long and watched helplessly as a half-crazed raider slashed at you with some clumsily wielded machete. You did your best to hold them off, but before Cooper could rise to his feet and grab his pistol you'd taken a hit to the arm, blood dripping from the tip of the blade and red spreading across the tattered fabric of your shirt. The ghoul had never felt such rage encompassing him, ripping through the gang in a violent frenzy that he would have worried would frighten you if he wasn't so focused on his need for overkill.

- He's uncharastically quiet as he practically carries you back to camp, ignoring your insistence that it's just a scratch until he's been able to examine you himself by the familiar glow of your campfire. He kneels beside you and scrutinises your arm, always slightly captivated by how soft your skin has remained in this unforgiving wasteland. Once he realises that you're right, and you'll be just fine, he can feel the swell of relief and terror hitting him all at once, the awful realisation that he could have lost you without ever getting to try and be as close to you as he craves. So he stills his gaze on your face, eyes flickering down to your lips as he inches closer, bracing himself for the rejection of your retreat. Instead you meet him halfway, your lips more warm and soft than any he could remember. In that sweet moment Cooper Howard feels more alive, more human, more safe than he ever did before the bombs hit. He feels like his body is warming from the inside out, a rush of blood bringing him back to the man he once was.

- He may not look any different as he reluctantly pulls away to let you breathe, but he is a changed man inside from your kiss. He realises that it's not his callous cynicism that's kept him alive this long, but his once soft heart, desperate to find hope again. Hope that he's now found, with you.

Maximus:

- It was hard for Maximus to put his finger on exactly what he felt when he was around you. He knew his entire being ached to be near you, and even when he was, it somehow wasn't close enough. He knew that when you smiled it made him smile, no matter what the context or motivation. He knew that the longer he went without seeing you, the dimmer the world seemed to be, like you were his lens to all the joy and colour around him and he was lost in grey oblivion about it. Maximus felt a lot of things around you that he'd never felt before, but he didn't really know what to call it. And he certainly didn't know what to do with all those feelings.

- The Brotherhood wasn't exactly the best place to learn about feelings growing up, everything complex and difficult hidden behind a layer of steel and obedience. Thankfully if you put enough young people together, eventually gossip will reign supreme. And so Max heard about the idea of a crush from two tables over as he sat eating alone in the canteen. He strained to pick up the conversation between two of the older guys who'd been out on more missions, setting down his cutlery and shuffling closer as he heard one of them talk about the way his stomach was in knots every time one of the new recruits looked at him. By the time they'd described the hot flush in their cheeks when the object of their affections smiled, and how they plagued their every thought, Max was sat with his mouth hanging agape and a renewed sense of purpose for the next time you came knocking on his door to sneak out to see the stars.

- In fact he couldn't wait for that moment to come and instead you found him breathless and fighting with the opening of your tent when you came back from your latest supply run. Upon spotting you he quickly unravelled himself from the ropes that had captured his limbs in his stealthy attempts to sneak a peek inside, and offered his hand to you in such a matter of fact motion that you had to stifle a laugh at the serious expression on his face. He leads you to the quiet corner of camp the two of you frequent, a tarp tucked against a loose fence panel that almost feels like a loveseat made just for you.

"Do you know what a crush is?" Max looked equal parts concerned and excited as he tried to read your puzzled expression.

"Yes Max, do you?" You knew there was something growing in the way you and Maximus had come to rely on each other, and pass every free moment tangled in each other's company, but you also knew he didn't have the best understanding when it came to the more human parts of his life and didn't want to risk misreading the delicate situation.

"I think so, but what should you do when you have a crush on someone?" He looked up at you starry-eyed and hopeless, desperately wishing that you two could be far away from here and working all of this out without the horrors of war hanging over you. You could see the straining heart behind his wide-eyed gaze, his hand still nervously clinging to yours, and decided to take pity on the young soldier.

"Do you want me to show you?" You ask softly, inching closer to his face almost feeling the heat rising in his cheeks as he frantically nodded. Lifting the hand he hadn't claimed, you let your palm rest against his cheek, feeling his body start to tremble in anticipation of what might come next. You leaned in, eyes focusing on his soft full lips until they met yours, pressing gently into him until his brain caught up and finally he started to reciprocate. Unsure and desperate, his free hand found the small of your back, pulling you closer and making sure you wouldn't stop this wonderful feeling in a hurry. As your lips moved slowly against his, he found a rhythm with you, drinking in your sweet warmth and praying this moment would never end, because somehow this strange and overwhelming feeling was still so much better than the years of emptiness that had stretched before it. Finally you pull away from him, searching his eyes for some insight into how he's feeling after such a pivotal first for him. You're met by the widest smile you've ever seen, and a simple question, "Can we do that again?"

Norm:

- Norman Maclean couldn't help the overwhelming cynicism that flooded through him every time it was the day of another vault-exchanging wedding day. He wanted to enjoy the delicious array of food, without thinking about how insufferable it must be to suddenly live with a perfect stranger. He wanted to enthusiastically navigate the dancefloor like everyone else, without thinking about how the new couple must be feeling so uncomfortable despite how happy they looked. He wanted to be able to soak in the joy of that magical first kiss without feeling this strange hollow ache inside himself that he tried to write off as an aversion to the falseness of this whole charade. But as he watched yet another 'happy couple' lock lips or move intertwined across the dancefloor, a small part of him knew that his distaste for the day was down to one much more simple feeling: Envy.

- There wasn't even anyone in the vault he wanted to share those kinds of embraces with, but that knowledge did little to assuage the aching loneliness that was nestled deep under layers of logic and intelligence that he let guide him instead of his heart. Or at least there had never been anyone in the vault that had made him feel that way by the time the council decided it was his turn to take part in their little tradition of arranged marriages. And in a most pleasant surprise to the slight young man, he felt a touch of optimism as his wedding day rolled around and he found himself face to face with you. And in a twist of fate that had Norm quite unable to believe his own luck, he was destined to wed someone that stirred those same desperate, longing feelings inside him with no sign of relief.

- The short-lived, perfunctory kiss with which the two of you had sealed your vows had been enough to set his heart ablaze, even with the eyes of the vault on him, even though it only lasted for a split-second, even though he wished the circumstances were entirely different. And as the two of you found common ground and shared secret jokes as the night went on, Norm only found himself falling deeper under your spell and praying when the night was through that you wouldn't resent following him back to a room that might finally feel like home.

- As the music from the old record-player swelled you threaded your fingers through his and pulled him over the sparsely populated dancefloor, most of the Vault 33 having long given up on seeing Norm dance and retreated to their own private quarters. As the lights grew dimmer on the projected skyline you seemed only more beautiful in Norm's eyes, his slender arms finding your waist and holding onto you like he feared he might drift away in an ocean current that threatened to pull him back to reality. He watched the soft smile spread effortlessly across your face, the ease with which you swayed to the music making him dance before he even realised he was moving. His mind replayed the briefest touch of your lips and suddenly he found himself unable to concentrate on anything but closing the distance between you, every nerve in his body sending electricity through him that finally promised to illuminate the dark, aching loneliness that had resided in him for as long as he could remember.

- He prayed your smile was genuine as he stepped ever closer, taking a visibly deep breath before finally taking the plunge and landing what he hoped would be the first real kiss of many in your marriage. His chest pressed firmly against yours as he tried to remove all space between the two of you, every ounce of hope and affection pouring out into a kiss that had your head spinning, pure dedication from your new husband clear in his every touch. It felt all consuming to finally be so connected to another person, a feeling Norm feared would never find him but now seemed a tangible part of his present and future. By the time he pulled away his lungs ached and he worried his eyes would well up if you kept staring at him with such intensity. He felt himself freeze on the spot as he awaited your verdict; on his kiss, on the marriage, on him. A moment that stretched out an eternity passed before finally he watched a smile grace your lips, feeling your hand find his again as you said softly in his ear, an unfamiliar gleam in your eye,

"Which of these rooms is ours, husband?"

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Omggg I’m so glad someone else agrees with my Norm x dommy mommy thoughts 😭

Sorry, I read this as "please post NSFW Norm MacLean headcanons". That's what it says, right?

Norm MacLean NSFW Headcanons

- We've seen that "casual sex as a way to combat boredom" is obviously on the table for people in Vault 33. Norm might not be the most popular guy in the vault, but hey, surely for every sexually active person in there, there's only so many available dicks you're not directly related to, so I imagine he's fairly experienced and confident in himself in terms of sex. He just sucks at getting over the "seduction" hurdle because he's so used to people rejecting him/not taking him seriously/thinking he's weird.

- Has an average-sized penis, but it looks pretty impressive on him because he's a below-average sized man in most other places. Doesn't hurt him in the confidence department.

- I'd describe him as a switch; how dominant or submissive he'd be would be would depend on his partner. But I think if he found himself someone that he really trusted and was comfortable with, he'd lean sub. I think he'd like to have someone to take care of him like that, to want him enough to want that too.

- Loves being marked up; hickies, scratch marks, little love bruises. He's crazy for them all. All the better if they're visible to others.

- This man is such a sucker for having his hair pulled. Like, the kind of pulling where you thread your fingers in and tug at it from the roots. Pull his hair to hold him on your breast, hold his head in place while he eats you out, tug at it to make him look at you while you fuck him. It drives him wild.

- Three words: face sitting fetish. He wants your entire weight on his face and chest, and if it isn't, he's yanking on you until it is. He knows how to put that nose to use!

- Obviously loves being ridden, but I think he'd also really enjoy missionary...especially if his partner is a lot bigger/taller than him.

[m-musings]

Headcanons: Fallout Men + Halloween Fun

A/n: i've been waiting for october just so i can write a bunch of these lmao

Word Count:454 Warnings/ Other Notes: written with a fem!reader in mind, nothing is canon compliant here

Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard:

Originally, when you brought up the idea of a couples costume to Cooper, he wanted no part of it.

But eventually, after he thought it through for a while and after you kept begging him with puppy dog eyes, He begrudgingly agreed.

After weeks of changing your minds, planning and finally making the costumes, the day was here.

As kids of all ages began to knock on your door, they were greeted with the sight of Cooper dressed up as the Phantom of the Opera.

As he gave them a menacing grin, they all backed away in fear before you- Dressed as Christine Daae- came rushing up with a bowl of candy.

The kids all took some candy before dashing away as fast as the could. You apologized and slapped Cooper's shoulder as he let out an amused chuckle.

"Cooper Howard, you stop that!"

"What?! It's Halloween, darlin', it's s'posed to be scary!"

Knight Maximus:

A few days ago, You and Maximus had decided that he needed a break from the Brotherhood base camp, so you figured Halloween was a perfect excuse to sneak away for a night.

You didn't have much in the way of costumes, but you managed to scrounge up materials to make yourselves look like Orpheus and Eurydice.

You spent the majority of the night trick-or-treating and socializing around a small nearby town before ending up at a party being thrown in the local bar.

After the good times are over, you take a long walk back to base, just so you can spend a bit more time together.

"Thanks for coming out here with me. I really needed this..." Max says, gently grasping your hand with a sweet smile.

"It was my pleasure! I always have fun with you." You reply, squeezing his palm in thanks.

Norm Maclean:

When Halloween arrives in the vault, it's one of the few things Norm willingly participates in.

He had your outfits planned since last year so as soon as the daylight comes, he's decorating your living quarters as much as possible.

And once that's finished and Norm declares it perfect, the two of you get dressed up as Sasha Nein and Milla Vodello just before the sound of children knocking comes from your front door.

After greeting all the parents, the two of you turn to the dressed up kids who begin bouncing on their heels as they see the plastic bowl in your hands.

"Hey, ya little menaces! You ready for some candy?!" You say, giving the kids a polite grin.

"Emphasis on the some, you guys. Gotta save a bit for me and my girl!" Norm smirks as he steals a piece of chocolate from the bowl and places an arm around your hip.