#something something someone lets howard free | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cubeshapedlemon · 6 months ago

Text

Atomic Baby

You, a wastelander are captured by an unfortunate group of men, your knight in dusty leather does more for you than you originally thought he would.

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Cooper Howard/ The Ghoul x f!reader

6.2k words

cw & tags: general smut, piv, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), cannon typical violence, unwanted (implied) sexual advances(not by cooper), brief alcohol use, use of pet names, heavy flirting, cannon typical drug use

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authors note: this is my first fallout fic! im hoping to write more! (check out my pinned post for more info) and my first nsfw one so i hope you enjoy. Tbh there are some moments where he is slightly ooc, just kinder than in cannon but whatever. There is a large possibility that this could become a multi-chapter at some point but it can 100% be read free standing. please reblog if you wish but do not repost or translate anywhere without my permission. anyway thank you! and let me know if you notice any mistakes or something i missed in the tags!

Waking up to three weaselly looking men looming over you with a rather sharp looking hatchet, not the best thing ever. Your little camp seeming to be ransacked already, you glare up. The one who seems to be the leader of their little group ties a rough length of rope to your wrists as the other two rifle through your bag. Hauling you up they force you to start waking.

The scorching hot sun beams down on your shoulders as you walk. The irradiated heat of the wasteland is never forgiving, especially not recently; even at night it’s been like sleeping in an oven.

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Walking, endless walking. It has already been about an hour or so since your capture. The winds picking up, trapping your lungs with dusty red soil. Phlegmy coughs and chortles follow behind you. At least they aren't at your side anymore, for the first half hour or so they would take turns shoulder checking you… or spitting at you… or tripping you… really anything those dirty bastards could think of. At this point their boredom with you is really coming to your advantage.

The greasy men are probably hoping to sell you or your organs for a few caps. Either one, not fantastic. Soil kicks up around you, forceful wind driving you to trudge forward with more effort. Glancing down at your wrists you start to feel some relief, the knot binding your wrists getting looser by the second. The dumb bastards clearly were no eagle scouts, their poor attempt at a knot slowly unfurling as you walk.

Looking forward again you have some hope. A dinghy looking town ahead of you. Walking closer and closer you see something in the town? Someone? Oh thank the lord someone. Maybe there is hope for you after all, I mean just weighing the odds, what are the chances that this random person is also chomping at the bit for some extra caps? Thinking about it now, they probably are. Well, a small chance is better than no chance.

Unraveling the last of the rope you propel yourself forward, running desperately. Your life -quite literally- depends on it. Your captors quickly realize and start chasing after you, you race forward, sights pinned on the figure in front of you.

Stopping yourself just quickly enough, you slam into the figure, making them stumble back slightly. “Now what in the-” the accented baritone voice of the person says. Grasping onto the lapels of his jacket you stare up desperately begging,

“Please help me sir, these guys captured me. I think they're going to sell me or something!”

The man looks up for a moment, staring at the men just a few seconds away before looking back down at you, “What's in it for me doll?” he says, smirking down.

“Just please!” a short chuckle erupts from his chest, placing a hand on your waist he pushes you behind him.

“I gotcha, just stay behind me.” Your captors slow to a stop, attempting to catch their breath; one of the goons is the first to attempt speech through all the heavy breathing.

“Give her back, we found ‘er first.” He says in a whiny tone, clearly not the brightest bulb.

“Now why would I want to do that?”

“Well… uh” he struggles to find the words, dumbly looking to his superior.

“Well what? Cat got yer’ tongue?”

The ring leader is the next to speak, lips parting in a sneer, revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth. “Finders keepers ghoul. It's rare you see a pretty little thing like her these days… thought we'd sell ‘er. Caps are hard to come by. You understand.”

“Well, I can't deny she is quite the looker,” the ghoul says, looking to his side over at you, eyes grazing over your face before looking up, staring holes through the head of the man in front. “But in terms of the ‘finders keepers’ I'm going to have to dispute that fellas’. You see… i'm not really in the business of sharin’ and she seems to have found me,'' he laughs, hand going to his holster, “so i'm keepin’.”

Between the effort of running and the ghoul's comment your face is quite warm. The tension between him and the men rises every millisecond. Praying that the ghoul is a reliable shot seems to be your only hope as the group gets more irritated by the second. The leader goes to speak again, clearly not taking the hand-on-the-holster hint from the ghoul.

“I don't think so-” he says, drawing his pistol. The ghoul, already prepared, fires off a shot, beating him to his own, a bullet landing in the man’s shoulder. The leader stumbles, being taken to one knee. The goons caught by surprise go to draw their own guns, before another warning shot fires off, grazing the cheek of one.

Taking the hint, they drop their guns, hands held shakily as they lower to themselves to kneel on the ground. Clearly not wanting to take any chances. The ghoul walks over to the leader, the barrel of his gun pressed into the man's chin, forcing him to look up. The ghoul grins sarcastically.

“Well I know so. Now, why don't you pick your dusty ass up and get you, and your little…” He looks back at the two other men, “fanclub, outta’ here while I take care of that fine piece of ass you so helpfully lead into my arms.” He holsters his gun again, reaching into his pocket for a moment, “Some caps for your troubles.” he says, dropping a few caps on the ground before turning around and walking back to you.

“I- thank you.” you say dumbly, looking up at the ghoul.

“Don't thank me sweetheart,” he says, scanning your body for injuries. His eyes lock on a laceration on your arm before looking back at you. “Let's get you stitched up now,” he says with a tone you can't quite place. You lift your arm to look at the wound for a moment, must've gotten it at some point during the walk.

Looking back up, the ghoul has already walked past you, most likely expecting you to follow as he heads towards a building a few meters away. Quickly you move to follow him, eager to get away from your former captors.

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You watch awkwardly as he rummages for a needle and thread, finally finding some, he threads the needle, Sitting down on the only chair available. He looks up expectantly with a barely-there smirk.

“Well, come take your seat doll,” he says, patting his thigh. “That there won't stitch itself,” he says nodding to your arm. A heat once again rises to your face as you shuffle over, sitting down on his knee, the wound facing him as your legs are thrown across his lap. You attempt to focus on the wall ahead of you, ignoring the fact that this is the only welcome touch you've had in a while.

Soon you have something else to focus on as the most definitely not sterile needle pierces your skin. You look over your shoulder at the man, his hat tipped back lazily as he pinches the needle through his thumb and forefinger. A whip stitch quickly binding the laceration. He ties a knot before snapping the extra thread off with a nip of his teeth.

He grasps you at the waist and under your knees, standing, while setting your feet on the ground. “I believe that's all. ‘Should be able to gather enough things here to get you on your way,” he says, walking to the door.

“Wait! Could I come with you? I don't have much, but I could help you in some way... Carry supplies, cook, something,” you say, not ready to be alone quite yet. He gives an almost genuine smile, facing you again.

“Well I don't find myself in need of a pack mule. I'll be on my way ma'am.” he replies, tipping his hat before walking out, seeming to already have his next location in mind. He walks confidently, out of the town into the infinite desert ahead.

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After gathering a decent amount of supplies in the surrounding buildings you stand in the middle of town absolutely stumped. There is nothing for you in this abandoned town you find yourself in and it's not like you've had the best track record with setting up your own camp recently.

Wandering around a little more you find yourself where you met your knight in dusty leather. The other men now long gone, you stoop down and collect the things they left. Lucky for you they pretty much dropped everything they had, undoubtedly wanting to get away from the ghoul as quickly as possible.

Picking through their supplies you find that they left their guns and a decent amount of ammo, as you attach the holster to your belt you notice some strange little bottles; about four of them. Tiny cylindrical vials filled with a clear yellow-green liquid. Well, chems are chems you think to yourself, stuffing them inside a first aid kit you found inside one of the buildings.

After nosing around the supplies a bit more you decide you don't want anything else. What to do now…

Well, making your own camp is out of the question for now. You could follow the ghoul, he seems to be a decent survivalist, and the safest person you've interacted with in months. You could stay just behind him, he won't even notice. Just until he passes a more substantial settlement. Or you decide on somewhere else to go.

Deciding on that as a decent course of action, you follow the path marked by his footsteps. The sun is starting to get lower in the sky at this point, it's important to start moving before dusk falls.

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You have been following the ghoul's path for about two days now, trailing behind him. Being just close enough to where you can see when he settles down for the night, taking it as a sign to wind down as well.

As day two starts to end you see him in the distance, he starts to set up his camp for the night so you do too. Two days completely filled with travel can really take a lot out of a person, you soon welcome the sleep that takes you.

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“Well, hello there little lady.” you hear a familiar voice say, spooking you awake. Your eyes open to be greeted by the face of your savior from a few days ago. He's standing over you, eyes boring into yours. “Now what do you think you're doin’. Following me around these past few days, thinkin’ I wouldn't notice.”

“I- I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I just didn't know where to go… and I figured following behind you would be a safe bet. Just until we passed another settlement! That's all I swear!” You rush to speak, trying to rationalize your thinking to him.

“Is that so? Well I hate to break it to ya’ darlin’ but the next town is about a 3 day walk away,” he informs, standing back to his full height before stepping away. You groan, rubbing your face forcefully in frustration. What the hell are you supposed to do now? Sitting up, you lazily start to collect your things.

Taking your sweet time, you scoot towards where you had placed your pack for the night. Leisurely taking a sip of water and a bite of some jerky you snagged in town. Now you really had to think about what you were going to do. You doubt he would let you continue following him, and clearly he had some 6th sense for this type of thing so secretly doing it isn't in the cards.

“Get yer’ ass up! We're burnin’ daylight out here.” the ghoul yells. Confused, you whip your head around to look at him. He walks towards you.

“What?” you say stupidly.

“We need to get a move on,” he states, squatting down to meet your eye level. “If we move at your glacial pace we'll never get there.” he remarks sarcastically. Standing once again he goes to collect the last of his things, yelling to you again, “Now! and I ain't carryin’ any of your shit so don't even think about bitchin’ about it.”

With a huff, you stand dusting yourself off before grabbing your pack and trailing behind the ghoul.

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The first day of travel was mostly uneventful, walking, walking, and even more… walking. Though you quickly learn that he doesn't talk much. And he walks quite fast. While you were certainly an effective and efficient walker, you were still left in the dust.

One of his large strides was equivalent to about one and a half of yours. Walking behind someone for miles is not exactly the most engaging activity, but it gave you plenty of time to think. And oh boy did your mind have some things to say.

As you walk your mind starts to wander. ‘my view of him from behind wasn't all that bad,’ you think to yourself. ‘He walks with a confidence that would make anyone quake in their boots, including me. Just possibly in a different way.’

By the end of the day you were spent. Sitting down by the fire, the sun finally setting, eating whatever scraps had been left over in your bag. Not exactly the most exciting dinner in the world, but in this day and age boring and uneventful is a blessing.

It's l quite awkward, sitting across from him. He has such an intense gaze. The exquisite hazel of his eyes is something so uncommon, especially for a ghoul. He seems to be doing well for himself, as close as one can be in the wasteland that is. But with that it makes the feeling ever stronger.

The way he bores his eyes into you makes you feel like he can hear everything you have been thinking all day.

Looking at you like you're something to eat.

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The second day seems to be turning into much of the same. Infinitely more walking ahead of you. Though there is something different in the air today, something new that you can't quite place.

As you look past him you hope you can see anything different, anything new. At this point you would celebrate for a tumbleweed. Though there is still much to think about.

You come to realize how little you truly know about your traveling partner. I mean, you met him not even a week ago and now you've committed to a good bit more time with him and you don't even know his name. He hasn't spoken much to you since your journey started, or really at all that you can remember.

What a shame. His voice is something that continues to echo through you. His deep baritone with that saccharine accent. While he doesn't talk much, it really is a treat when he does. When it comes to the short conversations he has with you, you can't help but get giddy at the pet names he calls you.

Now that you think about it, he doesn't know your name either. Quickening your steps you catch up to walk next to him. Looking up you see him eye you suspiciously. Suddenly feeling a bit insecure you look back down. Who are you to think that he would want to speak with you? Well, what the hell, why not?

“Hey!” you say, attempting to sound casual, failing horribly. Sparing you some embarrassment, he doesn't seem to react at all, eyes directed forward. “I was just wondering, it's probably stupid, you don't have to answer obviously. But uh, you know what? Never mind. Sorry.”

Wow, really smooth. Admitting defeat you slow your pace back to your normal one, starting to fall behind him once again; that is, until a leather-clad hand finds itself on your hip. Rushing you to once again, meet his steps.

“Just spit it out babydoll, if we're gonna’ be stuck together, I suppose you can get a question or two,” he conceded. His hand pulls back to his side, a bit leisurely crossing the small of your back. Not that you were going to complain, a welcome shiver running through you.

“Well, I was going to ask your name.” That seems to have gotten his attention, his head turning so he can fully look at you now. His eyes roving over your face as if looking for a lie.

“My name? That's what you want to know?”

“I mean… yeah? I just thought if we were traveling together I should know what to call you,” you explain, once again feeling insecure. He turns his head forward once again, an unreadable expression taking over his face.

“Is that so?” Understanding this to be rhetorical, you stay silent, deciding instead to focus on walking.

Quite soon though, you find yourself stopping. While the sun is getting lower in the sky, normally you would have another hour or so until you would start to settle down. Confused, you turn to ask; He beats you to it.

“There's some decent huntin’ and some clean water 'round here. Stay and set up house.” Wordlessly you nod, placing your bag on the ground. You walk a few meters away, collecting some sticks for a fire as you hear his heavy footfalls go in the opposite direction.

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Just as the sun starts to set, and you finally get a decent fire going you see your partner walking towards you. Some sort of meat that he already seems to have butchered in his hand.

“Darlin’ would you cook this up,” He says, not really waiting for an answer, handing you the game. “I have got to get off my feet.” He goes and settles down, resting his back against a large rock in the general vicinity of the fire. Rummaging through his bag he grabs out a small vial, identical to the ones you snagged days previously. He attaches it to what looks to be a repurposed Jet inhaler, taking a hit.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Quit your starin’,” he hollers. Taking the hint, you avert your gaze and spear the meat onto an extra stick.

The meat roasts somewhat unevenly but who can complain at this point? While doing the mindless task you can't help but look up at him. Still leaning up against the rock his head is back now, dusty cowboy hat tipped over his eyes. He really is quite handsome. Ghoul's don't exactly get the best rap when it comes to anything, especially looks. You decide that people would change their minds if they met him.

Looking down again towards your work you decide it looks done enough. Separating just over half of it you place it onto a handkerchief, walking it over to him, placing it on his lap. He goes to move his hat back, giving you a nod before you go back to your spot across from him, the heat of his gaze following you.

Sitting down you prepare for another silent dinner. Digging into your food, you hear him clear his throat, causing you to look up. “Cooper,” he says, “Cooper Howard.” You smile, a real genuine smile, giving him your name as well. A small grin finds its way to his face. So subtle you almost missed it. There was truly something in the air today.

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Waking up the following day you feel like shit. Clean water has been pretty sparse causing your head to pound like a drum. Sure there was some clean water near here but even the idea of standing up sounded unappealing. Deciding it’s best to get it over with sooner rather than later you sit up.

You start to dig through your pack trying to find your canteen with no success. Confused, you look around, still no canteen. “Cooper?” you yell, not seeing him in the immediate vicinity either.

“What is it, doll?” He yells back, coming into your field of view, strutting as always.

“Oh thank the gods. For a second I thought you left me behind,” you sigh with relief.

“Now why would I do that?” A sarcastic tone infesting his speech. Rolling your eyes, you speak again.

“Have you seen my canteen anywhere? I can't find it. Thought I'd refill it with the clean water you were talking about last night,” you add, standing up and dusting yourself off. Cooper responds by reaching into the pocket inside his jacket, pulling out your canteen and shaking it. The sound of fresh water splashing inside.

Unscrewing the cap he walks up to you, so close you two are almost chest to chest. “Drink up,” he says, lifting it, waiting, like he expected something. And who are you to deny his expectations? Lifting your gaze from the container to the depths of his eyes you open your mouth obediently. He rewards you with a slight smirk, tipping the opening towards your lips.

Despite the increasing tension between you, you are genuinely thirsty. You gulp down the water desperately between heaving breaths. Seeing that you had gotten enough, he screws the cap back on, wiping away a leftover drop on your lip with his thumb.

“Well ain't you just a prize,” he remarks, so quietly you think he didn't mean for you to hear it. With an almost imperceptible smile on his face he steps away, “ You better start gettin’ a move on little lady. If we walk fast enough we can get to town by supper.” You watch for a second as he grabs his bag, throwing it over his shoulder.

Shaking the leftover tension you do the same, the idea of sleeping in a real bed tonight pushing you forward.

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Unfortunately, the heat truly has been overwhelming today. Notably, Cooper has slowed down just enough to match your pace today. Maybe you're truly starting to crack that hard outer shell he keeps himself in.

After about an hour of you fanning yourself, tying your hair up, then taking it down and putting it up in a different way you give up. Deciding that you would rather just be scorched than fiddle with your clothes or hair every fifteen seconds.

Soon after you come to this decision, Cooper silently lifts his hat off of himself, placing it on your head. The slight shade of the brim gives you some relief from the unending heat. Gratefully, you look up at him, he doesn't seem to think his action is anything of interest. His eyes still facing forward, face still pulled into a permanent scowl.

You look back down, “Thank you,” you say absentmindedly.

“Don't mention it,” he replies, his tone flat. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you for the rest of your travels. Every once and a while you would sneak an admiring glance or two. A few times you could swear you felt his gaze on you, but of course you have no proof of that.

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After several hours of travel you and Cooper find yourself in a rather nice little town. Nice for a town in the wasteland, that is, not that you can complain. Looking around you see several amenities, a decent looking saloon, a trading post, and a shabby motel being the ones that catch your eye.

You suspect that Cooper is more relieved than he is letting on, taking a deep breath, he allows himself a moment to take it in. “Come on now, let's get a room,” he says, stealing his hat off of you, placing it on his head once again. Both of you eager, you head to the desk of the motel.

Not caring to speak to anyone, as you two walk in Cooper silently drops a handful of caps onto the desk, grabbing a random key (and its spare) from the wall with the other hand as he does. You give a respectful nod to the person behind the desk before swiftly following him.

After passing a few rooms, your traveling partner looks down, matching the number on the key to the one on the door. Unlocking it, you are greeted by a could-be-better room. But who has time to complain? It's a place to rest your head and keep out of the elements.

“While all this is nice and all, I need a drink,” Cooper declares, setting down his bag and grabbing some caps out of one of the pouches.

“Ok, I think I'm going to get myself cleaned up here first, I'll meet you in a few.” making a sound of acknowledgement, Cooper leaves, tossing you the extra key, the sound of the lock clicking into place as the door closes.

Sure there wasn't anything fancy like running water here but they were kind enough to have a bottle of talc and a rag in the bathroom. Gratefully, you clean yourself up as much as you can before heading to the saloon.

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Walking in, you scan the room. It's packed with all kinds of people, all jabbering on with their own group, all sipping their alcohol of dubious origin, not that you can complain, you're about to do the same thing. Looking around again, closer this time. Looking for a specific ghoul. There he is.

He sat himself at a small booth, a round table in front of him. An empty glass -presumably his own- set atop. His legs are spread lazily, the brim of his hat creating a shadow over his eyes. It truly is despicable how beautiful he is.

Snapping yourself out of what is probably a desperate looking stare, you head over to the bar. You dig out enough caps from your pockets for two of whatever cheap whiskey you could get your hands on. “Two of whatever's cheapest,” you say leaning over the bartop, dropping enough caps for both, plus tip, on the counter. Nodding, the barkeep collects two glasses, pouring with a rather heavy hand, before handing them to you and snatching the caps.

You look over to where Cooper is once more; he's looking at you now, an intense indescribable air around him. You fight to not smirk at the fact that you caught him staring, you grab the drinks and head over to his table, challenging him with your continued eye contact. “Now where have you been all my life?” you hear an unfamiliar whiny voice say. Instantly your mood is ruined, with a scowl you turn towards the voice. It belongs to a plain looking man, a much too confident smirk on his face.

“As far away from you as I could manage,” you quip, rolling your eyes and making your way to your table. Hearing him get up from his chair, following in your direction you turn to face him again. “I'm here with someone don't even try,” you warn, though of course he doesn't take the message.

“Well I don't see him ‘round here,”

“You sure you don't?” You hear that familiar accented voice say behind you while wrapping his arm around your waist. Cooper stares down the man in front of you.

“A ghoul?” the man says, looking up towards him briefly before continuing his eye contact with you. “I can fuck you better than a goddamn ghoul I'll promise you that. You make that switch I'll show you a good time,” the man claims, stalking towards you with a dangerous leer on his face.

“Oh, I guarantee you can't,” Cooper gloats, flashing the gun at his side. Without a second thought he grasps your jaw firmly, turning your head to face him and he locks his lips with yours. Taken aback, it takes you a moment to kiss him back, but he quickly deepens the kiss. He runs his tongue on the seam of your lips. You quickly obey, opening your mouth to the welcome intrusion. With how intense the kiss became you couldn't help but let out a whimper, which he rewards with a firm squeeze of your waist.

You separate after what seems like an eternity, Cooper looking at the man in front of you. “Betcha’ believe it now don't ya'?” he smirks, leading you back to the booth. He grabs both of your drinks, setting them down on the table before sitting down. Feeling some confidence after what just transpired, you sit down on his lap, one of his legs settled between yours. Teasing a bit, you shift your hips against his a few times as if settling in.

“You keep doin’ that you're gonna get yourself in trouble,” he warns, grabbing and handing you your drink before shooting back his own. With a smile you lean back, resting against him.

“I'm ok with trouble,” you tease, taking a sip of your drink. Making a sound of contentment, Cooper runs his hand up your thigh, squeezing as his hand trails close to where you truly need him. You let out an unintentional whine at this, attempting to cover it up with a hefty gulp of your drink.

“Are you know? Well trouble is what I got darlin’,” he claims, bouncing his leg that you are perched on. His thigh rubbing deliciously on you. “Just say the word.” Finding all the sensations to be far too much you give in to his teasing. Rocking your hips back on him again you bring your lips to his neck, kissing up slowly, ending on his jaw.

“Please.”

Releasing a satisfied groan he gives you a relatively chaste kiss compared to earlier, he adjusts you and sets your feet on the ground, pulling you and him up to stand. “Lead the way pretty girl,” he purrs, delivering a swift smack to your ass as you scramble to get to your room.

☆ ☆ ☆

As soon as the door is closed and locked behind you two, you are forced against a wall. Clearly attempting to keep some sort of control over himself Cooper takes a deep breath. “Darlin’ I'm serious, you ain't gettin’ rid of me after this. You sure you want this? just say so and I’ll leave.” The pathetically desperate look in his eyes makes you even more eager to give him your answer

“Please Coop, I need you.”

Not needing any further confirmation, he once again locks his lips with yours. Opening your mouth right away, the kiss deepens quickly, both of you desperate to get a taste of each other. Cooper rips off his leather gloves, needing to feel you on him directly. That still not being enough, he paws at your top roughly, pushing it up. Parting for a moment he pulls it over your head, unclasping and removing your bra just after.

“Well ain't you the prettiest little thing,” he breathes, running his hands up your body to cup your tits. Stooping down, he sucks a dark bruise into the side of one, looking satisfied with himself as he does so.

“Coop,” you whine, starving for more. He falls completely to his knees now, delicately taking off your boots, eye contact steady.

He next moves to unbutton your jeans. He moves frustratingly slow, clearly enjoying your huffs of annoyance. Pulling off your pants and underwear in one, he grabs your hips harshly, pushing them into the wall. Without delay, he places your thighs over his shoulders, diving into your core like it's his last meal. He runs his tongue from your entrance to your clit, sucking it into his mouth harshly before releasing. Desperate for more, he plunges his tongue inside you once again.

The sudden intrusion forces a deep groan out of you. In need of a perch, you wrap your hand harshly around the back of his neck, knocking his hat off in the process. “You are just about the sweetest thing I've ever tasted,” he coos, placing a messy kiss on your inner thigh.

“Cooper, please. I need you,” you beg, desiring everything he can give you.

“Well I can't say no to that, can I?” he jokes, wrapping your legs around him as he stands. Holding you by your waist he makes his way to the bed. He swiftly tosses you atop, you bounce slightly, watching as he stalks towards you with an indescribable hunger. The heat of his stare intense, you desperately clench around nothing.

Kneeling on the bed now, Cooper runs his fingers through your folds, your wetness coating them. Slowly, he works a single finger inside of you, thrusting it in and out. “Fuck- Coop,” you moan, blinded by pleasure. He works another finger in, continuing the same pace, curling his fingers to hit that perfect spot every time. Working you open, preparing you for what was next.

“Good girl, so desperate for me, just a bitch in heat.” Lacking the proper brain function to respond, you whimper at his comment. Your eyes rolling back in pleasure. “Oh you like that don't you? You like being my needy little thing. The little slut I get to use.” his pace increases, fingers rubbing immaculately inside of you. The low buzz at the bottom of your stomach beginning to bloom, your hips unconsciously bucking down to meet his thrusts.

“Please, please please,” you beg, not quite knowing what you're begging for.

“I gotcha’ doll. Let go,” he assures, moving his thumb to rub quick circles on your clit. As if commanded, you let go right away. The pressure inside of you bursting with a moan, hips bucking wildly out of your control. Clenching desperately around his fingers. “That's it… that's my girl.” Your body comes down after a few seconds more, thighs twitching with the residual energy. Cooper delicately removes his fingers from you, a small whimper of overstimulation coming from you.

Placing them in his mouth, he laps up any of you he can get. “Sweet as honey, you are,” he teases. Letting out a breathy laugh at his comment, you fist your hand on his collar, pulling him in. The kiss is passionate, tasting yourself on him only spurs you on further. Your other hand trails down his body, finding the tent in his pants you give a teasing rub. His hips stutter forward briefly, making you smile into the kiss.

Your nimble fingers undo the button on his pants, the zipper following. Breaking the kiss you look up at him, silently asking for permission. Giving you a short nod, Cooper further pushes himself into you, bordering on grinding at this point. With a grin you take him out of his pants. You give a few experimental tugs, feeling the weight of him in your palm. His hips stutter again, “You better quit your teasin’ ‘fore I make you.” As enticing as that sounds, you listen. You rub him against you a few times before lining him up with your entrance.

Slowly, he starts to push in, your heat inviting him in. “F-fuck,” he whimpers, pausing for a moment. “I'm sorry baby, you just feel so good.” Pushing in farther, he bottoms out. He grinds into you, desperate to get as deep as he can.

“Please, Coop, please move,” you whimper out.

“You are so pretty when you beg. You will be the death of me darlin’,” he says, pulling out about halfway before slamming back in. He quickly sets a brutal pace, hips slamming into you quickly and harshly. The low buzz in your stomach quickly returns, every ridge of him rubbing deliciously inside of you. It's not long before you become a puddle of whines and moans, the low buzz bursting once more, stars exploding behind your vision.

His pace does not falter, his hips still moving at the same brutal pace. In fact, he finds this the perfect opportunity to start rubbing quick circles on your clit. Anything he can do to get you to go, needy to see it again.

“Come on now, you can do it one more time for me can't you?” not believing it can happen so soon again, you shake your head, pathetic whines falling from your lips. “Yes you can, come on. I'll follow right behind. One more for me, pretty girl,” he assures, his tone starting to sound as whiny as yours. The next one comes up faster than the others, beginning already so close to the precipice.

“Fuck, Coop im going to-”

“I know sweetheart, let go, come for me.” Your body takes that command wholeheartedly, you lock your legs around his hips, forcing him deeper as you fall over your precipice, his pace truly faltering, thrusts now short and sloppy. “Fuck, darlin’ im gonna’,” he attempts to say.

“I know,” you say between whimpers of his name. Before long he joins you in bliss, filling you to the brim.

He rests his head on your shoulder briefly, pulling out after a moment and righting himself in his clothes. Rolling over onto the bed moments after. Cooper tiredly pulls you against him, not a care in the world at the moment. To be honest you didn't either. The Rad-Away would just have to wait.

#cooper howard #fallout #fallout tv series #cooper howard x reader #fallout fanfic #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x f!reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul fanfic #cooper howard smut

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acapelladitty · 6 months ago

Text

sweeter than honey

Pairing: Cooper Howard/Fem!Reader

Summary: "You'd let me," Cooper pauses to allow the truth of the question to hold in the air, "rip my teeth into you and take a bite of you for myself? No knife. No healing. Just teeth." Groaning at the very thought as you consider the other wicked things those teeth are capable of, your thighs widen in open invitation. "Yes."

(warnings for: oral sex, cannibalism, biting, blood, sub space painkink, cum marking, masochism, teasing)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Slick with sweat, your breath comes in shallow pants as every inhale breathes fresh life into your burning lungs while you drift in the pleasurable haze of your post-orgasm comedown. The sloppy mess which steadily drips free of your cunt to the leather duster below is quick to stain the fabric as Cooper's electric eyes gaze up at you from the flat position between your thighs where he'd long since dropped his body.

"Nothing like it, darlin'. Sweet as honey and enough to make a man want more."

His mouth and chin glistening with your release and his own spit, for someone whose own mess streaked the dusted ground where his groin has rubbed itself into a frenzy, Cooper didn't seem quite finished with you as he licks a lazy stripe across your slit - the simple move making your legs jerk as his tongue grazes your engorged and overly sensitive clit.

Brain fuzzy, you can only squeak out a casual acknowledgement as you lazily egg him on with a dopey grin.

"Take more if you want."

Cooper scoffed.

"Last time, your foot kicked seven shades of hell outta my jaw cause it was too much for you, sweetie. I ain't falling for that shit again."

"Not like that." You smirk, recalling the fantastic yowl which fled him as your overstimulated body acted of its own accord and cold-clocked his wicked mouth. "I mean take what you want."

"You know what I want." Low voice rumbling from his throat like an approaching storm, Cooper presses his lips to your thigh in a chapped kiss before continuing. "But some things just ain't likely, are they?"

"I'd let you do it."

"You would, huh?"

"I mean, if you wanted-"

"You'd let me," Cooper pauses to allow the truth of the question to hold in the air, "rip my teeth into you and take a bite of you for myself? No knife. No healing. Just teeth."

Groaning at the very thought as you consider the other wicked things those teeth are capable of, your thighs widen in open invitation.

"Yes."

Something savage, almost animalistic twists at his features as he takes the encouragement for what it is, his face rubbing against your thigh as he nestles himself against the flesh. His lips ghost across the skin of your inner thigh with reverence; licking the skin there with a textured tongue as he steals a taste of what's soon to be his.

"You sure, darlin?" It's an ask, more like a plea, as he tries to hold back the excitement in his tone - his blazing eyes flashing up at you for one final acknowledgement, a final chance to back out and forget the offer.

"Do it, Coop. Take what no one else ever will."

Teeth blunt and not designed for a clean tear, it hurts like fuck when he sinks them deep into the flesh of your thigh; the heat of the pain burning like hellfire and forcing your spine to go ramrod straight as you beat your fists against the floor and writhe in place against it.

"Fuck! Fuck- ow! Fucking hell, Coop!" You whine out, the words only able to break free of your gritted teeth as the white-hot pain levels out into a terrible ache which makes your limbs tremble and tears slip free of your eyes.

Despite it all, there's a heat in the actions - a thrill of pain and pleasure rolling across your spine as you glance down through watery eyes to see him swallowing down the small part of you he had ripped free.

Part of him now.

It was enough to make you light-headed. Well, that and the blood loss, as the fresh wound bleeds freely and droplets trickle across the skin of your legs as they follow the curve of your thighs to drip to the duster.

His mouth licking at the wound, almost like a cat as he catches the blood he can - his hands slips up to cup at your cunt and his fingers are quick to spread your lips as he sinks past the mess he left to circle his calloused digits around your clit.

Mewling out something incomprehensible, nausea and arousal making the pressure in your skull difficult to ignore, you can't muster up the energy to push him away as each gentle touch feels like fresh lightning scoring across your overheated flesh.

"Every part as good as the last, sweetheart." Cooper speaks eventually, flashing bloodied teeth at you as he covers the wound on your thigh with his free palm, the pressure making you squeal in discomfort. "A man won't be able to forget an experience like that."

"Remember it well, handsome, cause that hurt like fuck and I ain't doing it again."

The threat of an approaching orgasm quickly making your heels curl against the ground, you gasp out your response before his actions have you reduced to a babbling, sobbing mess - so lost in that hazy space where pain melts with pleasure that you doubt you'd even notice him sneaking his way in for a second bite.

Slipping higher until the sensation of his breath on your cunt makes your brain short-circuit, Cooper is as enthusiastic as ever as he growls playfully at your words.

"Noted, sweetheart."

#no metaphors here. just a straight up fucking CHOMP #fallout #fallout tv #cooper howard #the ghoul #ghoul #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard fic #cooper howard smut #ghoul smut #walton goggins #fallout amazon #fallout fic #ghoul x reader #ghoul x you

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leviathanleva · 7 months ago

Text

Father

........................

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader

........................

Request:

This is kind of a weird req and I want to write something for it eventually but-

Fem! Reader who was frozen but eventually escapes and falls for the Ghoul and they fuck a couple times and for some reason she has symptoms of pregnancy and they're like what the fuck but it just turns out that she was pregnant before she was frozen and the Ghoul's reactions and whatever. Angst or fluff I don't really mind :)

........................

[3.2k words]

[MDNI, Angst, Smut, Fluff]

[ I don't usually do requests, but I wanted to help out a friend who believed they wouldn't be able to do justice to this prompt. It's sloppy, not perfect, but time is limited and I have other projects that need my attention so I hope this suffices. ]

........................

Freedom.

Freedom was sweet.

Freedom was bitter.

Since the moment you’d awoken in that Gods-forsaken cryo pod in that wasting away vault you’d known there was no other path except the path of freedom. Stepping over mummified corpses, fellow vault dwellers you presumed, you’d lead wobbly legs and a pounding heart to the entrance of the vault. It felt like yesterday you’d first set foot in there. In reality, you had no idea how many years had passed, but from the looks of the rusting walls and thick blanket of dust, it had been a while.

You took what you could, stuffing a stray children’s backpack you’d found along your scavenging mission, anything and everything that would be necessary for a journey into a land you used to call home. A small pocket knife was the best you could get and it wasn’t the perfect self-defense tool, but with no other choice there wasn’t much you could do but stuff it in the pocket of your suit and hope for a miracle if you ran into trouble.

And trouble you found.

Since your first step into the bone-dry, scalding hot, merciless wasteland, you’d found trouble in the shape of a deranged group of people hammering at the vault door with makeshift weapons. You might have been able to fight off one of them, you doubted given how dizzy and out-of-touch with reality you were, but there was a slim chance. Three of them though, all large burly men with enough scars to put a military general to shame? No, that was impossible. You ended up a writhing mess on the ground, face pushed into the cracked soil and screaming and kicking as you were being taunted and tied up like a good catch after a successful hunt. Trafficking, cannibalism, organ harvesting, death. A slew of words so vile they made your stomach churn and your eyes bulge out of your skull because who in their right mind said such things to an outnumbered, weak woman who pleaded in a broken voice and had tears staining her cheeks?

Then he appeared, your guardian angel.

A man so grotesque on the outside, so vicious and bitter and terrifying, and yet he was the one who shot your captors down. He was the one who cut your wrists and ankles free and helped you sit up as you heaved and choked and sobbed. He was the one who checked you over despite the visible revulsion on his gaunt face at the sight of your vault suit. He’d dragged you to your feet, forced some sense into you, given you a stern reality check of the world he came from and never really shooed you away when you’d started following him around like a lost pup.

You loved him since that day.

And maybe it wasn’t the good kind of love because he’d used you as a distraction for his enemies more than once and never shared his water with you even if you were on the brink of passing out from dehydration. But he also let you sit close to the fire at night, told you stories of his bounty hunts, taught you how to handle a gun and always kept you in his sights lest someone thought you were up for grabs. He was a cruel man, but he was also a kind man.

You never overstepped. Always following his every order, whether it was to hide, to strip bleeding men of their valuables, or to get him another drink when his feet were kicked high and he couldn’t be bothered to do so himself. Always pliant, always willing, no questions asked because you wanted to live despite the hellhole reality you were thrust in. Maybe that’s why he grew fond of you over time, you didn’t rebel against him and took what he gave you with a whisper of gratitude. A good dog, that’s how he saw you. He slowly softened for you, split your rations evenly when you sat down to eat, thrust the canteen in your hands when he noticed your lips were dry, and smushed his hat over your head when the sun was too awful and you were too delicate to withstand it.

Cooper Howard, that was his name, a man made ghoul by the sheer toxicity of the surface, a man who gave you enough scraps to keep your love for him flourishing but never progressed things beyond a one-sided infatuation.

That is until he was left struggling on the floor of an old abandoned farmhouse, a feral ghoul looming above him and pinning him in place and snapping its jaws at him as foul-smelling, viscous drool dribbled down its chin. His hunting knife was gripped tightly, but between keeping himself from being bitten to shreds and holding one of the ghoul’s hands at bay before it could sink into his side and tear at his gut, he was stuck.

When the shot rang out and the ghoul slumped against him lifelessly, he saw you. Holding his gun as you shook violently, about ready to piss yourself because you’d never killed anything remotely resembling a human in your life, eyes wide and lips trembling and knees buckling. Smoke leisurely rose from the tip of the barrel and as he pushed the corpse off himself you sunk to your arse and burst into a fit of haggard breaths and disturbed whines.

You didn’t resist when he picked you up with alien tenderness, didn’t protest when he stuffed you in an old rickety couch and crushed you beneath his weight with a handful of sweet praises. You didn’t pull away in disgust when his tongue pushed past your lips in search of your own, twirling, dancing, letting words spill without ever being spoken. He wasn’t gentle, since the moment you heard his belt unbuckling he was all pawing hands and chopped curses, fiddling with your clothes until his need became too much to bear and he simply ripped them off. He threw a weak promise to get you new ones, but you couldn't care less at that moment. High-pitched mewls and desperate grunts bounced off the walls as he took you on that couch, rutting into you like a man possessed and gripping onto you so firmly as if you’d come to your senses any moment now and run away from him.

A radstorm raged outside, clashing against the boarded-up windows as the pitter-patter of acid rain poured against the tin roof. You never even noticed, too drunk on the sloppy sounds coming from the slick mess of your conjoined bodies, on the verge of a climax so raw it would surely knock you out. Blunt fingernails sank in your supple thighs, scarred hips slammed into yours as he fucked you dumb into the couch. His mouth never left yours, whether it was to keep himself quiet in case too many loving words escaped or because he craved your taste like a rabid dog did blood, you didn’t know. When your ankles locked around his waist he snarled, whatever self-control he’d managed to scrape by completely dissipating as he drove himself deeper. The tip of his cock snapped against the barrier of your squishy cervix so deliciously and you screamed his name in desperation and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He released one of your hips to slide a hand between your bodies and drag his rough thumb over your swollen clit. Your back arched, eyes rolled back and mouth agape as you bombarded him with barely coherent sentences that he didn’t deserve. He clutched at your hair when you clamped down on him, milking him for everything he had while he rocked out his release with face stuffed in the crook of your neck.

Something in him changed after that night.

It might have been the unfathomably long time without a caring touch or him finally succumbing to the little voices in his head telling him what he held for you wasn’t simply fondness. He took you every chance he got. In a guest house, against the wall of a bar after one too many drinks, bent over on a chewed-up fence after scavenging another farmhouse. He was relentless and you loved that about him. You loved everything about him. Always needy and ready and he couldn’t ask for more because this was the closest he could get to expressing himself when it came to you.

Life was good.

Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

You wince as the needle prickles your skin before retracting back in the Pip-boy. The green screen whirls, loading up and analyzing your blood sample for a full body scan. You give the damn thing a few smacks when it freezes and stutters.

Now really wasn’t the time for technical difficulties.

“You okay?”

Apparently, no matter how hard you had tried to hide your bubbling panic, it was still evident enough for Cooper to notice. He’s looking at you with a hint of suspicion, attention averted from the steaming can of cram he’d been stuffing in his mouth.

“I’m good, no worries.” you muster up a weary smile and instinctively tuck the Pip-boy closer to your stomach.

When the Vault Boy pops up on the screen with all the information available regarding your condition, you tense up. Your fingers hesitate to turn the cog to the main body scan as doubts and confusion and raw, untamable fear chew at your sensitive stomach and tug you slowly towards the gates of insanity.

“Don’t look okay to me.” Cooper straightens from his slouched-over position over the measly fire and sets aside his food before clasping a hand over one of his thighs. “Was wrong? Was I too rough again?” there’s a teasing scowl brightening his usually stoic expression, he scoffs and shakes his head. “I told you t’ smack my shoulder when I get too loose, woman. You never listen.”

You want to cry and laugh, but you do neither.

“That’s not it, Cooper.”

“Then speak for fuck’s sake!” he grumbles and gestures to you with slight agitation.

You pay him no mind, having delved too deep in the premises of your mind on what you were supposed to do if you read that single life-changing word on the scan. With a huff and a mental pat on your back, you turned the cog and opened the main body scan.

“Pregnant.”

It made sense. It explained the morning sickness that you hid, being forced out of your sleep while Cooper snored lightly next to you, and carefully pulling away before rushing to a safe spot where you could empty your stomach without being seen. You never told him, just jammed RadAway after RadAway, hoping it was poisoning or maybe some sort of flu. When the cravings came, you started second-guessing. You never gave into them, throwing caps left and right for a slice of some nearly impossible-to-get delicacy was unthinkable, you had to survive and there was no room for luxury.

You failed to spot the rugged ghoul as he left his seat and crept closer, spurred by your awkward demeanor, until he was kneeling right next to you and silently sharing the sight of the green graph.

“What in the hell…”

You recoiled at his words, at his realization, and tried to cover the Pip-boy with your hand and hide the thunderous revelation of your condition.

He was having none of it.

He smacked your hand away and gripped your forearm so tight you shuddered, bringing it closer to his eyes as his face contorted.

“What the fuck does this mean?” he spits and looks at you with something vile in those whiskey-colored eyes you loved so much.

“I don’t – ” you swallow thickly, crumbling under his gaze and snuffing out the need to rip away from him and run. You meet his stare for a split second before turning away. “ – I haven’t…Not with anyone except you.”

Lightning strikes into his core and he pulls away like bitten by a snake.

“The hell you mean you haven’t fucked anyone ‘cept me?” he stands, intimidating and cold, berating you with just his visage and nothing more. “How the fuck did you get pregnant then?”

“I’ve been with you since the day I left the vault, you know this.” you reach out for him, desperate for some sort of comfort, desperate for him to calm down because you couldn’t mentally take on both him and the news. “Cooper, please.”

He shoots you down with a snarl and a spine-chilling glare.

“Don’t fucken’ touch me.”

He’s pacing, trotting around like a cornered animal, the spurs on his boots clinking, a sickening cacophony that roots you in place and keeps your mouth shut. You don’t know what to say, you’re not a liar, yet you wish this was some twisted joke and you could laugh it off and confirm it wasn’t real.

A hand is rubbing vigorously at his chin as he tries to think, but there’s nothing in his head except that one single word that means so much and makes absolutely no sense.

He knew you weren’t lying, he’d always kept you within arm’s length, there was no way for you to even sneak past him without being noticed.

It still hurt though, the image of you leaving because he was a rotten man who’d struck gold by finding you. He was no good for you, never would be, and it tore him to shreds because he knew all of this and still he kept you by his side and cocked his gun at anyone who tried to step too close.

Why wouldn’t you bed another man when he looked like a walking corpse and acted even worse? Why wouldn’t you ditch him to be with a nice bartender or a good-mannered farmboy who would treat you like a lady should be treated?

Why wouldn’t you cheat him out of the only happiness he had?

“Is not fucking possible, Sweetheart.” he finally speaks, faltering at your audible sobs. The idea of you slipping past his fingers to sleep with someone else is pushed to the side by the absolutely pathetic sight of you curled up on the floor and crying.

Ghouls were sterile, all of them, 100%, there was no way for him to knock you up even if he wanted to. But the Pip-boy said otherwise and now he was left questioning the very foundation of his existence.

“I know that.” you sputter through choppy hiccups. “But you’re the only man I’ve been with...It doesn’t make fucking sense.” you clutch at your sides, waterfalls streaming down your cheeks and pooling under your chin, eyes distant and jittery. “What if it’s deformed because of the radiation? Or if it’s not even alive? Or – What am I supposed to do…”

His body moves despite his protests.

He kneels in front of you, encasing you between his thighs, his fingers twitching and rising as he drowns in the long-forgotten feeling of being presented with such news. His hands are shaking and he rests them over your shoulders and pretends he can’t feel his pulse rampaging in his throat.

“What do you wanna do?”

It’s such a simple question, but coming from him under such a premise makes your head spin and your heart stop.

“I – ” you press your forehead against the center of his collarbones, arms protectively curling over your belly because despite not showing there was someone in there. Someone precious. “ – I don’t know…I’d like to – I don’t know.”

You stop and start, cutting off words that you weren’t ready to tell him yet and he wasn’t ready to hear either. But life didn’t care if you were ready or not, things happened, consent or not, and now you were both stuck in a mess you’d unwittingly made all by yourselves. There was always the easy route – find a settlement, get to the doc, have it removed, done deal, easy peasy.

But did you really want that?

It wasn’t just your kid, it was his too and him not saying a word, not even mentioning discarding it made things so much harder.

No, he gave you a choice, he put everything in your hands and he was holding you while you fought a silent battle that would dictate the entirety of your future.

“I think – ”

“ – I ain’t goin’ fucken’ nowhere.” he slices through your hesitation like butter, body rigid and jaw clenched because for once he was trying to be a man and not a monster.

Maybe even a father.

You shatter in his arms like glass and he presses one of his palms against the back of your head while the other circles your waist and brings you closer.

“You’d stay?” you ask with such horror and disbelief that it clutches at his chest and he struggles to breathe. You’re no coward, despite how heavy the air feels, you look up at him and you’re so vulnerable and angelic that he forgets every setback that would come his way. “If I kept it…you’d stay?”

He can’t answer, the words refuse to form, but he holds your gaze with calm stability, a good masquerade to hide a mind that was racing and a heart that was pounding so heavily he felt his entire body pulsing. Instead, he leaned in and pressed his chapped lips against your forehead in a voiceless promise.

You suck in a breath like it’s your first and cling to the collar of his coat, disappearing in his form, hiding from the world that was so cruel yet gifted you with something so precious.

The Pip-boy is still lit and waiting, the scan bright and piercing. You skim over it absentmindedly, a simple curious flick, then look again and squint your eyes at the tiny text printed under your pregnancy announcement.

“Four months.”

You’d only been out of cryo for three…

He followed your wide-eyed stare, he was no fool, he could do basic math.

You’d been pregnant before meeting him, before leaving the vault, before the bombs.

You want to puke. You want to rip your skin off and bury yourself alive because for the love of God it couldn’t be just perfect, there had to be some sick underlying thing to ruin everything. It wasn’t his, he was right, ghouls couldn’t have children.

It wasn’t his child.

You look disgusted and utterly pained because the realization makes you mourn at the idea of carrying his baby. You wanted to, you’d give anything for it to be his and not some random bloke you couldn’t even remember the face of. You wanted it to be his…

You search his face for anger or disappointment or anything that would prepare you for what was to come. Why would he stay if the damn thing wasn’t even his? He had his own problems, his mission. You were just an obstacle that had nearly made him believe he was going to be a father and maybe it was his second chance at doing it right.

There was nothing though.

He simply blinked at you, lips parted as he formed a sentence that had you pledge yourself to him for as long as you stood and breathed.

“That don’t change a damn thing.”

Masterlist

Tag list: @bountydroid @v3lv3tf0x @silverose365

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv series #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul fallout #x reader

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pedropascallme · 28 days ago

Text

☆Kinktober 2024☆

Day 10: Period sex

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) oral (f receiving), fingering, some dirty talk, allusions to cannibalism, mentions of period cramps, it's hard having a uterus during the apocalypse, Cooper is a cannibal and he's obsessed with getting a taste of you, if I missed anything please let me know!!

You’d bled through most of your clothing.

Which, you figured, was a better alternative than bleeding out through most of your clothing—but the stains made your pants feel stiff, chafing at your inner thighs and leaving you with flaky, almost gummy marks that clung to your skin.

Every month was a losing battle.

The only times you found yourself missing the comfort of life underground were when you remembered the soothing burn of a heating pad, and the reliable cotton products that lined bathroom shelves.

But you made do with what you could find.

In a pinch, excess fabric could be folded into something pad-like. But it always sat uncomfortably on your crotch, threatening to inch down your pant leg and leave you with more of a mess than you’d started with.

Mostly you found yourself free bleeding.

The world had already ended, nobody cared if you walked around covered in your own blood—they didn’t care if you walked around covered in someone else’s blood, either.

Cooper had found humor in your plight.

“Give it a few more months out’ere,” he laughed when you showed him the stains, “It’ll go’way.”

But he did feel bad when you stooped over, cramping, unable to bite back at his unsavory wit as you white-knuckled your own knee through the pain.

And it was around that time he’d suggested a method of alternative relief.

“Can’t stop th’blood, but…” He’d explained, your head on his chest while you traced his scars beneath your fingers. You’d been complaining to him about the warnings your body sent you about the week to come. The usual smarminess in his tone was replaced with an almost sheepish lilt, “Could help.”

You had told Cooper it felt too taboo, too messy for whatever the outcome may be, and he’d laughed.

“Y’already fuckin’ a ghoul, sweetheart,” he’d kissed at your neck, “Ain’t much can be more taboo than’at. ‘Nd when’ve ya ever seen me balk at a mess?” Another kiss to your neck, more heated now, his teeth pressing into your jugular, “Always clean up, don’ I?”

So, you had conceded, happily letting him undress you and spread you out on the creaky bed when your period arrived.

But he still made an effort to go slow, to make you comfortable with his actions.

Cooper situated himself between your legs, turned on his side ever so slightly to comfortably rest his head on your thigh.

Your hands roamed over his scalp; fleeting touches, your nails grazing his scar-marked skin. You let out husky breaths every time he trailed his hand down over your stomach, stopping just above where you needed him most before he repeated the dragging motion.

You let your hand fall lower, squeezing his shoulder.

It was in an effort to get him to move, to do something to quell the ache in your core, the desire that burned ever brighter with every breath he took, the position of his head ensuring that his long exhales fanned your naked cunt.

But you also just enjoyed the close proximity, the ways he had of making you feel special and putting you on this pedestal so that he could worship you.

He was more excited than you were, and he made no effort to hide his enthusiasm. He pressed his cheek against your pubic mound, closing his eyes and appreciating the smell—the iron that mingled with something so uniquely you.

He growled, pressing his hips into the bed slightly to relieve the building pressure he felt.

“Whenever y’ready, sweetheart,” he continued to breath in the scent, “Gonna eat ya whole.”

Your fingers dug into his shoulder, tender pressure from your palm rather than harsh scrapes of your nail; a signal, a sign that you wanted it.

“Ready when you are, cowboy…” You tried to keep your voice steady when you felt him smirk against you, just barely baring his teeth and letting them stick to your skin.

With that, he was completely unrestrained.

He sat up on his forearms, wrapping them under your thighs to keep you open, and burying his face in your cunt.

Your blood was lubricating, letting him glide his tongue between your folds and press himself into your hole.

And he moaned.

He moaned loudly and animalistically, drenching himself in your blood, chasing your scent and your taste, trying to drown himself in it.

“Cooper—” You felt the blood smear between your legs, his face coated in you, his skin sticking to yours as he searched for more. “Coop…”

He paused, but not before licking a stripe up your slit to collect your blood on his tongue.

When he looked up at you, his eyes were blown out, pupils swallowing whatever color was left and replacing it with pure, unadulterated lust.

He stared, your blood dripping from his chin, smeared over the lower half of his face and threatening to stain his shirt. He breathed heavily, lips parted, and licked his lips absentmindedly.

“Feels good…” Was all you said, reaching out to cup his cheek in your palm and touch the splatter on his skin. “Keep going.”

He turned, almost robotically, to kiss your palm. You dropped your hand, and, wordlessly, he dove back into you.

You could feel the gnashing of his teeth, the effort he put into holding back to ensure your comfort.

Cooper brought two fingers to your hole, gathering the slick and blood that painted your lower half before pushing them into you.

“Oh, fuck,” you panted, one hand flying to grip his wrist, to help him push himself into you and set the fast pace you wanted. Your other hand loosely grasped the tattered sheets under you, twisting them as your body contorted.

He sucked on your clit, flicking over the bud with his tongue to watch you squirm for him.

He was consumed with arousal and adrift in pleasure, desperate to hear you moan, to watch you writhe beneath him, to savor your taste.

His fingers curled, sliding against your walls and forcing your back to arch.

You released your grip on his wrist, leaving him with total control over his ministrations. He watched his hand, his fingers thrusting into you, the blood that dripped over his palm; his ears rang with your sounds, the way your mouth formed the syllables of his name, and the pornographic squelch of your cunt around his fingers.

He bucked his hips into the bed, unable to comprehend whether it was the smell or the feeling that was making him so wild; or whether it was simply because it was you.

He dropped his head down, licking the bloody glaze from his fingers every time he pulled them out of you. He could feel you pulse around him, hear your moans turning into breathy, unformed whimpers that barely escaped your throat, and he wanted, now more than ever, for you to cum on his hand.

He wanted you to bleed on him, for him.

“Always been sweet, darlin’,” he grunted against you, “But I think this is th’best y’ever tasted.”

You whined, pushing your hips into his face and fingers.

“Y’know how long I been wantin’ this?” Cooper flicked his tongue over your clit, and you flinched, “Every time y’start bleedin’ I wanna push my face between these thighs ‘n’fuck ya with my mouth. Wanna smell it—taste the fuckin’ life in you.”

He began punching his fingers up into you, rough strokes and curled digits, making you gasp out for him.

“C’mon,” his voice was gruff, almost impatient, delirious from the scene before him, “C’mon, sweetheart, gimme somethin’.”

He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking on you hard and pushing his fingertips directly into the most tender spot on your walls.

You came with a cry, hips moving on their own accord in sync with his movements as you rode out the pleasure.

When you looked up, Cooper removed his fingers from you, bringing them to his mouth and sucking. The action made you moan, letting your head fall back against the pillows.

“You’re…” You began, searching for words.

“Amazin’? A great fuck?” Cooper removed his fingers from his mouth, resting his hand on your leg, “Jaw-droppin’ly handsome?” He shot you a lopsided grin.

“A freak,” you smiled, and he swatted your thigh.

You reached down to pull at his arms, encouraging him to lie with you.

“Y’feel alright?” He questioned, coming up to lay beside you and wiping your blood from his face with the back of his hand. “Any better’n before?”

“Much,” you curled into him. Rubbing your legs together, you felt the remnants of smeared blood and pleasure, thick on your skin in a much more satisfactory way than the stains. “Told you it’d be messy.”

“No—well, hey,” He turned his face to you, grinning, “I’ma jus’ have t’clean ya up, then.”

#kinktober 2024 #cooper howard #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul fallout #fallout the ghoul #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #walton goggins #walton goggins smut #walton goggins x reader #walton goggins x you #fallout smut

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 9 months ago

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the dead ringer

buttercup, chapter three

a/n: yeah, this did happen to me in real life, although it happened on a bus so i couldn't immediately get away... ANYWAYS! enjoy this hurt/comfort heavy chapter!

summary: “I think I know something that might help a bit.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, crying, panic attacks, matt using his superpowers for the sake of hurt/comfort, boxing

word count: 2057

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Drizzling the flour into the wide bowl, like a dusty snowfall, you watched the number on the scale carefully as you neared the desired number. Though just before you hit it, Walter’s head suddenly poked in through the doorway leading behind the counter and interrupted you and Howard’s all-too-important discussion on what the day’s music choice should be.

“Hey, Y/n? There’s someone here to see you.”

Laying down the scoop still holding a bit of flour, you dragged your palms down the brown apron tied around your frame and exited the kitchen. A bright smile spread across your face and crinkled up your gaze as you spotted who was standing on the other side of the counter.

“Matt, hey–, oh my god,” you then suddenly noticed the bruising that blossomed out from under his tinted glasses and stretched up over the patched-up scrape that split his left brow, “what happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just wasn’t paying attention last night, tripped and fell, that’s all,” he waved a hand, “I just wanted to stop by on my way to work, get a round of coffees to-go for everyone and perhaps some breakfast for myself, just whatever you think I’d like.”

“You’ll let me pick?” your eyebrows rose slightly.

But Matt simply smiled and said, “I trust your judgment,” his grip shifted gently on the cane standing tall before his chest.

As you moved to make the coffees, “alright,” you drew out a pondering breath, “are you in the mood for something sweet or savoury?”

Thinking about it a second, he uttered, “savoury.”

“Do you like sandwiches?” you popped the lids on the to-go cups. When he nodded, you placed the coffees in a little cardboard tray, “okay, I think you’ll like this one,” grabbed a brown paper bag and moved further down the counter, “it’s made with focaccia and has pesto in it as well as some tomatoes and cheese and stuff.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“I also–, you know what? I’ll be right back,” you then abruptly turned and momentarily disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing a few of the pillowy buns still on the cooling rack into a bag. As you returned, you also snuck a hand into the display case and stuffed a few other goodies into the sack, “just for the others, if they want,” you placed the bundle onto the counter beside the coffees, “I just pulled them out of the oven a bit ago and they’re still warm.”

“What is it?” Matt tilted his chin.

“Uh, some raisin buns, but I also threw two croissants in there in case they didn’t like raisins...”

A soft smile warmed his bruised features as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, “what do I owe you?”

“Oh no,” your hands waved lightly before you, “it’s on the house.”

“Y/n, come on,” he cocked his head.

“Fine,” you light-heartedly sighed, “if you really wanna sing for your supper, then I’ll cash it in at a later date. I don’t know, maybe if I get arrested someday or something you could help me out.”

“You don’t have to bribe me with free baked goods for that.”

“No, but it sure doesn’t hurt, does it?” you chuckled.

“No,” he joined in as he reached for the bags, “I guess it doesn’t.”

“You want some help carrying it?” you asked, hope seeping through your tone, “I could take my break and walk with you the rest of the way.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, we just got through the morning rush, they’ll be fine without me for–, I don’t know, 15 minutes or however long it’ll take to walk to your office and back.”

“Alright, thanks,” he smiled, one paper bag hooked in the fingers that also clutched the cane.

“I’m just gonna go grab my jacket, one second,” you said before ducking into the back to do so, letting your uncles know as you slipped out of your comfortable work clogs and into your sneakers.

You ended up dividing the load, with you carrying the coffees and the last bag in one arm, though a few protests left you at first, begging him to let you carry all of it, they melted away as his free hand enveloped yours.

When you reached his office, your arms wrapped around his frame as you hugged him long enough for your heartbeats to sync up, and just as you pulled away, his wide palms still warm on your back, you leaned in and planted a brief peck on his scruffy cheek.

One of his hands swept up to meet the side of your face as your lips retracted. You pulled back so slowly that you weren’t sure you were moving at all, being drawn in by his warmth like a moth to a flame.

His nose gently grazed against yours as he let himself linger, but just as your eyes fluttered shut in expectance that he’d kiss you, his warmth withdrew and he slowly breathed, “have a good day.”

In a matter of seconds, you had gone from giggling, glancing down at some silly joke on your phone as you walked home, to panic instantly kicking in as a passerby’s voice pierced your soul and made your blood run cold.

Glancing around, you saw a stranger standing off to the side and yapping into his phone. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t Michael, but it sounded exactly like him, so much so that the tone sent your body right back to that very night as if no time had passed at all.

Willing your body to move, forcing it to conquer the short rest of the way home, once your front door shut behind you and your quiet apartment consumed you, painful sobs began to burst out of your trembling frame. Hyperventilating, you crashed into the nearby wall of the entryway directly across from the door, incapable of getting deeper into your home.

Soon, a quiet and surprising knock found your door.

“Y/n?” the worried tone of your neighbour sounded from the other side.

Your shaky voice came out no louder than a whisper, “M-Matt?”

There might not have been any other instances you could recall where accidentally forgetting to lock your door turned out for the better, because when Matt then tried the handle, it gently complied.

Shutting it behind him, he rushed to you, “hey, hey,” he uttered softly, a hand soothingly finding your arm, “what’s going on?”

Attempting an answer, “I–, I–,” only incoherent sobs managed to seep from you.

“Okay, alright,” he sucked in a controlled breath, one of his hands sliding up to the strap of your backpack, “how about we start by getting all the way inside, huh?” gently gliding it off you and resting the bag on the floor.

You let yourself lean into him fully as he supported you on the short journey towards the couch. Wobbly taking a seat, his touch left you as he settled beside you.

Spine curving, you buried your puffy face in your trembling hands, letting the whole world drift away as small lakes were birthed within your palms from your pain.

When the sobs eventually began to subsite, growing further and farther apart, your frame slowly unfurled. Instinctively flicking your hands before your form, you tried to physically shake even a fraction of the excruciating sensation off of you, but without success.

Matt hadn’t moved an inch, simply stayed there right beside you.

When your quiet voice eventually filled space, it came out broken and overflowing with emotion, “I thought it was him… it wasn’t, b-but it sounded exactly like him… I’ve done double takes every time I saw a stranger with the same haircut or felt nauseous every time I encountered the same name, but this really did sound like him. Same voice, same accent, same everything… but it wasn’t him… it wasn’t… it just sent me right back, you know?”

Hesitantly, you grasped his hand in yours, expecting the contact to only make it worse, to somehow taint and ruin his wonderful and soothing touch, but it didn’t, he didn’t. It was Matt.

Trying to regain control of your breathing, you shakily sucked in deep breaths, feeling your gulps of air slowly become calmer and migrate from the very top of your chest, down to expand your sore stomach. Eyes only half open and utterly exhausted, you noticed that your head was now leaning against Matt’s shoulder.

Glancing hazily down at yourself, you muttered, “fuck… I still have my shoes and jacket on…”

Reaching down, he offered, “here,” before sliding your coat off, resting it on the back of the couch, and leaning down to pull your shoes off.

Curling your legs up onto the couch, the shift in your position offered you more relief than you’d expected. As you attempted to get as comfortable as you possibly could in the state you were in, you snatched up Matt’s hand once more.

Offering your palm a soothing squeeze, he asked quietly, “what do you need, huh? What can I do?”

“I–…” you thought, your brain just as drained as your body was, “I don’t know… maybe–… maybe just be here a bit?”

Exhaling lowly, he flashed you a faint smile, “of course.”

Glancing down at his fingers, sweeping across your own, you said, “hey, Matt? Could you maybe–, uh… could you give me a hug?”

Not hesitating, his strong arms engulfed your quivering frame and a fresh wave of sobs swiftly bubbled out of you as he held you tight, though your cries didn’t push him away, he stayed steadfast, embracing you close till the eruption ultimately simmered down, leaving you nearly asleep against his tear-stained shoulder.

As he gently lowered you down to lay on the couch, you tightened your grip on his shirt as he began to pull back, ushering him to sink down as well, allowing you to curl into his safe embrace and let slumber drift you away.

When you finally stirred, the sun was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey,” you blinked up at Matt still in the exact same spot as before.

“Hey,” you replied groggily, “what time is it?” swiftly fishing your phone out of your pant pocket before Matt could conjure an answer, “oh, fuck… it’s nearly midnight… did you sleep as well?”

“Not really,” he shrugged, “maybe for a little bit, but no.”

“Oh…” you breathed, averting your gaze.

“How are you feeling?” his thumb swiped your waist where his broad palm was planted.

“…I don’t know…” you exhaled, “…exhausted… sad… angry… really fucking angry… so angry that it kinda scares me…”

After a beat of silence, with only your woeful breaths filling the space, Matt then uttered, “I think I know something that might help a bit.”

Your gaze drifted from the faded paint on the walls to the worn punching bags as you and Matt sat on the edge of the central ring and his fingers worked at wrapping up your hands.

“Do you come here a lot?” you asked, your vision gliding back to him.

“From time to time,” he tilted his head slightly, “reminds me of my dad,” tucking the last end of the strip under the weave, securing it into place, he closed your hand into a fist and exhaled, “alright, you’re ready,” he adjusted your grip, briefly offering your wrist a squeeze as he said, “just remember to keep your wrist strong and your thumb right here,” he slid your finger down below your knuckles.

You hadn’t gone into it with much hope, in fact, it was only out of your desperation just feel better that you even humoured the experiment. In the beginning, it did feel as silly as you’d imagined, nearly stopped completely, but at some point in the mess of it all, your punches grew more ferocious, they grew more brutal, and suddenly something inside of you snapped and unravelled. It wasn’t some magic pill, but the physical act did loosen something within you and gave away to a fresh release of sobs, though not the painful and unbearable kind you’d had to endure earlier. It was the kind that felt like relief. Even if it wasn’t permanent, in that very moment, you didn’t feel like you were drowning anymore.

#lea’s writing #buttercup series #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock series #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock hurt/comfort

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finniestoncrane · 4 months ago

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2.5k Event Request - Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader word count: 800 a/n: hi hello i am insane for tickling, it's such a sweet, soft, giggly activity and it also involves a bit of teasing and mischief, so it has cooper's name all over it!! cw: tickling, soft affection, soothing/comforting, fluff, rope bondage, teasing 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2.5k (to follow or to block)

"What's the matter, darlin'? Aside from the plethora of obvious factors that've got that pretty face lookin' so forlorn."

Cooper saddled up beside you on the worn and filthy mattress, his hands clasped in his lap as he tried to think of the next steps. Comforting people didn't come as easy to him these days, not for some time, but for you he was willing to try. Even if it meant making a few mistakes.

Breaking his fingers apart, he slammed one hand down hard against your shoulder, a gesture that was supposed to shake you out of your slump, but instead brought a small radiating pain over your skin.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Just tryin' to cheer you up a little."

"And you thought that was the way to do it?"

"A little physical comfort is usually the thing to cure what ails ya."

He smirked, winking one of his deep set eyes as you rolled yours.

"Yeah, well I'm not really in the mood for that kind of comfort. Are you capable of laying your hands on someone without the intent of hurting them?"

While you wouldn't have minded some of Cooper's usual method of physical affection, you needed something more gentle. Something a bit less wild than what he offered most of the time. Even though the knot in your stomach began to coil as he lifted your shirt off, exposing your torso to the chill of the room.

"Oh, suddenly you don't like it when I'm rough and you get a little bruised?"

"Not that I don't like it. But it would be nice to see a different side to you. Something a bit… softer?"

"Is that so, little lady?"

He tipped his hat up, offering you a clearer view of his face as he stood up. Echoes the chivalrous cowboy he once was were still present, but he was the same mischievous fiend you'd fallen for in the Wasteland. This was only emphasised as he held out a length of rope between his hands, raising an eyebrow at you as he waited for you to accept his unspoken offer.

"This is your idea of softer?"

"Trust me."

You did trust him, so you brought your wrists together out in front of you and let Cooper tie them together, watching carefully as he stood back to admire the knot Then, with his palms placed gently on your shoulders this time, he eased you backwards until you were laying down, his fingers hooked under the rope to guide your arms upwards, resting over your head.

Resting beside you, Cooper began to stroke your neck, his fingers dancing delicately over your skin as you began to squirm, pleasantly surprised by how gentle he was being and how nice it felt to have him caress you so lovingly.

"There it is, that beautiful smile. Couldn't have slept right if I'd known you weren't wearing it."

Your grin widened in response, opening into a gasp as he began kissing your throat, following your sternum down until his face was between your breasts. And with his hands now tickling your arms, fingers moving up and down slowly, he pursed his lips and blew soft, warm air across your nipples. As he watched them harden in response to the tingle of arousal, Cooper reached down to the side of the bed, fumbling around in the cabinet. When he found what he was looking for, he held it out triumphantly.

"Knew I saw it earlier. Might seem like some mangy old feather duster, but you ain't seen what I can do with one of them yet."

Cooper's laugh echoed yours, deeper and darker than your light giggle as he kissed over your stomach. His free hand lifted the duster, feathered ends still surprisingly soft, and he ran it up your thigh, groaning as you twitched when it passed over a particularly sensitive area.

Each time your hands lifted off the mattress, he gently pushed them back down, tutting slightly before kissing you again, your cheek, your arm, your hip. And when the hand was free, when he was sure you were keeping yourself in check, he tucked his fingers below the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down and tossing them to the floor. Then, with his palm pressed between your thighs, he spread your legs open, biting his lip as he watched your folds part, your cunt wet and waiting.

Your back arched off the mattress as he ran the duster up your inner thigh, his own body reacting to your wanton display of desire, the sound of your laughter as he let the soft, tickling tendrils of his tool flit over your delicate, soothed skin. He wanted you, but he could wait. Seeing you smile was enough to tide him over for now.

#fallout #fallout amazon #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 #finnie2.5k

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 5 months ago

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Sugar Daddy!Cooper Howard really seemed to resonate with y'all (I can't imagine why...), and I definitely heard your requests for a fic! I have a little fun something planned (and I also plan to incorporate quite a few sugar daddy habits into "Duplicity" Cooper), but until then I thought some more headcanons might be fun.

Cooper Howard loves to spend money spoiling you with things like clothes, jewelry, flowers, and dates, but he's also equally happy to spend money on practical things if it takes something off your plate and makes you happy. The first time you invite him over to your place, he brings you flowers and a bottle of something fun. The second time he comes over, he brings bags of staples to fill your pantry and refrigerator (including food for any pets, right brands and flavors and everything), saying he noticed both were a little empty when he was last over. He tells you that next time you can just go with him to pick out what you want (while definitely not just outright fantasizing about an opportunity to be all domestic with you).

He's also quick to sort out your annoying little everyday problems for you. Need something repaired, replaced, or installed? He's already called around and found someone for you, and either he or someone he trusts will be there to pay them and keep you company while the associated people are in your home.

This man will absolutely take over paying your bills if you let him. He understands that it would put you in a vulnerable position, that it would require a lot of trust, and he wants to respect your independence. That said, he thinks the money you earn should go to things you want to spend it on. Even if you play coy about it, every month he gives you more than adequate money for expenses, and you can do with it what you want. Still insists everything be in your name for your protection.

In terms of dates, he really likes to take you to new places and to experience new things. Big fan of taking you on vacation, but due to his limited free time, the two of you are often restricted to places you can get to and back from in a weekend. Still, there are a lot of nice places in that distance, and he always tries to choose things, resorts and hotels and such, that he thinks you'd like.

One of his favorite things to give you, overall, is almost entirely for him (and he will admit this if asked): perfume. It riles him up when you smell extra nice, so he's always on the lookout for new perfumes to make you try. Every time he gifts you one, you remind him that you can only wear so many scents in one lifetime. His response is that he doesn't expect you to keep them all; you can give them away if you don't like how they smell on you (save for one that he really likes; he keeps that one and asks you to wear it around the house for him sometimes). You give away several, but eventually maintain a small collection of nice fragrances, whose bottles you display on a little shelf in your bathroom. You have no idea how much some of them cost (you don't ask) until a friend of yours comes over, sees them, and basically demands to know how you got your hands on thousands of dollars worth of perfume.

He's also not shy about spending money on your interests and hobbies. In fact, he encourages you to get more into them, happily financing and supporting your pursuits. When you offhandedly mention wishing you had more free time to do whatever it is, he says you should just quit your job. He's serious. Once he proposes, you begin to really consider his offer.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard headcanons #prewar!cooper howard #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

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brandyllyn · 5 months ago

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Silk from their soul (21)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: T Words: 2k Summary: Walking after midnight

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

The three men are Travis, Javier, and Bossman. You knew that wasn’t his actual name but so far no one had called him anything different. He was the one that the Cowboyhad seemed to know. The youngest, Travis, was guarding you and you made a point of being overly solicitous. Giving him wide smiles and thanking him when he helped you tend to business.

The Cowboy hated it.

Every time you batted your eyelashes at the boy, or touched him on the arm, you could see a vein start to throb on the Cowboy’s forehead. It gave you the tiniest bit of satisfaction to see it.

They were letting him walk free, for the moment, but you caught the glances Javier and Bossman kept throwing him. It had been a split second decision, saving his life. Or maybe you had just been saving yours. Could you both have survived a shootout? Maybe. But you weren’t ready to risk that just yet.

You wait til Travis is next to you and purposefully trip, grabbing for his arm as you fall in slow motion. The boy is there immediately and you let your fingers rub across the inside of his wrist as you part your lips and gasp up at him.

“Oh my, thank you so much.”

The Cowboy snorts. You ignore it.

Travis is staring at you like he’s never seen a woman before. Good, you can work with that.

“I’m so sorry, my feet are really hurting. Is there any way we could stop for a bit? Let me rest?” You twist as you ask the question, turning his hand so the back of it brushes across your breast.

Was that a growl?

“Yeah, yeah we can do that,” Travis tells you with a blank gaze. You should probably feel bad about what you’re doing but it wasn’t your fault the kid had a weak mind. He yells at the other two that you’re taking a break and after some brief bickering between the men you lower yourself next to a rusted out car and primly fold your feet under you.

“If don’t suppose you gentleman brought any food?” you ask, purposefully hiding the slightly hopeful lilt to your voice.

“Beans,” Javier grunts, pulling a dented can from his pack. “Ain’t nothing fancy.”

“Oh!” You brighten and sit up straighter, purposefully pushing your breasts towards him. “He has my pack with my spices in it - I’m sure I could make us all something lovely.”

“What kind of spices?” Bossman asks skeptically and you hide your grin.

There were two ways to a man’s heart…

They have to cut your wrists free so you can cook and you make a point of laying a thankful hand on Javier’s arm as he does so. He blinks at you a moment before turning away and you hum a tune as you start a small fire and hang a pot over it.

“Never cooked a damn thing for me,” the Cowboy grunts from nearby.

“Maybe I don’t like you as much,” you tell him brightly, winking at Bossman. He seems startled but grins at you in return.

Yeah, someone is definitely growling. You have a pretty good idea who.

You keep them all engaged in idle chatter as you add a variety of things to the beans, including some meat from the Cowboy’s pack. His lips twitch as you do so and you try not to think too hard about what it might be.

What they don’t know won’t hurt them.

When you finish you have a passable recreation of a comfort dish from long before the great war and you offer heaping spoonfuls to the men.

“Strong men like you need a good portion,” you tell Javier, adding an extra scoop.

“I’d hate to see you go hungry,” you tell Bossman, letting your lips part and trying to look concerned.

“Bullshit.”

The word is barely audible and you give the Cowboy a quick glare before turning your attention to Travis. “Is there anything else I can do?”

You were, in short, the perfect hostess. Part and parcel of being the perfect wife. The perfect partner. The perfect everything.

The pheromones you’re giving off in droves probably help too.

It takes a little concentration to do it, to turn on the charm that makes people’s jaws go slack and eyes cross. You have to focus on being soft, giving, keep your emotions in check.

The Cowboy is not helping.

“You gonna serve me up a bit of that slop?”

Your smile becomes strained and you blink at him for a moment before replying. “Sure! Got a bowl?”

He holds out a beaten up cup and you give him about half what you’d given everyone else. His forehead moves, raising a non-existent eyebrow, and your lips press together as you dare him to say something.

“Thank you kindly.”

You don’t hit him with the spoon. That would give the game away.

Instead you take your meal and settle down between Bossman and Javier, close enough your knees touch theirs. The Cowboy watches you thoughtfully and you do your best to ignore him.

“I didn’t realize how hard it would be to be out here on my own,” you say after a few minutes pass. “Everything is so dangerous.”

Travis nods at you, eyes wide, while Bossman scoffs. “Takes someone hard as nails to survive out here.”

The Cowboy snorts and you quickly cough to cover it up. “I just thought I’d see the world a little bit, you know? But I think… I mean, I’m really grateful you all found me.”

“We’re here to help,” Javier says with about half as much sarcasm as you might have expected.

“Ain’t we just,” the Cowboy chimes in and you meet his eyes.

Shut the fuck up, you try to tell him with your mind.

What the fuck are you doing? He seems to beam back.

With an overly dramatic yawn you stretch your arms out, taking a deep inhale and purposefully not noticing how the assembled company stare at your chest. “I suppose we should continue on? I’m so tired…”

The men exchange a glance while the Cowboy continues to give you an incredulous look. Bossman is who speaks up.

“Reckon we can spend the night here as good as any, sun’s about to set soon anyway.”

“Oh really?” You reach over and put a hand on his knee, concentrating all your energy on him. “That would be lovely.”

He looks a bit starstruck and you pull your pack close to you, futzing with it a moment before laying down and using it as a pillow. You keep up your internal monologue - soft, gentle, caring - while you fake falling asleep.

After a few moments you hear the Cowboy cough, and then the sound of his inhaler.

“You got enough of that shit, ghoul?”

“I won’t be eating any of you fellas in the night if that’s what you’re asking.”

A silence and then, “Well, I’d feel safer if you were tied up.”

“I bet you would.”

There’s a slight scuffle of feet, not a fight, just two people trying to move quickly, and you peek out to see two of them tying the Cowboy to an old phone pole.

“Ain’t nothing personal,” Bossman tells him and the Cowboy shrugs.

“I’ll try not to take it that way.”

You pretend to sleep on, not a single restraint on you.

It takes four hours before you’re ready to implement phase two of your plan. It’s well past dark and the snores next to you are loud enough to wake the dead. If you’re right, Travis is on watch.

He doesn’t have a chance.

You stretch with your back to him, rubbing at your eyes and feigning sleepiness. When you spot him you give a ‘surprised’ smile and move his direction with your pack. Setting it nearby you use it as a rest as you sit down.

“Got the short straw, huh?”

Travis nods, eyes focused on the fire and not the mile of thigh you may or may not be showing him. He seems like a good kid - awful line of work but a good kid. From the corner of your eye you note the Cowboy is watching you both, although he’s mercifully silent.

“Your back must be killing you,” you tell him softly. When he doesn’t reply you reach over and gently massage the back of his neck. “Oh wow, you’re so tense.”

“Gotta stay awake,” he finally mumbles and you tsk softly, moving behind him.

“Let me help with this, I’ll feel safer knowing you’re not in any pain.”

It doesn’t take a moment to find the artery you’re looking for, and Travis is in such a daze he doesn’t notice you’ve cut off the blood flow to his brain until it’s too late to fight back. You lay him down with careful hands, being sure not to let anything make noise as you do. You finish him with a shot of tranq.

“Nice work.”

Your eyes fly to the Cowboy and he’s giving you an approving smile. A quick check shows that the other two are still sleeping and you stand with your bag, debating what you might want to take.

“Take the kid’s gun,” he says quietly, “you’ll need it.”

Dammit he’s right.

You take the rifle and what ammunition you can find and turn to go before you hesitate. You glance back at the Cowboy and he quickly shakes his head.

“Don’t waste time on me, darlin’. Get yourself out of Dodge.”

With a nod you leave Cooper there, setting off into the darkness. You hadn’t killed the kid, although you probably should have, and the tranq was barely a few drops. Just what was left after Cooper had tranqed you. But it should buy you a half hour, maybe more.

It buys you a mile, give or take.

Sounds carries in the desert so when the men start shouting you can hear it echoing. A glance back at the fire shows shadows occasionally blocking it and you quicken your pace. As long as Cooper doesn’t give up your direction you should be fine til morning.

Were you terrible for leaving him behind?

You pause, staring off at the dark shape of the mountains. You didn’t owe him a damn thing, absolutely not. But also… you weren’t the kind of person to just leave people like that either.

Aren’t you? a tiny voice in your head mocks.

Visions of faces just like yours, racks of people waiting to be sold to the highest bidder. They were still there, at the facility. If you made it away Galen would just sell the next girl on the list. And the next. You were pretty sure he’d been alive since the bombs fell - who knew how long he could keep this all going.

Did you owe it to the women just like you to stop it?

Could you live with yourself if you didn’t?

With a heavy sigh you find a nearby rock and pull your feet up, waiting for the search party. It takes them a while, probably another two hours while you grow even firmer in your resolve. It’s Javier who eventually ‘sneaks’ up on you. Whacking you across the back of your head so hard you slam face first into the rock below.

Twice in two days, probably not good for you.

You come up with a curse, spitting out blood and tonguing at a tooth that feels loose. Hands immediately pull you to your feet, tying your wrists together behind your back and shoving you back towards the fire.

“Bitch,” he grunts and you try to get your wits back around you. What would you do if you were still running? How would you act?

“Please let me go,” you plead softly. “I’ll do anything.”

You stumble next to Javier as he drags you back towards the fire, hitting the dirt more than once with nothing to break your fall. He jerks you to your feet each time, muttering things to himself until you’re moving again.

“You telling me you didn’t see a damn thing?”

“I was sleeping, same as you,” Cooper’s voice drawls as you re-enter the firelight. He glances up at you and his jaw hardens. You know you must look a mess, you can taste blood and you’ve fallen face first to the ground more than once.

“There you are,” Bossman grunts, coming to stand in front of you. “Bet you thought you had us.”

Travis is nursing a black eye which you feel a little bad about. But you don’t say anything as they untie Cooper - who rubs at his wrists and gives them an assessing look - and then use those same ropes to truss you up. As they move away he takes a step closer, barely speaking above a whisper.

“How far d’you get?”

“Too far… not far enough.”

He grunts. “Lost the element of surprise now.”

“It’s fine,” you sigh, “I don’t need it.”

He turns to you with a fully quizzical look before someone’s voice calls out and he goes to sit nearer to the fire. But he watches you the rest of the night, eyes burning with unasked questions.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

#the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout series

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infiniteeight8 · 7 months ago

Note

Something with age difference and meeting again when the other is older or it could be magical.

(An additional Ask was sent to clarify that this is IronStrange.)

This is going to be very exposition-y. I got the idea and really liked it and there isn’t space to write it properly in a prompt response, but I like it enough that I don’t want to come up with a different response, either.

Looking up timelines for this got frustrating fast, so please just take any timeline weirdness as part of the AU. 😀

Tony has never told anyone—not Pepper, not Rhodey, not anyone—but he’s pretty sure he met the love of his life when he was 18.

It was a weird, liminal period of his life. His parents had just died, he’d graduated college but hadn’t been inducted into the company yet, and he was in that limbo between teenager and adult. Obadiah, for better or for worse, had been too tied up in stabilizing the company after Howard’s death to worry about Tony.

Tony had been very much at sea, and he probably would have gone unrecoverably off the rails if it hadn’t been for Stephen.

Stephen should have been the first of those unrecoverable decisions, really. He was twice Tony’s age, male, and apparently free of any responsibilities or ties of any kind. To any normal person, Stephen was a panoply of red flags.

To Tony, he’d been a safe harbor. Someone who would never turn him away and never judge him. Stephen was the one person Tony could say anything to without fear. Which wasn’t to say Stephen was a simpering yes-man. God, no. He could be acerbic as hell, and he didn’t hesitate to tell Tony when he was being an idiot. He also never left, no matter how much of an idiot Tony had been.

The end, when it came, hadn’t had anything to do with Tony. There are people looking for me, Stephen had said, and if they find me here, there will be terrible consequences. I can’t let that happen. My life would be… meaningless.

Tony had argued, of course. Had sworn up and down that he could protect Stephen. But he wasn’t twenty-one yet and didn’t have the resources or the clout he had now, especially not to protect a male lover back then. He doesn’t blame Stephen for not believing him. They had two years before Stephen was forced to vanish. Tony had always assumed he was running from the mob, or something like it.

Now, the words Keeper of the Time Stone ring in his ears as Tony stares at Stephen Strange. He’s younger than Tony, the gray at his temples less pronounced than it was before, his crow’s feet almost absent. It’s only a few years, but it’s a few years in the wrong direction; Stephen should have been almost twenty years older than Tony.

Somehow, Tony manages to shake his hand. “The Time Stone, huh?” he says. “I guess time travel must be just another Tuesday for you.”

Stephen chuckles. “Not at all. Time travel can have terrible consequences; it’s always a last resort.”

Terrible consequences.

A giddy feeling wells up inside Tony. He met the love of his life at 18, but the love of his life hasn’t met him yet.

The relationship never ended, it just hadn’t started yet.

#IronStrange #age difference #ficlet

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violetmuses · 3 months ago

Text

72 Hours - A. Aretas 💥 ❤️‍🩹

Title: 72 Hours - A. Aretas 💥❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Mike catches Armando “sneaking” back home one night.

====

2024

Returning to the Lowrey household, Armando Aretas walks through his own mindset, but this guy still moves enough for the next morning.

Armando shouldered his cell phone while entering this home and chatting with someone.

You exchanged numbers at the club and safely took public vehicles back.

“Are you back home yet? I'm settled.” You questioned Aretas just to be sure. Miami pulled wild shit all the time.

“Yeah, gotta keep my voice down, though. Mike's asleep.” Armando tried whispering, but his accented English only rasped toward you.

“No, I'm not.” One familiar greeting encourages Armando to pause.

Detective Mike Lowrey, Armando's biological father, turned on the foyer lights and crossed both arms, smirking.

“Oh, shit. Hold up. Sorry, but I need to go. I'll just call you another time ” Armando offered one of his last chances.

“Uh, damn. Well okay. Thanks for tonight. Bye, Armando.” Your sweet tone quietly breaks his heart when you end the call.

“Gimme your phone.” Mike gestured his hand once Armando silenced.

Because Lowrey pushed through Armando's earlier wrath, devices irked him.

Armando hands over his cell phone and sits in the living room, waiting.

Bingo! Mike scored the jackpot.

Pictures, videos, phone calls, and text messages all lined up his son's night.

“Fun.” Armando wouldn't make eye contact with Mike.

“Who called you?” Mike questioned his son about the phone number log. “Is it the same girl in your pictures?”

“Yeah. We hung up with each other when you caught me.” Armando said.

Scrolling again, Mike noticed everything. Aretas mostly took pictures after dancing with you.

"Tan hermosa.” Armando flirted in Spanish during one of these videos and angled the camera while standing behind you. Strobe lights flickered.

“Look. Do whatever you want, but don't be stupid. Good night.” Mike returned Armando's phone and headed back upstairs, finally trying to sleep.

Once the coast stood clear again, Aretas opened another text message thread for you.

Armando: He's gone. 🩶

You: Who? 👀

Armando: My father. ❤️‍🩹

You: Bad moment? 🥺

Armando: It's complicated. 😬

You: Ouch. 😥

Armando: Already miss you. 😞

You: Aww. Miss you, too. 💋

Armando: Good night, mami. 😘

You: Good night.🥰

_______

“Don't smile too much this morning. I just told my partner about your phone.” The next day, Mike ratted Armando out to Marcus!

Snitch! Aretas thought.

“Marcus will be here soon.” Mike continued. “Go ahead and finish your breakfast.”

If it wasn't for Mike's wife Christine, Armando would've left the house.

______

“Armando! You might not kill people anymore, but don't act buck-wild like your father!” Marcus pulled with chaos, upset. “Read books or something.”

“Marcus, now you're overreacting.” Mike wanted to ease the situation.

“No, the hell I'm not!” Marcus kept going. “This motherfucker pulled his trigger for a video and put you in the hospital!”

“Marcus!” Even Christine defended Armando by this point.

“Stay paranoid, Mike!” Burnett just told Lowrey the truth. “We cleared Captain Howard's name, but you still died in front of me because of Armando.”

“Stop it.” Mike stepped in.

“No, listen to me. Armando saving Callie doesn't free him, either. One bad night could put your son back in prison, Mike. Watch his ass. I'm outta here.”

Marcus walked away, leaving the house.

“Maybe I should plan to leave if you don't even trust me.” Aretas grumbled from the kitchen table.

“I trust you, man.” Mike then offered his true words.

“Not enough to defend me.” Armando shook his head. “You just let him talk shit.”

Pissed off, grabbed car keys to the Porsche and rolled out, calling you.

#movies #jacob scipio #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life #bad boys #armando aretas x reader #armando aretas #armando #armando x reader #angst #strong language #fanfic #fanfiction

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hotvintagepoll · 8 months ago

Text

FINAL POLL OF ROUND 1

Propaganda

Hedy Lamarr (Samson and Delilah, Ziegfeld Girl)—Look. I'm sure someone has already submitted Hedy Lamarr because she was spectacularly beautiful, and a very strong lady too: she fled both an abusive marriage AND nazi persecution at a very young age and rebuilt a life for herself pursuing her love for acting all on her own!! Her career as an actress was stellar; while she began acting outside of Hollywood (her very first movie, Ecstasy, won a prize at the Venice Film Festival), she conquered American hearts very quickly with her first movie in the US, Algiers, and then just kept getting better and better. If all this isn't enough, she was also an inventor: her invention of the frequency-hopping spread spectrum radio transmission technique forms the base of bluetooth and has a lot of applications in all kinds of communication technologies. I think that deserves a prize, don't you?

Sonja Henie (Thin Ice, Happy Landing)—no idea if she counts, she's a famous skater more than anything else, but count her for the lols and i'll send you some thin mints

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Hedy Lamarr:

The only person you can find both on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and in the Inventor's Hall of Fame--her radio-frequency-hopping technology forms the basis for cordless phones, wi-fi, and a dozen other aspects of modern life. She was also passionate in her efforts to aid the Allies in WWII (unsurprising for a Jewish-Austrian Emigree to America), and her name served as the backbone for one of the best running jokes in what is possibly Mel Brooks' best movie. Look, Louis B. Mayer apparently believed he could plausibly promote her as "The world's most beautiful woman". Is an entire website full of people going to be less audacious than one Louis B. Mayer? I didn't think so!

Described as "Hedy has the most incredible personal sophistication. She knows the peculiarly European art of being womanly; she knows what men want in a beautiful woman, what attracts them, and she forces herself to be these things. She has magnetism with warmth, something that neither Dietrich nor Garbo has managed to achieve" by Howard Sharpe, she managed to escape her controlling husband (and Nazi Germany) by a) Disguising as her maid and fleeing to Paris or b) Convincing the husband to let her wear all of her jewelry to a dinner, only to disappear afterwards. Also she was particularly clever and helped develop Frequency-Hopping Spread Spectrum (I can't really explain it but anyway...)

One of the most beautiful women ever in film, spoken by many critics and fans. Beautiful shapely figure, deeper seductive voice, and often played femme fatale roles. She was also brilliant and an inventor. Mainly self-taught, she invested her spare time, including on set between takes, in designing and drafting inventions, which included an improved traffic stoplight and a tablet that would dissolve in water to create a flavored carbonated drink, and much more.

Her depiction of Delilah and Samson and Delilah just lives rent free in my head. The woman was gorgeous.

Gorgeous and brilliant pioneer of modern technology and the middle part.

#sonja henie #hedy lamarr #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 1 #ALL POSTS UP HOORAY

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physalian · 3 months ago

Text

List of “I need to calm the fuck down” music

(please reblog your own)

Most Trance Music if this list is intimidating- Usually not something you dance to, doesn’t have a lot of percussion and erratic noise. It’s supposed to entrance you.

This list spans the following genres: Pop, folk, grunge, cinematic, and rock.

Maybe I’ll make a Spotify playlist or something with all of them, idk. These are not in alphabetical order but I tried to keep multiple artist entries grouped.

I had the whole thing color-coded but Tumblr didn't like that so here's it in boring text (I still have the colored one if anyone wants it)

WITH LYRICS

Good for Me - Above & Beyond

On a Good Day - Above & Beyond

Blue Sky Action - Above & Beyond

The Hollywood Bowl Show - Above & Beyond

I Love You Always Forever - Donna Lewis

I Will Follow You Into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie

Through the Eyes of a Child - AURORA

Retrograde - Pearl Jam

Run Boy Run - Woodkid

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

Would That I - Hozier

After All These Years- Journey

Let it All Go - Birdy

Holocene - Bon Iver

Home I/II - Dotan

Outro - M83

Flares - The Script

O - Coldplay

Fly On - Coldplay

Strawberry Swing - Coldplay

Midnight - Coldplay

Lovers in Japan (Acoustic) - Coldplay

Clocks - Coldplay

Every Teardrop is a Waterfall - Coldplay

Up & Up - Coldplay

Fix You - Coldplay

Oceans - Seafret

Dice - Finley Quaye

Medicine - Daughter

Wash Away - Joe Purdy

Upside Down - Jack Johnson

Heartbeats - Jose Gonzales

Teardrop - Massive Attack

I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For - U2

Where the Streets Have No Name - U2

Beyond the Sea - Bobby Darin

Life is a Highway - Rascal Flatts

Something I Need - OneRepublic

Dead in the Water - Ellie Goulding

Mr. Brightside - The Killers

Morning Elvis - Florence + The Machine

End of Love - Florence + The Machine

What the Water Gave Me - Florence + The Machine

Sky Full of Song - Florence + The Machine

Free - Florence + The Machine

Choreomania - Florence + The Machine

Walls - Kings of Leon

While My Guitar Gently Weeps - Tom Petty/Prince

Silver Spring - Fleetwood Mac

Big Love - Fleetwood Mac

Landslide - Fleetwood Mac

Everywhere - Fleetwood Mac

Don’t Look Back in Anger - Oasis

The Albatross - Taylor Swift

The Archer - Taylor Swift

You’re On Your Own Kid - Taylor Swift

Clean - Taylor Swift

On My Way - Phil Collins

Hoppipolla - Sigur Ros

I Shall Not Walk Alone - The Blind Boys of Alabama

Send Me On My Way - Rusted Root

Manic - Cloves

Dorian - Agnes Obel

Down to Earth - Peter Gabriel

Shine On You Crazy Diamond I-IV - Pink Floyd

On the Turning Away - Pink Floyd

High Hopes - Pink Floyd

Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd

Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd

Take it Back - Pink Floyd

November Rain - Guns n’ Roses

Breathe Me - Sia

They’ll Soon Discover - The Shins

Just a Kid - Wilco

Evenstar - Howard Shore

Just Like Heaven - The Cure

Angela - The Lumineers

Scotland - The Lumineers

Nobody Knows - The Lumineers

Sleep on the Floor - The Lumineers

The Ink from Books - Sleeping at Last

Lightning Crashes - Live

Disarm - The Smashing Pumpkins

Glitter in the Air - P!nk

Silhouette - Aquilo

Water Under the Bridge - Adele

Golden Hour Album - Kygo

Stole the Show - Kygo

Wake Me Up - Avicii

Heaven - Avicii

Hope There’s Someone - Avicii

Fade Into You - Mazzy Star

WITHOUT LYRICS

Flow State (Continuous Mix) - Above & Beyond

Memory Gospel - Moby

Immanuel - Tony Anderson

Define Dancing - Thomas Newman

Haiku/Nemo Egg - Thomas Newman

American Beauty - Thomas Newman

Chasing Ice - J. Ralph

One Day - Hans Zimmer

Thunderbird/The Decision - Hans Zimmer

1917 - Thomas Newman

The Mighty Rio Grande - This Will Destroy You

The Minecraft OST - C418

The World of Goo OST - Kyle Gabler

Tessa - Imagine Dragons

Forbidden Friendship - John Powell

Experience - Ludovico Einaudi

The Aviators - Helen Jane Long

Once There Was A Hush Puppy - Benh Zeitlin

On the Nature of Daylight - Max Richter

The Beginning - Factor 8

End of An Era - Zach Hemsey

I Walk With Ghosts - Scott Buckley

The Chasing Coral OST - Dan Romer

The Luca OST - Dan Romer

Arrival to Earth - Steve Jablonsky

Tower of Joy - Ramin Djawadi

Light of the Seven - Ramin Djawadi

Into a Nighttime Sky - Jeremy Zuckerman

Greatest Change - Jeremy Zuckerman

Your Hand in Mine/Home - Explosions in the Sky

Ori, Lost in the Storm - Gareth Coker

Arrival of the Birds - Cinematic Orchestra

Fireflies - Mychael & Jeff Danna

Across the Stars - John Williams

The Soul OST - Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross

The Queen’s Gambit OST - Carlos Rafael Rivera

#music #study music #writing music #reblog to save a life

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acapelladitty · 6 months ago

Text

make ourselves like clay (from someone else's dream)

Pairing: Cooper Howard/Lucy Maclean

Summary: Lucy discovers an old movie poster in a decrepit bar and happens to notice something 'interesting' about the main actor (AKA Lucy discovers Cooper's past as a film star). (2.9k words)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

As far as negotiations went, Cooper had been more than reasonable, given the circumstances, as he attempted to exchange some caps for the chem he needed. Hell, he was even offering a fair enough price as his stash ran low and the constant irritation of having to source new shit pressed at his attentions like a tick burrowing under his skin.

"It's a good deal, boys, and I ain't some fucking housewife who's gonna forget the value of a thing just because some handsome fellas like yourselves are talking to her."

"Listen, mutant-"

"Oh, I listen much better when we're all being respectful now." Cooper interrupted, his voice airy in a very dangerous way. "My associate and I are being nothing but gracious in these here talks."

Having quickly learned it was better to shut up when Cooper was leading a deal, Lucy instead focused on the second dealer as he pulled his attention from the ghoul to focus on her instead.

Since entering, his attention hadn't ever strayed too far from her; flitting beyween her face and her chest as he stared her out. It was repulsive and, given her recent troubles, the focus made her skin itch with discomfort as ghostly memories of harsh hands washed over her.

"Hey!" The dealer spoke to her, voice low and conversational but still loud enough for the other parties to hear him clearly enough. Reaching across the table, he flashed a smile in Lucy's direction as he reached for her arm with a grime-ridden hand. "Just so you know, whatever the mutant here is paying you for a fuck, I'll pay double, and you can enjoy the feeling of a real man agai-"

A sharp scream cut the dealers words off in his throat as a flash of movement saw Cooper introducing the heft of his knife into the back of his approaching hand, pinning the offending limb to the rickety wooden table as only an inch of the blade stood free of his patchy skin.

Chaos reigned for only a few precious seconds as the lead dealer pulled his own weapon free of his pocket - the small, rusted pistol not a patch on the enhanced gun which Cooper was pointing back at his head, accuracy unmistakable as his fingers held still and didn't falter in the slightest.

His hand mauled and bleeding profusely as scarlet dripped freely to the floor, the offending dealer appeared to almost be in shock as his screams died to quick-fire profanities and sharp gasps.

"You fuck! Danny, he fucking stabbed me! Look- look at this shit! My fucking hand, man. Ain't no stimpacks here to fix this, Dan!"

Hand never leaving the hilt of his knife, Cooper tutted out his disapproval as he twisted the blade slightly to draw a fresh cry from his pinned prey.

"The way I see it," Cooper spoke calmly over the screams as his attention never strayed from the leader he were standing off with, "you can tell your man to apologise to the lady or I'll twist this knife until his hand is so mangled even the mutts won't want it. Then I'll cut what's left of his fingers off and shove them down his fucking throat."

Dan, the leader, took the open threat in stride as he held up his palms in a vaguely placating way, a smile not covering the panic in his eyes.

"Okay folks, let's not let things get out of hand. If you let him go, I'll agree to the terms and give you what you want."

Satisfied with that, Cooper pulled the knife free with a raised browbone as he passed it off to Lucy - allowing her to hold the bloodstained blade while his other hand extended out to receive his much needed chem.

"See that, vaultie." Clicking his tongue against his teeth as the vials were gently placed into his palm, Cooper tilted his head enough to the side to catch Lucy's eye. "That's how we deal with dumb fucking manners up here."

More desensitised to the violence than she would like to admit, Lucy rolled her eyes at him as a secret pleasure blossomed in her gut that he had been so quick to defend her. Since their run-in with the human traffickers, his attitude hadn't shifted much - staying as dry and unforgiving as ever - but she had noticed a slight improvement in his rougher edges when it came to any physical touch between them as his hands were noticably more gentle.

And by more gentle, she meant that if he needed her to move he would pull her sharply rather than his previous choice which felt more akin to trying to rip her arm out of its socket. But, improvement was improvement and she respected that by playing her part in moments like this.

He never spoke about the incident, never asked any follow up questions, but the violence he had enacted towards the other half of the traffickers as they descended on their small camp had frightened her as much as it pleased that hateful voice inside her that wanted them to suffer.

She got her wish, that much was clear, and whatever guilt she would have felt was swept away as they later stumbled on the corpses of the 'product' they weren't able to shift. Rotting corpses, some with their hair still intact, all piled nude in a makeshift grave a short walk away from their camp.

Cooper hadn't commented, aside from a slight downturn of his lips, and Lucy was too busy retching off to the side to notice anything else.

That's how we deal with dumb fucking manners up here.

Because of course it was.

x-x-x-x-x

Deal concluded, exploring what remained of the little abandoned town was the last port of call before Cooper demanded that they both moved forward with their goals. The dealers, having slunk off on their merry way, didn't seem to pay them any more mind and Lucy was thankful for it as she entered the swing doors of a building, immediately seeing a bar-like setup.

"Hello?"

Allowing the word to float across the room and recieve no answer, Lucy quickly stepped inside and started looking around. Dust covered almost everything, spreading a thick mat of filth across the various bits of broken furniture, and her mouth settled into a line as she headed straight for the bar. Looking below the shelves, broken bottles littered the wood, the alcohol and liquids within having long since gone rotted or evaporated away so she ignored them for now.

Glancing at the floor, a shattered poster lay, half-tucked beneath a snapped floorboard and her fingers snatched it up out of sheer curiosity. Blowing a plume of dust free, she cleaned what remained with the sharp point of her elbow.

It was a movie poster, framed and practically preserved. The top half almost spotless - the lower half was torn away, the shattered glass having allowed it to weather with time and take any information about the image with it. Looking at the upper part in more detail, it showed a man sitting atop a bale of hay and Lucy peered closely at it.

A tan cowboy hat sat across his head, tilting up towards the sun in the background as a pistol hung lazily between the actors fingers. The words "High Noon Rodeo" were the only pieces of writing visible and they blazed across the top of the poster in a curled red font. A cowboy film. One that she hadn't heard of or seen before, not that the limited showings of old movies that her vault showed as entertainment gave her any kind of general understanding, but she knew well enough to know it was a cowboy film.

Eyes falling to the main actor again, Lucy hummed quietly as she brought the poster closer to her face. He was handsome, that was for sure. Dark hair spilled from a proud forehead, and while his expression was very serious and foreboding, there was an intenseness to his gaze that enthralled her. The clothing was fitted and muted, the colours matching the dusky background well, but her attention kept slipping back to the man's face - a tickle of something familiar knocking at her thoughts.

"Whatcha got there, vaultie?"

Startling with a yelp, Lucy whirled in place to find that Cooper had snuck up on her; his impressive size apparently not that difficult to conceal as he slithered around like a cobra, ready to strike.

"Movie poster." She answered with a smile, excited to share her findings. "Look." She held the poster up between them, careful to splay her fingers to avoid the worst of the shattered glass.

Cooper may have been good as hiding his feelings, but he wasn't completely immune to the odd slip, and surprise widened his eyes and slackened his mouth before his brain caught up with him and he settled his features into a familiar scowl.

"And?" He asked, tone short and irritated. "What good is that shit to us? Came to find you in a bar and I was hoping you were gonna show me a bottle of something I could throw down my throat. Fucking useless bit of tat you have there."

Crestfallen at the sudden aggression in his attitude, Lucy thrust the picture closer towards him as she silently entreated him to look again.

"He's handsome."

A hot discomfort trailed across Cooper's skin as Lucy unwittingly appraised him, a familiar feeling of the world being a giant practical joke on him settling across his shoulders while he rocked on his heels.

"Like I give a fuck about that, but sure, in a way. They don't make 'em like that anymore."

"Have you seen this before? I know you've been around since the bombs went off and you know more about this stuff than I do." Excited, Lucy couldn't hold back her enthusiasm as her wide eyes and batting eyelashes did everything they could to entice him into spilling some knowledge of which she was utterly ignorant. "C'mon, please?"

With an annoyed growl, Cooper met her gaze with his own, holding her eye to show her just how serious he was as he exhaled slowly, as though speaking to someone with mush for brains.

"Put that shit down."

Stupidly brave as ever, Lucy held his eye but Cooper was quick to realise his mistake in allowing her to do so as her brow furrowed for a moment before dropping to the poster and then back to him.

A horrible feeling of realisation trickling down his spine, Cooper visibly flinched as a pitched cry slipped free of Lucy's lips and her hands raised the framed poster so it sat by his face.

"Oh my goodness!" Blinking rapidly as her body seemed to vibrate with her discovery, Lucy grinned. "Holy moly! It's you! This is you! Cooper! The eyes are the same."

An intrusive thought pushed its way into Cooper's considerations as his minds eye conjured up images of just knocking her flat out with the butt of his pistol and leaving her to awaken. When out, he could hide the poster and do his best to convince her that the radiation was finally getting to her head. But, knowing Lucy Maclean, that dipshit brain of hers wouldn't let it go, even under trauma.

"Quite the insightful little vaultie." He countered with an unpleasant smile. "Where's all these brains been hiding at?"

"What was it like?" Still positively thrumming with joy, Lucy couldn't sense the danger in the air as she continued on. "I've seen pictures of the old days, before the war, and it all looked so pretty and bright. You were a movie star! Wow! And so handsome."

Babbling, Cooper waited for her to finish before catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger. The touch steadied her, stalling her words as those big eyes rounded on him.

"It was a miserable fucking experience." He offered, voice so low and intimate that Lucy visibly held her breath to make sure she didn't miss a word. "Nothing but shit and lies. Traitors ready to stab you in the back at the first chance, their knives always out and ready to take another shot as you got back up to your knees. Nothing but a flock of circle jerkers ready to fuck you over at the first get."

The delight in her expression dimming with every passing word, Lucy's eyes grew - if possible - even rounder as she held her ground and let him speak.

"You think this life is bad, sweetheart? You still got so much to learn and I aint a teacher."

His mind lost to the echoes of a previous life, one filled with pain and betrayal - the moments of joy soured by what was to come as he lost everything from his career to his family - it wasn't until Lucy whimpered that he realised just how tightly he was gripping her chin.

Releasing her without apology, Cooper took the poster from her hands and dropped it to the floor; taking great satisfaction in the sound of smashing glass as the last few shards splintered off and skittered across the floor like insects. He turned from her then, a heat in his chest making him angry with himself as he feared he had said too much, and he started to storm off, ready to leave this shithole of a town behind.

"I'm sorry." Her apology were soft, the words carrying despite how small her voice sounded, and he turned to face her once more.

Standing amongst the debris, Cooper felt his irritation spike once more as he took in the sight of her. Even just holding her ground there, her clothing stained and as grimy as his own, she shone like a beacon - her goddamn naive innocence making her stand out from the shit and decay that had rotted and engulfed everything else it touched.

He had been cruel to her. That innocence, amusing at it was upon first meeting, made her a prime candidate for being torn to shreds by the new world she had entered. So necessity had dictated that he be cruel, using her for his own gain as he antagonised her with a sick curiosity; a wicked desire to see just how far the vaultie could be pushed before she either broke under the pressure or adapted to survive.

She was a lost cause until she snapped his finger off with her teeth. There he saw it. That little spark of steel that would see her do what she needed to survive. If she hadn't inadvertently fucked his entire supply of drugs, then he might even have been tempted to keep her for longer until something more pressing came along.

But no, he had sold her and he didn't regret it.

Not even when he lay in his stupor and watched as she dropped the vials of chem by his side, keeping as true to her golden rule as he did to his own.

Lucy Maclean.

A vaultie who wasn't afraid to rip a man's tongue out with her teeth or split his throat when necessity asked for it.

And here she was, apologising for asking him a few questions, the guilt on her face making the small voice within him that still criticised his more monstrous actions feel like shit for grabbing her so roughly.

The Ghoul would treat a woman like that, Cooper Howard, not so much.

"Sorry for what? Asking some questions?" He tilted his head at her, regarding her once more before continuing to leave. "Save apologies for the things that matter, sweetie." He shouted over his shoulder.

Allowing him a slight headstart as her mind whirled with what the hell had just happened, Lucy pushed down the guilt she felt at how badly he had reacted to being reminded of his former life. She hadn't thought about it. About how painful it must be to have something nice and then end up...well, end up like him.

Dropping to one knee, she carefully pulled the poster free of the now-fully shattered frame. Her finger were dexterous as they ripped the paper, a ragged line tearing across the poster until all that remained was the image of the cowboy.

Cooper.

Lucy folded the paper carefully and slipped it within her pocket, a wicked sense of naughtiness making her smile as she kept her little secret away from her grumpy companion.

Maybe one day she'd ask him more about it.

Especially since, despite the mutations and the attitude that was utterly grim, she could still see the lingering handsomeness in his face. The missing nose was easily looked past and his face, as pitted and marked as the rugged landscape which held true on every nearby horizon, still held much of the same shape.

And the eyes.

She'd asked him for sex once, hasn't asked since, and one of the leading factors in that choice had been his eyes - the intensity of them having left her a shuddering mess on more than once occasion as she found herself pinned by his glance alone.

Staring at the exit which Cooper had recently vacated through, Lucy attempted to shove the thoughts from her mind as she made a quick start to scarper after him - not trusting the ghoul to wait for her for too long.

Links to the rest of the series:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

#hes a little bastard but man am i fond #fallout #lucy maclean #cooper howard #ghoulcy #ghoucy #vaultghoul #cooper x lucy #ghoul x lucy #cooper howard x lucy maclean #fallout 2024 fic #cooper howard fic #lucy maclean fic #ella purnell #walton goggins

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