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bisexualiteaa · 9 months ago

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actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want

A Flame in Your Heart

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader

AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.

#fallout x reader #fallout smut #fallout #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #sole survivor #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #asks

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of-many-aus · 2 years ago

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I’m thinking of doing a Survivor AU

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ripleyfilms · 1 month ago

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it’s a good day to be a lesbian and a rhea ripley fan

#rhea ripley #wwe #women of wwe #monday night raw #monday night mami #rhea ripley x reader #wwe survivor series

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eupheme · 11 months ago

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— Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On

Hancock (FO4) x Sole Survivor!F!Reader

Rated E - 5.8k

Tags - 3rd person very loose pov, sole survivor!f!reader (no descriptors), canon-typical raider violence & death, mutual pining, teasing, partners to lovers, two idiots in love, waiting out a storm, mention of food/eating, SS!reader gets dicked down wearing Hancock’s coat, the hat stays on, fingering, oral (f receiving), spitting, manual restraints, multiple orgasms, PiV, creampie, mention of a cigarette/smoking, references to chems

started this while doing research for wasteland, baby - and was consumed with thoughts of a slightly softer “oh fuck, I’m in love” Hancock

It’s a dangerous thing - to have feelings for the person you’re traveling with. Too many things can go wrong in an instant and yet… here they are. Steadfastly ignoring the something that has been building, thick enough to taste.

Luckily, an incoming rad storm might just be the push they need.

He’s fucked.

Figuratively, not literally. Unfortunately.

That’s part of the problem, if he could call it that. And he probably shouldn’t - because it’s not her fault. Just his.

It was a rookie move, falling for his traveling companion. Should have kept it just professional - strictly business. No ‘get to know you’s, no inside jokes.

But he had never been the professional type. Not his style.

And somewhere along the way - between getting the shit kicked out of them, the close calls, the long miles of barren road - something had started to grow. Curling around his ribs and filling his guts up like ripe tarberries.

Letting it grow and flourish.

Unable to shake it.

It hadn’t been long before he had known something was up.

That it was something besides that urge to get away from it all, to wander, that kept him sticking with her.

That along the way, the idea of this stranger having his back became comforting. That he knew he had hers - even if he half-thinks she have a death wish, with the way she rushs into things half-cocked.

He can’t understand, but he tries. The bits he’s gleaned from late nights - passing the bottle of whisky back and forth even though it makes her grimace. The pieces of her past that have slowly been revealed, forming a half-completed picture.

It’s enough to make his blood boil, that scorching feeling of vengeance curling in his chest, eating up his insides. It’s been a long time since he felt that way - making him think back to the night where he had stained his hands with all that red.

He’d do it again, for her.

It’s that realization made him think that just maybe - he cares.

And not just in a friendly kind of way.

He thinks it began in the middle of a firefight.

Bullet whizzing past their heads. A nest of raiders flowing out from a jutting wreck of scaffolding they had missed.

Several downed already, lost among the ruins. A souped-up pistol in her hand, as the other shielded shrapnel from a hand-made grenade.

Missing the two that snuck up, flanking them.

He had taken one down. A nasty shot to the gut, the Raider gurlging as his legs gave out. Her shot going wide - he can still remember the look on her face as she reached for the gun on her back.

The other Raider taking the moment to bowl him over, a padded shoulder to the chest. Knocking them both against a piece of metal fencing that creaked under their weight - his shotgun clattering to the pavement.

An arm pressed against his throat, choking him - as the other fumbled for a knife. Ironic, he thought, that he’d be gutted, after all he’s done.

But she had swooped down. Fingers twisted around the barrel and forestock of her rifle. Bringing it down on the raiders head like it was a louisville slugger, snarling like she herself had gone feral.

Her hand, warm in his as she hauled him up, the other splaying across his chest. Face streaked with grease and splattered with blood but in that moment, she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

“Thanks, sunshine.” He had murmured.

Her smile had been small, as she pressed the gun back into his hand, “Can’t have you getting stabbed. I’d miss that mouth of yours.”

Such a small thing - her own joke. The way he filled the space with chatter on the road. But he’d been smitten.

He had been good looking, before. He wasn’t half-bad now. Charisma could get you a long way, and his silver tongue hadn’t rotted like the rest of him.

Charming words - flirty and sometimes filthy - slid easily from him in the heat of battle, the wind-down after. When he was feeling good about things, the words coming without thought.

Choking on them, when she turned to give him a look - embarrassed, sometimes. So goddamn cute and flustered, it made him want to do it more.

Other times - a look, that was soft and lingering.

“Yeah?”

Almost a challenge in the way she said it.

He could never follow it up.

Follow through.

Because back home, it wasn’t an issue. A rejection meant nothing other than a soft blow to his ego. Brushed off with a hit of a favorite indulgence, finding company in another.

But here - it had a weight. It could ruin something he truly has enjoyed. Throwing in with her had been one of the best decisions he had made. He couldn’t fuck that up. Not this time.

So he swallowed his words - before she was racing off, and he was following at her heels. Off to trouble that could be their last, and here he was - that clever tongue tied in a knot.

That’s when he knew that he had it bad.

Bad enough that out of the two of them, he had been the one peering up at the sky overhead. Where the muted hazy grey was rolling into a sickly green, rain starting to drop down. A rumble of thunder.

The first to suggest stopping at the next place they could, as the spaces between the raindrops started to dwindle.

“We can make it.” She had shrugged, as his jog slowed to a walk.

Catching her arm at the elbow, gesturing with the muzzle of his shotgun to the side.

“Not if you don’t want to end up like me, sister.”

Ignoring - but not missing - the chastising look she shot him. His head tilting towards the roof that looms just over the ridge.

An old diner - rusting chrome and shattered windows, but it would do. Well past soaked by the time they scrambled over the hill and down. Grateful to find that it was abandoned.

Picked over, for sure - but as long as there was a roof over their heads, he hadn’t cared. Combing through junk was her thing, anyways. He was just the pack mule.

Now - he’s multi-tasking. Trying not to think about what he’s thinking about.

About her changing in the room behind him. Peeling the patchwork raider gear off her curves. All that soft, smooth skin underneath.

Distracting himself by eyeing the radroach that is skittering across the pavement outside the front door - just out of range of his shotgun.

Because of course, out of everything in the wasteland, that was the thing she was scared of. Not super mutants, not even the pack of mirelucks that had them cornered, just the week before.

A goddamn bug.

He laughs, a soft hushed thing. Catching himself with a grimace.

Because, like he said.

He’s fucked.

The rain that patters overhead would be calming - if it had been 200 years ago, and not dripping with radiation.

She shivers, draping the tattered pants and worn shirt over the back of two rotting, wooden chairs - a makeshift drying rack. Missing that insulated warmth of her Vault Suit, trading it back at Sanctuary for worn clothes - old and salvaged Raider gear.

It had become hard to blend in, in all that blue.

It had made sense at the time, but in the dark and chilly backroom, she finds herself regretting it. Thinking that next time - she’ll pack it with her.

Trying to find the dampest parts of the packed gear to lay out, next. Lining up the bedroll next to the glow of the lantern.

Don’t need any more must or mold than there already was.

Pawing through her bag afterwards, coming up with something to pass for dinner. A can of cram, their only good fork wedged between two knuckles. A sweet roll split in two - the sticky crumbs clinging to her fingers as she nudged the door open.

Feeling vulnerable in the faded undergarments she wore underneath. Dreading facing him, not because of what he’ll say - that part, she is actually curious to hear.

She’d given up on the idea of modesty long ago. Traveling on the road and through the dirt and blood and grime will do that.

It was almost freeing.

No. It’s because - it makes her hope. Makes her think that dressing down might actually get him to notice her, in a way that’s more than the surface-level, flirty conversation she’s seen him have with dozens of people.

In the old world, maybe she’d wear a dress for him. Something red and cut low in the front - bare arms and legs.

Now, it’s faded cotton and vulnerability.

A “I can trust you like this” and a “Maybe if you like it, it will make me brave enough to ask.”

Rejection dressed like this would sting, surely. Even if it’s her fault, for having a crush on someone who doesn’t see her that way.

Her eyes linger on his back, where he stands watch. Where he hadn’t heard her open the door just yet, drifting to the other side of the counter to watch the rumbling, green storm roll in.

The tin clatters on the counter, drawing his attention. A flicker of lightning illuminating his profile as he turns, eyes widening.

Hancock’s eyes drop automatically. Quickly and then a slow drag - it’s like watching him after she’s taken a hit of Psycho.

Dark and glittering under her own careful watch, before they’re snapping back up, and he’s blinking.

Pulling himself back.

“Is that dinner?” He asks, clearing his throat when the words come out rough and low.

Her face falls, just for an instant. A small smile replacing it, as she scoops up the tin of cram before tossing it his way. He catches it neatly - popping the lid open, plucking the fork from her fingers.

She should have known better.

Hancock was just a flirt, never taking her bait. It was a good thing, she thought. Honorable, despite the grey that’s soaked into both of their moral codes.

He digs the fork in, breaking off a piece of the preserved meat. Handing the first bite to her, unable to help another quick look as he lowers himself to one of the stools that curves around the diner countertop.

Not that he hasn’t seen her before. Never quite this bare - but close enough, from the quick times they’ve had to change clothes.

It didn’t mean anything.

“So uh, what’s with the getup?” Hancock can’t resist asking, his tone deceptively light, “Or should I say, lack thereof?

“Clothes are soaked,” She snorts around the mouthful, trying to sound disinterested, “Besides, you’re always telling me it’s not good to let the rads soak in.”

He’s curious now, catching that slight edge. Not usually so defensive - that expression she makes when she’s flustered. It makes him want to nudge at it, poke at that little crack.

“Hey, you don’t hear me complain’, sister.” Hancock grins, taking the fork back, “That’s a real good look for you.”

Always a joke.

Her eyes roll as she sits down on the stool to his left, her knee knocking against his. The halves of sweet roll balanced on the curling, discarded tin, for after.

They share the makeshift dinner. Passing the fork back and forth, trying not to think about how easy it feels to be like this.

Companionable silence, beneath the rumbling, dark green sky. Tucked away and sheltered from the storm.

She stares out across the wasteland, lost in thought. Moving on to other things, already planning for the morning. If there’s any stops they need to make on the way back to Sanctuary.

While his eyes wander - a sideways glance that drifts down her form greedily, only to shift away when her own lift.

A breeze cuts through the building where windows once lived, making her shiver. Arms moving from the countertop to wrap around a bare middle, curling in on herself.

“You cold, sunshine?” He asks with concern, bringing her back.

She hadn’t noticed, but now she does. The chill starting to sink in, now that she’s not moving, not covered in the layers and padded armor.

Goosebumps raise on her skin. Arms crossing tighter across her chest, as her lips part to answer.

But Hancock is already shrugging off his maroon frock, swiveling in his seat to swing it around her shoulders.

She rarely seen him without it. Fuck, he even sleeps in the damn thing - a prized possession, if he ever had one.

“Thanks.” The word is layered with sincerity, as she pulls it close around her, the high collar brushing her cheek.

Warmer already. The inside is soft against her skin, the fabric worn and stained and smelling like him.

Silence lingers for a moment, as they stare at the darkening sky. The heavy blanket of rain that still patters on the rooftop, a slow drip down to the tile floor on the other side of the room.

"Hope this lets up by morning," She says as she leans, warmer now - elbows pressing into the stained laminate counter.

Eyes out of focus, thoughts already running off without her. "Stop by Sanctuary, pick up some things for Tenpines. Haven't been there in a bit, been wondering how they've been holding up."

He mirrors her - feeling bare without his coat. A heavy lean on his left elbow, the swivel of the chair bumping his knee against hers, "’m sure they're fine. Gotta be better off than they were before."

A smirk crosses his features, a glance from the corner of his eye, "'Sides, not every day you get saved by the fearless leader of the Minutemen. That oughta keep 'em going for a while."

There's a groan as she slumps, the heels of her hands pressing into her eyes. Garvey's enthusiasm and her recent promotion to General a source of embarrassment, even if she bore the weight of it well.

"Yes, the fearless leader," She mocks, her head turning his way. Pushing herself up, her arms spreading wide, "If only they could see me now."

And they might not be able to, but he can.

Not just the soft expanse of her skin, peeking out from beneath his coat. The hollow of her throat, the curve of her breast and the strain of her tits against worn fabric that will be forever seared into his mind.

Not only just that, though. That something that he can see inside her - that was there when he had decided to leave Goodneighbor. That lingers with him, tethering them together as he follows at her side. And yes, he does stretch the truth - who doesn’t? He wouldn’t make half as many deals, otherwise.

But he’s isn’t, now.

She is unaware of the thoughts that tumble through his mind, quick as old snapshots. A curling amber film strip, tucked into a canister.

Instead, there’s a roll of her eyes as her comment of "really, only you could pull this coat off" lands on ears that had been muted, in the way his mind drifts. How the low pooling of warmth in his belly turns sharp and cramps, at the thought of Preston Garvey spending time in such company. Like this - without him.

"I wouldn’t say that." He hears himself saying. Voice a little lower, raspier, than usual.

Maybe it's bravery. Maybe it's him finally seeing her intent - maybe it's the moment where he's realizing that after tonight, she's no longer just his again.

His eyes drag over her again, slower this time. And he lets her catch them.

"From here, things are looking pretty good."

She stills, eyes rounding. A swivel of her chair until knee-to-knee becomes thigh-to-thigh- something akin to hope slipping into her tone.

“Yeah?”

He reaches - fingers tracing the collar of his coat, thumb rubbing against the hollow of her throat.

“I’d say so.” Hancock tells her, “Look like a goddamn dream, if I’m being honest.”

She’s tired of waiting. She’s done enough of it. Eyes on his as her chin tilts up, just hovering.

He’s tired, too.

With a lean, he takes the offering. Ruined lips press against soft ones. Ones that part for him, a soft sound at the greedy dart and swipe of his tongue, until she’s meeting him.

She’s sweet - he can taste the sugar on her tongue, melding with the taste of her. Fingers press against his chest, where his heart hammers. Sliding over lithe shoulders until they’re wrapping around, pulling him closer.

He’s stronger than he looks. The seat squeaks when he leans, his palms tracing her waist, her hips. Tucking beneath her thighs - right against the curve of her ass as Hancock lifts his hips, taking her with him.

She moves, his name a soft sound in her throat. Letting him lead, letting him ease her onto the edge of the counter. A sense of relief and hope floods through her, dripping down to settle warm and wanting between the thighs that spread open so he can step between them.

His cock swells, where it’s trapped inside his pants. Easing the ache with a roll of his hips, pressing himself against the thin fabric covering her core. The breath she inhales in response is shaky. Another soft sound, so different than the assured tone he’s used to.

He wants to hear it again.

It’s easy to set the pace - the pointed press of his hips. Her hand finding his, drawing it up to her breast. Letting him cup her, the soft weight. Letting him press his thumb against that tight peak, catch it between his fingers until she’s gasping against his grinning mouth.

Her mouth drops, catching his chin. The tip of a tongue between parted lips press against his cheek, warmth breath against his jaw making him growl.

“Please-” She’s murmuring, against his skin. Against muscle and sinew, as his own lips follow.

Fingers biting into his skin, as his teeth graze her jaw. Her head tilting back, baring her throat to him, as her hips rock to meet his. Eyes fluttering shut as her chest heaves, as his other hand curls against the curve of her hip, keeping her close.

His tongue peeks out, dragging against sweat and rain-dewed skin. A groan rattles in his throat, his own voice distant and rasping.

“Fuck, I need to taste you.” He can feel her moan, against his lips at his words, “Lean back for me, doll.”

She’s soft, pliable. Unwinding herself from him as she obeys, only for those hazy eyes to open - meeting his beetle-black ones.

“Wait,” She’s protesting, hands slipping to press flat against on his chest. A sudden realization - shoulder curling back so his coat slides off it, “Let me take this off.”

“Leave it.” Hancock’s head lifts to kiss her again, his hand curling around the back of her neck.

She huffs against his mouth, before it turns into a sigh. His tongue brushing against her lower lip, before she pulls back again.

Not wanting to forget her train of thought.

“What if I make a mess on your coat?”

He groans at that, the hand on her hip drifting lower. Cupping her over the thin piece of fabric, fingers pressing down.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He husks, “I’d fuckin’ love that. Never gonna take it off.”

It makes her scoff, cheeks burning, “You never do, anyways. You-”

He shuts her up with his fingers - tugging at the elastic waistband, pulling them down until she’s bare. Letting her kick them off, before he’s pushing her back against the counter.

Arching over her soft form as his mouth wanders, his hips grinding against hers. Teeth nipping at her throat, lips brushing where her heartbeat flutters. Clever fingers tracing the seam of her sex, brushing over soft lips - teasing.

She’s so fucking wet, he can feel how his fingers glide over her skin. How it smears on her thighs, as they spread wider for him.

“What do you want?”

It makes her sigh - that voice, so low and rasping - and she’s clenching around nothing already.

“You,” She’s unable to help but whine, “Please, you-”

His laugh is rough, a rattling chuckle in his throat, “You have me, sunshine.”

Middle finger parting her, teasing at her entrance, the calloused pad of his thumb circling around the bud of her clit. Sinking into the wet heat as she groans, starting a slow pump of his textured finger.

Pressing deep with a slow thrust. Another, and then another, until she’s taking a second. Stretching her wide, as her fingers twist in his stained shirt. Grasping for his shoulders as her hips buck into his touch.

“Should say how do you want it?” The kiss he presses against her throat is almost reverent, “Because I don’t think I have it in me to go slow right now.”

“Slow, later.,” She moans, as his fingers press deep, “Need you.”

He grins, “Love how you think, sweetheart.”

Hancock’s head ducks, moving down to her collarbone, then lower. She’s already reaching to tug the cups of her bra down, baring the curves of her breasts to him.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.” He hums, fingers brushing over the soft weight again, cupping one in his hand. Still fucking her open with the other, curling and stroking until she’s panting.

Tongue peeking out to flatten, and then drag across the tight peak of her nipple. Her hands grasping for him again, as there’s the briefest pinch of teeth.

“Hancock.” She grits out, a swivel of her hips against his, grinding into his fingers.

His own rocking against the back of his hand, where he’s hard and aching. Never thinking he’d know what it’s like to have his partner begging like this.

He wants to hear more. Every little sound she makes, as his mouth moves lower. Licking wet stripes against her stomach and abdomen.

Until he’s plunking down on the padded chrome stool he’s been straddling. Gazing at where she’s wrapped around his glossy fingers.

Watching how she twitches and bucks and gasps when his thumb swipes across her clit, his name on parted lips again.

“Love hearin’ you say my name like that.” He purrs, “Can’t wait to hear how it sounds when you come.”

Leaning forward, inhaling her scent before his tongue swipes above his fingers. Her hips leave the countertop, the moan loud as he laughs - his other hand pressing flat against her stomach.

Holding her down, as he teases her again. Short, pointed licks against her throbbing clit. Her cunt is as sweet as her mouth, his own groan caught in his throat as his tongue dips inside her.

Mourning all the nights he could have spent like this. Spending the time as evening turns to night, then again as night turns to dawn. Drowning in the taste of her instead of clenching his teeth until his jaw aches, as he tries to keep quiet. Dreaming of this.

He leans back, just enough to press a wet kiss against her clit. The soft suck a sharp contrast with the texture of his rough fingers as he fucks her open.

She was right - it’s messy. Dripping down the curve of her thighs, the damp stain mixing with others on his weathered coat.

Everything is so dry, in the wasteland. Dirt roads and dead trees. He relishes in the wet suck of her cunt, how it’s this way right now because of him.

His cheeks hollow, a swirl of his tongue before he’s adding to it. Leaning back to let his spit drip down, his thumb dragging it across the tight bud.

She’s whimpering. It’s been ages since she’s had anyone - the low throb in her belly swiftly building.

In the before - she thinks she’d be embarrassed to be splayed out like this. Stripped near-bare on the counter of a diner, thighs spread wide as his fingers pump into her aching cunt.

But he eats her like a meal, left hand moving from her belly. Wrapping around a thigh to tug her closer, hiking it over a shoulder.

Groaning into her pussy as his tongue flicks against her clit, smearing slick across his chin. Pressing closer, unhindered by the usual curve of cartilage and flesh as he molds himself against her.

“Hancock.” His name is a sharp gasp, as she clenches around him. Breath held in her throat as she watched with half-lidded eyes.

Focused on the tight string that winds with each careful curl of his fingers. He slips in a third and she all but sobs, chasing her pleasure with a needy rock of her hips.

Chanting him name as it curls low in her belly.

“Hancock. Hancock-”

And then, the prettiest of all.

“John. Fuck, John, I’m going to come-”

It’s goddamn music to his metaphorical ears. Better than that - better than the sing of gunfire in his favor, of the sweet rush and hum of that first hit of Jet.

He watches through those dark eyes as she falls apart. Her cry loud in the empty diner, as she’s struck - the livewire crackle of her orgasm ripping through her.

Better than she can ever remember. Thighs squeeze around his neck but it only makes him moan - breath hot against her cunt as his fingers continue to pump. And his tongue dips to taste her, slipping between knuckles.

The pleasure throbs - the stained ceiling spinning, looking like the clouded stars high above them to her hazy mind.

A disbelieving and dazed laugh caught in her throat as his mouth moves. Pressing against her mound, the sensitive curve where thigh meets hip.

It’s only then that she’s unhooking her thighs - a heat blazing in her cheeks at the brazenness. Too caught up in the moment to see herself - splayed out across the countertop, heels digging into his spine.

But she does see him - the need etched across his face under the tip of his hat, the wet shine against his lips and chin. Deadly in a new kind of way, mixing with the prowess he shows on the battlefield.

There’s another low throb, deep inside her. The lithe way he moves, rising - a hand planting next to her hip, the other working the heavy buckle open.

She meets him - pushing herself up. A hand coming to cup him, feeling the hard length that strains against his trousers. Tasting herself on his tongue when her head ducks to kiss him, swallowing his groan as her fingers palm and squeeze.

“Drivin’ me crazy, sunshine.” His voice is like gravel, as he works at the zipper - her fingers slipping past to wrap around hot skin, “Enough to make a ghoul go feral, you know that?”

Her smile is pretty - pleasure-drunk, and he hasn’t even fucked her yet. Her hand soft and warm where she eases him out, the brush of her thumb over the head making his cock throb.

“Me too. I need you.” She begs, and he knows it’s more than that just that.

That it’s not just fucking, right now. That a line has been crossed, that they’ll never be able to not want this again. More than ready to tumble over into the unknown, together.

“My mouth wasn’t enough?” Hancock grins. Fully intending to have her every way she’ll let him. Unable to resist making her squirm.

The look she gives him makes him chuckle - the gentle pull of her fist, the little frown. The way her thighs spread again, aiming the flushed tip of his cock over slick skin. Against the tight nub of her clit as she shivers, lips parting with a gasp.

“Hancock, don’t tease-” Some of that bite is back, desperate. Not begging but it’s close, as her hips lift against him again.

“I’ll give you anything you want.” He promises, “Just like hearing you say it. Come on, sweetheart.”

It’s hard to hold himself back, when she’s notching him against her opening. His hands sliding to her hips, liking the way his fingers sink into her skin.

How it dents around his calloused ones, soft as the rest of her.

“Fuck me.” Her eyes are on his, watching where they drag from his fingers to her pussy. Watching how his chest heaves beneath his vest, where his chest peeks from loosened buttons.

“I need you in me. I need you to fuck me, I want to come on your cock-”

“Fuck.” He groans, and then his hips are snapping forward. Feeling the tight, warm squeeze as he buries himself in her, as she cries out at the intrusion.

“Goddamn, sunshine.” He has to hold himself there for a moment, hilted inside her. Feeling the way she clenches down around him, fingers mirroring it where they wrap in his shirt.

Almost sharing a breath as he inches out, only to press deep again. Again, and then again - until there’s the slick slap, the creak of the floorboards beneath his heavy boots as his feet spread wider.

It’s better than his fingers. He’s deeper, filling her completely, stealing her breath. Those hands tugging at her hips, urging her to meet each thrust, as he picks up speed.

Hearing the changes in her pretty sounds - the gasps and the scrape of fingernails against his skin. Spearing her on his cock, where she can feel the worn and rough ridges gliding against a spot that has been sighing.

But, he wants more. Wants her like before - splayed out. At his mercy, in a way that he knows she’d only do for him. Knowing that she trusts him - wondering if he would be worried that the thought makes his cock jerk inside her.

“Give me your hands.” He rasps - and slowly, her finger uncurl from the edge of the counter, the vice-like grip on his shirt.

Hancock grasps at her wrists, joining them together with one of his own. Pushing her back, dragging them above her head and pressing them down hard against the countertop.

Arching over her as his eyes sweep over soft curves and bare skin. His coat spread out beneath her, the worn red so pretty next to her skin. Better than his best fantasy, and he’s already thinking about a next time.

The choked out “oh!” she makes with the next rock of his hips shoots straight to his cock - knowing full-well she could break free if she wanted.

Instead, she lets him take.

Giving up the control as he ruts into her, spearing his cock deep again and again. Trying to meet the messy swipe of his fingertips that drifted down to press against the bundle of nerves - her pleasure in his hands.

“Look good like this, sunshine.” His eyes drag over her breasts, still shining from his tongue.

“Real fuckin’ good.”

Down to where her thighs tighten around his hips, arching into him, “Should keep you like this all the time. Just in my coat. Wear it better than I do.”

A sharp edge to his voice, one that fuels the aching pressure that builds and builds. Her head thunks back against the laminate counter, eyes falling shut.

The words starting slow, growing louder, then running together.

“Feels so good-”

“Hancock don’t stop. Oh my god-”

There’s an electricity in the air that has nothing to do with the storm. His hand biting into her wrists so hard that it hurts, but the pain only loops into her mounting pleasure.

It’s different than his dalliances before.

Before, it had filled his time. Finding someone to spend the night with a couple times a week, enjoying the shared company with another.

That frequency dwindling after they joined up, though he hadn’t been the type to stop. He just no longer had the time, that same desire.

Finding that he no longer focused on chasing his own pleasure. His interest shifting - until there was only one face that drifts through his mind, in the stolen moments at night when his hand slipped beneath his trousers.

Embracing the crave of a new kind of addiction, the urge hooking its claws into his brain.

“Say my name again.” He tells her, feeling his own release winding and tightening. Trying to stave it off, as he tries to think about anything else, “Fuckin’ scream it for me.”

Her eyes are on his when she says it.

“John.”

First soft, and then pitching up - louder.

And in the moment, he’s just John. The John before and the John now, man and ghoul and so focused on the circle of his fingers, on her cries.

It’s too much - all she can do is lean into it. Never realizing how much she’d like letting go for him, knowing that just like in the Wasteland, he had her.

Always liking his quips and rasping tone but never experiencing it like this - honey-sweet and hungry.

Learning so quickly what she likes - how quick he was to adjust the angle, the slick swirl of his fingers.

His name is on her lips again as he brings her over the brink. More like a prayer this time, her body stringing taut beneath him, eyes wide. Mouth rounding on a high gasp as the pleasure shudders through her, radiating up her spine and down her limbs.

Seeming to reach across from where they’re joined, that steady rhythm stuttering as she flutters tight and warm around him.

“Fuck. Fuck, sunshine. You feel so fucking good, gonna make me come-” His teeth grit, a silent question.

Her answer coming in the way her thighs tighten around him. Keeping him pressed deep inside her, until his thrusts turn short and sloppy.

“Oh, fuck yes.” His grin is closer to a snarl, “Thank you-”

His fingers bite into her hip. Her name hissed through clenched teeth as the pressure builds, before spilling over.

As his hips rut until he’s pressed as deep as he can, a choked groan as he comes. His cock twitching with each throb of his orgasm, as he fills her. Emptying himself into her heat - until she’s milked him dry. Until he slows, leaving himself buried, deep and warm.

His eyes drop, as he comes back down. Where she’s watching, just as hungry as he was.

Leaving them staring at each other. His back arched over where his hand has slipped. Loosening on her wrist, until her fingers has twined with his.

There’s no going back.

His cock hangs heavy between his thighs. It’s night - dark now, but the flickering of lightning following the peals of thunder cast green shadows over her body. Eyes drifting up to where the rain patters on the metal roof.

A languid exhale, breathing out the smoke from the cigarette he fished out of the coat pocket. Dangling between two fingers, the cherry gleaming in the dim light.

Then back down, to where she still rests - beautifully drowsy and limp-limbed. Thighs still parted, where she gleams with him.

He’s certain he’ll be dripping into those clothes of hers for days.

It does something to him, an interested twitch from his cock. Stepping closer to fit himself back between those thighs, where they close to bracket his hips again.

“Didn’t you say somethin’ ‘bout slow, later?” Hancock asks, his hand petting down a hip, thumb brushing against her skin.

Stubbing the rest of his smoke out on the counter, letting it fall to the tile below.

Her smile is sweet as she pushes herself up. No use leaving while the storm raged on - and she’s pretty sure the bedroll was well on its way to dry by now.

Fingers catch on the collar of his ruffled shirt, starting to push it from his shoulders. His own hands tugging at her, until he pressed snug against her again.

“Mm. Is it later, now?” She asks - as more of him is a bared - her hands running across rough skin.

Hancock grins.

“I sure as hell hope so.”

I know this dropped out of nowhere for a 9 year old game but I can’t get the mayor out of my mind 💕 thanks for reading!!!

#the tags on this are going to sound cursed ->#john hancock x reader #John Hancock x sole #John Hancock x Sole Survivor #hancock x sole survivor #hancock x reader #john hancock #fallout 4

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machveil · 2 months ago

Text

zombie apocalypse au? with König?

CW: zombies, zombie killin’, minimal, nondescript gore - it’s more focused on the characters than the zombies

Survivor!König whose been isolated in the woods for a year. the outbreak got bad while he was on a deployment and he got separated from his team. he’s a survivalist at heart, grew up escaping into nature as a child and well into his teens. he knew how to make a shelter - something sturdy and durable, built with thick logs and packed with mud. he doesn’t leave the forest often, minimal supply runs into small towns to scavenge for medical supplies and equipment

Survivor!König that’s only interacted with the undead for the better part of the past few months. he has no problem killing them, outpacing wandering corpses and overpowering them - he might be a couple pounds lighter from rationing his supplies, but König is still a beast. he taunts them, voice low before putting them out of their misery. he stopped feeling bad about killing them a couple weeks in, the mentality to survive overtaking whatever pity and grief he felt. he briefly ran into survivors early on, never saw them again. if König has any feelings towards other survivors in this apocalypse it’s a silent hope that they’ll live to see another day - pessimistic thoughts clawing at the back of his head that they’re truly gone

Survivor!König who wakes up in the middle of the night, a scream cutting through woods. he’s hesitant to go out, these current times unfortunately becoming a dog eat dog world. he expects that cry to fade out into the cool night air, but to his horror it gets louder. someone’s running in the direction of his makeshift cabin. he knows the undead aren’t strong enough to break down the walls, his door has a barricade from the inside, he doesn’t need to investigate. but, against his better judgment, he moves to open the door

you, he can vaguely make out your figure running in the dark, the sound of leaves and twigs crunching. faint groaning following you, it’s stupid. for all he knows you could be infected, running despite being bit or scratched, but König moves before he can think. despite his hulking size he quickly, silently, intercepts you - a rough, calloused palm slapped over your mouth. despite your panicked squirming he manages to drag you away, manhandles you back into his wooded home. barricades the door the shut as soon as you’re both inside, back to the door as he holds you. “Ssh.”, quietly hissing for you to quiet down, grip firm as infected pass by

#THOUGHTS?#sucker for an apocalypse au #I think he’s losing it a little ngl #zombie apocolypse au #survivor!könig #konig #könig #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig headcanons #konig x you #konig x reader #könig x you #könig x reader #cod #cod thoughts #call of duty #hit post

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damiansgoodgirll · 1 month ago

Note

i know you said you were still elaborating smackdown but did you see raw? i have a request but it might contain spoilers? i don’t know how you feel about that sort of thing so i thought i should give a warning :)

may i request…

reader comforting rhea after the little argument with her war-games team. reader sees how worked up rhea is getting over war-games . reader try’s to get rhea to relax and not be in her head so much. yes she wants to get back at liv and raquel, but she needs to stay focused, and not go into the fight with blind rage. because she might injure herself more and hows she supposed to get the title back if shes all broken and injured??

plz rhea seems so worked up she needs to take it easy before she breaks herself T_T. -xoxox anon

rhea ripley x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️nothing major, some anxiety from rhea side, comfort, love and fluff overall

the leader

“this is gonna be a mess” rhea kept whispering as she paced back and forth through the small changing room.

“rhea, you gotta calm down…everything is going to be fine” you tried to calm her down but she wasn’t listening anybody but her mind in that moment.

“how? jade is injured, bayley took her spot last minute, i still argue with bianca. how do you expect me to calm down? the match is gonna be a total disaster…” rhea was anxious. she hardly trusted the girls on her team and the only person she wanted by her side was you. unfortunately you got a mild injury a few weeks ago and you were still recovering before being cleared out to fight again.

“bianca will come around eventually. bayley and naomi trust you. iyo practically adores you. you’re gonna be a great leader, i know that rhea…just have a little faith in yourself” you smiled, patting the empty spot next to you on the couch.

reluctantly she sat next to you “how do you know that?”

“because you led me to be the wrestler i am today” you smiled at her “you believed in me, you fought hard to get me where i am today in the company, that’s why i know that. you’re a good leader and i know war games is gonna be a success, i just know it” you had faith in rhea. you knew what she was capable of.

eventually she calmed down. laying her head down on your shoulder, you brought your hand into her dark hair, softly massaging her scalp “relax baby…everything gonna be okay” you whispered softly, feeling her body relaxed against you and into your touch.

but the days leading to the match weren’t exactly as you imagined them.

rhea and the team were training very hard. you knew how bad rhea wanted to have her revenge on liv and raquel, that’s the main reason she joined the team, but you had to remind her multiple times that this match wasn’t only about her, it was about the team, that she had to cooperate and help her teammates to win.

when the day of the match came, you noticed how tense rhea was.

“you ready mami?” you asked her as she was getting ready backstage.

you saw her reluctantly nodding “yeah…”

“rhea?”

“it’s just…i feel like they had more time to prepare themselves and come up with a better plan…” she was doubting herself.

“have you noticed something off during these past weeks? something that might make liv’s team crumble?” you knew that liv’s team was selfish and everyone was playing for themselves. you needed rhea to notice that too.

“raquel will try to stop me from attacking liv” she breathed out “candace and tiffany don’t go along to well, and tiffany is still looking to cash in” you saw the concentration in her eyes “oh, and nia can’t really fight”

“good. that’s good, use that in your favour. you know their weak spots, use them against them” you said “so now, let me ask you again…are you ready?”

“yeah…yeah, i’m so fucking ready” you smiled at her while she put her mask on. she looked incredibly hot with that gear on and you couldn’t stop looking at her “what you looking at?” she asked, clearly amused.

“oh, just about the gift you’re gonna get once you win this match” you winked at her, leaving her speechless as you left the changing room.

rhea needed time with her teammates.

they needed to talk about the plan, the tactics they were going to use.

and you gave them all the time they needed.

you stayed backstage watching anyone’s entrance. rhea was fabulous as always. you saw how rhea pumped her girls up and you couldn’t be prouder. she was a great leader, anyone saw it except herself.

as the match began, you noticed how rhea was letting all of her teammates go first, leaving her behind to be the last. you heard from time to time rhea encouraging the girls from the cage.

you knew she had this match in her hands.

her time came as she rushes into the steel cage. she was fabulous. you saw her confidence growing as she started doing what she can do best.

and the moment liv stepped into the ring, you knew it was over for her and her team.

rhea fought through pain and tears.

there were a few moments where you thought that liv’s team was going to win, you saw how tired the girls were but they never stopped fighting.

her team fought hard and they managed to get the win back home.

you happily cheered backstage.

jumping up and down, you saw how happy she was.

you couldn’t be prouder.

they did it. rhea did it.

you didn’t expect to come directly to you - knowing that she would be full with interviews and post victory photos - but the moment she won, her mind began racing and thinking about you.

you felt her arms coming from behind and you slightly jumped before hearing her comforting voice “i did it” she whispered in your ears.

you didn’t have to turn around to know that she had a big smile on her face but eventually, you turned to face her and her big smile melted you.

“you did it mami” you whispered, seeing her nodding.

“and that’s because of you…you believed in me when no one else did, when i was doubting myself, you were there to help me up…thank you” she smiled softly before leaning her face down to meet your lips. she was soft, delicate.

“you did it because you are amazing rhea, you and your team did an incredible job, you deserve this” you whispered against her lips, seeing her smile even more.

before she could kiss you again, you heard bayley’s voice coming from behind.

“sorry to interrupt but they are looking for you rhea, we gotta do some interviews” she said a little awkward, feeling sorry to interrupt.

“go” you whispered “go and have your moment, i have something planned for us tonight” you winked before kissing her softly.

she smiled, a genuine smile that was rare coming from her.

she waved at you before leaving the room with bayley.

you watched the whole press conference with a big smile on your face. you saw how everyone was happy to have rhea in the team. you saw how her and bianca got along together. you saw how she gained her team trust and confidence, how they all smiled at her.

this was a big moment for her - her big moment and you couldn’t be happier.

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iwritefandomimagines · 8 months ago

Text

NOT MY FIRST RODEO — COOPER HOWARD/THE GHOUL

masterlist

part two | part three [coming soon]

pairing: cooper howard/the ghoul x reader, mentions of john hancock x reader hehe

description: the tension between you and cooper had been palpable for ages, and he was beginning to struggle to deny his attachment to you — despite his reluctance. he’s certain you’d never really be interested in him like that, until he finds out he’s not the first ghoul to enjoy your company.

warnings: swearing, jealous!coop, sexual references/implied smut, angst, making out, mentions of drug taking

author’s note: writers block was POOF! gone the minute i rewatched fallout last week & restarted fallout 4. hancock will always be my bf so i couldn’t help myself from mentioning him. let me know if u want a part two with actual smut! i only left it out because i don’t really usually write smut on this blog haha.

—

Cooper Howard and John Hancock were by no means what you’d call friends.

However, as much as it pained him to admit it, the former knew that the latter was — by the standards of many — a good man who’d do the right thing to help others when needed.

That was why, however begrudgingly, he’d suggested that you spend the last few hours of today’s daylight making the short trip to Goodneighbor to stay ‘for a while’.

It was clear that an intense few days, hunting a difficult son of a bitch of a bounty, had very much tested your limits.

He told himself that, given the amount of caps that said son of a bitch had earned you, you could afford a couple of days laying low in Goodneighbor before picking up another job.

Well there was that and the fact that much to his dismay, in the short time you’d been accompanying him on the road he’d found himself irritatingly attached to you.

When he’d first stumbled upon you while collecting a bounty you’d failed to deliver on yourself, you’d enthusiastically offered your companionship and he’d fervently denied it.

You knew he doubted you’d be any use based on your circumstances when you met, but despite your reassurances that it was just because he was the notorious fucking ghoul that everyone went on about and he had simply beaten you to it, he dismissed you with a “not a chance, sweetheart,” and went on his way.

But when he kept bumping into you in the following days, he’d given in and afforded you the luxury of helping him out on this one job — allowing himself the comfort of the excuse that if he really needed, he could trade you for caps and say goodbye to the pretty girl so oddly desperate to be at his side.

You’d driven him crazy at first — full of questions and curiosity, never refraining from voicing what was on your mind.

The way you watched him so carefully, all doe-eyed and attentive, had initially just pissed him off. But in the weeks that followed this had mellowed, and he’d found himself almost grateful to have someone so comfortable around him.

He’d never admit that though.

You’d just been much more skilled in combat than he had expected. That’s why he told himself he kept you around.

He totally just figured that it couldn’t hurt to have someone close by who can handle themselves and is willing to take just a tiny stake of a bounty (on your part, you figured there was no need to take more — he basically spent his share with you anyway).

You, on the other hand, didn’t want to admit that you had been lonely and desperate and missing the life you’d previously been so comfortable in when Cooper walked — well, stormed, into your life.

He might not ever have intended to (in fact — if he’d known, he’d probably never have let you get so close) but upon gradually letting you into his life he’d nestled his way into the empty little nook left behind in your heart.

“Why did you hesitate when I said Goodneighbor?”

Oh yeah, there was that.

When you’d left Goodneighbor all those months ago, you’d left with a broken heart and a head full of hazy memories of the happiness that the place had once brought you.

“I didn’t hesitate.”

“You sure as shit did, and even you know you’re a damn bad liar,” the Ghoul scoffed, pausing his pacing and turning to look you in the eye, “What does a pretty little thing like you know about Goodneighbor?”

You folded your arms over your chest, shaking your head at him as his steely eyes bore into yours, “Nothing. Just odd you’re suddenly so eager to go hide away somewhere when you’ve called me all sorts’a names any time I’ve asked for even a short rest break.”

“You’re full’a shit,” his hand flew instinctively to the shotgun at his hip before he released a deep sigh and relaxed it, “So I’m gonna ask you one more time. What do you know about Goodneighbor?”

You pondered for a moment whether or not to keep lying to him — he didn’t know much of your full past beyond the fact that you’d been a vault dweller a long time ago and been fighting for a living since.

You’d settled briefly in a number of places, though, and he’d heard too many stories about times you’d left settlements for various reasons to believe that you’d be too scared to return anywhere with him at your side.

Especially not somewhere like Goodneighbor.

“I—was living there for a while,” you shrugged, avoiding his gaze again now, “Didn’t like it.”

The Ghoul laughed humourlessly at that, “C’mon sweetheart, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

“I didn’t feel—look there’s just someone I don’t really want to see round there, okay?” your eyes didn’t leave the floor as he took a step closer to you, heavy breaths almost taunting further information from you.

“And who might that be?”

You looked up at him for just a second before eyeing the dust below your feet again, “I was, well, I lived there quite a while. I was—seeing, well, romantically— uh, there was—,”

“Spit it out, sunshine.”

Sunshine.

You’d not been called that since the day you left Goodneighbor the last time, and you cursed yourself for physically recoiling at the sound of it.

“Well I’ll be fuckin’ damned. You got a thing for ghouls, huh?” the wicked grin on his face set your stomach alight with a combination of emotions, “Didn’t peg a pretty little thing like you as the type. That why you spent so long beggin’ me to take you with me? Little vaultie princess desperate for another ghoul to defile her?”

You were crimson red now.

You didn’t know how to react, startled by the fact that he knew who you meant based upon your reaction to the term.

Hancock had always been charismatic and flirtatious though — it was no wonder Cooper had heard him use the phrase before.

You were almost angry, immensely embarrassed and yet, at the same time, a little aroused by even his insinuation that he knew that you wanted him in that way.

You’d found him attractive almost immediately and yeah, maybe he was right and you did seem to have a thing for ghouls.

But you sure as hell weren’t going to let him stand there and make you feel embarrassed right now.

“That’s not it, it’s not some kind of—like—,”

“Hancock got bored of ya and you latched onto the next irradiated motherfucker you came across?” he spat, “Bet you regret it now you know that I sure as shit ain’t nothin’ like your precious old mayor.”

Somewhere in the harshness of his tone you were sure you could detect a hint of jealousy at the root of his mocking.

You sighed defeatedly, “I wasn’t looking for some kind of fucking replacement when I met you, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I just— you just— well— Whatever, it’s hardly like you’ve made any suggestion you’d want me if I made a move on you anyway.”

His eyes seemed impossibly dark now, narrowed on you as his finger reached up to tilt your chin upwards towards him, “Is that right, sweetheart?”

Your legs were like jelly beneath you, a jolt of lightning in your veins at his touch.

“Sure, you flirt with me, but you’re so damn up ‘n’ down sometimes that I don’t know if it means anything,” you shrugged, skin tingling as his fingers lingered beneath your chin, “If I was lookin’ to replace John, it would’ve taken more than you being a ghoul for that.”

If he still had eyebrows, they’d have been raised now, his eyes rolling, “Right, nobody comes close to Mr. Righteous Mayor.”

His breath fanned over your face, his eyes returning to stare into yours as if looking for a reaction he knew you wouldn’t want to give him.

But you were all riled up now — so he was going to get one.

“What, is this a pity party? You want me to tell you he’s not all that? That I’m better off now I’ve found you? Oh Coop… I want you, I need you, you’re better than him. Only ghoul for me,” you mocked, pressing your hand to your forehead in feigned fawning before snapping back to seriousness, as he watched you frustratedly.

“Like I said, you weren’t a replacement. I wanted company and somewhere along the way I’ve been fuckin’ stupid enough to like your company more than I should,” you huffed, “You don’t have to pretend you want more than this flirty-but-I-hate-you-a-little arrangement ‘cos you’re jealous knowing I’ve had much, much more than that with someone else— and another ghoul at that.”

A growl left his throat at your words, his hand meeting your waist and pushing you forward so that your back was pressed against the wall.

“You’re playin’ a dangerous game here, sweetheart,” he warned, “And it’s one you won’t win.”

Your head fell back in frustration and met the wall with a small thud as his other hand pressed firmly against the wall beside it.

“You think I feel inadequate or something?” he snarled, and for a moment you weren’t sure if the question was rhetorical.

“How the fuck should I know? It’s hardly like you let me know how you’re feeling ever,” you sighed, your mind growing increasingly cloudy at your close proximity and his hand still on your waist, “That’s all I meant about John. It’s nice to know someone wants you… Hell, it’s even nice to be told when they don’t no more just as long as you’re being told.”

He was baring his teeth in a snarl still, but his lips began curling back up into a smirk, “You think I don’t want ya? Think I haven’t thought about it when you’re at my side like a fuckin’ dog on a leash looking at me all doe eyed an’ fuckable?”

Your cheeks couldn’t have been more flushed, and you knew he could feel the way your thighs clenched together at his words.

“Then why haven’t you done anything about it?” your response was a breathy whisper, the hairs on your neck pricking up and your heart thumping hard against your ribcage.

“Oh that’s a whole can of worms you don’t want opened, sweetheart,” he licked his lips, “Sweet little thing like you shouldn’t be with someone like me. But looks like I ain’t gotta worry about that, huh? Hancock’s already spoiled ya.”

You broke his intense gaze for a moment, eyes finding the floor as your teeth grazed your lips shyly at the weight of his words.

You couldn’t help the feeling that swelled in your chest at the lingering jealousy, and hearing him talk about wanting you as badly as you’d wanted him all this time gave you the confidence to push it.

“Oh he spoiled me good, you’re right,” you shrugged antagonistically, trying to quell the pain that still sat in your chest — albeit pain that took up much less space now that you’d found Cooper.

He scoffed, “That’s fightin’ talk for someone who don’t wanna see him again, darlin’.”

“Yeah well, he made me the happiest I’d been in the Wasteland since I left the vault and then tossed me aside ‘cause he got it in his head that I didn’t actually wanna be with him, like I must’ve been using him for his power and couldn’t really love him ‘cause he’s a fuckin’ ghoul — as if I didn’t know that when we met,” you grunted, “That’s all the fuckin’ chems for ya.”

Cooper leaned in closer to you now, “Well he’s a fuckin’ bigger idiot than I already thought he was, giving up you when he had ya all to himself like that.”

“Figure he doesn’t care. Might as well be married to Goodneighbor anyway.”

There was silence between you for a moment, nothing but heaved breaths and heavy eye contact as you pieced together what to do next.

You watched Cooper’s eyes flicker down to your lips for a moment, and could almost see the conflict behind them as he battled the urge to kiss you.

“I don’t wanna see him, but I don’t still want him, if that’s what’s stopping you,” you gulped, “In case it’s not loud and clear, I want you. Just didn’t wanna see him without any confirmation you aren’t gonna rock up there and declare me as some kinda fuckin’ pet and humiliate me even more than he did.”

“Enough talk about him,” Cooper growled, one hand pulling your face to his by the jaw, “If he don’t realise what he’s missin’, I definitely fuckin’ do.”

Finally, he kissed you.

Your hands flew around his neck, lips meeting his with equal fiery passion and pure need.

His one hand still remained cupping your jaw, whilst the other explored the waistband of your trousers earnestly, thumbing at your hipbone.

Finally, after all of these weeks of pining and sexual tension, Cooper Howard was giving you exactly what you needed — and all thoughts of John Hancock melted away.

You found yourself pulling him as close as physically possible, allowing him to press you against the wall as he stole your breath with the intensity of the kiss.

“Mightn’t be your first rodeo, sugar,” his lips pressed just behind your ear as he spoke, “But I’m sure as shit gonna make it feel like it is.”

———

eeeee please lmk if you’d like a part two with smut. or just a part two where they eventually go to goodneighbor. please feel free to request more coop or some hancock, and be warned there are more coop x hancock’s gf/ex!reader fics in the drafts because i can’t stop myself!!!!

in the meantime — here’s my masterlist.

#john hancock x reader #john hancock #fallout 4 #john hancock imagine #john hancock x sole survivor #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout tv series #fallout hancock #fallout ghoul

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fandomnerd9602 · 8 months ago

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Mae runs back to Y/N…

Y/N hugs her tight…

Y/N: you’re alive!

Mae: I’m home. I’m home

Y/N: I thought I lost you

Mae: not yet…and…

She holds up the book…

Mae: I got it.

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #mae #mae x reader #freya allan #survivor x reader #survivor

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do-it-uncomfterbl · 1 year ago

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You are dating Paladin Danse.

Despite spending half of most nights pacing, he always wakes you up at exactly 5 AM to work out. It does not occur to him that you might not want this.

He tends to stroke your hair or rub your back. You realize this is because Emmett the cat is the only thing he’s given affection for at least five years.

He informs you unprompted that he would still love you if you were a worm. You ask if he would still love you if you were a ghoul. He has to think about it.

There’s usually a settlement on fire somewhere, but occasionally you have to come up with problems for him to solve. If he doesn’t feel useful he gets sad.

He tries very hard to be nice to your friends. Hancock tries very hard to make him fail.

You tell him he doesn’t have to feel responsible for Shaun. He agrees, for the time being. He will listen to Shaun talk about anything. For hours.

You catch him white-knuckling the bathroom sink and staring into the mirror. That sink hasn’t worked in 200 years. Why is he doing that.

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eve-lullabye · 2 years ago

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Where you learn to never underestimate the hunter

Based off IDV

Eversleeping Town is a great and horrible map at the same time. It's great when you don't spawn next to the hunter and can immediately start decoding. On the other hand, if you spawn next to the hunter, you have to find pallets or anything to widen the distance between the two of you.

You were the middle person. One who spawned at a decent place where you could bolt and hide if needed. Some of the hunters honestly just didn't notice you for some reason. I mean, hello? You passed me five times already. Open your eyes! Needless to say, Joseph was far more observant than most, especially in a big map.

With two ciphers left, you silently cheered for Frederick and Helena. Your heart had been glowing a few seconds and you ran into the open across the tram tracks. Unfortunately, you ran right into Joseph, who was just shocked as you. You landed on your bum, while Joseph quickly recovered and struck you. The tram eta appeared above your heads. 45 seconds. Joseph grinned and reached to pick you up.

"I wouldn't do that, Monsieur Photographer," a calm voice called out. You turned to see Rook with his bow drawn and arrow pointing straight at Joseph.

Joseph smirked, "Well, this is a dilemma, isn't it?" You started crawling towards Rook in hopes to get out of Joseph's reach. "Not a step forward, ma chèrie." Joseph commanded taking a step forward as well, his eyes trained on Rook. You honestly couldn't tell what was more intimidating: the fact that they both speak French or the fact that they're both hunters. It was quite funny if you thought about it. Rook was a hunter on the survivor's side.

You glance worriedly at Rook, "Rook, leave."

"I'm afraid not, papillion."

What was with the French nicknames? Is it something that all French speakers must do?

You tried healing yourself while keeping an eye on the deadly sword. A sign flashed again above your heads. 10 seconds. You yelped and tried to hurry up the process. Neither of the men moved. If this was a glare battle, it wasn't helpful.

Joseph caved in and snatched you up. That was all Rook needed to shoot. Joseph unpleasantly dropped on your feet. You ran to Rook who pushed the two of you off the tracks in time for the tram to come careening into Joseph. Rook picked you up and began running as far as he could. You looked over his shoulder to see Joseph stalking towards you.

"Rook? He's coming!"

Rook smiled and put you down, "Run, papillion." The glint in his eyes warned you not to disobey him, and so you ran. It came to you then that Rook was body blocking you from Joseph. Joseph swung out hitting Rook like the blond hunter had planned. With the boosted speed, Rook pulled you right behind causing you to nearly lose your balance.

The last cipher popped, and you knew then you had to run for your lives. Helena shouted, "Exit gates 18%"

You looked at the map. Thank goodness, it was relatively near you. You slammed the pallet down behind you, hitting the photographer in the process. Rook grabbed you from behind and winked at you. You clutched his shoulders confused.

"5, 4, 3, 2," the blonde began counting down, "1." Rook pulled out an arrow and stabbed it into the ground. You closed your eyes, feeling as your body compressed itself. "Come on, papillion," Rook's melodic voice reached your ears. You looked up to see the exit gates opening and your other teammates. The four of you ran through, leaving a cursing Joseph behind.

At the mansion, Rook set you down and removed his hat, pressing it to his heart. You blushed but, nevertheless, thanked him.

"Would the Mademoiselle be so kind as to give a token of appreciation?" Rook smiled charmingly. Your heart beat faster at his suave voice and words. You tried to pass it off as childish by rolling your eyes, but the two of you knew that your heart and cheeks betrayed you.

You walked up to Rook and gently kissed his cheek before walking off rubbing your cheeks on the way. Behind you, you could hear Rook.

"Ó la la, you have made this hunter very happy indeed, ma chèrie."

Curse your love for French.

#disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #pomefiore #rook hunt #rook x reader #identity v #idv x reader #idv minds eye #idv composer #idv photographer #survivor x reader

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phantomvegetable · 4 months ago

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Ghostface x Deaf!Reader

you had a heartbeat like no other tw’s: like one bad word, stalking, danny being danny

Danny would never get tired of the thrilling thrum of his prey’s heart whenever he closed in on them.

The Entity allowed him—and all other killers—the enticing privilege of hearing a survivor’s quickening pulse the moment he came within striking range of his targets. It was like the low hum of a bass that reverberated in his own sternum, lighting every cell on fire with a tingling sensation. It was addicting.

And it never got old.

Here you were, his new obsession: sweating profusely, grimy with dirt and grease, working tirelessly—or was that anxiety Danny smelled? probably both—to repair a generator he sunk his boot in minutes before to aggravate the progress of his puny victims. And, like a moth to the flame, you flew right into his trap. If Danny could purr, he would be doing so right now.

Covered by the shadows, you suspected nothing, until the costume-clad predator took one, tiny step forward, and immediately the air shifted.

Electricity shot up inside of Danny as your head and heart jolted, your chin swiveling left and right to find the source of impending doom within the rubble. Like a drug, your heartbeat had Danny’s brain doing somersaults and his body shivering in anticipation, and instinctively he flexed his fingers around the concrete he hid behind. He wanted to get closer.

Stealthily, he used the broken building to his advantage; creeping around corners and blending with the shadows until he was a ghost away from your presence. Upon closer review, Danny observed the round, flesh-colored objects obstructing your ears, causing his head to tilt. Were you hard of hearing?

A terrible, crude grin stretched behind his mask. Even better.

Like a cat, Danny wordlessly crept behind you until he could reach out and barely scrape the back of your nape with the tips of his leather fingers, earning a sharp gasp and full-body shudder from you. The goosebumps were hard to miss. Danny chortled.

You immediately whipped around, giving Danny full view of your face. Wide, petrified eyes and a gaping mouth pulled taut in fear; hair disheveled from the quick movement, strands sticking to your forehead from perspiration. Delicious pheromones wafted through the mask into Danny’s nostrils, and he inhaled deeply the scent of terror like it was oxygen. It almost gave him a buzz, but that’s not what he came closer for.

Knife withdrawn, Danny traced it along the floor towards you, making sure you felt the vibrations as much as he heard the scratching. He trailed it up your arm and across your clavicle until the blade was right against your throat, making sure to press just hard enough so that when you had to swallow, you would feel the promise of death.

“Ah,” Danny all but sighed as he took in your horrified state, loving how still you were forced to be. Drastically, his mood shifted to one of seriousness, which you somehow picked up on as he felt your pulse spike. “You,” Danny spoke as he pointed an index finger in your face, fluidly shifting his hand until his thumb and pinky were extended in an upside down y-shape, “stay still. Understand?”

Careful not to aggravate the knife biting into your skin, you curtly nodded, blinking owlishly up at the killer. Pleased, Danny smirked before leaning his head down, placing an ear over your chest, and—ah. There it was.

Dump, da dump, da dump dump dump.

Like music to his ears.

At a loss for, well, anything, you remained rigid, fearing for what might happen if you moved even an inch. Sweat continued to build on your temple until it ran down your face, sliding off of your cheek and onto your pants. Ghostface didn’t seem to mind this. If anything, he cuddled even closer, the movement causing your heart rate to spike.

Ghostface groaned, a noise you felt bubble from his throat and ripple through your chest until it popped into a hot flush in your face, making you extremely uncomfortable. Was he going to kill you or smother you to death?

The pressure at your throat increased, and you decided he would do both.

Taking a few more minutes to relish in your rapid heartbeat, Danny sighed, knowing this precious little moment would come to an end.

But that meant killing you. So, it was a win-win, really.

As he pulled away, Danny made eye contact with your wild gaze, something that he knew he shouldn’t do. The pleading, teary-eyed look you had had his heart cartwheeling all over again—possibly even moreso than the enriching thrum of your heart. The next time he had his camera, Danny would make sure to snap a relic of it. Sighing, he sat back on his haunches.

“Fine,” He hissed, huffy and dramatic, “you get three minutes to run. Capeesh?”

When you didn’t reply, Danny rolled his eyes from beneath the scream he wore and raised both hands (knife tucked beneath his thumb), striking a finger down for every second you had remaining to get your ass up and run.

Acknowledgement flashed in your eyes, and quickly you scrambled to your feet, knocking your ribs into the generator on your way out. The hiss you made makes Danny chuckle, and slowly he gets up without finishing the countdown. How naive of you to trust him; he was a killer, after all.

The sound of your terrified heartbeat follows you out the door just as Danny does, ears tuned to the enthralling thumping that had him closing his eyes. He would never get tired of this.

#ghostface x reader #dbd x reader #danny johnson x reader #dead by daylight x reader #i headcanon danny doesnt have his camera some rounds bc either he or a survivor breaks it lol

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1-800-panicc · 1 month ago

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(I believe in silly sex with Hancock)

"Next time," you murmured, out of breath with your head against his chest, "we're skippin' the circus act."

"Speak for yourself." Hancock shifted beneath your weight into a more comfortable position. "I thought it added character."

Like c'mon now. Shirt gets stuck over your head? Can't untie that stupid sash around his hips? Headbutting on accident? Kicking that fucker while trying to wiggle your pants off?

And don't even get me started on his laugh.

The man would be just as much amused as he was in love with this other side of you. Nobody was perfect—he sure as hell wasn’t—so why should the sex have to be?

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fo4 john hancock #fo4 hancock #john hancock #john hancock x sole survivor #john hancock x reader #writing #writing prompt #paniccswritings

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5eraphim · 8 months ago

Note

Okay so this has been stuck in my head for WEEKS and I finally decided to stop bein scared and ask you to write about it lol

So as a DBD player, I got to thinking that it would be kinda cool if survivors could fight the killer even if it was just once per round and then this scenario popped into my head.

How would Killer react to Survivor!Reader biting them as a defense/distraction/etc? My favs are The Shape, The Executioner, and The Mastermind! Headcannons would be amazing but if you could maybe branch out to make one a one-shot kinda deal? Maybe NSFW if you feel spicy?

P.S your writing and fics LITERALLY give me life YOU’RE SO GOOD 😭��

My deepest apologies for how long this has been rotting in my inbox, I thought this prompt was a lot of fun, and again, I'm sorry it took forever for me to get around to answering this. Hope you enjoy all the same!

Characters: Michael Meyers, Albert Wesker, Pyramid Head (Dead By Daylight)

Rating: R (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, GO PLAY OUTSIDE!!)

Content Warnings: Yandere, smut, noncon, stalking, choking, violence, sacrificed to the entity, predator/prey dynamics, obsession, sadism and masochism, reader is kept gender neutral

Word Count: 1.6k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

The Shape

It's almost too predictable for a killer like Michael Myers to wind up in a situation like this. As the survivor he brought with him into the entity's realm made physical payback, her signature, Micheal can't help but attract the "feisty" type.

A man hiding behind a mask, Michael competes with fierce determination and an almost primal compulsion to hunt, stalk, and slaughter like no other. Of the three, Myers would be the most likely to anticipate physical retribution from a survivor, according to him, all part of the hunt.

Myers prefers to remain hidden by shadows as long as possible, awaiting his perfect opportunity to go in for a decisive kill. But remaining hidden in the dark is a luxury you don't have at your disposal on account of being Myer's obsession.

You didn't want it to come to this. Even before the match started, you prayed to fight any killer, but Myers, your disappointment only grew as you realized minutes later that you were his obsession.

The idea of fighting back physically was a spur-of-the-moment decision; you knew you only had one chance of pulling this off, and if you missed, your fate would be sealed. You usually weren't one to opt for such a risky strategy, but you were too blinded by your fear of Myers. You would do anything to get away.

Even though you couldn't see him, you could feel Myers' eyes locked in on you, no doubt following and trailing you from behind. The paranoia was torture, but you forced yourself to stay strong and ignore Myers, to focus solely on supporting your team.

When Myers inevitably tracked you down and caught you after getting distracted by something else, you had so much pent-up nervous aggression that you couldn't hold back your body's instinct to fight back.

Fear overtook any lingering traces of rationality as you struggled blindly against Myers, but you had just enough determination reserved to take aim and fire a single punch, aiming for his head, landing against the cheek of the mask; it was just enough to disorient him long enough for you to wriggle free.

Despite the offense, Myers didn't think you had it in you to fight back like that. It excited him! As though you were holding back on him before, and now you were starting to fight back like you really meant it!

After enduring the pressure of being his obsession and succumbing to the fear of it all, you little humanity left to hold onto, almost nothing but your primal fight or flight instincts; it was truly a beautiful sight for him to behold.

The next time he cornered you, Myers decided he ought to follow your lead, only instead of going for your head, he would go for your throat, not with the knife, but with his hand.

And for just a moment, he'd keep you there. Only needing one hand around your throat to keep your entire body pinned into place on the wall behind you. Wood planks made contact with your back at odd angles, the dull pain radiating up and down your spine as you were face to face with Myers, close enough to hear his breathing behind the mask while he observed your face- knowing you believed he was seconds away from slitting your throat.

Likely, as Myers holds you in such a compromising position, he takes out all his own pent-up frustrations on you. Leaving bitemarks all over your neck and shoulders while he quickly shreds the clothes from your body.

Just as you gave into primal fight-or-flight instincts, he was giving into his own primal urges. He'd won the hunt, and now it was time to let his libido take charge. Half-undressed, he ruts against you, and you can hear his heartbeat racing. Maybe even feel his body warming as his blood flows rapidly, but he remains as silent as a corpse.

After having his fun, Myers will take great pleasure in sacrificing you to the entity. Even if he couldn't take down everyone on your team before this, the opportunity to sacrifice his obsession in such a thrilling bloodbath overshadowed any regular trial as a ruthless killer.

The Mastermind

It wouldn't take more than an instance of fighting back physically against him for Wesker to decide to hunt you down right away. He would've never suspected another survivor would be bold enough to try something like this on him. Wesker wants to know what makes you think you're strong enough to try something like this.

His reaction would be determined primarily by what point in the trial you try this.

Albert might think it's insufficient enough to ignore if it's early or if he's doing well.

But given how infamous of a hothead he can be, more often than not, any time you try this, expect to be met with hostility.

Wants to see you go from physically resistant to begging him for mercy. On the outside, he pretends to see brats like you as nothing but a petty annoyance to be dealt with, but on the inside, he absolutely loves doing this; keeping the weak in check is how he stays strong.

Wesker doesn't exactly get any legitimate pleasure from being hurt, but he will tap into the pain when fighting back. He does this partly out of loyalty and obligation to the entity but equally out of a petty vengeance to hurt you back twice as hard as you hurt him.

Wesker waits patiently before fighting back, taking care of those annoying teammates first to give you his undivided attention. As well as strategically lying in wait after the confrontation before striking while your guard is down.

The very first thing Wesker does after tracking you down is wounding you exactly where you hurt him, though he's sure not to let you go until he's drawn blood.

Don't expect him to show you any mercy from here. Might go as far as pushing you down, wiping his shoes against your back as you writhe below, trying to squirm out from under his boot.

It's good foreplay for him, seeing the foolish survivor who dared to fight back, bleeding and barely alive. He won't fuck you in the muck for his own sake, of course. Wesker will push you up against a wall face first while he is taking you from behind.

If he's feeling especially good after sweeping a trial, he might leave you with just enough life to hold onto while you crawl to the hatch. More likely, you won't live long after such a brutal session. But even if you don't die, Wesker will be sure to leave you so beaten and tormented you'll regret trying to fight him like that and won't want to try again. Even if Wesker secretly hopes you will.

The Executioner

While the others welcome the resistance, even if only to crush it, Pyramid Head would likely resent you for trying to physically challenge the killer and disrupt the natural order of things. It was an injustice, and it was imperative to punish you for this.

Imagine playing as a "Gen-Jockey" survivor, the kind of teammate who provides the bare minimum to the rest of the team, putting your own survival above the lives of your teammates, the type of survivor Pyramid Head hated the most. A coward.

All that to say, it was an extreme shock after he cornered you and felt your teeth sinking into the exposed flesh above his glove.

While you were combative and aggressive now, Pyramid Head knew you couldn't keep this up forever. You were, to him, nothing but a coward deep down. Even if you wanted to pretend like you had any real fight of your own, it wouldn't be long before you surrendered to your own exhaustion. Perhaps he was even doing this as his way of offering you a "fair shot" to find your way out before he got his hands on you. Like he would ever let that happen.

Since you tried to bite him earlier, he'd punish you by fucking you from behind, bent over a broken desk crushing your face against the hardwood surface. He was an inescapable force while you were powerless to stop any of this from below.

Would only give into his beastial nature to hurt and fuck you if he's already managed to kill the rest of your team. It's not his style to slaughter his obsession until he's taken care of the others, and he doesn't want to let anyone pass by without judgment.

If he doesn't get this opportunity during the trial, Pyramid Head will fantasize about killing you off last while staying buried inside you, feeling your pathetic body crumbling and going limp beneath him.

Paradoxical feelings of sadism and protectiveness for you as Pyramid Head is obsessed with being the only one alloweed to hurt you, judge your soul, or torture you. But all this cruelty is undermined by his motivation to keep you from getting hurt by others.

He is most likely to let you live after making love because the instant gratification of an orgasm, as well as the satisfaction of punishing you himself, will keep him from sending you up to the entity.

Consider this Pyramid Head's very niche kind of post-nut clarity.

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