#vaultie y/n (ish)
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fuck it, guess we both aint' shit
a/n: sorry this fic took so long y'all i am so slow when i write. for context, i solely write before i go to bed and pass out with my phone attached to my head this was a request a while back when i was still active in bg3 circles lol so its been going for MONTHS at this point. i dunno how folks crank this shit out that's like a super power. anyways im playing skyrim now!!!!! im working on two fics, one skyrim and the other f:nv, because i love love loveeeee beatrix russell and also want my ttrpg character to have several enjoyable moments in her sad life. stay tuned! it may be a while for those to come out, so i appreciate y'all being patient. coops accent in this story is based on my own, im from the Appalachian region of virgina!! just to note we tend not to say the first letter of words. at least that was my accent and my experience each southern person will be different :)) please enjoy and let me know if you have any ideas, i'm always grateful for those.
ps. sorry for the long a/n lmao
(my doc says this is 19 pages!! my longest to date lmaooooo.)
general notes: named insert (fo1 character!!), doc is brown :))), i tried to stay pretty neutral with gendered language but doc has a pussy and boobs (sorry for being vulgar. it helps to specify their parts so you know what you're getting into) as always its a smut, and ooc cooper, i'm getting my feel for him, drugged sex, cannibalisim as a metaphor, barely disguised breeding fetish, restraints and rope play.
During the warmest months of a farming season you often asked yourself, why.
Why did you decide to choose NCR sharecropping in the first place, and what made you so god damn lucky to leave Nevada alive.
You had started off a trek from the high walled dunes of the new republic’s deserts for a more opportunistic place in Colorado. High walled mountains kept off raiders, but kept in heat and snow. So you worked tirelessly on the outskirts of a small settlement, modeled after a historic town out of a western film.
Recently you received Brahmin from a trade deal which made planting significantly easier to do.
Brahmin dung was also good for another thing as well.
Jet.
Your tidy lab always stunk of fertilizer and smoked out herbs, this was a small production thing so the allowance to vary was there. You sun-dried the patties first, stacking the briquettes between bushels of dry and wild herbs, this would be burnt out and condensed into pressurized containers, if not mixed with a bit of water for easier spray abilities.
This is where your actual money came from; compared to that farming was a hobby. You had a regular client coming in for a shipment. This one-a favorite of yours for a bit. Perhaps not for his “aesthetic appeal” though his sallow and gaunt skin holds echoes of the handsome man he was previously.
No..
You liked his voice (though faux it was), and his bright teeth(stained with a yellow, making them seem more manilla if anything), the way his hat held over his brow (you could never see his eyes), the perch of his thumbs tucked into his belt (an odd position at that.), and the corners of his smile lines. With each step you took towards him, the professional in you took five steps back. You had half a shock at one point to care for him when he randomly appeared piss drunk at your step. The way he curled into you as his speech slurred, or the odd way he made himself comfortable on the couch.
He told you you smelt nice that day. You sent him along with a packet of sober up pills and hangover meds.
You pressed down on the seed bed with a glove tugging at the carrot rooted in the Rocky soil.
“Sonofabitch!” You cussed out as you tugged. You took a couple more stabs at the dirt again, loosening the ground around it.
Your breathed in the deep blue sky surrounded by miles of mountains, the plains you resided in like the bottom of a welded goblet.
You wiped the sweat off your brow, the chunky glove absorbing most of it. You tugged up the loosened carrot and tossed it into a small bin filled with produce. You stood up brushing off your overalls of excess soil.
You carried the bin off, jumped by a hoarse whistle from the pasture.
“There you are sweetheart!” He held a hand over his head, in greeting.
“Hey you!” the ghoul gave you no name, so you referred to him in vague suggestions.
“You certainly arrived early! What's the occasion? Could you help me with one of the baskets, Hun’?”
He trotted over, the click and jingle of his spurs followed behind him. He hoisted one over his shoulder with ease. “Am I not allowed to see my favorite doctor? I found myself wandering about the area, supposed I'd drop by…I do know when I'm not welcome though.”
“It would be awful rude of me to not accept your company.” You teased in return. He rolled his eyes, lugging the bins of produce to be sorted and sold up your porch steps.
“Need a place to stay?” You didn't look up, as this generally came as a routine question.
“Same as always.” He confirmed, stomping off the dirt from his boots.
“Mind me changing then, hun?” your words didn't reflect affection, but showed shallow familiarity in them.
He shrugged, “‘pose not, m’ gonna have a smoke on the porch.”
“Take your time” you nod, trudging up the creaking and faded wood stairs.
You weren't sure how to approach him, he had shown signs of interest previously, walking in on your out of the way showers, leaving things for him to come back and collect them, paying more caps for his shipment than usual. To be fair, you definitely indulged him- at one point you had complained about your water resource being devoid of warmed water. As you padded around with soaking skin and a fluffy towel, and a grumpy expression cemented on your lips.
All this teasing didn't help those dreams, they started when he left an extra shirt from his pack. This one was dark and ragged, a change from his gray stained cowboy shirt with tassels. It smelt like him, and deeply so. You were ashamed to admit that you used it to pleasure yourself for a period of time. Eventually your breath stained the shirt and it no longer smelt like him; that was a depressing day indeed.
You had handed the item back to him, he took it with a thin smile. I'm glad you took care of it.
Weeks after an item of yours went missing, then returned in odd places. Socks, a camisole or two, most egregious was from your hamper, two pairs of bloomers you intended to clean. It was an unspoken agreement, an item exchange of sorts, perhaps he sought companionship on the heat stained road.
To admit your affections weren't returned was a vague understatement, he had propositioned you on several occasions often asking to meet late at the barn, he was quick to release offering a thank you by allowing you to squeeze and grind down on his fingers as he cleaned the spent cum with a tossed aside shirt. It was always one of yours.
Those moments were short, maybe if you offered a comfortable environment he'd be willing to play pretend.
You tugged off the flannel that stuck to your sides, unclipping the overalls and tugging them over your shins. Your bones popped as you stretched, peeling off the soaked undergarments in exchange for one less distracting. The air was cool against your skin, you took a wetted rag from your ceramic basin and cleaned down your sweaty skin. You tossed the dirt stained clothes into your hamper: sucking in air between your teeth. The outfit you decided on was a loose button down, soft cotton slacks with a silver button, and some leather sandals.
It wasn't your most dashing look, but it was an easy one, something to throw on as the sun began its track down.
+
You ate in silence, spoons clicking against cracked porcelain bowls. The stew was filling as per usual, but you kept your head down.
He looked much more red with the checkered table cloth in front of him, his jaw working as he pulverized the food in front of him.
The ghoul in front of you quirked a brow “you ain't becoming feral are ya? The rate you're scoffing supper down. I'm fraid to be your next meal!”
“No m' just thinkin’. Tend to eat fast when I have lots to ponder.” you held the spoon to your lips tilting it and passing the savory broth over your tongue.
The older man set down his spoon, a bit of confusion racking his brow. “yaint got much to think about. What a chemist n all. You're just plugged into all them formulas ,ain't you sweet pea?”
You grunt in somewhat acknowledgement “I guess”
The lower rooms in the evening became sticky hot without the curtains drawn, bright sun flames the sides of the buildings and glinted off the tarnished metal buckles and beads on the cowboys outfit.
“Well.” You rose holding your empty bowl, the click of metal under porcelain still droning on at the other side of the table. “I'm pooped, I think it's time to retire to my room. Do some unwinding, the works. Goodnight, sir. “
You turned to leave, setting your bowl in the open kitchen sink, the ghouls voice interrupting your thoughts.
“Hey doc- I got an odd request.” The cowboy began. “Have you ever tried jet?”
Cooper hesitated for once, feeling your warm skin beneath his palm, the way your pulse sang when he touched you.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
His thumb traced the corner of your mouth, lips parted delicately to taste. He had you pinned as you sunk into his figure, one hand flattened on his breast the other hanging limply at your side. You cupped it around the side of him, allowing him to move in close.
He watched your eyes wide and dilate, your already oh so large pupils eclipsing your iris’s.
This must've felt like light years away for someone not as attuned.
Your breath washed against him, his nasal cavity picking the strong sickly scent of jet on your tongue, he could taste you in the back of his throat.
“Tell me if anything is too much, as much as I seem gruff, I do desire the lady folk having an equal amount of fun.”
You hiccup and nod, “yeah I understand - yessir.”
“You don't try your own stock, doc?” He tilted his head, carefully leading your jelly body to the bed.
“Jet ain't my choice- I usually go for day tripper. Slows you down a lot more, so I do it during sunny days. Things change and you can enjoy a lot more “ you talked with your hands he often noticed, but here they flew without meaning, like a puppet with cut strings.
“Mmm.” He mused, a sound of recognition. He shut the bedroom door, the low light of the sun spilling in dappled puddles through your window. He kicked off his boots, placed them in a corner and set his heavy overcoat and hat on a chair.
“Once again, are you sure? Is this what you want?”
He was hesitant to approach, leaning over you with one knee on the soft mattress. The springs creaked under the shift in weight.
“You certainly know how to make a girl beg for it.” You joke, cracking a half grin.
“Being a tease comes with the territory, sugar.” he tucked a curl behind your ear, cupping your cheek with the rough palm of his hand. He listened to your breath flutter; that hit of jet has fucked you up.
The rusted iron bed frame creaked under his shifting weight, mindful of your soft limbs as he coaxed your legs apart to hang on his hips- Your hair bloomed outward on the pile of cotton and straw pillows. eyes laden with a hazy glow that reflected the golden light.
Your breath fanned over his face- sweet, tangy and rich. Your tongue swiped in-between your cracked lips coating them with a coating of spit, they glistened in the low golden sun.
Your hand, weathered from soil, caressed his cheek with all the gentleness of a rose petal. He crooned and leaned into you, you were much more inviting of his touch, a satisfied “hmph” as what remained if his lips landed on yours.
Your hands found the back of his neck pulling I'm into you.
You felt soft, curling around his jagged edges like water droplets on a sky light. His fingertips tingle with electricity.
You huffed tilting your head slightly, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt. Your skin pooled with heat, his thumbs finding the underside of your breast. He cradled your tap dancing heart between two palms. Your lips found a clumsy rhythm; one that he found nostalgic. It was easy to imagine being young with you, you made it look effortless.
You pushed him away- cheeks stained a bright rosy pink as you gulped down air like an odd looking fish. Curls laid on your cheeks sticking up on odd and random places, if he was a much kinder man he would've tucked a strand behind your ear, issuing kisses that traced to your nose. You cracked a warm, half-smile; your hand finding a place under his cheekbone.
You wheeze out quickly, coughing up fumes of jet; sputtering like a broken down car. “Your name-” you finally got out, “I never got your name.”
There was sincerity in your eyes, innocence even- perhaps a hope that this wouldn't be another one-night stand.
Perhaps today… he would allow himself to fly too close to the sun. For once- to bathe in the bright warm of comfort, the wholeness of companionship; the milk of human kindness.
“Cooper.”
“Cooper.” The sound rang off your cherry pink lips held by ivory teeth and a fleshy velvet tongue. “Cooper.”
“And yours?” He asked quietly.
“Just doc is fine.” You purse your lips, the joy that rang off your tongue snapped close like a heavy lid of a jewelry box - hiding the treasures from sight. You formed a slight business-like manner to your tone.
He nodded curtly, shifting on his elbows to drape himself over you once more.
He worked the buttons of your shirt off. helping you out of the loose cotton shirt- he licked his lips intently. It was truly an oasis of flesh to his gaze.
He whistled low, his fingers twitching and buzzing- aching even, just to get a feel of the soft warm skin beneath him. “Arnt you the prettiest thing I ever did see” his voice was a lowered rasp.
The warm sun pooled below your sternum and held your face dearly. The lace frame around your pillow held up your portrait.
The bounty hunter listened to your heart beat away in its cage. He then sat back on his haunches and dragged his fingers down your sternum.
“Such pretty, soft skin “ he cooed. The nail in his finger digging into the surface leaving a trail of raised skin behind it. You wiggle at the prickling sensation on your skin. What game was he playing?
He took an inhale as his palms cupped your shoulders and scooted down your sides, repeating in an almost massage like motion. He repeated the same kneading motion with your chest, a low sigh coming from his lips.
He was used to an exchange or dance of sorts when it came to these circumstances. A relief of hand, or the jingle of caps in some woman's back pocket. The road has taken a toll on his aspect of companionship, for once he found himself slightly stupefied except for the notion to touch you.
You melted into his warm palms; your eyes fluttering shut into relaxation.
“Are you comfortable Cooper?” You broached the awkward silence of sighs with unease.
“Doing just fine sweetheart, you relax now.” the vaquero chides; flicking your nipple as a slight retort. You tense at the sensation though unpleasant as it is enjoyable.
The ghoul unbuttoned his vest, tossing it aside and leaving him in that faded vault tec cowboy shirt and pinstripe trousers. He loosened the top few buttons of his shirt, a bit self conscious of his form without all these layers. You blink slowly, re-assembling to settle your thighs around his hips. His kisses smudged your lipstick, cupping your jaw in one hand- the other cradling the pillow behind your head. you lean into his egging, lifting your neck for his teeth to graze.
His tongue was the first sensation. licking a stripe up your collar broke you out into simple goosebumps. You close your eyes against the sensation of him latching onto your skin. One of his hands caressed your chest, the other held your hip- squeezing it gently. He left indents and bruises to litter your skin, a mauve flush of patchwork on your neck. As His bites ran below the collar- he shifted position. He kissed down your chest, marking a spot right above a mole. Dipping his head lower His tongue swirled around a nipple taking it into his mouth.
The other was treated to the same palming while his other hand busied itself by burying into his boxers.
A bittersweet image flooded his mind. As a younger man himself, he would take many lovers. Holed up in some trailer room on a daybed, lips puffed and tight pencil skirt tossed to the wayside, it left you cloaked in a mussed bone white blouse with a bow at the neck. Dark black heels dug into the velvet beneath your ass. The tight stifled moans- the ferocity of your grip- the way you offered to not ruin his set costume.
Your glasses would slide down your nose as he coos would split you wide open like a piece of log.
These dalliances were savory before married life, a taste he'd like to try again.
He found himself switching, adjusting hands, welcome to an exasperated sigh of frustration from your lips.
“Cooper” sounded off like a prayer, the rock of an ocean wave as he navigated down your sternum.
He hooked a finger under your waistband- you burned brighter than any field of irradiated waste. “Now's your chance miss.” he hummed, stroking the sides of the scrunched fabric.
Much to his chagrin, you nodded. A warm sickly sweet feeling of familiar warmth crept up the walls of his stomach. Was it pride? Longing?
Whatever it was, he stared down the barrel of his would be nose. He wet his lips like a wolf about to blow down a stick building- and certainly, most certainly, he would make a meal of the javelina inside.
Carefully he unwrapped you, laid bare before him your skin bristled underneath the heat of his hand. He sighed again for emphasis, the flashes of you in that scenario warmed the back of his mind.
Another indulgent idea as his fingers skimmed against your hip line. His brow furrowed as he watched your eyes flutter shut again.
Chaps pushed to under his knee, boxers and Levi's still clung to his thigh. In this he was a bit older, the sleepy dream holding an air of youth from the way you bit down on his hand and hesitated to fully sheath yourself onto him. In quick staccato motions that angled for just the right spot sent your teeth sinking into his hand. Your legs shook slightly as the tip of your heel curved around his calf. A careful balancing act
His hands traced patterns onto your clit absentmindedly- bowing down to steal a slow kiss every once in a while. He was careful, he wanted something decadent.
He kneeled at the altar between your hips, for he was but a man.
He bit down on the flesh of your thigh, prodding your entrance with a finger- he sucked at the indented wound. Lifting up your thigh he left marks underneath the skin of your butt. He worked on opening you up- sliding a finger into you easily. You held eye contact, rolling your hips against his thumb and hand, figured in a pinching motion. Just one tug of the thread and he had you spiraled out.
The air was laden with the heavy silence that wasn't the crackle of an obscure motown album. He added a second, your body rippling out like a Newton's cradle at the sensation.
“Coop’ shit-” were the first words you said in a bit.
“Talk to me babygirl, can only do so much while my hands are busy.” He curled his fingers massaging the spongy tissue beneath their tips.
“Coop-!” you whine again, leaning into the hand that cupped your face.
Your brow was furrowed in concentration- moving your toes to avoid the muscles of your leg locking in place.
“Are we just fond of sayin’ my name, hm? C'mon pretty girl, tell me whatcha like me to do.'' He growled, kissing the corner of your mouth, the side of your nose, up to your furrowed brow.
He kissed back down your chest, kissing the flesh of your thighs.
He began his game of chicken- cupping your back one thumb drawing circles into your sides.
“Tell me.” He urged.
his lips drew near your throbbing clit heat pulsing in waves from your legs.
“God, you're really having me do this?” you puff up a bit, embarrassment settling into your skin.
“Ain't no shame in being polite, sweetheart.” He chides “your parents teach you manners? Now am I gonna spell it out for you or what?” His tongue dipped between your folds; tracing light circles around the bundle of nerves.
You hissed like a tea kettle, bending the knee for better access. “Please sir.” Your tone was condensed as you struggled to keep composure, or lest you break in your bed partner's nose a bit more.
“Please what, be specific sweetheart.”
your warm palm squeezing the back of his head felt just right
You swore under your breath, mustering the courage from the depths of your stomach, sacrificing your bruised pride in return. “please I'd like to- like you to eat me out.”
“What a sweet girl, perhaps I'll reward her for being so polite, hm? What do you think doc.” He grinned, flashing the aged and manilla teeth in his maw.
You deflate, nodding your head in almost defeat.
The ghoul hummed in approval- his fingers once stilled began to tap dance happily against your inner walls. He wove himself into you, mouth latched firmly onto your clit- his dark blown eyes flashing up to your reddened face every once in a while.
Your thighs framed his head. He had lifted one over his shoulder for better access to your core. Your legs hooked around his neck, trapping him closer.
The sound of slurps made your stomach twist into hard knots. Contented and pleasured groans fell around you- sending small vibrations to your clit. You held onto his bicep, after a while he offered his other hand.
To be eaten alive by another man was only discussed in the late hours of the evening. Cigarette smoke drawn from his teeth hissing away like a steam engine as you talked. You felt consented like one humming giant beast.
The cartilage of his nose bumped against your clit as he went to taste you. Squeezing the delicate fingers of yours pink, he pressed his hips into the mattress trying to relieve some pressure.
“Coop’! holy shit-!” He felt your walls contract around his hand, clamping down in them. He was quick to remove himself leaving you sullen and empty
Partially to stave off an orgasm from how nimble his fingers could be. Years worth of repairs means one getting good at tasks like sewing.
“Tsk tsk tsk. Can't have my baby spoiled yet.” Cooper tutted stealing a peck from your lips.
Your lips formed a whine as he sat back licking his fingers clean. “Ain't right if I can't have some fun too, hm? Ain't that right, sugar.” His lips twitched into a smirk as he unclasped his unruly belt wiggling down the rough denim over his ass and thighs. He splayed his legs and sat back on his haunches, eyes flicking back up. He wasn't bigger than average, but he was certainly thicker. A pert and red head with pulsing green veins that ran down the side. his legs and hips were surprisingly less marred than the rest of his body, resulting in just a light texture on his cock.
“You're awfully quiet now sweetheart, see something you like?” He teased, prowling his way back up your form, his lips mapping the thin and light scars on your smooth skin.
He slid his member along your folds bumping his head against your clit. “Ain't you just hot n’ bothered, hm sweetheart?”
He could feel you trying to squeeze down around nothing desperately looking for something to work on your arousal with.
“Roll over for me, pup.” This came out as a snarl, a harsh command from the sweetness he usually treated you with. He spat into his hand. Rubbing it along his shaft as a makeshift lube.
You laid there ass exposed to the warm light. Your knees pressed into the mattress below.
The cowboy readied his condition to be that of a sour patch kid, enticed to show vulnerability but apprehensive enough to snap. A high emotional state for him.
He watched your ass bounce as you turned, your head cushioned by your pillows. You stared at him from behind. Those big eyes of yours would be the inevitable death of him. He filled a palm with your flesh squeezing it gently before quickly smacking it.
The force made it jiggle again, the sounds of the slaps sounding sharp and sour. His warm hands palmed the fullness of your reddened ass rutting himself between your cheeks.
“God I could just cum just like this, all over this gorgeous ass of yours.” Cooper sighed, bending forward for a better angle.
“‘s your choice” your voice slurred- giving away the concentrated effort not to beg like a bitch in heat.
His hand was quick, the slap left your skin tingling. “I don't take backtalk well miss. If there's something you want, we ask for it- politely. The ncr hadn't brought back the old worlds manners with it as well I see. I’ll make a respectable woman out of you yet.”
You snorted, “ain't no manners when you were raised with a gun in your hand. I'm not a common whore from the strip. I'm an educated whore.”
“Damn right.” He growled with a swift serving of pain to your ass. He pinched it and jiggled it slightly. He stopped for a moment in a split decision, bowing his head and kissing the skin under his hand, “sorry.” heaving a sigh from the bottom of his chest. “ It's a shame this gotta end so soon.”
“You don't have to go just yet coop’” you attempted to reassure the older man “you can stay at my place if you'd like. Didn't know you were having this much fun tossin’ the sack. Seemed…casual to me.”
“I'm only human, ain't we supposed to be social creatures doc?” his hands smoothed over your back. The gesture was meant to be reassuring, a peace offering beforehand.
“ ‘pose so. Alright then, I don't get how this relates to you fucking me raw soon.” you teased, turning your head to the side of a pillow to gaze back at him, a slight coyness to your lowered lashes.
“It ain't.” his mouth fused mostly together into a wide and glistening smile, seemed a bit wider- cheeky almost. “Since you asked so nicely…” he trailed off, the head of his member rubbing against the folds of your entrance. “What was it you wanted? Gee I don't remember- maybe the radiation is getting to me after all- you're gonna have to remind me.”
You shoved your hips back in a retort- trying to capture all of him just from the sensation of his members head prodding your entrance.
“Oho!” He chuckled softly “getting feisty aren't we.” You felt the warmth behind you fade. You looked back in confusion. The vaquero bowed, kissing a splotch of red on your ass. “Eyes forward, doc.” He commanded, and so his will, will be. Behind you he rustled, searching for something, he hummed quietly once he found it, his lasso. The ghoul fastened a hangman's knot at the end of the rope tying it between your ankles and knees. Another loop and knot at your hip then over a shoulder and under an arm. So when he pulled back he would pull all of you. He went back to rummaging, pulling a pair of stockings out of your sock drawer, loosely tying them around your wrists, an odd touch of care considering that the rope already bit at your skin. “Now are you gonna behave? Or must I do this the hard way.
“I'll certainly try my best” you tilted your hips up, popping your back. “Can't promise much from one so ornery as myself.”
“Well then if you act up I'll just cum on your ass. Fair deal?” he spread your lips apart, broaching your entrance. His other hand dipped in front of you pressing down on your stomach to avoid initial cramping.
You gasped and grit your teeth. “fair deal.”
“Ain't you a gentleman then coop, your hands quite a nice temperature”
“Thank you” he purred, adjusting his hips as he sank into you, “just the polite thing to do when you don't have lube.”
His hand shifted to your clit, pinching gently at the sensitive nub. Heat bloomed like hot house poinsettias at your core. He grunted at your walls clasping down and memorizing everything about him.
“Ain't you nice and tight.” The cowboy hummed, wiping at his brow. “This is gonna take forever if you don't relax.”
And oh God did you feel wonderful. Tight to the center with just a bit of friction enough to cling onto him.
“Ain't much relaxing to do when you're pumped up on jet.” You lowered the floor of your stomach trying to accommodate his length.
“Ain't that so? Just looks like we’ll have to do some forcin’ huh?” He shifted his hips out ever so slightly and eased his way back in. Slow and comfortably, he manually stretches you out. You moaned out into the pillow beneath you, leisurely thrusts scraping against your walls. You clung to him like a glove, his balls merely tapped against your vulva. A warm soreness hit the back of your core as he tugged the rope down onto him.the fibers bit your sides, neck, and hips, searing their marks of claim onto you. He leaned forward, the sink slow but hitting the back of your cervix, your sex made a soft squishy sound as he hit hilt, panting like a feral mongrel dog.
“God I hope this is what heaven feels like-” he sighed, rolling his hips.
The cowboys sunburnt peach skin flushed a blotchy red around his cheeks. “m gonna come to visit more often- just to cum in this pretty hole of yours.”
“You've got an awfully dirty mouth coop’” you teased, sneaking a smile behind the round of your ass. This wasn't the first time the older ghoul had asked for favors, but always always always he cried like it had.
“not true, I followed my momma's instructions to brush my teeth every night” his grin peaked to the side. Hand quick as a flash landing itself on your rump, you let out a little oof.
“your momma did a piss poor job then..” You retort, lowering your chest to hit a more connected angle.
His knees settled down in-between your thighs. Spread apart with the rough indented and textured skin of his bare skin.
He settled back in his calves, his hand lazily finding its way back to your clit massaging it in small pulses, pinched beneath his thumb and forefinger.
With his hips settled back, the top of his head slid against one of your sweet spots, sending pulses like a fiddle string down your spine.
You burrowed deeper into the pillow, stifling the moans that threatened to spill from your lips.
He held a hand to your side that was surprisingly gentle. He bowed his head and curled inward- kissing the small on your back.
“This ok with you? May I get a little faster?” the ghoul has asked.
You let out a grunt of approval, backing your hips fully on his member. At this pace you became playful lifting your hips at the last second, eeking soft whines of content through his teeth. He tipped his head back, coopers warm hands snuck under the rope to brace your hip.
“Agh, fuck.” The rasps he made ached in your throat. “Darlin I can't do this, flip over.”
and so you did.
Between his ribs there settles a faint green glow, like some sort of demented lightning bug.
Cooper worked at getting the lower ropes off your legs allowing some freedom, but kept the ones that framed your chest. Your hand tied up to the bedpost like a malfunctioning bungee cord.
“There you are.” The ghoul cupped your cheek, his thumb drew small circles into its hollow. You laced your legs behind his calves as he entered again, precoating your walls with pre-come.the cowboys eyes became half lidded and fluttered, he was going insane just being inside you. His hips were an attempt at a measured pace, speeding up every once in a while to keep you on your toes.
The older man leaned down to kiss you, his lips and hands clung to you with a sense of rushed intimacy. The smell of your sweat clung to his rope and to his skin promising domesticated life of sorts, if he just stayed.
You hitched your knees up above his hips, the edge of the bed thumping into the wall behind you. Cooper leveraged himself a bit more sinking in quickly making your thighs sting.
He quickly rutted his hips, the ghouls hands cupping your contorted face as clicks of irradiated sweat fizzed around you.
You felt light headed, a dull throbbing pulsed through your mind. You could barely keep your eyes open to hold contact without them shutting or rolling back in their sockets.
“Coop-” you whispered, “holy shit I'm close- you're gonna break me sweetheart -”
“Ain't that so? That's a shame hm? That you have to wait?”
“No-” you whined, clenching your jaw “no please- coop- don't-” your mind ran like a panicked rabbit instinctively rocking your hips back down. Sticky sweat clung to you, droplets sidling down your hips like a rain shower. You sounded exhausted, covering up your eyes with an arm as you continued to mindlessly back into him
His hand drew circles on your hip, moving up to your lower belly and pressing down. Cooper raised his arm up to wipe the sweat off his brow.
“Want you to feel every little sensation.” His tone was staccato and clipped. “God you're so tight- enjoying yourself huh?” his smile grew as he watched you melt into a puddle before him.
“Coop-” something ripped out of the bottom of your chest, vicious and animalistic, you barred your teeth, squeezing around him taut as wire.
The cowboy was relentless, teeth sinking down into the alcove of your neck monitoring the fogginess of your pupils
The light flooding the windows with gold sunk down to a murky violet, a bright orange sun sitting center on the smoky horizon like an unfried egg.
“I'm so close, baby.” he pleaded in a soft tone “just a bit more.”
Your grip tightens on him. “Coop I can't-” your sentences slur, your mind cramping from a quick release. Your walls pulse repeatedly. Your lips pull back, framing yellowed gritted teeth.
He leans back, Pawing at your chest on his haunches. His hips patterned like a bumpy ride on a caravan, a two tap system as he stretched through the tighter ring near your cervix. Everything in his mind screamed to knock you up, a sham of the biological drive to have children and settle down. He would hope the call of domesticism would be satisfied by orgasm. A measly offering at best
He leans down, licking up the side of your chin and gathering a drop of sweat. He groaned softly, his hips jutting and staying there for a second. Your walls cramped down around him begging for another release. His hips slowed to an easy trot, keeping the pace steady and easy on your walls. His head curled into your neck, wheezing quietly like a ghoul on the verge of ferality. Cooper throbbed and pulsed, knotting his limbs into yours. You could feel every ridge and crease of him inside you, memorizing it like a map.the sides of your walls stung with arousal and numbness from overstimulation, it was a very fantastic and overwhelming sensation.The older man groaned into your ear as you squeezed down again on him. Completely entranced by the way you felt around him. His lower lip jutted out as he chewed at the side of it. His eyes were soft round and watery, bright white sclera seeped with yellow and red in their inner corners. The bed creaked softly underneath the relatively gentle rocking. The ghoul kissed up your neck, keening out into the crest of your ear. “God I think I may come sooner than expected” he grunted nibbling on the outer shell of your ear. He felt like he left orbit, and his skin set aflame. He set his body flush against yours, the lower half of his belly pressed against your clit. You flinched at the sensation, shooting lightning bolts down your thighs and heating up the already soggy air around you. Your legs peddled and extended down intending the sheets, flexing around his hips to tugging at the mix of stockings that held your arms back. Cooper's movements became a lot more quick and erratic, slamming himself down to sheathe his length fully, crying into the alcove of your neck, he shook as he wheezed our breaths of submission to the will of domesticity. He pushed his hips forward, the ropes of cum painted your walls. He pinched his lower base and jerked off into you, pressing everything into your folds. The ghoul then lowered his head and kissed you, the hiccuping sensation of rocking his hips back into yours due to a stimulant that was so salivating to him.
“God, doc. What a trip, and what a treat you are.”
“Have I made you a changed man, cooper?” you could barely keep your eyes open a fucked out sort of exhaustion taking hold
The older man shrugged, “I'll sleep on it and consider.”
He sighed, reaching over for a towel that lay on the ground and pulling out, and cleaning you up. He tossed the towel again, and landed himself next to you. “c'mere’ I'm not evil enough to leave you short handed.” He curled around you, his hand fitting in the crease of your hip. And that's where he stayed until dawn.
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