#Cooper howard fanfiction

[finniestoncrane]

Pornstar!Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, multi-part au fic cooper howard is a former actor, novice pornstar, and current wasteland escort. reader mistakes him for a bounty hunter and ends up getting far more entwined in his lifestyle than they intended in a bid to get what they need from the first 'kind' person they've met in a long time🤎

☢️ Chapter 2: Misunderstanding, word count: 4.7k reader is just about the simplest, sweetest thing that's ever gone on a journey to find a bounty hunter who can get revenge for her. unfortunately, she doesn't find the bounty hunter she was looking for. fortunately, she finds cooper howard instead, which i think we can all agree is a blessing Chapter 1 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: unprotected sex but cooper can't get you pregnant and i doubt any diseases can survive in his blood stream, lil bit of angst, one night stand with feelings, fairytale style connections here like pussy so good it has a man questioning the existence of soul mates

Your feet were no longer willing to participate, and you found that much of your energy was going towards convincing your lower half to keep going, even at the painfully slow pace you were struggling to keep. Trudging along what was left of the highway, you wondered how much of the difficulty was physical, and how much of it was the mental block. Because for all the effort it had taken you to get this far, with the end goal in sight you were beginning to reconsider.

What were you even going to say when you found the man you were looking for? 

“Hi, I’m looking to hire a bounty hunter, and I’m told you’re the best.”

Far too formal. Almost pleading. He’d know you were someone he could take for a ride immediately.

“Hello. Are you a bounty hunter? The famous one?”

That sounded like you were about to ask for his autograph before you asked if he could take on your job.

“What’s up, good sir. Are you by any chance willing… to… do…”

“Fuck.”

You’d had this entire journey to figure out what you were going to say, and now you were so close to reaching the settlement marked on your map and you were, if anything, less prepare than before.You couldn’t even blame it on distractions, because aside from a few standard dangers, it had been smooth sailing. A small mercy you were incredibly grateful for during the journey. And yet, instead of putting that time to good use, you had daydreamed your way along broken highways, beating the occasional radroach to death with your tire iron, and willfully ignoring what you had set out to do.

It just seemed so dangerous. So seedy. 

But unfortunately necessary.

Four times in the past three months, your quiet settlement had been attacked by raiders. Crops were destroyed and stolen, four brahmin were killed, and almost all of your prized possessions had been taken. It was only by sheer luck that they’d missed your stash of caps under the floorboards, and you’d vowed to use that to get your revenge. It was only this deep, burning desire for justice that had kept you going the past few days. Walking and walking and walking, interspersed only with fitful, uncomfortable sleep. You’d barely eaten, barely drank anything, and you were running low on supplies. But the signs for the next settlement were there on the walls, ushering you in, promising you food, rest and a solution to your problems. 

That was if you could convince the solution to do what you needed. 

And that itself hinged on your ability to recognise the bounty hunter.

“Oh, you’ll know him when you see him.”

That’s what the mayor of your settlement had told you. And what kind of advice was that? 

It’s not like there was a uniform they all wore. And as far as attitude went, what were you supposed to look out for? Handy with a gun and a cruel, cut throat demeanour? That was everyone in the Wasteland.

As you entered the large town, a settlement thriving somehow, you decided the bar was the best place to start your search, and the lure of having a drink, surrounded by voices and music, was far too enticing. There was nothing like that back home. Travelling traders and the makeshift common house was as close as it came to any kind of socialising or excitement. And while you were here on business, and rather serious business at that, you felt like you deserved a reward, a little bit of something to look forward to.

The bar gave everything that you hoped. The minute you walked through the door, you were quickly distracted by a fight that had just broken out. It was stopped by someone you assumed was working security who smashed the heads of the two men involved against the table, and then carried them through to a back room, one over each shoulder. A few people looked up from their drinks or away from their conversations to take you in, none of them settling for too long. This was a trading town, strangers came in and out all the time, you weren’t special here. You blended in. It felt nice, actually, not to draw too much attention. 

Sidling up to the bar, you asked for a water, deciding that quenching your thirst was a better option than beer, and settled into your crooked, wobbling stool. You couldn’t help but smile as you sipped at your cup and looked around the place. As dark as the reason you were here was, it felt like it had given you purpose, meaning. You were on a noble quest. The excitement was dulled, however, as you looked to your left and noticed the man beside you. Only then did the seriousness of your journey settle back in, heavy on your shoulders. 

The stranger next to you had shielded most of his face with a worn cowboy hat, one that was frayed and aged, but his skin was still visible, telling of his kind. A ghoul. The scars that marred his cheeks, sunken eye sockets, and no nose to make up his side profile. He was sipping at a dark liquid in a chipped glass, holding it with gloved hands. His body was covered mostly by a tattered duster jacket, but below it there was a glimpse of blue and gold, hidden under a thick, leather waistcoat. 

He certainly looked the part. The thought made you feel guilty, as though you had judged him based on his looks alone, but that was all you had to go on. Either this was the man you were looking for, or he was bound to know where to find that person. So you took the risk and tapped on his shoulder. 

Immediately, you understood that you had made a mistake, as his dark, brown eyes focused in on you, his lips curling into a sneer. 

“I will be polite, since you look like fresh meat, but do not touch me.”

“I-I’m so sorry, I just-”

He put up a hand, silencing you. 

“I only speak by appointment, darlin’.”

As he turned back to staring into the space in front of him, you decided you’d already come far enough not to push, just a little. Besides, the attitude, the way he spoke, the suggestion that he took on appointments. You were so certain that he was the man you were here to speak to.

“Well… you don’t look too busy right now…”

“You got ten seconds before I take this glass and make an awful mess of you.”

“I want to hire you! Please, just… Can I buy you a drink, Mr…?”

He looked down into his glass, almost empty except for one large gulp, which he swallowed with a sigh before he pushed the glass forward.

“Name’s Cooper.”

“Cooper. So…?”

“Whisky.”

“Whisky. Right. Thank you!” 

Cooper watched as you attempted to make your voice heard over the noise of the patrons in the bar, intrigued by you, far more than he would have liked to admit. Usually, clients were all the same. In town for the night, passing through, a regular. It didn’t matter, they were all there for a reason, and they wanted to get straight to the point of it. He preferred that. No beating around the bush, at least not until they had paid him. 

“Here you go! He said that was the best they had… it was expensive, so I hope he’s right.”

Eyeing the liquid, Cooper swirled it and grimaced, and when he raised his glass to drink, you copied him. The swig was lodged in your throat, a burning, painful taste that lingered at the back of your tongue and had you coughing and spluttering. From beside you, you could hear Cooper’s cruel chuckling, finally smiling, albeit at your expense.

“What’s so funny? What? Do you actually like the taste of this?”

“Oh, darlin’, don’t get yourself all worked up. I just find it amusing that someone like you would want to hire someone like me, that’s all.”

“And why is that?”

Cooper sighed, setting the glass down on the bar and turning in his stool to look you in the eyes. His gaze was intense, his eyes soulful, deep, focused.

“I just don’t think you’re lookin’ for what it is I can offer you.”

“Really? Well, what is it that you can offer me then, and I’ll tell you whether or not I can handle it.”

With a wry smile, Cooper nodded towards the bartender.

“Why don’t you go rent a room and I can tell you all the things I can offer you.”

That settled it for you. He was definitely the guy you were looking for, or at least, the kind of guy you needed. Secretive, trying to act threatening, scarier than he might be, to let you know how dangerous he was. He would be perfect. So you smiled back, hopping off your stool to go and speak to the bartender who gave you a key and a room number. By the time you had turned back around, Cooper was already making his way to the corridor, and you rushed to catch up to him. 

“Room number… five.”

“That’s a nice one, in the centre of the hallway, so it’s kept warm.”

“Uh…huh…”

He seemed to know it well, the whole space, as he confidently took the key from you, opened the door, and ushered you inside. That certainty with which he held himself, the confidence that flowed out of him, it was so oddly enticing. And as he settled himself down in a chair in the corner of the room and lit up a cigarette, you realised that you found him quite attractive. Bravery, danger, those soulful eyes that held what you could only imagine were decades upon decades of secrets, of history. Plus, despite his cold demeanour, he was oddly charismatic. You assumed that’s how he got by in this town, or any settlement. Usually, ghouls weren’t welcome, but Cooper seemed like the kind of man who could charm his way into anywhere. 

“So, what is it that you think I can do for you, sweetheart?”

You’d been staring at him blankly for a minute or so, watching as he commanded the space, relaxing himself into it. If he didn’t have years of being a fetishised novelty to back him up, he could have sworn that you seemed genuinely attracted to him. It had been so long since someone had looked at him like that, a blush on their cheeks, taking in his personality as well as his scarred and interesting body. 

Truthfully, he was looking forward to this himself. He’d have been lying to himself if he denied that you were his type. A little naive, sweet and cheerful, perfectly corruptible. But it was more than that. Your eyes seemed gentle, understanding. A trait that was hard to find these days. A look of the past about you, likely your upbringing. Those smaller settlements up in the hills were generational, clutching to what their ancestors had known before, living on kindness and the American spirit. THe nostalgia settled in his gut as he took you in. 

“Ok, so! Raiders.”

“... Raiders?”

He raised his brow, questioning you silently. It had been a long time since someone had asked for any roleplay in their encounter with him, and he could hear the jingling of caps as he wondered how much he could charge you for that.

“Yeah, raiders. They’ve attacked my settlement four times already.”

“And… they took you hostage? Kept you as a prisoner?”

“N-no… why…? No. They keep destroying our crops.”

“Oh, so you’re hungry.”

“I mean… yeah, but most of all I just need-”

“Need a little relief from all the stress you’ve been under?”

“I guess so, but not before I’ve solved the problem. What I really need is a bounty hunter.”

Cooper raised his hands, silencing you, a confused look on his face.

“I’m gonna stop you there, missy. This is verging on an acting job, and I don’t do those any more. Now what do you mean a bounty hunter?”

“Sorry… I don’t… what is there not to understand? I figured that’s what you did… isn’t it? Hunt bounties? Someone told me I could find a guy here that was good with a gun and-”

“Oh, you gotta be fuckin’ shittin’ me!”

He let out an exasperated laugh as he stood up from the chair and walked to you by the door.

“You think I’m a fuckin’ bounty hunter?”

“I thought… but now I’m sensing that you’re not in fact a bounty hunter.”

“Yeah, you got that right at least, lil lady.”

“So what are you then?”

“I’m an escort.”

You didn’t want to be presumptuous, and you couldn’t quite believe what he was saying, so you sought out some clarification, much to his dismay.

“So you… you go with me to get the raiders like a chaperone?”

Cooper stood in front of you in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at your perceived stupidity. 

“No, I ain’t escorting you anywhere except to this bed. Or the floor. Or against the wall.”

“Like sex?”

“Yeah. Like sex.”

You had so many questions, and not one of them felt appropriate. He just didn’t seem like the type of person who was well-suited to that particular line of work. Of course he was handsome, and there was that alluring, cruel nature that you found so beguiling, but his exterior was so rough and cold that you couldn’t imagine a lot of people getting past that.And with that thought, you wondered if he considered you to be that kind of person, someone who would shrug him off based on his demeanour, or worse, his looks. 

“Why were you so surprised about me wanting to hire you then?”

“Well, darlin’, you just don’t strike me as the wild type.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Means I usually only offer my talents to the people who want something a little weirder than what’s on offer elsewhere. Kinky folks, someone looking to get a bit freaky.”

“Huh…”

He didn’t know you well enough to make that judgement, and it smarted a little. And you were learning more about yourself too, because you were interested in him. Even before he’d revealed to you his line of work you’d been finding yourself stuck in a trance by Cooper. Of course you’d already reasoned that he would never be interested in you, but now that you know his affections could be bought…

“Is that all you brought?”

Speaking of money, Cooper had begun to rifle through the stash of caps that you had laid down on the dresser beside your backpack. 

“Uh… yeah. I thought that would be enough.”

“This would barely cover my fees, and you were gonna try and hire a bounty hunter for that? That is just about the stupidest god damn thing I’ve ever heard.”

You stepped to him purposefully, pulling the caps from him and putting them back into your bag. Even with your little quickfire crush, you found yourself irritated by his constant, snippy remarks. 

“Listen, I had no other choice. My settlement is struggling, this is all we had left after the raiders. I was hoping that someone would take a little bit of pity.”

“Sounds like the plot of some corny old cowboy movie.”

“Makes sense now, me thinking you were the bounty hunter, hm?”

Gesturing at his outfit with your hand, you let your eyes take him in from the floor up, and when your gaze settled on his face, you noticed him stepping closer, leaning into you. 

“I ain’t just some cowboy, missy. I am the cowboy.”

The way his voice lowered for emphasis, growling in his throat as he spat the words out at you with every intention, made your body flush with heat. A near immediate clenching formed in your gut, a tight coiling as you felt your saliva collecting against your cheeks. If you didn’t ask, you’d regret it forever. So you swallowed your nerves and spoke.

“So, can you do anything for me then?”

“I can do plenty, sweetheart. I can give you an earth-shattering orgasm and something to think about on your travels back to your little settlement. I cannot kill someone for you, but I can make you forget your troubles for a little while.”

“A-and… I have enough for that?”

Cooper grinned, more of a smug sneer than anything that resembled genuine happiness. 

“Are you asking to hire me for these other talents, then?”

“I guess so. Can I?”

“Hey, you got the money, then you’ve got me.”

You reached for your caps once again, handing them all over to him and watching as he put them into the pocket of his coat. All of it gone, in a moment of weakness over a man you’d just met. Before you could resent the decision too much, though, Cooper began shrugging off the long, duster jacket, your caps jingling as he did so. With it off, you could get a better look at his tarnished outfit underneath. He looked even more like a cowboy now. He hadn’t been lying before. Everything about him reminded you of those old holotapes you’d seen, the tarnished posters on the walls of buildings, or in the thankfully spared comic books you had been able to read. 

Noticing that you were just standing there, staring at him, Cooper broke the silence. 

“You look nervous, and I am a busy man. Shall I get things started?”

You weren’t even aware that you had started nodding until he was in front of you, fingers pulling at the material of your shirt and untucking it from your pants. He really wasn’t shy about it, no hesitation at all as he teased it up and over your head, already working on his own.As you stood there, awkward, exposed, he tossed his shirt to the side and began working on his belt, unbuckling it as you watched him. His body was lean, but not slim. The scarring on his face followed over his entire body, covering him completely. Each little line and ridge in his skin looked tempting, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers along him, to feel the texture against you. 

Cooper was quick to fulfil that desire, wrapping his arms around you as he worked at your pants. The embrace felt warm, and you couldn’t help but let your own hands travel around to his back, stroking up and down his spine as he pulled your pants down, letting them fall to your knees. As you stepped out of them, kicking them to the side, Cooper did the same, stopping briefly to take you in fully as you admired him in return. 

His cock was average in length, thicker than most, but what intrigued you most, once again, was the way it might feel against you. Ridged, tickling, with a stretch. You could feel yourself drooling at the thought, only pulled back to reality by Cooper’s voice.

“A quick disclaimer: you’re not going to get pregnant, and my blood kills diseases. I’m clean, so anything wrong with you, you can’t blame me.”

It was an oddly comforting statement, and solved a problem you hadn’t thought of until then. You nodded, standing in an awkward silence until Cooper spoke again.

“So, where do you want it?”

“I, uh… on the bed, I guess?”

“Well, that answers that question, but I meant my cock.”

“Oh! Maybe… uh… I…”

Cooper interrupted you, putting you out of your misery as you fumbled around for the right words and the bravery to ask for what you wanted. 

“Listen, just… lay on your back and spread your legs so I can get to your cunt. Nothing too adventurous for you, I think.”

You did as you were told, thankful for the instructions and his easy way of speaking them, even surprising yourself at how enjoyable you found the vulgar way he spoke to you. Everything about him was a little bit vulgar, though. But all the same, exciting and attractive, only fueling your arousal as you watched him spit on his hand, a long strand of drool connecting from his lips to his palm, before he stroked it along his cock. 

“You good?”

“Skill wise, or-”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes. Yes…”

With a roll of his eyes, not quite the look you had hoped for admittedly, Cooper lined the head of his cock up with your slit, pushing the tip past your folds and into your cunt with a soft groan. You were tight around him, stretched by his girth, and the way your fingers clawed at the mattress gave him a feeling of accomplishment already. 

Already, this felt different to him. You kept your eyes focused on him, when they weren’t closing against the pleasurable pain of him thrusting his cock into you. And not just to take in his body, instead, you were looking into his eyes. It felt like he was being seen for the first time in a long time. 

At one point, a soft smile crossed your lips, almost shy, and it pushed a grin to his own lips. It reminded him of someone from so long ago. Someone who looked up at him, body exposed to him, admiration and giddy glee in their chest. From that day, the last one. He couldn’t remember her name, but he remembered how she made him feel. She was sweet, and she saw him for who he was, not what he’d become. And given what he’d become now, he could be certain that it was the last time someone had seen Cooper, until you. 

Cooper grunted as he pushed himself deeper into you, up to the hilt, his hips pressing into you, hands on either side of your head against the bed. Everything about you was enticing. The soft giggles you let out, deep, breathy sighs as he worked at you, half-lidded eyes that sparkled with joy as they took him in. Usually, he was good for a solid half hour of pleasure, well worth the money he charged, but he could feel himself coming undone already. 

“Cooper… this is… you’re so good.”

Usually, he wasn’t one for speaking during sex, unless he was paid extra. But he indulged himself in your praise, wetting his lips and pushing past the grunts of exertion to ask for more. 

“Yeah? Tell me then, darlin’... tell me how good it feels.”

Your words spilled out with surprising ease, given how shy you had seemed. Kindness was clearly natural to you, and Cooper was incredibly grateful for it. It was beginning to feel like less of a job, a task, a need to get you fucked and out of the door and more of a genuinely pleasant experience for him. The more he considered how good it felt, to be touched, to be held, felt, appreciated for more than just fulfilling a kinky niche, the faster his rutting got. He wanted this to last, wanted the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock, your body warm under him, your eyes trained on his, to last for as long as possible, but it wasn’t easy to hold himself back. And it seemed less likely that you would be able to hold on either, as you had begun whimpering, fingernails scratching at the sheets, your hand finding his and clinging to it as you began to jerk your hips into him.

With a sharp hiss that opened into a shriek, you felt yourself reaching your climax, clenching around him as you quivered, your body electrified for those thirty seconds of extreme pleasure, your body overwhelmed with the sparking sensation that had you tingling all over.

When your breath was steady once again, you reached a hand up to Cooper’s cheek, holding it there and stroking his cheekbone with your thumb, enough energy left to utter one word.

“Wow.”

The way you uttered that one word was enough to push Cooper to his own orgasm. There was more kindness and genuine feeling in it than anything he’d heard in the past two hundred years. And as he felt himself being emptied inside of you, he couldn’t help but hit an incredible low, realising that it was over already, before he had begun to properly appreciate it. So he sank down into the mattress, rolling over and settling in next to you.

Laying there, your body cooling in the wet patch under it, you could barely speak, but you pushed past your heavy breaths to get at least one thing out.

“Thank you.”

Cooper kept himself as still as possible, letting his body come to a regulated pace, trying not to react to the words he was sure he had just heard you say.

“Thank you.”

No one had thanked him, for anything, for a long time. And least of all for his efforts in sex. The only reason he really made it, so to speak, was that he was a niche commodity in the world of sex. There to be used, to get off on or with, and then to leave again. And if he thought too hard about it, no one had ever thanked him before either. Not Barb. Not his co-stars. Not the directors who he performed for. No one. Was he actually good at it? Talented? Had he now fucked so much that he was an acceptable lay? Or were you just an outlier? Connected to him in a way that made it good? It seemed far more likely, given that he himself had found it far more pleasurable than anyone else in the last two hundred years. But that thought was a difficult one to process, so he rolled over in the bed in a bid to avoid those feelings, focusing so hard on the bare wall in front of him that he fell asleep remarkably swiftly.

Noticing that his breathing had slowed, a soft snore occasionally rumbling over his lips, you stood up from the bed and moved quietly and carefully to the sink in the corner, filled with old, stale water that felt cool against your skin. You didn’t want to risk waking Cooper, mostly because he looked like he needed the rest, but partly because you wondered what you would say, if anything, after what had just happened. So you took a seat to try and ground yourself.

From the chair in the corner of the room you watched him for a few more moments, perching there as you considered everything that had happened that day so far. A journey wasted, in some ways. But now you had an experience worth remembering, truly an adventure. It was almost difficult to imagine it as a one-off though. A singular event, never to happen again. And as you watched Cooper’s body moving slowly, inhaling and exhaling soundly in his sleep, you realised the thought was actually quite painful. And silly. You’d only just met him. He did this with so many people, and you weren’t special. It would be foolish to let yourself think that. How ridiculously typical would it be for some naïve country girl to find herself attached to her first one night stand, with a paid professional no less. So, rather than face those difficult thoughts any longer, you collected your things up, stopping only to reach into Cooper’s jacket and take enough caps back to pay for another room. At the bar, you were given another key, and you headed back up to try and get as much sleep as you could before making the decision about the next steps in the morning. 

#fallout #fallout amazon #finnie writes #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fic #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard one shot #cooper howard smut #cooper howard imagine #fallout tv #fallout tv series #walton goggins #cooper howard x fem!reader

[leviathanleva]

Daisy

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader [DARK FIC]

Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.

But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...

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

[MDNI, Mention of Suicide, Smoking, Non-consensual Choking, Alcohol Consumption]

[6.6k words] 🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 9 "The Glass"

Good things never lasted.

You were going to get a bitter reminder of that little fact by the end of the day and looking back, you wished you’d just died the night before when you were happy.

Cooper had left before sunrise, rasped a few commands to stay put and that he wouldn’t be long, to talk to Mitzi if you needed anything and put it on his tab. You’d been too drowsy to consider the anomaly, him leaving you to your leisure, out of his sight for more than a few moments. Your answer had been barely coherent, muffled into the pillow as your body lay squished between the mattress and the ghoul. Sloppy palms had given your plushy hips a few squeezes, a brash peck or two to your shoulder and he was gone.

You awoke properly a few hours later, late into the morning. The bleary memories flooded back, but the warm sunlight and the clinking and buzz of life stirring from the main floor kept the dread from sinking too deep.

He’d be back, you weren’t abandoned, the leathery bandolier discarded on the couch said as much, it eased your uncertainty the moment you’d spotted it behind a curtain of messy hair. And until then, Mitzi would be your consolation. Harmless naivety had you imagining serving customers and clearing up tables while indulging in idle chatter together, counting caps and scribbling orders while immersed in a lighthearted repartee.  

After a prolonged yawn and a thorough stretch that earned a few satisfying pops from your back, you slid from beneath the heavy, woolen comforter. Your boots are neatly set on the floor beside the foot of the bed, tights stuffed inside one of them while your socks occupy the other; you fiddle with them, pull them on, and tie them securely.

A peculiar, but not unfamiliar symphony catches your attention and you peek out the window curiously. The huddled, snoozing brahmin from last night are now serenely moping around the front yard, grazing at the scarce weeds that sprout around the vegetable garden or sunbathing on the powdery ground. There’s a person tending the plants, clad in a large straw hat and baggy clothes, ankles deep in mud and with an empty bucket on their hip along with a pair of rusty sheers.

Fingers comb through your hair and pat it down to a barely presentable state before you rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll the stiffness out of your shoulders. Standing, you shake the numbness off and tap the tip of your shoes into the floor to set them in place.

The smell of coffee lingers, sharp and bitter, it leads you through the mouldering corridor and down the creaky stairs, into the bar. The music still plays and the shadowy figures are now nothing more than brooding travelers nurturing either a hangover or sleeplessness. Daytime is less kind to the appearance of the guesthouse, specs of dust can be spotted in the brash sunrays flooding through the windows, the time-touched signs on every bit of furniture are obvious now. The omnicity and furtiveness have vanished, all is mundane and regular; the cigarette smog yet persists, rivaled only by the stench of old grease being reheated to prepare the breakfast items from the menu.

“Cooper’s runt.”

Your head snaps to the bar and there stands a beefy woman who would easily beat most if not all her clientele in arm wrestling. A stick-and-poke tattoo of a cupid is proudly displayed on her shoulder, a mane of curly black hair is tied back into a low ponytail, beady eyes are eating you up like a snack and you instinctively straighten out some of the less defined creases in your dress.

“Uh…Good morning?” you bear an uneasy smile, hoping that her comment was one of bluntness and not hostility.

The gold in her mouth glints as she beckons you closer with a canine grin.

“Indeed a good mornin’. Not a single raider got cooked on the fence yesterday and m’ dogs didn’t stir all night!” leaving the pile of caps for later, she rests an elbow on the counter and extends a hand to you. “I’m guessing Mitzie was too hyper to give me a proper introduction. Happens sometimes when unfamiliar faces stop by, don’t mind ‘er.” you shake her hand with hesitancy and pull away too hastily for someone who’s trying to mask their intimidation. She scoffs at your skittish nature. “M’ name’s Monique, owner of this fine establishment.”

As if on cue with you sitting on one of the bar stools, a strikingly large hound pokes its head from behind the mass of stained coffee cups yet to be cleared for washing and greets you with a bellowing bark. You start with a choked cry and recoil as the furless beast strains forward with a twitching snout, eager to give you a good sniff.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Bucky, down!” Monique is quick to scold the dog and its once perked ears lower, the energetic whining, however, doesn’t waver. “What I tell you ‘bout scaring customers? You ain’t a pup no more.”

She pushes down on his massive head until he’s out of sight, but the visually grotesque mutt is far from discouraged. Carrying the heart of a Labrador, he���s set to complete his innocent mission of establishing a new friendship and add it to his vast collection.

You hear the patter of clawed paws and soon he reappears, having circled the counter and now eagerly sat beside your chair, beaming up at you while his curious nose pokes at the side of your thigh. Your first instinct is to stiffen, Bucky isn’t the only mongrel you’ve seen, but the rest had all been rabid and out for blood, driven mad by both homelessness and radiation.

“He don’t bite.”

You vaguely register his owner’s quip, attention glued to the shiny slobber being happily spread over your tights.

There are dogs like Cujo and dogs like Lassie and your caution was founded, but it was doing Bucky a disservice. Poor bud was pleading for a pat and a good belly rub. Gathering enough courage to still the shakiness of your fingers, you plant them gently over the pooch’s wrinkled forehead and let them rest there to see his reaction. He’s delighted, the stump of a tail on his butt almost vibrating when you reach to scratch behind his chewed-up ear.

“Good pup.” you mirror his doggy grin, lovingly assaulting him with both hands now and he’s happily melting against your leg, snout stuffed into your dress and dampening it with open mouthed, hot huffs. “He’s lovely.”

“Of course!” Monique shrugs with a prideful snort. “I trained ‘em.” she’s back to counting yesterday’s profit while comparing separate piles to the list of orders.

Once Bucky has melted into a satisfied puddle on the floor you’re left to awkwardly eye the place while mulling over what to say next or if you should at all. Without Cooper standing between you and the world, it became difficult to find your courage and be your own entity. You’d never been apart, you’d grown co-dependent and not only on his marvelous gunslinging but on his presence as a whole. Starting from him being your only means of familiarity and safety, to you clinging to him now as your single source of comfort. You relied on him for everything. If that bit of info had been obscured before, pushed to the back of your mind due to bigger problems needing solving, now it was blatantly obvious.

 The bartender was no danger, she was great albeit a little rough around the edges, and her pet being this friendly spoke more than words ever could. Still, a mental barrier prevented your voice from showing. You were mute and bolted to the stool until an event requiring a change happened.

“So you here to chat or can I getcha anything?”

Monique, the absolute angel of a woman, had finished up her daily counting of caps and was expectantly staring you down. You doubted she was aware of her kind act, but were grateful regardless because if she hadn’t spoken up you never would have, not for a while at least.

“Is there coffee?” you perk up at the offer, display the sweetest smile you can make up, and drown the dreary train of thought that had been on its way to ruin your day.

“Mitzie! Cup o’ coffee for Doe Eyes!” she leans back to holler at the kitchen door, then turns to you. “Ten caps.”

You had a nickname already, how quaint.

“Actually, can you put it on C –”

“– I’ll pay.” your second favorite ghoul steps out of the kitchen with a tray in hand and you were expecting her to be just as cheery as the previous night if not more, but she’s anything but. “You can make it up to me with a good chat, yeah?”

She’s looking at you with incomprehensible unease which sparks worry in your gut. There’s a weight to her movements, something fowl plaguing her that can’t be blamed on just lack of sleep, but by her droopy eyes, you can tell that’s also a factor.

“…Sure?” is all you manage before she sits beside you and pushes the steaming mug towards you.

“Ma, I’m sorry. Can you please serve breakfast for me? I’ll take over after this, just…” she doesn’t finish, the rest of the words between her and Monique are exchanged non-verbally and the stout woman flares up.

You expect her to say something by the way her jaw tightens and her beady eyes narrow, she doesn’t. Instead, she spares you a glance that lingers too long for it to be anything but disheartening and leaves. You follow her until she’s out of sight, made anxious by their queer exchange and vaguely acknowledging the unbearably scalding cup of coffee in your hands.

“Right…Before I say anything I want you to at least consider my words, okay?” there’s an urgency to her voice, she’s drumming her fingers over the counter, and her baby blues turned ghostly grey are glued to you to make sure your attention is solely centered on her. “This isn’t just me spouting shit to scare you off or stir trouble.”

It’s unnerving, Mitzie’s shift of character is turning your friendliness into apprehensiveness. You’d be empathetic to her perturbed state, but all emotion is overwhelmed by the incessant foreboding forming a lump in your throat.

“What?” you blurt while nervously tracing the edge of the cup. Shifting more comfortably into your stool, you lower until you’re nearly lying on the bar with ears strained and a whirring mind. “Mitzie, what’s going – ”

 “ – Promise me.”

There is nothing subtle about the way you’re etching closer to her, anyone with one good eye would spot the direness in your conversation. What you wished for was to know why there were such macabre undertones to her speech. A night had passed since you’d last seen each other. What could have possibly happened for her to look as though she was about to attend a funeral?

With the way she’s positioned, body directly facing you and her head slightly rolled to the side, she can easily switch from watching you to checking the entrance of the guesthouse. She does just that, gaze darting back and forth and waiting for something, anticipating. It’s nerve-wracking, makes your stomach coil.

What the hell is going on?

“I…Sure, okay. I promise.” you answer, obliging her in the hopes that it eases some of her worries. “What’s going on?”

She nudges you to drink before your coffee gets cold, then combats your question with her own.

“How long have you known Cooper?”

“Couple months…Why?” your best efforts to keep an even, soft tone fail and your reply comes out curt and snappy.

“What do you know about him?” she gives you no room to breathe, fires another inquiry even with your apparent skepticism towards the conversation.

The music and simmering liveliness are drowned out by the steadily increasing beat of your heart. Your surroundings fade, blocked from your peripherals until it’s only you, Mitzie and Bucky as he soundly snoozes in your feet. You envy him and his ignorance.

Her question does more damage than intended.

Truthfully, you know nothing of your short-tempered companion, you wouldn’t even know his name if it hadn’t been for the slip-up in Tillburry. You’d based his adamance of keeping you uninformed on his lack of trust, but by the incredulous way Mitzie had asked, you began doubting that excuse. You’d traversed enough land and shared countless nights huddled together, sharing a meal, sharing everything, watching each other’s backs. Surely by now, you’d earned the right to know at least his age, yet he’d revealed nothing to you. You light up the conniving musing with the scalding heat of your drink and let simmer away as you respond.

“I mean…Not much, but –”

“– Fucking typical…” she snarls, doesn’t let you finish, already knowing the answer, her gaunt features turn malignant, and the grimace she bears is bone-chilling. Mitzie checks the horizon beyond the freshly wiped windows, shifts uncomfortably, as if ladened by her uniform, and continues with urgency. “Listen to me, I know his words probably outweigh mine, I mean, we’re not really friends you and I. And you don’t have to believe me…but for your own sake I hope you do.”

She’s gesturing down with her hand, palms spread and visible to soothe your hastily dissipating patience. Your prickliness doesn’t wane and the more she tries to tame it while spouting gibberish the worse it gets. You cross both legs and arms, barricading your tumultuous heart from the trepidatious babbling and letting go of the politeness keeping the bubbling vulgar words out of your vocabulary.

To hell with manners and formalities if you were going to be interrogated without being given a reason why.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“He’s not a good man.” she whispers while cupping her mouth and it’s low, but with enough certainty for you to hear perfectly. “Cooper. He’s bad…real fucking bad.”

“You aren’t telling me anything new.” you shake your head with a series of blinks, unmoved. Her deciding to sit you down and work you up for a serious conversation to tell you this while Cooper is away instead of simplifying it to a passing comment while she’s working is more of a surprise than the information itself.

Was this fiasco truly about the bounty hunter’s moral compass? Really?

“You don’t get it…” she clasps a hand over her forehead with a pained expression and a groan, then lets it slide down to rub her eyes. “He doesn’t care about anybody. He sure as fuck doesn’t care about you. You just can’t see it yet.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it?” you deflect with a half-frown. “I mean, sure. He’s not great, but he’s been patient with me, he’s a good friend. He’s kept me alive so far when he could have left me behind plenty of times.”

“Yeah? Good friend?” there’s mockery hanging off every word, then Mitzie pauses as if debating whether she should say more. For a moment she’s mournful, regretful that she’s burdened with ripping apart the delusion you’ve lived in thus far. “So did he tell you he has a family?”

The world stops, you falter.

“What?”

To behold a human break from the utterance of so few words is a sad imagery.

“Told me one night when he was high off his ass.” her words cut deep, slice through your cool demeanor until you’re left bare before the raw turmoil that beats you down until you’re physically doubling over. She grips your hand as a reminder that she’s still there and not hurting you out of spite. “A daughter and a wife. He’s looking for them, Honeybee. He isn’t making friends with you, he’s using you.”

You look at her hand over yours. It reminds you of his.

“That’s not…”

Unlike her who is high on alert and jumping at every creak or shuffle, you’re far away. Ripped out of your body as her truths knock on your skull and try to sink it, you’re scrambling to regain feeling in your legs, fighting to remember how to move your lips to form a coherent sentence. Heat rises from the bowels of your stomach to the peak of your neck, nips at your ears until you’re conscious of their existence, and submerged in an almost deafening screeching.

“His daughter’s name is Janey. Ask em yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Searing pinches assault your scalp, you scratch them away, but more appear and you’re left pulling at fistfuls of hair to ease some of the pulsing tension rendering your vision doubled. You have to grip the counter before you tumble off the chair, any sign of balance or proper motor function is gone, overshadowed by that screaming that’s tormenting your hearing and making your teeth ache.

A daughter…a wife…

You’d had your tongue ravaging the mouth of someone’s husband. What the actual fuck. You would have let him take you if he’d so wished.

Cooper falls in your eyes then, his pedestal – desecrated, his value – diminished. You hoped the love would die, that your affection would flee just as fast as the shame had settled. But it doesn’t, he’d made damn sure you’d stay a loyal bitch, had worked your cogs from the start until you were enamored.

You felt disgusting, wanted to crawl out of your skin.

“Mitzie…” sullen, destroyed, humiliated, still you defend him, still you fight against the stinging reality that burrows into your flesh and writhes until you’re close to hurling. Still, you try to keep the halo above his head from completely cracking while gathering the pieces of your scattered mind, alone, of course, because you know he’d never do what you do for him. “That’s none of my business, neither yours.”

Preserving his reputation while yours crumbles away, pathetic. Have you no self-respect? No. Not when it comes to him.

“Yes it is!” she exclaims, spills too much too brashly in her frustration. “I saw you through the keyhole…last night.”

Her vigor fades at the repulsion plastered on your face. You rip away from her, refusing all contact except that of your hardened eyes burning into hers for answers.

“You were spying on us?”

The bridge she’d built between you was burnt, the gates to your impressionable mind shut before her. The trust she’d earned was stomped and left to rot. That single jumble of a confession thrown in the hopes of convincing you further tore apart any ounce of tolerance you had left.

With a slack jaw, she watches your lids close over guttural anguish and your mouth twitch into a thin line as you hold back the bitter betrayal from surfacing.

“Enough…”

Your voice is unrecognizable.

Fuck her. Fuck him! Fuck everything…

You should have never stopped at this damnable place.

“Wait…Wait, please, wait, wait, wait.” she clings to your arm before you’ve walked too far, baby blues dashing around random spots in search of a proper expression. “I was scared for you.” she confesses over hoarseness due to either a dry throat or uncontrollable emotions. She’s shaking you, desperate to make you understand and giving no fucks about how stupid the pair of you look or how much attention she draws. “You can’t trust him, please listen to me! He’s leading you to slaughter!”

“I don’t trust rats.”

Glistening with stifled tears at the absolute hatred in your snarl, Mitzie loosens her hold and her head dips. Too kind to push her away and leave, too hurt to accept her accusations as the truth, you’re stuck in a limbo of numbness and hollow pain. You’d urge her to cry if she’s so riled up, would have lent a shoulder and cried with her. But there is only so much a person can take.

Blow after blow, you’re left too stunted to express anything despite everything inside you twisting.

“There’s…a place.” she murmurs while tugging you to the stairs where shadows reign to hide both of you from curious onlookers and save you the trouble. “It’s half a day away from here. Super Duper Mart. It’s…It’s an organ harvesting business.”

“I’m not…Get to the fucking point.” you command, but your tone wavers and your mouth shuts before an unsolicited sob escapes.

“Please, let me go…Please…I can’t anymore…”

“Ghouls need a certain substance to stay sane. All of us do. Super Duper Mart sells it. Usually, we sell a kidney to get a few vials, it grows back in a day or two. Or a ton of caps, but not a lot of people can afford that.” she swallows something vile, and rearranges her next words in a way that doesn’t outright spit at everything you’ve known to be your existence so far, your false reality. “Or, we sell someone else’s organs.”

You shudder, lean against the railing before your knees give out, and suck in a shaky breath as the ice licks your spine raw.

“Please don’t…”

“Let me live a lie. Let me die happy.”

“He only stops here when he’s going there.”

“Mitzie.” your warning falls on deaf ears.

“You’re a product, not a person.” she chokes you with harsh facts, steers the reins of your sanity towards a meltdown and it doesn’t take long for your mouth to drip with blood from biting open wounds into your bottom lip. “Not to him.” she catches you when you wobble, blows at your face because you’ve turned ghostly pale. “You need to get the hell out of whatever shit he’s gotten you into. Leave before it’s too late.”

“Where the hell am I supposed to go? I don’t know shit about surviving alone…I depend on him for everything.” you croak and taste bile on your tongue.

“You could stay here…” she mumbles, salving over the gashes she caused. “Could always use another pair of hands, if you’re willing to pay for your supper in labor.” she pats your head, brushes the hair to expose dead eyes staring right through her, but that doesn’t stop her from playing hero. “I talked with ma already, and Cooper isn’t stupid, he wouldn’t pull a gun here. Just tell him you don’t wanna travel with him anymore when he’s back. Or I can do it, I don’t mind.” she’s so kind, a sweet deformed woman, a sisterly guide trying to save you from the jaws of the reaper. “You have a choice. You have a chance. Please…”

But you don’t want her. You want him.

You wave a deathly calm hand and draw an end to her verbal molestation. Whisked away by the last burst of energy available, your back greets her as you ascend the stairs, leave her and everything she’s thrown at you behind. Trapped into the premises of your head, you forget speech and hearing as she meagerly calls to you for an answer.

Uncaring for your mental limitations as she is, Mitzie doesn’t pursue. Maybe it’s best you contemplate your next actions in solitude.

Tear-stained vision leads you to the safety of your room before you crumble to the floor, looming over the toilet as you lurch spit and air. You wish to be rid of this entire experience, throw up everything you’ve heard and said.

Nothing comes out.

The ringing subsides along with all worldly sensations just a moment later as you lie limp inside the bathroom with eyes rolled into the back of your head. Darkness has consumed both thought and feeling, lulling you into still nothingness. Steady breaths cast a sheet of vapor over the cool tiles.

Woe is you, weak, pathetic thing, dreaming of adventure and independence, freedom and love. Here is your independence now, your freedom, your love, your pleas were answered. Take them. You’ve wanted them for so long… Take them now.

It’s the scratching that pulls you out of unconsciousness. Fingers twitch to life first, then your senses return albeit groggy and dull. You’ve no interest in company, but the single needy whine amidst the determined scraping makes you overturn that decision.

With no recollection of when you’d fainted or for how long, you’re whimpering and nurturing a heavy migraine.

Bucky, your savior, lets himself in happily when you manage to crawl to the door and open it. The mere sight of him, so glad to see you again and wagging that stump of a tail, draws the last straw of your composure. You claw at him until he’s sitting between your legs, resting a slobbering snout against your shoulder as you weep into his thick neck, possessed by ugly sobs that shake your entire being.

He snaps his jaws a few times, a gentle brute, as you hug him close and suffocate in despair and loathing until you’re spent. He stays with you when you stand on wonky feet and pop a Rad-X before taking a shower that lasts long enough to count for two. Ever loyal and eager, you bathe him as well while he tries to bite the water current.

A clean boy, the goodest of boys, the crutch to your broken self. He licks the droplets off your calves as you let your dress dry you off and don’t bother to towel your hair.

Nobody told you drinking on an empty stomach is a death sentence, but you’re desperate to quiet down your wounded soul and racing imagination so the outcome would have been the same. The bourbon is sweet against your throat, doesn’t burn one but this time and Bucky is a warm, soft pillow to your floating head once it becomes too heavy for your shoulders to bear. Tucked into the couch and comforted by nasal puffs as your companion drifts in and out of sleep, you’re too exhausted to keep crying but the dry, infrequent sobs persist.

An eternity passes before the dog’s ears perk up and you’re woefully unprepared for the discussion that is to come.

The light from the corridor is blinding. The ghoul is standing at the door, a dark silhouette whose shadow stretches far into the room and almost reaches you. A hand comes up to shield your eyes as you groan.

“Well, well, well.” he sneers and switches the lamp on for you to see the demeaning smirk. His expression as a whole is not kind, Bucky, the wonderful boy, is currently in his spot and Cooper isn’t one for sharing. “See you’ve replaced me already.” he gestures towards the exit, holding the door open, and spits a harsh command. “Get!”

You don’t want to be left alone with this man, preferring to leave along with the dog and it shows by the anxiety burdening your features. The alcohol lingers still, makes your limbs feel like stone as you sit up and rub at your reddened, puffy lids.

Your pulse is already picking up speed when he slumps in the chair opposite to you and lights a cigarette before tilting his head back. The question is readied on the tip of your tongue and you’re irritated because it’s so damnably difficult to voice it. You press an attentive hand to your neck to encourage something to come out while the other sinks into your thigh until the flesh changes color.

“Are you gonna sell me, Mister?” you shoot in between plans on how to approach the matter and let loose a curt breath, relieved that it’s out of your system.

The casual swaying of his knee stops.

He straightens up, abandoning his nonchalant posture to give you a good once-over with the smoke secured between his lips.

You’re an unmistakably macabre sight even under the weak glare of the dying lightbulb. Bloodshot orbs nestled into a saggy face, sucked-in lips framing a ghost of a frown, he couldn’t see how contorted your body was from behind the table, but by the hung shoulders and lowered neck it’s obvious the rest of you isn’t pretty.

There’s a great amount of bourbon missing when he decides to pour himself a glass midway through his examination.

But all those factors can’t compete with the title you’d used to address him.

Mister.

You hadn’t used that since you’d learned his name and it was the first red flag he’d picked up, a warning that something was terribly amiss, that something vital had occurred while he’d been gone and now it’s his turn to have a taste of it.

“I’ve entertained the thought.” he scoffs through a meager smirk. You give him a look that washes away all hues of jokingness, the tiny hint of concern he displays would have been comforting, but you’ve been disturbed to where his crumbs of affection are useless. His hat is tipped to one side, guarding his shifting expression as he asks: “Was goin’ on, Darlin’?”

You want to scream. Yell all that you’ve been told and beg him to assure you none of it is true because, for God’s sake, he’d kissed you the night before and now you know he has a family waiting for him somewhere. You want Mitzie to be the villain who’s causing mischief for the sake of it because he’s your hero and he’s supposed to save the day. Deep down, you know your wishes will go unanswered and maybe that’s why you don’t completely break down before him.

He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve anything.

“Are you going to sell me?” you repeat with more force and less uncertainty, fueling yourself with enough malice to keep you from backing out of the confrontation. You won’t falter, you refuse.

“Who you been talkin’ to?”

He’s evasive and it’s tugging at your nerves. Despite your desperation for answers, you decide to at least respond properly, you’re weakhearted unlike him, you’re prone to show sympathy.

“Mitzie.” a hand comes up to rub away the goosebumps on your upper arm and your gaze steers away from his. You’re not keen on putting Mitzie in the spotlight, but you’d rather be truthful, maybe it will push him towards reciprocating. Guilt sprouts in your chest before you curtly remind yourself that you’re not the bad guy here. “She told me a few things…”

His apprehensive visage turns vicious, lanky limbs become taut, and his clothes squeak in strain as he settles into a less open posture. If he’d had any intent on taking down walls to let you in, it had died by the utterance of that name. His lips are pulled back in a nasty snarl.

“Should’a stuffed a bullet down ‘er throat long time ago.”

It’s an insult to you and your intelligence, he’s painted you as gullible while dismissing Mitzie’s credibility without even giving a reason. He doesn’t need to defend his stance, either you believe him or you don’t and you have for the longest time, but when so much information has been thrown at your face regarding him and he can’t even refute the claims, you’re left second-guessing.

“You’d rather kill her than answer my question?” you’re revolted at his savage revelation and it shows in the twisted way your tone lowers. But you're empathetic even to the undeserving and watching him lash out like a cornered animal causes you to soften. “You know I’d trust your word over anyone else’s.” your attempt at reaching past the acidic, gruff exterior he’s hidden behind fails, he’s not interested in being vulnerable or deepening your bond, he’d rather stay a feral simpleton. Another insult, another stab at what you’d thought was a connection in the making. You swallow through a tight gullet, pained beyond belief. “You’re despicable.”

“Watch yer mouth, Missy.” he spits back.

He dares to scold you when he’s in the center of the dilemma. He demands respect when he’s the cause of the anguish poisoning your once hallowed spirit. He’s the problem and he has the audacity to treat you like a misbehaving child.

Angry tears weigh on your lashes, you grit your teeth to strangle a sob that threatens to rob you of all the authority and composure you’ve built.

“You never answered my question.”

The lamp flickers in an ominous prediction of his next words.

“And what if I do?” detached, cold; not a human, but a creature made of melted skin and unfathomable disregard for other beings speaks to you. A spiteful, ugly man who you’d grown to cherish so passionately is throwing bile at you because he’s not the misunderstood morally grey Superman you’d hoped for, he’s just a pile of shit and the best you could do is walk away. He’s terrible and he lets you know by continuing to belittle you and all the love you’d shown him. “Gonna snap outta your teenage dotin’ ‘nd see me the way I am?” with a cruel smile, he shrugs. “Told you I’m rotten, Sweetheart. Didn’t listen, did ya?”

You don’t regret what slips off your tongue next.

He deserves all the despair you’ve felt, the betrayal. You’ve long since drowned in hopelessness, submerged in scenarios of how you’ll go on without him as chances were – he’d probably leave after all this, his persona was unmasked, he had no reason to stick around anymore. He should at least be ashamed of his actions, but to do that one needs to have a conscience and so far he’s not shown signs of any.

You don’t mean to stoop to his level, but his ridicule is just that contagious.

“Janey?” a palpable pause, so thick with dread. You don’t leave it there; you plunge the knife deeper. “Is that really your daughter’s name?”

He’s on you in an instant.

Having lunged out of his chair, he’s squeezing your throat so ferociously you choke. He’s ready to kill and by the way his pupils shrink, he just might.

Demonic above you, forcing you down onto the sofa, he looks like he’ll rip you apart.

“Never say that name again. Ever!”

He’s a nightmare. His devastating grimace will forever stay burned into your memory. But for once you’re ready to fight back and you do so with vigorous hatred.

“Don’t touch me you fucking freak!”

You manage to slide your knees between your bodies and kick him with all your might. For the first time, your actions have an effect, he stumbles back, nearly knocks the table over. You’d thrown him off with such force it surprises both of you. Delicate things can also be fierce. But were you delicate? Not anymore, not like before. The wasteland had taken its toll on you, he had as well. Stripping you of all your beauty, now you were just like the rest of them – cruel, gross, burdened, haunted.

“Don’t ever touch me you manipulative, disgusting, vile – ” you jut a shaky finger at him, longing to berate him all night, but your voice cracks and you shut your mouth as if he hadn’t already seen how shattered you are.

You suck in a tattered breath and stand. The barrel of his pistol points at you as you lean closer, he cocks it without hesitation, but you don’t flinch, instead grabbing for the matches and box of cigarettes he’d left next to his now spilled drink. Maneuvering sluggishly, you sit on the windowsill, facing away as he audibly plops back in the chair and slams his glass into the table before pouring another batch of bourbon. Like drowning in alcohol could fix all this shit…

Typical for him, you’re not surprised.

Never in your life have you lit a match, but you’d rather waste his entire box than ask him for help. You pinch a smoke between your lips, your first and hopefully last, strike the match and it flares to life.

Bitter and chalky, leaves your tongue dry and your head light, a physical manifestation of death, you like the taste and the suffocating fumes that circle your nose despite the open window. You’re supposed to cough and recoil, throw it away because it’s suicide wrapped in paper, instead, you look back and toss the two little boxes to their owner, hoping to hit him.

The night is cold, the chill is pleasant against your skin, it sweeps away a part of the haze you’d been engrossed in during the day.

“You never told me you had a family.” it’s more of a shared thought than a statement; you stare up at the sky, dangling one bare foot into the air until the steady breeze numbs your toes. “Never told me you were looking for them.” your battle zest dissipates as you continue mumbling out the decrepit sorrowful melody of your heart. “Never told me fucking anything…”

“My family ain’t none o’ your concern.” comes a hiss from behind you to deter your scornful moping. You scoff at that, shake your head at your stupid, unwavering faith in him rather than his reply.

You’re still trying to find a spec of goodness after all this, it’s laughable.

“I thought we were friends…or…or partners.” you toss the cigarette bud when the flame scalds your fingers, let the smoke exit your lungs through a heave. “You’re supposed to share with me!” hands obscure your face from the world as you suffer through a few sobs and swallow mouthfuls of tears. “I care for you so much…I’d do anything for you. But you’re just – ”

He’s cruel though, whether screaming and kicking or on your knees crying, it makes no difference to him. He doesn’t care. Did he ever?

“We ain’t no friends.” he states it as the fact it is. “We ain’t nothin’.”

“You’re right…” you nod, giggle even as you wipe your cheeks dry. “Friends don’t sell each other for organ harvesting.”

You never heard the new batch of vials clinking in his coat pocket, didn’t see the freshly stitched scar in the middle of his back, where his kidney used to be. How were you supposed to know when he never told you anything?

So it comes as a surprise when he throws the spare glass and it shatters next to your head and makes you wince. His sudden burst of anger is a mystery and it’s his own fault.

For once he’d been good, for once he’d put someone else before himself and this is what he got.

 “You know what’s really pathetic?” you let go of a bitter laugh, wet and putrid, but it’s shortlived, you return to curling up and mumbling because he doesn’t deserve to know how precious he is to you, but you want to let it all out and be done with this. “The only reason why I’d be sad if you sold me is that I’d be away from you.”

“Don’t fuckin’ say that…”

A blip of something other than rage or mock, but he’s too late to the party. You’ve already dedicated to demolishing all that he’s poisoned with his touch, all his self-control and stoicism.

“I’d rather die by your hand than be taken away.” you glimpse down at the shards scattered next to your thigh to find your reflection in much the same state - broken. “I’m a coward, I guess. I never wanted this life…but I’m too scared to end it myself.”

Crack

Crack

The glass shatters in his hand, the only reminder left of the paradise from the night before, he’d broken both of them, first yours, then his. The pieces spread, deftly falling to the floor as the bourbon drips from the edge of the table.

 “Good night, Mister.”

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

🌼 Daisy Masterlist 🌼

Tag list: @bountydroid @windierhades @ultimatreality @gruffle1 @v3lv3tf0x

@fallout-girl219 @one-of-thewalkingdead @robin-the-enby @savanahc @whatthefuckkrichard

@rockst4rkitty @lisnamavka @lomlbillieeilish @itsyellow @cloudroomblog

@skykaykay @i-just-like-to-read @landlockedmermaid77 @enaelyork @maeplaysbass

@sgt-barnesveins @alastorsw1f3 @villainofmyownstory @thatcutewerewolf

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

[your-averagewriter]

"Only for you, darlin'"

Summary: Cooper heads into town in search for some RadAway for you when he stumbles upon a cute gift (Cooper Howard x fem!reader).

Word count: 1.0K

Warnings: needles, kissing (slightly ig)

-

-

Stalking through the desert, he heads towards the town in search of some RadAway for you, the radiation reaching too high of a level for Cooper to be comfortable with, especially in his presence.

His boots echo through the makeshift tunnel made of old tubing before sunlight peaks out of the other end, exposing the market on the other side, countless signs decorating the stalls. He pulls his hat down slightly in order to cover his irradiated face more, less because some people find it unsettling and more so people don’t recognise he’s a ghoul.

He walks along the stalls, searching for any RadAway and some other supplies that need topping up. 

Signs stick out to him yet none offer what he needs until he reaches a store with various niche medical supplies as well as bandages and the like. Walking up to the store, he looks over the small bottles and pills decorating the side but doesn't see anything Stimpaks or RadAway.

“Ay,” He gets the attention of the store owner. “You got any RadAway?” He asks, looking up at the man covered in shredded clothes. He shakes his head before looking down at what looks like an old graphic novel. “You sure? I got plenty of caps.”

“How many?” He asks, accent showing he’s not from around here.

“Plenty.” He reinterrates, shaking his bag causing the rattling of the caps and the man puts the graphic novel down, heading further into the shop before returning with a pouch of liquid with a strip of duct tape on, scraggly writing on it.

“I keep it in the back, people nick this stuff the most. 50 caps.” 

Cooper scoffs. “50?” He asks, confusion mixed with annoyance in his voice. “30.”

“45.” He counters. “And I’ll throw in a Stimpak.”

“Fine” Cooper counters and the seller sighs before pushing it towards him whilst Copper pushes the caps on the side. “And you got the good deal there, you should feel lucky I’m willing to pay for this.” He snatches it from the side, rolling his eyes before moving on to finding other items but glad he’s got what he came for.

Strolling through the town, he looks in the store windows, something catching his eye in a junk store. He pushes open the door, a bell ringing making him wonder if it’s a trap but why would there be a trap when someone is trying to sell junk?

“Hey darlin’, feel free to take a look around.” An old woman says, crazy hair covering most of her face making him feel uneasy that he can barely see her eyes. He nods before heading towards the window display, boots hitting the wooden planks underfoot noisily as they creak.

A toy rabbit sits in the window, no more than a foot tall with fluffy ears and a cute nose. He swipes at it, examining it and dusting it off before looking for some sort of price label.

“How much for this?” He turns to face the woman who pushes her glasses up, scrunching her nose as she squints at the item.

“8 caps, but for you 4. Who’s this for?” He pulls out another five caps and drops them on the table before carefully putting the bunny in his bag, making sure it’s tucked in and the clasp is shut properly. He pulls on the latch, checking its security. Secure. 

“My girl, she loves bunnies. Thanks.” He grumbles, walking out the store and off to the base again.

He walks back through the desert, kicking the sand as he goes, mumbling to himself and even whistling slightly. He lifts his hand to keep the sun out of his face as the base appears in his field of vision. Base is a strong word for a couple of broken down buildings just by the trees that are more secure than you would think. It provides cover and hides flames when it gets cold.

He can’t help the edges of his lips quirking up at the sight of the base and his girl.

Under an hour later, he returns to the base, stepping through the ‘door’. “Sweetheart?” He yells through the base.

“Cooper, that you?” You ask, sweet voice ringing through the walls.

“‘Course it’s me.” He grins to himself, following your voice.

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me come with you.” You say before being interrupted by a cough. After moments of coughing, Cooper rubs your back and once you start speaking, he reaches into his bag.

“Did you get a Stim-” You start but he passes it to you with a brief kiss to the cheek. “Thanks.” You smile before looking down at the Stimpak wrapped in a cloth. Taking it out, your eyes are immediately on the needle, you take a pause and deep breath before injecting it into your thigh.

Letting out a breath, you drop the used Stimpak and look back to Cooper who wears a smirk, holding back a laugh.

“What are you laughing about?” You cock an eyebrow.

“You ain’t scared of no mutants, no raiders, nothing but needles.” He chuckles, his accent prominent. “It’s cute.” He says before remembering the bunny toy in his bag. “I got you something in town.” He says, rootling through his bag.

“More RadAway?” You ask, knowing his paranoia about you getting too much radiation when being around him. 

“Yeah, but I got you something else too.” He pulls the bunny out of his bag. “Now I know it ain’t much, but I saw it and thought you’d like it…” He presents the bunny, quickly brushing off some of the sand from the journey.

“Aww.” You can help but coo at the cute bunny, taking it off of him and holding it gently, picking up one of the ears and letting it flop back down. “You didn’t spend too much on it, did you?” You look back over to him.

“Y’know it’s rude to ask about someone’s finances, sweetheart.” He teases. “Besides, the lady gave it to me for cheap, probably knew I was getting it for my girl.”

“Probably knew you were a softie.” You tease.

“Only for you, darlin’.” He picks up your hand and leans down, kissing it playfully.

-

AN: I can't believe I haven't posted anything for over three months… sorry I've had exams and extra and it's just been stressful so hopefully I can get a bit more on track.

I hope you enjoyed reading!

#fanfic #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x yn #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard x y/n #fanfiction #fluff #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x y/n #the ghoul x yn #the ghoul x you #fallout #the ghoul fanfiction #the ghoul fanfic #fallout x reader #fallout x y/n #fallout x yn #fallout x you #cooper howard #cooper howard x you #cooper howard fanfic

[expirednukacola]

ORANGE COLORED SKY 🏜️ || Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader

𐚁⊹₊ ⋆☆

My first fic about this bonafide work of ART! AKA The one and only, Cooper Howard / The Ghoul. This MAN has everyone lined up to get a taste so I am here to deliver! This is also a little surprise for @lexiway121!!! Reader is fem and in her mid-ish - late-ish 20s in this fic! This will also be a two part fic!! ..Maybe even more. SUMMARY: reader is little miss janey’s babysitter (cooper is going to need all the help he can get ESPECIALLY DURING A DIVORCE) and reader was invited to the kids birthday party (seen in the beginning of ep 1) as cooper’s plus two just to keep an extra eye on janey and the horse/sugarfoot. everything was nice until.. FLASH! BAM! ALAKAZAM!

chapter 1.5 : here!

og gif made by: @lousolversons !!

“Flash! Bam! Alakazam!”

“Out of an orange colored sky!”

The birthday party was going perfectly! You and Janey were standing somewhat near Cooper as he did his lasso tricks on his beloved horse, Sugarfoot. The birthday boy, alongside with his plethora of friends, were all staring and gasping in awe as the cowpoke twirled the lasso up and down to where he was inside of the spinning circle of rope. Cooper noticed their precious, little reactions and smiled back at his audience, a tender yet low chuckle escaping his throat.

Seeing how happy he looked and smiled as well, your cheeks became a tad bit blushed.. definitely from the L.A. heat — and that’s when Janey looked up at her and noticed how you, her babysitter, were smiling at her dad.. “Twitterpated..” -Was what the seven year old mumbled under her breath; she really needed to slow her roll on asking her dad what certain words meant. You, on the other hand, didn’t quite hear what Janey mumbled so you jokingly decided to peep out a little, “What was that, sweetie?” and all you got in response was an “innocent” little “Nothiiiiiiiing!”

After a few minutes of continuing his lasso show, Cooper got off his trusty stead and adjusted Sugarfoot’s saddle with such care while Janey rushed over to try and help her father. “Alright, birthday boy,” The cowboy said while looking at the VERY excited kid, “Let’s get a photo of ya up here on Sugarfoot.” As Cooper picked up the boy to place him on the horse while his daughter held onto the reigns, the birthday boy’s dad and his buddy, aka Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dipshit, start talking about Cooper Howard.

“Why the hell is Cooper Howard workin’ kids’ birthday parties?” The dad’s friend muttered as he held onto a bottle of some pretty cheap beer, and the dad responded with the most embarrassing answer known to man, “What else? Alimony.” The asshole said nonchalantly before he went back to nursing his shitty bottle of beer. That made Cooper whip his head around to look at the father with his mouth slightly agape, flabbergasted he would even bring that shit up at his kid’s party. To make things worse, sweet Janey popped up and asked the billion dollar question.. “What did they say, dad?”

Cooper looked down at his precious little angel with a quiet yet warm voice, “That I’m lucky to have such a good helper like you.” Poor, innocent Janey didn’t know what was going on between her Dad and Momma. All she knew was that she would have some very long weekends with her Momma and her Grandma and then she would go back to stay with her tired Dad.

Knowing what Cooper was going through and hearing those horrible words come out of that assholes mouth, you glared at the boy’s father so hard that he could fucking feel it. The dad looked back at you and rolled his eyes, pointing at you while muttering, “Some people say he cheated on his wife with his kid’s babysitter.” That was the last fucking straw and you wanted to smack the living daylights out of him. “Are you fucking kidding me, you goddamn pig-” You muttered but Janey quickly grabbed onto your hand with that same sweet smile she always had.

The anger that boiled inside of your body slowly began to simmer down into nothingness as you moved out of the way so the dad (AKA the head honcho of being an asshole) could take a photo of his son on top of the horse with Cooper standing next to him and little Janey holding onto the reigns, “All right- You ready?” The dad positioned the camera and even though the kid had a smile that was brighter than the 4th of July, the cowboy’s smile seemed.. off. Usually, Cooper would have these sweet dimples on either side of his mouth when he would smile real big for photos or when his daughter would do something extraordinary.. But those dimples weren’t there for these pictures.

Click!

After the photo was taken, the cowpoke carefully lifted up the giddy child from the saddle on Sugarfoot to the soft and lush green grass beneath them. Cooper was just about to check up on you and his daughter, but- “Hey, honey- Honey! Get with Cooper. Let’s get a picture.” -Mayor Asshat of Assville motioned the man to stand next to his wife. Though Cooper was a little awkward about the whole ordeal, he quickly posed up next to the wife and had that fake smile on his face once more.

Click!

“Aw- Coop, Coop, Coop! Do your thumbs-up.” The jerkwad ordered and right as you were about to intervene, Cooper (sorta) stood his ground and quickly responded with, “..Yeah, you know, given the state of everything, I prefer not to, if that’s all right.” But guess what? Señor Shit-for-brains wasn’t having it because being an asshole was in his damn genes. “Why not?” asked Count Fuckhead-ula, “It’s what you’re famous for.” he added right after but his wife, the one with common sense in the relationship, told “Bob” to drop it.

“We- uh.. We gotta get this rodeo on the road.” Cooper said with his head tilted slightly downwards towards the vibrant green grass beneath his worn leather boots while the boy’s mother handed him a check. Quickly, you grabbed onto the reigns that hung from Sugarfoot’s neck and clicked your tongue to get the horse to start walking. “..Well that was just fuckin’ lovely, huh Sugar?” Muttering solemnly under your breath, you walked alongside the sweet stead, tying the beautiful horse up to a tree so it wouldn’t run loose.

A good 5 minutes roll on by like a tumbleweed and You were walking around with Cooper by your side.. while the two of you were picking up giblets of trash left behind by some kids and adults. “I never thought that I was going to be doing this at a kid’s birthday party, Mr. Howard. Picking up trash after people is not what I had planned.” You stood back up after having to bend over to pick up an empty bottle of orange flavored Nuka Cola. “Oh yeah? What did you have planned, missy?” Cooper looked over at you with one of his eyebrows raised up and a smirk growing on his lips.. those gorgeous lips alongside those beautiful hazel eyes- “Uhhh- I don’t know? Maybe mingle with some of the parents and swipe myself a piece of cake. I heard it was chocolate cake.” A little smile grew on your face but your blooming happiness all went to waste when you saw “Bob the Shit Talker” staring at both of you through the window.

“But for a grown ass man to talk shit about us with his lil buddy and then having us pick up trash left by him and his guests was definitely not on my list.” You angrily sneered at the man who continued to glare at you two through the window before letting out a loud and deep sigh. Cooper, God bless this sweet man’s soul, quickly stood up and looked at you. “He did.. what? I knew he was talking shit about me but he and Mr. Clean were talking about you? ..Fuck- It was that rumor again, huh?”

The sweet-hearted cowboy looked up at the sky as if he were silently praying to God himself to smite down that piece of shit before he looked over at your slightly blushed to make sure you weren’t boo-hooing over something that wasn’t even true. He knew you didn’t have to answer him because the look of embarrassment on your face was all he needed to know.. but at least you weren’t crying.

After a few minutes of some much needed silence, you both made your way back to Janey, who was eyeing that delicious chocolate cake as she wrapped her own little lasso around her hand. You saw how Janey was looking at that cake.. and you started to look at the cake the same way the little girl was staring at that frosted piece of heaven.

“Why didn’t you do it?” Janey’s words snapped you out of your hungered staring contest with the cake. You looked down at the little girl that was looking at her father, who was now crouched down next to her. “The thumbs-up.” Oh shit.. She just accidentally busted open a huge ass can of Marine flashbacks for Cooper. At first, he tried to make her forget about it by telling her it was “grown up business” but those sweet, sweet eyes of hers were just too much for his heart to handle.

You crouched down next to the girl and gently placed a hand on her upper back, gently rubbing your thumb against the material of her button up’s collar. “Honey.. The reason why your dad doesn’t like having his thumb up is because-” Your words were cut off from Cooper clearing his throat and placing a hand on your shoulder, immediately making you shut up so he could be the one to explain it to his daughter. The older man explained what they taught him when he was in the Marines to his daughter, telling her that he and his fellow marines would hold up their thumbs whenever a bomb would drop. If the cloud of smoke was smaller than their thumbs, they had to run for the hills.. and if the cloud was larger than their thumbs, they wouldn’t even have to worry about running.

“..Who wants some cake?” You chirped out awkwardly while standing up, brushing your hands against your top before placing them on your hips. Janey’s eyes immediately lit up with absolute joy from the thought of having a slice of cake, and she quickly nodded her head with her hands clasped together. “I’ll see if I can snag you girls a couple o’ pieces, ‘kay?” The infamous cowboy stood up as well and walked inside of the house and you decided to join him to grab your own slice of heaven.

FLASH!

Once Cooper grabbed his daughter a slice and you grabbed your own, you two rejoined his little angel once more but instead of seeing her sweet smile shining brightly on her face, you were both met with her holding up her thumb and a horrified look on her face. Her body was trembling, her bottom lip was quivering, her eyes were tearing up, and when she spoke, she sounded like she was looking Death itself straight in the eyes..

“Is it your thumb or mine?”

…

“It’s just a fire..”

You could hear the dread in his voice and the sound of her little heart pounding against her ribcage as you followed their gazes to a.. large cloud of smoke and destruction. Your own heart start to rapidly beat profusely inside your body and your eyes widened in terror as a wave of radiation started coming your way. Everything felt as if it were in slow motion as you and Cooper both decided to crouch down to clutch Janey close to your bodies to shield her from any harm.

As the wave finally passed through, the glass windows shattered into millions of shards varying from large pieces to microscopic fragments and felt one of the medium sized pieces plunge itself into the side of your calf. “Oh GOD!!” A horrifying shriek of pain found its way from out of your body as Cooper quickly scooped both you and his daughter up in his arms, quickly running towards his much needed horse, Sugarfoot.

BAM!

Dread pulses throughout your body while your eyes darted across the scene around you — Parents with their sons and daughters in their arms, people running around aimlessly like ants after a menace of a child stepped on their nest, and the screams and cries of frightened young children wanting to go home. You’re pulled out of your frightened state when Cooper tried to push you up on Sugarfoot after he placed his daughter up on the saddle. “Cooper.. Cooper! No!! Get Janey out of here! You have to get her out of here!!” You pushed yourself away from him and stumbled back, your limp leg giving its all to keep you somewhat supported.

“Y/N- Get on the damn horse! I can’t just leave you here!” He tried to pull you back towards him but you limped back away from him once more. “You need to get her out of here, Coop.. Please.” Tears welled up in your eyes and they fell down your cheeks when they became too heavy for your eyes to hold. “Please.. Go- Get out of here!!” You pushed him away and back towards the horse, and you swore you saw him shed a lone tear.

As more bombs fell from the sky, you watched in grief as your beloved cowboy hop on his horse and grabbed on the reigns, immediately whipping them a little to signal Sugarfoot to get the fuck out of there — away from the chaos and away from the horror.. away from you. You dropped to your knees as you bawled your pretty little eyes until there were no more tears to shed.. and when you heard the faint whistle of a bomb dropping nearby.

ALAKAZAM!

This was the end, you thought. The end of the world, the end of your life, and the end of everything and everyone that you loved.. and the beginning of a new age: The beginning of a nuclear fallout. As you kneeled down on the green grass that was way too vibrant to be real, you tilted your head upwards and looked towards the sky, smiling one last time before your skin began to burn, your insides feeling as if they were being cooked at a thousand degrees, your voice becoming rasped and broken as you screamed in complete and utter agony. You took your final breath of irradiated air underneath that hideous orange colored sky.

THE END ..?

—————

thank you so much for reading the first chapter of Orange Colored Sky! i hope you liked it as much as i did and i hope you can excuse the.. nicknames i gave “bob” at the beginning (he deserved it though! he was an asshole for absolutely no reason.)

TAG LIST: @lexiway121

#cooper howard #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul fanfic #cooper howard fallout #cooper howard fanfiction #fallout #fallout amazon #expirednukacola

[youngtacoes]

Strangers, no more

Cooper Howard aka The Ghoul x f!reader

Author's note: this is a long one !! i've had this scenario in my head for a long ass time and i just had to get it out on paper. cooper isn't as cruel in this one, sorry if that's not your thing, but he can be soft sometimes too! fyi: reader is 18+ and everything is consensual! If you're only here for the smut you can skip toward the end.

Word count: 6,8k

Summary: Cooper is a bounty hunter struggling for caps and you need to be transported safely across the wasteland in "good condition", luckily it pays well. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: 18+ Mentions of r*pe, impregnation & torture, religious cult, angst, virgin!reader, losing virginity, graphic smut

~

It was getting bad, really damn bad. Days of good-for-nothing bounty jobs, vial after vial, cough attack after cough attack. He needed the caps desperately if he was to keep himself from turning feral anytime soon. He’d been taking small jobs here and there, just enough to keep himself at bay for a few days, but he knew he couldn’t keep going at this rate for much longer. He needed a bigger job, a bigger cash prize, a bigger bounty, but every time he stopped by the wall of people with prizes attached to them, he found himself disappointed in how low the numbers were. That is until he notices a fresh face staring back at him, hidden behind newer posters, large letters displayed across. "BIG JOB", and this one has an even larger number attached.

He steps forward, pushing the other posts away and rips the new face off the wall to study the number closer. Yup, he read it right.

Five thousand caps.

"Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered.

A young girl, maybe in her 20s. She looks well put together, innocent, and has a sincere smile on her face. For the first time in a very, very long time, he found himself wondering what her story was and why she was worth so damn much, but he didn’t like to dwell on it for too long. A job is a job, and this was going to be worth every damn cap.

On the poster, it states that she was to get picked up at the coordinates provided and to keep her in "good condition". Well, shit, that might just be the hardest part. The ghoul had never been one to take care of his captives, and most often he preferred if the poster stated "good dead or alive". This was definitely going to be different, and if it wasn’t for the "good condition" detail, he’d almost think it was too good to be true. Perhaps even think it was a trap.

~

It’s midnight, and you’re seated by your desk with a pen in hand, drawing carefully and concentrated on making art on this dirty sheet of old newspaper, but it was good enough for you. You drew flowers and insects from an old pre-war book about nature and their hidden treasures. You were always fascinated by the pre-war times, and though you will never know what it was truly like, you liked to imagine who you would’ve been back in those times.

It’s your way of forgetting about the current state of your life and the predicament you found yourself in. You were born in the wasteland, to a mother who did her best to protect you, but in the end, she had been brutally murdered by a group of raiders who attacked your farm, and you were taken captive by them at the age of 9. You spent a few horrid days with them before your current group found you and bought your freedom from them.

To be fair, you’ve been treated quite well by this group, and you thought you had a family in them at one point. That was until a few months ago when they decided you needed to be isolated from the rest for reasons you still didn’t quite understand. The leader of the group, Margot, had carefully selected you for a special assignment, and made sure to tell you the isolation was for your own good. Apparently you needed special treatment before a long journey to a sacred place called Halfway that was waiting for your arrival.

Your fellow peers would come and visit you to show their excitement, though you didn’t quite understand it, it must be something good with all the positive buzz that’s surrounding you. So your head got filled with all sorts of scenarios and dreams of where you were going and what luxuries you were to experience on this assignment. Though you had your doubts that it was all just a coverup for something else, you didn’t have any reason not to trust your group. They had been nothing but kind to you as long as you’d been there.

You’re startled out of your thoughts by heavy knocks on your locked door and a command shouted from behind.

"Lights out!"

You sigh at the command. "Yes madam!"

You don't bother packing up your drawing supplies, you'll be continuing with it tomorrow anyway, and the day after, probably. You find your bed and blow out the nearby candles.

Every night you can't help but wonder when your assignment and journey would begin. You had all sorts of feelings and questions about it, but every time you tried talking to Margot, she would give you answers that didn’t really answer anything at all, so you gave up on trying to figure it out a long time ago.

~

The next morning you’re awaken rudely by the guards coming into your room and practically dragging you out of bed in your dazed state.

"Wha- HEY-" you try to muster what’s going on, but before even getting a word out, you’re on your feet and Margot stands before you with her hands on her back.

"Morning lucky one. It’s time, the day we have waited long for is finally here," She's so serious in her delivery, it almost frightens you.

It’s happening.

"We’ve hired someone to transport you safely across the wasteland for your assigment, they’re here and won’t be kept waiting. Get ready in 5 and say your goodbyes, quickly."

Suddenly it feels like it’s all happening too fast, and a slight panic rise inside you. Margot must've notices your panicked stare, cause her features soften, and she steps closer to you.

"You’ve come so far, and I’m so proud of you,» She smiles at you with encouragement, "This is your moment, and I know you will succeed and make us all proud."

Her words give you enough to calm down before the panic escalated. And you give her a nod that you indeed got this. You can do this. You’ve done hard things before, this shouldn’t be any different.

"Yes madam," you say smiling back at her. She flashes you one last smile and a wink before turning and walking back out.

Outside you find everyone from your group waiting in the corridors. They smile at you, some coming to greet you, give you kisses on the cheek as you’re led out of the main building by the guards. It’s all a bit much, but this must be pretty big deal. Margot waits for you by the gate to your commune, but she's not alone. A dark figure stands just outside, looking impatient.

You’re filled with scepticism as you walk up them, but you have to put your trust in her. She notices you and takes a hold of your hands with a smile.

"You will do great," And the wave of panic that had a hold of you before, washes off of you completely. You nod confidently now, and you start believing that this is actually gonna be totally fine.

You feel the dark figure moving closer to you, his hat covering his face just enough to keep him anonymous for the time being. He still looks terrifying, but you have to trust this man is here only to protect you on your journey to Halfway, and that he will do his best to do so.

Margot shoots the man one last look, "Good condition," the man still doesn’t show his face, but he nods.

"Yes ma’am. Let’s go princess," You realize he’s talking to you, and you’re startled by the nickname at first, but you decide not to fuzz, at least not yet. He’s already started walking away, so you find yourself running up behind him, waving back to your leader for the last time, only she doesn’t wave back, she doesn’t even flash a smile. She stares back at you with a stern look as the gates to the commune come to a close.

It doesn’t give you the best feeling, but perhaps she was feelings sad you were leaving and didn’t want to show any emotions. Either way, you try to push the sight out of your mind, doing your best to follow the stranger. He doesn’t say a word for a long time, and you find that maybe it’s best we keep to ourselves for the time being, but as an hour or so go by, you find yourself a little curious.

You clear your throat, "Excuse me, sir?"

He doesn’t reply, but shoots a quick look over his shoulder to indicate that he’s listening.

"How long do you think we’ll be walking for?"

Given that Margot had given you absolutely no information about this journey, you figured it was worth a shot to ask your new strange companion.

"Couple’a days, if we don’t get sidetracked," His voice ragged, western, serious.

"Oh," not really sure if you dared asking for further details. You’d prefer to keep it peaceful for as long as possible, but you find the courage to ask anyway.

"Sidetracked by what?"

You hear him sigh, "Unnecessary bullshit."

‘Whatever that means’ you think to yourself. He doesn’t seem like the talkative type, but after months of isolation you find yourself rather desperate for someone to talk to, and if you are to spend days with this man, you figure it’s worth a shot trying to get to know him for whatever time you have to spend together.

"I see.. I’ll be on the lookout for that I suppose."

You can barely believe your ears when you hear a chuckle coming from the stranger in front of you.

After that positive feedback, you find yourself braver.

"I didn’t catch your name?"

His posture changes after the question left your mouth.

"I didn’t give to ya,"

"Well, I’m Y/N, but everyone calls me Lucky. It’s a bit of a recent nickname though. You see, I just spend 6 months in completely isolation-"

You get cut off abruptly when you find yourself crashing into the strangers back, realizing he's come to an complete halt. He turns around, his figure towering slightly over you. His hat is no longer doing it’s job to cover his face, and utter horror washes over you as it's fully visable in the golden hour light.

"Listen sweetheart, I’m here to do this goddamn job. I don’t wanna hear your whole life story, and you sure as hell won’t be hearing mine. How about we keep our histories to ourselves and try to get this over with as quickly as fucking possible. That sound good to you?"

Your eyes aren’t able to leave his face. His sunken eyes, skin looking like it's been melted by the sun, an obvious nose missing. A ghoul, a ghoul is transporting you. You’ve not met a ghoul before, and those you’ve heard stories of have been grotesque. Fair enough they had been feral, but who’s to say this one won’t turn?

You get the gist of what he’s saying, and simply nod in agreement, not wanting to make this trip any more uncomfortable than it already is.

His eyes bore into your own, and he’s a lot closer than you’d prefer. For a second you think his eyes dart down to your lips before he turns around to keep walking, but that would be crazy, and very disturbing.

~

Nightfall comes fast, and you’re finding yourself worried for where you’ll be sleeping for the night. You really don’t wanna ask the ghoul, but your steps are getting shorter and slower, and you think the Ghoul have noticed cause he starts walking off track and leads you to a broken down abandoned house off the road.

"Stay here," he says before entering the house, gun up, ready to shoot. You do as he says and wait patiently for him to clear the coast. It doesn’t take long before you hear squealing and two shots being fired. You’re not sure whether to go in or run, but it doesn't matter anyway cause you freeze up completely in these situations. All you can do is hope that the ghoul knows what he's doing.

He comes back to the door a few minutes later, gesturing for you to come in, you’re hesitant, but you do. It's not like you have much of a choice anyway, "What was the shooting about?"

In his left hand he holds a dead radroach, and you find yourself wondering why he’s holding it. That's so fucking gross.

"You should be grateful. I got us some lunch the road," he says, flashing you a smirk. It's almost like he knew you’d be repulsed by it.

"Uhm, y’know what? I think I’m good, for the time being." You try to be nice, but you feel like you might not have a say in the matter. This might be the only food you get for a while.

"Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make a fire and we’ll put it on the grill."

You want to roll your eyes and complain, but you force yourself to give him a smile and if anything, show some appreciation. He did in fact just catch you a meal.

You’re able to swallow some of the grilled radroach, but after the fresh foods you had grown accustomed to from your commune, you found this hard to stomach.

Nightfall has fallen completely now, and you’ve done your best to make a comfortable sleeping spot by the fire. The ghoul sits nearby keeping watch, and you find yourself very curious of his past and who he is, or who he used to be. Thinking back to his speech earlier about keeping your histories to yourselves reminds you not to ask, but he didn’t say anyting about asking about where you were going.

"What do you know about Halfway?" You watch him closely for any hints he migth give away, "Is it as grand as everyone makes it out to be?" You lay on your side, arm resting under your head.

He doesn’t look at you, eyes fixated on the fire. "How about you get some rest, alright?" he avoids your question. How annoying.

You turn to lay on your back with a puff of annoyance. «Nobody wants to tell me anything,"

"Maybe there's a reason for that."

You turn to look at him, his eyes still not meeting yours. "What is that supposed to mean?" By the sound of it, nothing good.

"Look it's not my job to inform you of shit, and if your leader wanted you to know, trust me darling, she would've told ya."

His eyes flicker up to look directly at yours this time, and it catches you off guard. Not knowing what else to say, you decide to turn to your side, away from him. This whole thing is giving you a really bad feeling.

You’re back on track the next day. Your legs sore from the day before. Having been in isolation for 6 months will do that to you, you guessed, but you'll manage.

The ghoul hasn't said a word yet today, and though you didn't exactly get the answers you were looking for last night, you refused to give up completely.

"What did Margot mean when she said good condition?"

He doesn’t answer, of course he doesn’t. You sigh,

"Look, I don’t mean to be annoying. Truly, I’d just like to know what is waiting for me. That’s all, and I really don't see the harm in that." Still nothing.

"Hey! It’s not kind to ignore someone when they're talking to y-" The ghoul quickly turns, a rope firm in his hands. Where did that come from? He grabs your hands, tying them together before you’re able to protest.

"Hey- what’re you doing!?" You look at him in disbelief, anger and panic all in one.

"Trust me, it’s for your own good," You laugh at that, yeah right. Before you’re able to mock him, he takes out a piece of cloth and wraps it around your head, specially over your mouth, and it's keeping you from saying what's on your mind. For a second you’re actually fearing for your life.

"Listen, gorgeous. We’re about to pass through some dangerous territory, and the people in these parts would do a lot to get their hands on a pretty litte thing like yourself. You follow my lead and keep your mouth shut, can you do that for me?"

You look for any lies in his eyes, but you genuinely believe him. It’s not like you can argue against him anyway, but you put your trust in him and give a nod in response.

You walk for a short while longer before you actually start seeing other people on your path. They seem rough around the edges. Hostile, but not aggressive, yet anyway. You walk past a few who seem to be intrigued, but not interested enough to take their chance at battle with the ghoul. That is until a few of them start gathering in front of you. Four men stand before your path, making it impossible to keep walking without confrontation.

"Gentlemen, how do you do?" The ghoul seems to do his best to keep it friendly, not wanting to create an unnecessary conflict with precious cargo at risk.

"What’ve you got for us ghoul?" As you observe, you can tell some of them are clearly on heavy combat inhancing chems, might be a harder fight if it comes down to it.

"Delivery, to Halfway. Can’t lose this one I’m afraid." He says it so confidently, completely standing his ground, but still keeping it non threatening. The men seem intrigued, and even exchange laughs between themselves. You wonder what they find so funny.

"That religious sacrifice place? What a lucky girl,"

"Seems like she’s up for a hell of a good time,"

"Fellas, if you don’t mind, we’re on a bit of a tight schedule," The ghoul tries to interrupt their 'friendly' chatter, but to no avail.

"They only take virgins up there don’t they? That’s like their whole point?" One of the guys ask the other three.

"Yeah, it’s some crazy religious cult. They torture them and impragnate them for like 10 years or something, or at least that’s what I’ve heard."

You freeze at their words. That can’t be it. That’s not what’s been told to you. They’re joking, making it up to scare you. It’s not true.

"Crazy rich though, you must be getting a lot of caps for this huh?" Suddenly their tone is not so friendly anymore, but the ghoul doesn’t budge. He keeps his hand on his holstered gun, the other holding the rope that binds your hands.

"Lucky for you, we’re not looking to take her off your hands. This time anyway," They laugh once more, patting the ghoul on his shoulder before walking off, letting you pass. He pulls on the rope to shake you out of your frozen state, and you jolst forward, trying to keep up with him. But you're disassociating, not paying a single mind to anything around you. You're too much in your head about what was just said, and you'd like to say you didn't believe a single word, but for some reason you do.

You keep walking in silence, time becomes irrelevant when you're all up in your head. You don’t notice the radstorm closing in, nor the rain that has already started pouring. If anything is in your favor, it's that you pass by a town with an abandoned pre-war hotel that offer a room for 100 caps a night. For whatever reason, the ghoul decides to do that for you. You don’t ask questions, you don't care to.

Soaked, shivering and your legs just barely keeping you up anymore, the ghoul places you down on the couch in the room given to you. You let him guide you, and for once, you're glad he doesn't have much to say. He lowers himself down in front of you and starts taking off the disgusting saliva soaked cloth from your mouth.

You wipe your mouth your hand, "Thank you."

He keeps his mouth shut and starts working on untying the rope from your hands. You watch him crouched before you, he's being gentle when removing the knots. A horrifying reminder of what you won't be experiencing at Halfway, if the men from earlier was telling the truth that is. This thought is what breaks you, and the tears start trickling down your tired face. There's no point holding it back anymore.

He's looking at you, so clearly trying to hide the concern on his face as he stands up and walks to the door.

"I’ll head down to the square to look for some food,"

Whatever.

Your silence is making him uncomfortable, so he leaves. You stay seated, replaying the words spoken between the men from earlier, over and over in your head.

Everyone you knew had made Halfway seem like such an amazing place. That you were lucky to be going, you were chosen. The thought makes you want to throw up.

You don’t register that the ghoul is back, fresh mutfruits placed in front of you on the coffee table, and though you are starving, you can’t bring yourself to even eat one.

"Eat," he says sternly. You just shake your head.

"M’not hungry," you sniffle, drying your tears with the palm of your hand.

"It’s not nice to lie, sweetheart. You haven’t had anything to eat since the damn radroach. Eat," He's trying to act concerned, but you don't believe it for a second. You scoff and look up to meet his eyes, and he’s looking right back at you, an annoyed expression on his face. You can’t believe this guy.

"Why do you care if I eat or not? Let me be," You're so tired, and all you want is to sleep. Gradually rising from the couch, you head towards the bed.

"Please," his plead makes you stop in your tracks.

"Please eat, you're really gonna need the strength," he seems desperate, almost.

You turn around to see him standing motionless by the coffee table, clearly attempting to compose himself.

"No," you're stern in your reply.

He's growing increasingly annoyed, angry even, because he knows he can't force you or harm you in any way.

"Whatever good condition means, I’m sure they'll be pleased as long as I’m alive, right?" Your voice gradually getting louder. "Being that their plan is to torture me for 10 years and all, they must have lots of stimpacks around to keep me alive enough to birth their whole next generation of psychos, don't you think?" Tears start falling.

"Don’t make me beg again," His eyes are shut, as if he's trying to block out your words, as if they affect him somehow. what a fucking joke.

"You’re so afraid you won’t get your paycheck. Well fuck you, and fuck the caps they’re paying you for this," you say it with so much pain and hatred, and you’re sure you’ll regret it later but you don’t have an inch of fuck to give at the moment.

Suddenly you see his angry features fall, and he catches himself in a cough. It's grotesque, and it seems to be getting worse with each one. He looks at you with disrepair, and you can tell he's struggling to catch his breath. You don't know what to do, but you're getting scared for him now. It looks horrifying, but before you're able to come to his aid, he scurries out the room.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. What just happened? A part of you wanted to run after him to make sure he was okay, but at the same time you wouldn't mind too much if he left and never came back. Shaking, you decide to tuck yourself into the left side of the bed. Trying not to think about how dirty it is, you curl yourself into a ball and cry out every last drop.

You’re never able to fall asleep, the tears just keep coming. You thought about running away, but knowing that the ghoul was getting paid a lot for this job, he would likely find you again in no time. What would be the point?

Your sobs are suddenly interrupted by the door opening, and you quiet yourself down to listen closely to every sound. The sound of the ghouls boots scraping the floor as he makes his way to the couch, his coat and gear getting thrown down on it. You decide to pretend that you’re already asleep as you hear him make his way to the bed. Feeling it dip slightly as he lay down in it.

But your cover is blown when you sniffle from the snot in your nose. You damn yourself as a sigh from the stranger fills the room, and you start feeling embarrassed about the way you treated him earlier. It’s not him you should be angry at, if anything it’s Margot and your group. The ghoul is just doing his job, to collect a price which he must need desperately, you can’t really blame him. He owes you nothing.

"Cooper," his raspy voice turned soft for a second.

"What?"

"My name is Cooper, some call me Coop. Whichever rolls of your tongue the best."

You feel awful now, "I’m sorry," Wiping away the tears and the snot to the best of your ability.

"For what sweetheart?" He sounds like he already knows what you’re apologising for, but decides to ask anyway for his own amusement.

"For cursing you out, it’s not your fault, and I shouldn’t blame you," You say, already feeling better for apologizing.

You both stay silent for a while, only sniffles from your nose filling the room. It’s embarrassing, you feel like such a child.

"C’mere darling," He says it in such a soft way. You can barely believe your ears. Looking over your shoulders you see him looking at you, only the dim light of a burning candle nearby to light your surroundings. He’s on his back, gesturing with his hand for you to lay in the crook of his arm. You contemplate it for a second, but it doesn’t take much convincing if you’re being honest. You’d take any form of comfort to make you forget this whole thing, even for just a night.

You turn around, inching closer under the sheets, finding a comfortble spot in the crook of his neck, your head resting on his arm. You’ve never been this close to someone except your mom when you were younger. It’s scary in a way, being this vulnerable and intimate with someone you barely know.

Your breaths are shallow, thoughts racing through your mind and it’s making your heart is beat so fast. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, his body doesn’t give anything away.

You lay like this for a while, just a few dry sniffles and breaths heard between you. You recognize the closeness of him.

But you want to get even closer. You want him wrapped around you and have him absorb your whole being. It may come from having learned that you have extreme trauma waiting for you, and you can’t help but want to experience something good and genuine before that.

Your breaths become heavier, deeper, and you feel yourself wanting something; wanting him. This could go terribly wrong, but what exactly do you have to lose? Fuck it. You push away the what if's and inch your face closer to Cooper’s neck, your hands find themselves carefully making their way to his chest. He doesn’t react, and from what you can tell, he doesn't seem to mind.

You see his breathing stop, and you’re feeling brave. So you test the waters, gently sliding your hand up to his chest, letting them glide across his shirt. While your lips carefully grace the rough skin on his neck. You hear him puff out the air he’s been holding in while curiously letting letting you wander, but he doesn’t seem to resist.

When he doesn’t stop you, it’s easy to find the courage to keep going. Your hand wanders further down his chest, stomach, but he catches your hand right before it reaches the hem of his pants.

"What do you think you’re doin'?" He doesn't sound disappointed, more so curious. You feel a bit embarrassed, but you stand your ground, like you've already stated, you’ve got nothing to lose.

"Please Coop," just a whisper in his ear, "Please show me what it’s meant to feel like", a plea, practically begging.

He can’t help but let out a low growl, obviously turned on by the thought. "I’m meant to deliver you as a virgin, sweetheart."

You want to cry again, a sob brewing deep in your throat. "Please, they won’t know- They won’t find out," Your lips find his neck again, leaving trails of kisses up to his jawline, tongue swirling along the rough surface. You never thought you would find yourself in this position 2 days ago, but here you were, begging for a bounty hunter, a ghoul, to take your virginity.

Lucky for you, he seems to be out of fucks to give and lets go of your hand after only a few seconds of thinking it over. You don’t hesitate to let your free hand go under his shirt to feel his skin. It’s so textured, but you don’t mind. You’ve never touched anyone this way before, there wasn't much to compare it to.

Your hand travel lower until it finds a buldge. Being that this is your first time being intimate with somone, you’re startled by the unfamiliarity of it at first. But it doesn't take you long to realize that you were the reason for his cock hardening, and that turned you on more than anything.

Cooper, who's been laying still for some time now, has clearly been contemplating if he should stop this whole ordeal or not. He wants to touch you so bad, show you how good he can make you feel. Have you shaking with pleasure because of him, but he seems to let you be in control for the time being. You didn't mind, and it gave you some reassurance that this wouldn't be rushed, nor that he would force you to do something you didn't want to.

Your hands are shaking at this point as you try to unbotton his pants, and Cooper can't help but to give you a hand in your already broken state. You’re eager, and waste no time removing your own.

"Get over here darlin'," he says with that gentle voice again, gesturing for you to straddle his hips. His length is exposed now, and you feel yourself getting nervous with anticipation. You find it hard to believe that he's gonna fit inside you, it seems impossible.

Yet, you gain the confidence to sit up and make your way across his lap. You're not sure where to sit specifically, but you want to study him further and therefore straddle his thighs. His cock in view in front of you, laid across his stomach, stiff and drooling. Cooper doesn't say anything, but he watches you carefully, wondering what your next move will be. You don't pay attention to him for now.

You do however find yourself curious, and grab the length in front of you. It's warm, and you circle a thumb across the top where it's drooling a clear liquid. You hear him hum under you, an approval of the gesture you just performed. Butterflies take over your stomach, and you feel throbbing in your lower area. You want his cock so desperately inside you now, just to hear those sounds from him again.

"Sit up for me'," the gruffness of his voice draws your attention to him. You obliged without hesitation, "Scoot closer," and you do, of course you do.

He stretches a hand down between your thigs and you're on your knees straddling his hips. Rough fingers run between your folds and they run smoothly.

"Well fuck me, you really want this huh?" He's teasing you now. You nod frantically.

"Use your words sweetheart," He inserts a finger in your untouched hole. You gulp at the sensation, "Yes- yes I do-".

He hums again, moving the finger inside you, bending and stroking. It feels strange, but not painful. "I know you do honey, but I need to make sure you can handle me first, alright?"

You nod frantically, you knew already that you were prepared to do anything he wanted. "Yes, sir,"

Without warning he adds another finger, and it's starting to sting a little. You try to control your breathing as he starts moving them in and out of you, "I know it hurts baby, but it's only for a lil while. You trust me, don't you?"

You nod again, "Yes- Fuck!" He was getting agressive with it now, but he's hitting a spot you didn't know existed and it's sending you to other dimensions in your mind. Your eyes are rolling back while his fingers work hard between your thighs. It's unlike anything you've felt before.

"There we go.. You're gonna be so good for me aren't you, princess?" His words barely register as you find yourself gripping his arm and holding on for dare life to not lose your balance.

"Mhm- y- yes," and before you knew it, his hand is removed from between your folds and you're left heaving for your breath and trying to focus your vision again.

"I think you know what to do, darlin'," You need him badly now, even more now that you know what pleasures are waiting.

You place yourself over his cock, and Cooper watches in patiently as he puts his hands on your thighs, stroking them gently.

You grab his length and place it under your opening, ready to lower yourself on him. "Slow now," he warns as you as his tip meets your entrance, before letting it slip in just an inch. You both hiss, him with pleasure, you with pain.

"That’s it, doll," He keeps his eyes on you as you wince in pain. Taking deep breaths as your hole adjusts itself to his full size, but you’re feeling impatient and start pushing yourself even further despite the burning sensation. You figure it’s better to get it over with as fast as possible so you can actually start enjoying this.

Cooper hums, "Patience sweetheart," you lock eyes with him, and he genuinely seems to care. He lets you have complete control over this, not pushing any limits, and it makes you feel even more aroused, being in charge; seeing his eyes roll back with edged pleasure, yet doing nothing to force his way in.

You feel comfortable enough to start moving now, and you do your best not to squeal when you feel it burn and sting. Finally your skin touch, your ass gracing his thighs, and though it’s still stinging a bit, you can feel his whole length inside you, and it drives you mad.

"Just like that, princess," You hear his soft grunts below, and it reminds you to start moving. Slowly easing yourself off him, just to lower back down again, trying to find the right pace and angle for it to hit the right spot. It doesn't take long before you feel Cooper bucking his hips just ever so slightly to help you out, and he does. He knew exactly how to thurst his cock to give you the extreme pleasure you were searching for.

"More- please," you moan, your hands find his chest to lean on. Nails digging into his already ragged skin.

"God, you feel so fuckin' good around me, darling," His hips buck into you again, pulling himself almost all the way out before slamming himself back inside you. It's rough, and his hands have found your ass to grab to help move you to his rhythm. You're dazed, eyes barely open from sheer pleasure radiating deep inside you. It's making your breath hitched, and your moans spurt out in cries.

"My- fuckn'- god-" you struggle to draw a proper breath, your vision is blurred and rolled back, barely open.

He’s grunting with pleasure beneath you, seeing you completely lost to the way his cock fills your tight cunt, the next time rougher than last. You both sense that you're getting closer to an edge, and that’s when you realize how lightheaded you are, probably from the lack of food you’ve had today, and Coop notices how your figure slowly droops with exhaustion.

"Woah easy darling-" You feel him sit up under you, and without much effort he sits up and holds you tight to his chest, flipping you over on your back in a swift motion.

You would act surprised, but you’re too lightheaded and close to a climax that you don’t react at all. You feel his head in the crook of your neck, breathing heavy and groaning into your ear as he pushes himself deep and steady inside you. Your moans are soft, almost silent, barely there, not enough energy to show him how good he’s making you feel. But you think he gets it, if anything he can see it in how your eyes roll back, how flushed your cheeks are, and feel how your walls are squeezing tightly around him.

"You gonna be a good girl and finish all over my cock, princess?" You feel a hand reach under your chin, placed firmy on your throat, a tight squeeze is applied as you feel his hot breath on your cheek. Sloppy kisses, and a traveling tongue, licking off all your sweat and tears. Having him so near and in control of your breathing makes you feel unbelievably hot. He could kill you right now, right at your high, and you wouldn't mind at all.

"I think I'm- Coop I'm gonna-," you’re whisper in his ear, and it only fuels him more.

He lifts your leg higher, hooking it over his free arm as he goes even deeper. "Show me how fuckin' good I make you feel, sweetheart,"

And with that you think you’re about to pass out, but instead you’re hit with the intense feeling of something combursting inside you. Your head slams back, and your hands reach up to grab the headboard of the bed, your knuckles turning white from the grip. You're dazed, exhausted, feeling the lingering pleasure from your orgasm still present inside your throbbing cunt. Cooper helps you ride out the orgasm in a slower pace while coming up close to his own.

"There you go doll, it's all right," His hand leaves your throat and he unhooks your leg to find your waist, placing them on each side. He's leaning back on his knees as he pumps himself into you, softly, slowly. Soft groans leaves his lips in heavy and hitched breaths as he gets closer.

Seeing you so beautifully dishevelled and limp beneath him, he starts guiding your exhausted body with his hands, pulling you onto his cock, using it to finish himself off. You allow him, cause you enjoy watching him his chest rise with every breath he takes. His eyes rolling back with pleasure from feeling your walls pulsate with each thrust, and with one last squeeze from you, he reaches his own climax.

His hands are grabbing your waist so tightly you can feel the bruises forming already, but all you can focus on is his heaving chest, and his exposed throat as his head is thrown back. Soft grunts and curses filling the room, and you imagine his eyes closed with painfully pleasurable bliss, all caused by you.

He rides out his own orgasm and tries to settle his breathing before he lifts himself off you. He doesn't look at you, but climbs tiredly out of the bed to readjust his clothing. You’re so sleepy, greasy, smelly, but you don't care. You're high, and happy.

You watch him at the edge of the bed, and you utter a soft 'Thank you', just to let him know you're grateful for risking the success of the job. You were meant to be delivered as a virgin after all.

You hear him chuckle from the foot of the bed, you guessed he’d never gotten a ‘thank you for fucking me’ from anybody before, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

"Close your eyes and get some sleep, alright?" Hell, he doesn’t need to tell you twice.

"I think that’s a good idea," You’re not really sure if the words ever left your mouth, being that you’re practically half asleep already. But you do notice the bed dipping slightly next to you, and how you’re gently being pushed on your side. Followed by something warm pressed up against your back, and gentle kisses being placed along your exposed neck.

What tomorrow brings doesn't matter in this moment.

Part 2?

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout #fallout reader #fallout fanfic #cooper howard x female reader #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout the ghoul #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #fallout smut

[literallyjustuhgirl]

just thinking about virgin!vaultdweller!reader riding cooper for the first time.

he doesn't expect you to know the ins and outs. In fact, it actually gets him off to see how inexperienced you are. so when he leans back on a dusty, war-torn couch, and says,

"why don't you come take a ride, cowgirl?"

with a nonchalant tip of his hat, you're eager and rushing over within the second. he decides against helping you out of your clothes this time 'round,

"give me a little show, pumpkin."

he keeps most of his clothes on, not even bothering to take his gun holster off, leaving you naked and vulnerable in comparison.

his hands rest on your hips, but do not guide them. they sit relatively idle, occasionally rubbing up your ribcage and down your thighs.

you do your absolute best, but he cracks a grin at how sloppily you're moving. you don't ease in a bit, instead setting a fast, hard, bouncing pace.

his grip tightens a bit, haulting your movements.

"easy girl, ease into it, take it slow.." he whispers.

you gulp with a hint of embarrassment before taking his advice, slowing down your bouncing. it takes him pulling your hips down and guiding your hips into a more grind like motion for you to get the hang of it. you immediately understand as soon as you feel your clit graze against his lower stomach.

"there ya go, sweetheart.. now you're getting it.."

#cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x oc #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x female reader #virgin reader #vault dweller #fallout #fallout x reader #fallout imagine #fallout smut #fallout fanfic #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard fallout #cooper howard fic #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul fanart

[beskarandblasters]

Time, Wondrous Time - Masterlist

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist | AO3

Series Playlist

Summary: You’re California Crest Studios’ newest production assistant, getting the opportunity to work on the hit movie, The Man From Deadhorse. But when you meet the movie’s lead, Cooper Howard, you fall head-first into a secret affair. Enter a war, a cryogenic freezer, and a two-hundred-year time jump. And yet despite all that, you just might run into him again.

Series warnings: unspecified age gap, infidelity, explicit smut, time skip, angst

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

Part One: Illicit Affairs

Part Two: A Dwindling, Mercurial High

Part Three: I Don’t Wanna Keep Secrets Just To Keep You

Part Four: For You, I Would Ruin Myself

Part Five: Hell Was the Journey, But It Brought Me Heaven

Completed on 5/20/24

Bonus: With You By My Side, a collection of one shots set in the TWT universe

#don’t look at me ok #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #the ghoul smut #the ghoul fanfiction #cooper howard smut #cooper howard fanfiction #fallout #fallout fanfiction #fallout series #time wondrous time

[theghoulshat]

Slip of the Tongue

Cooper Howard / The Ghoul x F!Reader pinned info — send me a request — masterlist MDNI 🔞 love confession, drug use / intoxication, self-doubt & self-deprecation, very slight angst & a bit of fluff, cursing, making out, slight dub-con, dry humping, groping & fingering (gloves on), aftercare & cuddling. word count: 3,555

When he was freed from the coffin he had been holed up in, he came running straight to you. It had been a few years, but you knew he'd come back, eventually. He had been traveling a while. He needed to clear his head of California, and thanks to his ghoulified state: time was something he would never really run out of.

You, however, were not so lucky. You had time to lose. And yet, you seemed to have kept to yourself - never finding anyone who was worthy enough to fill in the hole he had left in your heart the day he turned away from you. He walked into the sunset, giving you a quick glance over his shoulder, before his boots clicked on. Every step made his dark figure slowly fade into the sun's blazing rays, and your heart ached as you watched him go - your mind and heart both torn as to whether he would ever return.

Either he would die doing what he loved, like his bounty hunting, or he would just choose to leave you behind. Forget about you, like he had done with most things since the bombs dropped...

You didn't know it, but Cooper didn't want to lose you. A part of him almost hoped he could get you to turn into a ghoul too. Make you the same as him, so the two of you could continue to be traveling partners forever and ever. You could both be immortals together. You deserved to have that extra time. It was a curse, for him, but it would be a blessing for you. He didn't feel like he deserved having the second chance at life, but he supposed he would have never met you if he hadn't: so he accepted it, just for that reasoning alone.

These were the kind of thoughts that he kept to himself, though. Neither of you had confessed your feelings for each other, despite the casual flirtations that would leave both of your lips. He quietly reasoned that you'd want to be with a more normal guy. Someone who wasn't as broken as him... He felt like you'd realise you'd want a family, which was something he could not give you, being sterile and all. You quietly reasoned that he probably still loved his wife too much to even think about committing himself to you...

Both of you couldn't be more wrong!

Any onlookers could see that the two of you were meant for each other. Hell, even a mutual friend of yours, Roger, had mentioned it in the hopes it would snap you both out of your limbo - help ease some of the sexual tension he could sense in the air. But all it did was make Cooper scoff and you had awkwardly laughed it off. Both of your reactions only solidifying the doubtful thoughts in both of your minds...

The time for you to finally let loose was when you both strolled up to the Super Duper Mart. Dealing with the two guys inside, including their organ-harvesting robot, was a breeze. The ghouls that were kept in cages made your heart ache though...

Cooper didn't really have anything to say - which wasn't unusual for him - but he made sure to hide you away when he pressed the button to open up the doors. You were a smoothie, after all. "Can't have 'em tearing at that pretty face, sweetheart."

He only set them free because you had begged him to. He could never bring himself to say 'no' to you - even if he did like to frustrate you sometimes, by playfully pushing back against your words. You had a passion that he'd been missing for quite some time. Empathy too. He loved that you still had it, despite the years he'd been gone. A part of him had wondered how much you'd change without him there. But it seemed like you'd remained the loving woman that the cowpoke had fallen head over boot heels for. The old man was grateful for that.

"Would ya look at that?" You piped up, a large grin on your face as you both found a stash of chems. There would be enough to keep Cooper from turning feral for quite a while, and there were others that you could use just for the sake of getting high. And after the tiring journey you had both just had: you were ready to go to cloud nine.

Sitting on the couch the men had been lounging on just moments before, you let out a long sigh as the chems slowly started to muddle your brain. Cooper wasn't as affected by the same amount, but it was enough to keep him from biting his tongue. With the back of his head against the back of the couch, her slowly rolled it to the side to gaze at you. Your eyes were barely open as you looked at the television screen, and you couldn't look more beautiful in his eyes.

He had to do it. He had to tell you. But how? Would you even remember with how out of it you seemed to be? Maybe if he said it now, it could be practice for the real thing? He pondered it quietly to himself.

"A cap for your thoughts?" You spoke up, turning your head to gaze back at him. "How much did you have? You don't usually stay this still for this long." You joked, your tongue flicking out to lick at your dry lips.

"Don't do that, sweetheart." His voice comes out lower than normal, the gravel that was always there seeming to intensify. If it wasn't for the chems, you'd notice the lustful way his eyes looked at you. His pupils blown to the point you could barely see the brown in his eyes, but you figured that was the chems doing: not the fact he was finding it increasingly hard not to just pounce on you and claim you.

"Don't do what?" Your voice drawls out, purposefully slow as you tilt your head to the side.

"You know what, missy." He smirked at you in that mischievous way that you'd seen time and time again. But this time, it felt different somehow. But you weren't sure if that was just the chems feeding into your delusions, or if it was actually how things were playing out.

"I think you're gonna have to tell me, Coop." There it was. His nickname. It sent a shiver down his spine and he clutched his fists at his sides. "I'm not exactly a mind reader." You began to chuckle at your own words, only to be cut off by him tugging at your arm - pulling you closer to his side.

You let out a soft gasp from the sudden movement, your eyes blinking slowly as you watched him look at you with a glint in his eyes that you'd never really noticed before. His gaze couldn't stay on yours for too long, though, as he kept looking down at your lips and then back up again. The short distance between your faces made your heart skip a beat. Was he about to kiss you?

"You know, sweetheart, you are a real pain in my ass. But... you're a beautiful pain in my ass." Real smooth, Cooper. Real smooth. He didn't have time to chastise himself because it was like his body was running on instinct - his rough, scarred lips pressing harshly against your own.

You hum softly at the feeling. You had thought about what it would be like to kiss him. Even though his irradiated skin was covered in burns and scars, he was still the most charming and handsome man you had ever met in the Wastes. His lips were better than you could ever imagine - and you wanted more.

You swing a leg over his lap, settling on top of him as you both made out with each other on the rugged couch. His lips and tongue ravaged your mouth, but his gloved hands are gentle as he takes a firm hold of your hip with one of them, and the other fondles with your breast underneath your bloodstained tank top. You had always looked good in it. But you would look even better with it on the floor.

Your back arches as you instinctively push your boob into the palm of his hand, your hips slowly grinding down on his hardening length. A low growl rumbles from him as he pulls back from you. "Careful, darlin', I won't be able to hold myself back if you keep doin' that." You were both high from the chems you had taken. It wouldn't be right for him to take advantage of that, if you weren't truly up for it.

"Who says I want you to?" You tease him with a smile. An irresistible smile that had made Cooper fall for you all those years ago. He had wasted so much time doubting his own value. He had to make up for it.

But not now. He wanted to make up for it properly, when you both were sober. Hell, he'd even be down to do so in the morning. For now, though, he had to think of a way to get you both off without taking any risks. He still wasn't 100% sure if you really wanted this with him. Consent was something the cowpoke respected greatly. It was a little dubious now that you were both high off of the pile of chems you'd found. You both wanted each other, of course, but Cooper just wanted to be sure. He wanted to take care of you. You were his girl - even if he had never openly claimed you as such.

"Well, if you keep grindin' away like that, cowgirl, I might give you what you want." He chuckled mischievously, his pupils still blown wide with lust for you and your beautiful, smooth body.

You were slow with his request, but you wanted to tease him. You wanted to take your sweet time with him, now that you had him. Even while inside his trousers, the head of his cock rubbed against your clit just the way you wanted it to. Your hands shoot out to grasp at his shoulders as you continue your movements, the action making him adopt a cocky grin as he watches you intentively.

You were sure your arousal was starting to pool enough that it was coming through the material of your panties and your jeans. Could he feel how wet you were? Did he find that gross? Your cheeks flush as your hips start to stutter. It had been so long since you'd last made love to anyone - so even just dry humping made you look like a cock drunk whore. But Cooper loved that. He felt blessed to see such an expression on your face.

"Let go for me, honey." His words are whispered, seductively so. You can't help but let go, crying out as your orgasm takes over you. Your lower body trembles, and it is a beautiful sight to behold. Cooper felt himself getting close too, so he had no choice but to take hold of your hips, guiding you back down on his clothed erection as he slowly thrust up against you.

The overstimulation has you gasping and whimpering. The sounds like music to his ears. Your fingernails dig into him as you try not to run from it. He deserved to have his release too. And if that meant he had to essentially use you as a pillow to rut against your drenched core: so be it.

"Fuck, darlin'... I don't deserve you." He grunts as he nears the last few pumps. "You're too beautiful for me. Too sexy. God, I wish you were mine - and only mine." He was rambling now, his thoughts muddled by the clarity he was about to receive just by dry humping you as you sat on his lap.

"I am yours, Coop. I am all yours - always have been." You manage to moan out, leaning forward to claim his lips with your own. You had initiated it this time, and that - coupled with the confession you had just made - was enough to make The Ghoul reach his end. He groans lowly, from the back of his throat, as his hips jitter against you, the tip of his cock marking his trousers with his release. The wet patch obvious, despite how dark his clothes were.

You both are breathless as you come down from your high. Your eyes locked onto each other like you'd both had some kind of epiphany. It sure felt like the best experience you had had, and Cooper felt the same. Sure, he was a lady killer and a huge charmer, but he'd been married for many years and then on his own for even longer than that. It had been a long time since he'd last even thought about getting laid, let alone actually doing it.

Sure, all he'd done was cum in his own pants from rutting against you, but he was hesitant to do much more - at least for the night - just in case the chems were affecting your decisions as much as he worried they were. What he didn't know, however, was that your tolerance for chems had improved greatly since he'd been gone. You were practically sober now that you'd had your release.

And now your sober mind was craving another.

A whine escapes you as your hips move again, his softening cock overstimulated by the movement. A hiss passes his lips as he stills you with a firm hold of your hips. "Jesus, darlin', I'm gonna need a minute-"

"I'm so close again, Coop. Please!" Your begging voice would have fuelled him for another round, but his refractory period wasn't like it used to be. He wants to give you what you want, but he wasn't sure about penetrating you - especially not without a condom for him to wear. He didn't want to give you radiation sickness from fucking you - that would just ruin the whole experience. Sure, he could fulfil his wish to turn you into a Ghoul, but that was up to you at the end of the day - not him. He'd respect whatever decision you made in that regard.

But right now, what you wanted was a second orgasm, and The Ghoul was ready to give you that. "Alright, darlin', let me give you what you so desperately need." His hand slowly cups at your drenched core. If he didn't have his glove on, he would be able to feel your arousal. But he could see it, at least, from the patch between your legs. His free hand cups the back of your head as he slowly turns you both, laying you back on the couch as he hovered over you.

You bite your bottom lip at his gentle strokes against your clothed core. "P-please... take off my pants." You sigh. "I want to feel you properly this time." You don't know how, but Cooper's eyes darken even more at your words.

"Okay, sweetheart, keep 'em spread for me." His hands are quick to rid you of your pants, your white panties practically transparent as he gazed down at you. God, you were so beautiful. He licks at his lips, and for a moment, you braced yourself for his rough lips to latch onto you. But he didn't. He just revelled in the way your juices were slowly running along your spread thighs.

"Coop-" You're cut off by him moving to take off his glove. You are not sure what comes over you, but you grab at his wrist. For a small moment, Cooper's eyes go wide: afraid he'd upset you, or that you'd sobered up enough to realise what you two were doing, and that you didn't want to keep going.

"Do you need me to stop, sweetheart?" His voice is quiet, his eyes flickering between yours to try and read your face. Had he fucked up? Are you about to revoke your consent?

You slowly shake your head. "No... no... I just - I want you to keep them on." The gloves. You wanted him to keep his gloves on? For the first time, he looks almost bewildered, his head tilting as he wonders why you'd want him to keep them on. You chuckle at his thoughtful look: "The leather - the friction will be enough to get me off."

His mouth opens as if to say 'oh', like he knew all along. A wide grin spreads across his scarred lips as he hooks his gloved finger under your panties, slowly pulling them aside so he could see you properly. A low growl escapes him. He can't help but feel like he's about to go feral just from looking at your pussy.

Was that even a possibility? Cooper wouldn't mind finding that out. Especially if it meant he could claim you for himself, and pass away in the bliss of it.

He wonders how well you'd take it, if he actually inserted his gloved finger inside of you? The whimpers and mewls that come out of your open mouth are a good indication that the leather was indeed pleasurable for you. He finds enjoyment in seeing you in such a flustered state. He could tell your orgasm was approaching, so he wanted to up the game. Instead of just running his fingers along your slit, he was going to insert one digit inside of you.

The gasp you let out is heavenly. The way your back arches makes you look like fine art. Cooper chuckles to himself as he lays kisses along the inside of your thigh. "Such a good girl for me." Your eyes lock onto his at those words, and he knows he's got you wrapped around his finger. Both literally and figuratively.

He slowly pumps his finger in and out of you, the leather rubbing against your gummy walls in such a pleasurable way - you couldn't even put it into words how much you loved it. He keeps an eye on your expression, taking in every bit of detail he could. He wanted to remember this. He wanted to remember you. If he could replace the memories of the bombs dropping with your aroused face, he absolutely would.

He wanted nothing more than to rid himself of those awful moments, so he could enjoy these ones with you. You both knew there were more moments like this to come - and you both wanted that desperately. You wanted each other. Why had it taken so long for either of you to confess? Neither of you were really sure. You both doubted yourselves, so maybe that was it? You could never doubt each other, though, that was for sure...

"Oh, fuck- Coop! I'm coming!" You cry out, your nails digging into the couch, tearing into the material of the cover as you clamp your thighs together as tight as you possibly could. "That's it, sweetheart... that's it." He coaxes you through it with his honey-like voice, and you tip over the edge.

Your breaths come out heavy as your eyes flutter shut. You head felt light as you laid there, your juices pooling beneath you and dampening the couch. Cooper removes his finger and looks at the wetness on the digits of his glove. His tongue flicks out to taste you, a hum of approval coming from him at the sweet taste. He hadn't tasted anything that good in well over 200 years!

"Fuck, sweetheart. That pussy must taste like heaven on Earth." He chuckles out, his eyes twinkling as he debates on seeing if that was true or not. But he didn't want to overdo it. You looked spent, and he was happy to keep you safe in his arms for the meantime.

Grabbing a dry rag from your backpack, he is gentle as he wipes you clean. You make a tired peep at his touch, your pussy beyond overstimulated. He doesn't apologise but he does flick his gaze up at you. He wanted to take care of you. You were his girl now.

He even makes an attempt to wipe himself from inside his pants, before tossing the rag away. Out of sight, out of mind. Right now, all that was on his mind was you. He hadn't bothered to put your pants back on, but he was at least courteous enough to slide your panties back into place. He figured with his body heat wrapped around you, the two of you would be warm and cosy enough together on the couch.

"Mm, I love you, Cooper Howard." You mumble into his neck, nuzzling against him and his body heat, as your bare legs wrap around his.

"I love you too, sugar." The kiss on your forehead is as gentle as it is sleepy. With half-lidded, deep-set eyes, The Ghoul watches as sleep takes over you. You looked peaceful. For a moment, Cooper actually forgot about the kind of world the two of you were living in. And for the first time in forever, he went to sleep with a smile on his face. Nightmares unable to penetrate the domestic dreams of you and him together.

#cooper howard x fem!reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout x reader #x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard one shot #cooper howard imagine #fallout fanfiction #fallout fanfic #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout

[cubeshapedlemon]

Atomic Baby

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

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Cooper Howard/ The Ghoul x f!reader

6.2k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now why would I want to do that?”

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

“Well what? Cat got yer’ tongue?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you say stupidly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Looking at you like you're something to eat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

☆          ☆          ☆

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

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

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

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

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

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

☆          ☆          ☆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

☆          ☆          ☆

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

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

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

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

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

☆          ☆          ☆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

☆          ☆          ☆

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

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

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

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

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

“Well I don't see him ‘round here,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

☆          ☆          ☆

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

“Please Coop, I need you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, Coop im going to-”

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

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

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

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

[ladybirdswritings]

Pretty Thing - Cooper Howard (Ghoul) x Reader

Summary: You’re a shiny, pretty prize worth more caps than can be counted on ten hands altogether. There’s something special about you, and the Ghoul is determined to figure out just what it is.

Notes: I’ve been wanting to write for this cowboy for days now and I’ve finally come around to it. Cowboys are my specialty lately <3. Lmk if u love this and I’ll write more (feel free to leave me lots of comments and interactions, I love those!!)

A03 | masterlist | next chap

pretty thing…

“Well lookie here, seems you vaulties ain’t as perfect as you promise to be, huh?”

A furrow of chocolate brows, offense and confusion from sweet Lucy MacLean. This vault promised development in weaponry that the new world had never seen before. It was a thing of storybooks, the kind of thing her dad told her right before her head hit the pillow.

Now, here she was; and it wasn’t a caged weapon she was staring at… no, but rather a caged person.

“This violates all of our policies…” she muttered softly, worry stitched in her soft features as she looked on at the mangled cowboy beside her.

“Tsk tsk, sweetheart. You oughta be more careful with trustin’ these shit-eating freaks. Ain’t you learned your lesson first time round?”

Lucy sighed, falling to her knees and grazing a warm hand against the metal. She looked on at you with pity. Weak, hazy you.

How did you end up in this predicament? You didn’t know. You didn’t remember.

It was as if the entirety of everything you’d ever known was only stitched within your brain in jagged, disorderly flashes. This had to be one too. A flash.

A vault dweller and a ghoul, side by side.

It was most certainly a flash.

“What do we do, coop?” The brunette wondered, doe eyes gazing up at the mangled creature. He only smirked.

“We split. You find your precious tin-man you can’t stop yappin’ bout… and I’ll snatch up this dyin’ cargo. Comprende?”

Lucy had come to trust him, and maybe it was a stupid thing to do. Reality was, though, he’d kept her alive this far. Maybe she owed it to him to follow orders. With a huff, she parted— and then?

It was just you and the ghoul.

Heavy footsteps circled your metal cage, like shark to labored minnow. You were far too exhausted to pick up those pretty eyes of yours from the ground they gazed at.

Chains wrapped round your wrists and ankles, cold metal burned against your spine and cheek. There were two ghouls in your peripheral vision, and each one was the same amount of horrifying.

The footsteps halted, and suddenly the mangled, noseless blur was clear as day before you. Kneeled to your level, observant— cold.

“Well well— look at you, huh? Pretty thing. Now I understand takin’ precautions but damn, sweetie. That’s a lotta chains, hm? What’s so scary bout’ you?” He whispered the last part, thread laced finger lifting to slowly push a loose locket of hair from your dampened face through the cage.

You blinked, forcing your gaze upward so to try and meet his eyes. It was exhausting.

He observed you like you were a foreign object, a diamond in the radiated rough.

“I’d wager to say that you’re just the weapon we was lookin’ for, ain’t you?”

God, he didn’t know just how right he was.

If there was one certain thing you could remember clear as day, laced through the flashes, it was your powers. Each and every one of them, laying dormant now.

You were far too poked and prodded, too drained to even think of lifting a finger.

“Been doin’ this for centuries, pretty thing. Centuries and I ain’t ever seen this kinda experimentation on a little fawn. Hm. Guess you was just unlucky.” His breath was warm as it hit your face. Musing and eyeing your exhausted, slumped figure. Observant, taking his time. Your keepers would be coming soon— he didn’t seem worried.

“Tell you what. You look like you gon’ make me lots of money. So you’re comin’ with me. Don’t you worry, I prefer ropes stead’ of chains, sweetie. You’ll be nice n’ comfortable.”

The more he spoke, the farther away he sounded. You were aware he was a ghoul, that much was certain. Yet even so, no part of his voice, no part of his fading threats were even a little bit startling. No.

His voice was a soft yet strong southern drawl and god— it was far more comforting than the chains and cement floor you’d always known. Perhaps that’s why you let the exhaustion overtake you. Perhaps that’s why you closed your eyes.

Did it matter why? No. All that mattered was that you did.

The rest was a blur. The last thing you remember? Frayed ropes being wrapped round you tight as you were freed from your chains. Mangled, coat covered arms lifting you from the cement and golden teeth pressed against your aching ear to whisper:

“C’mon now, pretty thing…”

Then?

Slumber…

¿to be continued?

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x lucy maclean #cooper howard x female reader #cooper howard x y/n #the ghoul #the ghoul cooper howard #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x lucy #the ghoul x oc #ghoul x lucy #ghoul x reader #ghoul x you #cooper howard fallout #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard fic #cooper howard imagine #ghoul fallout #fallout #fallout x reader #fallout x you #fallout ghoul #fallout ghoul x reader #walton goggins #walton goggins x reader #walton ghoulgins

[dyns33]

Only wastelands

I will try to do this Cooper Howard x reader in three parts, but I like the Ghoul so much, I might want to write more

People said Y/N’s neighborhood was lucky.

After a draw, they were selected to join a Vault shelter for free, if something dramatic happened one day, allowing them to survive.

Y/N had received the news with mixed feelings. She didn't want to die from a nuclear bomb, but she also didn't want to think about the possibility of a nuclear bomb falling on their heads.

There was no reason for this to happen anyway.

China and the United States had resumed peace negotiations. The war was going to end and everything would be wonderful. The vaults would then be of no use.

That day, she was washing dishes in her small kitchen. She lived alone, having left her parents who were in another state to settle near Lors Angeles.

Of course, she had first dreamed of Hollywood, and then she had been reasonable, finding a normal job, to live a normal life.

First there was the light. For a moment, she blinked, wondering if she had fainted. And looking out the window, she first saw the smoke in the distance.

Her neighbors were out, she could see them in the street which also looked towards the city center, and no doubt they were talking, but Y/N heard nothing, all her attention fixed on the smoke.

It was just smoke. She watched without being able to move as the cloud grew, before the shock wave reached her house, destroying the windows and shaking the walls.

Screams were then heard, in addition to the sirens. Falling to the ground in shock, Y/N almost didn't get up, but one of the neighbors, instead of thinking selfishly, ran to see if she was still there, helping her to get up and taking her with her to the vault.

Everything happened very quickly after that.

Y/N vaguely remembered those smiling doctors, who explained to them that everything would be fine, doing several exams before putting what they called a pipboy on them, giving them a ridiculous blue and yellow jumpsuit.

"You are now the inhabitants of Vault 8. What has just happened is a tragedy, and we are going to need you to ensure the future of humanity."

They were taken to a large room, with human-sized tubes. The doctors explained that they would be put to sleep, kept in the cold, safe, and awakened only on the day when it would be possible to go out and repopulate the Earth without it being dangerous.

No one could have known that they were not safe at all.

When Y/N opened her eyes, she had a hard time understanding what was happening. There was no light in the vault, except for the one in her crate which had just opened automatically.

Most of the boxes in front of her were open and empty. Then turning around, she discovered decomposing corpses in those that had remained closed.

Her cries of terror brought no one to come, because there was no one in the shelter, just as there were no resources, no water, no food, nothing. Because no one was supposed to survive here.

For two days, Y/N cried, not knowing what to do.

Then she decided she didn't want to die, not like that anyway, and she tried her luck outside. She didn't know how long she had slept, or what she would find, but she had to try.

Her pipboy quickly told her that the air was breathable, despite the presence of radiation in certain places. But that wasn't the most important thing for her, seeing the desert surrounding the vault.

The bombs had destroyed everything, leaving only ruins and sand. Not being stupid, Y/N moved forward cautiously, trying to stay as covered as possible, even if it was difficult with her outfit.

On her way, she encountered two-headed cows, giant cockroaches, and other horrible creatures. No humans though, and she didn't know if that was a good thing.

With war, she knew that men could be much worse than beasts. Maybe they were all dead, from the explosions or all killing each other, or maybe they were still in the other vaults.

But life always found a way, even for assholes, and Y/N was attacked by three men while she was sleeping. Real savages, who talked more about eating her than anything else, laughingly ignoring her pleas.

“Now, that’s no way to treat a woman.” someone then said, stopping them as they were about to cut open her stomach.

"We found the bitch before you, pal ! Go get your lunch somewhere else !"

"Oh, but I think I found my meal. Mistreating a lady."

“You fucking ghoul !”

Too busy trying to get away, Y/N hadn't really looked at the man who had just arrived and was shooting at her attackers. Then, still too busy recovering from her misery, she took a while to raise her head, ready to thank her savior.

He didn't really seem surprised by her terror, although he grimaced as he watched her crawl away from him. She had to put her hand over her mouth to stop screaming.

It was impossible to tell if he had been burned or peeled, but the cowboy no longer had a nose, and his skin was in a catastrophic state.

As she stared at him with wide eyes, he watched her too, his attention settling on her pipboy.

"Ah. A vaultie. I understand the screams better. Never seen a ghoul before, sweetie ? Barely coming out of your little hole ?"

"… Sorry."

"No problem, sugar. You haven't insulted me or thrown things at me yet, it's quite polite."

At first, the ghoul was not very friendly. Yes, he had saved her, but he didn't want her to follow him into the wastelands. He didn't need a burden, and even less if it was a little rich girl.

But Y/N insisted, explaining to him what had happened to her, and the man looked at her with what looked like pity, muttering that she had ended up in one of the "bad vaults".

"I don't understand. What year is it ? Why is it only me who survived ? You… Sorry, what happened to you ?"

"Hey, honey. It's been over 200 years since everything blew up, thanks to Vault Tech. I imagine you and your friends were meant to serve as a pantry or an organ bank but like all their equipment, there's had a problem, and you were very lucky not to die like the others, and since you were there when everything happened, you should be able to guess why I am like this."

The Ghoul was gentleman enough to let her cry without comment.

The world was dead, and all because of money and power. Those who had sworn to protect them had killed them all. Nothing remained but an infertile, polluted, radioactive land, where the few survivors fought between factions instead of trying to find a real solution.

"Please… Don't leave me here…"

"You know, people didn't really like guys like me. It's not a good idea, sweetheart."

“They don’t like cowboys ?”

The question made him laugh. Maybe that was why he let her follow him. Or maybe because he wasn't as bad as he wanted to make out. Surely he felt lonely too, and it was nice to have someone who had lived in the same era as him , and who didn't judge him on his appearance.

Y/N didn’t understand ghoulophibia at all. Yes, they were scary, but that was no reason to mistreat these poor people.

"Okay, we judged on lots of things before, skin color, clothes, religion, but… Now, it's as if we were pointing at a cancer patient and shouting 'Look, he's sick Insult him !”

“It’s more complicated than that, sugar.” sighed the Ghoul, taking out a sort of hynalator to swallow its contents.

He explained radioactivity and the risks for him of becoming feral when they arrived in their first city. A chance for her to stay safe with people, their paths separating quietly.

But after three fights and an attack by Deathclaws, she preferred to stay with him.

So he taught her how to survive, use weapons, hide, follow a trail, earn caps. When asked why caps and not something else, he made a noise, saying he had no fucking idea, but men still wanted something to make business instead of helping each others for free.

After several months, he gave her a name. Cooper. Cooper Howard. He groaned when she asked him if he had anything to do with the old actor who did the Vault Tech commercial.

“Thanks for the bad memories, sweetie. An autograph ?”

“No thanks, never was a fan.”

"Ouch. Not even now, with my new look ? Do you think the cameras would like me ?"

“Let’s say that you will need less makeup for certain types of films, and a bag for others.”

Cooper laughed again, smiling at her with his slightly yellow teeth. It was obvious that it had been a long time since he had laughed like that with anyone.

He told her about his daughter after a year together in the wastelands. Handing her a photo, Y/N could see him as he was before, holding the little girl in his arms. They looked happy.

As she was about to give it back to him, he told her to keep it. It was the most important thing to him, so Y/N could keep the picture safe, and she would know that he would always come for her.

She muttered that she didn't doubt it anyway, putting the photo in her bag.

It was even longer later, when she had proclaimed herself the accountant of their small group, that Y/N noticed an inconsistency between the caps earned and the number of vials Cooper had.

“You should have five more vials.”

“Sugar, leave it.”

"No, really, I counted three times. I know the price by heart, you had fifty caps on your way to town, you should have fifteen vials. Is there a problem ? Has the price changed ? You… You Are you feeling well ?”

"I'm fine, sweetie. Sleep."

“But Coop…”

“Y/N, sleep.”

In the end, the price hadn't changed, Cooper was fine, but since they met, he had been spending his caps on non-irradiated water and food. For Y/N.

This discovery was a shock to her, who often watched him drink from puddles or eat human remains.

He didn't want her to do this. For her to become like him. When teaching her how to shoot, he added that it was just in case, because she wouldn't need to fight while he was there.

And now they were arguing about food, and he was ordering her to promise that she would continue to take what he gave her without question.

"You don't drink that dirty shit. You hear me, sugar ? Can you promise me ? You'll never drink that."

"… All right."

Their relationship was complicated. Cooper had probably told her everything, and yet he kept a distance. He didn't like her touching him, patting his shoulder or snuggling up to him to sleep.

Maybe he was afraid of making her sick. Maybe he thought she would rot on contact with him, and not just her skin.

Y/N really liked him anyway. They were both over 200 years old, even though she had been frozen during that time. They had spent a lot of time together. And even if she was still a little dizzy by his lack of nose, it wasn't the most important thing in a man.

It would have been two years when the raiders attacked. Far too many, so Cooper yelled at Y/N to run, to hide far away. He would come get her later.

Several days passed, and nothing. She was good at hiding, he had shown her, so it was possible that Cooper hadn't found her because she had become too good.

So she returned to the town where he came from, to at least find some informations. People did not easily forget the passage of The Ghoul.

But she didn't have to ask. She saw him in the bar, drinking and chatting with several guys.

Silent, discreet as a shadow, she came close enough to hear, thinking that he was in the middle of an business, and that she could surprise him when he finished with a beautiful reunion.

“You really don’t know where she is, Ghoul ?”

"Nah. Look guys, I know she was a real lil puppy that followed me everywhere, but I finally got rid of her, so I don't really care where she is. Not my problem. It was fun at first, but good riddance.”

She had seen the bomb fall, she had seen the bodies of her neighbors, but Y/N had never felt so bad as in that moment. She could feel her heart breaking in her chest, as Cooper and the others laughed together, mocking her.

Once, he had said that she should never trust anyone. It was an important rule to survive. But Y/N never believed that rule would include him.

With her bag and her weapon, she ran into the night, alone in the middle of the wasteland for the first time since she left her vault, and completely unaware of what she was going to do.

Only one thing was certain, she would never see Cooper Howard again.

#fallout #the ghoul #cooper howard #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard x reader

[finniestoncrane]

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1k giveaway commission: thank you @tearueful for letting me indulge in my subby little sadist side with their giveaway commission. cooper has reader all trussed up like a suckling pig and it's very difficult for him to see them as anything else 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: ropes, bondage, sadism, punishment, sub/dom dynamics, biting, knife play, biting/licking, mentions of wounds, blood, references to cannibalism

You knelt on the floor, back at an angle that let you rest your stomach and breasts against the floor, your cheek there too amidst the dirt and grime. You imagined this was part of it, the humiliation, the feeling that you were as low as dirt, nothing above it, not to Cooper at least.

The rope around your wrists burned the hardest. It was tight, too tight, and the sting tingled over your skin, a smarting pain that made you drool. As for your ankles, they were bound much looser, giving you range, the ability to spread your legs apart and expose yourself to him when he asked. But he had a lot more planned before that.

Cooper's boots were inches away from your face, his body looming over you as you looked up at him sideways from the floor. When your eyes met his he grinned, yellowed, aging teeth appearing slowly in a row as the corners of his mouth curled up cruelly.

"Now, this is your first rodeo, and I am a tough cowpoke. So I'll ask you again, darlin'."

He bent his knees, crouching next to you. A tip of his hat brim exposed his eyes, dark, but shining as he asked you once more.

"Are you sure you want me to give you the full Cooper Howard experience? Cos I can be a cruel, cruel man when I want to be. And I can assure you, that I almost always want to be."

You appreciated his concern. Honestly, you hadn't expected it from him, but it didn't dull the mood. If anything, it only sparked the fire inside of you, prodding at it, stoking it. He was offering you an out. He was there, in front of you, looking deep into your eyes and with all the sincerity he could muster, he was warning you.

He could ruin you. And he would try to. Were you sure that's what you wanted?

And it was.

So you nodded, enthusiastically, trying to keep yourself from smiling too much as you consented fervently to his abuse.

"Aw, just look at you, all trussed up and greedy, like a hungry little calf. Didn't even have to lasso you. No, this one just comes running for a punishment doesn't it?"

He kicked at your leg with the toe of his boot, knocking you off balance for a moment, chuckling as you wobbled.

"Yeah, Cooper... please... I'm so desperate."

Cooper was back down in a crouch, his hand quick under your chin as he grabbed it and pulled your face up, twisting your neck to an uncomfortable angle.

"Oh, I bet you are, little lady. Desperate and greedy. And so sweet about it too. I could just eat you up."

Sinking to his knees on the floor, his body collapsed onto you, pushing you harder into the ground, weighing you down, keeping you there, under his control. He placed soft, tentative kisses along your back, letting his tongue slip out, hanging over the corner of his mouth as he dragged it along your skin.

"You're ripe for the eatin', aren't you?"

Cooper's mouth travelled to your ass, kisses on the cheek closest to him.

"Thick, succulent rump..."

His teeth sank into your skin, rough, hard, enough that it made you squeal in response. He was firm in his grip, though, not letting up even when he felt you twitch against him, your body spasming from the sharp pain.

"What's wrong? You gonna put up a fight?"

You shook your head, biting your lip to stifle the soft sob that tried to come out, not wanting to put him off too much. When you managed to suppress the heavy breath, you told him what you wanted.

"No. No. I want this. I want you to hurt me."

"You want me to carve you up, huh? Slap you down on a plate and serve you up, hm?"

"Anything you want, Cooper."

He smacked your ass, sliding his knees back until he had sunk to the floor beside you on his stomach. With a steady hand, he unsheathed his knife, dragging the point of it up and down your thigh.

"I can't decide which bit of you I would eat first. Which part would be the nicest to have inside of me first, do you think?"

The tip of the knife sank into you, just enough that it created a small tear in your flesh, a small amount of blood emanating from it in tiny droplets. Stretching his neck out, Cooper pointed his tongue towards you, drool spilling from the edge as he pressed it to your skin, lapping at the metallic tang and groaning.

"You're gonna have me goin' feral, darlin'."

Around the wound, Cooper set his teeth, digging into you as he sucked the flesh into his mouth. Your skin prickled, a sharp sting from the cut as he tried to drink as much of your blood as would come out, tongue flitting over the slit as he moaned softly against your thigh. He pulled away with a loud pop, spittle coating you, falling to the floor, as he admired the reddening welt on your leg.

Your body trembled, your knees weakening in your state of arousal, feeling grateful that Cooper wanted you close, so close to him. Enough to ingest you, to have you completely. So much that you panicked when he moved away, standing up and walking around to your front. But your nerves settled as he hooked his fingers under your wrist restraints, pulling at them, tugging until you were kneeling before him.

Noticing the marking under the ropes, Cooper took his knife and cut through the restraints quickly, watching with pride as you kept your hands pressed together in front of you. He lifted one arm, slowly, grinning as he did so. Once it was at his face, he ran his tongue along the rope burn, tasting the heat of your wound.

He let it drop unceremoniously, smiling at you as he twirled the knife in his hand.

"Well, what's it gonna be? Where am I starting?"

#walton goggins #fallout amazon #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fic #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard one shot #cooper howard smut #cooper howard imagine #fallout tv #fallout tv series #cooper howard x fem!reader #fallout #finnie writes

[leviathanleva]

Daisy

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader [DARK FIC]

Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.

But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...

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

[5.7k words]

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 8 "The Lie"

It’s been a journey.

Parched and starved, you’d been dragging your feet over the desolate wasteland deep into the night. The promise of a guesthouse only a mile or two away keeping your spirits up and your soreness to a minimum. Your head was still fuzzy with the trauma, as expected after taking such a brutal blow.

A pale coat of dust covers your boots, the blood has ceased oozing and now clings to your hair and skin like haunting war paint.

Cooper hadn’t said a peep about what had happened earlier, didn’t complain about you keeping his hand hostage either, just let you soak his glove in sweat while indulging in chain-smoking.

The lights coming from the inn are a beacon in the darkness, they slice through the shadow of the night, beckoning you with whispers of a bed and a full night of sleep. An exasperated sigh leaves you when you finally see it.

It was once a farmhouse. Large three-story mansion built of wood and reinforced by steel sheets only after the apocalypse. There’s a barn to the side, presumably turned into storage, a handful of soil beds from which vegetables are sprouting, a small herd of brahmin lay huddled in a corner, under a flimsy tin roof, sleeping in the remnants of a stable. A large rusty gate hugged by a sturdy fence, electric too once you were close enough to hear the distinct buzz. The generator rumbles behind a locked door in the ground, the basement if your speculations are correct.

It’s a fine establishment by today’s standards, well-known for offering respite for travelers because it was plopped in the middle of nowhere.

Regardless of the newfound relief, your pace stays the same, too achy and drained to rush towards the finish line. It’s a slow and agonizing walk, feels like an eternity, but as you climb the front porch steps you crack a smile. Your hand is promptly released and you take your usual place behind the ghoul, the medical folder still pinched under your armpit and looking like an old pancake.

The rich yellow hues shining through the dirty windows illuminate the creaky wooden boards beneath your shoes, the old benches on either end of the porch, and the large urns hosting a blooming tato plant each. There’s a mud-caked mat at the entrance and you can scarcely make out a “welcome” sign beneath all the grime.

Cooper spares you a glance over his shoulder, heavy-lidded eyes and husky tone indicating he’s just as exhausted as you.

“Don’ wander. No talkin’ t’ strangers.”

“Got it.” you nod, suppress the urge to hold onto his coat, and follow after him through the door.

You’re flooded with cigar smoke and the smell of spirit. Methodical chatter hangs in the air, mixing with the fluent jazz from the jukebox, random paintings are strewn across the walls, hiding the peeling wallpaper, some of the hanging lights are intact, some are missing their glass domes. Simple wooden chairs and circular tables, mostly vacant aside from a few rugged personas stuffed in the darker crooks of the establishment.

You take in everything under lowered lashes and caved-in shoulders.

It’s a cozy place, an oasis nestled along the road, a lovely little safehouse that welcomes any who have the caps.

The bar looks out of place, it’s too new and polished compared to everything else, dark oak shining under the soft glare of the old lightbulbs. A plethora of bottles are on display behind it, most of their labels scratched out or simply missing.

“Where’s Monique?” Cooper rests a palm against the counter and cocks his head to the female ghoul absentmindedly wiping at a glass with a stained rag.

“Holy Moly…”

You’re awestruck at the sight. She’s the second ghoul you’d ever seen and a woman at that. Despite the decomposition, she’s still retained her feminine features, one could even call her exotically beautiful. Donned in a full-body apron, a turquoise polo peaks under it; her eyes are sunken but lively, however the veiny red sclera makes you cringe. It just looks damn painful.

“Nice to see you too, Cooper.” she barks a laugh, her voice – distorted by radiation, but still cheery and friendly. “She went to bed so I took over. What’ll it be?”

“Got any rooms left?”

You’ve decided to focus on the hand-drawn menu hoisted above the liquor cabinet, scrunching your nose at the radroach skewers and cricket potato stew. There isn’t much that would suit your pallet, especially not the yao guai jerky. What even is a yao guai? Another overgrown bug?

The drinks have more variety than the food, even though most are alcohol. There’s still just plain water, specified as ‘mostly rad free’, then there’s tato and cactus juice. The options aren’t mouth-watering, but the drawings next to the headers are cute, some of them are even colored in.

“Got two, lucky for you.” she pauses then and the friendliness on her gaunt face gives way to confusion. She leans to the side as you step out of Cooper’s shadow to get a better view of the menu, her mouth shrinks out of its prickly smirk. “Oh, hello.” her curiosity quickly blossoms into sweet glee as she stares you down with startling warmth, then tosses the bounty hunter a passing comment. “Made a new friend, I see.”

You stiffen as the realization of her attention on you sinks in. Rolling your eyes to her, you find her beaming and you can’t help but return her welcoming smile with an awkward one. You fix your slouched posture, straighten up because first impressions are important, and give a polite nod.

“Mitzi, good to meet you. And you are?” she’s all giddy grins and wavy hands, finding you as a good treat after a long time of only having gruff wastelanders as customers. And you’re more than happy to humor her, she matches your character perfectly and you feel her filling up your energy levels instantly.

Your lips part as you fully intend to reciprocate her brightened mood.

“I’m – ”

“–An annoyance.” a dismissive scoff, one which has you shoot Cooper a nasty look. He’s indifferent, doesn’t bat an eye at you, instead nudges his chin at the untouched bourbon bottle. “I’ll take that one, room too, don’ care which one.”

Mitzie turns to reach for the bottle and sets it down next to the bounty hunter before sifting through the ledger hidden behind the counter. Keeping the privacy of her customers comes as a nice surprise. She mumbles something soft, supposedly checking the available rooms, then looks up at you.

“Shower or nah?”

“Excus – ” you blurt, then stop and suppress the need to ask for elaboration. “Shower.”

If she was alluding to the possibility of taking a proper bath, you’d cry. After months of rubbing soap into your sweat and using saliva to wash out toothpaste, you felt disgusting. Dirt had accumulated in places you didn’t even know existed and all of this excluded the greasy mess your hair had become. At times, you wanted to crawl out of your skin with how crusty you were.

And the stench was a whole other story you fought valiantly to ignore.

“Gotcha.” she hums and stuffs her hand into a jar before pulling out a large, rusted key and handing it to Cooper. “Master bedroom, second floor to the left.” her baby blues dart back to you. “Just so you know, showers cost extra.”

You hear the disgruntled groan and your expression sours.

Of all the things he dismissed to save up on caps, basic hygiene was one which you fiercely disagreed with. You’d already had this conversation multiple times, him walking around smelling like a dumpster fire with no regard for how that made him look was unacceptable. His clothes needed washing, he needed washing, and you’d scrub him clean if you didn’t know he’d stab you if you so much as tried to bring your soap bar anywhere near him. Both of you were in dire need of a proper bath. You’d work him into the idea, you’d already succeeded once when you were less acquainted.

With a sigh, you blindly pat the side of your backpack in search of the pocket holding your caps.

“How much?”

“Thirty per shower.” she answers simply, then perks up to holler at a behemoth of a man waving her over from the back of the bar. “I’ll be right there!”

“Deal.” you chirp and point at the menu. “And a cup of brahmin bone broth, please and thank you.”

“Right away.” Mitzi graces you with another cheeky smile before rushing past the counter and through a door to the kitchen.

You’re close enough for the smell of roasting meat and herbs to waft into your nose, your stomach twists with hunger and gargles in protest. You clear your throat in embarrassment, the jazz music does a wonderful job of disguising the ugly toon. A clatter of pots comes from behind the kitchen door followed by a meager slur of curses that has you hoping your order wasn’t the cause.

After gathering enough caps, you extend your arm to leave them next to the register. Your attempt is shot down by a sharp slap to the knuckles, you glance up at Cooper and prepare to debate why you should be allowed to wash up and spend the money for it. He snuffs out your bubbling protests with a stern look and a dismissive flick of his wrist.

Mitzi reappears shortly after with a tray in hand.

“Here you are.” she lays down a steaming tin can in front of you and scoots to the register, which is mostly used for decoration. “You want the total or separate tabs?” she scribbles down each of your amounts and lifts her eyes to Cooper.

“Total.” he gruffs out and litters the free space on the bar with scoops of caps fished out from his bandolier.

You have to bite down on your bottom lip to prevent a grin and tuck away your money. He definitely knew how to turn your legs to pudding and tie your tongue into submission. Sadly now that meant you couldn’t complain for at least a week.

“Hundred-fifty. Oh!” the waitress sloppily wraps a rag around your drink and squeezes it in place. “Here. I tend to forget smooth-skins have more delicate hands.” she winks at you and proceeds to gather up the payment, combing through it with a long bony finger and counting. “We’ll get to know each other another time.”

Once she was sure of the amount, Mitzi stuffs it all in the hefty pickle jar labeled ‘earnings’, then sealed it shut and stored it somewhere around her feet. She’s back to polishing shot glasses, gives both of you a ginger smile and nudges her head towards the staircase to the right of the counter.

“Enjoy your stay.”

You take the broth and let your fingers soak in the warmth as you follow behind Cooper with bated breath and a spring to your step.

A bed and a shower, you were being spoiled tonight. The covers and sheets are probably old, the room itself is most likely slowly rotting away and covered in grime and dust, but it’s heaven compared to sleeping on the ground with one eye open due to threats skulking about. The last time you’d managed to get a full night of sleep was back in Tillburry, and just the thought of being undisturbed had you going through a plethora of pleasant jitters.

You give the greasy drink, your dinner, a good sniff while climbing to the second floor.

It’s not an aroma that makes you salivate, but you’ve missed the luxury of warm food and the herbs do well at overpowering the stench of boiled beef. Even under the weak light in the corridor, you can tell it’s fatty enough to keep you sated for a while, it’ll have to do. The can is used as a cup for hot drinks, the broth came from elsewhere, either that or you were scammed into eating dog food judging by the peeling-off sticker of a poodle.

You thump over a long red carpet rolled out on the floor, squint at the hacked cough coming from one of the rooms, and then stop a foot away from the ghoul.

He jams the key in and after a deft click, the door creaks open.

Your refuge for the night isn’t as bad as you’d imagined. The bedding is mostly white minus a few stains, the wallpaper is torn a tad, but intact and it’s all relatively clean, there’s even a few trinkets lying about to bring more life. A wall clock is hung above the curved sofa next to the window, it’s not working but it is a nice touch. There’s a night lamp on one of the nightstands, a wide drawer, an ashtray on the table along with two more chairs in case there were more than two bodies in the room. There’s even a deck of cards next to the crystal alcohol glasses.

You watch Cooper set down the bourbon and slouch against the couch with a long exhale before shrugging off his hat and coat and letting his eyes shut for a moment.

“Darn hell, what a day…”

Safety is painted in his mannerisms, you smile adoringly at him and shut the door behind you.

True to her word, there indeed was a bathroom. You switch the lights on and peek inside. The tiles are cracked or missing, it’s old but clean and there’s a bottle of Rad-X among the diluted shampoo bottles. Lovely!

You hear a ripple and whirl your head to see the ghoul lighting a cigarette. His feet are perched up on the table and crossed, his bandolier thrown over the backrest of the sofa, he takes a long drag and strains to push open the window.

“You know Mitzi?” you ask and shed your backpack with a delighted moan before kneeling to zip it open. With your trusty Vaseline and a tiny vodka bottle in your free hand, you join him on the couch, sitting on the opposite end to give him as much space as possible.

“Hm? Sure I do, met some years ago.” he twists to partially face you and pinches the smoke between his lips before grabbing for the bourbon. “Thought you’d wash up first thing. Changed yer mind?”

You chuckle at that and dab the vodka into your palm before rubbing it between your fingers. It’s a mundane little habit you picked up since you learned vodka specifically was almost pure spirit nowadays. Considering the unthinkable things you touched on the hour, from blood to dirt and worse, and without a sink to wash your hands, you needed this at least before eating.

“I’ll shower later. Wanna take a breather first.” you cradle the broth to your chest and take another good whiff before sighing. “Plus, I’d like to drink this before it goes cold.”

“Hope you know tha’ ain’t all brahmin, Darlin’.”

“Let me stay ignorant, please.” you mumble before taking a long sip.

Cooper cackles but decides not to ruin your dinner. You watch him pour a glass of bourbon for himself, mull, and then pour a second one before setting it next to you.

“Mm?” you give him a crooked look, frown with scrunched eyebrows.

“Heavy broth goes good with booze.” he gestures for you to take the offer with a keen smirk. “ ‘Bout time we pop your cherry anyway.”

“Gosh, don’t call it that!” you hiss through a flustered face, but take the glass and ignore his mocking grin.

The jukebox can still be heard from the main floor, it calms your apprehension and you twirl in your spot to open the window fully, looking to the sky for further comfort. You’re intentionally stalling as you swish the bourbon around, elbows rested on the windowsill and gaze lifted to the cluster of stars. A chilly breeze caresses your bare shoulders and you shudder.

“Thought you’d get bored gawkin’ at nothing by now.” The ghoul spits, watching you like a hawk because he refuses to miss your first time trying alcohol. You wish he wasn’t, it adds unnecessary expectations and you’re unaware of how exactly you’re supposed to react. By the smell alone, you’re guessing it won’t taste pleasant.

“I’ll never get tired of the sky.” you muse out loud with an unreadable expression, then face him briefly. “Has it changed over the years?”

You don’t know how old he is, he’s refused to disclose that with you, but from the subtle hints in the past, it’s been longer than the average person. You wish he’s looser, that he trusts you enough to share more about who he is and where he comes from. He seems to know almost everyone you’ve crossed paths with, could work with any weapon and traversed the wasteland without a compass or map and still know exactly where he’s going.

“ ‘Sides the radstorms, not much.” he rolls his tongue over a mouthful of bourbon, then audibly swallows and scowls. He raises his glass towards you, waiting for you to mimic him. “ ‘Nough stallin’ ya pansy, it ain’t poison. Drink.”

Your nose is already wrinkled at the idea, but you oblige him by lifting the drink to your lips. Holding your breath you take a tiny sip and your skin explodes in goosebumps before the fire registers on your tongue. Your taste buds feel defiled, the foulness makes your eyes pop open and you spit before the urge to gag crawls too high up your throat.

First impression: No.

“Ugh…Ew!” a hand clasps over your mouth, obscuring both disbelief at the fact you’d spat straight against the window and pain at the utter nastiness of the flavor. You take the rag wrapped around your now lukewarm broth and wipe off the evidence with urgency. “How do you like this stuff? It’s awful!”

He’s cracking up a storm on the other end of the sofa, having burst into such an abrupt fit that half his drink was running down his vest. You sneer through a glare, hoping he catches your translucent reflection in the glass and feels at least a drop of remorse for your misfortune.

“Glad to make you laugh.”

He tries to say something, a snippy remark most likely, but his gullet is too dry and nothing comes out when his mouth parts. He washes down the hoarseness with another swig of alcohol and tries again.

“You’re doin’ it all wrong.” he’s all up in your beginner technique, even though you weren’t open to be taught how to become a proper alcoholic. Nasty habit that, but he’s given you no choice. “Gotta let it rest on yer tongue, enjoy the taste ‘n go slow.” he can see you sulking even with your back turned to him, can practically smell the discomfort and annoyance emanating from you.

He tones down the decibels when you refuse to face him. Unlike you, Cooper finds the concept of convincing you that drinking is a fun pastime activity strangely thrilling. That, and he’s a horrid old man who selfishly craves to claim all your first experiences, no matter what they are. It’s a vile desire and he’s aware, but the longer you exist in his presence the further his obsessive protectiveness develops. He chalked it up to you being dumb and defenseless, it was natural to become possessive of you and want to keep you safe.

He’d be caught dead before he let some mangy bastard touch you before him or be present for your first cigarette. And he’d take this revelation to the grave because he was too prideful to admit to his urges. This was for your protection, better him, a person you trusted, than anyone else.

“Come ‘ere.” he takes off his gloves and extends a hand to you, beckoning you in the softest way he can muster. “I’ll teach ya.”

You look back at him and the angry frustration simmers down to mild irritation when you notice he’s reaching for you. Tasting that nightmarish poison again makes you queasy, you don’t want to and you’re fussy, but falter for him once more with the intent of giving it another go and then never again.

He’s paid for your dinner, bed, and shower, it’s only fair to entertain his stupid ideas. That doesn’t mean you’re going to smile through the whole thing though, no, you’ll grimace until the end.

He shifts until his feet are firmly planted on the floor as you round the table.

“One last time.”

“Last time.” he repeats through a haggard breath and as soon as your fingers dip into his open palm he spreads his legs farther apart to accommodate a plan you were blissfully unaware of. “Promise, Sweet pea…”

He coaxes you closer, tugging on your hand until you’re standing between his legs, radiating confusion. Guilt prickles his heart, you don’t deserve to be manipulated into succumbing to his perverse advances. It wasn’t even a good lie. Teaching you how to enjoy bourbon…a load of horse shit, but what were the odds that you’d so pliantly let him desecrate you once the concussion and fatigue didn’t stand in the way of clear thinking?

You were vulnerable now and he was a fiend for taking advantage. He’d deal with the consequences later.

The concentration carving his expression is hidden under the guise of darkness as he gently lures you down until you’re hesitantly sitting on his thigh. An arm coils around your waist to keep you in place, you’re face to face and the ringing in your ears increases, completely deafening the music from downstairs. Blunt fingers melt into your supple flesh, deliberately massaging away the prolonged day. You’d had it rough today, poor little thing, you needed some good kneading.

He’d give it to you. Whatever the hell you wanted, you’d have it.

Rotten man. Defiler.

He shakes the thoughts away and feeds on the sugary lavender hints beneath the sweat clinging to your body.

You’re engulfed in warmth and finally, you can put a name to the ever-present musk he carries around – bourbon and cigarettes; the smell of home. Your hands are resting in your lap, pinching at your dress in a nervous tick as you fight to keep eye contact. Inexplicable tension writhes in the air, it chokes you with sadistic glee.

Cooper’s studying your features as they twist, searching for something specific in the involuntary muscle twitches.

“You don’ like it, you call quits. Got it?” he speaks softly, but with authority, already taking another sip and letting it rest in his mouth.

You’re no less lost than you were two minutes ago, left to wonder what he means because your glass is on the other side of the table. But now he’s mute with alcohol and unable to elaborate verbally so you simply nod in understanding.

“Got it.”

No cheeky smirks or mischief is dancing in his eyes. He’s the most serious you’ve ever seen him, it’s nerve-wracking, you’re left to blindly follow his guidance and you trust him, but anticipation has no boundaries. The bedroom turns stuffy and his once welcomed heat is forming sweat on your forehead and pinching at random nerves throughout your body.

He glides a hand to the back of your neck, holds it with solemn tenderness. You make a pathetic noise when he leans you back until you’re cradled in the safety of his arms without leverage, hovering above the sofa as he watches over you with a mellow look.

“Tha’s it…steady, Pretty girl.”

You’re rigid and hesitant in his embrace, don’t know what to do except give in and let him work you like a puppet. It’s humiliating, you want to be an active participant, give him what he wants without him having to hold your hand, but you can’t. The only soothing thought that comes to mind is that he’s a dominant man, he probably doesn’t mind.

Probably even likes it like this.

“This okay, Sweetheart?”

You barely register he’s asked a question, the gravel in his voice seizes your breath.

“Yeah…Yes?”

The ghoul is languid and gentle when he leans forward, taking his time, but you notice the twitch in his fingers, the hidden urgency behind the façade he’s adopted to not scare you away. But he’s still a rugged man, you can tell by the callouses on his palms and the leathery skin on his face as it rubs against yours.

It’s a peck at first, makes you tingle all over. He barely brushes his chapped lips against yours, testing the waters, and dulling your awareness with patience before he shatters and ruins your innocence. But you’re too enticing for your own good. You don’t startle; cling to his vest instead and shiver with a milky moan and his resolve cracks.

With a ravenous snarl, he squishes you against his chest when you offer no protests and the hands that held you are now clutching. He kisses you with a bruising need, changing into a brutish oaf as his tenderness fades. Your mouth opens in a gasp and he lets the bourbon seep past his teeth and ravage your taste buds. The flavor is the last thing on your mind as he devours you whole, a few droplets escape from the corner of your lips and trail down your jaw until they soak into your hairline. Starved of everything soft and sweet, he gorges and palps, litters you with clumsy bruises because he’s forgotten how to handle someone such as you.

He tilts his head to one side and his tongue glides past your teeth to twirl around yours, forcing you to open wide. His eyes are hidden behind squeezed lids, leaving him purposefully blind to your current expression. He didn’t want to see rejection, didn’t want to know if you were disgusted but too fearful to pull away. All he needed was just one moment of indulgence disguised as him teaching you to drink. Let him feast upon you for a bit and he will never touch you again afterward, he swears it.

It’s just to show you how to enjoy a good glass of alcohol.

But you weren’t stupid, you already knew this was all a charade. It’s agonizing when you wrap your arms around his shoulders and clutch at his back. You’re klutzy in your love, a shaking mess as you try to match his pace, but this is too new and with an absent mind, instinct can only tell you so much. Still, you fill his cavernous maw with high-tuned chirps of affection and you’re so pleased despite the uncertainty, you’re aching for him, you’re just as starved if not more.

Cooper wasn’t prepared for reciprocation, it leaves him boneless and barely holding you both steady.

You let your eyes close as well and guzzle down the remainder of the booze from his mouth. A strained growl reverberates in his throat as he cuts down the urge to buck into you. Too soon, not yet. He’s taken enough from you for one night.

You suck in a breath as your knees turn to jelly. Your thighs are quaking; he presses one hand against them to soothe you and earns a muffled mewl. It’s raw lightning, sparking over your skin and making your clothes feel so damn constricting. You’re clawing at your tights, scratching at his sleeves, turned feral with lust and lilting pleas in his chewed-up ear.

A clash of teeth and jerking tongues, muffled sounds of indulged wants and thinned nerves.

He’s intoxicating, gruff to the bone and you avidly drink in everything he offers.

“Greedy little thing…” he rasps over deep breaths once he’s pulled away enough to take in your possum-like state. “So how’d you like the bourbon?”

A dull ache forms in your core at his sweet derogatory coo. You bite the side of your cheek to stifle the vulgar rattle trying to escape the confines of your heaving chest.

He lifts you into a proper sitting position and readjusts your dress back over your legs because he’s a gentleman tonight.

You’re a mixture of labored inhalations and sputtered words, struggling to descend to normalcy and proper manners. It takes you a moment to find your voice, you speak before thinking, high on a newfound addiction – him and his taste and his smell and everything that had to do with him. The knots in your stomach ease, but you’re still absently fiddling with the straps of his vest while trying to regain composure.

“Can we…” you shrink as his heavy gaze makes your throat tighten, lower your eyes in bashfulness but your insides burn and you need that fire sated. It’s his fault you’re like this, him and his sinful vulgarities. “Can you show me again?”

He croons a laugh and bloats with pride, doesn’t even care to take a shot before he latches onto you again.

“Needy girl…So pretty f’ me.”

You’re the one with the lingering hands now, sigh in relief when he violates your mouth again as if being apart had been torture. Nimble fingers intrude on his spine, slipping beneath the loose collar of his shirt and mapping out the marred flesh like it’s a piece of art. He shudders in your hold, mouths something that gets lost among the vocal sloppiness emitting from your feverish kisses.

You’re too eager at the mixed saliva dribbling down your chin, too delighted when he pauses to lick it off and keep you partly decent as he suffocates on his passion. You cage him between your thighs like it’s only natural, nestle down on him because he’s your new throne and he shoves a hand between your bodies to adjust his straining erection before you find out how desperate he is. You’re too spread and willing, unaware of the debauchery your actions hint towards.

He’s a man gone wild beneath you, boiling and unchained and drinking in your wanton display. A blank canvas for you to paint whatever you wished on as you submit to cravings he’d unraveled. He was a perverse bastard, stole your first kiss and hadn’t even made it proper, but there was nothing right in this world anyway. You returned his advances, you were happy, the rest be damned.

You leave his scalding tongue and nipping teeth to pepper his bony face with butterfly pecks. He’s a silent enjoyer, lets you drown him now that you were unleashed, with a ghost of a smile and lazy blinks, mild and content. Time slips past in a blur until you’re finally satisfied, having pruned and memorized every inch of his face.

You’re studying his features while cupping his jaw when the haze fades and you register just how many lines you’d crossed. His hardness digs into your thigh and you wince because you’d climbed him like a mountain, sat on him like he was just a chair and not someone you held dear. You’d taken advantage of his docile form, oblivious to the fact that this was what he’d hoped for from the start. You’d treated him like a tool to cater to your horniness without ever considering how much strain you’d put on him.

Maybe you weren’t as smart as he’d thought. No, that wasn’t it. You trusted him too much. Took his every word as fact.

Your heart is pounding and the trembling returns with twice the vigor as your serene smile dies.

“Oh my God…Jeez! I’m so sorry. Wait! I– ” you blabber while prying away with clumsy movements. You’re sure you’re about to have a heart attack and die on the spot.

What have you done?!

Why didn’t he stop you? Why did he look so high when you’d forced yourself on him without even asking for his consent? All he’d done was try to ease you into drinking and you’d thrown yourself at him like a…

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t even ask you…Why didn’t you say – Sorry. I’m – ”

“Whoaw there, Cowgirl.” he springs to action, forced out of his delightful trance by the utter horror written in your eyes. He grips you before you manage to stand, coercing you in a bear hug. Opposite to your shaken state, he rounds up your skittishness with honeyed words and caring touches. “Easy now, Sweetness. All’s fine, easy…easy.”

He stuffs you in the crook of his neck as you sputter more apologies, nuzzles his cheek in your hair and coos. You’re inconsolable for a time, badmouthing yourself because you knew no better and it’s heartwrenching because it’s his fault for taking advantage of your trust. He rocks you into silence while chuckling, criminally unapologetic.

“Now if I didn’ want any o‘ this I would’a kicked you off long time ago. ‘S okay, Sweet pea, all’s fine.” he palms himself until you can’t feel the incessant poke anymore, the scowls at his meager self-control. “Damn thing got a mind of i’s own.”

You hum in response, whiney and weak. He snorts at your deflated mood, to think his boner would be the cause of worry is comical. He lets a jab slip to bait you out of the cesspool of self-bludgeoning you’d thrown yourself in. He could be truthful and lay out the entire farce before you, but that came with the change you’d never let him near you again. Cooper isn’t a good man, nor a truthful man and what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you.

“Now quit yer mopin’, you’re ruinin’ m’ shirt.”

It does the trick. You stiffen against him and choke because how dare he.

“Asshole!” you recoil and land a weak fist against his shoulder. “You’re the one always ruining everything. I’m thinking about your comfort and your consent and trying to be nice and all you ever do is mock me. Awful man! You don’t even use the toothbrush I gave you. And you’re horrible company too.”

He’s laughing for the countless time that night, catches your wrist, then your other one, stifling your tantrum. A grin peeks beneath your stern glare, his high spirits are too contagious, and you wrestle against his unweaving hold without much zest.

 “Too bad.” he gives you one good jerk and you faceplant into his neck, then rests his chin against the top of your head and you can hear the cocky smirk forming. “Is either me or the wasteland, Darlin’, and the wasteland don’ give no kisses, trust me.”

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 9 >>>

🌼 Daisy Masterlist 🌼

Tag list: @bountydroid @windierhades @ultimatreality @gruffle1 @v3lv3tf0x

@fallout-girl219 @one-of-thewalkingdead @robin-the-enby @savanahc @whatthefuckkrichard

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#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #x reader #the ghoul fanfic #fallout fanfic #cooper howard fic #cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #cooper howard fanfiction

[your-averagewriter]

“I’m gonna marry this woman.”

Summary: Cooper has a job to get to and (y/n) ends up looking after Janey for him when Barb isn't free leading him to realise that she's the woman for him.

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: swearing, kissing, saying God not in the religious way (blasphemy I guess)

-

-

Cooper wraps his arm around my waist as we walk through the park, Janey holding his hand on the other side. Cooper and I have been dating for over a year and at the start he tried to keep our relationship separate from Janey as he didn’t want to make it too overwhelming for her after the divorce but now it’s been a while since we were officially introduced.

“There’s an ice cream truck over there.” I point out. “Janey, do you want some ice cream?” I ask, looking over to her.

“Yeah!” She smiles.

“Coop, do you want one?” I ask and he shakes his head. 

“You girls treat yourselves.” He says and then a ringtone comes from one of his pockets. “It’s work, I’ll be right back.” He gets his phone out and looks at who it is before walking a little bit away.

“Come on, Janey.” I invite. “Let’s get some ice cream.” I say as she takes my hand, which always makes my heart warm a little. “What flavour would you like?”

She examines the board of ice cream flavours before announcing her choice. “Toffee, please.”

“Good choice.” I smile, before walking up to the ice cream stand and buying her toffee ice cream and a strawberry one for myself. “There you go. Don’t drop it.” I pass it to her gently as she takes it and we walk over to a bench, sitting down and waiting for Coop to finish his call.

“What’s daddy doing?” She asks, enjoying the ice cream.

“Oh, he just got a call from work, maybe a new acting role.” I say and she smiles. “He should be back soon.”

“Did you know I used to act with daddy sometimes in the ads he used to do?” She says proudly.

“Oh really? Wow, you’re a little superstar.” I smile, Cooper walking back over not long after.

“How was the call?” I ask, as he walks over. “Any good news?”

“Mixed. Mixed.” He repeats.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, the good news is they wanna hire me.”

“That’s great, Coop.” I interrupt, jumping to my feet and wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug with a bright smile.

“You haven’t heard the bad news yet.” He warns, pulling back with a slightly frown. “They need me on set in an hour to sort out some sizing and contract stuff.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I ask.

“I already called Barb and she can’t take Janey for the afternoon so I can’t go.”

“I could look after Janey for you.” I offer.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” He says.

“You’re not asking, I’m insisting. If you’re okay with it of course.” I smile as his hands find their place on my waist.

“If that’s alright…” He gives in after a few moments with a hint of a smile. “God, I love you, woman.” He says, pressing a kiss to my lips with a full grin now. “I’ll go check with Janey, if that’s alright. I’m sure she won’t have a problem with it, she adores you but I should anyway.” I nod, letting him go.

“I’ve got a job I gotta go to, sweetheart and mommy can’t look after you for the afternoon. Is it alright if I take you girls home and you stay with (y/n) for a little while?” She nods quickly with a smile, a resounding yes making Cooper chuckle.

“I think that’s a yes, (y/n).” I laugh.

“Let’s go then, we don’t want you to be late.” I say with a smile.

---

“I should be back around 5:00, 6:00 at the latest.” He reassures me.

“Babe, don’t worry about it, we’ll be fine, take as long as you need.” I press a kiss to his cheek. “Good luck. We’ll see you later.” I press a kiss to his other cheek and wave with Janey as he drives away. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go inside. What do you wanna do?” I ask, taking her hand as we go inside. 

“I wanna show you my room and my stuff.” She drags me towards her room, picking up various toy cowboys and horses that they ride. “You have so much cowboy stuff? Does your dad buy them for you?”

“Yeah. We’ve got matching cowboy outfits.” She says before diving into her draws and pulling out two matching outfits, one clearly an adult’s size whilst the other fits Janey. She begins to put it on above her clothes and I drop the cowboy hat on her head gently. “You should put daddy’s one on so we can match!”

“Really? You don’t think he’d mind that I was stealing his clothes?” I tease with a small smile.

“Isn’t that his jumper you're wearing?” She giggles.

“I guess you're right, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” I say, putting the outfit on until we look like matching cowboys.

After a while of playing, I make some food for the both of us and a portion in the microwave for Cooper as it nears the time he said he would be home. Some tomato pasta that we eat while still wearing cowboy outfits. I chuckle as Janey gets some of the pasta sauce around her mouth, passing her one of the tissues to wipe her mouth with.

Cooper stands outside, about to open the door but looks through the window seeing Janey and I eating the pasta. A smile almost fills his face as he tries to cover his smile, mumbling to himself.

“I’m gonna marry this woman.” He whispers, sounding more like a stereotypical cowboy than ever before opening the door and walking in. “How’re my two favourite girls doing?” He grins as Janey runs towards him as he opens his arms to hug her.

He mimes the tipping of a cowboy hat at me with a small smirk and I shake my head, silently saying ‘don’t ask’ but smiling softly.

“How did the job go?” I ask, walking over to him by the door, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Good, first role I’ve got in a while.” He mumbles. “Just an ad but everything counts.”

“I’m so proud of you.” I smile, hugging him tightly, Janey doing the same despite not entirely understanding the context.

---

Cooper pours two glasses of wine, expensive wine, a celebration if you will after Janey’s gone to bed. Janey went to sleep in the cowboy outfit and made me promise not to take mine off so, being a loyal woman, I happily keep it on.

“Cheers to you, baby.” I smile, lifting my glass into the air as he does the same, clinking the glasses.

“Cheers.” He laughs, taking a sip before putting his glass back down on the coffee table. “I wanna ask you something and you gotta promise not to freak out.” 

I’m intrigued, sitting on the edge of my seat already smiling slightly but nervous. “Is it bad?” I ask, the anticipation now killing me.

“Nah, nothing bad, sweetheart, I promise.”

“Okay. I can’t promise I won’t freak out but I’ll try not to.” I say, watching him intently as he leans before kneeling on the ground in front of me. “Cooper, what are you doing?” I laugh with a smile. “Get up, you’ll spill the wine!” 

He kneels with one leg up, the other against the floor.

“(y/n) (l/n).” He starts and I’m still confused by what he’s doing. “I don’t have a ring but I thought this was the perfect moment to ask, will you marry me?”

I stand up, hand over my mouth, entirely shocked as I look down at him smiling up at me.

“Cooper, this better not be a fucking joke.” I warn, tears collecting in my eyes as I look down at his serious yet smiling face.

“It’s not, darlin’ I promise. After seeing you with Janey today, dressed up as cowboys making her pasta I just knew you were the one for me. I only regret not getting you a ring and asking you sooner.” He grins.

I stand absolutely frozen, standing up in front of him as a tear goes down my cheek.

“Why would you propose to me while I’m dressed like a cowboy?” Is the first thing I say, slightly muffled by my hand and he just laughs.

“I had to.” He kneels before me, without a ring but with all the right words. “Will you marry me?”

“Yeah, yeah, Coop, of course.” I say, overwhelmed with emotions, happiness being the dominant one but tears still in my eyes. “Oh my god.” I say as he rises to his feet wrapping his arms around me as I wrap my arms around his neck, as close as we could possibly get. “I can’t believe you.” I mumble into his shoulder.

“I love you so so much and so does Janey, you’re just so perfect for me.” He says and I could swear I hear a voice crack.

“I love you too. I can’t believe you though. What am I gonna say when people ask what the proposal was like? That I was dressed like a cowboy?” 

“I think you’re worrying about the wrong things right now, sweetheart.” He chuckles.

“I know. I can’t even begin to process the fact we’re getting married.” I press a kiss to the side of his neck. “Oh my god, I love you. I love you. I love you.” I place a kiss for everytime I say ‘I love you’ and he just smiles, taking the kisses.

“I must be the happiest man in the world right now.” He says with a grin as wide as his face.

-

AN: I hope people aren't getting bored of Fallout fics because I am not.

#cooper howard #fallout #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x y/n #cooper howard x yn #cooper howard x you #fallout x reader #fallout x y/n #fallout x yn #fallout x you #cooper howard fanfiction #fallout fanfiction #fallout fanfic #x reader #x yn #x you #x y/n #fallout show

[expirednukacola]

ORANGE COLORED SKY 🏜️ || The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

𐚁⊹₊ ⋆☆

AHHHH! The first chapter is getting so much love and attention! I can’t believe it- This is making me cry! I love you all so, so much! SUMMARY: After two hundred years of some much needed beauty sleep, reader wakes up and realizes she has been given a second chance at life.. only to look like a piece of scorched summer sausage.

TW: GORE + GHOUL CANNIBALISM? + A BRIEF MENTION OF A “BIG IRON” 🔫

og gif made by: @lousolversons

“Don’t they know it’s the end of the world..”

“..‘Cause you don’t love me anymore.”

As your limp body fell to the brown, dead grass beneath you, you look up at that disgusting orange sky with such hatred and contempt before — Darkness. Nothing but darkness shrouded your senses alongside Death’s eery, cold chill.. At least death provided some relief for your decrepit, burnt body.

You finally felt.. free. Free from life’s fleshy binding that attached you to the mortal plane. Free from life’s troubling trails and tribulations that would’ve dragged like heavy chains on your body until the weight of them became too much. Free from pain, free from suffering, free from fear — Free from the horrible world itself.

…Until some asshole decided to turn the damn lights back on.

You woke up with a loud gasp and almost immediately, the pain of hunger and thirst was overwhelmingly evident in your facial expression. “Fuck- W- Water..” Like a zombie who was ran over by an 18 wheeler, you stood up on your little “Bambi” legs and looked around the wasteland that surrounded you. Nothing but patches of dead grass, cracked and crumbled dirt, and the occasional tumbleweed was all that you could see — Besides the dilapidated remains of Mr. Shit-Stain’s house.

“..How the hell is this thing still standin’?” You rasped out as you fumbled towards the tumbledown remnants of the house, the P.O.S. glass shard still sticking out of your leg like an annoying family member that never wanted to leave when it’s Christmas- or any holiday for that matter. Carefully stepping over the pieces of glass, you cautiously entered the house through the large broken windows and looked around what used to be a living room. Some things were still standing, like the couch, the television (minus the ginormous crack its screen had), and one of the most rinky dink coffee tables you have ever fuckin’ seen. “..Pretty sure ‘Bobby’ picked that shit out-”

You cut yourself off by letting out a much needed laugh and after a few minutes of laughing and snickering like a hippie high on mary jane, you staggered on over to the kitchen.. and that’s when you saw your saving grace- THE FRIDGE! Somehow, that piece of metal was the only thing unscathed from that damn blast! You thanked the heavens for this one of a kind gift that you most definitely deserved and you opened it to find-!

…A shit ton of mold and one dead and pretty large roach. “…After all I’ve fuckin’ gone through, I am gifted THIS?! THIS IS WHAT I GET?!” After kicking the fridge door shut, you went to pinch the bridge of your nose only to find out that you no longer had one. That’s when you finally looked down at your hand and your arm. With your heart now starting to collide with your ribcage, you quickly inspected both of your arms and then both of your legs, noticing how one of your arms was more skeletal than the rest of your limbs. “No, no, no, no..!”

You quickly ran around the decayed bits and pieces of the house until you finally found what used to be a bathroom. Immediately gazing into the shattered mirror, you saw how your once beautiful and youthful face had now become twisted, corrupt — grotesque, if you will. On one side of your face, it resembled shattered porcelain and your eye was milky white.. the other side was just a burning memory of what you used to be.

After a few minutes of pulling yourself together, and pulling that damn piece of glass out of your leg, you finally ventured out of the house and back to the “wild, wild west” of Lost Angeles (see what I did there?), and began your little adventure to find something to eat and at least a pond to drink out of. As you hobbled around the wastelands of an already wasteland-like city, you finally stumbled upon the rotting “corpse” of someone who looked just like you. He had the same red, fleshy blotches all over his face and his entire body, and his nose was missing as well. You guessed it was some type of peculiarity people like you shared.. well goddamn-

But something else about him struck a tender little chord in your hungered state.. His chest cavity was busted wide open, like the doors of a Golden Corral on a Sunday afternoon. Your mouth started to salivate, your stomach started to rumble, an animalistic growl spewed from your vocal cords.. and you ran as fast as your legs could, despite your leg that was still in its healing process. Once you were right next to the decaying and rotting body, you quickly dropped down to your knees and began to feast.

Dark, thick blood covered your hands, your chin, and those sweet lips of yours as you stuffed your mouth with that man’s flesh and what remained of his organs that once nestled underneath his ribcage. The only thing that was left whole was his heart.. his delicious, succulent heart. Slowly, you lifted his blackened heart out from his body and began to suck the little bit of blood that dripped out from the aorta, lapping it up as if it were the best water you have ever drank.

“Oh, sweet heavens above!” -were the first words you have uttered in a hot minute when you finally had your hunger satisfied — your thirst quenched by your newfound animalistic appetite for flesh and blood. “..Fuck- Thanks for your help, sir.” As you stood up and wiped your bloodied hands on your top, you heard the familiar sound of a gun getting cocked.. Well shit-

“Hold it right there, missy.” That voice.. That southern twang.. That teeny tiny lisp that’s barely noticeable unless you really listen.. You quickly whipped your head around, but instead of seeing your beloved cowpoke with those sweet dimples you love oh-so much, you saw someone who merely looked like him. You let out an audible gulp and reached your skeletal hand out towards the creature’s face, but he stepped back in response.

“..Cooper?”

“..Y/N?”

Your vision slowly began to fade in and out and the one to catch your collapsing body was that sweet, tender man you knew and fell so deeply in love with before The End. “I got you, missy.. I got you.” Were the last words you heard before you finally gave into the darkness once more. The Ghoul cradle you close and tight to his chest — Oh, how he craved feeling your comforting warmth against his own once more. How he yearned to hear your sweet, gentle voice again. How he ached to gaze into those kind eyes of yours; those pools of life that he had to be careful with because he didn’t want to drown in them.

Now, he’s finally got you safe in his arms..

..Or does he?

———————

I apologize for this chapter being shorter than the first one so consider this chapter 1.5! I was a little busy today with some personal stuff but you all asked so kindly and I hope you all liked this one as much as the first one!

TAG LIST: @lexiway121 @onyxclown @hellolettuce444 @leo4242564 @minaxcarter @a-case-of-attachment @hiddenworld666 @looneylooomis @sunnexaltation @coolrobloxkid28 @enaelyork @foggyturtleknightangel @ghcstvibess @haleymaccosplay @classaysstuff

#the ghoul #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Bloody

PART ONE: DOG MEAT

Also on AO3

Mini-series masterlist

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Bounty Hunter!Reader

WC: 2.3k words

Series Summary: Hunting down your father’s killer – a powerful raider by the name of Axl – you end up being saved from a bad situation by none other than a ghoul. After finding out you have goals in common, you form an uneasy alliance with him, but things get much, much more complicated than that.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, THIS FIC IS 18+, Dead dove: do not eat, canon typical violence, the ghoul being the ghoul, swearing, drug mentions/use (chems), enemies to lovers, eventual smut, blood/gore mentions, sorta dom/sub dynamics, some mentions of cannibalism, angst, some whump, aaaand for now that’s all i can think of but lmk if another tag is needed.

A/N: This is my very first time writing for Cooper Howard/The Ghoul, so I’m still trying to learn how he talks/carries himself. Excited to be writing this little mini series though! :) hope you like <3

———-

Blood flowed relentlessly toward your head, making the upside-down world blur into a vivid amalgamation of color. The raiders' laughter sounded more like the barking of jackals, coming from all around you, disorienting you further.

As you fought to stay conscious, your muscles strained against the ropes that held you up, the rough material biting into your skin. Your head was hovering just a few inches away from the surface of murky, radioactive water. You could feel more than see something lurking in its depths, hungry, waiting for the right time to strike.

And you? You were the bait to lure it out.

Where had it all gone wrong, exactly?

Well, perhaps it had started with you being so overly confident. Sure, you had learned more than a few dirty tricks in your years as a bounty hunter – having to keep yourself both fed and alive while you completed your actual mission – but that didn’t mean you could fight off a large group of brawny, ruthless raiders all by yourself.

At the very least, you’d managed to kill one of them and injure another with your crossbow before you were rewarded with a strike across your face. Bright white stars ignited in your vision as you were quickly subdued and strung upside down from the rusted arm of a broken crane.

The worst part was, you’d barely had time to ask any of the questions you’d wanted to ask. You supposed you’d never been a great interrogator, anyway, but that was something to concern yourself with another time; If there even was another time.

“Come on, where’s the fucking gulper? We don’t have all fucking day here,” one of the raiders, a big-headed bald man, gruffed.

Another one of them, scrawnier and rat-like, let out an amused grunt. “Heh, should’ve just chopped her up and sold her as dog meat.”

“Still time for that, if it doesn’t come,” the bald one said. “Think we should lower her more? If her head’s underwater, she’ll thrash around and maybe get the gulper's attention.”

At this, panic flared within you once more. You tried moving your wrists, legs kicking more and more urgently. The raiders laughed again at your rendition of the gallowdance. Your head felt like it was on fire, dangerously nearing an explosion.

Distantly, you heard the creak of metal as the rope that held you aloft was adjusted. Your body jerked as it began to descend, the crown of your head now submerged. Your mind raced as you tried to find ways to save yourself, but it was getting harder and harder to think. You wanted to scream, but you were only able to make a weak, gurgling sound.

There was a loud splash, entirely too close for comfort. Jeering from the raiders as they prepared for a gruesome show. You began to accept your fate, dismay over your failure to complete your life’s mission greater than your fear of death.

But suddenly, you heard various gunshots in rapid succession. It’s a fucking ghoul! somebody shouted frantically. The confused screams of the raiders followed along with some answering shots. The heavy thump of bodies collapsing, one by one.

It was silent for a moment, except for a breeze settling the dust and your heartbeat pounding in your head like a drum. Then there was the soft clink of spurs as someone approached you, an old pair of cowboy boots appearing in your vision.

You tried craning your neck to get a better view of your supposed savior. You could barely see his face, the sun haloing his head like a saint’s. But there are no angels in the wasteland, you thought deliriously, only roaming devils searching for carrion to pick on.

His voice was low and raspy, with a southern drawl that was almost soothing, in a strange way. “Well, well… Ain’tcha just the prettiest hunk of meat I ever did see?”

A shuddery gasp escaped your throat as you felt the rope loosen a little more, fully submerging your head. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you were swallowed by darkness, immediately unconscious.

—-----------------------------------------

“See that there?” your father whispered, pointing up at a cluster of stars. “That’s the big dipper. And just below its tail is the little dipper. Do you see ‘em?”

You nodded, awed by the simple, ephemeral beauty of a still night sky. Your father’s soothing presence, his patient teachings, the world not so horrible when seen through his eyes.

“Like us,” you said with a smile. “Always together.”

His smile was sad then. You couldn’t remember it being that way, but memories tended to warp over time, didn’t they?

“Yes, sweetie. Always together,” he said, trying to sound as promising as possible. “But if we ever separated, for whatever reason, remember that you can look up at the sky at night, and you will always find us there.”

—------------------------------------------

You woke up sputtering, thinking you were still underwater. Your stomach lurched violently and your body twisted onto your hands and knees, retching. Spewing bile as yellow as the RadAway you found yourself hooked onto. Panting with both exertion and disorientation, searing pain lancing through your skull.

It was close to sunset, the sky beginning to burn orange and gold, the atmosphere cooler. You were still at the quarry where you’d first encountered the raiders, but you were a safe distance away from the water.

You could smell and hear a small campfire nearby. Felt a presence behind you, a heavy gaze fixed on you.

“You must be all kinds of stupid, huh? Chargin’ into that battlefield of your own makin’, not even a hint of backup around to help.” The ghoul shook his head with amusement. “Then again, you must’ve been lookin’ for a guaranteed death… So which is it, suicidal or stupid?”

You spat on the dirt and roughly wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, glaring at him. If you knew one thing, it was to avoid ghouls as best as you could. Coming across one from time to time was inevitable, but you’d never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be saved by one. Or that you would still be in one piece in his presence.

At least he wasn’t worse for wear, and nowhere near feral. He was missing his nose, as all ghouls did, and his skin was leathery and burnt. His features were skeletal, shadowed under the wide brim of his hat. Otherwise… he wasn’t unbearable to look at.

“No? Y’ain’t gonna tell me?” he said, the curiosity in your stare not unnoticed by him. His eyes roamed over you in return. “Gotta be honest, I was real tempted to take a bite earlier, but I never really took a liking to dog meat.”

He chuckled and your frown only deepened, hatred and rage alight in your eyes. You tried to scoot further away, but it was then you noticed a rope was tied around one of your ankles, the other end of it under the ghoul’s boot.

“What do you want with me, ghoul?” You croaked, your throat scratchy and raw from the stomach acid.

“Well, that ain’t very grateful of you, sweetheart. I saved your skin back there,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment, unholstering his pistol. “I could’ve been just as unmerciful as those raiders, if not more.”

You swallowed hard at the imagery, but you didn’t let your dread show. “And why weren’t you?”

He leaned forward, barrel lazily pointed at you. His eyes narrowed expectantly, and you realized he truly wanted to hear some gratitude from you before continuing.

Stubbornly, you clenched your jaw shut and continued to glare. He looked off into the horizon, noticing how quickly the light was waning.

“Think you’d fare any better when the fiends come out to play? Or some super mutant?” He mused, his tone bored. “I ain’t got a whole lot of time here.”

After the day you had, you didn’t really want to take those chances.

The words crawled up your throat like a second wave of acid, scalding your tongue as you uttered them. “Thank you… for saving me.”

“Now there’s a well mannered girl. Knew you had it in ya,” he said with a roguish grin. “Y’know that means you owe me one, don’tcha?”

You dipped your chin in confirmation, hating that you couldn’t argue with him on that one. Not many — if anyone at all — were spared the wasteland, so this was not something to be taken lightly. Especially not while already being tied to him, with virtually zero chances of escaping alive.

“But I ain’t gonna cash in that favor now, so don’t worry your pretty lil head ‘bout it,” he continued, but you didn’t feel at all eased by that statement. “I do wanna know somethin’ though… just what on earth possessed you to follow those men?”

You blinked at him in both surprise and confusion. How did he know that?

“See, I’d been trailing that group of shitheads for a few days. Was after that big headed fella, the leader, Tiberius,” He waved his gun around dismissively, like that part of the story was irrelevant. “But then, I noticed they had another shadow behind them — A quiet lil mousey jus’ like yourself.”

You shrugged one shoulder, unsure of how much truth you should actually give him. “I was looking for some information.”

“What’s that?” He spoke up, cupping his hand over his ear. “What you mumblin’ for? C’mere so I can hear you better.”

With that, he stood up, yanking the rope with more force than was necessary. Your back hit the ground, dust and rocks scraping your skin as you were pulled towards his feet. Trying to stop yourself with your hands only ripped up your palms, so you went slack on the last tug towards him.

He tilted his head to one side as he observed you, a flash of teeth that showed his continued amusement.

“Much better. Now what was that you were sayin’, darlin’?”

You bared your teeth in return, internally fuming. “I said I was looking for some goddamn information.”

He gave you a mocking pout. “Aw, sweetheart… fella wasn’t as forthcomin’ as ya thought, was he?”

“Fuck you,” you spat before you could stop yourself.

“There’ll be time enough for that,” he chuckled, settling his boot on your hipbone. “But first, what kind of information were you tryin’a get?”

“Why do you care? The fuck’s it to you?”

The barrel of his gun was pointed at you once more in warning, right between your eyes. His boot pressed down on your hip until you squeaked, knowing it would bruise.

“His brother… Axl,” you panted, gripping his boot in a futile attempt to get it off you. “I need to - I need to find him.”

He let out a long, low whistle. “Axl, huh? Now I know you really got a death wish, and you’re just stupid to boot.”

“You wouldn’t get it, ghoul,” you said through gritted teeth. “I don’t expect you to know anything about losing someone you love.”

He tensed then, hand trembling for just the briefest second. His features hardened, chapped lips thinning into a flat, angry line.

He lifted his boot only to land a harsh kick to your ribs, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Again, you felt like hurling, coughing violently instead.

“Oh, I know a whole lot more than you think, smoothie,” he said, going silent for a moment as he seemed to think. “Why you lookin’ for Axl? I can jus’ take care of you right ‘ere if you want to die so badly.”

“I’m going to kill him, with my own fucking hands,” you growled, too spent to beat around the bush any longer. “He-he killed my father last year.”

The briefest moment of stunned silence before the ghoul burst out laughing.

“Ain’t that somethin’. You? Takin’ out the big bad raider all by yourself? Now I’ve heard it all,” he shook his head once again. “You’re a spunky little gal, I’ll give ya that much.”

“It’s the law of the wasteland,” you said. “He owes me.”

He crouched next to you, his interest fully piqued. One side of his mouth was pulled up in a sly grin, his gaze held by yours.

“Tell ya what, I myself got some business to attend to with our dear friend Axl, and I just so happen to know where the fucker likes to hide out,” he said, enjoying the sparkle igniting in your eye — that thirst for revenge, for blood.

“Please,” was the only thing you could say, breathless, gripping his tattered coat. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything, huh?” His tongue ran over his teeth pensively. “Well, seeing as you owe me a favor, I was just gonna take you along with me. Easier that way for you to repay me.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, not wanting to stay on the ground. Your heads were much closer, but you tried your hardest not to let it get to you.

“What business do you have with him?” You asked warily.

“That ain’t none of your concern, darlin’,” he said, removing the rope from around your ankle to bind your wrists together. “Trust me or not, y’ain’t got no choice but to come with me. Now get up, gotta find ourselves a place to hole up in for the night.”

Painstakingly, you stood up, grunting with both pain and the exhaustion that suddenly crashed into you. As soon as you were on your feet, he tugged you forward, not waiting a moment longer before starting to walk.

“If things go tits up, well… Least I got myself a little snack for the road,” he said over his shoulder with a wink.

“I thought you said you didn’t eat dog meat.”

“Heh, well, you’re starting to prove to be a little more useful than that. But we’ll see about the taste.”

——

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout fanfiction #the ghoul fanfiction #cooper howard fanfiction #minors dni #monster tag #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #cooper howard smut #cooper howard fanfic #the ghoul smut #the ghoul fanfic #cooper howard #the ghoul