#cantiquefics

Gif credit: emmcarstairs

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Chapter 3: Old World Blues [Link to Ao3]

Ghoulcy / Lucy x The Ghoul, mostly smut. A little plot. Feelings eventually happen. All pre-season 2.

CN: Violence, a dude being sexist, sex, sexual penetration, good old fashioned creampies, sex with feeling, YEARNING, men literally becoming a cowboy zombie instead of going to therapy.

Preview: 『 “Can we stop for a second?” She asks. “Why?” He asks, turning his head to look back at her, frowning. “Ya’ hurt?”

“No.” His expression falls with her response, his head facing back ahead. Here we fuckin’ go. “But you are—“

“Feel jus’ fine.”

“But you’re—“

“Only thing causing me any sense o’ pain at all is someone’s yappin’,” he says over her, not budging. He hopes that this will be enough to shut her up, that it’s prickly enough to make her back off.

But she doesn’t, and he should know damned better than to hope she does, because she’s gotten comfortable. ‘And why exactly is she so damned comfortable?’ He wonders to himself as she keeps intermittently trying to talk him into stopping. ‘Because you bust a nut on her goddamned face, that’s why.’

Gif credit: doortotomorrow

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Chapter 32: That's a Wrap - Part 2 [Link to Ao3] **FINAL CHAPTER - FIC COMPLETE**

Cooper Howard x Reader, pre-war Hollywood au setting, kinda slow burn, Cooper Howard is horny & it makes him feel guilty.

CN: SEX. (YAY.) Choking. Ghoulcum being radioactive. Y'know. There's also a brief part of this where there's an 'implication' of SA (I guess more of a fear of it like in the previous chapter) but it's never actually threatened or comes close to passing. Promise.

Preview: 『 Without another word, you take this as your permission to continue, climbing onto his lap, straddling him on the couch, the hand dropping from his face immediately to find its way to your thigh along with the other one. Finally, he seems to give himself permission to really, really take you in, exploring you with his gaze as he inhales sharply through his teeth, almost hissing. “Sweetheart—“

You reach out and take the cowboy hat from the arm rest, putting it on your head and offering him a smile.

This does something to him, his gloved hands starting to wander as he grins at you, a certain little glint in his eyes that’s all too familiar to you yet still makes your stomach flip like it’s the first time. “Real dangerous, y’know,” he says, his voice turning low, his hands smoothing their way from your thighs upwards to your hips. “Wearin’ a man’s hat like that. Y’know why?”

“Why?” You ask, bringing your own hands to his chest and slowly sliding them up and over his shoulders, resting them behind his neck.

“You familiar with the cowboy’s code?” He asks, waiting for you to shake your head before he continues. “Lotta’ rules t’ bein’ a cowboy. Mostly ‘bout respect, fairness, that kinda’ thing… but there’s a very, very important rule ‘bout hats.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

It involves Fisto.

First of all, thank you so much for all the love on Kinda Like a Cowboy. I was really nervous about picking up Ghoulcy again because it's been so uhhhhh volatile (especially when it's not the only ship you write for and you see people on all sides copping shit) but you've all been really lovely about it and your comments and support have really meant a lot as I'm going thru it.

Was in hospital last night with some preterm cramping (I'm only 22 weeks bordering on 23 so that's not good) and I have some other complications that put me at risk of preterm labor. I'm back home today (yay) and it's a long story but the whole thing is touch and go at the moment and there's a pretty high likelihood my care is going to be transferred to what's called a level 6 hospital, which is a specialist hospital that specializes in micro-preemies and my son will have the best chances at survival and better long-term outcomes if he DOES arrive early. There's also some interventions they'll do (including a small surgical procedure) that should hopefully keep him in there until at least 28 weeks, which is when his survival chances skyrocket from 50% to about 85%.

Otherwise, he's in excellent health. He's not in distress at all, he's healthy, keeps kicking the ultrasound probes whenever they try to look at him (he's very into castle doctrine, apparently,) and not at all distressed. It's literally just an issue with my cervix.

What this means is that I'm back at home for now but I'm asking that everyone stay patient. I plan to write more of Kind of Like a Cowboy as season 2 plays out because it keeps giving me ideas, and I've had some other ideas for some pre-war Coop/Reader fics, not to mention that I have a Doctrine and Covenants update almost ready (I know, it's been forever, I'm so sorry,) but the uh 'schedule' is going to be fucking cooked and all over the place.

There's a chance that when/if I'm admitted for the surgery I'll be kept in the hospital for upwards of 10 weeks (I know, right?) but I will have my laptop with me and I'll be on bed-rest, so I won't have much else to do but write, really! Prompts and suggestions are always appreciated in my asks -- I have anon asks turned off because the Fallout community is what it is right now (unfortunately,) but if you don't want me to post your ask, let me know and I'll keep it to myself and just publish the fic when/if it's one I pick up. I ain't no snitch.

Extremely happy I managed to finish it before Season 2 released, even if I only beat it by a very thin 24 hours. I'm sure the reveal of more of Cooper's backstory is going to absolutely REAM this fic into oblivion canon-adherence wise but I still did it and that's what matters to me.

I'll do a *fancy* post later, it's 3am

Gif credit: doortotomorrow

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Chapter 25: Silver Linings [Link to Ao3]

Cooper Howard x Reader, pre-war Hollywood setting, kinda slow burn, Cooper Howard is horny & it makes him feel guilty.

NO CHAPTER CNS

Preview: 『 Her eyebrow lifts, her gaze passing over your shoulder and through the archway that leads to the living room. “Janey,” she calls, cutting you off, smiling once she has her daughter’s attention. “Time to go.”

You turn, catching Janey as she scrambles to drop her plate on the coffee table as though she can hide from the fact her mother caught her red-handed with her forbidden slice of cake. “But—“

“It’s already an hour past bedtime,” Barb insists. Her tone is warm, but there’s a firmness to it that acts as a warning. She’s not negotiating tonight. “Go say goodnight to your father and let’s go.”

Janey sighs, her shoulders dropping as she gets up off the couch, heading back outside towards the party at a pace that no one with eyes would describe as urgent. Which leaves… you and Barb. Standing in the front doorway, both of you seeming to wait for the other to speak first. You can hardly even bring yourself to look at her. She hasn’t said a single word to you, but her presence makes you feel this weird feeling and it makes your cheeks hot and— oh, that feeling is shame, isn’t it?

Of course it is. It suddenly dawns on you how much you’ve been avoiding even thinking about this.

“I… uh…” you clear your throat, and your eyes glance up to her from your shoes — but it only lasts as long as it takes to see that her expression has turned cold again before your gazes drops back down. “I’ll go get Coop—“