* Cooper and Y/N *
Cooper Howard has wondered the Mojave wasteland for over 200 years becoming as wild and hardened as the land itself... He never expected regain his humanity when he meets Y/N or to feel the softness and warmth of skin under his f...
I'm so drunk... the words are falling out of my mouth before I can think. Closing my eyes, I can already feel my hangover coming.
It's been a whirlwind two weeks out of the Vault, and being here with Cooper, in his bed... HIS BED. Is by far the craziest thing I've done. To be fair, up until 2 weeks ago, the craziest thing I had ever done was watch 4 back-to-back films with my dad.
My mind swirls with the past 24 hours, 36 hours... 48 hours? It's impossible to know because since I met Cooper, everything feels different, especially my concept of time.
He is equal parts terrifying and charming. The way his soft drawl rolls over me, his frame of reference for things I know nothing about excites me. He excites me.
His touch, I can feel the electricity and the soft burn as our skin touches.
The hum between my legs is still apparent.
Never have I been touched like that. Chet was way too handsy, and although we messed around A LOT, there was limited success in climax for me.
Not a problem with Cooper.
Pleasantly reliving the last few hours in my head, I hear him moving about the room.
Rattles and clicks... I open my eyes enough to see him inhaling from a vial.
"What is that?"
"That darlin', is the difference between having my fingers inside you and having my fingers INSIDE you."
His words wash over me. I think I understand what he meant, but my mind and my body are exhausted, spent, and satisfied.
The last thing I felt was the bed dipping as he got in next to me and the dog grunt.
This was weird... I liked weird.
Hours later...
Bright sun creeps through cracks in the wooden walls. The tattered and bleached curtain linen shift gently in the draft through the window frames, bowed and splinted over centuries of neglect.
The light spills across faded furniture and ornaments. A rug that was maybe once green sits planted under a newer-looking trunk with clothes scattered over it.
The dog has jumped off, probably to find another bed in another room. I turn over to see Cooper's bare back. The sheets bundled at his waist.
The rise and fall of his shoulders cast shadows across the channels that flow over his body. Definition of muscle crossed with the tanned skin shine and glimmer in the light.
I reach my hand to trace the lines of his torso, centimeters from his body. I feel the static prickling my fingertips and the anticipation of touch. I feel alive.
"It sure ain't any prettier in the daylight, is it?"
How long has he been awake? Does he even sleep?
My fingers connect with his skin. His already tight body stiffens. Does he feel what I feel too?
I run my fingers over his back and down the backs of his arms.
Cooper rolls onto his back, his head turning towards mine. He shifts one of his arms under his head, getting more comfortable.
His dark eyes simmer, looking over me and through me.
He is handsome. I bet he was handsome before..
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