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staefire · 1 year ago

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bloody knuckles | 18+

a cooper howard x reader

summary: a vengeful ghoul, a torrid past, two souls lost in the wasteland- a bond forged in survival is a bond that is forever unbreakable, and yours has stood the test of time. until your betrayal ruins it all.

warnings: brief canon typical violence, themes of guilt & betrayal, a lot of angst, maybe a slow burn? idk if it can count as that, a lot of smut, (face sitting, piv, unprotected sex, spitting, cannibalistic metaphors, one sir kink, etc.) obviously a lot of deviations from the original plot of the show, etc. (long word count: 6.6k)

note: i didn't spell check this or have anyone beta it or anything. any inconsistincies or errors are all mine. enjoy! xx

The first time you had met him, he held a gun to your forehead and asked if you had seen a woman by the name of Barb. He remembered the way you looked, wide eyed like a doe in the headlights of a truck, your pretty blue jumpsuit stained with blood that neither of you were sure was yours.

He didn’t see you for another decade after that fateful meeting, and when he did, you looked the exact same.

This time, the second time he met you, he stared at you from across the streets of Filly, eyes low beneath the brim of his hat. When you walked up to him, he wondered aloud: What kind of moisturizer are they keepin’ down in them vaults? You had smiled at his comment, and offered to buy him dinner with a bag full of caps.

After that, another ten years passed.

Cooper wasn’t one hundred percent sure where you would go, but he knew each time, the years between dripped slow like molasses. He had met you on ten different occasions, and on those ten different occasions, you disappeared for a decade and came back to him looking the same. He wasn’t sure how you did it, but his curiosity fueled part of his survival, and each time he would ask you questions, they were all cleverly designed as off handed remarks or old Southern quips.

He watched you, like a predator stalking their prey, pupils blown black like stones of onyx. The Ghoul was always waiting, watching, listening with intent, perked ears ready for you to slip up and feed him slivers of the information he so desperately craved. Yet, despite his approaches, you gave him nothing, not even a dry bone that he could nibble at.

It was almost like you knew what he was trying to do.

After hunting you for so long, wondering where you would disappear away to, he had become consumed with the thought of knowing you to completion. He was viciously enamored with the idea of learning your secrets, and would look for years on end for you like a feral dog sniffing out carrion.

Cooper wanted to pick you apart, he wanted to take your organs out, feel your heart beating- he wanted to know you, inside and out, in the most macabre and consuming of ways. He wanted to bloody his knuckles with your viscera, feel it dripping down his throat like nectar. He wanted to know what you tasted like, what all of you tasted like, what your neck felt like beneath his teeth.

For Cooper Howard, you had become his guiding light in this Wasteland. When the nights grew lonelier, when the settling weight of reality crushed down on his chest and he began to wonder if he could ever find his family again, your eyes would flash into his mind. He would become ignited with desire, a desire he had not felt for many, many years.

A desire that, truth be told, scared him.

For many years you were his stars- the very light which guided him in an otherwise dark and uninspired world.

He had ten years to ruminate on the aforementioned facts, and the next time you saw him, everything was completely different.

Today, the sun was beating down hotter than usual. The sand beneath the soles of your worn boots sizzled like the embers of a fire. In the distance, a swarm of vultures were cawing, picking apart the bones of those who did not make it.

It had been so long since you were inside your vault.

“You continue to fail us.” The council’s words were at the forefront of your mind, loud and clear. “Again and again we put our trust in you, and again and again, you fail. Your mission was clear. This go around, you’ve failed for the last time. Your crime befits the worst of all punishments: permanent banishment to the surface.”

It had been so long. So many decades had come, so many decades had passed. The years were convoluted, more theory than memory at this point. Who you were, who you used to be- none of it mattered.

None of it mattered, especially not now. You could hardly remember what the vault rations tasted like, you could hardly remember what the television static sounded like. But if there was one thing you could remember, it was your favorite movie.

“There’s an old Mexican eulogy. Feo feurte y formal. Means he was ugly, strong, and had dignity. Well, Joey… I’ll give you two out of three on that front.” You whispered the lines to yourself over and over again, twirling your imaginary gun and shooting at no one in particular.

With a heaving sigh, you leaned yourself up against an old, worn stack of car tires, looking out at the barren desert. The heat was radiating off of old sheets of metal and forgotten car hoods, useless puddles of radioactive water sizzling with diseases you had probably never heard of before.

For the first time in a long time, you felt completely helpless. The Ghoul was nowhere to be found, the Vaults had completely shut you out, and the only other people you had met on the Wasteland wanted to fuck, kill, or eat you.

“Feo feurte y formal.” You muttered, again and again, until you crashed beneath a barren tree, face first in the sand. You laid there until you felt your face burning red hot, pulling away to cough up whatever grains had managed to make their way into your mouth.

“Water.” You whispered, your fingers digging deep into the sand. You remembered a documentary you had watched, before all of this, that showed a man digging into the sand to hit water. Perhaps that’s what you could do. You began digging with what little strength remained of you, and soon tears began picking at your eyes the deeper you got, the realization that you would die in the barren wasteland heavy on your shoulders.

“Fuck.” You whined, grabbing a fistful of sand and chucking it. “Fuck!”

There were footsteps behind you, a familiarity to the sound of the boots they wore. You didn’t care. If they wanted to kill you, so be it. You would die anyway, your fate had already been signed and sealed.

You pulled your dirty hands out of the well you had made, fruitlessly at that, leaning your forehead against the trunk of the cracking tree.

“If you’ve come to rob me, I have nothing.” Your voice surprised you. Bitter, rough- completely different than your usual cadence. With each passing day, your vaultie lifestyle seeped from your bones, and you knew it was futile to nurse it back- it was gone for good, never to return.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

Oh.

That voice.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the golden warmth of familiarity draping over your body. For the first time in what felt like forever, you smiled.

“Cooper Howard.” You whispered, tracing a line with your nail down the chipping bark.

“It’s been a while, sugar. Turn around, give me somethin’ pretty to look at.”

A hoarse laugh escaped you, and you shook your head. A stray piece of hair fell from where you had it tied back, and you pushed it behind your ear, using all your might to stand back to your feet. Everything hurt, everything ached. You had never felt like this before, and it scared you.

“Not this time, I’m afraid.”

You turned around, meeting his gaze. His face stood unwavering, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. A sly, arrogant, perfect smile.

“The fountain of youth dry up or somethin’, pumpkin?”

It had been twenty years since the first bombs had dropped. And you, asleep in your metallic cocoon, were blissfully unaware of this. You were told by your boss, Barb, to take a pill and climb in to the bed, that your slumber would take you to the future, that you were special, and had a bright journey ahead of you.

Her smooth talking did wonders, and you had no qualms with her request.

As one of the up and coming employees of vault-tec, you had proven yourself as a worthy, intelligent, integral member for their plans.

The end of the world was an incredibly easy thing to profit from, and you were going to be sent every decade on a mission to see the effects of radiation, the way the surface dwellers mingled, and you were to report back any unusual finds.

Today was your first day out of the vaults. Your very first mission.

Bright eyed and full of hope, you stepped out of the vault with a pack of supplies and a shining smile. You had been jaded by the company you worked for, and with a mind sweetly rotted by their ideas and promises, you knew you would do anything for them, for their agenda.

It was on this trip you met him for the first time. Cooper Howard. Hollywood star, your favorite actor, and the crowning jewel of vault-tec commercials. How could you not recognize him? Despite wanting to run up to him and ask him your laundry list of questions, such as: Why aren’t you down in the vaults? What’s happening with your skin? Where’s Sugarfoot? You kept your lips sealed and followed the main rule of your mission: Give nothing away.

The air was hotter than anything you had ever felt before. It covered you like an unwanted blanket, and left you dampened in a sheen of your own sweat, dripping down your temples with every step you took.

In the distance, you heard the hustle and bustle of a settlement, the first you had ever seen, and with a newfound smile, made your way over.

It was dingy and crumbling, constructed by crates and boxes, various vendors lining the foul smelling streets. The stench of shit and burning food filled your nostrils, and the crowded lanes filled you with a sense of claustrophobia you had never experienced before. And for a Vaultie, well…. that was saying something!

“I got fried roach over here! Fried roach! Ma’am, may I interest you in some fried roach?”

“Dog meat! Come get your dog meat! Fresh off the grill!”

“We’ll give you caps for junk. Did you hear me folks? Caps for junk!”

You ignored the vendors trying to sell you things that you would never, ever, buy in a million years, attempting to ignore their calls and shouts. You kept note of everything on your pip-boy, trying your hardest to hide it from wandering eyes. In the distance you saw a parcel of land that wasn’t crowded, and quickly made your way over, happy to have some respite from the chaos.

Resting on a chair was a darkened figure, their face hidden by the brim of a low cowboy hat, worn and dusted. A pair of large hands, the backsides beginning to slowly pull apart to make way for rough, ugly patches of toughened flesh, were whittling the tip of a stick.

“Excuse me?” You called out softly, hesitant to step forward.

“Better go on and get out of here, girl.” His voice was low and familiar, and your stomach tightened at his tone.

“Um…. I just…. I have some questions I want to ask-” You stumbled over your words as you struggled to get your sleeve off of your pip-boy, wanting to document the man.

His eyes, beneath the brim of his hat, noticed the device around your wrist, and in record time he had you pressed to the ground with a gun to your forehead. In this position you saw his face, and your eyes widened with the realization of who it was.

“What… what are you- what are you turning in to?” You couldn’t stop the question from rumbling from your mouth, eyes wide with horror or awe, you weren’t quite sure. His gun to your forehead was an afterthought, your eyes entranced by his new appearance.

There he was. Cooper Howard. The silver tongued, gun slingin’ cowboy from your favorite films, now a victim to this haunting wasteland. His skin was slowly pulling apart, his upper lip scarred with the color of burnt umber. His beautiful eyes, those dark orbs of hazel, were becoming hollowed with sunken sockets, and his nostrils were chipping away. And yet, despite it all, he was still Cooper, not yet gone.

He ignored your question, speaking through bared teeth. “Have you seen a woman named Barb? Do you know where she is?”

Of course you did. She was your boss, she had been enclosed right beside your capsule, peacefully asleep with her darling Janey beside her. But you had signed your rights away, your life now belonging to Vault-Tec and the mission they had given you. You wanted to tell him, you really did. But you had a duty to your employer.

Despite your inner morals begging you to tell him the truth, you quickly shook your head. “N-no. I don’t know who that is.” You whispered, gulping thickly.

Cooper’s eyes flashed with an image of guilt, and he released you, pulling you up as he stood back on his feet. “I’m sorry. I’m…. losing my mind in this world. I didn’t mean you no harm, miss.” He dusted his hands off on his pants, scratching at the back of his neck.

He opened his mouth, offering you a branch of kindness. “You need some water, little lady?”

"-No, no, no. That ain't no answer, princess. You know better than that." He was dangling the flask above your head, a shit eating grin stretched across his mouth.

The Ghoul towered over the space where your body had collapsed upon, your knees imprinting with the gravel and sand beneath you, prickling at your skin and leaving deep indents. You looked up at him, eyes pleading, as his gloved fingers grabbed ahold of your chin.

The position was almost erotic. Perhaps it was.

"Now, I'm gonna ask you one more time. Or else I'm going to pour all this water out and make you lap it up like a dog. Got it?"

You groaned in annoyance, nonetheless nodding.

"Damn, Coop. I thought we were friends."

"We are." He responded, a Cheshire cat smile illuminating his features. "I wouldn't give anyone else a chance as good as this one, little lady."

You scoffed out, a deep sigh rattling your body. "Fine. Fine!" You tossed your arms up in a final act of resignation,

"Good girl." He pat your cheek, crouching down to your level.

"Now, why are you aging all of the sudden?"

You stared into his sunken eyes, searching his irises for any sort of emotion. He remained steadfast, his fingers gripping tighter into your flesh.

"Need me to countdown for you?"

"God Dammit Howard, no, I don't need you to countdown for me. I'm not a child." You scoffed, chewing on the inside of your cheek. "Fine. I... no longer have access to the.... thing that made me stay young."

"Thanks for the detailed answer." Cooper scoffed, tilting the head of the water bottle towards the ground. A stream of water fell from the tip, and you cried out in annoyance.

"Fine! Fine, Coop! I got fired from my job as a researcher for the Vaults and they kicked me out and now I can't sleep in my pod for ten years anymore!" You shouted in one breath, causing Cooper to laugh in pleasure at your outburst.

"Alright, alright. Here you go." He handed you the bottle and you took it with both hands, chugging at that sweet, sweet water until you were sure you were going to drown.

He snatched it away from you, leaving you hanging.

"Who else is in the pods?"

"People important to Vault-Tec." You muttered. "But, I-I don't know where they keep everyone." You explained, blinking up at him through heavy lashes. "Honest." You lied straight through your teeth, and Cooper sighed, running a hand down the back of your head.

"Alright girl. Go on and get up." He grabbed your hand, helping you to your feet. He started walking, and you called out to him.

"Can I come with you?"

"Unless you want to just sit there and die!"

You chased after him, grabbing ahold of his harm. "You walk too fast, hey- stop it, you're walking too fast. Chill out for a second."

"Fuckin' vaulties." He grumbled, and you couldn't help but let out a breathless laugh.

By the end of the night, you two had pitched a camp in an abandoned store, a fire crackling in the little room you had made yourselves comfortable in.

"Got some wrinkles now, you know." Cooper pointed at the corner of your eyes with his knife, whittling a stick he had found on the way in. A sense of familiarity rushed over you at the scene, and your meeting many moons ago filled your mind. You couldn't help but grin, before scoffing at his comment.

"I'm not elderly. I'm only-"

He cut you off. "Don't care how old you are, darlin'. Just tellin' you like it is." Cooper shot you a wink.

You took in a deep breath, sucking in your cheeks as you drew shapes into the dirt you were sat upon. "So... what have you been up to out here?"

The Ghoul scoffed. "Tryin' to make small talk?"

"Um... I don't know what else to do."

"We can sit in silence."

"Fine."

"Or..." He began, looking up at you with a smirk. Cooper dropped his knife and the piece of wood, shuffling towards you until your shoulders were touching.

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, his ungloved fingertips tracing over the side of your eyes.

"Or what?" You asked quietly, barely able to take in a breath.

He had a devilish gleam in his eye, and you knew something was stirring around in those thoughts of his. He leaned forward, his forehead nearly pressing in to your own, and traced over every feature of your face.

"Or we could sit here and talk about all those damn wrinkles."

"Shut up!" You snapped, pushing him away. He laughed to himself, tickled he got you, and sighed out in contentment. You looked at him, and a smile broke out on your face.

"I'm just jokin'. You ain't even that old." He slapped his knee through his giggles, laying back on the ground with his arms behind his head.

You stared at him, scooting closer to his body as his eyes fluttered shut. For a few moments you weighed your possibilities, before damning them all to Hell and crawling into the alcove of his body.

He didn't stop you. He let you rest your head on his shoulder, and soon a limp arm fell across your waist. When you looked up he was glancing down at you, eyes heavy with the promise of sleep.

"It's good seein' you again."

You nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah." He confirmed.

You stared up at the ceiling of the collapsing roof, a stream of moonlight beating through a wide crack. It seemed as though all of the stars were out tonight, silver and sparkling, like millions of diamonds stuck in the sky.

The sky was what you looked forward to the most each time you left the vault. You didn't have views like that down beneath the ground.

"Pretty, ain't it?"

You nodded.

Cooper nodded beside you, his fingers tracing shapes into your side. You felt his gaze upon your body, and when you turned to him, you realized how close you two were. If he had a nose, it would have been pressed right in to yours. The thought made you grin.

He looked at you as though you were an entirely new being, a new thing he had never laid eyes on. You shuddered when his hand grazed your cheek, finding a resting spot against your face as his warm thumb drew circles into your skin.

The Ghoul cleared his throat, his brow ridge furrowing as he tilted his head.

"What?" You asked quietly, blinking away your confusion.

"You're just... hmm." He tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth, as though he were weighing out what he should say next. "You're just beautiful."

"What?"

"Do y'all not get your ears checked down there? Damn."

"Sorry. I'm just... I- that was not what I was expecting you to say."

"I can be nice."

"There's a first for everything." You murmured.

"I love firsts." Cooper breathed out, his breath hot against your face. He smelled like aged leather and gunpowder, and it was intoxicating.

Your lips were so close, almost touching, and you swallowed a thick gulp that had lodged itself into your throat.

"I do, too." You whispered.

"Thanks for the confirmation-"

"Shut up." You closed the gap between your mouths, lips melting in to his own as you kissed him. It was a frenzied kiss that had been brewing for hundreds of years, a kiss that tethered your soul to his, a kiss that was more intimate than any sort of sex you had had within your lifetime.

A kiss shared between two creatures with an unspeakable, perhaps even unbreakable, bond.

Cooper held you close to him, dragging you on top of him until you were straddling his waist, one palm flat against your back while the other held your neck, holding you close to his face.

His tongue swirled against your own, a hungry grunt escaping from the back of your throat as he explored you, his tongue pushing so far in to your mouth that you wondered if he was trying to taste your heart.

"You're delicious." Cooper whispered into your mouth, his fingers knotting in to your hair and tugging you down until your cheeks were squished together, so close and tight together that you were worried your bones might break.

Cooper was a hungry man. He was starved. Ravenous for your body, your taste, your touch.

"Take this fuckin' thing off." He ordered, tugging at the zipper of your suit. You obeyed without hesitation, standing up to kick it off. "No underwear? Naughty."

"I let it breathe." You joked with a shrug of your shoulders, returning to sit on his lap.

"No, no. Here." He demanded, and you watched as his finger pointed to his face.

Your stomach erupted with butterflies as you blinked rapidly, your bottom lip catching between your teeth.

"Ain't got all century, princess. Hurry on up."

With a breathless laugh you climbed over him, slowly lowering yourself down until you were practically straddling his face like a saddle, your hands cupping the sides of his head as you positioned yourself.

A moan left you as his tongue licked a strip up your pussy, the tip of his muscle dipping in and out of your slick folds.

"All for me?" He hummed against you, his hands holding your ass, massaging your flesh with his calloused touch.

"Always." You whimpered, grinding yourself down upon his mouth.

Cooper pulled his tongue away from your lips, moving to focus on your clit. Oh, he had been waiting for this. He had been craving this. For what felt like millions of years, all Cooper wanted to know was what you tasted like. He wanted to pull you apart in the most intimate of ways, he wanted to dive deep within you, deeper than anyone else had ever dared to go before. If he could, he would take you to the height of pleasure, he would introduce you to pleasures only he knew of.

The Ghoul would have given you the world if you asked, and he knew how foolish he was for it, how stupid he was.

The one woman who had let his guard down, the one thing he let enter in to him after all these years in the middle of nothingness, in this wasteland of ash and bone.

Your cry of pleasure knocked him out of his thoughts, and he became aware of his motions, of his tongue lapping at your sweet cunt, soaking your taste up like a sponge. Your arousal was dripping on his cheeks, smearing across his chin. He would drown in you if you could, and he would die a happy, well fed man.

"Fuck, Coop."

Coop.

The only person in the world he allowed to call him that anymore, the only person left alive who knew of who he was, what his mission was, what journey he had found himself on.

In you, he had found a companion, a confidant. He trusted you with his life.

Oh, if only he knew the secret you were harboring, the guilt that sometimes became so unbearable you felt as though you were suffocating. If he did, he probably wouldn't be doing this.

"C'mon girl, soak my face." He rubbed his face deeper between your thighs, lips sucking on your clit like a mad man.

You grinded yourself against him, head thrown back in pure euphoria. "Right there, right there, right there." You chanted his name like a song, a promise, a prayer. In this moment he was everything to you. You were both wrapped up in the same red spool of fate, and it had bound you together like tar and feather.

When your orgasm finally washed through you, he shoved his tongue deep within you, lapping up every drip of your cum. He moaned in to you, his fingers digging deeper into the cheeks of your ass as he brought you down further on to him, so tight he could hardly breathe.

"Fuckin'-" The rest of his words were muffled into your cunt, and you shakily pushed his head away, letting out a huff of air.

"Jesus." You fell down beside him, staring up at the sky once more. His hand fell to your thigh, his rippled flesh dragging up and down your soft, supple skin. It was an unorthodox dichotomy, but one you welcomed

He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, pulling you closer when he saw you shiver.

"You're the only person out here I give a flyin' fuck about." He confessed quietly, deeply, his voice barely audible.

"I know." You muttered, your cheek pressing into his own. He held you close, his touch warm and welcoming, foreign and new. Your own fingers traced shapes down his clothed chest.

It was an odd sort of intimacy that you had never expected from him, and in that moment you realized that beneath this monster, there was still a man. A man who was touch starved, a man who used to be a little boy who played outside on tire swings and kissed his mamma, a man who had a family, a man who had morals and dreams and laughed at dinner parties and smoked cigars. The Ghoul wasn't a ghoul at all.... he was still a man. He had always been a man.

It was a realization that had just overtaken you, a realization you had never pondered before.

You looked up at him, your hand resting on his scarred cheek. He placed his palm over your knuckles, and you stared at one another, an unusual feeling lingering in the air.

"Wanna fuck?" He finally spoke, and your stomach tensed at his words.

"Please." You breathed out, eyes fluttering shut.

It was the fourth time you had met him.

It had been sixty years since the bombs had dropped. Or had it been Eighty? Perhaps even one hundred?

As you walked, your head spun. You weren't too sure how long you were asleep this time, everything felt different.

Once Bud, in his stupid little brain jar, had caught whiff that you had met the Cooper Howard, now turned in to a radioactive ghoul, he had changed your mission.

"Now, new order of business. He's your main priority. Find him, bring him to us. He'll be a valuable asset in divulging the secrets of the surface." You remember the cheerful voice beckoning you forth on your quest. You remember how constricted your chest felt when you got the news, how horrified you were.

It felt like a curse, like a demotion.

You had already been lying to the Ghoul about not knowing Barb. Now you had to hunt him? Abduct him?

Ha! As if you ever could. Cooper was always three steps ahead of everyone else. He was cool, collected, and could sweet talk (or shoot) his way out of any situation. You had watched him blow people’s limbs off, kill gangs of raiders, take down monsters- you had watched this man destroy, maim, kill.

Compared to him, you paled in comparison. He was a formidable foe, and a respected ally.

You knew you couldn’t follow through with the mission.

So you didn’t. And you didn't for sixty more years.

When you met the Ghoul this time, he was skinning some animal, plucking his teeth with a piece of bone. Every so often he would pinch something out of the carcass, tossing it in his mouth and swallowing.

"Is this what you do now? Eat animals raw?" You asked, walking towards him. You felt queasy at the scene, the plight of surface dwellers unknown to your very different, very sterile lifestyle.

"I knew you'd be showin' up soon." The Ghoul drawled out slowly, almost sweetly, eyeing you with a glimmer in his eye.

"Oh yeah?" You purred, your boots clicking against the hard ground.

"Could smell ya."

"What do I smell like?"

He sucked in a rush of air through his teeth, looking up from behind the brim of his hat with dark, distant eyes. "Sugar."

You smiled, stopping in front of him. "Is that so?"

"Mhm." Cooper dragged his tongue across his teeth as he looked up at you, a hungry tint coloring his eyes. He looked as though he wanted to devour you. A dribble of blood trickled down beside the corner of his lip, and you watched him scoop it up, pressing it to his tongue.

He shot you a wink, beckoning you forward with a finger, his gaze steadfast and unwavering.

The look he gave you was engrained into your mind as you parted ways, and while you slumbered in your metallic grave, the Ghoul visited your dreams, over and over, until you woke up ten years later with the sweet taste of his words on your tongue, and the sound of his voice ringing in your ears.

It was eighty years since the first bombs had dropped, and your naked back was pressed against the dirt, hair tangled around the rocks and twigs that were scattered about. You had a fistful of mud from grasping at nothing, pleasure coursing through your body like alcohol at a party.

A drop of sweat was forming beside his brow, the languid sound of flesh on flesh filling the air. It trickled down his cheek, landing on your own.

"Fuckin' shit." His teeth bit down into your shoulder, fingertips digging into your thighs as he held you tight against him. "Can't believe we waited this long."

"Jesus Christ, Coop." You gasped, back arching off the ground. "Right there."

His cock, thick and long and perfect, was buried deep within you, your pussy tightening around his shaft with every thrust he made.

Coop pressed his forehead against your, his tongue pressing against your lips. You parted them, allowing access to your mouth. He happily obliged, his tongue mingling with your spit. He growled like an animal, pulling away to grab your face in his hands.

"Open." He snarled, lip raising as he watched you intently.

"Yes sir." You happily obeyed, your lips parting. You watched him purse his lips, a string of spit falling onto your tongue.

"Good girl. Good girl." He purred, holding up your thighs as he fucked himself in to you.

"For you." You whined, palms dragging down his chest.

"Yeah, that's right, darlin'. Just for me." The Ghoul was snarling through gritted teeth, his fingers imprinting deeply into your skin, nails nearly breaking skin.

Always for him. Of course it was. Of course you were.

It was the reason why you couldn't betray him to Bud. It was the reason why you couldn't shoot him, drag him down to the vault.

It was the reason why you had sought after him each time you left your pod. It was the reason why you crossed the wasteland just for the chance to see him.

Because you loved him.

The night air was cold on your naked body, and your arms wrapped around your torso did little to ease the nipping pain.

The sky wasn't as starry as usual, a dark, barren canopy hanging above your head. The fire in front of you was dying, and the moon looked more gray than silver.

You knew what you must do. You knew what was required of you, a mission of your own.

It had been two years since you were kicked out of the vault. Two years since you felt as though your world was ending.

Now tonight might be the night it actually did.

You heard the clack of his boots against the ground, the heavy sigh that heaved off of him with each step he took. His hand brushed against your shoulder as he walked towards the fire, collapsing tot he ground in front of you.

"What a fuckin' day." The Ghoul groaned, tossing a skinned rabbit onto the dying flames. He dug through his bag and lit a match, tossing it onto the embers. A new flame sparked to life, illuminating his face with colors of peach and umber.

With a little nod you returned to your thoughts, blinking slowly.

"Clothes still dryin'?"

"Yeah. Takes forever."

"Tellin' me. Remember that time those dogs tried attackin' us, and we were both butt fuck naked?" He pondered the memory with a snigger, and you couldn't help but laugh, your stomach tumbling as your guilt grew heavier and heavier, twisting and gnawing at your intestines.

He dug through his pack, grabbing a spare vial and inhaling it deeply. "Want a hit?"

You blinked, considering it for a moment.

"I'm okay."

"That's alright, darlin'." He shot you a wink, tossing the empty contained behind his shoulder. "So," Cooper began, stretching out, "what've you been up to since I've been gone?"

"Oh, little bit of this, little bit of that."

"Sounds excitin'." His eyes were narrowed, and you knew he could smell that there was something off about you.

Your tongue dragged across your lower lip, and you took in a deep breath. "Coop, I gotta tell you somethin'."

He looked up from where he was picking his nails, clearing his throat with a furrowed brow. "Okay..."

"I- before all of this.... I-I knew your wife."

Cooper scoffed. "Uh, yeah. I put those two pieces together myself, darlin'."

"Oh."

"Pretty self explanatory. Vaultie appears and disappears, says she's on Vault-Tec business. Come on now, don't take me for a fool."

"I-... alright."

"Anythin' else, sugar?"

"Yes."

"What are you goin' to tell me this time that I supposedly don't know?" He laughed at his own joke, his eyes lit with the flames of the fire, burning a soul straight through you.

"I-" You couldn't stop the tears from welling in your eyes.

In one moment, a hundred years of guilt came crashing down, racking through your body and rocking your soul like plane turbulence. You gasped out quietly, and Cooper quickly rushed to your side.

"Breathe in, come on now." He patted your back gingerly, and your eyes widened in panic.

"Don't touch me! Please. You- after this... oh, God."

With an inquisitive look he pulled away, his palm barely lingering over your shoulder. You watched his jaw clench, lip pulling up with the hint of a scowl.

You turned to him, ripping the band-aid off. "I know where your family is."

His features fell, lips parting. For the first time in a long time, the Ghoul was unable to speak. Nothing came to mind as his brain short circuited with this information, his face soon wrinkling up with the realization that you had betrayed him.

"You-..." Cooper stumbled to his feet and you did the same, eyeing the gun that laid on the ground. He followed your gaze, spitting in your direction. "You fuckin' lyin' bitch. For how long?" He demanded, walking towards you.

"Don't make me-"

Cooper grabbed your shoulders, his nails digging into your bones. "For. How. Long?"

You closed your eyes, composing yourself best you could before you looked up at him. "One hundred years."

He tackled you to the ground, hands going straight for your neck as he cried out in pure rage. You kneed him against the stomach in defense, earning a gruff oof from the man.

"Tell me why I shouldn't fuckin' kill you right now!" He snarled through bared teeth, eyes nearly red and ears nearly steaming. You had never seen a man look so angry before, you had never seen him look like this... especially towards you.

"Because I love you! I love you, Cooper. Let go!" You choked out, thrashing beneath him.

"You love me?"

"Yes, you fucking baboon. Now get off of me!" You bundled your hand into a fist, landing it right into his jaw.

Cooper coughed, blood pooling at his mouth, and quickly hopped off of you. He stood, staring at you, watching the shadows of the evening dance across your bare body. There was once a time he would have thought the scene in front of him was delicious, there was once a time he would have pounced on you, taken you right on the ground, made you moan his name and orgasm all night long.

That was no more, and it would never be again.

"Tell me where they are." His voice was low, like a warning growl from a wolf.

"Vault thirty-one."

He gritted his teeth together, spitting a puddle of blood out onto the ground.

"I love you. Loved." He corrected himself quickly, eyeing you down, sizing you up. "That's why I won't kill you."

"Oh. Oh... thank you. I really didn't want it to come to that."

"Yeah, me neither." His voice was flat, defeated. Part of you wished he would kill you.

You watched him walk towards his backpack, slinging it across his shoulder. Cooper pointed towards you, eyes narrowing. "But mark my fuckin' words, girl- if I ever see you again, I will kill you."

"Wait-"

"No." He held out his palm, grabbing his shotgun. "No more. No."

"I didn't want to keep it from you-"

"But you did, didn't you?"

And it was true. He was right. There was nothing you could do, no word you could speak, action you could partake in, that would make any of this better.

You watched Cooper walk away, the end of his coat swaying in the wind with each step he took. When you looked back up at the sky, you could have sworn you saw his eyes written throughout the stars, and you knew those eyes would haunt you, until the day you died.

And so you sat before the fire, watching the carcass of whatever he had hunted sizzling to a burnt ember, watching the last remnants of his presence in your life fade away, little by little, until it was nothing but dust.

You must have stayed in that spot for weeks. Ruminating, thinking, dreaming.

The sound of boots clicking behind you finally snapped you back in to reality.

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul smut

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staefire · 1 year ago

Note

Could I possibly ask for a second part to What Happens Tonight, where maybe he gets a little more vulnerable with the reader and we see some of those walls being broken down? (But not fully, I still LOVE the angst of him not wanting to give himself fully to someone and how the reader struggles with it)

What Happens Tonight pt 2

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Ex-Vaultie!Reader (fem)

Summary: After the events during the radstorm, you confront the Ghoul about his true feelings.

Warnings: smut (18+), riding, a lot of grinding, fingering, the gloves stay ON, feeding Rad-X, mutual pining, emotionally stunted Cooper, slight soft!dom Cooper, miscommunication, angst.

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: Thank you for all the love received on WHT part one, and thank you anon for specifically requesting a part two. I had a lot of fun with this one and delved more into the smut but still tried to make sure Cooper kept his boundaries. I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

👉 Read part one HERE 👈

It had been several weeks since you sought refuge in the vault, a period marked by the moment you surrendered yourself entirely to Cooper. The memory of that night left a persistent ache between your thighs, serving as a constant reminder of the intimacy you shared and the emptiness you now felt. Despite this, Cooper had not addressed the matter with you since then. Whenever you attempted to discuss what had come to be known as "the night of the radstorm," he would abruptly turn away, his body rigid and his gaze averted. The tension between you grew with each passing day, the unspoken words creating a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge.

By the time you both composed yourselves the next morning, the sinister weather had come and gone. While the storm had left a physical mess outside, the emotional turmoil between you had created an even greater one. An awkwardness had settled over your relationship, forming an invisible barrier that hadn't existed before. You longed for this tension to vanish as the storm had, but it persisted, clinging to your interactions like a second skin. This discomfort coloured every conversation, every glance, leaving you both trapped in a web of unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

You supposed this was the consequence of crossing that boundary, daring to entertain the notion that you and the Ghoul could be more than mere traveling companions. Your relationship had always been one of convenience, a mutual arrangement for survival. But that night had altered everything—at least for you.

Constantly, you replayed the moments in your mind: the intimacy you shared in that confined space, the way his hands moved over your body with a mix of urgency and reverence. You wondered if you had misread the signals, if the heat of the moment had clouded your judgment. The way he touched you, the way he held you—it all felt so real, so genuine. Yet now, it seemed like a fleeting dream, dissipating in the harsh light of reality. Each touch, each whisper of that night lingered in your thoughts, making you question the line between reality and illusion, and leaving you to ponder whether the connection you felt was ever truly mutual.

But weren't you the one who assured him it would mean nothing? And yet, here you were, longing for him every night as you lay on your bedroll, the void he left behind more palpable than his presence ever was. You couldn't help but feel the emptiness, the way his absence seemed to echo within you.

You found yourself watching him when he wasn't looking, searching for any sign that he felt the same way, that he missed you too. But he remained closed off, his walls higher than ever. Each glance in his direction was met with an unyielding façade, leaving you to wonder if he had already moved on or if he, too, was silently grappling with the same confusion and longing that plagued your thoughts.

You tried to focus on the tasks at hand, to distract yourself with the daily challenges of survival. Yet, every silence between you, every avoided glance, only deepened the chasm that had formed. The tension was a constant reminder of what had changed, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

You found yourself wishing for another storm, another night where you could both let down your guards and be vulnerable with each other again. But you knew better than to rely on such whims. Reality rarely afforded such convenient opportunities. You had to face the growing divide head-on, even if it meant confronting the possibility that the connection you craved might never be rekindled.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast long shadows across the wasteland, you found yourself alone with Cooper once more. The silence between you was heavy, almost suffocating, and you knew that you couldn't go on like this. You needed to address the elephant in the room, to find some way to mend the rift that had formed.

"Cooper," you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. "We need to talk about what happened that night."

He stiffened at your words, his eyes flickering briefly to yours before he looked away. "There's nothing to talk about," he replied, his tone clipped and guarded.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. "You know that's not true," you countered, looking down at him from where you stood. The warm glow from the crackling fire highlighted his features as he leaned back against the wall from his position on his bedroll.

Cooper's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions, but he remained silent, staring into the flames as if searching for answers. You stepped closer, the soft crunch of your boots on the gritty floor the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

"That night," you continued, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest, "I said whatever happened wouldn't matter but... I was wrong. It meant something, and I need to know what it meant to you."

He sighed deeply, running a hand over his bald head before meeting your gaze. "You talk too much," he said in a biting tone, eyes downcast as he kicked his boot out in frustration.

"And you don't talk enough," you said defiantly, lightly kicking at his boot when he still refused to meet your gaze despite the scoff that escaped his lips. "You can't just ignore me, or pretend it didn't happen. If you regret it... well, I can handle it. I'm a big girl, Cooper."

"We'd be stupid not to regret it," he admitted, his hands occupied with reloading bullets into the bandolier on his lap. "Doesn't mean I didn't like it," he added quietly, almost to himself.

His words left you feeling conflicted. On one hand, you were relieved to hear that he had found pleasure with you, perhaps as much as you did with him. But the admission of regret lingered, casting a shadow over the memory. He wanted you to feel the same remorse, but you couldn't bring yourself to do so.

"I don't regret it," you declared, your voice firm. "I wanted you then, and I still want you now. Whatever it is that's holding you back, that's between you and your own conscience. But here I am, with you, and I want you."

His eyes snapped to you then, dark and swirling with emotion as he glared up at you. "Have you been taking those pills?"

You looked at him, confused, searching your memory for what he meant until the Rad-X pills surfaced in your mind. You remembered taking one that night after he'd left them on the bed, then discarding them into the recesses of your bag and not thinking about them since.

"What do the pills have to do with anything?" you asked, still bewildered.

Cooper's jaw clenched, frustration etched across his features as he averted his gaze once more. "Supposed to take 'em before exposure," he muttered, "but you were going wild, locking those thighs 'round me so damn hard. I might not seem like it, sweetheart, but I'm just a man," he added, his voice carrying both irritation and a hint of amusement.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, recalling the intensity of the moment when you ground down on his cock as he attempted to pry you off him, moments before he relented and filled you with his hot load.

"If you've been taking them regularly," he continued, meeting your eyes with a meaningful glance, "you'd likely have developed a fair resistance by now."

Accepting the Rad-X felt like a symbolic gesture, a token of protection offered in the aftermath of that intimate moment, meant to erase any lingering traces of radiation from him. You appreciated his small attempt at aftercare, yet couldn't shake the feeling that it was tinged with regret for his own actions. Now, as he sat before you, finally meeting your gaze after what felt like an eternity, a realization dawned upon you: his offering wasn't just a momentary solution, but a precaution for the future. It hinted at a desire for something more.

Your heart swelled with the realization, a mixture of relief and hope before reality dawned on you. "I haven't been taking them," you admitted, your voice soft but steady. "I didn't know that you wanted me to."

He rolled his eyes at the whine that cracked your voice, discarded his bandolier on the ground beside him before lifting his hand towards you with a curled finger in a beckoning gesture. Almost instinctively, you found yourself drawn towards him until you were standing above him, your legs positioned on either side of his as he gazed up at you. His gloved hands traced up the sides of your legs, pausing at your hips before firmly grasping them and tugging you down to your knees, so that you straddled him. A gasp escaped you, a blend of surprise and anticipation echoing in the air.

"Don't get it, do you?" he murmured, his voice a rough whisper against your ear as he pulled you closer. "I wanted to get you ready for me."

You shivered at his words, the intensity of his gaze boring into yours as you leant back to look at him. "Cooper, I—"

"Shh," he interrupted, his hands tightening on your hips, grounding you. "You're still talking too much."

His lips captured yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue pushing for dominance over yours as he held you tight against him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders for balance, feeling the rough fabric of his coat beneath your fingertips as he dragged your clothed cunt against the growing erection straining his dirty pinstripe pants. The friction sent sparks of pleasure through your body, your hips moving instinctively to grind against him, seeking more.

Cooper's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he guided your movements, his kiss growing more demanding. You moaned into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his insistent lips. Every drag of your body against his made you wetter, your desire pooling between your thighs and soaking through the fabric of your underwear.

With a swift motion, he tugged your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before leaning in to capture one of your nipples between his teeth through the thin fabric of your bra. You gasped, your back arching as his hands worked to unclasp the garment and free your breasts. The cool air hit your skin briefly before his mouth was on you again, sucking and nipping at your sensitive flesh.

Your hands fumbled with the lapels of his coat, desperate to feel more of him, to erase the barriers between your bodies. He helped you, shrugging out of the heavy garment and discarding it with a careless flick of his wrist. You were pleasantly surprised when he let you undo the buttons of his waistcoat, shrugging it off before he stopped your fingers at their decent on his shirt.

"It stays on," he told you gruffly, a hint of vulnerability in his voice that urged you to accept his decision without a second thought. You nodded, your hands running over the fabric of his shirt and across his chest, down his abdomen, feeling the hard muscle beneath the material, the scars that told stories of his past. He groaned at your touch, his hips grinding up against you as his hands slid down to the waistband of your pants, deftly undoing the button and zipper.

"Lift up," he commanded, and you complied, rising just enough for him to peel the garment down your legs, your underwear following shortly after. You were completely exposed to him now, the cool air of the room making you shiver as he gazed at you with a hunger that made your pulse race.

"What a sight," he said, his voice rough with need as he pulled you back down onto his lap, your bare cunt pressing against his clothed erection

You whimpered, the heat of him so close yet so far driving you crazy. "Please, Cooper," you whispered, rocking your hips against him. "I need you."

"I know," he replied with a wicked grin, his hands gripping your ass and guiding your movements, the friction of his pants against your clit making you see stars. "Been needing you for a long time now. Long before that night."

You nibbled on your lip, the waves of pleasure cresting within you almost overwhelming as you surrendered to the sensation of him beneath you. "What kept you so long?" you gasped, your hand instinctively caressing the nape of his neck, your thumb tracing the contours of the thick muscles there.

He chuckled, leaning into your touch, his gaze lingering thoughtfully on your face. "Just honing my patience," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You huffed in exasperation at his calm demeanour, your hands moving to undo the buckle of his belt and the buttons of his pants. As you attempted to reach for him, your hand was swatted away, and you tried again, only to be met with the same resistance. "Hey, cut it out," you scolded him, a mix of frustration and desire evident in your tone.

"You'll get it, don't you doubt," he teased, his voice low and playful. With a swift movement, one gloved hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding their way into your wet heat. A gasp escaped your lips as he penetrated you, his touch igniting a fire within you. Another finger joined the first, and he expertly curled them upwards, hitting that sweet spot inside you that had you burying your face in the crook of his neck with a muffled cry. "Oh, there she is," he declared proudly, a smirk evident in his voice.

You mewled softly against his salty skin, your lips pressing eagerly against the muscle as he slid his leather-clad fingers in and out of you with a delicious rhythm. Each movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, and you couldn't help but rock your hips into his palm, seeking out the friction that made your nerves sing.

You trailed hot kisses along the skin of his neck, feeling his pulse quicken beneath your lips, and then, unable to resist, you bared your teeth and bit down gently. His response was immediate—a deep, guttural groan—as he grabbed at your ass with his free hand, urging you on, encouraging you to ride his fingers with abandon.

Your mind swirled with the sensations of being wrapped around him once more, your movements growing increasingly erratic as you chased the elusive peak of pleasure. He smiled against your bare shoulder, his hand releasing it's hold on your behind to fumble inside your bag that rested beside him as he anticipated your impending climax.

Seconds later, he pushed you back slightly, holding a small brown bottle in his hand. You whined in protest as his fingers slowed to a taunting pace inside you, desperate to regain the momentum you had lost. Your hips bucked instinctively, urging him to quicken the pace once more.

He tapped your cheek lightly with two fingers from the hand that held the bottle, meeting your gaze with a serious expression. "One more move like that, and I'll take them out," he warned, his tone firm but tinged with amusement.

You frowned at the threat but nodded in compliance. Your eyes followed his movements as he deftly unscrewed the cap of the bottle with his teeth, retrieving one of the red pills with his fingers before setting the bottle aside. He held the pill out to you, his gaze fixated on your mouth as he spoke. "Let me see it."

You hesitated for a moment, then complied, slowly opening your mouth and extending your tongue for him. He delicately placed the pill on your tongue, prompting you to close your mouth with another tap on your cheek. As you did, he captured your lips in another passionate kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he gently manipulated the pill inside your mouth. Finally, he pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva between your lips as he watched you swallow the pill with a satisfied smile.

Your body vibrated at the intimacy, eyes blown as you felt his thick thumb begin to circle your clit, his earlier ministrations continuing as he fucked you hard with his fingers, bouncing you on the palm of his hand. His free hand slid back over the curve of your ass, squeezing firmly as he intensified his movements.

"C-Cooper, please," you began, your voice trembling with need as the heat between your legs intensified, the sound of your wetness filling the quiet room. You dug your nails into his shoulders, anchoring yourself in the overwhelming sensation as he pressed his thumb against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Almost," he murmured, pushing against the spongy spot inside you that had you hurtling towards the edge. Your eyes rolled back as you gushed into his palm, hot liquid streaming down your thighs as you screamed his name. He smirked, his fingers never ceasing their relentless pace as he stroked you through your orgasm. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he rocked you against him, grounding you in the midst of your intense pleasure. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "That's it, let it all out."

When the last surge of your climax had left your body, you slumped against his chest, head nestled in the crook of his neck as you caught your breath. You kissed his neck, running your lips up his strong jaw until you met his cracked lips. He hummed into you, grabbing your wrist tightly when you began to trail it down to the bulge in his pants.

"Easy there," he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. His grip on your wrist was firm, almost possessive, and he held you close. "What's the hurry, sweetheart?"

You regarded him with incredulity, your gaze searching his eyes for any sign of understanding as you boldly voiced your desire. "I took the pill," you stated firmly, your words weighted with intent. "I want you to fuck me."

He chuckled, his gaze briefly dropping before meeting yours once more. "Oh, I know you do," he said, withdrawing his fingers from your sopping core. A whimper escaped your lips as your walls clenched around nothing, longing for the sensation he had just provided. He brought his glistening gloved fingers to his lips, licking at them with a low groan of approval. Then, he pressed the tips of his digits against your parted lips, hooking them inside your lower teeth while holding his thumb beneath your chin.

"Let this be your lesson to take the fuckin' pills," he admonished, his voice carrying a mixture of gratification and warning.

His hands fell away, and you frowned at the sudden absence of his touch. He placed the previously discarded pill bottle in your palm, closing your fingers around it gently before guiding you off his lap and onto your bedroll beside him with a soft thud. Stretching his arms above him, he folded them behind his head, settling further back against the wall as he gazed out at the crackling fire.

"Until then," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of resignation, "we'll both be practicing a little patience."

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard smut #the EDGING aaaazzAAMMH

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