Cooper Howard X Reader - Blog Posts

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul)

All Kinds Of Wrong (Female Reader)(TW: Cooper is sadistic obviously, Knifeplay, but no blood)

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Cooper needs a woman to trade for his drugs. He finds you, in the wrong place at the wrong time. You both get caught in the muffle of a radiation storm in a sheltered basement. Conversation ensues, and Cooper takes an interest in you.

Word Count: 9,067 (Full fic!) (Tap here for early access to all my works.)

This bar.. it was your favorite place to visit. It was really your only respite from the harshness of the outside world. Even though the broken and rotten pieces of wood still exposed the cruel world outside, the holes in the building and the smell of the moist wood became an afterthought when you came here. Even if it was just for a few moments, it was keeping you sane. You didn’t have much, no. Most like everyone else. However, you managed to find yourself in a decent enough position to have a few spare caps at the end of every week to enjoy a drink or two. These little moments kept you going, and it wasn’t worth saving the caps for anything else, in your eyes.

You stepped inside, pushing the tattered and dusty cloth in the doorway out of your way. The male bartender gave you a little nod, becoming used to your usual weekend visits. Despite that, you still didn’t even have a clue what his name was. He was a larger man, somewhat muscular with a beer belly. You’d seen him.. Sampling his own stock many times in your visits. He always reeked of alcohol, making you pretty sure that he was a drunk himself.

Oh well, to each their own.

The wooden floor creaked as you walked on it, headed toward your favorite table in the corner. You were never bothered back here, so you’ve taken it upon yourself to claim it as your spot.

“Usual?” The bartender hollered toward you, halfway cleaning a glass with an already dirtied rag.

Well.. you didn’t say the place was perfect. But really.. Was any place out there perfect in a post war wasteland?

“Yep, usual.” You responded, taking your seat. It was just a metal chair next to a small round table, big enough for only one. There were a few other patrons in the bar, but everyone mostly always kept to themselves in this place. Each person had their own worries and woes and had no desire to try to carry on a conversation. Which suited you perfectly fine.

The bartender approached you, the reek of alcohol and sweat filling your nose. He sat the drink down on your table, motioning for you to pay him.

“Caps, little lady.” He breathed in and out heavily as he remained planted there, waiting for you. You sighed, pulling the correct amount from your pocket and placing them in his hand.

“You know I’m good for it by now.” You remind him, sliding the glass toward yourself.

“Bah, my business, my rules.” He gruffed, turning around to walk back to the bar. He wasn’t a mean guy by any means, he was just blunt. A lot of people might not have appreciated the way he spoke, but you appreciated his honesty. Conversations with him were always brief, which suited your fancy perfectly.

You looked into the glass, peering down at the liquid inside. This truly was the one thing you got to enjoy. You were going to sit here, and enjoy it for as long as you could tonight.

As you drank, you heard the noise outside suddenly die down. All the voices and chatter in the small town suddenly grew quiet. Even the bartender noticed, glancing in your direction with his brow furrowed. He slowly pulled out his hidden shotgun from beneath the bar, sliding it onto the counter. The other patrons of the bar also gave each other glances, placing their hands on their guns resting on their hips. You did the same, holding the grip of your small pistol at your side. There was tension that arose from every single person, without a single word being spoken.

You heard footsteps approaching the bar, crunching on the dirt. The cloth flap at the doorway moved, and a figure stepped inside. He was a ghoul. His skin was hardened and almost shiny from his transformation. He had no nose left, but his ears were still somewhat normal. He wore a dark brown cowboy hat, as well as a tattered brown coat. Strips of fabric were all that was left toward the bottom, covered in the dust of the dry wasteland. The coat and pants led into a pair of dark brown boots of the same color. The ghoul chuckled as he saw all of the patrons of the bar at the ready to shoot.

“Now, y’all know them little guns ain’t gonna do shit.” He said coldly. “Ain’t here to shoot anybody unless you’re askin’ for it.”

He shrugged his shoulders. It was a subtle threat, but one that caused almost everyone to remove their hands from their guns. You followed them, doing the same. Even the bartender slowly placed his shotgun back behind the counter. His aura was extremely intimidating, making every single person in the bar feel uneasy and on edge.

He seemed.. Familiar to you. Not in face, but in reputation alone. You feel like you’ve heard rumors of him before. The Ghoul. The relentless bounty hunter. You’d never heard his real name, and you’d never seen him in person until now. Death followed him everywhere he went.. You just hoped you weren’t going to be the next one. Nobody had that much of a grudge against you to pay the caps to hire the ghoul to hunt you down either, that you were are of. You mostly kept to yourself, as everyone in this town did.

The air in the place felt heavy. Everything felt tense as the Ghoul approached the bar, placing his hands on the counter as he leaned against it casually. He eyed the bartender up and down before speaking.

“Lookin’ for a girl.” He said, squinting his eyes. “Name’s Suzie.” Everyone in the bar turns even more grim, including you. Somehow, the silence grew even more quiet as her name was mentioned. The bartender tilts his head just slightly, a bead of sweat falling from his hairline.

“You sure that’s who you’re lookin’ for?” The bartender asks the Ghoul. He huffs in response, a smirk on his face.

“Pretty sure, considerin’ I said her fuckin’ name.” The Ghoul remarks in a sarcastic tone. “Where is she?” He asks. The bartender looks around the room before responding.

“Dead, in the ground.” He shrugs his shoulders. The Ghoul’s face grew angry, expecting that the bartender was lying through his teeth to protect her.

“Really now? No need to protect the girl. Ain’t no reason to.” He narrows his gaze toward another person in the bar. A middle aged man covered in grease stains, wearing overalls and a pair of glasses. The middle aged man takes a moment, clearing his throat before responding.

“She is dead. Was torn apart by a pack of ferals.” The patron tells him. “Buried what was left of her right behind the bar, if you don’t believe me.” The Ghoul clicks his tongue in his mouth, looking around at the others in the bar. As if he were searching for the truth, or the lie. The middle aged man spoke up again. “Had blonde hair, still there if you wanna dig deep enough.” Nobody made any effort to stop him from doing it either. Because it was true. None of you were protecting her, she was truly dead. You had seen them digging the grave for her just a few days prior. The dirt would still be fresh. You didn’t know her at all and had only seen her in passing. It did cause you to feel sadness and grief for the girl, but unfortunately, that kind of thing was just common in the world and most people no longer batted an eye to it.

That seemed to be enough to satisfy the Ghoul.

“Well, ain’t this a dilemma..” The Ghoul tells everyone in the bar. He briefly locks eyes with you, looking you up and down before continuing. “I need somebody. So, who’s gonna be the lucky winner?” He asks. He pulls out his gun, casually slinging it around in different directions. “Need a lady. So, who’s it gonna be?” There were only two women in the bar. An older woman on the opposite side of the room.. And you.

The Ghoul looks toward the older woman, but his gaze then goes to you. He looks in your direction, grinning. His teeth were yellowed. “Looks like you’re the only one in here that’ll work, missy.” Panic sets in as he begins to approach you. Your heart began pounding like it was trying to escape from your own chest. You try to back up in your chair, but it was already pressed against the wall as far as it could go.

Not to mention.. Trying to slide a metal chair over cheap, rotten wood was doomed to fail from the start.

“What? Why me!?” You asked him, looking around to the other patrons. None of them tried to help. None of them tried to stop the Ghoul. Each and every one of them just watched the scene unfold. The logical part of your brain knew why. The Ghoul could not be defeated by them, even if they tried. They’d all lose their own lives. However, that didn’t make your anger and fury die down toward them in the moment. Not even a little bit.

The bad thing about living in a town where everyone kept to themselves, is that you had no friends. Not one.

“Just said. I need a fuckin’ lady. Now, get up.” He doesn’t give you any kind of chance or opportunity to respond. He takes a rope from his hip, wrapping it around your wrists. Instinctively, you try to wiggle away as you grunt in frustration. He then places his hand on your throat without any warning, gripping it tightly. Hard enough to completely prevent you from breathing. He squeezed the veins on each side of your neck, and cut off your airway in the center. You freeze up, your eyes growing wide. “Don’t do it, sweetheart. You really do not want to piss me off.” The threat made your blood run cold. He then released your throat, causing you to cough as you tried to catch your breath. He continued to wrap his rope around you, moving from your wrists to your arms. He tied them to your torso, leaving you unable to move anything but your head and legs. The rope led out from your back, leaving him with a way to keep a hold of you. You couldn’t run, even if you tried. His strength was immeasurable compared to a normal human, and he would simply hold that rope.. And jerk you back toward him if you try anything.

“Fuck..” You groaned as he took the pistol from your hip and threw it to the wooden floor. He grinned as he held the line of rope that led to your back, leading you along with him. You were pulled outside by him, exiting the bar. Everyone in the small town stopped to look, but made no effort to try to stop him. You still understood why, but you were still filled with pure rage. All the time you’ve been here, and nobody was even going to attempt to get you out of this situation. You thought you appreciated everyone in this town keeping to themselves, but now you realized that it only hurt you in the end. You had no one.

Everyone in the wasteland was always out for themselves.

You both continued walking through the town. You could see people closing their windows, locking their cheap metal doors, trying to avoid the situation and not get involved. Trying to avoid the Ghoul. Once you both reached the edge of town, the Ghoul then stopped. You stopped as soon as he did, fear settling in once again as your mind raced with every possible scenario and outcome of this situation.

“Walk in front of me so I can keep an eye on you. No funny business. Understand?” He demands, casually swaying his gun around in his hand as he speaks. You nod in reluctant understanding.

“Which way?” You whispered.

“Just go.” He says. You begin walking forward into the darkening evening light. You’d never felt so vulnerable before. You were tied up, left with no weapon or any kind of protection. No stimpaks, radaway or rad-x. It was also getting dark out, and soon you wouldn’t be able to see a damn thing.

You were fucked.

“Why are you doing this?” You speak up to ask after what felt like an eternity of silence, the only sound nearby being your feet crunching into the dirt beneath you.

“Don’t think you need to know that, sweetheart.” He tells you, beginning to walk a bit closer behind you. “Keep on walkin’.” He says, nudging the gun into your back. You continue walking, not wanting to irritate him.

“Oh okay. I’ll just keep marching to my impending doom then.” You remarked in a sarcastic tone.

“Sounds like the only option you got from where I’m standin’.” The Ghoul stated in return. You rolled your eyes, continuing on your path forward until you both reached another town. You lost track of how much time had passed at this point, but it was now dark out. The night had settled in over the desert.

It was a desolate little town that you began walking through, not even any ferals or animals within it. It was eerily quiet. You felt the Ghoul pause behind you, stopping dead in his tracks.. “Wait.” He stated. You stopped and listened, hearing distant thunder. You could see it off in the distance as you looked across the horizon. Lightning and green clouds. The sky around you began to fill with a green haze, quickly warning you of the impending storm.

It was a brewing radiation storm.

You could hear the Ghoul behind you growling at the sight of it. “Rads are nice ‘n all for me, but I can’t have them makin’ you puke all over the place. Can’t have you passin’ out on me. Or ruinin’ that smooth skin of yours.” He looked around the area before nudging the gun against your back again. “Turn right.”

You began walking to the right, through the sea of empty and decrepit houses. Eventually, you come to the back of one of those houses. On the ground was a set of black heavy metal doors. The Ghoul held onto the rope tightly as he went to the doors, opening them with ease. It was pitch black, and you couldn’t see anything inside. You could smell the rain, feel the heat and heaviness in the air, signaling that the storm was getting closer.

“Come on.” He pulls your rope, clicking his tongue at you like you were a farm animal that he was wrangling back into a barn. He almost caused you to trip up on your own feet as he jerked the rope. Straightening yourself back up, you attempted to step inside the shelter. You carefully felt each step down with your feet, trying your best not to fall. The Ghoul then halted you by the rope, reaching back to close the heavy doors. You can no longer see anything at all. You could hear him chuckle a bit. “Too bad, sweetheart. I can see just fine.” He mocks you. You could hear his footsteps walking down the steps. You tried to keep up with him, feeling each step with your feet blindly as you stumbled through the darkness.

As you both reached the bottom and the floor went flat, you paused. You could see his face brighten up as he lit up a match. A small lantern sat on a barrel inside of the room. As he lit it, the room came into your vision just enough for you to make it all out. It was a small, concrete and metal fallout shelter. There were cans of food inside on the shelves, as well as some purified water. There were several sleeping bags strewn about the floor as well. You waited for his direction, still not wanting to piss him off.

“Might as well lay on down.” He tells you, shrugging his shoulders. He then began tying your rope to his own belt, to make sure you didn’t even attempt to try and run away from him.

“I’m not gonna run anywhere in the middle of a rad storm.” You told him honestly. He shook his head.

“I trust your word ‘bout as much as you’d prolly trust mine.” He grinned, flashing his yellowed teeth again. Radiation sickness was the fucking worst, and you weren’t willing to risk it with no radaway nearby. Plus.. You weren’t quite sure if you’d be able to get those doors open on your own. Where would you go if you even could? You couldn’t run fast enough to escape the Ghoul.

Nobody could.

The Ghoul sat down on one sleeping bag tucked in one corner of the room, resting his back against the wall. You moved to the one next to him, awkwardly maneuvering to sit down. Your arms were still tied tightly to your body, and your wrists were still bound almost painfully so. The rope had begun to rub your skin raw from the movement and sweat of walking such a distance.

There was a long silence as you both listened to the storm roll in. The thunder cracked hard outside the metal doors, loud enough to vibrate the ground and shelves within the room. It sounded like the worst radiation storm you’d heard in a very long time.

Within that time of silence between the two of you, the Ghoul then began to cough. It started as a little cough here and there in the midst of the quiet between the two of you, before it grew into full blown wheezing and hacking. You noticed him reach into his coat and pull out something that almost looked like an inhaler. He pressed it to his lips, letting the air flood his lungs. He breathed in and out several times, resting his head on the wall behind him and closing his eyes as he let the medicine take effect. After a few moments, his breathing finally returned to normal.

“Surprised you didn’t try and take off.” He said, looking in your direction as he let out a few more small coughs. He flicked the rope that attached you to his belt.

“What would be the point?” You asked. Literally none of the circumstances were in your favor.

“Exactly. Smart ‘lil lady.” He nods. He pulls a knife from a holster at his side, beginning to sharpen it with a small sharpening block. “You’re probably ‘bout the quietest person I’ve ever taken.” He tells you, eyeing his knife. “Makes my job easier.”

“You clearly don’t wanna answer my questions.. Why would I waste my breath?” You remind him, leaning against the wall just as he was. Each sleeping bag was right in the corner of the room, so you were both quite close. The rope prevented you from being too far away from him to begin with.

“I’ll humor ya since you’ve been good.” He says, his eyes not meeting yours as he continued sharpening his knife. He would check the sharpness once in a while before sharpening it once again.

“Why did you take me?” You ask, thinking of no other better question to ask as the first one.

“Gonna take ya somewhere. Same place I was gonna to take the other ‘lil lady. Suzie.” He tells you, examining his handiwork on the knife. “Need somethin’ they can give me and I’m tradin’ ya for it.” He tells you, as if it were a casual and normal thing to do to someone. He said it like it was nothing, but you guessed that to him, it was practically nothing. After all the stories you’d heard about him, this was probably just another day for him.

“What am I even worth to them?” You ask, awkwardly squirming against the uncomfortable ropes. They began to dig into your skin, giving you painful rope burns. The Ghoul then suddenly pointed his knife in your direction, glaring at you.

“If you’d quit fuckin’ wigglin’ around like that, the ropes wouldn’t burn ya so bad.” He reminded you, pulling the knife back toward himself to continue sharpening it.

“Oh, you’re right. How dare I move around as I’m uncomfortably hogtied?” You said sarcastically. He chuckled in response, amused by your remark.

“I’ll really hogtie ya and drag ya there if I have to. Take me longer to get there, but don’t think I won’t.” He reminded you with a smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. You almost even wanted to chuckle at his comment. There was something about the quips you were throwing back and forth to each other that felt.. Charged. Charged with a different kind of energy that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “As for what you’re worth.. It’s quite a bit. Young ‘n still got all your bits. Still got smooth skin. Worth a lot less if you’re already dead when we get there.” He then puts his knife away in the holster at his side. “Anything other questions?”

“What are they gonna do to me?” You ask, causing him to grin and show those yellowed teeth again.

“Got no idea sweetheart.” He said, watching you closely. It was like he had grown a little curious in these few minutes of conversation.

“You seem more than capable. You had my whole town frightened and standing down without doing anything. Why not just threaten these people or break in and take what you need?” You ask him. It wasn’t a question with any kind of smart tone, no. You truly wanted to know why he didn’t just take what he wanted from these people, like he seemed to take anything else he wanted.

“Got no clue how much they make at a time. Don’t know if they just produce it when I ask for it or if they have a stock. I break in, might not have any at all. Then I’d be fucked.” He tells you as he opens up a bit. You heard a loud clap of thunder from outside, feeling the vibration in the ground. The shelves shook lightly, rattling the canned food and water.

“Is what you’re getting from them the same medicine you took earlier?” You ask him.

“Yep.”

“What’s it for?” You ask, growing all the more curious.

“Keeps me from eatin’ you alive.” He admits, grinning at you.

It seemed to make a bit of sense, at least. He traded people for some purpose, for this medicine that kept him from going feral. Part of it made you feel sad. He was doing something completely monstrous, sure. There really was no excuse for that.. But he was doing it for his own survival, as a lot of other people would do in his position. So he didn’t lose his mind and become a mindless, feral creature. It had to be a horrifying transformation to suffer through.

“That’s quite sad.” You finally say after thinking about his words. He pauses and his grin only grows wider.

“I quite enjoy it, ‘lil missy.” He tells you, leaning forward and away from the wall to look at you more closely. “Nothin’ sad about it. Just the law of the land, sweetheart.” He eyes you closely, his eyes moving from your eyes down to your body and back up again. The mood between you two had shifted in an unexpected way. Something was there.

“Why do you call me sweetheart?” You question him.

“‘Cause I fuckin’ want to. Got a problem?” He states, expecting an upset response from you. But you don’t have one.

“No. Not at all.” You admit, offering him a slight smile. He seems surprised, tilting his head and looking you up and down once more.

“Well, well, well.. Ain’t that interesting.” He says, chuckling as he watches you. “Been alive for a long time. Can’t say I’ve ever had anyone bold enough to say somethin’ like that.”

“So you call all the women you kidnap sweetheart?” You ask. Something compelled you to just try and be casual and normal with him, dispute the situation. Maybe it was the sadness you felt for his issues, or maybe you were just doing it in the hopes for your own survival. Maybe it was something else entirely, the shift in energy between the two of you. Maybe.. It was the building tension that neither of you were addressing. But at the moment, he was leaning into it just as much as you were. He half laughs at your comment.

“Force of habit, I reckon. I usually do.” He says.

“Well, I feel less special now.” You fake whine. The radiation storm outside drew in your attention momentarily as the thunder clapped again, causing vibrations you could feel beneath you. Your attention quickly returned to him, and the growing tension and electricity in the room.

“You’re just a victim of the circumstances, in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He tells you. “Ain’t no hard feelings.” He then leans back against the wall, seemingly growing more and more intrigued by you. “Never had anyone carry on a conversation with me either. You must be really brave, or just plain stupid.”

“I figured if I listened, you wouldn’t kill me or just knock me out and drag me. Not sure if that's either brave or stupid.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

“You’d be half right.” He tells you. “I’d take ya either way. But like I said, you’re worth a lot less to me dead. Can’t ding up your smooth, pretty skin either.” He says, his eyes briefly looking you up and down once more. You had no idea what it was about him, but something pulled you to him, like The Brotherhood of Steel to technology that didn’t belong to them.

“Pretty, huh? You sure do know how to charm a lady.” You joke, giving him a smile. He leans a bit closer to you, flashing you a smile.

“Southern charm, I reckon.” He jokes back. Fuck, what the hell was happening right now?

“I would say so.” You agree. He was charming, despite his harsh exterior and terrifying presence.

“You ain’t right.” He tells you, shaking his head. “Ain’t ever met a woman quite like you. You must be half crazy.”

“I would say observant. You remark. “I can see who people really are, or what they used to be beneath their exteriors. You’re just trying to survive.” He huffs, shaking his head.

“I got you tied up, ready to sell you off for drugs, and you ain’t pissed off at me?” He says, shaking his head again. “You really ain’t right in the head.”

“I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same in your position. A lot of people would, even if they wouldn’t admit it.” You say.

“I still can’t figure out if you’re smart, or stupid.” He admits. “Fine, I’ll humor it. What else do ya see in me?” He asks. “Be honest, sweetheart.” You think for a good, long moment. You look deeply into his eyes for a long time before responding.

“You hold a lot of pain within you. You’ve been around for a long time, and you’ve seen and done things that would make most normal people sick. But they’re narrow minded and can’t see that you’re just trying to live another day. You don’t want to turn feral and mindless. You keep moving and pushing for a purpose. There’s a reason you’re still here. You’re hiding all the pain you carry through the confidence and big attitude.. And you’re lonelier than you’d ever admit to anyone.” You say. He pauses for a long time, looking at you and thinking hard on what you said.

“I guess you might be smart, then.” He simply says.

“Are you lonely?” You ask him curiously. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Does it matter? What would you do if I was, sweetheart? Huh?” He asks, almost as if he were challenging you. “Ain’t nobody wants to stick with this ugly mug. And that suits me just fine.”

“I would have.” You admit to him honestly. He looks at you in suspicion. “If you’d have just told me you needed help with something like this, I would have tried to help you. Not everybody in the wasteland is completely selfish.” You remind him.

“You’d be the first I ever met that wasn’t.” He says. It was true that most were selfish, but often there was a good soul here and there. He just hadn’t met one yet. Until you. “And how would you help me, exactly?”

“I don’t know. But I would have tried.” You say, shrugging your shoulders as much as you could despite the ropes.

“Well, ain’t that sweet.” He chuckles. “Ain’t you just a ‘lil doll.” He said the words in a mocking tone, like he still didn’t believe your bullshit.

“I just like helping people.” You say honestly. It was just the truth. You could sympathise with most anyone on their need to survive and how far they’d go to stay alive. It was just natural to you. You always tried to sympathize and be understanding of others and their situations. This kind of living could make you lose sight of others and their needs, but you never seem to lose that sweetness deep within your soul.

“Answer me this, then.” He begins. “What would you say to an old ghoul like me that was lonely?” He asks, curiously.

“I’d say.. I’d keep him company if he wanted. I would help him. I’d talk with him, have meals with him, offer him an ear and a shoulder.” You say honestly. He thinks for a long while on your words, taking in the depth of what you were saying.

“Even though I’m doin’ this to you, you’d still do that?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“Nevermind about the smart thing. You are fuckin’ stupid.” He says, shaking his head. You couldn't help but let out a small smile, almost wanting to laugh. “But, I appreciate the honesty I reckon.”

“I’d offer, well.. Anything that would help.” With him.. You felt like you really meant that. This tension that was building between you two was now beginning to boil over. You had no idea why you were doing this. But something was drawing you to him in a way that you didn’t think either of you could explain. He didn’t seem to expect the connection either himself. So.. He began to poke the bear, so to speak.

“Anything, huh?” He huffs, adjusting himself against the wall. “You think you’re the first woman I’ve taken like this to try that shit with me?”

“Probably not. But you can probably tell when someone really means it or not. You’ve been around a long time.” You remind him. “You knew that all of us in town weren’t lying about Suzie being dead. You could tell. So.. look at me closely. Do you think I mean it?” You ask him. He examines you for a long time before responding, rolling his tongue around in his mouth and pressing it to his cheeks as he thought.

“Lookin’ to me like you do.” He smirks, humoring you. “Prove it, then. Ain’t ever had anybody who could even try. Dumb women who try always shy away when I challenge them ‘bout it. So prove it ‘lil missy.” He challenges you.

Challenge accepted.

His grin widens as he watches you struggle to prove your point to him, as you awkwardly attempt to get back onto your knees from your sitting position with your arms and hands still tied. You manage it, causing a chuckle from him. He seemed to enjoy watching you struggle, which didn’t surprise you in the slightest. But part of you.. Felt excited. He was sadistic in all things, and you were more than willing to be enveloped by his aura of sadism and lose yourself in it. In him. You crawl on your knees to him, arms and wrists still painfully bound with his rope. You go close to him, feeling excitement and fear all at the same time. He could snap your neck right now. He could knock you out and drag you out of here. He could shoot you right in the damn gut.

But you knew better. He was curious about you. He was intrigued. He wanted to see how far you would go to prove your point to him. And.. He was a sadist who got off on watching you struggle to do so.

He smelled like a mixture of burned skin, gunpowder and a faint hint of something like antiseptic or alcohol. You looked into his eyes for a while, awkwardly on your knees on the hard concrete floor. It was so uncomfortable. It was all around a painful position to be in. But at this moment, it didn’t matter. You had a point to make.

“Fear settlin’ in now? Just go lay back down.” He says, in an attempt to push you away. “Knock this bullshit off.”

But you don’t go. You don’t listen. You lean over, pressing your soft lips to his cheek. His skin was so hard and rough, but you didn’t mind. It was a contrast to your own soft skin, and it was a foreign sensation, but it was intoxicating. It felt calloused, almost. Like he had suffered a burn of several degrees and it was now healed over. You pull back, looking at him as a smile and a light blush dusts your nose and cheeks.

“Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch.” He chuckles. “You are fucked in the head, ya know that?” He tells you, noticing the real smile and happiness in your eyes. There was a glimmer within them, one that you didn’t have before you kissed him. “Seriously, why?” He asks, trying to understand.

“Honestly, I.. I don’t know. I’m just interested in you.” You admit. There was no other way to even try to word it. It didn’t make sense to either of you.

“Sweetheart.. This is all kinds of wrong.” He says, grinning as his eyes examined your face, watching your expression and gaze.

“Since when do you care about wrong?” You ask him, half chuckling. He shrugs his shoulders.

“Alright, you got me there darlin’.” One of his hands comes up to snake around your side. Your eyes brightened even more as he did so, his fingers digging hard into you. It was just the kind of painful pleasure that you enjoyed receiving. “You still wanna do this knowin’ I’m taking you to sell?” He asks.

“Well, if you’re going to sell me then.. At least I’d have a fond memory to think of when I die.” You say. The Ghoul would never admit it.. Ever. But he faltered in that one split second. Knowing you didn’t hate him, didn’t think he was vile or scum, knowing that you understood him and yet still wanted to spend your last hours wrapped up in HIS arms, of all people.. He faltered. Just for a single moment.

“You are fuckin’ insane.” He tells you, his hand running from your side down to your hip. He squeezed once again, hard and rough. Hard enough to leave bruises. “Crazy looks pretty damn good on you, though.” He admits. “Sit in my lap, darlin’.” He tells you, patting his leg. You do so, maneuvering and almost falling flat on your face as you attempt to readjust your position. He chuckles as he watches you, making absolutely no effort to help you.

He was getting off on making you act like a miserable, stumbling fool. And you were getting off on him making you feel like one.

You sat down on his lap, carefully and slowly lowering yourself on him. “There’s a good girl.” He says, grinning and flashing his yellow teeth to you once again. You couldn’t help but smile at his words. A little praise between his sadistic words and actions was the perfect combination of what you truly enjoyed. “Oh, like that do ya?” He asks in amusement.

“I do.” You admit, feeling both of his hands come up to grip your hips tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh hard, gripping you obsessively like he never wanted to let you go.

“I ain’t gonna be gentle. I don’t do gentle. But somethin’ tells me that’s how you like it, ain’t it?” You nod again. You hadn’t been with anyone like this, anyone near his level of danger and excitement. You needed more.

If you were gonna die anyway, then you were gonna go out with a bang.

“You can be as rough as you want to be. I can take it.” You tell him.

“You ain’t been with any man as rough as me. I can promise you that, sweetheart.” One of his hands comes up, sliding from your hip up your side. As he comes up to your breast, he squeezes it tightly in his hand, hissing through his teeth. You let out a soft whimper, biting your lip in response. “Crazy, crazy girl.” He says as both hands come up to grab each breast through your clothes. He squeezes them tightly, sending jolts of pain and pleasure throughout your body. A half moan, half squeal escapes your lips.

“F-fuck..” You stuttered, giving him even more amusement at your struggle. You instinctively rocked your hips against him, but you were too far back on his legs to feel his erection.

“Slide on up closer.” He purred. “Don’t be gettin’ shy on me now.” You did as he told you to, moving your body up further on his lap. You could feel it now. His hard cock pressed against your inner thigh, straining like it was begging to be released from its confines. He watched your bright eyes, tilting his head to the side as he grinned. “Think I’m gonna have to redo these ropes a ‘lil bit.” He quickly and easily removed the ropes that kept your hands and arms still, painfully toward the front of your body.

This was your moment to run. But you didn’t. You felt no desire to leave. You wanted this, needed him. He wanted you just as much. There was no way you were going to run away from this feeling.

“Hands behind your back now, sweetheart.” He said in a low whisper. You did with no hesitation, placing your hands together behind your back. He grinned in amusement. “‘Atta girl.” He praised, leaning close to your face. His hot breath mingled with yours as he skillfully maneuvered the rope behind your back. Without even looking at it, looking into your eyes instead, he somehow managed to tie a perfect knot around your wrists. You were bound, but in a different way. He had full access to the front of your body while you were still kept tied, remaining under his control. He was impressed, humming in response. “Ain’t you just a good ‘lil thing for me? Look at that.” You nodded, the smile reappearing on your face at his praise.

“Mhm.” You affirmed.

“Keep bein’ good for me.” He commanded you as he pulled his knife from the holster at his side.. The one he had just sharpened a few minutes before. Excitement ran through your body as he brought it close to your skin in a teasing manner. He turned the sharp side of the knife away from your body, trailing the back of it over your neck. You shivered as the cold blade gave your now heated body goosebumps as it moved along your skin. He admired it, the way it glided across your skin and left you with the fear of a little slip or a little nick on your skin.

Without much warning, he moved the knife to the bottom of your shirt. He pulled the shirt away from your torso, using the knife to cut the shirt up to your chest like a hot knife through butter. He grunted as he did so, pushing the now torn pieces of your shirt to each side.

“There we go..” He grinned, flicking his tongue in his mouth while he admired what he saw. “Been so long since I seen such pretty, smooth skin like this.” He told you, taking the back of his knife and running it up your stomach. You shivered, watching the sharp side of the blade slowly work its way up your torso. “Still don’t wanna quit?” He asks.

“Fuck, no.” You spat out with a smile. His grin grew wider as he moved the blade up, slicing your bra in the very center of your chest. Your breasts fall from the confines of your bra, the cool air making you shiver as it touches the sensitive skin. Your nipples pebbled quickly, more goosebumps appearing all over your chest.

“Lord have mercy..” He groaned as he admired them. “Look, at, fuckin’, you..” He reiterated, using the broad side of his knife to tap the cold metal against one of your nipples. You shuddered, whimpering as you looked away. You weren’t sure why the sudden shyness took over your body, but it did in an instant. “Ah, ah..” He scolded you, using the point of the knife to pull your face back in his direction. It was so sharp, sharp enough to cut if he pushed even a little bit.. “Don’t look away, sweetheart. You wanted this, so pay attention.” He scolded you, giving you a stern look of warning. It was even more than a warning, it was a threat that you heard loud and clear.

“I’m sorry..” You whimpered, keeping your eyes locked on him now.

“You will be, if you don’t fuckin’ listen.” He warned you again. You nodded in understanding. Tears began to sting your eyes at his harsh words.

But you liked this. You liked that he was being so mean. You felt the heat pooling between your legs at his cruelness, feeling an overwhelming desire to do nothing but please him and hear his praises. He noticed this, watching you closely.

“Now, sweetheart.. You know you made me have to do that.” He reminded you. “You understand?” You nodded, a little sniffle coming from your nose. “Then just be a good girl and listen. Don’t do it again. Don’t like gettin’ all mad at you. That sad ‘lil face almost makes me feel bad.” His knife then enters your pants at the thigh as he begins tearing the fabric away, skillfully avoiding piercing your skin. “I don’t feel bad at all, but it almost makes me feel bad.” He says, grinning at you sadistically.

He was so fucking mean, and you loved every part of it. You wanted to clench your legs together to feel some kind of pressure or friction between your thighs, but you couldn’t. Not while sitting in his lap like this. Maybe that’s why he put you in this position, because he knew there was no way for you to get any relief without him being the one to do it.

He ripped away pieces of fabric from the crotch of your pants as you still sat in his lap. He tore away at the middle, even cutting at the waistband so that he could peel the fabric away from your waist. He was met with your simple pair of panties, hugging your hips just perfectly.

“What, nothin’ special for me?” He asked, mocking your simple choice in undergarments.

“I didn’t know this was-” You began, but he pressed the broad side of his knife to your lips, the cold metal a warning. You shuddered as you stopped and listened.

“It wasn’t a real fuckin’ question. Hush that mouth up, now.” You shivered in delight. He noticed, shaking his head as he slid the blade into your panties at the waistband. “You’re fuckin’ nuts and you don’t listen. We gotta fix one of those things at least, don’t we?” He smiled as he easily sliced the fabric of your panties. He pulled them away with his other hand, tattered and cut apart. They were easy enough for him to pull away from your body, tossing them aside on the floor.

You were mostly exposed to him at this point. Your whole front side was open for his viewing and pleasure. He began hurriedly undoing his own belt and zipper, keeping his eyes on your body as he pulled out his cock. It was more or less like the rest of his skin, and you couldn’t help but be curious what it would feel like inside of you. You felt excitement at his rushing of things. It felt like he needed and wanted you in that moment just as much as you wanted and needed him.

“Now..” He said as he looked up at you. “Take it.” He stated flatly. Your hands were still tied, and you knew that, but you instinctively tried to move them without thinking about it. He rolled his eyes. His hand came up, lightly slapping your cheek like he was trying to get your attention or knock you out of a daze. “Hey. Now I know you can be a ‘lil smarter than that. Lift your fuckin’ hips up.” He commanded. You did with no hesitation, using your knees to lift yourself up just enough. He adjusted his cock on his own, positioning himself right where he needed it to be. “See? Now was that so hard?” He mocked you, pouting his lower lip.

“I’m sorry..” You whimpered again, trembling with desire for him. You were absolutely fucking soaked. Between the attraction, the tension and the way he was talking to you and treating you.. Fuck. It was killing you.

“Sit the fuck down.” He told you, growing impatient with you. You began without hesitation, sliding your pussy down to take his cock. He groaned as you began to envelop him, letting it out through gritted teeth. His cock was hard and almost rigid from his ghoulish transformation. It was just a little different than what you were used to, but still delicious all the same. You slid down and took him in quite easily, your wetness almost already dripping down his cock. “God damn.. Fuck.” He cursed as you bottomed out on him. His eyes opened slowly to look at you again, his tongue moving against his cheek. “‘Atta girl..” He purred to you.

“Fuck..” You whimpered out, taking a moment just to revel in the new sensation. His hand slid up your torso, admiring your body before finding its way to your neck. He held it in his grip, pressing the veins on each side just enough to give you a subtle threat.

“Go on, sweetheart.” He encouraged you. He kept his hand on your throat as you began to move your hips, switching between rocking back and forth and bouncing in his lap. He groaned as he watched you, hissing through his teeth while he kept his hand firmly on your throat. His other hand trailed along your body, running roughly over every inch of your skin. Grabbing, pulling, holding any part of you that he had access to. Your body felt like it was on fire and your knees burned from the hard floor, but it all became an afterthought as you lost yourself in him. “Yeah, take my fuckin’ dick..” He grunted out, encouraging you. His free hand came down to hold your hip, helping your motions. He moved you faster, his grip on your throat tightening. “Come on, darlin’ keep at it.” He began to push his hips up to meet your thrusts. “Good girl..” He growled as he then reached down, aggressively grabbing your hips with both hands. He pulled you down on his cock hard, moving your hips on his own and pounding up into you relentlessly. He was impatient, desperately needing to fuck your brains out.

“Oh, fuck!” You cried out, unable to do anything else as he held you and used you like a toy. He fucked you from below like a wild animal, your body shivering and shaking in pure bliss. The surges of pleasure rushed throughout your whole body, almost making you feel mindlessly stupid and lost in it.

“You’re a fuckin’ filthy whore.” He told you, still thrusting up into you. His words only spurned you on further and further into the pleasure. “Some ghoul asshole takes you to sell, and you fuck him.” He grunts out as he relentlessly pounds you, the obscene sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. “You’re just the kinda dirty girl I like.” He admits, giving you a few more hard thrusts. You were overwhelmed with the sensations, every sense you had been pushed to the brink of what you could handle. Without any warning, he gave you a final thrust. A deep, hard thrust that felt like the head of his cock was kissing your cervix. He held your body down on him, forcing you to feel his cock twitch deep within you. Forcing you to take every single drop of his cum. “Fffffuuuccckkkkkk..” He groaned loudly, pumping out the last few spurts of cum into you. His eyes were closed, but as he finished, he opened them once again to get a good look at you. Your cheeks were red, your head was wet with sweat, and your eyes were glazed over with pleasure. “Ain’t felt like that in a long fuckin’ time..” He recalled, running a hand up your side from your hip.

It took you a bit to even respond. You were so lost in all of it that it took you a few moments to recover your mind from being stuck in the clouds. You sat there in his lap, breathing heavily and groaning as you kept his cock inside of you, taking every drop of his seed that you could possibly squeeze out of him.

“Me either..” You manage to choke out, still stuttering and trying to form your words properly. You were both breathing heavily, coming down from the high of what just transpired between you two.

As your breathing began to relax, you listened. You noticed that the radiation storm had died down just a bit, but was still creating havoc outside. The wind and the rain would still make for plenty of damage and destruction, even without the thunder and lightning. The Ghoul adjusted himself against the wall, moving his back up a bit. He had slid down just a little in the middle of your violent fucking. You attempted to lift yourself off of his lap, but he protested by holding your hips in place.

“Ah, ah.” He scolded you once again, giving you a stern warning look. “You’re just gonna sit there like that ‘n look pretty.” He told you. “Got it?”

“Mhm..” You said quietly as you nodded. It was still uncomfortable to be like this, but you wanted to stay. Your knees were on fire, your hips and legs were on the verge of cramping.. But you wanted to stay in his lap like this.

There was a long silence as you both recovered. Something in this moment gave you a brief feeling of contentment. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time. He seemed to feel the same, sitting there in total silence with you.

You wanted to kiss him. He fucked you, but he hadn’t even kissed you. Feeling bold for this one small moment, you leaned forward in an attempt to kiss him. His hand came up, grabbing your face hard.

“The fuck are you doin’?” He asked, wary of your intentions. He squeezed your cheeks in his fingers, forcing you to speak through your squished lips.

“I just.. I wanted to kiss you.” You admitted to him. His gaze never changed from the hardened one, but you could tell that he liked what you said.

“You still ain’t giving up, are ya?” He asked you, squeezing even harder.

“I’m not because I didn’t fake any of this.” You remind him. “I’m not trying to escape. I haven’t tried, not once. Even when I could have.” He pauses, looking at your face as if he were examining it. He moved it with his hand, back and forth, back and forth..

“Ya know.. You might be a lot more valuable to me if I just keep you locked up down here.” He said, watching your face for a reaction. “Whaddya think?”

“You can do whatever you want with me, Ghoul.” You addressed him in an unfamiliar manner, unsure of what else to call him. You’d never been told his real name before.

“Cooper.” He told you.

“You can.. Do whatever you want with me, Cooper.” You said, saying the words once more with his name. You offered him a sweet smile, a real and genuine smile, to try and curb any fears or worries in his mind. As he saw you smile, he pulled your face to his. His rough, scarred lips pressed against your soft and gentle ones. It was only a small kiss, a fleeting moment of kindness and feeling from. But it meant more to you than anything you’d felt in a long time. You knew you’d really have to work to earn more kisses from him.

“Think I might just keep you and find another victim instead.” He said, grinning widely. You wanted to kiss him again so badly, but you held back.

“Keep me here?” You asked.

“Yep. Would you run on me?” He asked, looking deeply into your eyes.

“No.” You said honestly.

“Still think you’re nuttier than a squirrel turd. But I think I believe you.” He admitted. You paused, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“What the hell is a squirrel?” You questioned, awkwardly laughing. He grinned, huffing out a small laugh.

“Oh, what in the fuckin’ hell am I doin’?” He asked himself as he looked into your eyes. “Hush up and give me those lips again, sweetheart.”

All my links

This was so cute, and hilarious at the end!!!

I LOVE the symbolism and meanings behind Reader's dreams, and the vulnerability shown in Cooper's!!

Chapter Six: Chem Induced Dreams

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - More Coming Soon

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader Summary: The chems and alcohol fuel some strange dreams for the two of you.... Tags: Slow burn (and I mean SLOWWW), angst, SOME smut (FINALLYYYY), eventually more smut, language, canon-typical violence, chem/alcohol use, more tags will be added Posted on AO3: Smoothie and The Ghoul Word Count: 1.6k

A smoothie and a ghoul lay side by side, their bodies intertwined and in a peaceful slumber, the effects of the alcohol and chems they consumed begin to take hold. Through the night, their minds are transported to a realm of vivid dreams, where reality bends and twists to the whims of their subconscious.

Smoothie

“Please, sir. Please, sir, please.” The man's desperate pleas for mercy echo in the tense silence that hangs in the air as The Sheriff, who is quite obviously Cooper Howard, stands unwavering with his gun trained on him.

“There’s an old Mexican eulogy.” The Sheriff begins, his gaze unwavering. “Feo fuerte y formal. Means he was ugly, strong, and had dignity. Well, Joey, I’ll give you two out of three on that front.”

The sharp crack of a gunshot splits the air, the deafening sound echoing through the stillness as the bullet finds its mark, piercing the man's forehead. He crumples to the ground, lifeless and motionless. Your heart races as you rush over to the Sheriff, the hem of your dress trailing slightly behind you, collecting dust from the barren ground.

His gaze meets yours, weariness in his eyes, hinting at the burdens he carries and the lines he's crossed in the name of justice.

"Oh, Sheriff!" you exclaim as you rush into his arms, "Thank you for saving the town! For saving me!"

"It was no trouble, ma'am," The Sheriff replies, his voice reassuring while he protectively embraces you. "Plenty of folks wanna make life hard for people just tryin' to survive. I'm not willing to stand for that kinda shit."

The familiar words spoken by him resonate deeply within you, stirring memories of the ghoul from your past who uttered the same words. As you stand in his embrace, the echo of that long-ago conversation plays in your mind. You slowly gaze up at the Sheriff, his touch gentle yet firm as he places one hand around your waist, drawing you closer. Leaning in close, your noses brush against each other in a tender, intimate moment. You close the remaining minuscule gap between you and press your lips to his in a soft, heartfelt kiss.

“How can I ever repay you, sir?” you whisper.

“I believe you already know, ma’am,” he smirks. Firmly guiding you toward a small worktable close by, he lifts you onto it, a rush of emotions and sensations coursing through you. His touch is commanding, his gaze intense as he looks into your eyes.

You can feel his growing bulge press against you, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands move with purpose, exploring every curve and contour of your body. The Sheriff's lips brush against your neck, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. Your heart races as desire flares within you, a primal need building with each passing moment. His fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls you closer, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.

He pulls your dress up with a certain abruptness, allowing it to slide over your legs and hips, fully revealing you to him. "No undergarments, miss? You’re brave." He murmurs into your neck, his hands firmly cradling your hips as he pulls you closer. His breath on your skin is a tease, his whisper a command.

"Don't move," the Sheriff orders, his thumb beginning a gradual exploration of your intimate folds. The soft moan you emit in response elicits a deep groan from him, your reactions spurring him on. He carefully slips a finger inside you, the sensation sparking a shiver that courses through your body. Simultaneously, a nuclear detonation erupts in the distance. The ground vibrates ominously as the shockwave from the explosion begins to barrel towards you.

As he continues his ministrations, an undercurrent of urgency begins to build. The sheriff's breath hitches as he feels you respond to him. In the distance, the nuclear explosion casts an eerie glow, the rumbling shockwave growing ever closer. Your heart pounds, the adrenaline surging through your veins adding an unexpected intensity to the already charged moment.

"Stay with me," he commands, his voice a beacon of stability in the face of the looming chaos. The blast wave engulfs both of you, yet you remain unscathed. However, the Sheriff's appearance starts to morph grotesquely under the radiation's influence. His clothes fray and tear, his skin blisters and heals into severe scars, and every strand of hair on his body apart from those beautiful lashes you’ve come to know evaporates. His nose starts to deteriorate, the transformation continuing until he becomes The Ghoul.

Despite the monstrous changes overtaking him, the Sheriff's eyes remain the same - dark, intense, and focused on you. "I'm still me," he rasps, his voice now a hoarse whisper. One hand, now roughened and scarred from the ghoulification, reaches out to you as his other hand continues the rhythmic movement of his fingers within you.

“Cooper…” you moan, a mixture of longing and desperation in your voice.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he urges, the command driving you towards euphoria. But just as the waves of ecstasy are about to wash over you... you suddenly wake up, the dream fading into the harsh reality of two men holding weapons. You glance over at The Ghoul, who remains undisturbed, sound asleep with a noticeable tent in his pants.

"Seriously?" you mutter in disbelief.

The Ghoul

The movie hums softly in the background, a mere backdrop to the unfolding scene between the two of you. As he leans in closer, the effects of the chems begin to show, his tough exterior slipping away to reveal a vulnerability beneath the surface. The quiet understanding in your eyes is a cruel sting, a reminder of the man he once was before becoming the grotesque parody of one of his film characters. Your gaze, strangely enough, holds a blend of intrigue, fear, and something akin to... desire?

His lips meet yours in an achingly tender kiss, an act so human. The moment they touch, it feels like a minor nuclear reaction, sparks fissioning through both your bodies in a wave of warmth and despair. Your lips are softer than he expected, the whisper of them against his own triggering a barrage of nearly forgotten memories - laughter, love, loss, all rolled into this one desperately intimate act. He pours his years of solitude and longing into the kiss, the taste of you intermingled with the bitter taste of whiskey.

He pulls away, his eyes meeting yours once more, searching for signs of repulsion or fear. Instead, he finds a silent understanding, a quiet acceptance that fills him with a strange sense of relief. He reaches up to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. He can feel the heat of your skin, the pulse of your life beneath his touch, grounding him in a reality he thought he had lost long ago.

You move to straddle his lap, looking into his eyes for any sign of hesitation. "Is this okay?" He nods, his gaze never leaving yours. You lean in for another kiss, this one more intense than the one before. His hands move to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. His lips move against yours with a newfound urgency, the taste of liquor on his tongue now mixed with something else - a raw, burning desire.

Your touch sends a shiver down his spine, the warmth of your body seeping into his, your heartbeat pounding in sync with his. The heat between you builds, each kiss stoking the fire within. Feeling the urgency of the moment, you start to move against him, the friction sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing through both of you. His breath hitches, a low groan escaping his lips as he surrenders to the intoxicating sensation.

You eagerly start undoing his belt and pants, your movements hurried and desperate as he trails his tongue and bites along your neck. A soft giggle escapes you, a mix of nervous excitement and desire. A groan rumbles deep from within him as you slip your hand down his pants, feeling the heat and hardness beneath your touch. Your hand envelops him, stroking him with a firm grip, igniting a fire within him.

Despite the intense pleasure coursing through him, a fleeting thought crosses his mind - does the texture of his skin unsettle you? Has the touch of a ghoul ever crossed your path? The curiosity lingers momentarily before being overtaken by pleasure once more.

You slide your hand over the head, getting your palm slick, then back down his shaft, making him sigh against your neck. The sound of your moan catches him off guard, stirring something within him that he thought had long been buried. For a fleeting moment, he questions whether you matter to him in a way he hadn't anticipated - he barely knows you, after all. He can’t help but thrust a little into your hand in response.

"If you don't slow down, darlin'," he begins, his voice husky with a mix of warning and desire. But your response is to move faster, the urgency between you driving you to press your lips to his in a fervent kiss. His hands move lower to grab your ass, pulling you closer as your tongues entwine in a heated dance of desire. He's on the edge of ecstasy, lost in the whirlwind of passion, but the moment fractures abruptly as his eyes flicker open. The sight that meets his eyes - two armed men and you, with a look of disbelief on your face as he becomes aware of his painfully obvious erection.

“Well shit.”

Tag List: @fallout-girl219 @ellabellabunny123 @sunnexaltation @coolrobloxkid28 @cheshirecat484 @capan-deveraux2

Gosh this is so good 😭😭

I love the way you write the both self deprecating yet also cocky and confident Ghoul, it comes off really well in this fic!

I can't wait to see more, and also the way you write Reader is so cool, the way she's dealing with her trauma in the fic is captivating and realistic.

Awesome writing!!

From A Previous Life (Pt 2)

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Preg!Reader

Summary: You find comfort in your routine with the Ghoul, but an evening of bonding turns into harsh realizations.

Warnings: Emotional hurt/comfort, pregnancy, non-detailed talk about experimentations, angst, grief, more flirting (less squinting),

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: The second part to what was a one-shot but the responses were so overwhelmingly lovely about it that I just had to write more! I have more ideas for these two because they break my heart, so part 3 will be happening next week :) I'd love to know what you think 💌

Part 1

A routine had solidified between you both, born out of necessity in this unforgiving landscape. Each day, you travelled further through the barren wasteland, seeking refuge in abandoned structures come evening. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you gathered around the crude fire, its flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the worn walls of whatever shelter you'd found. It was a skill your companion had imparted through countless arduous nights, a beacon of warmth and security in the darkness.

With the day's journey behind you, you would compare your spoils. Tins of pork and beans, salvaged copper, and screws—valuable commodities in the market of survival. Occasionally, luck would smile upon you, offering a giant mole rat to add to the evening stew. It wasn't gourmet by any means, but a welcomed reprieve from the Ghoul's ever-present jerky stowed away in his saddlebag like a grim reminder of the world you now inhabited.

Few words had been exchanged between you. You'd come to understand that the Ghoul valued silence, speaking only when necessary, and expected the same from his companion. He had provided a brief summary of the world's changes over the past two centuries, yet remained guarded when pressed for further details about his own involvement. Despite your efforts, he remained as enigmatic as when he first found you.

Despite the grim reality surrounding you, you found comfort in the routine. Far removed from the life you once knew before the war, you still managed to extract a glimmer of joy from the simple act of preparing the evening meal. With meagre resources at your disposal—a small iron pot, a battered ladle, and two cracked but serviceable dishes—you endeavoured to create sustenance that mimicked the warmth of a homecooked meal, even in these bleak times.

The Ghoul stood as your protector, his watchful presence having undoubtedly spared you from peril on numerous occasions during your brief time together. Cooking was a way to prove your  significance in your partnership, no matter how seemingly insignificant it may appear.

The heavy thud of boots and clink of spurs against wood jolted you from your thoughts, the ladle in your hand halting its rhythmic stirring of the broth as you cast a wary glance towards the doorway. It wasn't the first time he had left you alone, deeming it safer to venture into the bustling towns without the added complication of a young woman in tow. He had armed you with a revolver and a combat knife, imparting what little training he could in their use, but you couldn't shake the feeling that his trust in your abilities extended only as far as your loyalty not to run in his absence.

"Well, that smell's delicious," drawled the Ghoul, his figure framed in the doorway, hat tipped low over his scarred features. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and you couldn't help but return it, the warmth of his presence a rare comfort after just an hour alone.

"Did you get them?"

"You doubted me?" He teased, stepping towards you and offering out a small cloth bag. You accepted it eagerly, peeking inside at the plump, juicy tomatoes nestled within.

You wasted no time in incorporating the fresh produce into your cooking, the aroma of the simmering fruit mingling with the savoury scent of the meat in the broth. Seated together by the fire, the weathered dining chairs offering a semblance of normalcy, you couldn't help but inquire about his expedition.

"Did everything go alright?" you asked, eyeing him cautiously as he slumped back in his chair, a groan escaping his cracked lips as he stretched out.

"Hunky dory," he sighed, his voice tinged with sarcasm, head back and fingers entwined over his stomach. You could tell he was lying, noticing the slight clench of his jaw and his reluctance to meet your gaze. 

It was a tell that you had picked up on in your short time together, one that betrayed his otherwise stoic resolve. For some reason, the Ghoul had taken to concealing parts of the truth from you. Maybe he thought you were too weak, too naïve, or perhaps he simply didn't want to subject himself to further questioning. Regardless, it had begun to grate on your nerves. While you appreciated his protection, you couldn't afford to remain in the dark about so much in this dangerous world.

"I'm coming with you next time," you declared, your gaze unwavering as you stirred the pot, the clinks of metal against metal punctuating your determination. "Two guns are better than one."

A playful glint danced in his eyes as he countered, "Not when you're the one holding it." Yet, the lightness in his tone ebbed away, leaving a hard undercurrent. "Already told you no."

There was a flicker of frustration that passed across your features, but you held his gaze firmly, refusing to back down. "And I've already told you not to underestimate me," you retorted, the fire of conviction burning in your words.

His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees, bringing his face closer to yours. A furrow creased his brow, his gaze intense as he pointed a finger towards your growing belly.

"And you underestimate everyone else," he admonished, his voice edged with concern. "You think those vultures would take one look at you, at that cargo you're carryin', and let you walk on by? It's every man for himself out here, sweetheart, and the wasteland makes a man do terrible things. You're a commodity, and it's best you not forget it."

His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of the truth settling upon you like a leaden cloak. Despite your defiance, his words struck a chord of fear within you, a reminder of the harsh realities of the world beyond the safety of the little sanctuary you have cultivated together.

The ladle slipped from your grasp, forgotten, as your trembling hands instinctively hugged your pregnant belly. Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill over, as the weight of his words settled heavily upon your shoulders. A commodity. That's what you and your unborn child had been reduced to in this unforgiving world, one that felt alien and hostile, yet one you were forced to confront day in and day out.

Anger simmered within you, a fierce blaze fuelled by resentment towards those who had stripped you of your former life, of the safety and belonging you had once taken for granted. And though you knew it was irrational, a pang of ungratefulness gnawed at your conscience, directed towards your reluctant protector for the loss of the freedom you so desperately yearned for.

In that moment, amidst the swirling emotions and the harsh reality of your circumstances, you felt an overwhelming sense of isolation, as if you were adrift in a sea of uncertainty with no safe harbour in sight. Perhaps even the promised haven would prove to be a deception, like the vault you had been a prisoner in for so many years. Yet, for the sake of your child, you couldn't afford to surrender to despair. Hope would become your anchor, however fragile.

With a firm resolve, you brushed away the tears before they could show your vulnerability, steeling yourself against the torrent of emotions threatening to engulf you. Turning your attention back to the bubbling broth, you scooped two large servings into the worn bowls, the aroma of simmering spices mingling with the heaviness in the air.

Handing one bowl to your companion, you found him slumped back in his chair, his weathered face illuminated by the flickering glow of the fire. His fingers traced the jagged contours of scars etched deep into his weathered face. A palpable aura of silent desperation hung around him like a shroud, casting a shadow over the dimly lit room.

Tucking into your meals in silence, the rhythmic clinking of spoons against bowls filled the room, a familiar melody that spoke volumes without the need for words. Each bite was a small reprieve from the harsh reality that surrounded you, a momentary escape from the relentless cruelty that had become all too familiar.

His voice, barely a whisper, cut through the quietude of the room, laden with a heavy weight of remorse. "I've upset you," he confessed, the words hanging in the air.

You looked up from your meal, meeting his gaze with a mixture of exhaustion and resignation. Despite the turmoil within you, there was a flicker of understanding in your eyes as you acknowledged his veiled apology. 

"It's not just you," you replied, your voice tinged with weariness. 'I just feel so useless. I can't protect myself or by baby, can't help you without being a burden. I feel like I have no control.'

He nodded, his expression grave as he processed your raw admission of vulnerability and contemplated what to do next. Setting both bowls aside, he reached into a sack he had brought back from the town, his movements deliberate and methodical. From within the depths of the bag, he withdrew a familiar metal gadget, its sleek design reminiscent of the cuffs you had seen the scientists wear during your captivity.

Your breath caught in your throat as memories of your ordeal flooded back, the sensation of cold surgical equipment against your skin sending shivers down your spine. They had treated you like nothing more than a lab rat, subjecting you to experiments and tests that had left scars, both physical and emotional, that may never fully heal.

As he held the device in his hands, his gaze softened, a silent acknowledgment of the pain and trauma you had endured. "I know what this represents," he murmured, his voice heavy with remorse and a tinge of anger. "But it can give you the control you've been denied for so long."

His words hung in the air, laden with the weight of possibility and hope. And as he extended the cuff towards you, offering you a chance to reclaim a measure of agency in a world that had sought to strip it away, you knew that this was more than just a piece of technology—it was a gift, a symbol of resilience. With trembling hands, you reached out to accept it, a silent vow echoing in the depths of your soul: never again would you allow yourself to be reduced to nothing more than a pawn in someone else's game.

As the cuff clicked shut around your wrist, its surprisingly light weight belied the bulk of its appearance. You found yourself staring down at the blank screen, uncertainty knotting your stomach as you grappled with the unfamiliarity of the device. The Ghoul, ever the steady presence beside you, reached over and deftly twisted a knob at the side of the device.

In an instant, the screen came alive with vibrant green text, welcoming you to Vault Tec. An animated image of the grinning mascot of the vaults, a sight you had come to loathe, greeted you with a cheery thumbs-up. You couldn't help but sneer at the sight, the irony not lost on you as the Ghoul swiftly navigated through the interface, replacing the obnoxious Vault Boy with a menu that offered a dizzying array of options.

"It'll take some understanding, but you'll get it in time," the Ghoul reassured you, his voice a steady anchor amidst the chaos of information overload. "The important part is the Geiger counter—it'll keep you out of trouble you didn't even know was there."

Your attention was drawn to the right of the device where a dosimeter's needle bobbed with the steady wave of radiation through the air. Another twist of the knob and on the screen appeared a walking depiction of Vault Boy, displayed percentages accompanying each limb. Below him, a nearly empty bar filled only with a small green block indicated the radiation count of the user. After weeks spent on the unforgiving surface, it came as no surprise that you had been touched by the poison that tainted it.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the hum of the device on your wrist. Looking up, you met the Ghoul's gaze, gratitude shining in your eyes.

Those words didn't do justice to the gift that he'd given you — it was a lifeline, a tool that held the power to protect not only yourself but also your unborn child. It wasn't a weapon meant for moments of attack, as the revolver he demanded you carry on your hip was, but it was equally essential in its own right. The significance of being able to monitor and mitigate the dangers that lurked in the new world was not lost on you. It wasn't just about surviving anymore; it was about thriving, about carving out a future for your child in a world that had become a battleground for survival. One day, the Ghoul would not be there to protect either of you.

"It must have cost so much," you continued, a note of wonder in your voice, and he simply shrugged in response.

"Always something to be bartered in the wasteland," he replied nonchalantly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat. "Don't go crying again, now. You'll give me a bad name."

You chuckled softly. Wiping at your wet eyes with the back of your hand, you couldn't help but shake your head in amusement. "It's the hormones, I swear," you joked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

He seemed amused by your explanation, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he gave you a knowing look. Instead of arguing, he simply winked at you, and you felt a flutter in your belly—you brushed it off as a small, subtle reminder of the life growing within you.

"Got any more of that stew?" he asked, his tone light and teasing as he reached for his bowl, a twinkle of mischief dancing in his blue eyes.

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the moment dissipating like smoke in the wind. "Of course," you replied, ladling some more stew into his bowl. "I'm glad you like it."

"Oh, it's been many years since I've had a homecooked meal," he told you, his tone tinged with nostalgia as he tucked into his food with relish.

You smiled warmly at his words, a sense of pride swelling within you despite the simplicity of the meal you had managed to put together. It may not have been a lavish feast, but the fact that you could provide him with a taste of home filled you with a quiet sense of satisfaction.

"Maybe we could get some vegetables next time. Carrots maybe," you suggested, a hint of excitement in your voice.

He hummed approvingly through his mouthful, nodding in agreement. "Saw some fine-lookin' turnips on my way out of town too. Reckon you can do anything with those?"

Your eyes lit up with inspiration. "Turnip and carrot mash. We could get some milk from a Brahmin, make it nice and creamy."

He licked his lips, a spark of anticipation igniting in his eyes as he set down his empty bowl. "Well now, that's just given me something to look forward to."

The two of you talked well into the night, the crackling of the fire providing a comforting backdrop to your conversation. You noticed a shift in the Ghoul's demeanour as the topic veered towards plans for future meals and the road ahead, his tense posture easing as time went on.

Determined to keep his attention and the mood still light, you regaled him with tales of your life before, weaving together anecdotes from your childhood and high school years with a touch of self-deprecating humour. He listened with genuine interest, his deep laughter ringing out like a balm to soothe the ache of your weary soul.

You found yourself deliberately steering the conversation away from his own past, choosing to focus instead on the light hearted memories of your own. You spoke of your best friend Patti, with whom you had been inseparable, recounting the antics and adventures that had filled your days. You mentioned how close you had become, so much so that you had even moved into houses next door to each other and planned out each meticulous part of your lives..

However, you made a conscious decision not to mention your husband, feeling a pang of uncertainty as to why. Perhaps it was a desire to keep Glenn and your companion separate in your mind, two distinct chapters of your life that you were reluctant to intertwine for some unbeknownst reason. Or maybe it was a subconscious attempt to shield yourself from the painful memories that lingered just beneath the surface. 

Regardless of the reason, you found solace in the simplicity of the moment, in the shared laughter and camaraderie that felt like a bond forging between you both. This was the most that the Ghoul had spoken to you in the weeks since you'd started traveling with him, and you relished the comfort that it brought you. Despite the superficial nature of the conversation, there was a sense of intimacy in the shared laughter and you felt giddy at the prospect of you both becoming more than strangers to each other.

When a yawn escaped you, the Ghoul smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he nodded towards the makeshift beds you had prepared earlier that afternoon. Two tattered twin mattresses salvaged from the wreckage of a long-forgotten room, a decent width apart and covered with old, vermin-chewed sheets. It wasn't glamorous by any means, but it was a far cry better than some of the makeshift sleeping arrangements you had been resigned to during your journey through the wasteland.

"Go get. That's enough jaw flappin' for one night," he teased, a playful glint in his eye. Despite his jest, there was affection in his smile, a silent reassurance that you were safe and perhaps even cared for in his company.

With a chuckle, you nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling over you like a heavy blanket. Rising from your seat by the fire, you made your way towards the makeshift beds, the promise of a few hours of rest beckoning you like a siren's call.

The unwelcome pest of a thought nagged at you, persistent until you found yourself unable to ignore it any longer. With a determined resolve, you moved back towards the Ghoul, your steps fuelled by a sense of urgency you couldn't quite explain. Ignoring the look of alarm that flickered across his face, you leaned over awkwardly as he sat in his chair, and wrapped your arms around him in a brief but heartfelt embrace.

For a fleeting moment, the world seemed to stand still as you felt the surprising warmth of his strong arms around you, the comforting weight of your pregnant belly nestled between you serving as a tangible reminder of the life growing within you. You wanted to thank him, to tell him that this simple gesture meant more to you than words could express—that it was the most human you had felt since thawing from that cryo-chamber all those weeks ago.

But before you could find the words, your thoughts were shattered by the rapid clicking of the dosimeter. Startled, you pulled back, confusion clouding your features as you looked down at the device on your wrist, its needle flitting erratically with each click.

As you glanced between the dosimeter and the Ghoul, a sense of realization began to dawn on you. His eyes remained downcast, his expression unreadable, but the sudden silence of the dosimeter spoke volumes.

In that moment, the pieces began to click into place, like a puzzle slowly revealing its hidden picture. You knew that everything on the surface was a danger, that radiation flooded every inch of land and contaminated everything it touched. Every mouthful of food you took, every swig of water, every wash of your body—each was a necessary risk in the struggle for survival.

But naively, you hadn't stopped to consider the threat that the Ghoul posed—not beyond the immediate danger of him putting a gun to your head or the possibility of him selling you to the highest bidder.

As the suffocating realization settled over you, you felt the overwhelming sense of isolation creep back in, wrapping around you like a vice. Your protector was also your potential killer, and he had wanted to ensure you had a Pip-Boy—to keep you out of trouble you didn't even know existed.

He had given you the knowledge, the control, to make your own findings and decisions, all for the sake of your unborn child. And yet, despite his intentions, you couldn't help but feel a hint of betrayal. You almost wished you could have remained blissfully ignorant about this particular aspect of life on the surface. It was as if you had lost a friend you hadn't really ever had.

"You keep that thing on," he said with a hint of sadness, pointing to your wrist. The only acknowledgement of what just happened. You nodded silently, your hand instinctively running over the cool metal of the Pip-Boy before you turned away.

"Goodnight," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you retreated to your bed. With each step, the weight of the truth bore down on you, a heavy burden you would carry with you as you drifted into a troubled sleep, haunted by the knowledge that even in this new world, friendship was a luxury you could ill afford.

Taglist: @cheshirecat484