How About A Nuke?

How About a Nuke?

Part I / Part II

Cooper Howard x fem!reader A/N: This is really a prelude to the real story. It’s who they were before the bombs dropped and not as fleshed out as it could be. Summary: Hollywood doesn’t agree with you, as much as you wished it would. Until you meet Cooper Howard and he flips your world upside down. (Image below does not represent reader, I mean I don’t even look like that)

“Quench your thirst and a little bit more,” you winked and held up the dripping bottle of Nuka-Cola. You shot your best smile at the camera in front of you, holding it until the director let out a loud “Cut!” The smile dropped instantly and you dumped the bottle back in its cooler. 

Tom walked behind the camera, a frown on his face as he replayed the clip. You’d been here two hours already for a thirty second promo, there’s no reason it should have been taking this long.

You shifted, the leather on your legs creaking uncomfortably. They had you in some odd little space suit, more sexy than functional. The backdrop behind you was of painted stars and an out of scale moon. You weren’t sure how space and Nuka-Cola connected but a check was a check. 

“Is that who I think it is?”

You turned around at the sound of gasping. Your eyes widened and your stomach dropped when you watched the Cooper Howard walk through the entrance of the studio. Your biggest celebrity crush and idol just walked through the door and you were dressed like a sexy astronaut. This is beyond embarrassing. 

You had begged your agent to let you take some more serious roles, or at least a few fun ones. You’d been stuck in the same role of sexy bombshell for too long. You couldn’t even escape it doing a few advertisements. You wanted someone like Cooper to think you were classy or distinguished at least. Not some sellout with over lined red lips. 

You whipped your head around, hoping he wouldn’t notice you, and pretended to be fascinated by the cheap set you were on. “Mr. Howard, a pleasure,” you briefly glanced over your shoulder to watch your director shakehis hand. Cooper looked up, his eyes briefly catching yours. You winced and turned back around. 

“What are you doing here?”

”Filming a new advertisement for Nuka, would you like to see?”

”Why, yes I would.”

Oh, this was wonderful. Just great. You reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose but your hands just jammed painfully against the plastic of your helmet. You listened to them replaying your clip, hating the sultry tone of your voice. You hated being typecast like this. 

You didn’t work so hard to earn your spot in Hollywood just to be forced into the role of a sex symbol. You could be more, you knew it. You just needed a chance. “You did wonderful.”

You jumped in shock at the voice near your ear, your helmet hitting something hard. You heard a groan of pain and turned around mortified to see Cooper holding his nose. “Oh, Mr. Howard, I am so, so sorry.”

He shook his head and held up a hand, smiling amicably at you. “My fault, sweetheart, shouldn’t have snuck up on ya.”

You let out an annoyed huff and finally pulled the damn thing off. “Honestly, I should pay more attention, this damn thing’s a safety hazard.” He chuckled and it made you smile without even realizing it. You could feel the heat already blooming under your skin, just barely resisting the urge to fan yourself. But you couldn’t help but be flustered. It was Cooper Howard!

He finally let go of his nose and you sighed in relief when you saw that it wasn’t too badly damaged. He seemed to understand your relief because he laughed again. You heard whispers behind the two of you and finally realized just how close you both were. A couple PA’s stood huddled together, pointing at you with accusing fingers and harsh glares. 

Probably not smart to be a sex symbol and stand so close to a married man. 

You dropped the smile and took a step back from him. As much as you disliked typecasting, you would hate losing jobs more. You didn’t need any rumors to spread because you smiled too widely at Cooper. Lord knows your career barely survived the last round of gossip, that you’d been sleeping your way into roles. Which you hadn’t. You don’t need anything more like that bothering you now. 

Cooper glanced over your shoulder and seemed to notice the same thing as you, but he didn’t seem bothered by it like you were. Of course, he was a man and he was very happily married, he didn’t have to worry about the same things as you. He was secure in both his relationship and place in the world. You’d just barely gotten a foothold on everything. 

“I thought you seemed just sweet as peaches in that clip.”

You gave him a brief smile, “Thank you.”

”Though,” he frowned and glanced over at the director. You rolled your eyes when you saw Tom point over at you and then gesture to his stomach. If they sinched your waist one more damn time your ribs were going to crack. “I don’t quite understand why you had to be seductive.” He seemed genuinely perplexed but it didn’t take a genius to understand the underlying message of his words. 

You shrugged, “Just seems to be the way my career is going right now.”

”Is that what you want?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. You haven't been asked that before. Of course you’d spoken up about being unhappy with your roles, though you still took them. But no one had ever asked you what you wanted. An odd feeling bloomed in your chest and you took another precautionary step back. “Um,” you frowned and shook your head, “no. It’s not what I want.”

He smiled, seemingly pleased by the answer. “Look, sweetheart, I didn’t come here to drink cola or chat,” he held up his hands in apology, “as wonderful a conversationalist as you are. I’m filming a movie right now. We're looking for a lady with a strong presence to be my companion in the film. I’ve seen your movies, you’re capable of a lot more than they’re giving you to work with. I think you’d be perfect for the role.”

Your ears started to ring as you stared at him in shock. It was hard to keep your jaw closed the longer he spoke. There’s no way that everything you’ve been wanting was just being offered to you on a silver platter. Stuff like that only happened in…

Well, it only happened in movies. 

“That is if you want the role? You’re not looking particularly enthused,” he gave you a charming grin and you finally remembered you actually had to respond to him to get what you wanted. 

“Yes!”

You didn’t care how loud you were or how dirty the looks you were getting from others were. There was nothing on your mind other than the man in front of you and what he was offering you. 

Everything you wanted. 

You stared up at the poster on Cooper’s wall. “I always thought I looked ridiculous in this one.”

“Well,” Barb came up behind you and handed you a martini. You took it from her with a grateful smile and took a sip. You tried to stop your face from screwing up but alcohol had never really sat well with you. “I think you look amazing.” She smiled at you and walked back towards the living room. 

You stayed where you were at the end of the stairs, staring up at the too-large poster. You and Cooper were standing back-to-back, your gun raised to your lips and a smirk on your red lips as your hat laid tilted over your eyes. The bright red cursive title sat under your spurred boots, The Outlaw and The Sheriff. 

Well, they certainly hadn’t been creative with the name. You couldn’t really bring yourself to care, though, it had been your first real role. You had played someone of substance, someone whose entire life didn’t revolve around the man she wanted to have an affair with. Cooper had opened up more doors for you then he would ever understand. 

You turned from the poster and back to the party. For once you weren’t being surrounded by a group of groping producers or Hollywood execs. Being a part of Cooper’s family, someone he was mentoring, it carried a certain power within the den of vipers. You weren’t untouchable, but you weren’t someone to be so easily ruined. 

You flashed kind smiles and coy waves at the people who called out your name and made your quick escape to the backyard. 

Cooper’s new movie had been released and he was having a sort of celebration party. Though, you think it’s just Barb trying to integrate Vault-Tec into the movie industry. From the disgusted looks on some of your co-star’s faces you could tell it wasn’t going very well. 

You sighed in relief at the fresh air and slowly made your way over to the pool chairs. Your feet ached in your heels and you could already feel blisters starting to form. You undid the straps and slipped them off. You lowered yourself onto the edge of the pool and dipped your toes in, the relief instantaneous.

You weren’t out very long before you heard steps approaching. You let out a deep sigh, mentally preparing yourself for your peace to be ruined by whoever wanted to bother you. “You’re not skipping my party, are you?” 

You opened your eyes to find Cooper smiling down at you. You always wondered how his smiles could be so genuine when he spoke to you. You hadn’t felt like you’d given anyone a real smile in a long time. This industry had taken a lot from you and lately you’d been wondering if it had stolen your happiness too. 

You shrugged, “It was getting a little boring.”

He grinned and slipped his shoes off. You watched him roll his pants up and groan as he dipped his legs in the pool with you. His smile slipped and his eyes widened when his legs landed in the water, “Damn, it’s fucking cold!”

You barked out a laugh, rough and very unladylike while he squirmed like a girl at a little cold water. “Didn’t you fight in a war?” You teased. 

He nudged his shoulder into yours, “Watch it,” you shook your head, dismissing his faux warning. You knew he didn’t really mind when you bugged him. It’s how you two had been acting around each other since day one. Tabloids labeled you two as close as kin, brother and sister. 

As much as it bugged you every time you read a headline like that while standing in line at the grocery store, you supposed it was better than everyone thinking you were some two-timing slut. But it bothered you how much your relationship being labeled siblings in nature irritated you. He had a wife and child, you couldn’t let some pathetic crush cloud your judgment like this. 

It was real hard to remember that, though, when he looked at you the way he did. Sitting by his side, under the moonlight, his eyes warm and earnest as he sent you an easygoing smile. You’ll never figure out if it’s in your head, but you swear he doesn’t smile at anyone the way he does at you. 

You feel like the only woman in the world sitting there with him. Like there wasn’t a party going on a few yards away in his house. And you hadn’t just accepted a martini from his wife who had graciously invited you into their home. It was just you and him. 

You didn’t realize you were leaning in until your lips were brushing his. He should have pulled back. You shouldn’t have leaned in. But his hand was on your waist and the other was buried in your hair, desperately pulling you closer. 

It wasn’t gentle or slow like you’d always imagined it. His mouth was moving hungrily over yours, practically devouring you in his desperation to get as close to you as possible. His hand tugged at the roots of your styled hair, a pained moan slipped through your lips. That wasn’t enough to snap you out of your trance, but his tongue licking into your mouth was. He groaned, tasting and savoring you like you would be his last meal. Like he had wanted you just as much as you had wanted him and he wasn’t going to let this chance slip away. 

You jumped back but he didn’t let you go far with his hands on you. His eyes slowly opened while the reality of the situation dawned on you both. You let out a horrified gasp at the sight of your lipstick smeared over his lips. “Oh, god, Coop.” You whispered, voice strained as you stared at him, “What did we do?”

His eyes darted between yours, the realization coming slower to him. When it did, you could pinpoint the exact moment it hit him. His mouth drew up in disgust and he ripped his hands off you. He leapt up, water splashing your dress as he did, but you were too hurt to really care. He clamped a hand over his mouth, looking very much like he was about to throw up on you. “Fuck,” he hissed, jaw clenched and eyes squeezing shut. 

You grabbed your bag and shoes and rushed to your feet. You dug around in your purse, hands shaking so much you could barely undo its clasp. When you finally found your handkerchief you dipped it in the pool and held it out to him. 

He glanced towards your outstretched hand and then to your ashamed face in confusion. “You have my lipstick on your lips,” you whispered. He snatched it out of your hand and scrubbed at his face so hard you wouldn’t even be able to make out the lipstick with how red his skin was. 

Slowly, and without a word, you both made your way back into the house. The tension was thick, neither of you able to look at each other. You kept an unusual amount of space between you for two people who were always so close. If anyone looked out the door at you right now, well, even Bud Askins would be able to tell something was wrong. 

You made it to the glass door and Barb intercepted you. Your heart leapt to your throat. You’d never been more disgusted with yourself. Not only did you kiss this woman’s husband, you had fucking enjoyed it. 

In fact, you wished you were out there still. As small a taste you’d gotten of him, you craved more. Your body was on fire with desire, core throbbing when you thought about the way he’d kissed you. You forced yourself to stop imagining what it would be like if he had kissed somewhere else. God, the thought made you burn. 

She laughed and gave you an odd look, “You look like you saw a ghost.”

Cooper chuckled and you whipped your head towards him in shock. Not only did he look completely unaffected, but he was smiling at you. You couldn’t look at him long, afraid your face would further give you away. You were a good actress, but not nearly as good as him. 

“This one almost accidentally took a dip in our pool,” he and Barb both laughed and you forced yourself to join in. 

“Yeah, and I think that might have been enough excitement for me.” You smiled at Barb and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, the taste of her husband still on your lips. “I’m gonna head home. Enjoy the rest of the party.”

Cooper stopped you before you could completely slip away, “I’ll walk you out to your car, honey.” You nodded, not willing to argue in the middle of his crowded home. Still, you didn’t make it easy for him to keep up with you. You were at the door before he could blink, practically flying out of the house. 

You probably would have made it all the way to your car without another word if it weren’t for him clasping a hand around your elbow. “We need to talk.”

You shook your head and he let out a disappointed sigh. You already knew what he was going to say, and you agreed wholeheartedly. What had happened tonight was a mistake. Not only were you risking your career but you could ruin his whole life if you continued down this path. As much as you wanted him, as much as you had yearned for him, you couldn’t be so selfish. 

But you also couldn’t handle hearing him say that to you. It would break your heart to have to listen to him explain all the reasons you could never be with the man you were so desperately in love with. “I know, Coop, I know.” 

His grip tightened on you when you tried to slip away. You set pleading eyes on him, praying he couldn’t see the tears already starting to build. You knew he could, though, when his gaze softened and he eased his grip on you. After another whispered “please” he finally nodded and stepped back from you. 

You slipped your arm from his hold and ran to your car. You leapt inside and peeled out of the driveway like the devil was on your tail. And maybe he was, maybe you deserved it. Because you still couldn’t help yourself, glancing in the rear view mirror to see Cooper standing at the end of his driveway, watching you go with a distraught look on his face. 

You wiped the tears off your face and turned back towards the road. You could never be with him. You could never love him the way you wanted. You’d have to be satisfied for the rest of your life with the taste you’d gotten tonight. That would be all you would ever allow yourself. 

“A fallen star, Cooper Howard has become a reject within Hollywood. Fellow actors and actresses have been refusing to work with him, making it difficult for the former celebrity to find work. Recent reports say he’s been seen at birthday parties more than on set.”

The female reporter shook her head, “Such a shame. We’ve been hearing that this is all due to his former ties with Vault-Tec. Ties which were recently severed in a grisly divorce with ex-wife and Vault-Tec employee, Barb-”

You clicked the TV off, shutting the ridiculous news report up and ran a hand down your face. You hadn’t seen Coop in a few months. After that night at his house, you’d dropped the movies you’d been doing with him and put as much distance between the two of you as you could. 

That thought made you feel like the worst piece of shit. You couldn’t have known that Hollywood was going to turn its back on him. You couldn’t have known that nearly two weeks after you cut ties his entire life would go up in flames. You should have been there for him. How you feel about him shouldn’t matter when your friend needs you. 

He’d given you everything he could and you couldn’t even be there for him when he needed you. Of course, once you’d heard about the divorce, you’d called up Sebastian. But he had warned you not to try and reach out to Cooper. He seemed to think it would only make things worse. The more you heard, however, the more guilty you felt about not being there for him. Tabloids and gossip columns certaintly hadn’t been kind when the news of his divorce had come out. 

They pounced on the opportunity to further rip into his wounds and present them to the world. You glanced down at your couch cushion, the magazine you’d picked up in the store staring back at you. The front was a picture of him walking out of a house, donned in cowboy gear and clearly performing for a children’s party. 

You sighed and decided you should finally push aside your pride. You snatched your keys from the hook and headed out the door. 

Cooper didn’t seem to believe it was you when he opened the door. His eyes, cloudy and red, narrowed before he frowned and took a step back. “That really you?”

You offered a weak smile and a, “Hi, Coop.”

He scoffed and you could tell he was getting angry. His accent always got a little rougher when he was pissed off. “‘Hi, Coop’,” he mocked, a sneer on his face. “Four months without contact and that’s all you have to say. Fuck off,” he went to close the door but you blocked him with your foot. 

It stung, honestly, the cruel way in which he spoke to you. But you knew he could be a lot meaner if he wanted to and it wasn’t as if you didn’t deserve it. You had been a shitty, selfish friend. “I’m sorry, I was just nervous. I just,” you paused, struggling to find the right words to make this any better. He crossed his arms, still refusing to let you into his house. “I called the second I heard, but Sebastian had told me it would be better if I didn’t come.”

His brows furrowed before he glared at you. “So you don’t even fucking call?”

“I was wrong and selfish. Cooper,” you reached out, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I am genuinely so sorry I wasn’t here for you. But I’m here now, if you’ll let me be.”

The next minute was unbearable. You felt too awkward to take your hand off his arm and he refused to speak. He didn’t even blink, just glared at you, the longer the silence went on the more you could feel yourself losing your nerve. Maybe this had been a mistake. 

Finally, he sighed and your heart leapt to your throat. “Come in,” he stepped to the side and opened his door up further. You kept your mouth shut and slipped into the house. It seemed to be the only thing he’d been able to hold onto since the divorce. 

The door slammed shut behind you and he pushed past you to slip into the living room and throw himself down on the couch. You followed slowly behind him, taking oddly tentative steps, like if you made a noise he would kick you out. 

He had his arm thrown over his face, his eyes clenched like he was in pain. You perched yourself on the edge of the chair you usually sat in, feeling oddly uncomfortable. You fidgeted restlessly on the cushion, crossing and uncrossing your legs, tapping your toes against the floor. 

It had seemed like such an easy decision to come here half an hour ago. But you hadn’t had a plan and that was really biting you in the ass now. Desperate for anything other than the sound of the fabric underneath you, you blurted out the question that had bothered you for months. 

“What happened?”

He sighed, like he’d been expecting it. He sat up slowly, grabbing a glass of brown liquor off the coffee table and taking a swig. He leaned forward on his knees, glaring over at you. “What are you talking about? You’re gonna have to be specific, sweetheart, everything in my life has fallen apart.”

You winced, hating the callous way you’d asked the question. You’d meant to approach the subject more gently, but it wasn’t easy to keep your curiosity contained. “Everything, I guess. Last time I saw you, you were on top of the world. What happened?” You tried to ask your questions as gently as possible, but there really was no use sugarcoating anything. 

“Flew too close to the sun and I fell,” he shrugged and sent you a sarcastic smirk. “But I see you’ve been doing great, huh?”

“Not really, I’ve stepped back from taking on any contracts. I would have dropped Nuka-Cola too if their lawyers weren’t so damn good.”

He shrugged, like he didn’t really give a shit about your life or how it was going. This hurt, how he was acting, you’d never seen him like this. He was acting so mean and despondent. “Found out Barb was advocating for nuclear war and Vault-Tec was backing her. Finding out your wife is orchestrating war crimes really puts a wrench in your marriage.”

You wished you could be surprised, but Barb’s odd behavior since joining the company had been obvious to everyone but Cooper. He laughed when he saw the look on your face, “You say ‘I told you so’ and I’ll throw something at you.” You shook your head and sank back in the chair. “Anyway, Vault-Tec dropped me and since everyone in Hollywood hates me that was the last paying job I had. Now, I’m working kid’s parties.” He scoffed and smiled mirthfully, but the hatred in this look was directed at himself. “How the mighty have fallen, right?”

He threw back the rest of his whiskey and slammed the glass back on the table. 

“I really am sorry, Coop. I should have been here.”

He didn’t look at you, just shook his head, “No point. If you had been, I would have dragged you down with me. Probably the smartest thing you could have done.” You hated this, it made your heart hurt to see him so down on himself. 

This wasn’t the Cooper you knew. This was a man completely broken by what life had thrown at him. You hated this. You hated yourself for not helping him. Hated his wife for abandoning him. You hated the world for so easily turning their back on him like he was nothing to them. 

You slipped from the chair and kneeled in front of him. You grabbed his hands in yours, holding on tight when he tried to slip away. “I’m sorry, Coop, truly. I wasn’t here for you. But I am now, I swear. Let me help you, please.”

He glanced down at you and stared quietly, trying to decide whether he should be an asshole and tell you to fuck off or just accept the help. He had been lonely for a long while now. He needed someone to tell him he was doing okay. That he had done the right thing in getting Barb out of his life. So, he nodded and squeezed your hands back. 

“Pancakes?”

You laughed and sat up in bed, glancing over at Cooper while he got dressed. “Is that all you know how to make?” He smiled and crawled back onto bed to plant a hard kiss against your lips. 

“You want food or not, smartass?”

You laughed and pressed another quick kiss to his lips, “Please.” He shook his head and walked out of his bedroom and towards the kitchen. You sank back against the pillows and stared blankly up at his ceiling. 

You wished there was a title to describe what you were to each other, but you weren’t completely sure yourself. A few weeks after you’d stopped by his house you’d slept together for the first time. And then again and again, and you’d taken to staying at his house more than your own apartment. 

You’d worried that you were letting yourself be a rebound after his divorce. Afraid that he was simply going to sleep with you and move on once he’d found something better. But he didn’t treat you like you were something to throw away. 

But that doesn’t mean anything when he’s never explicitly stated that he wants something serious with you. You sit up when you hear him padding back down the hall, a tray in his hands. You smile at him and help him settle back in bed. 

When you’re done eating you both lay back in bed and you figure you don’t need something definitive for now. You’ll just enjoy what you have while you have him. The shrill ring of the phone jolts you both out of your comfortable state. 

He sighs and reaches over to grab it from its place on the nightstand. The cord stretches over you while he leans back and talks to whoever is on the other line. “Hello?” His brow furrows in confusion when the other person began to speak. You can make out their muffled voice but not what they’re saying. You give him a questioning look but he just shrugs and hands you the phone. “It’s for you, sweetheart.”

“Hello?” 

Cooper watches you with growing confusion as your face lights up and you shoot out of bed. He sighs, knowing his morning is probably over. He figures he should go ahead and get dressed while you finish up the call. 

When he comes out of the bathroom you’re still talking. Your finger is coiled through the cord and you’re pacing a track into his rug. You’ve got a serious expression on your face, listening intently, before you light up once more and let out an eager, “Oh, thank you so much!” You slam the phone back down on the dial and turn to him with an eager smile. 

“That was Tom, he’s got a role for me.” Cooper shoots you a happy smile but he can’t help the twinge of jealously in his gut. A few weeks ago some pictures of you two together had been leaked. While your career and offered had considerably slowed, you hadn’t been completely stonewalled by all of Hollywood like he had. 

He couldn’t help but resent that at moments, that you still got to live your dream while he was punished for doing what he thought had been right. He wouldn’t let that ruin your mood right now, though. “That’s great, what is it?”

You shrugged, going through the room and quickly changing into a long skirt and blouse. “He couldn’t give me many details over the phone. He wants me to head over to his house to pick up the script real quick.” You ran up to him, planted a quick kiss on his cheek and darted towards the hall. “I’ll be back for lunch,” you called over your shoulder. 

Cooper sighed, overwhelmed slightly by your whirlwind of energy. He called out a quick goodbye he wasn’t sure you heard and tried to ignore the nauseating feeling settling in his stomach. 

You stared up at Tom’s door, knocking quickly. You were the perfect picture of naïveté, wide-eyed and eager as you waited for him to open the door. When Tom wasn’t directing Nuka-Cola ads he directed only serious movies. The type that only critics liked. 

Getting another serious role could really help in getting you back on track. Maybe you could even start helping Coop out, he was going to have to sell the house soon if he didn’t make real money. 

The smile on your lips was hard to dismiss as you impatiently waited for the door to open. It didn’t take much longer, you could hear Tom approaching through it and then it was swinging open. He had a wide smile and seemed oddly breathless as he stared at you. “There you are! Come on in, I’ll grab the script.”

Not thinking much of the odd invitation you took a step inside and glanced around. You heard voices in the next room and your smile dropped just a little. “Come on,” he waved you forward when he noticed you had stopped, “I’ll get you something to drink.”

“Oh,” you took a hesitant step forward. “I’m fine, really, I need to get back home pretty quick.” Tom stopped in his tracks and turned around. The look on his face had your hairs standing on end, both of your smiles completely gone now. 

“I said come in.” You tried to back up but your back hit something soft. Jumping forward, you turned to find one of the tallest men you’d ever seen towering over you. He pushed forward and you stumbled back, starting to feel real panic settle in. 

He kept pushing until you found yourself standing in the middle of a crowded living room. Execs you recognized from meetings with your agent and premieres circled around you like a pack of hyenas. Each of them tittering and laughing, pointing at you with a dangerous gleam in their eyes. 

You felt tears pricking your eyes, your gaze darting up to Tom. But he refused to look at you, accepting a large wad of cash from one man and shaking his hand. He spared you one brief glance, a distant regret in his eyes as he walked out the room. 

You spun in a quick circle, breaths coming short and fast when the men started to close in on you. One of them grabbed you and you threw your elbow back into his face, it didn’t matter. They were all reaching for you now. Hands snagged on your blouse and the buttons popped open. 

You opened your mouth, to scream or bite one of them, you don’t know, it didn’t matter. A large hand clamped around your mouth, forcing you to breathe in the cloth on their palm. You sucked in a sharp breath, something sweet tickling your nose before your eyes were rolling back in your head. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

May I just scream to you about "How About A Nuke?" for a sec bc I'm feeling so many feelings about it, many of which I am still processing

Something something about Cooper seeing reader's Nuka Cola ad like this image; parallel to reader, fresh from the vault, looking up to Cooper's movie poster, parallel to the both of them standing next to each other, looking down at a movie poster of their first movie together thinking about how so many things have changed between them and how they're still together despite everything (if they do end up together after everything !!!)

that's all thank you for sharing your fic with us, imma go back to processing my feelings 😂

You have no idea how excited I was when I saw this picture! This is one of my favorite pictures ever, I get so happy every time I see this trope lol

Also, I hope you’re ready because I posted part three and I’m not giving you a break with the angst

(I promise it will eventually get better sort of)

Guess who got Baldurs gate?

Idk what’s wrong with everyone else’s flirting, but I got him into my bedroll immediately.

Call me the Rizzard of Oz.

The pale elf has ruined my life

Please someone give me a request. I have the worst writers block known to man.

How About A Nuke?

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV

The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: I’ve received more love and interaction with this series than I have with any of my other works, so thank you all so much for that ♥️ That being said, I’ve also had a lot of comments talking about how excited readers are for Cooper eventually finding his humanity. This is not going to be that chapter, so strap in and good luck. I’m anticipating there to be about two chapter of this story (most likely.) Summary: The surface sucks. There’s nothing else to it, you’re affronted by violence and brutality every minute you’re up here. The one thing that’s kept you going has been Cooper slowly easing up, you should have known better. Warnings: Themes of SA but none is actually committed.

“Up,” you jumped, jolted harshly out of your restless sleep. You weren’t sure when you’d passed out last night but it was a long while after you’d struck your deal with Cooper. A glance through one of the holes in the wall told you it was still slightly dark outside. 

He strode to the door, throwing it open and not bothering to see if you were following. You scrambled up to your feet, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes while you hurried to catch up with him. You trailed slightly behind him for a while, not willing to risk pissing him off by getting too close. 

He’d always been an even tempered man, at least when you’d known him, this brutality was something completely foreign to you. Left you feeling like you were walking on glass every time you even looked at him. 

After about an hour and a half of walking without speaking, you felt yourself starting to go a little crazy. You rushed up to his side, glaring under the harsh beams of sunlight. “Where are we headed?” He didn’t bother looking at you or even acknowledging that you spoke. 

He simply kept his eyes ahead and kept going. You huffed and let yourself fall back again. He clearly wasn’t in the mood for conversation today. Another hour and you felt yourself starting to slow down. You didn’t have a handy little canteen like Cooper did, you certainly didn’t have any fucking sunscreen. You could already feel yourself starting to pour sweat and your lips were peeling again. 

Any rest you’d gotten from last night was zapped out of you. You’d barely started the day’s journey and already you felt like you were going to keel over. You stopped for a moment, not thinking he’d pay attention, and leaned over to try and catch your breath. 

“Come on!” You glanced up. He’d stopped a few yards up ahead, he was glaring at you, impatiently waiting for you to get a move on. You groaned, taking in a deep breath and forcing your feet to move again. 

“Please, can I just have a sip of water?”

He grinned and pulled out the canteen. You felt the briefest amount of energy shooting back through you at the prospect of water. Your hands reached for it but he snatched it away and took a deep gulp. You licked your lips, mouth feeling even dryer while you watched him guzzle the last of his water down. 

You felt yourself deflate again, too tired to even get properly mad at him. He was just being a dick now. “Fuck you,” you muttered, brushing past him and continuing ahead. 

“Come on, darlin’,” he caught up with you. Not like it was hard, you were going the pace of a turtle right now. 

You felt like a panting dog under the summer sun, practically drooling in an attempt to keep your throat moistened. You pulled the zipper of the vault suit down and tied the sleeves around your waist. 

“I’d keep that zipped if I were you.” You knew he was talking about, the black slip you had on underneath the suit. Probably not smart to go advertising your assets like this, you had no idea had bad the people out here were. But so far you hadn’t seen anyone for miles and you needed a few minutes to try and dry the sweat on your back. 

You didn’t bother responding to him, it was a waste of breath at this point. “You ignoring me now?” You grunted, reaching up to wipe off your forehead and slick the hairs off your skin. “You wouldn’t want the water anyway, unless you got a purifier everything you’ll find out here is radiated to all hell.”

“You were still an asshole,” you muttered. 

He scoffed, glancing over at you before looking back out at the horizon. “We’ll be coming up on an old town, see if you can find yourself some supplies while we’re passing through.” You glanced over at him but he was walking ahead of you again. 

You wondered if this was his attempt at an apology or if he was just heading there because he needed something. Either way, it would provide you a break at least. 

“This is pathetic.”

You glared up at Cooper from where you sit curled up on the floor of an old house. “I’ll remind you that as of yesterday, to me, the most physical labor I had to do was switch out with a stunt double.”

He scoffed and shook his head, not bothering to respond. He walked past you and started rummaging around in drawers. From the abandoned bed rolls on the ground it was clear that somebody used to use this place as their base. You just wondered what sent them running. 

“Hey,” he barked, “we’re not staying here forever. Get a fucking move on.”

You groaned and slowly got to your feet, you stumbled to the other side of the house, rummaging around for anything you could change into or something to eat. You could hear Cooper moving around in the back of the house. He kept slamming drawers and cussing up a storm. 

You’re not sure what crawled up his ass and died but you figure it’s smart to just stay out of the way while he’s like this. 

She made his skin crawl. Being around her was just a constant reminder of what he’d had, who he’d been, and what he was now. Everytime she looked at him with those hurt eyes of hers he just wanted to shoot something. 

He hated feeling like this, almost like he was out of control. He knew what he was, he knew what he had to do to survive in a world like this. But she didn’t. She was naive to the way the Wastelands worked and innocent to the brutality she’d soon find herself in the middle of. 

He should have left her dying in the sand. He should have left her to choke to death in her pod. He was itching to get to Filly, the longer he stayed around her the more on edge he felt. He didn’t need someone slowing him down, she was a weakness and the Ghoul didn’t do weaknesses. 

His hands twitched towards the holster at his side and for a moment he really thought about it. Just sneaking up behind her and burying a bullet in her skull. He’d be getting rid of his problem and saving her from a lot of trouble in the future. She’d never do well in this new world, she was still someone from the old world. 

It would be a mercy to just put her out of her misery now. 

The button of the holster clicked as he popped it open. Slowly, he made his way towards the room she was in, the leather of his gloves creaking as he wrapped his hand around the handle of his gun. Quick, in and out. She wouldn’t even know what was happening before it was too late and the light in her eyes was out. 

Her back was to him, rummaging around in the wreckage of the room. She was completely vulnerable and exposed. Like she didn’t understand how easy it would be for someone to sneak up on her or she stupidly expected him to defend her. 

“Hey! I think I found something!”

His hand jolted away from his gun and he shook his head. What the fuck was he thinking? He still technically needed her for his business in Filly. “What?” He snapped. 

She let out a yelp and jumped. She whirled around on him, hand clutching her chest and stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. It really would be easy to just take her out now. 

“Jesus,” he could tell when she was about to say his name. She’d bite her lip real hard and frown, she was doing it now. For a moment he was thinking about how they used to scare each other. They would make a stupid game of it and she would always hit him and yell, Jesus, Coop! 

He used to think it was hilarious. Now he was just resisting the urge to draw his gun on her. 

“What,” he enunciated each word, speaking to her like she was a child, “did you find?”

She glared at him and moved aside, showing him the stash of shit she’d uncovered. There were a lot of good supplies here, nothing he could use, but enough to stick in a pack for her. Only problem was nobody would leave all this here. Either they were coming back for it or whatever had killed them off was coming for it. 

“Hurry and pack this shit up, we need to get out of here.” When she didn’t move fast enough he snapped, “Now!” She knelt down, hurriedly scooping all the supplies into the ratty old bag on the ground next to them. 

He walked back towards the front of the house, pulling his gun out and surveying the destroyed houses. He didn’t see anybody but that didn’t mean shit anymore. Ever since Muldaver started bringing people into her cult the raiders seemed to have been getting smarter. They needed to get the fuck out and quick. 

“Alright, let's go!” He leaned back in the doorway, peering back into the house and waiting for her to pop out. There was a moment of silence and he frowned, slowly heading back into the house. 

A scream ripped out of the room, echoing into the empty streets of the neighborhood. He rushed back into the house and slowed down once he reached the hall. He could hear her talking to someone, yelling at them more like. He only heard two other voices, wouldn’t be too bad if he didn’t hear more approaching the front of the house. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. He flipped open the chamber of his gun, counting his bullets and trying to decide whether or not she was actually worth helping. 

“Well, ain’t you pretty?”

“Back the fuck off,” you clutched the backpack to your chest, gaze darting between the two men before you. Men was being generous, you’re sure they’d been men once but now they were just twisted freaks capable of nothing but violence. 

The one on the left smiled, blackened teeth making an appearance and the boils around his mouth shifting. You stumbled further back, nearly tripping over a toppled over couch. You only had so much room to move, you were gonna be backed into a corner soon and you didn’t want to think about what they would do to you then. 

The scalpel in your pocket could slit one of their throats but the other one would be on you before you could blink. Still, you kept your hand firmly wrapped around it while you glared at them. 

“You know,” the one on the right started. You could practically smell him from here, his hair so greasy it looked soaking wet. “You’re being awfully rude for someone who just helped herself to our supplies.”

“Pay the price pretty lady and we’ll let you go,” he leered and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what the “price” was. You’d sooner slit your own throat then spread your legs for them. But you also weren’t about to give up the supplies in the bag you were holding. You may be new to this whole Wastelands thing, but you figured Cooper wasn’t going to share. If you didn’t get this bag out of here, you weren’t going to make it another day. 

“You got a working right hand, go fuck yourself.”

They laughed and moved in closer. “We got a fighter, Bart!”

“Sure do, Jed.”

You yelped, tripping over a loose plank of wood and falling on your ass, the scalpel flew out of your hand and skittered across the floor. You barely even breathed before they were pouncing on you. Rough hands gripped your ankles and dragged you across the splintered floor. They were more wild animals than men. 

You tried to kick out, screaming for help and flailing your fists wildly. You felt your hand connect with something hard and then there was a low groan of pain before your arms were being pinned. “No! Let me go!”

They started laughing, one of them tugging the sleeves of your suit off your waist and whistling at the slip underneath. You brought your knee up into his gut but it barely phased him. He just swatted your leg to the side like you were nothing to him. 

You could feel a visceral type of panic brewing in you. There were a lot of things worse than death. The prospect of these men actually getting their hands on you had you kicking out again. You tugged on your arms until you were sure you were doing more damage to yourself than to them. But you didn’t care, you couldn’t think, you were working on the base instinct to protect yourself. 

The sound of spurs echoed down the hallway before Cooper was turning the corner. He had his gun raised and was pointing it right at them. “I do believe the lady said no.”

“We found her first,” one of them let go of your suit to crouch in front of you. He looked like an animal guarding his territory. The other chuckled, barely sparing Cooper a glance. 

“Actually,” he cocked the hammer of his gun back, “you didn’t.”

You processed your ears ringing before you got to the gunshot. You couldn’t hear anything, a high pitched whining making your jaw clench in pain. Your arms went slack and you quickly pulled your pants back up, zipping the suit all the way to your throat. You rolled onto your hands and knees, barely cognizant of the puddle of blood you were dragging yourself through. 

Two arms wrapped around your waist and you acted without thought. You swung out blindly, yelling and clawing like a wild cat. “-nough! That’s enough, come on!” Cooper’s voice broke through the haze and you went limp with relief. 

He tightened his arms around you and dragged you to your feet. You glanced down at yourself, finally feeling the warmth seeping through your clothes. You were doused head-to-toe in those men’s blood. Your face was completely covered. 

You glanced to the right and had to suppress a gag. Brains and skull were mashed together in a disgusting puddle of gore, nothing left of the men who’d grabbed you. “Hey,” Cooper shook you slightly and your eyes shot back to his. “We need to leave now, they’ll be more coming.”

You nodded dumbly, not really sure you were processing what was actually going on. Half of you was still stuck thinking you had to keep fighting, the other half wanted to be back in the cryogenic pod. He wrapped a hand around your arm and shoved the bag into your arms. 

Then you felt something heavy being pressed into the palm of your hand. You glanced down, surprised to find one of his guns in your hand. “What’re-”

“Clearly, you need something to defend yourself. You still remember how to shoot, don't you?” You nodded, of course you did, he’s the one that taught you. “Good, now move your ass.” He gave you a rough shove and you stumbled over the bodies. 

One thing you were learning was that you didn’t get a whole lot of time to process things in the Wastelands. One minute you were on the floor being stripped and the next you were ducking behind an old house to avoid raiders. You didn’t linger on what happened, you tried to keep your mind firmly gripped in the present. You couldn’t give it too much thought or you’d shut down. 

Cooper moved ahead of you, slinking around the back of the neighborhood to make sure the coast was clear. You slid the straps of the bag over your shoulders and followed quietly after him. You made it to the border of the houses and figured you could relax a bit now. 

Clearly, they weren’t coming after you. They might have heard the gunshots but they had no clue where you were. Cooper wasn’t going to risk it though, he wrapped his hand around your arm again and roughly dragged you behind him. 

“Keep up, I’m not gonna come back for you if you fall behind.”

But he already had. He could have left you to those raiders. He came back for you, even he couldn’t deny that. 

“Do you think we’ll be safe here?” He glanced up at you and nodded wordlessly. You stacked the last piece of wood for the fire and sat back. He leaned forward, striking his knife against a rock and waiting for the sparks to catch. 

You watched without thought, mind lingering on the feeling of blood sticking to your skin and clothes. Everytime you moved bits of it flaked off or crusted further onto your skin. You were nearly ready to just claw your skin off to get rid of the feeling. 

“Here,” you glanced up, surprised to find him holding up a wet cloth. “Wipe your face off, you look fucking insane.”

You grabbed it, scrubbing at your face and hands until your skin was raw. “Thanks,” you muttered, tossing the cloth back to him. He caught it and tucked it in his pocket. It felt strange between you. You’re not sure what it was exactly. Maybe you were just projecting, still worked up from what happened earlier. 

It wasn’t a bad strange, per say, just odd. “Take first watch,” he ordered. You just nodded, watching as he leaned against the wall of the old house you were camped in. He pulled his hat over his eyes and stilled. You weren’t sure he was asleep until you heard a few light snores coming from him. 

You glanced down at the gun in your hands. You opened the chamber and counted the bullets before closing it again. It wasn’t like the guns he used to teach you with, that’s for sure. It was bigger, bulkier, probably had a bitch of a recoil too. But you could point and aim well enough, hopefully you wouldn’t need to fire off more than one shot if someone did bother you tonight. 

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, you know you shouldn’t. It’s up to you to make sure no one tries to slit your throat in your sleep. But the events of the day caught up to you faster than you thought they would and before you knew it you were slumping back against the wall and dead to the world. 

Your eyes snap open at the sound of wood creaking. There’s a man, he looks like the ones from today, standing over Cooper. He’s got his knife hovering above his throat. You’re pulling the trigger before you can even think about what you’re doing. 

He lets out a howl of pain and slumps onto the floor. Cooper’s eyes shoot open and he jumps up, he pulls out his own gun but the man is already dead before he can pull the trigger. You stare at the body in shock, mind running so fast you can’t even process what you’re thinking. 

“I killed him,” you muttered. You can feel the gun slipping out of your grasp, hands shaking too badly to keep a good grip on it. “I killed him.”

Cooper walks over and picks the gun back up. He sticks it into the pocket of your backpack and grabs your face. You wince slightly as his fingers push against the bruises on your cheeks but don’t complain. He’s not being rough like you’ve come to expect. 

He stares at you for a long moment, eyes boring into yours with an unreadable expression. “I just killed him,” you whisper again. You’re still trying to reconcile with that fact. You knew it would happen eventually, today had taught you that much. But you hadn’t expected it to shock you as much as it had. 

Maybe it’s because you didn’t manage to blow his head off with one shot. You watched as the light left his eyes. 

“You did a good job, we need to move now, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

And despite what you’d just done, you could really only focus on the fact that was the first time he’d called you that without sounding cruel. 

You were getting closer to Filly, you could see a large forest a couple miles ahead of you. Being closer to the trees, even by such a little amount, was doing wonders in improving your mood. You found you didn’t mind the sun and heat as much when you just kept reminding yourself that soon you could find some shade. 

You passed by an old sunken billboard, Filly spray painted across it with an arrow pointing the way. You found yourself pushing Cooper further ahead today, more and more excited to find somewhere with halfway civilized people. 

You made it to the edge of the forest before Cooper stopped you. He threw his bag down next to a fallen log and pointed up towards the sky. “Sun’s setting, trust me, you don’t want to be exploring these woods after dark.”

The ominous tone had chills raising along your arms, you frowned and glanced towards the dense grove of trees. Something within them trilled out towards the night sky. You found yourself scooting a little closer to him, wary of what was waiting in there for you. 

He huffed out a laugh and started building a fire. You dug through your bag, pulling out the few rations you’d gleaned from the raiders. You held one out to him but he shook his head and pulled out his odd looking jerky instead. 

You’re not really sure what that shit is made of, but you know you don’t want to know. You were too afraid to ask him. Especially after you tried a bite the other day, it didn’t taste like any meat you recognized. 

You ate in a comfortable silence, the sound of your chewing drowned out by the insects flitting around in the trees above you. But he kept glancing at you, giving you odd looks that had you on edge. “What?” You finally snapped, sick of him looking at you weird. 

You hadn’t felt clean since you’d crossed the desert, but after what happened yesterday your skin was crawling with shame and disgust. You felt like you needed to scrape the skin off until you felt clean. He was making you feel even worse. 

“So,” he leaned back against the log. He took his time getting comfortable, letting you squirm before he deigned to finish his sentence. “You really didn’t leave for Vault-Tec?”

You glared at him and shook your head. Why did he still think that? How could he think that? It pissed you off to no end. “Why in God’s name would I do that?” Your tone was indignant. But there was a slightly desperate undertone to it as well. You hated the thought of Cooper genuinely thinking that you had just up and left him one day without a word. 

“Well, I don’t know. I looked for you for a while. Eventually I gave up, figured you’d just found someone else to shack up with.”

You were pained that he would think that of you. “How could you say that?”

He chuckled but it wasn’t kind, it was that cruel laugh that made you feel small, like something to be squashed under his boot. “Well, not like we meant a whole lot to each other.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Not fully processing what he was trying to say to you. “What?”

It took you by surprise, the hatred in his eyes when he glared at you. “What do you think happened, sweetheart?” You hated the way your old nickname rolled off his tongue. It sounded tainted now, twisted by his cruelty. 

“You were at the peak of your career, the sexiest actress of your generation,” he sneered at you, yellowed teeth flashing in the firelight. Your fingers curled into your palms, broken nails digging dully into your cracked skin. His eyes ticked up in interest at your minute shift in behavior. He had always been good at reading people. Except he didn’t used to use that skill so horribly. 

He didn’t let up, digging further into you when he noticed your discomfort. “You were a sex symbol, darlin’ and I was freshly divorced. Did you really think any of that was love?” He scoffed and you felt tears pricking at your eyes. “No,” he shook his head and ripped off another piece of jerky, scoffing at you. “You really think I was gonna say no to a pretty young thing like you? You were just a hole to fill, honey. That’s all.”

You felt like you’d been punched in the gut, actually, you’d think you’d prefer that to how you feel right now. It was getting hard to get the air down your throat, you felt like you were suffocating on the smoke from the fire. Winded and you hadn’t even done anything. 

Everything, everything, he was saying was perfectly concocted to hurt you as much as fucking possible. He knew how you felt about your place in the world, how desperately you had crawled your way into being seen as something human. You’re sure he’s just saying this to hurt you, to keep you away. 

If you were more mature you might even just let it go, realize it was a childish attempt at hurting you and keep going. But this was a man you’d opened up to completely. To take those parts of yourself that he knew were vulnerable and wield them like a weapon against you was something you just couldn’t look past. Especially not after what happened yesterday. 

You clenched your eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay and weakly nodded your head. “Alright. You’ve said your piece. You done?”

He nearly frowned, eyes lowering as he gave you an odd look over the fire. He seemed to be expecting something else. Maybe for you to fight back. Well, if that’s what he wanted he was going to be sorely disappointed. He’d just drained the fight out of you with a few measly insults. 

After a tense moment of silence he nodded. “Great,” you refused to look at him as you got up and grabbed your pack. 

“Where are you going?” he questioned, tone souring as you continued to avoid looking at him. 

“Far away from you as I can get,” you muttered, stalking off into the dead trees. You weren’t a complete idiot, you stayed in sight of the fire, but you couldn’t bear to lay so close to him tonight. Not after what he just said to you. Not after you thought you had finally been making progress and he threw that in your face. 

“Fine, pout all you want sweetheart, give the radroaches a nice meal!” He shouted at your retreating back. You still kept your head down, hand clutched over your stomach while you tried not to cry. You threw your bag down on the ground, a choked sob slipping through your lips while you sank against a tree. 

You felt so stupid! To actually believe that any of the man you loved was left in him had been a fool’s hope. You wiped your eyes harshly, pissed at yourself for crying again. This was the apocalypse, there wasn’t time to cry and moan because the man you loved didn’t love you back. 

You’d dealt with that feeling for years when you pined after Cooper. You could deal with it again. 

Only, the last time you’d pined like this, you hadn’t actually had a taste of what being with him was really like. Knowing that the whole time you were with him he just saw you as something to pass the time hurt you more than you wanted to admit. 

You glanced over your shoulder, watching as he packed away the rest of his food and sank back against the log. He tilted his hat over his eyes and settled in for the night. You turned back around, using the dwindling light of the fire to scope out the forest before you. 

Cooper had said it was only a day’s walk to Filly. Go a mile north into the trees and you’d find the signs pointing the way. His cruel words festered bitterly in your stomach and you found yourself on your feet before you could really think about what you were doing. 

You crept your way towards the campfire and grabbed one of the burning sticks. Cooper shifted and you stilled, wincing as you waited for him to wake up and question what you were doing. But he just shifted onto his side. You ran back towards your bag and threw it over your shoulder. 

You only spared Cooper one last look before you made your way further into the woods. He’d made it clear enough that he wasn’t looking for companionship or friendship. You could respect that, but you weren’t going to tolerate him being a fucking dick to you at every opportunity he got. 

If he wanted to see how far he could push you until you reached the edge, he’d done it. You were done trying to cater to his temper. You could make it a day on your own. After that, you’d find something for yourself in Filly, but you were sure as hell done with Cooper Howard. 

He was a ghost that should have stayed fucking dead. 

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end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

You’re gonna make me blush ♥️

One More Spring

One-shot

Tagging: @dumblittlebunbun bc you’d commented on a previous slasher post

Bo Sinclair x fem!reader A/N: This was a strange little Drabble I came up with when I was experimenting with a different writing style. Summary: You only have one wish, to make it to one more spring in Ambrose. You know that the women don’t last long, used and tossed aside, you don’t have big hopes. Just one last prayer.

You could always tell what kind of day it would be by how the door closed. Maybe it was because you’d grown up with strict parents, but you could read a mood based off their footsteps. 

For now, you felt comfortable and remained lounged on your crappy lawn chair, trying to get some sun back on your legs after winter. The screen door closed lightly behind Bo as his heavy boots made their way to you. 

You didn’t bother lifting your sunglasses as you felt him hovering over you. “What’re you doing?” His voice was gruff and he sounded like he was panting. 

“Trying to get some color back.”

You could hear him scoff and glanced to the side to see him stealing a swig from your beer. “Don’t have better things to be doing?”

“Like what?” You snarked, rolling over and huffing when his eyes immediately went to your ass. Probably a good thing you chose a skimpy pair of bottoms, he was always more agreeable when he was horny. “Playing housewife?”

He chuckled under his breath, kneeling down beside you and flicking your sunglasses up. “Yeah, maybe.”

You rolled your eyes and swatted his hands away. You propped your head up on your arms and glared at him. “I’ll put on an apron for you later, for now, buzz off.”

He shook his head and stood up. “Don’t know where all this attitude came from.” You yelped as his hand came down on your ass. He laughed loudly, walking away much too smug for your liking. “Better not be a damn thing under that apron later!” He shouted as he went back into the house. 

You looked up to tell him off and finally caught a glimpse of his coveralls. Blood coated the bottom of his pants and you shrank back into your chair. You put your head back down on your arms, closing your eyes and ignoring the way your stomach twinged in anxiety. 

As requested, you’d made dinner in an apron and nothing else. Bo had subsequently banished Vincent from the kitchen. You’d felt bad when you’d woken up in the morning, you hadn’t gotten a chance to slip him any food. You’d passed out pretty much the second Bo was done with you. 

Your eyes darted to the bloody coveralls on your bathroom floor. You sighed, legs aching as you got off the bed. You collected his dirtied uniform and the laundry basket and made your way downstairs. 

You got started on the laundry, kicking the old washing machine a few times to get it going. It had been on its last leg for a decade, it was a matter of months before it finally conked out. You threw the clothes in, fingers snagging on a lacy number at the bottom. 

You frowned, tugging it out and holding it up to the light. You’d never seen this before. It certainly hadn’t come from your bag. “You like it?”

You jumped, whirling around with the shirt clutched to your chest. “Jesus, Bo, you scared me.”

He chuckled, face still slightly mussed from sleep. He was only in a white t-shirt and pajama pants, rare to see him in anything other than working clothes. “Snagged that off a tourist yesterday, thought you’d look good in it.”

I thought you would like it. 

I know you’ve got a few shirts like that in your closet.

You always look pretty in this color, baby.

You’d heard it all a thousand different ways. The same sentence over and over and over again. You were haunted by the women of Ambrose. The ones who came before you, who’d tried and failed to play house with him. The ones who were yet to come. 

And the woman who would inevitably replace you when you messed up for the final time. 

Your nails dug into the lace, feeling it give beneath them as you smiled at Bo. “I love it, thank you.”

He hugged you, lips lingering against your forehead before he wandered off to start some coffee. You turned around, eyes going back to the shirt. You’d burn it if you could. Rip it apart and scream, instead you tossed it in the wash with the rest of your clothes. You let the lid slam shut, the noise jarring you out of your stupor. 

You forced on a happy face and walked into the kitchen. Vincent was lingering near the entrance and you offered him a gentle smile. “Sorry about dinner,” you whispered as you passed him. He shook his head and took a seat at the table. 

You grabbed the ingredients you needed, rustling through Bo’s ancient cookbook for the French toast recipe you’d found the other day. One day, you’d run out, you wouldn’t have any more delicacies to surprise them both with. 

Bo would tire of the same repetitive food. The same face every morning. The same sounds and movements in the bedroom. You’d become used up, lose the new shine everyone loved on their toys. 

You clenched the spatula in your hand, gritting your teeth as you cooked some eggs for the both of them. You brought it over to the table, scooping it onto their plates, Bo got the bigger serving. Bo always got what he wanted.

Your mind flashed to the garage, the straps there waiting for you. “Hey!”

You jumped, pan nearly dropping out of your hands as you stared at the dropped eggs on his lap. “Sorry, I’m sorry.” You rushed to the counter, grabbing a towel and kneeling down, frantically trying to get them off his pants. 

A calloused hand landed on your head, you jumped and looked up at Bo. Your heart raced, expecting malice or a sneer that meant the last nail had fallen and your time was up. Instead he was smiling gently down at you, hand smoothing the hair from your face. “Just a spill, darlin’, get the bacon ‘fore it burns.”

You backed away instantly, taking the egg filled rag with you as you went back to the stove. You flipped the bacon, turning off the burner and risking a glance over your shoulder at Bo. 

He was sipping his coffee peacefully, not a worry in the world. But you could see how tightly Vincent had his fork gripped, the way it shook slightly as he placed it back on his plate. Seems you weren’t the only one who’d thought your time was up. 

When would it happen?

When spring returned and the birds started chirping their early morning song again?

You wouldn’t mind if that was when it ended. If you got to make it to another birthday, that would be even better. You’d like to experience another holiday, or Halloween. Perhaps that was too much to ask for. 

You’d settle for just seeing the buds return to the trees in Ambrose once more. Pink blooming in the absence of death. That would be lovely. 

Alright, you’ll take that. 

Make it through one more spring and you can happily let go. 

You could hear the women screaming as you walked down the stairs of the house. See glimpses of who they used to be. Hair clips you knew weren’t yours, underwear buried in the back of drawers that you’d never touched. Necklaces and jewelry that didn’t match yours. 

You could hear their voices, disorienting and panicked as you hung the laundry on the line. Felt like the birds echoed their mourning cries in their melody. 

You saw the red lines around your wrist as you pulled off the dry sheets. You tried not to look at them too much. Bo liked to touch them, rub his fingers along your wrist and admire them. He thought it brought you closer, linked you together somehow. 

You hated looking at them. Hated the sight of the worn skin. All it reminded you of was the time below. Your pictures that were tacked above the others. 

You heard a scream further away from the house, bloodcurdling and echoing through the air of Ambrose. It would never make it out. Never travel past the forest bordering the ghost town. You wondered if it was a product of your own fractured psyche or another masterpiece in the works. 

Your question was answered when you sat on your knees in the bathroom that night, trying to scrub the crimson out of Bo’s coveralls. 

You liked your time with Vincent. You like the candles he kept scattered around his studio, nails dug into them to help him keep time. He’d sit you down on the couch and would position you like a doll. You’d let him, mind going numb as you lost time for as long as he wanted to draw you. 

You knew he liked you the most out of the other girls. You learned sign language for him, communicating with him when Bo got sick of both of you. He enjoyed your face the most. It wasn’t model perfect or the type of beauty people wrote songs about. 

He liked the normalcy of it, the slightly blandness. He’d told you once, on a nice night, that it was your eyes that gave you life. Not the color of them, but the light behind them. 

You wondered if he would draw you again when Bo snubbed them out. 

You folded Bo’s clothes, tucking them neatly into his drawers and tossing the basket back into the hall. You moved towards the bed, straightening the sheets and tucking them in tight. You liked it tight, he hated it. 

Your one act of rebellion. 

It honestly wasn’t hard to fall into this role with Bo. You’d known if you’d wanted to survive the only chance you had was to make him happy. In a way it was peaceful here. It was quiet and you never had to worry about anything.

You cleaned the house, cooked the food, were the perfect housewife and he’d be content and so would you. He let you have your own time, surprising you with journals to write in. Or he’d dig through tourists bags and bring you back books he’d thought you’d like. 

You didn’t get to go into the city with him, doubted you ever would, but you were okay with this. 

You picked up his watch, opening up his night table’s drawer to tuck it away. Your eyes landed on a bright splash of red and your fingers froze from where they hovered above the handle. You glanced over your shoulder, heart thrumming. 

You turned back towards the drawer and carefully slid the Polaroid out. 

A picture, a woman with gorgeous red hair splayed along her pillow. She looked beautiful. 

Or she would. 

If it wasn’t for the gash across the neck, so deep it showed you the inside of her throat. Crimson dripped from the wound, pooling around her and onto the bed below her. 

Your eyes darted to the bed to your left, hands wrinkling the pristinely kept picture. Without thinking your hand dove further into the drawer, probing, digging, searching for something. 

You didn’t know what until you hissed, hand jerking back as blood blistered out of the gash on your finger. You placed the picture back, popping your finger into your mouth and licking up the metallic taste of your blood. 

You used your other hand to wrap around the handle of the blade, tugging out the large kitchen knife and staring down at it blankly. 

One more spring.

You put the knife back, straightening out his drawer and leaving the haunted bedroom to clean your wound. 

You woke to the sound of birds chirping. To your left was the window, pink buds blooming across the branch of the tree across from the house. Above you was Bo, straddling your waist, a knife held tightly in his hand. 

“Well,” you wrapped a hand around his, calmly pulling the knife down to your throat. You’d thought you’d be more upset. Fight, beg, plead for one last winter, or just another day. One last good day. But you were tired, you’d been slipping since summer. Bits and pieces of yourself floating along the wind, joining the cacophony of lost women. “Aren’t you going to do it?”

Bo stared down at you, his brows furrowed. The whites of his eyes were red and you knew he’s been struggling with this for a while. You weren’t sure how long he’d been sitting above you, but you knew it had been before you’d woken. 

You were thankful, at least, that he had let you see the spring morning before he did this. 

He yanked his hand out of yours, “Crazy bitch,” he muttered. He scoffed and shook his head, jumping off of you. Your head lolled to the left, you opened up the window, inhaling the fresh smell of new life. 

You made it another winter and another spring. Your face was plastered along Vincent’s wall. Statues of you adorned Ambrose but you didn’t occupy a single one of them. 

On the outside MISSING flyers with your face faded and fell from lamp posts. Your name was forgotten from the minds of those who’d been alive to mourn you. You became another statistic, another lost soul. An old news story that would be used in classrooms. 

What happened to her?

Is she still alive?

Was she the first?

Will we ever know?

No. They wouldn’t. You were the girl on the paper trampled beneath frantic feet as they rushed to work. Tossed aside in the garbage when they were done with the morning paper. To the rest of them, you were forgotten. 

To Ambrose, you were their muse. Inspiration behind their every move. 

Every morning you’d wake up to a blade pressed against your throat. And every morning Bo would leap away from you and shake his head. He’d never do it, you knew that now, and it provided you with a careless freedom that freed you from the shackles you’d placed upon yourself. 

You didn’t spread your legs and let him take what he wanted anymore. You didn’t submit under his temper, you fought back, raised your voice and threw glass bottles right back at him. You didn’t let him bend Vincent under his thumb or scream at him just because he could. 

You pushed, every day, that invisible line that separated you from the other ghosts in town. Yet, somehow, you never breached it, only managed to extend it. 

“I want to go with you.”

Bo froze, after a moment he fixed his cap and grabbed his keys from the tray. He didn’t look at you as he spoke, “Well, come on then.”

You followed him through the front door, hopping in the truck when he opened it up to you. The engine rumbled, vibrating the seat below you and his hand slid from the keys to your thigh. He squeezed, as if reminding himself you were there, he was really doing this. 

You could hardly believe it yourself. 

Bo rounded the bend from the gas station and you felt your heart racing. A hummingbird flitting through your chest, frantically trying to break from the cage of your ribs. He pulled through the old campground, the one you’d been on before your car had mysteriously broken down. 

You couldn’t remember who it was you were with. What their names were.

You’re halfway certain one of them had been a lover. His name lost to the past. 

Bo pulls onto the highway and you brace yourself. You’re not sure for what. Perhaps for him to change his mind, a blade buried in your gut. To start pouring blood down the front of your shirt. Or maybe the car will wreck, divine intervention deciding that neither of you get another day. 

Nothing happens. Bo slams his hand against the truck’s stereo and rock crackles through the speakers. His hand returns to your thigh and he hums along to the music. After a moment you relax, rolling the window down and letting the breeze cool you down. 

He makes it to the city, smaller than where you used to live, but a mammoth compared to Ambrose. You buy groceries, marveling over products you’d forgotten even existed. You finally manage to buy the tampons you like instead of getting lucky that another woman has them in her bag. 

You harass him into letting you go to a secondhand store, buying a shirt for you. Yours and yours alone. It’s simple, long sleeved and white, nothing special, but it means everything to you. When you make it back to Ambrose, the familiar stifling air and aged walls, you bury the shirt in your dresser. 

You’ll never wear it and never part with it. This shirt will never be anyone else’s but yours. You’ll never allow another woman to get her hands on it. Even when you’re gone you’ll protect it. 

“What do you think?”

Bo shrugged, taking another swig of his beer as his eyes roved over the journal in his hand. You sat on the edge of your seat, eagerly watching him read. Perhaps a bit too eagerly, he sensed it, pouncing on the chance to make you vulnerable. 

“You know I don’t read much, baby.”

You rolled your eyes and moved to sit next to him. “I’m aware, it’s real sad, Bo. Now,” you nudged his shoulder with your own. “What do you think?”

He chuckled, marking the page and tossing it on the coffee table. His legs spread and you took the invitation, slotting yourself in his lap and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He grinned up at you, “It was good. Real fuckin’ good.”

You smiled, cheeks puffing out with the force of it. “Really?”

He nodded his head, “Mhm.” He leaned forward, taking you with him, and placed his beer on the table. You reached behind yourself, blindly readjusting it onto a coaster. He rolled his eyes, but you saw the fondness in them. 

His hands moved down your back, squeezing your ass before they landed on your thighs. Rough calluses spread along smooth skin and goosebumps prickled under his touch. You don’t know why you let him read the strange disjointed novel you’d been writing. 

Maybe because you knew no one would ever see it. Maybe you wanted some part of yourself permanently embedded into his brain. Either way, you enjoyed the way his face changed as he took it in. The expressions shifting with each new sentence. 

“You got a fucked up little mind, you know that?”

You hummed, nodding your head and leaning forward to slot your lips against his own. It was his own fault you were like this. He’d bent you, broke you down, used you until you were a shadow of the woman who used to exist within your body. 

Maybe he had won. 

There was a part of you, a spirit, floating somewhere beneath his garage, that had once belonged to you. 

You ground your hips down against his, biting down on his lip until copper flooded your mouth. He didn’t get angry, just gripped your hair and moved you both to the cushions. He groaned into your open mouth, pinning your body below his and manipulating you how he wanted. 

Then again, maybe you’d ruined him too. 

You shouldn’t be alive. You shouldn’t still have a throat to drag air down, but here you were. Shoving against him and forcing him to submit to your whims. You weren’t the only one who’d changed, and you both knew it. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie House of Wax (2005), but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.