HEAR ME OUT!!!!

HEAR ME OUT!!!!

Barb is literally fit af (If she wasn’t a walking red flag)! I have this little thought that Coop and Barb would totally share someone (in my delusional universe), who’s wayyyy more innocent and inexperienced, and that is literally all I can think about! It’s obviously up to you with what you do with this, but I literally needed to get this out of my system. Love you lots babes and wishing you well 🫶🏻

A/N: First of all, how dare you? I don’t even like Barb. But I read this ask, scoffed, and went about my day. Sadly, it has needled its way into my brain and it’s all I’ve been able to think about. I can’t even write the next chapter of my current story. So, anon, I hope you’re proud of yourself. Here you go:

(Love you too, I guess)

SFW:

I imagine a situation like this stems from Cooper’s attraction to you. 

Barb hasn’t really ever considered bringing a third party into their marriage, because for the most part they’re happy. 

If this is before Vault-tec, you’re a little happy go lucky PA working on one of Cooper’s sets. 

He likes how inexperienced you are in the industry and in life in general. His wife is one competent, confident woman, and he loves that about her. But Fallout is set in an era similar to the fifties, he wants to feel needed, to feel like a real man. 

You provide that for him. You are someone he can guide and mold. You’re enamored by him, practically worship him because he is the Cooper Howard. 

Barb sees this, sees the way her husband watches you like you’re something precious and vice versa the way you follow his every word like gospel. She rolls her eyes at it at first. This is the way of men, distracted whenever a pretty young thing like you comes around. But then he starts inviting you over to the house and she gets to know you. 

You really are sweet. You think the both of them are so amazing. You gush about how incredible both of their successful careers are and she loves the little ego boost. 

To avoid any friction in their marriage she softens up around you and lets you over to the house more often. But eventually it changes from just reluctantly letting Cooper invite you over to spending one on one time with you. 

You stop becoming a chore for her and become just as much of a treat as you are for her husband. 

I don’t think they ever have a real conversation about your role in their relationship. 

They’ve been married for so long that they don’t need words to understand each other. You’re simply a part of their life now, something that belongs to them both. 

For Cooper you provide the much needed feeling of having someone to take care of and guide. 

For Barb you’re someone she can relax around. She doesn’t need to prove herself or her worth to you, you just innately understand her. 

(very slight) NSFW:

If this is during the tumultuous Vault-Tec period of their relationship, I think this dynamic would be more sexual in nature. 

Barb needs Cooper under control. She can’t risk losing her husband during the nuclear fallout but her leash has been slipping and he’s getting suspicious. 

Then comes you, one of the interns that likes to follow her around and eagerly fetch her coffee. You’re attractive, eager to please, and wholly unused to the way the world around you works. 

You’re not truly aware of how evil the company you work for is. You’d taken the job to prove yourself. You’re not some naive idiot that just follows others blindly. 

But you are. 

She invites you over to dinner, not sure what she’s going to do with you. But you’re hot and would readily spread your legs for two icons like the Howard’s, she’s sure its going to come in handy. 

Her and Cooper have discussed this before, when sex seemed to get a little too boring after being married for so long. But nothing ever came of it. Now, you’re a little surprise for him (and an incentive to keep his mouth shut and just listen to what she says)

Under normal circumstances their sex is pretty vanilla as they haven’t really been clicking like they used to. Cooper’s normally in control. 

And that remains true for you, the both of them guide you and use your lack of experience against you to get you to obey. 

But Barb runs shit when it comes to Cooper. This is a part of the deal. He gets to have the threesome of his dreams, all he has to do is listen to her. 

She knows best after all. 

Hope this doesn’t suck <3

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

Oh lord don’t encourage the heathens in my inbox please lol

HEAR ME OUT!!!!

Barb is literally fit af (If she wasn’t a walking red flag)! I have this little thought that Coop and Barb would totally share someone (in my delusional universe), who’s wayyyy more innocent and inexperienced, and that is literally all I can think about! It’s obviously up to you with what you do with this, but I literally needed to get this out of my system. Love you lots babes and wishing you well 🫶🏻

A/N: First of all, how dare you? I don’t even like Barb. But I read this ask, scoffed, and went about my day. Sadly, it has needled its way into my brain and it’s all I’ve been able to think about. I can’t even write the next chapter of my current story. So, anon, I hope you’re proud of yourself. Here you go:

(Love you too, I guess)

SFW:

I imagine a situation like this stems from Cooper’s attraction to you. 

Barb hasn’t really ever considered bringing a third party into their marriage, because for the most part they’re happy. 

If this is before Vault-tec, you’re a little happy go lucky PA working on one of Cooper’s sets. 

He likes how inexperienced you are in the industry and in life in general. His wife is one competent, confident woman, and he loves that about her. But Fallout is set in an era similar to the fifties, he wants to feel needed, to feel like a real man. 

You provide that for him. You are someone he can guide and mold. You’re enamored by him, practically worship him because he is the Cooper Howard. 

Barb sees this, sees the way her husband watches you like you’re something precious and vice versa the way you follow his every word like gospel. She rolls her eyes at it at first. This is the way of men, distracted whenever a pretty young thing like you comes around. But then he starts inviting you over to the house and she gets to know you. 

You really are sweet. You think the both of them are so amazing. You gush about how incredible both of their successful careers are and she loves the little ego boost. 

To avoid any friction in their marriage she softens up around you and lets you over to the house more often. But eventually it changes from just reluctantly letting Cooper invite you over to spending one on one time with you. 

You stop becoming a chore for her and become just as much of a treat as you are for her husband. 

I don’t think they ever have a real conversation about your role in their relationship. 

They’ve been married for so long that they don’t need words to understand each other. You’re simply a part of their life now, something that belongs to them both. 

For Cooper you provide the much needed feeling of having someone to take care of and guide. 

For Barb you’re someone she can relax around. She doesn’t need to prove herself or her worth to you, you just innately understand her. 

(very slight) NSFW:

If this is during the tumultuous Vault-Tec period of their relationship, I think this dynamic would be more sexual in nature. 

Barb needs Cooper under control. She can’t risk losing her husband during the nuclear fallout but her leash has been slipping and he’s getting suspicious. 

Then comes you, one of the interns that likes to follow her around and eagerly fetch her coffee. You’re attractive, eager to please, and wholly unused to the way the world around you works. 

You’re not truly aware of how evil the company you work for is. You’d taken the job to prove yourself. You’re not some naive idiot that just follows others blindly. 

But you are. 

She invites you over to dinner, not sure what she’s going to do with you. But you’re hot and would readily spread your legs for two icons like the Howard’s, she’s sure its going to come in handy. 

Her and Cooper have discussed this before, when sex seemed to get a little too boring after being married for so long. But nothing ever came of it. Now, you’re a little surprise for him (and an incentive to keep his mouth shut and just listen to what she says)

Under normal circumstances their sex is pretty vanilla as they haven’t really been clicking like they used to. Cooper’s normally in control. 

And that remains true for you, the both of them guide you and use your lack of experience against you to get you to obey. 

But Barb runs shit when it comes to Cooper. This is a part of the deal. He gets to have the threesome of his dreams, all he has to do is listen to her. 

She knows best after all. 

Hope this doesn’t suck <3

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

Million Dollar Man

Previous part / Next part

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The Ghoul x fem!reader Summary: Shot, choked out, nearly gotten your throat ripped out by a feral ghoul. It’s barely even been forty eight hours on the surface.

Red carpets are overwhelming. You don’t have to walk them, thankfully, but you do have to accompany Cooper. It’s not explicitly required of you as his assistant, and honestly you think Barb would prefer if you didn’t. But he’d started taking you along after you’d admitted to wanting to go to one of his premieres. After that it became a sort of habit. 

Normally, you don’t have to participate. You linger behind interviewers or photographers and wait for him to enter into the theater with you. Tonight, however, Barb was sick. Nothing too horrific, a simple stomach bug that kept her at home. That’s what Cooper thought, at least. You know that she actually has to have an emergency meeting with one of Vault-Tec’s higher ups. There’s been some concerns raised about some of the experiments that she has to do damage control on. 

You’re almost nauseous at the thought that while you’re about to walk the carpet she’s arguing about whether or not children should be executed or experimented on in Vault 130. 

You’d spent most of your paycheck on this ridiculous red dress because Cooper insisted you join him tonight. He didn’t want to be dateless, joking that someone like him should always have a pretty lady on his arm.

You know he was just screwing with you, needling you to get you to agree to come. But you’d seen how much he really wanted you with him and how much Barb didn’t. Her right eye had twitched near imperceptibly at the suggestion and her smile had turned thin and strained. And that petty part of you that despises her for what she’s doing to Cooper, and making you do, had agreed just to piss her off. 

Standing on the carpet with him now, though, his hand hovering over your lower back and a respectable distance between you two, you felt sick.  He’d made it clear to those speaking to him and calling out questions that you were simply his friend, nothing more. He didn’t say assistant, employee, or poor girl that he’d roped into this. He said friend. He was foolishly opening himself up to the risk of a scandal. 

And he didn’t seem to care. 

One woman’s eyes hadn’t left you since you’d joined him at his side. She was glaring holes into you, bitter jealousy and suspicion clear in her gaze. She would kill to be in your position yet would still tear you down later in her pathetic little tabloid. Out of instinct you tried to inch away from Cooper, the plastic smile on your face faltering slightly. 

He glanced over at you through the side of his eyes, his own smile twitching with discontent. His hand came up to your shoulders, fingers splaying across your back, one of them slipping under the skimpy strap of your dress. You inhaled sharply at the contact, warmth blooming everywhere he touched. He seemed to have noticed your reaction if his pleased expression was anything to go by. 

His hand slipped around your arm, tugging you into his side. It was almost comical how many more camera flashes went off at the move. He laughed slightly, the noise low and sending chills down your spine. You couldn’t help yourself, shamelessly indulging as you wrapped your own arm around his waist. His grip on you tightened for a moment before you both relaxed into the other’s touch. 

Scandals be damned. 

It almost felt like he was messing with you. You kept running, breath coming out in short painful bursts. You felt like your chest was going to cave in the longer you went. You couldn’t falter for a second, you could hear him laughing behind you. The cruel noise echoed up above you in the trees and haunted you the further you got. 

You’re sure he could have caught up with you by now, he was teasing you. Taunting you with freedom before that horrible rope of his was back around you again. It was ironic, honestly, considering how attractive you used to find him when he did those lasso tricks in his old movies. 

“You can run sweetheart! But you won’t ever be able to hide from me, not out here!”

“Fuck off,” is what you wanted to say. But at the moment you were pretty fucking busy with just keeping yourself upright. You weren’t sure how long you’d been running, could have been ten minutes, could have been an hour. By this point the sound of branches cracking under your feet and the leaves rustling above you was just one high pitched ringing in your ears. 

Your blood was pumping so hard all you could really hear was the muddied sound of your heart pumping inside you. The loud bang didn’t register until you were flying forward. Your hands slide across the forest floor, palms scraping sharply against the rocks and twigs. 

The adrenaline in you is pumping so hard, your instinct for survival blocking out everything else, that you don’t register any pain. You scramble back to your feet, boots slipping in mud you hadn’t noticed before as you do, and shoot off again. 

You can hear him growing a bit more distant, voice fading away to nothing the more distance you put between the two of you. He must have had to stop to fire off his gun, you’re sure it’s the only reason you manage to get away from him. 

Still, you don’t let yourself stop or take a moment’s reprieve. You keep running until you can feel the impact of the ground inside your bones. You keep moving even as your blood burns with exhaust under your skin.

You’re completely turned around, not even letting yourself have a second to check your Pip-Boy. Eventually, when you break through the border of the forest, you find yourself in an area that looks more civilized than you were expecting. It’s all cracked pavement and crumbling buildings, but at the very least it’s not an endless wasteland of red sand. 

Through cracks in old cement you can see life beginning to grow through the old dredges of humanity. You’ve completely lost sight of Cooper. You’d like to believe he’s giving up, but you know him better than that. He’s nothing if not stubborn. Still, you allow yourself to slow down slightly. 

You jog through an old neighborhood, looking for anywhere that seems safe enough to squat in. But in every house you pass you can spot Radroaches or hear something that sounds inhuman. You’d rather not risk it when the only weapon you have on you is a knife. Plus, you’re completely exhausted from the chase. You can feel yourself slowly losing steam, the only thing that’s keeping you going now is pure adrenaline. 

You hear a loud screech to your left and your head whips towards it. Nothing comes out of the dilapidated house but you can hear the floorboards creaking with the weight of whatever is inside. The noises echo through the neighborhood and it’s only then that you notice how dark the sky is growing. You haven’t been on the surface very long, but you can assume it’s better not to be caught unawares in the dark. 

You keep your eyes on the house, blindly stumbling backwards as fear courses through you. It nearly has you frozen in place. Images of inconceivable horrors darting through your mind as you consider what could be waiting for you in the house. Your heart is racing again and you turn around, bolting down the street. 

It sounds like a bomb goes off behind you and you duck instinctively. Your feet catch on an upraised root in the ground and you go tumbling forward. Your arms spin uselessly by your sides as your feet scramble for purchase on the pavement. You manage to right yourself, turning around just long enough to catch something that looks like a ram fucked a T-Rex. It hasn’t spotted you yet, it’s head tilted further into the neighborhood as the destruction of the old house surrounds it. 

You glance around desperately, trying to find anywhere you could hide. You recognized its form, a Deathclaw. Another one of Vault-Tec’s special projects. A collaboration with the US military and their scientists to create the next great bio weapon. A knife wouldn’t do anything to it except piss it off. 

Not too far from you, you can see a bright red sign. An old Red Rocket gas station that should be good enough to hide out in while you wait for the Deathclaw to move on. You move slowly, backing away while you keep your eyes trained on the beast. It’s only then that you start to notice an odd tingling sensation in your right thigh. It almost feels like a bee sting. You don’t have time to worry about it now, though. 

The Deathclaw’s head turns, nose pointed up in the air while it sniffs around. You take the risky move of turning your back to it and bolt towards the safety of the gas station. You move with a slight limp, your right leg dragging behind you as a cramp begins to take hold of your thigh. You groan through your teeth, reaching down and holding onto it like you can force it to keep moving. You’re surprised by the wet warmth you feel when you touch the pants of your suit. 

You crash into the door of the gas station and rush inside. You slam it closed behind you and lean against it, letting out a long relieved rush of breath. You finally let yourself slump, your muscles going lax and losing the tension they’d been holding for the past few hours. You slide down the door and fall onto the filthy floor, dust rising up around you as you do. The adrenaline you’d been so heavily relying on is starting to wane as your exhaustion crashes down on you. 

You pull your hand off your thigh and glance down on it. You almost feel disconnected from your body when you see the blood coating it. The bang you’d heard in the woods earlier, Cooper shooting off his gun. You’d foolishly thought that he’d just been firing around you or into the sky, like he was trying to frighten you. 

Your voice is small as you speak, a surprised whisper, “He fucking shot me.” Your head thuds against the door and you clench your eyes shut. The adrenaline must have been the only thing keeping you going. You hadn’t even felt the bullet make contact. The cramp in your thigh begins to get more intense, you feel like your leg is being bent backward and another second of pressure is going to break it. 

You grit your teeth, bloody hand slipping against the door as you force yourself to your feet. Your foot’s going cold and you need to find something to stop the bleeding before you lose any more blood. It’s a dull throbbing ache now, it’s only going to get worse the longer it goes untreated. You’d had a plethora of Stimpaks, but Cooper had tossed those to the forest floor like they were nothing. 

You suppose to him they are nothing. 

You put your weight on your left leg and begin to hobble through the gas station, hoping to find something useful. The entire place has been raided, the aisles overturned and the shelves are bare. You’re sure there used to be supplies here but they’re long gone. The only interesting thing that catches your eye is a radio on the counter. It’s right near a back door. 

If you’re lucky - which clearly you aren’t - there will be something good behind the door. You clutch onto the counter for support, cold sweat beading on your temple as the pain in your leg intensifies. You flip through the stations of the radio, hoping to pick up a helpful radio wave. 

“-friendly reminder that I don’t take requests. So, please, don’t try and visit me anymore.” The ear grating sound of fiddles fills the empty shop and you jump back in surprise. Of fucking course. The only radio station for a hundred miles and he only plays fiddle music. You go to turn the radio off but a loud clatter coming from behind the closed door stops you. 

Your hand moves from the radio knob to the crowbar on the counter and you limp towards the door. You press your ear against the cool metal but don’t hear anything else. Clutching the cold iron of the crowbar close to your chest you slowly pulled the door open. It creaked and you winced but you barely had time to process that before something was screaming and lunging at you. 

You went flying across the shop, the breath knocked out of you as you slid across the floor. You slammed into the refrigerated walls and rolled onto your hands and knees. Blood followed the trail your body made, still leaking from your thigh. You caught sight of disjointed feet rushing towards you and had half a second to react to the ghoul that lunged for you. The crowbar was swinging before you could think about it. 

Iron met skull and the dull, wet, thud had you cringing. There was a brief squeal before the feral ghoul dropped to the ground, arms and legs twitching around wildly. “Fuck me running,” you muttered, wincing as you dragged yourself back to your feet. Two more were waiting in the doorway for you and you briefly wondered if you should just kill yourself. Seemed easier than dealing with all this bullshit. 

But you were inclined to saving your ass, so you tighten your grip on the crowbar and wait for them to come to you. The second one was easy enough to deal with. You swung the bar against their jaw so hard half of it fell to the floor with a bloody splat. Then you brought it over the top of their head until you could see brains and it crumpled to the floor. 

But your strength was waning, any reserves you had of adrenaline were drained. You stumbled against the wall as the third lunged at you. It took everything you had to simply keep its rotted teeth away from your neck. Your arms trembled from the strain and your hands slipped against their neck as they snapped their teeth loudly. You pushed against them in vain, any strength you had was gone. 

Their head snapped to the side and your ears rang as a shot went off. The ghoul crumpled near your feet and you stared wide eyed down at the blood pooling out from under it. You looked to the right and saw Lucy standing at the door, gun in hand and eyes wide as she stared at the ghoul by your feet. 

“Lucy?” You spotted what she was holding and frowned, “Is that a head?”

Credit where credit is due. He’d never seen someone run off a bullet wound before. She’d barely even tripped before she was bolting through the trees again. He watched her flying over the roots and jumping around bushes of stinging leaves with a grin on his face. “Run rabbit run!” He shouted after her, laughing when he heard her fall again. 

He stopped, eyes darting down to the small pool of blood she’d left behind. He could follow the prints her boots left in the mud, and when he lost those, he could just follow the blood. The sight of it brought him more satisfaction than it should have. But along with it came the rage that she’d even managed to get away at all. 

He should have known she would try and fight back. He’d been hoping she would be unprepared for the surface, but Vault-Tec would never let their little soldiers out without knowing how to fight. They were meant to re-dominate the world after all. 

He forces himself to slow down, to savor the chase. It’s so rare that he gets to do anything but wait with his targets. He was going to milk this for all it was worth. He couldn’t wait until he got her cornered, snared like a wild animal. He’d love to see how she would try to fight back then. 

He follows the tracks and feels himself growing antsy. She doesn’t know the area, that much is clear. If she did, she wouldn’t be running towards a well known Deathclaw nest. Not much can do him real harm. Bullets, arrows, knives, pretty much anything can go through him and he’ll live. But there’s only so much healing you can do when a Deathclaw is ripping your arms off. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, watching as her prints dissapear and small dribbles of blood lead into an abandoned neighborhood. It’s getting dark, he’ll lose sight of the trail soon. If he follows it into the neighborhood there’s a good chance that she’ll already be dead. Either from blood loss or from running up on a Deathclaw in its home. He’s risking his own hide for nothing more than revenge. 

If he waits any longer he’ll have to camp for the night and there’s a chance he might not catch up to her again. He tugs the pistol out of its holster and keeps an eye out for any hulking beasts that might try and delimb him. 

There’s a pile of broken wood and glass in the middle of the road. Remnants of an old house. He can only assume it's the work of the Deathclaw, nothing else has half as much a penchant for destruction. He skirts around it, following the blood down the hill towards an old gas station. 

The dog he picked up in Filly runs up ahead of him, catching a scent and following it. He can only wonder what’s set it off but it’s not his main priority. If the damn thing runs off then so be it. The closer he gets to the station the more he can make out voices. There’s a light glowing through the window, flickering to life like a fire would. Among the voices is the staticky sound of fiddles playing. 

The music he recognizes as the work of the intolerable DJ he ran into a few months back. Man had his station boobytrapped halfway to hell. As annoying as his music was, he wasn’t worth the hassle to kill. He wished he had now, though. Just the brief bit he has to listen to is enough to drive him mad. 

Dogmeat barks and the voices go quiet. “Fucking dog,” he mutters. He doesn’t give them any time to prepare. He busts through the door, guns drawn and points them at the two women on the floor. Two-in-one, he gets the head and the girl. 

She glares up at him, hand wrapped around her bloody thigh. “You found me.”

He gives her a mean grin, cocking the hammer of his gun back. She braces herself but he points it at her little friend instead. “You can run, but you can’t hide from me sweetheart.”

Cooper led her into the theater. He couldn’t help but laugh at the way she visibly deflated. Her shoulders slouched forward and she lost some of the faux confidence she’d been forcing for the cameras. He almost felt a little guilty for dragging her along with him, but not by too much. 

When Barb had said she couldn't make it, well, he hadn’t hesitated. As horrible as it is, he’d been wanting her on his arm for a while. Could anyone really blame him? She was gorgeous, and it wasn’t all physical. There was a fight, a spirit, in her that he adored. It created a certain spark in her eye that had drawn him the first moment he met her. 

And still, in front of all of those cameras it was the first time he’d ever really seen her look unsure of herself. Indulging more than he should, he kept his arm around her, thumb idly smoothing over her bare skin. “You alright, sweetheart?”

She glanced up at him, lips parted and looking like she’d forgotten he was standing there with her. The odd sadness in her gaze disappeared, shuttered away behind her walls. She put on a tense smile and hummed, “Yep. I’m fine.” She took in a deep breath and straightened herself, looking more like the woman he recognized. “Just never really been a fan of cameras, especially not that many.” A weak chuckle and then she ducked out from under his arm using the guise of needing the washroom. 

He sighed, immediately feeling the absence of her body pressed against his. There was a clear lack of warmth as she walked away from him and the distance between them seemed larger than it should. “Mr. Howard?” Cooper turned around, a young woman was waiting behind him with a notepad in hand. He recognized her as one of the producer’s daughters and immediately turned on his charm. 

“Yes?”

She nearly blushed at the direct attention and eagerly held out the pen and paper. “Could I please have you autograph? I’m one of your biggest fans!” Meeting girls like her was one of his favorite parts of doing these premieres. They were always so kind and excited, waiting to meet him like he was some sort of hero. Sometimes it felt like he received the sort of attention as an actor that he should have when he was in the war. 

He smiled and reached for the paper, quickly signing off his signature. It had been one of the harder parts to adjust to when he first started acting, trying to get his signature right. Now, he didn’t even have to look at the paper to do it. The girl started rattling off her favorite movies of his, asking him questions he wasn’t really hearing. He knew he should be paying attention, it never does well to ignore producers' kids. 

But he sees his date moving into the theater out of the corner of his eye and suddenly can’t be bothered with the girl. He hands her the notebook back, cutting her off as he bids her goodbye and walks after the woman he’s eager to speak with again. A P.A. jumps in front of him before he can get very far. “Mr. Howard,” his smile is strained and they sound tense. Clearly, he’d been looking for him for a while. “You’re needed up front.”

She sits in the back of the theater, clearly tired of being front and center the whole night. Again, there’s that little pang of guilt in his chest that he’d dragged her out here. But it disappears as she takes her seat and the slit of her dress slides up her thigh. He jerks his head back towards the stage and focuses on just getting through his little speech. He thanks his supporters, introduces the movies, and the second he gets the signal is beelining towards her. 

She gives him a surprised look when he lands in front of her. “Aren’t you supposed to be up there with them?” She phrases it like a question but the tone of her voice sounds like a demand. He should be up front with the other actors and executives, but she isn’t. The only way he’s getting through tonight is if he can talk to her during the movie. 

He doesn’t often like revisiting his movies. He finds that if he watches them too much he starts to get too critical. He’ll pick apart every line, every action and expression. Eventually he’ll wear himself down and tire himself out by being too picky. 

He shakes his head and takes a seat beside her, arm resting on the bar between them. He unbuttons his suit jacket and leans back, letting out a tired breath. He’s been in the public eye a little bit more lately with this whole Vault-Tec partnership. He’s hoping he can take a break after tonight. Maybe spend more time with his family. 

Of course that means spending less time with her. 

The lights of the theater dim and the crowd quiets from its earlier rush of excitement. She leans back into her seat with an annoyed huff and one last lingering glare before diverting her attention to the start of the movie. He can hear the boot spurs ringing through the speakers, his own voice calling out to the villain of the flick. 

But he can’t take his eyes off of her. The annoyance had disappeared fast from her gaze, never really there to begin with. She’s got this sparkle in her eye and a sort of subdued excitement that pleases him to see. She can try and deny it as much as she wants, but he knows that she is one of his oldest fans. She gets a starstruck look everytime she sees one of his movies. 

But she doesn’t give him that same look, just the movies. 

Without thinking his hand reaches for her own. He doesn’t know why he does it, what could possibly possess him to do something so stupid. But she looked so damn beautiful tonight, he just couldn’t help himself. Her hand, however, happens to be on her thigh. 

He’d meant it to be a friendly gesture. But he was so busy admiring her he missed and his hand clasped around her upper thigh instead. He doesn’t hate the feel of her skin under his. The brush of silk from her dress and the warmth emanating from her. He should, he’s a married man after all. But she seems like such a perfect fit in every aspect of his life that he can’t ever imagine any part of their relationship being wrong. Even such an intimate touch like this feels right to him. 

He expects her to get upset, swat him off of her. She should, she has every right too. Instead, she places her own hand on top of his. She’s yet to look away from the screen, barely even twitching when he touches her. Her eyes are on the larger than life image of him, but her attention is solely focused on Cooper. 

She leans closer into him slightly and he can smell the sweet perfume she’d spritzed tonight. It drives him insane, how deeply attached he’s become to her. He recognizes that this isn’t her normal perfume and he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t know what perfume she wears, what her favorite nail color is or the exact shade of her everyday lipstick. But he does, he recognizes it all. Knows her better than he knows himself sometimes. 

It should surprise him. Him touching her should surprise her. But it doesn’t. Because on some level, they both know this is how it’s meant to be. They’re meant to be together, even if they shouldn’t be. He finally tears his eyes off of her, squeezing her leg slightly and she does the same to his hand. 

A secret message between the two.

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.

- Belle - 21 -

I’ve been writing fanfiction in my head for years but just started publishing it in 2023

I mainly do series, I’m not a huge fan of one-shots because my stories are constantly evolving. That doesn’t mean I don’t love a good ficlet, it’s just not my specialty.

I have eclectic tastes in the media I consume because my mom was a film major so I grew up on a lot of different stuff.

Top fandoms (doesn’t mean I’m going to write for all of them, they’re just my favorites):

- Harry Potter

- Detroit: Become Human

- Game of Thrones

- House of the Dragon

- Fallout

- American Horror Story

- The Hobbit

- Buffy The Vampire Slayer

- Lost Boys

I’ll write for pretty much anything and everything. Including small fandoms that might be a little nonexistent fanfiction wise. Just remember, this is a safe-space for everyone, so no hate.

The End of the Beginning

Previous Part / Next Part

Cooper Howard x fem!reader A/N: I’m going to use my How About a Nuke? taglist for my Cooper Howard one shots/stories from now on. If you do not want to be on the taglist, please let me know and I will remove you immediately. I’m considering writing some more for these two, let me know what you think in the comments.

Summary: You don’t know how it starts. But you know how it ends. 

There’s not a specific moment where you can pinpoint how this whole sordid affair began. Not a true affair, in your own defense. Nothing physical ever happened between the two of you, but what did happen was somehow almost worse.

Maybe it was when Bud first introduced you to him or when you began to eat dinners with his family. It could have been the times he would randomly drop by your home for a drink, you’re not sure. It doesn’t even matter, you know that no matter what it never would have ended well for either of you. 

“Mr. Howard, it is a pleasure.” The man in front of Cooper is someone he should recognize, he knows he’s met him before. But his face could blend into any crowd, he’s drawing a blank and failing not to let it show. 

“How’re you,” the question trails off awkwardly and the woman beside the man is clearly trying to hide a smile. 

“Uh, Bud,” he offers up, his smile waning slightly, “Bud Askins. We met a couple of weeks ago.” He’s grasping at straws, eyes desperate for some sense of familiarity within Cooper’s own gaze. He would feel bad for him, but something about this man sets Cooper on edge. 

“Bud,” Cooper offers him the kind of smile he gives every fan and it does the trick like usual. Bud lets out a sigh of relief and shakes Cooper’s hand with a vigor that rattles his teeth. The woman clears her throat, glaring at the back of Bud’s head. 

He finally remembers himself and turns towards her. “Right, my apologies.” Bud moves back and she steps forward, her hand outstretched towards Cooper. She’s got a disarming smile which is a nice change from Bud’s overeager one. 

She seems happy to have met him, but not the starstruck joy he’s used to. It’s refreshing to not have someone be eagerly shouting at him what his favorite movie of theirs is. She offers him her name and he repeats it, liking the way it feels when he says it. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

She doesn’t get offended by the brusque question. She drops his hand and glances back at Bud, “I work for Mr. Askins. I’ll be helping you in adjusting to your new Vault-Tec life.”

He frowns, brows furrowed in confusion at the way she phrases her answer. “Vault-Tec life? I thought this was just meant to be some ads, a few billboards maybe.” He chuckles, hoping to ease the tone of the conversation, but they don’t buy it. She shares a concerned look with Bud and they glance back at Cooper before whispering something to each other. 

Bud listens to her speak, but his gaze stays locked on Cooper. He doesn’t look happy anymore, if anything he looks concerned. Cooper sighs and wonders, not for the first time, what Barb has gotten him into. As if summoning her, his wife pops up behind him. 

She wraps an arm through his and he feels himself easing back into her touch, hoping she can provide some clarity. “I see you’ve met Bud and his assistant.” There’s an odd tone to her words when she addresses the other woman. 

Her gaze snaps from Bud’s and she shoots Barb a sharp glare. “I am not Mr. Askins’ assistant.” Barb clears her throat and she winces, quickly amending her statement, “If anything, I believe I might be your husband’s.”

Cooper wraps his arm around Barb’s shoulder and draws her closer to him. She smiles and looks up at him but he can’t find it in himself to return it. With each new development in this Vault-Tec partnership he finds himself growing more and more hostile towards the company. There’s just something about this whole idea that has him unsettled. 

It’s not that he doesn’t see the need for the vaults, he does. If anyone understands the dangers this war is presenting, it’s him. He’d been on the frontlines, he knows just how bad it’s getting out there. But, the way Vault-Tec is going about everything is unsettling. Capitalizing off the American people’s suffering isn’t something he’s interested in endorsing. 

He’s been questioning more and more everyday if that's exactly what he’s doing. 

“That’s the confusion, honey,” he glances down at Barb but she’s sharing a look with the other woman that he can’t understand. “I don’t see why I need an assistant.”

She sighs and finally looks back at him. She laces her fingers through his and gives him a comforting smile, “Let’s go talk.”

You watched as Barb dragged Cooper away from you and Bud. You knew this wasn’t going to go over well. You’re not sure why anyone at the company even listens to Bud’s asinine idea’s anymore. You give your boss a discerning look but he’s still staring after his crush, the Cooper Howard. 

There must be some cunning snake under the surface of this bumbling baboon. You certainly don’t see it, but someone had to have at Vault-Tec for him to have crawled so high up the ladder. You look over your shoulder at Cooper and, not for the first time, a pang of guilt stabs through your stomach. 

Same as everyone else, you idolized Mr. Howard. It was hard not to. He’d fought for your country in the Sino-American War, defending Alaska. And then he came home and instead of protecting America’s citizens, he made it his job to uplift and entertain them. 

He was an incredible man, and if you weren’t so worried about protecting your own ass you’d feel bad for what Vault-Tec’s mission is going to do to him. 

Barb had brought concerns to you and Bud that Cooper was… slipping. She seemed to think his priorities had shifted and he was growing suspicious of Vault-Tec, and by extension her. 

He was right to be suspicious, there wasn’t a day that you weren’t disgusted with yourself for working for who you do. But you also would like to survive this coming nuclear holocaust, so you learned to live with it. 

She seemed to think that giving him an assistant, one of Bud’s Buds, would help get him back on track. You’re not sure why Bud had chosen you for the job, but he seemed to think you would be charming enough to snag Cooper’s attention. 

You were to bond with Mr. Howard, become his friend and gain his trust. When the time came for him to start questioning you about Vault-Tec and their true intentions, you would say something to calm him. 

Essentially, befriend him and then lie to his face and make him think he wasn’t promoting the end of the world. Barb didn’t want her husband to ever learn about the truth of who was really pulling the strings of the war. 

Cooper was led back to you both by Barb with a smile on his face. He seemed more open to you now, too, offering you a polite nod of his head which you returned. “Barb, here, seems to think I need myself a personal assistant.”

You laughed amicably and shrugged, “You’re a busy man, Mr. Howard. I’m just an extra set of hands.”

He shook his head and waved you off, “Call me Cooper, please, it seems like we’ll be spending a lot of time with each other anyway.”

You smiled, your gut twisting with disgust when you saw the earnest look in his eyes, “Cooper.”

“Good morning,” Cooper leaned over Barb’s shoulder, landing a quick peck on her cheek. She smiled and squeezed his arm before glancing at the clock and frowning. He already knew what she was gonna say. He was going to be late. 

He smiled at her, taking a sip of his coffee. She seemed to notice the look on his face because she just sighed and shook her head. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to get away with this anymore.”

He laughed and shrugged, “Why not? It’s a part of my signature, I’m always a few minutes late.”

She glanced down at the Pip-Boy on her arm and something seems to have caught her attention. She let out a haggard breath and put Janey’s lunch box on the counter. “Don’t let her leave without this.” She ran to the front door and Cooper frowned as he watched her run around the house, frantically collecting her things. 

“Where are you going?”

She was already halfway out the door when she called out a quick, “Work emergency.” He shook his head and rinsed his mug out in the sink. He’s had work emergencies before, none of them so urgent he would have left without saying goodbye to their daughter. 

He sucks on his teeth, staring over at the front door. What does she do for Vault-Tec? Had she ever really told him?

Had he ever asked?

His thoughts are interrupted by a series of blaring honks outside his front door. He figures Barb had forgotten her keys in her rush to get out of the house. But when he steps onto the front lawn he sees you parked along the curb, staring expectantly at the door. 

You lift your sunglasses up, your lips tilted up into an easy smile and you wave at him. “Morning, Mr. Cooper,” you shout across the driveway. 

He scoffs and walks towards your convertible. You’ve got the roof tilted down, a scarf wrapped around your hair to keep the style. You light up a cigarette while he approaches. He leans into the car and stares at you with a disbelieving look on his face. 

“What are you doing here?”

“We’ve got a packed schedule today, can’t be late.” Barb’s warning suddenly makes sense now. You, apparently, weren’t the type to let him be a little lazy. 

He’d almost forgotten she’d forced an assistant on him. He’s still not happy with it, feeling like he’s being babysat more than anything else. 

She’d made it clear, though, that there wasn’t much room for arguments when it came to you. He doesn’t understand why she was so adamant about this. Most wives would prefer their husbands didn’t spend all day with such pretty assistants. 

“Barb’s just run out, I’ve got to drop Janey off at school today.” You sigh, face screwing up as he speaks. You flick the cigarette onto the pavement and fiddle with the Pip-Boy you’ve got on your passenger seat. He’s surprised not to see it on your wrist, most Vault-Tec people treat it like a fifth limb. 

You screw around with it for a minute before you finally look back up at him. “We can make it, get her out here.” You toss the Pip-Boy in the back and place your hands on the wheel. You give him an expectant look and he realizes you’re not gonna let him argue with you about this. 

“Aren’t I your boss, darling?”

You scoff, tone sardonic, “Sure, Mr. Howard.” He sighs and finally heads back inside. Janey is more than happy to ride along with you. Cooper less so. You seem keen on breaking every damn speeding law to get him to work on time. He’s not sure he trusts his life in your reckless hands. 

You peel into Janey’s school, practically kick her out of the car, and then you’re off again. “You can slow down, you know.”

You glance over at him, a sly smirk on your lips. “I’m not making you sick, am I?” 

He eases up his grip on the door handle and shakes his head. “I’ve worn a power suit, sweetheart, not much can make me carsick.”

You shrug, “Good, then I think I’ll keep going like this.” He shakes his head, slightly miffed by the insubordination, slightly impressed. It’s nice to have someone who treats him like he’s just another regular Joe. 

Most of his former assistants kissed the ground he walked on and were terrified to say one word against him. It gets tiring after a while, that sort of behavior. He’s seen plenty of his costars let it get to their heads and turn into someone egotistical and vile to be around. He doesn’t want to turn out like that. 

He’s never wanted the fame to twist him into something he isn’t. He has a feeling you don’t let many people walk over you. You also don’t seem to have a problem with being assertive. It’s odd, these behaviors in someone in a position of subordinance. 

Makes him wonder if being an assistant is your actual job, or if Bud had demoted you for some other odd reason. 

“I really don’t want to intrude.”

Cooper waves you off and shakes his head, “Not at all. I’m inviting you, honey.” You sigh and grit your teeth. You know what you’re supposed to say. You’re supposed to thank him and accept the invitation to dinner. 

But being with him everyday for the past few weeks has made it nearly impossible to keep this up. He’s an incredible man, kind and honest to a fault. He’s got such strong principles, to be openly manipulating those against him makes you sick to your stomach. 

You thought you would be able to do this. So many times in your life you’d heard never to meet your heroes. You figured Cooper would be like every other pretentious asshole in Hollywood and you would have no problem lying to his face. 

But he is so much more than that. He’s so much better than the people you work with and for, so much better than you. 

Still, a job is a job. You don’t do this and you’ll be kicked out of Bud’s program and left out with the rest of civilization to burn up when the fallout begins. 

You reason with yourself that by doing this you’re also ensuring Cooper’s safety. As long as he believes in Vaut-Tec, in you, he’ll have a place at the end of the world. 

It doesn’t make you feel any better. 

“Thank you, I’d love to join you.”

He grins at you and walks off to wrap up his last scene of the day. You let out a long breath, slumping against the concession table and rubbing at your forehead. You’re losing sleep over all of this. Your nails are brittle, hair splitting, and health declining with the amount of anxiety and guilt you’ve been carrying around. 

Despite your resolve mentally, you’re really not sure how much longer you can go on like this physically. You’ve always been a horrible liar, especially when you’re lying to people you care about. You should have gotten an Oscar for getting this far with him. 

The drive to Cooper’s home that night is silent. To punish yourself, you don’t turn on the radio and force yourself to wallow in self hatred the whole way there. You berate yourself and come up with about five different reasons to get yourself out of being his assistant. 

But when you knock on the door and see his smiling face you can’t force a word out. He’s so handsome, cleaned up and his hair slicked back. You could get lost in his eyes when he speaks to you. You force yourself to keep your mouth shut and just eat dinner with him. 

Barb keeps sending you appreciative smiles all throughout dinner and you want to stab your fork through her hand. You might be a horrible person for lying to him, but she has to be the worst damn wife you’ve ever met. She claims to be in love with Cooper, to care about him, but the way she manipulates him goes against that. 

You don’t get to claim to love someone and then treat them like that. She won’t even let him take Roosevelt! You know for a fact that animals can go into certain vaults, she just hates that dog. 

“I have to be a good man gone bad in this one.” Cooper explains to Barb. She’d asked after the latest script changes but she didn’t seem wholly interested as she messed with her Pip-Boy. “I don’t really like it, I’m meant to be a sheriff, not a cold-blooded killer.”

Barb scoffs and shakes her head, “Even good men have to make bad decisions, Cooper.”

Cooper straightens up and glares at her. At his silence she finally looks up, her face quickly becoming guarded at the look on his. “Not all of them,” he argues, voice soft. You and Janey glance between the two of them, this goes beyond a simple script change. 

“Well,” Barb goes back to cutting her steak, shaking her head at him, “that’s a very naive way of looking at the world.” She gives him a sharp smile, her eyes empty and cold. 

You’re grateful when Janey passes a piece of broccoli to Roosevelt and the both of them are snapped out of their pseudo argument. Barb snaps at the dog and Cooper laughs, you shrink into your chair, wishing to be anywhere else. 

When dinner is over, you clean up while Cooper and Barb put Janey to bed. You slide open the door to the backyard and tug a cigarette out of your case. You dig around in your bag for a while, nearly breaking down when you can’t find your lighter. 

“Need this?” Fire sparks up before you and Cooper grins as he holds his lighter out. You smile in relief and thank him, sparking up the end and taking a deep inhale. You feel yourself relax slightly, easing off of the meltdown you were about to have. 

Little things keep seeming to build and build on top of you. You’re hanging on by a very thin thread and you’re worried about what’s going to happen when it snaps. “You alright, sweetheart?” He seems genuinely concerned and you can’t even look at him anymore. 

You take a seat and nod, focusing instead on the stars above you. He’s further out from civilization, he’s got a better view of the night sky than you do from your crowded apartment. “Just been a little stressed out lately.”

He sits beside you and reaches over, his hand lands on your thigh and he squeezes. It lasts less than a second, it’s clearly meant to comfort you but it sets your body on fire and you turn away from him slightly. He frowns, an apologetic look on his face and he backs off. 

You can’t find it in yourself to feel guilty. You don’t need to start being attracted to him on top of lying to him. Not when you just scorned Barb for the exact same thing. “I hope I haven’t been adding to that.”

You look over at him and shake your head, “Not at all,” you’re the only reason I’m like this. 

He seems to catch onto what you’re not saying. He might not know exactly why he’s stressing you out, but he’s more perceptive than others give him credit for. Still, he doesn’t say anything. He just nods and takes a swig from the glass of whiskey resting in his lap. 

“Sorry about earlier.”

“What?” He sighs, giving you a look that tells you not to bother playing dumb. You shrug, “Wasn’t the worst fight I’ve ever had to watch.”

He shakes his head and runs a tired hand over his face. “It wasn’t even a fight. That’s what bothers me, she says these little things and sometimes it just goes right over my head.”

You find yourself speaking before you can stop yourself, “It’s only later that you realize she was being cruel.”

He looks over at you and nods. His head tilts in confusion, “You know what I’m talking about?”

You nod, puffing on the cigarette between your fingers before you continue. You feel yourself starting to ease up again, your shoulders finally lowering from their place next to your ears. “Yeah, I’ve got a long list of ex’s like that.” Your mouth snaps closed when you realize what you said. 

You probably shouldn’t be saying ex to the man you’re trying to keep with his wife. But he doesn’t get upset, he only sighs. The sound is resigned, like you’re only confirming something he already knew to be true. 

“You don’t seem very happy,” Cooper glanced over his shoulder and spotted you. You had your heels in your hand, making your way across his back deck to stand next to him at the pool. You drop the heels on one of his lawn chairs and sit down to dip your legs in the pool. 

He stays standing, staring down at you. You look up and offer him a tired grin. You must have been about as sick of this as he was. After a minute he finally sat down beside you. “Can’t say I’m pleased to have all these people in my house.”

You both glanced back at the party. Dozens of Vault-Tec employees streamed in and out of his living room, their voices carrying, even back to where you and Cooper were hidden away. He hated this, feeling out of place in his home. 

“None of your friend’s wanted to come?” You glance over at him, a concerned look on your face. He appreciates it, your concern for his comfort, especially considering Barb doesn't seem to care for it at all. She hadn’t asked if he was okay with this, or comfortable with this wrap party. She’d simply gone ahead with it and then sprung it on him. 

“Seb was here a while ago but he left.” He scoffed and threw back the rest of his drink. “Can’t say I blame him, if it wasn’t my house I would have left hours ago.” 

You shrugs, “Let’s go.” You’re staring at him, eyes wide and earnest like it’s the simplest solution in the world. 

He laughs, more surprised than anything, “What?”

You stand up, tugging your heels back on and holding a hand out to him. “Let’s leave. I can’t say I’m very happy to be here either.”

He argues, “These are your coworkers, sweetheart.” But he still takes your hand, getting back to his feet and letting you lead him through his back gate. You tug your keys out of your purse, sliding into your little convertible and giving him an eager smile while you wait for him to follow. 

“They're a bunch of vultures, Coop. Let’s just get out of here.” Hearing you use his nickname affects him more than he wants it too. Affection has been few and far between at the house lately, he finds himself leaning into it when you offer it more than he should. 

Things are tense between Barb and himself, but he’s still a married man. He shouldn’t get so happy when you call him Coop. And he really shouldn’t be leaving his wife behind at this ridiculous fucking party and getting in your car. But he finds himself going against his better knowledge and following anyway. 

He doesn't ask where you’re taking him. He doesn’t even care, he just wants to be near you. You’re kind, you don’t judge him. You leave him feeling a little weightless everytime you snap one of your witty little retorts at him. He’s charmed by you, more than he should be, but he can’t bring himself to be bothered by it. 

You’re eating shitty junk food and sipping on Nuka-Cola’s in the back of your convertible. Cooper kind of feels like a teenager again. It’s been a long time since he’s had some decent greasy burgers. Barb doesn’t like bringing fast food into the house and it’s been a while since he and Janey have snuck some on the way home from school. 

You’ve parked your car in the desolate parking lot of the closed shopping center. You’re both quiet, staring up at the stars or the bright flashing billboards across from you. Cooper glances over at you and curiosity gets the better of him. 

“How’d you end up working for Vault-Tec?” You give him a questioning look and he shrugs, taking a sip from his bottle. “Just doesn’t seem like your sort of company.” You seem too kind for them, too compassionate. 

“I, um,” you chuckle, swiping away some condensation that had dripped onto your bare thigh and Cooper follows the movement lazily. “I got swept up in the war time efforts. There were a bunch of campaigns to get women to start assisting during the war.” You rolled your eyes and laughed, “The Nuka-Cola girl roped me in with her patriotism and I found myself at a plant assembling your power suits.”

Cooper’s shoulders tense up and he has to fight off a nasty retort. You catch his gaze and flinch away from it slightly. He doesn’t blame you for all the faulty defects in those suits, but he’d watched good men and women die on the frontlines because of those damn things. It’s hard not to get angry when they’re mentioned, especially because they’d told them the suits weren’t safe. The government forced them into them anyway.

”I know, there were a lot of defects. A lot of people died because of those suits. That’s how Bud discovered me actually, I raised hell with my supervisor. I tried to get them to fix the issue or just stop manufacturing them. We were wasting good supplies on death traps.”

You shook your head and sighed, “It didn’t matter what I said. They never stopped making them. But, Bud, liked my fire. He thought it showed good leadership skills that I was so willing to stand up for what I belived in. He took me to Vault-Tec when he left the suits behind.” You took in a deep shuddering breath, for a moment Cooper could swear he saw tears in your eyes. “I always seem to work for the wrong side.”

He’d been reaching out, hoping to offer some comfort, when his hand stopped. It dropped back down to his side and he glared at you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Your eyes widened and you froze, seemingly caught off guard. “What?”

“‘I always seem to work for the wrong side.’ What’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?” Is this it? The confirmation that he’s been looking for that his fears weren’t unfounded. Had you known this whole time he’d been fighting with Barb and not told him?

He didn't want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. How twisted had his life become that he was putting more faith into you, practically a stranger, than his own wife. 

You shook your head, a frown appearing on your lips and eyes boring angrily into his. “That’s not what I said.”

His mouth opened in shock, not quite sure he was hearing you properly. “What? Yes, it is.”

“Cooper,” you snapped, his name sounding harsh for the first time. You’d always spoken so sweetly to him, he couldn’t understand where this was coming from. “That’s not what I said, what is your problem?”

Could he have misheard you? You’d never gotten mad at him before. You would only be acting like this if he really was wrong. He sighed, figuring he should just drop it before he made things worse. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

Your eyes softened and you reached out, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “It’s alright. Let’s just enjoy tonight.” He nodded, leaning closer towards you while you reached forward to turn the radio on. Despite the both of you knowing it was a bad idea, you rested your head against him. Snuggled up together and watching the stars, he could get used to this.

You hear your name, rushed and bordering on a shout. You whip around, frowning when you see Cooper barreling towards you. He reaches you, grabbing you by the elbow and dragging you into an empty office. 

You’re taken aback by the aggression in his actions but you’re more concerned when you notice his eyes. They’re bloodshot and his cheeks are flushed, like he’s been crying or was trying not to. You reach up before you can think, hand cupping his cheek and ignoring the minute way he leans into it. 

“Cooper? What is it? What’s wrong?”

His eyes are wild, darting all around the room like he’s waiting for someone to jump out and grab him. “It’s Barb. I put a transmitter on her Pip-Boy and I heard her in her meeting. She’s talking about starting the nuclear war, she’s going to fucking kill everyone.” You step back from him, arms dropping to your sides. 

“Cooper,” his name is a barely heard whisper. “Why did you have to dig?” It’s over. You knew this was coming. Cooper was too smart not to start digging on his own, even without your reassurances. You’d only delayed the inevitable and hurt yourself in the process. Hurt him. 

He frowns and shakes his head, stepping back from you. His face moves through a hundred different emotions, faster than you can process, but you manage to catch a few of them. He’s betrayed, hurt, disgusted by the sight of you. “You knew?” The words are spit out with such venom you nearly flinch from him.

You can feel tears burning the back of your throat and you glare at him, “Why couldn’t you have left it alone?” It’s misplaced anger, you know. You’re mad at yourself for getting involved in this, for dragging him down with you. You’re mad at Barb and Bud and all the fucked up corporations you keep finding yourself employed by. But the anger strikes out at him and you regret it immediately. 

“You knew!” It’s not a question anymore, it’s a realization. He shakes his head and he almost looks more hurt than when he discovered Barb. “You’re fucking sick, all of you!” He’s out the door and down the hall before you have a chance to stop him. 

You sink back against the wall, wiping at tears that won’t stop coming. Betty finds you, she takes one look at you and then a dissapearingCooper before she’s dragging you into Barb’s office. “You need to wait here for them.”

You don’t argue, there’s no point. You’d failed in your mission and Cooper was beyond Barb’s grasp. Maybe it was for the better, that he got away from her while he could. Dying rather than being trapped in a vault with her might be a better ending for him. 

You can’t get that look of his out of your mind, not even while Barb berates you. She nearly fires you, but Bud stops her. She storms out of her office and you just keep replaying that moment with Cooper. You could have played along with him, never let him know you knew about Vault-Tec and just run away with him. 

But the thought of living the rest of your short life lying to him makes you sick to your stomach. 

Bud calls your name for the inth time and grabs your shoulders. You snap your gaze up to his, finally noticing that he’s been kneeling in front of you this whole time. ”You have to go in early.”

You shake your head dumbly, not understanding what he’s saying. He frowns, eyes desperate and he keeps glancing over his shoulder. “Barb is livid. She wants you gone. We’re gonna have to send you down early.”

“You mean…” you trail off, mind going blank at the thought of being put into cryo months before you were prepared to. You want to argue with him and tell him you need more time. Thoughts of going after Cooper and trying to make him see reason float through your brain. 

He seems to track your train of thought because he shakes his head. “We can’t delay this. You go now or you don’t go at all.” 

You hadn’t realized just how much Bud seemed to care for you until this moment. The sheer determination on his face that he wouldn’t let Barb bury you would have made you sentimental were it not for the current gut wrenching feeling of heartbreak you were experiencing. 

He stands up and glances over at Betty. The worry slowly disappears as a plan starts to formulate within him. “Betty will take her car and get you to the vault, I’ll have people there ready to take you in.” He grabs your arm and yanks you out of your chair. “You need to leave now, before Barb comes back with security.”

He and Betty share a look over your shoulder before she nods. She grabs your elbow from Bud and marches you down the hall. You’re barely present for the walk through the hallways of Vault-Tec. You don’t have time to take in the world around you, appreciate the beauty before it’s gone. 

You’re numb. Stuck in a limbo and paralysis of your own creation. When you make it to the vault, Betty leaves you there to be taken in by the guards. They lead you to Vault 31 and march you down the long hall until you reach your cryo pod. 

You don’t know when you’ll be released, what the world will be like when you come back out. But you know Cooper will be gone and there'll be nothing left for you. 

You step into the pod and let your eyes slowly drift closed. 

Your pod pops open with a hiss and your head lolls to the side. There’s an odd buzzing noise before you but you can’t see much of anything. “It will take a minute for your eyes to adjust.”

Your brows furrow as you place the voice, “Bud?” Your hands grope blindly through the dark for the edge of your pod. Your eyes begin to thaw, vague shapes and colors making themselves clear to you first. “If you’re here, how long have I been asleep?” 

Odd, you can’t make out his form anywhere, but it sounds like he’s right in front of you. You step down and there’s a loud buzz, like wheels rolling across metal. “Watch out!” You tilt your head in confusion, blinking the rest of the frost out of your eyes and gasping when you see what’s in front of you. 

A brain on a fucking vacuum. “Bud!” You shout, completely caught off guard by this new look of his. 

He sighs, the sound robotic and staticky. “Yes, it’s me. It’s the only way I could stay alive to monitor the success of my vaults.” Even just as a brain, you can still hear the pride in his voice, “I am proud to say that we have been most successful these past two hundred and thirteen years.”

You can’t respond, winded by how long it’s been since you’ve been asleep. Everything you’ve ever known was gone. Officially. 

Your mind drifts to Cooper but you stop it before it gets too far. Even before he found out about your role in Vault-Tec, you were never going to be in the same vault as him. No matter what, the two of you would never have seen each other again. 

There’s no reason to mourn him now. 

Bud rolls in front of you, leading you to the door of the vault. “Hank MacLean and Betty will be here to greet you. You’ll be a part of the Triennal trade, your official entry into vault 33.” He’s rapidly firing off information faster than you can keep up. 

You know the protocols, they were drilled into you long before you came down here. For every one of Bud’s Buds they had to marry their way into the vault they were entering. You just prayed Hank was kind enough to give you someone nice to marry, maybe even tall. 

The vault’s door is rolling open before you get a chance to prepare yourself. Ten smiling faces stare eagerly at you, you offer them tentative looks. You search among them for Betty and Hank, it takes you a moment to recognize them. To realize that the two old people at the front are Hank and Betty. 

They’d been out much longer than you had if the wrinkles were anything to go by. 

“Welcome to vault 33!” A big eyed girl shouts at you from behind Hank. You offer her a shaky smile, racking your brain for what you’re supposed to say. 

“Thank you,” the words are stilted and you wince internally. “In honor of your welcoming, my vault has sent ahead supplies and crops. My overseer apologizes for not being here to greet you all, but I’m happy to be here!” The words sound scripted, more than you would like. 

Betty picks up on your discomfort and ushers you forward. “Come on, you should meet your husband.” You shoot her a scared look but the face she gives you shuts you down. There’s no backing out of this, as much as you might want to. This is your reality now. 

“Norm, meet your new bride.” 

Well, he’s certainly not tall. 

“I still can’t believe you're not pregnant.” You hand Lucy a wrench and she frowns from her place on the floor. She pauses in her repairs of the pipes for a moment to pester you further. “Have you had the doctors check my brother’s sperm count?”

“Lucy!” You admonish, glaring down at her. She shrugs, not finding any fault in the question. You don’t have the heart to tell her that in the three years you’ve been married to her brother you’ve only had sex once. 

It was your wedding night, extremely awkward and unpleasant for both of you. Norm wasn’t the type to just easily trust someone he didn’t know and you were still nursing a heartbreak he could never comprehend. He wasn’t a bad husband, he was actually amazing. 

You two just seemed to work better as partners rather than husband and wife. You both kept your nightly activities, or lack thereof, to yourselves. It wasn’t exactly smiled upon to not be actively trying to repopulate the earth. But the extremely personal questions about your husband’s sperm and your fertility were beyond annoying. 

Still, everytime you even consider trying again with him you think of Cooper and want to cry. “His sperm count is fine. It just takes longer for some couples.” She doesn’t seem like she wants to let it go, but you force her to by shoving her back towards the broken pipe. 

You know she’s only been bugging you about it because her time in the trade is coming up. She’s just worried that her relationship will be like yours and Norm’s. She wants kids in a way you can’t bring yourself to and she’s worried her fertility takes after her brother’s. 

You understand the fear, but if she asks you one more damn time you’re going to clock her over the head with a hammer. Steph comes up to you both and gives you a placating smile. She must see the murder on your face because she offers to distract Lucy.

You thank her and storm off back to your housing unit. Norm, thankfully, isn’t home when you get there. He’s too perceptive for his own good sometimes. You don’t think you’re mentally there enough to try and lie to him about why you’re upset today. 

You decide to just call it a day. You’ll go to bed and when you get up, it will be time for Lucy’s wedding. You can just look forward to that and ignore the issues within your own marriage. 

You clutch your bleeding stomach while Norm grabs you and drags you under a picnic table. You both watch in stunned, traumatized, silence as your fellow vault dwellers are slaughtered all around you. Norm’s hand is gripping yours so tight you can feel your bones grinding together but you can’t point it out. 

A raider shoots at Bob, the kind old man who would slip you extra jello, and his blood splatters into your open mouth. It’s only a shoulder shot, he could live. But the raider is pulling out his machete and charging towards him. You make to leap out from under the table but Norm yanks you back. 

“Norm!” You hiss, but he just shakes his head. Your eyes widen in disbelief, you can’t believe him. Sitting here and watching your friends just die. You could help, you can’t just sit here. You yank your hand out of his and charge out from under the table. 

Your arms wrap around the raider’s waist and you both go flying. He lands on top of the wedding cake, frosting smearing across his bald head. You wrestle for his machete, eventually ripping it out of his hand. You thrust it up into his chest and he falls limp on top of you. 

You grunt at the impact, slipping on top of Lucy’s ruined cake while you roll him off. Lucy storms down the stairs, holding onto a wound matching yours. She offers you her hand and helps you to your feet. “Norm?” She questions, eyes watering and desperate. You point to where he still sits under the table. 

Across from you Steph grabs a gun and starts mowing down raiders left and right. You’re bending over for the raider’s machete when someone knocks into you from behind. You fall forward, head snapping against the concrete and vision going black. 

You don’t know how that horrible beginning with Cooper Howard started. When exactly you began to fall for him among your betrayal. But you know how it ends. It ends with you following Lucy MacLean out into the brightness of the Wastelands. It ends with his death and the Ghoul’s birth. 

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.

I’m not sure if I’ve put this in my last few posts or not. But, all of my dividers are the creation of @saradika-graphics (give her some love bc she’s amazing)

Ultraviolence

Previous part / Next part

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The Ghoul x fem!reader A/N: Canon timeline? We don’t know her Summary: He’s not the man you remember. Maybe you’d never actually known who that man was. It doesn’t matter, you need to get away from him before he kills you or does worse.

Bud sits at the head of the table. You don’t know how he managed to get this room for your meeting. Most of the time it’s only used for potential investors or the higher ups. But you know he likes to use it because it makes him feel powerful to sit in the big chair. 

You sit beside him, Hank’s on the other side of him, all of the higher ranking Buds are. It ranges from junior execs to lower ranking administrative assistants. He wants to create the next few generations of super managers and this is who he’s starting with.

You met him when you were working with his company creating the power suits. You were the one that brought the concerns about the defects to him. And because you’d saved him from years of lawsuits and dropping stocks by getting him the hell out of there, he’d taken you on as his personal assistant. A better pay, but not a better job. 

When Vault-Tec had agreed to this plan of his for his triple set of vaults, he’d kept you as his personal right hand. But that doesn’t matter to the rest of the little corporate worker bees. They don’t think you earned your place here. And they think you’re a threat to their positions. 

You’d been under the misguided belief that it was common knowledge that Bud wasn’t truly grooming you to take over the vaults. He likes you and enjoys working with you. Squeezing you into this program was a favor and a way to keep you safe in the fallout. He only drags you to these meetings to keep a good cover as to why you’re supposedly a valuable asset. None of its real.

These people don’t respect you. They’re all buying into a baseless rumor that you slept your way here. Not true, ever. If you weren’t so inclined to saving your own ass you might even say that you would prefer the nuclear war zone to Bud’s bed. But honestly, those thirty seconds with him would probably be worth it to have a place in the promised land. 

At the very least, he’s not letting you go into this unprepared. He’s got you in the same training regime as the rest. The same classes on leadership during tumultuous and trying times. If you are one of the lucky few who gets to see the surface, you won’t be unprepared. 

The meeting has devolved from lessons on proper management to discussions on other vaults. “I heard in vault eleven they’re doing self elected sacrifices.”

You scoff, spinning a pen idly on the table before you and reclining lazily in your seat. “That’s ridiculous,” you object, “what’s the point?”

Steph shrugs and shakes her head, blonde curls idly bobbing by her ears. “I don’t know. I think a lot of the experiments are just for the sick satisfaction of the investors.” Everyone turns to Bud, wanting to see if he would divulge any information. 

He entertained you guys by letting you speculate on what the vaults might be, but he was pretty adamant on not sharing investor secrets. Instead of answering he smiles, “A hypothetical for you.” You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes. He might be kinder to you, but you had to show him the same respect everyone else did. You didn’t want to risk undermining him just because he didn’t have as strong a backbone when it came to you. 

Besides, you know he doesn’t like talking about the darker side of the vaults. He always tenses up when anyone mentions a particularly grisly experiment. It’s clear that what Vault-Tec is doing is evil. But what the investors are planning is even worse. At least Bud just wants to breed a bunch of corporate workers, some of these people are talking about killing kids and only letting the smartest reach adulthood. Sometimes, Bud doesn’t like to face the harsh reality of the company he endorses so eagerly.

“Betty,” his eyes scan the table and everyone perks up, hoping for an opportunity to prove themself. His eyes land on you and his face lights up. You try to shake your head subtly at him but he’s already speaking your name with a smile. 

These hypotheticals are tests, see who has the better solution to a vault conflict. It’s an unspoken rule that whoever has the right answer is more likely to be put in a position of power rather than just be a breeder. With Betty it’s lose-lose. You let her win and everyone here just further confirms that you don’t have what it takes. You win and the divide between you both just gets larger. 

You feel the eyes of everyone on you and try to ignore them by continuing to roll the pen against the table, blocking out their stares. 

“One of us gets off on the wrong foot with their new partner from the breeding vaults. What do you do?”

Betty speaks up quickly, “We reassign,” she blurts out, all confidence and smugness as she looks over at you. “If they don’t get along, they can’t facilitate the proper environment for a child. It’s best to just reassign them to another partner.”

Bud hums, jotting something down on his notepad and looks at you. He says your name, prompting you to speak. “Once a partner’s assigned, there’s no going back. It’s up to the overseer to facilitate conversation between the two and find the root of the problem. It’s up to us,” you look at your peers and grin, “to be better than them. If we can’t get along with our partner it’s a poor reflection on us and Bud. Ultimately, it’s our job to fix the issue with conversation and if that doesn’t work, well,” you smile at Bud, “a little extra Calmex in their Sugar Bombs never hurts.”

Betty’s face falls as Bud smiles at you in return and you know you’ve won. “Correct! We’re meant to be raising the best of the best for our future. That means that petty squabbles get left behind. And I need strong leaders.” 

Bud grows serious, staring down the table at you all. “One’s who aren’t afraid of compromising their principles.”

He yanks her to her feet, fisting his hand in the collar of her blue suit dragging her up harshly. Her eyes widen with shock, looking him up and down. “Cooper?” She shakes her head like she’s trying to reset it and his mouth turns down into a frown. Her mouth flops open and closed obnoxiously. “I thought when I saw you that I was going insane. That I’d finally had a heat stroke. But it’s really you isn’t it?” 

She reaches forward like she’s going to touch him and he steps back with a harsh scoff. There’s a distant sort of wonder to her voice that has him gritting his teeth. Few things have kept him going these past two hundred odd years. Two of the main motivators; spite and hate. And he holds a hell of a lot for her. 

“In the flesh,” he grins, only getting angrier when she looks at his yellowed teeth with disgust. Not everyone had the luxury of hiding out in the vaults like a fucking coward. 

“What the fuck happened to you?” The question is blunt, no class or grace about it. She’s clearly caught off guard by the sight of him. He’s sure it's jarring to see the man who she’d left for dead still alive. Frankly, he’s only getting more pissed off by her reaction. 

He honestly thought that she was dead. He figured after she’d screwed the pooch with him that they’d gotten rid of her. And at one point, the thought of her death had saddened him slightly. They’d been close, about to breach something that would have ruined him as a married man and compromised his morals. But she’d lied to him and he was long past sadness, the only thing he felt now was a stark disappointment that she was still fucking breathing. 

“Nuclear fallout happened.” He growled, grabbing her by the rope looped around her waist and yanking her forward. She yelped, stumbling into his chest and trying to tug herself back from him. “Don’t you remember? It was your people who pushed the button.”

She smirks, a cruel tilt to her lips that makes him want to beat her to the ground. “If I remember correctly, it was your wife who pushed the button.”

He looks her up and down. There’s a burning rage building in him, this overwhelming desire to just take out his gun and riddle her pretty body with bullets. He’s damn near desperate to see what her blood looks like painting the forest floor. But he has to have patience, he’s got use for her yet. 

He lifts the rope up, smiling at the relieved look on her face, before drawing it around her neck and tightening it. She wheezes, hands shooting up to try and loosen it. He tuts, patronizing, grabbing her wrists harshly and yanking her forward so he can tie those too. She tries to say something, he doesn’t care what, but all that comes out is a strangled gasp for air. 

He tugs on the rope a few times, smiling at the way she winces at the pull, before dragging her through the forest. He’d love to just get this over with here and be done with her. But he needs to get away from Filly before the Knight calls for backup from the brotherhood. They’re not exactly big fans of him and he doesn’t need any more trouble than he’s already got. 

With her in his grasp, he forgets all about the bounty left behind in Filly. And the girl who’d been with her. 

“Is it true?” Hank runs in front of you, stopping you from going any further. You let out a rough sigh, glaring at him. 

“Is what?” You snap, moving around him and continuing towards the elevator. You’re going to be late meeting Bud at the studio if Hank decides he feels like being chatty today. You don’t want to make a bad first impression with your new boss. 

You don’t resent the idea of being an assistant as much as you thought you would. You were Bud’s assistant, but he didn’t really count. He wasn’t much of a boss and the tasks he had for you were menial. Most of your time was taken up by your training anyway. The only part bothering you about all this was the worry that your new boss might not be very agreeable.

He catches up with you, looking incredibly excited. “Bud’s really assigning you to Cooper Howard?” You huff out a laugh, nearly forgetting that Hank is just as smitten with Cooper as Bud is. Your heels clack against the tile as he keeps stride with you. You stop in front of the elevator, glancing over at him while you click the button. 

It opens quickly and you both step inside, even though you know he doesn’t need to actually use it. He fiddles with his tie, doing more damage than good. You roll your eyes and step forward, straightening it out for him. “Yes,” you mutter, fixing the knot. “I’m working with Mr. Howard from now on. Barbara thinks I’m expendable enough to be assigned to him.”

Hank glances down at you, patting your hand as you step back. “You’re not expendable,” he tries to reassure. 

You give him a grateful smile and shrug. “That’s sweet, Hank, but we both know I am. I don’t have any qualms about it. I’m just hoping he’s not one of those Hollywood assholes who thinks everyone needs to worship the ground he walks on.”

Hank shakes his head, expression in vehement disagreement. “No way, he’s my idol. Have you seen him in A Man and His Dog? Oh, and that line of his ‘feo, fuerte y formal.’” You blow out a long breath, idly clicking the first level button again, hoping it might speed this up. Hank chuckles, “Sorry, I’ve been talking Betty’s ear off about this all week. I almost wish Bud had assigned me to him.”

You don’t bother with telling him that he’s sorely lacking the assets that make you so well suited for the job. The elevator stops, doors slowly sliding open and you all but leap out of it. “You’ve got more important things to do here, Hank. I’ll try and get you an autograph,” he lights up at this. 

“Trust me,” you turn to look at him, giving him a slight smile. “Never meet your heroes.”

You’re tied up to a tree, the rope around your neck still wrapped around his fist. You eye it warily, waiting for him to yank on it again. He keeps doing that, randomly tugging on it and causing the burns around your neck to worsen. “I’ve got ways of making you speak, darling. You’re only making this worse for yourself.”

You glare at him, undeterred by his ‘torture.’ “You know another way of making someone talk?” His head tilts in question and you scoff, “Fucking asking a question.” He’s had you here for you don’t even know how long. Blood is steadily starting to form around the burns on your neck. Everytime you inhale it feels like you’re brushing an exposed nerve. And through all of this, he hasn’t asked you one damn thing. 

He just keeps tugging that goddamn rope and giving you this expectant look like you’re meant to read his mind. He’s already rifled through your bag, stolen your guns, and dropped all of your supplies onto the forest floor. You don’t know what he’s looking for but clearly it wasn’t in there. Or he’s just being a dick. 

This was not at all how you thought your reunion with him was going to go. One, because you’d never thought there would be a reunion. And, two, you don’t remember him being such a sadistic asshole. Then again, if he’s been out here as long as you think he has, you’re lucky he’s not worse. 

You still can’t believe it, that he’s alive. Even if he is a ghoul now, it’s a miracle your paths ever crossed. Well, maybe a curse, karmic justice on your part. He leans forward, elbows propped up on his knees and you find yourself leaning in to meet him. He grins, the curl of his lips cruel and lacking any sort of warmth. It’s enough to have you pressing your back against the trunk of the tree again. 

He doesn’t appreciate that, though, and tugs you forward once more. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, but you can’t help it. You hiss in pain, burning tears building up on the rim of your eyelids as you glare at him. “How’s this, sweetheart, where’s my fucking family?” The last two words are bordering on a shout, full of an anger you’ve never heard from him before. 

It’s enough to cause you to flinch back in surprise. Then, you laugh. “Family?” You question, tone sarcastic and bordering on cruel, “What fucking family?” The noise grates further on his nerves and the look on his face causes you to laugh harder. He darts forward, fast as a whip, and grabs your throat, shoving you back against the tree. 

You grin up at him, ignoring how much the leather of his glove hurts the raw skin on your neck. “I don’t know. How would I?”

He grins, “You were Buck’s favorite little cocksucker weren’t you?”

You scoff, lips curling down in disgust. “Bud,” you spit out, not helping your case. “And that was above my fucking pay grade jackass.” 

God, didn’t you used to love him? Wasn’t that the whole reason your relationship never worked with your husband? You’re really not feeling any of the love right now. Apparently, neither is he, his hand tightens to the point your vision turns black. Shadows start to crawl into the corners of your eyes and you can feel them starting to roll. Your limbs flail out in a discoordinated panic as air becomes harder to come by. 

After a minute he finally releases you, backing off and sitting back down on the log across from you. You fall forward, hands clawing at your throat as you take in deep gasping breaths. Your heart beats so violently inside your throat that you worry it’s going to rip through the skin. 

You struggle to get upright again, still panting when you finally look at him again. He’s no longer smiling, just staring blankly at you while he waits for you to get it together. “So,” you start, voice a rough croak that has you gritting your teeth at the sound. “Still pining after Barb, huh?” His eye twitches briefly at her name but he doesn’t react otherwise. “You know,” your hands lower towards your boots but he doesn’t catch the movement. “From what I remember she was a fucking bitch. Maybe you should just move on, I heard she did, real quick.”

You’re goading him, trying to get him angry again. You’re not sure it works until he lunges at you. Your lips pull up in a cruel grin, hands shooting out before he can catch onto what you’re doing. Your knife, the one you keep strapped to your boot, is buried in his throat. You jerk the rope out of his hand as blood dribbles over his lips. His eyes are wide with shock as you smile up at him. You rip the knife out, mouth closed against the arterial spray that follows. 

You don’t have time to grab your bag or untie your wrists. Ghouls heal fast, faster than you’d like. You leap off the log, over his body, and take off through the forest. You’re careful not to trip, you’ve still got your knife in your hand and you don’t heal nearly as fast as him. All you hear is the gurgle of death as he chokes on his own blood, but the sound quickly fades the further you go. 

You risk a glance at your wrist, trying to get a better look at the map on your Pip-Boy but there’s no point. You won’t be able to find Lucy or a way out of this right now. The best you can do is run and hope you manage to stumble across her. 

You should have planned this out better. You should have done this in a way where you could have taken your supplies with you. As it was, you don’t think he was going to present many chances to you. You genuinely know nothing about where Barb was. It truly was above your pay grade and it was information she never wanted to share with you. You have a feeling she’d caught on to how you felt about her husband and wanted you as far from him as possible. 

Without this information to offer him, you were useless. There was clearly no love lost with him and you doubted he would keep you around much longer. You just needed to get out before he decided he really did believe that you had nothing to offer. 

“How do you like it?”

You glance up at Bud and give him a terse smile, he eagerly waits for your answer. You finish chewing and force down the driest piece of chicken you’ve ever had the misfortune of eating. “It’s good, Bud. Did you,” you hesitate to finish, worry it will come out bitchier than you mean it to. “Did you make it?” You stumble over the words, voice rising in pitch to try and keep the dislike out of your voice. 

He nods, sawing so hard into his own piece that the table shakes slightly. “Yep,” he pops the ‘P’ with a proud smile directed at you. He dips the chicken into some ketchup and you watch in awe as he pops it in his mouth. He seems completely unbothered by the lack of flavor and juices. This man should never be allowed in the kitchen again. 

Bud clears his throat and you brace yourself. It’s not uncommon for you to be at his place for dinner. Normally, the food has been cooked by a professional, but he never invites you over without a reason. You’ve been wondering why you’re here since you arrived. 

He placed his fork down on his plate and leaned back in his chair. He gives you a smile that’s meant to be disarming but only puts you further on your guard. Bud might be able to hide behind his goofy grin and facade of incompetence, but you see what really lurks under the surface. 

He’s just as greedy as everyone else in Vault-Tec. For fuck’s sake, he’s planning to have two vaults of people that are just there to be bred. He wants to create an army of micro-managers to efficiently rule the world. He would do anything to carve out a place for himself in the future. To make a name for himself. And just like any other man he wants his name to have weight, meaning, power. 

It’s what this whole experiment of his comes down to. A hierarchy of power that all leads back to him. The people in the two vaults, the cattle as Bud’s Buds have come to call them, answer to their overseers. The overseers appear to have final say in all decisions, but it truly all loops back to Bud. He’s created a world for himself where he is almighty, a practical god to those in the vaults. They’ll never even know that every decision they make, every happiness or low point they experience, has all been orchestrated by him. 

Him being Bud, the man with the least intimidating persona you’ve ever met. Maybe that’s how he’s made it so far. Everyone underestimates an idiot. 

“How has it been going with Cooper?” Even now there’s a pitch to his voice that betrays his excitement every time he mentions Mr. Howard. You know Mr. Howard wants you to call him Cooper, or, as he’s insisted, Coop. You can’t do it, though, everytime you call him by his first name you fall deeper into your crush. 

You can’t be blamed for it. You spend everyday with him, you’re by his side more often than you’re on your own. Anyone in close proximity to him that often would start to fall for him too. You’ve been trying to convince yourself it’s just guilt presenting in odd ways but you know that’s bullshit. You’re slowly falling for him and you feel awful about it. 

Everyday you’re getting closer to just blurting out the truth. But you know the consequences of that. Not only will Barb get rid of you, most likely kill you to keep Vault-Tec’s secrets, you’ll be screwing over Mr. Howard. If he learns about what his wife is up to, the sickness that lurks behind that pearly smile, he’ll never forgive her. He can kiss his place in the vaults goodbye. You’d be condemning the both of you to death. 

You need to rid yourself of this unfortunate crush. There are at least one hundred and twenty two vaults, and those are only the ones you know about. Who knows how many the higher ups are keeping from the rest of you? You’ll never see him again after this and you need to come to terms with that. 

“He hasn’t been asking me much about the company. I think he’s assuaged for now, I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up, though.”

Bud sets you with a stern glare and you straighten up, face falling into a mask of indifference. “Why’s that?” The tone of his voice tells you he knows exactly why you’re struggling. But he wants you to deny it, to prove him wrong. You know Bud likes to look out for you, but he isn’t just flippantly providing you with a place in the world. 

This whole thing with Cooper is one big test. He only wants those who aren’t afraid of getting their hands dirty. Leadership requires sacrifice and sometimes doing things you don’t want to do. 

You shrug, “He’s a bit of a wildcard. Not as easily malleable as Barb made him out to be. I think she underestimates him.” You reach to take another bite of the chicken but change your mind at the last second and sip some water instead. It’s a weak attempt at stalling but Bud lets you have it.

“I have faith in you.” You glance down at your hands and Bud calls out your name, forcing you to meet his gaze again. “If anyone can do this, it’s you. I’ve never met someone more inclined to self preservation.”

There’s a glint in his eyes, an underlying threat to his words. You swallow harshly, grip tightening around the glass until you feel like it might shatter. If you mess this up there’s not going to be a second chance. 

You nod your head, “I’ll keep him under control. It’s not hard to leash a man when you’ve got something he wants,” the insinuation isn’t lost on him. He nods, picking up his fork and beginning to eat again. 

You can’t do the same, you’ve lost your appetite and it’s not because of his cooking. You’re not sure what Cooper will do to you if he ever finds out the truth but you know it won’t be pretty. 

He rolls over onto his side, hand peeling away from his throat and eyes widening at the glossy sheen of blood over the leather. “Fuck,” he hisses, testing out the damage done to him. Nothing too bad, just a hoarse voice that would probably work itself out within the hour. 

It’s not her stabbing him that has his blood boiling with rage. It’s the audacity she has to even attempt hurting him. He can’t know for sure whether or not she knew he would survive that. He has to assume she wouldn’t, there’s no way she’s met a ghoul before. 

Leaving him for dead once wasn’t good enough, she needed to kill him herself this time. Spiteful fucking bitch. She’d always been like that, it had just taken him too long to see it. Seems like he has a type, women who only ever look out for themselves. 

There was a look in her eyes, one he’s seen a million times before. She’s got a fight

 in her, the same selfish spirit that kept her alive for so long. God help anyone who gets in her way, she would always pick herself first. 

He rubs at the skin of his neck, wiping off the rest of the blood and laughing humorlessly. He wants to see that light go out. He wants to watch as she loses her fight. He wants to be the one that does it. Break her so thourhougly that she gives up all hope. And when she does, when there’s nothing left for her, he’ll set her loose in the world and let it have its turn ripping her apart. 

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.