#fallout x reader

You can’t believe it. You’ve made it. Of course, “it” being the wasteland, completely covered in desert sand, decaying bodies and god knows what else. But somewhere out there is your sister Lucy who’s looking for your father and boy are you determined to find her. 

Preferably you would’ve entered the surface in more appropriate attire, wearing a wedding dress two sizes too small and previously worn by your sister wasn’t the most thought-out idea but hey you had one opportunity to get out of vault 33 and you took it even if it meant leaving your soon-to-be husband at the altar. Aw well, I guess you’ll stay a virgin another day. 

Your white high heeled wedding shoes pinched your feet as you made your way through the sand. The thought of walking barefoot in the dirty sand disgusted you but the shoes weren’t giving you much coverage either. 

In the distance you spot a dark figure wearing a cowboy hat and a dog walking by his side. 

“Hello! Hello! Excuse me sir!” you yell attempting to catch up to him. The figure turns to face you and as you get nearer you notice his features...or lack thereof. 

“Excuse me sir I’m looking for my sister she’s-” 

“Now why do I get the irritating feelin’ that you're some relation to Lucy McClean?” the Ghoul wonders aloud. You gasped beaming with delight. 

“Yes! She’s my sister! Do you know her? How did you know-” 

“You both have that same dumb smile,” the Ghoul stated almost annoyed. Your smile dropped. As children you and Lucy were inseparable and comparisons were often drawn between the two of you, taking after your mother of course. 

“I’m looking for her,” you stated. 

“As am I,” the Ghoul began to look you up and down. You shifted uncomfortably.  

“And why exactly is a pretty little bride searching all alone in the wasteland then huh?” the Ghoul continued.  

“Be-because I’m the only person that knows my sister better than anyone and uh it just so happened that the only day I could escape the vault was in fact the day of my wedding,” you admit.  

The Ghoul smirks at this statement, “Well then pretty lady, it must be my lucky day because you’re gonna help me find your sister. But see your sister has been causin’ me some trouble lately so I will be needing some...payment from you in return for her disobedience.”  

The Ghoul makes his way closer to you. 

You frown in confusion, “Like wha-” 

He grabs your wrists and ties them together tightly with rope. 

“Now pretty lady, I don’ know if I can trust you just yet so this is only a precaution until I know you’ll do what you’re told. God knows your sister doesn’t.” 

You struggle against the restraints. The Ghoul takes you by your waist and slings you over his shoulder. Your veil just barely holding on. 

“Hey! What the heck!” you yell. The Ghoul slaps your ass. 

“Firstly, we’ll have to consummate that marriage of yours little lady,” the Ghoul laughs walking towards an abandoned town in the distance. 

- 

The Ghoul sits you down on an old dusty table in an abandoned house with no windows nor doors and not much walls either. He places his hat to the side. You blow a strand of hair out of your face. 

“Listen sir, whatever it is my sister has done-” you began. The Ghoul places a knee between your thighs pushing them open so that he can stand between them. 

“You can call me Coop sweetheart.” 

“Coop.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“I’m sure there’s a more rational solution to whatever it is my sister has done. But taking advantage of a bride on her wedding day is-” 

Coop presses himself against your crotch. “Oh, it’s your wedding day, is it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, I think it’s only right little lady that we bless this union and consummate your marriage. Since of course your poor husband can't be here.” Coop leans in and presses himself harder onto you. A wet spot grows in your lacy wedding lingerie.  

“But my husband-” 

“He don’t have to know.” Coop's gloved hand moves up your thigh. He slips two fingers into your panties. The sensation of the leather glove causes a shiver to run down your spine. 

Oh, fudge it. Your “husband” wasn’t the best looking and hey, you’ll probably die out here in the wasteland anyway. 

Coop begins rubbing tight little circles around your clit. You gasped, whimpering as he applies more pressure and faster circles. 

“Oh, you’re a good girl alright but, like your sister you talk too damn much.” Cooper removes his hand from your panties causing you to whimper at the loss of touch. The Ghoul licks your wetness from his gloves before taking it off and shoving it in your mouth. You moan in protest. 

He leans down. His mouth by your ear. 

“You know, it’s been quite some time since I’ve done any of this. I just hope I ain’t too rusty,” he growls before licking the shell of your ear. You cringe and move your head away at the feeling causing Cooper to let out a laugh. 

“Now let’s see what we’re working with.” Cooper gets on his knees his face inches away from your soaking wet pussy. He licks his way up either side of your inner thigh before taking your “something blue” garter off with his teeth. 

“Too bad your husband wasn’t the one to do that.” He sling-shots the garter off to the side. “Or this.” 

Cooper pulls your lacy panties off before using his thumb to part your slit. Your pussy juice glistening in the light. 

“You know there are a lot of ugly things out there in the wasteland but that right there sweetheart-" flattening his tongue he licks from your hole to your clit. "-is one pretty pink pussy.” 

Cooper attacks your clit with his tongue lapping it up like a dog who hasn’t had water for days. You spat out the glove moaning louder than you thought humanly possible. Coop forces your legs to stay open with his hands digging into your inner thighs keeping them from closing in on his head. 

“God sweetheart you taste incredible,” Coop breathed continuing to lick your most sensitive area. Sure, it’s been a while since Cooper Hoffman had seen any action, but he sure had a talented tongue and knew what to do with it.  

You assumed you’d died and gone to heaven. Of course you weren’t a complete virgin, but messing around with cousins definitely didn’t involve pleasure on your end. 

As you came you saw genuine stars. Unable to comprehend all that came from your mouth was complete and utter gibberish. 

Satisfied with himself and grinning from ear to ear, Cooper stood up, mouth glistening with your arousal. 

“Now that the lady is prepared, it’s time for you and I to go for a ride.” Cooper grabbed his hat placing it back on his head. He crashes his lips into yours. His lips chapped and dry but god they taste good. Lips and tongues clashed together as Coop slowly lowered you onto the table so that you lay flat on the table with your legs dangling on the edge. 

Coop gave one last lick of your lips before reaching into his trousers and taking his cock out. He pumped himself a few times lining up with your entrance eager to let him in. 

“You do me a favour darlin’?” Coop asked, only his tip inside you. You nodded. 

“When I fuck this tight little cunt of yours, I want you to scream real loud for me.” 

And loud you were. As Coop stretched you your groan echoed throughout the empty house. He gives you a brief moment to adjust. 

“God I forgot how good fuckin’ a tight pussy is,” Coop groaned before quite literally fucking you into the table. His thrusts were fast and deep, allowing you to feel every last inch of him stretching and fucking you. 

“Oh Coop,” you moaned eyes rolling back. You struggle against your restraints wanting nothing more than to dig your nails into his back. Cooper takes your right leg placing your high heeled foot on his shoulder allowing him to get even deeper.  

Cooper laughed, “I bet your husband is one jealous motherfucker.” 

His breathing and groans become erratic as he reaches closer to the edge.  

“Please Cooper!” you beg, feeling pleasure like you’ve never felt before. 

“Oh yes darlin’ you better beg for Daddy's cum,” Cooper grunts, his thrusts getting faster. 

“Oh please! Please! I need oh-” 

The Ghoul fills you up with a loud groan before gently placing your legs down. 

Breathless you sit yourself back up on the table.  

“I don’t think my Dad will be very happy that I lost my virginity to a ghoul,” you state attempting to wipe the sweat off your brow with your tied up arms. 

“I hope he ain’t. He may have been involved in fucking up the world, but god does his daughter have a good pussy,” Cooper replies untying you. 

“Now, let’s find that sister of yours.” 

- 

Lucy’s eyes flicker open. A needle and tube attached to her arm. She winces at the sun in her eyes and pulls the tube from her arm. 

“Lucy?” You’re sitting by her side still in your white dress. 

“Oh my God! It’s you! How did you-is that a wedding dress? Did you get married without-” Lucy gushed but you cut her off with a hug. 

Sitting only a few feet away in a lawn chair the Ghoul rolls his eyes. 

“I missed you,” you whispered. You smile at each other. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Lucy whispered tucking hair behind your ear, grinning like a mad man.

“I know...you wouldn’t happen to have any spare underwear by any chance, would you?” you ask attempting to be casual. 

“What happened to your underwear?” Lucy questioned with a frown, confused. 

“Yeah sweetheart, what happened to your little panties,” Cooper spoke, a shit eating grin on his face. 

Lucy looked back to you still confused waiting for an answer. 

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

It isn’t romantic. It isn’t deliberate. It’s just late, and the fire has burned low, and the day has been long in the way only wasteland days can be, loud and dusty and endless.

You’re sitting close because it’s cold. That’s all. Your shoulder brushes his. Your knee nudges his thigh. He doesn’t move away.

You tell yourself you’re just resting your eyes. You wake to weight. Leather. Worn and warm and familiar.

His coat is draped over your shoulders, heavy enough to ground you. Your cheek is pressed against something solid, his chest, you realize slowly. His arm is wrapped around your waist, not tight, just steady. Like he put it there without thinking.

You don’t move right away. His hand shifts slightly when you breathe in.

“Don’t get used to it,” he mutters, voice rough with sleep.

You smile against him. “I won’t.” But you do.

It starts like that. Not with a confession. Not with a decision. Just proximity. Just his hand finding your back in crowded settlements.

Just the way he steps slightly in front of you when someone gets too close.

Just the way he says your name, not sweetheart, not darlin’, but your actual name, when a gunshot rings out.

You start noticing patterns. He always looks for you first. After every fight. After every explosion. After every moment the world threatens to swallow something whole.

His eyes find you.

And when they do, something in his shoulders relaxes. You tell yourself that means something. You don’t ask him what.

The first time he kisses you, it’s quiet. No build up. No teasing.

You’re standing too close. You’re arguing about something small, directions, maybe, and your voices drop instead of rise.

He looks at you differently. Not amused. Not detached. Just focused.

His hand comes up slowly, fingers brushing the side of your neck like he’s testing whether you’ll pull away. But you don’t.

His mouth is warm. Slow and careful, but not hungry. Not careless. Like he’s memorizing something. Your heart stutters against your ribs.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests briefly against yours.

“Don’t get attached,” he says softly. You laugh. Like it’s a joke. Like it doesn’t land somewhere deep and sharp.

“I won’t,” you say again.

He kisses you once more before stepping back. That’s when you should have asked what he meant. But you don’t.

————

Weeks pass. Then months. He kisses you when the nights are too long. When the wind howls too loud against abandoned walls. When you almost leave to take a separate contract and he says, “stay.”

But he never says why. He calls you darlin’ in front of strangers. Lets people assume. Lets their eyes linger on the way you stand too close.

He doesn’t correct them. But he doesn’t confirm it either. Some nights he sleeps with his arm heavy across your waist like it belongs there.

Other nights he sits just far enough away that you feel the space. You never know which version of him you’re getting. That’s the part that starts to hurt. Not the distance. The inconsistency.

Because when he’s close, he’s close. When he looks at you like you’re the only thing still alive in the world, it feels real.

And when he pulls away, it feels like you imagined it.

You don’t realize you’re falling in love. It doesn’t hit all at once. It happens in fragments. In the way you wait for him to sit beside you instead of anywhere else.

In the way you memorize the weight of his hand on your hip.

In the way your chest tightens when he disappears for two days without a word. You tell yourself he always comes back. He does. That has to mean something. Right?

The first time he leaves without touching you goodbye, you feel it. You don’t say anything. You don’t ask.

You just watch him walk away with that lazy, confident stride. He doesn’t look back.

And for the first time, you wonder if you’ve been the only one counting the moments.

—————

It happens in a town that smells like old wood and stale whiskey.

You’re leaning against the bar while he negotiates a payout, hat tipped low, voice smooth and careless in that way that always seems calculated. The bartender glances between the two of you more than once.

It’s the kind of look you’ve grown used to. Curiosity. People assume things. You don’t correct them. He doesn’t either.

The job closes clean. Caps exchanged. No blood spilled this time. As you turn to leave, a man near the door nods toward you both.

“You two travel together?”

It’s a harmless question. You don’t think much of it.

“Yeah,” you say easily.

At the same time, Cooper answers, “Sometimes.” The word lands wrong. You glance at him. He doesn’t look at you.

The man chuckles. “Must be easier out there, havin’ someone watch your back.”

Cooper shrugs.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

He slides his revolver back into its holster, expression unreadable.

“On how long they stick around.”

The man laughs again, but you don’t. You wait for him to say something else. To clarify. To reach for your hand. To smirk and correct it. To throw an arm over your shoulder and say, “she’s with me.”

He doesn’t. Instead, he pushes open the saloon door and steps out into the dust without looking back. You follow.

You don’t bring it up right away. You tell yourself you misheard. You tell yourself it didn’t mean anything.

He walks beside you like always. Close enough that your shoulders brush every few steps. Close enough that his hand hovers at your waist when a group of settlers pass too near.

Like he’s used to protecting what’s his. The thought makes your chest ache. That night, the fire burns low and quiet. He sits across from you, cleaning his gun in slow, steady motions.

You watch the way the light flickers across his face. You try to swallow it. But you don’t.

“Sometimes?” you ask finally.

He doesn’t look up.

“Sometimes what, darlin’?”

“You said we travel together sometimes.”

He slides the cloth through the barrel.

“We do.”

“That’s not what you meant.”

Now he looks at you. Not defensive, just calmly.

“You readin’ into things?”

You shake your head.

“I just didn’t realize I was temporary.”

The word sits heavy between you. Temporary. His jaw shifts slightly.

“That ain’t what I said.”

“It’s what you implied.”

He sets the revolver down slowly.

“Out here,” he says evenly, “everyone’s temporary.”

The answer feels rehearsed. You nod once.

“Right.”

Silence stretches. You wait for him to soften it. To reach for you. To say you’re different. He doesn’t. Instead, he leans back, hat shadowing his eyes.

“Don’t start buildin’ something that ain’t there, sweetheart.”

That one hits. Not loudly, just careful. Like he’s trying to save you from something. You swallow.

“And what is there, then?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. The fire pops between you.

Finally, “We travel good together.”

That’s it. That’s all he offers. You nod again. You don’t cry. You don’t yell. You just feel something inside you shift quietly. Not breaking. Not yet. Just bending.

Later, when he lies down beside you, his arm still finds your waist. He still pulls you closer in his sleep. Still presses his mouth against your hair like he always does. Like it means something. And you let him. Because it feels real when he does it.

Even if he refuses to say it is.

————

You don’t decide to pull away. Not consciously. You just stop reaching first. It’s small. So small he might not notice.

When you sit by the fire that night, you choose the other side. Not far. Just not within arm’s reach. He doesn’t say anything. But his eyes flick up once, measuring the space.

You pretend not to see it.

The next morning, when you saddle your horse, you don’t wait for him. Usually you linger.

Usually you ask which direction he wants to take. Today, you mount first.

He comes out of the abandoned house a few minutes later, hat low, scanning the horizon like he always does. He pauses when he sees you already mounted.

“You in a rush, darlin’?”

“No.”

You click your tongue at the horse.

“Just figured you knew the way.”

He studies you for a second too long. Then swings into his saddle. You ride side by side. But you don’t brush knees this time.

At the next settlement, someone asks about a contract. You step forward before he does. You negotiate the pay. You set the conditions. You don’t look at him for confirmation. He lets you speak. But you feel his gaze the entire time.

Later, when you collect your half of the caps, you don’t hand them to him automatically. You tuck them into your own pocket. His brow lifts slightly.

“You goin’ independent on me?”

“Thought everyone was temporary.”

The words slip out before you can stop them. He goes still. Just for a second. Then that lazy half smile returns.

“You keep that up, sweetheart, I might start thinkin’ you’re mad.”

“I’m not.”

You aren’t. That’s the problem. You’re just tired.

That night, the fire feels different. Colder. You lie down without waiting for him. You face away. You don’t mean to make a statement. You just don’t want to anticipate his arm around you. You don’t want to hope.

A few minutes pass.

Then the ground shifts behind you. He lies down. Closer than you expect. His hand rests at your waist. You don’t lean back into it. You stay still. He notices. His thumb presses lightly against your side. Like hems testing you. You don’t respond.

The silence stretches.

Finally, “You plannin’ to ignore me all night?”

“I’m sleeping.”

“Mm.”

His hand doesn’t move. But it doesn’t tighten either.

“Didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters quietly.

You don’t turn around.

“Mean what?”

He exhales softly through his nose.

“You know.”

You do.

But you make him say it.

“That I’m temporary?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. The fire outside crackles faintly.

“You ain’t,” he says finally.

Not convincing. Not solid. Just… there. You close your eyes.

“That’s not what you said.”

His fingers flex once at your waist.

“I don’t do labels.”

“I wasn’t asking for one.”

The words come out softer than you intend. There’s a difference between asking to be owned and asking to be chosen. He doesn’t understand that. Or maybe he does. That’s worse.

You feel his forehead brush lightly against the back of your shoulder. A quiet, almost unconscious touch.

“Don’t start makin’ this complicated,” he murmurs.

You almost laugh. Like it isn’t already.

———-

The next few days follow the same pattern. You don’t sit as close. You don’t laugh as loud. You don’t respond every time he calls you sweetheart. The first time you ignore it, he notices. The second time, he stops mid sentence.

The third time, “Didn’t hear me, darlin’?”

You look at him.

“You call everyone that.”

Something flickers across his face. You hold his gaze.

“And I don’t share.”

The words hang between you. He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t smirk. Just studies you. Long and careful. And for the first time, he looks unsettled.

—————-

It happens three towns later. You don’t plan it. You’re just… lighter. Or maybe you’re pretending to be.

The contract was easy. Too easy. The kind that leaves your adrenaline high and nowhere to put it. There’s music in the square. Cheap liquor. A fire bigger than necessary. Someone hands you a drink. You take it. You don’t look at him first. That’s new.

A man from another caravan starts talking to you, tall, sunburned and harmless. He tells a bad joke. The man steps closer. Not too close. Just enough. You don’t move away.

Across the square, Cooper leans against a wooden beam, arms crossed, hat low. He looks like he’s not paying attention. But you know he is.

The man says something else. You touch his arm briefly when you laugh. You don’t realize you’ve done it. But Cooper does. His jaw tightens. Only slightly.

Lucy notices immediately. She glances at him. Then at you. Then wisely decides to stare into her cup instead. The man leans in.

“Didn’t peg you for the quiet type,” he says.

“I’m not.”

“Oh yeah?”

You shrug. “Just selective.”

The man grins. Behind you, boots shift in the dirt. You feel him before you see him. That warmth at your back again. That presence that fills space without asking.

“You keepin’ her entertained?” Cooper asks lazily . His tone is light. Almost amused. The man straightens slightly.

“Just talkin’.”

Cooper hums.

“Mm.”

He doesn’t look at you. He looks at the man. Then his hand settles at your waist. Not gripping. Just resting. Like muscle memory.

“She gets bored easy,” he says casually.

The man’s smile falters just slightly. You glance up at Cooper. His face is unreadable.

“You don’t get to decide that,” you say calmly.

His eyes flick down to you. A spark shimmering in them.

The man clears his throat. “Didn’t realize you two were—”

“We ain’t,” Cooper says quickly. Too quickly. The word lands heavier than it should. You step out from under his hand. The air shifts instantly. The man takes the opportunity and excuses himself. Coward.

You don’t look at Cooper right away. You feel the space he left.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say evenly.

“Do what?”

“Claim me.”

His mouth tilts.

“Didn’t.”

You finally meet his eyes.

“You tried.”

He steps closer.

Close enough that the firelight catches in the lines of his face.

“You were lettin’ him get real comfortable, sweetheart.”

“And?”

His jaw tightens.

“And you don’t know him.”

“You don’t own me.”

The words are soft. But sharp. He exhales slowly.

“I ain’t sayin’ I do.”

“But you don’t like it.”

Silence stretches between you. He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t deny it. Just looks at you like he’s trying to figure something out.

“You don’t get jealous,” he says finally.

“You do.”

That lands. His hand flexes slightly at his side.

“You testin’ me?” he asks.

You tilt your head.

“Maybe.”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“Careful.”

“Why?”

His gaze darkens just slightly.

“Wouldn’t want you thinkin’ I care more than I do.”

That one hurts. Because you don’t know if it’s a warning, or a lie. You step back first.

“I wouldn’t.”

You leave him standing there. He doesn’t follow immediately. But you feel his eyes on you the entire time.

———-

Later, when you lie down, he hesitates before joining you. That’s new. When he finally settles behind you, his arm wraps around your waist again. Tighter than usual.

You don’t lean back. He notices. His voice is low when he speaks.

“You enjoy that?”

“The conversation?”

He exhales softly against your shoulder.

“You know what I mean.”

You don’t answer.

After a long moment, his grip tightens just slightly.

“Don’t make me compete for somethin’ that ain’t even mine,” he mutters.

There is something. That’s a slip. It’s not loud or dramatic, but it’s there. You close your eyes.

“Then maybe decide what it is.”

He doesn’t reply. But he doesn’t let go either.

————-

The job is supposed to be simple. In and out. Two men holed up in an abandoned rail station. Nothing complicated. It goes wrong immediately. The first shot isn’t aimed at you. The second one is.

You barely register the crack of the rifle before something slams into your shoulder and knocks you sideways.

You hit the ground hard. The world tilts. Dust fills your mouth. For half a second, you don’t hear anything.

Then, You hear him.

“Get down!”

There’s something in his voice you’ve never heard before.

Raw.

The gunfire is loud, messy. You push yourself up, disoriented, reaching for your weapon, a hand grabs you hard around the arm and drags you behind the crumbling wall.

It’s him.

He shoves you down behind cover and turns immediately, firing twice without hesitation. One of the men drops. The other runs.

Cooper doesn’t chase. He doesn’t even look. He’s already turning back to you.

“Are you hit?” he demands.

You blink at him.

“I’m fine.”

He grabs your face with both hands. Firm. Grounded. His thumbs press into your cheeks like he’s making sure you’re solid.

“Are. You. Hit.”

The words are tight. You shake your head.

“No.”

He exhales sharply, like something just released from his chest. His forehead presses against yours. You’ve never felt him breathe like that before. Fast and unsteady.

“Don’t do that,” he mutters.

“Do what?”

“Scare me.”

The words hit harder than the bullet ever could have. You go still. He doesn’t seem to realize what he said. His grip softens slightly, but he doesn’t pull away.

“You moved without cover,” he continues, voice rough now. “Can’t have you makin’ mistakes like that.”

You search his face.

“That’s not what you meant.”

He goes quiet. The world around you fades. Lucy’s voice in the distance. The wind. The dust. It’s just him. And the way his hands are still holding you like you might disappear.

“You thought I was hit,” you say softly.

He doesn’t deny it. His jaw tightens.

“Don’t make me think like that again.”

Your chest tightens.

“Why?”

The question is barely above a whisper. He hesitates. And for one fragile second, y think he’s going to say it. You think he’s going to look at you and finally choose something.

Instead, he pulls back slightly.

“Because I can’t afford it,” he says.

The words fall flat. You nod slowly.

“Right.”

He lets his hands drop. But he doesn’t step away. He lingers. Eyes scanning your face like he’s memorizing it. That night, he doesn’t sit across from you. He sits beside you. Closer than usual. His thigh pressed to yours.

When you lie down, he pulls you into him without hesitation. No teasing. No nickname. Just his arm wrapped tight around your waist. His chin resting on the top of your head. You don’t say anything. You don’t ask.

You just let yourself believe this is different. He was scared. He said so. That has to mean something. Right?

As you drift toward sleep, his voice brushes your ear. Low. Almost unwilling.

“Don’t make me lose you.”

It’s so quiet you almost think you imagined it. You turn slightly toward him.

“I won’t.”

He doesn’t respond. But his grip tightens.

———-

For a while, it changes. Not loudly.Not in a way you can point at.Just… subtly.

He sits beside you without hesitation now. Not across the fire. Not leaning against some distant wall. Beside you.

Close enough that your thighs touch. Close enough that when he shifts, you feel it. He doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t make a joke about it. He just stays.

He reaches for you first. That’s new. When you step into a crowded trading post, his hand settles at the small of your back without thinking.

When a stranger brushes too close, he angles his body in front of yours. When a gunshot cracks in the distance, his fingers catch your wrist before you even react. Instinct. Like you’re his to protect.

He doesn’t comment on it. You don’t either. But you feel it.

The first time he introduces you differently, it almost knocks the breath out of you.

A caravan guard looks between you both and asks, “She with you?”

He doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t deflect. Doesn’t say sometimes. He just answers “Yeah.” Simple and easy.

Like it’s obvious. Your heart trips over itself. You don’t look at him right away. You don’t want him to see it on your face. But later, when you do glance at him, he’s watching you.

And he doesn’t look amused. He looks… steady.

That night, he kisses you first. No teasing. No warning. Just his hand sliding into your hair and pulling you into him like he’s been thinking about it all day.

It’s slower than usual. Less playful. When he rests his forehead against yours afterward, he doesn’t pull away immediately.

“Still here,” he murmurs.

It sounds almost like reassurance. You smile.

“I am.”

———

You start leaning in again. You let yourself laugh louder. You sit closer. You stop measuring the distance between you at night. When he calls you sweetheart, it feels different now. Not careless. Intentional.

Lucy notices. Of course she does. “He’s different,” she mutters one night when he steps away to check the perimeter.

You pretend not to react.

“Different how?”

“Like he finally realized what he’s got.”

Your chest warms at that. You don’t say anything. But you believe her. Because it feels true. He looks at you like something he doesn’t want to lose. He touches you like you’re staying. He sleeps with his arm tight around you every night. No space. No hesitation.

You start thinking, this is it. This is the shift. He just needed time. He just needed to realize it. You stop bracing yourself for the pull away. You stop guarding your heart so carefully. You let it settle. You let it root.

You let yourself imagine what staying might look like.

One evening, when the fire is low and the world is quiet, he traces his thumb lazily along your hip.

“You still plannin’ on takin’ that solo contract next month?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“No.”

“Why not?”

You hesitate.

“Don’t feel like leavin’.”

He goes still. Just slightly. His thumb stops moving.

“Good,” he says after a moment.

The word is soft. And it feels like a promise. You close your eyes. And for the first time, you stop wondering if you’re temporary.

————-

It happens when you’re not expecting it. Which makes it worse.

The job is done. The caps are split. The road is quiet for once, dust settling in gold streaks under the setting sun.

You’re sitting beside him, shoulder to shoulder, sharing a bottle you don’t really need.It’s peaceful. Comfortable.

His thigh is pressed to yours. His hand rests loosely on your knee.You’ve stopped questioning it. You’ve stopped bracing. You let yourself feel steady.

He tips the bottle back, then hands it to you.

“Might head west after this,” he says casually.

You blink. The words don’t register at first.

“West?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugs lightly, eyes still on the horizon. “Got a lead out that way. Bigger contracts. Better pay.”

You wait. You wait for the second part. For the “we.” It doesn’t come. The wind moves through the dry grass around you. You swallow.

“When?”

“Couple weeks.”

Still no we. You stare at the bottle in your hands.

“And Lucy?”

“She’ll decide.”

He says it like it’s simple.

Like you’re all separate pieces moving independently.

You look at him slowly.

“And me?”

Now he looks at you. There’s a flicker there. Small. He didn’t think that far ahead.

“You got options,” he says evenly.

The words feel like a bruise.

“I thought we were good,” you say before you can stop yourself.

“We are.”

“Then why does it sound like you’re leaving?”

He exhales softly.

“It’s just a contract, darlin’.”

You don’t flinch at the nickname this time. That’s what scares him.

“You didn’t say we,” you say quietly.

Silence. He looks back at the horizon.

“Don’t start readin’ into things.”

There it is again. The wall deflecting you. After weeks of closeness. After the arm around your waist. After “don’t make me lose you.” After “good.” Your chest tightens.

“I’m not reading into anything,” you say calmly.

“I’m listening.”

His jaw shifts.

“You knew what this was.”

The sentence lands heavier than he intends. Or maybe exactly as heavy as he intends. You nod slowly.

“Yeah.”

You hand the bottle back. Your fingers brush his. He doesn’t pull away. But he doesn’t hold on either.You stand.

“I’m gonna check the horses.”

You don’t look back.

———-

That night feels different. He lies beside you like always. Arm around your waist. Chin near your shoulder. But something has shifted. You don’t lean back into him. You don’t press your hand over his. You lie still. His thumb traces a lazy line against your hip.

“You’re quiet,” he murmurs.

“I know.”

“You mad?”

“No.”

You’re just… tired.

“West ain’t tomorrow,” he says after a moment.

“I know.”

“You could come.”

Finally. You close your eyes.

“You didn’t say that earlier.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. His grip tightens slightly.

“I didn’t think I had to.”

You let out a slow breath.

“That’s the problem.”

Silence. The fire outside crackles faintly.

“Don’t make this somethin’ it ain’t,” he says softly.

Your throat tightens.

“And what is it, then?”

He doesn’t answer. Because he doesn’t know how. Or he won’t. You swallow the ache.

“Get some sleep,” you whisper.

He doesn’t argue. But he doesn’t let go either.

———-

He notices it before you say anything. The distance.

You still walk beside him. Still take contracts. Still lie down near him at night. But you don’t lean into his touch anymore. You don’t respond when he calls you sweetheart. You don’t reach for his hand, don’t wait for his arm to circle your waist. You’ve stopped expecting it.

And that’s what unsettles him.

Three nights after he mentioned heading west, the fire burns low between you. You sit on the opposite side, not far, just far enough. The silence stretches longer than usual, thick and watchful. He studies you for a long moment before speaking.

“You plannin’ on sayin’ somethin’?” he asks quietly.

You look up at him. “I have been.”

“That so?”

“You just don’t hear it.”

The wind shifts, carrying sparks upward. He rises slowly and steps around the fire, boots soft against the dirt until he’s standing a few feet away.

“You’re pullin’ away,” he says.

“Yes.”

“Why.”

It isn’t really a question. It’s frustration wrapped in restraint.

You take a breath, steadying yourself. “You only hold me when you think I’m leaving.”

His jaw tightens.

“You only choose me when it’s convenient,” you continue, voice calm but fragile around the edges. “When I get hurt. When someone else gets close. When you’re scared I won’t stay.”

“That ain’t fair,” he mutters.

A tired laugh slips from you. “It is.”

He steps closer. Not aggressively, just enough that the firelight catches in his eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like I don’t—” He stops himself.

You hold his gaze. “Like you don’t what?”

Silence answers first.

“You knew what this was,” he says finally, falling back on the same shield he’s always used.

“I did,” you admit. “But it changed. You changed.”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, like he’s trying to see the moment it shifted.

“You panic when I get hurt. You get jealous. You say stay. You say good,” you whisper. “You hold me like I’m yours.”

Your voice trembles now, but you don’t stop.

“But you won’t say I am. You won’t say you’re staying. You won’t say you love me.”

The word hangs there between you, heavier than anything else you’ve thrown at him.

“When are you gonna stop breaking my heart, Cooper?”

It isn’t loud. It isn’t angry. It’s exhausted.

He freezes like you’ve struck something he didn’t know was exposed.

“I ain’t breakin’ it,” he says softly.

“You are.”

“I never promised you nothin’.”

“That’s the problem.”

The fire pops between you. He runs a hand over his face like the world just became too complicated.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he admits at last. “I don’t know how to stay without ruin’ it.”

“That’s not your choice to make.”

“I ruin things,” he says roughly. “I ruin people.”

“You already risked me,” you answer. “The moment you let me fall.”

The truth settles heavy in the air.

“I love you,” you say, because you’re done pretending otherwise. “I’ve loved you for a long time.”

His breathing changes. The confession lands harder on him than the accusation ever did.

“And you don’t get to keep me halfway,” you continue, quieter now. “You either choose me… or you let me go.”

He steps closer until there’s barely space between you. His hand lifts, hesitates, hovers inches from your face. He looks afraid, not of you, but of the weight of the decision.

“I don’t know how to stay,” he says, voice stripped raw. “But I don’t want you gone.”

Tears blur your vision. “You don’t get both.”

He closes his eyes briefly, as if steadying himself against something far bigger than gunfire or contracts or the road west.

When he opens them, something is different. Not softer, just resolved.

“I’m stayin’,” he says.

Your breath catches. “No west?”

“No west.”

“And you don’t get to take it back when it scares you.”

His jaw tightens. “Then don’t let me.”

This time, when he reaches for you, it isn’t out of fear of losing you. It isn’t because you’re halfway gone.

It’s because he’s choosing to.

His hands settle on your face, careful and certain. His forehead presses to yours, steady.

“I love you,” he says, like the words are unfamiliar but solid. “I’m stayin’.”

For the first time, there’s no almost in it.

You lean into him, not because you’re afraid he’ll disappear, but because he didn’t.