#< that’s what you’re saying. that’s what you sound like. a ghoul

[psyshockdeoxys]

this is what you sound like:

[nataliedecorsair]

For this Halloween, I present you my MRI monster + a little bonus story about it >:) --

It’s the tail end of October, when the days shrink down to thin slices of cold sunlight. The late autumn air is sharp and crisp. It’s carrying the scent of wet, dying leaves; it stirs a strange feeling inside you, a mix of melancholy and restless hunger for something more. An adventure, perhaps... or something darker.

And why not? You’re young, curious and like everything weird and unusual. For you anything out there is a story, and this one could be a story about the unfortunate abandoned hospital at the end of a broken road. Folks say this place is haunted, but maybe no one’s ever dared to find out for sure. You're certain it is time for you to solve this mystery for good.

You ease your way inside. The door gives a long, miserable creak as it opens, as if it hasn’t been touched in decades. The paint, once green, is almost gray now; it hangs in shreds, peeling off the wood like dead skin. The air in the hallway hits you, stale and thick, smelling of dust and something sour. You pull out your flashlight, clicking it on with a soft snap, and the narrow beam cuts through the dark, scanning over pockmarked walls and the occasional room. But, of course, you don't see anything but empty beds, rusty buckets, piles of ragged fabric left to rot. No signs of ghosts or ghouls - or anything remotely interesting, for that matter.

You explore for ten minutes, maybe more, telling yourself you’ll see something any second now. But after the seventh empty room, you start to think there's no mystery at all. Pretty expectable, isn't it? Or what, did you really think you’d find anything but dust, broken glass, and busted syringes? With a sigh, you turn to go, shaking your head.

You take a step into the hallway, flashlight slicing through the shadows, and that’s when you hear it: a low, dry crrrk-crrrk. At first, you think it’s the old building settling. But then it comes again, irregular and jittery, like static: crick-crack, crick-crick-crack. The sound’s sharper now, that unmistakable staccato of a Geiger counter ticking.

Your heart beats faster. You swing the flashlight in the direction of the noise, but there’s nothing there, just the same hollow walls and chipped paint. Crick-crack-crick. Louder now, closer... For a sick, sinking moment, you wonder if there’s something radioactive buried here, and shake your head in disbelief.

"It doesn’t make any sense," you think. "I don’t even have a Geiger counter." But your mind, stubborn as a mule, wrestles to make sense of the nonsense, to catalog that weird crackle and shove it into some drawer that fits. Maybe you’re just hearing things? The building is old, there could be some pipes. It's always the pipes that make the most uncanny noises.

But the thing making that sound... it doesn’t care whether you understand or not.

You run forward, not watching where you're stepping, and a rusty bucket clatters across the floor. You fumble as your flashlight slips from your hand, the beam ricocheting off the walls and scattering shadows like startled birds. You crouch to retrieve it, fingers scrambling over the filthy, dusty tiles. And that’s when you see it, illuminated by the flashlight laying on the floor.

Feet.

They're human, but wrong. Slightly translucent - and shot through with slowly swirling masses of black and red liquid, twisting just under the skin. You look upward, and you make out the outline of a woman in a tattered, filthy hospital gown. Her body consists of that liquid, contained within the thin walls of her grayish skin. Everywhere but her head. It looks like an MRI scan, flickering between 2D and 3D, a nightmare too strange for your eyes to comprehend. Empty white orbs stare down at you, soulless and wide. She has no lips, but her mouth peels back, revealing a row of long, black teeth: it almost looks like a smile. She leans in, and before you can scream, rushes towards you - and the world plunges into darkness.

...You wake up in your own bed, the morning light spilling through the curtains. What a horrible nightmare you just had! Head feels so heavy, it hurts with this annoying, pulsating, throbbing pain deep within your brain. You feel feverish. You got sick, perhaps? It would explain the dream, so realistic - and so ephemeral at the same time.

With a sigh, you brush your palm through your hair, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep... but your fingers snag on something. A clump of hair. You pull it free, bewildered. Since when have you started balding? Confusion morphs into unease as you glance down at the skin of your hand, red and sunburn. Sunburn in October? In this area?

"I should definitely see a doctor," you think, an anxious knot tightening in your stomach. "But not in this abandoned hospital." Nervous chuckle escaped your lips, as you tried to calm yourself down with this silly joke. "I will never go there again, whether it's a dream or not."

…At least, you thought so. -- More spooky art here and here

[ghoulphile]

wish you'd make me cry | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.3k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, dom!cooper, frottage, sitting missionary, dirty talk, degradation kink, pet names, teasing, dacryphilia, bareback, drug/chem use (jet), shotgunning, high sex ➥ summary | "You’re such a needy fucking brat." :3c ➥ notes | drabble (that's no longer a drabble lol) request for @tearueful, thank you bby!! this one really got away from me... i had to stop myself from writing lol. un-beta'd atm. masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

Setting up camp for the night in an abandoned warehouse, you and Cooper wait out a radstorm that blows in off the horizon. Because while he loves sitting outside with a smoke, soaking in the rads until he’s buzzing with frenetic energy, you don’t feel like hunting down RadAway tomorrow.

It’s quiet apart from the distant sound of super mutants and ferals roaming the city, the sporadic roar of thunder, and rain tinging off the sheet metal roof. There’s still hours left until daylight, and it doesn’t seem like the volatile weather will break soon.

Unfortunately, you’ve read all the Grognak comics you could get your grubby hands on three times over, and there’s not much else to pass the time besides scuff your boot along the concrete floor, and pluck at a stray thread hanging off your tattered sleeping bag.

Meanwhile, Cooper lounges on his side, unbothered. His hand - bare for once - props up his head, the unscarred skin of a commandeered digit stark against angry rad burns and ropey scars. Between the knuckles of his other hand, he rolls a vial of chem over and over in a mesmerizing flick of deft fingers.

A lantern sputters between you as the old battery struggles to keep it lit. Its jaundiced glow banishes the thick darkness; a fuzzy halo of light that elongates shadows and deepens the cuts of his face.

You kiss your teeth, and say, “Hey, you got any more Jet?”

Lazy eyes slide towards you. A hairless brow quirks. “And if I did,” he asks, the vial pausing between his fingers, “why you wanna know?”

“Dunno, I’m bored… wanna get high?”

“Well, shit,” he whistles, bares his teeth. A low, crackling laugh rumbles from his chest. “Why the fuck didn’t you ask sooner.”

You shrug and crack a knuckle.

To be honest, the idea hadn’t occurred to you at first. Now that it has, anticipation curls low in your belly. Not only has it been a long, long time since you last got high (the sensation a hazy, half-remembered dream of fuzzy warmth and whirling thoughts), you know Cooper always carries a top-notch stash.

The little chem fiend, you think fondly.

“So,” you prompt. “Wanna get high together or what?”

“Sure as shit, darlin’. Let’s party.”

He settles against the pockmarked wall beside you with a soft grunt, the grit of concrete digging into his back. Thigh to thigh, his body is a rad warm line of heat. A bloom of suffocating heat in the otherwise biting chill of a wasteland night. Gunpowder and smoke tickle your nose when he leans over to rifle through his bag, leather creaking.

Muted, mellow; everything fades into a silent companionship as you pass the red inhaler between you. With every puff, whorls of smoke curl from your mouths until a murky gray cloud hovers in the air; defining the edges of your crafted universe.

The acrid vapor of chem burns its way through your lungs and into your bloodstream. A bitter taste coats your fattened tongue, lips tingling as your palm smothers little coughs. A flood of static rushes down your nerve endings, sends your head spinning.

As your vision blurs, the tension leeches from rounded shoulders with a bone weary sigh. And with every slow clicking blink, colors spark to life in a distorted kaleidoscope. Head lolling to the side, you watch through heavy eyes as Cooper rattles the inhaler and takes a shallow hit.

When he exhales, little tendrils of smoke caress the plains of his cheek. Dance along the hollow nasal ridge. “Almost out.” He grunts, your fingers brushing when he passes the cartridge back. “Go on, now. Finish it.”

The kind gesture (for him) touches you.

Then a faraway thought flutters.

Snags - settles into a nebulous desire.

And before you can second guess yourself, a rumble of thunder shakes the building. Wipes away the last of your common sense, and reservations. After all, why not? He was nice enough to share. You can too.

To his credit, Cooper doesn’t startle when you slink into his lap - not that you expect him to, even without being chem-addled. He tracks your movements from beneath a heavy brow bone, the dark Nuka Cola of his eyes glittering like shattered glass in the wane light.

“Heh, this that kinda party then, darlin’?” he asks once you settle, your thighs draped over his hips and your ass flush with his crotch. “‘Cuz you’ll be wanting ta extricate yourself if it ain’t.”

—Before I do it for you.

Humming, you dip forward until your breasts brush over the wide expanse of his chest. Interest flickers to life behind your navel; cinders cracking and popping along your spine. While you’d never considered Cooper a sexual availability beforehand (what with his never-ending search for family), the laden weight of his gaze as it pauses on your chin before dropping lower sings through your blood.

Kickstarts your heart into a galloping stutter that thuds against your ribcage as longing hooks behind your navel, tugs sudden and sharp. The world spins.

Maybe, you think, peering at him from beneath the fan of your lashes. Maybe…

“Pervert,” you murmur, biting down on a small smile.

The knife-sharp smirk falls from his lips faster than a comedown from Psycho when your fingertips ghost over the curve of his jaw, turning his head towards you. Like this, you share breath, the scant space between you thrumming with energy.

So close you can see flecks of gold in the amber whiskey of his eyes.

Your forehead brushes over his; the rough drag of gnarled skin sending a shiver through your limbs. “Let’s share the last hit. S’only fair.”

Pausing, he considers you for several long moments.

His gaze bounces from yours to the playful curve of your mouth and back. A small eternity passes like this. And then - when you’re about to crawl away to lick your wounded pride - the most imperceptible of nods grants his assent.

There’s a hiss of aerosol, a lung burning inhale, and then you’re exhaling into the open gash of his mouth.

Wisps of smoke dance off your tongue onto his, the bow of your lips glancing off the swell of his top lip as you squirm closer. You feed him chem in a slow, steady stream until all the air has left you.

He groans - a wounded, low-throated sound.

Your eyes flutter open to find him already staring, his iris a thin ring around the Blackhole of his wide blown pupils. Hooded, hungry: a caged predator. You lick your lips, and in doing so, flick your tongue over his.

Your stomach swoops, “I --”

“You’re such a needy fuckin’ brat, y’know that, sweetheart?”

Whether it was an apology or some other retort stuck to the back of your teeth like hard candy, you’ll never know because in the next moment a rough hand knocks the Jet out of your hand. The inhaler cracks against the concrete with a plastic smack before skidding off into the darkness.

A burning palm curls around your wrist, calloused fingers digging into your fluttering pulse point. “Hey — hngg!”

He yanks you close, and you taste the violence in his kiss.

Harsh lips map out the softness of yours as teeth pinch and roll until your mouth is a swollen mess of tender flesh and smeared spit. Keeping up with the frenzied scrape of his tongue and the deep pulls of his kisses is like trying to weather a hurricane or fight off a Yao Guai with a single bullet.

“W-Wait,” you gasp, fingers twined through the lapels of his duster. “I don’t --”

“Shut up,” Cooper growls, worrying the swell of your bottom lip until a bead of blood bubbles to the surface. He sucks it away with a stifled moan, his hips kicking up against the plush of your ass.

“Shut the fuck up right now. You know what you was doing - trying ta act innocent when you’ve been gaggin’ for it.”

Flustered, you pull back, “No, that’s not true!”

It’s hard to keep your balance with chem pumping through your veins, and you sway to the side. The only thing keeping you upright is the bruising grip Cooper has on your wrist. “I haven’t been — you’re wr-rong.”

He spits out a mean spirited chuckle. “If that’s what you need ta tell yourself, sweetheart.” A critical eye drags down the pathetic sight you make, crumbled as you are in his lap. “But I know the truth. I felt you looking - pantin’ after me like a bitch in heat.”

“...”

Panic grips you by the throat, your pulse thundering against the thumb he strokes along the curve of your shoulder. You should’ve known better.

Of course, he’d notice.

He was The Ghoul after all - best bounty hunter from this coast to the next. It was his job to perceive everything around him, sus out friend from foe.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

What else can you say?

He brought you along (for whatever reason, fuck if you know why), and you’ve caused nothing but trouble every step of the way. It’s a wasteland miracle he hasn’t kicked your ass and left you bleeding in the dirt by now.

I have to fix this. Whatever it takes.

“I ain’t wanting you sorry.”

Gulping, you will away the sting of tears, and say, “Please, don’t kick me out.”

“Y’know, sometimes I think it’s a miracle you survived this long at all.”

“You don’t have to be so rude about it…” 

“Listen good and well, sugar,” he says with a roll of his eyes, that tender hand brushing over your neck turning into a collar as he drags you close. His lips whisper over yours with every word. “I didn’t go through all of this bullshit just ta get rid of you. Now--”

Hips rut up into you, dragging the firm line of his growing erection along the soft globes of your ass. “Stop teasin’ and make yourself useful,” he says. “Or you will be sorry.”

Everything after that flicks in and out of focus like a zoetrope: the burning clasp of hands, the slick glide of hungry mouths, the frantic rock of your hips as you both chase after dry friction with a desperation that borders on madness.

Your hands don’t know where to settle, fluttering from the nape of his neck to the breadth of his shoulders to the rippling muscle of his stomach as he rocks into you. Bites at any exposed skin that he can until his teeth leave marks you’ll carry for days.

All the while the hard edges of his body crash into your softness like waves against an eroding shore. Liquid fire blazes in your belly like a raging wildfire, scorching you from the inside out until you’re dumb and dripping.

The chem snaking through your body enhances the littlest of sensations until you feel like one giant exposed nerve. Slick drenched and sweaty, you moan weakly and rest your forehead against his cheek.

“Please,” you slur, thighs trembling where they squeeze at his live-wire hips. “S’not enough - need more. Wanna cum. Please, please, please. Make me cum.”

Cooper bites out a curse, his fingers biting into the fat of your ass. “Yeah, s’that right, sweetheart - d’you think you deserve it for bein’ such a lil brat?”

“Yes, yes, please, I’ll do anything. Just - hhahh, fuck!”

The fabric of your panties clings to your folds, and your pants chafe.

Your clit throbs with every thud of your heartbeat, every firm grind of his cock and low husk of his voice. Want him seated so deep inside you choke - your poor pussy struggling to take his cock as he rides you so hard you cry.

“Anything?” he asks with a breathless chuckle.

The devilish gleam of his eyes rattles your bones, shivers of electric anticipation fizzing through your veins like Quantum.

“Well, shit. Don’t come cryin’ ta me when you regret it. Now, take off those fucking pants and ride my cock like a good girl.”

And when he bullies his way inside, those thick ridges dragging along gummy walls, you almost swallow your tongue. He’s so big - the biggest you’ve ever had.

Every inch is a struggle, a victory. He’s not patient, he’s not kind. You don’t want it any other way, spread so wide your pussy flutters pathetically, trying to push him out.

Then the fat head grazes past the rough patch of your g-spot, sliding home to kiss your cervix. Your knees lock around his ribs, your head tossing back as a high-pitched whine punches its way out of your throat.

“A-Ah! I can’t — oh shit — you’re so,” you babble. “Too much!”

An ache spears deep, roots behind your navel.

“Heh, you asked for it, sweetheart. Look at me.” A scarred thumb wicks away a tear as you peel your eyes open with a sniffle. “That’s it. Shit, you look s’pretty when you cry.”

He licks his skin clean, uses his wet thumb to reach between you and roll the pad over your abused clit. You jump, sliding up on his shaft only for gravity to drag you back down with a solid smack of skin, your limbs jello soft.

The motion slams him deeper and slick drips from you in a sticky gush to soak his balls. You cry out, reedy thin.

Cooper grunts, warns, “You keep doing that and we’re not stoppin’ til you’re dripping cum.”

Though the thick haze of chem and syrupy sweet pleasure, you cobble together a grin and lick your way into his mouth. Tangle your tongues and suck as your hips arch into his. “Please, ruin me,” you breathe.

A possessive greed glints at you from the depths of his hangman eyes.

“Don’t go sayin’ I didn’t warn you, sweetheart,” he promises.

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Stuck like glue

Request: "I'm going to scream your domestic character joining coop on his travels from her cabin is SO good 😭 I was wondering if you would write something with the same character in her cabin when coop turns up from nearby having taken one too many bullets? Or maybe he's sick and needs some jet. Some hurt/comfort fluffy sweetness"

A/N: Thank you to the awesome anon who sent the idea! Maybe not AS fluffy as we wanted, but there's for sure some soft Ghoul going on in here. And, oh yeah, the reader has a dog now. No description of said dog has been given, so please imagine as you'd wish.

Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader

WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, brief mentions of sexual interaction.

Summary: Your favorite Ghoul needs to be patched up after a spat with some Raiders, and you always know just how to make him feel better.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Gif credit to @elisefrost from this set

You’re outside attempting to hang clothes to dry when you hear it. 

The soft but distinct sound of jingling metal comes from behind your cabin. You set one hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh and walk in that direction, eyes peeled for any movement. A bark echoes the sound from your porch, and you snap at your four-legged companion in an attempt to get him to stay. 

“Tiger!” You hiss. “Quit!”

 He relents with an indignant huff and returns to the porch, while the metallic noise keeps up in a steady pattern, akin to the cadence of a slow walk. You tilt your head at the thought and eventually move the hand off your pistol; only one person would dare tread this close in broad daylight with such carelessness.

“Coop?”

You don’t see him anywhere, but you’re almost certain it was the sounds of his old spurs that caught your attention. 

“Cooper if you’re tryna scare me, you know I'll gut you.” The threat is an empty one, but saying it gives you some hope that it’s indeed him and not a Raider or Slaver looking to score some loot. 

“No need, babydoll.” His voice sounds ragged, tired. “Don’t think I could scare a bunny rabbit at the moment.” 

You follow his voice to your left, and find the Ghoul leaned up against a tree. He’s practically swaying in the breeze, very apparently unsteady. You rush over just as he slides down and collides with the dirt.. 

“Cooper! What happened to you?” 

Your hands flutter up and down his arms, brusquely checking for any injuries. Nothing obvious jumps out at you, but he heals fast and external wounds are rare. A wheeze claws its way up his throat and morphs into a hacking cough. You recognize the sound as the need for a Vial, and grab at his bag. 

“Do you have any on you?” 

A stuttered cough answers. “Fresh out… s’why I came here.”

Your stash of Vials had been growing just about as long as you’d known Cooper. When you traveled together, he’d hand some off to you for safekeeping, and there always ended up being extras. Upon your return home, he’d tell you to keep them. It wasn’t shocking, given that he found his way back every couple of days.

“Alright, come on.” You crouch down and position yourself beneath Cooper’s arm. 

You can tell he’s weak by the way he leans into you, knees wobbling relentlessly as you pull him up. Another round of coughing wracks his body and you squeeze him reassuringly. 

“Couch isn’t far.” You chose your words carefully, avoiding any inkling of pity. Having an already deteriorating Ghoul is enough, let alone a defensive one who hates being pitied. 

Cooper does his best to keep up with your steps, but his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel the heat radiating off of him through his jacket and hear him wheezing beside your ear. Stepping onto the porch gives him some trouble, but you manage to haul him up and inside the door. Tiger whines nervously, circling the pair of you as you trek inside. The Ghoul collapses onto the couch as soon as it’s within reach. 

After making sure Cooper’s not going to slide off the couch, you continue to the med-kit in your makeshift kitchen. The Vials are hidden at the very bottom, wrapped in cloth for extra cushion to prevent shattering. You decide there’s more than enough for him to take two, and carefully extract the mysterious chem. 

Cooper’s laid out on his back when you return with the Vials. One arm is thrown over his eyes and the other dangling off the side of the couch with Tiger perched beneath. The dog nuzzles his favorite person’s hand for attention, and it elicits a chuckle from you. Even as the only conscious person in the room, you were still second in Tiger’s eyes. 

“Coop.” You shake his shoulder gently. “Hey. Hey. Where’s your inhaler?”

You nudge his hat away and he blinks slowly. “Mmm.”

“Ok then.” You mutter and pat down his jacket, searching for the contraption he always carries. The coat yields no results, and you pat down his pants until you feel it tucked away into the pocket at his hip. “Finally.”

Cooper shuffles ever so slightly when you slip your hand into his pocket. “H-hey now. I know you love me, baby, but I-I ain’t got it in me right now.”

An errant smile pushes its way onto your lips. You snap the meds into place on his inhaler 

“Open up.”

He fails to heed your instructions, and you ultimately end up forcing the inhalant into his mouth. It never works instantly, but within a minute or so of administering it there’s movement. One of Cooper’s hands lifts to cup yours, puffing on the inhaler again. 

You release your hold on it and rock back onto the balls of your feet. It’s then you take note of the holes in his clothing, and run a hand down his chest. There’s numerous holes, some as big as your finger and others no larger than a pinhead. 

“Cooper, what happened to you?” You sit on the edge of the couch beside him as he takes his first deep breath without Chems. 

“I just turn’d in a bounty and some Raiders jumped me.” He looks down at your hand on his chest. “Bastards shot me ten or eleven times. Damn buckshot got me good.”

You nod. “I can tell. You were in a bad way, Coop.”

The Ghoul sits up slowly beside you so his legs can swing off the couch. “I’ll be good as new, soon as this stuff starts workin’ good.” 

Tiger hops up on the couch next to him, tail wagging with excitement. The dog licks your cheek on his way to Cooper and pushes his nose into the Ghoul’s shoulder. You chuckle at the interaction, patting the dog’s shoulders. Coopers are still hunched with exhaustion, and his deep-set eyes look even more so. 

“Well until they do, you rest.” You stand, glancing out the still-ajar door. “It’s getting dark anyway.”

Cooper, as usual, opens his mouth to protest. If there’s anything he hates, it’s feeling useless. 

“No arguments.” You point a finger at him. “I mean it.”

He grumbles, but relents. “Fine. Only if you turn somethin’ on that ol’ TV of yours.”

The television turns out to be a perfect method of relaxation. You have to remove Cooper from the couch temporarily, but wrestle it into the pullout bed form and line it with blankets. The Ghoul had given in to his exhaustion rather easily at the prospect of a comfortable bed and kicked off his boots to climb all the way in. You hung his coat on a nail by the door, but made sure to leave his guns, lasso, and assorted weapons within arm’s reach. The TV played some old soap opera from before your time while you snagged a couple of hard candies- a luxury item, as the nearest settlement called them- and made to settle in. 

Cooper had managed to prop himself against the back of the couch, feet kicked out down the length of the thin mattress. Tiger, seeking attention as per usual, is curled up against his right leg. A wet nose rests just beneath Cooper’s knee and twitches in interest when you unwrap the first candy. 

The Ghoul might as well be a dog himself for the way his ears perk at the sound of a wrapper. 

He watches intently as you very gracefully clamber to sit next to him. You pop the fruit-flavored candy in your mouth and scoot around until you find comfort. In this case, it’s leaned up against the Ghoul beside you, head dropping onto his shoulder. His breathing is still shallower than you’d like, but a vast improvement from where it was when he’d shown up. 

“You ain’t gonna share?” 

You open your fist and offer up one of the candies. “I suppose I could. But only for you.”

A smirk twists the corners of his scarred lips. You poke at the candies and attempt to read the labels to no avail. 

“I’d offer you a choice of flavor, but…” You shrug, looking back up to your Ghoul. “Slim pickings.”

He lifts a bare hand to your chin, tilting up. “I think the pickin’s are just fine.”

You smile and lean in to meet him, lips falling into a familiar dance.The hand on your chin slides down to grip your nape and holds you firmly in place. It’s not long before the candy is gone from your mouth. Its remnants remain, mingling with the taste of gunpowder and smoke. A few moments pass before you decide to separate

“Miss me much?” You inquire, cuddling yourself down into his side. 

His arm raises to accommodate your body and lowers it back down to encircle your shoulders once you’re settled. “I always miss you darlin’. For a variety of reasons.”

You hum softly, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

Cooper’s hand trails up and down your arm, leaving wide trails of gooseflesh. “Well, the main one happens to be the lack of entertainment.”

You scoff. “I’m your entertainment?”

“Fuck yeah, you are. ‘Specially when you’re hollerin’ at scavengers and shootin’ anything that moves.” The Ghoul chuckles to himself. “Or trippin’ over a sleeping yao guai.”

You shove him playfully. “That was one time, and I shot it dead anyway.”

Cooper pulls you towards him, and you shift until you’re between his legs, back pressed against his chest. “That you did, sweetheart. I ain’t forgot.”

He grabs the nearest blanket and tosses it over your entangled bodies. You curl to the side and rest your cheek to his chest. Tiger shuffles his body with a huff, apparently frustrated with the lack of attention.

“What would you do without me?” You tap his chest gently, relishing in the warmth he produces. “Other than get eaten by a yao guai?”

The Ghoul scratches Tiger’s head. “Prolly go feral. Chase around some folk to scare em’.”

You know he’s joking, but the thought of losing him to ferality scares you to no end. Particularly since he’s just shown up on death’s door and almost hacked a lung onto your floor.

“Don’t say that.” You lift your head to catch his eye. “Please.”

Cooper may be a gruff old Ghoul with a dreadful outlook on the world, but he softens ever so slightly at your words.

“You know I don’t mean it, sugar. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

Two scarred fingers hook beneath your jaw and pull you back up to his lips. It’s tame at first, but the Cooper you know wastes no time making an appearance. His teeth nip at your lip gently and one rough hand slides up your side until it cups your breast. You press into him eagerly, climbing upwards until your thighs slot around either side of his hips. He responds by grinding them into you, delicious friction warming you from head to toe.  

Tiger decides he’s disgusted at this point, and hops off the couch with a comical groan.

Unbothered, one of your hands latches onto the lasso that is tossed on top of his pile of weapons. You loop it around his neck, gripping either side of the rope and pulling him in. Cooper smirks against your mouth. 

“Oh I love being stuck with you, Cowpoke.” You whisper against his mouth, earning yourself a quick bite to the bottom lip.

The Ghoul grins and quickly shows how much strength he’s regained by reversing your positions. He snatches the rope faster than you can react, and wraps the fingers of one hand loosely around the column of your throat. There’s just enough pressure to shoot a pang of arousal between your legs. Cooper knows you’re squirming, and presses a knee there to relieve some of the ache. 

“Glad t’hear it.” He murmurs into your neck, “‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-------------------

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[rambling-at-midnight]

Second Chances

Summary: It’s not common knowledge that you have a superpower: regeneration. You didn’t think that would be a problem... Jason and Damian think otherwise.

Relationships: Jason Todd x Vigilante!Reader, Damian Wayne & Jason Todd & Reader (platonic because they’re brothers duh)

DAMIAN WAYNE IS MY SON I LOVE HIM SO MUCH (I just watched the Supersons movie he makes me smile so hard)

Word Count: 4.8k

Content warning for temporary character death. Reader’s vigilante name is Ghoul, BTW.

Jason is in the shower when he hears someone break into his apartment.

He groans, makes sure all the shampoo is rinsed out of his hair, then grabs the knife mounted to his curtain rod. It’s not the first time someone has attacked him in the shower, and it probably won’t be the last. Still, Jason wishes they would at least give him time to grab a towel. It’s just as uncomfortable for him as it is for them.

This time, they actually do. Maybe they’re going to be polite enough to wait for him to finish cleaning all of Gotham’s sludge off his body. Jason would appreciate the sentiment more if the upcoming fight wouldn’t immediately dirty his body again with their blood.

He doesn’t turn off the shower when he steps out, dries his feet on the bath mat. He’s reaching for his towel when he hears one of the intruders say something.

He recognizes that voice.

Jason sticks his head out of the bathroom and glowers. “What are you doing here, brat?”

Damian Wayne, one of Bruce Wayne’s many children and the current Robin, scowls right back. “Why is your shower still running, Todd? Do you not care for conservation efforts? There are people in Michigan who would—”

“Okay, Dami,” interrupts another voice.

Jason’s whole body flushes. He makes sure every part of him except his face is hidden behind the door when a second person comes into view.

Your vigilante costume is zipped halfway, the top pulled down and sleeves tied around your waist, exposing the compression shirt with kevlar-like weave you wore beneath it. A large bandage is wrapped around your upper arm, growing redder by the second.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jason says. Does he sound too excited? Does he not sound excited enough?

You just smile. “Hey, Jace. Sorry, we came by for first aid supplies. We’ll be out of your hair in just a sec.”

“No, don’t rush on my account,” Jason says. Does he sound too desperate? “Just give me a—”

He ducks back into the bathroom to turn off the shower after making sure he’s clean and one hundred percent soap-free. Not expecting company, he’d only brought a pair of boxers and military-style shorts in with him. Rushing, hoping you don’t leave before he gets out (Damian can leave, though) he pulls both on and slams the door open.

It hits the wall so hard it rebounds back into Jason’s hand. You jump at the sound, nearly poking Damian with the needle in your hand.

“Watch it, idiot!” Damian snaps. To Jason, he says, “You just dented your wall. Moron.”

“Don’t talk to them like that,” Jason says sternly. God, he knows why the brat is so prickly, but he still got on Jason’s last nerves. He checks the wall, hoping the brat exaggerated, but nope. Another dent to match the nicks, scrapes, and bullet holes that already littered his apartment.

He is never getting back his security deposit.

You’re about to stitch up a cut on Damian’s arm when Jason clucks his tongue. “That doesn’t look good.” The bandage around your arm is sodden with blood.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you say dismissively. “Ready, Dami?”

Interestingly enough, the brat doesn’t tell you off for giving him a nickname. It seems to be a privilege reserved exclusively for you and Dick; every time Jason tries, he’s vehemently told off.

Then again, his nicknames are usually derogatory. That might contribute to it a little bit.

Damian sets his jaw and you stitch him up quickly, murmuring, “I’m sorry,” every time his fingers twitch—the only indication of pain he’ll show. Jason eyes the bandage around your arm with worry, but the blood stain doesn’t grow any more in the interim.

As soon as you tie off the thread, Damian hops to his feet and scurries for the bathroom. You start to get up, brow pinched with worry, but Jason says, “Let me look at your arm.”

Your eyes take a while to slide from the shut bathroom door to Jason’s face, but then you say, “Yeah, okay,” and sink back into your chair.

To distract you as he unpeels the sticky bandage from your arm, Jason asks, “So you’re on babysitting duty now, huh?”

“Oh, no, Damian and I patrol together every Friday night.” You use finger quotes with the other hand and say, “B think it ‘promotes more accountability’ when someone gets injured during patrol if they have a partner.”

Jason frowns at the sight of the cut. It’s obviously from a knife, and not pretty, exactly, but also not big enough to let out as much blood as soaked through the bandage. “Who did this to you?”

“Just a typical goon. It’s really not a big deal.” Your eyes follow Jason’s gaze. “I guess it bled a lot, huh? Like a head wound. You know, disproportionate.” You tug your sleeve over the wound.

“Y/N is not as weak as the rest of you,” Damian sneers, having vacated the bathroom on silent feet. You jump, and so does Jason, even though he has Batman-honed instincts.

There’s just something intoxicating about your presence. You’re… distracting.

It was manageable back before Jason was Robin and you were one of his classmates. You were obsessed with Batman and crimefighting, and Jason was a bookworm, so your friendship shouldn’t have worked, but it did.

Then, ironically, Bruce Wayne adopted him and Jason became the crimefighter. He never told you about his identity to protect Bruce’s, but you figured it out when he died.

Then he came back to Gotham, hellbent on revenge, and burned every bridge he’d ever built. Including the one with you.

Jason still could barely believe you give him the time of day after all the awful things he’d said and done. But you’re just as obsessed with redemption and forgiveness as Bruce, and he will never take that for granted.

His fascination with you was manageable before Jason died, but it’s downright consuming now.

Jason can’t believe how you’d grown up to be so… so flat-out amazing. Graceful, and maybe not as skilled at hand-to-hand as the rest of Gotham’s vigilantes, but you adapt with a long-range fighting style. You’re strong, and self-assured, and really, seriously gorgeous.

Jason realizes his hand is still on your arm, touching the soft skin, and he yanks it away as if burnt. He doesn’t understand how you remain so scar-free despite years of crimefighting, and he’s abruptly self-conscious about the marks that litter his torso, arms, and legs. Your eyes roam over them, lingering on his chest and stomach

He’s most self-conscious about the jagged ‘J’ carved into his cheek, and Jason tries to cover it with his hand without drawing attention. That doesn’t work—he looks like a weirdo waving his hands around—so he tilts his cheek away so you don’t have to see it anymore.

You clear your throat and look away, as if embarrassed for some reason.

Damian’s gaze pingpongs between the two of you before he rolls his eyes, sighing dramatically. “Are you two finished?”

You push away from the table and make a grabby hand. Damian rolls his eyes again, but he sidles closer, and you check his stitched cut. Your thumb rubs over the raised line of stitches like you’re trying to wipe his pain away.

Jason realizes he’s staring at the bottom lip you’re jutting out in sympathy. He flushes again.

After everything he did, he can’t expect anything more than friendship from you. If that’s what you’re willing to give, he’ll never push for more.

“I am fine, Y/N,” Damian said, pushing your hand away, albeit gently. A hint of whine entered his voice and Jason blinked. It wasn’t often that he heard Damian sound like an actual kid. “Can we resume patrol now?”

“Wait,” Jason hears someone say, and it’s—him, he’s the one saying it. “Are you hungry? I have a casserole in the oven.”

Damian snorts. “My apologies. I did not know you had adopted the personality of a middle-aged white wom—”

You cover Damian’s mouth with your hand and say, “That sounds great, Jay. Thanks.”

Jason’s greedy. He’ll take whatever scraps he can get from you.

The three of you eat, the conversation pleasant whenever Damian isn’t threatening Jason because Jason taunted him. You laugh as they bicker, used to the antics of Gotham’s vigilantes by now.

Once everyone is done, it’s just about time for the Red Hood to start his patrol, so with a little cajoling from you, Damian agrees to let Jason tag along until your patrol ends. Jason suits up, and you lead the charge out of his apartment window, followed by Damian. Jason is last out, stopping briefly to make sure the window latches before stepping off the fire escape.

The sensation of his stomach rising is familiar from so many years of grappling through the city, but no less exhilarating. He follows your and Robin’s flipping shapes as the two of you tear through the city. The bright primary color accents on Robin’s suit and the pale gray color of your own shouldn’t blend in so well with Gotham’s shadows, but you and Damian manage pretty well. It turns into kind of a game of tag, and whenever he gets close enough, you grin and twist away, muffling laughter behind one hand.

He could definitely catch you, but he thinks you’re enjoying the game of cat-and-mouse just as much as he, if not more.

Jason’s just thinking to himself that there’s not much crime tonight when the Batsignal lights up the sky.

“Way to ruin the mood,” he grumbles. The game is over. The three of you grapple toward the giant light without any more flipping or laughter.

Jim Gordon obviously isn’t expecting them when they land. After all, it’s common knowledge that Ghoul is a Bat-affiliate, but Red Hood’s alliance with the Batclan is still relatively new. Shaky.

And a lot of people still think the Red Hood hates Ghoul. Admittedly, the way Jason tried to kill you when he returned hadn’t helped the rumors.

It made sense at the time. He’d also tried to kill Batman, Nightwing, and Robin, so it’s not like it was entirely personal. You don’t hold a grudge.

“Where’s Batman?” is his first question.

You shrug. “Running late.”

Jason’s not sure if that’s true. With you and Robin patrolling Newtown and Otisburg, Spoiler and Red Robin handling everything from the Coventry to the Upper East Side, and Black Bat and Batwing watching over everything else but the Tricorner, the city is in pretty good hands for the night.

And yes, Jason’s knowledge about patrol schedules is from his days as a crime lord, but it still comes in handy as a reformed vigilante.

“Why did you summon us here, Commissioner?” Robin asks.

“Bane escaped Arkham earlier tonight,” says the Commissioner. “We have reason to believe he’s hiding out in Amusement Mile. The Joker’s not out, for one, and we have a… witness… that claims to have seen Bane in the park.”

“Where is this witness?” Robin demands.

“In our holding cell, sobering up,” Gordon says with a long-suffering sigh.

“Oh, great,” Jason says. “So it might have been Bane, or it might have been one of those giant stuffed bears at every amusement park.”

You elbow him in the side and promise Gordon, “We’ll check it out, Commish. Let you know when he’s handled again!”

You and Robin balance on the edge of the roof. Jason asks in a low tone, “Batman’s not coming tonight, is he?” He would have already been here.

You and Robin share a guilty look.

Jason sighs. Bane is a tough opponent, possibly their strongest rogue. It’ll take a lot of force to bring him down… force he’s not sure you and Robin can muster. You’re good vigilantes, don’t get him wrong, but Robin is a prepubescent boy and has the height and muscle mass to show for it. You’re strong and graceful and should be fine as long as you keep your distance, but Jason’s the only one that comes close to Bane in terms of muscle mass.

It’ll be up to him to keep the two of you safe.

“I think I parked my bike somewhere around here,” you say. “It’ll get us there faster than grappling.”

Jason thinks something is stuck in his throat. He croaks, “You have a motorcycle?”

You nod. He can’t see your face beneath the mask, but he’s pretty sure you’re smiling. “Got it just a couple weeks ago, but I needed Earl to paint it over.”

“It is parked in that alley.” Robin points.

“Okay,” Jason says. “You two drive to my apartment. I’ll follow above, then we’ll head to Amusement Mile.”

“Aye-aye,” you joke. “Come on, bud.”

You and Robin swing away, the younger boy loudly complaining about the myriad nicknames you think up for him. Jason swings away to get a headstart. A minute later, the sound of a bike engine revving hits Jason’s ears, and it isn’t long after that he looks down to see you and Robin on a pale bike painted in the same colors as your suit.

You look up and wave.

Jason almost misses his next swing. He swallows and has to look away. Seeing you on a motorcycle…

As soon as he puts the key in his bike’s ignition, you speed away, tires squealing against the asphalt. Jason grins and twists the throttle. He shoots onto the street and hunches low to decrease wind resistance, pushing the bike hard to catch up to you.

You wear no helmet, but you’d forced Robin to wear one. He sits behind you on the bike, arms locked around your waist. At the sight of Jason, he makes a rude gesture, but Jason just huffs out a laugh. The brat likes to aggravate him on purpose, but it’s hard to feel annoyed when he drives next to you, racing side-by-side.

It doesn’t take long to reach Amusement Mile. You and Jason shift gears, rolling to a stop.

“You and Robin go high,” Jason instructs. “I’ll go low.”

“Roger.” You kick the stand for your bike, then you and Robin shoot your grapples for the nearest roof.

In seconds, the two of you are out of sight.

Jason swallows. He hates this strip of clown-themed land. The Joker isn’t in it currently, but it still reminds him of that madman.

Come on. He shakes himself. Jason can’t afford to get distracted. Bane is dangerous.

Jason makes no effort to muffle the sounds of his footsteps as he strolls through the park. A plastic bag drifts along the path with a gust of wind, and a couple bowling pins on the ground roll. But apart from that, the park is empty and quiet.

Too quiet.

Jason turns just in time to avoid a crushing blow to his head.

He hits the ground rolling and comes up with guns blazing. Bullets deflect off Bane’s armor, and he doesn’t seem to feel the ones that burrow into his skin.

“You will not stop me, Red Hood,” says the mechanized voice. “No one will stop me in my pursuit to break Batman, even though he sent you in his place.”

“He didn’t send me,” says Jason.

Help comes from above. A steel bola—one of your weapons of choice—whips through the air and wraps around Bane’s throat. He chokes and reaches up to untangle it. At the same time, a Batarang slices through the air and cuts straight through one of the hoses pumping super-steroid into his body.

He groans. Drops to one knee.

Jason spares a glance to the rooftops, but he only sees Robin.

That moment of distraction costs him. Bane surges back to his feet and tackles him. Jason hits the ground, the back of his head colliding against the pavement so hard his vision blacks out for a moment.

He blinks away the darkness in time to see a punishing fist aimed right for his head. There’s not enough time to dodge. Jason can only brace for an impact… that never comes.

The hook of a grapple is embedded into Bane’s wrist. Its line is taught. On the roof of a decrepit popcorn stand, Robin yanks back with all his might.

Jason knees Bane in the crotch, then elbows him in the face.

Bane grunts and yanks his arm forward, pulling Robin right to the ground in a flutter of cape, but Jason slips out from beneath him and rolls to his feet. Bane may be strong, and his hits may hurt, but that’s only if they connect. And Bane isn’t very fast.

The engine of a bike roars, and your voice shouts, “Hood, out of the way!”

Jason obeys without thinking. It’s a good thing he doesn’t hesitate, because he barely dodges your motorcycle before you ram it full-speed into Bane.

Not even the giant can resist a motorcycle going full-throttle. He topples back, and you keep driving, treating his body like a ramp.

Jason laughs despite himself. “I can see tire tracks on your face, ugly!” He and Robin throw knives at the same time. Robin’s slices off another steroid line. Jason’s lodges in Bane’s shoulder. It should have severed his deltoid, leaving his arms useless, but the man doesn’t react to the pain at all.

Getting run over pisses Bane off. You turn in a sharp circle on the bike and rev your engine, obviously ready to try the same trick twice.

But Jason sees the tension in Bane’s legs, and he’s shouting for you to stop after you start.

You don’t listen. You just drive.

Bane sidesteps your bike at the last possible second, and his arm shoots out. His hand is large enough to wrap around your entire throat, and it yanks you off your bike, which skids away with a screech of tire and metal. You choke, scrabbling at the iron fingers around your throat.

Jason has his gun out in a second, but Bane holds your body in front of his. So Jason shoots his foot. It doesn't have an effect.

“Ghoul!” Robin shouts. He unsheathes his katana.

“I tire of this,” Bane says through his modulator.

He snaps your neck.

“NO!”

It’s like the world slows down. Jason can only watch as Bane carelessly drops your lifeless body.

He sees Robin lunge with his sword. He sees Bane casually backhand him so hard he drops his katana. Robin flies backward, hits the popcorn stand, and slumps to the ground, motionless.

Bane steps on you—your body—and something in your spine cracks. Something in Jason’s chest cracks, too, and he sees green.

The Pit surges.

After it recedes, Robin’s katana is lodged firmly in a moaning Bane’s side. Every one of his steroid pumps is severed, and his mask is cracked. He’s weak enough without his Venom that three Bat-restraints and a set of handcuffs can hold him.

Huh. Jason’s surprised he didn’t kill him.

His knuckles are bleeding; they’re slick inside his gloves. When he flexes his fingers, pain screams up his nerves, through his arm all the way to his heart. At least two are broken, and another knuckle might be dislocated. His jaw hurts, his brain is pounding—concussion, probably—and his knee feels swollen. But he can put pressure on it, at least, and he limps to a stirring Robin.

“Hey,” Jason says. His voice is rough. He doesn’t remember yelling. He tries to crouch, but can’t with the stiff knee, so he just kind of collapses in front of the kid. “Robin. Status report.”

The kid looks at him, wobbling even though he’s sitting down. One hand goes up to touch the back of his head, and the tips of his gloves gleam with dark blood when he pulls it back. “Possible concussion,” he says with a wavering voice. “Ribs—”

Robin gasps and stumbles to his feet.

“Don’t—”

Jason tries to grab him, but Robin wobbles out of his reach. He walks hunched over in a zigzag, limping to your—

Jason grunts and stands back up. “Hey, hey, Robin.” He gets between the kid and you. “Don’t. Don’t—don’t look.”

“Do not stop me, Todd,” hisses the kid, and wow, he must be seriously out of it to use Jason’s civilian name. “Let me see them.”

“You don’t want to,” Jason says grimly. He’s seen snapped necks before, and they’re… Well, they’re as unnatural-looking as they sound.

He hears a rushing in his ears. A wave of grief is cresting, ready to sweep him away, but Jason has to keep it together for Robin. He barely hears his own voice when he says, “Ghoul’s gone.” He can’t say the ‘D’ word. Not when he feels like puking.

“Unhand me, you blackguard,” Robin hissed. “You do not understand. They might be—”

“They’re not.”

“Todd!” the kid says, voice rising into a shrill.

Something clicks behind them.

Jason whirls around to make sure Bane hasn’t broken out of his restraints.

He hasn’t.

So what made the noise?

He and Robin are looking right at the body when some invisible force takes your head and—and wrenches it.

Robin lets out a low cry.

Jason feels frozen. He doesn’t stop the kid when he stumbles forward and collapses next to the body. His shoulders shake, head bowed with grief.

Jason is still watching when he sees your chest rise and fall with a breath.

“Oh, what the fuck,” he whispers, stumbling back. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the—”

Your head raises, and you reach to your neck with a wince.

Robin freezes.

“Ow,” you grumble, pushing up to your elbows. “That sucked.”

“What the fuck?” Jason exclaims.

“What is going on?” Robin demands.

You look between the two vigilantes. “Sorry to freak you out, guys.” Which is a completely underwhelming thing to say when you just died and then unsnapped your own neck.

Robin makes a low, wounded sound, then throws himself at you, wrapping his arms around your neck and squeezing hard. You hug him back just as tight, murmuring low things that Jason tries not to hear. It’s a personal moment, and he feels like an intruder, but he can’t move. His feet are planted to the ground.

Seconds ago, you’d been dead. No doubt about it. Bane had snapped your neck and you had crumbled like paper.

Now you’re breathing and alive.

It doesn’t compute. It doesn’t make any sense.

Robin comes to the same conclusion, because he pulls away and pinches your arm. “How is this possible?”

“Bud, do you remember when… you remember when Pyg got me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I don’t,” says Jason. Professor Pyg kidnapped you? What the fuck? When did that happen?

You look up at him, still holding Robin close. “We weren’t exactly on speaking terms when it happened, Hood.”

Oh.

“But Father ran his tests and said his experimentation just gave you advanced healing,” says Robin.

“Which is technically true—”

“Resurrection is quite different from healing!” the kid says.

“Wait, you knew they had powers?” Jason asks Robin.

The kid sneers at him. “Of course. I was the one that found Ghoul, and I patrol with them at least once a week. It would take an unobservant fool to miss their obvious healing abilities."

Jason bristles with indignation.

Robin's head turns on a swivel to glare at you. "It was less obvious that you have nothing to fear from physical injuries. Informing me of this fact would have greatly reduced the chances of experiencing emotional distress at the sight of your dead, mangled body."

"I know," you say, cupping his chin in your hand. "I'm really, really sorry, Dami."

"Do not address me as such," he says, "we are in costume." Robin huffs and scrambles out of your lap, brushing debris off his suit. Then he wobbles and nearly falls over, and you lunge to catch him.

"Woah, bud, you okay?"

"He's concussed," Jason says.

"Too concussed to ride on the back of my bike?"

"Of course not," says Robin. Then he leans over and pukes.

"Oh, Batman's gonna kill me," you mutter.

It's a much tamer drive to the Batcave, in case Robin rolls off the bike accidentally. He doesn't, but you do have to stop a couple of times so he can lean over the side and retch.

When all is said and done and you're back at the Cave and Alfred and Bruce are fussing over Damian, you and Jason hang back a bit. He can't stop sneaking glances at you. Your Ghoul mask is off, and there's a little dried blood around your nostrils, and your hair is a little sweaty, but you're the most beautiful thing Jason's ever seen.

You're alive. He can hardly believe it.

You suddenly sigh and mutter, "I guess you're mad at me, too?"

"What?" Jason startles.

"For not telling you about my abilities."

"Y/N—"

"I just didn't want you guys to think of me differently. Duke has his powers, yeah, but he was born with them. I got mine from Pyg. I didn't want everyone to start treating me like a victim."

All things considered, you're remarkably well-adjusted for someone that survived Professor Pyg's experimentation. "You're the strongest person I've ever met, Y/N," says Jason. "Your powers don't change that. They make me feel a little better about you patrolling at night, anyway. They're basically like... a second chance."

You snort. "I think I'm on my fifth chance by this point."

Jason shakes his head. "How did you keep your powers a secret, again?"

"Well, the first time, Pyg shut off my heart, but that didn't shut down my body. When I actually noticed that I couldn't die, though, was that time one of Cobblepot's goons stabbed me in the neck and I woke up in the middle of a shootout. Now that wasn't fun." You grimace. "A bullet caught me in the head and I died as soon as I sat up. The Bats were too preoccupied to notice me, luckily. Then there was that time with the poison dart that I kept a secret, and now this time." You smirk, cross your arms, and bump Jason's hip with your own. "I'm beating you in the resurrection department, aren't I?"

Jason huffs, pretending to be offended, and your eyes widen. "Oh, my God. That was in such poor taste. I'm so sorry."

"No," he says, trying to hide the twist of his lips. If it was anyone else saying it, Jason would probably kill them. "No, it's okay. I'm just glad you're all right. It would have been awful if you'd died and I never took the chance to..."

"Chance to what?" You look up at him through your eyelashes.

Jason's breath catches in his throat. He's never done this before, dammit, but seeing you die today made him remember just how limited their time is as vigilantes.

Well, maybe not yours, but he walks a thin line.

"Doyouwanttogetcoffeewithme?"

You blink. "What?"

"Do you," Jason says slowly, feeling sweat prickle on his hairline, "want to... Um. Get coffee? With me. As in, like—"

"A date?"

"Only if you want to."

You nod, eyes sparkling. "Hell yeah I want to!"

Damian, Bruce, and Alfred look over at your raised voice. Their disapproving smiles are all eerily similar.

"Sorry," you whisper. You look back at Jason and say, "Yeah, I'd like that. I've been waiting ages for you to ask."

Yes. You said yes. Adrenaline rushes through Jason's veins, and he only barely resists the urge to pump his fist in the air like a moron. He's brave enough to tease, "Well, why didn't you ask me?"

Your face flushes and you look away.

It's at that moment that Damian calls, "Y/N. Stop twittering with Todd and come here. Your presence is required."

"Seriously," Jason said under his breath, "the way he talks like a Victorian child doesn't bother you at all?"

You're smiling. "I think he's adorable." You walk backwards to the brat, making a phone gesture with your hand and mouthing to Jason, Call me.

He definitely will.

"Master Jason," comes Alfred's disapproving voice when he turns back to his bike. "Don't think I didn't notice that you have your own injuries to tend to."

Of course, that sets off Bruce's worry alert even more.

Jason groans. He won't be able to sneak out for coffee with you for an entire week after this whole debacle.

DC Taglist

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts

Forever tag list

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit  @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

Let me know if there's anything you guys want to see with Jason in the future. My requests are open!

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in Your Area

Chapter 1

“A cult?” Jason blew out a bubble and enjoyed the disgusted face that Bruce made.

“Yes.” His voice was tight. Jason could tell that he wanted to turn back to the Batcomputer. “They’re operating in Park Row-”

“Crime Alley.”

Batman sighed and accepted the correction. “I would like to propose a joint operation.” He sounded so tired and not very optimistic.

Jason eyed up his on-again-off-again Father figure and popped his gum, thinking it over. Bruce clearly expected him to say no, fuck off, and take the information himself.

He could. There was nothing wrong with that.

“Sure, old man.” He clapped Bruce on the shoulder and finished screwing together the tool he’d brought in for maintenance. He’d had to fabricate a new part and the Red Hood didn’t exactly have the equipment for that in his two room apartment. “Thursday night alright?”

“They’ve a planned meeting on Wednesday, actually,” Bruce said, frowning slightly at him but looking soft around the eyes with confused hope. “Would that be possible? They seem to gather mid-week.”

Jason let out a sigh. “I can make it work. Ta, old man.” He made sure to toss off an especially insouciant salute as he sauntered away. Sure, he was willing to put a little effort into maintaining their relationship, but he couldn’t be too compliant. If you gave Bruce an hour of your time, he wrote you down on the schedule for an hour every day until one of you fuckin’ died in a warehouse explosion. Something like that.

He wasn’t that trusting, though. Jason took the information that Bruce emailed him and did his own legwork. He wasn’t stubborn enough to bother redoing digital work that Bruce had done or gotten from Babs. That would be a waste of his time, and he valued his time. But he scoped out the cult’s meeting place.

Of all the undignified things, it was a rented room in the community center. Jason found himself sheepishly breaking into the office to check on the reservation and poking around the room itself.

There was nothing special about it. It was a shitty room with shitty paneled walls and cheap, well-trodden grey carpet. It boasted a few too many tables, arranged in a U shape, and a whiteboard pushed up against the wall that hadn’t been cleaned off well enough to erase what he was pretty sure was a reference to their lord and savior, destroyed of worlds.

So. That was a point for Bruce’s cult thing.

He hadn’t really doubted it, if he was honest, given that this had originated in a tip from Zatanna. She had told him as a courtesy that some creep had moved their base of recruiting and operations into Gotham.

Apparently, recruitment was going pretty well. The room could seat like, twenty? Jason counted chairs and left.

He came back on Wednesday at 8pm with the Batman and an attempt at a good attitude. He probably wasn’t going to need any of the weapons on his person. They were going to check in so that this guy knew they had an eye on him and that he would be suspect number one if there was any hint of people or cats being sacrificed.

Bruce fucked off to peer in the windows, like the giant caped creep he was. Jason took the front door, nodded congenially at the old man in the office, and knocked at the room the cultists had reserved.

He could hear Bruce internally curse through the comm. It was silent, of course, but the quality of the silence changed. “Knock knock,” he called, since a literal knock hadn’t done it. He opened the door without waiting. “Just checking in, heard you’re new to town and that you tried to feed Zatanna’s shitty little cousin to the god of Death?”

The room stared at him. A whiteboard marker squeaked to a stop. He idly followed the sound to the board. A …. Huh. that looked like some kind of mystical bullshit.

“You’ve been touched by death,” said the fraud himself, a man in his fifties with a wildly pretentious robe that was wrinkled from the paper bag he’d clearly used to carry it in. He outstretched the hand that didn’t have a blue whiteboard marker in it. “You would be a perfect sacrifice to our Lord.”

“So will it be,” said about half the people there, at the same time a young woman said, “No shit?” in an impressed tone.

Jason rolled his eyes through the helmet, unintimidated by the room of weirdos standing up. The kind of people who gathered at a community center on a Wednesday night were not going to summon the God of Death. Light glinted off the window where Batman was clearly weighing the possibility of breaking glass and swinging in. Jason silently waved him off with a headshake. They weren’t to the point of property damage yet. He took a couple of steps into the room with deliberate swagger. “What a lucky guess,” he drawled. “The Red Hood has had brushes with death? No one but a legitimate prophet could possibly make such a statement.”

“I’m not a prophet,” said the man, and turned back to his white board. “I’m a devote.” He rubbed out a line with the meat of his hand and then hurriedly wrote in ‘The Red Hood’ in a tilted cursive. “The sacrifice!” he shouted, throwing his arms wide and accidentally making a big blue line through his evil little sigil or whatever it was. The elderly lady to Jason’s right opened up her bag, thrust her hand in, and came up with a fistful of -

“Salt?” Jason asked, confused and unimpressed as the silly twit threw her handful of salt at him. “Thanks, I’m better seasoned now,” he snarked. He pulled out a gun easily. “Alright, let’s get serious. I-”

The whiteboard was glowing. The blue letters were glowing green.

“What the fuck?” Jason said. The windows exploded with broken glass as Batman decided now was the time to make his entrance. He barely got to see it before something hooked unpleasantly on his body and soul and twisted it sideways.

The world was green now. Holy shit. Jason spun a circle on uneven ground and gaped. “...Egg on my face,” he said. “I’ve been sacrificed. Consider me embarrassed.” A quick check showed that his comm was useless. It was giving off a steady little eeee of static that kinda sounded like screams. Whimsical. Jason turned it off.

He wasn’t panicking yet. The void wasn’t that freaky. It was weird, sure, but there weren’t any demons or enemies. He flicked the safety off his favorite gun just in case and frowned into the darkness.

It was like he was standing under a spotlight with no light source. There was ambient lighting in all directions, but the world faded into darkness only a few dozen feet away. He took some experimental steps to determine that, yeah, the field of visibility traveled with him.

Well. Time to get moving. Jason walked. There was nothing for the first - hour, he was gonna call it an hour. He got antsy and started jogging. The green stretched on, placid and infinite in a way that was really starting to piss him off. “Hey!” Jason barked into the void. “Anyone there?”

There was an answering electronic whirr. He stopped in his tracks. Jason looked in every direction, including up, and only saw the fucking thing when it was basically on top of him.

The vehicle was probably most equivalent to a spaceship, he decided, as what was probably a 3-man craft at most parked. The top clicked. It opened from the top and someone bounded out. “Hey!” came an annoyed male voice. “What’s the deal, bud?” The stranger landed in front of Jason with crossed arms and a pissy expression. His white hair floated above his head as if he was the little fucking mermaid in the ocean.

Jason scowled, the back of his mind cataloging the other guy’s outfit as pristine and undamaged and his musculature as athletic. “What’s it to you?” he asked, defensive. He didn’t know if it was safe to give information to this guy. “I might be a little lost,” Jason conceded.

“A little lost,” the guy repeated, and then- okay, he flew in a weird little flippy circle, scowling all the while as Jason gaped. “A little lost.” He scoffed. Then he let out a sigh that made his whole body look smaller. He uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his hair. “This is a weird question,” he said, making it sound more defensive than apologetic. “Did you uh.” He scowled, like the words were distasteful. “Look,” he tried again. “Are you delulu, or did you get caught up as the sacrificial bride? I told Frank to knock that shit off.”

Sacrificial bride. Jason felt his brain go offline for a moment. Say what now.

“Helloooo,” the… was this rando a god of death? He was impatient. He flew way up into Jason’s personal space and snapped his fingers. “Someone just smashed metal trash bins together at my grave to get my attention, basically. No, it’s more like one of those spam pop ups that says there’s hot girls in your area?” He made a gesture at Jason. “Only it’s loud. It’s ringing in my ears, and I had to come track you down. Do you think this is funny?”

“...Sacrificial bride?” Jason finally managed to croak out.

Weirdly, this made the other guy relax immediately. “Just found out, huh,” he said, sounding much more sympathetic. “Yeah, okay, we need to sort out a spiritual divorce immediately. And then you can go home and there will be no more hot girls in my area and I can get back to my ess- my work.”

Jason took a few moments of grief and confusion to accept his apparent status. “We’re married?” he said weakly.

The white haired man looked a little sheepish. “Marriage is probably not quite accurate,” he said, and Jason felt a little bit of relief before the guy continued, “It’s more like you’re my concubine?” He sounded mortified by this. “I didn’t want this!”

“No, no,” Jason said, meaning both that he believed it and that he needed this conversation to change directions immediately. “I- who are you?” He gestured at his– what the fuck was the other side of a concubine relationship? King was the associated word that came up, but that…

“I’m nobody, really,” said the white haired man weakly. “But I may technically be King of ghosts or whatever. The Infinite Realms.” He scratched at his face. “So… yeah.”

They stood in utterly mortified silence for a long moment before he seemed to remember something. “You can call me Danny,” he offered.

“...Call me Jason,” he said.

“Thanks, Jason,” Danny said genially. “So, uh, this is a mess, right?” He started floating away backwards. “I’m going to hunt down my mentor and advisor and get some uh- advice, I guess. Do you wanna come with? Or should I come back and check in once I’ve heard from him?”

Jason weighed up his situation, the conventional wisdom about getting in vehicles with strange men, and wondered how useless his gun was going to be in this situation. Danny had never reacted to it being pointed at him, so his guess was ‘utterly unhelpful’. He put it away. “I’d like a ride, thanks,” he said dryly.

They made some stilted conversation on the ride. Danny was clearly trying to hold back and give him no identifying information. That was fascinating, because it implied that there was something Jason could do from the human world to track Danny down. It was also reassuring because there was no reason to withhold information if he’d planned to keep Jason prisoner, so, ya know, that was a good sign.

Anyway, Jason got a lot of information from Danny.

Danny was a terrible liar and he misspoke like, all the time. Jason was pretty sure he was in the ghost equivalent of school, like college or something. He talked like someone in Jason’s age group would, so he’d probably died very recently. Maybe he had been a college student when he’d died and he just hadn’t given up on that degree yet, honestly. Jason managed to drag the conversation around to education. He got nowhere with asking about literature but he hit the jackpot with science. Danny was still babbling about a telescope when he landed the …ship outside of a wonky clocktower.

Jason took off his safety belt and froze in his tracks when Danny absently stopped him with a cool hand. Jason looked down at that hand.

“You had better stay here,” Danny said. He shook his head slightly. “Clocky doesn’t like everyone.”

He melted into the chair as if he had never wanted to get up. “Alright,” Jason said.

Danny was out of the spaceship by the time that Jason realized something was very wrong with that interaction.

He hadn’t decided to sit down. He hadn’t wanted to sit back down. Did- did he actually think it was reasonable to stay behind, or would he have argued and gone in normally?

‘...I think Danny did something.’ Suspicion swirled in his gut. Jason tried to take the safety belt off and stand up. He couldn’t. It was like his muscles wouldn’t respond to it.

Well, that was pretty fuckin’ evil. His pulse picked up in his throat. It… It was some kind of compulsion? He had to do what Danny told him to do? That was really fucked up. He was starting to feel really unsafe now. He wished he’d hung back with Bruce. He wanted someone to bring him home. And weirdly, he felt betrayed. He hardly trusted Danny, didn’t know the fucker well enough to, but he hadn’t gotten that impression off the guy–

‘It wasn’t him,’ Jason realized. ‘It was the binding ritual. Danny said it wasn’t like a marriage, it’s not equal. That’s why I did what Danny wanted me to do.’

Well. Well then. If Danny didn’t know that Jason had to follow his orders, Jason was most fucking certainly not going to spell it out for him. It was a grim calculation to make, but it seemed the safest. As it was, Danny seemed to want to get rid of him as fast as possible.

So that was it. He’d play along and get Danny to spit him back out into Gotham, a young hot divorcé free on the streets.

[eupheme]

— yours, all yours

cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 2.3k

tags: cooper pov, jealous and possessive!reader, sort-of alternate timeline (ft. a fo4 character), cooper is an ass, partners-with-benefits, mutual yearning, light angst, intentional pushing/teasing, soft thoughts, kissing, oral sex, praise kink, biting and marking, come swallowing

a/n: @aliisa-jones left a sweet comment on mine, all mine that got stuck in my head, so this is a “what-if” situation that I whipped up today, with reader being the jealous one (with Coop & Nora on the other side)!

Cooper can’t help the little bark of a laugh when he realizes - disbelief woven into the sharp sound that spills from him.

Goddamn. His little wastelander might just be jealous.

Cooper’s always been a perceptive man. Able to read people when it mattered - a real helping hand during his time in Hollywood.

Even more so now - gun drawn and ready before they’re even figuring their own conclusion. Twisting the situation to his benefit.

So he doesn’t know why it took him so damn long this time.

Two days to notice, after they picked up that Vaultie. Made from before - like he was - on her way to New Vegas.

A pinch of curiosity had plucked at him with her addition, but nothing more. Had been a rare indulgence to have someone understand all the shit he says, unable to help the occasional age-old idioms that have still lingered inside his mind.

But something about her had set you on edge. He’d thought you’d like her. Two peas in a pod, annoying the shit out of him with idle chatter during the long hours on the road.

You had bristled. Narrowed eyes and distrusting. Wondered if that’s the way he looked, half the time.

Wasn’t until you started to move, that he really noticed. Wandering closer than he’s used to. Finding reasons to pass by him, your ass pressing snug his front. Your pretty tits pushed up against his arm, leaning close to ask him something.

Pretty eyes blinking his way, hanging onto every word.

Riling him up.

Acting like a cat in heat. As if there were pink clouds of perfume drifting off you, spelling out “mine” as they settled over his clothes.

Funny, once he’s got it figured out.

Not sure how he missed it before.

The jealousy that oozes from you. His eyes going to yours each time that frown crosses your face.

Nora is a handsome woman. He’s got eyes, after all - yhey hadn’t rotted away like the rest of him. Can appreciate where she’s come from, deep down, though he’d never say it.

But he seen lots of good-looking people throughout his time walking this earth. And even back when he was just a man, that sort of thing never swayed him.

He’d buried old Cooper Howard some two hundred years ago. A mercy - tucking his corpse away deep in the labyrinth of his soul, as the Ghoul was reborn into rot and ruin.

A place he isn’t sure how to get to anymore, but sometimes there’s still bits of him that linger. Flowers sprouting up through concrete.

Loyal, perhaps, in spite of it all. When it suits him.

Besides, it's been a while since he’s tasted fruit so sweet. Biting down until you’re gushing against his tongue. Supposed he’s not looking to ruin a good thing.

But despite all that, he decides lets it all play out. Amused at the thought.

Seeing where it goes.

Let’s himself appear at-ease, when Nora slinks closer. A cocked brow bone at the low purr of her voice as they pick through an old house - clearing it for the night.

“You mod that yourself?” Her eyes drag slowly across him, down to the holster that rests at his hip, “Didn’t take you for a handyman, cowboy.”

“Sure did,” Cooper drawls - the shotgun slung across his back held loosely in his hand, as his eye scan the old dining room. “You pick up a few new things, out here.”

Had to, to survive. His clothes a patchwork of black thread, holding together ripped seams. Weapons had come next, not like he hadn’t had the time to learn.

“Can I see?”

She’s reaching for him, and he lets her. His eyes flicking towards you as she slips the gun from his holster, fingers curling around the grip.

“Modified MTs255,” He explains, as she turns it over in her hand. Purposeful in the way she moves - with the slow, admiring brush and stroke of fingers, “Changed it from a side-loader to a-"

“Top-break.” She muses with a nod, her shoulder brushing his as she flicks at the lever. A smirk, as she glances his way - her eyebrow lifting this time, “How’s she handle?”

There’s a soft lilt to her voice. Easy to pick up on - especially with the way she smiles, tongue caught between the white of her teeth.

“Oh, I’d say she handles just fine.” He lets the words turn sweet, smooth as honey as they leave his tongue.

You make a frustrated sound, then. A little whine in the back of your throat that he barely catches, before you’re turning sharply on your heel. Stomping off deeper into the house, and he can’t help the smirk that curls at the edges of his lips.

“See for yourself,” He's quick to excuses himself, leaving the gun in Nora's possession. Peeling away from the Vaultie, not sparing her a second glance. If she calls after him - he doesn’t hear it.

His steps purposely slow as he follows behind you. Letting you simmer.

You don’t notice as he slips in the doorway behind you. A head cocked in interest as you wrench open old cabinets. Breath heavy, a rough hiss between your teeth as your fingers clench into fists against the counter.

“That'd get you killed.” He comments, idly, “Runnin’ off like that.”

A little gasp as you whirl. Your hand doesn’t even twitch towards your gun, and he'd not sure if that annoys him. Or if he knows you knew it was him by the low rasp of his voice.

“Didn’t think you’d notice,” You sniff, head quick to turn away. Eager to break eye contact, arms crossing tightly over your chest.

A huff of a laugh rumbles in his chest, “Now what makes you say that, sweetheart?”

You blink at him, his spurs jangling as he closes the space. Hands pressing flat on either side of your hips, a flash of teeth as he waits.

“She-,”You huff - finger pointing accusatorily, “You let her-“

Another little sound, as your frown deepens, “Her hands were all over you, and you didn’t even care!”

It’s spat out. A kitten showing her claws, sharp little teeth bared.

Cooper lets his hips press against yours. Your hands brace against his chest, torn between pushing him away and yanking him closer.

“Takes two to tango, sweetheart.” He coos, but you just frown - not understanding.

Something in his favor. An admission you won’t get. That flicker of tenderness lost in the air.

He wonders if you’d still be angry, if you knew how long he roamed the wasteland without knowing the touch of another. That it would take more than a gun-laced innuendo to truly turn his head.

“‘Sides,” Cooper husks - finger tucking beneath your chin, “What are you goin’ to do about it?”

Needling at you. A thumb against a bruise, pressing until it stings.

Your jaw grits. Eyes searching his, fingernails pricking worn leather. Before they’re sliding up - fitting against his shoulder, around the back of his neck, as you tug him to meet you.

Pressing your lips against his. It’s possessive - an arch to your body as it curves. Tits pressed to his chest as your tongue flicks against his lower lip.

A rough groan as he parts them, as you seek more. He swallows your whine as his hands roam. Across the fat of your hip, squeezing. Fitting the curve of your waist. Palming at your breast as your hips roll against his.

Needy, in the way you gasp. Little panting breath as his head tilts. As he takes control - pressing you into the counter as he licks into your mouth.

He’s stayed away, since you picked up this new stray. Put away a lot of people, or put them in the ground. Not about to let someone use you against him.

It had him pent-up, too. Desire red-hot in his belly. Stiffening with the way you rock against him - a part of him craving the touch.

Easy then, to catch your hand. To drag it down, across the leather of his bandoiler, the heavy buckle of his belt. Pressing your palm flush against the heavy curve of his cock.

Rocking into the cup of your fingers, grinfing into your touch.

“That’s all you, sweetie.” He rasps, and you moan.

Pulling back to look down, as you trace how he strains. The heel of your palm pressing against his clothed, flushed tip, as a low growl rumbles in his throat.

Unable to hide his own need, as his tongue loosens a command.

“Why don’t you show me why I keep you ‘round.”

It’s cruel to word it that way. He’s been trying to scare you away for weeks. Knowing deep down that you’re meant for better things than him. His words now are untrue, even - he knows that.

But you do too, and you don’t care - a determination in your eyes, as they reluctantly pull up to his. Still caught on the evidence of his desire.

Fingers already fitting around his buckle - tugging.

“She might hear.” You breathe, though you don’t slow. Not until you’ve popped the button. Tugged at the zipper, a hitch in your breath as you draw him out.

He had found you tucked around the corner of the kitchen, close to an old pantry. The window behind peeking out into a long backyard. Facing towards a broken-down swing set, the grass overgrown with thick brush and weeds.

The evening sun casting blue and pink shadows, spilling over your shoulders. The room set deep against the far wall of the house.

No doors to hide behind in a kitchen like that, and you’re right - the sound might just happen to travel.

He grins, all teeth.

“Ain’t that what you want, darlin’?”

You inhale a breath.

Desire swirling in your eyes as they meet his. Sinking onto your knees without a second thought, tucked between his hips and the counter.

A small kindness, in the way his coat would block you from view, if someone were to come looking. Keeping the vision of you just for himself.

He’s biting out a curse as you take him into your mouth. The tight, wet heat as he presses against your tongue, no warning before he’s nudging against your throat.

His own hands scrape against the counter - resisting the urge to buck his hips, not wanting to gag you.

“Easy, now.” Cooper husks, something for both of you.

You hum in response - knees spreading wider. A slow bob of your head as you lick against the underside of his cock.

Eyes lifting until they’re on his. Wide and wanting as your head tips - drawing back to show how he rests against your tongue, glossy with spit.

There’s a deep throb in his core. A rattling groan as you leave him completely, your fist wrapping around his cock. Steady in the way your jerk him from base to tip, as your tongue dips down to trace against his sack.

“Fuck.” It’s bitten out, “Gotta make you jealous more often, sweetheart.”

You hum at the way he sees you so clearly. A soft suck against drawn-tight skin, before your head is turning - teeth sinking into the flesh at his hipbone.

He grunts, as his fingers jerk - clamping down against your shirt. Biting into your skin as you suck on ruined skin, the redden shade of his skin blooming darker.

Bucking into the pump of your fist, as his little wastelander marks him up. Marking a hickey along the curve of the stomach, then the meat of his thigh.

He relishes the sting. Letting you explore, as long as you keep touching him. The pleasure-pain blending into bliss as you stroke him.

There’s a tightening deep in his core, a tremor to his thighs. You go easily when he thumbs at your jaw - a soft whine buzzing in you throat that he can feel all the way down his shaft, when your lips close around him.

It has his cock jerking against his tongue.

You didn’t have memories of dirty films, the lewd magazines from before. Not knowing what it means to exaggerate pleasure for his benefit.

The need etched across your face is real - a hand dropping to nudge against your core. He’ll make up for this later, when the house is bathed in darkness. Spread you out across that dining room table he spotted, tasting what he did to you. Make you come on his cock, driving his point home.

Leaving you sticky and clenching around nothing for now. Always eager to make you learn a lesson.

“You're takin’ me so fuckin’ well.” He growls, and you shiver with the praise, “So good for me, aren’t you?”

You hum around him, your answer in the bob of your head. The sound of your fist and mouth is lewd, slick and loud. His own grunts and panting breath layering in, as everything winds tight.

Unable to help the buck of his hips, now. How expertly you work him, with none of that slow exploration when you’re alone.

Eyes focused on his face, watching what you do it him. Looking for the way his head tips back, the part of his lips.

He’s close. Can feel the way everything tightens up, that mounting pressure in his belly.

“Fuck, honey.” Cooper lets the name slip free, “‘Bout to fuckin’ come. You gonna be a good girl and swallow?”

You moan again, as you work him. Letting his hands guide you to the pace he needs. Lips glossy with spit, all but drooling as he uses you.

His breath coming short and harsh, until his teeth click sharply together. A rough groan before he’s bucking into your mouth, spilling against your tongue.

Your fist works him through it. A hand cupping his sack, gently squeezing as he throbs. Those eyes fixed greedily on his, soaking in every expression that flickers across his face.

Always good for him, and you both know it.

“Show me,” He husks, and you do - a ragged gasp as you pull of him, lips parting. The hinge of your jaw opening to show the way his come pools against the dip of your tongue.

“Fuckin’ christ,” It’s enough to have him ready to go again, if he could. “Go on, then. Swallow for me. Show me you’re mine.”

There’s the gulp as you swallow. Eyes blown wide with need as he hauls you to your feet. Your hand still drifting back to tuck around him - putting him back together, as your head tips towards his.

“Yours.” You breathe - the words hoarse as they slide from your used throat, just as you close the gap between you.

Another kiss. Softer now, though just as possessive. He can taste himself on your tongue. Always liked the way the two of you meld together.

Like it’s meant to be.

And maybe, he thinks -

Maybe a little part of him is yours, too.

ahh thank you for reading! I always love a little cooper pov, it's such a fave to write!

[luvtowa]

the little things pt 1

content: tokyo debunker ghouls x gn! reader, suggestive content. warnings: nsfw, bordering on smutty content. various sexual and non-sexual turn ons, vivid descriptions. [vagastrom edition]

summary: what turns the ghouls on

note: do lmk if you want longer versions of these :) also! do you want the jabberwock version first or the hotarubi version first? divider by @cafekitsune !!

— alan: gentle touches

alan is a the softest man you know

and that’s only after you get through his tough-man persona

but that never stopped you from being kind or gentle with him

alan knows he’s strong, even for a ghoul

which is why he’s scared to touch you

but you?

you were never scared to touch him

he doesn’t say it but he loves it when you touch him

holding his hand, intertwining your fingers, ruffling his hair, caressing his cheeks

alan gets so turned on when you touch him as if he’s the most fragile thing on earth

he feels so terrible whenever you treat him with such kindness

because all he can think about is shoving his thick cock into you

that starts a whole escapade of him avoiding you at all cost

whenever you visit the pit, he’s not there

it’s gotten to the point where leo is now teasing you whenever you pop by

‘looking for your himbo boyfriend?’

well, he wasn’t entirely wrong

after two weeks of having alan avoid you, you decided you’ve had enough

alan may have been a ghoul, but you had a secret weapon

enter tohma ishibami

he promises to help you snag alan

only for the small price of running an errand in hotarubi for him

easy task, you’ve dealt with worse (sinostra)

after completing your task, tohma promised he’d get alan for you

he never clarified how, though

so when you return to the chapel and see tohma and alan, you nearly laugh

“oh, m-mc”

he’s flustered and stuttering, looking to tohma for answers

you exchange pleasantries with the frostheim ghoul before he leaves

and you use your body to block the door (even though alan could easily move you)

alan knows he’s fucked

he doesn’t say anything. he’s ashamed.

“did i do something wrong? did i hurt you in any way?”

he winces at the sound of your voice. he can tell you’re hurt

and he can’t blame you

“i’m sorry”

his voice is low and you can tell he’s being genuine

you reach up and stroke his cheek gently before moving your hand up to play with his hair

your other hand is rubbing circles on his bruised knuckles

alan’s self control is ripping at the seam and is about to burst

the silence overwhelms him and he’s sure you never want to speak to him again

he’s about to find out how wrong he is

“i always knew you weren’t as tough as you portrayed yourself to be”

alan’s eyes snap open at your comment and he turns to look at you

the man is confused by your expression

your small smirk, the confidence in your eyes, an eyebrow arched cockily

he’s blushing like a tomato at the sight of you (he’s more turned on than ever by your confidence)

“look at you, alan”

the ghoul’s mind is racing as he looks at your finger pointing down

oh shit shit shit shit shit shit-

“i’m sorry, mc” his voice is suddenly higher as he squeezes his thighs together

he’s surprised by your deep chuckle

“don’t apologise. i love seeing you try to hide your boners from me”

you tilt his head up, making him look at you as his eyes widened, cock stiffening even more in his pants

moving your hand down, you cup it gently as alan lets out a soft moan

chuckling, you let your fingers move against it, reveling at the sight of his scrunched up face, tossed back from the pleasure

but it was his low groans that made you go absolutely insane

tongue swiping across your lips, plan inhales sharply as you lean down, whispering in his ear

“i’m going to have so much fun with you”

— leo: insulting him

you and the vagastrom vice captain do NOT get along

and everybody can see that

well, more like they can hear it

“if you’re going to be useless, why bother coming along”

“get your head out of your ass, kurosagi”

yall didn’t even try to get along anymore

you barely tolerated each other

most of the time, you were simply insulting each other ‘subtly’

or not so subtly

sometimes, his actions didn’t reflect his words and you hated it

“c’mon, honor roll, don’t you want to get an exclusive night of fun with me?”

you looked down at him

his eyes were sparkling under the bright lights of his room, cheeks flushed as he batted his eyelashes

his hair was wet, a towel wrapped around his waist. you were both in quite the provocative position

leo’s attempt at seducing you would’ve worked with anyone else

anyone else

you scoff

“keep dreaming”

the door slams shut as you leave

unbeknownst to you, leo’s cock was rock hard under his towel

hiding it from you just turned him on even more

god, he fucking loved it when you were mean to him

the spite in your voice, venom dripping from every word the way you glared at him, with pure hatred and disgust

he loved it all

it made him so horny

the tower slipped off his waist, milky white skin now exposed

along with his hard, red cock

the cold air made leo shiver as he wrapped his fingers around the base and started stroking

he envisioned the way you’d look at him if he got caught

oh god, that thought just made him so much more excited

‘wow, kurosagi, you’re really fucking filthy. a fucking disgusting whore’

leo moaned loudly, pre-cum leaking from the head of his cock

he’s so immersed in the thought of you catching him masturbating

that he doesn’t hear you actually catch him masturbating

you had accidentally left a package romeo had tasked you to pick up

and god, you did not need his pompous ass complaining today

you obviously had not intended to walk in on him

but boy, were you glad you did

“y/n, y/n, please!”

leo moaned your name, arching his back as he started stroking his cock even faster

the grin that slowly spread across your face was evil

diabolic, even

after another thirty-or-so seconds of you standing in the shadows, you decide it’s time to reveal yourself

you cleared your throat loudly, so he could hear it over his own moans

his head snapped towards you

“what the fuck? y-you pervert!”

leo’s stuttering only makes you laugh

“really don’t think you’re in the situation to be calling me a pervert”

you approach him slowly, chuckling at the fear in his eyes

and the way his cock was twitching, leaking pre-cum at the sight of you

before he can protest, you have him pinned down to the bed

leo’s eyes widen as you straddle him

you giggle, grinding against him as he bit his lip, suppressing his sweet whimpers

“i’m going to use you like the fucking toy you are, kurosagi”

his cock twitch against you, but the egotistical grin on his face burns the insatiable fire inside you

“try me, honour student”

— sho: flirting/banter

sho was one of the sweetest ghouls you’d met in darkwick

so that’s why people would always find you with him if you weren’t at jabberwock or hotarubi

he loved to tease you, and you loved to tease him

it’s a thing between the both of you— banter, if that’s what you’d call it

you enjoyed it, the back and forth with sho, knowing that there was no malicious intent behind either of your words

sho enjoyed it too

but not in the way you did

he didn’t know why, but he’d get so turned on when you gave him a witty or flirty response

somebody to 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴, one would say

it was just another afternoon for you both

lunch hour had just passed so you were helping sho clean up the food truck (totally not skipping classes)

“you didn’t have to do this, senpai”

you roll your eyes at his words

“i know, but i now have an excuse to skip class”

the wink you send him has his breath catch in his throat

he turns away, trying to hide the blush on his face

“not being a very honourable honour student, are you?”

you shoot him a look

“what can i say? rules are meant to be broken at times”

sho chuckled, shaking his head

“oh yeah? and when’s that? when classes on anomalous anatomy are being held?”

you grin at the boy

“nah. it’s only applicable when i get to hang out with a cutie like you”

oh god

he’s as red as the tomato in his hand

he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure

“and i thought you were the more mature one here, senpai”

you laugh at his words

“oh, baby, i am”

the pet name completely throws him off-guard

‘baby’? he hasn’t heard that one yet

oh god, he can feel himself getting harder and it’s gonna be a problem

“uh, i think i’m good now, senpai. you should return the class”

you glance over your shoulder

“trying to get rid of me now?”

he shakes his head, cheeks flushed

“n-no! wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with professor hyde now…”

he chuckles nervously

you turn around fully, arching an eyebrow

“you know your brother wouldn’t care, sho”

sho refuses to meet your gaze which further heightens your curiosity

“are you hiding something from me?”

“n-no!”

his exclamation only confirms your suspicions and a sly grin makes it way to your face

you circle around the counter, watching as sho backs away

his reactions are throughly amusing to you

it was very entertaining

“c’mon, pretty boy. what’re you hiding from me, hm? no need to be scared, i don’t bite”

he inhales a sharp breath, backing against the wall, trapped

“unless you want me to, that is”

sho whimpers under his breath

“oh? what’s this we have here?”

you glance down to the very obvious tent in his pants

sho is beyond embarrassed at this point, but the look in your eyes

the look in your eyes turns him on even more than he already is

the way you glance down at his lips, before looking back at him– it drove him crazy

“can i?”

your voice is soft, with a hint of cheekiness in it

he nods and you don’t hesitate

before he knew it, your mouth was on his, hand on his crotch

he was moaning into the kiss, hands wrapping around your neck

god, he loved how you kissed him like a starved man

air was becoming a problem, so you had to pull away, breathless

sho’s hair stuck to his forehead, bandana slowly slipping off as he panted, cheeks flushed

and his eyes– god, his eyes

his eyes begged for you to continue

licking your lips, you grin at the ghoul

“close the truck. i need to fuck you right now”

[ladybirdswritings]

Pretty Thing - Cooper Howard (Ghoul) x Reader

Summary: You're a shiny, pretty prize worth more caps than can be counted on ten hands altogether. There's something special about you, and the Ghoul is determined to figure out just what it is.

Notes: I caved, so here is part 2 <3! Lmk if u love this and I'll write more (feel free to leave me lots of comments and interactions, they motivate me!!)

pt. 1 | A03 | masterlist

pretty thing | 2…

“Please kindly rectify that you did not kidnap this innocent lady and you’re just— borrowing her.”

Their voices were a muffled, incoherent sound. Like ocean waves, rising and falling into pocketed parts of your brain.

“Well sweetie, I could go on n’ lie to you if it helps ya’ sleep better. Then again, I don’t much care how good you sleep.”

The sound of hissing air being breathed in with a moan, and exhaled with a grunt followed those words. The voice was familiar. Sudden, hazy flashes of the Ghoul circling you like a shark reentered your hectic mind. The other voice… it belonged to the doe-eyed brunette.

“Coop, kidnapping is wrong. Besides, what use do we have for another responsibility? What’s left of the NCR would have gladly taken her in as one of their own. Another vault, even, a good one! You’re robbing her of that choice!”

A gruff, deep hum left the Ghoul’s lips.

“Doll, I don’t give a rat’s ass bout’ the NCR. I ain’t no saint, vaultie. Rough economy these days n’ she looks like a useful lil’ thing, don’t she? Besides— she’s in a far better place than the one those underground skillet boys you like to fuck had her holed up in.“

Warmth was encasing your wounded skin, prickling at your senses. It was the most alive you’d felt… the closest you’d been to consciousness in months. Yet, you couldn’t quite pry your gaze apart.

“It’s just wrong…” the brunette whispered after a long moment’s pass.

No matter how wrong it was, well, the Ghoul didn’t much care. He knew well that Lucy would be on her way soon and he couldn’t do much to stop her. Now, he had been a lone wolf for centuries but— there was something about company that made him feel less ghoulish and more— human.

Silently, he liked that.

“You find that tin-lover of yours?” The Ghoul asked, hoping to steer Lucy’s mind away from her moral dilemmas. It worked, because her gaze lit up once more.

“Nope! But I did find some leads. Once we make our way to the city where we were headed, I’ll detour for approximately four days and then if all goes well, I’ll find you again! But with Maximus… doesn’t it sound amazing?”

The city?

“Hm. Guess so. Only thing is, tin-man could be dead by time we get to the city. Now— if I was you, I’d get gone and find him fore’ those roaches start to pick him apart.” There was a mischievous kind of joy at the idea of it, and it was laced proudly in his voice.

Silence again, warmth prickling stronger. Closer.

“But what about you, Coop?”

His laugh was a hoarse, aged and cold sound. As if to say everything his words could not. Lucy understood it immediately. She knew well that the Ghoul could hold his own. He’d done it for 200 and some years, after all. Perhaps she’d grown comfortable working as a team. Perhaps…

But Maximus…

“You’re right. Better to get a head start… what about the girl? She’s high profile. You know those keepers are gonna come right after you and they won’t stop. Us vault-dwellers can be incredibly persistent about the things we are passionate for.”

You couldn’t see it— not while you slumbered, but the Ghoul could only smirk at sweet Lucy’s words. Proud and mangled.

“Oh I know, sweetie. N’ don’t you worry bout’ pretty thing over there. She’s gon’ be well taken care of.”

A threat? A promise? An idea? Perhaps all three— perhaps all at once.

“…right. Look, I grabbed this on my way out. It’s a file— her file. Maybe you’ll figure out what you should do after you read it.”

As if the Ghoul hadn’t figured it out entirely already.

Pretty thing was worth something.

You were worth something. So? He’d do whatever he needed to so to get whatever the fuck made you so special out of you, and he’d drown in caps for it. Enough caps to buy him another century worth of yellow vials. Another century to find his family.

“Mm. Get goin’, MacLean.”

With a nod, she did— bidding farewell to dogmeat and sparing her partner another cautious glance before the sandy dunes engulfed her. Off to the city.

For the second time since you’d met him, you found yourself all alone with the mangled Ghoul. Only, you weren’t strong enough to truly see him just yet…

Pity. Cause he? Well…

He was looking right through you…

🏷️’s @isabellekenway

[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, the ghoul x fem!reader A/N: I always appreciate your thoughts and comments on these chapters. I don’t reply to every comment, mainly because I’m cackling like an evil witch over your suffering Summary: Time split in two. Both sides of the same coin and neither of you can get your shit together.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you,” you held your hand out and shook Tom’s, though your experience with him was anything but wonderful. If you didn’t need the exposure you’d never do another movie for him again. Cooper came up behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just going to steal her for a minute.”

Tom waved his hand and went to track down another drink. You sank into Cooper’s arms, deflating with relief. “Thank you,” you whispered. 

He chuckled and the sound had shivers going down your spine. “No problem at all, sweetheart.” He swept you out of the room and into one of the hallways of whoever’s house you were at. You’d stopped paying attention after about the fifth party you’d been dragged to. Working with Cooper had been a dream come true, but you hadn’t realized just how much socializing you’d have to do. 

He let go of you and you immediately missed the feeling of his arm around you. He provided you with a sense of protection you’d been severely lacking since you started acting. He was a shield against the greed of Hollywood. 

You let yourself lean against the wall and he watched you with a keen eye, smiling slightly at how tired you looked. “Doing alright?”

You nodded before looking up and giving him a small smile. “Just need a little break, that’s all.”

He rested against the wall opposite to you, tugging out a cigarette and offering you one. You shook your head and tried rolling out your shoulders to get rid of some of the lingering tension. He had a knowing look on his face when he spoke. 

“It was like that for me too when I first started out. No one really prepares you for how much ass you have to kiss in this industry.”

You let out a short laugh and rolled your eyes, “My lips are chapped at this point. I’ve never had to stroke so many men’s egos in one night.” 

“I hope you don’t feel like you have to do the same with me.”

You glanced up at Cooper and shook your head, “No, you’re not like that.”

Fuck him, you thought. You didn’t have to do what he said. You got up, prepared to duck your way through the fighting again, when you heard the unmistakable high pitched ringing of a bullet flying by and then you were launching forward. 

“Fuck!” Your hand flew to your arm, trying to stop the blood from oozing out of the graze on your arm. He hadn’t left a hole but a good chunk of your bicep was splattered on the ground.  

“Now, what did I tell you sweetheart?” You turned around to stare shocked at Cooper. He pointed to the ground with his gun. “Go ahead and sit your ass back down.” The warmth of the blood seeped out from between your fingers and your other hand clenched in rage. 

“Why don’t you just go fuck yourself, Cooper?” He might not have had eyebrows anymore but you could still make out the way his muscles shifted in anger. Despite it all, you could still read him like a book. 

You weren’t going to let him think he could just continue to treat you however the hell he wanted. “What did you just say to me?” His voice was low, a dangerous tone that days before you might not have messed with. But you didn’t care. He’d shot you twice at this point, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a shit about catering to his feelings right now. 

Your hand reached towards the gun tucked in your pants. His eyes tracked the movement but he made no move to stop you. Slowly, you wrapped your fingers around the handle and you pointed the barrel right at him. He chuckled but there was no humor in the sound. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

“If you’re gonna shoot me, go ahead and do it. But our partnership ends here.” You hoped he couldn’t see the way your hand trembled or how the gun shook. You weren’t sure, when the moment came, if you could actually kill him. Despite it all, you still saw the man you used to love in that face. 

And despite what he’d told you about that man, you couldn’t let yourself believe him. You couldn’t afford to lose the last good memory you had. You’re caught off guard when he clicks the hammer again and tucks the gun back in his holster. 

Your eyes are wide with surprise but he just raises his hands in surrender. “Go ahead and leave, I’m never one to linger where I’m unwanted.” Well, that’s a fucking lie. Still, you decide to take him at his word and slowly you tuck the gun away again. 

“Goodbye, Cooper.”

He smirks, “Goodbye, darling.”

You should have known better. You’ve barely turned around before a rope is looped around your waist and dragging you to the ground and back towards him. 

“Thanks for having me over, Barb. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?” She shook her head and placed your cup of coffee on the table. 

“What kind of hostess would I be if I asked that of you?” She gave you a kind smile and left to dart back into the kitchen. You fiddled with the table mat in front of you, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Cooper came back in from the yard and waved you forward. 

“Come on, she’ll be a while longer, it’s nicer out here.” You left your cup on the table and followed him outside. He led you to the pool, motioning for you to take a seat on one of the chairs. You appreciated how hospitable he and his wife were but you were feeling incredibly out of place in his home. 

Cooper laughed and gave you a funny look. “You don’t look very comfortable over there.”

You shrugged and gave him a sheepish smile. “Am I that obvious?”

He shook his head, “Not to anyone else, maybe.”

“But you know me a bit better than anyone else,” you finished the thought for him. He was right. He knew you better than anyone in Hollywood did. And you enjoyed it and loved how close you had gotten over the course of filming the movie. But you also hated it a little bit.

Cooper Howard had always been an on-screen crush for you and now face-to-face with him, the infatuation has gotten even worse. It made you feel awful every time Barb invited you over to their house. You were a guest in her home and halfway to being in love with her husband.

But who could blame you? He was kind and sophisticated, and he wasn’t one of those Hollywood assholes who looked down on anybody who was deemed as below him. 

And maybe you were mistaking his generosity for something else, but you swear he had a certain look in his eyes every time he stared at you. 

You almost hoped that he didn’t. You wanted this to be different from the other men you worked with. They always claimed they were in love with you. It didn’t take long for them to realize that it was only lust and not love. 

You wanted him to be different. 

Maybe you’re a fool for thinking that there was still Prince Charming’s around. But you would hold onto that hope for as long as you could.

“I fucking hate you. You know that?”

“Why don’t you shut your mouth, huh, sweetheart?” You hissed in pain as Cooper squeezed the rag around your arm even tighter. He grinned at the noise and tied the makeshift bandage off. 

“You should have just left me there.” He stood up and yanked your hands towards him. He used some of the rope to tie you up, leading you around on a leash like you were a damn dog. 

“Couldn’t do that.”

“Yeah, why the hell not?” He finally looked at you, an angry set to his eyes. But he didn’t respond, he just yanked on the rope and dragged you forward. You complied, only because of the way your shoulder pulsed with pain.

You wished he had left you in Filly instead of dragging you along behind him. He had already dealt with Ma June and gotten whatever the hell it is that he puffs on. You had no idea why he even needed you anymore. 

You weren’t of any use to him and it’s not like there’s some big bounty on your head. Why keep you around? Why not give you both what you want and just let you go?

Maybe it was cruelty. Maybe the only thing he got out of it, was knowing that he was torturing you. That seemed like enough for a man like him. 

You stared at the back of his head and felt hate burning in your gut. He was right. Cooper was gone, you couldn’t even see him anymore. You didn’t want to see him anymore. 

“We’ll get along just fine if you keep that attitude of yours in check.” If you could still pull out your gun, you’d take your chance. You���d shoot him dead if you could. Instead all you could do was longingly stare at it from where it was tucked in your bag. 

He returned from where he’d been keeping watch, confident no one was going to bother them tonight. She sat with her back to him, the rope tied around the post of the old warehouse they were camped out in. She’d refused to talk to him since they’d made camp for the night and it was slowly driving him insane. 

He’d made a decision when he went back for her. She belonged to him now, she wasn’t leaving anytime soon. He didn’t understand why she had to make all of this so hard.

He knelt down in front of her and she averted her eyes to a corner of the room behind him. He reached for the bandage on her arm and she jerked back, she looked at him at least, even if it was to glare. He’d take progress where he could get it. 

“You want to let it fester and rot then be my guest.” She stared at him a moment longer before sighing and offering him her arm. He unwrapped the bandage and threw it to the ground. It was sopping wet with her blood and she winced at the noise it made when it landed, some blood sprayed off and hit her face. He’d meant to just graze her, done a bit more damage than expected. 

There was a large divot where muscle should be, he could nearly see bone poking through on the deepest bit. It was a wonder she hadn’t been complaining the whole time they were walking. He’s not sure how she’s bearing the pain so well. 

He needs to cauterize it before she loses more blood. He takes a glance at her face, the way her jaw is set, the cold look in her eyes everytime he so much as breathes. There’s no way this will go over very well, but there’s no point in investing any time in her if she just dies of rot tomorrow. 

He starts a fire in the area with the least visibility, he’s trying not to tempt any stragglers near them. It’s not like he can rely on her to watch over him in the night, he’s sure if he handed her a knife she’d slit his throat right now. 

He pulls his machete out and lets the dull edge heat up before bringing it back over to her. Her eyes widen but she still doesn’t say anything. And when he presses the edge into her wound and her skin sizzles and roasts she still doesn’t utter a word. 

But she bites down on something in her mouth so hard blood leaks out of the corner of her lips. She’s being real tempting right now, all bloodied and cooked, smelling like a nice meal. Maybe he should chop her up into little pieces, she’ll keep him fed for a while, that’s for sure. 

She starts panting, breathing heavy through her nose and he knows he’s kept this on here longer than necessary. Still, he can’t help himself. He presses the blade a little deeper, lets it hit some uninjured skin just to see if she says anything. She only clenches her eyes shut and turns away from him. 

Disappointed by the lack of response he backs off. “You’re welcome,” he grouses. 

“Fuck. Off.” She spits the words out at him, droplets of blood flying off her lips as she does. 

The way her eyes flare with anger shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. But she has always been particularly pretty when she’s pissed off at him. He licks the blood off his lips and grins. “So she can talk.”

Her eyes well up with tears and he sits back, enjoying the sight of her breaking down. She’s caused enough trouble for him the past few days, she’s just getting a taste of her own medicine. 

Cooper swoops in, taking her hand and leading her around the dance floor. She grins up at him, eyes shining under the lights of the ballroom, once again he’s struck by just how gorgeous she is. “I should warn you,” she leans in like she’s sharing a horrible secret and whispers, “I’m a terrible dancer.”

He takes her in, the pretty dress she’s wearing and how well it suits her and shakes his head. “Just let me lead.”

Her laugh makes his heart race and all he wants to do is run away with her. Get her out of here and just have her all for his own, if only for a few hours. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, mister.” The music picks up and he takes her through the steps he had to practice a dozen different times for a multitude of occasions, one including his wedding. 

“Do you know how pretty you look tonight?”

She gives him a coy smile and shrugs. “I’ve been told by a few men, but I think I’d actually believe it if you said it.”

He leans down and kisses her. He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself. She’s as soft as he’d imagined, shy and confused, but she doesn’t stop him. He feels her lean in and he slowly parts from her. “You look beautiful.” She pulls away from him, eyes wide and lips parted from shock. He sees the shine on her lips, the slight way they’ve swelled up and he wants to lean in again but he’s interrupted. 

“Cut!” Sam walks over to them, a big grin on his face and claps Cooper on the shoulder. “I love the improv, Coop, we’re gonna do this again. Keep the kiss.” Cooper nods and waits for him to walk off before he turns back to her. 

He offers her an apologetic smile. “I hope that didn’t bother you, darling. It felt right for the scene.” Not a complete lie, it did work better than whatever the writers had chosen for the next few minutes of dialogue. But truly, he was just fulfilling his own selfish desires. 

She seems to blink herself out of some sort of daze. She shakes her head and steps away from him, he lets his hands fall down to his sides, already missing the feeling of her. “No, not at all. Good call, Coop.” His name on her lips sounds like music to his ears, especially that breathy way she says it when she’s nervous. 

He sighs and rubs a hand down his face. What the fuck is he doing? He shouldn’t have kissed her. He definitely shouldn’t have pushed to get her this role, either, knowing she was going to be his love interest. He knows she’s been trying to step back from these types of things. But he also knows that she’d take any role he offered her. 

He shouldn’t be taking advantage of that, but he can’t help himself. He finds that he wants to be near her, always. He wants to listen to her ramble and have her there to read scripts with, he just wants her around him constantly. It used to be purely platonic. The respectful relationship between a mentor and mentee. But she’d figured out how to navigate this world on her own. 

Soon, he worried she wouldn’t need him anymore. Or want him around.  He takes every opportunity he can to have her on set and it’s only recently that he’s noticed the physical attraction. He takes his hand off his face and glances to the side. 

Barb is there, but she hadn’t been watching. She’s busy talking to one of the PA’s. He takes in a deep breath and gets back on his mark. If he messes up a few times, just so he can kiss her again, who could blame him?

“Cat got your tongue?”

You have a dozen different remarks, but you’re too drained to go through this routine again. You can tell he’s getting angrier the longer you ignore him. Good! He’s shot you twice, you didn’t exactly owe him the satisfaction of your conversation. 

Your arm is throbbing, a dull pain that you can feel deep in your bones. You keep shifting, trying to ease some of the pressure off of it, but with the bindings around your wrist it’s nearly impossible. You want to cry, scream, fight. You want to do anything, but he’s bound you and you feel like a beaten down dog. 

Your tails’ been cropped and you’re just going through endless rounds of fighting until you’re useless enough to be put down. You don’t see a way out of this. And even if there was, even if you did escape, you’d still have the rest of the Wastelands to get through. 

He stands up and moves next to you. He throws himself down with a thud and digs around in your bag. “No rations left, huh?” You close your eyes and let your head thunk back against the pole you’ve been leashed to. He grabs his own bag and pulls out his foul smelling jerky. 

He dangles it under your nose, slapping your cheeks with it a few times until you open up your eyes. He grins, yellowed teeth making you nauseous, “There are those pretty eyes. Come on, open up sweetheart, ass jerky ain’t gonna eat itself.”

Your nose scrunches up in disgust and you turn your head away. “Hey!” He snaps and you jump. “I’m being generous here, now, open your damn mouth.”

“Why’d you shoot me?” You spit it out, rushed and near incoherent. It’s a desperate attempt to distract him so you don’t have to eat what is confirmed human meat. That could have been you today, had you not woken up before that creepy old couple got to you. 

He takes a moment, contemplating his answer. “Thought you were the raider.”

“Why?”

He rolled his eyes and the jerky, thankfully, dropped back into his lap. “I heard someone in pain. You don’t have a great track record, sweetheart, I figured someone had gotten you again.”

Indignant anger bubbled up in your gut and you moved as far away from him as you possibly could. Though, it was only a few inches. “You didn’t think I could defend myself. It wasn’t even a consideration?” 

You knew how to shoot a gun, and you knew how to fight back. But shouldn’t there be a bit of grace considering a few days ago the entire world wasn’t fucking insane? You think you’ve handled yourself exceptionally well considering everything that’s been thrown at you. 

There’s no hesitation in his answer, “No.”

“Well,” you spit the words out like you want to wound him with them, “you were wrong.”

To your surprise he smiles. It seems genuine enough, appreciative even, but you can’t trust him anymore. You never should have trusted him to begin with apparently. “That I was.” You wished you could smack the smug look off his face. He was acting like he had anything to do with your fighting or surviving that fight. Despite what happened with the raiders, you were capable of protecting yourself.

That woman was already bleeding out and on the ground before he had interrupted. “What the fuck do you want from me, Cooper?” His hand twitched towards his gun and he glared at you. You rolled your eyes and sighed, “Oh grow the fuck up, I said your name, shoot me or get over it. I’m not gonna play this game with you anymore. I’m not gonna let you walk all over me and I’m not going to continue to cater to your temper.”

He wasn’t angry, though, he was grinning. Making a noise that bordered on a laugh. “Someone found their fight again, it seems.”

Your jaw clenched and you kicked at him. He grunted at the impact and you felt a little bit of satisfaction flare up, “Answer the question.”

He shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t particularly like you, but I can’t seem to let you go either.”

“Well,” you scoffed, “you sure know how to make a girl swoon, don’t you.” Your wrists itched within the confines of their bindings and you pictured strangling him with the very rope he had you tied up with. 

“You wanted the truth.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?” 

Cooper wrapped his arms around Barb’s waist, he leaned in to kiss her but she dodged away from him. He let out a heavy sigh, already dreading this conversation, and backed up. “What are you talking about?”

She whirled around on him and glared, “Do not pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” He shook his head and walked over to the bar cart, pouring himself a glass of something that would hopefully calm him enough for another fight. They’d been fighting a lot lately. 

He knew what this one was going to be about. Her, but they’d been having issues long before this attraction started up. She just wanted something to use against him, to make him the bad guy. She just couldn’t ever handle hearing the truth about herself. 

But he wasn’t going to make it easy for her. He was sick of rolling over and just letting her have what she wanted for the sake of peace. “Give me something to work with here, Barb.”

She scoffed and shook her head muttering, “Unbelievable,” under her breath. “Shoving your tongue down her throat, that’s what I’m talking about!”

Cooper winced, “Lower your voice, Janey is-”

“Do not,” she held up a hand to silence him. “Do not bring our daughter into this. Answer the damn question.”

He let out a humorless laugh and held up his hands. “I don't know what you want. You’ve never had a problem with this before. It’s a part of my fucking job, Barb, what the hell do you want?”

She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just admit it, Coop, she’s different. We both know it, this isn’t some scripted kiss. You wanted it!” Of course he did. At least she actually liked him, appreciated him, made him feel something other than shame and frustration. She didn’t manipulate him at every opportunity like Barb did. 

“Lower your goddamn voice!” He snapped, heat rushing to his cheeks in anger. “I am married to you, you are my wife, not her. I love you, okay, Barb. I don’t know where this is coming from, or why you’re choosing now to bring this up. But I’ve had a long day and I don’t want us to go to bed angry.”

She shook her head again and paced the length of the living room. “Cooper, I can’t-”

The phone ringing interrupted her. She looked at it like she knew who was calling and waved her hand to dismiss him. “We will continue this,” he walked towards the phone and took it off the hook. “What?”

He regretted how short he sounded when he heard her on the other line. She sounded a little confused and like she was sorry for bugging him. “Coop? Sorry, is this a bad time?” He glanced over his shoulder at Barb but she wasn’t looking at him anymore. 

He let out a deep sigh and tried to reign in his temper, “No, sweetheart, what’s up?” 

“Oh, well a few of us figured we’d go out and get some drinks. I wanted to see if you wanted to join us, or if you could give me a ride?”

He let the phone droop to his cheek and glanced at Barb again. She was already making her way towards the bedroom. “Make your choice, Cooper,” she called over her shoulder. 

She piped up on the other end, “Coop?”

He glanced down at the phone again before he shook his head and brought it back up to his ear. “Yeah, I’ll be right over, honey. Let me just grab my jacket.”

“You remember that first movie we did together?” He leaned back against the wall, arm propped up on his knee and gazing out at the Wasteland. “Passed a poster for it in this old movie theater a week ago.” He glanced over at her and nudged her shoulder. “Must have been a sign, huh?”

Her voice was a hoarse croak that he nearly didn’t understand. “Did you ever love me?” The question came out of nowhere, catching him slightly off guard.

Anger flared through him. He turned to glare at her but she wouldn’t look at him. She had the audacity to ask something that fucking stupid and then she couldn’t even look at him?

“Hey,” she sighed and turned to face him. “‘Course I did. Why the hell would you say that?”

She snorted and shook her head. “Seriously?” He nodded and she sighed. “You told me you didn’t. All I was, was a hole to fill.”

He ran a hand down his face and shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you sweetheart.”

“How about the truth,” she gave him a sharp look and he laughed. She was real cute when she was trying to be threatening. 

“Alright. You want some advice? Everyone in the Wastelands lies. Can’t trust a thing anyone says.”

She nodded but he should know better than to think she would give up so easy. “So, I can’t believe you now then?” She must have thought she was real clever. He was getting a little sick of this back and forth. She needed to learn to just listen to him, she’d get a lot farther a lot faster that way. 

“Consider this the one exception.” 

“And here I thought you didn’t like to drink, sweetheart.” She let out a drunken giggle and slumped further against Cooper. He glanced at her and laughed. Her eyes were barely open and she kept pointing at something but refused to tell him what it was she was talking about. “Keys?”

She lifted her purse but it dropped to the ground before he could grab it from her. Cooper sighed and propped her against her door, he leaned down to grab the bag and dug around until he found the keys. He noticed the little key chain he got her dangling from them and smiled. 

A mini revolver, to commemorate their first movie together. It was cute that she had kept it, he hadn’t really expected her too. Then again, he’s kept every ridiculous gag gift she’s gotten him. “Alright, let’s get you to bed.” She threw an uncoordinated arm over his shoulder and let her feet drag while he tried to corral her into her apartment. 

“Work with me, honey, come on.” She finally lifted her feet enough to stumble into her bedroom. He closed the door and heard a loud thud. “Shit,” he ran into her room but she’d only tossed her shoes across the room. 

“I don’t drink,” she slurred, eyes red and cheeks puffy. 

He chuckled and nodded his head. He hoped to get her lucid enough just long enough to get her tucked into bed. He was tired and going to get drinks had been a mistake. He wasn’t in the mood to try and entertain a group of people with tales of his glamorous Hollywood experience. Honestly, he’d gone just to talk to her, but she’d been in more of a mood to party than he had expected. 

“Don’t trust anyone.” He grabbed the sleeves of her jacket, helping her out of it and trying not to laugh at how much she struggled with them. “Just you,” she hummed, giving him a smile even though her eyes were closed and she was a second away from passing out.

“That’s real sweet, why don’t you get in bed?” She nodded and threw herself down against the pillows. Cooper sighed and got up to get her trash can out of the bathroom, dropping it by the side of her bed in case she needed it. 

He glanced down at her, taking in the serene expression she held when she slept. It was so different to the usual way she kept herself guarded, she seemed so vulnerable in moments like these. He brushed the hair off her face and turned the light off. It made him feel good to know that she felt safe with him. 

He could never be with her the way that he wanted to, but at the very least he could protect her from the people who would just take what he wanted. 

“I don’t think I can do this on my own,” she whispered. She shifted again, tugging at the bindings once more. Annoyed at her constant fidgeting he reached over and loosened them slightly. His fingers lingered on the reddened marks on her wrist, he pressed lightly on them and she shivered. 

He let her go and sat back against the post. “I know.”

“I stupidly thought I would find something in Filly. I think I was trying to prove something to myself, but I can’t do this. I need help, but I’m not gonna let you treat me like some pet you didn’t want.” 

He sighed and she turned to look at him. When he really took her in, actually paid attention to her, he could see how tired she was. That sort of bone deep tired that you only get after a lot of bad days. He’s sure that’s what this was, it’s how it was for him when he first started out on his own. 

He didn’t have anyone to help him or guide him, he figured it out on his own. It made him smarter, stronger, turned him into somebody that no one was going to fuck with. She was a lot different than him, though. 

“Alright.”

“You’re going to help me,” she held out her hands and he understood the gesture for what it was. A test, to see if he was true to his word, if you could actually believe him. 

He grinned and yanked her closer, reveling in the way she winced at the ropes burning the open wounds. “I’ve had a taste of you now, sweetheart, I won’t be letting you go anytime soon.” She doesn’t flinch when he pulls out his knife, not even when he presses it against the tender skin of her wrist.

There’s trust in her eyes, a hesitant trust, but it was there. He slices through the knot of rope and wraps the rest of it up to put back in his bag. She lets out a sigh of relief and rubs at the irritated patches of skin. “I really did love you, you know?”

He’s sick of this. He’s sick of how sad she sounds, how tired. It’s barely been a week and she’s already starting to give up. He's already made the decision to keep her around, he’s not one to go back on his word. But she’s making it real hard to not just knock her out and shut her up. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, “so did I.”

She scoffed, “No. You didn’t, not like I did.”

His hand clenches at his side in frustration. What’s it gonna take to drill this into her head? He grabs her by the chin and yanks her forward, the leather of his glove smushing her lips together. “I loved you. You don’t get to doubt that and you don’t get to doubt me.”

He’s darting forward before she can shove him back. Her hands hang limply between them and she gasps in surprise when he presses their lips together. It’s not altogether pleasant, her lips cracked and bloodied and his have long since turned to leather. 

But that familiar passion he once held for her sparks up and he shoves forward. She whimpers and lets herself fall back, hands grabbing at his jacket and tugging him closer. He used to treat her gently, savor their time together like they’d never have another chance. It always felt like that, they were one moment away from losing each other. He supposes he’d been right, their time was short. 

Who they were now were two different people to who they’d been. He bites down on her lip hard enough to draw blood and pulls back. She’s staring up at him, shocked and flustered. He can’t tell if she wants to kiss him again or slap him. He doesn’t give her a chance to choose, he licks her blood off his lips and drops her to the ground.

She groans as her head slams against the floor, sand and dust billowing out from under her. “You should get some rest. We’ve got a long walk tomorrow.” He leaves her there in the dirt, lets her linger in the feeling of his rejection. He rubs at his lips and savors the taste of her blood on his tongue. 

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.

[banj0possum]

Hi! I love your stuff, you’re a really good writer! Take your time if you ever get to this, don’t burn yourself out.

The scenario is a delusional yandere childhood friend/monster. Like the reader found it in the woods as a kid and they grew up playing until the reader had to move away. Now years later, the reader is back..and the monster thinks it has a mate again.

Imaginary More-Than-Friends

Yandere! Imaginary Childhood Bestfriend x GN Reader

an: I believe the few people will recognize this guy from my old posts, i figured i let him out of my little toy box of characters huehuehue. i have to say though that i'm very much attached to this one and i will not be accepting nsfw requests of this character in the future! sorry if its not really what you asked for though ._." i was a bit excited when i saw your request

CW: Coulrophobia, delusional yan, this one is a bit more intense than normal, kidnapping kind of, possessive themes

🦋 You have vague memories of your old house. Memories of playing around in your old room and the faint sounds of cicadas and rustling leaves from outside your bedrooms window felt like a blur.

🦋 The clearest memory of your childhood there was playing around in the woods by your backyard. You had a small clubhouse somewhere in the thicket of trees and other flora. It was a small red tent full of flower ornaments that you've weaved and little trinkets you found while exploring.

🦋 You also remember there being someone else in the woods with you every time you played, although you don't remember any neighbors with kids when you were younger. Even then you have foggy memories of talking to someone very close to you.

🦋 You feel the truck you're riding in turn a corner and you look up to see your old family house slowly appearing from behind autumn-colored trees.

🦋 As soon as the moving truck came to a stop, you opened the door after thanking the driver and got your bags, taking a good look at the large house in front of you.

🦋 The paint was chipping and most of the metal decor was rusting, but you can fix them up as soon as you move in. Your family had to move out pretty quickly for some unknown reason so you figured many of the things that were left were still there.

🦋 Turning the key in the lock and opening the door, you could have sworn you heard scurrying from inside the house, must have been an animal that got in from a window or something.

🦋 Somehow, the house didn't seem very dusty, even though it's been sitting unoccupied for years. The floor looks swept to an extent with piles of leaves looking to have been swept lazily to the sides of the rooms.

🦋 You wandered through the house, your memories coming back to you about the times you spent with your parents, all the while, you can hear faint scratching and thumping as you walk.

🦋 The tall figure skittered around house, watching you wander around from the corners with an unblinking stare. He couldn't believe it. You were here, you're back! And you're so much bigger than you were all those years ago...you look so beautiful now! A toothy grin widens on his face as his claws scratched the doorframe he was gripping, leaving deep scratches.

🦋 As you enter your old room, you see that the dusty bed still looks made, like it's been waiting for someone to sleep in it for years. Old toys with ribbons of your favorite color tied to their necks or wrists sat in their places by a fogged windowsill as paper cranes and insects on string and glow in the dark stars still hung on your ceiling.

🦋 Just as you were about to leave to get your things moved in, you hear your old closet creak open. You freeze and turn to it, it looked like there wasn't anything inside. You wait a bit before fucking off, not wanting to deal with any ghouls or the like at the moment...

🦋 The figure then breathes a sigh of relief as soon as you're out of earshot. It pushes itself out of the closet and onto the floor. Soon you will see each other, he promises. He just has to find the right time...

🦋 You'd find items missing and reappearing in strange places sometimes, it could've been just you forgetting where you placed them, but there's no way you could have misplaced your shoes in the sink or your sweater outside your window...

🦋 You'd also notice food that was left out being eaten, not by ants or rodents though, the bite marks were too large.

🦋 You weren't some dumb character in a horror movie, you could see the tell-tale signs of a haunting, but you didn't want to let go of the house, not after all the years of trying to buy it back and all the money you put into renovating it.

🦋 Your mind was put at ease somewhat when you found a group of raccoons rummaging through your trashcans next to a window with a broken window, they could've just been messing with your stuff and eating your food while you weren't looking. You took note that you had to fix the locks soon.

🦋 After a few tiring days of getting everything cleaned up and moving in your stuff, you look at your hard work and smile. Your furniture gave the home your own personal touch while still keeping the nostalgic charm of your childhood home. You sigh in satisfaction and decide to go out and get some fresh air.

🦋 You exit through your backyard door and, from what you can see, the woods hasn't changed a bit since you left. It made you smile knowing you personal little playground hasn't wasted away. You then remember your old hideout. A wave of memories come back to you as you rush to where you remember the little red fort was.

🦋 To your surprise, the tent was still up, in fact, you could see no sign of aging on it. No damage from rain or wind or anything, it's like it was frozen in time. You walk up to it, crouching down and lifting the red embroidered curtains of the entrance and revel in the little items that withstood the years it has been left here.

🦋 Although, you notice there being more things than you remember. Did you really collect all these thing when you were younger? There were bottles of soda can tabs and acorns, figurines of animals carved out of wood, were those animal bones??

🦋 You back away from the tent, very much weirded out by the new additions to your old hang out spot when suddenly, your body bumps into something. It felt thin like a tree but soft like a plush toy with burlap for the cover. Your eyes go wide as you hear a voice from above you. "(Y/N)?"

🦋 The familiar jingle of bells sparked something in you as you look up to meet the creature's porcelain face.

🦋 You stare at the figure like it would disappear if you look away from it as you step back to look at it better.

🦋 It was a clown, a tall one at that. Its white pupils stayed on you as you can see razor sharp teeth within its mouth. His limbs looked almost jointless like how a plush toy would look. It's clothes were brown and dirty from years of neglect.

🦋 What you were seeing wasn't human, it couldn't be human. It was too freakishly tall to be one. You didn't know what to do, running could provoke it to chase you and attacking could anger it.

🦋 Suddenly, it steps closer to you and bends down, you could feel its breath on your face, it unusually smelled like candycorn.

🦋 Then it chuckles, giving you a grin before suddenly picks you up and wraps its long arms around you, spinning around happily like a child holding their new toy.

🦋 "(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Oh I'm so happy to see you again! You've grown so much! Where did you go? What did you see? Did you...make any new friends?"

🦋 It pulls away from you and stops spinning only to see a terrified expression on your face. His smile drops and cocks his head to the side. "(Y/N)? Are you okay?" The bells on its jester hat jingle softly.

🦋 As your shock melts away, you figure he didn't have any intention of harming you and you try and catch your breath. Your eyes then catch a glimpse of ribbons tied around his wrists. It was your favorite color.

🦋 Your slowly look back up to the clown and you finally remember your old friend that you used to play with.

🦋 You had a favorite toy amongst your collection of stuffed animals and dolls. It was a strawberry pink clown with stretchy arms, you used to carry it around with you all the time. From the moment you wake up to going back to sleep, you had it with you. You named it..

🦋 "Hallow?"

🦋 The clown perks up at the name and its smile widens even more. "So you remember! Hahah! I was beginning to think you forgot all about me!" "Y-you're real?! I mean you were- but- h-how is this possible?!"

🦋 Hallow puts you down and gives you a confused look, pointing a finger to his cheek. "Real? Of course I'm real! I'm your best friend!" He giggles, spinning around joyfully.

🦋 "And I...left you here.." "Oh I don't mind! I'm sure you had a reason! Besides, you're here now and we can play again! And we can be together!" He takes your hands into his and squeezes them, his grip a bit shaky. Well, at least it won't be so lonely out here anymore...

🦋 From there, Hallow kept you company, he would help you out in fixing up the exterior of the house and tell you all about what's happened since you left.

🦋 "I saw a reeeaaallly big bear once! He looked all tubby and fluffy and stuff! I tried petting it but it bit my arm off! So rude right? At least I knew how to sew my arm back! Thanks for teaching me how by the way!"

🦋 He's a bit clingy, but he does give you space if you ask him. and by give you space i mean he just stares at you from the corner of the room instead of hovering over you the whole time.

🦋 He wasn't a fan of other people though, if ever a friend of yours visits or a delivery person drops by, he'd disappear in a flash, when they finally leave, he's unusually quiet until to ask if he was alright. When you turn away from him, his forced smile drops down to a sneer, thinking about the strange person that was trying to take you away from him...

🦋 Then one day, a friend of yours called and told you they were in the area and wanted to meet up with you. Hallow watched as you happily talked to your phone from the gap between your door, scratching the wood in jealousy. Who was making you so happy (Y/N)? Only he's supposed to make you laugh like that...

🦋 When your friend came, he disappeared once again. He watched you greet your 'friend' with a hug, being awfully touchy with them, holding their hand as you guide them to your couch.

🦋 He hated it, he hated them. He hated you happy you looked as you two laughed together. He wished it was him who was making you laugh, not this stranger. Infact, what made you think they were to be trusted? Wasn't it other people that made you leave him in the first place? Your dreaded parents were the reason you were taken from him, what makes you think your "friend" won't do the same. Before you know it, you could be taken back to the city, stressed and overwhelmed and away from him, your best friend, your only friend, your soulmate!

🦋 His spiraling thoughts were quickly interrupted by your friend getting up from their seat. "Alright, it's getting late..where's that mall again?" "Oh, you just turn right from the second street over." "Ok! I'll pick you up tomorrow at noon!" noon?

🦋 The door closes, and you hear the jingling of bells behind you. "Do you have to hide every time there's someone else he-" Your joking comment is cut off when you turn and he's looming dreadfully over you.

🦋 "What mall?" "H-huh?" He's glaring daggers into your eyes, taking a step closer to you as you back up, unease growing inside of you.

🦋 "What's at noon?" "H-hallow we're just going out-" "How long?" "H-how long?? I don't kno-" "Hours? Days? Years?" You're backed up against the wall, the giant clown's arms at either side of you, trapping you under him as black drool drips down his snarling mouth.

🦋 "How long are you gonna leave me this time huh? How many days am I gonna wait for you to come back to me?!" "Hallow stop you're scaring me!" "I'm supposed to be my best friend! Not them!" He snaps at you, making you flinch in fear. His glare softens then turns into a horrified expression. Pulling his hands back closer to him shakily as you shivered in front of him, your arms hiding your face. He lets out a quiver before stepping away from you. You lower your arms and he was gone, you can hear banging and thumping from upstairs.

🦋 The next day, you were getting ready for your outing with your friend. Hallow didn't show up that day. You weren't used to the silence that was left.

🦋 You haven't seen Hallow in a few days, but you always let out food for him. He was hurt, you can tell, but it was clear he needed space at the moment, you just hoped he didn't do anything rash as you went to bed a week after your fight with the clown.

🦋 You woke up the next day, expecting Hallow not to come out again. You get up from your bed and head downstairs. Calling out Hallow's name, no answer.

🦋 You sigh and figure you should get some much-needed fresh air. The tension that has built up in the house was almost suffocating to you. You went to your backdoor to spend some time outside.

🦋 But when you tried to open the door, it wouldn't turn. You tried unlocking it, but the lock wouldn't budge. You pulled and shook it but to avail. You groan and try to open a window instead, but the latch was shut tight. You tried the other windows but none of them opened. You started to freak out when you hear a jingle of bells behind you.

🦋 "H-Hallow? Why are the all the windows shut? The door's locked too!" You look to him, but he looked off. His normal wide-eyed smile was replaced with a half-lidded grin. He swayed side to side, clasping his hands together as he giggled. "Hello, you~"

🦋 "H-hey...what's going on?" You ask him, sweat rolling down the side of your head nervously.

🦋 "Well, I thought about what you said and I realized! You're not at fault here! You just want someone to be with! And I guess me being your friend wasn't good enough for you so you turned to someone else! I know you didn't mean to hurt me lovely, but I can change for you! I can be much more than a best friend! We can be like those knights and princesses in your storybooks, remember?"

🦋 He starts walking up to you, you hold onto the countertop behind you as he rambles on in a lovesick haze. "H-Hallow?"

🦋 "You won't need anyone else (Y/N)! You'll just need me from now on! We'll be together forever! Oh and don't worry about food and stuff, I can get you those!"

🦋 He chuckles, before pulling you into an uncomfortably tight hug, you flinch as you feel him kiss your neck and cheek, his sharp teeth grazing your skin ever so gently.

🦋 "You'll never have go away ever again, my f-...my love~"

[spatialwave]

“𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮’𝓼 𝓪 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭”

pairing: the ghoul x fem!reader word count: 1.8k words summary: you’re not sure how, but you, a vault dweller, managed to sneak your way into the ghoul’s heart. warnings: implied sa notes: just a little/poorly paced ficlet LOL, testing the waters of writing for cooper. kind of fluffy, the start of maybe a little ficlet series?? also taking request for ghoulcy or ghoul x readers! 🖤

-> next part!

being a so-called ‘vaultie’ had put you in quite the predicament while on your journey through the wastelands. unbeknownst to you, a bounty had been placed on your delicate head — a large bag of caps that would be sure to provide a ghoul with adequate supplies to keep from going feral.

you, on the other hand, were severely unprepared for what the surface would bring. several nights alone, your supplies depleting. hell, you hadn’t even known that bounties were a thing, or that you’d be needing to purchase your next meal with a handful of bottle caps.

if it weren’t for cooper finding you, you’d likely have died out in the wastes with the radiation eating you away until you were nothing but a pile of bones. still, you weren’t fond of the treatment he’d greeted you with.

when you first saw the shadowy figure, your naivety had you hopeful. you stepped closer and even spoke a soft, “hello?” before a lasso had been thrown in your direction and wrapping snug around your neck.

“were’t you taught that you shouldn’t trust strangers in the dark?” the voice of a southern man spoke, thick like syrup. sounding like the man in the movies you had watched with your dad back in the vault.

knowing what you did now, you wished that you hadn’t put so much trust in him, though, you had no idea a ghoul would be making himself known.

the first day was brutal, being dragged along like a dog with blisters forming on your feet and your lips cracking and bleeding from dehydration. you had tried to plead your case to him, explaining how you needed to find your father, but he hadn’t shown an ounce of remorse.

by the fourth day? well, for your own sake you wouldn’t say it aloud, but you were near certain that you had grown on the ghoul. he removed the rope that left reddened marks on your skin and even gave you the chance to clean yourself up in a bucket of rain water. even gave some jerky he’d dried out from some critters he killed—allowing you to indulge in food without resorting to cannibalism like he had.

you didn’t want to push your luck with him, but you wondered why he’d grown soft on you.

the man was far from soft or vulnerable, unafraid to push you around or tighten the rope when you spoke out of turn. so, when you had a moment of reprieve after cleaning yourself up, your hair damp and clinging to the side of your face, you forced yourself to ask the question on your mind.

“why’d you remove the rope?” you asked, sitting around a fire on the third night—having never felt safer than with him. your knees were pressed to your chest and you fought away the hunger pangs as your eyes drifted to the ghoul sitting propped against a tree, eyes unseen under his hat.

you were greeted with the sound of a soft grunt as he shifted in his spot, and you could tell that he was thinking of an answer. something he could say that wouldn’t translate to ‘i’m growing tired of treating you like a piece of meat’.

“i don’t needa’ reason,” the ghoul muttered, lifting a hand up to his hat and adjusting it so it covered more of his face, “but that pricey bounty on that pretty head of yours is higher if i make sure you’re alive and well. not my preference, but can’t argue with money.”

the compliment struck a chord in you, one that rose colour to your cheeks and had you turning your head away to look at the small fire. pursing your lips, you weren’t satisfied with the answer.

“i could run away, though. without the rope around my neck,” you piped up, brows furrowing.

a heavy and loud sigh came from the hole in cooper’s face, your eyes lifting to him as you watched him a lift a hand. that hand pushed back the hat on his head so those piercing eyes could meet with your own doe-eyed stare. a smirk grew on his lips and you felt your stomach twist nervously.

“how far do you think you’d get if you tried to run, vaultie?” the ghoul questioned you with that sickening look on his face, “the bounty prefers you alive, but don’t think i won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head if you try to stir up some trouble for me.”

when day seven had rolled around, you found yourself in a predicament that only confused the everlasting fuck out of you. cooper had finally brought you to the man who had some caps for your head—a man who you didn’t even know, but claimed to know your father.

your heart shattered when you were thrown into a cage, bruises already forming on your skin when you had made contact with the shoddy brick wall. eyes fixated on the ghoul who was busy shoving caps into his pockets and taking precious vials from the box that had been offered to him.

what a fool you were to think that the ghoul would change his mind, that maybe he’d have an ounce of empathy in his irradiated body. you were no more valuable than what kept him alive… you couldn’t blame him for that.

“well, well,” the man spoke, his body covered in dirt and grime, teeth so decayed you could smell his breath even as he stood over you after entering the makeshift cell, “don’t try squirm on me now, we’re going to get ya’ all tied up… then i’ll have some fun with you.”

your lips quaked in fear, the first time you truly felt fear in days. cooper, the ghoul, had become your safety net and yet he tossed you away like you were nothing. into the hands of a pig, no less.

“don’t touch me,” you yelled at him, hearing the sounds of footsteps retreating.

you were alone.

“quit making a fuss,” the man spit at you, “the quieter you are, the less this will hurt.”

the sound of a distant gunshot had caused the man to pull away from you, and for you to perk up in your position on the ground. you hadn’t realized your entire body was shaking and you assumed the worst—someone was about to come in here and kill you.

why the hell did you ever think coming to the surface was a good idea?

you quickly sink back against the wall as you hear commotion, men yelling and more gunshots. it was a shootout.

“what the fuck is going on?” the man in front of you yelled, but no one answered. he spun on his feet and bent down in front of you, a heavy hand grabbing tight at your wrist, “get up, we’re leaving.”

“wha—“

you words were cut off when footsteps entered the room once more, the man quickly standing and dropping you back to the floor hastily where the back of your head smacked hard against the brick wall and left your vision hazy.

“you stupid ghoul,” the man roared and you felt your chest flutter, even as another gun shot rang through your ears and blood splatted across your face, a gurgling sound filling your ears.

through your blurred vision, you looked up just as the grotesque man collapsed in front of you, blood spilling out of the wound in his neck as he twitched until the blood loss killed him.

“cooper?” your voice croaked, the name slipping from your tongue easily. a name you’d wriggled out from him just a couple days prior.

a figure knelt in front of you, you immediately recognized those eyes even as your vision had grown spotty. you parted your lips to say more, but nothing came out.

“stay with me,” his southern drawl comforted you as you felt your mind edging the line of unconsciousness, the pain in the back of your head feeling cold now, “vaultie—“

the crackling of a fire was all you heard when your eyes fluttered open, red and orange filling your pupils as the smell of smoke filled your lungs. there was something underneath your body, leathery fabric… and something brushing through your hair.

smacking your lips together, you tried to sit up but failed immediately when you realized your body wasn’t ready for moving yet.

“slow down, cowgirl,” a voice spoke, “we’re in no rush.”

that’s when you realize that there were fingers in your hair. cooper’s fingers. why was he soothing you? when did you get here?

“you left me,” your voice was weak, still hardly able to keep your eyes open, but you figured a stimpack was the reason you hadn’t felt anymore pain from the back of your head. your first concussion.

“almost did,” he said, a heavy sigh coming from him, but nothing else to explain his actions.

tilting your head back just enough, you were able to spot cooper sitting next to you, legs outstretched in front of him and head tilted back against the wall he leaned up against. he’d found an old building to set up the night in, all of the windows shattered and broken, so the smoke from the small fire had a place to escape.

“but you came back,” you murmured, rolling slowly until you were on your back and cooper had to retract his hand from your hair, arms instead settling over his chest, “i thought you hated me.”

a snort, which you could only assume was his form of laughter, came from the ghoul. a smirk playing along his lips as you watched him from your position on the floor, his leather jacket keeping you from laying on the layer of dust that accumulated in the building.

“if i hated you, darling, you would’ve been gone the moment i laid eyes on you,” cooper answered honestly. you finally got that vulnerability you asked for.

your lips twitched, hiding back a smile as you adjusted yourself more comfortably on his coat that he so lovingly rested you on. as you laid there in silence, allowing your eyes to fall shut once more, you couldn’t help but wonder where you’d be in the coming weeks.

now that cooper had delivered his bounty, you wondered what could be next on his plate of adventure. you hoped that you’d be able to convince him to help find your father, but that was a conversation you’d wait for in the morning.

for now, you were content with the feeling of gentle comfort as his hand returned to your hair, calloused, weathered fingers pulling through the strands as you lulled back to sleep—knowing that you’d somehow found your way in the ghoul’s heart.

[sink-me-in-your-ocean]

𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 II

How would the Ghouls & Copia manhandle you when you’re being naughty?

Prompt by the illustrious @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus

NSFW/Suggestive below the cut.

Copia:

At first, he doesn’t realize why you’re doing what you’re doing

But then he puts the pieces together, and it makes his hands twitch

He makes you lay across his knees, never needing to ask more than once

He’s going to spank you with his gloved hands

He makes you count each one

“How many was that?”

“Five.” 

“You’re not counting properly, either that or you’re lying intentionally. I have no idea why you’d do such a thing.”

“I’d never say less with the intention of you giving me more on purpose.”

“I’m beginning to think these punishments aren’t working on you anymore, amore. Let’s try something else...”

-

Swiss:

Won’t hesitate to put you on a leash when you step out of line

When a leash won’t work he’ll resort to other methods

Ties. You. Down.

He will step back to admire his handiwork on you, after a moment of staring he forgets your transgressions because of how good you look tied up

He’s lost in the sauce

“Sweet fucking hells, you’ve never looked better.”

The gag in your mouth keeps you from speaking.

“Remind me, what were you doing that was so bad earlier?”

“Hrmph - ” The sound was muffled.

“Shhh, don’t talk with your mouth full. Now just stay right there.”

-

Phantom:

When you act up, it flips a switch in his brain

Picks you up with ease from the side, lifting you bridal style into his arms

The tightness of his grip on you speaks volumes to his possessiveness 

He scans for an unoccupied room, hells, even a dark corner to take you

He needs you immediately and he knows you need him just as badly

“Oh you’ve done it now, you’ve got my attention, so let’s go.”

“Phantom, slow down!”

“No. You fired me up now you can bring me back down.” He sets you down once you’re behind closed doors. “On your fucking knees.”

You kneel in front of him, eager to please him after misbehaving.

“Oh fuck, yes, such a good girl, just like that.”

-

Dewdrop/Sodo:

Misbehaving is a broad term to this ghoul, in fact, he likes when you’re naughty

Except when you give any attention to his brothers

Now that is a sure-fire way to pour gasoline on his flames

He comes up behind you when you least expect it (see where this is going?)

His long fingers wrap around your throat, pressing intentionally on your arteries, your head swooning in seconds

“Don’t go all limp on me yet.”

“But, Dew -” you whimper.

“Come on, you know exactly what you do to me. It was intentional, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now I’m going to be very intentional with you. I’m not letting you out of my sight the rest of the night.”

-

Rain:

He has infinite patience, at least until you vex him

And boy howdy, once you’ve crossed that bridge you’d better be prepared

There’s a determined look in his eye as he stalks towards you

He grabs your wrist, and even if you try to pull away, it’s impossible, his grip strength is too much

He drags you with him through the nearest corridor to a quiet space

“You’re going to be nice and quiet now for me.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll make you.”

His hand clamps over your lips shockingly fast, leaving you a thin line to breathe from your nose.

“I love seeing you get a taste of your own medicine. Don’t like it when I match your energy? Don’t misbehave.”

-

Mountain:

Sits and watches stoically as you make a fool out of yourself 

Doesn’t need to say anything

Doesn’t need to do anything, but he does

He easily scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder

He could spank you from here, but he prefers his partner underneath him (If you know what I mean)

“You do have to do all of that to get my attention, you know.” He plops you on his bed, climbing on top of you.

“I know, but maybe I’m looking for bad attention.”

“Yeah?”

You whine and writhe underneath him as he smacks (not hard) the thickness of your outer thigh.

“That’s what you want? Just ask next time, little villainess.”

-

Just da bois this time, but if you’d like me to include the ghoulettes pls just comment, I’m happy to oblige a fellow ghoulette lover! ( *︾▽︾)

Ghoulette Version Here!

[ghoulphile]

I just read one where somebody was talking about how the ghoul would be able to smell if the reader was on her period and on another note…imagine if he could smell that she’s aroused by him. him telling her to cut that shit out and her being like what are u talking about????

“pheromones, sweetheart. ain’t a man in the wasteland who can’t smell ya right now, ghoul or otherwise” 🫢

ok ok ok but hold up!!! that is one of my fave tropes for ghouls besides the whole marking with cum to stop ferals 🥴 my personal hc is that ghouls have enhanced senses so better everything.

maybe you’ve gotta rub one out while you’re traveling together bc you just can’t help it anymore - you’ve been clenching your thighs and shifting and trying to ignore it but if you hope to get any sleep, you’re gonna have to take matters into your own hands.

you’re quiet as a mouse, perfunctory in how you play with your clit and fuck yourself with your fingers. you wanna be as quick and efficient as possible. after all, he’s on the other side of the blown out wall after all, murmuring to dogmeat and stoking the camp fire.

the most you’ll allow yourself are these little hitching breaths, praying the slick sound of you playing with yourself isn’t audible among the noise of wasteland nights. and when you finally cum with a bitten of choke of breath, stumbling on weak knees to plop across from him, he barely glances your way.

his face might tilt oddly but he doesn’t say anything so you think you get away with it. and because you think you’re sly, you start doing this pretty regularly. every time ends the same, you sitting across from him sweaty and buzzing with satisfaction, him quietly contemplating you before turning his attention away.

except… you push too far eventually.

you’d slunk your way back to the campsite after riding your fingers, slick still stuck in the creases of your knuckles (you wiped them clean, or rather as clean as you could in the middle of the wasteland, but tattered rags only do so much). the flames of a low banked fire dance in the abyss of his eyes with a firefly glow. his stare is more intense than ususal, and you fluster.

fuck. he knows. doesn’t he?

then he’s asking you to hand him something, and you do - only for him to strike rattlesnake quick. rough fingers drag over the delicate skin of your wrist, digging into your thudding pulse point.

“what-“ your wide eyes snap up to his, and you shake your hand. his grip is like steel. “let go!”

“see, funny thing is, i don’ think you really want me ta.”

“the hell is that supposed to mean?”

a sound rumbles from his chest, full of grit and gravel; bourbon heat. “don’ play coy with me lil girl. i’ve been smellin’ how wet you get for days.”

your heart stops, eyes squeezing shut and face turning away. his gaze lingers like a physical caress as it drags down your cheek, snagging on the tuck of your lip between your teeth.

he laughs, rusty and mean. “oh, sweetie, you think i ain’t noticed by now? didn’t hear all those precious lil sounds you made? that’s real cute.”

“i-i’m…”

sorry.

“how’s about you give me a practical demonstration, yeah?”

he tugs at your wrist, brings your hand close to his face. you feel the puff of his breath. the slick drag of his tongue as he laps at the webbing between your fingers, chasing after the remnants of your slick.

“think i’m owed that much for all the teasin’.”

[lisired]

forever yours

pairing: haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut (lots of it), horror, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, major character death, mentions of suicide, oral (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), exhibitionism

summary: Thirst for exhilaration and a stupid dare brings you, your boyfriend Haechan, and your friends to the eerie camping grounds of Chimera - the name of a town rumored to be occupied by a number of vengeful, lurking spirits. But nothing is as it seems in this ghost town.

word count: 23k (see what had happened was…)

a/n: Halloween is gone but I just could not pass the opportunity to finally write a Haechan horror fic. as always, feedback is appreciated!

There was blood in your mouth. 

A tart, pungent taste followed. Your tongue ached, crying with agony. 

You pivoted around and groaned, “What the hell?” 

As it turned out, the culprit was no other than Winter. And you were less than pleased to be met with the sight of your own best friend giggling in your face. 

“You should have seen your face,” Winter teased, laughing to the point of tears. 

You only rolled your eyes. Curse her and her stupid shenanigans. October was official and Halloween was fresh in the air and given so, she would be a constant of mischief.

Fortunately for Winter, she was your best friend. If not, you would not have hesitated to give her a very large piece of your mind. 

You whined, “You made me bite my tongue.”

Your boyfriend, Haechan, snapped out of his fury-induced trance long enough to pull you close and ask wrathfully, “You’re hurt?” 

“Just a little,” you admitted with a grimace. Now, it hurt to speak. You swayed on the heels of your feet to press a placating kiss to the corner of his lips and say, “Don’t worry, baby. I’m okay.”

Apologetic, Winter frowned and told you, “I’m sorry, bestie. I’m sure Haechan will kiss it better. Seeing as you were a total of two seconds from swallowing each other’s tongues and all.”

Like she was a fly, you swatted her away and sent her off snickering incessantly. Your boyfriend was most likely turned off by now, all things considered. You were about to kiss before Winter screeched, “Bug!” and effectively gave you the scare of your life. 

You were in the middle of nowhere, after all. Chimera was a ghost town with a very tiny population and even fewer tourist attractions because anyone who valued their life would not dare explore the haunted hell town. 

Not to mention you were in the woods. You were on creepy-crawly territory. A stupid, childish dare brought you to the wicked. Last weekend, Jaehyun instigated a game of truth or dare for old times sake, and dared you all to stay a weekend at the haunted camping site. So the story goes. Neither of you were adamant believers in ghoul tales. 

At one point in his tetchiness, Haechan’s expression began to teeter between devilish and sinister, and a very gray area existed there. His dark eyes glared into the distance, although your best friend had already sauntered off in hounding of her next victim. 

Very rarely did your boyfriend wind up on the suffering end of vexation, but having his time with you interrupted would never not do the trick. 

Every time without fail. 

Nevertheless, you couldn’t blame him, but it made your heart swell with sadness. Alas, jam-packed work schedules and even less time for yourselves, your time together nowadays was limited. You came home to each other every night, but grueling days of work meant you were often sound asleep by the time he arrived. 

Sometimes, you would bring work home with you and stay up late, but Haechan would be snoring by the time you finally finished up and crawled under the sheets of your shared bed. 

This put a bit of strain on not only your relationship, but your friendships. Which was part of the reason you agreed to the stupid dare in the first place.

Obviously, it still wasn’t just the two of you, but you’d make it work. You had to. Alongside your best friend, her boyfriend, Jaehyun, was here. Like hell he would send the love of his life into haunted woods without him there to protect her. As well as Ten and Yuta. 

Your boyfriend was still displeased. A part of you was comforted by his protectiveness over you. Still, you wanted to soothe him before all hell broke loose. Bracing a hand on your boyfriend’s chest, you consoled, “Baby, I’m fine. I swear.”

Your lover was aflame, though the sweet sound of your voice made him soften. Only a little. He made sure you were flush against his body. “Promise?”

“I promise,” you replied, grinning from ear to ear. And sending his heart gravitating towards the moon. Then, you purred, “How about we go let off some of that steam in the cabin?”

Haechan smirked and you knew that you had your boyfriend back. “I like the way that sexy brain of yours thinks.”

Giggling, the two of you raced to the cabin. 

Your new home for the weekend was a tiny wooden cabin that was surprisingly very warm and comfy. There were three in total, each surrounding a campfire area. A lake was not too far off and cleared for safe swimming. And there were a couple of trails nearby. 

For an avowedly haunted campground, it was beautiful as far as you’d seen. There were vibrant wildflowers scattered everywhere and the water was crystal-fucking-clear. The sound of nature - leaves rustling in the wind and squirrels clambering up tree branches - was pleasantly therapeutic. 

Now, you were thinking about morning sex with Haechan, moans masking the sounds of birds chirping. 

The sight of you rushing to your cabin, nearly tripping over twigs in the process, was nothing short of comical. Though you found slight humor in your desperation, there was a rationale behind your every move. Above all, you couldn’t remember the last time you and your boyfriend had sex, and you were in need of a refresher. 

The kind of refresher only good dick and loving could give you.

Haechan very nearly kicked in the door. You let out a cry of surprise when he jerked it back in place with his toe and flung you against the surface, kissing you none too gently. 

You lingered there for a long while, making out in a hot, messy battle to conquer. Your chest heaved breathlessly, moans dangling from your lips in departure as you sucked each other’s tongues with pleasure. For a second, you pulled back, bringing your lips to that sweet spot on your boyfriend’s empty neck. For now. 

When he made a sharp noise and swiftly lowered you to the bed, you knew you were in for one hell of a fucking. 

It went without saying that this was going to be a far cry from a typical round of love-making. Your boyfriend was going to fuck you until every inch of the forest knew his name.

At the sight of you fumbling with his pants, Haechan chuckled and gathered your hands in his, teasing, “Slow down, baby girl.”

“Fuck me,” you heaved, as if the air had suddenly gotten thicker. Your eyes begged for him to give what you desperately craved on behalf of your body. “Hyuck, please.”

Your boyfriend gave a shake of his head, donning the most taunting smile. “Not yet,” he said, chuckling. It was nothing short of delightful to hear you beg for him, but he needed to savor you. It had been too long. “Not before I get a taste.”

Not a second later, your core throbbed, obviously excited about something now. Haechan was quick on his feet and between your thighs in the time that it took you to blink. Your panties disappeared with a yank, quickly tossed into oblivion. Your body shivered in anticipation, knowing what was to come. Haechan ate you out better than anyone to date. 

You got comfortable, laying sprawled and vulnerable. Your boyfriend was in a temporary trance, eyeing your glistening cunt with sheer admiration. You could feel the heat of his breath there, making you tingle with want all over. 

Haechan could feel himself twitching in his pants. Fuck, you were already so damn wet. Though that was nothing new. There was something about making out with your boyfriend that could arouse you like nothing else. 

Before he caved, Haechan made sure to tease, “Be careful not to scream. Your tongue will hate me.”

That made you roll your eyes, identifying your boyfriend as his usual cocky self. Though for good reason. No man had ever made you scream much like him. “Try not to make me scream. Everyone will hate us,” you quipped. 

“No can do, baby. I’m a natural.”

With a shake of your head, you shook with laughter. Granted, there was a good amount of feet between each cabin, but when at your boyfriend’s mercy, you were loud enough to wake the worlds below and above. 

Ever the tease, Haechan lifted his lips and kissed his way from your belly down to the vertex of your plush thighs. You made a noise, noticing he’d skipped between. He nibbled at the edges, rendering you impatient and weaker. You could only writhe and whimper, aware that you were being tested. Or toyed with, for that matter. 

Then, your lover went to town, having his fill of riling you up. You shuddered, eyes closing the very second his tongue muscled in your slick folds. Every muscle in your body was taut with tension. A kind of tension only concocted over time by a lack thereof to be broken loose.

There was a catch in your breath when Haechan lapped at you without holding back. He was a creature of desire, fingernails clamped harshly into your unfurled thighs. You were already moaning, already crying his name. There was no limit on him, none on pleasure when with him. You could already sense the tension dwindling in place of a different kind; the ecstatic variety. 

Though you had been inclined to watch the view, your head angled back in a soft sigh, flush against the pillows. It was a talent how effortlessly Haechan could dismantle you. More or less. The language of your body was indefinitely etched into his memory. 

“God. Oh my fucking…,” you gasped, sentence interrupted by an ensuing moan. This was only the beginning and yet already you were undone. 

Haechan tasted your arousal on the very tip of his tongue and let out an unrestrained, beast-like growl of pleasure. In your mind, it almost seemed fitting. He lapped at you like a ravenous creature. But in his mind, you were the one to blame. You always had to taste so damn sweet. 

You fisted locks of his hair in your fingers, back arching when he targeted your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your body was aflame, and you could feel the blood pumping through your veins hotly. “Don’t stop. Baby, please don’t stop,” you choked, promptly reduced to whimpers of pleasure. And cries of your lover’s name. 

A vortex of pleasure consumed you, tossing you unceremoniously around the eye. Your thighs and toes tingled, a sign that your entire body was very much awake and alert. It came to life at Haechan’s touch, turned on at the way his tongue pivoted on your clit and penetrated your tight hole. There were sparks broiling under your skin, ignited everywhere. 

Haechan slid two fingers inside your pulsing cunt and your eyes promptly rolled to the back of your skull. 

For whatever reason, he was grinning from ear to ear. This was far from his first rodeo, and after years of this relationship, he had the once-mystery of your mind and body completely unraveled. No matter how much you tried to writhe away, overstimulated by the pleasure, there was no such thing as escape.  

He liked watching you squirm as if you had anywhere to flee, bracing his palms on your naked thighs. He liked watching you involuntarily arch your back and rock your hips into his mouth with greed, your systems entering shutdown. Even more, he liked that he made so much of a mess of you that you could hardly seem to tell what you wanted anymore, but the arousal dripping from your cunt was a telltale sign of desire. 

Just like magic, weeks of stress were long-forgotten. Haechan singlehandedly set you at ease and riled you up all the while. Tears of pleasure welled in your eyes and you clamped tightly around his fingers. 

You never knew pleasure of this capacity existed before your boyfriend. He brought you to a different sphere and back, took you higher than you’d ever been. Darn the world. Your boyfriend showed you the universe and made you see every star visible to your eyes. No one had ever made you feel like this. 

Which was not unbeknown to Haechan. When you began to explore your sexuality together, you detailed your past sexcapades very thoroughly to him. None as sensational as those with your boyfriend. As it turned out, they all lacked one thing in common; a partner with as much devotion to your satisfaction as your own. 

They treated pleasuring you like it was menial drudgery. Not Haechan. Even now, he was ignoring the way his cock twitched between his thighs, aching to be freed. Your pleasure was paramount and he would not rest until he made you come. 

He wanted to be the only one you needed and proved to you every single day that you were destined to be together. And you were content with that. You wondered how on earth you’d finally been lucky enough to find a guy that loved you as much as he loved himself. There was no one else for you, you knew that in your bones. Everything felt meant to be with him. 

Unshakable and intangible. You wouldn’t have it any other way. This was a boy you would die and give your soul for. 

And also wanted to suck the soul out of. 

“Haechan, please. Fuck. Please,” you whimpered meekly, without a shred of idea of what you were even begging for. 

Though Haechan knew. You were simply so predictable to him by now. He learned to recognize when you were near, all of the glaringly obvious signs, given that you were not subtle in the slightest. With you grinding into his mouth, it was no secret you were on the verge of a sweet release. 

Haechan let his fingers pull the weight and clamped his teeth into the core of your thighs, then growled, “Come on, my pretty girl. Let go for me.”

Your dear boyfriend became ruthless at light speed, devouring you whole with his tongue like he wanted to leave not even a crumb of you to remain. His fingers were double kill, strumming you to ecstasy. 

Your body submitted to his commands, because of course it did. Haechan dominated you. Even if you wanted to disobey him, it was your body’s natural choice to comply. Every inch of you was owned by your lover and he had no intention of giving it back. Not that you wanted it. You took delight in handing him the reins. 

You were unstill, shaken with orgasm. There was a sharp tingle, swelling up your spine and closing in all over. It was too much. Your pussy throbbed, kneading his fingers hotly and you gave one final cry of his name before your body caved in to destruction, instantly going limp.  

Though you were overwhelmed, you should have known Haechan was far from finished. Never one to stop at a single orgasm, your boyfriend ate you out until you physically could not take it anymore, making you shudder with unalloyed pleasure over and over and over again. 

And given how long it had been since your boyfriend’s head had been between your thighs, you weren’t necessarily complaining.

Your chest was heaving and you were clinging to whatever remained of your breath for dear life when he eased up. Your most intense orgasms were always due to a combination of your boyfriend’s relentlessness and your extreme pent-up stress or sexual frustration. 

“You screamed a lot,” Haechan said, sucking your arousal off his fingers and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

You fought a tiny smirk. You always loved the way he looked with your arousal coating his plush, pink lips. Instead, you rolled your eyes and retorted through ragged breath, “Fuck you.”

Haechan casted a smug grin and didn’t hesitate to scoff, “I’m sure you want to.”

Damn it. Now you were absorbed in the thought of him fucking you within an inch of your life. “Please… I can’t wait anymore,” you begged, core still aching no matter how many times he pleasured you. He made you insatiable. 

“I could never tell my pretty girl ‘no,’” Haechan crooned, inching in on you to scoop you in his sun-kissed arms. You giggled when he surprised you with a kiss. “I’ll take care of you.”

As always. 

True to his word, your wonderful boyfriend began to shred himself of his clothes. With your voluntary assistance, of course. You gaped open-mouthed at the sight of his thick cock standing at attention against his stomach, lost for words and short of breath.

Never passing up the opportunity to tease you, Haechan chaffed, “Baby, close your mouth. You’ll catch flies.”

Heat wafted over you. Your voice was small, “Haechan…,”

“Shh. I know, baby. I know,” he whispered. 

Your lover kneeled between your thighs and you spread them for him instantly. Haechan smirked at how pliant you were. He never needed to ask, because it was simply second nature for your body to bend to his every will. 

He tapped his cock against your folds, asking, “How rough do you want it?”

“Break me,” you rasped without a second thought. 

Haechan grinned, full of mischief. 

He pushed in nice and slow, never wanting to hurt you. He lowered his head and met his lips to yours, kissing you as if it would distract you from the feeling of being slowly but surely stretched open. “Open up for me,” he hissed, pulse pumping at how tightly you gripped his cock, on the border of something vice-like. 

“You’re so… so big,” you choked out, anchoring yourself in the sheets with your nails. 

“Mm. Yeah?” Haechan asked, the slyest of smiles on his lips. “But you can take it. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You bobbed your head and your mouth parted, passing a soft moan. 

Haechan thought you wrapped around his bare cock too good, too withering and tight. He was sure pleasure of this magnitude only lived between you and him, irreplicable. Even so quickly you were making short work of him, leaving him with shackled self-restraint and half a mind to destroy what was left of you. 

You forwent the condoms roughly half a year into the relationship. Which was two and a half years ago. Though you took birth control pills and had no intention of becoming pregnant any time soon, if you were to have anyone’s baby, you knew it would only be your boyfriend’s. Thoughts of carrying his baby and raising a child together in your home plagued your mind, and you smiled from ear to ear. 

Your boyfriend glanced at you through his lashes and an invisible string tugged his heart at the sight of you. “What’re you smiling about?”

“You,” you said with hesitation. “I love you. And I want to love you forever.”

“Funny thing to say to the guy that’s about to wreck you.”

You rolled your eyes. It would kill him to be serious even for a second. You added, “He’s also the love of my life.”

Haechan softened. Only a little. “I love you, too,” he whispered, touch betraying his affectionate words as his fingers found purchase at the flesh of your hips. 

A grimace painted your face as Haechan sank his nails deeper and deeper. 

From that point on, Haechan fucked you as if he loathed all there was about you, save for your body. He kept a brutal pace, seemingly fucking you fuller and fuller of his cock with every passing push. Over your soft moans, you could hear his hips meeting yours with a loud, resounding thwack, and your cunt gushing hotly. 

Upon his death-grip, your lover’s name dangled from your tongue in dangerously sharp cries, sweet as honey and thick as tar. Your fingers scouted his biceps, desperate for some kind of anchorage. Haechan let out a dangerously low growl and you immediately tightened. For as long as you’d known him, your boyfriend had always been somewhere in the gray area between sadism and masochism. 

When asked about it, he told you, “There’s no such thing as pleasure without pain, baby. A very thin line separates the two.”

As twisted as it sounded, you agreed. 

The bed and your bodies performed in league to fill the void in the cabin, the former creaking with every reverberating slap of the latter meeting together. 

You were unapologetically vocal, but Haechan too sang his praises when balls deep inside you. At first, you were pleasantly surprised by his unabashed responses. Most of the guys you’d been with prior would stifle anything above a throaty groan. But when your body talked to him, he spoke back even louder. 

Your boyfriend never hid his affection for you. You were the reason he breathed everyday and he would let his body tell you as much. 

Haechan clamped his tanned arm around your throat and you whimpered. The chokehold was tight just enough to not harm you, but still have you begging for breath. He gave you nowhere else to look but his dark eyes, gleaming darkly with lust and lust only. 

He was all you could see. More specifically his eyes. Yours were locked there, unable to glance away. The only time they were out of sight was whenever your vision was peeling off at the edges by inevitable darkness. 

Haechan cocked his head a little, observing his creation. You were coming apart at the seams, eyes widened and lips parted, trying to take in oxygen. “Hard enough for you, baby?”

“Harder,” you managed to croak.  

Your boyfriend shook his head and laughed. Though nothing surprised him anymore. You took whatever he gave you with an insatiable kind of greed, as if there was no such thing as enough where he was involved. 

Even when sated, you only kept coming back for more. 

His pace was hard and unabating. A sharp cry split your lips when he bit your neck, nibbling at the flesh as he roughly fucked you into the mattress. You were unstill, a depthless well of ecstasy. Pleasure knew no boundaries. It was too greedy. It took, consumed, and it dominated. 

Haechan was right. There was a thin line between pain and pleasure and you were somewhere in the middle, teetering in between. 

The entire room was scorching. You soaked in the sight of sweat beading at your boyfriend’s forehead and gushed hotly around his cock, limbs locked together like a cluster of vines, hot skin on even hotter skin. Haechan’s grip on your throat slackened to hear you moan clearer when his tongue laced into you instead. 

You sweltered. And were positive that you would die. What a marvelous way to die, you thought humorously. With the love of your life by your side. You would have it no other way. 

Your back arched and you rocked your hips into his, desperate for more heat and friction. Only he could give it to you. 

That was how Haechan could tell you were close and he brought his fingers to your wet sex, strumming your swollen bundle of nerves. He was almost there and he wanted you to finish together. You cried out his name, clasping his biceps. 

“Cum. You know you want to,” Haechan hummed tauntingly. 

Your legs wrapped around his hips to draw him deeper inside. There was something about being at the brink of climax that rendered your entire body weak. Every piece of you was tempted into doing whatever he desired; whatever his heart desired. You wanted to please him. More than anything, you wanted to make him proud.

Haechan clamped his hands around your throat anew and that was all it took to finish you. Your mouth opened, crying his name as you finally crossed the threshold of orgasm. The tingles returned, prickling with the warm, pumping blood through your limbs. 

You gripped his cock and he came in turn, filling you to the brim with warmth with a sweet, high-pitched moan of your name. 

Haechan glanced over at you. He never got enough of the look on your pretty face when you shuddered, still throbbing and milking his cock dry until he eventually stilled inside you. You heaved for breath and his eyes soaked in your whole body, barely fighting a smile as he noticed all of the bruises and marks leftover. 

He never wanted to hurt you, but subconsciously, there was a part of him that found twisted pleasure. It meant you were his. He owned you, but you owned him. Every inch. 

For a while, you both only laid there, smiling and laughing at each other. Then, Haechan swooped you into his arms and muttered into the crook of your neck, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

You beamed. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Haechan replied, pressing the lightest of kisses to your lips. 

“No, I love you more.”

Haechan whined, “Jesus, woman. I love you more, and that’s final.”

The two of you continued to bicker as if you were teenagers in love for the very first time. It reminded you of the early stages of your relationship, stealing and prolonging time before the other had to leave by initiating an “I love you” battle. 

As the years passed, you learned to savor every moment you had together. Time became scarcer by the day. It was not to be had when you were two adults with heavy workloads. 

Your boss made it his mission to call you into work even on weekends. Before he died, at least. That was a couple of weeks ago and needless to say, you were not very disappointed. 

“Rest in hell,” you remembered your co-worker saying. To which you quipped, “No rest for the wicked.”

Haechan crawled back into bed with you after you were both all clean and the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms. You could hardly remember the last time you had. It was always him after you or vice versa. Never together. 

This haunted campground trip would ironically prove to be a nice oasis in a busy stage of your lives, it seemed. 

A shrill scream penetrated the night and you were jolted awake. 

Haechan wiped at his tired eyes and his voice was thick with sleepiness, “Is that Winter screaming in terror, because of Jay, or was that Ten?” 

You nudged your boyfriend. “No, that’s definitely terror. The last time I heard that sound was when Winter walked in on Yuta taking a piss.”

“They all scream like girls.”

“You scream like a girl.”

Haechan whined, “Whose side are you on?” 

Laughing, you shoved the duvet off your bodies and said, “Come on. Let’s go make sure these woods aren’t actually haunted.”

“Or worse - Yuta didn’t forget to zip the bathroom door,” he quipped. 

You snickered. 

Your boyfriend caged you behind his body, insisting that he wanted you to flee in the presence of any actual danger, and he led you outside the cabin. A shroud of fog hung near the ground. The sky was darker than the last you’d seen, perpetually mistier.

Haechan sauntered over to Yuta with you in convey and asked, “What’s with all the raucous?” 

“Winter’s idea of a spooky Halloween,” Yuta said dryly, hands at his hips. 

Your eyes rose and you saw Winter pointing fingers and snickering at a dismayed Ten, hairs standing on end. You figured he must have been the latest victim of her scares. 

Ten’s chest heaved as he yelled, “You are not funny!” 

Winter stuck her tongue out, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Damn right. I’m hi-fucking-larious.”

Jaehyun walked by, chuckling, and announced with a bag of marshmallows in clutch, “Time for s’mores.” 

At the mention of s’mores, the six of you huddled together around the campfire like children at the distribution of sweet candy. Danger dissuaded none of you. Each of you were intent on treating this as a typical camping trip. Per your boyfriend’s idea, your phones were in a cardboard box in Ten and Yuta’s cabin for safekeeping, there were plenty of outdoor activities to keep you entertained, and you were going to spend the weekend bonding together. 

Chimera, as wicked as it may have been, was eerily beautiful. And its nature was on another level. 

“Calories,” Winter squealed rather fondly, clapping excitedly.

You soured the mood and said, “And cavities.”

Winter shot you a glare and had she not been on the other side of fire, she would have leapt over and nudged you in the elbow. 

Instead, your best friend replied coolly, “Don’t worry. I packed Jay and I’s toothbrushes. I sent a reminder in the group chat, so I hope you guys didn’t forget.” 

“I came extensively prepared,” Ten said, snatching a graham cracker from Jaehyun and shoving it in his mouth. Much to Winter’s amusement and Jaehyun’s chagrin. “I brought toothbrushes, books, water, ear plugs, flashlights…” 

Haechan interrupted, “Ear plugs?”

Ten scoffed, “Oh, yes. You and your girlfriend and Jaehyun and Winter are notorious for going all night. I’d rather die than hear those two getting dicked down.”

“You’re just jealous,” you snapped lightheartedly. 

Ten reached for a marshmallow and defended himself a little too swiftly, “Oh, honey. I get dicked down on the regular, but you guys have fun.”

Yuta leaned into your ear from the right and whispered, “And strapped down by you in his dreams.”

“I heard that,” Ten hissed. 

Yuta played innocent and said, “Heard what?” 

Your boyfriend heard it, too, but he only pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of your lips, rubbing it in Ten’s face. 

For his comfort, the topic changed.

The treats began to cook at long last. Haechan made you a s’more, seeing as you were a camping amateur, and you merely watched with fondness twinkling in your eyes. You were so out of your mind in love with your boyfriend that even the simplest of gestures made your heart swell with warmth. 

For the second s’more, Haechan guided you. You stuffed a marshmallow on the tip of a roasting stick and he held your hands in his as you held it over the fire. “Not too close. You don’t want it to catch on fire,” were his words, a certain concentration in his eyes tempting your heart to leap into the wavering flames. 

Ensuing was a treat of chocolatey goodness. 

Your friends were laughing and telling jokes over the campfire and somehow you became so engrossed in the conversation that you didn’t notice your third marshmallow was burning until it was too late. “I burned my marshmallow,” you announced with a frown. 

Yuta had finished up with his, but out of the kindness of his heart, offered to switch. “Have mine,” he insisted. 

“You’re too kind. Thank you,” you replied, appreciative. 

Then, you glanced over to your boyfriend, though he was still chattering with the rest of your friends. For a second, you thought it went unnoticed, but he laced his fingers through yours without a word and that was the end. 

You smiled. He was nothing like any of your past lovers. They were over-possessive and controlling, demanding your constant and undivided attention. Haechan, at worst, was a little clingy. 

He never got jealous over tiny, harmless gestures. The bar was so goddamn low, but finally having a normal guy made you prone to constant comparisons. He was totally chill when you were in the company of male friends and the only time he ever got upset was when you were hurt. 

Which was completely understandable. Instead of seeing you as an object to own, it represented his genuine respect and care for you. 

He’s the one, you thought with a stupid smile on your face. Even your parents agreed and were already calling him their son-in-law. Most people you dated prior didn’t even make it past the front lawn of their house. 

“Did you guys know that Chimera is actually named after a Greek mythical creature?” Ten asked, ever the bookworm. 

Jaehyun insincerely sneered, “Nerd.”

Ten ignored him with a roll of his eyes and continued, “In Greek mythology, the Chimera were fire-breathing creatures that appeared as a lion with a goat head on its back, and a snake for a tail.”

Haechan asked curiously, “Isn’t it also genetic mutations?”

“In biology, yes,” Ten said matter-of-factly. “It refers to organisms with several different genetic complications or DNA molecules with sequences from different organisms done by laboratories.”

“Wow. What a way to take us back to high school,” Yuta teased. 

You shook your head, intrigued. “No, no. I’m interested. Ten, continue.”

Ten flushed a little and his voice was quieter when he added, “Chimera also means a creature of the imagination. It’s something you dream of, but it’s a tantalizing, unattainable desire.”

Winter chimed in, “I’ve heard stories about Chimera. These woods particularly.”

“Me, too,” Jaehyun said. “The gruesome deaths, the questionable suicides. No wonder nobody wants to come out here, as beautiful as it is.”

You retorted, “Then, what does that make the six of us?”

They laughed. 

“I heard a girl killed herself in these very woods,” Yuta said, voice low over the crackling sound of fire. “But rumor has it she was actually slaughtered.”

“In the early nineteen-eighties. I remember,” Ten replied, slightly unnerved. 

Haechan snickered. “You weren’t even born yet.”

“I read a lot.”

That was obvious. 

Winter whispered eerily, “They say that sometimes you can still hear her footsteps dragging across the dirt, lurking in the night’s darkness.” 

Perfectly on cue, there was an eerie sound from the woods and you couldn’t convince yourself that you were the only one to hear it because each of your heads whipped around all at once. Haechan instinctively coiled an arm around you, prepared to protect you even against the soul of a girl that killed herself forty years ago if he could. 

Or maybe she really didn’t commit suicide. Maybe her killer painted her death as a suicide and now she was seeking revenge on humankind for not seizing the murderer. 

You immediately scolded yourself for being so silly. There was no such thing as ghosts or monsters. You believed in one evil and it was the human race. It’s probably just a squirrel or something, you reassured yourself. A squirrel with painfully inconvenient timing. 

Glancing between your boyfriend, Jaehyun, Ten, and Yuta, you said, “And what the hell are the four of you sitting around for? You’re the men! Go investigate.”

Ten was purely dismayed by the mere thought. “And because I’m a man I should be sacrificed to the devil? Absolutely not. This is how people die in horror movies. They go around poking their nose into places they have no business when they should be running for their lives.”

“Let’s go together,” Haechan said, throwing you all assertive glances. 

There was some reluctance, but you all begrudgingly agreed. As they say, no man left behind. Haechan still kept you flush to his chest, as did Jaehyun with Winter. He had his burly arms coiled above her hips. 

“There’s no girl in the woods,” Yuta murmured under his breath. But you heard him through the thick, strained silence. 

Jaehyun quipped, “Who knows. Maybe there’s one for you and you’ll stop showing my girlfriend your penis.”

Yuta retorted, “She’s the one that walks in on me. Maybe your girlfriend wants to see my penis.”

“Please be quiet,” Winter whined. 

Jaehyun, on a mission to be the world’s greatest boyfriend (and a few places behind, in your biased opinion), silenced himself on command and tightened his clasp below her ribs. He wasn’t all too convinced that there was a ghost in the woods, but he wanted to ease her. It was far more likely that you were all overthinking the sound of some animal minding its business. 

Your boyfriend had the exact same idea and held you even tighter. Whenever in the face of danger, his first instinct was - and would always be - to protect you. Only over his dead body would he allow harm to come your way. 

But even in his soothing embrace there was still a sinister energy that plagued you, alerting you that there was something amiss here. Fog blurred your vision and darkness wore at it, making it difficult to see clearly. 

Ten was prepared as always and turned on one of those flashlights he had mentioned earlier. He handed it to your boyfriend, the one currently leading your pack of six. 

Ever courageous, he led each of you through the night’s wilderness, your pulse thumping in your body the entire time. For whatever reason, the fear in you was unshakable. You had no clue where it emerged from, but it completely unnerved you. 

A sound of twigs snapping stunned you all and Haechan shone the light at a tree where the noise seemed to come from, just quick enough to see a squirrel scurrying up a tree trunk. As far as any of you could tell, it was the same tree the first noise sounded from. Haechan assuringly declared, “It was just a squirrel.”

Your breaths came easier. Exactly what you suspected, but it would never hurt to be one-hundred percent sure. Though even with that burden off your shoulders, unease still penetrated you. 

Jaehyun, Yuta, and your boyfriend seemed fearless, while Ten and Winter were relieved that they’d been frightened over nothing. But you were still not entirely convinced. 

Was it only you? 

The rumors and spooky stories are getting to my head. That’s all, you consoled yourself. You’re in apparently haunted woods. Woods alone are scary enough, haunted or not. And this is your first time. Fear is natural. 

Each of you turned around and headed back to the campfire you hadn’t dared strayed too far from and sensing your unease from a mile away, Haechan pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Don’t be scared, baby girl. If any monster pops out, it will have to get through me before it hurts you,” he whispered softly in your ears. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt, either,” you huffed, voice muffled as you put your head in your boyfriend’s chest. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he told you sweetly. “I’ve been told I resemble a bear. The worst-case scenario is one attacks the trashcan and I have to communicate with it to discourage it.”

“And what if it’s a wolf?” 

Haechan tightened his hold on you, purring, “Well, I’ve also been told I’m big and bad.”

You snickered. Leave it to your wonderful boyfriend to melt your worries away with his equally brilliant humor. He made you forget why you had even been so scared in the first place, all by kissing you and making you laugh. 

The six of you decided you’d had your fill of spooky stories for one night and retired to your cabins for bed. You heard more than a couple of noises from the cabin across from you - Jaehyun and Winter’s - and promptly wished you would have also had the brilliant idea of bringing some noise-cancellation headphones. 

Fortunately for you, your boyfriend was a self-proclaimed genius (and maybe once or twice you fed his ego and agreed), and had an even better idea. He fucked you so hard that you tuned out the rest of the world, unable to hear anything over both of your own moans. 

In the morning, you woke up and took your time to crawl out of bed. Haechan had worn you out and you could still feel the soreness in your thighs from the night before. Not to mention the gentle morning sex you dreamed of, moans soft over the sound of birds tweeting quietly. 

It was closer to afternoon when you finally went outside and got some sunlight. Everyone was in their own atmosphere. You ate breakfast and listened to mother nature for a while. 

There was a lake walking distance from the campground and one of the boys called out your name, boarding two three-person canoes. You recognized the voice as Jaehyun’s and he asked, “Wanna go canoeing with us?”

You mulled it over, but noticing Ten’s eyes on you was all the discouragement you needed. Each of the four boys were aboard, including your boyfriend. Ten was as dear a friend to you as the other two, but that was it. No part of you wanted to make things even more awkward and strained in the friendship than they already were. 

Though you and Haechan may not have dropped any comments, Ten’s lingering eyes were definitely not lost on either of you. Besides, being with a bunch of guys was not your idea of a vacation well-spent. You refused to leave Winter alone at a potentially haunted campground. 

For that reason, you had a feeling that Jaehyun was only asking to tease Ten, but you declined the offer nonetheless and said sweetly, “I’m good. I’ll stay and keep Winter company. You guys have some brotherly bonding time.”

The boys told you to have fun and you bid them likewise. 

You immediately scouted Winter afterwards and found her taking pictures of wildflowers. Unnoticed, you decided to slowly creep towards her, but your fun was ruined when she said without turning around, “I know you’re there. You can’t beat the master at her own game.”

You frowned.

Winter turned around, smirking at the fact that she’d caught you with your trousers down. “What’s up, bestie?”

You flopped against a blanket she’d sprawled across the ground. “Do you think Ten likes me?” you asked, fidgeting. 

“As more than a friend? Definitely,” your best friend said, coming to join you. “Jaehyun told me the boys are going canoeing. I can only hope Haechan doesn’t try to drown him.”

You knew she was only being funny, but the thought made you shiver. Of course, you knew your boyfriend well and he would never. The trust you had in each other was all needed to comfort him and to know that you were all his was more than enough. 

He could be possessive, but not over-possessive. He liked to stake his claim to you, holding you and kissing you in front of people so they knew you were his, and leaving visible marks on your neck in  your alone time for the same purpose. He never demanded your complete attention, as much as he adored being in the center. 

Tiny gestures never made him feel bitter. You had no painful memories of your boyfriend’s jealousy. The opposite, rather. He fucked you extra hard until he felt better. 

You fought a smirk. At worst, he was a little meaner than usual. But damn it did you like it when he was mean and rough. 

You defended your boyfriend and said, “My boyfriend is an angel. He doesn’t get jealous.”

“Your boyfriend is a Gemini. Duh, he gets jealous,” Winter argued teasingly, seeing dead through you. A silent understanding passed between you. She liked the jealousy sex, too. “He was so mad at me yesterday.”

“That’s because he was angry. Not jealous. You hurt me and he hates when I’m hurt.” 

“Whatever,” your best friend replied, fondling with her camera that Jaehyun bought her for her birthday this January. “Wouldn’t it be funny if I reviewed the pictures and I saw a ghost?”

You grimaced. “That’s one way to put it. For sure.”

“Okay, maybe not funny. But I don’t think these woods are haunted. I believe the stories about the suicides and murders, but evil spirits? That’s a humongous stretch.”

Never mind yesterday’s confidence. Now, you only shuddered. Though you wanted to agree, there was something about these woods that rubbed you the completely wrong way. And it wasn’t only the tales of ghosts. There was an intangible kind of fear ready to consume you. No matter how badly you wanted to, you couldn’t put your finger on where it stemmed from. 

That was unnerving to you. Only the weekend before, you were more than excited. There was no telling what traps laid waiting in Chimera, much less its woods, which made you all the more determined to unravel its mystery. 

Now, you wanted to leave the knots as tangled as they’d been discovered. 

“I guess,” you told Winter. If she thought nothing of the environment, then there was a chance you were overthinking it all. 

Winter heaved a pleased sigh. “It’s hard to imagine anyone could taint such a beautiful place with blood,” she said, gesturing around to Mother Nature’s handiwork.

 “That sounded strangely poetic,” you replied, feeling as if you were in some sort of murder mystery novel. 

Winter snickered. “As my favorite writer once said, ‘believe nothing you hear, and only one half that you see.’”

You gave your best friend a look and asked expectantly, “And what does Edgar Allan Poe have to do with anything?”

“Nothing.” Winter shrugged her shoulders. “I just found it fitting.” 

You laughed a little. In spite of its reputation, Chimera was by far one of the most beautiful places you had ever seen. Unsurprisingly, however, that alone wasn’t enough to attract tourists. When you checked the campground website, you ironically noticed they used its hauntedness as promotion to lure campers. 

Clearly, it was working. 

You found it interesting that Chimera was predominantly grass and trees. There were some signs of civilization, as you’d notice on the way to the campground, though mainly towards the center. Areas placed on the periphery of the town were especially rural. 

For instance, the woods. Wildflowers consumed your vision and you understood why Winter was at peace here. You bit your lip. You didn’t want to be a buzz kill, but asked quietly, “Do you ever get the feeling that something you fear is hiding in plain sight?”

Winter nudged you gently. “What do you mean?” 

“It’s just… I don’t know,” you exhaled frustratedly. “Something about this place keeps me on my toes.” 

“Do you think that girl was killed here?” 

You shrugged, trying to feign some semblance of nonchalance. “I think it would be easy to kill anybody here and get away with it. Think about it. There’s a lot of empty land to cover. Easier to live off the grid. You could be abducted from the mainland and no one would ever find you.”

“Okay, you’re thinking too hard,” Winter quipped with a wince. “I get why you’re scared, babe. But I also think you’re supposed to feel that way. For obvious reasons. What you need is a little distraction.”

That made you well with curiosity. “Like what?”

The second the boys were back from canoeing you and your best friend made a beeline to boyfriends, as if you couldn’t wait another. Winter had insisted only moments ago that good dick was all the distraction you needed and as badly as you wanted to make a spiteful argument, you had none to offer. 

But you also wanted to simply talk to Haechan for a while. Not only was he a lover, but a friend wrapped into one. Your boyfriend had a natural ability to abate your fears, but he was also someone that would listen to them and help you wrap your head around them.

You fought a snicker at how badly that made him sound like a therapist. After this trip, you had a feeling you might’ve needed one. 

Haechan sensed there was something off even from the other side of the lake and coiled an arm around below your ribs as soon as he got a chance, asking, “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes flickered. “How’d you know?”

“Gut feeling,” Haechan said with a shrug. “I know when my baby’s suffering. Talk to me.” 

Your heart promptly ricocheted against your ribcage. You glanced around. Jaehyun and Winter had already snuck off to their cabin for some loving while Yuta and Ten were chattering about whatever, but you still were in need of some privacy. 

You slithered into his arms and murmured, “I wanna be alone. With you.”

“There’s a nice little two-mile trail over here. Takes you around and back from over that way. We could shortcut it and be back in about thirty minutes or take the long way and come back in about sixty.”

“Let’s do it,” you said, gesturing for him to lead the way. 

Going deeper into the forbidden woods was not your idea of resolving your fears, but the marvelous landscape gave you little room for complaints. Plus, being there with your boyfriend was almost romantic. 

There was something about all this beauty that made you fear what was cloaked beneath. 

Haechan was very patient with you and for a while you both walked in silence, absorbing your surroundings until he said, “Ready to tell me what’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know what it is, really. But this place gives me the creeps and I can’t explain why. It just does.” 

“It’s not just the reputation, is it?” Haechan asked, seeing right through you. 

It was almost scary how perfectly Haechan could piece you together. Nobody had you more figured out than he did. “You read me so well,” you murmured. 

Haechan chuckled. “I call it the fear of the unknown. You don’t know what’s out there, so anything could be out there. The shit we fear is often the same shit we can’t control, and that’s why it scares us.”

“Does the unknown scare you?” 

“No,” Haechan said, but draped an arm over you as a reminder you weren’t alone. “I like unpredictability. Anything could happen. But I understand why it terrifies some people.”

You teased, “Then, what are you afraid of?”

Your boyfriend’s tone and response in general was a hell of a lot more sober than you were expecting, “Stagnation and routine. I hate being confined to patterns. You already know that, though.”

That you did. Haechan mentioned he was considering switching jobs solely because he wanted more flexibility in life. The pay was nice and so was the insurance and paid vacations, but something had to give. 

You supported him wholeheartedly, of course. Haechan never minded change and would have no problem adjusting, plus only having weekends (and scarce vacations) to each other was a ginormous test of your patience. He wanted more out of life. If he couldn’t spend it with you, then he saw little point. 

“Is that all?” you pressed. He was brave, but not fearless. The reminder was very warm to you. And strangely comforting. 

Haechan said without hesitation, “And losing you because of them.”

Damn it. Now, your heart was racing. It was no question how your boyfriend managed to sweep you off your feet. He was full of endless charm and sincerity. There was a kind of passion to him about you that was undeniable and never questionable. 

You abandoned your self-restraint at the campground and rose off the heels of your shoes, meeting your lips to his. He had to be out of his goddamn mind if he thought he would lose you any time soon. There was no way in hell you would be capable of replacing him. In a world without your boyfriend, you would rather die lonely. 

There was also something about learning your boyfriend’s fears that took the edge off your own. Maybe whatever they were rooted in was much simpler. This place spooked you because of the reputation attached. That was all. 

And now that you were making out with your boyfriend, his heavy hands on your hips, you really couldn’t have given less of a damn about these woods. 

He had the same idea and pulled you over by a tree. For a second, you clung onto your mind long enough to wonder what in the hell you were doing. Then, you lost it just as quickly. There was nothing but trees and plants out here. And maybe a couple of animals that would soon be traumatized. With the coast clear, you were welcome to be as reckless as you liked. 

Haechan instructed, “Knees.” 

You wasted absolutely no time in scrambling to your knees, what was left of your mind too warped to give a damn about the twigs crunching beneath your kneecaps. As always, you wanted to pleasure him and make him proud. Whatever the price may have been, you’d gladly pay it. No matter the sacrifice. 

Your boyfriend was amused, though not at all surprised when you hurriedly reached for his pants, tugging them down before he got the chance to give the order. You wanted to taste that big dick down your throat. 

There was something about Haechan’s size that made your mouth water and gape, ripe and ready, though also left you clenching around nothing at all. Obviously, you’d seen it a number of times before, but the element of surprise was a constant, non-changing factor. Damn it, you would never get tired of his cock. 

Haechan noticed the dazed look in your eyes and smirked. He tapped his cock against your lips and said, “Do you got it, or do you want me to fuck your throat?” 

“I’m going to suck the soul out of you,” you said with an unwavering kind of confidence. 

Haechan gave a snicker. He fisted your hair behind your head and you swiftly got to work, wasting not another second to swirl your tongue around the base of his cock. You liked riling him up, liked taking your time to draw him between your lips and you knew your boyfriend liked it, too. No matter how much he bitched and whined.

“Fuck,” Haechan whined when your tongue teased the tip. He was hard as bricks, which took pretty much nothing to happen whenever you were involved. 

You took his noises with delight, doing your best to ignore the tireless thumping between your plush thighs. As a distraction, you finally drew him inside your mouth, steadily swallowing him inch by damn inch as a measure to prevent yourself from gagging. Your cheeks were hollowed, breath entering through your nose. 

Haechan’s grip on your hair tightened as he hissed, a telltale sign you were doing something very right. Your mouth was so unfathomably darn warm around his size that he was beginning to lose his mind, but to be frank, he lost it the very same day he met you. 

A part of him used to hope that you would give it back, but insanity was a close friend of his now. Or maybe it was the dormant monster living eternally inside him, roused by you for whatever reason. And it was ravenously hungry. 

A kind of greed came over and dominated you, possessing you to suck him like you genuinely intended to suck the soul out of him. As many times as you’d done it before, there could only be so much of his soul still there, though not pleasure. Pleasure was forever and always. “Just like that,” Haechan moaned, basking in the heat of your tongue pressed to his cock. 

His praises only spurred you on. There was nothing you liked more than knowing how good you could make your boyfriend feel. Between the two of you lay a ride-or-die bond that nobody else would ever fathom. Even you somehow couldn’t comprehend how or why he drove you so crazy. You only knew you would do unspeakable things to please your boyfriend and sucking him off in the woods was far from the most bizarre thing on the list of shit you were willing to do. 

You made eye contact with a traumatized rabbit for a whole second and it was all you could do to keep yourself from laughing and spoiling the mood. You gripped the base of Haechan’s cock, sucking him and stroking him all the while. 

None of this should’ve had you dripping the way it did, but you could feel yourself only getting even wetter. You gagged a couple of times (with his size, it was inevitable) but never stopped, a sting of tears in your eyes forming out of twisted pleasure. 

Haechan liked looking down and seeing you on your knees way too much, his dick in your mouth and your tear-stained face glancing back up at him. Fuck, you knew what it did to him when you looked at him like that. 

Like a pretty little thing warped completely by him. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Haechan said, tugging your hair. You hissed, but as he once said, there was no pleasure without pain. Nowhere did you say you didn’t get a thrill out of the sting. “Shit, baby. Are you gonna take it?”

You bobbed your head, humming around him and having a laugh smothered when he promptly made a noise of pleasure. He always wanted to last longer, but you made short work of him. A weakness if he knew one. 

Noting that he was close to his peak, you pulled out all the stops to bring him to sweet release as quickly as possible. You loved witnessing your boyfriend disentangle, loved when he was running on empty without an inch of self-control. Haechan was at his worst here, rutting against your mouth to meet your pace with a roughness that never ceased to make you gag. 

He was fucking your throat nice and hard, pulling your hair to use as he so pleased until the pleasure became so great that he couldn’t hold back anymore, a wave of warm cum painting your tongue. He never stopped fucking your mouth until his orgasm passed completely, high-pitched moans making you pulse rapidly. You swallowed as much as you could, not wanting to dirty your clothes and leave evidence of your lewd behavior. 

Haechan pulled out eventually, chest undulating as he recovered from his orgasm, though he never forgot to ask, “You good?”

You nodded, wiping saliva from your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“I hope you’re ready to get fucked,” Haechan said, helping you to your feet. Which made you snicker. If fucking in the woods was crazy, you were both out of your goddamn mind in love. 

You moaned when Haechan kissed you again and you grabbed his cock in your palms, stroking him hard anew all the while. The longer you waited, the less you could ignore the fire igniting between your thighs that ached to be taken care of. 

Haechan shoved you against the tree after a while and didn’t bother to slide your panties down, only slipping them to the side, courtesy of your skirt. Your palms dug into rough bark and he instead cuffed your wrists in his own hand, tightening them at your backside. He steered his cock to your entrance with the other, your arousal making it all too easy to skid right inside. 

Your moans were instantaneous. Haechan stroked deeper and deeper until every inch was utterly nested inside your sweet cunt, his cock disappearing inside. He took pleasure in stretching you open, because even after fucking you time and time again, your cunt never seemed to get any less tight. He always had to coax his way inside, no matter how wet you were. 

“Haechan,” you stammered, mouth hanging wide open with moans of his name. 

As much as he liked hearing you moan his name, Haechan clamped his palm over your mouth, smothering your sounds while still keeping your arms locked behind your back. 

Though you and your boyfriend had admittedly had sex in a number of places, some debatably strange, the middle of the haunted woods undoubtedly took the cake. The view was nice. You had to admit that it was somewhat romantic being fucked by your boyfriend against a tree while staring at an array of vibrant plants and pretty skies. And being out in the open aroused you a little more than it should have. 

Your body shuddered when he released your wrists to cup a palmful of your breasts, slipping his hand beneath your shirt and his finger kneading your nipple. “You’re so beautiful like this,” Haechan exhaled. Even now, he sometimes struggled to comprehend that he could call someone as beautiful as you were his, but he would be damned if he let anyone snatch away his girl. 

You listened contentedly to the sound of Haechan’s low groans of pleasure and sticks being crumbled beneath your toes as he pounded into you roughly, your fingernails finding purchase in the tree’s gnarled surface. All you could do was whimper, rooted in place and left to take all he gave you. 

Haechan hit a deep spot and you cried into his palm, a weakness making your head spin with dizziness. He simply had a power over you, goddamn it. Your body could never get enough, a depthless well of lust and arousal in the face of your boyfriend. 

As if he could hear whatever your muffled voice said in the crook of his palm, Haechan’s pace quickened, fucking you tirelessly with a passion that could never be sated. You wallowed in the sound of his hips slamming into yours with a sharp, wet slap. There was no denying what was happening if anyone made the unfortunate mistake of walking by.

Fortunately, your only company were harmless animals and possibly a couple of wandering ghosts. 

The harder you were fucked, the harder it was to stand on your own. Haechan took and took from your body but left a crushing kind of pleasure that rendered you weak and another indescribable feeling, smothering you with the unknown sensation. But instead of fear, it aroused a dangerous curiosity within you. 

“So good for me,” Haechan moaned, draping his lips over your already mark-stained neck. Your entire body was nearly coated in dark bruises ensuing after a long session of fucking and sucking and love-making. “You always gotta feel so damn good.”

His palm slacked on your mouth and you whimpered, “Baby, too much.”

Haechan slowed himself for a second and asked, “Do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head and ironically whimpered at his slower pace. God, no. You wanted Haechan to fuck you numb. 

He snickered and picked back up his quickened rhythm. “That’s my girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “Take it for me, baby.”

Never had your body ever felt so stimulated and alive, every muscle taut with pleasure. It was a lot, but you took it like a champ, loving the way your boyfriend’s thick girth filled you up, hard and stiff. Fire set you ablaze, heat igniting at the vortex of your thighs and shooting through you like a bundle of fireworks. You were smothered by heat, scorching all over. 

Your bodies were on autopilot, sweat beading at the surface of your skin and making your clothes adhere. You were sticky with sweat and arousal and eventually bits of Haechan’s cum, the part you were most excited for. The thought of your boyfriend emptying his balls into you alone was more than enough to make your walls clamp around his cock, wanting to literally milk him dry. You moaned in anticipation. 

“Want you to cum,” you whimpered, body thumped forward with every heavy thrust inside you. “Baby, please. I wanna make you cum.”

Haechan bit his lip when he heard you beg. Why did you have to be so damn sexy? It was the perfect way to bring him over the edge. “Gotta take care of my girl first, baby,” he whispered sweetly in your ear. 

As soon as those words escaped his mouth, you finally noticed how close you were, body under pressure and ready to snap. You could hardly even stand upright on your own, knees very liable to giving in (and more sore than you could notice over numbing pleasure). You were prepared to be broken beyond reclaim. 

“Baby, I…”

“I know,” Haechan shushed you with a sweet peck to your cheek. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m right here. Let go.”

That was all you needed to hear before you couldn’t fight release anymore and it toppled over, draping over you in totality. You came so hard that tears began to well from your eyes, your hands desperately clinging to the tree bark, bruises ready to form all over. Haechan brought his palm back over your mouth quick enough to smother a prolonged, sated scream. 

He whispered praises in your ear even your body slackened, limp against the tree but still letting him use you as needed. You were trembling with anticipation, restless as you waited for him to fill you to the brim. “Baby, please,” you begged. “Fill me up. Fill me up...,”

Haechan developed a ruthless pace now, absorbed in your desperate chants and the way your pussy pulsed around his cock, endeavoring to trigger his climax. He was tangled in the heat of you, dangerously close and gripping your hips so harshly you whined, “Fuck,” into his palm. 

Soon enough, listening to the sound of your sweet voice and muffled cries got the best of him and Haechan’s hips stilled inside, cock twitching with orgasm and promptly releasing hotly inside you. He gave a long hiss while you sighed pleasantly, satisfied at long last. 

Your boyfriend cleaned you up while you rested against the tree, feeling lightheaded. He ensured your skirt was in place and brushed off tiny specks of dirt that had clung to your knees. Haechan, as always, was restless, but you were still trying to catch your breath from the hell of a nut that he had only now given you. 

And you could feel his release still warm between your thighs, caught in your panties. 

You were as fucked out as you looked and he wallowed in the darkly arousing sight of you, evidence of what happened etched across your face no matter the length you went to hide. 

Haechan fought a sly grin and asked, “Ready?” 

You nodded. But when you went to walk, you reeled. Tomorrow was Sunday and that morning you would be kissing these woods goodbye, but you had a feeling your boyfriend would leave you too sore to work come Monday. 

Not that you were complaining. You could only wonder if that was part of his master plan. 

“Disgusting,” Winter sneered lightheartedly when she noticed you limping back to the campground. 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. I’m sure you and Jaehyun gave the boys a lot to raise hell about while we were gone.” 

Jaehyun, directly beside his girlfriend, pulled her into his arms and said, “Hey, it’s not my baby’s fault she’s loud.”

Winter hummed in agreement. “Right. It’s his.”

“Who’s disgusting now,” you remarked with a playful grimace. 

Haechan - for once in his entire life - was silent, too focused on helping you to a shower. He only chuckled a little and ushered you away to take good care of you.

You felt a hell of a lot more refreshed once you cleaned up and had a change of clothes, though ironically energetic. When in need of a nap, Haechan  fucking the shit out of you plus a nice bath usually did the trick (although the bathroom luxuries were limited outdoors), but somehow you were given a burst of energy. 

Though not too long ago you were spooked by what lay in hiding in these woods, there was now a rain cloud of dread and sadness hanging over you when you realized this trip would be ending all too soon. You were having way too much fun in the company of your friends and boyfriend. The last thing you wanted was for it to end.

This place was growing on you. And now that it had, it was almost time to leave. The goddamn irony. 

You stepped outside. Jaehyun and your boyfriend were firing up the grill and Yuta was talking to a squirrel (you would rather not ask), meanwhile Winter was strangely nowhere to be seen. But Ten was at the empty campfire, spectacles sitting on the bridge of his nose as he flipped pages of a rather thick novel. 

You chuckled. It was almost endearing. Some things never changed. 

Your contemplative face was on. The conversation would have to be had one way or another. That much you knew. Your options were clear, though dull. Either address the elephant in the room, or create a rift in your relationship with willful ignorance. 

So, you hauled ass right over to that campfire. 

Ten was startled by your sudden presence and given the circumstances, he was prepared to give someone an earful over the unannounced interruption, but swiftly silenced himself when he noticed it was you who’d come to his side. 

You winced when you noticed his jumpy reaction. “Sorry. Did I scare you?” 

“No,” Ten lied and put his book face down. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to talk.”

That kindled his interest. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you replied nonchalantly. “What are you reading?”

“This book about the cycle of darkness and light. It’s in German. It’s about how the light replenishes what the darkness steals, but the darkness will always undo it again regardless.”

That genuinely piqued your curiosity. “Sounds deep.”

“Oh, yes. There are plenty of figurative details about hope and hiding your quote-unquote darkness to other people. The author likens human beings to the moon. We all have a dark side, but other people only see the lit part of us,” Ten said, and you beamed at his enthusiasm. “The part we want them to see.”

You leaned over to notice the novel was indeed in German. And impressed that he could comprehend it nonetheless. “Do you have a hidden dark side?”

“‘We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others, that in the end, we become disguised to ourselves.’”

“François de La Rochefoucauld,” you replied, recognizing the quote. 

Ten stared at you, wide-eyed. “You know?” 

You nodded with a smile. “He also said, ‘true love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.’”

Ten went dangerously silent and you knew you’d struck a sore spot, but you weren’t done applying pressure. 

You continued, “You’re a really good friend, Ten. And a great guy.”

“Don’t.” 

You cocked your head. “Don’t do what?” 

“Don’t be nice! Don’t be you,” Ten whispered frustratedly, standing to his feet. Which you did suit. “Do you know you’re the only person in this world who’s never laughed at me?”

It was your turn to be quiet now. Tension had a heavy hand clamped over your mouth. 

“You’ve never mocked me. Never made fun of me. The only time you’ve made me feel less than someone else is when you and Haechan got together. Even then, none of it was your fault.”

Grabbing his hand, you crooned, “I’m sorry.” 

That only exasperated Ten even more and he swatted your hand away, though careful not to hurt you, and hurriedly scooped his things into his arms. “Just stop. Don’t let me down gently. You’ll only make it harder on me.”

Ten stormed off before you could get another word in and you merely stood there, riveted in place. You glanced around and were relieved that nobody seemed to notice, but a sour sensation broiled in your gut as you wondered if you’d only rubbed salt in all the wrong wounds. 

For fuck’s sake. Maybe it would have been a better idea to wait until you’d left the campground. At least then you wouldn’t have potentially ruined his whole trip. 

Jaehyun passed out hotdogs as they were coming off the grill and everyone gathered together for an early dinner, but Ten was still nowhere to be seen. Yuta came to their shared cabin and offered him food, but he denied it, sulking all alone. 

“I mean, shit. What did you do to him?” Yuta asked you once he returned. 

You gave him a hard glare and ignored the question. “You guys should be nicer to Ten. He’s a little sensitive right now,” you scolded, then turned to face your boyfriend who was sitting directly next to you. “You, too.”

Haechan threw his hands up. “Yes, ma’am.”

You gave a prolonged exhale. It was no secret Ten had a mean crush on you, though you had denied it for as long as possible. Now that you’d confronted the issue at hand, it blew up in your face. For that reason, there was another unsettling feeling coming alive in the pit of your stomach, making your skin crawl. 

But this time, you knew why. Ironically, you couldn’t tell if that was worse. 

Nothing else was seemingly out of place and the evening carried on as usual, but you were definitely on edge. The shorter days meant an earlier sunset and by the time the sky dimmed pitch-black, most of the others had retreated to their respective cabins, in favor of escaping the approaching threat of bloodthirsty mosquitoes. 

Except for you and your boyfriend, who approached you carrying two glasses of champagne and handing you one.

You accepted the glass and gave him a look. “And what are we celebrating?”

“Making it through the weekend. Alive,” Haechan joked, taking a seat next to you. 

“Mm. You know what champagne does to me.”

He nodded, like that was the whole point. “Yeah. I expect your hands to be all over me in five minutes tops.”

You snickered and sipped from your glass quietly. Haechan placed a cool hand on your thigh, a stark contrast from the raging heat of the campfire crackling merely inches away from you. The sensation was very welcome. 

There was no one around save for you, your boyfriend, and a large number of still trees. Haechan was usually full of conversation, but he was too preoccupied in drawing circles on your bare thighs, caught in how much he loved them. You smiled slyly. The feeling was mutual. Your boyfriend had some thick ass thighs.

Then, your thoughts were dark, and you frowned at the reminder of the terrible dread reeling like a vortex in your belly. “Ten likes me.”

“No offense, baby. But I think you were the last person to figure that out.”

You frowned. “I think I always knew, but I didn’t want to accept it. Because I value the friendship him and I have and I didn’t want that bond to be broken. I still can’t really believe he has feelings for me.”

“I don’t see what’s so surprising,” Haechan said, glancing up from your thighs to look you plain in the eye. “You’re a likable person, babe. I say the guy has taste. Too bad you’re already mine.”

Your lover more or less played compassionate, but you could tell he didn’t actually feel too bad about the situation. Or much of anything for that matter. Funnily enough, that kindled a kind of uncertainty in you. “Doesn’t it make you angry?” you asked curiously, threading your fingers through his bright head of hair.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why would it? I already know you’re all mine,” Haechan reasoned. “I don’t need any affirmation because I know I own your mind, body, and soul. It’s like I have you under a spell.”

Maybe the champagne had you under a spell, because you swore he looked even better than normal, skin glimmering courtesy of the crackling fire. You could see an identical inferno irate in his pretty brown eyes, blood-hungry and spiraling alarmingly out of control. You knew damn well you were playing with fire, but for whatever reason, you were dangerously in love with the burn. 

Your lover’s lips attacked you and you submitted to his touch, within the firing line of danger. Your hands found his body promptly, desperate for warmth, and Haechan smirked because he had predicted as much. 

He could never scare you. The more you uncovered about him, the deeper you fell into some depthless pile of doom. 

Haechan coiled one arm around your backside while the other skirted between your thighs, grabbing a feel of your clothed arousal. You moaned, already getting wetter. “You do realize this is our third time today alone?” 

“What can I say? I’m addicted to you,” Haechan said, kneading between your thighs and watching your lips fall with a pleased exhale. 

You kept touching and sucking each other until Haechan inevitably got a little too riled up hearing your sweet moans and gently pressed you against the thick log, a blanket already draped above. Strangely, time seemed to move slower, like the whole world was frozen over and there was no one else there. Nobody to interrupt your reckless fun. 

A tinge of heat blossomed inside your chest, rapidly spreading elsewhere when your boyfriend plucked your shirt and bra and started to kiss his way down your breasts. You clasped your palms on his shoulders, soft little sighs still doing a number on him as he nibbled at your flesh, cock growing harder. 

Just thinking about all the many times Haechan fucked you into oblivion had you in a drunken stupor and you begged demurely, “Please, baby.” There was nothing you weren’t willing to do if it meant he would stop drawing out the inevitable, no matter how good his kisses were. 

Haechan swore loudly and shoved a hand down your shorts, breaking the barriers and feeling your arousal coating his fingers. Did you always have to be so impatient and wet? Your head tipped back with a moan, body arching against his touch. 

You whimpered in surprise when Haechan brought you to a stand to sweep the blanket over the grassy ground and again when he pulled you to the surface, grabbing your shorts by the band and promptly tossing them aside. Haechan made sure you were far away enough from the fire not to be a safety hazard, but close enough for light and warmth. 

Not that you need very much of the latter. Your boyfriend touching you kindled sparks in your body hot enough to make you sweat all over. 

Your boyfriend hungrily stripped you both of your underwear and then lined his hard cock at your entrance, slippery with your own slick. In your mind, an eternity seemed to pass before he winded inside, and you clung tightly to your breath before you lost it forever. 

Haechan leaned below all the while, leaving a trail of sweet kisses up your stomach. You moaned loudly, arching into his touch, somehow feeling an elated sense of pleasure. You were blatantly more aware of his cock pressed deeply into your vice-like cunt, and your legs locked around his hips, pulling him even deeper. 

There was something new. Drunk sex with your boyfriend was always fun, but it wasn’t this. It was sloppier. It was teeth accidentally clashing and giggling into each other’s mouths. 

None of that was happening. Instead, every sensation was a million times more unrestrained and for a second you wondered if you were making it all up in your head or if your boyfriend was simply that good at pleasuring you. 

The thought disappeared as quickly as it had come, because you were too distracted by Haechan’s warm breath on your neck, tickling the flesh as he whispered a bunch of sweet nothings into your ear, full aware that it would bring you over the edge. You felt like a mad woman, unsure of anything and everything except for how perfect it felt to be in your boyfriend’s arms. 

“You feel so good,” Haechan moaned into your ear, and if you hadn’t already spiraled out of control, you sure as hell had now. 

“Fuck. God, Haechan,” you whimpered, too overwhelmed. How in the hell could he feel so good? Every inch of you was sensitive, but every sensation was heightened. “I fucking love this.”

You were half-tempted to pinch yourself to determine if you were lucid dreaming, but then Haechan dug his sharp nails into your hips and you instantly knew there was no denying you were very awake. 

Haechan poorly stifled a snicker and watched the bounce of your breasts as he stroked deeper and deeper. A wavering orange hue casted over your body and highlighted the irrefutable evidence of pleasure on your pretty face, courtesy of the campfire. 

Lord have mercy, you were beautiful. Nothing made him prouder than being able to call you his girl. No woman before you had ever left him so love-struck, so downright in love. You made him crazy in a way that he would never fathom, but what he did know was that he was in over his head and not even death could part you. 

A thought crossed your mind and incited a lustful greed within you, and you grabbed Haechan’s bicep, whimpering, “Haechan, stop.” 

That pulled him out of his little pleasure-induced stupor and Haechan ground to a halt, quickly scanning your face for any sign of discomfort he might’ve missed in his trance. Needless to say, he came short of answers.

“I wanna be on top,” you explained, making him pull out and lay beneath you now. “Just sit back and relax.”

Haechan submitted to you because for fuck’s sake, he was out of his mind in love with you, and whatever you wanted he would give you. You could cry for the moon and he would steal it for you. No questions asked. 

You switched positions to straddle his body, reaching for his cock and steering him to your entrance. Haechan moaned when he was fitted back inside, and your hands slipped to his chest as you eyed him, having the perfect view of his face tensing with pleasure of all kinds. 

Had you not been interrupted by a moan, you would have giggled. Your fingers pranced around his sensitive nipples and Haechan called out your name, palms seeking anchorage at your ass. You were both obviously driving each other insane, in a war to see who could take the other off their hinges. 

Haechan watched you bounce on his cock and it was the most beautiful sight in the world to him. Your mouth parted with blissful sighs and soft moans, your bodies an amalgam of sticky coats of sweat and hotness. 

“I love you,” Haechan blurted through ragged breath, but goddamn was it true. 

“I love you, too,” you moaned in the midst of fucking yourself on a very hard dick.  And trying not to lose what was left of you. “Shit. Holy fuck.” 

Haechan involuntarily thrusted up to meet your motions, matching your quick tempo. You could feel and hear the blood pumping rhythmically in your head, your pulse thudding. Each of your breaths were quick, like you could hardly breathe through the thick tension of pent-up love and desire between you. 

You simply couldn’t stop, couldn’t get enough of the feeling. You couldn’t fathom why it was so goddamn good. Even Haechan had to notice you were riding him harder than usual, chasing satisfaction with a craving that could never be satiated. You felt like an animal, wondering what it was that made him feel even better than you thought possible. 

Every insignificant detail was zeroed in on. Did he always have those little scratches on him? And had you been the reason? Your eyes fell up his neck and down his torso and you bit your lip smugly, noticing all the marks you’d left behind.  

“Baby, I’m so close,” you whimpered, rocking harder. 

“Come on, baby. You’re so beautiful,” Haechan groaned, close and throttled by the tension. You were closing in on him, wrapping around him so tightly and driving him to climax. 

The muscles in your thighs tightened and slackened, and you bounced to the rhythm of the pulsing between your legs. Haechan reached for your hand and laced his fingers through yours, wanting to be thoroughly connected with you through every moment of your orgasm. 

He uncontrollably rambled some more praises in your ears about how good you felt and how beautiful you were, and you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, teeth clamping into your bottom lip to stifle a loud cry and way too immersed in pleasure to notice the pain. Your throbbing cunt and smothered cries prompted Haechan and he released inside, still fucking you back until he rested with a long exhale. 

Your body went limp, crashing at his side. Looking at the sky, you could see stars, but when you closed them, they were still there. 

Haechan immediately started to kiss you and you kissed back, tasting ecstasy on his lips. Your boyfriend cradled your body, whispering, “You did so good. I’m so proud of you.”

You remembered giving a soft little sigh of pleasure and Haechan taking the liberty of redressing you.

Everything after that was a blur. 

When you woke up, the sky was still perpetually dark, but you were in bed. You turned to your side and came to the eerie conclusion that you were very alone. Haechan was nowhere to be found. 

Maybe he’s just using the restroom, you reasoned. Yeah, okay. That happened. For your comfort, you decided to wait up until he returned. 

Half an hour later, Haechan was still a no-show. That was when you began to suspect there was something far more sinister at hand than a visit to the bathroom. You crawled from under the sheets and slipped on your shoes, determined to investigate the matter yourself. 

There was a pounding in your chest. Where could Haechan have disappeared to for thirty minutes in the middle of the night?

Except for anywhere. He could be anywhere in these goddamn woods and you would never find even a trace of him. A cool dread plagued your body and you wrapped your arms around yourself, praying your boyfriend was somewhere safe. You had a strange gut feeling that something heinous had happened and it was all around you, suffocating. 

You crept outdoors and oddly enough, noticed Yuta seated at the campfire. You remembered making love to Haechan there, because the memory was still fresh. For some reason, it felt like moments yet days ago altogether. 

Why was it still lit at this hour? More significantly, what was Yuta doing there so late? 

“Yuta?” you called out. 

No reply. He was stiff as a boulder. You approached him stealthily, wanting to believe he was only playing an evil trick on you. 

When you could finally get a front view of him, you cried out in a blend of surprise and terror. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the gruesome sight of Yuta’s lifeless body. You shrieked and screamed until your voice could barely muster a murmur. For a good while, you only stood there, muscles stiff with shock. Tears silently began to drip as they gathered at your eyelashes. 

You forced your eyes away from Yuta. His face had been burned so badly that you could hardly recognize him. The skin was disfigured with marks, wrinkly and apparently rotten. You noticed the purple lines around his wrists and his slashed throat and hoped he hadn’t been burned alive. 

You refused to look at him, refused to touch him. You cowered away, repulsed by the consuming stench of blood clogging your senses. Feeling nauseous, you turned over and knocked over two near-full wine glasses in your wake, bending your knees. It made you want to throw up. 

This could not be happening. You rubbed your eyes, like there was a chance sleep and your tears were making you delirious. A bitter taste parched your tongue as you prayed this was only a ghastly dream. You would not accept this as reality. You didn’t want to believe Yuta was - completely and irrevocably  - gone.

But regardless of how hard you tried, your body scorned you, refusing to wake up.

This was a living nightmare. 

For some strange reason, there was a canoe approaching the shoreline and you made a beeline for the lake, too blinded by your need for answers to pause and ask yourself why there was somebody paddling at this hour.

“Haechan?” you called out shakily. 

Nothing. Where could he have gone? The night was far too dark for you to piece together who was on the canoe. Which was unnerving.

Dread hit you tenfold when it dawned on you that Haechan could have been anywhere, slain and blood-splattered like how you discovered Yuta. 

Tears made your eyes burn. There was no way in hell your boyfriend was dead. But none of that explained what happened to Yuta. And were the rest of your friends okay?

Why did nobody hear you scream? 

The growing questions only made you tremble with mystification. You couldn’t for the life of you comprehend why anybody would want to do something so unspeakable to Yuta. He had been nothing but an incredible friend to you for years and a wonder to everyone he met. 

Anger briefly numbered you to your fear. Yuta didn’t deserve to die. Not in such a cold-hearted, brutal manner. Nobody did. The look on his face when you found his body was permanently etched into your memory. He had been burned beyond recognition. The damage was irreversible. Even if he somehow survived the burns, there was no way to undo the distortion. 

Your heart had never been so heavy. There was a possibility the wound to his neck killed him, but there was also a fair chance it only damaged him enough to render him unheard. 

What if Yuta tried to scream, but nobody heard him, either? 

You should have known coming to this haunted city was a fatal mistake. The rumors of people slaughtered in Chimera should have been more than enough to dissuade you, but you each were too goddamn stubborn.

Look what that had gotten you. A dead friend, a missing boyfriend, and an uncertain status on the rest of your number. 

The uncertainty about the rest of your friends only made you even sadder. Had they somehow slept through Yuta’s death, too? Or were they victims to a similar fate? 

No. That couldn’t be the case. Because if it was, then why had you been left untouched?

Surely, there were no goddamn miracles in this godforsaken place. 

You wracked your brain trying to remember what happened. For some reason, everything was fuzzy and disoriented. You recalled the whole day up to a point. Haechan and you fooled around in bed until you finally roused. Then, you had breakfast. The boys went canoeing. You went to annoy Winter with your paranoia.

The boys came back and you went on a hike with Haechan only to fool around some more. Then, you returned, took a shower, the boys fired up the grill and you had a conversation with Ten. He froze you out and stormed into his cabin for the night.

Everyone ate dinner without him, they eventually left, and you spent the night fooling around with Haechan under the moonlight. 

Then, everything else went black. You didn’t remember getting into bed with Haechan, but you assumed he carried you there. Your eyes got too heavy after orgasm and you seemingly passed out. 

That was strange. And maybe too much of a coincidence. But Haechan would never do anything to hurt you. Would he? 

Don’t be silly, you chided. Haechan loves you and he’s fucking missing right now. Instead of questioning him, you should be trying to find him before it’s too late. 

You didn’t even let yourself wonder if it already was too late. Haechan was not dead. Anyone could leave you, but not him. Not the boy who promised you forever and then some. 

Haechan was the common denominator, but Ten was the missing piece. You hadn’t seen him since you tried to turn him down gently and there was no telling if he ever came out the cabin since. He may have been in his feelings, but no anger could prompt him to do this. You were certain. 

You were certain about all of them. But if not them, then who did that leave? A ghost? 

Your heart raced quicker than ever before as you bolted to the lake, and you halted dead in your tracks when your feet landed right at its murky edge. The sky was still too dark for you to make out the body on the canoe. You squinted, but you couldn’t even see a body at all. 

Tall, thick trees covered the border of the lake. Moonlight filtered through some of the branches, though unfortunately, it didn’t come close to illuminating the canoe. You glanced at the water and saw a pair of eyes staring back at you. 

And they weren’t your own. 

For a minute, you couldn’t move. You went stiffly rigid, attempting to convince your brain that this was only a figment of your delirious imagination. But the wide pair of eyes didn’t move. They didn’t even blink. 

Fear flooded back into your body, bleeding thickly out of you, and you lurched back with an eldritch scream. Everything happened so damn quickly. Your back hit the trunk of a tree and the branches rattled. A body plummeted violently into the cool water, but you didn’t register the splash, veins pumping icy dread instead of warm blood. 

You didn’t investigate, slumping against the tree and pulling your knees to your bosom. You cried hot tears, because you recognized those eyes. They were the same ones you always caught staring at you. They were the same ones that looked at you with hurt and heartbreak the last time you’d seen them. 

Now, they looked at you with lifelessness. And they unmistakably belonged to Ten. 

“I’m sorry,” you cried, as if he could hear you. “I should have left it alone. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to make things worse.” 

There was no word to describe the depth and darkness of the feeling that plagued you now. You shuddered, an imagined nipping wind numbing you beyond the surface and to the very fucking core. It was brutal and ruthless. 

Every inch of your body was bitter with pain. You were so dizzy with shock and consternation that you couldn’t even stand. Your head ached from crying so damn much. 

You felt like you had done this to Ten. He was even harder to move on from. Your last memories were anything but happy and you could only picture the ache and longing absorbing his features, the hurt crushing the impact of his voice. 

Nothing made sense to you. Ten fell for your gentleness, but resented you for letting him down gently. You wanted to understand him. You wanted to make things better, but you failed and now you would have to live with that mistake forever. Because it was too late to undo. 

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” you croaked quietly, voice absent. “Now, I’ll never be able to. Please forgive me.”

Every breath you took was pained. You could barely speak without your voice cracking. There was no welcoming feeling. Especially not the self-loathing that swallowed you whole and throttled you. Everything you felt was cold and lingering, dark and unfurling. 

You must have spent an eternity sitting there sobbing your heart out, mourning your dead friend, because you only stood to your feet when you heard the sound of something meeting the shoreline. 

 The canoe. You had forgotten all about the damn thing and frowned when you saw nobody. You walked over and had your blood already not been icy, it would have run cold. 

Jaehyun laid sprawled across the canoe, completely soaked, like he had toppled over into the lake. 

“Jay,” you gasped, shocked. This whole time you had been calling out for a dead body. He was ghostly pale, hair stuck to his skin. 

You made the decision to reach over, careful not to rock the canoe too much in case you tripped over, and felt for a pulse. Even a weak one. Anything that proved he wasn’t gone. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Jaehyun was ruthlessly still. His body was like ice and in your head, a temperature of a negative degree. You accidentally left a bloody print on his arm, recouping your hand when you begrudgingly accepted he was no longer breathing and there was no chance of him ever doing so again, and crept back over to the shore. 

Just when you thought you had no more tears left to cry, they fell again, mocking you. You could dimly see your reflection, your tear-stained face a complete mess. 

That was the third dead body. With each one, you loss more and more faith that any of your friends were okay. 

But there was still Haechan and Winter. 

That made you confused. Jaehyun would never leave Winter by herself. Especially not in the middle of the night in dark, haunted woods. How in the hell did he get on a canoe by himself? 

The whole reason Jaehyun even came on this trip was to protect her in case this place turned out to actually be haunted. Was Winter okay? Jaehyun would never let anyone harm her, if there was anything he could do. They would have to get through him before they got to her. 

Maybe they did get through him. 

Rage warmed you and gave you life again. Whoever did this would pay. You would find them and seek sweet revenge. But first, you needed to confirm whether or not your boyfriend and your best friend were alive. 

Now that you thought about it, Haechan would never leave you alone, either. It simply wasn’t in his nature and didn’t make sense. Not even a little bit. 

When presented with a perceived danger, Haechan’s first instinct was to grab you and keep you sheltered in his arms. When you were frightened for your life, Haechan never failed to soothe you, promising you he would go through hell and back to keep you safe. 

That wouldn’t change all of the sudden. He was no coward. Now, your heart hurt, wondering if he had given himself up to protect you too. 

You turned around and made a beeline for Winter and Jaehyun’s cabin. You needed to find her. You needed to know she was okay. Together, you could get the hell out of here, but not before you found your boyfriend also. 

The campground was the same as you’d left, still as lifeless as before with Yuta’s corpse by the campfire, and you weren’t too sure how that made you feel. You darted to the right, immediately charging straight towards your best friend’s cabin. 

There were no lights on. The only source of light was the campfire burning in the center. It gave you hope that Winter may have been sleeping peacefully, oblivious to all that happened. 

But unlike you, Winter was a light sleeper. Wouldn’t she have noticed Jaehyun crawling out of bed or something? 

You frowned. You didn’t know what happened. Jaehyun could have sensed danger outside and went to investigate. He could have kissed her forehead and urged her to go to sleep. 

You shook your head and slowly opened the door, ignorant of the blood print you’d left on the knob, pulse speeding at the eerie sound of it pushing open. The darkness made you wary. You couldn’t even be sure if she was on the bed. 

For assistance, you turned on the light, and breathed a little in relief when you noticed a figure slumped under the sheets. But why was her head below the comforter? Winter never slept like that. Something about it being too hot and too hard to breathe. 

The relief you felt was short-lived. Dread returned and you inhaled and exhaled deeply. A part of you didn’t want to know if your best friend was dead or not. But she was too still. Like she wasn’t even breathing under the covers. 

You plucked the cover off her face and trembled. There was fresh blood on her chin, rolling down her lips. And a fork in her left hand. And you had a sneaking suspicion that you knew why. 

Gently, you opened her mouth, and when you saw that a piece of her tongue was no longer there you had a painful moment of realization. 

Your heart broke. It didn’t split down the middle, but broke into millions of pieces. Winter was dead. But you knew damn well Haechan was still out there somewhere, good and well. 

You grabbed Winter’s lifeless body in your arms and cried into her shoulder, oddly comforted by the fact her body was still warm. Everything made sense now. This was all your fault. 

Nothing was a coincidence. Winter frightened you and made you bite your tongue. Then, you found her with a fork in her hand, a piece of her tongue removed. Yuta gave you his marshmallow when you burned yours. Then, you found him with his face burned without a lick of mercy. 

Ten always stared at you. He was always watching. He looked at you with a kind of adoration in his eyes. You found him staring into his own reflection, body slumped on a tree. 

And Jaehyun offered to take you on a canoe ride with the guys. You found him sprawled across that very same canoe. 

“I did this to you,” you sobbed, grabbing her hand. You bristled when you noticed blood on her fingernails, knowing it wasn’t her. Winter fought to protect her damn self. 

And you knew who attacked her. 

You were so overwhelmed. You had never felt this many emotions at once before. Especially not this intensely. You were wounded and betrayed. Angry and regretful. Frightened and loathing. 

For a moment, you only cried in Winter’s warmth, holding her hand and blaming yourself for everything. You begged her to wake up. You begged her to smile and tap your arm, screaming, “Just kidding!” 

This had to be a prank. This had to be some cruel joke that you were the butt of, a trick at your expense. You wanted everyone to open the door one by one and laugh at you for falling for such a stupid scheme, but you knew in your heart it wasn’t true. 

You saw the very real marks on Yuta’s face. You saw the lifelessness in Ten’s eyes. You felt Jaehyun’s non-existent pulse. Even now, you could feel the warmth slowly leaving Winter’s body. 

Eventually you pulled away, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. You saw the blood on the sheets and frowned. That hadn’t been there before. Only then did you notice the blood dampening your clothes. 

How long had that been there? Was it from one of the bodies? 

No, because I only touched Jaehyun. And he clearly drowned, you thought. But pushed the thought of Jaehyun’s drenched body out of your head as quickly as it came. 

There were more pressing matters at hand. You needed to get the hell out of here. And you needed to do so alive. Someone had to be the bearer of bad news. Someone had to tell your friends’ parents that their worst nightmare had come true. 

You found the courage to leave your best friend there and crept outside the cabin. Your phone was in Ten’s and Yuta’s. Goddamn it. 

The sight of Haechan emerging from the woods made you grind to a halt. You were scared for your goddamn life. You had no idea what your chances of survival were, but you got it now. Why you had been spared from your friend’s fate. 

The Haechan you loved was not the man staring at you from afar. The Haechan you’d come to know was not the man approaching you. He was somebody else. Somebody you were not familiar with and did not know how to handle. 

Adrenaline thumped in your head. You had a choice. You could flee or you could fight. 

For now, you decided to play dumb. 

“Baby,” you called out, colliding into his cold arms. “Everybody’s dead! Are you okay? What happened to you?”

Haechan stared at you unrecognizably. You knew you were looking danger dead in the eye. There was no warmth in him, no life. He had blood stains on his clothes and scratches on his face. 

From Winter, you bristled inwardly. You banished the thought, knowing your cover would be blown the longer you thought about how he had preyed down your friends. 

Haechan coiled an arm around you and said simply, “It’s not my blood.” 

“Not your blood?” you repeated slowly, pulling yourself away. “Then, whose blood is it?” 

Your boyfriend only smiled. “I think you know the answer to that, sweetheart,” he said sweetly, but you knew only venom was inside him. 

You wanted to scream. There was no deceiving him. You could tell he already knew. Haechan read you like an open book and you knew he would never not have you all figured out. 

Giving up deception, you cried, “Why?” 

“Because you’re mine,” he explained with a gentleness to his tone, approaching you despite picking up on how adamant you were on keeping him at arm’s length. “Don’t you see? Everybody wants to keep us apart. We can be alone now.” 

“Haechan, nobody was keeping us apart,” you said, unable to justify his actions. 

“Yes, they were,” Haechan argued. “Like the old geezer at your job. He worked you too much and paid you too little. I was doing you a favor.” 

You paused as you processed his words. He was talking about your boss. The same boss that mysteriously died a couple of weeks back. You put the pieces together. 

You gasped, “You killed him?”

Haechan scoffed. “Don’t give me that look. I know you hated the guy. I remember the smile on your face when you told me your boss was dead.” 

“Yuta, Ten, Winter, and Jaehyun weren’t keeping us away from each other,” you hissed, using rage as your fuel and hatred as your anchor. “They did nothing to us.” 

“They were nuisances. You spent too much time with them. You’re better off without them anyway, baby. Winter hurt you and laughed in your face. I mean, what kind of best friend does that? Of course, I had to eliminate the bigger threat before I got to her.” 

The bigger threat was Jaehyun. He would go to the ends of the earth for Winter and you could tell from the moment he was introduced to you. You gave him the golden stamp of approval for a reason. 

Jaehyun would protect Winter until he had nothing left to give. You had no idea how Haechan took him down, but at this point, you didn’t want to know. It made you well with pain. You hoped they met again in the afterlife and in the next one with a much kinder fate.  

Haechan continued, “Yuta was too comfortable. I didn’t like how he talked to you. He always got too close, leaning into you and shit. I had enough. And Ten definitely wanted to take you away from me. I know you saw how he looked at you.” 

The pressure in your heart was building. You couldn’t breathe. You needed a pulse. The whole world was upside down. “You said… you said it didn’t make you angry. You told me that you didn’t care about those kinds of things. I thought you were different.” 

“Don’t you dare compare me to them,” Haechan chided, stepping closer. You stumbled and he caught you in his heavy arms, not letting up even when you tried to swat him away. “I love you better than your exes ever did. They didn’t care for you, baby. They could never love you like I do. Nobody can.”

Struggling in his arms, you screamed in his face, “My exes didn’t kill all my fucking friends!” 

Haechan started to laugh. You gaped at him and his audacity. There was no kind of levity in this situation and yet he was humored. You knew now that your boyfriend was a goddamn psychopath. 

You managed to slip away from him by grace of his distractedness and barked, “What the hell is so funny?” 

Haechan explained through bursts of laughter, “Do you think I could have killed four people by myself? We did this together, baby. Just look at yourself.” 

You reluctantly did as told. That was when the blood on your clothes finally made sense and you started to feel dirtier than ever. Was your friends’ blood on your hands? That would explain the blood on Winter’s sheets. 

Unable to endure the pain, you dropped to your knees, losing the strength to stand. The blood was everywhere. It stained your palms. Now, conscious of its presence, you were hyper aware that you were covered in your friends blood and the feeling was akin to being dipped in acid. 

How could you have only now noticed? You were too frenzied searching for your friends, searching for a spark of life in this desolate city. 

You clung to denial, chanting through sobs, “No. No, no, no.”

“Shh,” Haechan sang, pulling you into his embrace gently. He had stopped laughing, but this was a man incapable of empathy. No matter how convincing he was. “We’re finally alone, sweetie. No one to steal you from me.”

You hated yourself for not loathing the way his body felt around yours. There was a big part of you that wanted to go back to a couple of hours ago, when you thought it was only him and you in this world, and you had no idea the traumatic experience you’d have only hours later. 

That made the world stop. You found peace for a split second before hell peeled the corners of your vision again. Your head rose up, and you looked Haechan in his empty, dark eyes. 

Had you imagined the spark there? No. You had to look deeper. There was a fire there, a web of temptation, desire, and viciousness. That was what you saw in him. It was passion, but you had mistaken it for a different kind. 

“Haechan?” you called out. 

Your boyfriend said pleasantly, “Yes, my dear?” 

“Did you put something in my champagne?”

“Yes.” 

At least he was honest. For once. 

“You spiked my drink,” you began, voice cracking. “Because you knew I would never agree to your sick ways in my right mind.” 

To your dismay, Haechan didn’t deny the accusation, only giving you a sickening smile and stroking your hair gently. Like your whole world wasn’t upside down now. He,  like this was some kind of joke, merely said, “Ahchoo.”

You bristled with a vicious wrath. Haechan was out of his goddamn mind. He didn’t give a single fuck about what he had done and frankly, you’d had enough of trying to converse. You needed to get out of here immediately and seek help. There was no way you would play along with his twisted delusion. 

A chimera. 

Your heart stopped when you once again came to the brutal realization that your phone was trapped in Yuta and Ten’s cabin. You knew Haechan would never let you get away with a phone call. If you could even make one. In the middle of nowhere, there was no such thing as Wi-Fi or service. 

Plus you were surrounded by acres of trees and water. Where the hell would you go? The main road would be too damn obvious even if you somehow managed to get there. And without a car, you were positively out of luck. 

Haechan’s tone was saccharine, but there was only poison in his voice as he leaned into your ear and warned, “Whatever you’re thinking; don’t you fucking dare.”

You glared Haechan dead in the eyes, adrenaline coming over you, and you gave him a smack across the face. 

Then, you leapt up and bolted into the woods. Haechan only laughed when you slapped him, but you didn’t turn around, and you damn sure didn’t stop. Fucking psycho, you sneered. 

You vanished into the thick trees, now grateful for the darkness, though time was running scarce. Daylight would be approaching soon. Shock made you lose track of time. There was no telling how long you’d spent losing what remained of your sanity.

You were a livewire, blood pumping in your ears. The sound of twigs snapping behind you made you hyper aware of Haechan’s manhunt and you knew he wasn’t far behind, but you never gave up. Your legs ached from the lack of oxygen, but your white flag was still lowered. You would never give him the satisfaction of surrender until you knew you’d done all possible to save yourself. 

Your lover called out from somewhere behind you, “You can run, baby - I love a chase - but you can’t hide.” 

The rage blindsided you. He was the epitome of a nightmare dressed like a daydream. How could you not have noticed? This was the man you spent every spare second of your day with. How could you not have seen him for the creature he truly was beneath the surface? 

Haechan liked the hunt. There was still a chipperness to his tone even as he followed the noise of your feet scurrying through those dark, wicked woods. He was evil. He was a monster. But you knew now that the villains of this godforsaken town were not ghosts or spirits - they were the very people you trusted with your life. 

Tears blurred your vision and shock made the world swivel. You refused to be another rumor. You refused to be reduced to another campfire story. You would fight for your life up until your very last exhale.

“Where do you plan on going, darling?” Haechan asked, tone welling with concern. “There’s nothing or no one out here for miles. You’ll die out here before you find someone to save you.”

You slammed into a tree and swore louder than you would’ve liked, knowing Haechan was hot on your trail because you could hear him chiding you for being so clumsy. 

“But you didn’t die out there,” said your therapist. 

You bobbed your head. “I got back up and I ran,” you told her, shuddering as you were forced to place yourself back in what was easily the worst day of your goddamn life. “He was so close. I ran into the daylight. I was in those woods for days. I had nothing. No food, no water.” 

“You had resolve,” the therapist corrected. “Because of that, you’re here to tell the story.”

You nodded a little, because you only barely survived. You genuinely thought you would die that night. If not by Haechan himself, then eventually hunger or dehydration.

“Why does this always happen to me?” you cried. “Every time I fall for someone, they treat me like a possession. But I never thought it would go this far. How come I didn’t realize until it was too late? I even…their blood is on my hands.” 

The therapist stopped you right there. “He took advantage of your trust and adulterated your champagne without your knowledge to make you easier to manipulate. You said it yourself. He knew you would never agree in your right mind.”

None of her consolation helped. Half a year had passed since the most traumatic event of your life. The wound still felt fresh. You could still hear your friends’ voices and see their faces following you everywhere. 

And knowing that their blood was on your hands made things even worse. You could hardly live with yourself. None of this would have happened if you would have never met Haechan, if you would have never given him the time of day. They would still be here, living their lives. 

It wasn’t fair that only you and that monster survived that day. You despised yourself for giving him access, but you loathed him for what he took from you. 

For what he took from them.  

She asked, “Have the nightmares stopped?” 

The nightmares started a little after that weekend and hadn’t ceased since. They would return to you every single night as you slept, more or less the same as before. You would be running for dear life as Haechan hunted you down. The setting was never the same. Some nights, he would chase you through a labyrinth of trees. Others, through a never-ending hallway. No matter the setting, he would hunt you until he finally caught you and leapt over you.

But only once he uttered the same four words in your ear would you wake, “You’re all mine now.”

They were simple, but they never failed to creep the living hell out of you. 

You shuddered. “No. But they’ve become less frequent.”

“And why do you think that is?” 

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It happened after I started spending time with this guy.”

That piqued her interest. “New boyfriend?”

“Not really,” you replied, the mere thought making you tremble. “I’m talking to this guy - Mark. He’s really sweet and I do like him, but I told him I’m not ready for a relationship. Frankly, I’m not sure if I ever will be again. But we still spend time, because I like his company.”

“That is a completely normal response after being exposed to a traumatic event. It may cause you to be emotionally distant, self-protective, and wary of others intentions. It is a difficult part of the process of healing and learning how to navigate through life as you did before.”

Though you already knew the answer, you asked, “Will my life ever be the same?” 

“Not likely,” the therapist told you honestly. “This is a new beginning for you. You’ll be learning to shed your old skin and adapt.”

You frowned. 

The therapist concluded the session not much later and you went home. Therapy was new for you. Ironically enough, it was never your idea. Instead of pressuring you into explaining what the hell happened to you, Mark suggested you tried therapy. 

To think of the boy sitting at home waiting for you was bittersweet. You sincerely enjoyed spending time with Mark, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to be vulnerable with him. Like the therapist said, you were being self-protective and wary of his intentions. No matter how hard you tried, you knew you would never be able to trust the same way again.

It made you feel as if you were keeping Mark’s heart chained away. Mark was gentle and the one to suggest you take things slowly, but a godawful feeling plagued you whenever reminded he was waiting for the girl he always wanted. And there was a chance you could never be that girl. 

You wondered what he saw in you. What he saw in a girl so broken that she couldn’t bring herself to love anyone. Did he want to take advantage of your vulnerability? Was he the same kind of evil as the ones before him? 

Love was a wager, but you had no more of yourself to give. 

As you stepped inside your car, you monitored everything around you and likely quadruple-checked the backseat. Ever since that fateful day, you were hyper aware of your surroundings. You may have escaped Haechan, but that didn’t mean he would never come back to stake his claim to you.

You drove, obsessively checking your rear-view mirror. Nobody was following you, but you could never be too safe. You were more wary than usual today. There was something in the air. 

Or maybe you were just extremely paranoid. That was more plausible. 

You hated driving through town. There was a song on the radio and it reminded you of Winter, because she would burst out singing whenever it came on. Jaehyun would be sure to duet with her. You changed the station. 

Then, you passed by a bookstore. That was where you met Ten. You remembered the very second your hands touched the same novel, fingers brushing against each other’s, and the glare you both exchanged then said loud and clear that neither of you would be backing down. But when he learned you had a copy of a book he’d been tirelessly hunting for, he let you have it and you promised to swap later. 

Unbeknownst to you, Ten freaked the hell out that night when it hit him that he had unintentionally scored a very pretty girl’s number. 

It was over for you when you saw the lake sitting at the side of the road. Yuta would meet you there for an afternoon jog whenever you had the spare time. Your friends would argue it was too romantic, but Yuta never gave a fuck what other people think. You were close, but he knew where you stood and Yuta would rather die than bone you. 

Tears threatened. Why couldn’t you get them out of your head? The guilt was eating you alive. You wanted your life back. But you tainted the chance of normalcy the second you caught a monster’s goddamn eye.  

As soon as you got home, you noticed another car parked in the driveway. Mark’s car. He asked if he could come over earlier to see you after your therapy session. You told him, “You know where the spare key is.” 

It was definitely frightening, but you wanted to trust Mark. He displayed no suspicious signs, no red flags. Then again, neither did Haechan. And everyone knew how that story went. 

No happy ever after. 

There was an overwhelmingly strong aroma of sauces and spices hitting you square in the nose the moment you stepped inside your house and there was a trail of roses predictably leading from the front door to the dining room. You cocked a brow. Since when did Mark learn how to cook? This was the same boy that could barely make instant noodles without burning you both alive. 

“Mark?” you called out. 

No reply. Which was odd. Mark couldn’t wait to see you. 

You hung your coat and followed the trail of rose petals as that was obviously what you were intended to do. The sound of old school romance music began to play even louder the closer you inched and you shuddered at how much it reminded you of Haechan. 

When he was bored, he would turn on the speaker and sing his heart out to you, making you laugh at how he danced and gave you a five-star performance. 

The memories used to make you smile fondly. Now, you were a well of unadulterated fear. 

Even this specific song tore you down. Haechan loved Michael Jackson more than anyone you ever knew. As far as you were concerned, Mark was more of an old school rap guy. 

You finally approached the dining room and your heart ricocheted at what you saw. There was Mark, bound to a chair with a gag in his mouth. And Haechan stood there with a twisted smile on his face as he saw you, holding a gun to Mark’s head. 

“Mark,” you gasped, knees buckling. 

You could hear Mark whimper faintly, though his voice was muffled. He looked at you with total fear in his eyes and you were more than apologetic, the self-loathing returning as you knew the innocent life of yet another person would ultimately be destroyed because of you. 

Haechan playfully whined, “What about me? I’m here, too.” 

“You fucking monster!” you screamed. 

Your now ex-boyfriend switched on a dime and pointed his gun at you, sneering, “Sit down.”

With a fatal weapon pointed to you, you quickly complied, finding a seat at the table. You noticed there were two plates there, each at the head of the table. Mark was forced to sit at the side. 

Because he had no part in this game. He was only another nuisance, as Haechan had put it in his own terms. Another obstacle to be eliminated. Tears stung your eyes.

Your ex was delighted by your submission and took his seat at the other end of the table, facing you, but he kept his gun tucked close. You couldn’t ignore the plates in front of you both. Only God knew how long he had been waiting for you. You knew he wanted you to play into the fantasy you’d obstructed six months ago, however, your ex-boyfriend was anything but deterred. 

“I’m glad you finally made it. Mark and I were waiting for you to join us,” Haechan said, as if this was some friendly gathering and not a hostage situation. “Although, he was an unexpected guest. But it’s no biggie.” 

You sat there and pleaded, “Haechan, please don’t hurt him. This has nothing to do with him. You want me? Just take me. Leave him alone.” 

Haechan’s tone was lighthearted despite the betrayed nature of his words, “Wow. You like him that much? I thought I meant something to you.”

“That was before you slaughtered our friends like a beast,” you hissed, seething. 

Haechan corrected, “More like a pack of wolves. Everything we do is a group effort, baby. We’re a team. We’re in this together. There is no you without me and no me without you.”

You met Mark’s eyes and instantly knew what he was thinking. This guy is a total psychopath. 

He could tell this was what you had been hiding and you were aware. You had never discussed your trauma with him at length and Mark never made you feel any pressure to. Now, he understood what had you so scarred. 

You called with disdain, “Donghyuck.” 

Haechan ignored you calling him by his government name and changed his tone, feigning woundedness, “I can’t believe you tried to replace me, baby. You even told him where the spare key is. Did you actually think I wouldn’t come back to take what’s mine?” 

“I’m not yours, Donghyuck,” you told him, words dripping with vitriol. “And I never will be again. You had your chance and you blew it.”

“How could you say that?” Haechan asked, eyes wide and dark with an emotion you had no intention of understanding. “After all I’ve done for you. All I’ve done for us so that we could be alone together. I love you so much.”

For a second, you were at a loss for words, then explained, “This isn’t love. This is obsession. You need help.”

Haechan furiously snapped, “I need you. And I will stop at nothing to have you.”

Your ex-boyfriend stood to his feet and you entirely expected hell to break loose, but you were thrown for a loop when Mark tackled him to the ground, somehow unraveling his ropes while Haechan was distracted by you. 

Mark screamed at you, “Run!” 

You hesitated. You didn’t want to leave Mark there alone to die. The past six months had been spent trying to recover from the blood on your hands and you couldn’t go through that torture. There was a chance you would lose another part of your sanity that you barely had as is. But Mark gave you a look and you bolted out of there. 

As soon as you slipped out the front door, you heard a gunshot echoing and trembled, but you never stopped running. Your phone was in your car. You glanced around, expecting at least some of your neighbors to be concerned by the noise, though no one came. 

Your brows furrowed. There were cars parked in most of the driveways and this was a notably safe neighborhood. How could nobody care? 

The moment you got to your car you collapsed in relief when you saw your phone and immediately tried to dial the police, but strangely, your phone had no connection. You threw your head back frustratedly and nearly screamed at the top of your lungs. 

You didn’t even want to ask what the hell was going on. Haechan had returned to resume unfinished business, and this time, he would not leave empty-handed.

Your only other option was to go find help and you felt a twinge of worry sitting in your stomach when you realized that entailed leaving Mark by himself. You had no idea what was happening  - or had happened - in that house.

Without any other options, you searched for your keys and froze when you remembered that you’d left them in the pocket of your coat. Which you had hung up inside. 

You heard the front door creaking open and exhaled in relief when you realized it was only Mark, escaping unscathed. For now. 

Mark was heaving for breath and incredulous when he noticed you only standing there. “Why haven’t you left?”

“I left my keys inside,” you explained frantically, running into his arms. “I tried to call the police, but it didn’t work. And nobody came outside after the gunshot. I think he did something.” 

Mark made a face because despite both your cars parked in the driveway, he didn’t have his keys, either. “We have to go right now. None of us were shot. He’s going to come looking for you any second now,” he said, grabbing your hand and yanking you down the street. 

You could hardly match his long strides, but adrenaline gave you a surge of strength. Between your feet and your pulse, you couldn’t decide what was quicker. Your heart was thumping so loudly you swore Mark could hear. 

The curiosity consumed you and you asked through ragged breath, “How’d you get out of the ropes?”

“Five years of summer camp in a row,” Mark explained. “I never thought learning how to untie knots would benefit me, but look at God.”

Noticing how tightly he was holding your hand only made you weaker. You hoped and prayed you would come out of this unscathed. Not only you, but Mark too. You couldn’t lose another person at the hands of your psychopathic ex-boyfriend. The guilt and self-hatred would consume you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t mean to drag you into this,” you cried. 

“We’ll talk about this when we’re safe,” Mark told you, clearing another corner.

You heard Haechan’s smooth voice calling after you, but his tone was downright spine-chilling. He was out for blood. Mark held you closer to his chest as you both sprinted down the sidewalk, praying to god Haechan didn't know where you’d gone. 

It was downright odd. Why was no one there but you three? The weather was perfect for an afternoon walk with your dog around the neighborhood, but there was nobody. Not even someone tending to their garden or taking out the trash. And how had no one bat an eye at the piercing sound of a gunshot? 

Wondering if it was a coincidence or if there was something much more nefarious at work made your head spin. The emptiness was unnerving. You couldn’t comprehend how Haechan could have gotten the entire neighborhood to evacuate, but you had underestimated him once. You weren’t keen on doing so again.

Having Mark there to support your weight was the only thing keeping you from dropping to the ground in surrender. You were just so tired. You were tired of running, tired of mustering the strength to rouse another day only to be haunted by guilt and regret. It was close to consuming you. And there would nothing of you to remain. You were running on empty. Your body was exhausted, but your mind was worn thin. 

“Come on,” Mark said, noticing your strength dwindling. “You can do this, baby. We can get out of here.” 

Mark ground to a halt to face you and softened when he saw your eyes. He could tell this had ruined you. He would never know the girl you were before Haechan alas broke you. 

There was an uncanny resemblance between now and your nightmares. Haechan was hunting you down like an animal, hot on your heels. Only now, you had Mark to protect you. But deep inside, you knew there was nothing that could stand in Haechan’s way when he wanted something. 

Mark cradled you in his arms when you slept and kept the monsters under your bed away. But this was the real thing. He couldn’t save you. No one could.

It all just happened so fast. 

A loud snap rended the air and the very next second, Mark was crouching on the asphalt, stomach gaping with blood. He was wide-eyed, a hand cupping his stomach. 

“Mark!” you screamed. 

You dropped to your knees, crouching beside him, and tried desperately to keep the blood from leaving him all too soon. But there was so much. The sight of the deep color staining your hands only made you nauseous with deja vu. 

Mark was weak, still on the sidewalk. He couldn’t scream, but you could see the pain in his pretty eyes. It thoroughly devastated you. 

“Don’t leave me. Please, Mark,” you begged, tears stinging your eyes. But you couldn’t hear yourself speak. You couldn’t hear yourself think. You were so fixated on Mark slowly fading away beneath your fingertips that you didn’t notice the presence behind you until it was too late. 

Haechan’s voice was saccharine but his eyes were welling with ire, “He’s not going to make it, darling. There’s no one out here to help him.” 

You ignored Haechan, plagued by fear or hatred or all of the above. Watching Mark die would be too overwhelming. At least you had no recollection of your friend’s deaths. Seeing Mark take his final breaths would kill you too. “Keep your eyes open for me,” you told Mark, noticing he was going cold. “Keep them open!”

Mark was struggling, but he tried for you. You could feel the last piece of you die as he fought for his life and you sat there, unable to do anything to keep him stable. He was dying. He reached for your hand with his trembling arm and squeezed with all the strength he could muster. 

That angered Haechan and seething with rage, he coiled his arms around you, pulling you away from Mark. 

You kicked and threw your arms back, screaming at the top of your lungs, “Get your hands off me, you sick son of a bitch! You’ve taken everything from me! I fucking hate you!”

Haechan was unbothered, only cooing, “You don’t mean that, baby girl. One day you’ll understand that everything I do is out of love for you.” 

Mark was coughing up blood now and the sight was horrifying. Tears rolled down your cheeks. You were in so much pain, covered in wounds only you could see. You could only imagine what Mark was feeling now as he took his last breaths. 

Mark called out your name faintly and said with the last of his strength, “Thank you for being the best thing to ever happen to me.” 

You screamed in agony and grief when Mark’s eyes shut on you. You begged him not to leave you. Though he was only unconscious, you knew you’d seen and heard the last of him. 

Your pain was converted to anger and you thrashed in Haechan’s arms, only wanting Mark’s embrace. “Let me go,” you shouted, trying to escape. But to no avail. Your hands burned with his blood. Every inhale was agonizing. “Let go of me!”

“Shh,” Haechan whispered, swiping a trail of tears from your face. “Don’t you see? He was trying to come between us.” 

Haechan still kept you close by, but finally released you. You kneeled to the ground, too overcome by dizziness to stand. Your mind was screaming at you. Your heart was pounding. Every piece of you was so dead yet alive altogether. You could only scream, wanting to take your friend’s fate for them. 

Nobody heard you. There was nobody there. You cried and raged, but save for you, Haechan, and Mark’s lifeless body, the whole neighborhood was empty. You were alone in your pain and suffering and nobody would hear you cry. 

“Why?” you turned to Haechan and screamed, lips trembling. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”

Haechan pressed his lips to your ear and told you with no hesitation, “Because there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” 

Had you not already dissolved into tears, you would have. Life as you’d known it was forever gone because of this man and it had become unbearable now. There was no way you could live with yourself anymore. The guilt was overpowering. You were being self-protective, but Mark had died to protect you. Winter, Jaehyun, Yuta, and Ten had died at your expense. The feelings that plagued you now were simply too much for the human mind to handle. 

Your palms hit the ground, scuffing the asphalt. Your body was limp with defeat. There was no fight in you anymore. He had broken you. 

“You win,” you croaked, surrendering. “Whatever this game is, you fucking win. I can’t do this anymore.”

Haechan beamed, all too excited by those words. “I knew you would come around.” 

Haechan cradled you in his arms and you let him. You had no more strength or will to fight him. He had milked you dry. You only sat there unmoving, wondering where you’d gone wrong. If this could have been avoided or if Haechan destroying your life was merely inevitable.

Pain throttled you, hands clamped bruisingly around your neck. You cried and screamed until it was out of your system and your voice no longer worked. Haechan endeavored to soothe you the whole time, stroking your back. Even your tears were precious to him. He hated to make you cry, but one day you would understand why this needed to happen. 

For now, he had won. You said it yourself. There was a big grin on his face as he claimed victory. 

“There, there. It’s time to go now, babe,” Haechan cooed, lifting you into his arms. He liked that you still instinctively wrapped your arms around your neck, and he stared into your eyes, in love with the beauty within them. “You’re all mine now.”

“I’m yours,” you repeated back quietly, accepting. “All yours.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek. 

[phantology]

pet names

— the pet name that the ghouls call you most often. [swiss, dewdrop, phantom, rain, aether, mountain]

a/n: this is my first time writing for ghost, so apologies for the short length. just wanted to get a feel for it before i started writing longer things :)

DEWDROP ━━━

you could hear the half-walk, half-run of your favorite ghoul before you heard his voice. his gate told you he was happy about something, whatever it was.

your theory was confirmed a few beats later as he walked into the room, guitar in tow.

“i take it practice went well?” you smiled.

“tiring, but it went well.” dewdrop set his guitar down, then made a beeline for you. “although, you know that i missed you, doll.”

PHANTOM ━━━

the word that slips off of phantom’s tongue is… foreign, to say the least. it almost felt heavy. he seemingly said it without realizing it, tagging it on to the end of his sentence as though it was your name. whatever he had said to you doesn’t even register.

“what did you say?” you finally ask.

“i asked what you were up to?” he responds, sounding a little confused.

“no, what did you call me?”

he seems to think about it. after a few brief moments, he finally looks back up at you. “i called you… i guess a translation would be something like ‘my darling?’”

AETHER ━━━

“good morning, darling.” aether’s voice was starkly chipper to how you felt. it was a little too early in the morning for you taste, but sleep evaded you.

despite the tiredness still clouding your mind, you smiled at the ghoul. you plopped yourself down beside him and laid against him, allowing him to maneuver the both of you so that his arm fell across your shoulders. as he began to rub small circles into your skin, sleep finally found you.

RAIN ━━━

it was quiet. not that you minded it, just that most days spent around the ghouls were the very opposite of quiet.

“hey, sweetheart?” the familiar, calming voice of rain caught your attention. you looked from the reading you were engrossed in to the ghoul who offered you a small smile.

“hey,” you responded. “where is everyone else?”

he shrugged absently. “out. doing something or the other. i figured we could do something? stay in, if you want, or we could go find something to do. whatever you wanted.”

SWISS ━━━

“baby..” swiss dragged out the name, purposefully making his voice whiny to get your attention.

you looked up at him. you didn’t say anything, but the look on your face communicated what you meant. in all honesty, you’d forgotten what you were feigning being upset about, but swiss’ attempts at earning your forgiveness were becoming comical.

MOUNTAIN ━━━

the mug made a clink noise as mountain set it on the desk. inside of it was coffee, made just the way that you always liked. mountain had a weird way of remembering little things like that: the way you made your coffee, the way you wrote certain letters, the way you organized. it was odd to you sometimes, but other times it was useful.

“hopefully the coffee helps.” mountain started. he paused for a moment before continuing. “but… you need sleep, my love. you’re sure there’s nothing i can do to help you finish your work?”