#? what is his ghoul name lol

[tiffs-space]

It's the fact that his alter ego isnt at all shy about being frank with his feelings for her 🥹👏🏻😭

(*Spoilers for a bonus story that doesnt affect the anime or manga main story line, but putting a spoiler tag anyways for those who want to read it on their own. And who knows, maybe it'll be used for a filler episode?)

Also the way he hunches around like a feral animal is just so -!!!! Lol bro is literally going goblin mode for his boo 😂💓

[simpjaes]

666 ― S.JY

When does an interest in the supernatural become unnatural? You’d say right around the time a spirit told you to write his name with your own….body fluids

minors dni! | reblog to summon a hot demon

WORDCOUNT― 4.8k

PAIRING― demon!Jake x reader (ft. boyfriend Sunghoon)

CONTENT― Jake the jealous demon and is also a massive cocky asshole, reader the instigator. made up sex magic, Jake is A VERY horny demon. sunghoon also wants demon jake. peep the smut tags lol

WARNINGS ― infidelity but like ur cheating with a sex demon so, some instances could be mistaken for manipulation

NOTE― this is a halloween fic that i forgot about that i wrote for haechan on my other blog ncteez. if you’re one of the few who actually read this before, just know that I am the same person!!!!!!!!!!! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― cock mimicking (demon fucks you with your boyfriend’s cock), forked tongue play, finger fucking, ghostly foreplay, HUGE MASSIVE COCK PENETRATION, mind reading, horns react to touch the same way a cock does ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You've always been into halloween, Sunghoon just thought it was a cute little quirk of yours. Until he started dating you and realized that...it's not just halloween that you're into. It's just a general list of things that would be considered disturbing on any other month that isn't october.

Deities, spirits, ghouls, demons, bones, death, blood.

He's supportive, of course. October is one of the months you're allowed to openly enjoy these things, because everyone pretends to like them too at this time of year. Temporary stores open up to sell the congealed fake blood, ouija boards are moved to the outside aisles of retail stores, and of course, everything is on sale.

This is great for Sunghoon because, as your boyfriend, he knows you celebrate the month of halloween more than you celebrate your own birthday, and the gifts can be plentiful.

Lately, you've been more interested in spirit work too, so when he's on his way home from work to see you, stopping by one of those chaotic halloween stores to grab a fancy, way too expensive if not on sale ouija board? It was a given.

Anything to see that cute smile on your face.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well. The ouija board miiiiiight have been a mistake on his part.

Knowing next to nothing on spirit work, he wasn't expecting a board game sold in children's stores to actually pick anything up for you. Yet, night after night when he comes home, you approach him with a tight hug, an excited smile, and stories of which spirit gave you their name this time.

You, on the other hand, claim to know more about spirit work than you actually do. You did not expect to get any type of response either, especially in this pristine apartment that you assume no one has died in yet.

You learned fast though. Research, research, research.

"Today I learned that spirits aren't actually trapped in one space like all the ghost movies try to say. They might be connected but they can freely come and go." You smile against Sunghoon as he settles himself on the couch, freshly showered after work.

"You really like playing with that thing, huh?" He smiles back, still believing in the shallowness of it all, when it comes to corporate companies selling boards for people to "connect with loved ones".

Nodding to him, you stand up and look at him expectantly.

"Do you wanna try?"

He's reluctant at first. As much as he supports you and your interests, they aren't his.

He's great at humoring you though. Amazing, even.

"Yeah, why not?" He smiles, standing to his tired feet and following you into the bedroom.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Two fingers on both hands," You quietly guide him on how to use it. "If you're not comfortable asking questions, I can do it."

Sunghoon nods casually, still not quite believing in the gimmick but loving the way you're so passionate.

"I don't mind asking, can I try?"

You frown, knowing exactly what will happen when he does.

"Yeah, of course!" You turn your frown into something unreadable, hoping that the same spirit you've been talking to is off at some middle school party switching the lights to get a kick out of it.

Then, there's silence. The candle's flame that you had previously lit bounces in the still air, indicating that tonight is already primed for the various spirits you've willingly accepted into your space.

"Uh," Sunghoon suddenly feels awkward, speaking out to nothing in the room when you're right in front of him, watching him. "Hello?"

You snicker at his awkwardness, knowing that you felt it too.

"Is there anything–anyone– here tonight? We'd like to talk."

Here's the thing. From the moment you started fucking with this oujia board, you never watched your words. You assumed that using proper grammar when speaking wouldn't matter much, considering they're dead and all. You keep it respectful, of course, but...

Anything being in your apartment is a huge difference compared to anyone.

The anythings tend to make a run for it, and the anyones are forced to stay away from the dangerous energy you're unintentionally inviting.

Speaking of the anythings, there's a regular. If your frown from moments ago is anything to go by. A vulgar spirit which you know as nothing more than "Jae".

Jae, the spirit, claims to be in his twenties, slides the planchette with just your fingers on it to numbers and letters with ease, and also is very fond of sarcasm, apparently.

The last time you spoke with this specific spirit, it ended it you asking him if he left any loved ones behind when he died. The board said yes, Jae said yes.

He claimed to be male, he claimed to have died ten years ago, and claims to have been in love.

And when you tried to relate, speaking of your boyfriend, saying your boyfriend's name, the spirit stopped responding. In fact, the board flew straight across your room as you spoke of Sunghoon.

Arguably, you were thrown off and only a little bit afraid. You definitely weren't the one who swiped the board off your bed, letting it hit your wall.

Which is why, while inviting Sunghoon to try the board, you hope that said spirit is off doing other things.

Which he's not.

Sunghoon's eyes nearly roll when he feels the planchette pull, dragging to the word of "yes" after you spoke out after his awkward greeting.

"You're pulling it, right?"

You ignore him, already locked in and staring at the board.

"Can you give me your name?" You whisper, now glancing up to Sunghoon and waiting for the planchette to move again.

It does, straight to the "J", and as it continues, you lift your hands out of discomfort, unintentionally proving to your boyfriend that you're not moving it.

"A" Sunghoon whispers as he stares in disbelief, feeling his hands move against the ghostly board. "E."

And when the planchette stops, he looks at you.

"Why'd you let go?" He says, glancing between both you and the board. "This is insane!" A smile.

You can see the same excitement you had the first time it moved for you, but the fact that the same spirit is back, after rudely throwing your board across the room at the mere mention of Sunghoon is a bit worrisome.

"Jae?" Sunghoon calls out, now feeling the adrenaline in his blood push past the anxiety of talking to nothing. "How did you die?"

"Sunghoon! You can't just ask him that!"

"Him?" Sunghoon side eyes you. "What makes you think it's a guy?"

You avoid eye contact.

"Well," You tick your tongue. "He's kind of told me like, two weeks ago. Plus, that’s a dude’s name."

Sunghoon laughs, making jokes. This is harmless. This is fun.

"Oh?" Sunghoon tilts his head, lifting his fingers to encourage you to place yours back against the planchette too. "Jae, have you been flirting with my girlfriend?"

It was a joke of a question, and quite disrespectful in your mind for him to ask such a thing, but the way the planchette moves to "yes" has you sweating, and kind of, smiling.

A spirit, jealous of Sunghoon? Not something you had on your bingo card for the year.

"So you think I'm pretty?" You smile, avoiding your boyfriend's eye and watching the planchette move over to "no".

Your smile falls, and the planchette moves again.

"H."

"O."

"T."

You actually cannot explain the warmth inside of you. Flirting with a ghost, while your boyfriend participates? Hilarious scenario, surely Sunghoon isn't taking this seriously.

"You're moving it now, there's no way some dead guy is coming after my girl." Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head.

The planchette responds, moving to "no."

"Alright, stop fucking around." Sunghoon narrows his eyes at you. "A spirit wouldn't take the energy to contact us just to call you hot."

The planchette responds again, moving to the letter "B."

"Take your hands off again, there's no way." He seems more concerned this time.

"I."

"T."

"C."

"H."

Sunghoon's mouth falls open.

"Who are you calling a bitch? Me, or my very hot girlfriend that you can't have?"

"Y."

"O."

And as the planchette makes it way over to the "u" Sunghoon lifts his hands and glares at every empty space around the room.

"He just called me a bitch." Sunghoon rolls his eyes. "There is a spirit in this room, who thinks i'm a bitch."

You laugh uncomfortably, and he laughs more casually.

"Well, that was fun, I guess." Sunghoon continues, standing to his feet as you cross your fingers that the board wont go flying into his head. "I'm gonna go take a shower then."

He kisses you gently on the forehead and leaves you alone in the room where, obviously, you're still not alone.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Days pass and Halloween draws closer as you are both drawn to and forcing yourself away from the ouija board.

Something calls you to it. Whispers of your name when Sunghoon isn't home, feather light touches that raise your skin, nightmares, but your gut tells you to stay away.

Can you though? Can you really resist such a strange happening?

Of course not.

Spirit work is fun, but you can't help but wonder if this entity is a spirit at all. Out of all the research, people rarely get more than one to two answers during a session of Ouija. This Jae thing seems to hold a lot of energy, an entire personality, and the ability to haunt you in a way that makes you feel weirdly.......safe?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Jae, are you here?" You call out in the early morning, the oujia board tucked safely under your bed as you lay there.

Your curtains move as if the window is open.

"The dream I had last night, was that you?" You continue to speak into the void, allowing it to speak back.

Except it doesn't speak back, it touches. You feel your ankle being tugged, as you scoot down the bed.

Most people would scream. Most people would call a priest. Most people wouldn't want to be alone with it. Then again, you're not most people.

You laugh, scooting yourself back up on the bed.

"I wish I could see what you really look like. In my dreams, you're just a shadow."

Another tug, and then the oujia board goes sliding out from under your bed, indicating that he wants to communicate better with you.

You take the bait, lying the board out with your sleepy eyes and drowsily smiling at the empty space in front of you.

Before you can even place your hands on the planchette, it's moving.

"S"

"U"

"M"

"M"

"O"

"N"

You should probably be running for the hills after that, but you don't. You sit, still drowsy.

"How would I manage to do that?"

"S"

"L"

"E"

"E"

"P"

And for some reason, you do. Instantly, you go back to sleep. Despite waking up without an alarm, the drowsy feeling stayed throughout your morning conversation with the spirit in your apartment. Dozing off came easy, with the oujia board still in front of you.

And there, you dream despite knowing that the sun is hitting your face as you sleep. You can feel the warmth of it in the dream as a creature, no, a man, approaches you in an empty expanse of fog.

In your dream, you cannot speak despite trying to. No voice comes out, but the man speaks smoothly, fuzzy and distorted face slowly untwisting itself into that of an actual man.

That's him. You can feel it through your heavy sleep, your hairs raising both in the astral realm and in your waking body.

"You want to summon me?" The man asks, smiling at you in a heavenly way. "You have to say my full name."

You can't speak back, but he continues.

"You have to be alone, though others can still join if the door is open. On both ends."

You stand, listening to his echoed voice through the fog.

"If you want me in the physical form, you have to do something physical for me." He continues, stepping closer and closer until his body is nearly going through you. "Say my name each time you're pleasured, and write my name against your skin with the mess of it."

You quirk a brow, and the form in front of you smiles.

"What? You thought I'd let you summon me for anything else? I've been here for thousands of years."

You thought he died ten years ago.

"Angel pussy only gets so tight, you know."

Vulgar. Yet, your physical body is tingling. Angel pussy? Is he an angel? From a religion you don't even believe in?

He notes the confusion on your dreaming face.

"You see me now, my face, if you want to feel me too, you'll do as I say." His dreamed up voice is something you know you've never heard before. His face, someone you've never seen.

You know it's not possible to dream of a physical person you've never seen, and he's so clear to you at this moment. Practically feeling his voice blow in your face.

His hair, messy, almost wet looking. His eyes are piercing, his lips, pretty.

You nod, and he smiles.

"And don't invite your boyfriend."

Then, you snap awake. Feeling as if you've just had the wettest of dreams.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Naturally, you listened to the figure in the dream, using every pleasurable mess your body makes to write his name on your skin. A name which came to you without him stating it at all in the dream.

Days go by, his name remains on your skin.

Halloween comes and, well, so does Sim Jaeyun. 

Finally.

October 30th, 11:59am is the last moment of your life where you'll be curious. October 31st, 12:00am is the first moment of your life where a ghostly touch became a real one.

You were awake, of course you were. And alone.

Sunghoon tends to spend the 30th with you, and the 31st with his parents, helping to tend to the haunted house his family likes to throw each year.

"You're alone?" You hear, whispered against your ear as you slouch against the couch.

The echoed voice is all to familiar, sending a shock through your body in an instant and you turn, only to see nothing.

"Jae?" You question into the air, glancing around the room.

A deep chuckle is heard in your other ear, and a cold feeling is felt against your cheek.

"Entirely alone?" The voice sounds out.

"I've done what you told me to do, and I still can't see you.”

"I know." The voice sounds further away now, and you follow it all too easily.

Straight into your room, you follow the whispers. You see the board get thrown again, and you tilt your head.

"You're upset?" You question to the emptiness, and you get no response at all until you feel it.

Ice cold pressure running from your ankles to the nape of your neck. Traveling up and down your body until you can barely stand the feeling of goosebumps refusing to go down.

Thunder. Lightening, and then the sound of raining rattling against your window.

You sigh at the new feeling, your legs moving on their own to your bed as you lay against it in a feeling of cold comfort.

"One more time." You feel the whisper before you truly hear it, a weight on your bed, a weight hovering over you. "Write my name."

The ice cold feeling strikes between your legs, instantly giving you the very material to do as he says. And you do, dipping your fingers between your legs in awe at the feeling of how fast you manage to get wet over this.

And there, you feel the weight against your hand, almost as if he's writing his name himself against your thigh.

And you wait.

and wait.

and wait, until....

"Close your eyes."

You do, not daring to open them until he says. You feel that ice cold energy leave, replaced with a searing hot feeling, something that makes you sweat, something that makes you shake.

You hear shuffling, you hear your bedroom door opening and closing, you hear mumbled whispers in a different language, and then you hear his voice in real space. Bouncing off your walls rather than being implied right up against your ear.

"Open your eyes."

You open them to your empty room sitting just as you left it, the air feeling neutral, the oujia board looking much less magical as it lays on the floor. Then you hear your door open. Instantly your eyes glance to the space there.

"It's you." You whisper out, looking him up and down, feeling overwhelmed, and quite frankly, astonished.

"Of course it's me, you summoned me." The figure smiles, looking nothing more than a man despite something being...off. Which is obvious, but still stirs your stomach uncomfortably.

"You're no spirit, are you?" You blurt, unsure of how rude it may seem to him.

"Oh no, clearly not." The figure looms over, taking visible strides towards you before holding his hand out to truly feel you for the first time. "I got you good though, didn't I?"

"What are you, then?" You question, ignoring that you've been writing his name on your skin day after day with the slick your orgasms produce.

"Does it matter? I'm only here physically for the night." He glares deeply at your questions. So willing to bring him here, but so unwilling to complete the other half of the deal that he, maybe, didn't expand on in previous communications.

You stare at him, still trying to process that the so-called spirit you were so excited to speak to before, is here, now, in flesh. With a voice, and a body that doesn't entirely appear to be breathing at all. He looks so human, so, so, human, yet so....not.

He doesn't falter at your reaction much longer though. It's been hundreds of years since he's managed to get a woman to call out for him in such a vulgar way. It was funny to him, really, looming in every corner watching you do as he instructed. Reading your mind when you're intimate with Sunghoon.

"Last night– you were thinking of me instead.." Jaeyun smiles warmly, uncaring of how strongly he comes off because opinions and thoughts are something he is well versed in.

He can read everything you're thinking, and you want it. He's gentle when he moves to you, claiming his spot hovering over you, staring down at your eyes. He never knew what it was like to look at someone, to cherish and love, even. He only knows how to look into and through a person.

"I did." You admit, unable to look away from him, unable to feel fear, or pretend that you want to squirm away from his weight loosely pinning you against the bed. "Were you always here? Watching?"

He nods with a smile.

"Quite pretty when you're writing my name," He comments, leaning down to lick against your bottom lip. "If only you knew what it all meant, in the grand scheme of things."

"Hm?" You try to question, feeling like you're in a trance by the way his tongue flicks out so quickly, satiating your entire body with just that single act.

"Six times." He breathes. "You did so well."

You sigh at the feeling of nothing, as he pulls his face back from yours. There's still a ghostly pressure against all of the right places, and he's very aware of it.

"I own you." He comments with a chuckle, moving his hand down your body to feel the wet he created with no effort at all. "You'll never be rid of me."

You find....great pleasure in that. He knows you do. Even if he couldn't read every thought behind your eyes, the way your body moves toward his hand is enough to go by.

Humans, so desperate. So obsessed with praise, so...selfish. Just like him. Time and time again, he will grow bored of the sex other realms offer. It doesn't matter how many forms of fog he can get his claws on. Becoming human, being with a human, it sears hotter for him.

Makes him hotter. Makes him feel like the god who damned him.

"I'm a demon, babe." He laughs, now effectively thrusting two fingers into you and enjoying the way you seethe out at the heat he can't help but emit.

Deep down, you knew. You accepted it. You brought him here, you kept him here. You simply don't care. Otherworldly beings are meant to give curiosity. Who cares if you gave in? You didn't know where your everlasting soul would end up anyway, at least now you know that it'll end up with this....humanly thing who works his fingers like magic.

Because it is magic. Hellish magic.

"Is this what you always look like?" You ask, "Is this what you always sound like?"

The demon chuckles against your throat, fingers making little effort in the way it quite literally feels like you're already having the best sex of your human life.

"Does it matter? You gave yourself to me, I can be whatever you want me to be." He whispers out, licking against your naked skin.

That's right. Somehow, you're undressed. You felt no fabric, and you could honestly care less if he snapped them into the void.

You moan at the feeling, comprehending only slightly how his tongue went from flat and humanly to...forked. Two tips of his tongue, wrapped around your nipple, moving smoothly, wetly, hotly against you in a way that feels as blasphemous as it looks.

And when you reach up, on your very earthly instinct to grip his hair, you're met with a pair of curled horns.

You moan again, and he chuckles, knowing that this is for your pleasure, not his own quite yet.

"You can touch them." He insists, sliding his fingers out of you and writing his name again against your thigh, essentially sealing the contract you already agreed to. "You'll have no choice but to hold on to them later."

You, for some reason, take that promise as if it is seared into your fate. Forever damned to take hold of a demon's horns, forever blessed to be fucked by him.

"I like that thought," the demon chuckles with a second voice, seemingly penetrating your thoughts more than the place between your legs right now. "Blessed." He smiles, tongue long as it remains against your nipple and yet, he still is able to lift up to make eye contact with you. "Cute."

You're so entranced by the happenings in this moment, that Sunghoon seems...lesser. He feels like the past to you, as you feel and experience a hellish hand, and a hellish tongue. Soon, possibly, to experience whatever kind of cock demons have.

"Lesser? Fitting." he comments straight into your thoughts with that second voice, soothing your ambitions of being anyone other than his. "and my cock..."

You listen so intently to that second voice, your body is burning up with pleasure. The way he continues to write his name on your skin somehow feels better than when his fingers were inside of you. All of it feels better than anything you've ever felt in your life.

"It can be more, can be less, can be bigger, smaller, doubled, tripled, and even..." His secondary voice pauses with a chuckle, "if you're into experimenting, i am and will be whatever body you're interested in being fucked by."

That...seems exciting.

And it is. Trading a human life for whatever the fuck this is seems like such a great idea. Entranced or not, you still have a mind of your own and it's one that wanted this. He knows it, you know it, and no one else needs to know it.

"That's right, work your little brain." He pulls back, leaving your nipples more than swollen while he uses his real voice. Raspy, vulgar, enticing. "You made this choice." He taunts, flattening his palm against your thigh and pressing your legs open, hooking one above his other leg and instantly sliding into you.

The moment he hears your thoughts, searing in the pain you summoned upon yourself, he smiles. He coos out, pitying the way you so willingly want this deal to be real. And oh, it's so real.

That pain you're feeling with the cock he perfected just for you. He knows what you want.

"Familiar?" He smiles wickedly against your neck, darting his tongue out to lick a searing heat against you.

You can barely think through the feeling of his cock practically morphing inside of you. The pain from before, with the large hardened length turning into that of something...not only familiar but, too familiar.

He's fucking you with Sunghoon's cock, and can't help but notice how much you fight against wanting anything other than that.

"Too familiar?" He repeats your thoughts, stretching you open more than you think you ever have been, as his cock becomes thicker, heavier, hotter. "So, mine will do then?"

You try to nod, but you're a bit busy trying to comprehend the fact that a demon cock is quite literally tearing you apart right now, on Halloween fucking night. How grossly cliche.

"We like gross though, don't we?" He smiles, pulling his length out only a bit, and feeling the way your pussy grips it as if you'd find a way to threaten him for not keeping you filled to the brim. "You like feeling like you're being split in half, don't you?"

You do nod this time, arms reaching up to his horns and squeezing tightly. He grunts at it, loving the feeling of someone touching on him while lying helpless beneath him. Such willpower you have, such willpower you don't want.

He feels what you feel, that pain? You love it. The warmth in his horns? Nearly pulsing against your palms at the pleasure of this act? You love that too.

"It's like you were made for the hells, babe." He comments snidely, pulling out, then pushing into you roughly. "Made just for me." He continues, claiming you, fucking you, all while knowing that you're already his. 

All while knowing that there's another person entering this apartment, and you're too far gone to pretend that this isn't temptation. It's willingful lust, and it's a deed you signed for.

"Weren't you?" His secondary voice demands that you respond with your voice rather than your thoughts, as he continuously stimulates your entire body through his own made up form.

"Weren't you?" He echoes again, real and secondary voice now filling your senses alongside the squeezing in your gut, your g-spot stimulated by a demon cock seemingly built for doing just this. A body built for pleasure, a demon created for it.

"Weren't you?" He echoes through a seethed whisper, tongue darting out and between your lips, forcing an answer from you.

You wail out in pleasure, sheer lack of humanity showing through the sound. He loves the way you sob a "yes!" through amazement. Humans aren't meant to comprehend what he's doing to you, or what he will do to you.

Humans aren't meant to accept seeing either, yet, here comes Sunghoon. Sprinting to the room where he's just heard his beloved girlfriend scream.

Only to find you gripping onto a pair of pulsing horns. Legs spread wider for this creature than they ever were for him. A forked tongue looking as if it's sucking the life straight from your throat.

But those screams aren't from pain, Sunghoon sees it plainly.

The sound of a cock too big for you, pleasuring you. The grip you have on this creature, and the grip that creature has on you.

Sunghoon can't find it in him to even ask what the fuck is going on. He just stands there frozen, knowing you don't notice him there. Who would?!

The creature, makes eye contact.

"I tried to fuck her with your cock," It echoes out to him in a, almost apologetic voice and it sends shivers down his spine. "She needed more."

Sunghoon is still standing in the doorway of your bedroom. Frozen solid, his heart is racing as he watches that he's not only being cheated on but like, goddamn, with a fucking....thing?! Not even a person?

Your ears are ringing, sure you've orgasms a dozen times by now, both feeling all of it and not feeling any of it at all because the demon just keeps going. Listening to your every thought, cooing at each orgasm and willing more, more, more. Until he can trace his name six hundred and sixty six times into your skin. "You could be mine too, Sunghoon." The demon calls out, forcing his voice into the man's head, reading every thought, half-assed prayer, and unbelievable idea of trying to intervene. "I know you want to."

[ghoulphile]

run rabbit run | c.h/the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 869 ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, mildly dubious consent (kinda?), dom!coop, bareback, cum play, degradation kink, biting, pet names (bunny), man-handling, doggystyle, drabble, coop's gotta fuck you full so the ferals can't smell you ➥ summary | "the drabble thing HNNNGH think about coop calling you bunny from the start bc he clocked that you were always a down for it and you not getting it until he after you fuck for the first time" ➥ notes | do not look @ me rn 🫣 i feel like i've exposed myself too much lol masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

He found the rabbit among endless dunes of rock and rubble; a frightened, jumpy little beast that required a firm hand to tame, and an even steadier one to control.

And while it would’ve been easier to dump ‘em at Super Duper Mart -- get his caps worth, pounds of flesh for vials of chem -- he took a shine. Now, what exactly it is about you that captured his attention so thoroughly, he can’t be sure (though he could hazard a few guesses).

What he does know is this: if it wasn’t for him, you’d have been killed a million times over by raiders, fiends, and ferals alike. Always finding your way into trouble as soon as his back is turned.

Like now.

So if he’s a little rough with you, it’s only because he had to haul ass half-way across the flooded district when he heard you scream.

Nevermind the hard lurch of his heart, the sensation of his stomach droppin’ to his feet. You were supposed to be safe, holed up in the building he cleared yesterday.

Surprise, surprise; you decided to go poking where you shouldn’t, and now he’s gotta rescue your dumb ass. Skidded around a bombed out building only to find you fighting off a small pack of ferals, their rotted hands scratching at your arms and their teeth gnashing at your face.

Goddamn it.

Same shit, different day.

“What did I fuckin’ say?” he snarls, chapped lips pressed tight against your ear as sharp hip bones rut into the softness of your ass. “You’re dumber than shit sometimes.”

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t - hhahh, slow down - didn’t mean to cause trouble.” Your hands scramble for purchase, nail beds aching from how hard you’re digging at the dirt.

Shoved onto the ground, pants sagging around your thighs as a stray rock digs into your cheek, scraping up the tender skin. “Won’t do it again, I promise.”

The Ghoul snorts, delivers a stinging nip to the tip of your ear. Your reedy whine soothes some of the agitation but he’s still bristling, aggression threaded through with tendrils of panic he refuses to acknowledge.

“I highly doubt that.”

You hiccup, knees spreading wide as your back dips - trying to get away, to get closer.

The fat head of his cock keeps hitting your cervix with every stroke, little fissions of pain kissed pleasure racketing up your spine as he stretches you past your limits and fucks you open.

Your gummy walls swollen and raw from the constant friction of his shaft, the rad burns scraping your insides up. Clit aching and so wet you’re dripping, a damp patch of earth beneath you.

“No, promise I’ll be good!” You pant, the scent of sunbaked soil and stagnant water heavy in your nose. “Please, please, please.”

Everything aches, limbs sore from your tussle and pride bruised as sweat dapples your brow, sticks the fine baby hairs to the back of your neck.

A hand clamps down on your hip so hard bones grind, yanking you back into every punishing thrust. Heavy balls smack against your clit on the in-stroke, stoking the embers of your desire. Your toes curl in your boots.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, bunny.” The Ghoul grabs your elbow with his free hand, tugging you up into his chest so his chin hooks over your shoulder, breath puffing along the side of your cheek. “You just don’ know when ta learn. So I’m gonna have’ta teach you. An’ I’ll do it as many times as it takes, you hear?”

You sniffle, nuzzling the back of your head against his face. “I mean it,” you say. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know there’d be any ferals around. Was just trying to find some more food.”

Groaning, his hips kick forward in a softer grind, still so deep you feel him in your stomach - pussy filled to the brim with cock - but not as harsh as before. As close as you’ll get to an apology until he’s done.

“This is your fault - you got ‘em all riled. Now, we gotta make you smell like me so take your punishment like a good bunny 'fore I decide ta eat you instead.”

And you do, letting him rut into you until he’s satisfied, aching and so swollen by the end of it that he has to bully his way in with every thrust, your pussy clamping down and milking him for all he’s worth.

When he finally does pump you full, you’re dumb and dripping. Limp limbed and sagging into the ground - only held up by the cage of his arms. Thighs shaking and clit pulsing in time with your heartbeat as he wrings every last bit of pleasure out of you.

“Sometimes,” he says, sitting back on his heels to watch as his cum oozes out of you in a sticky rush, dripping down your folds, “I think dumb bunnies like you are only good fer one thing.”

You whine when his thumb whispers over your clit, caressing your folds as he gathers up his spend. Gently fucks it back into you with shallow thrusts of his fingers. 

“But that’s all right, I like ‘em a lil dumb.”

[callahanisms]

all you need is more radaway

save a horse. ride a cowboy. ;)

anyways i really loved the tv show and i love the game. and ghouls are just chef's kiss. or maybe that's because i love monsters. sad that i finished it so quickly. :(

perhaps i can put what i learned in my western class to good use lol

character: cooper howard aka. the ghoul

it's never easy surviving the wasteland. you don't know how you managed to survive for this long. perhaps because you seemed to have been blessed with incredible luck.

and building up endurance, of course.

you felt little to no side effects from the radiation of the food you were eating. which just meant you had a lot of radaway and rad-x stocked up.

to make ends meet, though, you had to start hunting. scavenging and scrapping by wasn't enough. you needed the extra caps.

thus your rivalry with another bounty hunter was born.

"well, well. aren't you far from home, sweetheart?"

you were used to comments about your outfit. a vault suit. yes, you came from one. you had been exiled after your father was revealed to be managing the experiment behind it. the child pays for the sins of the father always.

"you're not the first and you won't be the last." you pull the head off the body as clean as possible.

"now i don't know if you should do that."

"and why not?"

a bullet flies past you and burrows itself into the ground. you finally look up. a cowboy hat. the face of a ghoul. his gun pointing right at you.

but you weren't afraid.

"because he's my target." he pulls out a piece of paper. "and he's mine."

"seems unfair if i did all the work. and you just collect his head and the prize." you pull out the same piece of paper. yours is a little more worn out though. and covered in dried blood.

"that's the way of the wasteland sweetheart."

"if you believe so."

your hands were fast. two bullets lodged into his right left and when he looks up, you're gone.

of course, you learned from the best: western holotapes. you really liked them when you were growing up. claimed to want to be a lone hero.

in some ways, you were. the wasteland was just a new version of the wild west, wasn't it?

"spaghetti? like...the pasta?"

more like spaghetti western. he knew that, of course. but no one in the wasteland knew what a spaghetti western was. they were remnants of a past long gone and one only accessible by holotapes in the vaults.

"that's their name." the person says. "why? you have business with them?"

"perhaps." the ghoul was looking to return a favor.

"don't even try. they're far more formidable than you think."

"we'll see about that."

your rivalry was an exchange of bullets, more often than not. thankfully, you always stocked up on bloodbags and could make a stimpack from your heavy (but useful) travel chemistry kit. you were smart like that.

surprisingly, it became something to look forward. mostly because the ghoul preferred if he tried killing you, so he managed to get you out of a tough situation by killing the other people trying to kill you.

and you returned the favor. there was something satisfying about lodging a bullet into him again.

unfortunately, this left you two stuck on a job once. captured by raiders. you had been knocked out with a drug. and he had collapsed from...something.

"fuck." you mutter, pulling at the ropes binding you. your luck had run out for the day it seems, because your arms were tied to the ghoul's around this godforsaken pole. the metal was also uncomfortably rubbing up against your skin.

"you got a knife or anything sharp?" he looks over at you. it's rare to see him without his cowboy hat. his head was rather smooth.

you chuckle a little.

"something funny?" the ghoul asks.

"nothing. you're just...shaped like an egg."

"very funny."

"let me guess. your answer is no?"

"i don't have a knife up my sleeve, sadly. think they took it."

"shame." the ghoul shimmies something out of his own sleeve. he flicks the blade out and begins sawing at the rope. "watch your fingers."

you keep your fingers tucked in. eventually, the rope on your wrists comes undone and one arm soon after. the rest comes off and you rub your skin. "fuck these guys. always hated raiders."

"well, we both got sold out. we need to find that thing now. or else we'll be dead by sunrise." he tugs on the door of the jail cell and clicks his tongue.

"i don't have sharp objects. but i do have these." you pull out the bobby pin taped on the inside of your sleeve, alongside a mini screwdriver.

the lock wasn't very complicated, so you picked it with ease.

as you both are grabbing your equipment, you hear footsteps up above. light ones and heavier ones. and the sound of a muffled, altered, robotic voice.

the brotherhood of steel was worse than raiders, honestly.

"you go left, i go right. how does that sound?"

"i don't usually like taking orders from my rivals." he reloads his gun. "but for you? sure."

the event left the both of you soaked in the blood of your enemies. on the other hand, you guys left with plenty of loot and an idea of where your target was: dead. at the bottom of a lake.

it was a journey to get there, wherein you learned the details of each other's lives. you didn't think he was paying much attention to your sentences. after all, you came from a vault.

and yet, you saw a hint of sympathy in his eyes.

he seemed less keen on sharing details about his life, aside from his former name. cooper howard.

undeniably, as a fan of westerns, you recognized his names. from the holotapes.

"they had those?" cooper shakes his head, taking sips of water. "no way."

"yes way! it's where i learned to shoot."

"from watching my movies?"

"yes!"

"that is...a pleasant surprise." cooper leans back.

"that also makes you over 200 years old."

"that it does. something wrong with that?"

"no. the wasteland changes people." you maintain your attention to your suit, sewing a tear up. "just...you're looking for something, aren't you? everyone's always looking for something up here."

"are you looking for something?" his voice hardens and he sits up straight.

"i was. and then i found it. and i stopped." you tie the thread to seal the stitch and then tear the thread with your teeth. "i hope you find what you're looking for though."

"well, that's awfully kind of you, sweetheart."

"i have a name, you know."

"what is it?"

"(y/n)."

getting personal in the wasteland was something cooper wasn't adamant about. but the circumstances seems to call for it.

"guess we're even now."

the body of water was daunting. it was murky and dark. you pursed your lips and dumped your bag. "well. guess we have no choice."

cooper looks over at you then quickly turns around when he sees what you're doing: taking off your suit and going down to your underwear. "what are you doing?"

"i'm going to go get that head. that's how we get paid, right? easy three thousand caps. 15 hundred split evenly." you stretch.

"i think you might die."

"i'll be fine. i've done it before." Aquaperson perk.

"i can also swim, you know."

"i'll be fine cooper." you pop a rad-x pill just in case. "be back in a bit."

you dive like a swan, making minimal splash into the water. your form disappears beneath the darkness.

you're gone beneath the water for over an hour. cooper's heart was beating against his rib cage. you should be out by now. it should not be that hard. did something get you? things lurked beneath the murky waters always.

"fuck!"

he drops his equipment and begins stripping down, until he is just in his pants. he would need to dive after you. if you were dead, then so be it. it was fun while it lasted.

suddenly, you emerge. you take in the oxygen of the surface and hold the head up high. "got 'em." you swim over to the shore and walk out of the water.

there was something about how...wet you were that got him feeling hot and bothered.

"something happen down there?"

"couple of mirelurks. no big deal. which reminds me." you set the head on the ground and go back into the water. within minutes, you're pulling out the bodies of the mirelurks you had killed. "dinner."

while cutting the mirelurks open, you observe the way he walks around you. his muscles bulging a little as he cuts a mirelurk open and takes the meat. he was kind of...attractive?

"were you going to come after me?" he stops cutting hearing your question. "in the water, i mean."

"so what if i did?" cooper averts his eyes.

"that's sweet of you. i didn't know you had a soft spot for me."

"i don't."

"sure." you can tell he was lying through his teeth.

dinner was a nice, cozy meal. it was delicious. a nice surprise considering the nature of the wasteland.

cooper notices the way you're looking at him. and he looks at you the same way.

though how does this work exactly?

"do you want to..." you try to find a decent way to say this. fuck is a good term. but it felt a little vulgar in the moment.

cooper already knows what you're asking. "absolutely. if you can handle it." he smirks.

it's so cute when he smirks.

you glance over at your bag, looking at your stash of radaway. you had plenty. plus your stash of rad-x too.

"i absolutely can."

[shadowkoo]

disgraceful dreams

→ Summary: After two years of lustful pining and disgraceful dreams about someone far out of your reach, you decide the only way to move past your hopeless crush on Onyx Academy's star student is by taking part in the Lupercalia festival for the very first time.

↠ wooyoung x f.reader (feat. yeosang) | 16.4k words | 18+ ↠ genre: witch/warlock au, smut, virgin!reader, inspired by s2e3 of caos, slowburn

→ Full Fic Warnings: little bit of social class discrimination, cult-ish behavior (mentions of blood, Y/N uses a knife to cut her hand for binding/ritual purposes), being ‘hunted’ like prey, explicit sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, pet names, praise kink, biting, nipple play, breast play, begging, fingering, mutual masturbation, oral (female and male receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, partial agoraphilia & semi-public sex, dirty talk, heavy teasing, spanking, multiple orgasms, grinding, deep dicking, size kink (wooyoung is HUNGGG), magical sex, fucking up against a tree, slight age gap (y/n is 20 and wooyoung is 25), slight corruption, choking, possessive!wooyoung, woo is ravenous for you (you’re welcome)

→ Networks: tagged below

@ksmutsociety @k-vanity @pirateeznet @cromernet

@illusionnet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @cultofdionysusnet

→ Author Note: edited by the lovely aeris @beomcoups whom i appreciate so SO much for tackling this beast of a fic ILY! And also to ally @lovetaroandtaemin for reading this over for me!!! this doesn’t follow the exact lupercalia process, i’ve twisted it to work for my fic and based it around halloween instead of valenbarf day lol, if you'd prefer to read on ao3, it's been crossposted here!! all likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated <3

‘This can’t be real.’

Jung Wooyoung casts a dark look upon you while taking in your ethereal, naked form before him. The flames of the common room’s fireplace dance in his eyes, reflecting his sinister and most impure thoughts. Thoughts of you, what he wants to do to you. With you.

‘I must be dreaming.’

He circles around you, hovering over your backside and letting his hands fall to your bare hips. His touch leaves a trail of goosebumps across your skin.

“Mmm, can I touch you?” Wooyoung whispers as he leans in to kiss the dip between your shoulder and neck.

You nod, giving him permission to do whatever he pleases, and lean back against his broad chest.

His hands move from your side, one moving upward to cup your breast, the other heading down between your legs, gently tracing your silky skin until his fingers find their way home and sink into your sweet center.

The sensation awakens you from your sinful slumber, and you sigh, realizing it was only a dream—another delicious and depriving dream that left you wanting someone who would never consider you.

Groaning, you force yourself to roll out of bed and step toward your closet. Black Mass isn’t for another hour, but arriving early might help erase these recurring dreams from your memory.

Your footsteps echo in the empty hall as you exit the residential wing, making your way outside. It’s a beautiful gloomy day, the air is crisp and the sun is hidden by thick clouds that look as if they could open up at any moment and soak the woods with another harsh day of rain - something you wouldn’t mind.

The fog creeps through the forest, following your steps and trailing behind while you wait for your familiar to catch up. Besides your raven’s distant cry, it’s quiet. The hum of the earth’s magic is even more reserved than usual. It’s peacefully eerie.

“Ghoul Morning, Blair,” you say, extending your wrist out for her. She caws from above and slowly descends from the clouds, eagerly accepting your arm as the safe place to perch while you walk along the path to the Unholy Church.

Though she looks like a raven while masked, Blair wreaks havoc in her goblin form on anyone, and anything, that dares to disturb you. She’s one of the strongest familiars a witch could be cursed with, and you’ve been thankful for her services ever since you started training.

It’s your second year attending The Onyx Academy of Dark Casting, a magical finishing school that only the finest witches and warlocks between the ages of nineteen and twenty-five are given the unholiest privilege to attend.

Of these students, the Dark Stars of each class lead with their high values and spectacular spell casting. More often than not, they graduate with the highest dishonor and ascend to become High Priests and Priestesses of covens across the world.

Jung Wooyoung is a beloved Dark Star and stellar student, and it’s rumored that he’ll become the youngest Anti-Pope inducted into the Church of Night after his completion here at the academy.

Even with your unique gift, it’s not in the cards for a person of your status to ever equal his. Which you very well know and understand, despite the dark fantasies that haunt you most nights and your schoolgirl crush that hasn’t gone away since the very first day you met him.

Blair lets out a sharp caw, her wings cutting through the air as she ascends, perching gracefully on the steeple just as you arrive at the church. Her dark silhouette stands stark against the sky, watching over you like a silent sentinel.

The towering doors creak open as you approach them, welcoming you inside the dim space. You walk between the rows of pews, watching the candles that mark the aisle light up as you pass.

Once closer to the altar, you lift a hand and wave it across the front of the sanctuary. The room becomes brighter as the remaining unlit candles grow flames from your magic.

You have a way with the elements; you’re able to manipulate and control them as you wish without specific spells, conjuring them when you please. Your energy is unmatched compared to the other gifted students.

Yet, instead of improving your social status, being gifted has made you even more of an outcast. The professors are wary of your potential and what you could be capable of; the students keep their distance too, either jealous or frightened of your power.

Needless to say, you’re not Miss Popular, but that doesn’t bother you as much as it could. Only the luckiest of witches and warlocks are disgraced with gifts from the Dark Lord, and having chosen you out of everyone means something. And knowing the Dark Lord chose you is enough.

You settle into your usual pew, the familiar creak of the wooden bench under you blending into the background as your mind begins to churn. Thoughts swirl of today’s impending announcement during Father Blackmoor’s sermon cross your mind.

The excitement for Lupercalia is beginning to build. This ancient festival, celebrated by all magic wielders the week leading up to Halloween, is dedicated to the Goddess Peralia, who blesses covens with enhanced health, virility, and fertility in exchange for an indelicate offering. Participants must engage in a series of ritualistic events celebrating lust and sexuality, transforming the festival into a vibrant expression of desire and intimacy. Only then will she offer her unholiest blessing.

You sit there, not in prayer, but in a quiet storm of contemplation, unsure if you will sign up for the festival this year. Another downfall to being viewed as an outsider is that you have yet to experience, well, anything. Sure, you might have kissed a couple of warlocks in your intermediate years, you even had a boyfriend in prep school whom you were convinced you could have loved eventually, but your virtue has yet to be given away.

It’s common for witches and warlocks to lose their virginity during Lupercalia; typically when they are in prep school. In fact, it’s encouraged. Yet, by age twenty, you still haven't mustered the courage to join in the festivities.

This year might be different…

The sudden crash of books jolts you from your thoughts. You turn to see Yeosang, a fellow student, crouched beside a toppled stack of The Book of Blood, its pages splayed open.

“My apologies; I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he says, a hint of embarrassment in his voice as he scrambles to gather the scattered volumes. His cheeks flush slightly, and you can't help but smile softly.

He’s a sixth-year student, just like Wooyoung. Yet, where Wooyoung’s presence demands your attention with an almost suffocating charisma, Yeosang embodies a more reserved demeanor. He tends to stick to his tight-knit group of friends and immerses himself in his studies, radiating a quiet intensity that draws you in without overwhelming you.

You feel a wave of annoyance wash over you as soon you realize that even in the presence of another man, your thoughts keep drifting back to Wooyoung. It frustrates you to no end, pushing you to a spontaneous decision: this year will finally be the year you break free from this obsession. By participating in Lupercalia, you’re determined to finally move on from him once and for all.

“Don’t worry about it,” you reply, “The Dark Lord has already provided me with the clarity I came here for.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says, carefully restacking the last book. He glances to his left, likely considering the seat he usually occupies, before turning back to you. “Would you mind if I joined you?” he asks, a hopeful note in his voice as he gestures toward the space beside you.

“Not at all, please do,” you smile.

He settles beside you with an effortless grace, and the air around you immediately fills with the warm, intoxicating blend of amber and musk from his cologne. The scent is rich, almost magnetic, pulling your attention in ways you hadn’t anticipated. You fidget with your hands, trying to focus on anything but how good he smells, as your mind races to keep pace with your quickening heartbeat.

Maybe... you could partner with Yeosang for the festival. The thought lingers as you steal a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He’s undeniably handsome—sharp features that give him a striking, confident look, but it’s his kindness that really stands out. There’s a warmth in the way he carries himself, a subtle softness behind those strong eyes that makes him more than just attractive. You wonder what it would be like to lose your virginity to someone like him, someone who seems both strong and thoughtful in all the right ways.

"Are you sure you are okay? You seem a little tense," he asks, his voice laced with genuine concern as his eyes search your face. You hesitate to answer, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks, and though you're trying to keep your composure, your breath has grown a little quicker, more shallow.

Thankfully, he’s kind enough not to mention it, but you catch the flicker of awareness in his gaze. His words are gentle, but there's an underlying curiosity there—like he's not just asking out of politeness but because he genuinely cares. You try to steady yourself, aware of the closeness between you, and suddenly the air feels heavier as if the moment itself is holding its breath, waiting for your next move.

"I didn’t mean to pry if it’s personal," he quickly adds, his voice softening as he notices your hesitation. His words have a touch of urgency, and he backtracks, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. His shifts slightly, giving you space while still holding onto the moment, unsure whether to push further or retreat.

"Can I tell you a secret?" The words escape your lips before you even realize what you’ve said. For a moment, you freeze, caught off guard by your sudden vulnerability. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but there’s no turning back now.

Yeosang nods and softly says, “Of course.”

“I’ve…never participated in Lupercalia,” you admit guardedly.

“Oh, um. That’s, uh…” He’s visibly taken aback when he hears your confession, stumbling over his words. “Wow, I… I wasn’t expecting that.”

He shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, uh, that’s really something. I just, uh… I guess I never saw you as someone who hadn’t, you know, participated.” He draws out the last word, his tone heavy with the unspoken meaning.

You nod, trying to meet his eyes. “I know, it’s just… I never felt called to join in on the festivities in previous years. But lately, that feeling has… changed.”

“Oh. Right, yeah, I get it. So you’ll be signing up for the events this year?” He asks with a calm, collected voice, though he’s concerned that the quickened rhythm of his heartbeat betrays his calm facade.

Hearing your confession piques his interest. He’s always found you hauntingly beautiful and has enjoyed the casual conversations you’ve shared between classes and such, but today feels different.

He knew you didn’t actively participate last year, though he figured you were still doing something-someone-in private. Now that your secret is out, there's something undeniably more intriguing about you—an unexpected allure that wasn’t there before.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it.”

“I think you should,” he blurts out, then quickly adds, “What I mean is, the festival’s about self-expression and the intimacy you share along the way. If you’re looking for a wild introduction to Lupercalia, there will be plenty of opportunists who share that venereal vision. But if you want something more comforting…choose someone who makes you feel safe and respected for your first time.” Yeosang trails off, his gaze lingering a little too long, the implication unmistakable. He clears his throat, trying not to give himself and his intentions away.

“Thank you, Yeosang,” you say while resting a hand above his knee, genuinely appreciating his insight.

Before the conversation can continue, the sound of footsteps echoes through the Church as fellow students file in, taking their seats. Black Mass is about to begin.

Wooyoung hadn’t intended to listen in on your conversation. He was too busy waiting for the other Dark Stars to arrive at the closed-off sanctuary to finish preparing for Black Mass. As usual, they didn’t show up early despite his suggestions. That’s a lie; he knew his words were less like suggestions and more like demands.

He was well aware they’d be late today, especially since most of the fifth and sixth years had spent the night at an intimate pre-Lupercalia party that stretched into dawn.

The only reason he peeked through the shadows was due to a loud crash, which he soon realized came from Yeosang, who appeared entranced by someone sitting near the front of the Church. That’s when he noticed it was you.

He’ll admit to having observed you over the past year—not out of personal interest, but because he’s intrigued by your unique gift and curious as to why the Dark Lord chose you of all people. Yes, you’re undeniably attractive as most witches are, but your ability to manipulate pure power without relying on spellwork is, to him, the most compelling quality you possess. If you had the right social standing, you would likely ascend to the role of High Priestess in a very fortunate coven.

From his hidden vantage point, he watches as his friend settles down beside you; that’s when the conversation begins.

“I’ve…never participated in Lupercalia,” he hears you share your secret. Now that is quite a confession.

Wooyoung’s lips curl into a smirk as he observes your flushed face from a distance, the rosy hue contrasting with the cold room that surrounds you. There’s a spark of mischief in his eyes as he takes in the way you shift nervously, completely unaware of his gaze.

Knowing that you haven’t been touched stirs a mix of amusement and curiosity within him. He wonders what thoughts are racing through your mind, feeling a strange sensation rush through him when you place your hand on his classmate’s thigh.

He saw no reason to hold back from participating. The moment he came of age, he dove in—and he’s done so every year since, always finding ways to revel in the experience to the fullest. As he reflects on past encounters, a pleased smile crosses his face as he silently counts the number of popped cherries he’s collected over the last several seasons, each a vivid memory weaved into his mind.

‘What’s one more…’

As more students trickle in and take their seats, the soft murmur of conversation fills the air. Wooyoung senses the moment is right and slips out of the shadows just as Father Blackmoor begins to walk down the aisle, weaving between the pews filled with eager faces. The flickering candlelight dances on the stone walls, casting a warm glow that contrasts with the coolness of the sanctuary.

He moves to stand on the left of Father Blackmoor, joining the other Dark Stars who are trying to stifle their yawns. The collective fatigue from the previous night’s festivities hangs in the air, but a shared excitement simmers beneath the surface. He exchanges brief glances with his fellow Stars, a silent acknowledgment of their late-night revelry and the anticipation of what today’s ceremony will bring.

“Fiends and Friends, today marks the beginning of our annual Lupercalia Festival,” Father Blackmoor announces, his voice resonating through the crammed Church. “As you all know, Lupercalia is upon us. I can feel the excitement buzzing in the air. The Festival of Wolves is a cherished tradition within our coven, and we take immense pride in honoring Goddess Peralia through a series of exhilarating rituals, all in hopes of receiving her unholiest blessings. With that in mind, let’s review the week’s events for those of you who are new to our practices.”

Father Blackmoor pauses to take an envelope from Wooyoung. “Tomorrow marks the start of the Assessment Period, which will be held in the Grand Hall. Witches who sign up today will be quizzed by prospective partners in hopes of finding their ideal match.”

“Courting begins on Tuesday. Those interested in a specific witch will reserve time slots to spend more time together. By the end of the night, the warlocks must submit the names of the witches they wish to be paired with. This will be followed by the Matching Ceremony on Wednesday, where the pairs will be revealed to the entire coven. On Thursday, we’ll have the Moon Ritual, during which the paired couples will venture into the darkwood to complete the rite. More specific details will be shared on the day, but they are expected to spend the night together beneath the moon in unholy abstinence.”

Some students snicker, knowing very well they won’t be abstaining from anything that night.

Father Blackmoor waits for the room to settle down before continuing, “Friday ushers in the Insatiable Hunt at dusk, where wolf-masked warlocks will chase after their red-cloaked witches through the woods, culminating in divine pleasure once they’ve been caught. We’ll conclude the week of festivities on Saturday with the Final Feast, where we will express our gratitude to Goddess Peralia for her many blessings this season.”

Wooyoung steps forward once more, this time carrying an ancient, leather-bound tome. The worn edges and faded lettering hint at its age and significance.

It’s the Book of Blood; which contains hundreds of Witches and Warlock's printed names, signed with their crimson ink, as a binding commitment to their word. It’s like a contract between yourself, the entire coven, and the Dark Lord himself.

With a practiced hand, he carefully cracks it open, his eyes sweeping across the room. “Witches that dare to participate, please step forward, say your intent, and sign your name in the Book of Blood.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you push yourself to your feet, joining the line of participants ahead of you. A mix of excitement and nerves swirl in your stomach, each step bringing you closer to the moment you've been both dreading and anticipating.

The weight of curious eyes fall on you as you move, but none more intense than Yeosang's. His gaze feels like a spotlight, cutting through the crowd around him.

With each passing second, your pulse quickens as the line inches forward at a deathly slow pace. Every breath feels shallow, as if the air is too thick for your lungs to handle. Despite the knot of nerves tightening in your belly, your feet move on their own, as if guided by some force beyond your control.

Before you even realize it, you’re standing before Wooyoung. His eyes pierce down onto you while he hands you a knife, “Do you hereby pledge your full participation and commitment to the forthcoming Lupercalia festival and all associated events?”

Taking a deep breath, you respond, “Yes, I pledge myself.”

You take the knife from him, feeling the cold steel as you press the sharp blade into your palm. With a swift motion, you slice a clean, precise line across your skin. Ruby-red blood wells up, pooling in your cupped hand. Without hesitation, Father Blackmoor raises his hand, his dark magic swirling in the air as he draws the blood from your palm. It twists and shapes into the form of a pen, glowing faintly with a sinister aura, ready to be used.

You reach up and grasp the hovering pen, its energy vibrating through your hand. As you sign your name in the book, a surge of adrenaline floods your veins, electrifying every nerve. The moment the ink dries, you feel an undeniable shift. Something deep within you has been awakened.

Wooyoung smirks, knowing the sensation very well. “There’s no backing out now,” he says to you, his gaze locking onto yours, sharp and unrelenting.

“So,” Jongho, a second-year student like yourself, pauses to clear his throat after pulling on his tie, “That was awful.”

You chuckle, relieved to see you're not the only one with frayed nerves. “Yeah, good luck with the rest of them.”

He smiles back before shuffling along to the next person.

It’s Assessment Day, and every witch who signed their name is being rigorously questioned by the participating warlocks. Friends who had gone through this in previous years warned you about what to expect, and they were right. It’s definitely a forced mingling period on steroids.

It’s only been an hour, and you’re already exhausted of the routine of answering questions filled with probing and uncomfortable inquiries that delve into personal preferences. Over and over again, you're forced to confront touchy subjects, as if each question is designed to peel away the layers of your desires, as if you know.

The process feels more like an interrogation than a mere assessment, testing not just your patience, but your lack of knowledge on the subject at hand—sex.

The situation would be far less awkward if you didn't have to sit directly across from someone to verbally review the list. After each question, it’s mandatory to respond in one of the following ways: Agree - you give consent to the matter being discussed with the current party; Acknowledge - it is a potential option, and you give partial consent or Decline - no consent is given.

You pick at your fingernails while you wait for the next warlock.

“Penny dreadful for your thoughts?” You glance up to see Yeosang sliding into the seat across from you, with a broad smile spread across his handsome face.

“Oh, hi!” you say, doing your best to not sound startled. “Just wondering when all of this will be over, you know?” you continue, waving your arms around.

“Yeah, this part of the process isn’t the most comfortable. But I understand why it’s necessary,” he comments while leaning forward on the table. “Have the others been respectful?”

“Oh, yes. Yeah, everyone has been nice. I’m learning how many students I’ve never spoken to before,” you reply lightheartedly.

"Shall we begin?" Yeosang asks with a playful glint in his eyes, nodding toward the paper resting between you on the table, waiting for your cue to dive in.

Just as he reaches to pick up the list of desires to discuss, his movement is halted by the sudden arrival of Wooyoung, whose presence instantly commands attention.

He strides up to your table with his usual confidence, a grin tugging at his lips. The conversation shifts before it even begins, as Wooyoung’s energy pulls both your attention toward him without saying a word.

Yeosang lowers the paper, his eyes flicking between you and Wooyoung, sensing the inevitable distraction.

“Father Blackmoor has requested your presence in the Anti-Sacristy,” Wooyoung announces, handing him a miniature scroll with a secret message.

Yeosang frowns while reading it over, “Please excuse me.”

"Of course, I hope everything's alright," you murmur, though your words go unheard as he's already on his feet, moving swiftly toward the door.

Watching Yeosang rush out, you suddenly realize Wooyoung is still standing there. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, and he tilts his head, studying you with a curious intensity.

"Seems like you require a partner," he says with a smirk, sliding effortlessly into Yeosang’s chair without missing a beat.

You’re too stunned to respond and shift uncomfortably in your seat, completely unsure of what to do in this situation. He’s not offering to go through the questionnaire, is he?

Somehow, you forgot that you would, at some point, have to converse with Wooyoung today. It entirely slipped your mind up until this moment. And now he’s here without giving you time to prepare. You start to breathe a little heavier, and a slight sense of panic sets in.

“Why are you acting like that?” He says with a raised eyebrow, noticing your bouncing leg (a nervous habit of yours that annoyingly shows up at the worst possible moments.)

“I’m not sure what you mean?” Well, yes, you do but you won’t admit that. But your hyperventilating and antsy body might tell a different story.

“Yeah, right,” he rolls his eyes.

Your eyes lock on Wooyoung’s as he casually picks up the page. Without waiting for your reaction, he glances at the list and reads off the first item, his voice smooth and confident.

"How does each party feel about blood play; drawing blood by use of knives or other sharp weaponry, smearing blood, using blood as a lubricant, and/or tasting blood?" he reads off, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he waits for your response.

"I acknowledge," you reply with hesitation in your voice, uncertain whether you’re truly opposed to it, yet not entirely sure if you fully consent either. “And you?”

Wooyoung tilts his head again, “Do you really need to ask?”

"You and I both know there are specific rules to follow here," you say, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed, eyes fixed on him with a mixture of challenge and caution. And, if you’re being completely honest, there’s a hint of annoyance now too. The nervousness from earlier has vanished entirely.

“Fair enough,” "he replies with a nonchalant sigh, “I agree.��

It’s your turn to read off the next item. “Does each participating student consent to bringing in other parties to join and/or watch your sexual relations? And additionally, joining others.” You look up toward Wooyoung, already expecting him to agree to those terms.

“Decline,” he states firmly, his voice dropping an octave as he adds, “I don’t share.”

You try to mask your shock, but the expression slips through.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he huffs.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I also decline.”

He nods curtly, and you swear you hear him mutter "good" under his breath.

You breeze through the next set of questions surprisingly fast, both providing the appropriate answers as you work your way down the page.

At first, Wooyoung seemed a bit disinterested, but something caused his attitude to shift. Now, he’s more engaged, genuinely listening to your reasonings whenever you offer it.

“Last question, how many sexual partners have each participating party had?”

As he finishes speaking, you narrow your eyes at him, “That question isn’t on the list.” You’ve practically memorized them all by now. “You’re making that up.”

“So? Answer anyway,” he dares.

You glare at him, silently debating whether or not you should tell the truth. “Screw it,” you exhale, “None.”

Instead of the shock or teasing you expect, he simply blinks at you, as if he already knew what your answer would be.

But how…

When you wake the next morning, butterflies are already fluttering in your stomach. At this point, it’s hard to judge who will end up courting you, though you have a pretty good idea that Yeosang is interested. When he returned after visiting Father Blackmoor, you two had quite a connection while going through the assessment list.

You’ll find out for sure when you make it to the Dining Hall the courting schedule will be pinned on the announcement board for everyone to view.

You decide to grab a pastry and wait for the crowd around the schedule to thin out before checking how many dates you will have today. To keep things relatively fair, each witch is only allowed to have up to five courting suitors. A flicker of nerves sets in—what if no one reserved one of your time slots?

For the love of Lucifer, please let me have at least one warlock courting me.

You shove the last bite into your mouth and make your way to the board, eager to find out. Peeking around the remaining heads blocking your view, you spot that two of your time slots have already been reserved. Just as you’re trying to make out the names, someone taps you on the shoulder.

“Ghoul morning, Y/N,” Yeosang says with a smile, handing you a card. Your heartbeat picks up, recognizing the formality; courting warlocks are required to provide the witches with a card that essentially confirms their date.

“Hi, Yeosang!” You beam. Praise Satan.

He looks relieved when you accept his card. “I was hoping to see you this morning. Meet me at the Weeping Willow at three o’clock this afternoon. I have a special activity planned for us.”

You’re about to respond when you can feel his presence. Turning to look over your shoulder, you see Wooyoung standing closely behind. He towers over you, staring down Yeosang.

“Do you need something?” you ask, bringing his attention back to you while silently begging that he’s not here to send Yeosang away again, like yesterday.

“Yes,” he extends a hand, offering you a card. You stare at it in disbelief. He’s not here to steal Yeosang; he’s stealing you.

Wooyoung is your other suitor.

“I believe you’re meant to spend the morning with me.” Wooyoung’s eyes drift from yours and back to Yeosang’s, who tenses beside you. They seem to have a silent exchange of words.

“I see,” Yeosang says curtly, “Enjoy your time together.”

Before you have a chance to say anything Yeosang already disappears. Damn it.

“Come on, follow me,” Wooyoung demands while grabbing your wrist. He leads you down the dim, shadowy hallways of the school before picking up the pace as you leave the safety of the school, heading into the woods.

The thick trees close in around you, and the air feels heavier with each step. Fog swirls at your feet but mysteriously clears a path ahead of him like it knows exactly where he's going. You follow, feeling the cool, damp air cling to your skin. The deeper you go, the more unfamiliar the landscape becomes—you don’t recognize this part of the woods at all, and a strange sense of unease settles over you.

“Bloody heaven, where are you taking me?” you huff, doing your best to keep up with his long strides.

“You’ll see,” he grumbles, helping you up when you trip over an exposed tree root. “Can you stop tripping every five seconds? You’re slowing us down, and we’re on a time crunch.”

You glare at the back of his head as he speeds up. What a dick.

It’s not long before you arrive at the destination; it’s a stone table in the middle of the woods. You look around suspiciously. “Is this a ritual site? Are you planning on killing me for some weird sacrificial thing now that you know I’m a virgin, or…?”

Wooyoung bursts out laughing, “The thought hadn’t crossed my mind, actually. This is a portal.”

“A portal? To where?” you ask, peering at the stone. It doesn’t look like any portal you’ve ever seen.

“Want to find out?” he offers a hand for you to take, and you grab it warily.

He places his other hand on the stone, and its magic instantly pulls you through the atmosphere, sending you spiraling toward an unknown destination.

When you land, your feet hit the damp cobblestone street with a soft thud. The air smells of rain and baked goods, and you take in the bustling scene around you—witches and warlocks are flowing in and out of quaint little shops that line both sides of the road, their chatter filling the air. The street is alive with energy, and everything looks both foreign and strangely charming.

Before you can fully absorb it all, Wooyoung tugs you along, his grip firm as your head swivels, trying to figure out exactly where you’ve been transported to. The unfamiliar cityscape seems like a dream, its details slipping through your grasp as you hurry to keep up.

Suddenly, you collide with his back, not realizing he has stopped. "Ouch," you mutter, rubbing your nose in surprise. You’re about to say more when something above catches your eye—the sign swinging in the breeze.

"Trahana’s Tomb!" you squeal, excitement bubbling up. For ages, you've wanted to visit this place, but something always got in the way. Now, here it is, right in front of you, and the thrill of finally arriving sends a rush through you.

Trahana is a renowned sorceress and writer known for her vast collection of grimoires, enchanted artifacts, and other rare occult items—many of which are now on display and for sale at her legendary store. You've been itching to get your hands on her coveted Book of Arcane Beasts, a tome filled with forbidden knowledge of magical creatures, their histories, and untold powers.

Wooyoung holds the door open for you, and without a second thought, you dash inside. Your eyes widen as you take in the towering shelves crammed with both ancient and new books. Every corner of the shop is overflowing with enchanted curiosities.

At the back of the shop, a narrow, spiraling staircase catches your eye. It likely leads to an upper level filled with even more treasures waiting to be explored. The thought of what might be hidden beyond tempts you, adding to the growing sense of wonder.

"Oh, my sweet, evil boy! How are you?"

You turn to see a tall, elegant woman pinching Wooyoung’s cheeks with an affectionate grin.

He swats her hands away, groaning, "Aunt Hana, you know I hate when you do that. I’m not five anymore."

She laughs, unbothered by his protest. "Oh, you'll always be the stubborn young warlock playing with the Acheron Configuration upstairs even when told it was off limits," she teases, her eyes twinkling with the memory. “Goddess knows how many hours you spent trying to crack that spell.”

She shifts her gaze to you, giving you a quick once-over before raising an eyebrow. "Don’t be rude, Wooyoung. Introduce me to your friend."

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, "Forgive me. This is Y/N, another student at Onyx Academy. Y/N, meet Trahana, the curator of this fine establishment and, unfortunately, my insufferable aunt."

Trahana smirks, ignoring his jab. "Charmed, I’m sure," she says, her eyes glinting with curiosity as she sizes you up.

"I need to get back to work, but it was a pleasure meeting you, darling," Trahana says with a warm smile, her voice dripping with a mix of elegance and mystery. She gives you one last appraising look before turning away, her long robes sweeping the floor as she glides effortlessly toward the front of the store. The air feels lighter without her presence, yet the sense of power she carries lingers, leaving you a little awestruck.

You gape at him once she’s out of earshot. "She’s your aunt?"

Wooyoung sighs, nodding with exaggerated patience. "Yes, I’m painfully aware."

"That’s so cool. So you spent a lot of time here growing up?" you ask, curious to learn more about him.

"Yeah," Wooyoung replies, glancing around the shop with a hint of nostalgia. "My parents traveled a lot for business when I was younger, so this place became like a second home. Now, I come back whenever I need a break from school. Plus, it’s a great place to study; there's something peaceful about the chaos here compared to the eerie silence of Onyx Academy’s library."

"That makes sense," you say, nodding as your fingers trail across the spines of the old books lining the tight aisle. The dust, the energy, and the soft hum of magic in the air make the shop feel alive, the perfect contrast to the academy’s cold, quiet halls. "I can see why you'd find this place comforting."

Wooyoung smiles, clearly more relaxed here than you've ever seen him. "It’s got a strange kind of charm, doesn’t it?" he says, his voice softer now as the two of you meander through the maze of shelves, discovering little pieces of history with every step.

He allows you to explore the shelves, letting you dive into the books that capture your interest. As you lean down to examine the aged pages, he watches as a loose strand of hair slips across your face, and you absently tuck it behind your ear.

"Can I show you something?" he asks, gently drawing you away from the book that’s captivated your attention.

You glance up at him, and to your surprise, he almost seems nervous. It’s a rare sight for someone who usually exudes such confidence. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, making you curious about what he wants to show you.

Nodding, you allow him to lead you toward another bookshelf two aisles away from where you were just standing. His gaze flicks across the titles, searching for something specific.

"Ah, here it is," he finally says, lifting his arm to reveal a book with a deep blue spine. You hear a soft click as he pulls it out slightly, followed by a faint unlocking sound. With a practiced motion, he shifts down to another shelf and pulls out a book with a green spine. To your astonishment, the entire bookcase creaks ominously before revealing a secret door.

"This whole day just keeps getting stranger by the minute. Is this another portal?" you ask, a mix of skepticism and humor in your voice.

Wooyoung grins playfully. "As entertaining as that would be, no. It’s not a portal. It’s my secret place."

You turn to look at him. "See, now that’s kind of worse. Now I really don’t want to go in." The idea of stepping into his hidden sanctuary feels more daunting than the prospect of another magical journey.

He gives you a look.

“Okay, fine. In I go,” you say, taking a step closer before reaching for the cold handle. As you turn it and push the door open, you peer into the darkness beyond, straining to gauge what lies within. And, if you have to be completely honest, wondering why it needs to be hidden away.

Wooyoung steps inside after you, snapping his fingers to conjure his magic. A bright orb of light flickers to life, glowing softly at first. As he guides it upward, it gradually brightens and rises to the center of the room, illuminating the hidden space with a warm, inviting glow. The walls are revealed and adorned with eclectic decorations and mysterious photographs, creating an enchanting and haunting atmosphere.

"What is this place?" you ask, your curiosity piqued as you step closer to a nearby table and spot a stack of photographs. You pick up the first few, admiring the artistic shots of a plant you recognize from your walks through the Darkwood—it's a Moonset Fern, captured in full bloom. You remember learning about it in Herbology 101 last year; it’s renowned for its ability to protect against ill-will spells.

Intrigued, you skim through the rest of the stack. Each photo showcases different plants, all with potent herbal properties, their images so carefully composed they almost seem to pulse with hidden power.

“So,” Wooyoung says nervously, “What do you think?”

“Of the photographs? I think they’re beautiful. You took these?” He nods. “I didn’t know you had an interest in photography. Or Herbology, for that matter.”

"It’s a secret interest. Obviously," Wooyoung says, gesturing around the room to emphasize his point. "Unfortunately, Father Blackmoor thinks it’s a complete waste of time. To him, this is the work of a lesser warlock." The distaste is evident in his voice, like the words themselves leave a bitter taste in his mouth. "He’d rather I focus on proving my potential to become the youngest Anti-Pope."

"Do you believe him?" you ask, watching his reaction closely.

"Am I even allowed to believe any different?" he replies, his tone a mix of resignation and defiance. He picks up a different stack of photos and flips through them, each holding a distant memory of a time he felt genuine joy.

"Part of me wishes I wasn’t destined for this life—that I had the power to shape my own future," Wooyoung admits, his voice heavy with conflicted emotion. "But then the other half of me hates myself for even thinking like that, especially after everything my family has sacrificed to get me here." His gaze drops, the weight of expectation clearly pressing down on him, caught between desire and duty.

“No one in the history of The Church of Night has ever turned down a position of power once they've received the proper training and hold the necessary status,” he continues, his tone growing darker. "I can’t even imagine the consequences of rejecting something like that." The mere thought seems to weigh on him, defying centuries of tradition would unravel everything—not just for him, but for everyone tied to his legacy.

“That’s a frustrating position to be forced into. Though, I hate to admit I’m jealous.”

His head snaps up, eyes locking onto yours, confusion and a flicker of anger etched across his face.

"I’ve spent my whole life not knowing what my future will look like," you begin, your voice tight with emotion. “I have all this power, yet no one can explain why I have it or what I’m supposed to do with it. I don’t have even the slightest clue where I’ll end up in life, so yeah, from that standpoint, I am a bit jealous of your situation," you admit, a hint of envy creeping into your voice.

As you speak, the anger in his expression gradually fades, replaced by a quiet understanding. His features soften, and you can see him truly considering your words, letting them sink in.

"At least you have a clear path laid out for you, even if it’s not exactly what you want. I’m still stumbling around, trying to figure out what my purpose even is. But even then..." your tone softens slightly, "If I were you, I wouldn’t let my sense of duty smother the passion I feel for another study—even if it’s an uncommon path for someone in my position.”

You begin again, your voice steady with conviction, "The Dark Lord wouldn’t have put this path in front of you if there wasn’t something here worth discovering. I’d bet there’s a connection between each path, and maybe, just maybe, you’re meant to do something with both. Something no one else has thought of yet.”

Wooyoung hadn’t thought of that.

“That’s just my two cents,” you sigh, setting the photos down and walking over to the next table with hundreds more to look through.

One photo in the middle of the pile catches your eye, standing out in a way the others don’t. You can’t quite place the plant; it’s unfamiliar, yet stirs a sense of deep nostalgia. It’s a rich olive green, with spiny stems and sharply pointed leaves giving it a menacing look. But what truly captivates you is the ethereal purple aura surrounding it, shimmering faintly, like the plant itself is alive with ancient magic. Something about it feels important, though you can’t recall ever seeing it before.

"It’s a Ghost Violaceae," Wooyoung murmurs softly, leaning in close over your shoulder. His breath is warm against your ear as he speaks, his voice slightly raspy. "It’s commonly used in the art of seduction." His words hang in the air, as mysterious as the plant itself, and the subtle intensity in his tone makes the air between you suddenly feel different.

Wooyoung would do unspeakable things to know the thoughts swirling in your mind right now. He’s desperate to unravel what it is that made you blush so fiercely, what’s causing your heart to race and your breath to quicken.

You turn slightly, looking up at him with your lips parted. Wooyoung tilts his head, his eyes sparkling as he tries to decipher the emotions playing across your face. There's a flicker of curiosity in your gaze, his focus sharpening as he leans in just a fraction closer…

The sudden ringing of a timer blares through the silence, startling you both. Your head snaps toward the sound and you see a stopwatch floating in midair, its rhythmic ticking a clear reminder that your time is almost up. It’s time to return to Onyx Academy to prepare for your next session with Yeosang.

Beside you, Wooyoung tenses, the atmosphere immediately changing. The warmth in his eyes vanishes as quickly as it has surfaced, replaced by the cold, guarded demeanor he typically fronts. His walls shoot back up, and just like that, the brief vulnerability between you disappears.

Blair eyes you curiously, her black feathers ruffled while she senses the secret you’re holding back. She’s perched on a low branch, watching as you wait beneath the cascading limbs of the Weeping Willow. You’ve arrived early, not finding any solace in the silence of your room after returning to campus. Yeosang should be here any minute, but the unease from earlier lingers.

Wooyoung had barely spoken after the stopwatch appeared, his mood darkening as he grudgingly led you back to the portal. He rushed you through without a word, his steps heavy with frustration, and stormed off toward the church once back on school grounds without so much as a goodbye.

You’ve been trying to clear your mind, focusing your energy on the upcoming session with Yeosang, but the tension from Wooyoung still simmers under the surface. You take a deep breath, determined to push it aside and give Yeosang your full attention. He deserves it.

Blair lets out a sharp caw before taking off into the sky, disappearing into the distance as soon as she senses his presence. She knows to give you your privacy, leaving you alone just as he approaches.

“Oh, you’re here already,” Yeosang says, a bit surprised to see you already by the willows. He steps forward, his happy expression growing as he extends a bouquet of dried wine-colored roses, elegantly tied with a black ribbon.

“These are for you.”

Your breath catches at the sight of them. "These are gorgeous. Thank you—wow," you say, smiling while gently taking the bouquet from his hands. The gesture feels intimate, the deep red petals catching the light as you admire them, warmth blooming in your chest at the unexpected kindness.

“You’re welcome. Do you want to apparate them to your room?” Yeosang suggests.

“That’s a good idea, actually,” you reply, lifting the bouquet in front of you. With a soft hum, you recite the incantation, watching as the flowers shimmer and disappear, transporting them to your bedside table in an instant.

“There,” you smile, “Now they’ll be waiting for me when I get back.”

“We have a short walk to our destination. If you’ll follow me?” Yeosang guides you up a path behind the willow grove, the incline leading to a breathtaking view of the Darkwood below. The forest stretches endlessly, its shadowy canopy glittering with ancient magic.

"Do you mind waiting here?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck, a hint of nerves flickering across his face. "I thought I'd have a little more time to set things up."

You smile softly. "I don’t mind at all."

Relieved, he excuses himself, disappearing back down the trail to retrieve whatever surprise he has planned. The minutes pass in peaceful quiet, the cool air brushing against your skin. You close your eyes, enjoying the moment, until a faint rustling behind you interrupts the calm energy. You glance over your shoulder, seeing nothing, and shrug it off—probably just the wind.

But then, movement at the edge of the tree line catches your eye, a shadowy figure slipping between the trees.

You step cautiously toward the movement, your heart beating a little faster with each quiet footstep. The air seems to thicken as you approach, a soft rustling continuing just beyond the nearest tree. You steady yourself, taking a slow breath before rounding the massive trunk.

Face to face with the culprit, you freeze—a pair of wide, curious eyes staring back at you. It's a small, ethereal creature, almost like a fox but with wisps of glowing mist trailing from its fur. Its translucent body shimmers faintly under the dappled light filtering through the trees.

You exhale in relief, it’s just another familiar. The creature’s gentle gaze is more inquisitive than threatening; and she tilts her head, trying to decide whether to flee or come closer, her silver eyes studying you with an almost childlike curiosity. The creature soon takes off, before you have a chance to ask who they belong to.

As you turn around, a startled cry escapes your lips—Wooyoung is standing just inches from you, his presence completely unexpected.

"What are you doing here?" you snap, your hand instinctively flying to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart.

"I'm not really here. Just astral projecting. And who’s to say I wasn’t here first?"

You cross your arms, glaring at him, clearly unimpressed.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I wasn’t here first," he concedes with a shrug, his smirk faltering under your withering stare.

"Yeosang is going to be back any second," you warn, narrowing your eyes. "Are you here to spy on us?"

"Pfff... no..." he says, though the lack of conviction in his voice makes you roll your eyes.

"Lame," you mutter, watching his poorly veiled attempt at denial fall apart. He shifts awkwardly under your gaze, clearly caught.

“I don’t like that you’re alone with him.”

“Why?”

“I told you already. I. Don’t. Share.”

“You can’t be serious,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “Is this just some kind of game? Are you playing with me because you don’t want Yeosang to have me? What is it, Wooyoung? You haven’t given me a second thought until two days ago.”

“It’s not like that—" Wooyoung starts, but the sound of rustling interrupts him, cutting his sentence short. Both of you turn, startled, as Yeosang emerges from the trees. His eyes sweep the clearing, looking for you since you aren’t standing where he left you. When he spots you, he smiles and approaches, carrying a woven basket in one arm and a blanket in the other.

You glance back toward Wooyoung, but he’s already vanished. Typical, slipping away before finishing what he started. Maybe he’s glad for the escape before you can grill him any further.

“Looking for something?”

‘More like someone,’ you think to yourself. “Oh sorry, I thought I saw a familiar, but it ran off,” you explain, brushing off the awkward moment. “So, what’s all this?” You gesture to the basket, quickly shifting the conversation before Yeosang has a chance to ask anything.

He grins, glancing down at his hands, a bit shy. "I hope you like picnics. I thought we could enjoy some treats and maybe get to know each other better."

“That sounds lovely,” you reply warmly.

Yeosang carefully picks a spot, spreading the blanket and the two of you sit side by side, the breathtaking view of the Darkwood stretching out below. There’s something serene about the quiet between you, the moment brimming with peaceful anticipation.

He sets the basket in front of you, lifting the lid to reveal an array of colorful sweets, the soft glow of the late afternoon sun reflecting off the glass jars inside. You notice delicate pastries, chocolates, and sugared fruits arranged neatly.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I brought a little of everything,” Yeosang says, his voice low but sincere.

Your heart warms at the gesture. "You’ve really outdone yourself,” you praise, picking up one of the pastries for yourself and offering another to him.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to bring up the scroll from yesterday. "I didn’t want to pry, but you left in such a rush yesterday. Was everything alright?" you ask before taking a bite.

Yeosang chuckles softly, as if amused by the memory. "Funny you should ask. Turns out, when I arrived at Father Blackmoor’s office, he had no idea what I was talking about. No urgent scroll was sent for me. But he thought it was good timing and wanted to discuss my plans for after I complete my time at the academy."

Your curiosity piques further. "And those plans are...?" you press, hoping he’ll open up.

Yeosang hesitates briefly, but then, with a slight smile, he reveals, "I’d like to teach, maybe. My father was a teacher, and he always said I had the same qualities. Plus, I love kids. I think teaching them the basics of magic—the very foundation of what they'll need for the rest of their lives—would be important work."

A soft breeze ruffles the edges of the blanket, and you can’t help but smile at his answer. "That sounds perfect for you. I can already picture you as a great mentor."

The rest of your evening with Yeosang flies by in a blur of conversation and quiet moments spent enjoying the view. Before you know it, he's walking you back to the dormitories. He hesitates as you both stop outside the door to the girls' dorms, clearly lingering on something unsaid.

"I just want you to know," he starts, shifting nervously, "that regardless of what happens tomorrow at the Matching Ceremony, I had a lovely time tonight. I'll see you tomorrow then."

Before you can respond, he leans down and presses a soft kiss on your cheek. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You barely manage to mumble a “goodnight” back, still caught in the trance from the warmth of his lips against your skin. As you make your way up to your room, your heart feels light, and you can’t help but smile even wider when you notice the flowers he gave you earlier—now arranged beautifully in a vase on your nightstand.

But something else catches your eye—a small, glimmering box sitting on your bed, illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight. You walk over to it and find a note attached in handwriting you immediately recognize.

Not a game to me – W

Your breath hitches as you find the book you had been eyeing earlier—the one Wooyoung had distracted you from in Trahana’s shop—alongside the newest edition of The Book of Arcane Beasts. Tucked neatly between the pages are a few of the photographs from his secret room; the ones you had admired without realizing he noticed.

Your heart races as you hold the items in your hands, the meaning of his gesture sinking in. It’s not just a game. Whatever this is with Wooyoung, it’s something real. And now, you're more conflicted than ever.

Yeosang steps closer to the flames that surge in the iron vessel before him, casting flickering shadows across his face while he waits. If you look closely, shapes begin to form within the flames, dancing and twisting as though something is being forged in the heat. A sudden flare of sparks erupts from the fire—it's ready.

With a steady hand, he pulls an envelope from the fire. The edges of the paper are still smoldering while he opens it with precision, watching as the magic ink slowly manifests on the paper, revealing a name.

You notice a brief, almost imperceptible frown cross his face, but it vanishes just as quickly. “Polly Petrify,” he announces smoothly, his voice steady, betraying nothing as he steps back into place.

Father Blackmoor gives a solemn nod, signaling his approval of the pairing.

The Church is packed for the Matching Ceremony, and a mix of excitement and nervous energy ripples through the crowd. The warlocks stand in front of the filled pews, their postures rigid and unreadable, while the witches occupy the first two rows of seats, eyes flickering with anticipation.

You sit among them, your heart sinking as Yeosang’s name is paired with another witch. The knot in your chest tightens, but before you have time to register how you truly feel, Wooyoung steps forward.

It’s his turn.

Time stretches unbearably as his fingers hover over the glowing envelope that emerges from the flames. He grasps it carefully, tearing it open before pulling out the slip of paper, the suspense in the room thickening with every second.

At least a dozen witches sit in eager anticipation, each one hopeful, their eyes flicking toward the altar, silently praying that their name will be the one called.

You watch his face intently, almost holding your breath.

The moment he reads the name, a subtle smile curls at the corner of his lips, making him look effortlessly gorgeous. His inky black hair falls in perfect disarray, and the deep blue sweater he’s wearing brings out a distinctive glimmer in his eyes—it’s definitely his color.

As he steps back in line to let the next warlock take their turn, you realize that you completely missed whose name he just called. You’ve been too busy gawking to notice. Leaning toward the witch beside you, you whisper, “Whose name did he say?”

She shoots you a scowl and snaps, “Yours.”

Your heart skips a beat, and your gaze whips back up front. Wooyoung catches your eye and quickly winks, the gesture playful yet it’s enough to send a wave of heat rushing through you. Your pulse races and every nerve in your body is suddenly aware of his presence. The world around you fades for a second, the reality of the situation sinking in—he chose you.

It feels like all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. Your chest tightens, and it’s taking every ounce of control not to claw at your neck in search of air. You can’t tell if your racing heart is a sign of excitement, fear, or a mixture of both.

The pairing results swirl through your mind as you try to process how you feel about Wooyoung having been paired with you. You know that the warlocks have some say in their pairing preference, but the decision is ultimately up to Father Blackmoor and The Dark Lord.

But there’s no time to dwell on it now—you have a performance to focus on. As the rest of the ceremony wraps up, the witches, including yourself, are expected to sing I Put A Spell On You.

You walk up to the front of the church with the other witches, your heart still hammering in your chest. You can feel Wooyoung’s gaze searing into you from across the room, but you refuse to meet his eyes. You know that if you do, you’ll stumble over the lyrics or worse, completely forget your part.

With every note of the song, you force yourself to remain composed. Your voice blends with the others, the melody haunting, filling the ancient church with an enchanting resonance. The weight of his stare lingers, but you resist the pull until the very end. Only when the final note fades and you’re walking back to your seat do you glance his way. His eyes are still on you, but there’s something different about his expression now—intense, unreadable.

Father Blackmoor steps forward as the ceremony winds down, his voice ringing through the dimly lit room. “Remember, paired witches and warlocks are strictly forbidden from seeing each other until tomorrow evening when you’ll all meet in the Darkwood for the Moon Ritual. Ghoul evening to you all.”

The church stirs with hushed whispers and rustling bodies as everyone begins to disperse. But you remain in place for a moment, your mind tangled in the events that have unfolded. Tomorrow promises even more mystery, and the thought of it sends another shiver down your spine.

You follow the large group down the path toward the heart of the academy’s campus, their excited chatter buzzing in the crisp evening air. But as they veer toward the dining hall, you quietly part ways, taking steps in the opposite direction toward a different building.

The heavy wooden doors creak as you push them open, and the familiar scent of ancient tomes and aged parchment envelops you.

The sanctum, the private library for advanced students like yourself, is nearly deserted tonight, making it the perfect place to find peace in the aftermath of the ceremony. The usual hum of magic is calming and the near-silence offers a much-needed space to clear your mind.

You make your way to the Demonology section, where the dim light and towering shelves create a cocoon of solitude. Finding an empty seat, you settle in, snapping your fingers to summon your books. In an instant, they materialize on the table before you, pages full of dark knowledge waiting to be absorbed.

Despite it being Lupercalia season, the academic grind doesn’t stop. Your upcoming exams loom over you like a dark cloud, and no amount of supernatural matchmaking will change that.

You run your fingers over the spines of your books, mentally preparing yourself to dive into study mode. The familiar words of your Demonology texts are grounding, a reminder of the discipline and focus you need to maintain.

The sanctum is quiet tonight, only the soft sound of pages turning and the occasional whispered incantation breaking the silence. You try to focus on the words in front of you, but your mind keeps drifting back to Wooyoung—his voice, his gaze, the gift he left in your room. You shake your head, pushing the thoughts aside. There will be time for all that later. For now, you need to concentrate.

Time passes and after finishing a few chapters, you glance at your watch, eyes widening in surprise. Three hours have flown by. Blair is going to be furious that you’re late to feed her. Scribbling down a final note, you snap your fingers, sending your books back to your room before heading out of the sanctum.

As you step outside, you collide with someone. "Oh, I’m so sorry!" you stammer, glancing up to apologize, only to be met with familiar eyes twinkling beneath tousled black hair.

Wooyoung.

“You’re forgiven,” he says smoothly.

"We’re not supposed to see each other," you remind him, taking a cautious step back.

He tilts his head, smirking too, just like he always does. "I know, but you skipped dinner, and there’s something I’ve been dying to do since yesterday."

"What? Stalk me some more?" you quip, feeling a rare surge of confidence.

His smirk spreads into a full smile, and to your delight, he chuckles—a sound you’ve secretly grown to love. Your heart pounds faster.

"You wish," he shoots back, his eyes gleaming as he steps closer. The intensity in his gaze feels almost magnetic, as if he's looking right through you, straight into your soul. His nostrils flare with a sharp exhale, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.

“What are you doing?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper as he takes yet another step closer.

He doesn't answer. Instead, with one smooth motion, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you toward him. His touch is firm, but there’s a softness to the way his fingers splay across your back. You feel your pulse quicken, your breath hitching in your throat.

“This is breaking the rules,” you whisper, trying to find an ounce of self-control to step out of his embrace.

His proximity overwhelms your senses—the warmth of his body, the way his breath tickles your skin, and the undeniable connection crackling between you two. He tilts his head slightly, the smirk on his lips fading into something more serious, more dangerous.

“I don’t break the rules, I just bend them,” he rasps, his voice low and teasing, right before he closes the space between you. The moment his lips brush against yours, you freeze, caught off guard by the softness, the tenderness as he coaxes you into responding. His mouth moves gently, skillfully, as if testing the waters, daring you to give in.

A frenzy stirs inside you, an electric current surging through your veins. Your hands instinctively move to frame his face, your fingers sliding along the sharp lines of his jaw before tangling in his soft, messy hair. The kiss deepens, the intensity building with every second as you press yourself closer to him, losing yourself in the heat of the moment.

You can’t get enough; the taste of him, the way his breath mingles with yours, and the undeniable pull that has your body responding before your mind can catch up. His other hand slides under your shirt and up your spine, anchoring you to him as if he never wants to let go.

Wooyoung mumbles an incantation against your lips before tickling the corners with his tongue. You’re too distracted to recall what he said, especially when you feel it.

Heat begins to radiate from his fingers, searing into your skin. It flows through your body until it hits your sweet spot, pooling dangerously between your legs.

You gasp against his mouth, and he uses the opportunity to dip his tongue inside, swallowing your moans as you let them slip out. Pressing your legs together, you try to find any sort of friction, aching for something to relieve the growing pressure.

A sinful sound vibrates from his chest when you bite down on his lower lip ever so gently. You have to admit, the thought of kissing him has crossed your mind more times than you can count. But now, standing here with the taste of him on your lips, you realize the reality is so much better than anything your imagination could have conjured.

He’s more intoxicating than any dream could ever be. Every touch sends a thrill through you that no fantasy could ever match. The way he knows exactly what you like leaves you yearning for more in a way that feels almost addictive.

Blair caws, cutting through the shadows of the night and announcing her arrival with impeccable timing. You both jolt, breaking apart as if the spell between you has been abruptly shattered.

“Ghoul evening, Blair,” Wooyoung mutters, his voice still thick with the lingering tension. He glances at the raven-like figure perched nearby, an amused glint flickering in his eyes. “It’s a good thing you arrived when you did,” he adds, his tone teasing. He looks down at you, pleased with how dissolved your shirt looks, how pouty your wet lips are from your nefarious activities.

He takes a step back, quickly smoothing down his hair and adjusting his clothes, his fingers lingering at his collar as he regains his usual composure. You, on the other hand, are still catching your breath, feeling the flush in your cheeks and the electric hum of the moment that lingers in the space between you.

Give me a little privacy to say goodbye, and I’ll give you extra treats for your late dinner, you say telepathically to Blair. She tilts her head, considering the offer, before finally cawing in agreement and taking off into the night, clearly satisfied with the deal.

“I want you to try something tonight,” Wooyoung murmurs, his voice low and full of mischief. His eyes glint with something dark and thrilling, sending a shiver down your spine. “When you’re alone in bed and everyone else is asleep…”

Your heart races while he speaks.

“I want you to pretend that your hands are my own, and I want you to touch yourself where you felt my magic earlier.”

“E-excuse me?” you stammer, your heart racing as you try to find the right words.

He grins, leaning in just enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him. “Trust me, you’ll like it,” he teases, his voice like velvet. “I need you to warm yourself up for me, so you’re ready to learn more tomorrow night. Will you do that for me?”

You nod, a shiver running across your skin as his words linger in the air.

“Now, get out of here and go feed Blair before you wake up tomorrow missing your eyes,” he adds with a playful smirk.

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress a smile. “Fine, see you later.”

“Yes, you will,” he says with a wink, watching as you turn to leave, his gaze heavy on you the entire way.

His words linger in your mind for the rest of the night.

It's now the witching hour, and your roommates are fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the potion you slipped into their bedtime tea. They never noticed the subtle, earthy undertones masking the spell’s effects, leaving them in a deep slumber for the next several hours.

It had to be done, the last thing you need is for one of them to wake and catch you in the act, especially while you're carrying out Wooyoung’s special request.

Under the safety of your blankets, you move quietly, as if any sudden movement could betray your secret. One hand begins to massage your breasts through your thin tank top, the other sliding down toward your pink panties.

Taking a deep breath, you open your legs, allowing your fingers to slip beneath the dampening fabric. After spreading your juices around, you rub your clit before slowly dipping your first finger into your slick entrance. The sensation is unfamiliar—neither bad nor uncomfortable, just something you're not used to. The pain of the stretch lingers, leaving a strange warmth that you can't quite place.

You close your eyes and pretend that Wooyoung is there with you. Swiftly, you begin to curl your fingers, simultaneously bucking into your hand. You picture him hovering over you, but the image clouds over, shifting into a different scene that becomes sharper.

Wooyoung is also in bed, with his hand wrapped around his exposed, thick cock, lazily pumping it. There’s something unsettlingly vivid about this image, as if it’s not just a product of your imagination. It feels real—too real. Gasping, you realize that he’s in your head, projecting himself, revealing his presence in a way that makes your heart race.

Then, as if he can sense that you've finally caught on to his wicked scheme, a dark smile tugs at the corner of his lips, the kind that makes your body’s temperature spike. “Are you touching yourself, like I asked you to?”

You suck in a sharp breath and nod instinctively, even though you know he can’t physically see you. But somehow, you sense that he knows.

“I bet you are,” he hums, closing his eyes while running his thumb over his pink head. He tosses his head back as he strokes himself, “I bet that tight little virgin cunt of yours needs some good stretching before she’s ready for me.”

Feeling the heat rising to the tips of your ears, they’re red from the weight of his words, like they’re wrapping themselves around you, pulling you deeper into his influence. The knot in your lower belly grows as you match your little finger thrusts to the speed of his hand pumps.

“Add another finger, honey, I know you can,” Wooyoung groans, his hand moving a little faster. “Look at how my cock aches to be sunk inside your sweet folds.”

You do as he commands. You’re panting at this point; completely zeroed in on his throbbing length while you climb towards bliss. The silent room fills with a sinful pattern of squelches from each thrust into your lush heat, and a divine sensation washes over you.

“Goddess, I’m about to make a mess,” he whines, a sound that you’ll never be able to forget. He stills, letting out another beautiful noise while his seed shoots out across his abs, some even on his dark silk sheets.

“That’s just a preview,” he grins devilishly, “Sleep well, Y/N.”

"Many blessings," Father Blackmoor's voice rings out, reverberating through the towering trees of the Darkwood. "Tonight, we honor the Moon and her radiant beauty. Paired couples, please step forward to collect your basket."

You step forward cautiously, aware of Wooyoung’s presence close behind you. As your fingers brush the edge of the woven basket, Wooyoung’s arm reaches past you, his hand closing around it first. His body hovers briefly against yours, a faint smile curving his lips. Sucking in a sharp breath, you pull your hand back as your mind flashes back to last night, Wooyoung’s cock is still fresh in your mind.

"Each basket contains a ceremonial knife," Father Blackmoor continues, his tone solemn. "You will begin the rite by smearing your blood upon your partner's forehead. Then, you must drink the purification potion—the milky-colored vial—and consume the figs, symbolizing your unity. Under the moonlight, you will lie side by side until dawn, as a testament to your bond and in preparation for tomorrow’s Hunt."

His final words hang in the cool night air as the forest seems to hush in reverence for what’s to come. You glance up at Wooyoung, and his eyes are already on you, dark and unreadable, only reflecting the moonlight.

As the other couples start to spread out across the forest, Wooyoung’s hand finds yours, tugging you deeper into the woods. His steps are quiet, purposeful, as the towering trees close in around you both. Your attention snaps forward when you catch a glimpse of movement—there, not far ahead, the same fox-like creature you spotted by the willows. The realization dawns on you: it’s Wooyoung’s familiar.

The creature moves gracefully, leading the way through the underbrush, its magical fur shimmering under the pale moonlight. Wooyoung follows without hesitation, his gaze fixed on his familiar. You trail behind, curiosity building, as the creature guides you to a secluded clearing hidden deep in the Darkwood.

“Thank you, Vixen,” Wooyoung murmurs once you’ve arrived. The fox-like familiar halts briefly, then glimmers before fading into the air, leaving behind a trail of glowing embers that slowly dissipate into the night.

Your eyes scan the clearing, and you notice the scene in front of you—a circle of softly flickering candles arranged around a blanket spread across the forest floor. The air hums with quiet magic, thick with mystery and anticipation. Wooyoung turns to you, his eyes glinting in the candlelight, a mischievous yet unreadable expression crossing his face.

Wooyoung extends his hand to you, his touch firm yet gentle as he helps you step onto the soft blanket. With a single snap of his fingers, your clothes transform—yours into a sheer white nightgown, his into simple black pants, with his chest left bare, the candlelight casting shadows over his defined muscles.

“Ready to begin?” he asks, voice low, eyes holding a flicker of something dangerous yet enticing.

You nod, your breath catching for a moment. Reaching into the basket set down beside him, your fingers curl around the cool metal of the ceremonial blade. Together, your voices join in a low, rhythmic chant, weaving through the night air. The ritual words hang heavy between you as you press the blade to your finger, feeling the sharp sting as blood wells up. Stepping closer, you bring your hand to his forehead, smearing an upside-down cross on his tanned skin, the blood vivid against his complexion.

Without a word, you hand the blade to Wooyoung, your fingers brushing his in the exchange. He mimics your actions, the cool sting of the knife barely registering as he pricks his finger, marking your forehead with the same crimson anti-cross. The flames around you leap higher, responding to the magic building in your chant.

The moonlight glistens against his skin, bathing him in an ethereal glow as he lifts the purification potion from the basket. He drinks deeply, eyes never leaving yours, and then hands the vial to you. You take it from him, your pulse quickening as you lift it to your lips, the magic binding you both growing stronger with each word, each action.

His eyes darken; trailing over your nearly naked body. They land on your peaked nipples, and he lets out a deep exhale while his eyes are glued in place.

“Um, figs,” Wooyoung clears his throat, momentarily dazed, shaking his head as if to regain focus. He grabs one from the basket, handing you the other. You sink your teeth into the fruit’s tender skin, its bright red flesh spilling a sweet, rich juice onto your lips. A single drop escapes and trails down your chin, and you catch Wooyoung watching, his gaze lingering longer than usual. But he doesn’t say a word. Not yet.

You quickly wipe away the juice, trying to ignore the flush creeping up your neck. “So… what now?” you ask, your voice more uncertain than you intended. You’ve both completed the ritual, but the tension between you is undeniable. Neither of you has acknowledged last night’s activities, though you’re certain it’ll come up eventually. It has to.

He shifts slightly, his eyes scanning your face, and for a moment, it seems like he’s about to bring it up. His lips twitch into a half-smile, “I’ve got an idea or two.”

You’re not sure how it happened—one moment you’re standing, the next you’re lying beneath him. Wooyoung hovers above you, his arms on either side of your head, eyes gleaming with that familiar intensity. His body is close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, and your pulse quickens as his breath brushes against your skin.

Without notice, his lips crash down onto yours. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, moaning when your hands twist in his hair.

He presses his hips down into yours, letting you feel how worked up he’s already become.

“We're technically not supposed to do anything tonight,” Wooyoung says, his voice low and teasing once he pulls back. A mischievous glint sparkles in his eyes as he adds, “But a rule’s never stopped me before.”

You pull his head back down to yours, kissing him languishingly as he rolls his hips into yours again.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks, this time pressing his length right up against your covered heat.

Wooyoung’s lips curl into a devilish smile when you whine incoherently about wanting more.

“Answer me, honey. Do you want more?” He asks with a growl, but the intensity in his gaze makes it clear—he already knows the answer.

“Yes,” you beg, “More. Please!”

He grabs handfuls of the fabric at your sides, bunching it up around your waist before he descends below.

Your dewy center is covered in a heavy coating of your arousal. Spellbound by the sight, he instinctively brings his fingers to your heat, gathering some of your transparent essence and smearing it around your folds.

“Fucking hell, you’re so fucking wet for me,” Wooyoung mutters.

Incapable of waiting any longer, he dives in tongue first, licking a beautiful line from your slit’s opening up to your needy nub of nerves. Another growl resounds from his chest as he devours your sex, his cock involuntarily twitching when he sinks two fingers back to your opening. Wooyoung strokes his saturated fingers through your slit before sinking them inside your soft flesh, feeling your inner walls clench around them.

He pulls them out and admires how your hole instinctively sucks his digits back in where they belong.

“Such a tight little cunt. It’ll be ruined by tomorrow night,” Wooyoung groans; despite his words, there’s nothing but appraisal in his voice. He looks up at your body, meeting your eyes. His flash with a dark dominance, lust with a dash of something else flicker in them.

His devilish words only excite you further, and more of your sticky arousal coats his hand. Each curl of his fingers brings you closer and closer to writhing pleasure.

His head dips back down, his tongue swirling around your clit before he sucks it between his teeth. Gasping, you buck your hips upward, needing more. So much more.

“I can’t wait to turn you into a nasty little whore. Would you like that?” he asks in between little licks.

“Y-yes” you mewl. “Wanna. Be your w-whore.”

He’s got you dancing along the edge of a very dangerous cliff, and you want nothing more than to jump off, face first, and dive into the waves of ecstasy that await.

He can tell that you’re close; your walls are beginning to tighten around him. Flattening his tongue against your sensitive nub, he applies the right amount of pressure you need to come all over his face.

When he sits up, his mouth is dribbling with your release; it’s a pretty sight to see.

“Not bad for a virgin,” he teases.

Your blissful smile turns coy, “Is it my turn to taste you? You’ll have to teach this virgin just how you like it.”

A deep, low growl vibrates in his chest and the corners of his jaw flex as he stands up, his silhouette outlined from the moonlight.

“On your knees then, slut.”

You twist your body until you’re sitting on your knees, your used cunt dripping onto the blanket below.

“Goddess, I’m so fucking hard for you,” Wooyoung grunts while pulling his pants down.

Freed from his pants, his cock springs out before bouncing momentarily, then stands erect in its full glory. You reflexively clench at the sight of him. It’s just as you remember it from last night.

Tightening his palm around his shaft, Wooyoung begins stroking himself before lining his tip up to your lips.

“Take just the head into your mouth,” he murmurs. “Just while you warm up to the feeling.”

You immediately wrap your mouth around him and a wave of precum leaks directly onto your tongue. Circling his thick tip, you get comfortable with the weight of him on your tongue, learning his taste.

“Such a good slut,” Wooyoung croons, causing your core to tremble from his praises.

One hand moves to hold your chin, angling your head to look up at him, “When you’re ready for more, take a deep breath and take in more of me.”

Hollowing your cheeks, you suckle on his head, letting more and more of him into your wet cave. You run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, the tickling sensation causing him to jerk inside you.

Wooyoung tugs on your hair, softly at first, and then his fist wraps around the handful in his grasp. His impressive length fills your mouth, his immense girth cracking your jaw open with each gentle thrust.

Words of encouragement spill from his lips, giving you the confidence to suck in the final inch of his member.

Involuntarily, you gag around his cock when his thick head hits the back of your throat. Tears sting the corner of your eyes, falling soon after.

Without warning, his length surges into your throat and Wooyoung lets out a stream of colorful expletives as his release hits him. His hips jerk once more, and he tosses his head back underneath the moonlight.

You shudder, feeling his thick cum stick to the walls of your throat.

“Goddess,” he hums, “Sorry about that.” Wooyoung slips out of your mouth, admiring as you use the back of your hand, you wipe your soddened mouth.

“It’s okay. Now I know what to expect.”

Wooyoung pulls you into his embrace, and you both settle into the quiet rhythm of the night, staring up at the stars as they shimmer in the sky. His warmth surrounds you, grounding you amidst the cool breeze.

He shifts slightly, turning on the blanket to meet your gaze. “I need to warn you about tomorrow,” he begins, his voice lower, more serious. “The potion we warlocks take before the ceremony… it makes our animalistic instincts take over. It’s going to be rough. That’s why I’ve been preparing you, so to speak.”

A knot twists in your stomach at his words. You hadn’t realized the full extent of what tomorrow held, but now it makes sense. That’s why they call it the Hunt, you think, You’re basically their prey. The pieces finally click into place. His honesty, though jarring, makes you feel strangely grateful that he’s letting you in on something you weren’t aware of.

“I trust you,” you whisper softly. “You haven’t hurt me so far, so I’m not worried about tomorrow.”

Wooyoung’s chest rises as he takes a deep breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He silently prays to Goddess Peralia that he won’t bring you any harm during the Hunt. The uncertainty flickers in his eyes for just a moment before he pulls you closer, wrapping you in his warmth.

“Come here,” he murmurs, his voice gentle as you settle against his chest. His heart beats steadily beneath your ear, and soon your breaths fall in sync, the sound of the wind rustling through the Darkwood easing you both into a peaceful silence.

As the stars twinkle above, the night’s calm surrounds you like a protective cocoon, lulling you into sleep. You drift into a deep, restful slumber, cocooned in his arms, feeling the peace before the inevitable storm of tomorrow.

“The Insatiable Hunt begins,” one of the warlocks grins darkly before tossing back the elixir, the liquid shimmering as it slides down his throat. Wooyoung raises his glass in silent agreement, his eyes flashing with excitement before he gulps it down, feeling the fiery potion race through his veins. The others follow suit, the room buzzing as they prepare for the night ahead.

They pull on their wolf masks, transforming from men into primal hunters, instincts sharpening with every heartbeat. The thrill of the chase hangs thick in the air as they line up, muscles tensed, waiting for the doors to open.

Wooyoung’s body hums with the effects of the potion, a burning heat spreading through his skin. His senses sharpen—your scent lingers, intoxicating and irresistible. His pupils dilate as your essence floods his nostrils, every fiber of his being urging him forward. The others grin beneath their masks, but his focus is single-minded: you.

The doors creak open with a loud thud, unleashing them into the night. With a guttural growl, Wooyoung sprints into the woods, his feet pounding the earth as he follows your trail, the scent drawing him deeper into the Darkwood. His heart races, blood pumping with one singular purpose: to find you. To claim his prize.

Wooyoung moves like a shadow, effortlessly twisting and turning through the woods, his heightened senses guiding him closer to your trail. Each subtle shift in the air tells him you're near. He slows as he approaches a dense thicket, his instincts screaming at him to be cautious. He can feel you hiding, watching, waiting.

His cock strains when he catches a whiff of your scent, his hardened member straining against the tightness of his pants as it begs to bury itself deep inside of you.

His eyes narrow, hyper-focused on the faintest rustle of leaves. You dart from the bushes, sprinting through the underbrush, your breath quickening as you distance yourself from him. He follows silently, his steps deliberately soundless as he stalks you.

You duck behind a tree, pressing your back against its trunk, heart pounding in your chest. Straining to listen, you hear... nothing. No footsteps, no rustling—nothing. A chill creeps up your spine. Slowly, you peek around the tree, scanning the shadows. There’s no sign of him.

Relief barely has time to settle in before you turn back and scream.

He’s right there, inches away.

"Gotcha," Wooyoung growls, his voice low and menacing, his breath hot against your skin. With a wicked grin, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze as he slams your back against the rough bark of the tree. The impact sends a jolt through your body, your heart racing even faster now. His grip tightens, but not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who’s in control.

His eyes glint through the wolf mask with a dangerous mix of hunger and satisfaction, the thrill of the Hunt evident in every line of his expression.

Wooyoung's grip tightens, his breath hot against your ear as he growls, “I can’t wait to split you in half with my cock.”

Before you can react, he spins you around, pressing your chest against the rough bark of the tree. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his hands slide down your sides, firm and unyielding.

He blames his newfound animalistic behavior for how fast he rips away your crimson cloak and the layers beneath it, leaving the shredded fabric scattered across the mossy forest floor.

In one swift movement, Wooyoung uses a knee to spread your legs and sinks into your inviting opening without warning. Tears sting your eyes from the sudden intrusion, but the pain quickly turns into mind-shattering pleasure.

“Taking it so well, aren’t you, slut?” he purrs, voice low and dripping with praise. The raw, commanding edge in his tone sends shivers through you, your insides tightening around him in response.

You hum an incoherent response, unable to form words when his cockhead is pressed against the swell of your cervix.

After ripping his mask off, Wooyoung’s fingers press into your hips. He holds you steady as he moves, each thrust punctuated by dark whispers of just how perfectly he fits inside you.

Wooyoung’s grin brushes against your neck as he drags his tongue up the curve of your skin, leaving a lingering lick before pressing a kiss just below your ear. His hips pull back slowly, his length retreating from your slick folds until only the tip remains, teasing you.

Then, with a low growl, he thrusts forward, filling you entirely in one fluid motion, claiming every inch as he sinks deep inside.

The sudden motion causes you to moan uncontrollably, his girth continuing to stretch out your soft walls. Your soaked cunt splitting open around Wooyoung’s enormous girth only causes him to swell more, if that’s even possible.

“M-more, please!” you whimper.

Wooyoung clenches his jaw, feeling your wetness ooze out where your bodies meet with each quick thrust.

One of his hands squeezes your side, the other falls to your round ass, and his claw-like nails scratch across your skin before he pulls his hand back to spank you. Your vision blurs from the impact, and you push your hips out, asking for more.

“Again,” you whine, your head digging further into the tree’s bark.

You bite down on your lower lip, anticipation building as you brace yourself. A sharp crack echoes through the air as his hand comes down against you, harder this time and sending another sting that radiates through your skin.

A moan slips past your lips, the sharpness transforming into pleasure that courses through your body. His fingers trace the spot he’s just marked, his low chuckle rumbling against your ear.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice rich with approval, each word sending shivers through you. “Turn around. I want to look at you," he demands next, his voice gritting through his teeth.

You obey, slowly turning to face him, your heart racing under his intense gaze. His eyes roam over you, filled with a mix of hunger and admiration that makes you feel both vulnerable and exhilarated.

Wooyoung cups your chin, tilting your face up toward him. His thumb brushes over your swollen lips as he drinks you in. "Look at you," he whispers, almost to himself, his thumb slipping inside your mouth. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around it, meeting his gaze as you lightly suck, earning a dark smile from him.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his free hand tracing down your body, grazing every curve and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "And you're all mine tonight." His words trail off as his length pounds into you again.

He watches as your lips part, head tilting back in pure bliss, and takes his chance. His mouth crashes onto yours, tongue slipping between your lips with a raw desire, claiming every inch he can reach. The kiss is deep and possessive, leaving you breathless as his hand tangles in your hair, keeping you close.

His tongue strokes against yours, tasting every gasp and moan you release, as if he’s memorizing the way you feel beneath him. You melt into his kiss, losing yourself in the heat, the way he consumes you with each movement.

When he pulls back, Wooyoung drags his lips against the shell of your ear to whisper, “Is this what you want? Your little virgin cunt destroyed?”

“Yes,” you moan, voice low and thick with desire. Then, locking eyes with him, you let a wicked smirk curve your lips, meeting his heated gaze with a look as dangerous as his own. "Ruin me," you breathe, each word dripping with a challenge that sends a spark down his spine.

A growl escapes his lips, and his grip on you tightens. He pushes you against the rough bark, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist as his eyes darken with pure, animalistic hunger. “You want to be ruined?” he whispers, his voice a low rasp against your ear as he pulls your hips even closer. “Careful what you ask for.”

His thrusts come harder, relentless, each one leaving you trembling and gasping as he takes you to the edge, only to pull you back before you can fall. His hand slides up your throat, a possessive touch that’s somehow both gentle and commanding as his thumb grazes your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"You’re mine," he growls, eyes blazing, his body pressed against yours with no space left between you. He savors every inch of you, watching your face intently as he ravages you with a merciless rhythm, his fingers digging into your waist. “And I’m not stopping until you’re completely undone.”

Your moans grow louder, filling the night air and mingling with the rhythmic slap of your bodies moving in unison. The sounds echo through the Darkwood, a primal symphony that seems to resonate with the forest around you, intensifying with each frenzied thrust.

Wooyoung feels your walls clench tightly around him, a signal that you’re close to unraveling. “Cum around my cock, honey,” he rasps, his voice laced with possessiveness. “I know you’re close.”

He quickens his pace, pounding into you with a newfound urgency, while his fingers find their way to that sensitive spot between your legs. The moment his thumb and forefinger pinch your aching nub, pleasure spirals through you like wildfire.

You scream his name, your body seizing up as waves of ecstasy crash over you, each pulse flooding your veins with tingling heat.

He watches you intently, captivated as your face twists in bliss, feeling you squeeze around him, almost pulling him over the edge.

A low growl escapes his lips, and with two final, frenzied thrusts, he buries himself as deeply as he can, his abs contracting as he spills himself inside you. His teeth graze your bare shoulder, biting down as he rides out his release, filling you with a heat that leaves you both breathless.

“Oh, praise Satan,” he gasps, letting out a shaky laugh as he presses his forehead against yours. The two of you catch your breath together, heartbeats slowing, tangled in the afterglow.

You collapse entirely into his arms, utterly spent and trembling, every muscle deliciously exhausted as you sink into the darkness of sleep that lingers at the edge of your consciousness. A grin tugs at your lips, satisfaction mingling with exhaustion as you surrender to it, the night’s events replaying like a forbidden lullaby.

Nothing in your dreams could ever compare to the raw, disgraceful, dangerously addictive reality you’ve just experienced. Wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, you let go, falling into a slumber filled with echoes of his touch.

The room is loud with the sound of laughter, clinking goblets, and whispered gossip. Candles cast a warm glow over the grand hall as platters of food float between the seated bodies; you're barely listening though, too hyper-aware of Wooyoung sitting beside you.

You steal a glance at him from across the table. He’s watching you, his gaze steady and unwavering. A secret smirk plays at the corner of his lips, one that makes your cheeks burn under the soft glow of the chandeliers. It’s almost unbearable, this tension simmering between you, each stolen look as dangerous as a spark near dry wood.

His fingertips graze yours under the table, sending a rush through you each time. You both know the game you’re playing—pushing boundaries, daring each other, waiting for one of you to make the next move.

Finally, he leans in, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Let’s get out of here.”

"We can’t just leave," you mumble, finally meeting his burning gaze. There's a warning in your eyes, but he ignores it, his grin only growing.

You bite your lip, glancing around at the oblivious faces around you. "It’s the middle of the feast," you continue, though your resolve is already faltering. "People will notice."

"Let them," he says, the mischief in his tone unmistakable.

He stands and takes your hand, his grip both gentle and possessive as he leads you out, weaving through the tables with a confidence that dares anyone to question him.

Whispers and side glances follow, and you try to ignore the burning stares—hungry warlocks with dark eyes, envious witches with guarded whispers.

Everything has changed.

Wooyoung’s presence grounds you, his thumb brushing reassuring circles against your skin. And when he glances back at you, tilting his head in that familiar way with a smirk tugging at his lips, you realize that somehow—despite all the chaos of this past week—some things aren’t so different after all.

→ Taglist: want to be notified about future fics? join my taglist here!

@gyupremacy @yoonguurt @sinfullygay @starsrens

@daniela-f-uwu @curse-of-art

©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.

[mxltifxnd0m]

boyfriend headcanons ⟡ d. winchester

pairings: dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x gn! reader

word count: 1.2K

warnings: no use of 'y/n', fluff, one suggestive comment, a smidge of angst, reader is to be implied as a hunter, lowercase intended

a/n: SURPRISE! i made the dean version of bf headcanons. i stayed up until 3am making this bc my mind had ideas and i didn't want to lose them lol (ik im crazy 😁) also technically my first fic for dean lmao

i hope you all enjoy and please reblog and comment, it really helps out!!

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

⟡ before dating you:

was super attracted to you before he even said a single word to you 

it was definitely lust at first sight (he wouldn't have minded sleeping with you) 

then you opened your mouth, and he was like, oh man, they're gonna be trouble, aren't they (as if he isn't trouble as well) 

you guys bickered a lot. like A LOT to the point where sam would have to remove himself from the room or get in between you two in order to stop the bickering 

the bickering got so bad that sam had to lock the two of you in the motel room sam and he were sharing and didn't let you guys out until the two of you could have a civil conversation 

you guys eventually stopped bickering out of malice after finding common ground between the two of you 

there was bickering but it read more of an old married couple bantering with one another 

then somehow, you guys became friends, and the physical attraction that dean had to you had morphed into something else and then he realized that he liked you 

he only confessed his feelings when you had a close call with a ghoul and blurted out his feelings to you when patching you up 

⟡ dating dean winchester:

you would describe dating dean as a roller coaster, but like all relationships, it has its ups and downs 

it was hard to have vulnerable conversations with dean without the infamous hunters' helper (alcohol lol)

you guys fought a lot at the beginning of your relationship bc you were fighting tooth and nail to get him to at least try and talk to you 

you soon realized that you would have to take a different approach to it and eventually let him come to you when he needed it 

it took a while, but once he put his walls down and trusted you, it seemed like a weight was lifted off of him when he finally told you a sliver of what was going on in his head 

⟡ soft dean!

now, this is where we get soft! dean 

we all know that dean is secretly a softy at heart, and you see it in the more quiet moments with him

he'll stare at you when the two of you are researching or when you're bustling around the kitchen, prepping and cooking lunch for the three of you 

and without fail, a cute blush will appear on his face, making his freckles pop against the red hue of his cheeks as you catch him staring at you  "what are you looking at?" you asked with a wide smile on your face.  "just you sweetheart." he tries to play off his flustered state with a wink, but you shook your head, knowing he was a bit embarrassed he got caught staring.

speaking about getting flustered, he loves teasing you and trying to get you flustered with fleeting touches, flirty gestures, and outright whispering the filthiest things that he wants to do you during the most inconvenient times, like if you're on a case or researching 

what he didn't take into account when he started it was that you would dish it right back at him

he loves it when you keep him on your toes 

⟡ pet names

OH another thing, PET NAMES  he loves using pet names for you 

we have the usual sweetheart, babe (not baby bc you know you come in a close third after sam and the impala) (he's tried arguing that's not true, but you knew it and understood you came after both of them).

he would def call you honey, beautiful, angel, and some variation of your name/nickname 

if he's in a playful mood, he'd probably call you borderline cringe pet names like pumpkin, sweet cheeks, pookie these are the ones you roll your eyes at since he knows you hate them

⟡ love langauges

now, his love languages, his main ones to give are acts of service, physical affection, and quality time, while the ones he likes to receive are physical touch, words of affirmation, and quality time 

⟡ physical touch

now, physical touch is a given for dean  he's a very tactical man and is a sucker for it 

when he can, he'll always be touching you, holding your hand or resting on your shoulder, thighs pressed together while sitting together eating in a diner booth, cuddling while watching a movie or always being in his arms while sleeping together, making out wherever whenever (his favorite place is obviously in the backseat of baby) 

but there are days when he needs physical affection from you, and you gladly give it to him, and he's a sucker for you when you play with his hair 

PDA, man is shameless with the PDA  he doesn't care he will kiss you no matter what and when he can  he loves you, and even if he's afraid to say it, he'll definitely show it to you 

⟡ acts of service

which brings me to acts of service  dean will do anything for you even if you didn't ask for him to do it  makes breakfast for you almost every morning, gives you his flannel when you're cold (he loves to see you in his clothes), replaces the lightbulb in your lamp when you mentioned it was flickering, taking care of you when you get drunk (he did this even before the two of you started to date and bickered the entire time), but the list goes on and on 

dean just likes to take care of the people he loves (it was practically ingrained into him at a young age) 

⟡ quality time

he also likes spending time with you it doesn't matter if the two of you aren't talking and working on your own tasks; he likes being in your presence (it soothes him)  with how crazy his life is, he loves the mundane things/tasks he does with you

sometimes, he'll go run errands with you, not bc he's bored and wants to avoid research (which is actually the main excuse at times) but, he likes the sense of normalcy it brings him when the two of you are together, and when you spend time with him 

⟡ words of affirmation

now, dean would never admit it to you (or to himself), but he needs to be reassured 

his mind is a dangerous place for him, and he can find himself drowning in his self-deprecating and self-destructive thoughts (these are also the days he needs you the most, and your touch is grounding to him) 

your words act as a lifeboat for him in the chaotic storm that is his mind and calms them down significantly 

he slowly works on his self-esteem and self-worth, but with your help, it's a little easier for him 

⟡ protective

this is a given, but he is SO protective of you 

dean is a fiercely protective person at his core and will do anything and everything to keep the people that he loves safe, and now that includes you 

some arguments were had when dean was being overbearing and flat out refusing to let you go on certain hunts with them bc it was too dangerous. you had to remind him that you were a hunter before you met him and will continue being one until the day you decide to try and retire or die 

he doesn't like it when you hunt alone, and so he always tries to come with you or send sam with you if he's indisposed for some reason 

he's only like this bc he can't lose one of the best things in his life 

[danieyells]

Upcoming cards!

(Jabberwock Kemomimi, Tarot Ritsu, Wedding Jiro, and next episode's theme!)

Character Card: Peculiar Rabbit(「不思議の牧場の案内人」  "Wonderful Ranch Guide")

Skill: Step Right Up(「客引きトーク」  "Solicitor Talk")

Fully Awakened Skill: Quick Wit Clever Hands(「口八丁手八丁」  "Eloquent And Skilled")

Warding Card: Unexpected Weakness(「陽も木から落ちる」  "Haru Also Will Fall Out Of A Tree")

MORE FREE FEET

Character Card: Enigmatic Stag(「幽けき光に照らされて」  "Illuminated By The Dim Light")

Skill: Broken Horn(「折れた角」  "Broken Horn")

Fully Awakened Skill: Hidden Wish(「秘めた願い」  "Hidden Wish")

Warding Card: Swanky Ensemble(「光舞う空間の合奏」  "Ensemble of Dancing Light Between Them")

Character Card: Mournful Hound(「挑め望まぬアウトドア」  "Taking On The Unwanted Outdoors")

Skill: Forced Labor(「強制労働」  "Forced Labor")

Fully Awakened Skill: Is This Harassment?(「パワハラっすか」  "Is This Power Harassment?")

Warding Card: Laundry Weather(「お洗濯日和」  "Ideal Weather For Doing Laundry")

Somebody who knows tarot cards should tell us what this means lol. Also it seems like all of their card, skill, and warding card names for this set will follow the same naming pattern which is cool. Knowing this I'm pretty sure I mistranslated Kaito's--his description is "friendly" and in Japanese it was something like "close to you", as in he's the PC's closest friend here.

Character Card: The Knight Of Pentacles(「金貨のナイトの誘惑」  "The Allure Of The Knight Of Pentacles")

Skill: Law Wielder(「六法の使い手」  "Wielder of the Compendium Of Laws")

Fully Awakened Skill: Steel Ghoul(「鋼のグール」  "Steel Ghoul")

Warding Card: Unshakable Lost Property(「挫けぬ銀河の落とし物」  "Unbreakable Lost Property")

Not in the monster.json so i have no clue if it's coming out soon but the card name was in the file with unit names so i was able to dig this one out

Character Card: Patient Groom(「今日の白衣は特別仕様」  "Today's White Clothes Are Special" (「白衣」/"white clothes" in this case refer to the garments/labcoats/etc worn by doctors and chemists and the like--basically "instead of wearing white for work I'm wearing white for my wedding"))

Skill: Sincere Bouquet(「誓いの花束」  "Bouquet of Vows")

Fully Awakened Skill: Unforgettable Memory(「二度と忘れぬ想い」  "Unforgettable Experience")

Warding Card: Unchanging Expression(「変わらぬ表情で」  "Unchanging Expression")

Cosmic bonds haven't updated yet. I even tried manually deleting and redownloading their files. ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

And next episode is FROSTHEIM IN KNIGHT ATTIRE!! A lot of people have been waiting for Frostheim lol Jin is gonna have like 10 cards if he doesn't already goddamn

The episode will be called "Episode 13: Murder At The Masquerade"(「エピソード 13: 仮面舞踏会殺人事件」 )!

As usual!

Gacha is gambling! Keep a close eye on your spending, or don't spend at all! Don't spend any money you can't afford to lose and seek help from a professional if you may be losing control of your spending!

Remember that units always rerun eventually! You can always save for next time!

My Japanese is not very good so take my translations with a grain of salt

Good luck!

[itsclydebitches]

By this point we’ve all seen a hundred “Lucy had a crush on Cooper Howard and doesn’t realize he’s the Ghoul” takes (which feed me during the hiatus, thanks), but just for the lols I’d love to see the reversal: Lucy hates this guy.

Cooper Howard is her personal White Whale. Lucy hate-watches his films and nit-picks every scene like someone is paying her caps to do it. Whatever the opposite of a blorbo is, that’s Cooper. She woke up one day and chose violence against this 200 years dead actor in particular… but, you know, in a PR approved, Vaultie kind of way. Why the hate? Who knows. Probably a combination of her dad showing her Cooper’s debut film right when she hit that tween age where liking what your parents like is soul crushing and the fact that if she didn’t have this emotional outlet she’d probably explode. It’s the one (1) thing goody-goody Lucy is irrational about and Norm takes endless pleasure in it.

So she’s traveling with the Ghoul, right? Not a whole lot to do while traversing the Wasteland, especially when your companion is blatantly ignoring you and the pip-boy isn’t picking up any radio signals. So when Lucy is able to open that wound again she starts talking about her dad. The books he liked. Jokes he told over dinner. His favorite pair of socks. Silly, inconsequential things that don’t touch on the weight of his betrayal.

Eventually, Lucy talks about the movies they used to watch.

Eventually, Lucy is comfortable enough—and bored enough—to segue into epic rants about Cooper Fudging Howard. For hours. Nothing escapes her passive aggressive, couched-as-constructive-criticism bitching. Not his acting (“Really, he’d benefit from learning a gesture other than sticking his hands in his belt”), not his looks (“Who decided to put him in those pants in Master of the Ranch? Although, Dad says Howard is the one who requested them…”), not even his unintentional impact on the family (“I swear if Dad makes me watch A Man and His Dog one more time…”).

All the while Cooper is walking a few paces ahead. Seemingly stoic.

Actually losing it.

What’s he even supposed to do in this situation?? He hates himself, but not like that. Cooper doesn’t have any desire to talk to Vaultie (that’s a lie. He’s good at lying to himself), but suddenly he wants to turn around, finger held aloft in the air (hers), and correct everything coming out of her mouth—whether he truly disagrees or not. Hands-in-belt is a classic cowboy pose. He loved those pants.

Cooper is Struggling™ and they haven’t even hit the strip yet.

Bonus points: Somewhere along the line they get together and Cooper starts angsting over whether Lucy will leave him. Not because of the radiation damage, or the murder, or the cannibalism, but because if she ever finds out he’s Cooper Howard she’ll absolutely abandon ship. Or kill him. Either option seems likely at this point.

Lucy: Are you ever going to tell me your name? Cooper, literally in bed with Lucy post-coitus: …That’s a little personal, sweetheart

[meanbossart]

Does Drow have any feelings on the undead outside of vampires(Lich, Ghouls, wights, mummies, etc?)??

🦷

He definitely sees them as lesser, and I guess in this case he isn't entirely incorrect; they are creatures that either sacrificed their own lives or failed at it, and as consequence of that have many of their functions literally lessened. He puts them in the same category as goblins or orcs, probably way underneath them even.

I got another interesting one that is kind of on-topic, as long as we're here:

First of all, this is a very fun dream, LOL.

Secondly this is 100% accurate to the character. I might as well have been the narrator (god I wish).

I've touched on this before, but DU drow loves making arbitrary exceptions. He will make fun of and look down on people in every category, species, and walk of life - and yet he will mingle with these same people, happily have a good time, happily amuse himself with them and vice versa. Mostly he does this from the perspective of a king in a world of jesters, but every once in a while he finds himself genuinely liking them. You see this with Shadowheart, you see this with Astarion, you see it with a number of people he meets throughout his travels in-game and in ANE.

Whenever it happens, he tells himself and he tells you the obvious: "they are not like the other x". He will keep doing this for the rest of his life with everyone that he meets, probably.

As a fun addendum as well, when it comes to vampires in particular his opinion is very much painted by Astarion's own. Astarion shows nothing but disdain and distrust towards his own kind - DU drow simply mirrors that exactly, despite having fallen in love with what was probably he first vampire whose name he ever learned.

[pixel-percy]

🎬 Newly divorced actor, Cooper Howard, finds comfort in his personal assistant when he needs it the most. 🎬

🎬 Word Count: 19.6k 🎬 Music Vibes: West Coast Love by Emotional Oranges 🎬 Warning(s): Smut (piv/unprotected, brief mention of others), very light exhibitionism, make-outs/heavy petting, semi-canon universe, post-divorce drama (+ the angst that comes with it), brief alcoholism, accusations of infidelity, age gap (consensual, reader mid-20s), workplace power imbalance (consensual), & brief mention of blood 🎬 A/N: Holy shit. I did it. This is the longest fic I've ever written & it's complete! Pretty sure I started this back in June or July & have been working on it on & off ever since. I'm dropping this with a light proof read so if you spot any mistakes, no you don't lol May also add to the warnings if I feel like I missed any, but, yeah. I had such a blast writing for pre-Ghoul Cooper so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do <3

The moment you stepped into Cooper’s house, the scent of cigarettes washed over you and the steady sound of idle chatter filled your ears. Most of the attendees ignored you in favor of rubbing elbows with potential business partners and movie deals and, those who did recognize you, greeted you with warm smiles and sometimes exuberant shouts of your name. You did your best to return each greeting—a cheek kiss here, a handshake there, a narrow dodge of an errant hand guided by booze—and maneuvered through the crowd expertly. You hadn’t spotted him yet.

A hand on your elbow called your attention toward the feeling and you managed to catch a glimpse of Sebastian Leslie, one of Cooper’s close friends, as he leaned close to your ear. You smiled, mostly for the attendees, and leaned into him a bit, hand against his forearm. Curious eyes passed over you both momentarily but moved on just as quickly when they realized who you two were.

“He gave her the divorce papers before the party,” he whispered loud enough for you only to hear. “It’s been an hour and he hasn’t shown his face once.”

Your smile hadn’t faltered for a moment, adjusting his ascot and squeezing his upper arm reassuringly.

“I got it,” you said and turned away from Sebastian. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you did have it, this entire thing with Barb had him acting distant and slightly cold to everyone that wasn’t Janey.

You’d done your best to just stay out of his way, handled anything that was asked of you without much complaint, and generally just tried to make his life easier while he navigated the treacherous terrain that had become his home life. Which is what made this all the more difficult—the Vault-Tec deal, his new movie, and the party at hand at the result of them both. Hollywood stars and scientists mingled all in the same space awaiting the man of the hour… unaware of what was happening behind closed doors. But that was a problem for tomorrow you and tomorrow Cooper.

“Nice dress, by the way,” Sebastian commented. It was, in fact, the nicest thing you currently owned, even if it had been the very thing you wore under your college graduation gown a few years prior. White and gold, with swirls and florals, no sleeves, a modest front, and a deep v in the back that stopped at a bow. The skirt was asymmetrical, showing off your legs and a pair of cute heels you saved for parties like this. You were a P.A not a starlet after all. You did a little twirl for Sebastian which earned some laughter from you both before you left him completely.

The greetings continued on your path toward the stairs that you knew would lead up to his bedroom, the most likely place he’d be holed up in. Glasses clinked and boisterous laughter carried over the soft music, while you made your way up to the second floor where the partygoers hadn’t dared tread. The sounds of the party muffled with every step into the dimly lit hallway, framed movie posters lining the walls toward the door at the end of the path, ajar enough to let a sliver of light pour out. You reached out your hand to rap lightly on the wood.

“Mr. Howard?” you tried. A small, familiar woof hit your ears and soon you spotted a curious nose, sniffs loud, and tail wagging furiously. “Hey, Roosevelt,” you said affectionately, the door opening naturally as you offered him pets. “Where’s your dad at huh?” Roosevelt pulled away and went back into the room as if requesting you to follow. You did so cautiously, not wanting to intrude if Cooper wasn’t decent, and closed the door behind you. “Mr. Howard?” you called again.

“In here!” he finally answered back.

You moved further into the space until you spotted him in front of the large mirror beside his bed, a deep blue shimmery tie dangling from his neck and a yellow one with polka dots that he was holding up for comparison in one of his free hands. He sighed.

“So you’ve been stuck in here for an hour picking a tie?” you asked lightly, a soft smile on your lips. He spotted you in the mirror and gave a halfhearted chuckle.

“I guess so,” he said. You could tell he was deflated, and rightfully so. The blue of his attire was so deep it was almost black—on brand as always but subtle enough to feel like he was mourning something. Appropriate but in combination with his tone, it made you feel sad. He wasn’t just your boss for the last couple of years, he was your friend, and you cared about him, about his family. It hurt you to see them being torn apart like this but you knew it had to be for a reason… a world-shattering one to bring divorce into it.

You stepped a bit closer, smile and tone still soft.

“May I, Mr. Howard?” you asked and held out a hand. Cooper turned to you with heavy eyes, lingering on your face in a way that made you want to pull him into a tight hug, but you resisted. He held out the tie for you to take and you did so, approaching him and laying the fabric gently against his shoulder to compare. You could feel his eyes on your face as you contemplated between the two items that had supposedly kept him in his bedroom this long.

“Be honest with me…” he whispered. “Did I royally fuck this all up?” Your eyes tilted up to his, a tight-lipped smile growing as you considered him. It was a vulnerable question. He was hurting, you could see it in the way he held himself, the slouched shoulders, semi-puffy eyelids, and the tone of his words. Meaningful conversations were not uncommon for the two of you, especially when he felt out of his depth about something or needed reassurance, but you hadn’t expected him to even mention the divorce to you right now.

“I think…” you started, cautious again. “You love Janey and Barb, so so much.” Your fingers wrapped around the tie that’d been hanging loosely around his neck so you could gently remove it. His eyes flicked to your movements briefly before returning to your face. You tossed the pieces of fabric onto the dresser. “And if whatever made you feel like this was the right course of action… Well…” You adjusted the collar of his shirt—the top two buttons were undone already in that casual style he liked—and brushed the shoulders of his deep blue, velvety blazer. You looked him directly in the eye. “I think you should trust your gut.”

Cooper returned the gaze. He nodded slowly, your words absorbed like water in limestone. You stepped back and removed your hands from his shoulders, but stopped when you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, just enough pressure to keep you from turning away. He gave you the biggest smile he could muster and put both his hands over yours.

“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for being here. For everythin’ lately.”

“Of course,” you replied and squeezed his hands back with yours. It felt like he was tethering himself back to reality in a way, the veil of his pain and heartache lifting enough for him to feel a little closer to normal. Only a little though. “You sure you want to go out there? I can tell ‘em all to scram if you really want me to,” you offered, tone playful though you fully meant it. That earned an amused huff out of him and he released you, the warmth from his palms lingering on your skin.

“Nah, s’alright,” he said. You reached for the whiskey glass on the dresser that he looked to have been sipping from before you arrived; it was just under halfway full. The ice clinked against the sides of the glass as you handed it to him.

“I guess you’d better get out there, Mr. Howard.”

“It’d seem so,” he said, taking the glass from you. You watched him close his eyes and inhale deeply, finding his center again. Roosevelt whined softly from his dog bed. “Alright,” he muttered a little reluctantly. Cooper took a couple steps past you and you were content to follow behind him had he not stopped, your name leaving his lips as a question.

“Yes?”

“Just…” He nibbled at the inside of his lip and offered you his elbow. “Just Cooper tonight, alright? I need somebody to treat me like a normal person.”

“Sure thing, Cooper,” you said with a smile, taking the offer and giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you.” Cooper shifted his shoulders beside you, no doubt holding all of his tension there, and you made a mental note to schedule a spa day for him. You both walked toward the door. “You look lovely by the way, m’sure Sebastian was makin’ eyes at you.”

“Sebastian Leslie can keep his eyeballs to himself,” you said with a roll of your eyes and a smile. “I’m not interested.”

“Look at you, breakin’ the hearts of Hollywood’s most eligibles,” he said. You dug your elbow playfully into his side. “Come on, back to the wolves we go.”

“Last chance. I can still run ‘em off,” you said.

“You’re a terrifyin’ lil’ force of nature, but, unfortunately, these investors' pocketbooks are what’s gonna keep the lights on.”

“Then let’s put that movie star charm to good use,” you said.

“You think I’m charmin’? Psh. I remember distinctly hearin’ you call me a pain in the ass on set the other day,” he joked, sipping his whiskey.

“That’s because you were being a pain in the ass,” you responded coolly.

“Yeah… Yeah, I was,” he laughed—a genuine sound you were happy to hear given the circumstances—as the two of you left the room and traversed the hallway decorated in Cooper’s accolades back toward the bustling party.

Months had passed since the night of the party, tension inevitably brewing between Cooper and Barb every time he’d double or triple down on the divorce. You’d stayed out of their way, performing the necessary functions asked of you like you had already started to do, and offered an ear when asked of you. Barb never did though. In fact, it felt like she avoided you completely, probably because you were essentially an extension of Cooper by job, even when you did your best to show you held no animosity toward her.

You still didn’t know why Cooper even wanted the divorce. It wouldn’t have been fair to him, her, or Janey if you treated her differently. So you stayed quiet and offered pleasantries she often barely acknowledged. The day the divorce was finalized you had been waiting outside of the courthouse for Cooper, an unpleasant backdrop of paparazzi waiting for them to depart so they could prey on their misery.

Barb was the first to exit, sunglasses covering her eyes, but they didn’t block the passing look she gave you that felt like you had been stabbed in the chest. You’d learned that you were just another ‘casualty’ of the divorce, because not only would Cooper have gotten you regardless, but he also got primary custody of Janey too. So she was probably pissed. Even Cooper didn’t offer much, understandably so, requesting to be taken home immediately and to be left alone for the rest of the day.

All you could do was frown and try not to take it personally… but it was certainly hard not to at times.

Now, you felt your nerves ignite as you turned the engine of the car off in front of Barb’s new house. It was a deep feeling in your chest but one you couldn’t let get the better of you. So, you climbed out of your car, went around the other side, and opened up the back door for Janey whose expression had been sunken every day since the divorce.

You did your best to give her some normalcy when you could, to ease just how bad the divide between Cooper and Barb actually was, but no amount of ice cream, roller rinks, and other well-intentioned distractions could do that. Especially when her parents had both dived deeply into their work as their way to escape the pain.

“You want me to carry your backpack?” you asked, watching as the young girl fidgeted with her fingers.

“I don’t wanna go with, Mommy,” she muttered, practically a whisper. Your expression shifted into a frown but you expected this to happen at some point. Using the door to keep your balance in your heels—opting for a more casual pencil skirt and button-up combo today—you squatted beside her.

“Why not?” you asked. She shifted again, hesitating.

“I dunno, she’s just, never really home so I have to stay with Miss Leah most of the time.”

“But Miss Leah is nice though, isn’t she?”

“I guess,” she said. “But… But I have more fun with you and Daddy.” Your heart dropped a little. “Miss Leah doesn’t take me to the roller rink like you do.”

“It’s not a competition hun,” you said softly, which only made her frown. You held out your hands, palm up, and waited. Despite not being a child of divorce, you’d seen the repercussions of it in your friends growing up, and you could certainly empathize with her. After a few moments, she placed her hands into yours and you gave her a comforting squeeze, a tight-lipped smile on your lips. “Your parents are trying their best. I know that’s not what you want to hear right now, but I promise you it’s true.”

“Why did they get divorced?” she asked, small tears building in her eyes. This wasn’t a conversation you’d expected to have right now but, honestly, you couldn’t blame her… Your hands squeezed hers again.

“Unfortunately, I can’t answer that for them,” you said.

Janey’s mouth opened to say something else but her eyes flicked behind you and it closed immediately. You had a feeling you knew why so you gave her shoulder a little rub before standing, guess confirmed by the sound of a pair of heels behind you.

Barb, who’d left her porch to make her way down the walkway toward you both, eyes on her daughter.

“Janey, baby,” she said, arms open and waiting. Janey’s eyes flicked to you for the briefest moment as she hopped out of the car and embraced her mother. 

“Hi, Mommy,” she responded.

You closed the door behind her, a little terrified to face Barb fully just from the general feelings you were getting, but you did so with hands on your hips and a smile.

“Hello,” you said. Her gaze turned to you, your name leaving her mouth in such a way that you could feel your nerves surge for a moment and a knot twist in your stomach. You cleared your throat. “Uh, Cooper said he’s going to pick her up next Sunday once his shoots are done—”

“Cooper?” she asked, smile twisting in a way that felt dangerous. You furrowed your eyebrows in slight confusion. “No more ‘Mister Howard’?... Interesting.”

Oh.

Oh no.

“Barb,” you tried, cautiously casual as you tried to deflect whatever she was trying to say.

“You can tell, Cooper,” she said and you took a deep breath. “We agreed on Friday.” Janey looked between you two. Your heart pounded. Nothing had happened between you two, where was this coming from? You’d never even entertained the idea of something like that nor had Cooper ever tried. He was your boss, this was his family, and your function was to make their lives as easy as you could.

“Yes, but he’ll be on set every day and I have to be there too, so he was hoping—”

Barb held up her hand. Your jaw clenched.

“Next time he needs to change his mind about our agreed schedule, he can call me himself instead of sending you.”

“He tried, but you didn’t pick up,” you said. Janey looked up to her mother before leaving her grip and making her way inside. Barb’s gaze followed her until she heard the door close and then turned back to you. Before she could say anything else, it was you who held up a hand. “I have nothing but respect for you, Barb. I always have. I’m just trying to help.”

“I’m sure you are,” Barb said, venom in her tone.

“Barb, please—”

“Just let him know I’ll figure it out. I always do,” she said and promptly turned away. You didn’t say anything in return, simply watched her disappear into the house, and you took a long, steadying breath. Your hands were shaking still when you climbed back into the driver’s seat.

The set was abuzz when you arrived, a stack of papers—a new version of the film’s script for Cooper to review—in the crook of one of your arms and a black coffee in your opposite hand. You weaved through all the busy bees, giving a few friendly nods, and headed directly for the trailers.

It was just before midday when you arrived on the lot, less shaken than your initial drive over from Barb’s, but still haunted by her words and expressions. You were completely innocent, never sparing a glance in Cooper’s direction in a way less than professional. He was never uncouth and never made an errant comment in your direction, his eyes were always on Barb. It wounded some part of you to know she thought you would do that to her.

Cooper Howard was your boss. That was that.

Your knuckles rapped at the door, the contents of the cup sloshing.

“Mr. Howard?” you tried over the sounds of all the bustling workers. Your knuckles hit the door again, this time so hard the coffee slipped out of the lid and almost threatened to stain the script gripped opposite of it. “Cooper?”

Still nothing.

An impatient sigh left you and, instead of waiting for his reply, you expertly utilized your fingers to open the door and stepped inside. The trailer was cool enough to combat the heat outside, a welcome reprieve, and it didn’t take you long to find Cooper. Your jaw clenched.

He was sprawled out on the dark leather couch, head propped up on the arm, and half-dressed in his costume for the movie. The spurs of the boot he had up on the other arm dug into the material, pants on with the top button popped, and his shirt completely undone which exposed his chest. It was like he’d made an attempt to get ready but never finished. His signature white cowboy hat was tilted down over his eyes.

“Cooper,” you said, trying to be firm enough to get his attention. His chest moved steadily up and down and when you took a step toward him, the distinct smell of whiskey hit your nose. Then you spotted it, a glass on the floor with his fingers loosely around the edges as though forgotten in his slumber. A tinge of frustration rippled through you and if you were honest with yourself, some disappointment, and it took all of your willpower and respect for Cooper not to just rip him off the couch and onto the floor. “Cooper.” Your voice was louder, tone much firmer, as you gave the boot dangling to the floor a nice kick.

“What the hell—” Cooper’s words slurred a little as he fixed his hat. “Oh, hey sweetheart.” The nickname fell on unappreciative ears and tumbled into the tension building in the space.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said, irritation rising in your chest. “Are you drunk right now? When you’re supposed to be on set in 45 minutes?”

“Just had a coupl’a sips of whiskey s’all,” he responded, accent thicker than usual and riddled with sleep. With a controlled but frustrated sigh, you slapped the script onto the nearest surface—a little more gentle with the coffee—and stood next to the couch with your hands on your hips.

“Just a coupl’a sips,” you mocked. Cooper peaked out from under his hat.

“Hey, now, that ain’t nice,” he said as he pointed one of his index fingers at you. You moved the whiskey glass next to the coffee.

“Nice?” You gave an indignant huff, reaching down to grab onto his forearm. “You’re making my job a lot harder than it should be right now.” Cooper’s head lolled lazily, just like the rest of him, but he made what appeared to be an effort when you pulled him off the couch and to his feet. He wobbled, chest hairs tickling your hand as you tried to steady him. “I don’t have to be nice. I have to get you out on that soundstage.”

Cooper chuckled, the smell of liquor wafting over your nostrils, and said, “There she is. My own personal force’a nature.”

You looked up at his face finally, intending to show him just how much destruction you wanted to cause, and felt something unfamiliar pang throughout your body. It sat uncomfortably in your chest.

“Could topple’a building with that damn look,” he muttered.

Your heart thundered in your chest. This was the closest you’d ever been to Cooper for more than the few seconds a hug required—and you were hyper-aware of your hand still on his chest. You didn’t know what to do. You’d never seen him drunk like this, messy, let alone on set. He was always so professional, polite, and just generally kind to most people. You could almost always count on him to be in his right mind.

You pulled your hand away from him, only to feel him place his own over yours to keep it against his chest. Your entire body tensed.

“Cooper,” you warned, eyes holding his. The rich green-brown of his were muted by the shadow of his hat and minimal light in the trailer, but nothing could hide the way they searched your entire face and lingered on your lips. “You’re drunk.”

“Only a couple’a sips—”

“Your demeanor would beg to differ—”

“What’s it to ya, huh? Why do’ya care if I am?” he asked, drunken defensiveness in his tone. That struck you in a way that snapped you out of the haze you were teetering on the edge of. You pulled your hand away from him and took a full step back. A long breath released from your lungs, nostrils flaring. “Cooper Howard needs to be the prize fuckin’ horse all the time, huh?”

“Sugarfoot is the prize horse,” you responded in the same dry tone you’d provided Barb earlier in the day. Cooper swayed in place and chewed on the inner part of his lip while he considered you. Your dismissal wasn’t meant to be hurtful but you’d dealt with enough of the shockwaves of this divorce for one day. 

“Then make the horse say the fuckin’ lines.”

“Maybe we should if you’re going to be drunk in your trailer—” You checked your watch, a gift for your first anniversary of working for him. “—Now 30 minutes before your call time.” Cooper sucked his teeth in response. “What happened to make you do this? Was it the director? Vault-Tec?... Barb?”

“Watch it now,” Cooper warned as he pointed at you again and took a step closer. You stood your ground.

“Or what, Mr. Howard?” you asked with a bit more venom, your frustration starting to boil over. “You're gonna fire the only person aside from your daughter who’s been truly looking out for you? Especially since the divorce?” Your hand moved, smacking his index finger away from you. His expression shifted momentarily, taken aback by the gesture. “I’ve already had to dodge Janey’s unanswerable questions about her parents and deal with Barb’s accusations today. So if you want to make an ass out of yourself on set, you sure as shit can do it on your own.”

You turned to leave. Cooper said your name and reached for you.

“No,” you said sternly with a face contorted in anger. “Sort your shit out and maybe I’ll see you on set tomorrow.” You opened the door but stopped just at the bottom of the steps when you heard your name again, turning ever so slightly to look at him. Cooper’s expression had shifted into one that was difficult to parse. A mixture of sadness and anger if you had to guess.

“Please… Don’t go,” he pleaded. The words hit you in the chest, posture straightening reflexively, and a frown on your lips as you shook your head.

“I won’t be your emotional punching bag,” you responded.

With that, you left the trailer and made the trek back through the set. A few eyes followed after you, confusion evident on their brow, but no one said a word. Except for the director who asked where Cooper was and where you were going.

“He’s still getting ready. Give him an extra 15. As for me, I’m taking the rest of the day off,” you said. The tone of your response must have made him think twice about pushing for more information, especially with the way your heels thudded against the ground with every purposeful step you took across the lot.

The heat was becoming unbearable for a reason that had to be solely influenced by your heightened emotions. In the back of your mind, Barb’s accusations rung loud and clear. Your fingers tingled with the memory of being on his chest, the thin sheen of sweat that had built up in his sleep dampening your skin… you rubbed the pads of each finger together subconsciously. 

Cooper Howard was your boss. That had to be that.

The silence in your home was broken by the television and the soft snores of your golden retriever, Oliver, who’d cuddled up against your legs once you’d settled in for the night. You were half paying attention to the game show you’d landed on, mostly providing background noise as you scribbled notes in a book about screenplay writing.

It was a pastime of yours, a comfort really, something reserved for the quiet hours of your day. Some didn’t understand, like your parents, why you worked for a movie star daily, helped with movies and scripts, and still came home to read books about it all.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to deal with their questions often now that this was considered ‘your’ house. It was the one you’d grown up in and returned to after college. They thought about selling it numerous times, but since it was so close to Cooper’s—and many other Hollywood elite—they thought it better if you occupied it for now. Retirement was one hell of a paycheck for them and their sun tans were evidence of it every time they came back for the holiday of their choosing. Or sometimes… just not at all.

But you were okay with that.

Your eyes started to get heavy, words blurring on the page, and fingers loosening around your pen. You’d have succumbed to it if a sudden knock on your door didn’t startle both you and Oliver, who barked at the sound. The possibilities of guests this late were slim to none. Solicitors? At this hour? Your home didn’t have a gate like the movie stars around you so it sometimes made them feel bold…

Your eyebrows furrowed but you got to your feet as quietly as possible, adjusting your silk sleep shorts and matching camisole, and tiptoed into the entryway. Oliver followed close behind but stopped just behind you to observe. You moved up onto your tiptoes to gaze through the peephole, loose braid swaying against you with every movement. The person beyond it—

With a quick flick of your wrist, you unlocked the door, inhaled deeply, and pulled it open.

“Mr. Howard,” you said evenly through the medium-sized crack in the door. His lips tightened a little at your intentional professionalism. 

Your eyes floated over him enough to see he was dressed down—the sleeves of his half-untucked blue button-up pulled up messily with the top three buttons undone, worn jeans you rarely saw him in, some even older-looking boots worn with dirt, and hair partially disheveled. In one hand he held a fast food bag with the logo of a chain you loved and in the other, a simple bouquet of your favorite flower.

“What can I do for you?” you added. The same flame you’d felt earlier in the day when you found him in the trailer was a fizzle of embers, barely a wisp of the same feeling. So you’d hear him out at the very least.

“I know it’s late,” he started, taking what you could only assume was a steadying breath. “But… I wanted to say I’m sorry for… earlier.” Cooper wiggled the bag a little in his hand. “If you don’t wanna hear my bullshit tonight I get it, I just figured apologizin’ face to face was better than a phone call—”

You pulled the door open more, wide enough to let him in the house, and he held your gaze for a long moment. The weight of it made you shrink a little, given your attire currently, but you stood as firm as you could beside the door waiting for him to enter.

“Alright,” he whispered. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He finally removed his eyes from your face once he’d stepped inside and Oliver, who’d waited so patiently despite the loud thumps of his tail, bolted to greet Cooper. His entire body wiggled with excitement as he sniffed the man’s legs. “Hey there Ollie,” Cooper said in a slightly higher pitch. “Kitchen’s through here right?” he asked, pointing to a room to the left of the staircase. You nodded as you closed the door. “Don’t worry, I got you a small fry too,” he said to Oliver who eagerly followed beside him to the kitchen.

Once he’d moved out of sight, you rushed back into the living room to grab the silk robe that you’d tossed off of you hours ago, fastening it tightly. You felt some of the self-consciousness dissipate and when you finally entered, you found Cooper opening up the bag of food and pulling out what looked to be two burgers and some fries, which he quickly rewarded Oliver, who’d been sitting patiently next to the island where Cooper had set the food.

“You, uh,  got a vase I can put these in for you?” Cooper asked, nodding toward the bouquet. He seemed a bit timid, eyes on you, almost as if he thought you would regret your hospitality at any moment.

“I got it,” you answered and moved past him to open up one of the cupboards. Upon reaching in, the tips of your fingers grazed a clay vase that you knew. You pulled it down, gently placing it on the counter, and the lights of the kitchen reflected off of the carefully placed recycled pieces of colorful glass shards. It was a little project you’d done alongside Janey, who opted for recycled bottle caps for hers, and was an entire day of work—careful work—while babysitting her the year prior.

“Janey still has hers,” he commented as he placed a fry in his mouth. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips at that, always touched that Janey appreciates the little gestures you do for her. “She made some paper flowers for it, different colors for the people she loves in her life… Your favorite color’s in there too.”

You turned to him then and found him chewing on another fry, eyes flicking up to you. Your hand moved to the side of the vase, gently running your fingers against the material.

“That’s… so sweet,” you said softly.

“She’s real attached to you,” he added, just as soft. You believed that sentiment, you loved Janey, but you couldn’t help but feel how weighted that statement felt. Something was hovering behind it, like a shadow that danced on the edges of the light. His gaze stayed on you, expectant in a way, and that heat from earlier started to return. That tingle on your fingers…

Actual tingles. Pain.

“Ow!” you winced, pulling your hand away from the vase. You raised your hand to your line of sight, deep red trickling down your shaky index finger.

“Shit,” the two of you said in unison. Cooper was next to you in an instant, fingers pulling your hand toward him so he could inspect. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, you’d always known him to be a wonderful, attentive, husband and father, so why wouldn’t he be the same for his friends? But you still found yourself blinking in surprise, watching him intently.

“The hazards of artistic innovation,” you tried to joke. He huffed a laugh while still examining the cut.

“Don’t look too bad. You got a med kit somewhere?”

“Uh, bathroom, upstairs on the right.”

“Alright, go ‘head and wash it off, be right back,” he said and disappeared from the kitchen. Oliver followed him but didn’t leave the entryway to the kitchen, opting to wait within the line of sight of his small bag of fries.

You did as you were instructed and took a few steps toward the empty sink. The water flowed from the faucet onto your finger, blood clearing and flowing into the drain. It stung but your mind was elsewhere, occupied by Cooper’s energy tonight. His apology seemed genuine, the flowers and food thoughtful… 

Maybe you were just in your head about what had happened in the trailer, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Cooper was your boss so it was usually you doing things like this for him, Janey, hell, even Barb when they were together. Taking care of them. Maybe that was it… Yeah. That was it.

You finished rinsing the cut just as Cooper came back into the kitchen, placing the supplies he’d grabbed on the counter next to you—some rubbing alcohol, ointment, a bandage, and one of the hand towels from your bathroom. He reached for your hand, holding it gently in the palm of his over the sink. The solution hit your finger and you winced a tiny bit.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s alright,” you reassured.

He took the washcloth next and dabbed thoughtfully, eyes on your finger like it was the most important thing in the world.

“I spent some time with Sugarfoot after the shoot. Tried to, uh, clear my head,” he started. You mumbled an ‘mhm’ as you watched his movements, the ointment sliding from the tube to the cut effortlessly. “It felt… wrong, without you there today.” You hummed, still feeling a little strange about seeing him that way. It wasn’t the Cooper you knew and from this talk, it felt like he knew that too.

“I think I might’a…” He sighed, wrapping your finger in the bandage. “I might’a been takin’ advantage of just how much you do for me every day. Keepin’ me on track, takin’ care of Janey…”

You noticed he was done tending to your wound but his hand didn’t move, yours lying in his palm as his fingers gently flexed around it. Your gaze turned up and caught his eyes searching your face for any objections. You surprisingly had none.

“I don’t appreciate you enough,” he said, tone sincere as the words panged in your chest. You couldn’t remember a time when Cooper had done something like this. Minor apologies occurred here and there, of course, but never like this.

“Cooper,” you said. You reflexively turned to look down at your hands, unsure how to react to the intensity of his stare. This was more than the casual breezy times you shared together as his assistant. Especially when you felt his fingers touch your chin to return your gaze to his. It was gentle enough for you to refuse the motion, to pull away, but you found yourself allowing it. That heat was back. It crept up the back of your neck into your cheeks the longer Cooper’s fingers remained on your chin.

“I apologize for my behavior earlier,” he said and dropped his fingers. The places they’d been felt like they’d lost something and you weren’t sure if you were disappointed or not. “You’re not my emotional punchin’ bag. You’re one of the most important people in my life and I don’t want my stupid fuckin’ decisions when I’m upset to drive you away.”

You nibbled on the corner of your lip and considered his words. You’d known him long enough to see through his bullshit and this… this was the furthest thing from that. It was a vulnerable moment for him and you could tell not his proudest either.

“You’re not going to miss your call time tomorrow, right?” you asked. You hadn’t realized just how close you’d been, neck craning a bit to look up at him. He chuckled which instinctively made you smile.

“Yes ma’am,” he said. You rolled your eyes as you finally removed your hand from his—which had remained curled around yours almost the whole conversation—and approached the island. Oliver had fallen asleep while you two were conversing but his head perked up the moment he heard you open the food bag.

“Well, Mr. Howard, we should eat this before it gets even colder,” you said.

“Damn, still in the doghouse then, huh?” he asked, stepping up next to you, shoulder brushing against yours.

“For now,” you joked, looking up at him for a moment. “We’ll see how I feel after you make it to that call time.” You held up his burger and he chuckled, taking it from your grasp.

“Bright and early then,” he conceded. You smiled and took a nice, hearty bite out of your apology burger.

“Lookin’ awful hard at that,” Cooper said from the other side of the hot tub. “Somethin’ I need to worry ‘bout?”

You spared a glance away from the script atop your knees—you weren’t in the hot tub with him, instead perched on the wooden stairs that led down from it. Since filming had wrapped for his most recent movie, you weren’t due on set with him today and opted for a more casual outfit; some shorts that had migrated a bit further down from your knees when you sat, a strapless top that tucked into them, and your hair tied up in a scarf. Your free hand fiddled with the chain of your necklace as you tapped a bare foot against the stairs. 

While the luxuries of the Howard household were open for you to utilize at any point, per Cooper’s explicit reminders as of late, it was too warm and you had business to conduct with him and this script.

“Aside from the fact that it’s pure Vault-Tec slop?” you asked, distaste evident in your tone. He let out a breath of laughter as he took a sip from the gin martini you’d prepared for him. Your own martini glass sat on the tray next to the cup of olives, untouched, as you sat bewildered by the script in your hands. Your voice turned almost sing-songy as you lifted the script up to read, “‘Strong enough to keep out the rads and the Reds’...” Your face scrunched into distaste. “Who wrote this? An intern?”

“Someone named Bolt Ass-skins or somethin’, I don’t remember,” he said and sipped more from his martini. You snorted a little in response.

“Well, it does exactly what it needs to, unfortunately,” you sighed and tapped your pen against the papers. “Peddling safety and exclusivity from a make-believe nuclear nightmare…” You stared down at the paper, teeth gently nibbling the inside of your cheek absently. “Because who should be saved but the rich and elite.”

There was a small moment of quiet after that, your mind taking you elsewhere, a place where Vault-Tec’s fear-mongering might be true and you and your family were left in the nuclear dust, lost to time and dispersed to the universe with every gust of wind that passed over your bones. Forgotten.

The water sloshed a bit as Cooper moved toward your side of the tub and you snapped back to the present. Your assistant mode kicked in and, though Cooper looked to be reaching for the olives, you got to them first.

“You’d have one too, you know,” he said casually. Your brow furrowed as you turned your eyes down to him, olive plopping softly in the glass he held out. “You & Ollie—right next to me and Janey… or with us, if you wanted.”

“That’s… That’s kind of you, Cooper, but I could never ask you to do that—”

“I know, but you don’t need to,” he said. The sun caught the green-brown of his eyes, the salt in his pepper hair glistening as he looked up at you. “Hell, I’ll even put some money down for your family if you want them there too.”

“As long as you put them on the other side of the vault,” you joked, which earned a laugh from him and made you chuckle.

“Consider it done,” he said, with a smirk that you rolled your eyes at. You didn’t doubt Cooper’s sincerity about that offer but it was so grandiose, so out of your ballpark of realism, that you couldn’t truly consider it. “What time is it?” he asked suddenly. 

You rolled your wrist enough to see the time on your watch and said, “Just after one.”

“I should go shower real fast so I can get Janey from school,” he said and drank the rest of his martini, and the olive, in one motion. “Maybe later we’ll go grab some ice cream at that place y’all like. Forget about that Vault-Tec stuff for a little while.”

“Hard to forget when you’ve got that photoshoot coming up in a couple of days and they still haven’t given you the dress code,” you said.

“Suit and tie until otherwise notified,” he commented nonchalantly, proud of his rhyme. You watched as he stood, just long enough to see his exposed chest, and turned away when the top of his small cobalt swim shorts—practically a speedo—peaked over the top of the water. You reached behind you for his towel and offered it to him without looking. He made a noise, something like a chuckle.

“Come on, up with ya.” Cooper gave your exposed thigh a little tap, water trickling down your skin, signaling he was headed for the exit of the hot tub. You moved instantly, making your way down the small wooden staircase attached to the adjacent tub, and focused back on the script. He joined your stride back up to the house, still dripping wet and with the towel around his neck now, but you kept your eyes on the words in front of you.

“So, any edits then? Or is the slop good enough?”

“Even if I did, I don’t think Vault-Tec would give a damn about them,” you said. Cooper held the backdoor open for you, the cool air of the house a welcome reprieve from the hot tub’s steam and the sun’s rays. “I’ll give this another once over while you shower. Just for posterity.”

“You’re gon’ have that memorized before I do.”

“I usually do,” you said with a wide smile intended to ooze playful sarcasm. This time he rolled his eyes. “Now go.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, hands up as he walked toward the staircase, Roosevelt in tow. You resisted the temptation to peek up at him, eyes rereading the same line over and over until you heard both of them disappear fully upstairs. An exhale left you, a tinge of heat on your cheeks, and you found yourself slapping the papers onto the nearest surface to get yourself an ice-cold glass of water. It hadn’t been that hot outside, but you felt like you were slowly burning up on the inside… or at least your face did.

You had found a place on the couch to wait for Cooper and reread this script for the millionth time, two full glasses of ice water downed, when the doorbell rang. Cooper hadn’t told you about any guests paying a visit. You placed the script on the coffee table and padded toward the door. A quick peek through the peephole revealed a man in a suit, who looked a tad nervous and carried a medium-sized box in his hand branded with the Vault-Tec logo. You opened the door and put on your friendliest smile.

“Hello, how can I help you?” you asked.

“Oh, uh, hi, I’m… Is Cooper Howard home?” the man asked.

“I’m his assistant, how can I help you?” you repeated, your tone sickeningly sweet in the face of this man. He chuckled nervously.

“His assistant, right, right,” he said like the information had just dawned on him. “I’m sorry to, um, bother him here, at his home. I’m actually an assistant too—Miss Howard’s—and I was told to deliver this to him.” Miss Howard… Your eyebrows rose slightly at the mention of Barb having her own assistant now, but you staved off your curiosity and nodded along.

“Nice to meet you, Mister…?”

“MacLean. Hank MacLean,” he said with a big smile.

“Nice to meet you Hank,” you said, reaching your hand out to shake his. He obliged, despite fumbling with the package for a moment. “Can I ask what this package is for…?”

“It’s Mr. Howard’s suit for the upcoming photoshoot. Custom made for him,” he clarified. Hank offered you the box and you took it with the same smile you’d given him originally. “Between you and I, I’m a big fan of his, and I’d love to meet him at some point.”

You gave your business laugh and nodded your head before saying, “I’m sure you’ll get the chance. I’ll get this to Mr. Howard right away. Nice to meet you, Mr. MacLean.” You slowly closed the door, a bit of surprise on his face.

“Nice to meet you as well! I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other a lot in the future. You know, assistants and all.”

“Looking forward to it,” you said before you fully closed the door and promptly locked it. The smile disappeared from your lips. The Vault-Tec logo felt obnoxious, as was most of what they did, and the box felt like it had a bit of weight to it. Despite your immediate curiosity, you made your way upstairs and approached Cooper’s bedroom.

“Cooper?” you called into the space.

“Still in the shower!” he called back. “Everything alright?”

You moved further into the room and approached the bathroom door, which was cracked. The steam trickled out like a fog, dissipating into the cool air of the rest of the house. Roosevelt was asleep in his dog bed.

“Yeah, you got a package from Vault-Tec!”

“Vault-Tec? What’s in it?” he asked over the running water.

“Dunno, haven’t opened it yet. Barb’s new assistant delivered it though. He seems… nice.”

“New assistant?” Cooper laughed.

“Yeah, he was real keen on meeting you, Mr. Howard,” you said and he responded with an amused noise.

You moved into the room, looking for something sharp to open up this package, and settled on the pocketknife Cooper had sitting out on his dresser next to one of his signature white cowboy hats he’d kept from set. It opened with a click, and you slid it over the packing tape, right through the Vault-Tec logo, and opened the box up. Inside was a suit, but not a classic suit, more similar to a jumpsuit in his signature cobalt and trimmed with yellow. You were intrigued, but also, confused, as you closed the pocketknife and placed it on the sheets. The water in the bathroom cut off.

“Well, it’s a suit but not— OH!” You had turned to shout back to Cooper when your eyes found him emerging from the bathroom and approaching you, with only a towel around his waist. You’d glimpsed a bit of his leg as he walked, peeking from the material, all the way up to his hip. No undergarments in sight. You instantaneously spun around, back toward him, and fire blazed in your cheeks. Picking out ties was one thing, but this… This was new. “I’m so sorry, I can leave.”

“Ain’t much different than seeing me in that hot tub,” he said.

You clenched your teeth, throat bobbing as you contemplated how to best remove yourself from the situation. There was a small part of you, one you didn’t even realize existed, that wished you’d turn around. It yearned for it… Yearned. No. You stifled the feeling with embarrassment, stomping it out the best you could.

“I don’t want to be disrespectful,” you managed.

“Y’ain’t,” he said, so instantly, so certainly, that it made you hyper-aware of your rising heartbeat. You heard movement, both exhilarating and nerve-wracking for a reason you couldn’t place. The hair you’d released from your scarf earlier framed your face, nurturing the heat in your cheeks.

You practically jumped when you heard Cooper’s voice right next to your ear.

“If you’re so concerned about it, why don’t you hold onto this for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice low and breath tickling your ear. The heat from the shower radiated from his bare chest and settled gently against your back, his body inches from yours, you’d realized. Your breath hitched.

Before you could indulge in any further self-examination, you felt a pressure on top of your head, and through your eyelashes, you could make out the brim of Cooper’s cowboy hat. He’d leaned it far enough forward that it blocked anything that wasn’t directly below you.

“There. Good now, darlin’?” he said in the same tone as before. Your body felt as though it wanted to melt, but whether you wanted to melt into Cooper or the floor was the concern you were met with.

“Yes, sir,” you said, professionalism tainted by the breathiness of your response. A sound of acknowledgment left him, some sort of ‘mm’, and your shoulders tensed even more. The sun’s beams had nothing on the heat you felt trickling down your throat and pooling all in your gut.

“At least it’s in my colors,” he said, neutral, from behind you. You heard the shuffling of material like he’d pulled the suit out of the box and promptly dropped it back down without much thought. Then you heard his footsteps move away from you. “Ice cream tonight, right?” he asked.

You turned, finally, and lifted the brim enough to see him walking away, water trailing down his broad shoulders and back.

“Right,” you said.

When he reached the bathroom door he turned his face enough to see you watching him. A smirk crept onto his lips.

“Looks good on you,” he said, words genuine but laced with a bit of smugness like he’d proved something to himself. Or maybe to you. Without much else, he slipped into the bathroom and left you there with that pool of lava in your stomach. Even a gallon of ice cream wouldn’t be able to fix that.

“So, has he said anything about the script? Any notes?” Bud Askins asked you, voice full of that corporate confidence that only a pressed suit and a 401k could exude. Your arms were crossed and your eyes remained on Cooper who stood before the camera. He’d just found his stride with a charming thumbs up that had everyone exhilarated like he’d invented the damn gesture in the first place. Even Barb, who stood a few feet from you, on the opposite side of the camera, was sporting a smile. One that she probably thought no one would see except Cooper; he hadn’t spared a single glance at her. If he wasn’t looking at the camera… he was looking at you.

You caught the corner of your bottom lip with your canine to resist returning his smile.

Bud addressed you again.

“Hm?” You tore your eyes from Cooper to look up at Bud who was all smiles and borderline insufferable puppy dog eyes. His endearing allure was stifled by the knowledge that he was some sort of head honcho at Vault-Tec. “Oh, no notes,” you whispered back with a smile. He nodded back as the photographer shouted something out to Cooper that sounded encouraging.

 You naturally looked at the photographer and caught Barb looking over at you. The two of you locked eyes for what felt longer than it was before she turned away from you, expression slipping to something you couldn’t recognize. A frown tugged at your lips that you didn’t hide fast enough, Cooper’s eyes on you again while he adjusted to a new pose. So quickly you might not have caught it if you didn’t know him as well as you did.

The photos carried on for another ten or so minutes, Bud Askins desperately trying to converse with you about Cooper and his opinions, to which you answered most with ‘I’m not sure’, despite knowing the answers to everything. Once the photographer called a wrap on the shoot, Cooper exhaled and started to head toward you. He shook a few hands along the way, flashing that Hollywood smile at everyone.

“Man–” he started, reaching out to grab your arm. Barb intercepted it, hand gripping his upper arm while simultaneously stepping a bit between the two of you. It was so swift that you had no time to react.

“Cooper, we’ve got some business to discuss before you go,” Barb said. The tone of her voice sounded just as insincere as Bud’s. All corporate with a tinge of bite that was likely reserved specifically for you. You smiled at Cooper.

“I’ve got scripts to review, I’ll just meet you back at your trailer,” you said. Cooper looked between the two of you but understood, giving a small nod. “Barb,” you said respectfully. She said your name but it held nothing. 

Cooper gazed back at you as she led him away, gaze apologetic. While you absolutely could have been part of that conversation as his assistant, there was a sort of guilt eating at you for the other day with the cowboy hat. Guilt that you were almost sure Barb could sniff out and exploit if she wanted to. Despite being fully capable of standing up for yourself, the last thing you wanted to do was cause more problems for Cooper and Janey.

So you walked back to his trailer and settled yourself on the couch you’d found him passed out on weeks ago. A deep exhale left your body, the heaviness of being around Vault-Tec wasn’t the same as being on a movie set. The egos could rival each other of course but you’d take arguing with a director over one of those suits any day.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you finally heard the trailer door swing open. The force of it immediately drew your now widened eyes and you caught Cooper’s crimson-kissed cheeks and scowl as he slammed behind him. He walked past you with a muttered ‘sorry’ and to the room at the back he used to get dressed. He didn’t close that door. You peered to the front door, half expecting Barb to charge in behind him, but nothing.

“Cooper?” you tried loud enough for him to hear. Silence, only the faint sound of him fussing with the suit. Your brows furrowed, concern building as you placed the scripts to the side and moved toward the room he’d disappeared into. From the short hallway you could see Cooper with his back towards you, hands pressed against the vanity and head hung low. “Coop,” you said again, softer. He took in a steadying breath.

“Help me get outta this thing, would’ya?” he replied loud enough for you to hear. “It’s hot as shit.”

“Sure thing.”

Cooper turned to face you, the tinge of red you’d seen color his face was now a light pink. He’d already brought his zipper down to his waist, a thin white undershirt peeking from beneath. Curiosity danced across your mind as he reached out one of his arms to you, your fingers hooking into his sleeve securely. He tugged and wiggled to free himself.

“What’s bothering you, Coop?” you asked. You looked up at him but he didn’t look at you.

“Nothin’,” he attempted. You answered with a deadpan stare.

“Try again.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth while he contemplated. It could’ve been a handful of things with him, but there was only one person here who could get under his skin like this. You just weren’t going to say it.

He hummed an irritated noise, giving up on freeing himself from the suit, and ran his free hand through his hair. His eyes finally settled on your face.

“You got plans tonight?” he asked suddenly.

“Why?”

“Just–” He looked like he’d bitten back some frustration that was threatening to spill over onto you. “Do you want to get outta town with me? Just for a little while?”

The way he looked at you made your heart sink. Cooper and Janey meant the world to you and you hated to see him so rattled—it made you want to do anything in your power to resolve or ease it.

“I don’t need my assistant, I just…” Cooper’s free hand reached up and, for a moment, you thought he’d touch your face. You found yourself unopposed to the idea. Instead, though, you caught his hesitation, another fleeting moment, just before he redirected himself to your upper arm. It was a gentle touch, but one that felt like it meant more than either of you would admit. Grounding. “I just want your company.”

You gave him a slow nod.

“Where’d you want to go?” you asked with a gentle smile that he tried to match.

Not as an assistant, but as a friend… You could do that.

The sun was setting by the time you’d left the city, the Hollywood sign had long since faded into the distance behind you both. You’d been in Cooper’s Kaiser Darrin before, always enamored by the convertible with its sleek pastel yellow design and the quiet cruise it offered wherever it arrived. Typically, the subtle hum of the radio or idle chatter kept any empty air from feeling awkward or strange, but tonight this two-seater never felt more suffocating. 

You couldn’t tell where the nerves were coming from. You had no idea where he was taking you, but you trusted him so it couldn’t be coming from that. Years, you’d spent years as Cooper’s assistant and accompanied him to plenty of places both professional and casual, even with Janey. There was no reason you should’ve felt as tense as you did during the drive.

Whether Cooper noticed or not, you had no idea. Since leaving his house—after dropping off Oliver to keep Roosevelt company and pester the dog sitter for fries—he’d been quiet, though his interactions were brief but not mean. Whatever happened at the photoshoot had him tangled up in his mind.

The radio remained off for at least the first hour, sounds of the city filling your ears, including the loud comments people considered whispers as they ogled the movie star temporarily halted by the stop light. You did your best to avoid their stares, big sunglasses and a headscarf were barely a comfort. People who cared about that stuff knew you were his assistant but all it took was one rumor to sweep through and potentially ruin everything. Cooper remained unbothered about all of that too.

When he finally turned on the radio, the sunset was casting all of its hues of tangerine, gold, and violets over the highway. The tinkle of the opening piano keys to ‘Don’t Fence Me In’ played loud enough for you to recognize and suddenly the sunset was no longer your focus, it was Cooper’s voice.

You’d heard him sing a tune before, especially at home dancing with Janey, or even Barb, but you never gave it much thought. Never really listened. He was no Sinatra, but he didn’t need to be. He sang for himself, effort elevating with every word, voice piercing through the wind to reach you. Despite not sparing a glance at you and his casual demeanor—one arm propped on the car door while the other handled the wheel—you could sense an underlying context. Something deeply personal seeping through. You wouldn’t pry, not right now anyway, so instead… you sang too.

Cooper finally spared a glance at you then and you did the same. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips but he hid it with his free hand, both of you returning your attention to the road ahead of you. 

“Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies… Don't fence me in,” you both sang.

The tension you’d felt began to ease, continuing your duet and releasing the pressure that’d built up in your shoulders. You sang for the wind too, let it dance on its wisps to twist and mingle with Cooper’s, released into the evening air.

It took another hour or so before you left the highway and the hills started to have tall trees, until eventually, the tree-lined road led to an imposing gate for a community you couldn’t quite make-out. Your curiosity peaked further as Cooper slowed the car and approached a booth with a security guard already leaning out to greet him.

“Coop!” the guard greeted, a big smile on his face.

“Hey, Henderson,” he answered. The two exchanged a handshake before the guard’s attention turned to you. Immediately you felt a wave of unease wash over you, that paranoia you’d felt earlier in the city with the fans on the street.

“Hello,” you greeted. To your surprise, the guard greeted you by your last name and a friendly nod.

“What brings you both out here?” Henderson asked. There seemed to be a genuine curiosity about him, nothing nefarious, but your worry was gnawing at your psyche again.

“Needed some quiet,” Cooper said. “City’s too loud.”

“Tch, I think that every morning when I have to drive home,” Henderson chuckled. He reached back into the booth to write something down on a clipboard before he pressed a button that began opening the gate.

“Jim still outta town filmin’ that movie?” Cooper asked.

“Sure is,” he responded. “But you know you and yours are always welcome here. Glenda will clean up in the morning like usual.”

“Thanks, Henderson,” Cooper said and, without you even realizing, had pulled a hundred dollar bill out to hand to the man, which he promptly took. “Say hi to the wife and kids for me.”

“Will do,” he said with a salute, bill still between his fingers. “Enjoy your time away from the big city.”

Cooper waved casually and moved the vehicle forward into the darkness, headlights illuminating the paved road and trees around it. Some roads led to obvious houses in the distance, while others remained out of sight, and it only took a couple of minutes before a charming cottage came into view. While it was undoubtedly expensive, it wasn’t too over the top, surprisingly quaint. Two stories, modest windows, rich brown wooden sidings with dark trimmings, and lovely greenery partially illuminated by the front porch light.

The car came to a slow stop just below the porch.

“Where are we?” you finally asked as Cooper turned off the engine.

“Somewhere quiet,” he repeated, voice quieter than you’d anticipated. You didn’t push, instead turning your attention to your seatbelt as he got out of the car. Before you could reach for your door handle Cooper was already sliding your door open and offering his hand to you. “C’mon.” You nodded and placed your hand in his, legs aching from the long car ride when you finally stood. He didn’t hold on for very long, the feeling gone as quickly as it started, so you followed him to the front door.

Cooper caught your apprehensiveness, probably in your body language alone, so while fiddling with a set of keys, he said, “No one’s home. An old actor friend’a mine barely uses it, stays empty when it’s not summer, so he lets me stop by whenever I want.”

“Jim…” You tried to recall the name and the face but there were no bells ringing up in the tower of your mind. Cooper chuckled and finally found the key he’d been searching for, inserting it into the keyhole, and opening the door.

“You know most of the people I work with, but not all of ‘em,” he said. Your unamused expression dissolved rather quickly into a smile as he stepped inside of the home to flick on some lights. You followed behind him, the smell of cleaner settling into your nostrils—Glenda’s doing if you had to guess—and the shine of picture frames, tables, and well-kept knick-knacks, pulling your eye every which way.

It wasn’t until you reached one of the back rooms that you noticed the modest windows at the front were not the same as the back of the home where almost every wall had one. This room in particular had a beautiful stone fireplace with plenty of seating surrounding it and the view from the window was limited to the well-lit backyard, nothing but darkness beyond the hill.

You heard the door close behind you and turned in time to see Cooper approaching. He set a duffel bag on the floor by the fireplace, one you didn’t realize he’d even packed and stood with his hands in the pockets of his grey dress pants. He ran a hand over the front of his sweater, almost like he was nervous.

“Not sure what’s here by way of food, should’a probably thought of that before leaving, but Glenda usually likes to keep the basics anyhow,” he said. “And I do make a mean PB n’ J. Rave reviews.”

You chuckled.

“Janey’s reviews are critical,” you said. “I wouldn’t mind trying that.”

“Consider it done,” he said and turned to head toward where you assumed the kitchen was. He added, “Make yourself comfortable.”

You heard the sound of Cooper exploring cabinets in the kitchen and did some light exploration of the rooms around you. It was a nice home, but not egregious, you could understand why this would be a nice getaway space. All the fixings for comfort but nothing that reminded you of being back in the city. No glitz or glam that took you out of where you were, just happy family portraits, mementos, and a warmth only good memories could fill a room with.

It wasn’t long before you found your way outside again, the backyard as well kept as the rest of the home. There were chairs to sit on and a small fire pit for those lucky nights that actually carried a chill, where you could roast marshmallows and share intimate secrets and laughs with friends. It’d been a while since you’d experienced that, college a few years back if you had to guess, and while they were fun, you didn’t yearn for your college days like so many others. You liked your life right now, even if it felt a little complicated at times.

“Order up,” Cooper’s voice said from behind you. You turned to see him set a plate down on one of the tables accompanied by a glass of water. “If you hate it, don’t say anything.” A chuckle left you as you approached the table, fingers wrapping around the sandwich and eyes locked on Cooper’s face. He was waiting. So you took your time overly examining it, twisting and turning it, and adding little ‘hmm’s for effect. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Just as he was about to say something you finally took a bite… It was good, of course it was. The perfect ratio of ingredients.

“Not bad,” you teased.

“Not bad?”

“I’m a harsher critic than Janey.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he joked.

You huffed a laugh again as he turned back inside, returning a moment later with his own sandwich. You turned to look out at what you’d gathered was a lake, a dock at the bottom of the incline this home was on, a singular lamp post at the end of it. On either side of you there were darkened homes and unlit docks, probably also abandoned outside of the summer, and the rest was the dark lake. It made you feel a bit more at ease, the chance of paparazzi or nosey neighbors dropping drastically, so you let yourself breathe a bit more and wiggled the tension that had built up again in your shoulders. The two of you ate your sandwiches in silence for a few moments, enjoying the light breeze coming off the water and the stillness of it all.

“A shame he took the boat,” Cooper said as he took a large bite.

“I don’t think I’d want to be out there at night anyhow,” you said.

“No?”

You shook your head.

“I’ve never been in or on a lake, they make me uneasy,” you admitted. “I’d take the beach instead any day.”

“How local of you,” he teased, finishing up his last bite.

“Hey,” you said. You tossed the last bit in your mouth and turned to him to point your index finger at him. “I don’t appreciate all the jabs you’re taking at me tonight, sir.” Cooper turned to you and matched your energy. Instead of addressing your comment though, his eyes dropped to your lips and he leaned down a little bit. The unfamiliarity of the motion made you reflexively lean away a bit but he remained.

“You got something—” He reached up his hand before you could try to rectify whatever situation he was indicating and you felt his thumb press against your lip. You stopped, eyes on his face, but he was focused on your mouth. Your heartbeat increased at the simple motion, soft but just enough pressure for you to feel, and when he swiped it along your lip, it felt like minutes had passed. Cooper held up his thumb for you to see the culprit. “Jelly,” he said.

You touched your face self-consciously and half expected him to wipe it on his sweater, so the surprise in your expression was genuine when you watched him put that same thumb up to his mouth. His tongue dragged along it, slow, like a show, watching you. A smirk settled onto his lips when he finished.

“Can’t waste Glenda’s supply,” he said. You had nothing. Cooper looked like he was resisting the urge to laugh as he started down the incline toward the path. He offered his hand to you. “C’mon, I wanna show you somethin’.”

It took you a second to snap back to this moment, mind wandering to incredibly inappropriate places where his tongue was running along—

“Sure. Sure,” you said, placing your hand in his.

Cooper carefully led you to the stairs that brought you to the bottom of the incline as opposed to the slick grass you’d almost slipped on. The dock itself was sturdy, but you were still cautious with every step you made, especially after Cooper turned the light at the end of the dock off. He didn’t let go of your hand the entire time, grip reassuring and helpful, and when you reached the end, he released you—to your disappointment—and pointed up.

“This is it,” he whispered.

You turned your eyes up to the sky and felt the breath leave you for a moment. It was a clear night, the moon beautiful and waning within the blanket of sapphire and surrounded by twinkling stars. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen the sky as clear as this, been able to take in the majesty of it all without the flood of Hollywood lights. It calmed you, made you feel as though you were weightless, so much so that you could feel a well of emotions building within you.

Silence overtook you both again for a while…

Cooper sighed.

“It was Barb,” he managed. Your brow furrowed in confusion. He pulled a cigarette carton and lighter from his pocket, slid a singular one out, and put the pack away again. “She…” He sighed again, finding it difficult to formulate the thought he wanted to say. “She’s got me on this leash with Vault-Tec. She knows it’s all I got going for me right now. If I lose this… There’s a chance she’ll try to take Janey from me completely.” Cooper lit the cigarette and took a long drag before pocketing the lighter too. You turned to him slightly.

“I’m so sorry, Coop,” you said with deep sincerity.

Cooper huffed a laugh, one that held no amusement or warmth, just irritation. He didn’t look at you.

“On top’a that, she keeps throwing you back in my face,” he said. “Like I’m not allowed to move on or be happy in any way with anyone. But ‘specially not you.” His voice had dipped into a whisper but you heard every single word.

Your confusion deepened. What was he saying? You knew Barb was strange when it came to you, had been since the divorce was finalized, but you never thought she would weaponize you against him. Not like this at least. You, of all people… It made you feel awful.

“I shoulda known she’d stoop this low eventually. I knew she was capable of it. If it wasn’t you, it’d be someone else, you’re just the closest to me and…” Cooper spared a look at you then, but it was brief like he couldn’t take more than a few seconds, such a contrast to earlier.

“But we’re not…” you tried, but couldn’t even find the words to finish. “You don’t want me like that.” It was all just Cooper Howard being a charming movie star… right?

“Well that’s just it, ain’t it, sweetheart?” he asked, blowing smoke into the night air. You watched Cooper intently. He sighed, ash tumbling from the cigarette twitching in his fingers. “I dunno what you’ve done, or how, but I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you. Not for one damn second.” He finally looked you in the eye then. The moonlight did no justice for that beautiful green-brown you knew all too well. Your heart hammered against the cage of your chest as you resisted the urge to fold under the weight of his gaze.

“Coop,” you whispered. There was no string of thought you could find for this moment. You couldn’t say there weren’t signs—ones you may have chosen to blatantly ignore. Truthfully, there was a part of you that wondered if you were just a placeholder until some starlet strolled up to him one day and took him off the market again. A familiar distraction. That platonic piece of his life that would never be anything more than a casual flirt… But you knew each other. He’d never shown interest before these last couple of weeks. When he was with Barb, he had eyes for no one else, especially not you.

And yet.

Here he was now showing you the heart on his sleeve, beneath the stars, in a place where he felt safe enough to do so. For you and only you.

The way he said your name was unlike anything you’d heard from him before. So soft it could have been a breath. It made your heart flutter. He stamped out the last of his cigarette and turned to fully face you. You looked up at him. Cooper took a step forward. There was barely an inch between you.

A cool breeze passed over the bare part of your legs, sending a shiver through you. Cooper reached up then and gently placed his warm palm against your cheek. Even in the moonlight, you could tell he was searching your face for any sign of rejection, ready to pull away at a moment’s notice.

He inched closer to you with every second that passed. One of your hands found his chest, halting him for a moment, but the other glided up his arm until your fingers wrapped around the hand he’d placed on your cheek. There was a brief moment you considered pulling away, to not solidify this potential problem in Cooper’s life, to add fuel to the fire that Barb was already igniting.

“I thought you just wanted a friend,” you said quietly. The tension in the air was palpable. You could practically swim in it.

Cooper took a long moment, a deep inhale through his nostrils.

“Who the fuck was I kiddin’.”

His lips collided with yours, a cocktail of desire and residual nicotine—a concoction so intoxicating that you melted into him instantly. Your hatred of cigarettes was overpowered by the way Cooper’s lips moved against yours. Everything you’d known before this moment felt like a world away, magnetism finally colliding with one another after narrowly avoiding each other’s pull for weeks now.

Cooper’s hands shifted, gliding over your ribs until they settled on the back of your shirt, and stopped.

“This alright?” he asked and pulled away enough to look down into your eyes. “Can I touch you like this?” He was respectful, but you could tell he wanted more. The way he flexed his fingers and tugged on the fabric and hovered just above the waistline of your skirt drove you mad. Feelings you hadn’t acknowledged were cascading and reverberating throughout your body—electric.

No longer surprised, you found yourself saying, “You can touch me however you like.” Cooper hummed at that and pulled you as close to him as he possibly could.

“Those’re some dangerous words…” he breathed, a small kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“I work with a cowboy for a living, I think I’ll be fine,” you replied, both smirking against each other's lips. Cooper’s hands dipped down to your ass, cupping it tightly through your skirt, a gasp-moan escaping you only for him to swallow it. He returned it, a sound deep in his vocal cords, and it spurred him on. You stumbled a little and immediately grabbed his upper arms to steady yourself, a burst of giggles tumbling from your lips.

“Y’alright?” Cooper asked amusement in his voice.

“Never made out on a dock before,” you admitted.

“Mmm,” he breathed, nose against your cheek. He pressed a kiss there as he ran his hands up your arms and intertwined your fingers. “Sit for me.” Your eyebrows furrowed, unsure about the request and feeling a tad defiant at it outside of your previous professional dynamic. Even then he didn’t ‘order’ you around. He knew better, just like now, tacking on a, “Please.”

So you slowly lowered yourself—with Cooper’s aid—onto the well-preserved wood, the slight sway of it less noticeable the moment you sat down fully. Cooper brought himself down next to you, hand instantly on the back of your neck and fingers tangled in the bottom of your hair. He pulled you to him with ease and you grabbed his sweater to ground yourself. It felt like you’d float away if you didn’t.

 You weren’t sure where this was going if this was meant to lead to anything, but you could still feel those nerves bundled in the pit of your stomach. Were you actually comfortable or was this just the rush of being in Cooper’s orbit? That magnetism that could shift an entire room’s attention to him effortlessly?

Cooper pulled at your hip lightly and, after you managed to hike up your skirt, you swung your leg over his lap to straddle him. This time it was his breath that hitched, lips detached and breath heavy. You braced yourself on his shoulders and he immediately found your hips, fingers digging into the skirt like he’d rip it off you if he could.

“Oh, Cooper,” you whispered shakily. Nothing made sense, the world was spinning, and it felt like a tether was pulled taut between your chests.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked. It was a tad raspy, a calculated question that took concentration—like his mind was focused on trying not to ravage you completely.

You glided your hand over his hair, moonlight catching on his greys and twinkling like the stars above.

“I…” you hesitated. “I’m not… Should we do this? I don’t… I don’t want to complicate things more for you.”

“You’re the least complicated thing in my life right now,” he said so definitively that it shut you up entirely. “We can slow down if you want…” Cooper took your hands in his and pressed his lips to them. “Honest, I just wanted to kiss you. Didn’t have much of a plan after that,” he said with a laugh. You could feel him under you, dress pants doing nothing to hide it, but you took a steadying breath.

“Is this—” You took a breath. “Is this just a distraction for you, Coop?”

Cooper said your name, tone laced with a tinge of sadness, and instead of pulling you closer, he grabbed your thigh to help you slide off his lap. You were a bit confused but you obliged. Did you ruin it? Whatever this was? The thought bounced around the walls of your mind as you searched his expression for any sort of negative emotion… There was none. It was soft and understanding with something lying underneath it all.

“I’m not interested in distractions,” he said. “I thought Barb was it for me… I thought I was done after the divorce. But you—” Cooper sucked air through his teeth. “I don’t know how to explain it. You ain’t some sort’a toy.”

“But I’m your assistant… It’s so… Grey.”

“You want me to fire you?” he asked lightheartedly. 

“Cooper,” you sighed. You pushed his shoulder with the hand you weren’t leaning on for balance and he reached up in time to grab your hand before you pulled away, practically enveloping it in his.

“Point I’m tryin’ to make is, if you want me to, we can stop right now. Cold turkey. No skin off my nose,” he said. As well as you knew him, you were pretty sure that wasn’t true. If he felt like you felt to any degree, it would devastate him. “But…” The grip he had on your hand tightened as he scooted closer to you, inches from your face again. “If you want to… figure this out like I do… I’ll do anything to prove I mean what I’m sayin’. Every single day you want me to, until finally you get sick of me.”

You chuckled and ran your thumb across his skin, considering his words. A one-night stand would have been hurtful in the long run but at least it was cut and dry. Feelings didn’t usually come into play or at the very least didn’t matter. This was something you were unprepared for. The way things evolved so naturally, so quickly, was terrifying. One moment your boss is just your boss, nothing more, and the next you felt yourself falling into the deep end.

“I think…” You took in a steadying breath, closing your eyes like it’d help. What might this be? Would it be something you’d regret? You weren’t sure but… “I think I might like that.”

When you opened your eyes again, Cooper’s relieved expression was the first thing you saw and you couldn’t help but smile. He kissed you again, but this time it was slow like nothing in the world mattered but your lips against his. A steady rhythm, like the light waves of the lake against the shore, and a passion you’d never known. You weren’t sure what any of it meant, but at least for now, this was a secret between you, Cooper, and the stars.

The night spent at the lake house was soft, sweet, hands kept in respectful places even when sharing a bed. It was a side you knew Cooper had, but one that was strange for you to experience. You spent the time before bed shyly shuffling around each other, Cooper offering you an extra sweater and some too-big sleep pants that didn’t match. You hadn’t realized you’d be staying overnight somewhere, but by the time you both returned to the house, lost in the quiet and comfort of each other’s embrace, it was well past midnight.

So you both laid there, quiet for the most part, facing one another, and just listening to the sound of your breaths as sleep tugged at your eyelids. Your hand had settled on Cooper's cheek and his hand found purchase on your hip.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asked you, eyes closed and voice riddled with sleep.

“You,” you managed. Sleep also tugged at you. “This.” You gently rubbed your fingertips on his cheek and he hummed a ‘mmmm’ in response.

“We can take it as slow as ya like,” he said, accent thicker. It made you smile a little, that rugged cowboy slipping through the Hollywood facade, charming and down to Earth. “I ain’t forcin’ you to do anythin’ you don’t want.”

You leaned forward and pressed a soft, sleepy kiss to his lips.

And slow it went.

The next morning was spent driving back, Cooper’s hand on your leg the entire cruise down the highway. It was nice, simple, and you placed yours over it, liking how it felt—such a simple gesture. It only lasted until you returned to the city, both of you instinctively pulling apart. No one needed to know. Not yet. This was yours to cultivate as you both pleased.

Any business you conducted, like being on set, was professional, as always. Barely a glance out of place and strictly kept what needed to be accomplished—business as usual.

When Janey was around, nothing, the same as before. It made you feel a bit strange, wary of potentially hurting her and making her home life even more complicated. You struggled with that for a bit and you’d probably struggle with it for a long time regardless of the outcome of whatever this was.

You avoided Barb as much as possible. Cooper did everything he could to drop Janey off himself or have Barb, or her assistant, or babysitter, come collect her for her shared time with her Mom. If you had to, you did so and kept any interactions brief to none at all.

But when you finally had time alone, away from all the eyes, just you and Cooper, it was extraordinary. Stolen pecks in the trailer before a scene, soft touches cooking dinner together, long, drawn-out kisses after lifting you onto his work desk, conversation by the pool with fingers intertwined and splashes of water. No matter your previous experience romantically, this was on a completely different level. Despite that nagging part of your mind that wouldn’t quiet about ‘starlets’ and ‘secrecy’ and ‘getting tired of you’, you persisted. 

Cooper was nothing if not reassuring. His sass and snark didn’t let up, but he tried his best to never be mean, even before all this, and doubly so now. An occasional present or two like flowers or something small because he knew how you loathed large gestures. Not once did he pressure you to have sex with him, though the hints were there. A slide of his fingertips just under the hem of your skirt nibbles at the top of your breasts after popping the top few buttons of your blouse, or the way he pressed up against you from behind, an innocent hug now charged as he nibbled your ear and the natural way you arched into him. But never pressure. That decision was on you, and you weren’t sure when you’d be ready for that to change.

You wanted Cooper. There was no doubt about that. It was more so Barb that kept you at bay. No matter how you two spun this story, it would never be good enough for anyone, but especially not her.

It was always going to be the ‘classic’ tale of infidelity with the woman that he spent the most time with, no matter how recent of a development those feelings were. The added pressure of her potentially wanting to take Janey away also weighed on you, and despite how clearly stressed he was because of Barb—especially with his final commercial for Vault-Tec due for filming the following week—you still relished in the quiet, gentle moments on the couch in your embrace, fireplace crackling and dogs snoring at your feet.

You wanted Cooper Howard, but you had a sinking feeling it wouldn’t come without a cost, and you weren’t sure how steep it would truly be.

“CUT! RESET!” called the director from his comfortable chair. A bell rang twice and you watched from the refreshments table as everyone on the crew sprung forward to reset the stage & fix up the actors.

You still couldn’t shake the feeling of being in one of these vaults, a big number four on the door behind Cooper where his first scene was set. It felt… unreal. A big metal fortress underground meant for a nuclear fallout felt so outlandish that if you hadn’t been here yourself, you’d have thought it was just a set built up on a soundstage. An uneasiness tugged at you when they gave you a tour of the living spaces, watching the camera crew set up in one of the rooms and a family—whose two adults were scientists—sat in makeup chairs until it was time for their scene.

Cooper was your only grounding force. During the tour he’d gently touch your back for a brief moment, pretending to just pass by you or urge you in front of him. He only lingered a little longer once when he heard you take in a shaky breath while Bud Askins and company rambled about how amazing this place was. It didn’t help that Barb was here as well to oversee the shoot. She barely acknowledged you and focused entirely on Cooper like you were a set dressing. You tried not to think about her too much though or else your shaky breaths might turn into a full on breakdown.

It was just a shoot in a location you weren’t familiar with. Everything was safe. Everything would be fine.

So when the director called for a reset, you quickly approached Cooper with a cup of black coffee for him to grab as people fussed with his hair and suit. A grateful expression crossed his face as he took a sip.

“Thank you so much,” he said, Hollywood charm still turned up to the max. While you were used to how he was on set, you couldn’t help realizing now just how much of a mask he wore for his work. Not that he wasn’t always authentically himself, but he did carry himself in a way that you didn’t see when you were alone.

“Need anything else before the next take?” you asked.

“Not anythin’ I can have right now,” he responded with a tinge of flirtation in his tone. You tensed a little, the women who were fussing over him didn’t even bat an eyelash at the comment. It was just you. He knew you were a little anxious before and was likely just trying to lighten the mood, but with him looking so dashing in his gray suit and his ex-wife was standing just at the edge of the room, eyes flicking over while she conversed with her colleagues, it was difficult to relax.

Cooper finished his coffee—the women dabbing his face and reapplying touch-ups—and you took it from him. Your fingers grazed his as you did so, a small gesture to let him know you were still there with him despite the circumstances.

“I’ll make sure to set up a reservation for you at your favorite restaurant,” you managed with a smile that he returned instantly.

“You know me so well.”

“It’s my job to,” you responded, gazing up through your eyelashes before you turned around fully to leave the shot. For the briefest of moments when you turned, you thought you caught his gaze moving downwards to your ass, but he’d returned to a recording-ready stance the moment you began to walk away.

“Alright, next take!” the director called. Everyone scattered out of the way of the cameras. “Quiet on set!”

You moved just out of frame, Cooper’s empty coffee cup in your hand, and watched him work his magic. The lights went out and once the cameras were rolling again, a singular spotlight lit on Cooper who had a fresh cigarette in his hands.

“Oh. Hello there. Yup, it’s me, Cooper Howard, star of stage and screen.”

Recording continued and, while the vault still unnerved you, you did your best to focus on Cooper. You watched between each take and tended to anything Cooper might have needed while keeping your space. The takes flew by despite how many there were and by the time you reached ‘Sycamore Street’, specifically room number 429, which was printed on a pristine mailbox, you could tell Cooper was starting to feel a bit drained by it all. So when they called for a cut, family of scientists at the table next to Cooper, you approached him with some water and a smile.

“Almost outta here, tiger,” you said to him as he took the cup of water and chugged it. He breathed out a sigh and handed it back to you.

“Kinda wish it was whiskey.”

“I’m sure they’ve got some around here somewhere if you really want,” you said.

“You’re the best,” he returned, a charming smirk on his lips. You couldn’t help but feel yours brighten at the sight and as you were about to turn and walk away from him, a voice chimed in that made your blood run cold.

“Are you done being distracted by your plaything? I’d like to get everyone out of here on time,” said Barb from the doorway, arms crossed. Silence bellowed into the room the likes you’d never experienced. Not even a breath. You felt as though someone had punched you in the chest as a deep-seated mortification rippled through your entire being.

“What was that?” Cooper asked. While his voice was a whisper, you could hear the lethality dripping from every syllable. Even his calm, cool, and collected movie star mask slipped a bit, brow furrowed and jaw locked.

“Cooper,” you warned, also in a whisper. “It’s fine, I’ll just—”

“No.” The firmness of his voice took you aback, but it wasn’t directed at you, he was locked on Barb. “Say it again.”

This man was going to burn down everything in this very moment with a camera crew and innocent bystanders to witness it. Barb adjusted her stance to match his challenging energy. One look around the room and you felt like you wanted to simply disintegrate.

“I said—” Barb tried.

“Enough!” you declared firmly. Once again you were in the middle of them and their drama, their loathing, everything. It didn’t matter though. You stepped in front of Cooper fully, not even looking at him but at Barb with a forced smile on your lips and said, “I’ll go. No problem. I think my work is done for the day anyhow.” 

Cooper said your name but you held up a hand. This was awful enough as it was, you didn’t want to give Barb any more fuel and destroy what he had going for himself today. You took a step forward and felt the graze of Cooper’s hand as he reached out for your wrist, which you promptly pulled away. Your hands were shaking at all the eyes on you but they parted as you approached the door Barb was posted by. She watched you approach and, for a moment, you considered just walking by without a word… but you heard her huff an amused sound, you decided not this time. You stopped right next to her in the doorframe, stood as tall as you could, and stared straight into her eyes.

“Barb, I want you to know that I have always had a lot of respect for you,” you started softly. “I don’t know what happened between you and Cooper, and quite frankly, at this point, I don’t care.” Barb smirked a little, like she was about to say something. “It’s your business. What I do care about is you dragging me into it and trying to make my life hell when all I wanted to do was help.” You took a step forward. “I’m not the source of your problems, Barbara. You are. So keep my goddamn name out of your mouth.”

Your heart pounded in your ears. Barb’s face was professionally cold but you knew there was anger simmering beneath her exterior. You’d embarrassed her, just as she embarrassed you, in front of all of her colleagues whose opinions she seemed to hold above everyone else’s if she thought this stunt would be cute. Jaw clenched, you turned away from her and made your way through the crowd of her coworkers. You didn’t know if Cooper was going to be upset at you, if you’d just blown up his life, or if you even had a job, all you knew was that you needed to get away from whatever the hell was back there.

So you explored further into the vault with no goal aside from getting away.

COOPER

To say Cooper was upset would be an understatement. Even with years of practice, he found it more difficult than anything to put himself back into the scene when everyone finally unfroze from their goddamn shock. He’d stared down Barb, who didn’t do the same, and instead exited the room once you’d left. If you hadn’t stopped him, he would have probably destroyed any sort of tenuous work agreement that was left between him and Barb… but he had a contract to finish.

So he did.

He shoved down all of his radiating anger and put on that showbiz smile everyone knew him for. The crew eased almost immediately once he’d done so and said, “Shall we?”

The rest of the shoot went by without a hitch and once his scenes were wrapped, he gave out handshakes and compliments until he’d finally made it out of the room. In the hallways were all of the men who’d been watching, eyes cautiously avoiding him after the fiasco with Barb, who was chatting with someone at the other end of the hall. Cooper made a b-line for her but stopped just short by—

“Mr. Howard, great work today,” the man said and reached out his hand.

“Oh, thanks. Thanks, man,” Cooper responded.

“Bud Askins. I oversee our Southern California operations—”

“Hey, sorry, could you just hold on for one second?” Cooper asked. The man blinked but nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he answered, a bit taken aback.

Cooper’s attention immediately moved back to Barb, who hadn’t bothered looking at him despite likely hearing his approach, and he stepped between her and the person she’d been conversing with.

“‘Scuse us,” Cooper said to the man. It was firm enough that he simply nodded and moved away from the both of them, but Bud Askins still hovered nearby. Barb’s shoulders straightened once he’d left and she barely managed to look up at him. There was disdain there, something that would have hurt him to see not too long ago, but now? Now, he was pissed.

“I thought I’d been disgusted by you enough to last me a lifetime, but you just keep pilin’ on don’t you?” Cooper said. He did nothing to regulate his voice and knew that her nosey little pack of rats here in the halls would be listening.

“Coop—”

“No. Enough of this bullshit,” he said, rage hovering beneath his words. Barb’s jaw tightened, stance combative.

“You brought her to set,” she said with an empty chuckle.

“She’s my fucking assistant,” he bit back. Barb looked at him incredulously as he took another step forward. “And if she were anything else, it still wouldn’t be your business. You’re not my wife. You made that choice for us both when you chose Vault-Tec and this future—” Cooper gestured at the vault around them. “Over your family.” The room quieted again. Despite the tears welling up in the corner of Barb’s eyes, he didn’t feel sympathy. No remorse. He was too angry for any of that. “This commercial is the last of our business together, Barbara. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got someone I need to find.”

Cooper moved past Barb and further into the vault. The weight of everyone’s gazes fell on his back. He shook out his arms like it’d help release all the pain, anger, and exhaustion from his body, help him navigate this mess, but truly he just wanted to find you… Wherever you’d gone.

YOU

It was surprising just how quiet everything was in this room, unnerving if you were being totally honest. The teals and whites and pastel yellows and colorful abstract paintings gave it all a home-y feel but it couldn’t have been anything further from it. You were hyper-aware of the underlying lead, the bones of this vault, and it all just felt so… cold. Just like Vault-Tec.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been in this room, examining every little thing until your nerves finally calmed from your very public confrontation with Barb. You didn’t even know if you could face Cooper. He had to have been upset with you and your behavior, it wasn’t the time or place to confront Barb like that, and you were sure you’d sealed your fate with everyone, including him, when you opened your mouth to her.

So you sat at the shiny white dining room table, upon the brand new yellow chairs, and sobbed into your hands. Your tears dropped onto the surface, the faintest of sounds in this secluded space, and it spurred you on. Everything in your life was about to be turned upside down. Not only were you probably going to lose one of the best men you’d ever known, but your name was likely going to be the talk of the town if Barb had anything to say about it. 

The part of you that wanted to be understanding and sympathetic, wanted to excuse her actions as someone acting out of grief for her lost marriage, kept gnawing at you and imparting guilt onto your conscience. Even if you knew she was wrong for that, you still couldn’t find it in yourself to hate her. You just felt… bad for her. Even though you’d meant every word you’d said and still felt that residual flickering anger in your chest.

Now Cooper was going to lose everything because of you…

The sound of the door opening sent a jolt through you as you immediately got to your feet, fingers wiping away the tear streaks along your cheeks.

“Color me surprised when the janitor told me you were still hangin’ around down here,” Cooper’s voice rang from the doorway. You couldn’t tell if you were relieved or even more tense than before, jaw clenched.

“Cooper,” you breathed, a sad sound. You cleared your throat and adjusted your dress with shaky hands. Cooper had taken a few steps forward, as though he were testing the waters, if you wanted him to be close or not. “Sorry, I just… started walking and didn’t know where to go so I just… stopped in here to collect myself.”

“I see,” he said and inched closer, hands in his pockets. “What you think?” Cooper’s gaze shifted upwards to indicate he meant the vault. You knew he was trying to ease into a conversation with you about what happened, which gave you a bit of hope since he didn’t come in here screaming and shouting about how unprofessional that was or how everything was screwed up now. It was a relief, no matter how small.

“Cold,” you admitted. “Living behind lead walls when you’ve seen the sky is a tragedy.” Your arms folded over your chest, protective, nervous.

“That’s one way of puttin’ it,” he whispered back.

“Did I screw everything up, Cooper?” you asked suddenly, voice cracking a bit with the emotions that bubbled with every word.

“Oh, hey,” Cooper closed the distance, hands cupping your face so you’d look him in the eye. “No. My business with Barb is done, whether she likes it or not. I don’t give a damn about what she said.”

“But what about, Janey? And your contracts—”

“I’ll manage,” he insisted. “Like I always do.”

“I don’t want to be a distraction for you,” you said and tried to pull your head away, but to no avail. Cooper’s gaze intensified slightly as he pulled you back to look at him. You swallowed hard at the motion.

“I told you already, this ain’t a game for me,” he said firmly. “I don’t want to lose you because of stupid shit my ex-wife said. I can’t… You’re one of the most important people in my life.” You didn’t know what you had expected from Cooper, but it certainly wasn’t this. There was no waver in his speech, no indication that these were falsities, nothing, simply pure truths. “Until you’re sick of me,” he repeated, the phrase plucked from your memory of the lake house.

“Coop—”

There was no arguing, not with the way he kissed you. Intentional, powerful, deep, it was all present in the way he moved against you, the way one of his hands shifted to the nape of your neck and the other pressed against your lower back so that you were flushed with his own body. Your breaths floated into the quiet of the room, lost in the way you both touched and held each other, the temperature rising by the minute.

“Wait, what about—” You tried to gesture to the door that was still wide open, and, without even looking, Cooper backed you both up until his back hit the override button. The door dropped down instantly and he continued devouring your lips. Everything was spinning. “Cooper,” you gasped. His lips traveled down from your lips to your jaw, then to your neck where he bit down greedily. It earned him a moan that you couldn’t help, a blush immediately pooling on your cheeks.

“Keep making sounds like that and I might lose what little control I got left, sweetheart,” he said, all tongue and teeth against your collarbone.

“Should we? Here?” you asked breathlessly. Cooper picked his head up to look at you then, eyes glazed over and a pink tinge over his own cheeks.

“I don’t think you understand,” he said and hovered his mouth over yours. “I’d do just ‘bout anything you asked. Even here. Especially here.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Barb had sufficiently pissed you both off enough that you were willing to desecrate a future residence for a family you didn’t know. Any other day you’d have been the responsible one, insisted that it was inappropriate, but today, a more defiant side seemed to be in control, one Barb had conjured earlier. Even with all the guilt and sympathy you felt, your feelings for Cooper superseded them all and that flickering anger within you had settled into a spitefulness you would have never typically acted on. Until now.

Fuck being his assistant.

Fuck being just his friend.

In this moment, you wanted to be his. Entirely his.

Whatever that meant.

“What’re we waiting for then?” you asked as you gazed up through your eyelashes at him. His breath stuttered, eyes searching yours for any sign of second thoughts, but quickly cut short by the way your fingers found his belt and began undoing it.

“Don’t gotta ask me twice.”

Cooper walked you both back to the bed on the opposite side of the room, just as pristine as the rest of the unit, until you fell back onto it. You watched him as he slid off his jacket, setting it on one of the dining chairs, and undoing his cufflinks. While he rolled up his sleeves, you wiggled off your underwear, giving them a small tug when they got stuck on your heels—which were a little too difficult to take off at the moment. Cooper let out an exhale at the sight, just watching you work. So you slowed down a bit, grabbed the hem of your dress, and dragged it down your thighs.

“Goddamn,” he said with a whistle. Your heartbeat was wild, your breath uneven, and everything about you craved him. He looked so goddamn delicious in his white button-up, loose tie, and grey dress pants that were doing nothing to hide his erection. Cooper approached again but stopped just at the edge of the bed to look at you, the mess you were becoming.

“What?” you asked. Self-consciousness had started to creep in, despite knowing you didn’t need to be. Cooper gestured to you like he couldn’t believe you were there, dress hiked up and eyes expectant.

“Just… Damn,” he said. “What a sight.”

Your cheeks heated up again.

“Well, don’t leave a girl waiting,” you said. He laughed at that.

Cooper dipped down, kissing your propped-up knees, down your thighs, and nudging himself between them. Your head lolled back, heat radiating through your body. The shakiness of your hands had lessened but not gone as you reached up to undo his pants. Cooper shifted back to your neck then, grunting when you finally freed him, tugging his boxers down over his bulge.

“Shit,” he muttered, looking up at you in your eyes again. “Still sure?”

You answered by capturing his lips with yours and guiding him down to your entrance. Without hesitation, he pushed himself in and your gasp turned into a moan as he moved into you, inch by inch. While he wasn’t some egregious size, it’d been a while for you so it took a moment to acclimate, gripping his shoulders tightly until you felt his pelvis against the back of your thighs. You both stayed there for a second, drinking in each other’s presence and the sensation of him inside of you.

Cooper took a deep inhale before he pulled back a couple of inches and slammed back into you. The breath you’d taken was cut off, a beautiful sensation of pleasure trickling through your lower body and dancing upwards, setting your nerves alight. You nodded at him to continue and so he did. Sweat beaded by his brow while pleasure contorted his face.

He thrust back into you a bit harder this time. A moan tumbled from your kiss-swollen lips as you two got lost in one another, grasping at every piece of each other you could get.

Any time before this felt like ages ago, like this was where you were both meant to be and any doubts or reasons against it were out of the window that was still open for anyone to see you. As much as you still cared about being discovered like this, you were too far gone, lost in Cooper’s embrace. Vault-Tec was despicable, Barb was acting horribly… Neither of you deserved that shit.

With a bit of effort, you guided Cooper onto his back, belt jingling against the floor and bed creaking at the movement. He was just as gone as you were with your disheveled hair tumbling over your shoulders and dressed jumbled up to your hips where Cooper’s thumbs pressed into. You settled yourself over him, eyes locking, and he placed his hand on your cheek, caressing it.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he managed.

You smiled as you slid yourself back down onto him. This time, it was him who moaned, a drawn-out, deep-in-his-throat type of sound that you’d never heard from him before. The grip he had on you tightened like he was holding onto the reins of a horse, attempting to be in some sort of control, but when you moved your hips, it was more like he was desperately trying to hold on.

Curses and gasps and moans filled the room, a language all your own. It felt so good that it made you delirious. One of Cooper’s hands slid up to grab your breast, kneading it through the material of your dress and bra, desperate for a new handhold. For a small moment, you could understand the appeal of this pieced-together life. This small slice of life perfectly catered for survival, the preservation of humanity through an act like this, all of it. You could understand the appeal for those who already coveted the white picket fence lifestyle. You didn’t know if this was something that could work for you, but for now, it served its purpose.

You continued to ride him and absorb the sounds that escaped him—all for you.

“Shit,” you whined just as the pressure building within you released, clenching around Cooper who groaned at the feeling.

“Y-You gotta… I’m…” he couldn’t form words but you knew. You removed yourself from him and laid beside him as he pumped one, two, three times, and released all over his hand. His chest was heaving just as much as yours. “Holy… shit…” Cooper used his free hand to rub his brow.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

There was a quiet few seconds between the two of you that was broken by Cooper’s chuckle.

“Just so you know, this ain’t how I thought this would happen,” he said.

“You and me both,” you said with a chuckle. You reached toward the bedside table to grab a tissue, an attempt to help, and he obliged, taking it from you to clean up the mess he’d made.

“I got an idea for next time.” Cooper got up and brought his pants back up, getting himself together again.

“Next time?” you asked in a playful tone, eyebrow raised.

“Sick of me already?” he asked. While he also matched your playfulness, there was something about it that sounded a tad insecure. Unusual for the Cooper Howard. You smiled at him and took the hand he offered to help you up.

“I don’t think I ever could be,” you said. He returned your smile, a sheepish boyish little thing, and placed a sweet kiss on your lips.

The moment you stepped downstairs of the Howard residence, the scent of cigarettes washed over you and the steady sound of idle chatter filled your ears. While the man whose arm you were on would garner attention naturally, it was the togetherness of your body language that drew it this time. Almost every attendee greeted the two of you, even those there to rub elbows for business, niceties and compliments abound. Even the Vault-Tec individuals that had been on set that day played nice. If Barb was there, she didn’t make it known and avoided the both of you for the entire night.

Despite being nervous about the decision to be public tonight, you found it rather easy to do. Cooper did most of the greeting and talking, refusing to stop touching you in some way unless it was for a good reason. It was sweet and you were thankful for the amount of, at least surface-level, respect that was offered to you by everyone. Of course, there was plenty of side-eye and blatantly ignoring you, but Cooper made it a point to introduce you to everyone who wanted to say hello to him unless you knew them.

At some point in the night, Sebastian approached the two of you—a kiss on the cheek for you and a firm pat on the back for Cooper. His eyebrows raised in surprise when he saw your arm looped with Cooper’s, hand resting on his bicep.

“So, finally promoted from assistant to lover—”

“Manager,” the both of you corrected. Sebastian chuckled at you both.

“She’s the only person I really listen to anyhow,” Cooper said, sipping his drink in his hand.

“Aside from Janey,” you corrected.

“Of course,” Cooper said and, to your surprise, placed a kiss on your cheek. You did your best to ignore the nosey side-eyes and smiled at Sebastian.

“Well, congratulations on your successful run with Vault-Tec, and endless happiness to you both,” Sebastian said. He and Cooper clinked their glasses before you all went back to mingling.

The wrap party continued without a hitch, which you were incredibly thankful for, and aside from the small bits of uncomfortableness, you both made it to the end of the night. Once the last guest was out of the door, the two of you retired to his bedroom.

A shared warm shower later—both in temperature and in the way Cooper pinned you against the wall with his own body to run kisses along your shoulders and upper back—you two tumbled into his bed. Your naked bodies slowly writhing against one another, Cooper enjoying you in any way he could, tongue against your clit, fingers deep inside of you, kisses along your stomach… You came undone so many times you almost forgot what century you were in.

Once you had your fill of one another for the night, you laid there like you did in the lake house, and shared soft touches and kisses. That was how you spent most of your nights now, in the comfort of each other’s embrace. Maybe the world would end one day, but as long as you had Cooper Howard, you felt you could withstand the fallout.

[istharoth]

WickChat Articles

Cause I'm nosy like that-

Prologue Chapter 33:

#2 - Probably referring to Taiga? #4- I need to knowwwwww who the demon is. (Also, the only one not posted by an anon 👀) [In this specific post at least.] SPEAKING OF! WHO THE HECK IS AN ENGINEER AT DARKWICK?!

Episode 1, Chapter 26:

#4 - Just a thought but what if it were Subaru who posted that?

Episode 2: Chapter 9

The last one, Nicolas one is so real!! WHAT DID YOU DO TO THOSE DIONYSIA KIDS, NICOLAS!! WHY COULDNT YOU POTENTIALLY USE THEM WHEN HARU WAS SICK!!

Interesting how the [PC] can see and interact with Zenji's posts before the Hotarubi chapter. [Unless they're posted by Haku, but that's too Zenji to be Haku.] [in a good way]

"Battle of the Titans Part 2." - Lowkey thinking about Haku-Jin vs. Tohma-Mido.

Episode 5: Chapter 15

#2- Also looking for a man I met in my dreams. /j THOUGH!! Technically speaking, did the PC meet anyone in a dream? Unless you count the events at Kisaragi Station to be a dream-? Though, that's pretty unlikely. PS: This is the third time the 'bet you don't know this anomaly' has appeared. Since it was first posted when the PC came to the academy, two months have passed since she began the Hotarubi mission.

Kaito briefly mentioned the dissidents would be happy in the prologue. Though that was for Vagastrom having two ghouls that would affect the power balance. I think Zenji and Suba were in Hotarubi from the start?

Episode 5: Chapter 13

#1- lolol, first the Biwa, then Haku supposedly recording others [but he was just recording Zenji] then the doll. #4- Even I wanna know what happened at Emrys for Luca to become a transfer student :< #3- In the og version of the game, there was a character named Mitake Takumi. [Found on animo lol] Though I don't think it's related =x= [Wonder if he was Sho's prototype/beta]

Edward behind a suspect in the murder of the One-Eyed Sleeping Beauty feels like a stretch ngl. [It's just kinda weird? He's an old man, the strongest vamp, sure but he's an old man who watches youtube streams all day.] [Bro was probably sleeping when the Clash occurred. UNLESS it occurred at night, then it's believable he killed someone.] In the prologue, Kaito starts telling us a rumour about the Captain of Obscuary but is stopped when Cornelius interrupts because of the prophecy. [iirc] But, the One-Eyed Sleeping Beauty caused the clash. The suspects are: 1) Jiro Kirisaki - [1st year at the time] 2) Alan Mido - [2nd year at the time] 3) Towa Otonashi - [Ist year at the time] 4) Rui Mizuki - [2nd year at the time] 5) Edward Hart - [399 years old at the time??]/[2nd year at the time] If the PC is the One-Eyed Sleeping Beauty from another timeline, it's very surprising that Taiga isn't on the list. Bro even wants to forget his memories of the day he arrived in Darkwick so nothing would ever happen. [Taiga's so weird man. I love him.]

[ghouldtime]

Let me pick your brain, if I may. A bit self indulgent but yknow. What if someone breaks in to neighbors home and she calls König.

My first instinct for some reason was to call my boyfriend rather than the police? I don't know why lol. It wasn't anything dramatic, just a guy shimmied my door open whole I was cooking dinner, looked at me said "wrong place" and left. Turns out he was looking for my literal next door neighbor. We live in an apartment building.

I feel like it could go one way, he'd grab a gun and calmly make his way over. Make sure everything is fine then ask why they didn't call the police. If it's like the situation I was in. But what if it was the real deal dangerous situation?

If he were to go in ready to fight then his neighbor might question how he can fight like that or shoot like that( doubt it would get to that point but I'm leaving it up to you). They'd only ever seen fighting like that in the movies. I like to picture him getting a little flustered (kind of like the name situation) and just saying like oh I learned it in fight club or something.

I don't know that he'd immediately call the cops for them, would he immediately go in to protection mode and let instinct take over? What would his instinct be? I definitely don't feel like he'd kick the door down and go guns blazing, i think he'd be too calm and collected for that. Being a colonel he's gotta be good about keeping his head straight and clear, otherwise he wouldn't be here, surely. It's not a terrorist organization he's gotta take down, just a neighborhood thug that got a little lost and confused, so to speak. He'll help them find their way.

Also, picturing your König just absolutely crushing a bad guy in his usual civilian clothing rather than his gear and hood just does something to me. Being like "i am on vacation dammit" (insert the frustrated Ben Afflect cigarette meme here)

Also, petition to change the phrase "that wasn't very cash money of you" and changing it to "that wasn't very KevinKönig of you." Or "Ghoul's König would NEVER-"

💚💚💚💚Hey, anon! Hope you're doing well :D Oh geez, that must've been a bit perplexing and scary in the moment. I'm glad nothing bad happened and that you're safe! But damn that would've given me a heart attack and a half if that happened to me. The closest I had was my brother would invite his friends over without saying anything to me, so some dudes just walk into my house, not even knocking or ringing the bell. And I'm like, well, either they're the worlds worst robbers or they know my brother. This happened MULTIPLE times, I'm not even phased if someone walks in anymore (Word of the somewhat wise, don't be like me. Probably immediately question why someone is there and don't just be like 'sup') It reallllly depends on the severity and what happened. Anything like that is something that does need to be taken seriously! Seeing in the neighbor Au that they live in the suburbs, it's something that's significantly less likely to happen or to be a mistake there. He's a touch paranoid about things like that, and would even take something minor like that as cause for concern.

He's a seasoned private military contractor, he knows very well that people can do things like that or feign innocence to scope out the layout of a house or even to test the door to see if it's locked for a future break in. He's paranoid of that sort of thing even if it doesn't seem like much.

The second ANYTHING of that sort is mentioned to him, he's going to be concerned, even if it's brought up casually. Because not only does that mean you and your house are unsafe, but there may be someone in the area potentially looking around for him. So naturally, he's already going on high alert for himself - and he's increasingly concerned for you too.

Since he knows that if any bad guys or terrorists or enemies alike had any inkling that he was friends with you and you meant something to him, he's going to ramp up security for you because he knows associating with him alone is enough to out you in danger. Seeing what they do, he knows their methods, he knows how they use hostages and people close to others as sickening pawns.

He's going to be installing a security system for you if you don't have one already, he's making sure you're armed and ready to defend, he's offering his own tips on how to stay safe and to prevent home invaders.

Ideally, he would do all of that BEFORE a break in or anything could occur, even though the area is safe. Prevention and protection is better than going into damage control. Truth be told, he'd be ramping up those security measures the moment he got close to you - especially if he knew he would be deployed soon. He sleeps better knowing you're safe.

I'm just assuming either that wouldn't have happened yet or something went wrong - he never keeps his phone on silent, especially during the night in case he's needed. So the second he's getting a call, even if he's half asleep, the ice-cold adrenaline is kicking in. That's all he needs to get up and head on over.

He's grabbing his handgun, he's going to be scoping the perimeter and trying to pinpoint any vehicles or anything out of the ordinary that can be a crucial detail as he makes his way over. If it's minor and a "false alarm", he'll breathe a sigh of relief, but it's still something to be taken seriously. He'd much rather have you call him and it's a nothing than have you afraid to call him in the event of a possible emergency. That stuff is VERY serious and he stresses personal safety like it's his job (technically, it's part of it).

Anyone can go in ready to fight, which is his explanation! Adrenaline is one hell of a hormone. When it takes over, people can do absolutely insane things. At that point, it's protective instinct and survival being on the line. Very unlikely it would end in a shoot out or movie level fight, but his ability to clear rooms effectively and scan the house are uncanny. He'll tell you he's trained in self defense (not a lie) and he would ideally rather you be too. They have classes for it and being able to protect and defend one's self is a valuable skill - it's those things that can save you.

He won't fluster because he IS confident in that part of him and having confidence in those things can help motivate dear reader to protect themselves and can help give them a piece of mind. Plus, he'll be happy to help! He knows it better than many and it's very much worth it to reassure you and to give you that extra level of safety at all times. The world is crazy and so are the people in it, its better to always be prepared! As much as he wants to be there for you all the time, its physically impossible, so helping you help yourself is another way he's trying to make sure you're safe.

He understands why you might not call the police immediately in any sort of break in situation. Police response times can vary vastly and if he's right there, he's trained with a firearm and knows what he's doing - he can be the faster and is your safer bet. Those few minutes can mean the difference between survival and the terrible alternative. Yeah, call him. He'd much rather have that than wait around when he KNOWS he can do something. Not to mention, he'll tell you when you get close you can always call him for things like that.

Hell, if he's around, you can also just call him if you want someone else in the home when there's repairmen dropping by. The world is scary, he's seen the worst of it. Being there and nothing happening is significantly better than assuming nothing will happen and the worst does. It gives him a piece of mind for your safety and his alike if you involve him in those sorts of things.

OKAY ANYWAYS BACK ON TOPIC, IF IT WAS a serious, active invasion. He's calling the cops as he readies himself and scopes things out. Alerting them and having backup or SOMEONE else, someone aware, is vital. Manpower is needed, especially if it's a group. Not to mention, it's for legal reasons too. Courts don't play around and it's something that needs to be documented.

At that point, everything is muscle memory and adrenaline blending together. It's just putting him putting his mind back onto the field. He's trained in urban warfare and while this isn't the same, it's still fighting in a house setting. He's checking out the perimeter, he's trying to figure out how many there are, he's trying to get it all together in his mind as he enters. His goal, at that point, is protecting YOU. No amount of valuables or items are worth your life. Getting YOU out of there or keeping you in a safe place until police are able to get there is what is most important.

He'd rather not engage unless absolutely necessary because of the fact that off the battlefield, shooting someone is VERY very different. He'd rather all parties live and he doesn't want to jeopardize himself unnecessarily and certainly doesn't want to do the same to you. He's not going to try and find them to fight, that's the police's job. He doesn't have a big head and isn't some wannabe try hard who has to prove a point. No, he's focused on living and safety. Ideally, he's getting you out of there ASAP and safely far away.

If they want to put up a fight though, if they so much as try to raise a gun of any type, they're going to be eating bullets. Shoot first, ask questions later, he's not going to negotiate when there's HIS life and YOUR life on the line. He's not taking that chance. Talking things over and having a reasonable conversation went out the window when they decided they valued your things more than their life. It shouldn't get to that but he WILL pull the trigger if needed, no hesitation. Hesitation is what gets you killed.

He'll be in his oversized forest green sweater with teddy bear patches sewn on, with the ugliest flamingo print pj shorts on, but make no mistake, he's as ready to put up a fight as ever and is making it known why he's a colonel. In or out of armor, he earned that title.

Afterwards, when things are actually wrapped up and those guys are apprehended, he'll have you staying over at his house for a while - or a hotel, if you still feel unsafe seeing as you are neighbors. You can stay in his house as long as you'd like, he's got a guest room for a reason. Such an experience can be extremely traumatic and he's there to help you through it as much as he can. You want the TV on when you go to bed? Sure. Want him to stay in the room? He doesn't have anywhere to be in the morning, why wouldn't he?

He's absolutely committed to making sure you're feeling alright. He's not the best with his words but he'll always be a shoulder to cry on and will offer his unwavering support. He'll check your house whenever you feel like going back to it and will personally see to making sure any security measures are tripled and you have the best of the best there. Testing it, quadruple checking, and SHOWING you everything to help quell any fears and worries is just another part of what he'll do to make sure you feel comfortable.

If you need him to attend any therapy sessions with you or just want him around as much as you can, he'll be there and will be as present as possible. He'll always be checking in on you, making sure you're feeling alright, and will be clear you're welcomed at his house anytime and can call or text him whenever. He's honored to be a trusted individual in your life and someone you feel safe with, so much so that you referred to him for help in such a terrible situation. So he'll do what he can to protect that trust and cherish it, trying to make the most out of an awful situation.

[he4rtiz]

[𝐣𝐞 𝐭'𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 ⋆ 𝐣𝐞 𝐭'𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞]

or, haku comforts you in his own unique way

pairing: haku kusanagi x f!reader author’s note: first fic in i don’t know how long and my first fic for tokyo debunker, everyone cheers! this fic is quite comical... at least for me lol to be honest this fic was born out of my love for haku, he and his flirting got me sick!!!! i demand more scenes in which haku flirts with mc!!!!!! possible ooc!haku but bear with me pls

english isn't my native language!

Your days at Darkwick Academy were never boring enough, not when every single ghoul and staff member was able to double down your already tiring and tedious workload. 

Your days spent running from house to house, from task to task, without even being able to take a small break.

Today wasn’t different from usual. Your day started with helping Kaito with his remedial classes, then you gave Sho a hand with Highway to Home, only to then sprinting towards Jabberwock to stop Towa from striking down an anomalous creature who accidentally hurt Haru, to then team up with Haru to bring Ren back to Jabberwock.

Cue said fugitive yelling about you and that clown not understanding the basic concept of boundaries.

Of course, your day wasn’t even far from being done. Your lunch break was cut short when you received a lovely call from Romeo, and between all the acronyms he yelled, you only understood that BTH, aka Sinostra’s famous troublemaker captain, was up to no good. 

You had just a minute to say goodbye to the delicious food Sho gave you, unceremoniously left on the table half-finished.

And there you were, sprinting towards Sinostra to avoid explaining to the Chancellor how in the hell the Darkiwick Academy population decreased in a few minutes. And why it was always Sinostra’s fault.

Not even the time to breathe, that you found yourself on Jiro’s shoulder as he and Yuri, who didn’t forget to remind you that he was a busy man, and he didn’t have time to play hide and seek with you, went straight to Mortkraken for your daily medical visit. Your fault? Forgetting about said medical visit.

At least you were able to relax a bit, until your phone rang up for the nth time, and it was Frostheim captain’s turn to call for your help, or in other words, giving you some tedious task he considered boring. 

Great, you were not done yet.

Maybe it was time to create a trade union with the cats and demand less work hours…

You were done for the day, at least until your phone rang up once more. 

Sitting on a bench with your eyes closed, your body relaxed under the gentle breeze of the night, a sigh of relief left your lips, you survived another hellish day, at least it wasn’t as bad as others. Luckily this time, you didn’t have to run and miss Romeo’s bullets as he tried to hunt you and Kaito down, all because the blonde still hasn’t paid his debt.

Tired and hungry, you groaned, your eyes opening to find the moon, half-moon to be more precise, shining all alone, as no stars were around.

You and that moon were so similar; the moon shining all alone in the dark night, and you alone in an academy full of ghouls and trying to find a cure to your curse.

Suddenly you felt the presence of someone, and before you could realize what was happening, a bag was dropped on your lap.

“There you are, [Name].” A familiar voice said, a so gentle one compared to the ones you were used to, and you realized who the voice belonged to. It was Haku.

“Why so surprised? You weren’t expecting me, how cruel~” He joked as he sat down next to me.

“Haku-san! Why are you here? Is everything alright at Hotarubi? Ther-” Haku stopped before you could say more.

A light frown adorned his face, as his finger was gently silencing your rambling, before with his other hand gently flicked your forehead. 

“You worry too much about the others. You should learn to focus first on yourself and then take care of us. We may look helpless to you, but we aren’t.” He scolded you, his expression still serious.

You whined a little, your fingers massaging your forehead. It was the second time that Haku flicked your forehead, it seemed his favourite scolding method.

 “I am… I am sorry.” You murmured “I will focus more on my well-being…”

He nodded before he pointed to the bag on your lap. “I brought you some food, with all that running you did today, I am sure you’re more than hungry. I bought everything from that first-year’s truck. The one from Vagastrom.”

Your eyes shined brightly after opening the bag, Sho’s food was a fricking God’s gift after a long and tiring day. 

“W-What!? Thank you so much, Haku-san!” You grinned as you happily ate your dinner. Haku, on the other hand, just chuckled at your grin.

You were so hungry that in a flash, the once full of food bag was now empty. As per usual, the food Sho cooked was delicious. 

“Thank you again for the food, Haku-san. “ You thanked him sincerely, a shy smile on your lips, you always felt in debt with him, he was always there whenever you need him. Even the small gesture of buying your dinner, that for many would be seen as something small, for you was a silent message, a gesture meaning he was always there to give you a hand when you were feeling down or in need of help. 

Pushing a strand of your hair aside, you turned towards him, smiling shyly. His presence was charming enough that even a simple smile from him, was enough to fluster you.

“Haku-san… Sometimes I think you like spoiling me, you’re always with me when I am in troubles. You always lend me your shoulders, and you always hear me out. I don’t know how to thank you enough. I am so glad to have you by my side.” You confessed, your eyes now on your lap, trying to hide your flushed expression. 

A pregnant silence fell, you slowly realized that your words might sound like a confession of a sort. Panic flew in your body as you furiously tried to explain yourself, and embarrassment blossomed on your face.

“H-Haku-san, i-it’s not like that! I-I didn’t mean to… I mean… I didn’t wan-” He just chuckled, shaking his head, his fingers running through his hair as he looked at your flustered reaction.

“You’re something else, [Name].” He snickered “Spoiling you…” He muttered, before a sly smile unfolded on his lips.

“You know… “ He began “I don’t mind spoiling you, and if you really feel guilty you can always marry me. Then you won’t worry about being spoiled.”

Oh my god…

Oh my god…

You were sure now you were blushing like crazy, how could he say something like that with that nonchalance?!

“H-H-Haku-san!” You whined out, jumping on your feet, your heart pounding furiously, almost leaping out your rib cage.

The Hotarubi vice-captain maybe took pity of your flustered state, as he got up too, his hand ruffling your hair.

“Take your time, my offer is always up~” He teased, winking.

You prayed that God took mercy of you and made you disappear immediately.

“C’mon princess, don’t stay there, I will escort back you to the chapel. And on our way back, you can always think about my offer~”

He was going to be your death, in one way or in the other.

[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.

[kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit]

Hii! I just wanted to say I love your Nefero fics!! If you can, may I request where reader is hanging out with Cleon, (like you know platonically) and Nefero’s like, “what’s so great about him, I’m right here!” And he gets all pouty from lack of attention. (Also do you think you can make fem!reader a kitsune monster?)

Hi hi!

Thank you so much! I'm glad you love the fics of him so far :]

Sure I can make a different reader variation (it's funny I kinda don't describe the reader as any monster so this was interesting to try out)

Also possibly i will make a Cleon x fem! Reader soon

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Male!Nefera DeNile x Kitsune! fem! Reader

Prompt- [Name] is hanging out with Cleon while she's at the brother's house just talking and laughing, then Nefero barges in being all pouty

She/her pronouns

Using [Name] as substitute for y/n

Nickname for reader- my love/my jewel/my queen

Fluff/Nefero being pouty/clingy bf/jealous Nefero

Art not mine found on pinterest

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(Good excuse to use this fanart lol)

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We see Cleon and & [Name] on the couch laughing and giggling, they share funny stories of their respective friend groups and gossip about whatever drama Spector had posted on his Blog that was new to [Name] since now she had graduated a year ago with Nefero.

"Oh my rah! Can you believe that Frankie found a new ghoul just 3 weeks after the previous one? It's crazy how he finds them" he dramatically sighs "that boy is gonna get in trouble with how many ghouls he dates" [Name] laughs "he'll soon find an angry big brother at his doorstep" she takes a sip of her lemonade then placing it down "I wouldn't doubt it either, i mean he's a great guy but we tell him all the time to be careful who you chose to get with next" [Name] nods "that's good, keep trying to put sense into that boy" "Oh please like he'd have the brain cells for that" [Name] throws her head back in laughter "Hahaha stawpp that's mean" she slaps his arm.

"you laughed at it though!" He counters pushing her,causing her to fall "Haha- oof, alright fair" she adjusted herself to sit criss-cross on the lavish rug she holds one of her tail on her lap petting it softly and her ears twitching as she still giggled at the little jab Cleon took on his friend "okay so how's that ghoul you told me about-"

On the other side of the room at the entrance of the living room stood a jealous Nefero practically seething that his little brother had taken his lovely girlfriend when she went to get a glass of lemonade to now talking on the couch with his younger brother

'Why is he taking all her attention she's here for ME not him' Nefero stood their seething in anger "that's it I'm going over there" he walks into the room

[Name] looks over Cleon's shoulder and she realized that Nefero was coming and oh boy he looked pouty/angry 'well guess I overstayed my welcome with Cleon it seems' she gets up dusting the invisible dust from her green cargo pants that where matching with Nefero's

"Hey Nefie" she waves as he gets closer, he huffs through his nose and folds his arms to his chest as he stops in front of her "oh my,we're doing it like that now?" He looks at her with his pouty face, [Name] sighs "looks like I gotta go, see you some other time Cleon,good luck with that ghoul you're talking too" she takes Nefero's arm that is still crossed over his chest and she leads him out the room and to his bedroom

[Name] looks at him as she closes the door behind them, he's still pouty but refuses to speak about it which was fine she'd just had to make it up to him but first he'd have to stop this silly tantrum of jealous

"Do you want to cuddle" she asked him but in turn he only looked to the side in a huff "no" [Name] walked up to him her tails swishing from side to side as she did so "you sureee" she held out her arms and wrapped them around his torso snuggling closer chest to chest "very" she sighed "come on Nefie don't be like that, let's lay down and take a nap" [Name] puts a hand through his hair gently

He didn't budge only looking at her with his purple eyes his face stone cold "i don't think so" [Name] sighed and decided that the best option was to just lay in bed and hope he takes the bait

She walks over to the large king size bed takes of her slippers and gingerly opens the blankets lush velvet covers and gets under them, she wiggles her way in and after a few moments gets very comfortable in the sheets/blankets softness, resting her head in her signature pillow (she had claimed to be for only her when she was at his house) and swiftly went to sleep.

Nefero stood still looking at his ghoulfriend being all cute in his bed, her head was peaking pit revealing her soft (h/t) (h/t) hair and her ears that where now flat on her head in comfort, her breath was steady and calm, oh how hard it was for him to now go over there and cuddle..

"Oh whatever" he grumbles and goes over to the bed, tales of his own house slippers opens the blankets and gets in swiftly, he gets closer to her body and wraps his toned arms around her waist, he cuddles her into his chest and he lays his head on the pillow, looking at [Namd] he knew that staying grumpy wouldn't get him what he wanted, now he had what he wanted for letting go of his jealous, cuddling with her smelling her perfume made him filled with joy and contentment having her here was enough

He freed one of his hands and slowly stroked her hair as gently her fox ears wiggled in response causing him to chuckle softly,as he did not want to wake her, with a final deep breath in, to lavish in her sweet aroma he finally let his body sleep having her warmth was like he was alive once more but this time it was better with [Name] besides him.

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Future author note here-

Apologies for the wait but here you go, hope it's up to you're standards!!

[fruityrituals]

only you

mountain ghoul x fem reader

summary: mountain takes you away for your birthday, just the two of you, and it the most romantic weekend away.

cw: some fluff, after care, rough s3x, oral, hair pulling, unprotected sex/breeding kink, ghoul form, light clit play, using tail during s3x.

comment: this fanfic has little to no plot other than birthday s3x. the smut starts right away practically lol.

dedicated to rachel. happy birthday!

(18+) / MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Ghost Masterlist

(divider below from @cafekitsune | pics above from pinterest)

songs: First Time by Hozier | Unknown / Nth by Hozier

This weekend is your birthday weekend and you have been looking forward to it for months because your ghoul boyfriend, Mountain, promised you a weekend with just the two of you since the band isn’t on tour the days leading to your birthday. Its the morning of your birthday and you’re fast asleep in bed. You’re usually awake before him, but considering the long night you both had last night, you are asleep when Mountain wakes up. He smiles and kisses your forehead before getting out of bed. After the bathroom, he decides to make you some breakfast so you can wake up to the smell and see that he’s making you your favorite. Once he’s done, he chuckles to himself when he sees you haven’t moved an inch, not even when he was humming in the kitchen and drumming with chop sticks on the counter while he waited for the eggs to cook. He smirks as an idea comes into his head. He remembers you two having a talk in the beginning of your relationship about how you have always wanted to be woken up to morning sex and what better day than your birthday, he thought.

He makes his way over to the bed slowly sinking down on his knees at the foot of the bed as he slowly takes the blanket off your already naked body. You shiver a bit in your sleep as he whispers, “Don’t worry angel, you’ll be warm again soon”. He leans forward holding himself over you as he kisses your neck gently, then slowly trails his kisses down to your chest kissing each of your breasts before taking one of your nipples between his lips giving it a soft tug in between his teeth causing a little gasp to escape your lips and goosebumps to fill your skin. You slowly start to wake up as you feel his lips all over your body trailing down lower. The next thing you feel is your legs being spread open and Mountain dragging his tongue through your folds. You moan out softly opening your eyes and looking down at him with a smile as you say “Mmm, Good morning”. He looks up at you from the spot between your legs with a smirk on his face as he says, “Good Morning Birthday Girl”. He dives back between your legs as he flicks his tongue against your clit causing you to moan out his name and arch your back off the bed a bit as you reach one hand above your head gripping the pillow and the other hand falls into his hair gripping it. He continues his play on your clit with his tongue then he slips a finger into you causing you to whine out because his fingers aren’t enough, you want him. Your hips squirm as you grind yourself against his tongue and moan out, “Fuck I need you so bad please” and he replies with “Ill give you whatever you want”.

He leaves your core and positions himself over your body as he reaches your lips and kisses you roughly as he pulls down his boxers. You wrap your legs around his waist when his boxers are off and he reaches a hand down between the both of you grabbing his cock and he rubs the tip through your folds getting himself lubricated from your wetness. His breathing hitches from feeling how wet you are and he places his tip into your entrance then pushes in slowly as you both let out moans. Once he’s settled deep inside of you, he positions himself better as he leans down finally kissing you again and he starts moving his hips in and out of you. Your legs round his waist loosens and falls as you spread himself wider for him. You place both hands in his hair gripping it as he slowly starts to pick up his pace thrusting into you a little faster. He curses against your lips as he tries to keep his human glamour up. He doesn’t like having sex with you in his ghoul form because he’s afraid of hurting you, but by the sounds of his grunts and his pace quickening and hardening, you don’t think he can hold back much longer. He groans louder as you toss your head back breathing heavily and gripping the bedsheets tight in your fists. Suddenly you hear a sound that sound like a growl and your pussy feels like its being stretched wider, so you gasp out and open your eyes seeing him in his ghoul form now. Panic spreads across his face and he’s about to pull out before you shake your head and wrap your legs around his waist again, “Mountain please, please dont stop that feels so good, i promise you aren’t going to hurt me in the way you think”. He looks down at you contemplating before saying “if you need me to stop or slow down at any point please tell me. I am being so serious please promise me because I cannot bare to hurt you. I couldn’t live with myself”. You cup his face with both hands rubbing his cheeks with your thumbs looking into his eyes, “I promise I will tell you”. The reassurance is all he needs because hes suddenly pulling out and flipping you over onto your hands and knees quickly.

You feel his heavy thick cock slowly enter you and it stings this time but in the best way possible. You let out a soft whine as you bite your knuckles. He bottoms out all the way and you feel so full. He has told you about how he is during sex in his ghoul form and that he was too scared to hurt you but you were never scared about it. You actually wanted him in his ghoul form even more because that is his natural form. You know he has more self control than he thinks he does, so you trust him. You can tell by his labored breathing that he’s already holding back as he’s trying to let you adjust, so you look over your shoulder at him and say, “Mountain I need you to please fuck me before I get impatient. I promise I’ll tell you if I need you to stop”. He bites his lip growling a bit as he nods and grips on you your hips. You feel his nails dig into your skin a bit which causes you to flinch and then he starts thrusting into you. You let your head hang down as you grip the bedding and let out moans as you feel yourself being stretched. It hurts but not in a way where you need him to stop. The pain has the pleasure coursing through you and wanting more. It feels like each thrust becomes harder until all you can hear is the sounds of both of your body’s slamming against each other as he takes you hard from behind. He practically grunting and moaning the whole time, so the combination of his noises and the way he’s fucking you right now had your stomach knotting up tight.

Mountain lets himself let go as he leaned forward pushing your head down into the bed and you let out a yelp as your upper half of your body is pressed against the mattress and your ass it up In the air as he relentlessly pounds into you hard and says, “You’re such a good girl for me. You and your tight little pussy around my ghoul cock”. You have never heard I’m talk like that during sex and it causes you to moan loud and come apart as your orgasm slams into you. You’re gasping and moaning out as he continues his hard pace. You feel overstimulated so you start squirming around as tears roll down your cheeks. He pushes your head into the mattress as he grips your hair, the grip he has on your hair has you wincing but you don’t want him to stop. He leans forward and growls into your ear ,”Come on angel I know you have one more for me”. You shake your head ,”I can’t it's too much” you gasp out. He stops thrusting and says “Do you want to stop?” You shake your head quickly and he smirks as he turns you onto your back then thrusts back into you with the most carnal smirk on his face. When he’s bottomed out, he leans forward and wraps a hand around the back of your neck sitting you up, you prop yourself up on your elbows as he says “Watch as I fuck your pussy” he moans out. You look up at him and nod as you both look into each other with so much lust then he trails his eyes down to where you connect and you follow his gaze as you both watch his cock pounding into you. His tail comes around and runs along your thighs causing you to shiver, then it moves to your clit and starts stroking circles making you squirm. You didn’t think you could orgasm again but you feel your climax quickly approaching again. You moan out closing your eyes and tossing your head back as your walls tighten around his dick. He moans louder when he feels you tighten and that’s enough to send both of you over the edge as he pounds into you hard riding out both of your highs as you both cum hard. You yell out his name and he smashed his lips to yours kissing you sloppily and roughly. His hips slowly come to a stop which cause the both of you to let out soft whines at the same time before he slowly pulls out, earning another whine. You both are slick with sweat and he falls next to you in bed.

You lie in bed with him with your head on his chest as you both catch your breath. Your legs tangled together, your breast pressed against his side. Hes playing with your hair gently as he places a kiss on top of your head, “Lets get some breakfast in you and im going to clean you up after. Wait here”. You nod as he kisses your head one more time before moving out from under you. He gets out of bed pulling on some underwear and walks out of the bedroom into the kitchen. You lay there for a few seconds smiling before you sit up and grab a hair clip from the night stand and pull your messy hair back clipping it up. You lean against the headboard as you pull the blanket onto your lap a little and look outside the window seeing the rain clouds coming in. You love when it rains because you get to stay in all day with Mountain, which im sure thats what they were going to do today anyway since you only wanted to be with im for your birthday. You rented a small country side home on airbnb so you both could have some peace and quite alone so this is the perfect place for you to be stuck indoors all day.

Moments later, He comes back into the room holding a bed tray that has a vase of wildflowers. Once he set the tray down over your lap, your eyes begin to swell with tears as you smile down seeing he made you your favorite, a breakfast burrito, with a cup of orange juice, and a birthday card. You look up at him and smile, “This is perfect Mount, thank you. Where did you get the orange juice from? We didn’t have anymore.” He kisses your forehead then walks around to the other side of the bed and gets settled next to you, “I know you love orange juice and we are too far from town, so I couldn’t go get some, but while i was outside picking flowers for you, I noticed an orange tree in the backyard so i picked a few and found a juice presser in the kitchen”. You couldn't help but smile wide at him with tears in your eyes again, “You made fresh orange juice for me because you know i like orange juice and we didn't have any?”. He nods, “of course, why wouldn't I?”. You lean over and place a hand on the side of his face kissing him deeply, “Thank you Mountain, this is all so perfect. I love you”. He smiles moving the lose strand of hair out your face, “I love you”, he says back as he leans back against the headboard. You pick up your burrito taking a bite, “Are you going to eat too?” You ask him as you set your food down to take a sip of the juice. He moves closer to you and wraps an arm around you as you eat, “I wasn't too hungry this morning but i ate some cereal while i was cooking your breakfast. Im okay until lunch angel”. He kisses your temple and sits with you for a few minutes talking to you about the plans for next tour before he gets out of bed and goes into the bathroom as you finish your food.

When you finish eating, he moves the tray out of the way and scoops you up bridal style causing you to laugh as you wrap an arm around his neck. He takes you into the bathroom where he had a warm bath drawn. He sits you in the tub and you beam up at him as you watch him take off his underwear and climb in behind you. You lean into him as he is leaning back against the tub as he runs his hands on your body cleaning you with a wash cloth. You both relax against each other as you talk and listen to music he has playing. You look up at him as you say, “This has been the best birthday so far. Being here with only you. Its all I wanted” and with that, you spent the rest of your birthday tangled in each other.