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beskarandblasters · 24 days

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Illicit Affairs

Part One of Time, Wondrous Time

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist | AO3

Series summary: You’re California Crest Studios’ newest production assistant, getting the opportunity to work on the hit movie, The Man From Deadhorse. But when you meet the movie’s lead, Cooper Howard, you fall head-first into a secret affair. Enter a war, a cryogenic freezer, and a two-hundred-year time jump. And yet despite all that, you just might run into him again.

Chapter summary: The fateful night where it all starts with Cooper Howard.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: unspecified age gap, infidelity, reader is able-bodied and wears a skirt, workplace romance, secret mutual pining, fingering, one pussy slap, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, pet names (sweetheart), no use of y/n

A new beginning. A foot in the door in the industry you’ve been dying to get into– Hollywood. You’re California Crest Studios' newest production assistant and you get to work on the upcoming movie, The Man From Deadhorse. Although you’re not typically a fan of Westerns, you’re grateful for any experience you can get.

You’re hiding in the bathroom, killing time until production starts after getting to the studio rather early; LA traffic is unpredictable and your anxiety got the best of you this morning. You make sure your makeup is perfect and smooth down your skirt before walking to the soundstage. California Crest Studios is huge. It’s going to take forever to get used to not only the layout but also the hustle and bustle of a living, breathing set.

The soundstage is overwhelming to put it plainly. Everyone’s talking in pockets of well-established groups and you feel like an outsider looking in, trying desperately to look like you belong here. You search the room for a familiar face but there are so many people around it’s overwhelming. You met the director, Emil, at your interview but other than him, everyone here is a stranger.

Are you supposed to interrupt a conversation and ask what you’re supposed to do? Are you supposed to wait until you’re addressed? Are you supposed to–

“First day on set?”

You look to your left and find a man, stunning you with his bright smile. One look at his attire tells you he’s in costume, donning a blue shirt with gold fringe. He must be an extra or something. Whoever he is, you can’t deny that he’s devilishly handsome, could even be considered leading man type of handsome.

“That obvious, huh?”

He chuckles, placing his hands on his hips. “You’ll get the hang of it. Are you one of Emil’s new assistants?”

“I am,” you sigh, “I’m not sure where he is, though.”

“I’ll go find him for you,” he smiles, walking away before you can protest. Fuck, you’re not trying to bring any unnecessary attention to yourself. Not on your first day.

The man disappears within the pocket of people and eventually returns with Emil. He greets you with a smile and says, “Welcome to your first day on set! I see you’ve met Cooper, our leading man.”

He continues to talk but it turns into white noise. Your mind is too focused on the words: leading man.

You vaguely hear Emil talk about what his expectations of you are, but he finishes with “For now you can just go to the studio’s cafe and get us coffee.”

Sigh. Comes with the territory you suppose.

He goes to grab you a pen and paper, leaving you alone with Cooper. You awkwardly shift your weight between your feet, wanting desperately to make conversation with him but fearing that you’ll just annoy him.

“Don’t be so nervous,” he says. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thanks,” you smile.

“I never caught your name.”

You introduce yourself and he does the same, adding, “But I suppose Emil already did that for me.”

He chuckles and extends his hand out, you shake his hand and determine he has a nice firm handshake. The kind where you can just tell he’s a confident man.

Emil returns with a pad and a pen and immediately starts shooting off coffee orders for him and some of the other people on set.

“By the end of this week, you won’t need to jot these down. You’ll have them all memorized.”

“Is that a challenge?” you ask playfully.

He laughs and says, “Sounds like you’ll fit in here,” before walking back into the set.

You turn towards Cooper and ask, “And what about you, Mr. Howard?” ready to take down his order.

“Please, Miss, call me Cooper. I’ll just have a black coffee.”

“You got it, Cooper,” you smile before familiarizing yourself with the set and crew, taking down everyone’s coffee orders before heading to the studio cafe.

You walk back to the soundstage with a large paper bag in hand, walking extra carefully to ensure the copious cups of coffee don’t spill. It’s already been an eventful morning but your mind keeps circling back to Cooper Howard. The first person you met on set, the first person to show you an act of kindness. You’re practically swooning over him.

A small part of you wants to believe that he was flirting with you. But you quickly push that out of your mind. He’s an actor. He’s naturally charismatic. And besides, he wouldn’t want anything to do with a production assistant for fuck’s sake.

You pass out everyone’s coffee back at the soundstage, surprised by just how nice most of the crew are. Of course, some people couldn’t be bothered to give you the time of day. To them, you’re someone who’s at the bottom of the barrel, someone they don’t have to treat with respect.

As for Cooper… God, he knows how to make you feel special, graciously accepting his coffee and thanking you up and down. But quickly enough it’s time to shoot and you’re tasked with making sure no one accidentally walks into the shot. It seems easy enough. For the most part, you just watch Cooper act and find yourself captivated by him. You’re not typically into Westerns but he has such a commanding aura about him that’s impossible to ignore.

After a few hours, the crew breaks for lunch. You learn lunch is catered most days which is nice. But now you’re in the first-day predicament where you must decide if you’re going to eat alone or encroach on an already established group.

You sit on the concrete with your legs straight out in front of you, eating the lunch you packed. All around you groups of people socialize and chatter. You can only hope that one day you’ll have your own group like this on set. As you’re about to take a bite of your sandwich, a voice above you asks, “Need a lunch buddy?”

You can tell just by his voice that it’s Cooper. But you can’t help but wonder… Why does he want to have lunch with you?

Doesn’t he have friends? Or even… a girlfriend? A wife?

“Sure,” you smile, scooching over so he can sit next to you.

“How’s your first day going so far?”

“Not bad. I’m sure I’ll get the flow of everything soon.”

“You’ll be a natural in no time. I’m sure of it.”

“Thanks,” you respond, starting to soften up. “What about you? How long have you been an actor?”

“Quite a while now. But I wasn’t always an actor. I was in the Marines before.”

You thank him for your service and it falls silent between you two. You assume this is where the conversation ends but to your surprise, he says, “Enough about me. Tell me about yourself.”

You share more details of your background, telling him things that range from where you went to college, what your family’s like, and where you grew up. He listens with such care and respect, occasionally nodding along. You didn’t expect to make any friends on your first day, let alone with the leading man. And yet here he is, listening to your stories as if you’re the most interesting person in the world.

Except it’s ripped away from you too soon.

Just as the conversation hits a lull again, someone catches his attention. He gets up and walks away, to a beautiful woman standing by the food table. Your heart sinks. You knew it was too good to be true.

Hang on. She could be a studio executive. She could be a coworker, a fellow actress even.

But the way he kisses and pulls her close tells you otherwise. You watch them interact, hopefully in a way that’s not painfully obvious as you finish your lunch. He caresses her face, listening to her talk in a way that reminds you of how he listened to you. You should’ve known better. He’s just naturally charismatic. He’s an actor for crying out loud. It was staring you right in the face.

They kiss goodbye and part ways. You look away and pretend to pack up your lunch. He stands before you and says, “Sorry, that was my wife. I should’ve introduced you two. That was rude of me.”

“No worries,” you smile.

He offers you his hand and helps you up, smiling at you again as he says, “Let’s get back to work, shall we?”

You nod and notice he’s still holding your hand. He squeezes it before he lets go, making your stomach do a flip. God, he gives you whiplash.

The workday wraps up rather uneventfully. And you’re left feeling exhausted, wondering how long it’ll take your body to get used to this new schedule.

Before you leave for the day Cooper places a hand on your shoulder; he’s out of costume, wearing a white t-shirt that’s a little too tight around his biceps, with his jacket slung over his shoulder.

He looks you in the eye, telling you, “Good job today. Glad to have you on board.” He smiles at you again and tells you good night before walking to his car and driving off.

You sit in your car and mentally talk yourself down, reminding yourself that he probably just does this with all the new hires, that he’s just a nice guy. But most importantly, he’s married. He’s off-limits. And before lunches together become a regular thing, you’re going to stop it while you can.

You’re going to try your hardest to not fall for Cooper Howard.

It’s the end of your first workweek and lunches alone have already proved to be a failure. Every time you tried to sneak away to your car or the studio cafe, Cooper would catch you and ask, “Mind if I join you?”

How could you ever try to say no to him? How could you ever deny yourself alone time with him? Your gut would swirl with guilt. But you never understood why. The act of getting lunch together is inherently innocent. You know he views it that way. But why can’t you? Until Friday night when you finally place your finger on why…

It’s because the more he opens up, the more you learn about him, you can’t help but fall for him harder. He told you about his childhood, his time in the Marines, how he was honorably discharged, and most importantly, his daughter.

If he wasn’t already off-limits before, he most certainly is now.

You spend your weekend thinking about him whenever your mind is idle. You’re treading into dangerous waters now. This is more than a silly workplace crush. This is full-on infatuation now. When you’re alone in bed, your hand slips down your pants, teasing your entrance as you close your eyes, picturing that Cooper’s above you, playing with your body. The fantasies are dangerous, feeling entirely too real. Even though you don’t know what it’s like to be pleasured by him, your imagination runs wild. You moan his name, thankful that you live alone for once. But once the self-induced orgasm subsides you’re left with guilt. And you’re conflicted about that guilt. You’re picturing these things that have never happened, that will never happen. What’s the harm in that? And yet, your kind keeps circling back to the unfortunate reality; he’s married. The guilt doesn’t seem to go away.

Sunday night rolls around and as you go to bed, you remind yourself that you need to be better about distancing yourself. Hopefully, you’ll listen for once.

No lunch together on Monday.

The same goes for Tuesday.

You managed to get to your car in time on Wednesday.

The week is just about halfway over and you’d consider it a success.

But as you walk to your car on this warm night, he catches you off guard.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you respond, startled a bit.

“I don’t mean to bother you but I can’t help but wonder… Did I do something wrong?”

You glance at your surroundings, trying to gauge who’s near before you speak. He picks up on your nervousness and says, “We can talk somewhere private if that’s easier.”

“Sure,” you choke out, feeling the adrenaline already start to course through your body.

You awkwardly walk side by side to his trailer, both of you stiff as a board. Thankfully, most if not everyone has gone home for the night. But you can’t help but wonder if there’s someone around catching a glimpse at the star Cooper Howard, inviting a young production assistant to his trailer.

It isn’t until you’re behind closed doors do you actually relax, but not by much. He sits you down on the sofa in his trailer, telling you to take your time as you awkwardly twiddle your thumbs.

“You didn’t… do anything to upset me.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he sighs. “But it doesn’t explain why you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

“I…” you trail off. “It was to get my feelings to go away.”

God, you can’t believe you just said that.

“...Feelings?”

You put your head in your hands and feel your cheeks heat up out of embarrassment. That was a terrible idea. Your job that’s barely two weeks old flashes before your eyes. You picture him telling his wife, laughing about the silly girl who thought she could take her man.

He places a hand on your back, rubbing it softly and catching you off guard.

“Someone’s got a little crush, huh?”

“I know. I know. It’s embarrassing,” you sigh, trying your hardest not to cry.

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. Can I tell you a secret?”

You barely heard what he said after sweetheart. Your ears are ringing with white noise but you can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet. He leans in close, whispering in your ear, “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a crush, too.”

“Oh yeah?” you scoff. “And who might that be?”

“I’ll give you a hint. She’s sittin’ in my trailer right now.”

You look at him with a bewildered expression on your face and say, “You’re joking.”

His face is impossibly close to yours.

“Cross my heart and hope to die, sweetheart.”

“But-”

You’re cut off with a kiss, warm and inviting. It tastes like the cinnamon gum you noticed that he chews after each meal. You’re startled at first before you melt into the kiss. His hands envelop your face, keeping you close. But it’s not close enough. You want more. You need more.

You move into his lap, straddling him and being sure to never break the kiss. His hands move from your face to your waist, holding onto you for dear life. You roll your hips into him and feel a bulge grow in his pants. You can’t believe your mind. You weren’t imagining it. There was something there all along.

It doesn’t take long for his hands to migrate to your skirt, lifting it before he squeezes your ass, moaning into the kiss before pulling away and cursing under his breath.

“Underwear off. Now,” he commands.

You happily oblige, pulling yourself off him to remove your underwear before you straddle him again. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them before playing with your entrance. You lean forward to kiss him again but he stops you, grabbing your chin with his other hand.

“Not so fast. Tell me, when did this crush start?”

“The day we met,” you say in between labored breaths as he teases you.

“Oh yeah? What was going through that pretty little head of yours?”

“Well, at first I thought you were an extra,” you smirk.

“You did not,” he says.

“Oh yes, I did.”

“Guess I went from some extra to the man you can’t seem to forget about real quick, huh?” he says.

But before you can answer he slaps your pussy, eliciting a sharp gasp from you.

“Stop teasing me already,” you plead.

“Are you whining?”

“Fuck… Yes.”

“Naughty girl.”

He finally gives in, plunging one finger inside of your already dripping cunt. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“So wet for me already,” he teases, curling his finger against your walls.

You place your hands on his shoulders as you roll your hips into him. He watches the physical evidence of your pleasure– your slack jaw, your wide eyes, your chest rising and falling, your cute gasps and moans. All thanks to him.

He adds a second finger and tells you, “That’s right. Fuck yourself on my fingers.”

You rock your hips back and forth, feeling his fingers push against your g-spot. Your pleasure comes to a head, the floodgates threaten to burst. He can sense it, too, the way your walls tense up around his fingers.

“Gonna cum?”

“Mhm,” you choke out.

“Let me feel it,” he commands.

With one last movement of your hips, you cum around his fingers. Your moans fill his trailer but you do your best to bite them back, unsure of who’s lurking outside. Your wetness seeps out of you and runs down his hand, coating your inner thighs in the process. His pupils are wide, looking at you with all of the lust in the world.

When you’re done coming down from your high, he coaxes you down on your back, thighs spread wide apart. He can’t get his cock out of his pants fast enough, hovering over you as he spreads your wetness on it with a few strokes.

“Such a good girl for me,” he praises, leaning down and pressing kisses along your jawline. All you can do is moan in response, aching for his cock to be inside you already. He slowly thrusts himself inside you and you grip onto his shirt for purchase. A deep moan gets caught in your throat, coming out as a choked-up sob as he draws his hips back and slams into you. He trails kisses from your jawline to your earlobe and down your neck while he repeatedly slams in and out of you.

“Takin’ my cock like such an angel,” he mutters, nipping at your skin.

Your second orgasm of the night is imminent, teetering on the edge as his cock hits the most perfect angles inside you. He props himself up on his hand, placing them by either side of your hand. He wants to watch your face as you cum on his cock. And when you do it nearly pulls his own orgasm from him, feeling your warmth clench and release his cock. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes due to the intense high you’re feeling. He watches as the pretty little moans slip past your lips.

He pulls out and rests on the back of his heels, letting his cum coat your stomach. He cums with a deep groan, sweat glistening on his forehead. The only sound in the trailer is your labored breaths, both of you coming down from your respective highs. He leans forward and grabs a box of tissues on the side table and cleans up the mess he just made before putting his cock away.

You reach for your underwear and stand up with shaky legs, looking at him as if you’re unsure if you should stay or go because the truth is, you don’t know what to do. At all.

“Should I…?”

He pats on the couch and says, “You don’t have to go just yet.”

You smooth down your skirt and notice a cum stain he left and suddenly feel sick to your stomach. You gingerly sit beside him, keeping your posture tight and controlled as he looks at you. He notices it right away.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine. Just intimidated I guess?”

“You can’t possibly be intimidated by me after that,” he chuckles. But then he adds, “Here, let me try to calm you down. Do you want to know what I thought of you when I first saw you?”

You turn towards him and say, “Sure.”

“I thought you were absolutely beautiful. Still do.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. But I also thought you seemed nervous.”

“I was.”

“But then I thought… What is she doing paying attention to me?”

“I could say the same for you,” you smile.

He leans in closer and kisses you again, hands enveloping your face once more. His breath is warm and his skin is slick with sweat. But you also realize… he smells like you and you wonder how he’s going to explain that to his wife.

He pulls away and glances at the clock on the wall.

“We should probably go. Gotta be here early tomorrow.”

“Right,” you say, standing up. “Should we go separately?”

“No need. There’s no one here this late.”

“You do this often?” you joke.

“No. Never,” he says nervously.

He opens the door and starts leading you back to the parking lot. He was right. The studio’s dead at this hour. The tension hangs heavy in the air and an awkward silence falls between you two.

“You know… I’m not going to tell anyone,” you say, not looking at him.

“Thank you,” he says in a small voice.

Once you’re back at your car, you can’t help but ask him, “So… What are you going to tell her?”

“I’ll just tell her a shoot ran late. It happens here and there.”

“Okay,” you nod, starting to get in your car. You secretly hope he’ll kiss you good night but in your heart, you know he won’t.

And you were right. He doesn’t.

“Good night,” he whispers.

“Good night,” you whisper back before he walks back to his car.

While you’re left alone, reeling from what just happened. A strange feeling swirls around inside you. But you’re not quite sure if it’s a sense of achievement or regret.

Part two

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