#all that supernatural better pay off
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dlwritings · 1 year ago
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No one asked me to do this but it looks like fun!
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pov: you’re in a horror movie
1. create your own look here
2. find out what role you are here
I kind of love the result I got :)
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no pressure tags: @foodiewithdahoodie @queereldritch @elhaspowers @gothbower @ohfallingdisco @josephandjamie @josephfakingquinn @johnsimms @cuethemulti @can-of-pringles @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @nebulousfishgills @mimisempai @thelostsisters @lokisgoodgirl @cultofsheep @onesmainbitch @jcbbby @whumpzone @catboysienna @lussiane333 @erdarielthewhumper @abitofboth @galactic-magick @llywenn @chaos-monkeyy @highwarlockofphilly (only if you feel like playing, no pressure or anything 🥰)
if I didn’t tag you and you’d love to join, please don’t hesitate to do so. I’d love to see the results you got. everybody is welcome!
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Too Many Beds
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist 
summary: you want nothing more than an excuse to sleep next to dean again
pairing: (pre-s1/s1) dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 2.1k 
warnings: none really, language, bed sharing, kissing, mutual pining, idiots in love, brief mention of the death of reader’s dad
timeline: starts slightly before season one, ends near the beginning of season one
author’s note: a spin on the classic 'just one bed, what ever shall we do?' trope lol
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You’d known Dean all your life, practically. You met him when you were six and he was eight; two lonely little kids stuck with absent (job-driven) fathers and baby brothers you felt responsible for. Over the course of the last eighteen-or-so years you ran into the Winchesters during hunts enough that you considered them family. 
When Sam left for college you were there for Dean and when you lost your dad in a hunting accident Dean was there for you. He actually stayed with you, not wanting you to hunt alone since your brother was off at college too.
So, for the last six months you’d been hunting with Dean (who hadn’t spoken to Sam for over a year).
“One room, two queens,” Dean said to the woman behind the counter, placing “his” credit card on the space between them before sliding it toward her.
“We’re all booked up I’m afraid,” she said.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I was actually about to turn on the no vacancy sign.”
“This is the third motel we’ve been to,” you said, “every one of them has been full—you’ve gotta have something!”
“I mean, there’s technically one room left but the heater’s out and my boss said not to let anyone sleep there because of that.”
There was a silent pause; you and Dean shared a knowing look.
“We’ll pay in cash, your boss ‘ll never know,” you told the woman. She smiled and nodded as you paid her with cash. 
“Room 209, my boss gets here at ten tomorrow morning so please leave before then.” She handed you the key and you nodded in thanks.
You had underestimated just how cold the room could be, but when you unlocked and opened the door you understood why the owner didn’t want anyone staying here.
“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled, following you into the room and feeling the cold air. “We’re gonna freeze our asses off in here!” he quickly closed the door behind him, hoping the icy air hadn’t swept any snow into the room.
“It’s either this or we sleep in the Impala,” you shrugged, “and, no offense to your car, but it’s fuckin’ uncomfortable to sleep in.”
“And there’s only one bed,” Dean sighed.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you told him, ignoring his complaints. 
**
“Are you shivering or crying?” Dean asked.
You rolled over so you could meet his stare; “Shivering! It’s fuckin’ cold in here!”
“You wanna…cuddle up, maybe?” he asked hesitantly.
“Excuse me?” you laughed a little.
“Look, I’m not thrilled about it either, but it’s cold in here and unless we both wanna catch fucking pneumonia we better be smart and share body heat.”
You sighed, weighing your options; “Fine. But we never, and I mean never speak of this again, you hear me?”
“Understood.” He nodded.
You rolled back over as he scooted closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.
“This okay?” he asked quietly, his lips ghosting the back of your head.
“Yeah,” you mumbled back. “Thank you, Dean.”
**
You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring loudly. You were used to his snores, sure, but he’d never been this close. He was laying on his stomach and resting on your chest; his mouth open and his hair tickling your neck. Your first reaction was annoyance but then it quickly washed away as you realized you didn’t want to move a muscle, so Dean could continue sleeping. 
And the more you laid there, listening to his snores, the more you realized how comfortable you were…even in such a physically uncomfortable situation. 
As the time passed and the sun began to rise, you cursed the light that was slowly but surely peeking through the curtain and onto Dean’s face. 
“Morning,” he mumbled to you as he lifted his head up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his right hand before wiping his mouth. “Sorry,” he chuckled, noticing the small spot on your gray sweater dampened with his drool.
“It’s okay,” you mumbled back. “I think it’s your sweater anyway.”
“I thought it looked familiar.”
He rolled off of you and out of bed. 
You watched as he padded across the dirty carpet and over to the small kitchen. He turned on the coffee maker and the loud, off putting grinding noise made his face scrunch before he quickly shut off the (definitely broken) machine.
“So much for coffee,” he grumbled. “You gonna sit there all morning or you wanna get outta here? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”
“I’m getting up,” you replied. You would usually be annoyed at him for rushing you to wake up, but this time the annoyance was…different. Something about his bedhead, the way his lips were pouting over the lack of caffeine, and how he looked in his brown Henley and baggy sweats just made you wanna hold him again. All you wanted was to pull him back into bed with you and hold him in your arms forever.
**
You were beyond frustrated at this point. How many stupid fucking hotels had to have vacant rooms with two beds and a functional heating system!? 
It had been nearly six months since you and Dean shared a bed and you had been looking for an excuse to sleep next to him ever since. 
But the last couple weeks had been different—Sammy was back. Yes, you loved Sam like a brother, but you missed getting to be alone with Dean. You missed sitting shotgun in the Impala and watching him drive.
Sam definitely noticed the way you looked at Dean, but the younger Winchester didn’t say a word. Without being too obvious about it, he tried to do little things that would let you be close to his brother. He’d sit in a certain chair or part of the couch so that you and Dean had no choice but to sit together. Or he’d make some lame excuse so that he got his own room while you and Dean had to share. “I need to do some more research and I need the light, why don’t you two just sleep in the other room?” for example. 
**
“Two rooms, please,” Dean said, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet.
“Unfortunately we’ve only got one room left,” the cashier replied. 
You almost couldn’t believe your ears, fucking finally!
“Oh, that’s too bad,” you faked your best frustrated look, of course Sam saw right through that.
“Well, I am not sharing with either or you,” he said with a teasing smile. 
“There’s actually a pullout couch in that room, as luck would have it,” the cashier informed the three of you. 
God fucking damn it, you thought to yourself.
**
It was barely after two when you felt the bed behind you dip, and you shook yourself awake. 
“The hell?” you asked, still half asleep.
“The pullout couch isn’t working,” Dean mumbled quietly. “You mind sharing with me?”
You smiled a little and scooted closer into his arms, indicating you were okay with him sleeping next to you.
“Of course I don’t mind sharing with you,” you whispered and his grip tightened.
**
“I’m gonna go get breakfast,” Sam announced. “I’m assuming you want your usual?”
Dean put his right pointer finger to his lips and furrowed his brows angrily. He gestured to you as you slept and Sam got the message. 
“Usual is good,” Dean whispered before Sam left.
Dean stayed laying perfectly still as you slept on his chest, soft snores escaping your lips and to Dean they were the sweetest sound. 
As you stirred awake slowly, he rubbed your back a little.
“Morning,” you mumbled, a small smile on your lips. “Where’s Sam?”
“He went to grab breakfast,” Dean told you. 
You furrowed your brows as you sat up, looked across the room, and realized something; “The pullout bed looks fine? I thought you said it wasn’t working?” You turned back to Dean, who had a sheepish grin growing on his lips.
“So…maybe I’ve just been looking for an excuse to sleep next to you again. Like we did back in that motel when the heat was out.”
“Really?” You attempted to hide the smile trying to find its way onto your face. 
“When we were checking in last night I noticed how your face lit up when they said there was only one room left,” Dean admitted. “And I saw that disappointed look you made when they said there was a pullout couch. So, am I wrong, or have you been wanting an excuse too?”
“I really liked sleeping next to you that night,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “And you’re right, I have been hoping for another ‘oh no just one bed, guess we’ll have to share’ situation but…”
“But what?” Dean asked when you trailed off. You looked down at him. 
“Dean, you and Sam have been like my brothers for as long as I can remember. I mean, Bobby practically raised all three of us and my actual brother as siblings! Your dad and my dad knew each other basically forever and I guess…I guess I figured our lives are too entangled for anything to ever actually happen between us. We’re family.”
“Chosen family, Y/n.” Dean smiled softly. “Doesn’t mean you have to be my chosen sister, you could be my chosen…you know…” 
You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his full lips. 
“That,” Dean finished his previous statement. 
“Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?” you suggested. “If Sam finds out, then your dad will find out, and he’ll immediately tell my brother, then before we know it Bobby—”
“I get the picture, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled before kissing you again. He put his hands on your cheeks as he sat up. He pulled you onto his lap, your legs now straddling his hips. His hands moved to your shoulders then trailed down to your lower back as yours went into his hair. You pulled away from him after a moment, huge smiles on both your faces.
You looked into his eyes, his truly beautiful eyes, and you bit your bottom lip ever so slightly. Your right hand rested on his left cheek, your thumb stroking his skin lovingly. 
“You’re awesome, Dean Winchester,” you whispered. 
“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he replied before he kissed you again. “And gorgeous, too,” he added. “You know how fuckin’ annoying it’s been, sleeping without you every night since that one time?”
“I do know, Dean, I’ve been just as annoyed about it.”
Dean kissed you one more time before he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, tucking his head into your neck. You wrapped your arms around him too, pressing your lips to his temple.
You pulled out of the hug so you could once again look at his face. Resting your forehead on his, you smiled before you kissed him again. 
“Breakfast,” Sam called out as he opened the door, “is served!”
You and Dean froze for a split second before you hurried off of him.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, “did I interrupt you two?”
“What?” you scoffed. “Of course not!”
“Interrupt? There’s nothing to interrupt?” Dean added.
“Oh…wow you two are fast,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen before putting the food down. “Well, pancakes, eggs, and bacon from the continental breakfast.” He gestured to the food now on the table. “Hope you’re hungry.”
As Sam sat down to eat, you looked at Dean anxiously. Say something you begged him with your eyes.
“Sammy,” Dean started as he got out of bed, “would you mind uh…not telling dad? About me and Y/n…kissing just now? When we find him, I mean.”
“Dad’s never really been invested in your love life, but he’s not an idiot,” Sam laughed. 
“So…you are gonna tell him?” Dean furrowed his brows in frustration.
“Dean, he knows you two are together, it’s not some big secret?” Sam replied, shoveling more food into his mouth. “Damn that’s good.”
“Okay, just hold on—what?” Dean asked. “What do you mean dad knows? There’s been nothing to know since like four minutes ago?”
“Wait,” Sam stopped eating and fully turned to face you and his brother, “are you trying to tell me this is the first time you two have kissed?” Sam furrowed his brows deeply as you and Dean both nodded. “So…never in high school?” You shook your heads again. “That prom we crashed?”
“Sam you were there the whole time? When would we have kissed?” you asked.
“Huh,” Sam let out a laugh. “I genuinely thought you two had been a thing since like… ‘98.”
“What!?” you and Dean exclaimed in unison.
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junkissed · 1 month ago
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nightwalker
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member — vampire!minghao x f reader genre — smut, a little thriller/horror/supernatural word count — 6.6k synopsis — the closing shift at the university library isn't the most exciting job in the world, but your hot colleague makes it a whole lot better. another added bonus: he's a vampire. content warnings — mentions of blood, blood drinking (from reader), biting, not really compliant with vampire lore (i made some stuff up for the sake of making it spookier so just go with it), minghao is kinda creepy but he's a nice vampire i promise smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, fingering, making out, aphrodisiac vampire venom (?), plenty of consent!! notes — inspired by the song "nightwalker" by ten! the biggest thanks ever to mars @onlymingyus for helping me brainstorm this one, from start to finish (plus @cheolism and @wonustars for fleshing out the concept with me!). i worked so so hard to get this out in time for halloween, and this is my first vampire fic so it was a challenge to get it to a place i was happy with. i hope yall enjoy, and please lmk in a reblog/comment/ask if it's something you liked or want to see more of !! :D
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there are many places that are exciting at night. bars, clubs, restaurants, theaters. especially on a saturday night, the town is full of life.
the university library where you work is not one of those places.
the study rooms have long since closed; computers have been shut off and the last few students have trudged home with bags under their eyes and bags full of half-finished papers. you don't usually work this late, but you're covering the graveyard shift for jun, who has a date with his girlfriend tonight. he definitely owes you one for this, but you get overtime pay for it so does it really matter in the end?
the closing shift isn't difficult. there's a few carts of returned books that need to be shelved, but that's really all there is to it. the only downside is that there's only one person working at night, so you're alone. but then again, some people might see that as an upside. as for you, it's got both pros and cons. it's not a shift you'd go out of your way to ask for, but you don't mind it once in a while. it's usually pretty peaceful after dark, and you can put on your headphones and play your music as loud as you want.
you pick up a stack of books for the history shelf, turning one over and flipping through it mindlessly. the cover is intricately detailed with flourishing silver engraving, and you pause a second longer to stare at it before you flip it around to check the number on its side.
you start to climb up the ladder and run your finger across the spines on the shelf, stopping where there's an empty space between the books. the job isn't hard, but it is boring. counting, shelving, counting again, alphabetizing. 
there's a sharp crack against the library window and you startle, whipping your head around to check behind you. but there's nothing there. it wasn't supposed to storm today… but it's probably just the wind. or maybe a sudden thunderstorm. or, it could be the guys from theta chi again. yeah, that sounds more like it. always the college kids getting up to trouble. it is a saturday night, after all, and this close to halloween there's bound to be at least a couple people throwing ragers tonight.
whatever it is, it's probably nothing to worry about. you've already locked up the rest of the building, so it’s just you alone in here now.
you turn back to the shelf, shoving the book into place before you reach for the next. best to get this over with as quickly as possible so you can go home. 
there's another booming sound, and now you're sure it's thunder because the whole room almost seems to rumble. you startle again at the noise, but this time your foot slips off the ladder and you lose your balance. you only have a split second to brace yourself as you start to fall, but you don't hit the ground.
suddenly there's a hand on your lower back, another on your arm, and you land on somebody's chest instead. you let out a scream, your loud shriek echoing through the silence of the library, and whoever caught you sets you back down on the floor.
you look up to see who it is, and you come face to face with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen. his long blond hair falls in waves at his shoulders, and his pale skin almost seems to sparkle under the overhead lights.
“you alright?” he asks calmly, breaking your trance.
you blink quickly and smooth down your shirt, trying to collect yourself. you just screamed at the top of your lungs in this poor man's face, and he's still being as polite as ever. “yeah, i'm fine, thanks to you. i'm lucky you were there.” you clear you throat and offer him a weary smile as you tell him your name. “i'm so sorry about that, by the way. and, you are…?”
“minghao,” he finishes for you. he doesn't say anything more. his tone is gentle and friendly, but there's still a sizzle of tension in the air around him that feels out of place.
you're trying to wrack your brain for information, but nothing's coming up. “you look familiar. do you work on campus? or— you're a student here?” you add the last part quickly, afraid to assume wrong. he looks young enough to be a student, but he sure doesn't seem like one. a grad student, maybe? or a phd candidate?
he nods. “department of health sciences.” he suddenly pauses, tilting his head to chuckle as if he's just thought of the funniest thing. “i'm sorry, i should've introduced myself better. you probably meet a lot of people, in a place like this.” he holds out his hand for you to shake. “dr. xu. maybe that name is a bit more recognizable. i teach classes in the fall.”
that feels a little more reassuring. and if he only teaches during the fall semester, that explains why you didn't recognize him more quickly.
you reach out to take his hand, and a shiver runs instantly through you when you feel his freezing palm against yours. the heater is running inside the building, but he just came in so maybe it's colder outside than you realize. but still, his grip feels unnaturally cold, as if he's radiating ice from the inside out.
“sorry, i'm just a little surprised. i thought i was in here alone. i swear i locked those doors…” you trail off, subconsciously glancing at the entrance. didn't you lock them? you hum quietly, trying to clear your mind. it's late, so clearly you aren't focused as much as you thought you were. “anyway. what can i help you with?”
minghao chuckles, almost sounding shy. “oh, i'm just here to return a book.” he pulls out a small, leather bound book from the pocket of his coat and hands it to you. his fingers graze against your wrist, and you have to force yourself not to wince at how cold his touch is. “working late, you know how it is.”
you scoff softly, nodding. “i sure do.” why do you suddenly feel like your tongue is in knots? “i'll check this in for you. is there anything…”
“no, that's all.” his words are short, but his tone still has that pleasant lilt to it that puts you at ease. “you've been quite helpful, i appreciate it. i'll get out of your way now.” he bows his head politely, giving you another smile. “be careful with those stairs.”
you turn around to set his book on the table behind you, letting out a chuckle as you start to reply. “i wi—”
but when you turn back around to tell him goodbye, he's already disappeared and you're standing by yourself. the library is deadly silent, not even the sound of footsteps or a door creaking. you turn again to look around for any signs of life, but the large room is completely empty.
you exhale, rubbing a hand across your forehead. the only evidence that minghao was ever there is the book still sitting on the table, looking up at you innocently, as if mocking your confusion.
whatever. all you have to do is just finish putting everything away so you can go home. it's not much longer.
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by the time you collect your things and close up the library (you're sure that you did this time, double and triple checking every lock), it's well after midnight.
at this time of night the buses aren't running anymore, so you're stuck walking home. yet another reason to yell at jun later, but you probably won't. you just hope for his sake that his date had better been worth it.
you're not afraid of the dark. it's a fairly safe town, and aside from the college kids stealing each other's bikes and throwing rocks at people's windows, there's not a whole lot of crime that happens here. but still, you don't want to be the first to change that.
you stick close to the inside edge of the sidewalk, your gaze flitting around you as you hold your bag tighter to your chest. your encounter at the library has already put you on edge, making the usually peaceful night sounds feel spookier. the chirp of crickets and the distant howling of dogs (or maybe wolves?) only makes you more nervous as you pick up your pace. you're already almost halfway home. everything is fine.
a whispering sound in the dark makes you freeze, and you catch a shadow slip past the light of a street lamp on the ground. the sound seems to bounce around, unintelligible soft breaths floating around your ears. it's hard to tell if it's only in your head or not.
“hello?” you call out loudly, trying to sound brave. you pull out your phone and turn on the flashlight, shining it around, but there's nothing there. probably just an animal, you tell yourself, but you know you're lying to yourself. no animal you've ever known sounds like that. the disjointed murmurs in your ears makes your skin prickle. maybe it's… fuck, you don't even know what it might be anymore. but you're getting closer now. everything is fine.
you start walking again and the whispering sound returns, and it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. the street is dark and empty, not a single car in sight, not a single light turned on inside the houses you walk past. it's too quiet, eerie.
you see another shadow moving. the whispering finally fades into a clear voice, calling out your name, and it sounds uncomfortably familiar. you whip around to check behind you, but the sight of minghao makes you relax. 
you exhale slowly, almost wanting to laugh with how overwhelmed with relief you are. you're not alone. there's someone here, and it's someone you know. everything is fine.
“are you following me, or something?” you scoff jokingly, but there's a little bit of truth to your words. two coincidences in one night feels like too many, but you're still glad to see him.
minghao laughs warmly, and somehow it makes the street seem smaller. “no, i live over here. i left the lab pretty late, just had some projects to finish up before tomorrow. sorry for startling you.” he pauses, looking you up and down. “i'm assuming you live down this way, too… would you like me to walk you home? it’s not very safe being out here alone at night, especially this time of year.”
his last words seem strange to you. what’s so different about this time of year? but a sharp gust of wind whips your coat around, so you don’t really have time to dwell on it for long. 
you pull your sleeves down to cover your hands, crossing your arms tightly over your chest to keep warm. it’s not usually this chilly, but maybe it’s just because you’re not usually out this late. the whistling of the wind through the trees makes you shiver, and you get the strange feeling that something’s watching you, something just out of reach. and suddenly, minghao’s offer seems like the best thing that could’ve happened to you tonight.
“please,” you tell him with a nod. “that would be great. thank you.”
he flashes another smile, and his teeth glint in the low light of the street lamp as he moves closer to you. “it’s my pleasure.”
now that minghao’s beside you, you’re able to zone out a little as you walk back to your house. the anxious, sort of uncomfortable feeling gnawing at the back of your thoughts is still there, but you push it down. it’s just the late hour. it’s just the wind. it’s just your mind playing tricks on you, and there’s really nothing to be worried about. 
you only realize that you’ve arrived once you notice minghao stop beside you. your mind is still elsewhere, so it doesn’t occur to you until later to wonder how he knew which house to stop at. the wind has completely died down, and the silence that follows is eerie, like the calm before a storm. except there is no storm. there’s only you, and minghao, and the dead of night.
you climb the steps to your front porch and pull your mail out from the metal box on the wall, tucking it under your arm as you fumble with your keys. your hand shakes from the cold as you move to unlock the door. “do you wanna stay for drinks or something?” you say, stepping inside and looking back at him.
you swear you see something flash across his eyes, but you're probably imagining things again; it's probably from the porch light flickering again. you really need to get that lightbulb changed soon. you've been putting it off for weeks, but as long as it still keeps your front door lit, then it's a project for another day.
he gives you a closed-mouth smile, nodding. “that'd be nice.” but despite his agreement he stays rooted in his spot outside, unmoving.
you hesitate in confusion. “well… come on in,” you say after a beat, gesturing inside the house with your arm. 
he finally moves, stepping tentatively through the doorway. once he's inside you flip the latch behind him, waiting for the familiar click as you hear the deadbolt slide into place. suddenly there's a tension in the room that you hadn't noticed before, and you can feel minghao's eyes following your every move.
“do you have extra locks for your door?”
he speaks up suddenly, and you jump a little in surprise. you're not usually on edge like this, but maybe it's just the season. they do say that strange things happen around halloween, after all. and on top of that, it's a full moon tonight, too.
when you don't reply right away, minghao pauses and leans against the kitchen counter, his tone casual as if he’s discussing the weather. “i just came across an article the other day about how easy it is for people to break those locks. you can never be too prepared, especially living alone…” he trails off, shrugging his shoulders.
you nod. you’d never mentioned living alone. but then again, that much is probably already obvious. no other cars parked in front of your house, no extra pairs of shoes in your front doorway, no lights on when you got home. “yeah.” you shift in place, trying to figure out how to bring the mood up.
“am i scaring you?” he asks, crossing his arms. his voice is gentle, but there's a hint of a smirk on his face that makes butterflies rise in your stomach.
“no.” you bite your lip. “should i be scared?”
“guess you’ll have to find out.”
you clear your throat and turn towards the counter, feeling your cheeks burn with heat. obviously he's just messing with you, and you have no reason to be this nervous. “i… i should probably just put my mail away, then i'll find us something to drink. you’re probably tired, i’ll just—”
in your haste to look busy, your hand slips and the stack of papers scatter across the floor. the edge of one of the thicker envelopes catches on your index finger, slicing through the skin, and immediately a pinprick of blood starts to seep from the cut. you jump backwards in surprise and let out a yelp, inhaling sharply as you bring your finger to your mouth out of instinct. 
when you realize what you've done, you pull your finger out of your mouth, squeezing your other hand around the wound to try and stop the bleeding. “sorry! oh my god, this is so embarrassing, i—”
but you stop when you look up and see minghao frozen in place, staring at your hand. his eyes have suddenly grown dark, a deep pitch black so that you can’t see his pupils, and his gaze is still fixed on the small smeared pool of crimson red on your fingertip. you’re about to ask him something, although you’re not sure what you mean to ask, but he speaks before you can get another word out.
“can i see?” 
his voice is like a lullaby, filling your ears like soft music, and before you can even think about what you’re doing you find yourself lifting your hand and holding it out towards him.
his eyelashes flutter as he takes your hand gingerly, his nostrils flared as he watches the blood still running down your finger. he finally breaks his concentration away from the cut, lifting his gaze to stare at you. the look in his eyes is so intense, and you swear you see his eye twitch but it could’ve just been a blink. he doesn’t break eye contact as he lifts your hand to his mouth, sliding his lips around your finger. you think you feel his teeth graze against your skin, but you probably imagined that. 
“band-aid?”
it’s not until he speaks a second later that you realize he’s taken your finger out of his mouth, and you look down at the cut. your hand feels cold and clammy, and you’re so dizzy that you have to lean against the counter so you don’t fall over. you blink and try to shake yourself out of your daze, but your body feels so heavy all of a sudden, too slow to move. even the soft kitchen light seems unnaturally bright to your eyes, and you feel lightheaded, as if all the blood in your body has rushed to the cut on your finger. “huh?”
minghao’s voice comes through clearer now, no longer the sweet melodic tone you’d heard earlier. now the sound is sharp, easily slicing through the warm fog in your mind. “do you have a band-aid?” he repeats.
you exhale, finally coming back to your senses, though your hand is still shaking in minghao’s grip. “y-yeah. the… drawer…” you manage to lift your other hand to point across the kitchen. you swallow thickly, trying to ground yourself and calm down. for some reason you feel positive he can hear your heart pounding in your throat. “there’s a box. by the silverware.”
he moves away, but you vaguely register that he still hasn’t let go of your hand. his hand is freezing, his touch ice cold against your skin, and you feel yourself shiver. the overwhelming urge to sleep overtakes you, and you let your eyes fall closed for a moment while you wait for him.
when you open your eyes again, you’re not in the kitchen anymore. you swear your eyes were only closed for a split second, no longer than a single blink, but now you’re sitting on your couch with your finger tightly wrapped in a bandage.
minghao stands in front of you, watching you closely.  “are you okay?” he asks. his voice is clear again, as casual as can be, and you almost thing you've dreamed this whole situation up. it's a better explanation, at least, than acknowledging you embarrassing yourself in front of your hot colleague.
your head feels so heavy, and you lean against the back of the couch to relieve the ache in your neck. there's a chill in your body that wasn't there before, a tingling feeling that almost borders on pleasurable, but you force it away. 
you forgot he'd even asked you a question until he lets out a sigh, running his fingers through his long hair to flip it out of his face. “i told you it's not safe to be around here at night alone.”
you frown in confusion, your head still feeling woozy. “it's only a papercut, minghao. and i'm fine, i'm not alone. there's a perfectly good doctor standing in my house right now.”
he clicks his teeth at your response, though you can't figure out what you'd said wrong. “you're a naive little thing, aren't you?” he exhales, tsking almost disapprovingly.
despite his tone, his words almost make you laugh, because suddenly everything makes sense. the shy meeting at the library, the encounter in the street, him offering to walk you home… this whole time, it's all been connected, and it took something as small as a papercut to figure it out. “are you hitting on me?”
he lets out a noise of surprise and starts to open his mouth, but you continue before he can say anything. “you could've just asked for my number, you know. i'm not taking classes at the university, so i don't think there's any rules against it.”
“trust me, i would really enjoy that; but no, that's not the reason i'm here.” he manages to get a word in, but you're not deterred. you can see it in the way he stands in front of you, eyeing you like the most delicious treat he's ever seen. you can't believe you didn't realize it sooner.
you hum, crossing your arms as you stare up at him from the couch. “but you do want to sleep with me.”
“i— maybe,” minghao huffs, but you swear you see a little bit of pink in his pale cheeks. he shifts on his feet, a timid expression on his face that seems unbefitting for a man who literally just stuck your bloodied finger in his mouth. “but—”
“aw, don't be shy.” you smile. “i won't bite. promise.”
that gets a laugh out of him. “but i might.”
“ooh, freaky.” you raise your eyebrows. you didn't strike him as the type to be into that, but maybe it's a doctor thing. and besides, who are you to judge? “are you, like, a vampire or something?”
you expect him to laugh again, but he seems unphased by your accusation, simply nodding like you'd just asked him his favorite food instead of whether or not he's a mythical undead creature. “yeah. does that frighten you?”
you shake your head, but you stop quickly when the motion makes you a little dizzy, though you can't comprehend why. “nah, i've seen worse. i had an ex-boyfriend that wanted to be my dog and let me walk him around my house on a leash, but…” you stop, realizing you're probably giving out too many details that minghao probably doesn't care about. “anyway, you already sucked on my finger, so it can't get any weirder than that. are you gonna bite my neck? because that's kinda hot.”
minghao's eyes widen, surprised by your offer, as if he's not the one who just claimed to be a vampire. he narrows his eyes and stays silent for a moment, listening for an inaudible sound. he must decide that you're being genuine, because he quickly relaxes, his lips turning up into a smile. “i… could. only if you want me to. if you'd let me.”
“i do want you to.”
he groans like that's the best idea he's ever heard in his life, and it makes you giggle. it's been too long since you've had somebody in your house who's this enthusiastic about roleplaying. maybe this is the change up you've needed in your life. it's perfectly fitting for the halloween season, too.
“are you sure?” he asks, and you suddenly realize his voice has dropped a few octaves lower. damn, he really is into this.
you pull yourself to your feet, still feeling a little lightheaded, but you're thinking clearly. you're sure of it. if you get in trouble with the university for fucking somebody who's technically your coworker, then so be it. 
“yeah. go on, bite me.”
in one swift motion minghao swoops in, pulling you closer and pressing his lips against yours. his hand wraps around your neck to keep you in place and he inhales sharply, his nails digging into your skin as he tightens his grip. any reservations you still had about him are gone the second you feel his teeth drag against your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth easily.
you whimper into his mouth as he kisses you, but a second later he pulls away and releases his hand from around your neck, leaving you gasping for breath. he moves again, casually settling himself down on the couch in the spot where you'd just been, and you watch his movements with wide eyes.
he seems refreshed just from the kiss, his eyes sparkling with a new kind of light. he pats his thigh, spreading his legs out wider as he gets comfortable. before he even says a word you feel drawn to him, immediately moving towards him as if being beckoned by an invisible force.
“come on, darling, sit. you want me to bite you?” he finally speaks up. he flashes a grin at you as you plant yourself on his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. you're expecting his body to be warm, but like when you shook his hand in the library, all you feel is cold. a shiver runs through you at the feeling, and you briefly consider getting up to turn the heater on first, but you're already melting into minghao's lap and it feels way too good to leave now when you're just getting started.
“such a pretty thing.” he brushes your hair off your neck and back behind your ear, sending another shiver down your spine at his freezing touch and his deep voice. “will you give me a little taste?” 
his tone makes you pause. you thought he'd have let up on the joke by now, but he seems completely serious to see this through. either he just really likes to roleplay, or…
thunder cracks outside, and you startle on his lap. but he just chuckles, his hand snaking around your waist to hold you tighter against him. “don't be afraid, now. the fear makes you taste so sour, and you're much too beautiful for that, my darling.” he lets out a hum, and your gaze is drawn to his eyes like a magnet. “you're safe with me. just relax and let yourself enjoy it. i promise you'll like it.”
he pauses to wait for your nod, and once you do he moves in closer, his long eyelashes fluttering as he flicks his gaze up to look at your eyes one more time. he goes completely still, inhaling like he's searching for something. but after a moment he seems satisfied with this position, and he settles his ice cold lips against the warmth of your neck.
“ready?” he murmurs against your skin, and his breath makes your skin erupt with goosebumps. it's strangely reminiscent of a chilly gust of wind, the same cold wind blowing outside your house tonight.
you nod again, suddenly feeling shy. his name is on the tip of your tongue, but it instantly dies in your throat before any sound leaves your lips, and you feel his teeth sink into your neck. you choke out a gasp, whimpering at the split second of pain that blooms under your skin but bleeds into pleasure almost as quickly as it begins.
you let out a shaky exhale, struggling to catch your breath. every muscle in your body feels paralyzed. you squeeze your hand on minghao's shoulder, your nails digging into his back as hard as you can.
your lips are parted so beautifully in euphoria, minghao thinks, and yet you don't even realize it. of course you wouldn't. you don't understand how perfect you are, how perfect you are for him. he doesn't let up, plunging his teeth deeper into your neck as he revels at the flood of arousal in your veins that melts onto his tongue like candy.
you try to suppress a moan but it falls from your lips before you can think hard enough to stop it, your hips rolling against his lap. you've never felt a rush like this before in your life. you're addicted to it. every sensation is heightened, every nerve alight with ice cold fire.
you let out a whine and then moan again, grinding your hips down on him desperately. you can vaguely register the hard, thick bulge of his length between your legs but it's the last thing on your mind right now, so focused on chasing the high that's building inside you. you can taste colors and sounds and smells, almost overwhelmed with how sensitive everything is, yet it's the best feeling you've ever had.
he pulls back from you slowly and you whimper as you feel his fangs retract from your neck, leaving you with an even colder sensation that prickles on your skin. his tongue laps at the fresh wound, but your brain can't determine whether the dripping wetness on your skin is blood or saliva. 
“more,” you gasp out once you find your voice again, still panting in exhilaration. your head is full of pressure and you feel dizzy again, even more than earlier. you have to fight to keep your head upright instead of letting it fall against his chest, the weight almost unbearable, but nothing compared to how good your body feels right now.
“no more.” minghao shakes his head firmly. his mouth is stained with blood, the dark crimson red that's blotted over his plush lips making them seem even paler in contrast. he reaches one hand up to hold the back of your neck, and instantly you feel relief from the aching heaviness of your head. “that's enough for tonight. can't let you lose any more blood, sweetheart. but thank you for the snack.”
you exhale quietly as you try to breathe naturally again, but your hips never stop moving. minghao can hear the vibrations from your heart pounding as you grind down against his lap, and it only stirs him up further. it's been a long time since he's been this excited about something other than feeding. he almost can't remember the last time he'd felt the desire to be intimate, and that only makes you seem all the more exciting. it's not what he'd been expecting when he'd offered to follow you home tonight, but this outcome is much, much better.
you're quieter than he'd thought you would be. but then again, everyone reacts differently to him. some in horror, some in shock, some in fear, some in lust. you... well, it's clear you're enjoying it. but you're too quiet. he wants to hear your beautiful screams, the desperate way your breath catches in your throat as your lungs fill with air. he wants to hear the rush of blood in your veins, tinged sweet with your arousal like sticky melted sugar. more than anything he wants to drink you up, but he can't. even if he could, he won't. a beautiful thing like you, you're the kind of meal that someone like him waits centuries for, like a perfectly aged wine savored slowly over years instead of gulped down in one sitting. he's already had a taste of you, and he's perfectly content to wait centuries more for another bite. luckily, he's a very patient man.
but you don't have the benefit of centuries of patience like he does, and he can tell. this isn't enough for you. he can smell it, he can practically taste it in the air that you're not going to get off like this, at least not without taking more from you. and he's determined not to let his appetite get the best of him, not when you're so satisfying in so many other ways. 
“you know you can do better than that, angel,” he murmurs. the nickname burns his tongue, a sharp stinging pain as it leaves his icy lips, but he doesn't care. anything he has to go through to have any part of you, even the wrath of heaven itself, is well worth it to him. all you need is a little encouragement, and he's happy to provide.
you let out a whine, your eyes meeting his dark ones as you tentatively rest your hands on his shoulders once more. he feels firm beneath your grasp, although you don't know why you were expecting him not to be. the tingling feeling in your body is starting to wear off, and he doesn't feel real. there's a fog around everything right now, hazy like walking through a dream. or maybe a nightmare. it's too hard to tell right now. maybe you'll wake up in a few hours and look back on this and laugh. maybe you fell asleep at the library and never even made it home. the only thing you know for sure is that you're never covering another night shift for jun ever again after this. or, maybe you will. actually, maybe you'll offer to cover his shifts every night, if it gives you another chance to see minghao again.
“you're thinking too hard, darling,” minghao interrupts, though you haven't spoken out loud. “i can't do anything you won't like. can't hurt you, at least not tonight. but you're too sweet to waste, anyway. i wouldn't dare spoil you.” he hums, tilting his head downward to look at you through his lashes, his eyes boring into you so intensely that you feel it in the deepest parts of your soul. 
“then, what are you going to do?” you manage breathlessly, meeting his gaze. you're so eager for more, and you're not even trying to hide it anymore. you don't think you could hide it no matter how hard you tried.
minghao hums, brushing your hair back again with his slender fingers. “mm, how about you show me where your bedroom is first, darling? then i'll tell you.”
but before you can answer he stands up and scoops you up into his arms. it seems like only a second passes before he reaches your room, depositing you on your bed with a cold gust of air.
you can't see him in the darkness, and you almost start to call out for him nervously. you've grown used to the familiar coldness of his body, and the room feels emptier without his touch. but as soon as the thought crosses your mind, the candles on your windowsill suddenly flicker to life, crackling with a small burst of flame.
“better?” minghao murmurs, appearing beside you at the edge of the bed. his figure seems to melt into the darkness, barely visible at the edges of your vision, but you know he's there.
“would be even better if you'd touch me already,” you reply, and that earns you a smirk from him.
“forgive me for giving you a chance to change your mind.” minghao huffs and rolls his eyes a little. eager may have been an understatement. 
you whine impatiently and reach out for him, but he cuts you off before you can protest. his voice grows serious, the same sharp tone he used earlier that registers so clearly in your mind. “you're allowed to say no. i'm not using any tricks on you to make you obey me. if you want to stop, then i will.”
something about his voice feels genuine, and you know he's telling the truth. “okay,” you hum softly, trying to match his serious tone. “but i'm saying yes.”
he exhales almost in exasperation, but he's smiling as he leans down over the bed to capture your lips again. his mouth is cold, but this time you're expecting it and it doesn't catch you so off guard.
you're getting used to the feeling of kissing minghao. he tastes better than anyone you've ever kissed, and it's quite easy once your brain manages to get past the initial mental barrier of holy shit you're kissing a vampire and he's really good at it.
one of his hands finds its way down your pants, and instinctively you bite down on his lip in surprise at the sudden icy sensation rubbing between your folds. but that only makes him groan and press his fingers harder against you, moving up to trace circles around your clit.
you whimper into his mouth, your hips simultaneously bucking towards him and away from him as he sinks a finger inside. the cold feeling is such a new sensation, and you clench down automatically around him.
but despite the coldness of his touch, your cheeks are burning hot, and it's getting harder and harder to catch your breath. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down closer to you, the front of his body pressed against yours, and he slides in another finger.
he almost can't believe you're real. this close to you he can hear your heartbeat thumping and he knows you're alive, the saccharine-sweet scent of your blood coursing through your veins serving only as a reminder of his own mortality. you're everything he's not: warm and alive and full of emotion, but that only makes him want you more.
the wind has picked up again, drowning out the sounds of your moans as the trees outside thud their branches against the side of the house. it only takes another moment for you to reach your peak, falling apart around him with a choked whimper. he slips his fingers halfway out before thrusting them back in, repeating the motion as he presses the heel of his palm against your clit for more stimulation.
his nostrils flare as your scent gets even more powerful, and he has to concentrate all his energy on keeping himself in check. he's never been more tempted to drink from someone in all his life. he can still taste your blood on his tongue from earlier, his mouth beginning to water at the memory, and in the back of his mind he wonders if you can taste it, too. if you were that good before, then he can only imagine how you'd taste now, with the added syrup of your arousal. you're like an ambrosia he can never have, the sweetest nectar he's ever had the pleasure of sampling. 
his resolve is crumbling, but he promised he wouldn't drink any more. it would hurt you, and it would pain him even more than it would you. if he says anything then you'd only plead for him to do more, lost in the aphrodisiac of his venom and unable to tell your own limits, so he keeps his thoughts to himself and just kisses you harder, swallowing your moans instead of your blood. maybe if he's lucky he'll get another chance to have you another day, once you've had time to rest and recover. if you're willing, he could keep this up for a while. you could be his. forever. 
your thoughts are fuzzy when he pulls away from you, keeping his fingers buried inside for a moment longer before slipping out. the candles’ flames dance wildly, casting long shadows across your walls as minghao seems to shimmer in the air beside you.
“wait,” you call out for him weakly, still catching your breath as you come down. “please.”
minghao hums, his figure solidifying on the bed above you. he slides his fingers into his mouth, slowly licking your wetness off of them with a groan before he moves to unbutton his shirt.
“oh, i'm not going anywhere.”
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! i'm pretty new to writing non-human characters so feedback would be super appreciated, i hope you liked it <3 thanks for reading!!
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heyaheiya · 2 months ago
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Katsuki quickly visiting you before your concert. You’re getting your makeup done, glitter and rhinestones carefully adorned your eyes. The entire backstage area was covered in a variety of wires and whatnot. Katsuki kept getting yelled at by your manager for wandering around without permission.
“You’ve gotta have a backstage pass to be here, Dynamight.”
“Oh come on, it’s just me!”
“Rules are ru-“
“Tsuki!”
Katsuki’s head whipped around at the sound of your voice so fast, he swore his neck cracked. He immediately lost his breath. Of course he always thought you were stunning, but in your concert getup; he couldn’t get his eyes off of you. He immediately hold you close and peppers your head with kisses, lightly enough to not mess up your stylists’ hard work.
“I like you dressed like this.”
Frilly outfits that sparkled underneath the stage lights, and a face that could stop wars with its beauty.
“You better, I’ve been here since 4am.”
He would’ve never known with the way you were bouncing around. Idols were truly supernatural.
“Dynamight, if you don’t have a ticket, we’re gonna have to escort you out.”
Your manager only ever enforced the rules like this for Katsuki. If it were anyone else, they’d be offering a bunch of free things and discounts. Katsuki gets to pay an extra ‘Boyfriend Fee’.
“ITS MY GIRLFRIEND, ILL DO WHAT I WANT!”
A group of bodyguards were forced to escort him out the building. Not before he kissed the hell out of you, smudging your lips a little bit.
The footage of the concert started trending the next day. Your visibly kissed lips and an angry Dynamight seen outside the venue with a massive pile of concert merch. Truly ‘Japan’s best Couple’.
— — — — — — — — —
I love idol reader x Katsuki :D im imagining yn dressed like rei from ive. Yk with the pigtails and sparky dress
Side note: I went to ive’s concert a few months ago and I fell in love with them all over again <3
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bitchlessdino · 2 months ago
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boo-ty call 👻 (m)
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Pairing: perverted ghost!jeonghan x cute neighbor!seungkwan x afab!reader Genre: supernatural comedy, smut Word count: 11.1k tags: a lot of puns, human body possession (con and dubcon), threesome by definition if you count a ghost, mention of food, cunnilingus, some degrading (slut), light spanking, unprotected sex Summary: As far as unwanted roommates go, your ghostly companion was one you never anticipated. But when this specter began to assert himself and meddle in your dating life—or lack thereof—you started to reconsider your stance; maybe having a roommate wasn’t so bad after all. Especially if he's helping you get laid. author note: it's sluttober! when did i last write anything and have it posted. that's crazy sorry about that yall, but i'm really trying my best to be more active, but ngl its hard. life really gets in the way and we have to remind ourselves to take a back sometimes, even from our hobbies. Thank you to @multi-kpop-fanfics and @seokgyuu for beta reading and helping me perfect this masterpiece and thank you to you guys for your patience. Enjoy! Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone
You should’ve known better than to find an apartment listing in the same place where people get lied to about the types of dogs they’re buying. To this day, your aunt is convinced her Chorkie is supposed to be pure Maltese.
Meanwhile, you’re about 99.999% sure your apartment is haunted, and whatever ghost this was, they really liked stealing your underwear. It should’ve scared you. It should’ve driven you away and rushed you out to find a newer, less haunted place to live. But it was cheap, fully furnished, and came with a walkable laundromat and a family-owned market with homegrown tomatoes. Nothing could beat that.
You could tolerate it. It was better than mooching off your parents, who ask every five minutes when you’ll get a 'real' job. Living away from your parents was necessary for your sanity and a dead pervert is much preferable to a live one.
“Can you fucking stop leaving the bathroom light on? I get that haunting is your job and all, but you’re not the one paying the electricity bill.”
If anyone could see you talking to thin air right now, they would’ve had you committed.
“And while we’re at it, could you stop stealing the lacy underwear? They’re gifts, and I don’t wear them, but I might someday, so leave me the option!”
The hallway light flickered before it finally stopped and swift air breezed past you in response, but no returning underwear. You let out a frustrated sigh and shove the rest of your dirty clothes into the hamper before proceeding with laundry day. 
You’ve never seen any part of them, yet you’re always aware of their presence. It was creepy at first, but that quickly turned into annoyance when you realized how limited their grasp on the living world truly was—just a bit of theft and light tinkering. It was manageable, but you still felt uneasy knowing you couldn’t change without feeling watched.
“I’ll be back. Don’t piss me off more when I do. It is not my week.”
Not a day had passed since you two became acquainted that he didn’t find some way to bother you, but there were definite perks to living in hell’s best apartment lease. As your feet scraped across the tiled floor, the afternoon sun briefly flushed your skin, and a familiar flutter stirred in your chest as the thought of something popped into your head. Instead of the usual contempt, longing filled your chest as you made your way to the machine.
“What do we have today, m’dear?”
Your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, and you pretended to nonchalantly turn around, as if you hadn’t just spent several minutes hoping for his appearance. “Oh, you know, the usual—interview clothes, some sweatpants, and a few coffee-stained rags.”
Seungkwan’s lips curled into a soft chuckle, his laugh warm as he tossed his own laundry into the machine beside yours. “Sounds spicy. Mrs. Whirlpool is in for a gourmet meal today.”
He said the weirdest, most ridiculous things, but the real mystery was how you still ended up wanting to kiss him anyway. There was something about his easy smile, the effortless way he tossed his dress shirt into the machine like it was some kind of party trick.
He had a knack for brightening the atmosphere as if he possessed a magnetic otherworldly charm. Whenever you arrived, you couldn't help but wish he would be there, transforming the ordinary task of laundry into an intimate little affair—just the two of you amidst a heap of dirty clothes.
You observed him from the side, noting that his stack of clothes was noticeably smaller than usual. This made you question why he would wash such a small load. “Today isn't your regular laundry day. It’s usually Fridays and Mondays, isn't it? Today’s Thursday.”
The second the words left your mouth, you cringed internally. Great. Way to sound like a total stalker. Creep much?
Seungkwan cocked a smile. “I’m flattered you’ve memorized my laundry schedule.”
You laughed awkwardly, scrambling for cover. “I pass by here and just happen to have a really great memory.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, this might sound kind of gross and embarrassing, but I found these abandoned at the back of my closet. They’ve been there forever, and I had some extra change, so I figured, why not? You know, especially since I’ll be gone at the end of October.”
“You’ll be gone for Halloween?” Well, don’t sound too disappointed.
“Yeah,” Seungkwan said with a soft chuckle, glancing your way. “Family traditions. Can’t miss them. You know, the usual—handing out candy, our neighborhood haunted house contest, all that.”
“That sounds like so much fun. Way better than my Halloween growing up.” 
“Aw, thanks, but trust me, it’s way more chaotic than it sounds. Kids screaming, neighbors going overboard with decorations—it’s a lot." He shrugged as he folded his laundry, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his tone. “What about you? Got any plans?”
“Um… I’m not sure yet. Still figuring it out, I guess,” you answered earnestly, suddenly feeling like a loser with no plans–which you were by definition.
Seungkwan hesitated, his hands stilling mid-fold, the fabric dangling loosely between his fingers. You could see something flickering in his eyes—a jumble of thoughts swirling in his mind like a muddled cloud, visible in the furrow of his brow. “Oh. Well, um…” His voice trailed off, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as if he were battling whether or not to say what was really on his mind.
"What?" Your curiosity spiked, your heart quickening as you waited for him to continue. For a moment, the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, stretching the already lingering silence.
He quickly shook his head, offering a faint, almost apologetic smile before turning back to his laundry, his hands moving again, but less sure than before. “Nothing. Just—never mind.”
“Oh, okay.” The disappointment weighed on you, heavier than you wanted to admit. You glanced at the washing machines, trying to focus on the steady hum of the cycles, but your eyes kept drifting back to the numbers, slowly counting the seconds until the minutes ticked over, all while the silence between you grew louder.
You finished your load long before Seungkwan could wrap up his, the awkward tension of unfinished business hanging in the air like a thick fog. You glanced at him, hesitating for a moment before mustering a tight smile, trying to shake off the discomfort. “Well, that’s it for me. See you around, Seungkwan.”
He looked up from his laundry, the corners of his lips tugging down slightly. "See you, neighbor," he said, his tone laced with a hint of regret. The moment lingered in the air between you, thick with unspoken words, making it even harder to walk away.
With one last glance at his face, you stepped back, the soft chime of the door ringing behind you as you passed their glass doors.
As you walked  back toward your apartment, you couldn’t help but drop in confidence, thinking to yourself that maybe you didn’t deserve good things like cute laundromat boy. The hallway felt more confining than usual, the walls seeming to close in, echoing the insecure thoughts making rounds in your head.
You leaned against the cheaply painted walls of your cramped apartment, sliding down to sit on the floor with your head in your hands. It was just a childish crush—fleeting and meaningless—yet the thought of him going away scared you more than any real-life danger you'd ever faced. He was the only upside to moving to this part of town, the one thing that made the mundane feel even remotely worthwhile.
As you sat on the vinyl floor, you could still picture the sparkle in his eyes when he first opened those double doors, the warmth of his voice as he introduced himself. What had once been just laundry had turned into something to look forward to, a small break from the routine and a chance to brighten up your day in this sparse town. 
Maybe, if you were lucky, it could turn into a little small-town romance. But now, you couldn’t help but wonder if he even saw you beyond the casual pleasantries. Did he just see you as another neighbor, or maybe just a friendly face? 
The familiar flickering light in the kitchen pulled you back to the reality and up from the ground of your haunted apartment. With a frustrated sigh, you turned your attention to your unwanted roommate. “Yeah, yeah, I’m home,” you muttered, trying to shake off the feeling of melancholy.
As you walked toward the living room, the flickering lightbulbs in the lamps followed your path, their erratic dance a reminder of the presence that lingered in your space. Maybe getting rid of them wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. It could be a way to finally cut ties with the ghost that seemed determined to remind you of your solitude. You chuckled softly at the thought. Perhaps an exorcism could clear out both the ghost and all the pointless overthinking.
But that was a problem for another day. Rotting in bed sounded far more appealing right now. You shuffled into your room, the soft glow from the streetlamp spilling in through the window, casting faint shadows on the walls as the evening deepened. The coolness of the night crept in slowly, the faint hum of the city blending into the background.
As you sank into the familiar embrace of your blankets, the exhaustion in your limbs finally settled, but your mind lingered for a moment longer. You glanced outside, the dim light catching in the leaves of the trees below, and for a fleeting second were at peace. No ghosts, no old washers or dryers, no obsessive crush. Just sleep.
You sighed, pulling the covers tighter around you, letting the hum of old furnishing–and probably the old pervert ghost–as you drifted off into sleep.
Your rest was cut short by a full bladder, ready to burst. With heavy eyelids, you stumbled toward the bathroom, barely aware of your surroundings. As you relieved yourself, everything felt normal—the creaking of the bathroom door, the sporadic running of the faucet, and the occasional flickering of the lights above, indicating his restless presence.
You groaned, rubbing your eyes with your fists. “This wasn’t an invitation, Casper,” you muttered, irritation creeping into your voice.
As if to taunt you, the faucet suddenly turned on full blast, running wildly before shutting off completely, leaving you with nothing but the simmering annoyance bubbling inside of you. With a frustrated huff, you quickly flushed the toilet and turned to the mirror. The lone reflection staring back at you looked as tired as you felt.
With dark circles under your eyes and a complexion that could only be described as dull, it was starting to feel like you were one bad hair day away from getting "gave up" tattooed across your forehead. And suddenly you were wondering whether you looked more dead than the ghost.
Instead of wallowing more self-pity, you washed your hands under the running faucet. If the ghost wanted to bother you, it certainly wasn’t going to be about your hygiene. You kept that on lock.
You glanced back at the mirror and no longer were you alone. Instead, where your reflection should have been was the unsettling visage of your ghost, staring back at you with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. His pale features were striking, almost ethereal, with an undeniable charm that twisted your gut. Those mischievous eyes sparkled with a playful malevolence.
Your ghost was attractive–strikingly so–and for some reason that made you dislike him even more.
You shot your shared reflection an unamused smile. “Was that supposed to scare me?”
His reflection chuckled, leaning over his sink to give you an unfiltered view of every extraordinary detail etched into his face like a sculpture. “What? I thought I could finally introduce myself.”
“After months of me already living here? I feel the moment has passed,” you shot back, crossing your arms in defiance.
“Well, I had to pass my own judgment, didn't I? Do you know how many coke-huffing, cheese puff-grubbing, athlete-foot-walking slobs I’ve encountered in my place of residence?” He leaned closer, his expression mockingly serious, the flickering light casting playful shadows across his sharp cheekbones.
“May I remind you that those people were renters? If they paid to be there, who were you to deny them that?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Like I didn’t pay when I was alive? Plus, Muriel definitely wasn’t paying, nor was Monty. They were beyond sketchy.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, clearly relishing the chance to air his grievances from beyond the grave. “Now that I think about it, there was definitely some laundry going on around here—and I’m not just talking about your underwear strewn all over the place.”
“Thanks for the reminder. Would you please leave the undergarments alone?” you replied, trying to keep the irritation from creeping into your voice as if you didn’t sound crazy enough talking into a mirror.
He shrugged nonchalantly, the flickering light casting shadows across his smirking face. “I will once you learn to toss them in the hamper like a normal humie. Upside to being dead: no laundry.”
“I don’t have to take this from someone who can’t even wear underwear anymore.”
“So you assumed I died without any on? How morbidly perverted of you.” His playful smile widened.
You scoffed, incredulous at the absurdity of the conversation you were having—with a ghost of all people.
“You know I’m right…I could sense your heart racing the moment you laid eyes on me,” he teased, a playful grin dancing across his lips as his jaw hung slightly slack in intrigue. His gaze swept over you, lingering on the way your breath caught in your throat, as if he were drinking in every detail, alive in the way his eyes glowed with mischief despite their soulless depths.
His ghostly figure was lean and toned, the contours of his form faintly visible like a lingering shadow, brimming with an energy that felt both alluring and infuriating. The flickering light cast an ethereal glow around him, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaws and the way his seemingly wet hair fell carelessly over his forehead. He leaned closer, the air thickening with a mix of annoyance and something dangerously enticing as if he relished the effect he had on you.
“Are you…flirting with me?” You couldn’t believe you had to ask, but the glint in his eye was undeniable.
“It’s not illegal. Not in the afterlife, anyway. Anything goes here.” He leaned back against the sink, bloodless veins pulsing against his forearms, enjoying the encounter more than he should.
“I…need sleep.” 
You peeled yourself away from the mirror, shaking your head in disbelief, and headed to bed without looking back. You slipped through the sheets, found comfort in their familiarity, and sighed, thinking you escaped.
“You know—”
“Jesus!” you burst out, your heart racing as you instinctively clutched your chest. Opening your eyes, you found the ghost looming above you, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. “What now?”
“Walking to a different room isn’t exactly a proper goodnight,” he said, crossing his arms over his spectral chest as if he were the arbiter of etiquette in the afterlife. His expression was mock-serious, and the playful glint in his eyes suggested he found the whole situation amusing.
“As if ghosts even sleep?” you shot back, rolling your eyes.
“No, but it’s polite,” he replied, feigning indignation, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a barely contained grin.
“Is this going to keep happening? You annoy me until I scrape together enough money to move out, or, if I’m not fortunate, end up penniless and homeless,” you lamented, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you threw your hands up in frustration.
“You tell me.”
With a sigh, you shut your eyes again and threw the blanket over your head, seeking refuge. “At least save it for the morning.”
And the ghost did just that—he saved all of it for the morning, better yet the afternoon. Since that’s when you woke up anyways.
“Do people always eat breakfast past two p.m., or is that a recent trend from the last two decades?” his voice called, cutting through the haze of your half-sleep as you started to eat 
“How old are you even?” you mumbled, cereal gnashing between your teeth.
“Old enough to know that you need more than cereal to sustain a healthy human body.”
“Riveting,” you muttered sarcastically, sipping the milk from the bowl. “Next, you’ll tell me that ‘ghosting’ is a real thing in your realm, too.”
“Actually, it is,” he retorts, his presence somehow stronger than it was in front of a mirror, “Happen to be doing it right now. Having some fun.”
“Is that your idea of fun? Stalking me from beyond the grave?”
“Call it what you want, but I’m just trying to keep you company,” he replied, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping from a spoon. “Besides, who else is going to breathe some life into your dull existence other than someone who’s already checked out of theirs?”
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms with a playful huff. “Great. Just what I need—my own ghostly life coach. What’s next? A seminar on the benefits of double-scrubbing the bathtub?
It was meaningless stuff, really. The kind of chatter that filled the air like background noise, a gentle distraction from the world outside your walls. Yet, for someone who was supposed to be dead, he had an uncanny knack for conversation, it only made you assume the type of person he was alive. He could turn the mundane into clear images, painting vivid pictures with his stories about the afterlife—or, more accurately, his gripes about it. Not that you asked for it, but, it was like being told a grand story. Stories you could not for the life of you stop listening to for some reason.
“Okay, ghostie—”
“Jeonghan,” he corrected. “Say it with me slowly. Jeong. Han.”
“Mmh, ghostie! I’ll be back after the laundry is done.”
“No way you’re saving money with how often you—”
“Bye bye, poltergeist!” You cut him off with a wave, stepping out with a load full of laundry.
You had noticed how quickly the days were slipping by, how time seemed to blur when you shared your space with someone—or rather, something—that could actually respond to you in real-time. It was a strange kind of companionship, one that made you forget just how much solitude had weighed on you before.
The passing days also reminded you just how much you needed a breather, to clear your head from this bizarre living arrangement. And somehow, your laundry had piled up, more than it ever should have for someone unemployed who barely left the house. It was odd. Almost like time itself was moving faster, dragging the mess along with it.
“Hey, right on schedule—Thursdays and every other Monday and today’s Monday..”
You almost forgot about Seungkwan amidst all the supernatural nonsense swirling around you, but seeing him brought back memories of your last encounter, and you quickly put on a smile. “Hey there! Look at you, recognizing my laundry schedule too.”
“Thought I’d return the favor since you were kind enough to remember mine. Hope that’s okay,” he replied, his tone light.
You piled your laundry into the machine, carefully measuring out some freshly opened detergent. “It is.”
“Okay… I just want to apologize for being weird the last time we talked,” he said, shifting slightly as he leaned against the machine, his expression turning a bit more serious. 
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you assured him.
“I just… I don’t know.” He glanced down at the floor, his brows furrowing slightly. “My mind went blank, if I’m being honest.”
You smiled reassuringly. “I get that. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”
He looked up, a playful grin spreading across his face. “So you think I’m pretty?”
Fuck. “It’s… just an expression.”
He leaned against his machine, his gaze fixed on you. “Didn’t deny it, though.”
You chuckled, feigning exasperation and mirroring his posture against your own machine. “You’re a lot more cocky than I realized, Mr. Seungkwan.”
“Do you like that?”
The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were left speechless. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as your thoughts bounced from one corner of your mind to the other until finally, they found themselves running down between your legs in a new form of discomfort. “Umm…” 
You turned away for a moment, breathing to steady yourself, gently patting away your very alive heart.
“I made it weird again, didn’t I?” he said, his voice laced with a hint of regret.
You spun back around, shaking your head. “No. No! It just took me by surprise.”
“Sorry about that.” Not sounding all that sorry.
“That’s…more than I’m used to,” you admitted, a slight heat creeping onto your cheeks.
“Thank you?” he replied, a grin tugging at his lips.
You let out a soft laugh, the sound brightening the air between you and making the moment feel lighter and more vibrant. Just then, the machine beeped, a sharp sound signaling that your clothes were done, pulling you away from the heated exchange.
A comfortable silence enveloped you both, but this time it felt different—like the crackling of kindling in the perfect moment when fireflies come out, illuminating the night as brightly as the stars in the sky. You exchanged a quiet glance, catching a glint reminiscent of those stars in his gaze, and for a second, it felt like the universe was telling you, ‘Hey, maybe there's something here.’
When you finally turned to leave, your smile was the biggest you’d ever had. And when he matched yours, it was like you had just won a bizarre lottery. You probably looked a bit unhinged, standing there grinning at nothing while swaying in the damp weather, but you didn’t care. The butterflies in your stomach danced happily, and you found yourself wishing you could hold on to this moment just a little longer, savoring the warmth it brought.
“You look happy.”
Not even the Ghostbusters’ final boss could ruin that for you.
“Cram it, Beetlejuice Lite,” you shot back, because although you’re in a good mood, you relished finding new names to call Jeonghan besides his own.
You hummed to yourself as you folded and neatly put away your clothes, feeling his cool, lingering presence behind you. He watched, like always—probably thinking up who put sugar in your cereal this morning for you to be in such an uppity mood.
“Well, I’ll be. You’re actually putting your clothes away like a functional human being?” His voice oozed mock surprise, but today, it just rolled right off you.
“Yep! Just felt like it,” you replied cheerfully, sliding the last of the shirts into your drawer with a satisfied nod.
“Strange. I thought laundry was your natural habitat now, seeing how often you’re in there… but I guess that’s thanks to a certain ‘living,’” 
You snapped your drawer shut, the sound echoing through the room as you whipped around to glare at him, immediately pulling you away from the happiness you felt not that long ago. “You—”
“Seungkwan, wasn’t it? Cute kid. Didn’t quite peg him as your type, though.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
Your eyes narrowed, heart doing an involuntary somersault. Of course, he’d noticed. He seemed to notice everything, like some twisted version of a nosy neighbor, only this one didn’t have the decency to keep his opinions to himself. You wanted to fire back, but your brain was moving a step too slow, still caught up on the casual way he dropped Seungkwan's name. How long had he been watching you both at the laundromat?
“You’re stalking me outside of the apartment now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“My spirit may be bound to this place,” he replied with an air of nonchalance, “but my soul can roam as it pleases.”
“Spirit? Soul? Aren’t they the same thing?”
He tilted his head, giving you a patronizing smile. “Not quite. My soul travels freely, observing everything within a reasonable distance—it’s not tethered to the apartment like my spirit is. My spirit stays here, out of my control.”
“So, you spied on me just because you could?”
"Call it research. Gathering intel." He shrugged. "Besides, it's not like you were doing anything interesting."
"Oh, I'm so glad I could provide you with such riveting entertainment.”
You shook your head, leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind you, only to have Jeonghan pass through it. "You know, for a ghost, you're surprisingly annoying."
"For a flesh-and-blood mortal, you're remarkably unfazed," he observes, his ethereal voice echoing slightly. "Most wouldn't last a day with my...unique brand of housekeeping."
You paused, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, well, I'm not most people."
“So,” he began, “about this Seungkwan guy…”
You stiffened, feeling your cheeks heat up. “What about him?”
“Just curious,” he replied casually, though there was a glint in his eyes. “He seems... nice.”
“He is,” you mumbled, suddenly finding your laundry far more interesting than the conversation again.
“And you like him?”
Your heart raced in your chest. “I don’t know,” you admitted, the words almost sticking in your throat. “Maybe.”
“Does he like you?”
You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “…I don’t know yet.”
There was a beat of silence before he offered, “Want some help with that?”
“No. What? How would you even do that?” You narrowed your eyes, already regretting entertaining this conversation.
He started circling you, wearing a grin that screamed trouble, like a cat ready to pounce. “The only time my soul and spirit are truly joined,” he began in a low, conspiratorial tone, “is when I possess a body and take control of their flesh.”
You rolled your eyes. “Where is this going, Bloody Maury? Skip to the part that makes sense.”
He stopped directly in front of you, arms crossed. “Well, if you’re interested in ‘skipping to the good parts,’ I could possess your body. Help you say what’ll win over Seungkwan in no time.”
You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why in the hell would I be dumb enough to let you do that?”
He snickered, leaning in with a smug look. “Because you’re desperate and haven’t slept with anyone the entire time we’ve lived together.”
“…You talk too much.”
“Think about it,” he continued, unbothered by your glare. “You’ve already got a foot in the door with him. You just need a little boost. I can help.”
You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “This sounds like some high-level scheme to take over my body. Then I’ll end up stuck sharing it with a ghost, screaming into the depths of my soul for eternity. Thanks, but no thanks.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve been watching too much supernatural TV. And besides, if I wanted to possess your body for good, I would’ve done it a long time ago. I do have some principles, you know. Consent and all.”
You shook your head, unimpressed. “Nope. I still can’t trust you, ghostie.”
Jeonghan, ever the persistent undead, didn’t know the meaning of giving up—and by now, you should’ve expected as much. And maybe, just maybe, his constant, incessant persuading was starting to wear you down. Sharing the same space day in and day out gave him the upper hand. He knew your quirks, your weak spots—the best and worst parts of you.
These past few days, you weren’t sure if you were going insane by agreeing with a ghost, or if he was actually starting to make some sense.
As you stared off at him, basking in the cool autumn air slipping through the balcony, you started to wonder if his intentions were not as venomous or malicious as you initially thought. There was a strange, quiet sadness in his eyes as if he longed for something he couldn’t put into words. Something that you couldn’t understand even if you tried.
“Am I really so pathetic that the ‘phantom reject’ is willing to help me with my love life?”
Jeonghan glanced at you with mild interest, noticing the way your curiosity had piqued. You sat comfortably on the couch, your elbow propped on the armrest, cheek nestled in your palm, as you observed him. He quietly approached, given that his feet were intangible and didn’t reach the ground, the silence was deafening and he lowered his head to level with you, staring back at you with so much intent it burned to feel his gaze.
He titled his head, brimming with pride. “Well, let’s just say I’ve never been rejected in my life. So.”
“You really think this’ll work for me?”you asked, skepticism lacing your tone.
“Of course,” he replied, with a grin. “You’ve got me.”
You were really considering it—letting a ghost help with your love life. Was this truly insane? Maybe. But it felt like it was worth a shot.
God, this was pathetic. And for once, you had something to be genuinely afraid of. And funny enough, it wasn’t possession. Until, well… maybe it was.
Life had never quite prepared you for this. Standing in your bedroom, surrounded by the overflowing pile of dirty clothes in the corner, you realized you’d put this off long enough—both the laundry and the body possession. You let out a shaky breath, glancing nervously from the mess to Jeonghan. 
His presence loomed, just as insistent as the neglected chores, and you had to steady yourself, mentally sorting through how you’d ended up in this bizarre situation. Laundry? Fine. Ghost possession? Not something you thought was possible. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to assess the ridiculousness of it all.
“Okay, Grim Peeper, let’s do this.”
Jeonghan chuckled softly as you tried, and failed, to shake off the nerves. His movements were deliberate as he approached, eyes narrowing in focus. He watched how the tension gripped your shoulders, the way your breath quickened despite your best efforts to stay calm. His presence felt heavier, and as he took his position in front of you, the air around him seemed to still. 
You could feel the weight of what was about to happen, the looming absurdity of it all. Jeonghan, who usually exuded a kind of careless charm, now looked oddly concentrated, as if he were preparing for something he rarely had the chance to do. His expression, though still smug, carried a certain gravity. But in all honesty, he wasn’t really sure what to expect.
“I’m about to make contact,” Jeonghan said, his tone unusually serious. “It’s going to feel a bit disorienting at first—like a cold shiver running down your spine. But after a few seconds, your mind will adjust, and it’ll feel like nothing ever happened. My voice will echo in your head, almost like it’s your own thoughts. I’ll let you know when it’s me taking control.”
His hands hovered over your shoulders, a ghostly chill brushing against your skin. For a split second, there was something oddly reassuring in his dead, sullen eyes. "You'll be okay. I promise, nothing will go wrong."
You sighed, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down. "Alright, I trust you." Then you glanced at him, a small smirk forming. "But seriously, what do you get out of all this? Helping me, I mean. I won’t judge... Boo-dini."
He let out a short laugh, tilting his head slightly as if considering how to answer. “I…want to remember what it’s like to feel alive again. See what I missed out on.”
“That’s fair,” you nodded, understandably.
“Expected more from me, humie?”
You shrugged. “Thought you’d have a deeper back story, but that’s fine.”
Jeonghan scoffed softly, giving you a teasing smirk before he began. In an instant, he was there—and then he wasn’t. The shift was so sudden it left you reeling. Just as he’d predicted, a shiver rippled down your spine, cold and unsettling. But what he hadn’t mentioned were the flashes of unfamiliar images that flickered behind your eyes, moments you’d never lived but somehow felt were real.
They came and went so fast, you couldn’t make sense of them—fleeting fragments of his past, perhaps, or echoes of something even older.
‘How are you?’ he voice said, interrupting your thoughts.
You quietly nodded, reassuring him.
‘Very well then. Your lead, dear host.’
You wandered into the laundromat with your overstuffed hamper, feeling a bit like a laundry pirate hauling treasure—or dirty socks—across the high seas. You’d made the executive–and rightfully cowardly–decision to skip your usual laundry day, and now it was leading up to this very moment. Jeonghan stayed mostly dormant in your body as you claimed an empty machine, the back of your head itchy knowing another being was sharing your body that has led you this far. And now it was going to lead you to get laid.
It was like clockwork. Any minute now, Seungkwan would stroll in, and Jeonghan would take over, handling all the nerve-wracking nonsense you'd rather avoid.
‘Don’t be nervous,’ his voice echoed, ‘I almost thought it was my own heart racing, then I remembered I’m dead.’
“Sorry,” you muttered softly under your breath, ignoring the supernatural’s attempt at a joke.
‘It’s fine. Everything will be fine.’
“I know,” you sighed.
“You know what?”
You spun around, facing Seungkwan, who’d entered with that casual, friendly energy you always admired. He smiled, raising an eyebrow at your startled expression.
"Seungkwan!" you blurted out, trying to push the embarrassment down as far as it would go.
“Hey, neighbor,” he greeted, already moving toward his machine, gently separating colors from whites. “How are you?”
“Good—Great! Why do you ask?”
He gave you a light shrug, glancing up with a playful grin. “Just sounded like you were talking to yourself.”
“Well, who doesn’t?” you quipped, trying to play it cool. “Sometimes thinking out loud helps clear the head noise, right?”
“Right,” he said, stretching with an amused smile, clearly entertained by your odd, jittery energy.
‘Wow, thank god you have me.’
You quietly cursed Jeonghan in your head for making this harder than it needed to be, before mustering up the nerve to approach Seungkwan, fingers nervously fidgeting.
"Hey, so... you mentioned you were going to be out of town for Halloween, right?"
Seungkwan looked up, surprised and then grinned. "You remembered! Yeah, what’s up?"
You hesitated for a second, feeling Jeonghan’s smug presence lingering somewhere in the back of your mind. "I thought..."
Seungkwan leaned casually against the now-humming washer, hands tucked in his pockets, his curious gaze fixed on you. "Yeah?"
You tried to keep your cool, but the moment the words "we could do something" left your mouth, your brain started to short-circuit. Seungkwan turned to you with that easygoing grin of his, waiting for you to elaborate, and you could already feel the awkwardness creeping in.
Jeonghan’s voice chimed in, ‘You’re fumbling. Let me take over.’
Before you could protest, the familiar shiver ran down your spine. Suddenly, everything felt distant—your limbs moved, but you weren't fully in control anymore.
Jeonghan’s smooth voice came out of your mouth as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I was thinking, maybe we could hang out before you head out of town? You know, catch a movie, grab a drink, something low-key, say my place?"
Seungkwan's smile widened, surprised but clearly intrigued. "You want to hang out with me?”
Jeonghan, still in control of your voice, replied effortlessly, "Of course." Before you could even process what was happening, your feet began to move on their own, gliding across the floor like a spy on a secret mission. Jeonghan closed the distance between you and Seungkwan, and suddenly, your hands were fidgeting with the hem of Seungkwan's shirt. “I figure it’s a good excuse to steal some of your time before Halloween hits."
Your heart raced, and you mentally screamed at Jeonghan, Okay, okay, that’s enough! I can take it from here!
But he was on a roll. "Tomorrow?" Seungkwan asked, leaning casually against the washing machine, though the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot betrayed his nervousness. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.
"Tomorrow’s perfect," Jeonghan responded smoothly, maintaining the effortless flow of the conversation. "I’ll text you the details."
With each word, your body felt like it was moving on autopilot, and while you were horrified by the lack of control, a part of you couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. Jeonghan was nailing it, but the closeness to Seungkwan was almost too much to handle.
Suddenly, Seungkwan playfully entwined his fingers with yours, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through your hand, as his grin graced his face. Your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, savoring the warmth of the connection. When you opened them, you found an unreadable expression on his face—intense and smoldering. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, his voice slightly softer now. “Looking forward to it.”
The way he held your gaze made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the world around you faded into a soft blur. Even though Jeonghan was in control, your thoughts tangled with the heat of the moment, coursing through you like a fever. 
As soon as Seungkwan turned away to his laundry with a lingering grin, Jeonghan released control, and the reins were back in your hands. You blinked, still a bit disoriented from the possession.
‘See? Easy,’ Jeonghan’s voice echoed smugly in your mind.
‘You’re impossible,’ you shot back.
‘But effective.’
That night, you tackled all the prep work you knew you needed to get done. It had been a while since you’d done anything like this, and you definitely had some dust bunnies and spiderwebs in your attic.
“Humie–oh.”
“Jeonghan! What the hell?” Your eyes flew open as you scrambled to pull the shower curtain over your bare legs, the chill of the water sending a shiver up your spine from the products strewn haphazardly at the edge of the sink. “Do you fucking mind?”
“Well, well. Look at you, all cleaned up. At least yourself, anyway. Can’t say the same for the bathroom floor—or that mountain of grooming products over there.”
You gripped your makeshift cover-up a little tighter, groaning in frustration. “Privacy, please! I barely have any as it is.”
“I’m just saying, I’m proud of you. Now, if you manage to sweep up after, I might even give you a round of applause.”
“Out!” you snapped, glaring.
He shrugged, turning to leave with an impish grin. “Hey, roommates catch each other with their pants down one way or another.”
If you weren’t already a bundle of nerves, Jeonghan was getting far too comfortable for your liking. Leading up to that night and the big day, he had been dishing out advice on everything from what to wear to what movie to play, right down to critiquing the meager food stock in your fridge.
“That’s it, you need to go grocery shopping.”
“I can't afford that right now!”
“Just get Instacart. I don’t care. This apartment is as bare-bones as it gets.”
“I have popcorn, soda, and some chocolate for Halloween when I'm giving them out.”
“First of all, popcorn isn’t actually food. Second, prebiotic soda doesn’t count as real soda. And if you can get chocolate, then you can definitely manage to buy some real groceries.”  
But just as you were about to respond, luck decided to abandon you with a sharp knock at the door. “No time!” you hissed, “now scr—oh, you’re already gone.”  
One moment he was there, and the next, he had vanished. Now, it was all on you, and nothing felt more nerve-wracking. You tugged your shorts down just enough to cover the rest of your bottom, anxiety buzzing in your chest. Your hand hovered over the doorknob as you took a deep breath, trying to muster some confidence before swinging it open to reveal who was waiting outside.
“Seungkwan, hey!”  
“Hey!” he grinned, his Halloween-themed vest adding a playful touch to his outfit as he juggled a couple of bags in his arms. “You didn’t ask, but I thought I’d surprise you with some food. Pumpkin-spiced spaghetti and meatballs.”  
“Oh, uhhh…”  
He burst into laughter, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just messing with you! It’s actually butternut squash gnocchi and some stuffed peppers that look like pumpkins.”  
“Oh, thank God! That sounds amazing.”  
“Yeah, it’s festive without going overboard.”  
You nodded in agreement, feeling a warm rush of relief. “Come in.”  
As you stepped aside to let him in, you couldn’t help but notice how wholesomely he was dressed compared to your casual attire. Suddenly, you felt a pang of self-consciousness.  
“I like your sweater,” you said, trying to mask your growing insecurity.  
He looked down, a hint of modesty crossing his face. “Yeah, I think it’s just the right amount of festive, but—”  
“It’s festive but not overboard,” you responded, playfully tossing his words right back at him.  
He grinned, “Exactly!”  
You smiled back, feeling a wave of warmth as Seungkwan's presence began to calm your nerves. As he settled into the familiar space of your apartment, you couldn’t help but discreetly scan the room for any signs of your ghoulish roommate. Half-relieved to find nothing, half-disappointed that your spectral “backup” was nowhere in sight, you let out a quiet sigh. And now it was just you—and the human you actually invited in.
Hesitantly, you eased into the spot next to him on the couch, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. Your hands were jittery as you picked up the remote, scrolling through the movies you’d lined up, your mind racing to figure out what to do next. 
You glanced at him, hoping for some sort of sign or direction, but the words caught in your throat. The longer you scrolled, the more painfully aware you became of the silence, as if it only heightened the nervous tension taking over your body, weirdly missing Jeonghan and how flawlessly he executed what he did yesterday.
"So, movies," you said, aiming the remote at the TV.
"Movies," he echoed, mimicking your tone.
“I mean,” You raised a brow. "What do you have in mind? And there is a right answer."
He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Alright, I love Halloween, but..."
"But?" you pressed, leaning in slightly.
"I... really can’t handle scary movies. Halloween Town is probably my limit."
"Halloween Town? The kids’ movie?"
"Hey, don’t knock it. They had great graphics!"
"They had awful graphics!" you shot back, incredulous.
He grinned, half-joking but clearly standing by his point. "Yeah, now. But for its time?”
You shook your head in playful disbelief, unable to hold back a smile. “You’re ridiculous. But fine, your choice.”
You were left with very few options. Seungkwan had suggested a few festive, family-friendly titles, but you managed to persuade him to consider a couple of mild thrillers—some stupid but perfectly on theme.
“The zombie version of Twilight? Seriously? Zombies?" he repeated, stressing the idea with disbelief.
You shrugged, smiling from his reaction. “You might like it.”
He dropped his head in defeat, cute little whines escaping his pursed lips. “Fine, but you’d better be my shield for this, okay, neighbor?” 
The movie began to play, the take-out boxes popped open, and your nerves were on high alert, vibrating like something else does on a normal Friday night for you. Except now, it was just you and the incredible realization that the man you're very much interested in was mere inches away. You were a fucking wreck.
Surprisingly, Seungkwan was genuinely enjoying the film, finding unexpected humor and charm in the cringeworthy blockbuster. His laughter was soothing and infectious, gradually easing your nerves until you started to feel normal again. Why were you like this?
Wait, you felt normal again, but what was normal?
Before you fully grasped what had happened in that fleeting moment of clarity, your hand made contact with Seungkwan, trailing lightly up his forearm. He immediately turned to face you, and your eyes locked, but suddenly they felt as if they belonged to someone else as if you were watching a different kind of film—a film where you were a separate character, experiencing everything from an alternate reality.
“Seungkwan,” your voice spoke, sounding foreign and distant as if someone else were taking control. Jeonghan? 
‘It was so painful to watch.’
Jeonghan guided your hand to brush against Seungkwan's ear, teasingly grazing the tip and relishing the warmth that bloomed between your fingers.
“Hey,” he replied, his nerves speaking for him. “Is something wrong?”
A low chuckle escaped from the depths of your throat, echoing Jeonghan’s playful menace. “You didn’t think we were just going to watch a movie, did you?”
Seungkwan audibly gulped, his eyes darting around as anxiety crept in. “We aren’t?”
“What’s the matter?” Jeonghan leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Seungkwan’s ear. “Where’s that confidence you had yesterday?”
Seungkwan suddenly tossed a pillow onto his lap, speechless and blushing fiercely. “Sorry,” he stammered, caught off guard. “I never anticipated—”
“Oh, really? You never expected to do something other than watching movies?” Your hand gently cupped his cheek, and you could feel Seungkwan melt into your touch with a gentle whimper.
A delighted sigh escaped you, fueled by Jeonghan’s newfound confidence coursing through your veins as your thumb traced the curve of Seungkwan’s Adam’s apple, feeling the rapid thrum of his pulse beneath your fingertips.
“You didn’t think for a second, I’d–you know–keep the night as is, did you?”
He softly groaned in his throat, feeling the tension seep inside him. “Are you suggesting?”
“I don’t want to just watch movies with you, Seungkwan. It’d be more fun to make our own. Isn’t that right?”
“...yes. God, yes.”
He leaned in, cradling your face in his hands, and pressed his lips to yours in a swift, hungry kiss, sending a surge of electricity through you as your tension unraveled in waves. His weight dipped against your body, pinning you against the rough tweed of the couch. His soft moans mingled with your breaths, muffled yet threatening, as if he were desperate to let loose and explore the desire in his heart while you were within reach.
‘That’s it.’
Your hand held the back of his head, catching strands between your fingers and tugged, ravaging his lips as if it’d be the last time you’d get a chance. You weren’t sure when Jeonghan gave you back your control, but in the heat of the moment, none of it mattered.
He tasted like a life force, fueling the fire burning in your loins and the fire kindling in your stomach; he had you wanting more with every passing second. His hands grabbed you recklessly, throwing his weight against you and squeezing your flesh until it was tender and malleable in his hands. This wasn’t something to unfold on the couch, you thought—not when a big, inviting bed lay just a few steps away, calling for you.
Your feet regained enough feeling to guide you off the couch, and before you knew it, you were stumbling toward your room, feverish and driven, with no thought of turning back. Your hands found his clothes, teasing beneath his holiday vest and up his torso, admiring the smooth flush of skin that graced your senses. He gasped, succumbing to your excitement and leaned into it, falling seamlessly into your rhythm.
“Didn’t want to stretch this, but,” he pulled the vest and shirt beneath over his head, tossing them aside in the corner. You let your hand linger longer on his body, running along the curve of his spine as he pulled you closer.
Seungkwan grasped your waist, savoring your lips with gentle strokes of his tongue before lifting you from the ground and onto the bed. Your bodies crushed against one another, peeling off articles of clothing one piece at a time until you were almost bare, expertly taking you apart to have you whole. All to himself as far as he knew.
“Seungkwan,” you called out in pleas, hands cradling the back of his neck as his hair fell over his eyes. “I want you so bad…”
“You’re telling me,” he managed to breathe out,  gripping your underwear at its hem and scrapping it over your hips as he pulled them down. “I’ve thought about you ever since I met you.”
Your heart bloomed in your chest, pleasantly startled by his confession. Your hands ran through his hand, pushing them over his forehead despite knowing they’d only fall back in place. “You were always so…friendly.”
He smiled, pressing it against the corner of your lips and decorating your cheeks and jaw with kisses. “Yeah. I always hoped that we’d be more than just friendly.”
“Well, mission accomplished.” You pulled him back into a lip lock, parting your legs to give him access.
‘Look at all the fun you’re having.’
Jeonghan was like a wandering whisper, weaving through your thoughts as Seungkwan enveloped your senses. Seungkwan’s hands were on your body, touching what’s yours and making it his, where Jeonghan could feel it as much as you could, and you knew it. He got off on this just as much as you did.
‘Feel him rubbing that pretty pussy of yours.’
“So wet…” Seungkwan said with ache, sounding like he was pleading.
His digits found your sensitivity and thumbed over your clit, stimulating you until your voice rang but the last thing you were doing was speaking. You became fluent in moans, fluid in body language, and perfect in Seungkwan. Your breath dragged on, panting against him as your leg hooked to his side, holding him with urgency.
‘So fucking horny…you were begging to be fucked, hmm?’
You couldn’t help but nod, hand lowering to find Seungkwan’s raging erection just within reach. He softly gasped, thrusting into your touch as you held his shaft, stroking his length that felt so full in your hands. So stiff, yet warm to the touch, almost tasting the tension on your tongue. 
‘Look at that size, huh? Imagine how that feels in you. Stretching your pussy and making you feel so full? Doesn’t that sound amazing?’
“I need you in me Seungkwan.” You begged in desperate pants, gripping him by the forearms. “I want to feel you inside me.”
There was a certain eagerness in his eyes, the kind that said he would do anything and everything for you in a heartbeat and succeed. You weren’t dealing with any average guy that wanted to get off. “Fuck,” he whispered, before lifting his upper body, putting himself on full display.
His physique was magnificent in every way, tantalizing and captivating like nothing you’ve ever encountered. You had an inkling of what he looked like under all his clothes, the veins always so prominent on his forearms and hands when he strained to reach something on a shelf, the line of his back when his lifted shirt revealed just a sliver of skin, or his wide hips, baring an ass so round and full they look like they came straight out of the oven. Never have you ever wanted to run your hands over something, nor have you ever wanted to sink your teeth into something. Yet, here was Seungkwan: utterly delectable.
Seungkwan dragged you by the ankles, moving you effortlessly as he angled himself between your legs, your molten heat practically dripping at the sight of him. His groan bounced off the walls, hand coming over your inner thighs and gently massaging your skin. As his kisses started to pepper over your legs, you felt your pussy physically throb, damned to eternal craving.
“You look like heaven,” He cried against your thighs. “Any protection?”
“It’s right–oh.” You picked up a rubber conveniently left at your nightstand, then handed it to Seungkwan. You‘re welcome.’
He set it aside with a smile and instead of putting it on, his face fell on your heat. He tasted you like it was worship; the dance of his tongue was his prayers, while your response flowed like a cascade of blessings. You whined when you felt him pursed around your clit, teeth barely grazing you as he sucked down like you’re the last bit of syrup in a dessert.
At the same time, his eyes glazed over to yours, a hand hovering over your chest, inaudibly asking permission, and when you gave him a wordless nod, he grabbed handfuls of your breasts. He kneaded you between his knuckles, rolling your buds between his fingers, and having you surrender to his chase.
“Seungkwan, please…”
Seungkwan’s eyes glimmered with pride, a sultry testament to the depth of his exploration. The longer he ventured, the more you found ogasmic relief, feeling every ounce of his efforts and every ounce of his pleasure. You held him by his hair, leg anchoring over his back, feeling his tongue massage your inner walls. His voice vibrates inside you, somehow stealing your breath, and filling you with utter euphoria. 
‘You feel that? How much he wants you? How much he craves you. He’s been waiting for this day. And you should reward him. Don’t you think?’
You tugged him up, watch him gasping for air, replace one pair of lips with another. You flipped him on his back, gaining momentum, and relishing in the power of control, and swallowing his gasps. You aligned the hilt of his cock towards you, ensuring you wrapped it protection before it sat between the slit of your folds. 
Seungkwan tilted his head back, his eyes glistening with desire as he admired you, his gaze revealing his thoughts like an open book.  "You're so sexy," he murmured, the words spilling out without hesitation. While his look said it all, hearing it felt like a heated rush of affirmation, and it made you want him more.
You pushed his length in you, feeling his size pulsate through you, and a moan managed to pass through your lips. Shivers ran down through you, goosebumps pebbling your skin, and you realized the raging presence of Seungkwan was going to be the death of you. As he rocked inside you, he held your hips in place, guiding your form up and down on lap, adjusting to your squeeze, and adjusting to how it contracts. “Oh my god, please, you’re driving me crazy.”
“Just like I wanted,” You teased. 
Your lips brushed against his neck, grazing your teeth over his skin before making passionate kisses to his neck, grinding down on his body until there isn’t a hint of space between your bodies. You were growing weary–albeit needy–chasing a high that was so close to be conquered. You felt it, Seungkwan felt it, and damn well Jeonghan felt it. You needed more, just a little more.
Suddenly, the air was knocked out of your lungs, as if something vital had escaped from within you, and your movements were put to a halt. 
“Sorry,” you apologize, pushing the hair way from your face. “Not sure what happened. I promise–”
“Don’t apologize to me, Humie.”
You heard his voice—or rather, an echo of Jeonghan’s voice—calling from below you, and as you met his gaze in Seungkwan’s eyes, your expression widened in shock. “Jeonghan,” you declared menacingly.
“In the flesh. Well, not my own, but you get the idea,” he quipped.
You nudged at the body beneath you, careful of not hurting the host. “Get out of this poor human’s body right now! What happened to consent?”
“Oh, he’s very much consenting to the thrill of this level of intimacy,” Jeonghan replied, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
“Not when it involves a literal ghost!”
“Relax, he won’t remember a thing. My spirit won’t let him. All he’ll recall is the good time he had,” the body thief winked playfully.
“Bullshit! Do what’s right and let the boy go.”
“But I am doing what’s right.” His grip tightened around your hips, pushing Seungkwan’s cock deeper in you as if it was possible and ebbing weak moans from as he pulled you closer, a wicked smile dancing on his lips. “So right.”
“J-Jeonghan,” you stammered, your pulse quickening.
“I just couldn’t take it anymore, Humie. You looked absolutely ravishing. I had to experience you for myself.”
Your head was screaming all kinds of denial, but your body thrived off his confidence, his energy was flowing through you, splitting through you and hitting a spot of pliancy. This was so wrong. “This…this is violating…for him…”
“But you love it, don’t you? It’s like a wicked thrill, a tantalizing pleasure that feeds your deepest, most tumultuous desires.”
You scoffed, trying to ignore the pulsating cock rocking your very core. “And what kind of desires is that?”
“You want us both,” he answered plainly. “The human and me.”
You shook your head, fingers tightening around Seungkwan’s shoulders in a desperate bid for security as you fought against Jeonghan’s seductive temptations. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Then, why don’t you get off of me?”
“It’s Seungkwan I can’t get off of,” You clarified.
You could recognize Jeonghan’s smile, even though it was plastered on Seungkwan’s face—so conniving, so devilish. It exuded an intoxicating power that was inhumane, but irresistible. “But it's me you’re riding–and fucking hell–you look so good doing it.”
“Jeonghan…” You whimpered, pleading for release from his coercion, but as you feared, mercy eluded you entirely.
“Yes,” His palm rode up your body, his lips parting in haughty confidence. “Beg for me, beg for me to fuck you full.”
“...Fuck it. I want you to fuck me full.” You accepted him, feeling the tension of the cock inside you, ripple waves straight into your heat. 
Mindlessly, you accepted his domineering hand that landed on your mouth, feeling it travel past your lips, parting way with his thumb. You wrapped your lips around his digits, sucking them like candy, and the shame that once enveloped your paradoxical feelings dissipated, leaving only a deep hunger in its wake. 
Whether it was Jeonghan or Seungkwan beneath you, it was all true to its very core. You had an undeniable infatuation for your cute neighbor and a strange fascination with the handsome ghost. The connection you felt with both was more than palpable, leaving you with an unexplained frenzy of emotions that would require extensive therapy. You knew the logical choice was the one who was alive, but you had never considered that you could have both—especially not in such a chaotic, unorthodox three-way.
“Look at what a slut you are for us, your lips so perfect wrapped around these slender fingers of his.”
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” you quietly muttered to yourself, grinding harder, sucking Seungkwan’s fingers deeper, and gradually succumbing to Jeonghan’s demands.
Jeonghan let out a deep, rolling laugh that resonated from Seungkwan’s core, a sound so rich and dark it sent a momentary unease through you. “You’re simply giving into your desires, why fight it?”
“You damn well know why,” you spat out his fingers and gritted your teeth.
“Now that’s not nice,” His hand covered the shape of your ass, cupping them in his palms, “Do I need to show you how to be nicer to me?”
“Jeonghan,” you groaned, feeling his digits dig into your flesh as he spread them apart. 
“What’s that, baby?” he experimented, “Looks like I have to make this a teaching opportunity after all? Because you can’t show your gratitude?”
“Jeonghan, please.”
“Well, if you insist.” With an unexplainable, arcane, supernatural force, the dynamics were switched and Jeonghan had you on your stomach, ass conveniently placed in from of him. 
“Jeonghan!”
"I always knew you looked good from every angle, but wow—this one is something else." His hand glided over your curves, Seungkwan’s cock splitting down your divide, you grasped your thirst.
Anticipation was wreaking havoc on your sanity, leaving you in a deafening silence as you waited for Jeonghan to make his move, impatience following. “Will you just–”
A hand clashed against your backside, your skin stinging from impact, and relieving you from a ched yelp. Jeonghan braced you against a groin, the erection nudging at your skin. “So needy,” he chuckled. You felt the tip tease along your slip, eventually filling you up in that familiar way.
You whimper, the size still enticingly foreign, and back into his weight, feel yourself travel all the way down to the base.
“An impatient,” Jeonghan softly groans, grounding himself to you in careful, yet sharp thrusts.
You balled your sheets into fists, your voice muffled as you buried your face in a pillow.
He chuckled against his skin. “That good?”
“Y-yes,” you helplessly whispered.
He slammed down on you, releasing a squeaky spring sound from the bed, both embarrassing and strangely arousing. “Even when I do that?”
“Yes…more please…”
Jeonghan repeated the move, finding a steady rhythm, and watched as your skin and flesh recoiled back against him. He could feel his host basking in the intensity of this pleasure, tears swelling his eyes as your moans echoed in his ears, memorizing from the decibels your voice reached, to the way you looked from behind, and even how the flesh of thighs spilled when you collapsed wearily on the mattress.
“Insane,” He said in hushed whispers.
“Stop it,” you whined.
“Stop what? Showing you how fucking perfect you are taking my cock?” He grunted.
You pressed your lips in a firm lip, clawing down on the bed as your core tightened, every pound drilling into you, giving into his indulgence and taking you along with him. He made every thrust count as the echo of skin slapping faded into the background.
“Oh please, help me cum.” You begged. “Please, please, please…”
His pace quickened, his rhythm erratic. “Yeah, you want you cum coat around my cock like a good little whore.”
“Yes, Jeonghan please, just give it to me.”
“You asked, and you shall receive.”
Finally, he bottomed out into you, unleashing the reins he held to prolong this moment and cut them lose. Your body was no longer yours, weakened by the spirit draining your energy. Your jaw fell slack, unable to close, a waning moaning stretching for miles, ecstasy coursing through your veins. 
You said one name, then another, and then again. This was really confusing but you were here, pounded into obvious for what it seems like endlessly, until you realized you were full and not with what you had initially anticipated. In the remenance of fatigue from the sex, you fail to notice the lack of protetction seeing as proof of you supernatural rendezvous was seeping out of you like a slow river.
“Jeonghan!” 
“What?” he drowsily answered as he claimed the side of the bed besides you, evidently using the extent of Seungkwan’s body.
“What the fuck happened to the condom?”
“Please, that’s my own cum.”
“Excuse me?”
“Ectoplasm, you know. Comes from all sorts of places.”
“I hate you so much—am I gonna get pregnant with ghost kids?”
“Relax, and no you aren’t. It’s as effective as…something really ineffective–fuck, I’m tired.”
“And Seungkwan. What about Seungkwan?”
“He’s fine and his release became as good as mine when I possessed his body. His soul is asleep right about now, having a catnap. Now come here.” he pulled you towards him, throwing your covers over you and keeping you away from the draft into to room, slipping you into his arms. “Stop tiring yourself out any further and rest. Everything will be fine when he wakes up like a man that got laid: amazing.”
“Fine,” muttered with heavy eye lids, “but only because im really tired.”
And from that moment sleep was easy.
You woke up to those same arms, now only asleep and less “ghost-like” and snuggled up closer to him, a newly acclaimed heat source. A soft chuckle escaped him, holding you tighter in his embrace as a kiss fell on the top of your forehead. “Hey there.”
You smile, cupping the side of his face in your hand. “Hi.”
“That was amazing, you’re amazing,” he said, planting another kiss on your nose. “Is it weird to say it felt so good I kinda blacked out?”
“Ha,” you shook your head, knowing the truth, “No, but thank you for the massive compliment.”
He grinned, a flush of red coating his cheeks, before pulling you into a deep and wonderful kiss, entanging his legs with yours. He seeped into realization when he found the mess between your legs, untouched since sex. “Oh shit, i did that, didn’t i?”
“It’s okay, I…have some sort of protection.”
“One moment.” Seungkwan came up naked from the bed, momentarily left the room, and with a noticeably wet hand towel. “I usually have an extra clean one on hand for after my workout. Glad I brought a backpack for no reason today.
As he inched closer, he sat between your legs, uncovering you from the blanket, and politely asked if he could help. When he received your consent, he brought it up to the mess, gently swiping between every crevice, ridding any remnants of cum that might have been left over. 
“You didn’t have to do this,” you reassure, visibly gushing.
“Of course, I do.” He insisted, a sincere smile gracing his features. “It's my pleasure taking care of you.”
It was so disorienting going from the original to Jeonghan’s version and back to the original Seungkwan. As if you were once looking through a window of an alternate reality. Still a lot to process what happened.
“I don’t usually do this,” you try explaining yourself, “I just…I’ve been into you for a long time and I just thought, maybe, you felt the same.”
“I do,” he pressed his lips to your inner thigh. “A lot.”
“So you wouldn’t mind seeing me again?”
“I wouldn’t object to the idea,” he grinned, “especially if we get to do what we did to make me black out in the first place.”
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rockstarhaechan · 5 months ago
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song mingi boyfriend headcanons
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bf!mingi, who laughs about your clumsiness but isn't any better and runs into doors all the time.
bf!mingi, who keeps hitting on you whenever he's drunk, asking if you got a boyfriend when he literally is your boyfriend.
bf!mingi, who laughs about his own jokes but won't accept that they are terrible.
bf!mingi, who always drops his food no matter how hard he tries not to.
bf!mingi, who keeps watching your favorite shows with you just to see you happy.
bf!mingi, who turns off his phone when he talks to you so his full attention is on you and no one can distract him.
bf!mingi, who got an extra playstation for you so you two can play together.
bf!mingi, who keeps buying you designer stuff even though you don't want him to.
bf!mingi, who shows you when he loves your outfits by licking his lips.
bf!mingi, who keeps arguing with you about supernatural cause he wants to restart it, but you already watched it like 10 times.
bf!mingi, who fell for you first. like literally fell in front of your feet onto the ground in a store.
bf!mingi, who gets embarrassed whenever his band members say your name because they always say weird things.
bf!mingi, who loves reading books to you.
bf!mingi, who keeps an extra pair of your clothes in case you sleep over without planning to.
bf!mingi, who cleaned out a little space for your toiletries in his shared bathroom.
bf!mingi, who loves how you interact with his other members.
bf!mingi, who buys your favorite body lotion for you to keep at his dorm.
bf!mingi, who plans all dates and won't let you pay.
bf!mingi, who washes your hair in the shower because he enjoys helping you out.
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found-pham-ily · 25 days ago
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@harvestandhearth
I almost didn't write this because of the amount of hate I was getting but you were so excited I figured one little addition wouldn't hurt.
Tw Cop!Danny if you don't like don't read.
It had been an offhand comment. Walker had notice the ghost boy...now man had seemed upset. Upon hearing Phantom's plight he had made the suggestion, become a cop.
Danny wasn't a fan of cops, too many bad things done under the guise of protecting and serving. But he'd failed at becoming a fire fighter. The heat from one of the training events had all but hospitalized him, which got him kicked out. Thanks to the meta protection acts and the open secret of who he was no one judged him for his weakness.
Then he tried for the Emt route, but between his poor high-school grades effecting any chances at a scholarship and the time he had to spend fighting ghosts he didn't really manage well and ended up dropping out. But hey he picked some stuff up and used that to patch people up post Ghost fights.
He considered a social worker too, but he couldn't exactly fight Ghost on the clock, and the lack of action made it a slog. After so long of being a vigilante, the need for action was a second nature. The Ghost biology needing to fight didn't help either.
Walker's idea buzzed around his head. It made sense in a weird way. He could actually help people, fight Ghost on the clock, and get a decent pay check...
His sister ever the busy body had asked why civil service jobs? Why not go for Nasa like he dreamed of. With the acts repealed and him being labeled a meta he could legally do so. But those damn grades ruined it.
So a cop be became. It was disturbingly easy to become one too. Worrisomely so. He was both good and bad at his job depending who you asked. The people despite their teasing loved him. He had always done his best for them, he only rarely used any form of violence with people, and when needed nothing more then the bare minimal to safely stop them. Hell he'd taken a few bullets from other cops to save people.
The other cops hated him, Danny didn't subscribe to the usually loyalty and standards a cop had. You did something illegal and abused your power he'd report it in such a way consequences had to be given. Yeah he'd keep his partner safe, and did his job well but he broke the status quo. He also made the whole force in Amity look bad. He was so good he made them look incompetent.
But despite all he did Danny wasn't free from the social scrutiny. Both from the living and the dead. Ghost mocked him for becoming lame and joining the cops. Humans just went with the stigma, not unfairly so; and it just fueled him to do his job better. To prove to people that just because he wore a uniform he wasn't full of hate.
Apparently he did his job too well. At least that's what he assumed as he sat in an office a Green Lantern in front of him. "So let me get this straight, you want me to become the face of a civilian branch of the Justice League?" Danny was still bitter about all the help he didn't get as a budding child hero.
"Yes, your work as both a cop and a meta dealing with supernatural threats has gained an online following. We want people to know that we work with the authorities and accept metas in non-hero jobs." Hal could tell the man was suspicious of him. Which wasn't unfair since the league seemed to always recruit metas into hero jobs.
"You wouldn't have to do more then you already do aside the occasional press conference." He continued.
Danny sighed and thought on it, this would secure his job that he knew was on the chopping block due to his 'insubordination'. They couldn't fire him without a major backlash if he had the Justice League on his side. But he didn't like the idea of being some sort of symbol. He just wanted to help protect people, and maybe throw some punches with some ghosts. He was a simple man after all.
"Fine but I want the medical benefits the League offers." Medical was expensive, and while Danny healed faster then the average person that didn't effect the initial bills. And he had to go to the hospital for paperwork's sake.
"That can be arranged." Hal was just glad he didn't get the expected rejection from the ex-teen hero.
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dontmixpaintinyourcoffee · 2 months ago
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I think if Soos got a glimpse of the kind of home life Pacifica has he would be like "Nope!" And do his best to yoink her right out of there. Cue chase sequence starring attack peacocks!
I would like to present for your consideration- The Mystery Shack Crew: Fall, Winter, and Spring Edition!
Soos Ramirez!
Mr. Mystery himself! Owner, tour guide, salesman, chief handyman, and proud boyfriend of Melody! He's living his best life. He takes the crew out on adventures every once in a while to find inspiration for new attractions, and often they come back with evidence of actual cryptids. Not that the average tourist can tell the difference. There's a lot of classic Stan-isms around the Shack, but he's running it all in his own Soos-y way. The place has become a lot more popular with kids since he took over.
Melody Lastname!
Cashier, bookkeeper, and proud girlfriend of Mr. Mystery! Soos insists that she fits right in with this place because she's "literally too awesome to not be magical, dude". It's a weird job, probably the weirdest she's had, but she has fun and she likes the people there. She adapts to the supernatural incredibly fast, and she and Soos are working on making an updated version of the journals based on Ford and Dippers notes. This time it's more in the vein of an instructional guide to safely interacting with the various phenomena in Gravity Falls. (Candy has insisted that they make pamphlet versions as well as guidebooks.)
Wendy Corduroy!
Same as always. She stays working at the Shack through her last years of high school, and is having a blast working for Soos. Her job performance has gone way up since he took over lol. Stan totally isn't bitter about it. She and Melody both man the cash register, but mostly Wendy works on operating and managing the attractions and shows. She and the Multibear have a whole deal where they pretend to wrestle to the death in a bimonthly performance. The Multibear doesn't really want or need money, so Wendy pays him back by playing bodyguard whenever the Manotaurs send a newbie to go and kill him. She has tons of deals like this set up.
Pacifica Northwest!
Pacifica is doing both better and worse. Her parents have gotten more strict and tense since they lost their fortune, and Pacifica has looked for more ways to stay out of the house. She worked at Greasy's for a while with Susan, but that really pissed off her parents (they're even more stringent with their public image now, and are offended that their daughter would be working at all, let alone at a diner like some common townsperson.) It stopped being a safe space for her after they found out about it. Luckily, Soos was there! He offered to let her hang out at the Mystery Shack, explaining how crucial it was in his own childhood. She was reluctant at first, but agreed. Turns out the environment cultivated at the Shack by the other three is exactly what she needed. She hangs out with Wendy a lot, she's basically her "being a normal kid" tutor. Soos and Melody also insist on giving Pacifica the full dumb kid stuff experience, everything from tacky animatronic restaurants to Lazer tag. She's not the best at expressing it, but she's super grateful for everything. Also turns out she's a natural with numbers, so she helps Melody with the books sometimes. It feels good to be good at something beyond the surface.
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anim-ttrpgs · 1 month ago
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Get Hunted by a Monster in the official Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy rulebook for only $5! Slots limited.
Alright, so there’s a bunch of slots on the hunting tables in the Eureka rulebook that never got filled. Many of them, we planned for, others, we didn’t because a whole bunch of the Kickstarter backers never submitted anything.
So now we’ve got all these empty slots for hunting table submissions, and we don’t want the monsters (or us, food costs money) to starve, so we’re selling them off.
What are the Hunting Tables?
If you’ve been following us, you probably already know that sometimes the PCs in Eureka are monsters that eat people. Often, this is one of the few ways they can restore their missing Composure, something that normal PCs restore just by eating and sleeping. If they need Composure, and can’t find anyone to eat in the immediate vicinity, they can go on a Hunt.
The GM rolls on the most relevant Hunting Table to provide the monster with an opportunty to satisfy their hunger.
If you pay for one of these slots, you can be on that table, or your friend, or your OC, or whatever you come up with, with your own little scenario for monster PCs to encounter and maybe come away from a little less hungry.
Email us at [email protected] if you’re interested, and we’ll take payment after we’ve screened your submission for anything bigoted. You can submit as many as you like if you’re willing to pay $5 for each and there’s still slots available.
Submission guidelines under the cut.
For every $5, you will be allowed to submit 1 entry to be placed in the Hunting Tables in the Eureka rulebook. If you don’t know what the Hunting Tables are, you can find them in The Supernatural chapter of the rulebook. Refer to the table of contents. You can get the beta version of the rulebook here for free at this time if you need to take a look.
For a brief description of what the Hunting Tables are, they are a series of random encounter tables that the Narrator will use to determine who, or what, a monstrous investigator may encounter when they are prowling the streets looking for victims.
What we need from you is the person or persons’ name(s), a brief visual description of them, where they are, what they are doing when the monster PC sees them, and any other guidance you can offer to the Narrator to help them portray this person.
Keep in mind that your entry may be edited for grammar, spelling, clarity, and anything else we may need to do to fit it into the tables. If your entry is too far outside the tone, themes, or setting of Eureka, you may be asked to revise or the entry slightly edited to fit.
The entry will be sorted by us into the following categories based on your description:
Mundane or Supernatural
Urban, Town, Rural, or Wilderness for entries that seem right for Ambush Predators, and Nightclub/Bar, Gay Bar, Hobby Shop, or House Party for entries that seem right for Social Predators.
That being said, when writing where the person is, be more specific than “in an urban area.” If you say something like “walking down the sidewalk” we’ll know to put that entry in the Urban category. If you say “sitting on a bar stool at the counter”, we’ll know to put that entry in the Nightclub/Bar category. The more specific information, generally the better, though we may cut down entries that are overly long.
Your entry could be a character representing yourself, someone you know, or an original character, and can be a supernatural character so long as it fits within the guidelines laid out for supernatural characters within the rulebook. However, we do ask that you avoid any famous real people(unless you yourself happen to be that famous person), and avoid copyrighted characters. Also, please avoid offensive stereotypes.
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steviewashere · 3 months ago
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Don't Dish What You Can't Serve
Rating: Teen and Up CW: Sexual Harassment (Not Between Main Pairing), Chewing Tobacco, Gross Shit Happens That I Can't Say Because It Spoils The PlotTags: Different First Meeting AU, No Upside Down AU, No Supernatural AU, Steve Never Became Friends With Tommy and Carol, Hurt/Comfort, Tommy Hagan Being an Asshole, Tommy Hagan is a Piece of Shit Here, Waiter Steve Harrington, Line Cook Eddie Munson, They Work at Benny's, So This is an AU Where Benny's Never Closed, Protective Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Gets Revenge, Steve is a College Student (But That's Not Entirely Important Here), '86 Was Eddie's Year
🥤——————🥤 Steve picks up a new job in the summer of 1986, waiting tables. The job at Family Video fell through and it just didn’t pay enough. He was starting his first year at the local college soon and he desperately needed the money. Especially since his parents cut him off, sighting his one gap year as enough reason. And so he goes to Benny’s, fills out an application and turns it in the same day. Back at his apartment, also the same day, he gets hired on. Alongside another guy around his age, one he recognizes from high school as Eddie Munson—who must’ve finally finished his time as a senior and now just needed to work.
Neither of them really talk to each other outside of putting orders in and taking orders out. Maybe occasionally scolding the other because—“You didn’t ask how rare he wanted his steak, Harrington? How the hell am I supposed to make it then?” and “Munson, you forgot the fucking ketchup on this asshole’s cheeseburger and now he won’t shut the fuck up about it. Fix this, please for the love of god.”
So, sure, they don’t get along all that well all the time. They’re not friends. More so just acquaintances. And so they don't really talk.
However, that changes one evening.
It’s a couple weeks before the upcoming school year is supposed to start. Hawkins, Indiana is one of those little college towns. Meaning, the new students were finally moving, coming around, getting to know where they now lived. And that includes one particular customer, Tommy Hagan, and his girlfriend, Carol Perkins. They’ve been coming in since mid-July, despite the new year starting in September, despite move-in dates set in late August. Every Sunday, Steve sees their pinched, smarmy, cocky faces. And every Sunday, they always cause some sort of issue.
The first time, Tommy spilled his soda all over the tiled restaurant floor. Claimed it was an accident, but Steve saw him. He saw the guy push his cup over the edge. Heard him snicker as Steve bent down to wipe it up, as he stood back up and plastered on a tight smile, promising that he’d get him a new soda right away. Flushed with shame as Tommy laughed and laughed and laughed his ass off about the, “Guy with the big stupid eyes and no thoughts in his head” and how he, “Probably doesn’t have much going for him if he’s working in a place like this.”
A riddle and game, that’s what it was. Steve would welcome them, take their orders, put them in for Eddie to make, drop the food off, and be at their service if something went wrong. Which was always. And he’d endure the stupid comments Tommy would make when he wasn’t in earshot. Spanning from how incompetent their waiter was—“He’s always screwing something up, swear to god. Don’t even know how he’s holding a job here, jeez.”—to how big of a manwhore he is because of how tight his work pants were. As if Steve would ever be catching tail in his stupid slacks, always stained with food and sticky soda by the end of the night, and the same pants that give him wedgies if he doesn’t make them sit right on his waist. All in all, Tommy is their worst customer. But it’s just a job, Steve always thought, it’ll get better at some point. Tommy will eventually start classes and leave me alone.
Then, of course, comes the Sunday a couple weeks before the new school year. Tommy is alone this time. No Carol on his arm. He just slides into one of the booths and watches Steve work until he approaches. And immediately, something is terribly off about this encounter.
“Welcome to Benny’s, can I get any drinks started for you?” Steve asks. His script. Customer service voice pitchy and monotone as it drips from his mouth.
Tommy doesn’t answer for several moments. Leaving Steve to stand and loom and stare. To smile and squirm. As he rakes his eyes so unnoticeably over all of Steve’s frame. His tongue trails along the inside of his lower lip, eyes heated, a gross smirk on his face. Smarmy.
“Bet you’d look good without that dumb frilly apron around your waist,” Tommy teases. It’s half-flirtatious, Steve thinks. But all the same creepy and…predatory.
“Excuse me?” He can only respond.
The asshole hums, assessing. Repeats himself. And adds, “You’d make better tips, too. Maybe put some gloss on your lips, a tighter shirt, no apron…yeah…vision’s coming together, baby. Could make everybody your bitch when you serve them.” He stares for a second longer. Rests his face in his left hand and flutters his eyes at Steve. “Can I get my usual, pretty boy? And one of those strawberry milkshakes.”
Steve writes the order down on his little notepad, shifting foot to foot. His stomach twists and knots. Brain still whirling at what Tommy said, unable to retort. Doesn’t even know how to really feel. Not flattered, that’s for sure. Slimy…that seems like a good enough substitute for the emotions mildewing in his chest.
“Y’know,” Tommy continues, voice sticky the way humidity is—uncomfortable—“I see how hard you work around here sometimes, even if you are pretty bad at it. Swear I can see the cogs just clogging up in your head. If you wanna give that pea brain of yours a moment to relax, you could share that drink with me. Maybe I’ll tip you real good this time, baby.”
He shifts again. Hands clammy and bile in the back of his throat. Steve swallows hard, thinks he stutters something out akin to, “I’ll be back with your order,” and promptly disappears into the kitchen.
The door swings closed behind him. And he’s not really looking, not paying attention. Just trying to get away from the residue left in Tommy’s air of existence. In the seconds between entering the kitchen and trying to storm away, he runs into somebody. An exerted grunt, raspy and deep, sounds out in front of him.
“Hey! Watch”—the person gently grabs him by the shoulders and leads them somewhere that he can’t really register. In a softer voice, no longer agitated, “Steve? Hey, man, y’alright?”
Steve sniffles. It’s then that he recognizes the heat in his cheeks, overwhelmingly hot and itchy. The scalding of tears. A pinch behind his eyes. There’s a soft cushion underneath him, the telltale creak of one of the older dining chairs. The air smells like garlic and grease, but a breeze catches over his exposed forearms—most likely from an air conditioning unit. He’s in the break room, he can finally notice. And break he does.
“That asshole is back,” he garbles, “and he”—hiccup—“he’s being really gross to me.”
The person crouches down in front of him, putting them eye-to-eye. And he knows immediately that it’s Eddie. Long hair pulled up into as neat of a bun as he can manage. A group of pitch black bats on pale skin. Dark brown eyes, shifting back and forth between his own with a mixture of concern and anger.
“What’d he say to you, Steve?”
He sniffs again, trying to gain some composure before he inevitably has a full-blown breakdown. Inevitable because he always has one when he goes home to his apartment, but it might happen here, and he can’t afford to let it happen here. Not today, at least, not now.
“Calling me…calling me baby and pretty boy. And he—he’s trying to make me share his stupid milkshake and he calls me stupid—that I have a…a fucking pea brain. Eddie, he calls me stupid every single time he comes in and I just—he’s just—I can’t”—
Eddie runs his warm hands up and down his biceps, gently pushing the fabric of his quarter sleeve, too. He shushes low and whispered. Murmurs, “I don’t want you to go back out there without me, alright?” His eyes dart back and forth between Steve’s wet ones once more. One of his hands leaves and digs into his back pocket, producing a black bandana. And he carefully brings it up close, patting it over Steve’s blotchy cheeks. “You don’t deserve that, Steve,” he whispers, “and I’ll make sure he gets what he deserves. Just wait back here for a bit and I’ll get his order done.”
Steve nods slow and heavy. Wipes the heel of his palm roughly over his eyes—to which Eddie tuts at and firmly drags it away, replacing it with the worn, soft fabric of that bandana. “Sorry that I ran into you at the door,” he says quietly.
“I’m glad you did. Because I’m going to make sure that asshole never bothers you again. ‘M sick of hearing what he does to you every single time he comes in.” Eddie stands up, but leaves the bandana to dangle in Steve’s loose grip. A tentative stroke through Steve’s hair, something he usually wouldn’t allow, but it’s too nice to turn down. “We’ll put him up on the wall, too. That bastard can suck a fucking egg.”
He laughs at that, or at least something like a laugh. It’s brittle, airy, but genuine. And watches Eddie go.
Roughly fifteen minutes later, though, Eddie wanders back into the break room and drags them back towards the milkshake blender in the kitchen. He has the ingredients all laid out next to the machine: vanilla ice cream, a gallon of milk, some freshly chopped strawberries, the can of whipped cream, and the glass itself. Adds the milk and the ice cream, but then stops abruptly, turning to dig something out of his pocket.
“What’re you doing?” Steve quietly asks, worried to be overheard through the ticket window.
“Oh, just some good ol’ payback,” Eddie answers, something darker than mirth in his tone. What he produces from his pocket is a can of chewing tobacco. The nasty menthol kind, too. He shakes the little tin in his hand, the tobacco thunking against the lid of the container. And then he twists the cap off, plucks a quarter sized amount, and stuffs the wad between his bottom teeth and lower lip. Mouth literally bulging with the tobacco. “We’ll blend this shit first,” he whispers, scheming, “add the strawberries. Then, comes the grand finale.”
Steve side eyes Eddie. His deft fingers flittering over the buttons of the blender, scooping out the strawberries with the same hand he picked up tobacco with. He grimaces, but doesn’t comment on that. “Grand finale?”
“One of the biggest fears that customers have when they go into any restaurant is that the waiter is going to spit in their food,” he nonchalantly explains, capping the blender, “though, a lot of them don’t consider the line cook. Or at least, the rude ones don’t.” Eddie shifts something in his mouth, what sounds like the slosh of thick saliva. “He’ll probably complain, but it’s not like he’ll be believed. It’s a safety hazard, sure. But nobody suspects the cook because they’re supposed to know that shit. A cook spitting in a patron’s food? No way, man. That shit’s taboo.”
“And if he is believed?”
Eddie merely shrugs. “Then I get fired. But it’s whatever. I’m already on my way out anyway, got enough money for what I need.” 
Before Steve can ask or get in response, Eddie’s blasting the blender. It chugs and churns the half cup of milk and the measly two scoops of ice cream. The strawberries burst and bleed juice throughout, mixture turning pink. And with a few shakes, a half-way pit stop to unclog the bigger chunks, and a go-about with the partially dysfunctional blades—Eddie chucks the lid off, unlocks the pitcher from the machine, and turns away from Steve.
“I’m gonna have the good graces to not make you watch this shit,” Eddie gives as an explanation, “y’may wanna cover your ears.” Steve doesn’t, though wishes he did. With a cough and a semi-gag, Eddie inhales and burbles the saliva in the back of his mouth. He can hear the way the tobacco spit dribbles from between Eddie’s lips, the way it plops into the blended mixture, and the last little dredges left in his mouth. Steve’s stomach turns, but he doesn’t stop it. Doesn’t step in.
Eddie turns back around with the blender. Sitting on top of the pink mix is one quarter sized glob of tobacco and saliva, the spit already spilling down the sides of the pitcher. “Ta-da!” Eddie exclaims, shaking the pitcher back and forth. “And that is what I like to call the revenge special. Half cup milk, two scoops of vanilla ice cream, four chopped strawberries, and a fantastical exported ingredient from the land of your’s truly. It may be a seasonal item, but it’s got the gust of something that’ll last a lifetime.”
“God…that is disgusting,” Steve mock-whispers. “You’re a fucking genius.”
“Thank you, it’s one of my many tricks.” He sets the blender down onto the metal counter, a hard thunk that rattles the milkshake glass. “Now, do me a favor and pour that into the glass, get him one of those stupid striped straws, spray it up with some whip. And I’ll dish up his monstrosity of a cheeseburger.” Eddie’s eyes soften away from the mirth they previously had. His voice dropping low, too. “I’ll deliver it, too, by the way. I would never throw you under the bus for something gross like this. This should hopefully get him to stay away, though. If he does complain about you and you have to flee, I’ll help you find a new job.”
“I could just say I did it, y’know,” Steve tentatively says, “that I fucked up his drink. You don’t need to lose your job because of issues I’m having.”
“You were crying, Steve,” Eddie points out gently. “Nobody makes my waiters cry. And nobody gets away with it, either.” He slinks away from Steve without another word and without another word getting in. And Steve watches him for a long moment. As he busies himself around his workspace, tidied and organized the way he needs it. The flex of his muscles as he flips and cuts and assembles that cheeseburger. His baby hairs at the crown of his head getting stuck to his sweaty temples, hard work painting and furrowing his brows.
But when he’s caught staring, Eddie simply and softly smiles, gestures at the blender, and turns back to his plate. So, Steve does what he’s told. Assembles the nail to his coffin, one pour and spray and straw at a time. And walks out of the kitchen, behind Eddie’s flexing back, his grease stained and sweat drenched white t-shirt. He sits at the front counter, in one of the old, flaking barstools. Watches.
Tommy looks up at Eddie from his spot in the booth, eyes wide as he sees Eddie take a seat across from him. He grimaces and sours. “You aren’t that waiter. Who the fuck are”—
“Heard you like milkshakes,” Eddie drawls. “Thought maybe I could get your opinion on a new recipe I’m trying. It’s strawberry, don’t worry your preppy little chinos off. But there’s been a slight change, was wondering what you’d think about it.”
Across the table, Tommy gives Eddie an odd glance. “Is it that important that you watch me? Surely I could’ve just sent my compliments to you or whatever when I’m done.”
“Nah, I like getting it straight from the source. So, go ahead, take a sip. Tell me what you think.”
Steve has to physically draw himself back, has to swallow down the gag and bile working their way through him, and genuinely convulses back against the counter as Tommy takes his first, long, hard sip of the milkshake. His face doesn’t move much with the sip, but he does scowl a tad, grimacing with a slight twitch in his upper lip.
“Tastes sour,” Tommy comments.
Eddie hums. “But is it good? Sometimes sour’s a good thing.” He reaches across the table, then, and plucks up Tommy’s cheeseburger. Crosses one arm across his chest, hand resting on his opposite bicep, and brings the food up to his mouth, taking a hearty bite.
“Hey!” Tommy exclaims, “that’s my cheeseburger, man! You can’t just”—
“Get a second sip and maybe I’ll consider remaking your food.” Eddie smugly watches Tommy take another deep swallow. His eyes cast at the glass, roaming at the little brown flecks in the shake. Knowing and proud. “It’s good, isn’t it?”
“I mean it’s…objectively, I guess it’s good. Can I get a new burger, man? I’m starving here and I’ve got a date with my girlfriend in thirty minutes.”
All at once, Steve’s heart enters his stomach. Eddie takes another large bite of the burger before replacing it on Tommy’s plate. He crosses his arms against the top of the table, fingers tucked securely in the creases of his elbows. Leans all the way across until he’s nearly nose to nose with Tommy.
“So, could you taste what was different? Could your pea brain discern the new flavor on your tongue?” He asks, smarmy as Tommy has ever been. Over-confident, yet satisfied.
Tommy’s eyes widen at his words being thrown back in his face, startles against the back of his booth. Fingers gripping to the edge of the table, cheeks going pale. “I…I don’t”—
“Spit.”
“Wh—What?”
“Spit,” Eddie repeats coldly. “You just drank my fucking tobacco spit.” Silence. And then, “How’d I taste, baby? Be honest. Was it everything you’d ever hope it would be with a man?”
More silence. Tense and thick, enough that it weighs on Steve’s shoulders across the way. However, Tommy finally registers what just happened. He gags hard, hand covering his curdled mouth. Behind it, muffled, he says, “You’re sick in the head. I’ll—I’ll fucking tell your boss. You’ll fucking regret this.” And he stands up on shaky legs, dashing away before he can vomit all over himself.
Eddie only watches him leave, satisfied and content. He looks back to Steve, grins. “I can’t wait to see his girlfriend’s face when she finds out he isn’t allowed back.”
Steve nervously giggles and crosses to the booth, sliding in where Tommy just was. “You’re insane,” he murmurs.
“Yeah, but it worked, didn’t it? Too bad he didn’t leave a tip. There is a cheeseburger if you want the rest of it. Promise I didn’t fuck with that.” Eddie’s eyes are on him, soft and thoughtful, watching him pick up the partially eaten burger. “I can make you a new one instead, if you’d prefer. Extra cheese, too.”
“Trying to get in all the cooking you can before this inevitably backfires?”
“Sure…or I’m trying to make sure you’re taken care of. One in the same, I suppose. So, provolone, right? Could even combine some of the cheese if you want. Pepper jack and havarti…colby jack and swiss. Take your pick.”
Steve glances up from the plate in front of him. Heart beating fast and chest gooey as Eddie looks onto him with something like reverence. “Provolone, please,” he requests quietly, “and can I get extra crunchy crinkle fries, too?”
Reaching out a hand, Eddie gently pats the back of Steve’s left. “You got it, baby”—he hisses—“I probably shouldn’t call you that. I’m so”—
“It’s alright,” Steve murmurs, “I…uh…I don’t mind if it’s you.”
Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, then stands from the other side of the bench. “You’re gonna give me a hero complex and an ego, Stevie.” He begins to retreat towards the kitchen, calling out about bringing the dishes back when he’s done, that the milkshake could just be tossed glass and all.
But Steve stops him with, “Hey, Eddie?” Is met again with those soft, dark brown eyes. “Thank you,” he quietly says, “I never thought I’d get him away from me. Means a lot that you helped.”
There’s a soft smile on Eddie’s face, one that Steve can’t help but return.
“Anything for you, man.”
He makes Eddie stop again, though. To gaze, to drink in that tight white t-shirt and the spatter of black ink on his arms, his heavy pretty curls, and that soft face of his. “When we finish closing up for the night, do you wanna come over to mine? I’ve got a rented copy of Empire Strikes Back and a few beers. Only if you”—
“I’d love to, Steve. Now let me make you your food, sweetheart. Before you gobble me up with that hungry stare of yours.”
🥤——————🥤
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carelessflower · 5 months ago
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On Testing and Qualifying Magnus Lightwood-Bane's Sugar Daddy Behaviors - An Analysis
Multiple arguments have been made against the current High Warlock of Brooklyn, superficially regarding whether this gentleman's reputation as the current Consul of the Clave's sugar daddy is underappreciated or exaggerated. This study aims to dissect the argument with the support of textual evidence throughout the couple's appearances in the series
Paying for their first date
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Taking care of the bill like a gentleman. From this instance, one can assume he takes his gentlemanly courting ritual very seriously, as he also reached for the meal cheques in other occassions
Conjuring and pelping to pick fine clothes for Alec
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On their famous Europe vacation, it is shown Magnus has a habit of magicking tuxedoes, suits, and well-made sweaters for Alec. Now, if he could upgrade that GAP scarf to a Burberry one, it would be much appreciated
Gentleman behavior
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Even though his boyfriend is supernaturally strong with biceps to bite for days and hunts bloodthirsty demons for a living, Magnus would still rather pay someone to carry the heavy luggage than his darling
Luxurious accommodation only
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There has been a previously published study on the expenses for all these places here, so this article will be repeating the same key points:
one night at Istanbul Grand Suite on the Orient Express: $26,000
suite in Belmond Hotel Cipriani: $1,056
suite in Palazzo Manfredi, Rome: $729
It is understandably relatable when one pulls Alec Lightwood and wants to do everything in their power to woo him. For Magnus, it apparently includes never letting Alec stay in any place less than five stars
Letting Alec drive the Maserati
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It costs around $10,860 to rent a red Maserati 3500 GT Vignale Spider for one day. Therefore, it speaks volumes to Magnus's affection for his boyfriend that Alec almost crashes them and the expensive car off a cliff is just a "tiny accident". It is also very likely he buys this type of car later, seeing his husband's fascination with them
Living together in Brooklyn
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Months into the relationship Alec has already possessed a literal key to Magnus's home and proceeds to move in after weeks of getting back together. For other poor souls who are looking for a 3-bedroom brownstone in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, the rent would be estimated at around $5000 per month. For the Consul, it certainly would involve a different type of payment method
Alec's magically money-full pocket
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The consul carrying energy bars in his duffle bag instead of using the 15000$ in his pocket guarantees the funniest mental images one could possibly imagine
Enchanting Izzy's whip for Alec's birthday
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Knowing Alec's top wish is to keep his family safe, Magnus chooses to tip his boyfriend's sister's whip in a prized potion to help her on the battlefield. Loving someone to the point you want to protect what else they love
Assisting shadowhunter without payment
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This element may prove to be the strongest supporter of Magnus's claim as THE sugar daddy of the shadowhunter chronicles universe title, seeing how he used to overcharge shadowhunter on their business (deservingly so), and now he is willing to do all kinds of crazy shenanigans without an ounce of money. Whoever's in charge of the Clave's budget better send Alec the biggest, freshest, most expensive fruit basket
Final note
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In conclusion, this research paper does not provide a definitive answer to the argument but encourages readers to draw their own perspectives. Nevertheless, it is a great possibility that in his report, the consul stated he used 10-20 dollars each week while he was traveling across the world, going to Japan when he craved sushi and staying in the finest places, all thanks to his generous husband
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achilles-rage · 4 months ago
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you know how oliver stark takes pics on set of 911? what if buck was just as familiar with a camera? god, he would love to take pictures of you at all times.
(a hint of smut below the cut! 18+ only, please!)
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it's something he bought online one night during his 3am research deep dive. he's not an expert, but he likes to use it every now and then.
it would start one morning when you're making your way around his kitchen, deciding to make him breakfast. he's propped up on the couch, his camera sitting on the coffee table.
he thinks you look gorgeous, with the soft morning light shining in the window and lighting up your pretty face. the way your soft thighs are peeking out of your oversized shirt. the way you bite your lip in concentration as you try not to burn anything.
he just has to grab his camera and take a quick picture before you notice, loving the blissfully unaware state of you just existing in his space, looking more gorgeous than he's ever seen you.
he starts to take pictures more and more after this. when you're doing your makeup in the bathroom mirror. when you're standing with your bare back facing him, trying to pick a shirt to wear out of your clothes that have somehow ended up making their home mixed with his own. but, he loves how you look when you cook the most, so a lot of his pictures are taken from the same angle on the couch as you mull over the food you're making.
you don't even notice for a couple months; he always tries to do it when you're not paying attention. he loves how you look when you're not trying to look good for the camera. he knows you're gorgeous either way, but nothing beats the relaxed look on your face when you're not trying to pose or look better.
you finally find out one day when you're sprawled out on his bed, your mixed releases dripping down your thighs and your lips parted as you try to catch your breath. he gets off of you quickly and runs to his dresser, grabbing the camera and making his way back to you. he kneels over top of you, aiming the camera at your face.
it's sunset, and the golden light mixed with the glow of his bedside lamp makes your blissed out face even more stunning. you laugh softly up at him, whispering a small "what are you doing?" as he takes the picture. you can see the wide grin on his face, and at this moment, you're not even worried about how you might look.
"wanna remember you exactly like this. in my bed. happy. absolutely beautiful." he murmurs. you bite your lip softly at his words, and he takes the opportunity to take another photo.
the moment feels so intimate to him as he watches you through his lens, knowing this sight is only for him, and his camera. the only thing in frame is your face, and your hair on his pillow. he isn't worried about capturing your perfect tits, or your soft belly, or your thick thighs still dripping with his cum, as much as he loves all of those things, he only cares about the happy look on your face. the relaxed look on your face.
he loves taking pictures of you, and this picture is definitely his new favourite. he gets it developed, keeping a small version of it in his wallet. he doesn't let anyone else see it, but he does take it out when he's missing your face, or your laugh, or your voice. it gives him comfort, and makes his chest swell with pride when he remembers that he was the one to take the picture, to capture you so perfectly in that moment in time.
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rhenuvee · 7 months ago
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Warnings: lots of kissies, established relationship, suggestive (bc of author simping), a little angsty in the last one..?
For Diluc (aka my beloved)'s birthday: Diluc stans, which AU do we like him in?
CEO!Diluc who looks so refined and handsome everyday in his crisp suit. His employees are intimidated by his cold gaze, and don't dare get in his way. Not you though- because Diluc's favourite part of his work days are when you visit him, bringing him a light snack or a drink (to which he grumbles because he insists it's his job to spoil you), completely void of his usually serious demeanour. He finds it especially frustrating whenever an employee bursts in, interrupting you fixing his tie or midway towards a kiss. He will not allow his workers to see him in a flustered state- that is reserved for you.
Rockstar!Diluc who doesn't understand the reason for his popularity. You beg to differ- you always tell him how hot he looks, all mysterious and badass when he's wearing dark colours and the silver accessories that accentuate his look. The way his bangs stick to his forehead, the way his fingers skillfully pluck the strings of his guitar. Sure, performing is exhilarating, but his favourite part about it is when it's intermission- a time where his attention is on you. Where he has you sat on his lap, dazed and admiring your beauty, stroking your cheek, giving you light kisses here and there. It couldn't get better than this.
Hockeyplayer!Diluc who looks gorgeous when he takes off his helmet, revealing his long luscious red hair. You praise him, cooing on how hot and rugged he looks after playing a tough game. He's grateful for having something that covers his face at all times, otherwise his teammates would catch him blushing. He denies your statements, claiming you're exaggerating- yet he will let you hold onto his muscular arms every time. He's sweaty after a game and doesn't want to disgust you, but you're always there to remind him that you love him, sweaty or not.
Fireman!Diluc who genuinely just wants to do good for the community and needs you to stop gushing over him in uniform- or even better worse, without a shirt on. He finds it quite ridiculous how you keep the newspaper of when he saved a cat and his bare forearms were visible on the front page. You shamelessly stare when he comes home taking off his jacket, leaving only his bare chest to ogle at. He catches you every time, resulting in him blushing which he hopes you don't see. So he effortlessly picks you up with your legs hooked around his waist in his strong, beefy arms and wonders, what is he gonna do with you?
Racer!Diluc who always shows up on time at the end of class/work to pick you up in his sports car. He waits for you leaning on his vehicle, until he takes your hand and opens the passenger door for you before kissing your hand like the gentleman he is. He kisses your forehead and caresses your cheek sweetly before departing to start his race. And after a long night of you cheering for his win (which he claims is because of you), he doesn't fail to notice you getting sleepy. He coos as how you try to stay awake, but he once he carries you to the car, he bringing your head to rest on his shoulder, lightly lulling you to sleep.
Prince!Diluc who, despite his high status, treats you like absolute royalty. There is always gossip about the young prince, how handsome and eligible he would be to marry another heir of a neighbouring kingdom. But he pays it no mind- for he is already happily together with you. When it is time for the ball, his eyes go soft, when he sees you in your gown. You ask if you look okay and Diluc can only bury his head in your shoulder, telling you how beautiful you are in between kisses. Every kiss, every dance, every flower- it's yours.
Vampire!Diluc who curses himself for being so greedy with you. Despite him being a supernatural and dangerous being, he retains his gentleness when it comes to you, and you only. When it's time to feed, he feels his heart sink every time because it hurts you. He kisses the spot where he bit as a way to relieve the pain, and brings you whatever you need to relax again. Because of that he clings to you dearly, and is willing to do anything to protect you.
Which Diluc is your fave? Mine personally is fireman!-Luc but you know I’ll take any Diluc any day <3
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btsmosphere · 5 months ago
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Supercharged | JJK
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Chapter 14: Cover Me
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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: An unprecedented strike at the heart of bangtan leaves you baring yours.
🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 5.7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, (supernatural) animal attack, injury
a/n: if this whole time the slow burn has been me leaning nearer to a candle with a lighter... now is where I finally let the flame catch🤭👀
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The one good thing to come of your escapade was, unexpectedly, quite a plethora of entertaining tales designed to make you feel better. As it turned out, most of the boys had also been just as, if not more, stupid than you on occasion.
While your body was exhausted, and smiling pulled at the cuts on your face, you couldn’t help yourself. All of you would be in bed long after the sun rose at this rate, but right now you made no complaint as you fell back against the couch with laughter. Even Yoongi, the butt of the current story, bore a begrudging grin.
“I still can’t believe it!” Jimin cackled, falling over Yoongi’s lap dramatically. In all honesty, you didn’t know how he even managed to speak around his giggles, “those innocent people just wanted to have a fun night!”
“Most of them were innocent-”
“And the non-innocent among them were terrified when the disco lights got hijacked,” you deadpanned.
Yoongi rolled his eyes.
“I was in a bad mood.”
“You heard it here: don’t mess with our Yoongi, you can’t imagine what he’s capable of,” Jin teased.
“It’s less of an abuse of power than stopping an entire highway of traffic just so the Kan CEO couldn’t get away,” Yoongi responded, eyes pointedly fixing on Jimin.
Jimin’s head snapped up, surprised by the turn towards him. His hand tightened on V’s, but the next second he scoffed a laugh.
“He deserved it!”
“That’s the reason every time one of you makes a fool of yourself,” Jin smiled. “You can be stupid and they can still deserve it.”
His eyes flicked over to you, then. While embarrassment still washed over you, it gave way to a sheepish smile, your private response.
Sinking into the warmth of the squishy sofa, a smile laced your lips, not leaving, as your friends kept laughing and poking fun. The night went on, eyes beginning to droop and laughter growing sleepy.
They had welcomed you back with understanding. It was more than you could have hoped for, some hours ago fighting for your life in the cold.
This was your home. And the man who once wanted you gone had been the one to bring you back.
Jungkook hadn’t sat beside you. After the revelations you had shared in the bathroom, perhaps your both needed some reeling space. But you noticed his eyes on you from his spot opposite, and found your smile came easily.
Though he didn’t return it, he wasn’t cold. His expression unwavering, his brows were almost imperceptibly creased with intrigue.
You only let your body’s haze of exhaustion wash through you, not trying to read closer into his demeanour. Although you may not understand him half the time, you knew one thing for sure, and for tonight, that was enough.
He still wanted you here.
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Noise drenched the space, wrenching you from sleep. Even while your eyes were still opening, your body moved without you, getting your legs under you.
Covers thrown off, the relative cold shocked you fully to your senses before another crunch shook the very walls.
Suddenly very awake, your brain whizzed through the last dizzying seconds. And didn’t land very far from the initial, sleep-crazed and panicked conclusion that you were dying.
The crunch was interrupted before it even finished ringing out, by another noise, splintering through the air. An immense thud of something hitting the ground buzzed through the floorboards beneath your feet.
Heart hammering as if trying to match the cacophony assaulting you, you sprinted for the door. You threw it open and stopped dead.
Sudden, brilliant light assaulted you. Of course it was light; you had all stayed up far too late after yesterday. So much for a rest.
But the light didn’t come from the window.
It came from the gaping hole in the ceiling.
Hardly daring blink, you let your eyes strain in shock and staggered from your doorway. A chunk of rubble sat in the hall, between yours and the others’ bedrooms. Gaping, you looked to the chasm above you, beyond which was sky.
Just then, another movement drew you back to earth.
You had never seen Namjoon with bedhead before, your scrambled brain realised as you met eyes with your bewildered leader through a doorway.
And then darkness plummeted between you.
Thunder deafened you, and you were forced to jump back from a shower of debris. Beyond the caving of the roof, a roar rumbled. Not another sound of stone or brick; it was like an animal.
You readied your hands, the only thing you could do.
The wall of wreckage settled so high you could no longer see Namjoon. But the others must be awake, too. Whatever the hell was going on, you would take it together.
A shape loomed then in the open space, blocking out the sun. Before you could make out more than a silhouette, it stomped closer, the building shuddering beneath it. Dust rained down in the thin remaining streams of sunlight.
Then, all at once, it pounced through the hole it had opened, and was filling the air with its great roar.
Rubble cracked under its feet. The floor shook. The doors rattled – before the thing lashed out an immense arm, and the wood splintered like paper.
So it had arms. And legs, poised beneath it like a predator. And teeth.
Eyes adjusting, you honed in. You didn’t like what you saw.
Unfortunately, it saw you too.
The beast’s furry head twisted your way, fixing you with eyes you would never forget. Its jaws opened, and your power surged within you at the same moment it lunged-
Then shot sideways in a blur. It fell with the crunch of its own weight, a lump of masonry disintegrating around it.
Aborting your shot at the last second, you fell back against the wall, blindly throwing your arms up as claws slashed through the air inches from you in the fall. Bricks flew, slamming dents into plaster.
You stayed there, fixed in place, gasping. Not just because of the near-miss.
You knew this beast.
A blur and Jimin was in front of you, feet skidding to a halt among the dust and smithereens. Looking up at him in shock, you found his face hardened, nostrils flaring as he glared towards the creature.
He stuck a hand under your nose, but as you took it, a lumbering shape reappeared in the corner of your eye.
Clutching your hand tighter, Jimin stepped back.
The monster whizzed around, limbs flailing. Nothing it came into contact with could put up a fight; the tv sparked as talons sliced through the centre. It fell uselessly to the ground and burst into flames behind the creature, who drew to its full height. The glinting gaze was the same, unperturbed by Jimin’s rock-solid attack.
“What is that?” Jimin hissed in horror.
You could have answered, but shock had words sticking in your throat.
Everything moved at once, the monster leaping forwards again. It forced you and Jimin apart, both diving away from the vicious claws. Its bulk smashed against the wall, but it was already scrambling up, readying a new strike.
Crawling below the kitchen table on your elbows, you looked over your shoulder in time to see the eyes swivel straight to you again. Dread overflowed in your chest.
But it got no further.
An impact knocked its head sideways, though not off-balance this time. Merely a jolt, as if dodging a fly. Growling deep in its throat, it looked around.
At the same moment, you found the form streaking through the air which had struck it. Hobi.
Uncaring for the chairs you sent crashing to the floor, you shot up from your shelter and took aim. Your electric blue took out the arm that threatened your friend.
And so it was back on you.
Thundering steps pounded closer and you were backed into the wall. Another strong blast hit it square in the chest, but only served to anger him more. Every nerve screamed at you to dodge, flee sideways, but you squared your jaw and let him run at you.
Remembering what Kuyang had told you, you hoped the same weak spot still held true on Frank. You had never actually had to use it before.
“Y/N!”
Jin’s yell of your name threw you off, tearing your eyes from the spot on Frank’s head. Flooding over the pile of rubble came the rest of your team. Jin cocked a gun by his head. Your eyes darted between the monster and your friends, the world slowing for a breath.
“No…” you whispered. Frank was almost upon you.
Jin fired. The crack of a bullet made Frank turn, the sweet spot on his head now out of sight.
Cursing, you ducked as he made impact with the wall, apparently forgetting you were ever there. Scrambling clear of his reach, you found your feet. But Frank was already moving again.
Among the mass of matted hair, you saw the tail of a dart poking from his back. A tranquilizer. While a good idea, you knew that it wouldn’t knock Frank out by a long shot. He needed strong sedation, and a lot at that. Your lab wasn’t equipped for that.
All they had done was piss him off more. Your heart thundered along with Frank’s steps as he lunged for your friends.
With a sweep of his hand, V shot up a wall of purple flames. Frank bellowed and swiped at them, unfazed by the burn. Orange fire burned thicker your end of the room, spreading from the tv to the rug, and you leapt around it, firing at the monster’s back. Anything to keep him from your brothers.
Sure enough, Frank turned, but a new shape came at him. Your heart squeezed as Hobi flew so close by – near enough to the weak spot on his head, but he didn’t know about that. Among the crashing and roaring of fire and fighting, he would never hear you. Your comms were safely tucked away in a room downstairs. This was a fight you hadn’t seen coming.
Frank’s eyes locked onto the boy coming for him. Hobi landed a solid kick and whirled away, but Frank wasn’t giving up. A slash of talons followed.
“No!” you screamed, firing with precision into Frank’s eyes.
The creature stumbled, claws fumbling wildly, but it hadn’t been enough. Hope’s form dropped hard to the floor, rolling away. He stayed there, still on the floorboards.
Jimin marched closer, a hand raised, and Frank was slammed back into the wall. Jimin flung his arm down and Frank’s face was smashed on the rubble, dropping to his knees.
With the brief distraction as cover, you raced towards Hobi. Skidding to your knees in front of him, a breath punched out of you as you saw his eyes open.
“Shit, Hobi.”
Reaching out, you circled your arm around his shoulders and hauled him to sit with your help. You winced along with him, but you had to move. A long gash ran down his chest.
“I’m… okay,” he panted.
“Bullshit,” you spat.
A new holler from the beast had you whirling to look over your shoulder. Frank held Jimin in a gargantuan fist, raising him from the ground.
“Jimin!” you cried, but your voice was drowned out in Frank's roar, and the bursts of desperate rifle fire from Jin.
V had already leapt into action, murderous purple tinting his eyes as he brought flames up around the beast, swamping him. Jimin’s eyes still burned pink, despite his immobilisation. His brows drew down in focus, and a new piece crumbled from the roof onto the monster’s skull.
Though it stumbled, the creature didn’t even fall.
“We need to get out of here,” you hissed.
Though Hobi sagged against you, you felt him nod. Easing him to rest against the wall, you stood.
A silhouette darting through the flames emerged. You had never seen V like this. His expression was clouded with dark, wild anger and he leapt for Jimin, catching hold of Frank’s arm and swinging from it.
Blazing purple circled Frank’s flesh along every inch where V made contact.
An ear-splitting howl of pain and rage ripped from the monster’s throat. Throwing his arms to the side, he tossed both V and Jimin who came flying towards you. In mid-air, Jimin caught hold of V, curling around him before they both came tumbling to the ground at your feet.
Thrashing his immense arms, Frank blundered out of the column of fire, leaving it to eat up the building behind him.
Seeing Jimin and V untangling themselves, bruised but mobile, you stepped around them.
“Get out of here,” you told them with urgency, “take Hope.”
“Y/N-!”
Jimin called after you, but you were already starting forwards.
The only one left standing was Jin – where were the others? – so you had to put a stop to this before anyone else got hurt. Dashing forwards, you found Frank hadn’t made a target of you yet. He took his fury out on your house, which was quickly devolving into little more than wreckage.
A glance at Jin showed him backing away, to your relief. In the other direction, Hobi was sandwiched between Jimin and V, rushing between the violet flames to escape through the garage.
A booming roar brought you back to Frank.
The monster stomped his foot, gaping jaws wide and snarling as he lifted his arms. Claws dug into brick, tearing off a chuck of ceiling. You jumped as he sent it crashing to the ground in a fog of dust.
A wall of rubble was stacked in front of you, but Frank’s enormous foot cracked it easily as he stepped over it.
Red fire spat at your back, the heat immense. You couldn’t back up further.
Frank’s giant fist descended, grip circling a couch, the end of which was already flaming. He lifted it, flung it to the side. Removing it from his path as he advanced on you.
Below it, someone moved. Ducking underneath, heading straight for you. Next moment, the figure crashed against you, throwing you to the side with strong hands gripping your arms.
They flipped, taking the brunt of the fall to their back as you slid together among the debris.
Instantly, you were struggling against them, throwing the arms off. They let you go, and you struggled to your feet, rounding on them.
“Jungkook?”
He staggered up too, reaching for your arm.
“We need to go,” he panted, “we can’t fight it.”
“I can,” you protested, shaking him off.
But he sprung forwards, grabbing you. With a startled cry, you were twisted around. His arm caught your waist, yanking you against him, placing him closest to Frank to fire a golden beam at the claws which had swiped for you.
“I thought we went over this?” Jungkook’s voice was ragged in your ear.
A new pounce from Frank sent you both diving over the rubble. You landed hard on your elbows, Jungkook’s arm on your back.
“We did,” you gasped, scrambling to right yourself, eyes never resting between Jungkook’s confusion and the looming threat of Frank. “But I mean it this time. I know how- argh!”
Frank swept a forceful kick at the table. It cracked under the force, two halves shooting into the air to crash against the kitchen cabinets.
Dropping to the floor, you rolled away from the hunk of wood as it clattered back to earth between you and Jungkook.
In the haze of dancing flames and cascading dust, thick in the air, you met Jungkook’s eyes.
“Just trust me!” you shouted, the words wrenching deep from your chest. Your chest rose and fell sharply with exertion. Frank was running again. You had had too many chances already; this had to be the one.
With one last glance back at Jungkook, you found his eyes blazing. But with determination, not anger.
“Cover me?” you called.
A sharp nod was all you needed.
Not sparing any moment to doubt, you took off. Charged straight at the beast.
Just as you trusted he would, Jungkook rushed the other way, firing gold right into Frank’s heart. Its predatory eyes followed Jungkook, while its back turned to you.
Frantic heart spurring you on, you fixed your eyes on the spot you aimed for.
And jumped.
There was no way Frank didn’t feel the human landing bodily against his back. The moment you made contact, you grabbed on fiercely, anticipating the enraged lurch of his body as he tried to throw you off.
Dangling from his shoulder, you swung a leg up, securing around his neck.
Dazzling gold knocked a fist aimed for you off-course. Jungkook had your back. You couldn’t afford to spare any attention on where the next one would come from.
Reaching up, you grabbed onto Frank’s head, fingers closing around a bony ridge that lined his monstrous skull. He shook harshly, making you cling with your every muscle as your hand fumbled over his skin.
And then you pressed down. Scrubbing your hand back and forth, the effect was almost instant.
The shaking stopped. You didn’t. This patch should knock him out for at least half an hour, you remembered.
Then Frank dropped, his entire mass hitting the ground as one. You were thrown down with him, head jerking forwards and stopping inches from the floor.
There you stayed for a long second. Just panting in the sudden stillness.
At last, you rolled off the monster’s form, bracing your landing with hands against the ground. A bit shaky from the adrenaline crashing through you, you let yourself smile, and looked up.
The place was a mess. If only you could have got to Frank sooner, it need not have escalated like this. But you had no way of telling your friends not to get involved. At least you had done it now, although the place was left a disaster scene of fire and debris.
Trying your best to ignore the crackling flames, you looked up to the figure silhouetted in front of them.
Jungkook looked back at you in total shock. His slack face was painted with a shade of bewildered horror.
“What. The hell.” He said flatly.
Huffing a laugh, you finally pushed yourself to your feet and wiped your hands on your trousers.
And found yourself knocked back by a fierce hug. The shock alone nearly swept you off your feet. As it was, you kept your ground and blinked, startled, into Jungkook’s shoulder as his arms wrapped fast around you.
It was all you could do to get your arms to stop hovering, and tentatively hold him in return. Not to mention the effort it took to ignore the frightening soar of your heart under his touch. Surely he would feel it thumping against him, with how tight he gripped you in that moment.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” he half-laughed, stirring the hair above your ear.
Forcibly shutting your gaping mouth, you chuckled, face falling forwards against his shoulder.
“So you keep saying,” you replied wryly.
Finally, you summoned the courage to ease away from him. Honestly, you were a bit worried about the speed your heart was pumping the longer you touched, but it was strangely counter-intuitive to step out of his arms.
Jungkook found you with wide eyes, and slowly lowered his hands in a mirror of yours.
With an awkward laugh, you darted your gaze away.
“Kuyang made this guy,” you nodded down to the creature. Your eyes lingered the closed eyes and tantalising teeth that had always made you shudder back in your days at the lab. “We called him Frank.”
You weren’t sure Jungkook’s eyebrows could climb any higher.
“…Frank?”
“Yeah. Bit more fun than ‘Necrus X’, I suppose,” you shrugged, and stepped to Jungkook’s side.
He kept eyeing Frank.
“How long do we have?”
“He’ll wake up in around half an hour,” you told him.
His eyebrows pulled downwards a fraction, and he glanced around the space.
“How do we kill it?”
But your focus was distracted by a pitch floating through the air, growing closer. Looking up, you found your gaze on the empty hole torn in the roof.
Sirens.
People were arriving.
“Let’s not stick around to try.”
Jungkook seemed to agree with you, reaching for your hand in an instant. Then he was tugging you with him, towards the stairs leading underground to the training space. You never usually had to scale piles of rubble to get there, but the world did change very fast these days.
Near the peak of the mini-mountain, you took the chance to peer up through the cracks. Blue lights flashed somewhere near, and you had never heard so many people at once in this part of town.
Soon, Jungkook’s hand was urging you on, and you jogged down the stairs side-by-side.
“Looks like we’re busted,” you worried aloud.
Jungkook sighed, but it could have been from the exertion. Your feet met the training floor and you raced away together. He kept clutching your hand. Of course, you had expected him to let go the first chance he got, and yet you found yourself holding firmly in return. Must be the need for some kind of steady comfort after that fight. Right?
“Namjoon and Yoongi cleared us out,” Jungkook was saying. You had to force yourself to tune in, wresting your mind away from the ever-present warmth of his fingers around yours.
“I guess they’re prepared for something like this. They shut down all the tech, collected some documents. Destroyed some things too. It was almost like Namjoon was... ready for this? He told me to just get everyone out.”
“But how did they find us?” you frowned.
Turning down the corridor where Namjoon’s office lay, you saw Jungkook was right. The doors all stood open, nothing but darkness beyond.
Jungkook led you both to the end of the hall. You had never been here before, but somehow it hadn’t crossed your mind to question Jungkook about where you were going. He eased to a stop beside you then, unable to help a glance over his shoulder. Just in case.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, meeting your eyes. His shoulders slumped and he frowned to himself, shaking his head. “I mean, there was the car you saw tailing you guys. Maybe there were more. They tried again, or-”
There was no way either of you could know right now. It wouldn’t change anything.
Turning himself from that line of thought completely, Jungkook dropped your hand and approached the wall. You bit your tongue, your fingers retracting straight away at the lack of his warmth. It had felt strange, standing still and yet holding hands – no, not holding hands, but… grabbing. Out of necessity.
It just hadn’t crossed his mind to let go. You ignored the fact that once upon a time, it would have been the only thing either of you thought about until you could finally be rid of the other.
Shaking your head, you almost wiped your hand on your trousers. You stopped, for some reason, and just ran your thumb over your fingers instead.
In front of you, Jungkook reach for a fire extinguisher fixed to the wall. Raising your eyebrows, you prepared to tell him that the place really was past repairing, when he pushed down on it instead.
It moved, something clicking into place out of sight. In a blink, a square had emerged in the blank wall, and Jungkook pushed it out. A panel swung inwards, revealing empty space beyond.
Lifting a leg to swing inside, Jungkook turned to you with a smirk. It was your turn to be stunned.
“That sure is helpful,” you muttered, before starting forwards.
A bright laugh came from Jungkook as he hopped down into the passage.
“Namjoon-hyung really thought of everything.”
Humming your assent, you climbed through the opening. Jungkook secured the panel back into the wall. For a moment, you were submerged in total darkness, only sensing the click of your hiding place being concealed.
A weak light filtered to life above you after a few seconds of waiting. It illuminated Jungkook, who was looking up, clearly anticipating its arrival.
“Right.” He met your eyes, and swallowed. The space here was much thinner than outside, the walls forcing you nearer. “Let’s get moving.”
Nodding rapidly, you waited for him to turn and lead you on. Once his back was safely to you, you let out a breath, feeling your heart winding down in your chest. Some adrenaline trip you had been on, huh?
“Where are we going?” you asked, hurrying after him. Something about this place made you hush your voice, however illogical that was.
“It should get us a safe distance away,” Jungkook replied over his shoulder, “Namjoon had time to give me this. We’ll head to the coordinates he sends.”
The emergency lighting in the tunnel was sparse, and as you walked you fell through light and shade. Currently in a patch of darkness, you squinted to make out a small pager screen which Jungkook held up to show you.
So you carried on. With no idea where you were, or what was going on, you probably should have been freaking out a lot more. But right now, you had a direction. Somehow, following Jungkook eased your concern. You were glad he was the one with you...
Wow, that was something you shouldn’t admit out loud. You eyed the man in front of you, as if worried he could have read your thoughts. He only kept walking.
Eventually, the passage gave way to a set of industrial-looking metal stairs. Together, your footsteps clanged gently against the comfortable quiet.
At the top, you found a door made of thick metal. A grate set into it at eye-level let in the buzz of traffic beyond – and sirens.
Ahead of you, Jungkook peered through the small gaps, before stepping back to make way for you. He met your eyes with the same concern you felt. Was it safe for you out there? Looking down at yourself, you took in your attire. Neither of you were wearing anything particularly distinctive, having been surprised at home.
“Let’s not chance it,” Jungkook interrupted your thoughts, but you could hear the frustration concealed in his voice. Neither of you much fancied sitting around doing nothing at a time like this.
Better that than blowing the whole thing up by being hasty, though. You had learned that the hard way.
The passage widened, but not enough to sit face-to-face. So, agreeing with Jungkook, you joined him and sat at his side on the top step.
It was impossible not to feel his eyes on you. Or the weight of his arms from where he had hugged you, lingering like a phantom. Having him so close only teased what you had just felt, the gentle warmth where your shoulders brushed sending ripples over your skin.
“Your face,” Jungkook spoke, “it’s better.”
Swallowing, you lifted your head from the surface of your thoughts and back into his eyeline.
Sure enough, when you lifted a hand, there was no need for the trepidation in your fingertips. No pain returned your touch. The skin was totally smooth where Monsoon had broken it yesterday.
“This lifestyle does have some perks, then,” you shrugged.
Jungkook’s smile rewarded you.
“Hey, you wouldn’t change it for the world,” he retorted jokingly, elbow nudging your arm.
You gave a small chuckle, but it soon faded into a more distant smile.
“No,” you sighed. “I really wouldn’t.”
“That… that’s good.”
You had never really heard Jungkook fumble for his words like this before. Maybe his mind was elsewhere, like yours. Although ‘elsewhere’, in your case, was directly on him; you just couldn’t tell him that. Among all this chaos, it made no sense that he was the thing dominating your mind.
“Thank you for trusting me,” you offered into the newfound quiet.
Though Jungkook let the silence stretch out a little longer, one lone siren soaring through it, he found his voice eventually.
“I should have done it sooner.”
Turning to him fully, your heart threatened to burst again with the earnestness in his eyes.
“You did it at exactly the right time,” you shook your head, adamant, “and… it’s good to know I earned it. Just about, in any case.”
You couldn’t help the joke creeping in. Giving into your cowardice, you ducked with a self-depreciating laugh from the force of his gaze. A force all too soft for you to know what to do with. When he gave you fire, you could push back with something just as solid. But here, with his defences long abandoned, all you were met with was the terrifying prospect of falling right in.
“Hey!”
The hard edge that crept back into Jungkook's voice, surprising you with his ferocity, was almost a relief. But the spark in his eyes that trapped you in his stare wasn’t of anger. Something far from it.
“You’ve earned more than-”
His words choked off. It was only now you realised how breathless you were.
You were quickly giving in to the pull of his gravity, the words floating unsaid only dragging you in further.
Eclipsed by him as you were, you hardly registered the warbling siren that drew nearer outside, and passed by. All you could see was the way Jungkook’s eyes slipped treacherously downwards.
At the peak of the siren’s volume, he drew the smallest gasp, pushing himself away. Hands bracing on the step, he hovered, breathing harder now.
The way your heart lurched at the thought he might leave right now sealed your fate.
His eyes met yours with vaguely panicked apology. Before he even spoke, you had made up your mind.
“Sorry,” he breathed, “I shouldn’t-”
Some of the steely determination he always stirred up in you made itself known. You needed him to hear, to see how certain you were of this.
“I think you should.”
In one frozen moment, you saw the reservation flee from his eyes. Rising temptation replaced it. His own hunger terrified him, but yours matched it, always, since the beginning.
You felt the moment he gave in. Felt it in the fingertips on your jaw, the heat rushing through you- the lips on yours.
In one movement, Jungkook had allowed himself to fall, and fall he did. He surged towards you, taking your face between his hands, kissing you with a blistering urgency. The vigour in his movements drowned out all trace of caution, everything flung aside the instant you kissed him back.
He needed to feel you.
Your body sang against his, warmth erupting in your chest. Every move of his lips stirred it further. Supple, like the rest of him, their softness belied the power there which he had never hid from you.
You relished it, the exhilarating force making your head spin. And you gave back equal fire, too, grazing his lower lip with your teeth. It summoned an electric sound from his throat, a grunt that accompanied his hands roaming further, hungrily running down your back, tugging you onto him.
He tasted gold.
It was a taste you knew, from his powers when he had trained you, when he had rescued you- yet so tantalisingly new in the way he gave himself to you now, painting it in laves along your mouth.
His desperate sigh, ripped from his lungs, told you he was being ruined the same way you were from this kiss. And you weren’t ready for it to end. You had no idea how long you drank him in, surrendering like you had to no one else. Your world was lit only by the glow his every touch made bloom on your skin: his arms around you, his lips, his tongue pressing between them and making your eyes flutter back.
You had repelled each other for so long. Now, at last, you had given in to the magnetism, and you could no longer bear an inch of space between you.
Even as you split apart, panting hot across each other’s faces, you welcomed the way Jungkook kept you pressed flush against his chest. Dozens of times, you succumbed to each other’s pull again, lips colliding to indulge in a desperate one-more, becoming two and three and...
Each a brief, fruitless struggle to escape the force drawing you together.
It had been there all this time.
You drew back again, panting, in time to see a crackle of gold spark in Jungkook’s heavy-lidded eyes. It mingled with a jet of your own, reflected blue dancing with the gold in his iris.
Stiffening, you remembered all the times your power had turned him away. The way he had run from you when you last lost control. The dreadful truth he had told you last night, about what Bolt’s power had done.
But his hands only clawed over your sweater, dragging you nearer again as he stared up at you with such open eyes.
“Fuck,” his voice was raw, barely more than a ragged breath, “you were right, Y/N. They are beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
Every time, you never expected Jungkook to stun you more. Of course, he outdid himself at every turn, leaving you scrabbling for words again, as you were right now.
Eyes drinking in your gaping expression, his loosened into a grin. The lazy shift into a deep, breathy laugh was like the sun coming out. You refused to look away.
You couldn’t refuse when his arm tugged you back against his chest, though.
Flopping there with a breathless laugh of your own, you closed your eyes, pushed your face against his neck. The energy to question this, to resist what had been building, had abandoned you, and you were ready to accept it.
How could you not, when his touch made you feel like this? When you had proved yourselves to one another time and time over?
You realised it all now, as you listened to the mingled sounds of your breathing with Jungkook’s.
You realised something else, too.
The sirens had stopped.
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Thank you for reading!!! I appreciate all those lovely people who leave comments🥰💜
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genericpuff · 6 days ago
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Looking back on it, Rachel really should have called Lore Olympus something else. It really doesn't seem to want to focus on 'lore' or 'olympus' and would rather be a romance with her self insert and celebrity crush. So many plot points and characters got thrown away for her two characters. It reminds me of Twilight having interesting background characters (Rosalie deserved better) and an interesting supernatural world. Yet Stephanie just focused on the dry ass romance of Edward and Bella.
I mean, the title totally worked in the beginning, the comic just lost the plot after its first season and became more like what you're describing, a weird May December romance about a girl who's only empowered enough to wait until marriage with the first guy she ever crushed on before having sex 💀
And yeah true that, a lot of fantasy dark romances like Twilight suffer from the issue of getting too hyperfocused on the main couple doing stuff and not paying enough attention to the actually interesting stuff going on around them. Though I will say, in Twilight's case, a lot of the "interesting stuff" was grossly misrepresented from Indigenous tribes and beliefs so... maybe it's for the best Stephanie didn't expand too much on it all in the end LMAO
Of course, the same can be said for LO, there were some really interesting plot hooks happening around H x P, but by the time S2 rolled around, all of those hooks got shoved under the bed until it was time to hastily wrap them up for those of us who were waiting to see them resolved. I think the Hera and Echo plotline was one of the worst culprits for that, you can tell in S2 she had an idea for some kind of "double agent" story with Echo where Echo would slowly come around to Hera's side and have to choose between her and the job Zeus clearly hired her for (to spy on Hera) - but then it just wound up skipping all that so we could watch Hades and Persephone play golf with diamonds, go shopping, and fuck around in the Underworld, until Rachel had to suddenly wrap up the entire Hera x Echo story in the most rushed, confusing way possible just a handful of episodes before the end.
LO had a lot of interesting concepts and ideas especially with the added benefit of it being based off myths that many readers were already familiar with, but unfortunately they were in the hands of a terrible writer working for a terrible company that didn't provide her with the resources she needed and could have really benefited from to tell a better story. It clearly needed a more involved editing process, more drafts to work through and scrap and work through again, more time to really plan out the full skeleton of the story, but what we got instead was more like a rushed first draft that spent more time on the bland uninteresting DDLG couple because they were clearly the easiest things Rachel could write about - fantasy shipping scenarios of them talking romantically to each other, making out, and having sex, boom, plot 🥴
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crazyskirtlady · 20 days ago
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The Dragon's Eye Amulet
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genderfluid! reader X human male
content: you are a demonic entity, shape shifted into an amulet of power, you grant the wearer of your amulet wishes of their desires...for a price
warnings: demon, shape shifting, fem&male genitalia, yandere vibes, forced/coerced, bondage, pain, blood, gawk gawk 5k, le anale penetratíon
From the moment he picked up the amulet that contained you...
Immediately you could see the vanity in his eyes, the shallow desires that filled him are what attracted him to the cursed amulet, to you, in the first place, and you gleamed knowing he would be perfect to feed upon.
Prihyom purchased the gold, dragon shaped, red jeweled bauble from the glib salesman (an associate of yours) who confidently promised it would empower the wearer with all they could desire and more...
He took the amulet home and adorned himself, prancing about his room admiring his reflection. And you exuded aura from the sparkling gem, a glamour he could see and feel...
He couldn't take you off, the red and gold necklace suited him so perfectly, emboldened him and he could hardly keep his hands off the intricate design and bejeweled filigree. He took out his phone and admired himself again and again in the screen. And you glowed brilliantly, fueling his pride into conceit.
Prihyom could not even take the amulet off to sleep, and stoking it as he lay in bed he dozed in and out of sleep, and you whispered to him...
"Tell me what you most desire..."
Clutching the amulet in his hands he mumbled softly, asking to be even more handsome, he wanted to become achingly, stunning beautiful!
And of course you obliged him.
The next days everyone who saw him fawned on him, commenting on his pleasing features, dewey smooth skin, eyes bright as copper, hair black as night. Prihyom was beside himself in amazement, his physical transformation was like a miracle!
But it wasn't enough of course, having had a taste of your power Prihyom felt the amulet to be something otherworldly. He could feel your presence, though he did not know it was you yet. And so, in bed, in the dark of the night, stroking the amulet, he murmured to you, about being the most popular and most liked among his peers. He wanted to have the charm to become affluent and adored!
And of course you obliged him.
And the next days you watched as he was flooded with a thousand new friends, dates, party invitations, engagements of all types. And he was so happy, busy enough that he seemed satiated...but only for a bit.
Because he was again clutching you, clutching the amulet in the night whispering to you in a desperately needy voice, oh! He wanted wealth now! Wanted people to throw money at him! And now you chuckled to yourself knowing he was irrevocably bound by your power as you again granted his demand.
In the next days an offer was made for him to become an entertainer, with his tantalizing good looks, his supernatural charm and smile, all it took was a wink and a flick of his silky mane to have people sending money to him in all forms.
With his newly acquired wealth he stepped into a better quality of life. Bigger lodging, fancier decor, amenities to impress his many friends and many more eager lovers...
Now Prihyom knew without a shadow of doubt that his amulet was magickal, that you were powerful magick and he was filled with greed for whatever he could summon from you. He was hungry for more!
More!
Now the time was ripe.
It was time for him to pay the price for all he had asked of you...
In the night your spirit poured like a mist from the amulet, transmogrifying gold into flesh, jewel into bone and teeth and eye. Standing over Prihyom sleeping peacefully in his bed you grin and stretch oh! It has been awhile since you have taken on a physical form!
Glancing down at your fearsome visage you decide perhaps a more feminine form would be preferable in this instance. Smoothing your skin, sprouting long flowing hair, shaping delicate, feminine features vaguely similar to his own; as Prihyom had become quite narcissistically vain.
Sitting down in the bed next to him, you reach out and run your fingers along his jaw, cupping his chin you tilt his head back slightly so you can examine his handsome face closely. The small movements make him grumble and stir, his hand grasping yours in a half conscious reflex. His eyes open and focus on you in confusion, he startles and tries to sit up but you have already weighed him down with your presence, demonic paralysis now makes his jaw drop and his uplifted hand slump down.
You chuckle and click your tongue at him.
"My dear, sweet Prihyom, you didn't even bother to question the powers of the amulet that granted your every whim, and now..." You grin wickedly and watch growing fear widen his eyes. You reign in your power, allowing him the freedom to gasp and cough.
"Who...are you?" He manages to choke out the words.
"Now you ask ah? The golden amulet you wore everyday for weeks? It was I that granted your plaintive wishes no? Gave you everything your little heart desired." You stroke his face, letting your fingers linger on his lips.
"You?! The dragon necklace is...was you?! This whole time you were trapped within? Listening to me?"
"Not trapped, just a different form, and I didn't just listen, oh no...I watched you as well..." Your voice lowered to a husky whisper as you trail your hand through his silky black hair and watch a deep blush redden his cheeks. Quickly Prihyom turned away from your touch to hide his face.
"Aww, did I not give you everything you asked for?" You pout at him while he stutters
"I didn't...I mean I don't...well yes...but I couldn't have known the necklace was...was you?"
You lean close to him and notice his breathing speed up, you can hear his heart racing and it makes you smile in excitement.
"Aren't you satisfied with everything I have done for you?" You let your mouth hover over his while he pants and gulps air, his chest is heaving and sweat is starting to bead on his forehead. His cheeks are bright red now.
"What...what are you doing? What are you going to do!?" If he could, he would be thrashing, but your power holds him still.
"You didn't think I did all that for free did you? My dear, I feed off of you in exchange for what I gave!" You press your lips over his and suck the air right out of his lungs, pulling his face tightly against yours as you force your tongue into his mouth. Prihyom grunts, struggling to turn his face away again.
You pull back, anger reverting your hands back to their large, scaled form, grabbing his face firmly you stare intensely into his eyes.
"You are already mine Prihyom! From the first wish I granted you we became linked inexorably! If you want to break our partnership, then I will simply revoke all that I have granted to you!" You growl at him, letting him see your true demonic form for but an instant, power raging like fire inside your eyes.
Prihyom gasps and swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut against the image of your demonic form. You relax your features back into the pleasant mask you created for him. Stroking his head with your human hands you plant a kiss on his forehead.
"Don't fear me, I have been watching you all these months and have enjoyed doing everything I did for you. And I can do even more..."
"...if you will let me..."
You can sense him thinking about all the wonderful luck and prosperity that has befallen him since you came into his life; his physical transformation, his popularity, his charm, his wealth...
His eyes open tentatively and, seeing you gazing at him in such a lovely form he can't help but blush again.
"What...what will you do to me?" Prihyom whimpers, fear fills his voice, but his body betrays him, you can feel heat and tension building... elsewhere in him...you smile again and he knows you are well aware of his conflicting feelings.
"Oh I think you already know what I will do with you, don't you?" You push your body up against his, letting him feel the soft curves of your human form. You slid one hand under his shirt and up his chest, allowing a single claw to manifest itself, making a thin scratch into his skin, just enough to sting a bit, not enough to draw blood...yet...
Prihyom yelps, his breathing growing erratic again as you press his body into the bed underneath you, listening to his racing heart, feeling the heat radiating from his groin against yours. You twirl a finger into his hair and lock eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze has him hypnotized. Slowly you bring your lips to his and kiss him softly, savoring his taste again and again with small, sensual kisses that leave him breathless.
Sitting up you staddle his body between your thighs, and with a flick of your wrist all clothes are gone, nothing between your skin and his but air and heat. Prihyom nearly hyperventilates, taking in the entirety of your human form and you allow yourself a little giggle of pride for creating such an alluring physical shape after so many years of not having made one at all!
"You like what you see? I fashioned it just for you!"
You grab his limp hands, still paralyzed by your power, and guide them along the soft skin of your thighs, up your stomach and chest, pausing to hold them against your ample breasts. Prihyom moans, able to feel everything and not able to so much as twitch a finger. You delight in his helplessness, sliding his fingers gently along your nipples. It feels so good you grind your hips down against his body and hear him gasp and moan. Watching his face fill with desire as you lick and suck his finger, feeling his need as a growing firmness where your body and his meet. You lean down to kiss him deeply, his tongue meeting yours eagerly now. You devour his mouth in yours, drinking in his growing lust for you as a fine wine. Freeing him from the paralysis just enough to indulge him, Prihyom instantly wraps his arms around you and bucks his hips upward trying to bring the warm hollow of your body against his hard shaft. You immobilize his body completely again and laugh at his groaned frustration.
Now, you shift your form just a bit, and using your whip-like prehensile tail you firmly pin his arms above his head as your demon tongue lashes against his neck and slides downward, licking and tickling at the inner fold of his arms until he squeals, then flicking around his nipples making him whine nervously. You tease and suck his nipples until they are hard little nubs.
You know exactly what he wants, as you move lower on his body, feeling his muscles tense under the paralysis hold you still have on him and when your long, thick tongue begins to wrap around the hardened, aching shaft of his desire, Prihyom lets out a deep moan. You swallow his whole member with ease and swirl your tongue around and over the sensitive tip. Wanting to feed deeply upon his lust you again release your hold on his body and he is immediately thrusting desperately into your throat, his hands struggling against the strength of your tail. Your extra long tongue slurps the whole length of his shaft and curls down towards the more tender organs below. You can feel his legs trembling, his muscles tensing as he nears the peak, glancing up you watch his eyes roll back, his breathing all but stopped as he loses himself in ecstasy. You can taste him, swallowing his very essence, you drink in his vitality and feel it stoke your power like coal in a furnace.
As his body goes limp from expending himself you quickly flip him over, burying his face in the bed. Allowing yourself to partially revert to your demonic form you grab his hips in your large scaled hands, drawing a yelp from him as you plunge your huge tongue deep into his most intimate hole. He is howling like a madman while you tongue fuck him, your drool dripping down between his cheeks gripped tight in your claws. You feel him loosening up, thrusting himself back onto your tongue with eager abandon, chasing the wild throbbing feeling of your tongue stimulating his g-spot. You quickly draw back, making him whimper, loudly needy. As you position your even larger demonic appendage between his dripping wet cheeks, you pause, letting him feel the size difference of your monstrous phallus. Before he can turn or struggle you grip his hair and shove him down into the bed, thrusting yourself deep into his body at the same time. The mattress muffles his wailing as you slide your wickedly barbed shaft in and out of his tight hole, his muscles spasm, squeezing you so tight you stop moving and just enjoy the feel of his body struggling underneath you. Controlling the tip of your phallic appendage as easily as you could your finger or tongue, you find his sweet spot again and apply pressure to it as you grind your hips into his backside. It's all too much for Prihyom, he screams into his bed, his body shuddering as he cums again. The way his body clenches around your shaft as he bucks in ecstasy sends you over the edge as well. A terrifying roar bursts from your chest as you cum with him, your claws grip his skin too tightly, drawing blood in 5 fierce lines across his thighs. You fill his hole with your hot load and collapse atop him, nearly crushing him with your demon form. Panting and breathless you still manage to keep some sense and bring your body back to your smaller human form, but keep your demon phallus buried deep in him for a moment longer.
When you finally release him and roll off his back he is so silent you fear for a second you might have suffocated him! But then he too rolls over gasping for air, tears in his eyes. His beautiful hair is a tangled mess and his gorgeous face is red and marked from being shoved into the bed. You grab his shoulder firmly and pull him into an embrace, smattering his face with kisses.
"Is...our partnership... maintained...?" Prihyom gasps out. A deep rumbling laughter vibrates inside you.
"Yes indeed my sweet." You cradle him in your arms, despite your current smaller form your presence envelopes him completely, holding him as physically as your paralysis had. You stroke his hair mindlessly, listening to his breathing slow, thinking he has fallen asleep.
"You are frightening...and incredible...I...I like our... partnership..." He sleepily mumbles into your arms.
You chuckle softly, caressing his face.
You suddenly feel his hand on your lower appendage, still in demon form. He thumbs the barbs and bumps, all soft and limp now.
"I like this part as well." He admits shyly.
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