#and definitely a lot of ‘we should’ve seen more of this’

[valewritessss]

This fandom is so nit-picky that I’ve seen more criticism on every little thing about wottg (a book that came out 2 days ago) than people saying things they liked about it

Edit: someone has already gotten mad so I repeat this is a joke and not that deep❤️

[verstappen-cult]

Having an argument with Max, sounds exhausting. Especially when both of you are stubborn, but guess what? He'd willingly beg for forgiveness if you are still upset with him and avoiding him as a result of the argument

“I can’t do this anymore.” You whisper, shaking your head and taking a step back. 

That is what finally makes Max stop dead in his tracks, mouth hanging open with whatever he was going to say next. 

You’re tired. You woke up less than an hour ago and the first thing you and Max did was argue. And you really didn’t want to start the day this way, but neither of you backed away. Things escalated quickly and you just can’t do it anymore. 

“What are you talking about?” He sounds desperate, his chest heaving. Max clenches his fists by his side, like he wants to reach out. 

You turn your head away, eyes filled with tears. “I’m gonna go see my mother. We’ll talk later.” 

Max feels paralyzed, he can’t seem to do anything but watch you leave. 

*

It’s past eight when you get home. 

The first thing you notice is that the house is lit only by candles. A lot of candles throughout the house. 

Max is nowhere to be seen, Jimmy and Sassy are the ones greeting you by passing between your legs. You bend over to pat their heads and give them a few ear scratches. 

The more you walk into the house, the more your heart breaks. There on the table is a big bouquet of your favorite flowers along with a small card with the word ‘sorry’ written in Max’s handwriting waiting for you. The table is also set with the chinaware you only use on special occasions, and a few more candles. 

When you turn around you see Max curled up on the sofa, your favorite weighted blanket —the one you use when you’re feeling down and Max is away for work— around his shoulders. He looks so cozy, you want to curl up next to him, but you are still a little hurt and angry from the argument you two had in the morning. You’re thinking about what you both said to each other when Max stirs, eyes trying to adjust to seeing in the dim light. 

“Hey,” You say as a greeting, trying not to scare him. 

Max turns around immediately, surprise crossing his features. “You’re home.”

“Yes? Sorry I didn’t say anything but mom wanted me to help her with gardening.” You shrug, leaving your bag and keys on the table next to the couch. 

“I didn’t think you’d come back.” His voice is barely a whisper, but you hear him anyway. Max exhales deeply, clutching the blanket tightly around his shoulders. 

“What?”

“I’m so sorry.” He blurts out, shoulders slumped. Max shuts his eyes tightly, like he’s in so much pain he can barely have them open. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I should’ve listened to you—I’m really sorry. I don’t want us to argue like that again, I felt horrible because I love you and I promised myself I would never do something like this.” You let him talk, to spill everything he has inside of him. “After you left—I wanted to go after you but I knew you needed time. But it made me remember how my dad used to talk to my mom, how they would yell at each other while Vic and I hid in our rooms.” You are already moving towards him, even before you hear how his voice breaks. 

You sit by his side, leaving some space between you two, hands itching to reach out and touch him, to draw him closer to you and hold him. 

“I don’t want to be like him.”

“You’re nothing like him,” You move closer, taking his hands with yours, thumb caressing the back of them. “Don’t you ever dare to go there, okay? You will never be like him, Max. Do you understand?” 

But he doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t say anything. 

“Max, this is not the first and it’s definitely not going to be the last argument we have. But if we talk about it, if we give ourselves some time to think things through like we did today—this doesn’t mean you are a bad person, or that you are turning into your dad.” You cup his cheek with one of your hands, caressing his cheekbone as you look into his stormy blue eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” He says again, tears in the corners of his eyes. You smile softly at him when he begs for your forgiveness again. 

“Can you forgive me too?” 

“Darling, you’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

“Well, you’re wrong there.” You sniff, already feeling the tears wanting to stream down your face. “We were both wrong, don’t take all the blame.” Max opens his mouth to refute, but you shut him up with a kiss. It’s chaste, full of promises, and leaves you with blood pounding in your ears. 

“Do you forgive me?”

Max nods, gaze fixed on your lips. “Yes,” He directs his gaze back to your eyes, and you can see so much regret in them. “Do you forgive me?” 

“I don’t know,” You tease him by pretending to think about it. “it depends on what you made for dinner.”

A grin spreads across his face and he’s standing up in a second, tugging on your sleeve. “It’s definitely gonna make you forgive me.” He says, pulling the chair out for you to sit. “And if this doesn’t work, I have many other ways to make you forgive me.”

[bitchlessdino]

boo-ty call 👻 (m)

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.”

[slut4menig]

Guys my age

Paring: Luke Castellan x Curvy AphroditeFem! reader

Req: hii can you please write a prompt in which Luke is 19 and reader is 16 and he thinks the age gap is too much as doesn’t see her as anything more than the kid he is counselling, but she’s an Aphrodite child so she doesn’t mind the chase, you can make it smut or not iyw!! also do you maybe mind making the reader like chubby/curvy? i love your work!! 🫶🫶 - 💜 Anon

ofc u can be!!! also omg i actually kinda hate this but whatever… hope u enjoy!

Warnings: MDNI, big age gap, cursing, drinking, use of smoking, reader implied to be curvy

Luke Castellan, a 19-year-old at the infamous Camp Half-Blood, stood tall and pretty almost like a loyal dog, and that made it near impossible for anyone to resist his charm, he’d had a go at almost all of the girls at camp half-blood, including all of my beautiful half sisters.

His unruly curly brown hair framed his handsome face, and deep brown eyes, which seemed to look straight into my soul whenever he gave me a task, even something as simple as asking to clean my dorm, held a hint of mystery. A small scar on his upper cheek added an intriguing touch to his otherwise perfect appearance. Luke is the epitome of a golden boy, capturing the hearts and attention of girls of all ages, young and old.

I’m only 16, luke had never dare even batted an eye at me last year but this year, I came back to camp, determined for a chance to stare into those beautiful eyes and have it mean something for him too. Since last year, i’d started to… well develop. My body had formed into a nicer shape, i certainly grew into myself. My chest was definitely a lot bigger, I started using normal bras, no more training ones. My thighs were thick and beautiful, something many men wished to be suffocated with.

“hey gorgeous girl, you’ve certainly grown up” My half sister Silene winked at me, I only ever see her at camp and I was packing my stuff into my bed. I rolled my eyes and huffed at her.

“Silene seriously? i haven’t seen you in a year and that’s the best you’ve got?” I immediately hug the girl as she chuckles quite a bit at my sharp tongue, we all start talking to our other half siblings and that’s when one of them goes

“hey y/n, you do realise you’re now technically old enough to be going to the bonfire party?” my half sister smirked

The bonfire party was tradition, 16 and up campers, it involved heavy amounts of marijuana, alcohol and other illegal shit. It was an excuse for people to get drunk and hook up and deeply regret it the next morning or so i’ve heard. It’s almost like a “back to school” party but instead it’s back to camp. It happens on the one night that Chiron is away and Mr D is in charge, of course, you bribe him with some alcohol and suddenly everyone’s happy.

“yeah uhh i’ll go, we should start getting ready then i guess?” i say, a bit on edge of what’s about to happen.

As i’m getting ready, i’m being handed a black lacy corset top showing off my double d tits extremely well, i look in the mirror and smirk, this is one of those times i KNOW i looks good. I wore a mini skirt along with it, sure i looked like a slut but hey? what can you do?

I enter the Bonfire, the glow of the fire casually illuminating my face in a perfect light. In hand was a red solo cup with… tequila and some other concoction i’ve been handed, i take a sip and spot him. Luke Castellan, my camp counsellor and the man I was practically already on my knees for. He made his way over to me and looked me in the eyes.

“Y/n? wow you look… grown up” His eyes clearly wandered around my tits a lot more than they should’ve, and he almost looked as if he scolded his self for looking but i wanted him to, this whole outfit was for him

“oh yeah? in what way?” i smirked and slightly tilted my head, trying to seduce the boy infront of me

He cleared his throat and came back to eye contact “You’re uh.. you’re taller” no i wasn’t, it was a blatant lie, i hadn’t grown an inch over the year, i knew what he was talking about and smiled to myself about it.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Luke and I both turn our heads to a very drunken silene who’s perched up on the table, some guy with his arms wrapped around her waist and mouth colliding with her jaw.

And who was anyone to say no to my beautiful sister? Soon everyone found themselves sitting in this circle, bottles of Tequila, Vodka, Whiskey, Jäger and other liquors in the middle of the circle, ready to be there for whoever backed down from a dare.

“Clarisse, truth or dare” An Apollo girl slurred, looking into clarisses eyes from across rhe circle. Clarisse smirked and in return took a sip of her drink.

“Dare” It wasn’t surprising, her choosing dare.

“I dare you, to kiss me” the apollo girl smirked at clarisse, they obviously had tension and clarisse made her way over and kissed her, passionately i might add. The entire circle cheered and cheered.

Clarisse suddenly averted her gaze to me, we’d been friends for a while now whenever I hung out with silene she would be there.

“y/n, truth or dare?” I felt myself nervously stare at her, a group of maybe 25 people waiting on my reply to this one simple question she’d asked. It wasn’t that hard of a question so i gave a simple answer.

“Dare” I wanted to play it safe, truth was too much for me right now, I knew it would end up in me having to tell a huge secret and I just wanted a casual night, nothing too crazy, which was why i was baffled as to what came out of Clarisses mouth next.

“I dare you to spend 7 minutes of heaven with the person you think is the hottest, and don’t try bullshit your way out of this lovebug” Clarisse was obviously feeling happy with herself, she was tipsy as one could be. Actually no, she was just shitfaced.

I felt my body begin to grow weak and i scanned my eyes across the room, except i found one thing. No matter how hard I looked around the room, my eyes were always drawn back to Luke castellan. The man himself.

“uhh luke…” I said, everyone cheered and Luke looked at me a bit confused as to why I’d chosen him. Nevertheless we walked into a secluded spot in the woods.

“Y/n I uh… why’d you pick me?” Luke looked at me as he leaned against a tree and i stood there looking up at him

“why not, they said to pick the hottest person there” I shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant.

“You do realise you’re far too young for me, sweetheart?” Luke muttered at me in a deepish voice.

“I know but what did three years ever do to anyone?” I smirked, it was time for me to use the powers my mother gave me and capture this boys beautiful heart.

“Y/n i- i was- no! still am, your camp counsellor, you don’t think this is a little weird? you coming onto me.. I mean, you’re hot but” Luke said conflicted with his own thoughts at this point.

“Oh would you shut up castellan I saw you looking at my tits earlier, don’t act like you’re surprised i’m coming onto you” I smirked at him, giving him doe eyes and fluttering my lashes

“you’re such a brat, you know that? you need to shut up, it will get you killed someday, that pretty mouth of yours” Luke furrowed his brows and almost scolded me

“how about you make me shut up?” I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered this seductively into his ear.

“oh I can think of a few ways” Suddenly I felt Luke’s warm tongue slip into my mouth, his deep kiss sending sparks to my pussy.

he pushes me against a tree, his hands roaming over my body possessively. “Fuck, you're so young and pretty, tell me, you ever fucked anyone?” Luke continued to say as he slipped his hands to the back bit of my corset top

“n-no, i’m all yours” i managed to breathe out, goosebumps trailing over my body from his cold hands unclasing my top.

His hands reach under my bra, feeling my soft skin. He leans in, kissing my neck, my collarbone, as his hands grope my breasts. His hot breath against my skin sends shivers down my spine. “that’s perfect pretty girl, let me take care of you okay?” luke then continued to kiss my forehead and unclasp my bra

He looks up at me, his eyes filled with desire. "You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now," he says, his voice low and husky. He starts to slip his hand up my mini skirt, his hands shaking slightly. “I bet your pussy is so tight and wet...”

i groan at his words, whimpering at the boys touch. “I- do it…”

“I can’t, I can’t ruin something as perfectly innocent as you” Luke looked at me in the eyes, piercing me with his gaze

“i’m less innocent than you think you know” I trailed my hands to unbutton his jeans and i watch his eyes widen

“what did you lie on your book log in elementary school?” he chuckled trying to distract himself from his hard on being revealed

“yknow i hump my pillow most nights wishing it was your dick” i whispered in his ear, i could feel the head flush on his face as his erection was poking into my thigh.

“fuck… pretty girl… that’s so hot, i wanna fuck you senseless, show you what a man is” he collided his lips to my collarbone and sloppily kissed it, his hands making his way to my soaked panties, rubbing it through them

“all soaked for me, pretty?” he looked up at me as i nodded, biting my lip to hold back a moan. I felt him slide my underwear off and crouch down, i felt the warmth of his hot breath against my sticky wet pussy, his tongue beginning to lap it, finding my clit and sucking on it with a pop.

I became a moaning mess, begging for mercy and for luke to continue fucking my hole with his tongue just the way he did. “mmmph~”

His hands spread my thighs wider apart as his mouth works its magic. His tongue swirls around my wet, throbbing flesh, sucking and licking with expertise. I can't help but moan loudly, my fingers tangling in his hair to pull him even closer. “Luke... please...”

He can feel my body shaking with need as he continues to eat me out, his own arousal growing with each moan that escapes my lips. He sucks my clit hard, his fingers sliding inside me, curves up to rub against my G-spot. “Come for me, baby...”

His fingers pump in and out of me in a rhythm that matches his tongue on my swollen bud. The sensations overwhelm me, and I dig my heels into his back, shamelessly bucking against his face as I shatter, screaming out his name. “Luke...Luke...”

As I reach my peak, something inside me breaks. I convulse hard, and suddenly, a rush of liquid gushes out of me, drenching Luke's face. He moans approvingly, lapping up every drop like a thirsty man.

I become red from embarrassment and stare at the man in horror.. “oh my god luke did i- did i just pee on you?” Luke did nothing but grin at me, his wet face glistening in the moonlight

“No baby, it’s called squirting and it was the hottest thing ever” he grabbed my hands away from my face

After cleaning me up with his tongue, Luke gently lifts my legs over his shoulders, positioning himself at my entrance. He looks into my eyes, his own filled with a mix of desire and tenderness. “Okay, beautiful girl, this is going to hurt, but I'll be gentle”

I look up at him, tears welling in my eyes. He smiles softly, "Good girl. It'll start feeling good soon, I promise." He leans down to kiss me, his hips pulling back slightly before pushing in again, deeper this time.

As he continues to move in and out of me, his pace picking up slightly, Luke leans down to take one of my hardened nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. His thumb finds my swollen bud, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. "Luke... oh god, Luke..."

I cry out as my orgasm hits, my vision blurring, my body trembling. Luke doesn't stop, fucking me through my climax, his own need evident in his face. "Fuck, pretty girl, you're so fucking tight right now. I can feel your little pussy squeezing me."

As he thrusts into me, his pace becomes erratic, his breathing heavy. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, Y/n. I don't know where to put it all," he groans, his eyes wild with need. "Where do you want it, huh?"

I gave Luke those oh so beautifully innocent doe eyes he’s currently corrupting, i batter my eyelashes and whimper as i speak

“I want you to do it inside of me luke” Luke’s eyes widen at the prospect but doesn’t have time and gives in.

“You’re lucky i can’t say no to those beautiful eyes of yours baby” With a low growl, Luke buries his face in my neck, his body convulsing as he spills inside me. He jerks his hips against me several times, unloading more and more of his warmth into my inexperienced core. "Oh gods."

He pulls out and we both lay there breathlessly.

“that was a lot more than 7 minutes…” i whisper sheepishly as i catch my breath and put my clothes on

“i’m sorry i had to be your first time… you do know we can’t be together right? i mean you should really be with a guy your age?” Luke refused to look in my eyes as he slipped his boxers on

“but guys my age aren’t… you”

[city-m0rgue]

i absolutely hate how Cherri Bomb was written in the new episode

i was really excited to see her in the episode but the way she peer pressured angel just made me really dislike her character

she says that angel has been “texting her his depressing shit all day,” so she knows what he’s going through, and when he says he’s too tired for a night out she doesn’t listen

when husk steps in when cherri offers angel drugs, cherri responds by calling him a “Buzzkill” and making fun of him being an alcoholic. husk was simply looking out for angel and if cherri truly cared about angels well-being she would understand that.

even after cherri puts husk down, angel still shows that he is uncertain about getting high with her. he once again tells her he’s exhausted from work to which she responds without empathy and just trying to keep getting him to get high until he finally agrees.

when angel is looking after niffty, cherri says “you’re supposed to be relaxing, not playing nanny!” and angel says “i just don’t want her to end up in the gutter like i used to!” and cherri belittles what he says by saying “whatever nerd.”

i was so excited to see cherri in this episode but she turned out to be a terrible friend to angel

edit: i just wanna say i think the way angel looked after niffty was adorable and i loved angel and husk being nifftys dads

edit: so my opinion on this had kind of changed. i do still think there should’ve been scenes where we saw her empathy more but now having seen later episodes i can say i am more fond of her character. she definitely needs some development (but so does everyone else), and i can’t say she’s my favourite, but my opinion has partially changed.

i think i was more so disappointed in the lack of emotion she showed. she’s addicted just like angel and is not as far in recovery as he is. and YES i have seen the addict music video and that is the main reason i am disappointed, because we see a lot more insight to her character in there.

i hope we get more emotional and/or empathetic scenes with cherri in the future and i really hope than if/when she joins the hotel her development will be healthy for both her and angel

[hugsandchaos]

Seeing Double

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Summary: A ghost who looks a lot like Phantom comes to him in search of protection, and their newest member instantly agrees. He calls her his little sister, and sooner or later, Phantom also might end up with a new brother.

*bangs pots and pans together* @vixen-uchiha, @starlightcat04, @blueliac, @lenacraft, @admiralwidow, @fuckingfaraway, @little-apricot-orchard, @sithlordchimchnga, @buymeanewlaptopty, @deeterzz, @jaylaxyart99, @phant0mc1d3, @idiosolcrasy, @dehydrated-bread, @rubber-ducky-your-the-one, @randomenglishmajor, @mushroomymoss, I MADE MORE JUICE!!!

For the past few weeks, Danielle had been staying in the Cave. After explaining the full story to Red Tornado, some of the details unknown to them for some reason, and he spoke with Batman, their friend’s clone had been given permission to live there. As long as she trained and or some sort of education. This was definitely acceptable to both ghosts. Danielle had started training, and not just with Phantom, and her brother would teach her a thing or two when they weren’t training.

Most of his lessons consisted of scenarios where she’d need to try to patch herself up incase she needed to, which she apparently didn’t know as well as he did. It was interesting how similar ectoplasm was to blood when it came to wounds. She wasn’t allowed on missions, though. That should’ve been obvious, but it actually surprised Danielle. It took a bit of arguing and convincing from Phantom to get her to understand, but she reluctantly stayed behind. She was bitter for a while and took her training a little more seriously after that. Overall, she was a great addition to her friend group.

At the moment, it was around 8:02 PM and Danielle was helping Megan cook dinner. Phantom was doing some kind of assignment on the couch with Conner sitting on the opposite end of the couch. Danielle moved around to catch the items and put them on the counter as Megan used her telekinesis to pull them from the fridge and pantry. Danielle nearly missed grabbing the glass jar of sauce, but caught it and placed it down carefully.”And, that’s all we need!” Megan said. She turned around and smiled seeing the ingredients neatly placed on the island counter.”Thanks for your help, Danielle.” She said.

The young ghost smiled.”No sweat off my back. Now how is this one made?” She asked. She enjoyed watching Megan cook, as odd as the Martian thought it was, and she hadn’t seen her use this recipe yet. Megan took another look at the tablet.

She used her telekinesis to open a cabinet and pulled a medium bowl out of it. She set it on the table as she also got a measuring cup.”We need to stir the ricotta cheese, 1/2 cup parmesan cheese, and eggs in this bowl and then set it aside.” She said. Both her and Danielle started on that first step.

On the couch, it was pleasantly quiet. Both boys left each other to their thoughts. Phantom had a notebook in his lap and a textbook set on the arm of the couch. Both the textbook and his handwriting were in a language that Phantom just settled on calling “ghost speak” since he didn’t know what else to call it due to the actual name of the language being surprisingly difficult to translate to English. Megan took a really wild guess and said that it could be a difference between being dead and being alive that made the translation difficult.

Right now, he was focused on that while Conner took the time to think. He had some conflicted feelings about the situation. On one end, he was happy. He had someone to relate to a little better. He saw that there were actually people who had good relationships with their clones, even taking them under their wing. He was more convinced that there was a chance that if his original saw the way they interacted, he might do the same.

On the other hand, however, he was jealous. Conner didn’t want to admit it, even to himself, but it was unfortunately true. He couldn’t even relate to Danielle on a level he wished he could because Phantom didn’t practically ignore her existence for her being his clone. It made him feel a little more alone than before. He also didn’t think that letting Superman meet Danielle was a good idea because Phantom was already mad at him because of what he said last time he was there.

He made the room’s temperature drop by around 20 degrees in a matter of seconds and didn’t take his eyes off the league member until he left. It was probably best to avoid both the argument that would undoubtedly happen between them and what he might say to Danielle if he found out she was also a clone.

“Are you okay?” Phantom spoke up. Conner blinked and turned to him.”Are you okay?” The ghost repeated. Conner nodded. This earned a look of suspicion from Phantom.

Oh. Right. The whole “smelling emotions” thing.

Conner briefly glanced back at the two girls chatting away, sharing stories about their experiences on Earth, then leaned in closer.”Are you going to let her meet Superman?” He asked in a hushed tone. Phantom’s gaze hardened.

He shook his head.”Absolutely not. I’d like to avoid it as much as possible.” He whispered. Conner was a little relieved to hear that. He opened his mouth again to tell him that he’d help him do that, but he was cut off.

“Hey, big bro? What happens if Megan eats ectoplasm?” Danielle called.

Phantom immediately shot up from the couch, knocking both his books and his pencil onto the floor.”No!!!” He instinctively shouted. He quickly flew over to Danielle and Megan to see if he needed to snatch anything from them. Megan laughed at him as he checked the counter. Conner couldn’t resist a small smile, either. It was pretty funny.

Danielle also laughed at him as Phantom realized there wasn’t any in the food or in their possession. He crossed his arms.”Ha, ha, very funny.” He said, obviously unimpressed. Danielle calmed down enough to speak.

“I know it’s funny! I wouldn’t actually give her ectoplasm.” She said. Phantom gave her a pretty disapproving look, but her smile didn’t falter.”I just wanted to annoy you.” She said. Phantom’s eyes widened and seemed more irritated than before. Danielle did her best not to laugh at him.

“You have five seconds to start running.” He said. The younger ghost quickly fled the room and Phantom waited, counting down from five out loud. Once he reached one, he went invisible and vanished from Megan’s and Conner’s sight.

Soon enough, they’d hear the pleading screams of a younger sibling being mercilessly chased by their older brother.

[avatar-anna]

Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist

April 2016

“Thank you for meeting me.”

Y/n settled into the seat across from Harry. Her hands curled tightly around her mug, apprehension seeping into her bones. “Of course.”

She had been surprised when Harry called her, asking to meet at the Beachwood Cafe. She hadn’t heard from him in months, not one call or text, not even an email. Not that Y/n really expected much when One Direction finally went on hiatus, but after zero communication, she wasn’t quite sure why he’d called her all these months later. 

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages,” Harry asked.

Y/n’s eyebrows raised a bit, but she answered him anyway after taking a sip of her coffee. “Fine, I guess. You?”

“Good!” Harry said excitedly. “Taking a break the last few months has been…I don’t know. Peaceful, but odd, you know? I’ve never had so much time to myself before.”

“Must be nice,” Y/n said, trying to hide the irritation in her voice.

“Yeah, but I realized that I kind of miss it,” he said. “I knew once we decided on the hiatus that I wanted to do my own thing, but I thought I would take a longer break, but I feel like I’m…itching to get back to work.”

That definitely seemed like Harry. Y/n had worked for him for years, and even when there were breaks between tours, he was hard at work—writing, going to Fashion Week, collaborating with other artists, vocal training, even trying new recipes in his state-of-the-art kitchen, which led to a phone call at one in the morning where Harry asked Y/n to come over and see if his macrons tasted "fluffy enough." It seemed only right that he rested for mere months before starting a new project. She could practically picture him at either of his homes in LA or London, scribbling in his leatherbound journal or playing new melodies on his guitar or piano (and the occasional late-night pastry party). As long as she’d known him, Harry had been a hard worker through and through. A little on the wild side when he had some tequila in him, but when it came down to his career, he was focused, determined. 

“Good for you,” Y/n said, meaning it. She always thought he was capable of more. “So what comes next for you? Have you recorded songs already?”

“Not quite. I’m planning a trip to Jamaica to write and record there. It’s remote, serene, a good place to get away. So we’ll have to start booking flights and places to stay and—”

“I’m sorry, ‘We?’” Y/n asked, her brow furrowing with confusion. 

Harry matched her look of confusion with one of his own. “Yeah, I mean—I need you. I can’t do this without you.”

The sentiment warmed Y/n’s heart for a moment, but his immediate assumption that she would drop everything just because he asked her to brought the irritation swarming back. “Mr. Sty—Harry, you know I don’t work for you anymore, right?”

“What do you mean? Are you talking about the hiatus? I just thought we could all use some time off, but…I guess I just thought—”

Harry didn’t finish his thought, but his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. Y/n would’ve found it cute if he hadn’t been so dense. Resentment still circled around her like a fog, and she wouldn’t let it go so easily, she couldn’t. 

“I was employed by your management, Harry. To be an assistant to a member of One Direction,” Y/n explained. “I was let go. I had to quickly find another job doing something else.”

“Oh.”

Y/n supposed she should’ve anticipated being fired, but she didn’t. There was a lot of information that she was privy to that most people weren’t, secrets that were tightly bound by an NDA when she was first hired, but talks of the hiatus was very hushed. She knew to suspect that somewhere down the line the boys would finally take a break, but it came a lot sooner than she was prepared for, and she was left jobless before she had the chance to line something else up. Y/n thought that Harry would give her the courtesy of a warning, but he said nothing about it to her, didn’t offer much except a side hug after One Direction’s last performance.

So yeah, she was a little bitter.

“I’m—I’m really sorry, Y/n. I know it doesn’t make up for…all of this and everything you went through, but I am truly sorry.”

���Thank you.” 

Y/n believed him, believed that he was sorry for everything that went down, but it still hurt to know she wasn’t someone he was close enough to talk to about all of this at the time. She was Harry’s assistant, she knew that, but they’d been through a lot together. But he was ever the professional it seemed, and it was her job to remember that, not his.

When she realized her coffee was finished, Y/n stood up. “Well, it was good seeing you, Harry. Good luck on your next project. I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“Wait, but—you’re not—you‘re leaving?”

“I have to run a couple errands before work," Y/n explained. She rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “But really, no hard feelings. I wish you all the best.”

She left Harry at the table, heading for the front of the cafe and toward the busy street beyond. Her heart felt heavy as she walked away, but she tried to shake the feeling that she was walking away from more than just her boss. Former boss. Like her mother always reminded her, she couldn’t be a personal assistant forever.

“Wait!”

Y/n turned on instinct, eyes widening as Harry jogged after her, his little bun bouncing with each step. He skidded to a stop in front of her, green eyes wide and searching. For what, she wasn’t sure, but the heat of his gaze was enough to make butterflies stir in her stomach.

Putting on her best front, she raised her eyebrows, waiting for Harry to say whatever he needed to.

“I wasn’t kidding earlier. I need you, Y/n,” he said. “I—You’re the only one who really knows me, who I know will have my back no matter what. I need a familiar face in my corner.”

I need you, Y/n. Those words were her kryptonite. Year after year, Y/n heard Harry's voice over the phone as he roused her from sleep, read the text messages while she was getting her nails done or watched TV in her hotel room, or on the rare occasion she went on a date. But she had to hold strong. Y/n had been devastated by her sudden layoff, but now she had a life, and she didn't want to get sucked back into Harry's very alluring web of charming smiles, cheesy jokes, and endless adventure. That was his life, not hers.

“I have a job, Harry. I can’t just drop everything and quit because you suddenly want me to—”

“What are they paying you?”

Y/n’s brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

Harry pushed on. “What are they paying you? I’ll double it.”

Scoffing in disbelief, she said, “It’s not about the money—”

“Triple,” he countered. Harry took her hand in his and squeezed it. He looks desperate, Y/n thought.

“I can’t just quit my job because you remembered I existed,” Y/n said quietly, pulling her hand out of his. She clung to her resolve, hoping Harry would make this easy and just let it go, let her go. “I—I deserve more.”

More of what, she wasn’t sure, but Y/n knew it was true. Harry only reached out because he needed something from her, and that hurt more than she cared to admit. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Harry said, looking down at his shoes. A pair of scuffed Chelsea boots he wore practically everywhere. Y/n had bought him a pair of Vans one year, an attempt to switch up his wardrobe, but he still chose the boots nine times out of ten. “Just—At least think about coming to Jamaica. Please?”

“Harry—”

“Not as my assistant. As a guest. A friend,” Harry amended. “We’re planning on staying at a huge villa, and I want to make up for being an idiot. Just—Just think about it. Please.”

Despite everything, Y/n found herself wanting to say yes. It was that magnetic pull she felt toward Harry that had kept her working for him for so long. He was an important person in her life, and up until he’d all but ghosted her after the hiatus, she thought she was important to him too. In spite of his misgivings, Y/n still wanted to believe that she was. 

It was so stupid, but it felt good to be wanted by him. She was an idiot, she knew that. But her friendship with Harry was legitimate, he'd just acted like a complete idiot. She'd known him long enough to know he was very capable of acting like an idiot. So even though she shouldn’t, even though she had carefully lined up her reasons not to in a little line, she started to cave. 

But she couldn’t make the decision now. Not when Harry was looking at her with pleading green eyes and his sad little puppy dog face, his cologne dizzyingly lovely. No, she owed it to herself to really think about what she wanted. If getting sucked back into that whirlwind was worth it. Worth getting her heart properly broken when she knew he would never feel the same about her.

"I'll show up at work, you know," Harry said. "I'm not above it. You might think I am, but I'm not."

Y/n had no doubt in her mind that he would. Along with being an idiot, Harry was very stubborn, and very persistent. She had years with him to know that. Did she really need Harry Styles showing up at her place of work?

“Fine, I’ll think about it,” she finally said, trying to pretend like her heart was screaming to just agree. But her heart was an impulsive little shit that was bound to get her in trouble.

Harry’s face broke out into a wide grin, one that displayed those famous dimples and lit up his entire face. It was hard to feel like he didn't think she was the only person on earth to exist when he looked like that, like he was convinced she’d already said yes. “I’ll take it.”

[wosoamazing]

Injured

warnings: vomit, injury

A/N: just a kind of random short fic, I hope you like it.

The throbbing in your head continues to worsen, your head feels like it’s going to explode with every beat of your heart. You feel sick to your stomach. Each tiny little movement in your body makes your stomach roll. Your ankle hurts, it’s almost definitely broken,  the medics have given Sam and Steph the Green Whistle to hold for you hoping you would use it but you have flatly refused it so far. The sick feeling in your stomachs starts to worsen, you lean the rest of your body weight into Sam in hopes it will help somehow, but it doesn’t, your face changes, a face Sam doesn’t recognise but Steph does, she quickly jumps into action.

“Do you have a bowl or something?” Steph asks the medics “She’s going to be sick,” to those words the medics swiftly hand her an emesis bag, and place a few more beside her just encase. You start to gag, as Steph brings the bag up to your mouth, you clearly in no state to hold it yourself, Sam rubs your back as you gag a few more times but nothing comes up, you let out a little whimper as you collapse back into Sam’s body. Tears start to roll down your checks and Steph rubs your arm in an effort to reassure you. You see the bright orange stretcher being carried on and your universe breaks, you have made it your mission not to have to use one but today you have no choice, even you know you need it, and to make everything worse Leah’s not here, maybe you should’ve chosen the Lionesses, in this moment it would’ve meant that you had your sister next to you. Your body starts to shake from your sobs, you try to speak but it doesn’t work. “Hey, hey, it’s okay take some deep breaths.” Steph says, you take four depth breaths following Steph’s lead.

“Le-Leah, I want Leah” you cry out.

“I know bug, but she can’t come right now, what if we face time her once we are in the medical room” you nod slightly at Steph’s suggestion.

“Okay we’re going to move you onto the stretcher now” one of the medics inform you, with quite a lot of pain and not much ease you were taken through to the medical suite, the medics did some scans before they took you to your team medical room in the back of the locker room. Steph sits behind you on the bed as you lean your weight into her, a boot wraps around your foot, tears stream down your face, to put it lightly the x-rays were not a fun time at all, although Steph and Sam might’ve had it worse, they stood outside the room as they heard you sob in pain wanting nothing more than to be in there with you comforting you, but they weren’t allowed too.

“Here she is,” Sam says as she walks back in.

“Hey bug how are you?” a familiar voice warms your ears. You don’t reply just smile which is enough for her, the familiar sound of her voice relaxes you as you doze off, Sam and Steph talk to her for a while before saying their goodbyes. The peaceful feeling in the room quickly evaporates when you wake up, you gag and Steph and Sam react quickly, Steph helps you sit up more and Sam grabs the emesis bag, but it’s too late, the contents of you stomach are all over you, the bed and unfortunately some is even on Steph, you burst into tears, which doesn’t help the situation as somehow you’re sick again, this time though Sam managed to catch it. Once the pair are happy, you’re okay and not going to be sick again, Sam goes to get a medic, and Steph leans you back into her, helping you take of your now vomit covered shirt. “S-Sorry” you cry out feeling terrible for what just happened. “Hey, its okay, it’s not your fault, you got hurt, okay?” you nod, which wasn’t the best idea as it starts to make the room spin. “Do you want to have a shower now? We can help, we’ll keep you in your undies and crop top” you give Steph a thumbs up.

Sam returns with a medic, “sorry” she says as they enter.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, this is nothing, I’ve seen patients do way worse” the medic replies.

“Um we were thinking of maybe getting a shower, is that okay, we will go in with her” Steph asks the medic, who smiles at her “Of course darling, just take the boot off and carry her down will probably be easiest. As she is alert and orientated, so I’m no too concerned about the vomiting, as it could be from the pain she is in,”

“Okay thank you.” Sam says to the medic.

“Okay, I’m going to slide out from behind you and Sam is going to take your boot off and I’ll pick you up and take you to the showers, okay” Steph lets you know their every move. “Thank-you” you whisper in her ear as she carries you, getting you showered wasn’t the hard part but getting you dressed was, after your shower Sam took over so Steph could have a quick shower, as much as you adored Sam the loss of the constant and familiar reassurance made you whimper, you sat in your locker while Sam put your boot on. Sam was about to help you move over to the bench in the locker room so you could be comfier when Steph came out of her record fast shower.

“Hey Sam,” Sam looked up, “I’m all done, I’ve got her now, go get a shower quickly then we can get on the bus before the rest come in” Sam nods. Steph picks you up and cradles you in her lap, and you start to doze off, Steph is relieved as she knows if you’re asleep you can’t feel the pain, she shots a quick message to Tony updating him and not long after Sam comes out. Sam gets all three of your bags packed up and they start to head out, Steph carrying you, Sam carrying all your stuff, they’re walking along the corridor when Steph suddenly stops.

“Steph, what’s wrong?”

“Do you have sunnies?”

“Um yeah I think I actually do,” she rummages through her bag and manages to find a pair, she slips them onto your face, and they start walking again.

They manage to climb onto the bus and into a set of seats, Steph sitting with her back against the window of the bus with you in her lap, leaning back on her. They are a set of four from the front as they know when the rest of the girls get on the bus it will be loud, not because of the girls but because of the press.

This time Sam messages Tony letting him know you’re on the bus and asking if he can get the girls to stay silent while they enter.

Just as Tony messages to let the girls know the game is finished and that the others are just having quick showers and they will be there soon, you wake up to an all familiar feeling, however this time your captains are prepared and know the signs, so Steph notices you and quickly holds up the emesis bag for you, in which you are relieved that you do not have to relive the events of earlier, once you are finished you start to cry, you hate being sick, Steph wraps her free arm around you trying to comfort you, Sam hands Steph a new emesis bag and takes the old one, she leaves the bus in order to find a bin in which she does and returns at the same time the girls start to show up. Sam again asks them to be quiet as the enter which they are more than happy to do for their little teammate, as they get on the bus, they all smile softly at you, not wanting to speak just encase, Harper gave you a very gentle hug as she boarded the bus with her Mum, which warmed everyone’s hearts. You had fallen back asleep before the bus started to move and slept the whole trip.

[jiarkives]

can I please request some cassian (acotar) x reader fluff? maybe he's been away on a long mission and he's finally home with his mate and he can't keep his hands off of her because he missed her so much ... (it can get smutty if you want) thank you!! xx

clingy

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ summary — your mate gets even clingier after being apart from you.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ character — cassian (a court of thorns and roses)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ content — fluff ; written with fem!reader in mind

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ notes — thank you for the request! i hope i did your idea justice hehehe also the ending is kinda wack jdhdhdhdhd my hand was on autopilot basically

~

Mor, Amren, and Nesta all looked annoyed, Feyre and Elain looked... uncomfortable, at most, while you could only smile awkwardly as you sipped your tea soundly, smacking your lips for effect as you put the cup down. “Lovely weather today, am I right?”

“Oh, cut it out!” Nesta grumbled, crossing her arms on her chest as she glared at you. Well, not at you, but rather at the male beside you.

“Aren’t we going to address the elephant in the room?” Mor spoke up as her eyes fell on your mate whose arms were wrapped around your waist and his face burrowed into the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. One would think he was asleep, but if they would looked closer, they would’ve seen the shit eating grin plastered on his face.

(The sisters were definitely rubbing off of the inner circle, especially with their figures of speech which were definitely confusing at first for the immortals.)

“Is that what you’re calling me now? An elephant?” Cassian picked his head up briefly from your neck to address the females in the garden with you. “I bet I could beat those creatures in a split second. Am I right?” He turned to the sisters with a cocky smirk, his eyebrows wiggling.

All of them ignored him, only looking at you with exasperated expressions. Feyre sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, Amren shook her head, Elain tried to look busy, while Nesta and Mor were practically fuming.

“You do understand the concept of a girls’ day, don’t you?” Mor addressed you, her eyebrows pinched together.

“Yes, of course–”

“Then tell this big, dumb pile of muscle to let go off you and fuck off.” Nesta glared at Cassian who grumbled and tightened his hold on you.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” You sighed. “He had just come back from Windhaven with Az earlier at dawn and hadn’t let me out of sight since, but we’ve already had this day set even before their mission and I didn’t want to cancel last minute...” Your words slowed at the last part as you smiled sheepishly. “But maybe I should’ve just cancelled...?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t be a bother,” Feyre, ever the mediator, immediately stepped in before Mor and Nesta could blow up even more. “So let’s just continue as planned, but with Cassian here, who I’m sure will behave.” She looked over to Cassian, her gaze stern and receiving a mock salute in return from the male. “See? No need for rescheduling.”

Cassian turned to Nesta, sticking his tongue out at her like a toddler, but immediately stopped and hid his face back in your neck when Feyre uttered his name in warning, causing Nesta to smirk at him smugly.

You could only sigh heavily as your mate’s arms wrapped impossibly tighter around you.

Cauldron, this was going to be a long day.

~

It was, in fact, a long day for the lot of you.

Cassian, despite Feyre’s words of warning, decided to be the most annoying little shit (affectionate for you, derogatory for the rest) during your time together.

He was a busybody, of course he was more invested in the gossip than all of you were. But not only was he gossiping harder than a teenage girl, he was acting like a lovesick teenage boy too.

He wouldn’t keep his hands off of you, even going as far as teasing you with his hands trailing where they shouldn’t. You weren’t able to focus properly on your girls, having to swat at his hand every time.

Then, the girls’ love lives were brought up. Mor was talking about the female she recently met in the city when Cassian interrupted her, “A female? What’s her name? Where does she live? Do I know her? Does Rhys know about her—”

“Mother above, Cassian!” Mor groaned out. “You’re impossibly annoying, leave me alone. Gods.”

You had quickly apologized to the girls with a promise of making up to them another time as you stood, pulling your mate up with you and winnowing into the house Rhysand had gifted you two in your mating ceremony.

As soon as you were standing in the comfort of your own home, Cassian’s smug, cocky smirk softened into one you were used to seeing on him when you were alone.

“Finally.” He groaned in relief, his hands finding their way to your hips to pull you flush to his chest. “I’ve been waiting all godsdamned day, sweetheart.”

Then, his smirk returned as he lifted you in his arms.

“Now, let me show you how much I’ve missed you.” He pushed your bedroom door open. “Properly this time.”

[captain-barnes-writes]

What is soft launch? (Carlos Sainz)

Part three

Summary: Max Verstappen’s ex girlfriend moves on with none other than Ferrari’s Carlos Sainz and they’ve managed to keep their relationship under wraps until now. Part one | part two |

Face claim: Cindy Kimberly

Type: insta au

Pair: Carlos Sainz x reader x ex!Max Verstappen

Warning: this is all over the place, fluffy Carlos, Lando Norris all up in the comments lol, salty max

————————

YourUsername posted a story

Replies

Username shots fired!

Username the pettiness is real🫢

Yourbff and he always remembers not to cheat!

YourUsername: girl stop 😭😭 you know what I’m gonna delete this

Yourbff 🔪

DanielRicciardo Carlos might as well have bought the whole flower shop lmao

YourUsername don’t give him any ideas 🫣

LandoNorris this will cause more drama with Max😑

YourUsername he started it, he should’ve never posted that story in the first place!

LandoNorris I know, I scolded him for it trust me

CarlosSainz55 anything for you princesa

YourUsername 🥰♥️

MaxVerstappen1 I’m sorry

YourUsername just let me move on in peace

MaxVerstappen1 I just don’t know why it had to be Carlos

YourUsername we fell in love, simple as that.

YourUsername deleted their story

———

20,890 likes

F1Wags Carlos Sainz and Y/N arriving at the paddock for the Barcelona Grand Prix. This is the first time the couple are seen in public after recently confirming their relationship (after secretly dating for one year). I wonder how this will go down after Max’s insta story a few days about Y/N caused some drama.

Comments

Username honestly I ship it

Username same 😶

Username I can’t believe she’s back 🥹

Username max and y/n are still my one true pair

Username he definitely cheated, that’s not an OTP😑

Username those were just rumors

Username I smell even more drama just wait on it

Username I still can’t believe Max posted that story about her as though he doesn’t have his own family now🤡

Username True. I actually feel bad for Kelly after that

Username maybe he realized the grass wasn’t greener on the other side 🤐

Username 2 years too late for that

———

18,675 likes

F1world Carlos Sainz and Max Verstappen were spotted having, what seems, a serious conversation ahead of the Barcelona Grand Prix. This comes after Carlos and Max’s ex-girlfriend, Y/N, confirmed they’ve been in a relationship for the last year. Max had an outburst and posted a story of Y/N holding flowers reminiscing on their relationship which he deleted after a few minutes. The drivers seemed annoyed and Carlos at some point walked away from the Red Bull driver.

Comments

Username i knew there’d be drama 😭

Username I hope they can get past it seeing they have to see each other all the time

Username same here

Username shouldn’t be dating his mate’s ex then

Username oh to be Y/N and have two drivers fight over her 😮‍💨

Username She has the grid rizz 😏

Username she’s immaculate

Username tbh she had most drivers on a chokehold ever since she was with Max👀

Username they’re all in her likes and comments a lot of the time 🫢

Username this is Max’s karma

Username ^^ yes

———

Liked by YourUsername, CharlesLeclerc and others

CarlosSainz55 Podium today, so many good things to celebrate 🙌

Comments

YourUsername proud of you baby!😮‍💨

CarlosSainz55 we’re celebrating tonight princesa 😘

LandoNorris keep it pg Carlos 😑 there’s kids here

CarlosSainz55 yeah, you!

LandoNorris 🤬

ScuderiaFerrari that’s our boy!

Username the way he included Y/N in his post too🥹

Username he’s simping hard

Username I wonder what max and him talked about

Username it didn’t look good🫢

Username definitely about y/n

Username she looks better with you than she ever did with max 🤤

Comment liked by CarlosSainz55

Username not carlos liking my comment lmao

———

Liked by CarlosSainz55, MaxVerstappen1, LewisHamilton and others

YourUsername Red for Ferrari ❤️‍🔥

Comments

ScuderiaFerrari Red looks good on you!

CarlosSainz55 I agree ❤️‍🔥

CarlosSainz55 more like red for me

YourUsername 😏

GigiHadid beautiful!

LewisHamilton so great seeing you again!

Charlottesiine ❤️❤️

Username she’s in love love

Username ok but what is Max doing here?

Username he doesn’t even follow her but is all in her likes all of a sudden?

Username apparently it’s a problem if she moves on but he moved on within a second lmao 🧐

Username someone take Max’s phone away!

Username he’s probably crying in the shower rn

Username red suits you so much better than blue ever did queen

YourUsername 😝🫣

———

15,870 likes

F1Wags There’s reports that Kelly and Max are taking some time apart after some drama-filled days following Max posting about his ex-girlfriend,Y/N, after she confirmed her relationship with Ferrari driver, Carlos Sainz. Kelly was also pictured taking a solo flight to seemingly clear her mind and figure out the sudden halt of her 2-year relationship.

Comments

Username I called it!

Username it’d be hard to stay with someone who’s still clearly in love with their ex

Username you lose em how you get ‘em 🫢

Username poor Y/N can’t even move on in peace

Username she doesn’t seem to care tbh she’s down bad for Carlos lol

Username as she should 😏

Username lowkey feel bad for her

Username He should’ve fought for Y/N years ago, not now when he has his own little family

Username agreed! 😵‍💫

Username 20 sec penalty for ocon

Username 🤔

———

Liked by LandoNorris, CarlosSainz55, PierreGasly and others

YourUsername we’re good over here 😌 (that last one is for you guys, you’re welcome)

Comments

LandoNorris that last one was unnecessary 😒

YourUsername I disagree😋💋

LandoNorris 🤢

CharlesLeclerc I agree with Lando

YourBff is it simping hours??

YourUsername always 😶

ScuderiaFerrari giving the people what they want 👏

CarlosSainz55 😘

Username everybody just kind of overlooking the sassy caption 🤣

Username oh we noticed lol

Username my new favorite couple ❤️

Username queen keep giving us Carlos content

YourUsername 🫡🫡

———

Liked by YourUsername, LewisHamilton, CharlesLeclerc and others

CarlosSainz55 what she said 🤤

Comments on this post have been limited

YourUsername I love us🤤❤️‍🔥

CarlosSainz55 ❤️‍🔥

LewisHamilton beautiful couple!

YourUsername🫶🫶

LandoNorris third picture was unnecessary too

YourUsername 😐

DanielRicciardo the last pic on her post left me blind

CarlosSainz55 then how’d you type this?

DanielRicciardo 🫣

MaxVerstappen1 blocked CarlosSainz55 and YourUsername

———

Posting so late!

This is all over the place lmao but as always I enjoy making these social media au 🤭

[queerfandomtrifecta]

I’ve seen a few takes on the whole “Is the writing actually bad or are you trying to order a milkshake from the hardware store?” genre expectations thing for OFMD s2 and I’m gonna add my own.

Yes, I know it’s billed as a lighthearted pirate romcom. And s1 was just that. But s1 also had some incredibly solid character arcs and thematic elements and layers and so much depth that were shaped by some more serious dramatic bits here and there.

I wasn’t expecting that going into it. In s1, I was expecting to go into the hardware store for hardware, as anyone would, because it’s advertised as a hardware store. But then I got there and discovered that this particular hardware store also happened to sell milkshakes. I didn’t expect milkshakes from a hardware store, especially not really good milkshakes since that seems like it might be a tough thing to sell together, but they were able to keep the hardware out of the milkshakes and vice versa, so it was great. You didn’t have to order a milkshake if milkshakes weren’t your thing and you never planned on ordering one since it’s ultimately a hardware store. You could just come for hardware. You could also really just come for the milkshakes if you wanted to, but it was still really clear that we were getting that milkshake from a hardware store.

And then s2 started and the hardware store spent three episodes really expanding on the milkshake sales. To the point it was like wow, if I hadn’t been told this was a hardware store, I’d almost think it was a milkshake shop. And since it was ultimately meant to be a hardware store, they clearly had to try and sell some hardware, but that seemed like it ended up being a little hard to make room for with how much of the store had been filled with milkshakes, so suddenly there are some milkshakes made with nails and screws, and there are toolboxes and lumber with milkshakes spilled on them. And idk maybe they should’ve served fewer milkshakes if they still were gonna try and sell that much hardware, because these things really don’t always mix and now we can’t really use either of them like that. But still, they just kept making more and more and more milkshakes until the blenders just exploded and there’s just this gigantic milkshake mess everywhere.

So at the onset of e4 it’s like okay, yeah, I have faith that this hardware store will definitely clean up the milkshakes because they’re clearly all over this place; it can hardly even be a hardware store til the milkshakes are cleaned up. But then besides a handful of paper towels that are used to clean up a little tiny puddle of milkshake, everyone just… resumes work selling hardware? Despite the fact that they’re still just walking around in the gigantic milkshake mess??

And that just keeps going til there’s only one episode left and it’s like geez idk why they still haven’t cleaned up the milkshakes I hope they can somehow. That seems tough with so little time left, but this place started as really great hardware store that sold quality milkshakes, so maybe they can pull it off.

But then instead, the CEO of the hardware store decides to unexpectedly murder one of the hardware store employees and says it was a kindness because said employee was just so sticky from the milkshakes that never got cleaned up. Which doesn’t seem like a valid reason AT ALL? and even in a messy, milkshake-covered hardware store, that WASN’T something anyone would typically expect to see?? Plus it still did NOTHING to clean up the milkshakes??

And a lot of us are left just asking “i don’t understand, why did no one clean up the milkshakes???” and for some reason, the response to that often seems to be “hardware stores don’t sell milkshakes”. No, they usually don’t, but this one did. None of us would have ever tried to order a milkshake if it hadn’t been established that this specific hardware store has always sold them, and we’re a little concerned that it’s still just covered in them.

It was also super confusing that the hardware store locked its doors and stuck an “out of business forever” sign up while also still planning to open again like usual but said that if they don’t, at least everyone got a happy ending.

Like… um I really don’t think they did and either way I’m a little wary about shopping at this hardware store again.

[devilfic]

part five of this series dedicated to @aspenaspid​ because they asked so, so nicely

cw: 18+ mdni, implied masturbation (m), non-sexual bondage... technically. it definitely didn’t start that way, miguel’s definitely got a thing for “sir”, EXTREMELY suggestive, no explicit smut.

miguel cannot look you in the eyes right now.

you’re suspended above the crime scene in a web stronger than your own, and it’s hard to see you the same after what he’d done. it should’ve drained him, made him immune, or at least exhausted his desire for you a bit. and you’re none the wiser, of course, and he’s the only bearer of shame, but he’s watching you wriggle and writhe and he’s struggling not to turn back around and portal himself out of there before he made a mess of his suit again.

jessica had since subdued her anomaly, the one you both had come for, and found miguel standing at the far back of the scene with his mouth set in a hard line, “you might wanna take a sample of that web before we head back. villain’s webbing is double the strength of anything I’ve seen. if you can reproduce it, could be useful.”

it would be useful, yes. the synthetic webbers in the spider-society could definitely benefit. his own webs had their perks, but he imagines what he could do if he had access to something this strong. they’re strong enough to hold you captive, thin enough to look translucent. the white strings knot around your ankles, your wrists and chest, pressing deep into your flesh even as you tug and tug and tug. you keep tugging, growing winded with a fine sheen of sweat across your brow, groaning and whining for someone to just cut you out, that you’d do anything for someone to just run their talon down the axis of your chest and cut you free, catching on your suit in the process and ripping a hole for him to just tear-

you groan even louder this time, “can someone get me out, please?”

jessica laughs, pats miguel’s shoulder, “think I’ll leave this one to you.”

miguel whips his head to her, “me? you’re the one that got them in this mess. you cut ‘em out.”

but she’s already on her way, fashioning a portal out of thin air, “they’re your assistant.” and she falls through before miguel has the chance to argue.

there’s a lot less people around now. this universe’s spider had been tied up on the brooklyn bridge and someone was heading out to get them down, so it was just you and miguel and a spattering of police assessing the damage to the city. you blow a stray piece of hair out of your face and whine, “miguel.”

he swallows. maybe cutting you out sooner than later would be for the best.

you’re suspended horizontally, laid back in the bed of webs spread eagle. he uses his own webs to swing up and onto the surface, careful to keep from getting himself caught, and crawls his way over to you on all fours. he reaches your ankles first and extends a talon to snip away the webbing. it falls apart with a little effort.

as soon as your legs are free, you draw your knees to your chest and sigh and miguel has to look away before he gets any ideas. he crawls toward your wrist next, but hesitates. you’re looking up at him with such doe eyes that he feels his hand tremble a bit, “are you hurt?”

you glance away, suddenly a little irritated, “no. I barely got in on the action before that asshole webbed me up like this. he was gonna eat me.”

miguel raises an eyebrow, “eat you?”

“you should’ve seen the guy. he was huge, had fangs just like yours and six more legs.”

miguel frowns. a giant mutated spider appears in his mind, hovering over you with drooling fangs positioned over your throat, prepared to devour you whole. he was sure he didn’t look much different with a villain in his grasp. “just like mine?”

you turn back to him, eyes searching his own. it seems you both are remembering when his teeth sunk into your arm days ago. “not exactly... one fang was the size of my head,” something that big would’ve killed you with one drop of venom, “I tried picturing you as him to sweeten my imminent death, but he wasn’t nearly as good-looking.”

a comment like that would’ve usually had him cutting a hole in the web just to watch you fall to your demise, but hovering over your body (your trapped body, with nowhere to go, and a tantalizing view of your throat on display) had him thinking... other things.

he crouches on a single line of web, hunching his body over you until he blots out the light of the city above you, until his shadow overtakes you and your eyes widen. he places one hand by your head. his lips part slowly, naturally, revealing the very tips of his fangs to you. he watches your breath quicken and your throat bob with a hard swallow. if he’d had 24 hours to get over the images of you he’d conjured up to get him off, you both would’ve been back in nueva york by now.

but it’s been about an hour since he’d spilled into his hand over you for the fourth (or fifth? or sixth?) time, and none of it compared to seeing you like this.

“oh, really?” his voice rasps low.

for once, for once, he’s caught you off guard.

it was no doubt he was bigger than you. and when he wanted, he could be frightening. but even when he tried—and oh, he tried in the beginning, hoped it’d scare you away—you never wavered. it irritated him then. he’d wanted to make you shake.

and now you’re looking up at him and it’s not quite fear, but it stings like an electric current between you. you’re not quick to quip like usual. he can hear the tremor in your breathing. there are police sirens abound but it might as well be completely silent the way you zero in on him.

he’s committing it all to memory in the event his shame can’t keep his hand from finding its way back into his pants later.

you fill your chest with air and arch your back, a movement that makes his brain short-circuit, just to release your sweet breath and fall back into the webs again, “if I didn’t know any better,” you begin, eyes trailing up from his talons curling around the web by your face to his eyes, “I’d say you were trying to get me excited, mr. o’hara.”

his eyes narrow into slits, “what happened to ‘sir’?”

your face breaks out into a smile so triumphant that he realizes you’d done that on purpose, had tried out that “sir” to see if he liked it, not just to tease him. and now you had him hovering over you with his teeth bared like he had no sense. you were insufferably smug. he could feel how pleased you were, the way your body eased into the webs and each and every twist of your body traveled back to his fingers, overwhelming his senses. you’d caught him in a web of your own.

“if I call you sir, will you let me go?”

miguel doesn’t see it but he hears the sound of you stretching your fingers, making no attempts to free yourself anymore. he feels one of your knees brush his hip and wonders if the web will stay intact if he portals the both of you out like this. he needs it. to research, of course.

“I could just leave you here, let them handle you.” he nods to the people down below, forcing himself not to react.

“it would be just like you to leave right before it gets good.”

“that implies ‘it’ was ever gonna happen.”

your eyes flash with something. miguel watches your forehead wrinkle, then smooth over once more, “you’re right. maybe I should take web-slinger up on his offer when we get back, then.”

web-slinger... hit on you?

miguel’s fist clenches and before he realizes it, the webs underneath his hand snap and his arm falls through, throwing him off balance and dropping his full weight on top of you. he tries to gather his bearings but suddenly something is touching his face—you, your hand that had broken free when he’d closed his talons into a fist at the thought of patrick o’hara (oh, you’d definitely done that on purpose) and you—and holding it an inch apart from your own. he waits with bated breath, all at once at your mercy.

you tuck a stray hair behind his ear and he all but full-body shudders, “don’t worry. you’re the only o’hara for me.”

part six

[slipperzipper]

Rescue (Heimdall x Reader)

| Pairing: Heimdall x Reader

| angst turned to comfort/fluff? Reader saving Heimdall from his canon ending, established relationship, Could be seen as romantic or platonic, Let me know if I need to add other things to this as well!

| wrds: 4.1k!

| Disclaimer!: Descriptions of Injuries and Blood (burns, missing limbs, etc), minor Grammar and Spelling mistakes so apologies, Kind of weird start

You wouldn’t have expected to be here, but yet here you were. 

Kratos and Freya venturing to Vanaheim to retrieve her brother was the goal, as long as stopping Heimdall from potentially killing Atreus. Gjallarhorn was the only thing needed from the Aesir. You thought you could come and help in case anything else had gone wrong.

 

But when Kratos turned back from his promise and started strangling the weakened god, you followed them just in time to hear Mimir shout out pleas for the god killer to stop and think. Fortunately you barrelled straight into Kratos, sending him tumbling before turning around and traversing to the side where his arm was missing.

You fell on your knees. Wrapping an arm behind his shoulders, forcing him to sit up, while you grabbed his free hand and grasped it as a sense of comfort in his near death state. His blood started to stain your clothing but that did not bother you right now, right now the only concern you had was Heimdall. 

You didn’t fail to notice how Heimdall’s left hand came to his throat, as if to feel how bruised and put a barrier between him and anyone else that might try to strangle him. His harsh breathing could be heard through short wheezes and gasps. 

You could see Kratos grabbing Mimir’s head before standing tall. You heard Mimir quip about how if you weren’t here it would’ve been a lot worse, you couldn’t help but agree.

You rip a spare sheet of cloth off of your own outfit, using it to clear the blood of the golden god’s face, now his eyes didn’t seem as pink as they were. His face wasn’t perfectly cleaned but it would have to do. 

“Do you plan to come with us to retrieve Freyr and his camp?” Kratos’ voice rumbled out from his chest. 

“Do you mind if we do?” You reply with a much quieter tone, only for him to ‘Hm’ out before he stepped away. Only to wait for you when he finished busting a wall of various spears and long logs of wood. 

You redirected your attention to Heimdall, he was staring up at you. “Are.. are you really going to make.. me go with you?” His voice was slowly gaining back its usual tone and sound, but not as quickly as you liked. 

“We’re going to make things better. Better for the both of us, and if we don’t start now..” You trailed off, trying to think of the right thing to say but everything you thought would result in him being less than pleased with you, but you had to do the right thing.

“Heimdall, your father has made everything miserable for everyone. He makes you miserable. The sooner you realize that, the quicker we can make our lives better. We can make Asgard better” Brushing a strand of hair from his face, you looked at all his features.

His eyes were definitely the first thing people would notice about him, if not his intricately done hair, and how messy it was from normal. His hand was gripped towards yours like it was his lifeline and you couldn’t help but feel how textured his hands were. Not as rough as a warrior’s usually was around the nine realms but detailed enough to know the difference.

You soon tore a strip of fabric off yourself and wrapped his stub, to prevent any more blood loss. It wouldn’t do much but for now it’s all you could do. All he did was stare, stare at you with beautiful magenta eyes. After ‘fixing’ up his arm, you could only stare back. 

Heimdall was slow to respond but he eventually replied in a way you didn’t expect. 

“You should’ve let me die.”

It took you moments until Kratos grunted again to let you know it was time to go. You sighed before getting and pulling Heimdall up with you. 

He stumbled when he stood up but with little stability in his legs, he decided to tough it out. You wanted to argue that it wouldn’t do him any good, but he only insisted. 

You held his shoulders with an arm as the two of you ventured forward, only being a few short feet behind. The natural flora and forestry did not help distract from both Heimdall’s injuries and the burning building that only burned brighter the more time passed. 

Once you found Kratos standing near a ledge, you parted from Heimdall for a short moment to see what the god of war saw. You saw Atreus, the sweet young boy you’ve grown to know through various interactions, letting Hildisvini lead the way as Freya helped Freyr escape.

It reminded you of Heimdall’s condition, but you couldn’t help when Atreus waved at you, you waved back. 

“Hey, a little help?” The young god proclaimed before following after the three more experienced warriors alongside him. “At least the rescues going well” Mimir’s accent was heard, following that up was Kratos’s grunt.

You looked back to Heimdall and fortunately he was still standing and he was right behind you. Grabbing his shoulders again as you followed Kratos more under flora and alternate paths that ultimately lead to the same place. You heard the voices of the rescue team explain how Freyr was hurt in the wreckage, you heard Heimdall wheeze a little bit at it. The two of you continued to venture

You noticed how much strength he was losing by the second. His steps were getting slower and slower and you knew if he were to continue like this then he wouldn’t get anywhere. 

“Heimdall, you and I know you can’t continue like this.” You speak out, stopping Heimdall in his tracks by walking in front of him and planting your hands on his shoulders. Making him look at you. 

“I can continue- now let me.” The golden god spoke before trying to step to the side of you. You didn’t let that happen, instead you forced him to piggyback on you. Getting comfortable while grumbling quietly, Heimdall sat his chin on your head and locked his arm around your neck for security. 

You started walking with the newfound weight on your back. Venturing further, You heard Heimdall small moans of hurt every few times you stepped. Eventually you heard the god of war shout ‘TO ME! FOLLOW!’ and the constant quips of the Vanir God or “Sizzles” as Heimdall liked to call him.

You immediately picked up your pace and started running towards them. You demanded that Heimdall hang tight as you started to move your legs faster and quicker to try and reach them. You can hear the sounds of the wild Gulons chasing after them, You were only a few feet above them, you could easily hop off the terrain but the wild dogs were in the way. 

You noticed that Kratos was swinging his axe with one hand and holding Freyr with the other. Once Kratos slashed the last Gulon you’ll hop down. 

“Oh, hey up there!” Atreus called out your name, effectively letting everyone know that you were ,in fact, here and carrying the injured Aesir god on your back. 

“What are you doing with Heimdall?” Freya shouted as she shot an Einherjar in between its eyes, effectively putting down the reanimated corpse. You explained that Kratos spared him and that he was coming back with them. Only to hear a groan from Freyr.

The wild dogs were eventually cleared out of the way and you jumped off the ledge, almost breaking your ankles in the process but that would be a problem for later. You joined the group and were right behind Kratos.

“Well looky here! The famous Heimdall on the back of a ‘commoner’, who would’ve thought?” Freyr jokes after he glanced up at both you and the mentioned god.

“I would not be talking if I were you, sizzles”

“You just won't shut up about that, huh? Bring it up one more time, I swear I'll-"

“You'll what? Last time I checked you're just as injured as me, so what are you realistically going to do?” Heimdall had let out a little bark of laughter.

“Can you two quit talking?” Freya asked, but it was more of a demand than anything else. You couldn’t help but agree. Atreus then pointed out the Archer Towers in which the boy’s father quickly disposed of them. Heimdall did a small eye roll at how quickly the action was taken.

Atreus eventually ran ahead of his father to take out the further Einherjar. 

“Hi! I’m Atreus, are you okay?” As the two weaved in between each other, Frey responded with a ‘Hi! No!’ 

“Hi Heimdall!” Atreus greeted as he struck a couple of Odin’s army with arrows. Heimdall couldn’t help but mutter under his breath and reply with a dry ‘Hello’ after you weakly elbowed him.  

“How much farther do we have?” You shouted before readjusting your hold on Heimdall’s legs, soon stomping on the head of an Einherjar and heard a sickening crunch. You heard Heimdall give a curt pat as a small ‘good’ 

“That’s what I’m asking!” Freyr quipped with a small laugh. You saw Kratos slam his body and crushed a wild Gulon into a tree and effectively murdered it. The blood stained the tree but there was no time to look further at it as you saw Hildisvini ahead.

Freya as her hawk form came flying by as vines wrapped around the surrounding trees. The dark elf known as Beyla came zipping past you and Kratos, her husband was nowhere to be found. 

“Watch your right!” Heimdall yelled in your ear as he directed his body mass to the left. He was trying to help you redirect yourself out of harm's way. You merely dodged the incoming tree thanks to the partner on your back. 

“Just a bit farther!” Freyr gleefully announced with a raised fist. He seemed the only one to be happy right now.

“Finally, we’re almost there.” Heimdall spoke only to you since you were the only one to hear him. You couldn’t help but agree with him. 

“Hang on just a little longer-” You say but unfortunately luck was not on your side. The extra trees Freya managed to knock down blocked your way, the first tree that slammed down in front of you was twice your size with just the width alone.

“Father!” Atreus then called out your name, catching the attention of the aforementioned god. Panic started to bubble up, your eyes frantically searching for another possible exit. The only way out seemed to run through the wild woods. 

“Go on without me! I’ll find another way!” You informed them with a raspy voice. The air pumping through your lungs made your throat dry, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was getting out of this damn place alive. 

You turned your body so quickly you almost gave yourself whiplash. Sprinting through the trees as angry Einherjar follow so closely, their loud yells of speech and the arrows whipping past you and hitting into trees

The trees were blending together, the wildlife seemed the same. The once (somewhat) familiar area was now unknown as you ran in an unpredictable pattern. Your feet crushed anything that dared to be under it. Whether it be snapped twigs, tiny animals that you failed to avoid, or failed arrows that tried to impale you. 

One of the arrows managed to scathe your leg. Causing a gash to start bleeding as soon as it made contact with your skin. Another arrow made a nice slice into your other leg as well, nearly giving them matching marks. Now your legs were burning even worse from all the running and now the incoming scars. 

“Keep going! There’s a river up ahead!” Heimdall ordered in your ear. His legs wrapped tighter around your waist while you readjusted your grip on his legs. Getting him up higher so that your legs had more room to move. 

As you tried to hurry yourself forward like what Heimdall instructed, you felt a blast of Bifrost explode near your feet. You panicked and quickly swerved, fumbling your feet before you corrected yourself. Only to be shot at again and again. This time it was at your back and arm. 

You cursed to yourself while you tried to move unpredictably. The Bifrost blasts that had missed and hit the surrounding environment were actually proved in your favor when they slowed down the Einherjar with fallen trees and plants uprooting and causing a tripping hazard. 

At the end of the tree line you saw it, the river. You would have to jump the rushing, turgid currents and then you have to continue running until you found a safe haven or somewhere the undead army couldn’t get you and Heimdall.

“Watch out-!”

The previous plan was thrown out when at the river’s bank, your leg was suddenly in the blast of Bifrost, causing it to shake in an untrained way and make you fall forward. Falling into the water and not too long after you and Heimdall were trying to swim, Your arms climbed upward in the water before breaking through it and gasping for sweet, sweet air.

You soon found Heimdall gasping like you. Although with less buoyancy due to a missing body part. You managed to grab hold of him as the rushing river took you down faster than you realized.

What made the situation worse, was that there was a dip in the  water. It was a damn waterfall. As soon as you felt your body slip down you started to scream, your grip tightening on Heimdall as you fell to your inevitable death. 

__________________________

The first thing you felt was sand. 

Sand? 

You flexed your fingers along the sand, soon pushing your head up to see that you had washed up on a shore. The river was just at the edge of your feet, and your clothes were soaked beyond drying soon. You also happened to notice that the leg closest to the bifrost blast that caused this predicament was almost entirely exposed and very much damaged, you internally groaned at having to deal with this.

You picked yourself up with a slight wobble in your legs, your legs felt like bloody, poorly, bundled twigs as you took your first steps. You felt alarmed as Heimdall was nowhere to be seen. You started calling out his name before deciding to look around.

Based on the setting, you were still in Vanaheim and luckily weren’t kidnapped and/or murdered by the Einherjar. You were just fortunate that you didn’t drown in the initial waters. As you ventured, you soon heard a groan. 

You soon hustled to see who it was, avoiding some of the random items that float onto shore. Weapons, shields, parts of barrels, and body parts. Carefully avoiding the dismembered parts and debris, you managed to get to your person.

Heimdall face down into the sand just like you were and a small blood pool under his ‘arm’. Hustling over to him you help him up. 

“Do you happen to know where we are?” Heimdall asked with a cough, previously covering his mouth. 

“I have no clue, I was hoping you had an idea.” You admit. You slipped your hand around his and gripped. You felt a grip back, and it gave you a little smile on your face.

“But first, I think we need to stop your bleeding.” You mentioned, you can see a small scowl on Heimdall’s face before continuing to follow you. 

“I can heal it with Bifrost. Don’t insist on collecting miniscule plants to help me.” 

“Then how come it hasn’t stopped bleeding yet?” You ask curiously, you didn’t want to sound sarcastic but some of that unwanted tone slipped out. 

“Because it requires my full attention and concentration.” You released an audible ‘oh’ at the very simple explanation, Heimdall only rolled his eyes in what you hoped was a playful way. 

“How come your bleeding hasn’t?” Heimdall sarcastically countered. You had almost forgotten about it, if it weren’t for the pain every time you stepped. 

“I don’t have any bifrost powers like you do, nor do I have anything on hand to heal myself.” Heimdall was uncharacteristically quiet after that.

You sighed before trying to think of something. How were you possibly going to reach Freyr’s camp? 

It was at least multiple days of walking, and that was without break. Maybe there was a sign of Freyr’s camp somewhere? Some old structures to help you have an idea of where you were. 

Freyr’s camp was in the direction the sun set. The sun was already setting and traveling at night was not the best idea. So the best idea was to set up your own, albeit small, camp. First thing you did was gather stones, placing them in a circular pattern. 

You had set the stones on a dry, grassy patch just shy of the beach. It would be better instead of sitting on the grainy sand. 

Then you ventured towards the nearby woods, Heimdall didn’t seem to mind as he observed more of his surroundings, copying what you did previously. 

The woods were packed. Thick trees every couple feet apart from each other, the wild flora captivating your eyes while you collected specific plants and organisms for your injuries and small pieces of wood for a fire. Although one flower caught your eye. 

A bright purple one with glowing spores. It was much like the bright red ones you have seen exploring Vanaheim but this was so clearly different. It called out to you. You figured it could be a decent gift for Heimdall to maybe brighten his mood. 

Pulling your knife out, you quickly snipped the flower’s stem. You had dropped the bundle of wood in your arms just for it, and having no other place to put it, you slid it comfortably behind your ear before returning to the camp. 

“There you are, I was starting to worry you got eaten by something.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the assumption, it was possibly one of the more funnier things Heimdall has said to you. 

“I wouldn’t die that easily, or at least I hope so.” Your hands worked in order to prepare the fire. You searched yourself for anything to make starting a fire easier, but with no luck, you decided to start hand drilling.

It took a while and your hands were sore but there was fire going and you and Heimdall were warm. 

“What is that behind your ear?” Heimdall’s voice curiously asked. The question reminded you of the original intent. Sitting somewhat next to each other, you sat while you nervously prepared yourself.

“Oh!” You removed the flower before gesturing for him to take it. “It’s for you, it reminded me of you anyway so I thought-” You stammered your way through the conversation, flirting with the infamous golden god was extremely harder than you thought. 

Instead of flat out rejecting you like you kind of expected, he gently took it from you. He quietly observed the pretty petals you gazed upon earlier. The pistil still glowed brightly as it did before. You were still glad the flower looked as pretty as it did earlier. 

Heimdall slowly rolled the stem in between his fingers, looking at the pretty plant plainly with what seemed to be little care. 

“So you thought to give me a mutated flower?” He inquired, and your heart had immediately dropped. Of course he wouldn’t like the flower, of course he’d think it was a weak attempt to flirt with him. Of course-

“It’s a beautiful gift, thank you.” His tone was tender and it made your tender heart stutter. Soon silence comfortably blanketed over the two of you. The environment provides a comfortable background echo throughout the spot from the crackling fire to the sound of calm waters. 

You couldn’t help but stare at Heimdall’s once-arm, (the god had his eyes closed so he could probably still read your thoughts but you hadn’t remembered that) the mostly reddened stump with only the top of his tricep and upwards remaining. 

You wanted to so desperately help the healing process. You also noticed the long cut on his cheek, he was just a mess in general. 

His hair was also not in his preferred style, some strands coming loose while some braids remained surprisingly. His hair was still beautiful, and the flower behind his ear accentuated that fact. You can’t just linger around while Heimdall had to slowly recover. It didn’t feel right. 

“Heimdall, please, let me help you.”

Heimdall had broken his concentration to look at you, he was silent until he shook his head. “I told you that you do not need to help, I can heal it on my own-”

“But wouldn’t it heal faster if I added a remedy or two in it?” Quickly interrupting the god, Heimdall sighed

“It would but it wouldn’t be necessary, and no, just because you have the means doesn’t mean you can” 

“Heimdall, let me help please, it's only fair after you saved me from getting crushed and blown up by Bifrost!” 

Heimdall could only rub his eyes with his hand before replying a meager ‘Fine’, You got up as quickly as you could without hurting yourself to find something that could resemble a bowl. It didn’t take long before you found something.

An Einherjar helmet, the eye holes were fortunately before the helmet formed instead of just being holes in the strong metal. You washed it in the shore’s bank thoroughly before returning to Heimdall. 

Sitting cross-legged, you start mixing flora such as Lamb’s Cress and Red root. Mixing it with two of your fingers so that you could carefully apply it, you wouldn’t want to miss a spot. So the helmet glowed on the inside, a bright yellow one to be exact.

“I’m going to lift your sleeve, you ready?” With a quick nod, you lifted his posh sleeve and quickly got to work. Slathering the medicine on the trauma, you could hear Heimdall hissing and groaning and trying not to move in place, you definitely knew how awful it was. 

It was over before both of you knew it. You slipped his sleeve back down and set the Einherjar helmet down, “Now you can concentrate on using Bifrost.” You smile before moving yourself further so you could have room.

Heimdall only rolled his eyes and reciprocated the smile. 

You soon pulled your pant legs high up to tend to your wounds. Heimdall was quietly watching as you analyzed your injuries. 

The first thing you noticed was the Bifrost burn on your mid calf and downwards. The flesh there was stingy and hurt to touch or even look at. It spanned out in sharp points and then round points, it still bled every time you flexed your leg as well. The cuts you had gotten from the arrows were deep, they tore the skin there with ease.

Maybe you could borrow some of the Aesir arrows sometime, they were mighty harmful. The gashes were still relatively okay, you wouldn’t be getting an infection anytime soon. 

You released an annoyed sigh as you prepared the ingredients to help mend the burn. Adding more of Lamb’s Cress and Red root to the concoction. “I could hold the helmet for you if it would make this,” He nonchalantly gestured to your burn ”easier.”

 

You thanked him by handing him said helmet. The golden god merely held it as you worked your ‘magic’. Gracefully dumping some of the product on your wounds, wanting to jump away from it while you applied it with either a hiss or curse. 

As soon as you were done with the helmet, you threw it far. Or at least as far as you could from your position. Finally, you could rest without worrying about anything right now. Worrying was for tomorrow. Laying down on your back you started to relax.

The sun had set and night could be fully seen. The stars above twinkled like they never have before, maybe you should come to Vanaheim more often. The fire crackled every few seconds just to add onto the effect and you loved it, despite the situation you could still see the beauty in it.  

The sound of shuffling and you found that a new weight was on your right. The watchman of the Aesir had lain beside you. You could feel his fingers ghosting yours as if he wanted to hold your hand. You decided to take the initiative and interlock fingers with him.

“Any particular reason why you decided to lay with me?” You ask, tilting your head to look at Heimdall. The Aesir man only turned to you, stared you in the eyes, then turned his back to staring upwards.

 

“I like your company, that is all.” 

The response made your heart grow warmer, so you weren’t all too bad in his eyes. (Ignoring the fact you saved his life of course) You whispered a goodnight to him before shutting your eyes, you hadn’t realized how heavy they felt until you’ve closed.

The last thing you remember was Heimdall gently squeezing your hand before you drifted asleep. 

[honorarysimp]

7: The Entity

series masterlist

You’re starting to get worried.

And that’s saying a lot.

The nightmares aren’t anything unusual, especially considering the circumstances and how you’ve been living the last month.

It’s a lot, you admit to yourself, even for you.

You cup your hands under the cold running water and splash your face, bent over the sink as you rest your hands atop the counter. Deep breath in, exhale.

Shaking your head, you wipe your hand over your face and look up into the mirror. The bags under your eyes and your sunken in cheeks isn’t exactly the best you’ve looked. But insomnia is a bitch, and she fucks you every night.

You turn to head back to your hotel bed, with the intention of sleeping, when you notice the red staining your sheets.

Had you ripped your stitches again?

Looking back to the mirror you turn, wincing when you feel a slight sting, peering over your shoulder and feeling your stomach sink.

Gashes, like nails, down the length of your back.

Those are new.

You reach around to touch them, almost like you can’t believe they’re real, and wince as the smallest brush of your fingers lets you know they’re very real.

How? What? Where did they come from? They weren’t there yesterday. A rat? Fuck no, a rat wouldn’t do this.

Trying to rationalize, you realize there’s no point. Honestly, maybe you should’ve given up on logical thinking when you’d gotten attacked by a Ghost. Or Wes disappearing. Or being buried alive.

You rub your eyes, you’re not even sure the last time you got good sleep, which is why you don’t even think about it when you’re picking up your phone and dialing the number that had been given to you just a week ago.

It’s in this moment you realize she might be at work, saving people, doing her job. And you’re bothering her with your unexplainable bullshit-

It picks up on the third ring, “hello?”

Her voice is groggy, she’d definitely been sleeping, but her follow up is far more awake. As if she’s registered that you’re actually calling her, at 3AM.

“Detective? What’s wrong? Are you-“

“I’m okay. Something has happened, I don’t know how to explain it but…” you trail off, praying you don’t sound as delirious as you feel, “I could use some medical attention for something.”

You hear rustling in the other end, feeling guilty knowing she’s getting up out of bed for you. Someone she’s only known a month. Someone whose life she’s saved twice now. Three times if you count her stitching up your wound.

The first time.

“It’s not bad-“

“Must not be if you’re calling me instead of an ambulance, or 911” she says, but you hear her amused tone down the line, it eases your guilt only a little.

“Try not to hurry, I’ll pray I bleed out before you get here.”

Her tired laugh is the last thing you hear before the call ends.

When she arrives, she doesn’t question you. She simply sits you down after you show her the scratches, assessing them carefully. Once Tara determines you don’t need stitches, she cleans them. Bandages them.

She’s gentle, careful, like she had been after she and Sam dug you out of the ground. Almost like you’re real to her now, it’s still surreal to you. The dynamic shift after you almost died, for an idiotic reason yes.

But… you can’t really complain, selfishly grateful that Tara has grown fond enough of you to show up at 3AM to help you without much explanation.

She and Sam had both agreed not to say anything about what had happened, per your request, not without extreme protest of course. But considering how dangerous those men are, for now, you thought it best to be grateful for their mercy. For all of your safety, considering their warning.

They could’ve just left you there, after all.

You wonder if she’ll ask after she’s done, where the scratches came from, but unfortunately you aren’t sure what to tell her.

“I’ve seen these before” Tara murmurs without prompt, almost as if she’s reading your thoughts, “Sam had a friend when she was in high school-“

“Sam had friends?”

That earns you a smack on your good arm, you grin, knowing Tara is fighting off her own smile.

“She was getting scratches and nightmares, I overheard her tell Sam once that something was terrorizing her. That it was coming for her.”

Your stomach sinks, swallowing hard as you stay quiet, letting her continue.

However when she doesn’t, you turn and find her gaze far off, deep into thought.

“Where’d you go?” you ask softly, as if coaxing her back. Those pretty brown eyes find you again, catching the ambient lighting of the room and making something unnecessary tug at your chest.

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go… ask, is all” Tara says with a shrug, “she moved out of town with her girlfriend- wife now actually, a few years back. But knowing you? I’m sure we could find her.”

That. That gets you. The “we”.

“Why are you helping me” you ask, voice raw and tone quiet, your eyes searching hers.

It’s a loaded question and you both know it, because technically you’re still strangers. But you aren’t. You’ve already been through a lot since the moment you arrived here, and Tara’s been nothing but a beacon to guide you to the only sliver of sanity you have left. Even when she calls you names and acts as if she cares less than she does.

Tara is quiet for a long moment, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth before taking a deep breath.

“People give you more reasons not to trust them than they do reasons to trust them” she murmurs, which isn’t a good start, at least until she glances away and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“But that’s no reason to project those fears onto everyone you meet, that’s not what the human experience is about” Tara continues, you notice that vulnerability wavier as if she suddenly worries she’s been too honest, so she adds “besides, you’re clearly the thoughtless type who goes headfirst just to do the right thing, as a first responder it’s my job to keep idiots like you alive.”

You’re silent, simply just looking at her, and she’s looking right back at you.

The tension is suffocating, and you become suddenly aware that the room feels smaller than it should. And when Tara shifts her weight where she’s sat on the bed, you feel too close to her. Not in a bad way, but in a way that makes you feel more terrified than being buried alive or stabbed.

“Well,” you hum, collecting yourself and squaring your shoulders, which the movement makes your back ache “how far of a drive is it?”

You’d told her you wouldn’t go anywhere without her, and you’d meant it, which is why she doesn’t ask and neither do you. Something’s are better left unsaid, at least for now.

“About three-ish hours, maybe more? Don’t take my word for it, but if you want a physical address you’ll need to work some magic” Tara says, a small smile teasing at her lips, you swallow the rising pulse in your throat as you stand and head for the small table to the left of the bed.

It’s nothing extravagant, your set up, considering you’re still in the same hotel room you’d been in since arriving here. But your own personal makeshift investigation board sits on the table leaned back against the wall, papers and photos scattered about. You nudge your tape recorder off your laptop and open it up, sitting as you tilt your head side to side, getting satisfying pops.

“It won’t take long once I get a name, when do you wanna go?” You ask Tara over your shoulder as you boot up your computer, “wait don’t you have work?”

“Work is the least of my concerns, what you should be asking is how fucked we’re gonna be when Sam finds out we’ve both skipped town” she pauses, for dramatic flair probably, “together.”

The muscle in your jaw twitches, hand pausing over the keys, because the idea of a furious Sam coming after you for disappearing off with her younger sister isn’t exactly appealing “…maybe we shouldn’t-“

“We’ll be fine, I’m a grown ass woman for fucks sake.”

You give her a look, slowly turning back towards your computer.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not even looking at you anymore.”

You don’t look, but you know she’s fighting off a smile.

____________________________________________

Your car rumbles down the empty countryside road, its headlights cutting through what remained of dawn as it neared its destination. The quiet was interrupted only by the low hum of the engine and the sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires.

Finally, the headlights catch a turn off, a narrow dirt road leading to a small, simple house. It was secluded, surrounded by a dense thicket of trees and undergrowth.

“It’s really early, do you think we should come back?” You ask unsurely.

The engine idles softly as you park the car just down the drive, glancing to Tara, her features set and determined. The headlights illuminated the front of the house, casting eerie shadows over the worn shingles and wooded exterior.

“It’s 7AM on a Tuesday, you’re the Detective, context clues” Tara says as she raises an eyebrow at you.

You ponder, sighing, rationalizing it’s probably the better time to catch them. Before work, not after when it’s late at night.

In your defense, you’re exhausted and running on coffee and sheer spite.

You kill the engine and push open the door, the cool morning air rushing in as you climbed out. Tara follows suit, her eyes fixed on the house in front of you.

With a shared nod, you both approach the front porch of the silent house, the boards creaking beneath your feet.

It seems quiet from within, but a single light flickered through the curtains of a window to the right. You and Tara exchange a quick glance before you raise a fist and knock loudly on the door.

For a moment, you stand in silence, waiting for a response. There is no sound from inside the house, but the light remains on, casting a faint glow through the curtains.

You knock again, knuckles rapping against the worn wood of the door harshly. The sound echoed through the clearing just surrounding the house.

After a few more moments, there was movement from inside, the sound of footsteps approaching and a bolt being slid aside. The door creaks open slightly, revealing a blonde woman with wary eyes.

The blonde woman took in the sight of you and Tara, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. Before she could threaten you or tell you to piss off, though, her gaze fell upon Tara. Immediately, recognition filled her features.

"You..." she whispered, her expression shifting from wary to surprise. The tension in the air seemed to thicken “you’re Sam’s little sister.”

“Hey Kirby, it’s been a while” Tara starts sweetly, flashing the woman a genuine smile. The woman, Kirby, flicks her gaze between you two, her hands flexing as she gripped the edge of the door.

"What... what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice shaky and uneasy.

Sensing her trepidation, you took a step closer. "We have some questions," you say calmly. "May we come inside?"

Kirby hesitates, her eyes flicking between you and Tara. Her expression remained wary, her grip on the door still firm and tight.

"You didn't answer my question," she said, her voice steady but laced with unease. "Why are you here? What do you want?"

“The same thing that happened to you is happening to my friend here” Tara says suddenly, making Kirby look to her with wide eyes.

From further inside the house, another female voice called out. "Everything okay?"

Kirby turns her head briefly, responding to the voice. "I'm fine," she called back, her tone taut and anxious.

There was a moment of silence before the other voice called out again. "Who's at the door?"

You watch Kirby tense, her expression growing even more unnerved. She glanced back at the two of you, then back into the house. She takes a deep breath, her features regaining some of their steel.

"Everything's fine, Jill" she called out, her voice steady and firm. "Go back to bed, I'll handle it."

She then turned her attention back to the two of you, her expression her gaze hard and resolute. "You need to leave," she said, her voice regaining its firmness. "There's nothing here for you."

The voice from inside called out again, this time sounding agitated. "What's going on? Who's there?"

Kirby sighs and calls back over her shoulder. "Everything's fine, babe please!"

There was a moment of silence, and then a second woman appeared in the doorway. This must be Jill.

She looks the same age as Kirby, her brown hair tied back in a loose bun. She has her arms crossed, her expression curious but not hostile.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, peering out through the crack in the door at you and Tara.

The tension in the air seemed to ease slightly as the second woman emerged. Her presence was calming, her voice soft and less defensive than Kirby.

"They’re from… Woodsboro" Kirby mutters, her eyes moving between you and Tara.

Jill’s eyes widened a fraction, her expression growing wary. "From Woodsboro?” she repeated, her gaze flicking between each of them. “Should I even ask what brought you two all the way out here to our doorstep?”

You take a small tentative step forward, gaze locked intently on Jill, praying she at least be the one to hear you out. "Ma'am," you began, voice firm but pleading. "We need your help. Something is happening in Woodsboro, something that’s connected to what happened a few years ago, and then a few years before that.”

Kirby’s eyes widened, her hands trembling. Jill, however, stays composed, her gaze steady as she listened.

"The events from that night have started repeating," you continue, voice low and insistent. "We need to understand what's going on, if you were able to survive being tormented by this thing it may help us-“

Kirby’s expression contorted, her eyes going wide with anger. "No!" she snapped, her voice trembling. "I'm not going through that again. You both need to leave, get the fuck off my porch, NOW!"

With a loud thud, she slammed the door shut, the sound echoing through the night.

You and Tara exchange a quick glance, stunned by the sudden outburst. The porch suddenly seemed eerily quiet, the night air heavy with tension.

“Do we…?” you start, looking to Tara, who looks a mixture between frustrated and unsure.

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea” she mutters, looking a bit guilty, “at least we tried-“

But then the door cracks open again, this time it’s Jill. She looks between the two of you, thoughtful, eyebrows pinched together almost as if she’s worried.

“Listen, I can’t tell you much because I don’t know much, neither of us do. All I know is that the same thing happened to my Aunt back when that thing-“ she stops, shaking her head and glancing over her shoulder inside.

“There’s a ritual, and it’s not simple. Bare bones? Your heart has to temporarily stop, so whatever the thing has latched on to you moves on or something. We never questioned it, only did what we were told and it worked.”

That was not what you were expecting, and as you share a look with Tara it’s clear neither was she.

“Are you saying-“

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. We stopped her heart and restarted it using a defibrillator, I’m sorry I’ve got nothing more to offer you” Jill says with an apologetic smile, “and don’t be set off by her reaction, she never really… recovered fully from what she saw. That’s saying a lot, if you’d known her… before.”

As if you weren’t anxious enough already, you’re still wanting to be in denial about this.

Think about it, an entity that’s been terrorizing Woodsboro for decades decides it wants to start fucking with you specifically? And to get rid of it you have to die and be resuscitated?

The cherry on top of everything that makes no sense.

“This is fucking insane-“

“Thank you for your time, and advice, we appreciate it” Tara smoothly cuts you off, resting her hand on your shoulder as she gives Jill a smile.

Jill glances between you two, offering a nod “back then I’d have done anything to save her, she’s everything to me, it would be cruel of me not to offer the two of you that chance.”

It’s not exactly an implication, or a forward assumption, but you can’t help how your mind goes right to it. And judging by the slight pink tint in Tara’s cheeks, she may not be far off your train of thought as she quickly takes her hand off your shoulder.

With that, Jill disappears back inside, and you two both make your way back to the car quickly. It’s quiet as you start the engine, punch in the address to get you both back to Woodsboro.

“I don’t think I’m up for this” Tara says suddenly, you turn your head to look at her in confusion. She’s staring out the windshield, discomfort in her expression “I’m not entirely excited at the idea of stopping your heart when I know it doesn’t always work bringing someone back.”

You take a deep breath, gripping at the steering wheel like it’s a stress ball, “look it’s just bad dreams, some scratches on my back it’s not like it could mean-“

“Stop. Just… stop” Tara cuts you off, raising a hand in the air between the two of you as she refuses to look your way. Silence envelops the vehicle again.

“This has to stop. I’m tired of losing people I care about, and you-“ she whips around, face twisted with anger as she glares accusingly “-you can’t just show up and wedge yourself into my life like it’s nothing, and then disappear like everyone else. No. Fuck no I refuse-“

“Tara” you say her name softly, gently, which instantly pauses her angry rant. She takes a slow breath, running her hands down her face as she collects herself.

“Can we say this for what it really is? Because I’m not a skeptic and I’m not rabid with superstition, but can we agree that this is something?” Tara says, opening her eyes and looking at you.

It’s hard. Hard for you to admit that yes, it’s the only explanation. That yes, there’s something far bigger than either of you are probably even anywhere close to being able to comprehend nor understand. And how you’ve somehow become this entity’s new target, for a reason still unknown.

Because you failed at your job to uncover this, which is probably why this has gone on for as long as it has. There’s nothing to work with.

“If I’m gonna live…” you start carefully, holding her gaze as you try to keep yourself steady, “then I’m going to have to die, and unfortunately… I’ll need your help for that”

Tara is clearly against the idea of being the one to do it, but she puts on a brave face and nods, the look you share says it all.

“This is fucking insane, right?”

“Really fucking insane.”

“And it makes no sense, it might not even work, but we’re going to try it anyways?”

You turn back to face the steering wheel, shifting the car into drive as you mumble “I guess so.”

____________________________________________

You never thought you’d find yourself in Tara’s living space, yet alone laid on her floor knowing she’s about to stop your heart.

Literally.

She’s in work mode and you can tell, she’s trying to keep herself as detached from this as possible so she’ll follow through. Tara is a professional, this is a part of her job after all.

Her place is nice, really nice, you wonder if things were different, if you’d be here under different circumstances. But then again, you’d have never come to Woodsboro at all without them.

You lay motionless on the floor, eyes closed as you steel yourself for what was about to come. Your breaths are slow and deep, each inhale and exhale a measured effort of control.

Tara kneels beside you, her hands gripping the handles of the defibrillator pads. Her expression was a mix of determination and worry, her eyes trained on the machine's digital readout, pre-set to the appropriate voltage.

"Ready hot shot?" she asked, her voice steady but taut with uncertainty. Your eyes fluttered open, locking onto hers. You give a subtle nod, bracing for the shock. The air seemed to crackle with anticipation, each second hanging in the air like a lead weight.

“See you in two minutes?” you ask, just because you feel like you have to say something, even if it’s repeating the agreed time you’d go under.

She nods, “two minutes.”

With a deep breath, Tara presses the two small pads against your chest, the rubber grips sticking to your shirt. Her fingers hovered over the 'shock' button, knuckles white with tension.

The air was thick with an eerie stillness as she prepared to deliver the electric jolt. The your heart pounds in your ears, body tensed in anticipation.

"Clear!" Tara exclaims, her voice ringing out sharply in the empty room. With a brief flash, she pressed the button.

A bolt of electricity surges through you, your body convulsing involuntarily as the jolting current struck you. You grit your teeth, muscles seizing and twitching with the force of the shock.

And then your eyes open, and you find yourself standing in the middle of a vast, empty void. The air was still and silent, a stark shift from the moment before. Your body felt strange, almost weightless, and a sense of confusion washes over you.

You look around, your gaze scanning the endless space. Were you dead? Had the defibrillation worked?

As you turn in a small circle, a sudden chill ran down your spine. Something was there. In the shadows around the edge of the void, a faint outline shifted and moved.

As your eyes adjusted, the form solidified, and what appeared out of the darkness was a horrific sight. Dark, twisted limbs, a face that was once human now distorted and nightmarish. Its voice was a low, gravelly whisper that echoed through the emptiness.

"You’ve done well, better than most" the entity said, its voice rasping and harsh. "Your persistence amuses me. But I assure you, your efforts are futile."

It began to move, its twisted form slithering across the floorless void, seemingly moving across the empty space like water. Its dark, misshapen body approaches you, its eyes glinting with a sadistic pleasure.

"Everything you've worked for, all the pain you’ve endured," it continued, drawing closer and closer. "It will all be for nothing. You can’t beat me, Detective. I am a part of you now.”

Your terror is replaced by a sudden surge of defiance. You stood tall, hands balling into fists, and demand answers. "Why are you doing this? What do you gain from abducting people from Woodsboro?" you exclaimed, voice firm as your empowered by all the pint up frustration over the last month.

The entity halted, its form pulsating and shifting. A low chuckle echoed from its deformed mouth.

"Abducting people?" it repeated, the words distorted and mocking. "Such a simplistic way to frame it. I'm not abducting them. I'm freeing them."

The entity begins circling you slowly, its limbs moving like sinewy tentacles across the void. Its eyes remain fixed on you, dark and unsettling.

"Freedom from the mundane, slavery to mortality, the expected," it continued, its voice dripping with a twisted sense of righteousness. "I offer them something greater than what your pathetic world could provide."

"Greater?" you exclaim, your voice tinged with anger. "By stealing their lives, taking them from their homes, their families, you're offering them something greater?"

"Oh, but I am," the entity retorted, its deformed face contorting into a mockery of a smile. "Everything they leave behind is meaningless. My world is one of power, of transformation. Those who are taken become something more than they ever were in your world."

That catches your attention, “is that where they are? The missing people? Is that why there are no bodies?”

The entity chuckled again, its dark, twisted form shifting and writhing before you. "Precisely," it said, its voice dripping with satisfaction. "They've become a part of me, a part of something greater, something beyond your comprehension."

Your mind races, trying to piece together the entity’s machinations. You clench your fists tighter as you demand to know more.

"How do you do it?" You ask, voice sharp. "How do you move around town without leaving a trace all this time?"

The entity let out a guttural, mocking laugh. "You are so limited in your thinking, Detective. You think in terms of flesh and blood, of physical presence. But I am far more...fluid."

Your eyes widened as the entity's words sank in. "Water” you murmur, realization dawning.

The entity chuckled darkly, its twisted form undulating in the empty void. "Very good, Detective," it taunted. "You've finally arrived at the crux of the matter. I am not bound by the constraints of your physical world. I am fluid, elusive, and I am everywhere."

You press on, desperate for more information. "Is that how you’re able to change shape and form?" You ask.

The entity chuckled, its form shifting and reshaping in the void as it suddenly takes on the appearance of the Ghostface. "Correct again, Detective," it responded, its voice taking on a mocking tone. "Water is my medium, my canvas. I can shape and reform myself in any way I desire, thanks to my connection to its endless supply."

You listen intently as the entity spoke, its deformed grin spreading wider. "I have no pattern, no cycles," it said, its voice taking on a tone of satisfaction. "I come when I want, I rest when I want, and I leave when I have had my fill. Everyone is fair game. I am a force of nature, unpredictable, unstoppable."

It paused, its form shifting and coiling in the void. "But for now, it is your time," it continued, its voice dropping to a sinister whisper. "Your time to join my ranks, Detective."

The entity’s deformed face twists into a grotesque sneer as it began to reshape yet again. "Oh, I am coming for you, all of you, one by one" it hissed, its voice dripping with menace. "It is inevitable my will to consume this town, suck it dry like a parasite. Until there is nothing left. Nothing left but me, and my twisted playground-“

Your eyes snapped open, breath coming in ragged gasps. You felt a sharp jolt through your chest, a jolt so strong it seemed to rattle your bones.

Your vision swims, and the world comes back into focus. You realize you’re back in the real world, Tara standing over you, the defibrillator still in her shaking hands.

“You’re going to feel nauseous for a minute, try and take it easy” Tara says smoothly, setting the pads down and grabbing your face gently, checking your pupil response with a small light that makes you wince.

The adrenaline was still coursing through your veins, your heart pounding in your ears. The memory of the entity's words echoed in your mind, its dark laughter still fresh in your memory.

You push yourself up slowly, body feeling heavy. Tara rests a hand on your shoulder, acting as an anchor as she looks at you, relief and concern etched across her features. "You alright?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

It took a moment to gather yourself, your mind still spinning. "I saw it," you croak out, voice hoarse. "I spoke to it. It’s real, it warned me... that it- its-“ you blink a few times, shaking your head to try and rid the hazy sensation.

Tara’s eyes widen, her expression turning to one of confusion. "You… saw it?" she asked, her voice shaky. "What did it say?"

You look to her, dread clear in your eyes “it’s coming for us, all of us.”

Tara holds a brave face, but you can tell she’s beginning to panic as the reality of all this really sets in. This is real.

“What do we do? Do we even do anything?”

You swallow hard, trying to push yourself up to your feet, but your knees instantly give way.

“Woah, woah you can’t be standing up yet-“ Tara is quick to steady you, her firm tone practiced from her field of work.

“We have to go to the Mayor, I have to talk to her about the immediately” you tell her, no longer caring to filter anything that comes out of your mouth after what you’d seen.

You now understand Kirby’s panic, her horror, her fear.

“The Mayor? Why? She won’t believe us” Tara says, but as she takes in your next words, her expression shifts from worry to disbelief.

“She will, because she’s the one who hired me and brought me here.”

previous, next

[hannicorpse]

ʚ♡ɞ hopelessly devoted to you : episode seven - fboys

previous | masterlist | next

pairing : frat members yang jungwon x female reader

warnings : smoking, drinking, karina says the word fuck a lot

wc : 2k

preview : jungwon was always known as one of the more persistent members of the epsilon nu frat. so when he ran into you for the first time, he just knew he couldn’t get enough of you. even if you couldn’t be together because of your warring friend groups. but that doesn’t mean they had to know. right?

taglist ! @firstclassjaylee @13tter @yjwxfxr @nctislifue @yizhoutv @jwonistic @seunghancore @sol3chu @qettalos @unhakki @i03jae @gyuvision

from niya ; the song referenced is fck boys by blxst

just as promised, you were getting ready to go to the party hosted at epsilon nu’s frat house. or as they called it, the ‘traphouse’. you and karina always found that corny. nonetheless, you’ll still attend.

as soon as you walked out your dorm with ning, you saw the rest of your friends already waiting outside.

“i’ll drive?” you said, grabbing your keys before closing the door.

“i mean, you’re the only one who knows where it is.” aeri grimaced.

the final destination was not far from the girls dorms, but it was still far enough off campus that you wouldn’t be able to walk.

as soon as you parallel parked the car off the sidewalk, you led your friends towards the front door of the house.

“it’s so weird being here after so long.” karina mumbled, as minjeong, ning, and aeri admired the scenery in awe. “sometimes i forget that you guys have never seen the house.”

“i mean, we weren’t necessarily invited. like, you were heeseung’s girlfriend. and i swear sunghoon has been trying to get with y/n for ages.” minjeong pointed out as aeri agrees.

“seriously? i pretty much grew up with sunghoon. i can’t say he’s ever seen me like that.” you scoffed, before going up to the ‘bouncer’ who stood by the front doors.

“name?” he asked.

“y/n lee?” you questioned, assuming your name should’ve already been on the list. you ignored the complaints from your friends in the background as two random girls shoved past you, immediately being let in.

“there’s no y/n on the list.”

“you’re kidding. can’t you just let us in? i know sunghoon. mark lee is literally my brother.”

“nice try. you don’t know how many times i’ve heard that tonight. can you just tell me what sorority you’re in?” the bouncer says as he looks you up and down.

“alpha epsilon.” you groaned, growing annoyed as he turns around to make a call.

“i’m being told that no one from alpha epsilon is allowed into the epsilon nu frat house as of last year.”

“this is ridiculous..” you mutter, pulling out your phone to text jungwon.

barely a minute went by before your knights in shining armor came out from the house. “yo, what are you doing? they’re with us. did you even bother to check that exclusive guest list?” jungwon scolded the bouncer, as he tapped on the top of the clipboard, which clearly read your names on it.

sunghoon peaked his head out from behind the door, motioning for you all to follow him into the house while jungwon dealt with the bouncer.

“sorry about that. he’s a transfer student. normally we don’t hire freshmen but, duty calls.” he shrugged. “there’s a cooler out back, non alcoholic drinks in the fridge, and food on the island. welcome to the traphouse. didn’t think you guys would make it.”

“wouldn’t miss it for the world.” karina rolled her eyes with sarcasm, before waving her hand for you and your friends to follow her to the kitchen.

before you could follow, sunghoon grabbed your arm. “i got you a little something.” he winked, pulling you to a more secluded area.

you walked with him as he pulled you, but you turned around to look for your friends so you’d know where to find them later. at a party like this? they wouldn’t leave their spot. but you didn’t miss the way they all looked at you suspiciously, whispering amongst themselves. “they’re definitely fucking.” minjeong muttered.

sunghoon sat down on the couch, gesturing for you to sit next to him.

you put your head on his shoulder as he rolled a blunt for you, leaning into his warmth. “why aren’t you looking for jungwon?” he whispered teasingly.

your face fell. “who told you?” you asked, almost immediately dropping the lit joint he held out to you when you jumped up from your seat.

“riki.” he shrugged, taking a hit since you didn’t seem to do so yourself.

“he told riki??” you exclaimed in fear, running a hand through your hair. “this is bad. who else knows?” “just us. but i pretty much found out myself. you guys are really obvious.” he murmured, blowing the smoke past his lips before holding the blunt up to yours.

you took a long drag, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling. “nothing even happened. all we did was talk. do you know what would happen to me if they found out? my friends already hate me for talking to you. what am i supposed to do?” you ran on, visibly stressed.

sunghoon grounded you. he was always good at that since you were younger.

“can you relax?.. this,” he emphasized the joint he held between his two fingers as he let you use it, “was supposed to calm you down, not rile you up. i’ll help you with jungwon. it’s clear you have a fat crush on each other. so don’t stress. and your friends? they need to learn the world doesn’t revolve around them and their feelings. you knew me before you met them anyway.”

“you.. you’re actually right. but, still. i’m just scared. i really have no idea what would happen if they knew. like, karina literally loses her appetite if you mention anyone in epsilon nu.” you sigh, allowing yourself to sink into the leather couch.

“your usual goods doesn’t seem to be working for you.” he teased.

“i’ve grown a higher tolerance for this.” you scoffed, playfully flicking his shoulder.

“i’ll swing by at lunch to drop off a new strain next week. we got some of that strawberry cough stuff.” sunghoon laughed. “stay here, i’ll be back.” he informs you, putting out the forgotten joint.

as soon as he left, karina and ning came up to you. “don’t tell me you’re fucking park sunghoon.” karina sighed in frustration, speaking through her teeth.

“i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again. he’s practically a brother! i’m not even interested in anyone right now.” you frowned.

“you can fuck whoever you want. but it can’t be someone in epsilon nu.”

“i’m not trying to?” you exclaimed in genuine confusion, almost anger. karina was ready to talk again, but immediately stopping herself, closing her mouth as sunghoon came back.

“we’ll talk later. come on ning.” karina scoffed. you watched as ning gave you an apologetic look, gesturing how bad she felt.

“karina seems to be on one.” sunghoon joked, attempting to lighten the mood. “how would you know?” “she doesn’t really talk when she’s mad.”

you stared blankly at him. “how would you know?” “seriously? she was here almost every day because of heeseung.”

sunghoon sat down on the couch with two red solo cups in his hands. he held one out to you, letting you smell it before you took it.

“gosh, that’s strong. the hell is this?” you grimaced at the alcohol stench.

“vodka. grey goose, specifically.” he smiled. “no kidding.. this is crazy. that’s like, 6 shots in one cup.” “it’ll definitely get you there. that’s what this is for.” sunghoon emphasized the other cup, raising it to show that it is half full with strawberry fanta.

you hesitate at first, but pound the vodka before immediately taking the chaser.

“that was terrible.” you coughed out.

“one more?” “..”

by the time the party was already over, you were crazy drunk. your friends were already waiting in your car. good thing you gave ning the keys.

sunghoon offered to walk you out, but jungwon came racing towards you to beat him too it. “nooo, i’ll do it!” he slurred, probably more drunk than you were.

“where were you the whole night?” you whined, as he held your waist to help you get up from the couch.

“sorry babyyy i was dealing with the guy that was giving you a hard time.” he chuckled, pressing his nose into your neck as you walked towards the door.

“thank you wonnie.” you smiled, before reaching up to cup his cheek.

you stared into his big and round eyes. jungwons pupils dilated as you looked at him, his cheeks flushing a rosy color.

his breath hitched as he felt you coming closer, before you eventually sealed your lips together into a soft kiss.

you could taste whatever he was drinking at tip of his tongue. you were practically leaning into jungwon now, so his hands held your waist to prevent you from falling over.

jungwon pulled away, licking his lips before letting you go, holding the door open for you.

“such a gentleman.” you laughed as you were stumbling over yourself.

ningning was waiting outside for you, ready to catch you and walk to the car.

“come on, you’re drunk.” she smiled, helping you settle into the car next to aeri, who gave you a neutral look.

“we’re never coming back here again.” karina sighed, putting the car in ignition before turning out into the road.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Carpe Noctem 29

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

“I should go,” you get up as Cole comes back in the back office, “I’m so sorry about today–”

“Go? Where?” He asks as he stands in the door. “Back to that maniac?”

“Well, I…” you swallow and let out an exasperated sigh, “yeah, I have to–”

“You don’t have to,” he insists, “you shouldn’t. Someone that angry can be pretty dangerous.”

“I know, it’s just–” you have no argument, no excuse, just the truth, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“You don’t?” He wonders.

You shake your head and grab your jacket from the rack, “I’ll be fine. I’m sure he’s calmed down. I shouldn’t have lied–”

“But you did. For a reason. If that’s how he reacts… you never mentioned a boyfriend,” Cole shifts on his soles.

“Boyfriend?” You almost laugh, “no, not exactly.”

“It’s complicated, got it,” he nods, “well, you were wrong, you know?”

“About what?” You take your pure of a lower hook on the rack.

“That you don’t have anywhere to go. I’m just putting it out there,” he raises a hand to rub the stubble along his jaw, “if you need somewhere to stay, er, my parents’ could spare a guest room.”

“Oh, Cole, no, I couldn’t. That’s too much. I’d hate to impose on your family like that.”

“Uh, you definitely wouldn’t be. My mom would love to meet you,” he lets himself smile, “I brought home some of the extra treats and she loved them. She’s a baker too.”

“That’s— that’s sweet,” you shrug and look away, “I just don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“I wouldn’t suggest it if it wasn’t,” he insists, “but I really don’t feel great about you going back to a man like that. I’m big enough to defend myself, but you…”

You know he’s right. This isn’t the first time you’ve seen Lloyd get violent and just like with Johnny, it’s only inevitable that it turns on you. You’re not exactly excited to go back to that house.

“All my stuff…” you begin, arguing with yourself as much as him.

“My ma has some stuff she can lend you for the night,” he offers, “as long as you don’t mind flannel. And I’m sure you could use a nice warm meal.”

“Cole,” you rub along your jaw evasively as you look away, “I just… I feel so bad about putting you out. Your parents too.”

“You’re not. You know, I think you surround yourself with the wrong people. The sort that make kindness seem like a debt to be paid back. You don’t owe me anything. I’m just being decent, like anyone should,” He turns his hands out. “But if you say no, I’m not letting you walk out of her without my phone number. And you have to promise to call me if anything goes bad.”

You frown and look at your feet. Lloyd could use the night to cool off just as much as you. You cross your arms then force them straight. He’s entirely right. You’re letting all those others people who bargain courtesy like currency colour your doubts. Why should you begrudge him the action of others when he’s only ever been nice?

“Did you ask your parents? I don’t want to be a surprise,” you chew your lip.

He smiles, “I texted ma but I’ll give a call before we go. Trust me, you’re more than welcome.”

☕

The drive is longer than you expect, but not. You should’ve figured that the farm would be out in the country. At the same time, you never factored in the time it must take Cole to commute each day. It whittles another ounce of appreciation out of you. He seems too kind for his own good.

That generosity sees you in his passenger seat. You left your car behind at the cafe to save you gas and the trouble of driving. You didn’t fight too hard. You want to be in one place and still.

He steers down a long dirt road and as the moon disappears behind a thicket of trees, the land turns desolate. Your chest sinks just a little but as the silver light breaks free again, you let out a breath of relief. Ahead you see the yellow windows of the farmhouse and dark colossus of the barn not far behind it.

Cole pulls up behind a big red truck and shifts into park. The motor cranks slightly before he turns it off. You can’t help but wonder how someone like him came to own a cafe in the city. Maybe after so long in the rural desert, the urban sprawl must be alluring chaotic.

He gets out first before you muster your strength. He comes around, startling you as he opens the door for you. You thank him, the gentlemanly gesture almost jarring. You’re so unused to kindness, it unsettles you. That should tell you something. It’s a ringing cry for change.

“Are you sure…” you begin the same question you’ve asked every five minutes for the last hour.

“Sure,” he interjects firmly, “really, ma always cooks too much and my sister’s off finding herself. Again. She’ll be happy to have you around.”

You nod and climb up the wide porch steps beside him. He pulls back the screen door and waves you in ahead of him. A fragrant aroma draws you in; roast beef and roasted veggies. The homey glow embraces you, welcoming you without a word.

“Here,” he tugs on the back of your jacket, “I’ll get this.”

He hangs his own coat as you undo yours and hand it over. He puts it over his own then beckons you on. Hesitantly, you follow his direction, walking down a walnut trimmed hallway to a dining room decorated in faded florals and pine.

“Ethan,” a woman calls through before she appears in the doorway across from you, a large dimpled glass dish in her hands, “oh! I thought you were your father– eee! This must be her.”

She rushes to the table and sets the steaming dish on a potholder. She still has her oven gloves as she sweeps around the room, “Beverly,” she introduces herself, pulling you into a hug, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Uh,” you gulp as she squeezes you, only releasing you as Cole clears his throat. “I’ve heard a lot about you too.”

“Really?” She nearly squeals, keeping you at arm’s length, “he didn’t say you were so pretty.”

Your eyes round and you let out a nervous giggle. Cole groans under his breath and brushes his hand over his sandy hair. It’s kind of cute when your own parents were never so excited to see you.

“Thanks, that’s too sweet,” you smile, “erm, thanks for having me.”

“Oh, of course, of course,” she titters as she lets you go, “Cole always had a soft spot for those in need.” She turns to him and touches where his cheekbone is still red from his scuffle with Lloyd, “and look at him, my knight in shining armor. How many times do I have to tell you not to fight? You never were very good at it.”

“Ma,” he urges her away from him, “I’m fine.”

A ding chimes from the kitchen and she springs back, “oh, that’s the dumplings.”

She spins and hurries off, leaving you off balance. You slowly face Cole and put your hands on your hips, “so how much did you tell her?”

“As much as I know,” he rubs his neck sheepishly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want her to freak out when she saw my face and– it wasn’t anything that makes you look bad.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I don’t want to be a charity case,” you cross your arms.

“Trust me, you’re far from it,” he assures you, “really. I want you here.”

You don’t know what to say. You don’t trust your own judgment. Whether he means it or not, it hardly matters. You’re just grateful to have a night away from it all. Some time might be just what Lloyd needs to grow some common sense.