#and then i stand next to a guy who's more than an inch taller than me and i'm like hm. don't know about this

[liinos]

seeing ggs next to any guy is so bad for my perception of things wym you're 5'2

[bvidzsoo]

Daemonium

﹢﹑⟡ Daemonium → evil spirit [Latin] ﹢﹑⟡

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: demon!Jung Wooyoung x female reader

﹢﹑⟡ Warning: cursing, attempts of murder, descriptions of death, usage of witchcraft, suggestive ﹢﹑⟡ Word count: 17.5k ﹢﹑⟡ Rating: nc-17 ﹢﹑⟡ Genre: supernatural!au, university!au, demon!au, crack somehow too~ Summary: ﹢﹑⟡ Starting university and moving in with an unknown dormmate should've been stressful, not to you though. You couldn't wait to finally break free from home and live life freely. But isn't it weird that you start having near death experiences quite often after you meet your dormmate, Jung Wooyoung? ﹢﹑⟡

A/N: Hello, hello, my lovelies! The long promised demon!Woo oneshot is here! I apologize in advantage if I totally fucked up how a negative is developed, despite my research, I didn't understand much lol. Also, the usage of witchcraft isn't described too much but it still might not be that accurate so yeah, sorry for that too. I hope the humor in this isn't bad or cringey, I had quite a blast writing this story lol. I hope you enjoy and let me know your thoughts about it, I appreciate and love your feedback always! <3 divider (picture Vogue Korea shoot Wooyoung, where he wore that sheer-like fabric, making it seem like he was covered in tattoos & also, Coachella Mingi, thank uu)

            The first time I saw him was when I was down in the lobby, six months ago, all sorts of excited and nervous as I was waiting for my AR to show me to my room for the university year. My mother had been clinging to my arm, her eyes just as wide and curious as mine as we were looking around while giggling to ourselves about the decoration and any guy that passed by us. My father, much less impressed and excited, stood more to the back with his arms crossed in front of his chest, probably thinking of a possible excuse to save himself from having to help his only daughter move into her future dorm room. So very typical of my dad, yeah.

I was chewing on my nails, watching as another AR came down to greet the newcomers—too busy wincing as I ripped up the cuticle of my thumb accidentally—to notice the sudden presence next to me. My mother was reading through a magazine she found at the front desk, lips pursed as she muttered to herself about the atrocious décor the magazine was advertising just as my father’s phone started ringing.

Ah, there it was, his excuse to stake out in the car and do whatever he can to pass the time. Very cool, dad, yay!

I hissed as I finally was able to bite off the annoying thin layer of skin, stinging radiating up from my thumb to my palm. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I sighed as I wiped the smallest drop of blood off my skin and looked up, only to pause as I made eye contact with the figure standing next to me. I blinked once, twice—quite shamelessly letting my eyes roam all over his figure as I took him in—aura dark and definitely screaming, ‘I will kill you if you even as much as touch me, roach’. Well, isn’t that just so cool?!

The guy was taller than me by a few good inches—nothing high heels couldn’t solve—and despite his all-black outfit, he looked excentric, attention demanding. Well, with the tattoos littering his sleeves and neck, it would’ve been a little hard not to demand for one’s attention—even if he was just standing next to me, sharp eyes narrowed at my still gently bleeding thumb. His face looked like it was sculpted by a Greek God itself, who had taken their time to make sure every single feature of his guy’s was perfect. His jaw was all sharp in this angle, making one appreciate his profile even more. His lips were rosy red, and a silver lip ring towards the left corner of his mouth had my eyes lingering on it a second too long as I noticed it cut into his plush looking flesh. His nose stood tall and quite captivating with its special Romanic feature, not very common around here. I took notice of the mole underneath his left eye as well, my gaze slowly shifting to the two silver dots—piercings—underneath his eye that made his gaze even more alluring than it already was. And his eyes seemed to be uneven, the left one sharper and more monolided than his right one, making it feel like you were looking at two different persons depending on which eye you were staring at.

Almost at once, it seemed like my mother and father finally noticed this extremely intriguing guy standing next to me, however, their reactions seeing him were quite different. My father scoffed and gave him a scrutinizing look before walking off, motioning towards his phone in a way that was supposed to convey the fact that it was an important call, yadda yadda—it wasn’t; meanwhile my mother’s jaw dropped open as she very rudely gapped at the guy while nudging my side. Finally, it snapped me out of my blatant staring, and I quickly wiped the little blood off my thumb, smiling widely at the guy when our eyes met. For a moment, my smile faltered at the darkness swirling in his eyes, the depth in his sharp gaze, but as he blinked, it almost completely went away. It must be the light messing with us, because his eyes were a dark brown, almost midnight black like the hair that was falling messily in his eyes. With a sexily raised eyebrow, he gave me a questioning gaze, looking displeased by the attention from my mother and myself, and then he turned and stalked off towards the elevator. I whistled under my breath and my mother giggled like a schoolgirl, muttering something about how she’d devour him if she were young and wild once again—not cool, mom.

And after that encounter with the sexy and intriguing stranger, my RA finally made it to me and with his and my mother’s help—thanks dad for not giving a shit, again—I was up on the fourth floor, standing inside my shared dorm room with a dormmate that I still have had yet to meet. Dorms were mixed here, so unless you specifically made a request to share the dorm with the same gender, you could end up with either a guy or a girl dormmate. I have no specific preferences, therefore I left it up to whoever was assigning us to pair me up with whoever. The dorm room had one shared living space, it was quite spacious and served well for a living room, a small kitchen that could fit at a maximum four people inside, and, thankfully, a private bathroom so that we didn’t have to share it with everyone on our floor. And there were two separate rooms serving as our dormitories too. All in all, the dorm was fancy and quite to my taste, and I felt quite satisfied with it. Once I have claimed the room to my right as my own, I settled inside of it and unpacked everything, letting my mother help me as I knew she wasn’t just yet ready to part ways with her only daughter—who she thinks is sheltered, but turns out, I am quite the opposite of it.

Once my mother left and I was all settled in, I made for the bathroom for a long shower, needing a refresher as the days were still hot and made me sweat buckets. But the warm spray of the water compelled me to wash my hair as well, and I complied happily as I heard noise coming from the living room. My dormmate must have finally made it to our dorm, it made me giddy as I was finally done with my shower, only just now realizing I didn’t bring clothes with myself. Well, I should have thought of that before, now it was too late, but thankfully I had my towel with me and I securely wrapped it around my body, water dripping from my hair as I walked outside and into the living room. My smile was wide and voice chirpy as I exclaimed before even seeing my dormmate, “Hi! You made it! I was just taking a shower, my name’s—”

“Hell, why is your voice so high pitched?” The low grunt cut me off as my eyebrows furrowed, looking for the source of voice as I couldn’t see anyone in the living room. Was my voice high pitched? Nobody’s told me that before.

“Uh, well, I guess I’m just excited to meet you.” I made sure to lower the pitch, accidentally sounding like a creepy man that was trying to sound like he totally wasn’t about to grope you or act like a freaking creep. But I still couldn’t see the person, so I walked closer to the sofa, “Where are you—”

My eyes widened as my dormmate finally came into view as he stood up, eyes still so dark as he looked unimpressed, “Oh, it’s you.”

Well…he didn’t sound too excited, that’s for sure. I gulped, suddenly blushing as I realized I was stood in front of the hauntingly sexy stranger from the lobby in nothing but a towel. However, to my surprise, he seemed quite uninterested as he turned back around and crouched down again. I leaned just a little forward, curious as to what he was doing crouching underneath the window, “Yup, it’s me, we’ve met like…an hour ago? What a coincidence that we’re dormmates!”

“If only I had a little more luck in this shitty realm…” The guy grumbled underneath his breath and my eyebrows furrowed at his peculiar choice of words, oh, was he like…into some type of fantasy stuff? Like…does he think he’s like an elf or an alien or like…a zombie? Wait, no, he’s too sexy and normally behaving to think he’s a zombie, “I’m Wooyoung, by the way. Jung Wooyoung.”

I quickly plastered on a wide smile as he stopped and turned back, eyes calculating as he raised one eyebrow, “Nice to meet you, Wooyoung! My name’s Hwang Y/N.”

His eyes narrowed for a second before he grunted again and turned back to whatever he was doing, my curiosity only growing as I kneeled on the sofa and leaned against the back of it, craning my neck. As he moved to the side again, I noticed he held a small bowl in his hands which contained something solid and white. Huh, is it salt?

“So, whatcha doing, Woo?” I grinned as he turned around again, looking quite disgusted.

“My name is Wooyoung, not Woo.” His tone was snappy as he pursed his lips, giving me a once over again, “And I’m putting salt underneath the window, don’t want anyone with a big ego and stupid brains coming inside.”

“Isn’t that why we lock the front doors?” I arched an eyebrow as confusion laced my voice, and Wooyoung just blinked as if he was waiting for me to get to the butt of the joke.

“Humans,” He hissed underneath his breath before he stood up tall, knees popping and making me bite my lower lip before I could chuckle. It was funny for no reason, apparently only to me as Wooyoung looked still as unimpressed as ever, “Anyways, Y/N, I have some ground rules that you’ll have to respect heavily.”

“Ooh, lemme hear ‘em.” I grinned as I leaned my chin on my folded arms over the back of the sofa, making Wooyoung sigh long and loud. Did he not like me? Was he irritated by my presence?

“First, and most important rule, is to never enter my room, okay?” He leaned down, face coming closer to mine as his dark eyes bore into my curious ones, “Never ever, Y/N, understood?”

I pursed my lips and hummed, tilting my head to the side, “Sure, I’ll stay out of your room, but—are you like doing some rituals in there or what? You can come inside my room as long as you ask, you know, I don’t mind.”

Wooyoung’s jaw tightened as his eyes narrowed again and he tsked, shaking his head a little bit, “Rituals or not, human, you stay out. I bet your mommy would cry if you were to disappear.”

“She certainly would.” I did a mock salute, making Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrow as I chuckled, leaning forward, the gap becoming smaller between our faces, “Don’t you worry you weird little creature—human—I won’t go inside your room. I am quite capable of respecting people’s wishes, you know?”

“Anyways,” Wooyoung cleared his throat and stood back up straight, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “second rule, if you see salt scattered around the floor or on the windowsills, do not get rid of them, got it?”

“Sure, you’re lucky I’m not some clean freak maniac, though.” I chuckled, sitting back on the sofa before I stood up, suddenly aware again that I was standing in only a towel and my hair was still dripping water everywhere.

“Hell, why do you have an answer to everything?!” Wooyoung pinched the bridge of his nose before he turned his back to me and went to spread more salt underneath the window. I just chuckled and took off towards my room.

“Anything else, Mr. ‘I have two rules you can’t ever break’?” I raised my eyebrows as I grabbed the doorknob and Wooyoung scoffed loudly, looking quite unimpressed when his head turned to face me.

“Yeah, rule number three, don’t ever touch my chocolate if you want to live another day.” I started laughing, but when I realized he was dead serious about it, I stopped and cleared my throat, mock saluting him again.

“Yes, sir, yes!” Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed again and he closed his eyes as he muttered something, then turned back to finish whatever weirdo thing he was doing. I giggled and finally went inside my room to get dressed and dry my hair.

            Well, all of that was six months ago and Wooyoung changed nothing. Albeit, I didn’t change much either, apart from the fact that I cut my hair after Wooyoung accidentally managed to somehow burn the strands sitting against my back. It was a freak accident and we still don’t know how the fire got close to my hair as I was sitting at the table while he was cooking us dinner. But it was quickly forgotten as many of Wooyoung’s peculiar habits and actions. If you overlooked his weirdness, he had quite the persona. I rarely saw him smile, unless he was with that obnoxiously tall blonde guy, but he did stop glaring at me nonstop. Now he’d only glare for a few seconds whenever he saw me and then pretended I wasn’t even there. It was a good deal on my part, not that I had a habit of clinging to others and bothering them, but Wooyoung was quite good at setting up boundaries, and he certainly was teaching me how to stay in my lane and respect others wishes. I could be a little nosy, but Wooyoung was the first person to be bothered by it. I didn’t mind as long as he would watch ghost hunting shows with me every Wednesday and Friday. He hated it, but he didn’t complain—I viewed that as a small victory, especially if he bought salted caramel popcorn to snack on while we watched the new episodes.

The seasons were changing and the weather was turning warm once again—slowly but steadily—and that also meant more storms and power outages. Which were quite frequent around our campus, especially in our building. There wasn’t one storm where the power didn’t go out, and the last time it happened, I heard Wooyoung cussing loudly inside his room, something shattering, and then Wooyoung storming out of his room and our shared dorm with something red trickling down underneath his eyes. He could’ve been cosplaying or something, so I didn’t question it too much. Tonight wasn’t different, the storm hit at around 7pm and it kept going well into the night, making it difficult for me to fall asleep as the windows were quite old in this building and did a shitty job at insulating the sounds coming from the outside. Struggling to fall asleep, I had facetimed my mother and somehow managed to fall asleep to the gory story she was retelling that’s happened to her at the morgue yesterday. She must’ve hung up upon seeing that I have fallen asleep, because when I awoke due to the relentless and loud howling of the wind, the screen of my phone was black and the phone itself had been almost falling off my bed on the other end of the mattress. I could get quite restless in my sleep if outside factors were bothering me, and I groaned as I rubbed at my eyes, barely seeing anything in the darkness of my room. The window rattled against its hinges as the wind blew even harsher, the rain hitting the glass loudly and making me feel like I was inside a caravan on a stormy night. At least the thunderstorms haven’t started yet.

I yawned as I finally felt my phone under my extended palm and rolled over, burying my head in the spare pillow as I pulled the phone under my body. I was tired as hell and I wanted to go back to sleep right away, but something told me to check the time. It was a little past 3am and I groaned as I flopped back onto my back, reaching over for the cable of my charger. Feeling around for it, and growing frustrated that I couldn’t find it, I pushed up onto my elbows and turned my head over, completely freezing as I noticed my bedroom door was wide open, with a black figure standing in the doorway. My eyebrows furrowed for a second, brain hazy with sleep, and I blinked my eyes fast, thinking that I was just seeing things. But rubbing both of my eyes for a few seconds only made me see black spots, making the figure look like it was further inside my room when my vision finally cleared. My grip tightened around my phone as my eyes narrowed when I noticed something silvery in the person’s right hand. Wait—was it a knife? Our sharpest knife, and Wooyoung’s favorite knife to cook with? Ah, Wooyoung!

“Hey,” I called out, voice a little scratchy from lack of water, “something bothering you?”

Wooyoung seemed frozen, unmoving and unblinking as his red tongue poked out to lick at his plush lips slowly. Yeah, I could use a glass of water too right now. It was a little unsettling how well he blended in with the darkness, almost as if it swirled around him, pulled him into itself. His eyes were so dark that only the whites of them were visible, and his two piercings were almost as bright as the butcher knife clutched tightly in his hand.

“This storm sucks so much,” I sighed, turning over and instantly finding the cable, “I could barely fall asleep, and now I’m awake again because of it.”

I successfully plucked in my phone and then placed it on my nightstand, “You can’t sleep either?”

I rolled onto my back again, settling comfortably underneath my warm blanket as my soft pillow cradled the back of my head. Wooyoung still hasn’t moved nor said anything, and a wide smile spread onto my lips at the sudden thought I got, “Wanna cuddle, Woo?”

The figure grunted, the sound a lot lower than Wooyoung’s usual voice, and then it visibly shivered as I made grabby hands at him. When he still hasn’t moved, I smiled brightly at Wooyoung and raised my eyebrows questioningly. That’s all it took for Wooyoung to snap out of his weirdly frozen state as he visibly gagged, making me pout as he whirled around quickly, knife glinting as he pressed it against his lower back. And then he was out of my room, slamming the door shut loudly behind himself, “Sweet dreams, Wooyoung!”

My exclamation was probably drowned out by the heavy rain and I sighed contently as I nuzzled further into my comfortable bed, turning to lay on my belly as I felt my dreams threatening to kidnap me into dreamland once again.

            The morning that followed after the storm was cold and mostly quiet. Branches had been torn off trees and they lay astray on the streets, the city maintenance were out early in the morning to clean them up so that there wouldn’t be more traffic jams than usual. I was glad for once for not owning a car as I walked towards the coffee shop that is closest to our campus and university, my best friend probably already there. He’s always way too early and then complains about me being late, when in fact, it’s always him arriving fifteen minutes early while I’m on time. It’s an argument we’ve been having since highschool, and he still thinks he’s in the right and I’m just bullshitting my way through the argument. The big guy, in fact, cannot lose in anything and will obliterate you if you doubt his skills or piss him off while playing games. He’s a monster when it comes to playing games, and it’s been more than on one occasion that he managed to scare me to the point I burst out in tears. But I promise he’s the softest and kindest and safest human being you’ll ever meet—as long as you keep him away from anything that he can turn into a competitive game, like…who can eat more walnuts in three minutes. Don’t ask, but we ended up in the ER after that little stunt of ours—he’s allergic to nuts but he apparently wanted to prove a point. What point…we still haven’t figured it out. Maybe that he’s immortal or something—he isn’t. He once broke his arm and cried about it for a week, it was the funniest thing ever. I still have the videos of him laying in his bed with snot running into his mouth as he sobs about losing whatever points he’s made in Valorant or something—I wouldn’t know, I’m not much of a gamer.

I grinned as I finally reached the coffee shop, sidestepping a couple that were giggling to each other and having no spatial awareness to someone that was trying to enter the building that they were blocking the entrance to. I pushed the heavy door open and as expected, Yunho was already sat at our usual table with a cup in his hands, gazing out nostalgically the window. I chuckled and hopped over, scaring the shit out of him as I threw my arm around his shoulders and pressed a fat kiss against his soft and chubby cheek. He spilled a little of his coffee on the table as he whined and yanked himself free from my clutches.

“Yunho!” I grinned as I took a seat across from him, “I missed you!”

He looked tired as he gave me a short glare, taking a napkin to clean up the mess caused by me, “You’re lucky I didn’t spill it on my new dress pants, or else we’d be in the bathroom with your head flushed down the toilet.”

“Hey!” I couldn’t help but laugh as I wriggled out of my jacket and draped it over the back of my chair, placing my backpack underneath our desk, “Sometimes I wonder if you really love me or not…”

“You can’t guilt trip me when you made me spill my favorite coffee.” He deadpanned as he placed the cup down on the table, intertwining his fingers and placing his hands on the table, giving me a serious look. I huffed and pouted as I grabbed my own cup, knowing that it was my favorite as I raised it up to my lips, taking a tentative sip. The sweet taste of caramel invaded my senses and I hummed in content, closing my eyes.

“I’m buying next time.” I said as I placed the cup back down and leaned over the table to ruffle Yunho’s hair.

“You better.” He mumbled as he leaned forward, letting me pet his hair for a little longer. He loved it when others played with his hair, he’d often fall asleep in my lap if I played with his hair, “Did you get any sleep last night?”

Yunho knew I hated storms, and after having offered to sleep over last night but I declined because he had an exam today, I knew he’d be a little worried about me not sleeping much, “Yeah, I struggled to fall asleep, but I did manage to sleep more than I expected.”

“That’s good, the power went out at around seven in our building.” Yunho rolled his eyes and we both leaned back in our chairs, our legs playfully pushing at each other underneath the table, “I hate these old buildings, they are so freaking creepy. It makes me feel like I’m a Victorian man getting haunted by my enemy’s ghost or something whenever I have to leave my room. The library is so dark too, I almost shat my pants last night when I ran into a dude in the very last aisle, you know, in the back where the light barely reaches even with the power on.”

I snorted in amusement as I fiddled with my fingers in my lap, shaking my head at my best friend, “Only you would be in the library when there’s a power outage, Yuyu, it’s you who’s creepy at this point, not the possibility of encountering a sexy and hunky ghost—”

“Don’t say that about ghosts, oh, my God!” Yunho gave me a disgusted look as he shivered. He’s a tall man with broad shoulders and soft cheeks, but fierce eyes if pissed off, yet, at his core, he is just a big scaredy-cat. He hates anything paranormal related, and when I once dragged him ghost haunting with me, we ended up in the confession box the same night with him begging the priest to bless him—and me—because he was convinced a demon attached itself to him. It was hilarious, especially when he stole a small vial of holy water and downed it on our way home.

“Anyways,” I playfully rolled my eyes and then took another sip of my coffee, “the power went out in our building too, but was back at 3am.”

“What were you doing up at 3am?” Yunho asked with furrowed brows, holding onto his warm cup of coffee.

“I dunno, the wind woke me up.” I shrugged, placing down my cup and mirroring Yunho, “And then I noticed Wooyoung standing in my doorway with his favorite butcher knife in his hand—”

“What?!” Yunho’s loud voice had heads turning our way with inquiring gazes and I chuckled, bowing my head slightly in a silent apology for being a nuisance. Then, I faced my best friend again and shushed him as he suddenly stood up from his seat from across me, and instead fell into the one right next to mine, “Are you okay?!”

“Yes, Jesus, what’s up with you, Yuyu?” I scoffed and gave him a look that said he’s crazy, making Yunho stare back at me as if I was the crazy one.

“Do you hear yourself right now?!” And before I could answer, he leaned forward and cupped my cheeks, squishing them together so that I couldn’t speak, “What the fuck is wrong with that dude, Y/N, you seriously need to change dormmates. We can move in together, I’ll pay the bigger part of our rent, I don’t care at this point. That guy is trying to kill you!”

I groaned loudly and rolled my eyes as I grabbed onto his wrists, pulling Yunho’s hands off my cheeks as he instead grabbed onto my shoulders firmly with his long fingers digging into my turtleneck, “You are overreacting, again. He isn’t trying to kill me, Yunho, he’s just peculiar. He was probably cooking something and came to check on me as he knows I struggle sleeping when there’s a storm—”

“Right.” Yunho cut me off with an obnoxious scoff, “He was cooking at 3am, Y/N, sure.”

“He does eat at weird hours, sometimes.” I shrugged and yelped when Yunho started shaking me violently.

“Wake up, woman, that man is weird and probably is a serial killer, and if you don’t move out you’ll be his next victim, please, Y/N, when has my intuition been wrong?!” Yunho’s voice was dripping with desperation and I bit my lower lip, blinking at him innocently.

“Back in highschool when you thought that guy you liked from drama class was gay and you kissed him at that legendary party?” Yunho’s eyes widened into saucers, completely mortified at the mention of the cursed exchange—which he have sworn never to speak about.

“Shut up!” He yelped, pressing his big palm against my mouth, “We agreed that never happened! And don’t divert the subject, I am serious, Y/N. Something is very wrong with that guy and you’re just stubborn and don’t want to see it, because you think I’m only saying all of this because I hate him.”

“Well, am I wrong?” I raised my eyebrows and Yunho sighed in exasperation, his hands falling from my shoulders.

“He’s trying to kill you, of course I hate him.” He snapped, eyebrows furrowing deeply, making me roll my eyes as I grabbed my cup and took a sip of my Caramel Macchiato.

“Yuyu, you can’t even pinpoint one instance when he’s tried to kill me, stop being dramatic—”

“Oh, I can’t pinpoint one instance?!” Yunho’s eyebrows angrily shot up, “How about I pinpoint a dozen then, you stupid woman!”

“I’m all ears.” I singsonged and leaned back in my chair as Yunho groaned loudly, leaning closer, as if that would make him sound less insane and make me finally agree with the way he thought things were.

“Fine,” He snapped and pressed a finger against my chest quite painfully, “you had been living with him barely for three weeks when it just so happened that there was a fire scare in your apartment, and your door was locked from the outside? Not even two weeks after that, he walked inside the bathroom while you were bathing and pushed your hairdryer into the bathtub, but thankfully it wasn’t plugged in, right?! Oh, and how about on Halloween when he dressed up as Ghostface and only chased you around and got arrested when the cops realized he had a real knife as a prop?! What about, I don’t know, when he quite literally broke a bottle and held it against your neck under the excuse that he wanted to see how you’d react ‘under pressure’?! Let’s not even mention him burning your hair when you were feet away from the stove. Or that time when the lunatic was playing around with throwing knives and almost fucking gauged your eye out with it? He’s set your favorite blanket on fire, Y/N, while you were underneath it! And you said he tried to push you into the river while you were out taking photographs for your portfolio for class—”

“Alright!” I raised my hands in defeat, sighing loudly, “I do admit it’s weird how often it happens that I’m placed in harms way whenever I’m around Wooyoung, but they are just coincidences, Yunho—”

“Coincidences my fucking ass!” Yunho hissed, cheeks and ears reddening from anger. I sighed defeated and placed my elbow on the table and then rested my chin in my palm with a pout on my lips. Yunho only cussed when he was really angry.

“Yuyu,” I poked his hand with my left hand, lightly scratching his smooth skin with my nails, “I love and you love me, and I know you worry about me because ‘you know how men are’, but Wooyoung is inoffensive, trust me. He’s odd and yeah, weird things happen around him, but I actually quite enjoy his personality. He’s a rational and down-to-earth guy, he tells me as things are and he’s quite fucking good at photography. I probably passed a few of my classes due to his help, so please, try not to think of him as a serial killer.”

Yunho shook his head and looked down, timidly intertwining our fingers, making me beam at him as I knew he wasn’t actually mad at me, “I’ll never like him, and if you freaking disappear, I’m going to dismember him and—”

“You sound like a serial killer right now—”

“And once the police get your case, they’ll tell me I was right, because that dude is nuts and has been trying to kill you for months now, but whatever.” Yunho scoffed and I rolled my eyes, squeezing his fingers between mine, “Let’s change the subject, I don’t want to go to classes angry.”

I grinned, leaning closer to his face, “You texted me something last night about a guy…”

Yunho’s cheeks flushed, and he yanked his hand out of mine as he stood and sat back in his initial seat, “Right, I think I have a new crush.”

I gasped, grinning from ear to ear, “Let me see him!”

Yunho cleared his throat as he unlocked his phone, his ears reddening as he opened Instagram, reluctantly turning his phone around. The guy looked familiar and I narrowed my eyes as I read his handle, wondering where I had seen him before. His eyes were sharp but he had dimples when he smiled. He looked shorter than Yunho, and that was weird, because Yunho preferred guys his height or taller than him.

“Is this Choi San?” Finally, his name clicked as I looked at Yunho with one raised eyebrow, making his eyes widen.

“You know him?” He asked surprised, turning his phone to look at San’s picture, “He’s on the university’s hockey team, majors in sports and such.”

“I know him,” I chuckled and leaned back in my seat, knowing that Yunho will hate what I was about to say next, “and he’s on pretty good terms with Wooyoung.”

Yunho’s face fell and he groaned loudly, throwing his head back, “Great.”

I chuckled and grabbed my cup of coffee, sipping on it as I watched Yunho have a visible meltdown in front of me. This man, he could be so dramatic at times. And maybe I lied a little bit, maybe San and Wooyoung on ‘pretty good terms’, but they did hang out…for business that I couldn’t disclose due to our unspoken dormmate confidentiality.

            Between two-hour long classes and everlasting lectures, I was lucky enough to have a two-hour break, away from all the brain maiming material that I had to sit through and study thoroughly for our fast-approaching exams. As I still had a project to finish, I was headed to the darkroom to check out if my negatives have developed well. It’s been a few days since I had been there, and I was curious to see how my pictures turned out. The porter of our university already knew me—like most photography majors—and as I knocked on his cubicle’s little window, he flashed me a grin and swiftly fetched the darkroom’s key. I thanked him as he handed it over and then I was off to the room, bouncing on my every second step as the hallways were littered with students eager to escape this hell-site. I shared their distaste for having to study so much, but I quite enjoyed what I was studying as long as it required of me to take photos and then present them to the teacher or to our class. Wooyoung, visibly to his horror, shared the same major as me and thus was forced to sit through lessons with me by his side, diligently taking notes and sometimes snorting at whatever the teacher was saying as I mockingly said it back to Wooyoung. He rarely reciprocated any of my jokes and even more rarely interacted back with me. Not that it bothered me, he usually ignored me even in the shared space of our dorm—unless it came to studying and things he didn’t understand. Like how a coffee maker machine worked, which was weird but I didn’t say anything about it to him. He had called himself an old soul or whatever, I didn’t dwell much on his words, unless he was screaming at me for accidentally sweeping up his little funky salt ‘barriers’ that he’d litter our dorm with. It wasn’t my fault I accidentally confused it with breadcrumbs as it was quite literally around our table in the kitchen.

The darkroom wasn’t too spacious nor lit up—hence its name—and I placed my backpack on a stool once I was inside, the door secured shut behind myself. I rolled up the sleeves of my jacket as I walked towards the hung-up strings, the ones I have put up there four days ago. I haven’t developed many negatives this time as I hadn’t taken many pictures, too busy studying instead of focusing on this project, but I was glad that they came out well. I gently took each one down from the string and took my time studying them, smiling as most were taken when I was hanging out with Yunho. However, there was one that was of my oh so lovely dormmate, Jung Wooyoung. He had been sitting on the floor at our coffee table in our living room when I had arrived home, too focused on scribbling things down to notice the click of our door’s lock. I stood in the doorway and took my time to take him in, rarely being able to see a serene look on his face. He was dressed in grey sweatpants and a loose black t-shirt, the strange runic like tattoos on display on his arms. There was barely an inch of skin bare, and as he was leaned forward, his t-shirt fell a little low and exposed his neck and collarbones, tattoos similar to the ones on his arms peeking through. The black ink was thick and it made me wonder whether it hurt like a bitch or not when he got them.

I had reached inside my backpack for my camera as Wooyoung’s upper teeth got caught in his lip ring, sucking it between his bottom lip and front teeth. You see, Wooyoung isn’t an unattractive guy and despite his odd behaviour, I am just a woman that appreciates gorgeous things. And so, I couldn’t be blamed for wondering what the lip ring feels like when it makes contact with your own lips, whether it’s bothersome or turns you on even more. Not wanting to pass up on the moment, I quickly snapped myself out of my thoughts and snapped a picture of Wooyoung just as he looked up. He looked taken aback, eyes widened and lower lip jutting out as I grinned and waved at him. His serene expression didn’t last for long, however, as his eyebrows furrowed and a glare made it onto his face. But I ignored it, like I always did, and then went up to him and joined him despite his complaints of wanting to be left alone. When I said he could go to his room and I wouldn’t ‘bother’ him anymore, he noted that the scent of the incense he had used was giving him a headache and he couldn’t stay inside his room today. What a bummer for him, all I saw was an opportunity to finally bond!

I chuckled at the memory as I unclasped the negative Wooyoung was on and excitedly raised it up, close to my face, to see it better. But I froze at the image, wondering whether I have messed up when I was developing the image. Somehow it seemed a little distorted, not much, but if you looked close enough you could see it. The background was unnaturally dark and it almost looked like it was leaving Wooyoung’s body under a mist like form, wrapping around his neck weirdly. The black ink on his skin seemed to be almost glowing and it was his face that made my heart race a little bit, wonder whether my hands were shaky or not when I took the photograph. His eyes seemed to be brightly glowing, only the whites of them visible—much like last night when he had come inside my room—and it made my stomach stir, bringing this unsettling feeling forward in my brain. I have never been scared of Wooyoung before, there wasn’t a reason as to why I would be scared of him, but now I found myself feeling uncomfortable the longer I looked at the picture. There was a creak behind me and my heart skipped a beat as I swiftly spun around, gasping in fright as Wooyoung stood with his hip leaning against a table, watching me with hooded eyes.

My heart started racing in my chest and I quickly hid the picture behind my back as I plastered on a wide smile, “Wooyoung! Hi! You scared me.”

He remained emotionless as he tilted his head, pushing off the table as he very slowly—as if I was his prey—approached me. My heart continued to race in my chest and I wondered how I missed him coming inside the room when the door’s handle was a little faulty and it made a lot of noise. I cleared my throat and watched him curiously, raising my eyebrows, “You’re here to develop some pictures for our project too?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Wooyoung muttered, his voice deeper than usual. I gulped and hummed quickly, trying to keep the smile on my face. I didn’t understand why I felt so nervous all of a sudden, why the hairs stood up on my arms. I shared a living space with Wooyoung, we’ve walked in on each other more than once when the other was showering or bathing—so why now was I feeling like I should be running away instead of waiting for him to reach me? It must be that Yunho’s words got to me, and I was already jumpy seeing the negative. Plus, it was dark and Wooyoung was dressed in all black too, his dark eyes almost invisible as the whites of them shinned brightly. He was dressed in ripped jeans that had scribbles on both pantlegs in a language I couldn’t understand, the soles of his thick boots high, making him taller. The white shirt he wore was buttoned up to his neck and peeking through the neckline of the black fuzzy sweater he had on top of it. Wooyoung’s raven hair had gotten longer these past few months and he had decided to let it grow out even longer, the strands now jelled back and falling messily in his eyes. Eyes, which were outlined with dark eyeshadow and kohl eyeliner, making him look menacing for once. His many earrings matched his silver piercings, and I felt myself step back when he was stood in front of me.

My heart was now racing so fast I could feel the vein thump in my neck, making it harder to breathe when a smoky and intense scent hit my nostrils, Wooyoung’s perfume had always been distinctive and strong, “Got something you want to show me?”

I gulped, eyebrows furrowing as Wooyoung took another step, backing me back up into the closet behind me. I chuckled and shook my head, feeling confused all of a sudden. His expression bore no emotions, but his lips slightly twitched and his eyes narrowed, and I could swear he looked almost amused.

“N-no, not really.” His lips pulled into a smirk and then he reached out, making me freeze as his arm went around my hip and his cold fingers lightly traced the back of my palm until he gripped the negative I was holding, and ripped it out of my grip. My eyes widened and I coughed as he chuckled, raising an eyebrow mockingly, “Oh, I—I took that when we were studying, remember?”

“I rarely forget things, Y/N.” Wooyoung’s voice dripped with honey, sounding too nice compared to how he usually talked to me, “You took this photo without my permission, now look how it turned out.”

I gulped and looked at it again as he turned it around for me to see, making me inhale deeply. Something still wasn’t right with the picture, but I suppose I fucked up when I had developed it. I exhaled and leaned back against the closet, giving him an easy smile, “It’s not you, I probably messed up developing it.”

Wooyoung’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and his smirk widened, he was almost leering, “It’s not me looking like a monster of your nightmares, but you messing up the developing of it?”

“Yup,” I shrugged and took the photo from his grip, smiling brightly again, “and I don’t have nightmares so I wouldn’t know what those sleep demons look like.”

Wooyoung’s sharp eyes narrowed and he leaned incredibly close, making me gulp as I laughed nervously under my breath, feeling a little weird due to our sudden proximity. He usually fled the room if I was inside it, and if we happened to accidentally touch he’d glare at me and rub at his skin as if I had rabies or something, “Would you like to meet one?”

“Not really,” I scoffed, quite glad that I had my peaceful sleep every night, “besides, I have my own little demon living with me, why want another one?”

“What?” Wooyoung froze, expression falling as I giggled and playfully pushed his shoulder.

“You’re a little rascal,” I started, giving him a smug look, “you act like you hate me, but I know deep down you’re secretly into me.”

Wooyoung scoffed as if I had said something very inconvenient to him, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I cannot stand you, Y/N, you’re too cheery and irritating.”

“Sure.” I giggled and leaned forward, our faces merely inches away once again. Wooyoung’s eyes flickered down for a second, then all over my face before he was back to glaring deeply into my eyes, “Are you possessed by a little demon or something? Is that why you sometimes act so animus?”

Wooyoung chuckled, his lip pulling back into a smirk as he turned his head and leaned forward, lips brushing against my ear. I froze once again, taken aback by how bold he was being. Like I had said, he hated it when we touched.

His lip ring felt weird against my warm ear, and I gulped as his voice had dropped lower than ever before, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I would, very much so.

            Today has been a long day. It almost felt like it never wanted to come to an end. Maybe because I’ve been studying all day long, blessed as our one and only Friday class got cancelled due to our professor catching a nasty flu, and so, I could sleep in and then…study all day long thanks to my misfortune. It was tiring, brain maiming, and absolutely atrociously torturous. But I have survived it and now I’m twice as smart as I was before I thought of looking through the professor’s power point presentations and the book he wrote and selflessly promotes every chance he gets. I mean, I get it, money from a side hustle always comes in quite handy. But the torture and suffering are over now, and all I have to do is get ready for tonight’s movie date with Yunho! We had been planning on having a movie night for quite a while now, but failed to find an evening when we were both free. We have agreed that as long as Yunho brought the snacks and alcohol, I’d be the one cooking for the night. Which turned out to be a fun and entertaining feat to do after the day I have had. The little speaker connected to my phone was blasting my favourite ass-shaking music as I cooked the ramen, probably having bought too much for just two people. But that wasn’t an issue, at least Wooyoung and I would have leftovers for tomorrow. The little sausages were the first thing I got to prepare as I fried them in a pan in a little sunflower oil since they work well with corn-cheese and the ramen I was preparing.

I was in the middle of stirring the ramen with one hand and putting more mayo into the bowl containing the corn as I was nearly shouting the lyrics of the song playing, unaware of the presence lurking behind myself. I raised my right hand holding the spatula in the air, hitting the beat as I scratchily whipped out my best high note to match the singer’s, shaking my ass in the process as I whirled around, jumping just slightly forward. Something cold and sharp poked my abdomen where my crop top had ridden up, and my eyes widened as I jumped in fright having come face to face with my dormmate, Wooyoung. His expression was cold and very unimpressed, brows set in a deep frown and lips pulled into a grimace that screamed disgust, and—his favourite butcher knife was clutched tightly in his right hand, the sharp edge of it pressing just slightly against my flesh.

“Wooyoung!” I exclaimed with a grin and scurried off to lower the volume of my music, “Hi! I didn’t hear you coming in.”

“With the way the music was blaring, I’m not surprised.” Wooyoung hasn’t moved from his spot as I went to take the cooked ramen off the stove, making way for my corn-cheese.

“Sorry, figured since I was alone it wouldn’t be bothering anyone—”

“Just our neighbours.” Wooyoung muttered and then finally moved, lowering the knife as he walked up next to me, leaning against the counter. The knife was still held firmly in his hand, but upon one prolonged stare at the side of my face, he placed it on the counter with a drawn-out sigh. I flashed him a wide smile as I placed the ramen away from the edge of the counter, not wanting the pot it was cooked in to burn our skin if we were to accidentally touch it.

“Yunho is coming over in a bit to watch a movie, do you mind?” I asked Wooyoung as I went back to the stove, placing another pan onto it before I poured some oil in it. Wooyoung grimaced, giving me a small glare as he suddenly approached me, pushing my hand away when I went to grab the bowl of corn, mayo, and a little bit of butter.

“My kin is coming over too.” I giggled at the weird word he used for the term friend, already knowing who he was talking about. The tall guy, as tall as Yunho probably, was a rather intimidating guy, more so than Wooyoung was. His sharp eyes were piercing and he always scrunched up his nose when he looked at me, tilting his head as his eyes followed my every move. He was quite the oddball, but he was hilarious, and besides that Choi San guy, he was the only one who could make Wooyoung laugh so loudly that it sounded like I was living with an evil witch or something. Mingi was quite cool and rather similar to Wooyoung, I could see why the two were friends.

“If Mingi is coming over too,” I grinned as I leaned closer to Wooyoung, but he was busy pouring the corn into the pan to notice me, “the four of us could have a movie night!”

“Absolutely not—” Wooyoung flinched as his head whipped around, probably surprised by the proximity. I chuckled and leaned away, grabbing the cheese as I sprinkled it over the corn in the frying pan, “Mingi and I don’t want to join you for your stupid movie night.”

“Wooyoung,” I whined, pouting in a way I knew would irk him, “please, I already made too much food. Mingi loves ramen and corn-cheese, you always make it for him when he comes over. Wooyoung, please, don’t be a party popper!”

I knew the whiney and high-pitched tone I used would drive Wooyoung up the wall, and he squeezed his eyes shut and then hissed when I leaned closer to bat my eyelashes at him in a disgustingly cute way. He didn’t appreciate it, obviously, and gave me a nasty stare.

“I’ll burn you alive if you act like that ever again.” I gasped in delight as Wooyoung threw another harsh glare at me, knowing that he had given in already. I blew him a small kiss and squeezed his bicep playfully as he wore a loose sleeveless tank top. The blank ink looked to be swirling around underneath his sun-kissed skin, and my eyes lingered on them before I went to wash up the dishes I have used for cooking.

            Despite Wooyoung’s initial sour mood and snarky comments, once the four of us got together, him and Yunho seemed to be enjoying themselves the most as the two of them forced Mingi and I through a variety of board games. I was in a team with Yunho and Wooyoung with Mingi, and the two were at each other’s throats as Mingi and I sat back and let them battle it out in Activity. But Mingi, having been ogling Yunho since the second he stepped foot in Wooyoung and I’s dorm, wanted to switch up the teams and due to his plan backfiring, the two of us were stuck as teammates in a game that we were so very embarrassingly loosing as Yunho and Wooyoung powered through all stages, obliterating us as best as they could. Having known Yunho for more than five years, I could notice the subtle jabs he’d send at Wooyoung, the way he’d ‘accidentally’ elbow him in the ribs way too often, or the way he barely let Wooyoung do his own thing once they became teammates. Wooyoung being rather smart had noticed it too, and besides the unimpressed glances and hasty glares, he let Yunho be without voicing his ever-growing irritation.

Alcohol got mixed into our games, and after we ate the dinner I had cooked, it seemed like everyone got bolder as we started randomly throwing shots back of whatever hard liquor Yunho had bought, our actions to be regretted probably tomorrow. The music was turned up to a normal volume so that it wouldn’t bother our neighbours and our laughter echoed in the living room more often than not. The alcohol made my skin feel tingly and there was a pleasant buzz in the back of my head, up-lifting my mood even more as I let loose after the stressful day I have had. Yunho, tipsy but not dumb, stuck to my side as best as he could, muttering things to me about Wooyoung he had noticed, and I decided to let him be and nod along to whatever far-fetched thing he was saying. Like the fact that his tattoos looked rather like pagan sigils used in witchcraft than just normal tattoos, or the fact that his eyes continued getting hazier and darker the further we got into the night, the whites of his eyes almost glowing. And then there was his irrational fear of Mingi, flinching away any time the blonde as much as looked his way, making Yunho almost climb on my back when Mingi decided to sit next to him, their legs and shoulders brushing against each other. I had to give it to Yunho, there was something weird about Mingi that I haven’t noticed before. He looked to be borderline salivating and it was almost as if he was constantly sniffing the air—and if he leaned in and took a deep waft of the air after Yunho basically ran off to the bathroom, I decided to store that away in the back of my head and analyse it another day. Similar to Wooyoung, Mingi had thick tattoos lining his chest—he was rather fond of deep cut V tank tops—and his arms had wire-like ink decorating his fair skin. The guy sometimes looked sickly, and his platinum hair only added to his pale complexion. I have asked Wooyoung more than once if Mingi was okay, and apparently, he just rarely went out in the sun. Come to think of it, the two had similar dressing styles and even spoke similarly; maybe they are from the same province.

Before we’d sit down and start the movie—something Yunho has chosen and I already forgot the name of—I went to the kitchen to mix another cocktail for myself, a lot tamer and less alcohol infused compared to the last one Mingi had mixed for me. I was in the process of pouring Vodka into my tall glass just as Yunho came basically bulldozering inside the kitchen. His eyes were wide as I looked back, and his cheeks were completely flushed, having reached his ears even. My eyebrows rose and I chuckled amused as he rushed to the sink and turned on the cold water, splashing his face and soaking the collar of his white t-shirt, his silver rosary not hidden underneath his t-shirt anymore.

“Are you okay—” Before I could finish my sentence, his head whipped around and he gave me a wide-eyed stare.

“No!” He exclaimed and then glanced behind himself frantically, as if he was being chased by a monster and had to hide, “That guy—Mingi­, there’s something very wrong with him, Y/N!”

“What do you mean?” I asked confused, grabbing the cranberry juice to mix the Vodka with, “Does this have to do anything with your whole belief of Wooyoung being a serial killer?”

“But he is!” Yunho whisper-exclaimed, crowding against my side as he leaned down so that he could continue whispering, “And Mingi isn’t completely sane either—he sniffed me in the hallway when we crossed paths when I was coming here and he was going to the bathroom! He literally leaned in, crowded me against the wall, and sniffed me, Y/N!”

I pressed my lips together and hummed, closing the lid of the cranberry juice as I grabbed a teaspoon to mix the drinks, “Yeah, he’s probably drunk too. People act weird when they are drunk. Remember that one time my ex tried to jump out of a window almost blackout drunkenly?”

“That’s—Hongjoong was a freak! You can’t compare him to Wooyoung and Mingi!” I leaned against the counter and raised my eyebrows at my best friend, intrigued all of a sudden where this conversation was going.

“So are you saying you two slept together because he was a freak and not because maybe he’s not so straight and you were drunk as fuck—” Yunho’s eyes widened into saucers and he pressed his palm against my mouth, his blush spreading down to his neck and no doubt to his chest. He looked mortified as he gaped, apparently struggling to find his words just yet.

“That—that was—that’s irreal! I never—I didn’t even know he was into me!” Poor Yunho, I tried to maintain a serious face as he spiraled even more into despair, his other hand clutching my nape, “Girl, we agreed to never bring that up, why are we talking about Hongjoong and I sleeping together, I—wait, I thought you didn’t care, Y/N, is this why you love to torture me? Because you secretly hate me?! You weren’t even together anymore; you have long forgotten about him and I was on a resort on a vacation with my miserable family and he was there and he was hot and I just—”

The laughter I couldn’t hold back anymore was loud and atrocious as I threw my head back, my throat starting to hurt from how loud it was. I could feel tears spring into my eyes as I held onto the counter for dear life, Yunho becoming speechless as he grabbed my glass and took a long sip of my drink. My belly was shaking and contracting from the good laugh I had, and once I had calmed down, I had to wipe my tears away. Yunho looked a mixture of angry, in despair and amused, and I threw myself at him as my arms tangled around his neck, hugging him tightly like I knew he liked it. His body was tense, but then he slowly eased up into the embrace and returned the tight hug, sighing loudly into my ear.

“Baby, Hongjoong is a closed chapter—has been for long—I’m actually glad you got the best lay of your life with my ex, even I can’t deny he wasn’t good in bed.” A beat of silence passed before we burst out laughing at the same time, Yunho’s body shaking as he nuzzled his nose against my neck affectionately, “How the fuck did we end up talking about Hongjoong when you were just being paranoid over Mingi for no reason?”

“Not for ‘no reason’, woman!” Yunho exclaimed and pulled back, eyebrows furrowed as he grabbed my glass again and took a long sip—there goes the drink I mixed for myself, “He looks at me like he wants to eat me—”

“Is that so bad?” I wriggled my eyebrows suggestively and Yunho groaned, grabbing my chin.

“Focus, woman.” He pointed his finger at me in warning, and I giggled as I stuck my tongue out, licking at his hand because I knew it would disgust him, “In an ideal setting, it wouldn’t be bad, but his saliva was literally dripping down his chin, Y/N! And I don’t know how else to put this into words, but he looks demonic, okay?!”

I chuckled, my eyebrows shooting up at what my best friend just said. Okay, we were apparently reaching the delirious stage of drunkenness, “Well then…Wooyoung and Mingi are one demonic bestie duo, huh?”

“I am being serious!” Yunho exclaimed in annoyance, fed up that I wasn’t on the same wave length as him, “You’re so irritating, you never believe me. But you will see it’s going to bite you in the ass—”

“Isn’t that what you want Mingi to do to you—”

“We’re watching that movie, now!” Yunho pressed his palm against my mouth again as I giggled, grabbing a bottle of water as Yunho took my glass and pulled me after himself, back inside the living room. Mingi was sprawled out on the sofa with Wooyoung sitting in front of the bed, typing away on his phone. As Yunho and I barged inside, Wooyoung lowered the volume of the music and Mingi sat up, eyes almost glowing as he leered in Yunho’s direction. My giant best friend grimaced and gave me a pointed stare as he went to fetch the remote control.

“Are we watching that movie now?” Wooyoung asked unimpressed, raising one eyebrow as I plopped down on the pillow next to him, leaning close as I grinned.

“Yes, excited?!”

“No, I’d rather be sleeping.” Wooyoung muttered and gave me a short glare before he grabbed the glass Yunho had placed on the coffee table to take a long sip of it.

“Hey! I made that drink for myself, why is everyone else drinking it but me?!” I whined and slapped away Wooyoung’s hand as he placed it back onto the coffee table, barely anything in the glass anymore, “Asshole.”

Wooyoung smirked as he looked at me, making me roll my eyes at him. Yunho, huffing loudly as he ruffled his brown hair had finally found the remote control as he joined us, leaning against the sofa, eyes switching between myself and all the empty space next to Mingi, “Won’t you sit with me?”

“I’m going to sit with you.” Mingi’s deep voice was strong and determined as he grabbed Yunho’s arm, basically yanking him down next to himself. Yunho went stiff as his eyes widened, sending me SOS signals with his eyes, but I just chuckled and turned my back to him, knowing that I’d never hear the end of it. Wooyoung’s jaw hung open as he gave his friend a rather nasty glare, subtly shaking his head no at Mingi, the two communicating with their gazes. I snatched the remote control from Yunho and finally turned on the TV, wanting to get on with this movie watching already. If I heard Yunho gasp and looked back to see Mingi squeezed uncomfortably tightly against his side, eyes boring into the side of my best friend’s head, I bit back the laugh that threatened to bubble up and instead kicked Wooyoung’s leg to annoy him.

            The movie took nearly three hours and by the time we have watched it everyone was sleepy, and so, the movie night was cut short as the time was nearing 2am. Yunho was drunk, not to the point that he wouldn’t be able to take care of himself, but he’s had brighter times. I proposed to him to sleep over tonight, but he insisted on going home as he apparently had to be somewhere early in the morning tomorrow. I just shrugged and then offered to walk him home, having sobered up enough, but he insisted he was a big guy and that he could take care of himself. And as if Mingi had been planning for this moment, he swept in and said that he’d make sure Yunho got home safely and that he'd text Wooyoung to let me know my best friend was safe and sound in his little apartment. I didn’t know how to proceed next, knowing that Yunho felt uncomfortable around Mingi, but when I opened my mouth to interject, Yunho threw a heated look Mingi’s way and scoffed, clumsily tying his shoelaces as he accepted Mingi’s offer, yanking the blonde man out of our dorm by the collar of his leather jacket. Wooyoung just blinked and then gave me a lasting look, sighing deeply as he muttered something under his breath which sounded a lot like Yunho had no idea what he had just done. Suddenly feeling a little bit skeptical, I could only hope Yunho was wrong about this whole serial killer fiasco.

“Mingi’s a good guy, right?” I had asked as I followed Wooyoung into the kitchen, my phone still connected to the speaker as music was quietly playing in the background.

“Why, do you fear for your beloved Yunho’s life?” Wooyoung’s voice was coated in amusement, but there was something darker in its undertone, almost morbid like fascination. I was taken aback and hesitated for a second in the doorway.

“He’s my best friend, somebody I love. Of course I fear for his life, should I call the cops—”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Wooyoung’s eyes were crinkled as he turned his head, the first time he’s ever looked amused by something I have said, “Mingi won’t do to him anything your friend doesn’t want. I know you noticed him acting weird, but that’s just what alcohol does to Mingi.”

I felt myself relax a little upon hearing Wooyoung’s words, and I grinned as I waltzed inside the kitchen, pulling myself up to sit on the counter by the sink, “I knew it, I told Yunho he was just overreacting, but he never really believes me.”

Wooyoung paused for a second and then turned on the faucet, taking the sponge to pour dishwasher on it, “Maybe you’d live longer if you had listened to him…”

My eyebrows furrowed as I handed Wooyoung the first dirty bowl, “What do you mean?”

He chuckled as he washed the bowl and I crossed my legs, narrowing my eyes at him. He didn’t seem drunk despite having drunk twice the alcohol I have, but then again, I didn’t know much about him. He was quite the mysterious person and kept everyone at arms-length. However, I did notice he was touchier than usual, kissing Mingi’s cheeks rather often while we were playing board games, especially if Mingi nailed something.

“You’re naïve,” Wooyoung answered as he looked at me, taking the other used bowl I handed him, “and too trusting of others, my love. People will take advantage of you.”

“Nobody’s taken advantage of me before.” I huffed and watched as Wooyoung washed the rest of the dishes, a smirk on his lips as he kept glancing at me, “And just because of what I seem to be like to you and to other people doesn’t mean I’m dumb, or that I don’t notice things.”

Wooyoung smirked as he grabbed onto the edge of the sink, leaning closer to me as his eyes seemed a lot darker than they usually were, “Really now? Do you just play dumb then, for the fun of it?”

“Not for the fun of it,” I averted my eyes as Wooyoung bit his bottom lip, his eyes raking over my body as I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling a little flustered under his watchful gaze, “it just happens, it’s what my personality is like—and I know you don’t like me.”

“I’ve never said I don’t like you.” Wooyoung tsked, leaning closer as he continued to wash a pan, “I’m just not too fond of obnoxious personas.”

I scoffed and grinned at him fakely, making him smirk for the nth time tonight as he turned his head and looked down at the pan he was washing. I didn’t say anything to him as I continued looking at him, wondering whether the lights were playing a trick on my eyes, or whether the black ink really seemed to swirl under his skin. A bit too curious and with the last remnants of the alcohol in my system pushing me to do as I wished, I tentatively reached out and gently traced the abstract tattoos on his left arm. Wooyoung froze, eyebrows furrowing as he whipped his head around, his serene demeanor back to its unimpressed and glaring one. His muscles tensed the longer my fingers touched his soft, but unnaturally hot, flesh and he suddenly turned the water off with his other hand, all the dishes washed. I snapped out of it and gulped nervously as I looked away, turning away from Wooyoung. I could feel his eyes on me as he walked towards the table and grabbed a towel to dry his hands in, lips slowly morphing into another attractive smirk.

“You know,” He started, voice low and almost sultry, “humans usually cherish their lives and have a deep rotted fear of losing it.”

I hummed and picked at the cuticle of my thumb, seeing him approach the counter from my peripheral vision.

“I’ve never quite met someone like you,” He paused and chuckled, and I saw him grab something from my peripheral as I had drawn blood from ripping the cuticle up, “a little stupid and ditzy, yet loving life so intensely.”

I gulped and finally looked up, eyes falling on Wooyoung’s right hand as it was slowly inching towards his abandoned butcher knife. I felt a lump raise into my throat as I looked back in his eyes, the same feeling that I have felt in the darkroom returning. I felt like his prey once again, defenseless and unable to run or hide if he were to do something unacceptable to me. His dark eyes seemed like endless pits of darkness, boring into mine as its whites seemed to glow brighter. I gulped again, hoping for the lump to disappear, but instead, something deep coiled in my stomach as his thin fingers wrapped around the handle of the butcher knife, his plush lips pulling into a sly smirk. He looked amused; his sun-kissed skin almost glowing as if he was feeding off of something. His upper teeth got caught in the silver piercing in his bottom lip, and I found myself wondering again what he tasted liked. I cleared my throat and licked my lips, our gazes connecting as Wooyoung raised one eyebrow, looking like he knew something I didn’t. My heart had picked up its rhythm, beating quickly, almost in anticipation as he dragged his hand against the counter, the sound of the knife getting dragged across the counter making me wince.

“You should have left when you still could—” I didn’t think for another second, pushing the alarming bells to the back of my mind as I jumped off the counter, marching up to him. Wooyoung seemed taken aback by my confident stance, and as his eyebrows furrowed, whatever he was about to say swallowed down, the littlest remnants of alcohol in my bloodstream fueled my curiosity strong enough to make me grab onto his cheeks and yank our lips together. Wooyoung yelped, the sound getting lost in the back of his throat as my eyebrows furrowed, his face just as hot as his arm was. But I was curious—and sort of needy from all that alcohol—and so I didn’t pull back, no, I pressed my lips harder against his, his silver lip ring cutting into my own lips. I ignored the tiny voice in the back of my head telling me to run, to get as far away as possible from this peculiar man. Suddenly, I felt his left hand grab my wrist harshly. My heart was hammering against my chest, making my temples sweat as Wooyoung’s body heat was too warm, and at last, I decided to pull away. Now at least I knew what his plush lips felt like, soft and a little wet, the lip ring prominent and cold against the flushed skin.

My grip loosened around his cheeks and I had started pulling back when suddenly something loudly crashed against the tile floors, and both of Wooyoung’s hands had me pulling back in by the cheeks as his calloused hands harshly cradled against my cheek. My eyebrows shot up, but I fluttered my eyes closed again and instead pressed our bodies together, fingers tangling into his loose t-shirt at his sides. Wooyoung’s perfume was still as overbearing as always, and it made me feel lightheaded as he suddenly parted his lips, sucking my lower lip between his teeth to clamp down onto it harshly. I hissed and tangled one hand into his long black hair, slightly yanking on the strands to get him to release my bottom lip. Wooyoung chuckled deep in the back of his throat and finally released my lip, pulling back. My eyes opened as I threw him a glare, and from being this close to him, I could finally see his eyes were black and the whites of them were actually glowing. Before I could allow my brain to really react to that discovery, I pressed my lips back against Wooyoung’s, walking him backwards as our lips slotted against each other perfectly. Our pace wasn’t slow and sweet nor patient, it was rather rushed and sloppy as Wooyoung kept trying to bite onto my lower lip, his teeth feeling sharper than anyone’s before; he could’ve drawn blood if he wanted to.

He gasped when he collided against the table and I smirked as I pushed him against it, throwing my left arm around his shoulders as I played with his hair with my right hand, Wooyoung’s legs parting as he leaned against the table comfortably. To tease him as I figured he’d hate it, I pulled back just enough to lick at his lips, prompting him to tsk and open up his lips enough for me to slip my tongue past them and into his open and inviting mouth. Wooyoung moaned in an instant, fingers of his left hand digging into my lower back, my t-shirt having ridden up, his nails burning my skin as they dug into it, and I felt my legs go a little weak as he eagerly sucked on my tongue, more moans leaving the back of his throat. I didn’t think he’d be very vocal, and suddenly I felt heated all over as he pulled me even more into himself, to the point it was almost painful, his right hand holding onto my neck firmly, fingers curling around my skin.

I let him lick into my mouth, explore it to his liking as my left hand travelled down his shoulder to his pecks, squeezing and fondling his nipple through the t-shirt, making Wooyoung groan as he suddenly whirled us around, placing me up on the table. I gasped and found myself pushed down against the table by the hand Wooyoung had around my throat, his eyes glazed over as I struggled to catch my breath, Wooyoung’s chest was rising and falling rapidly as well. His lips looked swollen and I bit my bottom lip as Wooyoung ever so slowly leaned down. His fingers tightened around my neck and made my stomach coil as he suddenly leaned down, lips brushing against the exposed skin of my lower stomach due to my tank top having ridden up again.

The breath stuttered in my throat as he pressed his lips firmly against my skin, his piercing feeling cold against my flushed skin, and I grabbed his wrist with one hand as he teasingly sunk his teeth into the skin of my stomach, making me grunt as I looked down. But he was already looking up with a smirk on his lips, chin brushing against my exposed skin. I gulped, my grip tightening against his wrist as he held eye contact while slowly kissing his way up, making the hairs on my arms stand up. I trapped him in between my legs as I raised my thighs and wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him closer in as he lit my skin on fire with his kisses, making it harder to breathe as he squeezed my neck just a little bit more, making me gulp almost nervously.

Wooyoung’s lips were finally hovering over mine and our breaths fanned each other’s faces as we stared down each other, probably wondering where this was going. I tangled my fingers of my free hand in his hair again and brought his head closer down so that I could gently take his lip ring between my teeth, making Wooyoung’s eyes widen as he whined quite loudly. I didn’t expect him to curse nor to slam his lips right onto mine next, let alone feel his bulge as he rutted against my thigh, making me moan as I was slowly starting to crave some friction. Wooyoung seemed too far gone to care about the quality of the kiss as his lips moved messily against mine, biting at my lips and sucking on my tongue as he rolled his hips against mine more frequently, driving me closer to wanting more. And I didn’t dwell much on the feeling, I grabbed the hand he had rested next to my head and gently guided it down my body, letting it rest where I needed him most. Wooyoung moaned loudly as he pulled back, cupping my clothed core and applying the slightest pressure, making me sigh loudly as I bared my neck more for him to do whatever he wanted with it.

And then—as quickly as everything happened, it all stopped. Wooyoung’s body almost flew off mine, eyes wide and expression conveying complete shock as he stared down at me sprawled out on the table and I stopped breathing for a second as I stared up at him. Yeah, I guess we shouldn’t have done that, perhaps my curiosity led me a bit too far. But I couldn’t deny it anymore, Wooyoung was attractive. He wiped his mouth with the back of his palm and I chuckled as I sat up, running my fingers through my hair.

“This—”

“I’m going to sleep.” I cut him off as I announced with a chuckle, hoping off the table, watching Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Thanks for the kiss, handsome.”

“What the fuck,” Wooyoung muttered and he turned after me as I walked past him, “you know how to make-out?”

I snorted as I paused in the doorway, giving him a sneaky look, “I’m not that naïve anymore, am I?”

“Goodnight.” Wooyoung’s voice had turned cold, unimpressed once again. I chuckled as suddenly Wooyoung’s expression turned nonchalant again, and I shook my head as I was off to sleep off the alcohol and pray that I wouldn’t be hungover in the morning.

            And as expected, the alcohol I have drank last night came back full force in the morning, to bite me in the ass. The bile in my throat that threatened to send me running to the bathroom refused to go away, and feeling like a complete zombie, I had no choice but to get out of bed and brew some coffee for myself. It was the only thing that could help this awful hungover, and I stood stared blindly at the counter as I listened to the shitty coffee machine make noises it wasn’t supposed to make. Wooyoung didn’t like coffee, so it was mostly me who used it, and because I didn’t have enough money, I couldn’t buy a better machine. This one would do for two more months, until I was finished with this university year—not that I was too happy of moving back home for the summer break, but it had to be done as I didn’t have a job yet and couldn’t stay in the city. Yunho would probably let me move in with him, but I didn’t want to bother him as long as I didn’t have a job. I sighed as my phone on the table dinged once, then twice, then thrice, and I dragged myself to it very lazily and painfilled. Yunho’s contact name stared back at me as I curiously tapped onto his message, wondering if he was feeling any better than I was.

My fake boyfie<3: Y/N. I…might have fucked up Can I come over?

My eyebrows raised as I walked back to the coffee machine to turn it off, desperate to feel the first drop of caffeine on my tongue.

Me: I’m on the brink of death and I also have to study Did something bad happen? Can’t you tell me through text? My fake boyfie<3: I don’t want to type this down, but it can wait Don’t mind that your best friend is on the brink of death too, for other reasons than you…

I scoffed and took a sip of my coffee, the plainness of it harsh, but very much so welcomed right now.

Me: Stop being dramatic and tell me instead. My fake boyfie<3: Are you free tomorrow for brunch? Me: Sure am, see you at our usual spot? My fake boyfie<3: Yes…unless I get abducted by a fucking demon Y/N. Me: Lol, okay Not you being paranoid again Ttyl

The loud footsteps coming to a stop in the doorway made me look up from my phone, and I smiled upon seeing Wooyoung’s dishevelled form. Someone had a good night’s sleep, apparently, and seemed rather fine despite the many drinks he’s had, interesting.

“Morning.” I smiled at Wooyoung as I leaned against the counter behind me, taking a sip of my coffee. His eyes narrowed as he walked inside the kitchen, never leaving me as he was headed towards the fridge. I snorted and watched as he grabbed the cartoon of milk greedily, then let the fridge door slam shut.

“Shouldn’t you be hungover?” He asked, eyes narrowing as I downed the remaining bitter coffee in one go.

“I am, but can’t let that stop me.” I shrugged, and walked to the sink to wash my cup.

“It’s a full moon tonight, are you going anywhere out?” Wooyoung’s voice sounded suspiciously nice and forced, and I threw him a quick quizzical glance before turning the faucet off.

“No, I have to study for our exam on Monday.” I sighed and wiped my hands down on my pyjama pants.

“Good.” My eyebrows furrowed as Wooyoung smirked, turning his back to me as he muttered something under his breath. Knowing that I couldn’t waste any more time on useless things, I walked back to my room to study some last-minute things I have missed out on previously. Wooyoung and his quirkiness could wait for another day to be deciphered.

            Studying with a hangover was the worst possible idea I’ve ever had, but since I have procrastinated terribly, I had no choice but to power through the suffering like a champ, and save the whining for another day. By 10pm I felt completely brainless and tired out of my mind—quite literally—and so, I have decided it was time to call it a day. I have studied as much as possible, and now I felt positive about passing this class—unless the teacher has something secretly against me, unlike with Wooyoung, with whom he isn’t so secretive about the fact that he can’t stand my dormmate. With a rumbling stomach and body begging for a long and refreshing shower, I pulled my hair into a bun with the short strands falling out annoyingly so, and changed into some fresh pajamas so that I wouldn’t have to carry it with me to the bathroom. I stepped into my flip flops and shut the lights off, throwing my door open.

The first thing I noticed was the salt weirdly scattered in a perfect line right underneath my doorway. That wasn’t there in the morning, and I have never seen Wooyoung place it there before, so I made sure not to smudge it as I stepped over it—for some weird reason waiting for something to happen. But nothing did, and so, with a shrug, I closed the door behind me and looked around the dark living room. Smog seemed to lightly coat the air, and I scrunched my nose up at the overbearing scent of something strong—rather earthy and weed-like smelling—making me wonder what Wooyoung was up to.

I knew his room was off limits, but I also knew he was home. And the smog seemed to come from underneath his door. The whole dorm seemed to hum lowly, hushed voices traveling through Wooyoung’s closed door, and I bit my bottom lip, wondering whether I should approach him or not. But I’ve never been inside his room before and I was curious—I have always been—and almost as if I couldn’t control myself, I found my feet carrying me towards it. The hushed voices turned into low whispers the closer I got, and I found them changing in pitch as I gulped nervously, raising my hand to knock on his door. Despite the weird drive to barge inside, I felt myself hesitate for a second—and then I was knocking on his door, not waiting for an answer as I pulled it open and stepped inside. However, the sight I was presented with wasn’t something usual, nor one I had expected to see.

Wooyoung’s room was coated in pitch darkness, except for the black candles that were placed in a circle and lit up, barely illuminating the weird sign that was painted on the floorboard with black ink. Salt was drawn in a circle around the candles and the drawing, and the room reeked of that earthy and weed-like smell I have felt earlier, making me cough. Wooyoung was sat on his knees inside the circle, in the middle of it, three different ancient looking books opened up, one of them sizzling slightly. He wore a sleeveless tank top once again and grey sweatpants, the black ink underneath his skin darker than before as it swirled around, curling around his arms in weird patterns. The floorboard outside of the salt and candle circle was covered in different runes—I could only assume that’s what they were—and as Wooyoung’s gaze met mine, I was taken aback by his completely black eyes. The whites of them were completely gone, and they instead looked like endless pits of blackness, keeping me rooted to my spot as my eyes widened. When he grinned widely, his teeth were sharper and much whiter than usually, and the image sent my heart into a frenzy.

“Well, well, well,” Wooyoung chuckled, sitting back on his ankles, “exactly who I needed, thank you for making this easier for me.”

I gulped, feeling unsure and really confused, “Uh, what’s this?”

“I suppose since you’re about to die, I can tell you…” Wooyoung chuckled as his fingers touched the yellow paper of the book he had right in front of himself, “It’s a death ritual, my love, more exactly a sacrificial one.”

“Oh,” I whispered, feeling the hairs on my arms stand up, “that’s—I thought satanism is illegal?!”

Wooyoung threw his head back and laughed darkly, making a shiver run down my spine, “Satanism is beyond me, my love, I am what satanist love to blindly and dumbly worship.”

I gulped, eyebrows furrowing as I tried to think whatever that could mean as Wooyoung’s eyes fell back on my figure, narrowing as he leered at me, “So you’re like…a cult leader then?”

Wooyoung’s expression fell for a second, jaw clenching as there was a snort coming from somewhere I couldn’t see. My eyebrows furrowed as I surveyed the room, but the darkness was too permeating for me to see anything beyond it. The candlelight cast eerie shadows over Wooyoung’s face as he grabbed something that lay next to his left hand—his favourite butcher knife. I gulped and considered leaving the room for a second, but I felt rooted to my spot, like something was keeping me there.

“You’re so dumb, it’s tiring at this point.” Wooyoung hissed and I chuckled, scratching the back of my head in embarrassment, “But I also must be grateful to your naivety, or else you wouldn’t still be here.”

“I pretty much don’t want to be here anymore, but I find it hard to leave when something invisible is clutching at my ankles.” I grinned widely at Wooyoung, feeling a little panic rising up in my veins as he chuckled, slowly standing up. Why did he look taller than before? That wasn’t a good sign, was it?! I chewed on my bottom lip, tensely watching out for his next move. That butcher knife clutched tightly in his right hand didn’t seem so inoffensive anymore.

“Are you terrified now that your useless little cross can’t do anything to protect you from me?” My eyebrows raised in surprise as I looked down, patting the golden cross that sat underneath my hoodie. I never thought Wooyoung noticed my necklace, I always wore it underneath my clothes as I wasn’t a very religious person. I only wore it because my mother thought it would protect me from demonic and evil entities and energies. Don’t know about that anymore…Wooyoung looks pretty demonic to me right now.

“I’m more confused than terrified, to be honest, Wooyoung.” I chuckled and shrugged at the same time, ignoring the cold sweat my body broke out in all of a sudden. My heart was still pounding fast in my chest, but I ignored it.

“I can’t be bothered anymore with you; you are so irritating.” Wooyoung groaned as he twirled the knife in his hands, “I am going to stab you, and you won’t scream. And before blood loss can kill you, I’m going to carve your heart out.”

Well, shit. That didn’t sound too pleasant, nor like a fun time. I gulped, my mouth having gone dry, and I plastered on my friendliest and most innocent smile, hoping that it would somehow change Wooyoung’s mind and make him like me in just a few seconds. Perhaps he’d choose someone else for his sacrifice then, “Okay, but…may I know why you chose me for this complicated and totally cool sacrifice of yours?”

Wooyoung froze for a second, looking puzzled as deep giggles came from somewhere in the darkness again, making me look around confused. Was there actually someone else in the room with us?

For a second, the look Wooyoung gave me screamed that I was completely mad, and then he pinched his nose and heaved out a long sigh, “I need someone pure and innocent for this ritual to work. You see, I’m a demon but I’m not exactly very powerful, nor everlasting, just yet and the heart and blood of a virgin will help me rise in the ranks.”

Oh, “Wooyoung, uhm, this is a little bit awkward, but, uh, what I’m getting from what you just said is that you assume I’m a virgin?”

Wooyoung smirked as he stepped over his ancient looking books, “Exactly. You’re perfect for me, my love, I have to thank you—”

“Actually, you don’t.” I cut him off with a chuckle, pushing my hair behind my ears as I felt my cheeks flush, “I’m not a virgin.”

Wooyoung froze, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. There was another loud snort in the room, and my eyes narrowed as I tried to see past the darkness to notice an even darker form, but I wasn’t successful, “You can’t lie to me, there’s nothing you’ll say that will save you now—”

“I’m not lying, though.” I shrugged, clasping my hands together behind my back, “I really am not a virgin.”

“What?” Wooyoung scoffed, eyebrows furrowing as he took me in, his dark eyes raking over my body slowly, “How is that possible?!”

“Wait,” I deadpanned, mouth falling open in hurt, “are you saying all this time you assumed I was a virgin and kept trying to kill me?! I can’t believe Yunho was right—”

“Yunho knows?!” It was Wooyoung’s turn to look shocked, eyes darting around the room as they stopped on something further inside his room, near his bed. I looked towards it and narrowed my eyes, trying really hard to see whether there was someone there or not. And then, almost as if a mist lifted off that side of the room, I was able to make out platinum blonde hair.

“He doesn’t know we’re demons,” Suddenly a deep voice spoke up, sounding beyond amused, it was Mingi, “I mean, he doesn’t know you are a demon.”

“Then how—” Wooyoung’s head whipped back in my direction, his eyes narrowing again, “you told him everything?!”

“Obviously!” I exclaimed with a scoff, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I noticed my heart wasn’t beating that fast anymore, even my muscles seemed more relaxed, “He’s my best friend, of course I tell him everything!”

“But then—” Wooyoung paused, pointing his knife at me, “You really aren’t a virgin then?!”

“No, I’m not!” I exclaimed exasperated, rolling my eyes as I saw movement in my peripheral vision, “I literally lost my virginity when I was seventeen, Wooyoung. And I mean, I know you still might not believe me, but there’s someone who can prove it—oh, hi, Mingi—if we were to hit up Yunho right now, he could totally prove that I’m not a virgin—wait! I don’t mean that Yunho and I slept together, because he’s not exactly the straightest person I know—”

“Yeah, I know.” Mingi’s plump lips were pulled into the widest smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief as he finally made himself visible, walking towards us with his arms crossed in front of his chest. My eyebrows furrowed and I took a deep breath to fill my lungs with air, watching Mingi with confusion.

“What do you mean ‘you know’?” Mingi remained silent as he nonchalantly leaned against Wooyoung’s dresser, raising an eyebrow smugly. Oh. Oh. My jaw fell open as my eyes raked over Mingi, something in my stomach coiling as realization dawned upon me. No. Fucking. Way. There’s no way Yunho and Mingi…is that why Yunho was so desperate to speak to me today? Oh, my God, “You slept with Yunho?!”

Mingi chuckled as he looked down at his hands, checking his black painted nails with much interest, “It’s more like he slept with me, but yes, and it was pretty fucking amazing—”

“Can we focus?!” Wooyoung exclaimed, throwing Mingi a heated glare before he turned back to face me, looking rather pissed off.

“Right, right.” I huffed, throwing Mingi a small glare before I looked back at Wooyoung, “You said Mingi was a good guy…”

“I also mentioned he wouldn’t do anything to your friend as long as he didn’t want it—”

“Oh, he rather desperately wanted it—”

“Enough!” I exclaimed, thankful for the invisible force keeping me rooted or else I’d be at Mingi’s throat, beating him up for taking advantage of Yunho when he was drunk, “Fuck, okay, so Yunho was in the next room when I slept with my boyfriend for the first time—and many other times to be fair, poor Yuyu suffered enough because we were often horny—you can literally ask him. I’m not a virgin, Wooyoung, so unless your sacrifice would still work, can you release me?!”

Wooyoung tsked, tapping the knife against his head rather carelessly, “This is bad…I can’t believe I wasted six months on finding ways to kill you, and you aren’t even a virgin. I have to wait another year until I can perform this ritual again, Y/N.”

I scoffed and glared at my dormmate, “Is it my fault you dumbly assumed I was one—why did you even think that?!”

“Well, first of all, you’re super lame.” Wooyoung gave me a once over, pursing his lips as he placed one hand on his hip, “You’ve got no game and you never brought any guys over. I didn’t even see you interact with one, besides Yunho, and he doesn’t count. Secondly, you’re too loud, nosy, and annoying—no guy likes that, my love. Thirdly, I don’t like you, getting rid of you would’ve been perfect, but now I’ll have to continue being dormmates with you for another two years—straight up horror.”

Well, that wasn’t too nice, and it did certainly hurt a little bit, “You know what, fuck you, Wooyoung. You’re not the nicest person—”

“I’m literally a demon, but whatever—”

“Shut up, idiot, I’m talking now.” I snapped, glaring at Wooyoung as I was able to move again, and I stepped closer to his stupid circle, making his eyebrows shoot up, “Despite our differences, I remained nice to you, and here you were, planning my death all this time. You know what? It serves you right that your stupid little ritual failed and you deserve to wait another year until you can try again. And by the way, it’s on you for not realizing sooner, considering what happened last night—”

“Oh, what happened last night?” Mingi grinned like a little child, wriggling his eyebrows at us.

“Shut up, I’m mad at you.” I snapped, directing my glare onto him now, “You shouldn’t have slept with a drunken Yunho, I’m going to beat you up real bad for it, you just wait. And Wooyoung and I made-out—quite heavily at that—who knew Wooyoung is just a whiney idiot—”

“Okay, you’re mad, but you don’t have to call me an idiot in each sentence you say—”

“Yeah, I have to, idiot—”

“Okay, for the record—” Mingi’s hands were raised in the air, eyes big as he looked comically innocent, “Yunho wasn’t drunk by the time we got to the fun part, Y/N. I might be a demon, but I like my partners sober and rather conscious when we get down to business—”

“Just say sex like any normal person, you dumb fuck.” Wooyoung groaned, throwing his butcher knife onto the floor as he sighed, looking at the mess he had created, as if it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t go through with his ritual.

“But I’m not a normal person.” Mingi teased, sticking his tongue out as Wooyoung sighed, running his hands through his hair multiple times. I sighed and turned to leave the room, but Wooyoung yelped, making me stop and turn back.

“Where are you going?!” He sounded rather panicked, eyes wide as I rolled my eyes, “What are you going to do now?”

“I am going to take a fucking bath and if you come inside, I swear to God, Wooyoung, I will cut your balls off in your sleep—demon or not.” I narrowed my eyes at him, “Unlike somebody, I was busy studying my ass off today, and now I have a headache thanks to your awful incense—open the windows for me, please.”

“So, you—won’t call a priest for an exorcism or the Catholic church and the Pope on me?” Wooyoung’s voice sounded small, lower lip jutting out as I looked at him confused, wondering if I had started hallucinating now. Was this Wooyoung’s real personality? Gosh, I desperately needed that bath and sleep.

“Do you still plan on killing me?” I raised my eyebrows as Mingi’s phone buzzed. He smirked as he unlocked it, and I didn’t miss the quick glance he took at me. That fucker, he must be texting with Yunho now.

“Not really.” Wooyoung muttered, sounding rather disappointed. I scoffed and stepped over the threshold, grabbing the handle of his door.

“Great, good to know.” I muttered and plastered on a fake wide smile, “Then, my dear dormmate, can you put out your candles before they fucking burn down our whole dorm? Last time I checked, carpets aren’t fireproof. What sort of idiot sets candles alight near a very flammable thing? And let me not even get started on the wooden floorboards—”

“Don’t worry, it isn’t his first time doing this.” Mingi chuckled, and then extended his leg, putting out a candle with the sole of his shoe. Which, shouldn’t have been on his feet, but I had a feeling he hasn’t come through the front door like a normal person would’ve.

“Oh, shit.” Wooyoung muttered and then quickly got on all fours, blowing out the candles one by one. I shook my head and went to leave, but paused and looked at Wooyoung with a shit eating grin.

“Wooyoung?” He hummed and cast a fleeting glance my way, too busy with making sure no candle would burn his carpet to ashes, “You’ve got one day to study for our exam, you know that, right? And with how much Mr. Kim dislikes you…I wonder if you’ve got some ritual to help you pass your grades too…”

Mingi giggled and then crouched down next to Wooyoung, murmuring something under his breath that I didn’t understand before he broke the salt circle, and stepped inside of it to help his friend clean up faster.

“Can’t you just help me out with your notes?!” Wooyoung snapped, throwing a heated glare my way. I chuckled and leaned against the door, smiling sweetly at him.

“Weren’t you just about to sacrifice me for an everlasting life and more power?” I singsonged, “You’ll have to make it up to me generously before I help you out, handsome.”

“So, like…” Mingi looked up, eyes twinkling with mischief, “with sex?”

“Mingi! Shut up!” Wooyoung and I exclaimed at the same time, making Mingi pout with a hiss as he knocked over two of Wooyoung’s black candles. He grumbled something under his breath again, and then with a loud crack, he was gone. I blinked once, twice, and then sighed, feeling my mild headache turn into a full-on painful pounding. God, if I sleep for a whole week, will this madness stop?!

“I can make you all sorts of potions,” Wooyoung spoke up after the stretched silence, smiling tentatively, “to help you relax while you bathe, or when it’s storming outside to help you fall asleep. If you catch a cold, I can brew you something that’ll instantly heal you or whatever you want, to be honest. I’m quite good at brewing stuff.”

“I thought you were a demon.” I hummed, leaning my head against the door as Wooyoung shrugged.

“There’s many types of demons, my love.” Wooyoung said, the whites of his eyes finally returning as he chuckled, “You’re lucky I’m the nicer kind.”

“Nicer, my ass.” I huffed and closed my eyes for a second as the headache made me feel nauseous.

“I’ll make you something for your headache, Y/N.” Wooyoung’s smile was soft as he stood again, gathering the thick books in his arms, “You go ahead and take a bath.”

“Okay, fine, but if I get sicker, I’m reporting you to the Pope.” Wooyoung froze for a second, and then his head fell back and he started laughing loudly, making me giggle quietly as I watched him place the books on his desk. He turned around and grinned widely as he leaned against his desk.

“So, a soothing potion, and—” His eyes narrowed for a second, and I wondered whether it was a trick of the light making them looked suddenly hazed over with desire, “Sex does fix quite a few issues, you know.”

I chuckled, my eyes narrowing challengingly at Wooyoung as I pushed off the door, undoing my bun, “Really? See you in ten minutes, then.”

I winked and then pulled my hoodie over my head, wearing nothing underneath it. Wooyoung’s eyes widened as they fell onto my breasts and I chuckled, threw my hoodie at him, and then turned around and took off towards the bathroom, skin on fire as I felt Wooyoung’s lustful gaze burn my body apart as I pushed the sweats off too before I stepped inside the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.

“Fuck.” I heard him curse loudly before I turned on the water, letting the bath fill as I smirked to myself upon hearing Wooyoung drop something and curse again, run from his room to the kitchen, then back to his room.

Well, guess Yunho won’t be the only one getting that magick demon dick anymore. Another thing to bond over as besties, yay. At least he’s not getting boned by my ex, again.

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[rememberwren]

A Complete Set (Whatever That Means) || 1

This is a direct sequel to Skin Deep which can be read here. From now on I'm splitting up any one shot that is longer than 10k. So here is part one of this sequel. 6k.

Johnny pierces fem!reader’s nipples.

About this: at least five nipples in this one, an altogether questionable use for a sequel, nipple play, graphic depiction of nipple piercings, alcohol, jealous!soap, spoilers in the 'about this' section, iffy writing. Reader has enough hair to “hold back” and height difference necessitates that she “looks up” to speak to Simon.

-

Thirty minutes waiting for Green Jade Chinese takeout when you’re only a block from the restaurant is a crime. It’s even more of a crime when it’s thirty minutes spent away from Ghost—whose name you have learned is Simon. Laying on the sofa in Skin Deep, your stomach gives another shameful growl. You glance at the clock on your phone, hoping he hasn’t run into trouble…though you’re not sure there’s much in the way of trouble that Simon couldn’t handle. 

The bell over the door rings, and you sit up, smile blooming in anticipation. 

“Hey youuu–fuck!” you nearly shriek. 

Standing in the doorway is a man who is decidedly not Simon, though there are similarities. They are both tall (though Simon must stand a hand taller), and broad (this bloke’s biceps are threatening the sleeves of his t-shirt as he crosses his arms across his chest), but that is where the similarities end. Where Simon is pale and blond, this man is tan and brunet, his hair a cropped mohawk that looks soft to brush one's fingers through. 

Looking over his shoulder is a beautiful woman with braids that drip down to her shoulder blades. 

“I tend to have that effect on women,” he says, glancing back at her. 

“I can imagine,” she says, no small hint of flirtation in her voice.

“Um. Sorry, but there aren’t any walk-ins,” you remind them. The sign had been right bloody there. Could they not read? A more important question: were they murderers looking for their next victim? In the city, one could never know if a person was malevolent or just stupid. 

“Where’s the big guy?” the man asks. He holds up a hand a few inches above his head. “Tall. Devastatingly handsome. Monosyllabic.” 

“He should be back any minute.” That’s what you’re supposed to say, right? You always let the murderers know that time is not on their side; no inconvenient prey here. Try again elsewhere. “Maybe you two could wait outside.” 

The man does a neat little trick with his tongue, flashing a silver barbell piercing at you like a calling card. “I’m the piercer, lass. I own forty-nine percent of the business. Let Ghost know I’m back with a client, alright? Nice meetin’ you.” 

The two of them disappear together behind the curtain at the back of the shop, leaving you hoping that a small hole will open up directly beneath your coordinates and swallow you whole. Hopefully it will leave the shop intact. Maybe you had the time to let Simon know not to look for your body—

The bell rings again, and this time it is Simon, his mask still pulled up over his nose and mouth, one paper bag of fragrant Chinese food tucked under his arm. He takes in the sight of you with your head in your hands, elbows on your knees and approaches with caution. 

“What’s this?” he wonders out loud. He sets down the bag and tears it open: egg drop soup, pork fried rice, crab rangoon. All your favorite goodies. A feminine giggle is heard from the back of the shop and he sighs, eyes rolling toward the ceiling.“Soap. What’d he say to you?” 

“Nothing. I just put my foot in my mouth.” 

“Yer a flexible one, aren’t you.”

“Just in that one, very specific way, trust me,” you say, accepting the disposable chopsticks he hands you. You break them apart and go looking amongst the packages of food for your rice. “I mistook him for a client and asked him to wait outside.” 

Simon sucks on his teeth, a sure-fire sign that he is trying not to laugh. 

You launch a chopstick at him, scoffing when he catches it nimbly out of the air and offers it back to you. 

“Careful with that,” he says solemnly. “Could have taken my fuckin’ eye out.” 

In the back, a scream rings out. You jerk, nearly upending the rice in your lap. Under his breath, Simon mutters: “Always Soap with the screamers.” 

-

That night, the two of you fuck at his flat. He puts you on top of him, where you can control how deep the penetration is, and it gives you a chance to explore the angles that you never really had a chance to explore with other partners. With others, it had been a race: rushing toward some blissful edge, hurrying to get them (and if you were lucky, yourself) off as quickly as possible. With Simon, you were just discovering that sex could be fun; sex could be slow; sex could end with no one orgasming and it could still change your life. 

He is an excellent sport while you ride him, his eyes quiet and soft in a way they aren’t when you’re outside of his flat together, when the mask is on and pulled up into place. If he weren’t so fucking put together, you might say that he were pussy drunk. As it is, he stays still, hands kneading your thighs until you nearly get a cramp in your hip and then he sits up, guiding you off of him and back into the bedsheets, laying face to face to fuck you in a way that is so painfully intimate it makes you want to shut your eyes. 

Afterwards, you curl up against his side and find yourself playing with his nipple piercing. He’s got cute nipples: small and pink as his mouth. The barbell is black, a nice contrast to his skin tone. He watches you sometimes, other times letting his eyes fall shut. 

“Did this hurt?” you ask him, tugging on the barbell a little. 

“Yes,” he says in that dry way that lets you know your question has amused him. 

“You know what I mean. You’ve gotten tattoos and had your ears pierced. What’s the worst pain?” 

 He shifts to touch a spot on his inner arm where a black and white skull rests. The skin is delightfully soft and thin. “This part nearly had me in tears. Barely felt the nipple, in comparison.” 

Your mouth says it before your brain comprehends it: “Maybe I should get mine done.” 

He stares at you, eyes briefly falling to your breasts. He reaches down and skims his fingers along the curve of one, his fingertips calloused but his touch so very soft. He says: “Soap did this, didn’t he?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re alone with Soap for sixty seconds and now you want your tits pierced. Are you saying that’s a coincidence?” 

You frown. “I don’t know. I mean, maybe he influenced me, subconsciously?”

“He didn’t ask you?” 

“No! He had a client with him.” 

Simon hums. His face is closed off, expression unreadable. You can sense there is more that he holds back the same way you can sense a body of water is deep, but he doesn’t share and you don’t push him, not sure if you’re ready to take that plunge yourself. 

“It was a silly idea,” you backpedal. “Forget I said anything.” 

“It’s your body,” Simon says, ignoring your words. “You should do whatever you want with it.”

“Yeah? You’d be surprised how rarely anybody ever says that to a woman.”

“Most people are cunts.” 

“True.” You reach out and thumb at his nipple again, just to satisfy the urge in your own tiny, one track brain. He takes a measured breath—for Simon, that’s as good as a moan. Your eyes flicker down, but his cock is hidden somewhere beneath the sheets. “Want to go again?”

He guides your hand down to wrap around his cock which is like hard steel wrapped in smooth velvet. 

You roll on top of him. The cramp in your thigh has faded by now. Reaching up, you palm your breasts, briefly playing with your nipples. You’ve never considered yourself to be particularly sexy, but the way he looks at you makes you feel powerful, like the sun lives just underneath your skin.

“I think I do want them done,” you say, watching the hungry way he watches your fingers. He sits up, tugging you onto your knees so he can take one nipple into his mouth and tease it with the sharp line of his teeth. 

You figure that’s as good a blessing as any. 

-

Simon tends to spring things on you. Texts are usually last minute and painfully succinct: dinner? or my place? He is prone to just showing up out of the blue, unafraid (and unoffended) to take no for an answer when you’re busy. 

One sunny fall afternoon, the thing he springs on you is Soap. Simon brings you to the shop, telling you that he needs to meet with a client. You’ve never tagged along to something like this before, but you’re beginning to think that there are few places Simon could go where you wouldn’t want to follow. Convinced you will be hiding in the back of the shop without a word to alert either of them to your presence, you agree easily enough. 

But when you arrive, that client is Soap, and instead of letting you hide in the back, Simon picks up a chair with one hand, hauling it across the room so that you both sit flanking Soap on either side while he’s in the tattoo chair getting some fancy, winged symbol just over his pec. 

“We’ve got a spectator? A voyeur?” Soap asks, rubbing his hands together. “Oh you know all my seedy kinks, Ghost.” 

“I can leave, really,” you offer, already moving to stand.

“Sit,” Simon says. 

You sit. Johnny sheds his shirt with obvious relish, and you find the artwork on the wall just over his shoulder to be incredibly interesting all of the sudden. 

Soap extends a hand to you. “The big guy still hasn’t introduced us. Some call me Soap, but beautiful women are allowed to call me Johnny.” 

You shake his warm hand to be friendly and make the mistake of meeting his eyes. They are very blue, framed by dark lashes and expressive eyebrows. He flashes his tongue piercing at you again and you jerk your hand back like you’ve been burned. He laughs. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, MacTavish,” Simon murmurs, putting a gloved hand flat on his chest to force him back against the chair. You see then that Johnny has both his nipples pierced: little golden rings that compliment his tanned skin. 

He’s fit, unfortunately.

You look back at the picture on the wall while Simon grabs the razor to shave Johnny’s pec. You learn that there’s no such thing as silence when Johnny is in the room. He keeps up a consistent chatter of conversation while Simon preps his body and lays the stencil, and it goes a long way to putting you at ease. 

“Would you hold my hand, lass?” Johnny asks, eyes big and guileless. “I’m scared of needles.”

Simon rolls his eyes, tugs his mask into place, and starts the gun without waiting for your response. The buzzing causes a visceral reaction in you, reminding you of your own tattoo that you had received from Simon only weeks ago. A craving rises up in you, tangible in your throat (and between your legs). You shift on the chair Simon brought over for you, eyes drawn to his hands to watch him work. 

Johnny wiggles his fingers at you, palm up. 

Your chair legs screech against the floor as you scoot in bursts towards him and take his hand. You haven’t even held hands with Simon yet, and here you are holding hands with his best friend. Suddenly regret has you wishing you could draw your hand back and wipe the touch away on your leggings. Unaware of your turmoil, Johnny heaves a sigh, giving you a smile that is painfully handsome. “There. Now I feel safe.” 

“You shouldn’t,” Simon reminds him. 

“Ready to tell me where your newfound generosity has come from?” Johnny asks, straining his neck to glance down at Simon’s work. “What happened to never tattooing friends for free?”

“I want you to owe me,” Simon says, voice quiet and distracted as he traces the line work. 

“You need a favor,” Johnny guesses.

“Something like that.”

“Well don’t leave me in suspense.”

“She wants her nipples done.” 

Simon lifts the gun away from his skin just in time for Johnny to jerk in the chair, head swiveling to look at you. Your own head has swiveled to look at Simon, who holds both hands up innocuously, looking not at all apologetic or regretful. 

“You want me to cop a feel of your girlfriend’s tits?”

“Don’t say it like that!” you squawk. 

“It’s true. We get very close and personal during a piercing, lass—“

“There’s a fundamental difference between copping a feel and touching my breast—“ You realize that you are still holding Johnny’s hand and you practically toss it away. 

“I’m not laying a finger on her,” Johnny says firmly, speaking only to Simon now (likely considering you a lost cause). “Period. Out of the question.” 

“I’m not letting her go to a stranger,” says Simon, brows drawn down low on his forehead. “So get over your own bullshit and pierce her, Johnny. It’s fine.” 

Johnny’s mouth shuts with such force that his teeth click together. He turns his eyes on you and stares. You feel like you’ve already taken your top off even though you’ve done no such thing. Shyly, you cross your arms in front of your breasts, giving him your best glare. It has the opposite of intended effect; Johnny’s gaze softens a little, turns pitying. 

“Alright,” he says. “Consider my bullshit over with.” 

Simon inclines his head in gratitude. He picks back up the tattoo gun.

-

“What’s the story with you and Johnny anyway?” you ask Simon over dinner. He rarely takes you out, more content to spend time alone in private rather than in public. His eyes can’t stop scanning the few people in the restaurant. Sometimes his hand reaches for his mask, instinct urging him to draw it back over his mouth and nose, but he doesn’t. 

“We met in the SAS, been friends ever since,” he says succinctly. 

“How’d you two go into business together?” 

“I was doing stick ‘n pokes for anyone who would sit still. He was piercing soldier’s ears in exchange for cigarettes. We both decided we’d rather live to see thirty, so when our time was up, we didn’t re-enlist, pooled our money, bought a location and never looked back.” 

You frown. “I didn’t know you were in the military.” 

He nods, sipping at a water (he’d refused your offer to share a pint together). You’re aware suddenly of how much there is about Simon that you don’t know. 

“Was Johnny the one to pierce your nipple?”

Simon stills for a moment, considering the question. At length he sets his glass down and says slowly: “Yes.”

“Why do I sense there’s a story there?”

“Because there is. I’m sure Soap will be thrilled to tell it with as many details as possible.” 

“Shouldn’t you tell me first, to control the narrative?”

Simon’s mouth twitches, lips quirking upwards at the edges. Coaxing one of his rare smiles from him never failed to make you feel like you were walking on clouds. He says: “You’re clever.”

“High praise.” 

“Does that do something for you?”

“What?”

“Being praised.”

You sputter a little, flustered. But then it occurs to you: “Are you changing the subject?” 

This time he grins, full and beautiful. You think about Soap calling him ‘devastatingly handsome’, and while there was a part of you that was sure the masses would not agree with your assessment of him, you couldn’t help but find Simon striking. Looking at his smile makes you smile, an unconscious mimicry. 

He catches the waitress as she comes by and asks for the check. 

-

“You look frightened,” Johnny says when he spots you as you come into Skin Deep. He’s seated on the couch where you and Simon had sex, texting on his phone. How he knows you look frightened, you couldn’t say; he hasn’t even looked up to greet you. 

“What gave me away?” you ask, feeling queasy. You’d spent half the night awake watching videos on reddit of people getting their nipples pierced feeling increasingly panicked. It looked brutal. It made no sense to stick a needle through one of the most sensitive parts of your body. But it hadn’t made sense to be stabbed a hundred thousand times by microneedles either—and you’d done that. Eagerly, even. 

“That look on your face that says you’re about to be sick,” Simon says from behind you. 

You turn and give him a tepid glare. It’s all you can muster.

Johnny leads you back through the curtain, which you cross with a muted giddiness (your first time in the back of the shop!). It leads to a narrow hallway with a few frosted doors. One is clearly marked as a bathroom. One isn’t marked at all. The last has the light on inside, turning the frosted glass a golden yellow. The writing on the glass says SOAP’S ARTISAN PIERCINGS. He opens the door and ushers you both in. 

The room is small, with a chair similar to Simon’s except for performing piercings. One wall is dominated by cabinets and drawers and mirrors, a small porcelain sink. A table holds a photobook which you make the mistake of skimming through—it’s full of clits, labias, penises, and nipples, all with a variety of gruesome appearing jewelry. 

“Ow,” you mutter, shutting the book.

“Getting ideas for your next piercing?” Johnny asks over his shoulder, washing his hands at the sink. He soaps himself up to the elbows, like a surgeon preparing to root around in your open chest. 

“No,” you say. “Definitely not.” 

Simon has seated himself in one of the chairs in the corner, his legs looking obscenely long with the way they are folded. He leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees, watching you closely. You pull a face at him just to watch the way his eyes roll. 

“Everything off from the waist up,” Soap says, tugging gloves into place. “Any allergies? Latex, dyes?”

He is much more abrupt today than he had been yesterday. You’re almost moved enough to ask him if he’s upset, but perhaps this is just his professionalism. Regardless, you miss the easy-going nature that had gone so far to put you at ease yesterday. 

“No,” you say, shrugging out of your shirt. It is warm in the room but goosebumps still bloom along your arms and chest. God, are you really doing this? Are you really exposing yourself to Simon’s best friend? You glance back over your shoulder, but Simon’s face gives no indication of what you should do. The message is clear: you have to choose. Taking a deep breath, you slide the straps of your bra down your arms and reach around back to undo the clasp, folding everything nice and neatly into a pile on the chair beside you. Your nipples immediately pucker, whether from nerves or some unwilling arousal, you couldn’t say. 

Johnny isn’t even looking at you. He’s opening up packages of frightening looking tools: scissors with clamps on the end, needles, toothpicks? “Had any caffeine today?”

“No. Wait, yes. A tea.”

“Goddamnit, Ghost. You and yer bloody teas.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, not really,” Johnny says. “I’d prefer if you hadn’t drunk it, but what’s done is done. Makes the blood thinner though, you know.”

“Didn’t know that. I thought that was just alcohol.”

“Alcohol is worse,” he agrees. He glances over his shoulder, but towards Simon whose dark figure is haunting the corner of the room. His expression is sly. “Ghost knows all about that, aye?”

You latch on to this news eagerly. “Are you talking about when you pierced his nipple?”

Johnny’s brows lift in obvious surprise. “He told you about that?”

You hear the creak of the chair behind you as Simon shifts but you don’t turn to look at him. “He told me some of it?” you say, voice pitching upward at the end in question. 

“Which parts, exactly?”

“Just that you were the one who had done it.” 

“Left out all the tastiest bits,” Johnny says. “I bet he does that a lot when talking about his days with the 1-4-1.”

Your stomach dips. 

“That’ll do,” Simon says sternly from the corner. 

Johnny scoffs a little, muttering something under his breath as he arranges the tools to his liking. The silence that lingers is thick and awkward. Eager to break it, he turns to you and your tits. “Alright then. Let’s see what we’re working with.” 

You want to cross your arms more than you want to take your next breath, but you don’t. You don’t breathe either, really. Johnny stares at your breasts and then asks you to stand and come closer. Knees knocking together, you do, until you are close enough to smell his cologne or aftershave—whichever you aren’t sure. 

“Biggest question here,” he says, glancing back toward your eyes. “Are we doing one today or both?”

“Uh—both?”

“Let me bring this to your consideration,” Johnny says. “If you can’t go without playing with them, I recommend just doing one at a time. Because once I pierce it, it’s hands off for six months. No touching, no twiddling, no teasing, no twisting, definitely no tasting, I’m talking to you, Ghost—“

“Fuck off.”

“—so if that’s a dealbreaker, I recommend leaving one to play with. Stagger them. Mitigates the loss a little.”

You glance back at Ghost. On the one hand, nipple play is a favorite of yours. On the other hand, if you don’t do both today, you might chicken out and never come back. In the end, you decide: “Let’s start with one and see how I do.” 

“Yer the boss, hen,” Johnny says solemnly. He tears open a tiny package, the bitter scent of antiseptic stinging at your nose. “Any preference on left or right? Do yeh have a favorite?”

“A favorite?” 

He snorts. “Alright—which side do you sleep on?”

You say your left, so he takes the antiseptic wipe to the right breast and warns you with a brief, It’s chilly, before swiping it across your nipple. You hate every moment of it, mostly because the stimulation feels good in a distant, muted way. Teeth gritting, you wait for him to be done, even though he is a consummate professional and going as fast as he can. 

Next he takes one of the toothpicks, dips it in ink, and marks a spot on either side of your nipple where the needle will pierce. It’s more on the areola itself; you can’t decide if that makes it more or less tolerable.

“Go check the placement in the mirror, let me know if you’re level,” says Johnny, tossing away the toothpick. 

You turn to Ghost instead. “Will you be my mirror?” you whisper. 

The corners of his eyes crinkle behind his mask. He beckons you closer with two fingers, and you walk to him on unsteady legs. His hand cups your breast, careful not to touch any part that Johnny has sanitized as he looks you over thoroughly. 

“Perfect,” he mutters, almost like a curse. 

“Hey! No touching!” Johnny calls, crumpling a piece of trash noisily in his fist. He sounds irritated. “Don’t you make me sanitize her again!”

When you and Simon have finished, Johnny adjusts the chair until it is laying flat and helps you up onto it. 

“Normally I freehand most piercings,” he says. “But since this is your first, I’m going to use a hemostat clamp. Looks like this—“ He shows you the device which looks like scissors but with clamps instead of blades, holes strategically placed for the needle to be pushed through. “—and I’ve been told it hurts more than the piercing itself, so be warned.”

“I’m warned,” you whisper weakly. 

“Arm up, over your head lass.” 

He scoots his chair beside you and then gently touches your breast, the latex warm from his body heat. He adjusts the clamp and then grips down tightly, ensuring that the marked spots of ink are within the holes. It does hurt, but not as badly as you imagined. You let out a breath. You can do this. 

“Ready for the needle?”

Yeah, you can’t do this. Your other hand reaches out blindly towards Simon. After a moment, you feel his touch: hand warm and solid where he laces your fingers together awkwardly. Neither of you have had much practice in the way of hand holding—and none at all with each other—but you feel his touch all the way in your toes, and you think that’s a pretty good sign. 

“Make all the sound you want,” Johnny mutters, breath fanning across your outstretched arm. “It helps, trust me. On three. One—“

He pierces you. You suck in a breath through your teeth. “You bastard, that hurt way more than the clamp!”

“Yeah,” says Johnny, guiding the jewelry through your nipple. He looks down at you with a sad, strange smile. “I’m a liar.” 

-

You shower together that night. The shower is small for a man of Simon’s stature. Add you into the mix and it’s positively tiny, but that just means you both have to stand close together, bodies brushing against each other with each movement. He puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you to the spray to let the water run across your sore breast, thumbs kneading at the tense muscles of your shoulder blades. 

You relax back against him, feeling his hard cock against the small of your back. He doesn’t do anything about it, so you don’t either. 

“What’s the verdict?” you ask him. “Do you like it?” 

“Is it important to you that I like it?” he asks, voice rumbling against your back. 

You think. 

“Yes,” you say. 

His hand comes down to ghost over your unpierced breast, cupping it in his huge palm. Your hard nipple rasps against the calluses on his hand making you shiver even in the heat of the shower. He squeezes softly, pulling a sound from the back of your throat that is lost thanks to the roar of the water against the tiles. 

His mouth brushes against your ear, lips damp: “I like it.” 

You twist in his arms, his cock dragging against your slick body, and look up at him. His hair is plastered to his forehead, a shade darker than usual. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

You guide his hand to your hair. “Hold this for me.” 

You slip down onto your knees.

-

How’s the piercing healing? Simon messages you one afternoon. Soap won’t shut up asking me about it. 

Give him my number, you suggest. 

After a lengthy silence, Simon texts: He says he doesn’t want it.

And just what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Maybe it was some weird piercer/client boundary he didn’t want to cross, but Ghost had come across more stringent (in just about every aspect of life) and he had had no problem crossing the tattoo artist/client boundary to text you mock ups of your tattoo. Something in your gut goes sour. Something sows itself in the soil of your heart, something thorny and unpleasant, and you don’t like it one bit. 

It’s fine, you tell him. I’m taking care of it. 

Okay, he says. And that is the end of that. 

-

The next time you see Johnny, it is Simon’s birthday. True to form, he does not make a big fuss of it, though it’s clear that this is the first birthday he has shared with a romantic partner perhaps ever. 

He genuinely seems to appreciate the Bluetooth stencil printer you bought him as a gift (he’d looked at the wrapped present like he didn’t know what to do with it, unwrapped it with the same enthusiasm as a man walking to the gallows, but when he’d seen it, he’d given one of those slow, rare grins; the crooked ones thanks to the scar across his mouth), and you silently congratulated yourself on getting him something practical over something sentimental. 

“The boys want to get together,” he says that afternoon. “I want you to come, too.” 

How could you say no to that? 

So you doll yourself up, wearing your nicest pair of skinny jeans and a sweater to keep away the autumn chill. You are giddy at the thought of meeting Simon’s other friends, so much so that you cleanly overlook Johnny’s hot and cold act. At least there will be others there to act as buffers between the two of you. 

The pub itself is more crowded than Simon would like. He won’t even take his mask off, keeping his back against the wall and eyes on the door. Not for the first time, you wonder if he doesn’t have some sort of PTSD, something leftover from his time in the service. It would make a lot of things make a lot more sense. 

You meet Kyle, who clasps your hand with both of his own, grinning so fetchingly. “Nice to meet you,” he shouts over the sounds of the pub. “Simon’s never brought a woman around before. You must be special.” 

“That means be on your best behavior, Garrick,” Simon says dryly, shifting his mask to sip at a beer—the first you’ve ever seen him drink.

“Yes, sir.” 

John arrives next. He’s older than the others, though there’s not yet any hint of silver in his facial hair. He smiles, eyes twinkling, and shares Kyle’s sentiments. It shouldn’t make you feel as special as it does, knowing that Simon hasn’t brought a woman to meet his friends before. But it does. It means something. The two of you still haven’t discussed exactly what your relationship is, but it seems clear in the eyes of everyone around you, which makes you feel a little more like you’re standing on solid ground. 

Johnny arrives last. His easy grin falters at the sight of you. He slips into the other side of the circular booth beside John and barely greets you, barely even meets your eyes. You don’t shrink, necessarily—you’re aware that you belong here, celebrating Simon, just as much as Johnny does—but you do grow quiet, your arms crossed in your lap, leaning into the warm comfort that Simon’s body beside you provides. 

The group together are downright boisterous. Even Simon comes out of his shell some as the drinks come and go, eventually tugging the mask down to rest beneath his chin. They tell stories that make you laugh, make you tear up, make you cringe, make you groan. It eases some anxious part of your heart to hear these uncensored stories, to learn more about Simon’s past straight from the sources.

It’s clear that their time spent serving together has made a brotherhood of them, and while a small part of you feels estranged as the outsider amongst this group, the larger part thinks it’s beautiful to see. 

Simon deserves this, you think, as the group gets up: some to go to the bathroom, others to the bar, others to smoke. He deserves to be surrounded by people that love him. 

You realize right there in that cracked leather booth of the bar that you are included in that.

 You’re in love with him. 

“Oh God,” you mutter, pressing your hands to your cheeks. Suddenly your head is spinning from the few shots you had shared with the others. Air. You need air. 

Not spying Simon anywhere near the bar, you take your chances of running into him outside and step out of the pub onto the cool street. There is a bitter wind blowing that has you wrapping your arms around your middle, wishing you had worn a jacket over your sweater. Resting your back against the brick wall, you stare up at the moon and think. Nothing has changed between now and five minutes ago, except that now you are a little wiser to your own feelings. A little more aware of how invested you are in this undefined relationship. You don’t need to freak out.

You just need to talk to him and figure out where you both stand with each other. It is the only—

“You followin’ me?” You jerk, startled. Johnny stands there, having come around out of the alley, crushing the remnants of a cigarette beneath his boot. His cheeks are red from the cold, hands jammed deep into his pockets. 

“What? Of course not!” 

“Alright,” he says, his agreement sounding a lot like skepticism. He moves past you toward the pub doors. 

You know that you shouldn’t. You know that for some inexplicable reason, Johnny doesn’t like you, and that you should take this at face value and leave well enough alone. But instead it makes something inside you feel needy and desperate, desperate for this closest friend of Simon’s to like you, desperate to fit it to Simon’s old life. 

“Hey,” you say, catching his wrist. “We should plan my next piercing while you’re here.” 

He visibly shakes off your touch. His eyes look back toward the pub longingly. “Yeah. Look, not much to plan, really, is there? Just let Simon know when you’re ready and he’ll text me.” 

He opens the door. For a moment, the sounds and smells of the pub spill out onto the sidewalk, but then the door shuts and it is quiet and you are alone. 

-

“Johnny doesn’t like me much,” you say to Simon on the way home. You’re driving—three beers in total had managed to make him tipsier than you thought possible for a man of his stature.

He snorts. “Soap loves everybody, and everybody loves Soap.” 

You take your eyes off the road briefly. Simon’s figure is illuminated by a passing streetlamp, turning his silhouette into something gilded where he is slumped over in the passenger seat resting his temple against the cool glass of the window. “I don’t love him,” you say, hoping you don’t overemphasize any certain word. 

Simon looks to you. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face. Not even being drunk affects the intensity of his gaze, the way it penetrates you, turns you see-through. Whatever he sees in your face must not be enough, because his head thuds as it hits the window again. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time that a girl who was supposed to be mine ended up being for Soap.” 

You suck in a breath, heart clenching painfully. Taking one hand off the wheel, you search for his thigh—find his knee and settle for it, stroking softly with your thumb. 

“I’m not Soap’s, baby,” you say. 

“No?” 

You shake your head. 

“Whose are you?” 

“Come on, Simon,” you mutter, face hot. “You already know.” 

“Are you mine?” 

You nod.

“Don’t say it.” 

You blink, glancing over to him. He’s watching you, eyes heavy-lidded and pitch-black in the darkness of the cab. “Why not?” 

“Because I’ll make have to you pull over.” 

-

Instead he makes you wait until he’s inside you, still feeling the rasp of his stubble against your thighs from where he had eaten you out. Then, his hands shaking, he asks you again, Whose are you? just to hear the way you chant over and over again: Yours, Yours, Yours. 

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (17/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: That's definitely not the goodbye you wanted.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, swear words

Word Count: 3.3k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: sorry for this shitty chapter and sorry for keeping you waiting! feedback is appreciated! love ya.

It's not long before Charles falls asleep next to you. 

You hear his soft breathing, the way the bedspread rustles as he slides his arm under the pillow and bends his right knee. Apparently he's lying on his stomach, snuggled tightly in the warmth of the bed you'll share for the second and last time. 

That Charles has grown so close to your heart in exactly three days is something you would never have thought was possible in your life.

After Raphael cheated on you and your friends let you down, you vowed to take better care of yourself and your heart and never let anyone into your life so easily again. You resigned yourself to the fact that you would spend the next time alone until you could put your trust in someone again. And that had been perfectly fine with you, as long as it had kept further pain at bay.  

But the brunette Monegasque, without making any particular effort, has walked into your life as if God personally had opened the gates for him, and has taken up residence with you as if he were a virus that is taking you over completely. 

You turn away from him, but you can still feel the warmth of his body through the many layers of fabric that lie between you. 

The fact that he will spend the next few days in Italy is a good start to building the wall that will keep your heart from great harm. It will create some distance between you, buy you more time in which to figure out your feelings. And if it really comes down to you feeling more than simple friendship for your roommate, you'll still have plenty of time to think of some way to handle the situation. 

You're about to press your face into your pillow so it can stop the whirlwind of thoughts in your head when your cell phone lights up. 

Lando: Did you know that the Eiffel Tower is about six inches taller in the summer than in the winter?

Confused, but grinning, you glance at the screen. It's the middle of the night - why is he sending you such a strange message at this late hour?

You cast a glance over your shoulder to make sure Charles is actually asleep before releasing the key lock, lowering your phone's brightness to its lowest setting, and starting to type. 

You: Didn't know that. Why is that?

The "seen" with the little checkmark appears directly under your sent message, and a few moments later the typical three dots that appear when a reply is composed flash. 

Lando: Due to thermal expansion, meaning the iron heats up, the particles gain kinetic energy and take up more space.

You have to smile, even suppress a giggle. 

You: You googled that for sure. 

Lando: You got me. I didn't know the best way to start a conversation. 

You: I'd say the middle of the night is generally not a good time to start a conversation. What if I had already been asleep?

Lando: Then you would have woken up confused for sure and blocked me right after the message. 

You: Then you're lucky I'm still awake. 

Lando: I'm definitely lucky. 

Behind you, Charles moves a little, but doesn't seem to wake up. You feel him scoot a tiny bit closer to you, as if he realizes you're still awake. 

Lando: Have you ever been to Paris?

You: Unfortunately not. I'd like to go there sometime, though. And you?

Lando: I've been there before. Maybe we can go there together? Then I can show you the most beautiful places. 

You have to grin. Straightforward guy he is. 

You: Do you really think I would just travel to Paris with a semi stranger?

Lando: You're right about that. But that can easily be changed. You and me, tomorrow, dinner at 8?

You feel Charles rest his hand on your bedspread. It's like he subconsciously realizes you're about to go out with one of his friends. He exhales deeply, but doesn't move any further. 

You: That was very smooth, Mr. Norris. 

Lando: So is that a yes?

Without giving it much thought, you answer the Brit with a "Yes, I'd love to," whereupon he responds with a "Great. I'll get back to you tomorrow. Don't stay up too late and sleep well" back. You press the key lock on your phone and put it back next to your pillow. 

Time you do have. Charles isn't around, and you don't have a job to go to every day, so your days are as free as the beach in winter. And for sure it will do you good to spend time with someone other than the Monegasque. Lando is nice and friendly and funny. And since the two of you don't live together, and the level at which you're getting to know each other is much more superficial than the one Charles and you are on right now, you shouldn't be in danger of taking him to your heart as quickly as your roommate.

Who by now has moved so close to you that you can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. It's steady, coming in waves and brushing your skin like a warm summer breeze. For sure he is sleeping well, maybe even having a nice dream. He doesn't even know yet that it's the last time he'll sleep next to you.

You close your eyes, almost press your eyelids together and force yourself to fall asleep. With the ulterior motive that the person who is dearest to you right now is exactly the one with whom you will soon have to keep the most distance.

-

Something rustles. 

The sound is close, but not so close that it could find its origin right next to your ear. It also sounds muffled, as if there is a thick piece of soft cotton between the sound and your eardrum, so you can't really hear what exactly is making that sound. 

You press your face a little deeper into the pillow. 

The rustling becomes louder. 

Tired and with your eyes closed, you pull the blanket higher to your chin to cling to sleep. And for a brief moment it works, your mind slips back into a gentle slumber - until you hear a loud, unmistakable rumble. 

Annoyed and above all confused, you open your eyes. Your cell phone reads 6:15 a.m. Who's making that kind of noise at this hour?

You sit up abruptly, as if you've been electrocuted, and the covers fall into your lap. Charles.

For sure he is packing up the last things before he wants to wake you up. To say goodbye to you. You're surprised you didn't hear his alarm clock. For sure he only rang it once briefly before your roommate turned it off so it wouldn't wake you up. Very kind and considerate. 

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and slip into fuzzy socks so your feet don't freeze. As you tie your hair so it doesn't look like you've touched an electrical socket, you hear keys jingle. 

Charles wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to you, would he?

Hesitantly, you go to the door of the room and open it slowly to make sure he's still there. And indeed, he hasn't left the apartment yet. 

But he has shouldered his travel bag, his feet are in shoes, and the apartment door is open, as if he is about to take the first step out. When he hears you, he turns around. 

Confused and still slightly sleepy, you stand in the doorway. You point your finger at the large bag. "Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?" you ask him, rubbing the heels of your hands over your eyes. Damn, it's definitely too early to be awake. 

Your roommate steps unsteadily from one foot to the other. "I didn't mean to wake you." In his free hand, he holds his key. 

You screw up your face. "But you wanted to say goodbye." You cross your arms in front of your chest. "You said you'd set an alarm so you could get up on time and we could say goodbye properly."

The situation is strange. You're standing in the doorway to the room where Charles shared a bed with you, as he stands on the threshold that separates this apartment from the rest of the world. It feels like he's trying to escape from what's happening inside these four walls. Like he can't wait to leave and leave you here. 

He doesn't even want to say goodbye to you. 

"I know, but-" he begins, but doesn't seem to know how to finish the sentence, which is why he just falls silent. His gaze wanders from your face to the room behind you before he lowers it to his shoes. He swallows once before looking at you again. "Can we talk about this another time?" he asks quietly. "I have to go."

What happened in the last few hours you were asleep? Did you do something to make him want to run away from here? To want to flee from you? The way he's standing there, he seems like he can't wait to finally leave the apartment. As if he had to quickly put as many kilometers as possible between you. 

The fact that he doesn't want to talk to you about it unsettles you more than you'd like to admit.

When you were with Raphael, there were many arguments, after which you both went to bed without clearing up the situation or talking things out. That oppressive, stomach-churning feeling was so devastating and caused such nausea in you that you told yourself that you will never again let an argument or difficult situation just stand.

You don't want to go to bed angry. And you don't want anyone to go to bed angry and mad at you either. 

"Did I do something?" you ask, letting your arms, which were crossed just a moment ago, fall to your sides. As a sign that you're ready to face whatever may follow. "Talk to me, please, Charles."

Of course, neither of you would go to sleep now. But the very thought that you won't see each other again for another four days, and thus parting, leaves a bitter taste on your tongue. Which you naturally want to get rid of as quickly as possible. 

Demonstratively, he glances at his wristwatch. "I don't have time. Let's talk about it another time."

"It's 6:25. I thought you didn't have to leave until 7?"

He clenches his teeth. "I want to drive now." He's visibly tense, his hand almost tightening around the key. Charles doesn't want to drive. He wants to run. From you. And you don't know why. 

Somewhere inside you, a small crack is opening up, uncomfortable, pressing on the pit of your stomach. Your discomfort worsens with each passing moment. 

"What have I done?" you try again to get him to talk. You cross the room until you're standing in front of him. "Whatever it was - I'm sorry. I don't know what it is that I could have done that upset you so much. But I don't want you to leave now and be mad at me when we won't see each other again for another four days. Let's talk about it. Please."

It's almost pathetic how desperate you sound. Your voice trembles like it's going to break at any moment, and you can feel tears gathering in your eyes. You try to blink them away. 

There have been countless situations like this with Raphael. It was always you who wanted to solve an argument. The one who tried harder. Who sacrificed more. And it has brought nothing. 

Even though you two have only known each other for a few days, this argument is much worse. Because you don't know what you have done, and therefore you can't change anything. You can't find a solution here. 

Charles doesn't seem to care that you are on the verge of crying. His gaze is hard and cold as he looks down at you. He looks at you as if you were a stranger just standing in his apartment.

As you reach out to him, he takes the last step over the threshold. The small crack inside you grows larger, now seems to have reached your heart, forming a great chasm. The wall that has been built so far has been of no use. It is completely useless. 

"If you really want to talk to someone, why don't you talk to Lando?" His tone is icy and his gaze sprays venom. 

Lando?

Charles seems to have picked up on your confused look. Annoyed, he rolls his eyes, which stings you further. "Now don't act like that. He texted me in the middle of the night asking what culinary cuisine you prefer for your dinner tonight." He raises an eyebrow. "And here I thought you'd already had an extensive conversation about it. What was it again? Canned soup and BigMac?"

Your discomfort gives way to an even more rotten feeling. Anger spreads through you like a wildfire you can't stop it. How dare he?

"What are you trying to say?" you ask calmly, even though everything is burning inside you. Charles interfering in this matter when he has no right to do so makes your anger spill over, but you know better than to take it out on him directly. You pull yourself together. Even though you'd like to strangle him, you don't want you two to fight. 

"Come on, Y/N." His smile is spiteful and ugly - even though he's the most beautiful man on the planet. "We both know he's just trying to fuck you. So what's the point of dinner? It's just a waste of money."

Excuse me?

"What do you mean?"

He seems to think for a moment, as if he were struggling with himself to say the next words. "After all, what Raphael did to you doesn't seem to bother you much if you're going to date someone new right away. And you said yourself yesterday that you weren't going to meet anyone on this couch." He extends his free arm and waves it in a semicircle in front of him. "Let's do it, then. Monaco is full of rich men. Then you don't exactly have to hook up with one who's my friend."

Never in your entire life have you wanted to smack someone so badly as Charles at this moment. 

He knows what Raphael did to you. And he also knows why your ex cheated on you. The fact that he now assumes that you would just jump into bed with Lando like that upsets you so much that you're at a loss for words. 

You don't recognize him. The Charles who lets you stay with him for free, who makes you laugh, and who is so close to you at times that you have to consider how to protect your heart, has dropped off the face of the earth. 

Opposite you is a mean and ruthless man you can't get away from fast enough. His words hit you harder than any blow could, and the tears in your eyes no longer originate in discomfort, but in pure rage. 

You don't care what you did to make him act this way. You don't care what exactly happened between you that caused this argument to degenerate like this. And you don't care if you go to bed tonight mad at him. 

This argument is different than the one over his phone call with Raphael or the one at dinner with his friends. It's too close, too personal, and for Charles to think of you that way, after everything you've told him about yourself, chokes your throat and makes your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. 

"You can have the apartment," you say emotionlessly. Your fire is extinguished, your anger is suffocated. The only thing left is a dull feeling of grief. 

How could you think Charles would be any different? That he would actually be a friend to you? You even showed him your favorite place. That wasn't even twelve hours ago. 

"When you come back, I'll be gone." Your gaze is fixed on Charles, letting him know how serious you are. Something flashes in his eyes, but whatever it is - you don't care. "I hate you."

Without waiting for an answer, you close the apartment door. As you turn around, you feel like an intruder in your own home. 

Which, theoretically, isn't even your home. It's Charles' home, it's his apartment. He's just been nice and let you stay with him. And he didn't do that because he saw a friend in you, but because he felt sorry for you, as you must now realize. 

Did this "good deed" make him feel better? Did he let you stay here to prove to himself what a good guy he is after everything with Annika? Is he really that selfish? 

Who exactly is Charles Leclerc?

You would like to leave the apartment immediately, because there is nothing that doesn't make you remember Charles. The couch reminds you of the evening when you drank wine and watched Cars. The kitchen table is where you eat pain au chocolat and croissants. The bathroom is where you grin at each other in the mirror as you brush your teeth. Charles is everywhere. 

He's especially in the dark bedroom, too, when you return to lie down in bed. His sheets are still where you found them when you woke up, and his smell is all over the room, making it hard for you to breathe. 

Pulling your own blanket up to your chin, you lie there staring at the ceiling, racking your brain as to where exactly you took a wrong turn. But for the life of you, you can't think of anything. 

You turn on your side and take a deep breath. Charles' smell hits your nose and only now, surrounded by darkness and silence, do you allow yourself to cry. Tears roll down your skin and one sob after another escapes your sore throat, which feels as if it has been laced shut. Your body shakes like it's electrified and somewhere inside you think your heart has stopped beating. 

The person you trusted the most has let you down. Your closest friend has dropped you without explaining himself to you. 

But that's not what hurts so indescribably. 

It hurts so much because it's Charles. The Charles you saw as your best friend after only a few days. The Charles who didn't judge you. 

You slide to the other side of the bed and slip under Charles' covers so that you are now completely enveloped in his smell. You feel so close to him, even though he's so far away, and even though the warmth feels like a hug, you feel lonely. You cling to that hug that isn't a hug, because that's the closest thing you have left of him. 

Tomorrow you would look for another apartment, maybe even move away from Monaco. And then you would pack your things and leave, just like you promised Charles. And you wouldn't break that promise - that deal, the way he broke his. 

Not long ago, you didn't want to share the bed with him anymore, braced yourself for it to be the last time you'd be this close. You wanted to build the wall that would protect, should protect your heart. 

But it's no use building a wall when your heart hasn't been yours for a while.

next part

[blouisparadise]

Here are some of the amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of September. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Belladonna | Explicit | 1,401 words

Harry's not really looking for a new boy, but Louis finds him anyway. What's Harry supposed to do? Not take him home?

2) All Love Stories Are Tragic (Aren't They?) | Mature | 2,371 words

"They had accepted long ago that they had become sinners merely by allowing themselves to feel. If their entry into heaven depended on who they truly loved, they would rather burn together in the blazing fires of hell than spend the rest of their lives deprived of each other."

3) Most In Need Of Thy Mercy | Explicit | 3,385 words

Note: this is part 3 of the Stand on Holy Ground series.

Louis comes to beg for forgiveness again. Harry has a creative way of ensuring Louis remembers his rosary. AKA, the one with the misuse of a rosary.

4) Planted Together In The Likeness | Explicit | 3,412 words

Note: this is part 4 of the Stand on Holy Ground series.

Harry needs to practise his sermon reading, and Louis is happy to help him in the pulpit. It's getting harder for Harry to admit he doesn't want Louis spiritually.

5) Exalted Amongst Heathens | Explicit | 3,536 words

Note: this is part 2 of the Stand on Holy Ground series.

Louis comes back to confess again, and Harry has an idea of how Louis can show God his devotion. The one where Louis is the altar.

6) My Sun, My Everything | Explicit | 5,682 words

“You’re like a god,” Harry said softly, his voice reverent and full of wonder as he pressed a chaste kiss to the peak of Louis’ cheek which caused his eyes to shut gently. “Every part of you is so divine.” Louis' eyes fluttered open, a mix of surprise and coyness in his gaze. “You think so?” Harry nodded with absolute sureness, his hands moving slowly to undress Louis. He strategically unbuttoned Louis' shirt, his touch lingering beneath the fabric as if to savor each exposed inch of skin he revealed. “Your body is a fucking masterpiece,” Harry murmured, his breath warm as he leaned to press a kiss against Louis’ bare chest. “Every curve, every line—it’s all so perfect.”

7) A Dream Awaits In Asle Number Two | Not Rated | 5,669 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Hello, Louis,” the taller guy says, “looking as heavenly as ever” he comments, and Louis smiles. Definitely drunk, he thinks. “Had a fun night?” he asks, and Harry shrugs, “Niall’s cousin is visiting us for the week, and he bought us a bit too much to drink. How are you, Louis?” “Very tired, I can’t wait to sit down.” The next sentence that leaves Harry’s mouth leaves Louis speechless for multiple reasons.

8) Upon The Plot Where I Took My Eternal Residence | Mature | 5,739 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis gets into a car accident in the middle of nowhere and Harry, who lives in the middle of nowhere, finds and helps him.

9) Can’t Help But Crave Your Touch | Explicit | 5,912 words

When a rainy night brings Alpha Harry and his Omega babysitter Louis together, unspoken desires ignite, leading to a transformative encounter that neither can forget.

10) The Sacrifices Of Righteousness | Explicit | 6,989 words

Note: this is part 3 1 of the Stand on Holy Ground series.

Priest Harry eats Louis out and then fucks him on the altar in the Sanctuary of the Church

11) Is Only For The Braves | Explicit | 8,396 words

Harry has a bad habit of speaking German with Niall to avoid being understood... This comes in particularly handy when Louis, a magnificent Omega, arrives as their new colleague. Until it's not...

12) More, More, More | Explicit | 8,733 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

1980s AU. Harry is a singer and Louis is a groupie that Harry sleeps with. He becomes Harry’s inspiration for writing Rebel Yell by Billy Idol.

13) Love Is Red And It Looks So Good On You | Mature | 12,387 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Mummy and Daddy love us, so they will love anything we do for them.” She turned to look at her twin and noticed that the doubt was still drawn in her gaze, so she proposed, “Look, you are closer to Daddy, you like Daddy's books and those things, so you will go to help Mum with his gift.” Dars nodded with a shy smile, so she continued, “Mummy loves me more and shares the things he likes with me, so I will go with Daddy.” “That’s not true, Mummy loves us equally,” she refuted with a slight pout. Mummy would be incapable of loving one more than the other. Right? “I don’t go around saying that Daddy loves me more than you.” “Because he doesn’t love you more than me,” she cut her off.

14) Who Would Have Guessed? | Explicit | 22,573 words

“So why don’t we just shag?” “Like what? Like an enemies with benefits kinda shit?” blue eyes lit up in amusement, “Is that even a thing?” Harry shrugged. “It could be.” “But they always end up married when that happened in movies.” Louis made a face, clearly disgusted at the idea. “Don’t worry Louis,” Harry said, shaking his head in amusement. “I’m never ever gonna marry you.” “Trust me, the feeling is very mutual, Styles.” and then, “You’re only like an advanced sex toy.” Harry laughed at that, a genuine laugh. “Look at that.” he elbowed him, “We’re already agreeing on something.”

15) Kiwi - It's Your Business! | Explicit | 22,799 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

When ex-boybander Louis Tomlinson asks newcomer Harry Styles to be his support act for the next leg of his tour, he has no idea that he will gain more than just a support act.

16) Make Sure You Kiss Your Knuckles Before You Punch Me In The Face | Explicit | 24,686 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

"Things could be worse. Harry doesn’t know what could be worse than being forced to do a tell-all interview with his ex friends with benefits that he still harbors feelings for, the only person he could ever see a future with, the person who truly hates him so much, he can’t help but hate him right back. But surely, worse things have happened at sea, right?"

17) Daylight | Explicit | 26,775 words

September 13th is the first day of Louis Tomlinson's life. Well, not exactly, but after five grueling years, he's free of his contract with Cowell Records and is able to live life on his own terms. His first point of order: coming out. When his team suggests a PR relationship with a man in the industry, Louis immediately shoots it down, but now he thinks it may be the best option. He's shocked, though, when Harry Styles, a man he's sure hates him, volunteers for the job.

18) .. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- (I Love You) | Explicit | 27,146 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis and Harry have been friends since they were children and Louis has had a crush on Harry for as long as he can remember. At a young age Louis learned how to say I love you in morse code and has used it to profess his love for Harry ever since. He has gifted him bracelets with the code, drawn it on his skin and tapped it into his body. Every time Harry has asked, Louis has just shrugged it off, unable to voice his true feelings. Louis and Harry are now moving to different cities for university and they won't be able to see each other every day, like they are used to. Will their friendship stand the test and will Louis ever be able to tell Harry how he feels?

19) But Daddy I Love Him | Not Rated | 28,924 words

Someone cleared their throat and they all turned to the person; Charles. “I cannot and will not support this marriage.” “But Daddy…I love him,” Louis pouted.

20) Omega | Explicit | 31,075 words

Louis is an Omega who lives with his three older Alpha brothers. He's newly presented and in his first year of university. Harry and Scott are Alphas, detectives at the beauro, they don't know if they are ready for a mate yet, but fate has other ideas. When Louis is targeted by the black market, secrets are revealed and Harry and Scott need to figure out how to keep him safe.

21) Bouncing off the Wall | General Audiances | 34,521 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry Styles is Louis' self-declared enemy, but it doesn't help that they are neighbours and their families are friends.

22) Deemed And Delivered A Crime | Explicit | 35,425 words

Harry keeps his voice low and calm. “I need you to listen very closely because I’m only going to say this once.” When he’s only greeted with silence on the other end, Harry continues. “For every hair that is harmed on Louis Tomlinson’s head, I am going to break one of your bones. And then when you’re reduced to a pathetic little pile on the floor, my men and I are going to kick around your limp carcass in my garden for footie practice. Do you understand?” There’s a few more beats of silence, before the voice on the other line answers. Still sounding calm and unbothered by Harry’s creative threat. “I’m glad you received our message Mr. Styles. Are you ready to settle on a suitable sum for Mr. Tomlinson’s release?”

23) The Royal Midwife | Explicit | 40,218 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis has called himself the "Royal Midwife" since his mother passed away. When the King summons him, he expects to be stripped of his stolen title. What he doesn't anticipate is that he will be be kidnapped and taken to the neighbouring kingdom, where he is expected to give the apparently infertile Crown Princes an heir.

24) Blue Nights | Explicit | 55,652 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis does what he needs to do to make ends meet, and if that means showing his body to make money, so be it, he'll use the gifts he's been given to keep him and his dad safe. When a mysterious benefactor starts to make demands on him, Louis has to question whether its the money or the man he's most tempted by.

25) I'll Put A Spell On You | Explicit | 56,263 words

Harry is a witch with half a cat's head tattooed on his chest who is desperate to find what he misses most. Zayn is a lonely guardian who wouldn't say no to finding the dog of his life. Louis is a cat who doesn't like... Cats. And who may have other problems of his own to deal with. Niall is a... Well Niall... And oh, look, Liam is a golden retriever...

26) All You're Dreaming Of | Explicit | 61,155 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

In hindsight Louis should know there would be only one bed in the older man's room. It was a small inn attached to a pub downstairs, he should know. And it wasn’t a king sized bed where both of them could stay in their respective place without touching each other until the sun rose. The double bed was staring at Louis, taunting him and judging him for spending a night with clearly someone’s father who probably had children around his age.

27) Twists Of Fate | Explicit | 112,841 words

Some marriages don't start with love… When his parents tell Harry that they expect him to marry Louis Tomlinson he's more than just against it, he hates them for thinking it would magically solve all his problems and make him their dream son. Louis on the other side isn't keen to marry someone like Harry either, but since it's his only way to save his family's name, he goes for it. Against their own will they get married and are sent on a honeymoon together where they don't have a chance to avoid each other. Their marriage doesn't start with love, but while Louis helps Harry fighting his alcohol addiction they find something in the other that they both needed. Through trials and tribulations, their bond strengthens, transcending the confines of tradition to blossom into a profound love story of resilience and redemption.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[signedkoko]

HII I have been reading your writing for a while now and I lOVE IT! I've been waiting to put in a req when they got open sooo! (Your writing always makes me hAPPYY when they come out) <33 Any chance of an Overlord!GN reader with Mammon / Striker? Just general romantic Headcannons- Like how it is to date them/everyday stuff with them (The reader is always serious (and tall 👀) and owns a big casino in pride (Maybe Mammon taking interest in it? idk))

Mammon | Striker [Romantic]

In which you are their overlord s/o that owns the largest casino in the pride ring. Reader is genderneutral.

The guy looks like a total clown next to you

And he is, but he loses any sense of danger when he's standing next to you, who happens to be just a few inches taller than him

Your cold sneer next to that goofy grin, like he knows he's totally lucked out having such a hottie for an s/o

To many in the greed ring, he was the greediest of all, but when they came up top to the sinners realm and met some of the overlords that roamed the lands, they started to realize that yeah, maybe Mammon wasn't so bad

While Mammon used to attract many fans, ever since you two became an item, they've stayed far, far away

At first, he hated it because it meant he couldn't scam some pathetic sinners

But you had the idea that he could come by your casino for official meet and greets; that way, people would pay the entrance fee for you and him for just fucking around in a casino all day

Mammon is actually kind of an airhead at times

He isn't stupid, but he isn't all there, especially when with you; he just turns his brain off and lets you do the thinking

You're better at it anyways

During extermination, you can't go down and be safe with him; he will often come up just to ensure your safety

Sure, you seem scarier, but that's only because he is in his smaller form

You two are a literal power couple; you could take over all of hell if you tried hard enough

Striker always preferred to stay away from the pride ring

Sinners were such a hassle, especially keeping up with the overlords and what they considered 'theirs'

In fact, he'd stay in wrath all the time if he could, but business always called for his presence in the upper ring

He isn't stupid enough to fall into the grip of an overlord-run casino, but more than one of his targets did

Your security caught him more than once sneaking angelic weapons into your casino

The third time it happened was enough, and you came forward yourself to speak to the man

He was charming and convincing, but you weren't one to let things slide so easily

You promised he could do whatever he liked with your occupants, given that he gets their casino dues in

And well, for how much he was paid, that wasn't too terrible a deal

The two of you ended up a bit more than intertwined, though, and the assassin managed to worm his way into your heart

And god, was it ever a sight

One of the oldest overlords that towered over anyone that came before them, with a face like a funeral, next to an imp

An imp no one really knew, either

At the end of the day, the only people who dared question you were other overlords, but they tended to leave their noses out of others business, respectfully or not

While you could defend yourself rather well, Striker is more than happy to handle anyone who dares try to touch you

Interrogations are useful, you know; that way, he can kill off the whole chain of command

He's very romantic and gentlemanly with you, even if you don't ask for such from him

Don't think your position of power will ever make him feel like he is the lesser; he will take good care of you no matter who you are

Author's Note - Thank you so much for requesting, I'm glad you got a chance! It was a nice break going back to some Helluva Boss characters (not that I hate writing hazbin, but it was a lot of requests).

[nhlclover]

NOT OVER YOU | TREVOR ZEGRAS

word count: 1.44k

summary: your childhood friend comes home, digging up old feelings once felt for him

warnings: slight drinking, kissing, use of 'y/f/i' which stands for 'your first initial'

Trevor Zegras is a boy you never forget.

Growing up next door to him, he was always in my life. From preschool to middle school, we were friends, spending most moments of the day together. Over time, I found myself being drawn to the boy that lived next door to me. I quickly figured, however, that my crush was one-sided. I did my best to forget my crush but failed to do so.

Even as the years passed and boyfriends have come and gone from my life, my crush on Trevor has always sat in the backseat.

When my mom told me Trevor was coming back to New York for a few weeks in the summer, I was excited. Though those feelings were promptly replaced by ones of nervousness when she informed me he had been invited for dinner at our house.

Seeing him walk up my driveway brings back memories of when we were kids, him doing the same to come and ask me if I wanted to go for a bike ride or hang out in my treehouse. We spent every moment of every summer together.

“Y/n/n. I can’t believe it.” He says. Trevor scoops me up spinning me around once.

“Trevor put me down!” I shriek.

He does so, setting me down, and looking down at me. He’s several inches taller than the last time I saw him, and has definitely put on muscle. Seeing him in front of me I am promptly reminded of my feelings for my best friend. My childhood crush has only grown into something stronger as we’ve gotten older.

“What?” He asks me.

“You look so different.” I say.

“I could say the same about you.” Trevor says, eyeing me up and down.

“I hope that’s a good thing.” I joke.

“It’s good believe me.” He smiles. “God, it’s been so long.”

“Well, you’re the one who lives in California.” I remind.

“Yeah, and you’re the one that decided to go to an ivy league school in fucking Rhode Island.” He jokes.

“Fine, we’re both at fault. Truce?” I ask, sticking my hand out for a handshake.

He snorts, shaking my hand, then pulling me into his chest and tossing an arm around my shoulders. We walk into the house, my parents immediately greeting him like he was their own son. My mom brings him in for a tight hug while my dad shakes his hand, asking about hockey and handing him a beer. We eat dinner, Trevor charming my mother by complimenting her cooking.

“I don’t know why you never dated Trevor, he’s much more polite than any of the guys you’ve brought home before.” My mom says.

“Mom, seriously?” I ask, my cheeks heating up. I dare to look over at Trevor who has an intrigued look on his face.

“You’ve been bringing guys home, huh?” He asks.

“Only two!” I say in defence. “And that was in my first year!”

“That is true. None since.” My mother nods. “So I still have hope for the two of you.”

I groan, burrowing my gaze in my food, missing Trevor’s smile and looking in my direction. We wrap up dinner, Trevor and I clearing the table while my parents put out dessert. Not long after, my parents retire to bed, leaving the two of us alone. Trevor and I crack open a second beer each and sit down at the kitchen table, catching up. He tells me about hockey and his new life in Anaheim, while I tell him about life at Brown.

“Oh my god, you guys still have the treehouse?” Trevor asks, looking out the back window in the kitchen.

“Yeah, I refused to let Dad tear it down.” I laugh. “It’s still the same as when we were young.”

“Shut up, really?” Trevor asks, whipping his head at me.

“Yeah, it’s got the 5SOS posters and everything.”

Suddenly Trevor is by the back door, opening it and walking through our backyard to the large oak tree that holds the old treehouse. I follow him, watching as he climbs up the rickety wooden ladder, holding a beer bottle in one hand. “Trevor, I don’t know how stable it is!” I call to him.

He ignores me and continues to climb the ladder, opening the hatch at the top and disappearing into the house. I stand at the base of the ladder looking up into the house, seeing Trevor standing at the opening and looking down at me.

“Come up!” He calls.

My brain is dragged back to my childhood, seeing the familiar blonde as I normally would in our summers together. I sigh, beginning to climb the ladder that creaks with every rung I climb. When I climb through the opening, I see Trevor sitting on the wooden pallet couch my dad had made for me when I was young. The couch no longer had cushions and was beginning to decay slightly.

I look around, my chosen artwork still scattered on the walls. 5 Seconds of Summer posters remain on the walls, wilting away, and the blue-painted walls are chipped.

“It still looks the same.” I say softly.

“I mean, yeah if the interior of the treehouse went through an apocalypse.” Trevor says, looking around.

I roll my eyes, sitting beside Trevor on the wooden couch. “God, we used to spend so much time in here.” I say.

“Wait.” Trevor says suddenly, standing up and going to the oak tree that shoots through the centre of the treehouse. He scans the wood, seemingly looking for something.

“I found it!” He says, waving me over.

I stand by his side, looking at where his finger is touching the tree. Above it, ‘T + y/f/i’ is faintly etched into the wood. “Oh my God, I forgot about that.” I say, burying my face in my hands.

When Trevor and I were 11 there was a two-week period that we “dated”. I use the word dated loosely as it was barely a relationship, and Trevor and I never kissed.

“I was heartbroken when you dumped me.” Trevor joked.

“Oh sure you were.” I roll my eyes, going to sit down.

He comes around the tree, finishing off his beer. “I truly was.”

I shake my head, laughing at him. “You don’t believe me?” He asks, sitting down beside me.

“Don’t even, Trevor.” I look over at him, seeing him staring intently at me. His blue eyes are still just as piercing as they were when we were young. Still just as captivating.

“What?” I ask softly.

“Nothing.” He says.

“No, no. Tell me.” I say, sitting up and looking at him. He stares back with a smirk tugging on his lips.

“When you smile, your lips still hook to the left.” He says.

It’s an odd quirk I have and everyone still points it out to me. When I smile, the left side of my mouth goes higher than the right, giving me a crooked smile. I grew up hating it. “Ugh, don’t point it out.” I say, covering my lips with my hand.

“Don’t.” He says, pulling my hand down.

His eyes are delicate as he looks into mine. Suddenly he sits up, leaning forward, and connecting our lips. I hear the empty bottle fall from his hand, clinking as it hits the floor. Trevor’s hands come up to my face, softly holding me there. Before I can kiss him back, his lips pull back. I open my eyes, finding his looking straight into mine.

We sit there momentarily, neither one of us finding the words we want to say. I decide to let actions speak for themselves, leaning back into Trevor, and connecting our lips once again. His tongue sweeps past my lips as I part them, granting him access. My hands press against his chest for stability, his slipping down to my waist, pulling me into him.

I gasp softly as I pull away, resting my forehead against his and looking into his eyes once more. “You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Trevor says softly, still slightly gasping in between words.

“Really?” I ask, our foreheads still pressed together.

“I have never not wanted you, y/n.” Trevor says. “Seriously. You’re all I’ve thought about since the day we met.”

“But, all these years… I thought we were just friends?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.” I quickly shake my head at his words. Trevor kisses me again, smiling against my lips. We break apart, matching smiles on our faces. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and I giggle at my childhood dream coming true finally.

[movidita]

Sooo I was thinking…what about Rick X Daryl’s little sister reader! Like Rick def knows it’s wrong and he tries so so hard not to give in but…maybe he does??

(i’m sorry this took so long! <3)

18+ mdni

Rick knew he was wrong. Messed up in the head. Sick. Perverted.

I mean you were at least ten years younger than him and you were his best friend's little sister.

He was wrong for thinking of you in such an intimate and sexual way.

You didn’t think much of it. The desire to protect you, put your life before his— you thought he was just a gentleman and because you were Daryl’s little sister, he should take care of you.

In all honesty, you thought he saw you as a little girl. Someone who needed protection and help. A burden almost. The only reason he stuck his neck out for you was because if he didn’t . . . your brother would never forgive him, right?

You didn’t think at all it was because he was attracted to you. After all, he couldn’t stop his cock stirring in his jeans when he saw you, when you bent over for something, when your sweet smile played at your lips (completely opposite from your brother), when those doe eyes looked up to him, ready to follow any order he gave you. Hell, when you made eye contact with him he became weak. You made him weak.

He did his best to divert his thoughts from you. He didn’t want to think of you in such a sexual way, especially as you were so innocent and naive.

But that was it. He wanted to corrupt you, he wanted to ruin your innocence, he wanted it to be him and not some sleazy asshole who couldn’t please you the way he could.

So when he saw you flirting with a guy your age at the welcoming party at Alexandria, he was mad, to say the least.

That should be him. You should’ve been laughing at his jokes, looking up at him, pressing your tits in his direction. But you weren’t.

And Rick was going to do something about that.

So when you left that boy to grab another drink he took that as his opportunity. Almost hesitating when he looked in Daryl’s direction, but he was already too busy surrounding himself with beer.

You were on your own, a cup in your hand filled with whatever liquid you’d picked up— something strong.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Rick approached, standing in front of you.

You smile politely, “Oh, hey, Rick.” Looking up to meet his eyes, he was a couple of inches taller than you.

“Having fun?”

You nod your head, lips wrapping around the edge of the cup and taking a sip. “Yeah, you?”

His eyes turned dark, a subtle smirk pulling at his lips. “Not fun watching you with that asshole.”

Confused, you reply, “Who, Louis? He’s nice.”

The man scoffs, “I’m sure he’s nice.” His grip on the beer bottle tightened. “He just wants to fuck you.”

You almost spit out your drink at his vulgar words, smacking his bicep. “Rick!”

“It’s true.” His hand pressed over yours which was gripping the counter. “He can’t treat you the way I can. He can’t take care of you like I can.” His hand moves further, rubbing up and down your forearm. Rick leant in closer, so he could whisper in your ear. “Haven’t I taken care of you?”

“Yeah, you have.” You nod.

It seemed like he was debating his next words, you missed the subtle glances cast to your older brother and twitch of his lips.

“. . . So he can’t fuck you the way I can.”

Heat rose to your face, cheeks turning tomato-red as your knees became weak. You were stunned, not expecting that from the older man.

Your words came out all jumbled and stuttering.

His hands moved to your hips, pulling you in closer. “C’mon, baby. You wanna go somewhere private.”

This felt wrong. His was much older, he was your brother's best friend yet you found yourself nodding at his words. Feet moving on their own accord as he led you out of the house and towards his own, up his stairs and into his bedroom.

He practically threw you down on the bed. Climbing on top of you and holding your face in his calloused palms. “Do you want this?”

Your nod couldn’t have been any more eager, you felt a bit pathetic.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Y-yes, yes I want this.”

That was all the conformation he needed to strip you of your clothes, leaving you laying there in just your pink panties.

You felt a little shy, the way he was eyeing your body. He was fully clothed and you were almost bare.

“So, so pretty, baby.” He peppered kisses to your neck, sucking in places that had you moaning, trailing down to your collarbone and licking a strip in between the valley of your breasts. Taking a nipple in between his teeth. Just to tease and watch your face screw up in pleasure.

His hand roamed between your thighs, two fingers tracing over the small wet spot that was seeping through your panties. He rubbed circles over your clit through the cotton, legs subconsciously clamping shut around his hand.

However, his free hand came up to push them open, this time pulling the panties down your legs and stuffing them into the back pocket of his jeans.

Your fist grabbed ahold of his shirt, attempting to pull it over his head.

And when it was off your fingers were immediately working at his belt, struggling to get it undone as Rick laughed at you.

Pressing a kiss to your lips and guiding your hands to your side. So he could do all the work.

Soon his belt was off, along with his jeans and his cock was swiping through your folds.

Fingers tangled in his hair as you moaned into his mouth— you felt like you could cum from just the feeling of his dick barely touching your cunt.

“Rick, p-please.”

“Please, what?” He taunted, his thumb rubbing up and down on your trembling mound.

“Please, just- just fuck me.” You attempted to shove your face into the pillow, though he didn’t let you. Forcing you to look right into his eyes as he entered you. Stretching out your tight little hole whilst your fingernails clawed at his back.

But he payed no mind to that, only focusing on your beautiful face as you took all of him.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight.” He groaned, forcefully pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, taking that as his chance to slip his tongue through your lips.

Tears weighed at your waterline, head lolling back in pleasure.

“‘s like this pussy was made for me, sweetheart.”

Your legs wrapped around his torso, feet connecting at the base of his spine. “I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!”

You announced, your juices already spilling out and soaking your thighs along with the sheets. Rick's release soon followed, spurting his cum inside of you. You could feel the warm liquid filling you up.

Your body was trembling as he pulled out, admiring the mess of yours and his cum seep out of you.

He suddenly became eye level with you.

“You think he could make you cum like that?”

[24hlevi]

Hiya I love finding blogs who write for sbg!

Can I request Tyler Hernandez X taller male reader? Reader is always touching Tyler in one way or another and it annoys Tyler to no end. Sorry idk if that's enough info or not 😭

thank you so much for requesting this!! i love tyler so much he is my beloved fr hes mlm IN MY MIND!!!

— GLOW

tyler hernandez (sbg) x male!reader

summary: being tyler's taller bf who is extremely affectionate

warnings/tags: language, internalized homophobia (?), established relationship

• being taller than tyler had some perks, like being able to rest your arm on his head to which he swats your arm away so fast people thought he hated you rather than you two were dating

• tyler is not a very touchy guy in general and he doesn't particularly enjoy a whole lot of PDA, but he can't seem to get genuinely irritated whenever you do touch him

• it annoys him, yes, but it isn't a true irritation unlike if someone (aiden.) tried to do it to him, this is actually what had taylor second guessing tyler's feelings for you, cause she knows if anyone else tried that they would get their shit rocked

• then taylor confronts him on these feelings and he's like "ohmygod what??? no???" and then the next day comes around and your arm is wrapped around his shoulder, he has a scowl on his face but isn't doing anything as the gang stares like 🤨

• tbh tyler probably sees height as a dominant attribute, and he doesn't like feeling like he isn't the dominant one in a relationship being shorter than you, but all you have to do is reassure him a little bit and he'll sulk like a wet cat and just mumble and "okay"

• but tbh it probably also depends on how much taller you are compared to him. idk any of their canon heights but if you're over a few inches he would be borderline insecure about it, but again just reassure him and he'll be okay

• now, tyler may not like affection or PDA in public or at school, he is clinging onto it desperately when you two are alone or at his house, he is literally clinging to you and won't let go

• however he still insists on being the big spoon despite being shorter than you, that or he just lays on his back and lets you cuddle into his side which he always denies he enjoys but he loves it on the inside

• the thing with tyler and PDA in public is that he's a little concerned about how people would react to your relationship. being on the baseball team, he doesn't want being with you to affect either of your after school activities, so he asks you in the beginning to keep it to a minimum

• if you're upset by this, do let him know! he doesn't want to hurt your feelings, he just wants to be sure that nothing happens to you two, even though he would kick anyones ass that tried anything. letting him know of this, he realizes maybe he's just afraid and needs to let go of that, so he does! for you! what a lover boy

• after this talk, tyler would be much more open to PDA in public or at school, but his games/practices are off limits because he needs to "focus" even if he ends up fucking up cause he was too busy paying attention to you on the stands, but he will take a good luck kiss beforehand and one after especially if they win

• that being said, he still always looks like -_- whenever you're touching him around others especially the gang because aiden will always say something and you have to hold tyler back from beating him up

• if you two fall asleep near the others they are all definitely taking pictures of you two to use as blackmail for tyler mainly, and aiden will probably draw on his face and then have to run off when he wakes up

[ouchmyheart22]

Lucky (OPLA! Buggy the Clown x Reader)

Summary: Buggy thoroughly enjoys making you scowl and squirm as you take the night watch

WordCount: 2.5K

Rating: Semi-Explicit (mentions of sex)

______

You should've never let them draw straws.

You were too honest to be going up against a womanizer, a pirate hunter and a rubber boy, although you had assumed Luffy's draw was more luck than anything.

Usopp had gone first, holding his breath as he picked between the five matches in Sanji's grip - who had complained his chef's knives shouldn't really be used to chop wood.

Usopp had been satisfied with his draw, releasing the breath he had been holding in a long sigh, wiping sweat from his brow.

Zoro picked from the pile with little interest, as always, though he seemed somewhat relieved with his draw as he tucked it between his palm.

Luffy, stalling, had attempted eeny meeny miny moe before Sanji and you had objected and eventually Luffy brandished yet another long matchstick in between his fingers

Your eyes locked with Sanji as he turned fully to you now, smiling his signature lopsided grin. Sanji winked, stepped closer, almost mocking you as he held the two seemingly identical matchsticks in his fist.

You took a short breath before gripping the matchstick closest to the blonde.

You pulled the tiny matchstick from Sanji's grip with ease, groaning as soon as you saw the size. It was no more than two inches.

The men all let out sighs of relief as you held up the comically small matchstick in front of your face.

'Sorry love. Seems you were unlucky tonight' Sanji smiled, his signature lopsided smirk.

'Luck has nothing to do with it' you mumbled, pressing your back against the kitchen island. Sanji clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

'Ah c'mon fairs fair' he grinned, pressing his now free hands into the counter next to you 'Someone had to watch him overnight'

You'd glanced back towards the bag, sitting atop the table, quiet for once, though were sure that wouldn't last for long.

'Maybe he's suffocated' Usopp tried, attempting to lighten the mood, looking around to gauge a reaction.

'We wouldn't be that lucky' Zoro answered, monotone and seemingly disappointed that the clown was still breathing,

Luffy gripped the strap of the bag, unceremoniously allowing Buggy, or what was there of him, to roll out onto the table. His bandanna askew, his makeup messy and smudged, he was by no means the fearsome leader he had once proclaimed himself to be.

Zoro chose this as his exit as he saluted you all a goodnight, his swords jangling at his waist as he left the kitchen.

'Boggy (Y/N) will be watching you tonight so please be on good behaviour' Luffy had warned, wagging his finger at the clowns head.

Buggy had grinned, allowing his eyes to focus on you, standing between Usopp and Sanji. Somehow between the two taller men you didn't feel small, but under the clown's menacing gaze you couldn't help but shrink slightly.

'Oh well I guess today is my lucky day' he grinned. His eyes darkened as he watched you turn away from his gaze, shifting slightly on one foot.

A nervous tick? Maybe. He wanted to know where they had picked you up from.

'Fucking hell what's with all this luck talk tonight? You guys sound like a bunch of gamblers' you sighed, rolling your eyes in an attempt to seem unbothered by the situation.

'You're just bitter because you drew the short straw love' Sanji commented, nudging your shoulder with his he sent you a sly smile.

'Is it really drawing straws if we did it with matches' Usopp wonders absent-minded, his mouth opening to ponder the question.

'Wanna re-do Usopp?' you turned to him with hope only to see the man raise his hands and shake his head.

'Nah nah I'm good' he started to back away, hitting his hip off the kitchen counter but choosing to ignore it despite the flinch of pain 'Like Sanji said, fairs fair'

Luffy had slapped his hands on your shoulder before following Usopp outside 'Sleep well (Y/N)'

You almost wanted to curse him out, before realising he was too sincere for such harsh words. As if you would be getting sleep with this crazy clown on your nightstand all night.

'Am I really that bad?' Buggy had queried, fake-hurt displayed on his features.

You and Sanji locked eyes instead of answering the jester.

'Just give me a shout if he gives any trouble princess' and with a wink and a snap of his fingers, Sanji had left you alone with the clown.

_______________

Buggy had remained in the bag during the short trip to your room, much to his disappointment. Much to his relief, you had drawn the unfortunate task of buggysitting tonight. God, he couldn't decide which was worse - Arlong's crew or being passed around like a beach-ball by a bunch of brats.

'C'mon toots what's so wrong with carrying me huh? Cut a clown a break here' his voice was muffled through the fabric of the bag, though you could make out his ramblings fine. So much for hoping it would help drown out his voice tonight.

You'd placed the black bag on the floor next to your hammock as you started to sift through your own belongings. What little you had brought with you seemed a lot less now as you stared at the contents of your rucksack.

'Hey hey, let me out already. I'm dying in here' Buggy complained.

With a dramatic sigh, you'd opened the bag , briefly holding Buggy's head before setting him atop the small chest next to your hammock. Your fingers were soft, despite your quick grasp, he couldn't help but lean into the touch. The sensation of your thumb grazing his cheek left a satisfying warmth he couldn't deny felt nice. For a second, he wondered when the last time someone had touched him so carefully.

Seeing you crouch back towards the few clothes strewn about the floor Buggy had grinned, his smile elongated by his smudged lipstick.

'Oh I didn't realise I'd be getting a show tonight' he grunted, shaking his head as your eyes trailed up from your few clothing choices to the clown, who seemed very, very pleased all of a sudden.

'What are you talking about clown?' you narrowed your eyes, still crouched on the floor below him.

God Buggy wished he had his body back.

'I love red by the way. Hope you got matching panties. We picking those next?'

Someday, Buggy would learn to keep his big clown mouth shut.

The t-shirt fabric that you'd thrown over his face smelled of lavender and soap, a far cry from the sandy satchel Arlong had kept him in. He could hear you shuffling in front of him, undressing, which Buggy would've killed to see.

From the days he'd spent in the bag (with one ear in Luffy's hat) he'd learned to fine tune his hearing. He almost shuddered at the sound of a bra clasp untie, the shuffle of your feet as you walked forward to pick up a shirt. Buggy waited hopefully, for you to pick the top off his head, giving him an unobstructed view.

He doubted he'd be that lucky.

When you eventually unmasked him, dropping the t-shirt back on the floor, he gave a disappointed frown to see you fully clothed.

'If you're going for a strip tease honey, normally a negligee would be more appealing to me' he advised, baring a toothy grin.

'I don't give a fuck what you find appealing clown' you shot back, your eyes darkened, clearly annoyed with his remarks. Despite your glare, your lips were not pulled into a frown.

A soft plump pout rested just above your chin, pink and perfect, the annoyance never seemed to reach your mouth, despite your eyes showing disgust. Quick-witted and blunt, you hadn't appeared phased by the obscenities that left his mouth.

You had the confidence of a woman who had been at sea her whole life, secure and self-reliant in your skills. But you were young, not much older than your crewmates, still yet to experience betrayal, heartbreak, anguish.

He wanted to see you unravel.

'Ah cmon sweetheart, don't be like that' he whined, his green eyes widening as he pleaded.

Your expression remained icy, you eyes narrowing again and he decides he likes this expression on you. Unsure and untrusting, your eyes remained trained in him as he spoke again.

'We could have a good time tonight. You and me' he offered, his voice lower this time. He raised one eyebrow, cocking his head to the side.

'I seriously doubt that' you scoffed, picking up the newspaper next to Buggy's head.

'Don't knock it till you try it baby'

Honey. Sweetheart. Baby. You tried to think of the last time someone had called you something so fond, and although you knew the clown wasn't sincere, you couldn't help the twinge of anxiety the nicknames gave you.

You laughed, humourless, at Buggy's comment yet he decided he liked the sound.

'I don't think you'll have much takers as a head' you commented

'Believe me sweets, the detachable limbs do it for a lot of women. Trust me' he seemed proud, you seemed disgusted.

'Trust you? Oh that's rich coming from you'

You'd seated yourself in the small armchair in the corner of the room by now, too far away from Buggy's liking. The newspaper obstructed his view of your face, so he trained his eyes on your legs instead, not that he had any objections.

'Hey, I'm the one leading you to carrot top and her fish friends'

'And believe me, that's the only thing you have going for you right now clown. The only thing that's keeping Zoro from throwing you overboard'

He cringed at the thought of mosshead - tall, dark and handsome. No doubt a good fit for a girl like you. He was silent for a moment and you resisted the urge to look up from your book at the stewing jester.

You almost felt bad for him, given his current situation, he was completely at the mercy of you and the crew. No doubt, he'd return the favour as soon as he got the chance.

As you flipped onto the next page, Buggy had left a dramatic sigh leave his Cheshire mouth. You didn't even glance up.

Damn you were fucking pretty. Even in the wooden cabin, only lit by the small oil lamp atop the chest, you looked like you belonged in a painting, an artist's muse.

A few seconds later, a louder drawn out sigh left Buggy's lips. You reread the article line a third time, something about a marine base attack in the north quarter.

Another few seconds, later Buggy had forced another long sigh. You turned the page again before glancing up at him.

'I wouldn't be complaining clown, I let you out of the bag' you raised an eyebrow, bending the newspaper slightly to see his head.

'Oh I'm not complaining baby. What'd make you think that?' Another drawn out sigh, deep and breathy 'I'm just meditating. Good for the mind. Great for the soul'

'Ah yes and you're the picture of health' you folded the newspaper in your lag, allowing the clown a full view of your face now. Your skin was darkened by the shadows of the room, he couldn't read your expression from here.

'I'll have you know I have been the cover model for every issue of Buggy's Bazaar since it's inception' his chin jutted up in pride.

Buggy was in fact the only cover model for Buggy's Bazaar, his very own pirate magazine. Printed in-house, bimonthly (if Cabaji remembered the ink) and distributed in-house, as Buggy was working out the kinks of international distribution right now.

'Never heard of it. You must not get many sales' you were definitely playing along now, he couldn't help but widen his grin.

'Not safe for work. It's usually banned but I could send you a few copies sweets. Help you through those lonely nights' he winked, clicking his tongue.

'Maybe I'll take you up on the offer' your lips had curved up into a smirk, a delicious sort of lopsided smile he found himself thinking about days later. Mischief clung to the edges of your eyes as he searched them for a reaction.

Buggy's tongue almost fell out of his head. He knew you were humouring him but he didn't expect such a bold response. Attempting to regain his cool, his long-distance heart did a somersault as he stared at you.

'I could throw in a few racy pics, if you're interested' he bargained, his own grin turning lopsided to match your own.

You jutted your chin towards him, so Buggy continued.

'First issue is free for new customers. Though I'm sure you'll be a returning' another wink seemed to be overkill but he was working with what he had, no body and all.

'Definitely. Usopp's been complaing we need something stronger to mop the floors with anyway'

You had laughed as his confident smile had dropped, turning into an irritated scowl. Embarrassed and suddenly tense, Buggy began to grind his teeth.

Embarrassed? Buggy was never embarrassed! He had his own show for fucks sake, a crew that followed his every order and more berry than he knew what to do with. Buggy did not get embarrassed.

Especially not by the rejection of a young pretty little thing like you. Right?

You'd wiped tears from your eyes, obviously satisfied with your little joke.

'Consider the offer revoked. I don't think a prude like you would find much interest in my art anyway' he tried to sound nonchalant, his masculinity unchallenged, pretending to both you and himself he wasn't dissappointed.

'Oh you think I'm a prude? Cause I don't want your nudie magazine?' you queried, crossing your arms.

'It's not nude, it's semi-nude. I'm not tasteless' he corrected.

'I beg to differ'

'Is it the makeup? Is that it? You prefer a guy who bares blackheads and all?'

'Enough trying to sell me on your raunchy magazine' you had pushed yourself from the chair, placing the newspaper next to Buggy's head 'And I'm not a prude just because I don't want it'

'Oh sweetheart I think you want it' he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

You rolled your eyes before blowing out the small flame in the oil lamp, sending the room into darkness.

'Setting the mood I see? Didn't think all that talk would get you this riled up baby'

He groaned as you sent a harsh slap of the newspaper to his forehead.

'I'm still feeling generous clown, so shut it before I put you back in the bag for the night'

He bit his tongue, hearing you climb easily into your hammock, settling down, your breathing starting to slow into a nice, relaxed pace.

In the darkness of the cabin, you let yourself crack a smile at his comment.

'Let me in that hammock and I'll show you how generous I can be'

-----

Request are open so please send an ask! <3

[richie-shitlips]

if you're still accepting asks, more Marvin headcannons please I need more of how you view the Marvin trilogy because ive been thinking of it all day🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

i'm always accepting asks !! especially about my specialest little guy!!

he really likes Monty Python (favorite joke is "no one expects the spanish inquisition!")

always says he's an inch taller than he actually is

sunburns really easy. marvin and trina's honeymoon was hell cause he got sunburnt and she was pregnant and it was all a mess (i imagine they went to hawaii or something? it's funny to imagine them on a beach)

is convinced that all lesbians have magic powers. charlotte tells him that's stupid but cordelia agrees

not specifically about marvin but in my brain the trilogy takes place in the same universe as the seven husbands of evelyn hugo. stemming off of that, marvin probably had a crush on don adler in high school

hates his birthday

was genuinely scared after fake shooting the maid and she pretended to be dead, he thought for a second that it had been loaded since he found it and he actually killed someone, but he immediately started mocking the maid's acting afterwards to cover it up- i put a part of this into chapter four of my In Trousers fic, which will probably be posted in the next week!

viewed jason's birth as his own funeral (like how he viewed his wedding as his death in three seconds)

random but that boy cannot fucking rollerskate

i've talked a little about this before, but i was thinking about how they're all heavily implied to be ashkenazi and i've decided that marvin is german (because i am playing marvin in an amateur production and i speak german). he's no where near fluent (neither am i) but he does call his parents mutti and vati and they spoke german around the house when he was younger, so he knows a little bit and will revert back a bit when he's regressing

"it's the promise of a perfect star / who's me" - the nausea before the game, i like to imagine (and play) this line as him reassuring trina that he's okay cause i don't think she was 100% oblivious to the fact that he was uncomfortable and i don't believe that trina would keep going if she sensed he wasn't having a good time

his guilty pleasure is cowboy movies. i will not elaborate

i think for a while he would push whizzer away in public because he was scared they'd get hurt, even with things like standing close together or something

on the same note, he used to hate using the word queer to describe himself, but by falsettoland, he's more comfortable with it

was probably a spelling bee kid (woah cross musical stuff!)

thank you for inviting me to ramble about the blorbo it is very fun!!!

[polyamzeal]

I’m struggling hard with comparing myself and projecting.

My partner decided to start dating again after several years in what was a really rough place in my life. I was starting a new job that had all these plans to grow and expand our relationship pinned to it. She decided to start dating the week before I got paid the first time and could implement any of these plans. It also happened to be a week after my dog of 10 years was put down for on going cancer and seizures. After a couple of bad communication moments and some struggles to emotionally catch up I ask if she could slow down some. Not because she didn’t have the right or needed my permission, but because I was really struggling to catch up and she was moving quickly. From the first day of “I think I need to make more connection with people” to three days later being told she has four dates set up the next week. During which she forgot to lock in our long standing dates and had to rearrange so we could have that date. Then I’m told I have to leave early on my date because the guy she has seen twice in the week since this all started is coming over. I was feeling so cast aside and not considered at all. The entire time she is holding my hand and telling me it’s all okay.

I canceled the date and let her have her date with the new guy but asked to have a long talk about communication and being avoidant with information. She agreed to help me that she would slow down some and said she was sorry for being thoughtless when it came to scheduling. Since she wasn’t going to be able to see new guy for another week due to his schedule. So I decided to not come over and deal with the choice of “get okay real fast with new guy or bail out as fast as I can after work” I hated being backed into a corner like that without discussing it with me first. So, we agreed to help me along through my hard time she would slow down. Next night comes along. I’m already feeling hurt that we canceled the date for some guy she has known less than 2 weeks and he tried to cancel because of something with his dog. So she packs up her stuff goes over and has a topless make out session with him. Which we discussed after as definitely “not slowing down” and that this is her choice but she agreed to help me she would so I’m struggling to believe her when she says sweet or kind things to me because I think she is telling me what I want to hear.

I skip forward and I’m saying okay let’s meet this guy. Anytime I have been anxious about my wife dating when I have met the person I have been disarmed and more comfortable. So we meet. I wore a button up and some slacks. He wore sweatpants and no underwear which left nothing to the imagination. He is about 7 inches taller than me and built. He is literally everything social media and society tells me women want. I can’t be literally any of the things he can and it scares me to death that I’m just going to be set aside.

What is worse and makes it so hard is I struggled so much to make conversation or find him comfortable. This has ALWAYS happened with my other previous metas. It makes it so much scarier.

When this first started my partner and I did this sexual bucket list of thing we wanted from each other and now I can stop picturing her doing this with someone else and being left at home like my wants don’t matter. The hardest part is my partner and I have almost the exact same bucket lists and I was so blown away by someone who wanted these thing with me but now I’m scared I’ll never get those things and I’ll have to watch her have them with other people.

My partner is being kind and helpful but I’m having so much trouble not feeling hurt by her even when she hasn’t done anything wrong and it’s scaring me that I feel so guarded with her right now.

As you can see I’m overwhelmed by my insecurities right now.

It sounds like you are doing lots of things right. You are having lots of communication and clearly asking for what you need but not being pushy about it. Honestly it sounds like the biggest thing is just working on what is causing your insecurities. Fear can make us a bit crazy at times and blow everything out of proportions. I am always saying that PolySecure by Jessica Fern is an overrated book but I think this is the exact perfect situration to recommend the book.

Personally I think that while it is reasonable to ask her to slow down a bit for you the more important conversation should be about re-establishing what you mean to her. No good-looking guy should be able to shatter your self-confidence in yourself and your relationship if you are secure in knowing that what you bring to your relationship is unique and special. Focus on what is in your relationship instead of what isn't and what her other relationships might have.

[backmuscles21]

Dead To Me

Zdog x Reader

Summary: You couldn't be happier with your girlfriend; you never wanted to be apart from her, but then you had a choice: fight for the humans or the Na'vi. Zdog is my muscle mommy and you can't tell me any different.

Warnings: explicit language, internalized homophobia, implied/referenced homophobia, lesbian character

You were in the garage working on your mech suit, you were trying to switch out some of the hydraulics, being an engineer in the Marines was both amazing and kind of rough. It was better than running drills, if you had to be sweaty and covered in grease, might as well be while you're close to a shower.

It wasn’t till you heard some commotion that you remembered there was a whole bunch of new scientists and marines coming in today. You kept on working and occasionally your eyes would flick up to your colonel in his mech suit and more often than not look at your girlfriend working on some guns with Lyle. It made you smile; it also made your cheeks heat up whenever you found yourself just staring at her biceps.

You heard your colonel start talking to someone, you turned your head to see him walking along with some new guy in a wheelchair. As they go to pass by you, Quaritch calls out your rank, you stand up and grab the towel by you to clean your hands.

“Jake this is (y/n), she is an engineer, a damn good one at that. Also has an avatar body. Turns out when you can kick ass and know languages really well, you’ll get the job.”

You laughed a little and cleaned off your hand and shook Jake’s hand, “It’s nice to meet you, Jake.”

“You too, good to know there’s another marine in an avatar body.”

“I didn’t come here for that; I came here as a marine but I picked up the language quickly and Grace needs protection. It’s more money so why not.”

Jake could already tell he liked your smile; you were so kind and sweet it’s hard to find that on earth and on top of that finding it in the Marines.

“I wouldn’t think about flirting with her or trying to start anything,” Quaritch said to Jake as they left you to your work.

“Why, she yours?”

“No, but she is hers,” Quaritch points to Zdinarsik who looks like she’s about to rip his head off.

“She is quite tough and very possessive of that girl. They work well as a team though, and get everything done no questions asked and everything is done right. Try to stay on her good side.”

“Got it, don’t flirt with mean scary girl’s girlfriend.”

Zdog walked over to you and had you in her arms, you knew she was jealous, almost everyone here knew you were hers and knew to steer clear. You were pretty and Zdog knew that she didn’t need these horny military boys coming after you when you were hers.

The next few days went by and it was Jake’s first day linking in with you, you heard about how his first time linking in went. He ran out onto the field still in his medical gown and everything, you and Grace had a good laugh about that.

You and Jake were going out to do some field research with Norm and Grace, you were excited to get back into your Na’vi body and stretch your legs. You hadn’t been out in a while but they were going far out and needed some extra firepower. Linking in and getting ready to head out was the best, you looked just like you did out of your avatar, armed to the teeth and in camo pants. You kissed Zdog before linking in and she saw you in the garage before flying off with your team. It was weird being so much taller than your girlfriend, normally she was a few inches taller than you and more muscular but now you had everything on her. Saying goodbye was always the hardest, you knew you wouldn’t die but there’s always a chance and just being away from her for hours sucked too.

Grace was on the ground scanning neural pathways in the roots of the forest, she and Norm were geeking out over the synapsis. You chuckled hearing them talk, you and Jake were keeping watch, hoping no bogeys decided to visit, you wanted this to be a quick in and out.

But Jake just had to fuck it up, now he’s missing and we can’t find him.

“I can go boots on the ground.”

“It’s getting dark, that’s stupid,” Grace replies.

“Well, what are we supposed to do? The guy knows nothing and to top that off he’s an idiot. We can’t just leave him alone.”

“We can pick up in the morning.”

“No, let me down, I’ll take a look.”

“Absolutely not, we’re heading back.”

“If we lose his billion-dollar avatar body, it’s your fault.”

So, you went back to the base and hours later, Jake came out of his link pod, the idiot found his way into the Na’vi people.

Months went by and you could tell, Jake wasn’t on the side of humans anymore, he was more Na’vi than human. He spent every constant second linking in, he was obsessed with the people, the land, and Neytiri.

It was time to make a decision, were you team human or team Na’vi, you and Trudy were talking and you were going to save Grace, Norm, and Jake. You were going to get them out of there and get them to safety, you were going to help the Na’vi that was the only way. You didn’t want to hurt people, that’s not why you signed up for this, you disagreed with Quaritch’s methods.

So, you helped them escape.

Then you lost Grace and it made you lose yourself a little.

She was one of your best friends, you in a split second gave up your military friends and your girlfriend. Grace and you had a strong connection for being in two different parts of an operation. You cried a lot, it was hard to be without her here with you and on top of that, you just left your girlfriend with nothing. You just left her, you didn’t break up with her, you just chose the opposite side which was basically the same thing. She was going to feel so betrayed; she was going to hate your guts; she was going to kill you if she ever found you.

You cried for the loss of your best friend and for just leaving your girlfriend, you still loved her so much. But that didn’t matter anymore, you had a job to do, you had to fight back, you were going to win. In the short time of getting ready for battle, you tamed an ikran, you changed into traditional Na’vi attire, you had your hair done and you found yourself falling into the same trap Jake did.

You loved this place, the people, the culture, the flora and fauna.

You couldn’t leave now; you were going to stay if they let you and if you survived this gruesome battle.

After the battle, mourning the dead, getting rid of the unwanted sky people and trying to move into a new safe home, it was finally a moment to breathe. You assimilated with the people, you were a true Na’vi and to top it off, you were permanently in your avatar body. You were one of the best warriors the Omaticaya had now, you and Jake were the best of the best.

However, sky people will always return.

Jake has kids now; you were the most decorated warrior and you weren’t as successful in finding a mate. You never really tried; you figured trying to go after a girl here was hard. You did have men try to court you but it never felt right, it felt like you were being pushed into the closet again. You tried to not stare at some of the beautiful Na’vi girls, but you couldn’t help it sometimes. Some of them were so nice to you and so helpful, you couldn’t not have a crush.

One day as you and Jake were getting ready for another raid you talked to him as you saddled your ikrans.

“Hey Jake, do you know if the Na’vi allow two females to be together? Like as a mated pair?”

He snickered at you, “missing Z still?”

“Yes and no. I just wouldn’t mind mating with someone and I know you know about all the guys that have asked me, but I don’t want that, I want a girl.”

“Well, I haven’t seen it here, at least not yet. Maybe ask Neytiri. They may be okay with it; they just happen to not have any here.”

“Oh my God, that’s embarrassing. I can’t ask Neytiri that.”

“Well, then sucks to be you.”

“Why can’t you ask?”

“Because she is my wife and I’m more scared of her than you are.”

You laughed at that, “fine I’ll ask her when I get back.”

So that’s what you did, after another successful raid, you went to Neytiri. Your body was full of anxiety, you were scared to admit this to your new family, and you were scared of being rejected and outcasted again. You had no choice, if you wanted a mate, a female mate, you’d have to ask. You walked over to the Sully residence and entered, Neytiri was getting dinner ready with Kiri, which made this worse.

“Hey, I have a question for you Neytiri.”

“What do you need?”

You took a deep breath, “I want to find a mate, but-“

“That is wonderful, I know many suitors that would be a perfect match for you.”

“Neytiri, wait, I-“

She started to list off male warrior names and why they’d be perfect.

“Neytiri, stop please.”

She stopped talking.

“I don’t want my mate to be male. I wanted to ask if you’ve even heard of two females being mated.”

She just stared at you; your anxiety skyrocketed impossibly.

“There are a few girls here that want a female mate.”

“So, you guys are accepting of that?”

She nodded.

“I didn’t know if you would be or not. I know it’s a really big thing to have kids and stuff so I didn’t know.”

“Jake told me that you were with a military girl before this.”

“Yeah, I just left her to help out the Na’vi people. I didn’t want more people to die. I didn’t want good people to die.”

“We thank you for that.”

“I still think about her, I still miss her. She was everything to me and I just left like it was nothing.”

“I don’t blame you for wanting to move on. I can introduce you to someone I think you might like. If I stand corrected you two are already good friends.”

“Jake told you I had a crush on her didn’t he.”

“Yes.”

“Remind me to punch him next time I see him.”

She laughed at that.

In the next few days, you started to court this girl and you were happy, you could feel it. You followed Jake’s kids and Spider into the forest, you knew that they were headed towards the old link shack. You knew Jake’s rules about it, but you figured they would go anyway might as well be here to tell them about it. You were here to protect them if needed and to top it off, seeing the old battle sight was at times a good reminder of the old days.

As you came up to the shack, ready to take a look, you all saw it, the Na’vi bodies in full military tact uniform. Your body went cold, this wasn’t good, something was wrong, why were they here?

“Call your dad,” you said to Lo’ak and begrudgingly he did.

“We got to go, this isn’t safe,” you said trying to usher the kids away but then you caught it.

Was that Zdog’s face, it couldn’t be.

As you tried to leave with the kids, you got caught, and now they held you like prisoners. You tried your best to keep your head down, just to avoid suspicion but hearing that voice, that was your colonel, no doubt about it. Your body just felt more scared; your body was tingling with anxiety.

It didn’t help that the person holding onto you was Prager, you and him were like siblings, fighting and then laughing. You didn’t fight and you didn’t look around, you just wanted to melt away, you knew at this point they’d kill you. You betrayed them, you just left without a word, not to mention you now knew without a doubt your girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend, was among these soldiers.

Quaritch was going around to pretty much each person asking where Jake was, but Quaritch knew better, he saw the five fingers on Lo’ak and Kiri. Then he checked out your hand and of course, there were five fingers and he got down on one knee to get closer to eye level with you.

“Looks like someone is pissin’ their pants,” Quaritch said aloud to his teammates then looked back at you. “Never been this scared before, huh half breed.”

Did he think you were one of Jake’s kids too, your body was the same age as Jake’s, I guess maybe he can’t tell.

“Oh, I’ve been plenty scared, just not as scared as you’re gonna be.”

He looked quizzical, “what are you on about, you ain’t nothin’.”

Quaritch went to kick your leg and you used your training to your advantage, you twisted your wrists over to grab Prager’s wrists then you extended you’re your legs to catch Quaritch’s between your thighs. You twisted over and Quaritch fell to the ground and Prager lost his grip on you, you moved fast to straddle Quaritch.

“Betcha didn’t think you’d be seein’ me again now didya.”

His face held bewilderment and shock, they all thought you died, they didn’t realize you assimilated with the Na’vi people. Quaritch quickly flipped you over so you were on your back, he now held the power and he lifted you up by your braid.

“Looks like we found ourselves another traitor.”

You heard the gasps and you saw the shock written over some of your old teammates’ faces, they thought you were dead. Then you saw Zdog, she looked hurt more than anything, she lived with the fact that you died. You were here all along, you just left her and for what, fucking blue monkeys, she couldn’t believe it.

“Z-“

“Save it.”

“Please let me explain.”

“There's nothing for you to say, you’re dead to me.”

[howlingday]

So after the Kyurem thing I have been trying to do Pokemon ask about people other than Jaune to help world build and stuff. So I wanted to ask Jaune is important because his legendary friend thing but is any other character that gonna have a big thing? Like Ruby,Blake, or Penny? Just want to help make your story the way you want it. Now to the fun part.

Would Yang use a Revavroom or Cyclizar? Would Ironwood use a Archaludon? What about Yatsuhashi with a Galarian Darmanitan(Hidden ability zen mode)

Thinking on it, I'm not sure. So far, the only two characters I really have planned for having story development at this time is Jaune and Ruby, with the former being a Legendary magnet while the latter has the same powers as in the show. I do have something with Penny in mind, too, now that I think about it, but I already showed my hand on that plan already.

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

"So, yeah, that's how I got B.B. here." The Cyclizar leaned into Yang's hand, delighting in the warmth she naturally gave off. "Don't know why they were smuggling these guys into Remnant, but here we are."

"I can think of one reason." Weiss said. "All of them were like this, weren't they?"

"What do you mean?"

"This color. They were all tan with a blue cheek mark?"

"Yeah." Yang quirked her brow. "Don't they all look like that?"

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

"I'll ask you once more," General Ironwood scowled down at his prisoner, "are you certain you don't know who hired you?"

"Yeah, I don't know nothin'!" The smuggler barked back. This hostility was met with a huff and growl. Standing just an inch taller than the general was an iron beast with golden eyes. The smuggler gulped. "Er, I mean, I don't really know, but I'm sure Taylor would know more than I do."

"Taylor already told us you knew." Ironwood glared with twice the intensity of his Pokémon. "Talk!"

"Alright, alright! I'll talk!" Thinking on it, the smuggler might have preferred talking to the Archaludon.

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

"In..." Yatsuhashi inhaled. "And out..." He exhaled.

Seated next to him, was his yawning Darmanitan. Caring for the Ice-Type had been difficult for him at first, but over time, he'd found a good rhythm to bond with Zen Charm Pokémon. Or, at least, that's what he hoped had happened.

Every day, for at least five minutes, or ten minutes on cold days, they would sit inside and meditate together. However, it seemed only Yatsuhashi took this meditation training seriously.

He heaved a sigh. "I don't know what it is with you." He shook his head. "It's like you don't want to meditate." The Pokémon from Galar grumbled, walking away. "I could have sworn Fox said that's what Psychic-Types would have liked."

[matt-ward95]

Big changes pt. 4

Matt couldn't help but look at himself in the mirror, still stunned at how he had grown in the last few hours. He turned and looked at Jon who now was a literal giant, standing over 10 feet tall. they both where happy Jon more or less happy with the size of his feet. Jon had always wanted to have big feet. now unsure if he could ever buy regular shoes again he just stared at them. " you ready big guy?" Matt asked looking up at him. " it'll be tight but yup I am" Jon said before kissing Matt on the lips. Jon was right it was tight in the 4Runner Jon's body almost too big to fit in the front seat. Matt now had to move the driver seat all the back for him to fit behind the wheel. Jon once again placed his massive hand on Matt's thigh as they drove. finally arriving at the gym they pulled them selves out of the car. entering the gym all eyes where on them. Matt now almost 7 feet tall and Jon passed th 10 foot mark they were the biggest guys in the gym. " I hope Zack Showa up he always made fun of me for being short." Matt said to Jon as they headed towards the locker room. the sauna was empty so the two of them went in. it wasn't long before Matt had Jons dick in his mouth blowing him before the work out. his belly full but nowhere as it was back at the apartment. they went to the squat racks Matt moving the bar up so he could get in the right position. as he loaded the weights 4 ,45 plates each side he heard Zacks voice in the distance. Matt knew Zack was still taller than him standing at 7'2 it was only a few inches but Matt wanted to be bigger than him. putting his headphones and drawing him out he began to lift the weight, it was easy he thought to himself after 5 reps he added another plate to each side. grunting as the added weight gave him a challenge. he was to focussed on the lift to realize he was growing. Jon watched Matt in disbelief he was growing before his very eyes. as Matt added more weight he was oblivious to the fact he had grown 6 inches since the start of his workout. he racked the weight after his final set 6 played on each side. he had grown to a massive 7'10". still unaware of his growth he walked away bumping in to Zack. he looked down and laugh as he now towered over Zack. "sauna now " he commanded Jon, Matt blew him again before returning to gym floor. as he continued to lift weight Matt continued to grow reaching a massive 9'6". before leaving Matt walked over to Zack who was bench pressing he had a good amount weight on the 4 plates each side. Matt snatche the bar from his hand and started curling it. his biceps exploding in size. Zack stood up in disbelief as a now giant Matt put the bar down and laughed at the smaller man. laughing while him and Jon exit the gym.

the ride home was tight for the 2 massive guys. as they ducked into the now doll sized apartment Jon couldn't help himself as he ripped the shorts off of Matt and bean to suck his dick. Matt easily picking Jon up and flipping him around to start sucking him off as he made his way to the bedroom. Matt started to ooze precum into Jon's mouth as they entered the bedroom. laying down on the bed Jon began to grow with Matt's precum. he could feel him getting heavier on top of him and he liked it. it wasn't long until Matt finally reached his limit and flooded Jon's mouth with hot, thick, rich cum sending Jon's growth into over drive. Jon reached 13 feet tall before it stopped. he then unloaded into Matt. Matt's body using it to fuel muscle growth he gained over 100 pounds of lean muscle muscle and grew to 11'8. the two giant's laid there wondering what to do next. Matt then started rubbing Jon's feet causing them to grow. his already massive feet swelling and lengthening now well over 4 feet long on just the sole alone. Matt stopped and laid next to Jon. Jon snuggled into Matt's chest which was now just two massive slabs of muscle " were gonna have to find a bigger place" Jon said looking up at Matt from his chest. " I know... but first let's take a nap" the two started to doze off when suddenly the bed frame gave out. they laughed as the fell asleep.

"Matt your massive!" Jon shouted waking Matt up...." what are you talking about?" while they slept both of them had grown but Matt had passed Jon in all areas. Matt looked around standing up and smashing through the ceiling. now 15 feet tall and looking down at Jon "fuck.... hey shortie" he joked now a foot taller than Jon. they crawled through the apartment reaching the back door and went outside now able to stand up and see how massive they had become. Matt looking down at Jon and smiling as he bounced his pecs. "how's the view short stuff?" Matt said cockily "it's amazing" Jon replied.

[nomoreusername]

Forbidden Fruit

Pairing:Aris x female reader

Summary:To finally escape WICKED you try to flirt your way out with their worker, Aris.

The plan was simple. We already found their stash of uniforms in a closet. Now to get out of our facility we needed a way around that WICKED worker, Aris. While we had talked about it, just knocking him out and running probably wasn't the best idea. We had nothing to bait him with, which we no doubt he would have accepted if we did. We sure as hell weren't going to trust that he’d let us stroll on by.

So that’s when Sonya suggested the worst idea in the history of ideas.

“None of us know how to flirt. I mean the only guy we’ve been around is your older brother,”I pointed out.

“I know, but it just has to throw him off for a minute. That's all,”She justified.

“Well I’m not doing it on account of I was the one who suggested violence,”Harriet stated.

“I’m the youngest therefore that would be weird,”Sonya pointed out.

“I’m socially awkward, meaning it would just look really sad,”I defended.

“Again, we just need to confuse him,”Harriet repeated.

“But I don't want to try and flirt with the WICKED worker,”I complained. “Or anyone.”

“Just take one for the team, okay? Then, we’ll never have to deal with them after this,”Sonya promised.

“But-”

“Just go. We’re wasting time,”Harriet reminded me.

With a frustrated sigh, I put a smile on my face, attempted to fix my hair with my hands, and walked straight towards him. At my footsteps he glanced up and almost cocked his head. That's definitely confusion at least.

“Hey,”I greeted, standing just close enough to him that my skin didn't crawl.

“Uh, hey?”

“Are you new? I’ve never seen you around, and I would definitely remember you,”I drew out, looking at him as I leaned against the wall. He just stared at me with a blank expression before doing the same.

“Apparently, you would not,”He responded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Strange. I don't know how someone like you could slip my mind,”I shrugged, giving him a grin which he didn't return. If anything, I seemed to be psyching him out as he messed with the sleeves of his shirt.

“So you aren't new here?”He asked, looking me up and down.

“I just barely got here. Not that it makes a difference. After all, I know you now,”I said, subtly moving closer to the door. Daring to glance at the keys on his belt, I worked out how I would get them before quickly meeting his gaze.

“Not officially. I’m Aris,”He ‘introduced’, holding out his hand.

“I’m Y/N,”I actually introduced, accepting it. Before I could react he kissed the back of it making my face flush. No longer seeming to think anything of it, he moved just a little closer, making me see that he was around an inch taller than me. Taking in his tan skin, short hair, and fit figure from who knows what, being next to someone on the other side was almost surreal. He just looks so much like the regular subjects that if it weren't for the suit he actually would blend in. Still, the thought of him doing that just seemed like some sort of crime. The thought of actually flirting or being with one, now that would just straight up be forbidden from both sides.

Trying to block out those thoughts, I averted my gaze as he leaned so close to me that I swore I could feel his breath on my neck. This was absolutely not part of the plan.

“Nice try, love. Though, if you want to flirt to sneak out at least be ready for someone to happily play along,”He whispered in my ear, making my heart beat faster.

“I don't-”

“They’re already back in their dorms, you know? There are very handy forms of communication in this place. Just enough for some tricks up the sleeve,”He grinned, pulling away and showing me this little wire device with a button that was in fact hidden up his sleeve. Without a word he pushed it, and a little light I didn't notice was there dimmed to nothing. “Impressive, isn't it?”

“So you just let me keep wasting time?”I snapped.

“More or less. They’ve been good for about five minutes.”

“You were just screwing with me? For what?”

“What else was I going to do tonight? I may as well play along with the pretty girl thinking she's slick,”He shrugged.

“I’m not-”

“So what do you say I personally walk you back, love? Make sure my girl doesn't stop and flirt with someone else on your way?”He suggested.

“Shove off,”I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at the ground.

“Is that a yes?”

“I can walk back by myself,”I pointed out.

“Actually, you can't. I wouldn't be very good at my job if I let you leave like that. Or a gentleman.”

“You are not a gentleman,”I promised, rolling my eyes.

“I disagree. Now do you want to get going or stay here and keep being flustered?”

“Fine. Let’s just go,”I gave in.

“By the way, I’m here quite often. You should drop by again. Preferably, soon. It’d be nice to see my girl again,”He nonchalantly said, winking at me.

“Like I would ever be your girl,”I scoffed.

“Really? We could be like Romeo and Juliet. Minus the constant murder and joint suicide.

“I am not acting out any story involving love with one of you,”I promised.

“Awe. Why not?”

“What the hell do you mean why not? You're just the other sides, cruel, cold, manipulative, lying, guinea pig,”I listed.

“And you gathered all of that from five minutes of trying to flirt your way out of here?”

“I don't even need that."

“If anything Y/N, you should spend a little more time with the other side. Maybe I could even get you flustered again.”

“Ew.”

“Ouch. After everything we had?”

“All five minutes of pretend flirting?”

“Pretend flirting from you. From me, I’ll let you decide that, love.”

“I’ve decided that it was stupid.”

“Really?”He questioned.

“Yes, really.”

“So if I got really close to you again, that would be really stupid?”

“Extremely stupid.”

“Interesting,”He said in a tone that I didn't like. Before I could blink he drummed his fingers on the tip of the door frame above him as he leaned forward just to test my theory, which I was definitely right about.

“Aah,”He nodded.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just enjoying watching you blush again.”

“It's really hot in here, okay?”I defended.

“Actually, they keep this place cold, almost freezing. That's how the Chancellor likes it.”

“Your uniforms are hot.”

“Well you certainly seemed to think so recently,”He remarked.

“Not like that,”I snapped.

“If you say so, love.”

“Stop calling me love,”I demanded.

“Of course. I’ll have another name for when I see you again. We could go through the list.”

“I will not be seeing you again.”

“Are you sure? You seem to like this little thing we have going on, and I know I do.”

“There is no thing, and there sure as hell is no we.”

“Right. Because of the forbidden love story we have going on.”

“There is no love story.”

“Not with that attitude.”

“Aren't you supposed to be walking me back to my prison cell?”I reminded him.

“Yeah, but you don't seem to be moving anytime soon,”He shrugged.

“Well I am now so let's just go,”I repeated.

“Of course. Anything for you, darling,”He agreed, leading me down the path I hadn't come. When I tried to point that out he just gave me the smartass explanation of taking the long way. With a huff I walked alongside him a few feet away. Still, the idiot moved closer so that our shoulders brushed against each other. I threw him a glare but didn't bother to move.

Without a word he turned a corner to my room, a way shorter destination than I had used. He also must have noticed my confusion as he started talking.

“I’m not actually stupid. You obviously don't like me so here's the shortcut,”He explained. While I knew this should be what I wanted as he held the key card to the door I pulled his hand away without actually thinking. Still, I hesitantly asked the dumbest question.

“Just out of curiosity, are you at that spot tomorrow?”

“Every Thursday and Friday so yeah. I will be,”He answered.

“Okay,”I nodded, waiting for him to let me in. As he glanced down though, I followed his gaze and realized that I had never let go of his hand. As quickly as humanly possible, I pulled away, almost like his touch had burned my skin.

Staring at me for a moment, he waited a moment before doing so.

“I guess I’ll see you around, darling,”He whispered.

“Yeah. I think you will, love,”I agreed. Then, I gave him a small smile as I walked into my prison cell.