#scream NC-17

[liverralonee]

does anyone know where someone (me) could watch the scream 1996 NC-17 version? ive been searching for it forever and the only things i’ve been able to find are the region 2 japanese DVD, from 1997 and 2002 which apparently have it, and some of the VHS tapes of the movie from 1997 do as well.

it’s not that big of a deal technically because it’s only about 20 seconds of added or slightly changed footage, but it’s my favorite movie ever and it just means a lot to me that one day i get to finally watch the full movie as it was originally intended before it was given the NC-17 and they had to remove some of these scenes

[final-girl96]

My Boyfriend's Back Chapter Twenty-Six

YN

"I'm not going to that party," I said. Randy and I were walking across campus to the cafeteria for dinner. "Oh, come on. Why not?" He asked. "So you forget what happened at the last party we were at?" He rolled his eyes, "you mean the last party you were at. I've been to other parties. And the murders at the theater have nothing to do with us." I scoffed at his denial. "You are in such denial! Randy, two people were killed at a movie based on our lives!"

He stopped in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders. "Look, I know you're worried about Stu coming back. But come on, don't you think he would have already if he was going to?" If only he knew the truth. The truth that Stu was back and I've been giving in to him. "You're going to that party with me. Plus, Dewey is here. He's not going to let anything happen to any of us."

I stood around, a drink in my hand out in the backyard at the Sorority party. Randy had showed up at my dorm with Mickey of all people. "See, this isn't too bad." I looked over at Randy and gave him a deadpanned look. "Oh, yeah, so fun!" I said sarcastically. "Nothing is going to happen, just relax and have a good time. I'll be back with more drinks!" He walked back into the house and I stood there awkwardly.

"Yn? I didn't know you were coming." I turned around to see Sid and Hallie coming up to me. "Randy forced me to come." Just then Randy came to stand beside me handing Hallie and Sidney a drink. "Took you long enough," Sid said to him. "You need to get out of that damn room of yours and stop being a hermit crab."

Mickey came over saying something about a movie sequel to Randy and they both walked off, Hallie went off another way and Sidney went to sit down with Derek. A flash of blond hair caught my eyes and I snapped my head to the right to see Stu talking to some girl. What caught me off guard was he was wearing glasses. There has only been a handful of times that I've seen him wear his glasses.

I watched him talk to the girl, well more like she was talking to him but he was paying more attention to me. I flinched when someone came up beside me and tapped me on the shoulder. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." I looked up to see a guy, dark hair and green eyes smiling at me. I raised my eyebrow at him and he let out a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I'm Luke, I'm in one of your glasses with you."

"Oh, okay? Did you need something?" I asked. He looked down and shook his head, a blush tinting his cheeks. "This is stupid. I–um…I just want to tell you that you're beautiful and an amazing singer. I've heard you in the studio a couple times. I wasn't like…stalking you or anything though!" I gave him a small smile and chuckled. "Thank you. That's very kind of you."

I looked back over to where Stu was but he was no longer there. "So, you major in music or…" he shook his head. "No, I'm a film major." I nodded my head, "oh. So you know Randy then?" He nodded his head, "yeah. Can I ask you something?" He asked. "Uh…yeah," I said, nodding. He looked around and let you a breathy laugh. "Has he always been so…how do I phrase this…"

"Overly dramatic? Obnoxious? Loud? Yes. Yes, he has been. He's very passionate about movies. He actually brought the film club back to our high school his freshman year. Convinced the principal to give him a week to get at least ten students to join." We both laughed. "You went to Woodsboro, right?" He asked, with a smile still on his face. I took a deep breath before nodding. "I did. Yeah."

"I'm sorry for what happened. I don't think I'd ever leave my room again if something like that happened in my hometown. Hell, my mom probably wouldn't let me out of the house." I didn't say anything and his smile dropped. "Shit, I'm sorry. I'll admit I know who you are but that's not why I wanted to talk to you. I do find you beautiful. I was actually hoping maybe…maybe if you'd like to get coffee or something."

"Something happening across the street! The police are over there, come on!" Everyone started to rush back into the house and Sidney came over to me. "Come on." I gave Luke an apologetic look and followed Sidney. As we were getting ready to leave I stopped. "Shit, I forgot my jacket. I'll be–" a hand clamped over my mouth. "Do you not listen to anything I say?!"

I pushed Randy away from me. "No! I do not listen to anything you say. Now, I'm going to go get my jacket!" I turned and walked back into the house. I walked into the living room and over to the couch where I left it but it wasn't there. A hand landed on my shoulder and I yelped. "Sorry! You were just taking a long time." I turned around, putting my hand on my chest. "Jesus, Sid! I'll be out in a second."

"Where's your jacket? Do you need help finding it?" She asked. "I thought I left it on the couch but it's not here. I'm going to look upstairs and I'll be out I promise." She shook her head, "I'm helping you." I sighed and nodded before heading for the stairs. Just as I got there the phone rang. I looked back at Sidney and she shook her head. I went to head upstairs when she called out. "I found it!" She came over and handed it to me and we walked towards the door.

I paused when the phone rang again. "You girls ready?" Derek asked. "Yeah, in a second." I walked over and answered the phone. "Hello?" There was silence on the other end for a few seconds before the modulated voice spoke. "Hello, yn." My whole body froze. "What do you want?" I asked. "What's your favorite scary movie?"

I rolled my eyes. "Real original. If you're going to kill me just don't already you fucking coward!" I yelled. A deep chuck sounded from the other side of the line. "My pleasure." My head snapped to my left when the voice didn't come from the phone. Ghostface stood near the door, knife in hand and tiled his head. "Sidney!" I screamed and he charged at me.

[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.

Masterlist

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[rorywritesjunk]

You're the only thing I wanna touch

Buggy only comes up for air every so often and it's a beautiful sight.

Rating: NC-17 because sexy times. MDNI. Warning: F receiving oral, Buggy with long hair that gets pulled. Buggy likes eating out. A/N: From an Anon's suggestion based off the recently dropped bloopers, specifically the gif below. I hope you enjoy it, Anon! <3

Title from "Love Me Like You Do" by Ellie Goulding.

“Oh fuck.” 

You had lost all sense of time at this point. You didn’t know how long it had been since Buggy had finished fucking you, nearly folding you in half as he drove his cock into you, filling you with his cum. He had pent up energy after dealing with the damn Straw Hats and needed a way to release it all, and after seeing you wearing nothing but a ratty shirt and ill-fitting pants, he pounced and dragged you back to your shared room where he wasted no time in stripping the both of you of your clothes and getting to work. 

He had settled himself between your legs after he was done, your thighs over his shoulders as he braced his hands on them, keeping them apart as he feasted on your pussy. You had your hands tangled in his hair, rocking your hips with his tongue as he dragged it over your entrance.

One of his hands popped off, moving between your legs as his mouth focused on your clit while he pushed two fingers into you, trying to coax more of your juices out. He found your taste intoxicating, and didn’t care that he would be tasting himself as well as you came again from his fingers. He was giving himself time to get hard again before turning you over and fucking you face first into the mattress. 

You tugged his hair a little too hard and he pulled off of you to give you a look and oh, you’d pull his hair harder if you got to see his face like this. Looking at you from between your legs, his mouth glistening from cum and spit. A thick strand of drool and cum connected his mouth to your pussy as he narrowed his eyes at you. His makeup was a mess, smeared all over his face and no doubt the insides of your thighs. You couldn’t help but stare for a moment before he winked and shoved his face back between your legs. Fuck, that was probably the first time he came up for air since he first went down on you.

And honestly, the way he had looked at you, with his face wet with spit and cum, the smeared makeup, was too much for you. Even between your legs, drunk off the taste of your pussy, he still looked fine as fuck to you. His hair was down, tangled and all over the place from your hands pulling on it. How did you get so lucky?

And fuck he had you cumming again shortly after that. You couldn’t help but pull his hair again, screaming his name. He didn’t move away from you, moaning against your pussy as he lapped up your juices, refusing to miss a drop as his tongue swirled and prodded your entrance. Your thighs were trembling, you were sweaty, sticky, and your body was starting to ache. When you finally let go of his hair, letting your hands rest against the blankets, Buggy finally looked up at you with a smirk.

“How ya doin’, babe?” He asked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. You didn’t even want to reply, letting your head fall back against the pillows. He laughed as he started to sit up, lifting your ankles to rest on his shoulders. “Don’t tell me you’re tired, babe. I’m ready to go again.”

[siriusleee]

iv. antibiotics

Zombie Apocalypse AU | SIMON RILEY x f!READER

↳ SUMMARY: The world is trying to knit itself back together after fracturing apart. You're trying to put yourself back together with it; Simon Riley is just trying to stay alive. ↳ WORD COUNT: 2.6K ↳ TAGS: mentions of cannibalism, mentions of shooting things, mentions of dying. smut to come. canon typical violence to come. additional tags to come as the story progresses. female reader. no mentions of "your name". reader is given a nickname later on. nc-17. fandom-blind friendy. ↳ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the lovely anon who asked for a scene from an apocalypse au, and this idea was born. If you'd like to donate to my Ko-Fi, I would appreciate it. ↳ TAG LIST: There will not be a tag list for this story, as Tumblr has issues with letting me tag people. To get notifications of updates, please subscribe on AO3 or turn on notifications for my blog.

additional chapters | ao3

Ghost forces you to crawl up the side of the ravine ahead of him - it’s grueling and painful. Your nails are nearly ripped from their beds when you finally claw your way from the mud and roots, Ghost boosting himself up behind you with a grunt. You collapse onto the ground, the pain in your body compounding with each breath that you take. Ghost’s hands grasp at the back of your filthy shirt, pulling you to your feet. You don’t think that you can move anymore - your muscles are threatening to seize -  but Ghost pushes you forward, forcing you to take one step after the other. The walk back to the cabin is long; you didn’t think that you’d run this far, and by the time the two of you make it back to the cabin, Ghost nearly has to carry you in by the elbow. When the two of you crash through the cabin door, you can’t keep your feet underneath you anymore. You fall to your knees, pain lancing through your kneecaps and wrists that catch your body weight against the wooden floors. Ghost drags you towards the small couch you’d been on just hours before waiting for your chance to escape. He sets you down roughly onto the broken-down cushions, one hand holding both of your wrists with one of his own. He bends down to be level with you, mud splattering the bit of skin that you can see, his brown eyes like two pieces of flint. “If you try to run again,” he says, voice even and low, “I will let them capture you and I won’t come to save you.” You nod wordlessly, and the lines around his eyes harden before he speaks again. “We leave in just a few hours; you should try to sleep some.” You didn’t think you would sleep, but the sound of slamming jogs you from a thick twilight you didn’t know you’d fallen into. Ghost stands at the table, rifle slung over his shoulder, pack on his back. On the table, your bow lies with one arrow across it. His message is loud and clear: you get one shot if you try to kill him. You’d better be successful with it. You unfold yourself from the small couch, mud and dirt falling from you in a shower. It takes so much of what’s in you to move forward, towards the table. Your pack sits where you left it yesterday, and when you pick it up, shoulder screaming, you notice the extra weight from your canteen. It sloshes heavily as you slide your stiff arms through the straps. Ghost must have filled it last night. The idea that he filled your canteen for you itches at a level of annoyance you try not to pay attention to as you take up your bow.

The two of you don’t speak to each other as you fall in line behind Ghost, your bow held like you were taught: loose enough that your muscles don’t cramp, but tight enough that you’re ready to go at any moment. The forest stays slumbering as the two of you traverse beneath the treetops. As the sun rises, the sounds of birds tittering fill the forest. The sun has barely moved in the sky before you have to stop, feet faltering beneath you. Ghost pauses just head, head turned slightly towards you as you lean against the rough bark of one of the trees. “Sorry I just-” you try to wet your lips, but your tongue is like sandpaper. “I just need a moment.” Your heart feels like it’s going to burst from your throat; with trembling fingers, you pull your canteen to your lips. When you drink, water dribbles down your chin and onto your shirt; you wipe it away with a freezing hand. Ghost doesn’t turn toward you, his own hands wrapped around his rifle. By the time you’re able to move again, you can feel his impatience rolling off of him in waves, but he keeps his mouth shut. “Where are we going?” You ask, the stretch of silence unnerving you. Your throat is still raw, still sore from the sudden increase in speaking you’ve been doing over the past two days. It’s a wonder to you: that you even still know how to speak after so long of silence. “You’ll see when we get there.” It’s a maddening response, your fingers flex around your bow weakly, but you keep in step with him. You’d made a game of it after a while, trying to line each of your steps with his so that if anyone follows they’ll think it was just one of you. You needed something to keep you distracted. The walk is torture, heat creeping through your body, each injury still so incredibly painful. The forest floor inclines upwards, pulling at each of the bones in your body with sharp little wires, threatening to pull you down into the dirt — more than once your feet falter beneath you. The incline grows too rough, and a wave of nausea rolls over your body. There’s not even a second to ask Ghost to stop before you’re heaving, bent in half. There’s nothing in your stomach but bile, and a bit of water - you leave it in a puddle on the forest floor. “You alright?” Ghosts asks, irritation coloring his voice. You nod, spitting on the ground to try and get the acrid taste of stomach acid out of your mouth. “Just - tired.” You don’t want to admit to him how you feel, worried that if you do he’ll leave you here to the mercy of the Biters and Mother Nature. One arrow is going to get you nowhere, you need a real chance to fight before you try and run again.

The razor wire is the first thing you see, rising heavily in the distance. You slow, trying to make out the shape of the walls, the jut of the towering buildings in the distance. Backlight by the struggling moon, the shapes are familiar enough to tug at memories buried deep.

“Is this a military base?” You ask, exhausted. Ghost’s steps hadn’t stopped once after the farmhouse shrunk behind the two of you. Neither of you had spoken in the intermediate time. 

Ghost doesn’t answer you, just slings his rifle onto his shoulders and steps into the clearing. You hesitate; a flash catches your eye and they’re immediately drawn to one of the sniper towers. You can just make out the shape of a person there, but it’s hard to see anything other than their form in the darkness.

“Are you coming?”

Ghost’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you step towards him, palms suddenly sweaty. 

A million questions are rattling around inside your brain, and each of them is replaced by another as the sound of rattling chains and metal fills the air. Materializing in the night forest, a gate three times as tall as you appear like a fairy house. The hunk iron and chain link pull open just enough for one man to squeeze through, the barrels of guns pointed out in the space. 

Ghost lifts his hand in a familiar greeting; the barrels don’t fall, but turn to you. Ghost says something, but you can’t hear him over your thoughts. He slips through the gate, and for half a second you panic that they’ll slam it shut behind him and leave you outside. 

But it stays open just long enough for you to slip through. Rough hands grab at you, pulling the bow from your hand, shoving you in a circle as you try to make out individual faces, pulling roughly at your clothes. Ghost’s voice barks out orders - you try to turn towards the sound of him, but a fire erupts at the base of your skull and midnight settles around you.

Soft fingers trace the curve of your hip; in the early morning light you can’t make out his face, but you recognize the planes of him beneath your fingertips. You’d know him anywhere, every mole and scar memorized until you could draw them from memory.

“Are you awake yet?”

His voice is easy in the early morning - sweeter than he usually sounds. You can’t help the smile that sketches itself onto your face as you turn away from the bright light streaming in through the window. 

“Been awake.”

His fingers tangle in the soft downy hair at the base of your hair, pulling your head back gently until your neck is exposed. The warmth of his breath dances at the pulse point beneath your jaw, and you jump. His chuckle rumbles through his chest and into yours.

Nipping at the tender flesh of his neck, his hands trace down until he’s gripping your forearm. You try to pull away, to reach up and touch him, but his grip grows bruising. You try to pull away, but his nails dig into your arm, stinging until you feel tears start at the corner of your eye. 

“What are you doing?” Panic starts to color your voice as you struggle to get away. He doesn’t answer, twisting the tender flesh of your arm harder until you scream.

The rawness of your throat wakes you up. There’s a rush in your ears as you fight against whatever is holding you down. The world spins around you, a nauseating swirl of brown and gray - faintly you hear someone shouting at you; your fist connects with the hard outline of a jaw before you’re pinned down.

It takes seconds, hours - maybe days - for the room to stop spinning around you, and the voices become clear. 

Squinting against the bright light shining down on your face, you can make out the face of an older woman, her hair cropped close to her scalp and an ugly red mark blossoming against her cheek. She’s talking to you slowly, but it’s still difficult to make out the words; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s getting tired of repeating herself.

“Do you remember your name?”

You turn away from the light, expecting to see someone else at your side holding you down. But it’s her hands pinning your arms to your side with a strength that doesn’t fully match the wrinkles on her forehead.

Ungluing your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you speak - faintly remembering the name you told Ghost. 

“Dove. My name’s Dove.”

The set of her tongue against her teeth tells you that she’s not happy with you, but you can’t bring yourself to care around the sledgehammer pounding behind your eyes. Her grip loosens by a centimeter. 

“I need you to calm down or I’ll have to restrain you again.”

She speaks with the kind of smooth authority that tells you she’s not afraid to pin you down again, that there’s no worries about who would win if she tried.

You nod painfully - it feels like the movement will shatter your spine if you move too fast. The woman retracts her hands, one moving underneath your shoulder to help you sit up. You grit your teeth together to keep from throwing up on her feet or screaming in her face. 

When the world rights itself around you, you take a second to look around. Despite the darkness and the ambient dingyness, you can tell you’re in some sort of medical treatment. The corners of each of the beds are tucked in with meticulous hospital corners and empty IV stands are lined up mechanically against the wall. Beside the bed you’re sitting on is a little metal tray with a manual blood pressure cuff on it. The only light in the room blazes above you.

The woman stands in front of you, arms crossed on her chest. 

“I’m Doc,” she states, pulling a little stool over with her foot, and sitting down carefully on it. The wheel squeaks horribly. “You were in rough shape - do you remember how you got that way?”

The image of a skeleton mask floats in your vision; you press the heels of your palm into your eyes to try and press it away.

“Ghost.” His name sits like a stone at the tip of your tongue.

Doc chuckles, picking up the blood pressure cuff from the little table. 

“You’re not the sorriest-looking person he’s ever dragged in here if that makes you feel better.”

On instinct, you extend your arm so she can slip the cuff around your arm. The little needle jumps with each pulse of the bulb; you watch it like you know what it’s supposed to say. When it’s almost too painful to bear, she releases the pressure and when it’s back to 0 she pulls it off of your arm depositing it back onto the table.

“Well you’ve got a cracked rib for sure, and probably a few other fractures based on the bruising. And you’re malnourished. There’s an infection creeping up your calf muscle; Ghost seemed to have walked you half to death.”

You think of how you threw up on the trail, how each step seemed to feel like a march towards death.

“You could say that.”

She sighs, wiping her hands against her pants. “Well you’re going to be down for a while don’t over-exert yourself. I’ll have the mess hall notified to give you one and a half portions for a few weeks until you don’t look like a walking skeleton and you’ll have to report here each day for your antibiotics.”

You nod your head like you understand what she’s saying. The thought of antibiotics is so foreign to you, so odd in contrast to the world you knew outside. There’s a look in her eye you can’t discern, and you don’t try as she pushes herself to a standing position, the little wheeled stool rolling away behind her.

“Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”

[sweet-potatah-pie]

Masterlist👸🏾💚🤴🏽

Here's my full list of Tiana x Naveen fan fiction!

Fun fact: all of my fics exist in the same canon universe! Below, I separated them into fics that make sense when read in a certain order and ones where the order doesn't matter.

Do I take requests? Sometimes. Click here for the types of requests I'm open to.

Just wanna chat patf? Send me an ask or message! 💖

This list updates as I update!!!

✨Best read in this order✨

A Place of Their Own | 7.8k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | Tiana and Naveen's second wedding night, but first time.

Tell Me a Story | 5.9k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | One night when Tiana can’t sleep, Naveen tells her a bedtime story worth staying awake for.

Just Drive | 3.6k words | One Shot | PG-13 | Naveen takes Tiana on a drive around the lake after an argument.

A Loneliness Like Theirs | 5.4k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | Tiana is lonely while Naveen is away in Maldonia...but not for long.

🆕 The People's Princess | 19.9k words and counting | Chapter 3 of 5 available | PG-13 | On Tiana’s first trip to Maldonia, she is confronted with a surprise that determines what type of princess she’ll be.

The Chocolate Venus | 13.6k words | 4 Chapters, Completed | Explicit, 18+ | On a trip to Paris, Tiana fears that she has reason to be jealous of Naveen’s famous old friend, Josephine Baker. But is that really the case?

Those Who Wait | 21.1k words | 5 Chapters, Completed | Explicit, 18+ | Someone special from Tiana’s past has turned up unexpectedly—and he’s not showing signs of retreating. But Naveen comes from a long line of conquerors, and he won’t back down so easily either.

Girls' Night Out | 2.4k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | Tiana, Georgia, and Lottie get ready together before a night out. Of course, their gossip turns towards Tiana’s love life—and if all those rumors about her husband are true.

King for a Day | 2.4k words | One Shot | PG-13 | Tiana wants her family and friends to try her new king cake recipe, but there's a bigger surprise hidden in the cake than expected.

Caught in the Storm | 10.4k words | 3 Chapters, Completed | Explicit, 18+| When a tired Tiana struggles to fall asleep one night, Naveen takes her to the restaurant’s rooftop to pass the time. But will the unexpected rain ruin their fun—or add to it?

Lovers for Life | 1.8k words | One Shot | Mature, NC-17| Another day. Another lucky morning Tiana and Naveen get to wake up to each other, even if they have to keep a few guests waiting.

Make a Wish | 7.2k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | When their snowy getaway doesn’t go as planned, Tiana turns her husband’s birthday trip into a night that’s hotter than he ever imagined.

✨Read in any order✨

In the Hot Seat | 7.9k words | 3 Chapters, Completed | Explicit, 18+ | Tiana and Naveen try their best to escape the Louisiana heat. But will they end up keeping their cool, or heating things up instead?

I'm Going to Make You Scream | 8.6k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | When Tiana’s voodoo costume does not flatter as intended, Mama Odie makes Naveen teach the princess a Halloween lesson she won't soon forget.

The Most Important Meal of the Day | 4.6k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | As Tiana prepares breakfast, Naveen gets a craving for something a little different.

Heat and Steam | 5.3k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | Naveen has just finished building a shower for Tiana in their bathroom. He wants her to test it out. She wants him to join her.

Midnight Masquerade | 6.3k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | After a night full of mingling and dancing at Charlotte’s masquerade ball, Tiana and Naveen sneak away for a moment—and hope they don’t get caught.

Drunk in Love | 5.6k words | One Shot | Explicit, 18+ | Tiana and Naveen are readying the restaurant's store room for health inspection. But things take a turn when they discover a not-so-empty wine barrel in their inventory.

💖💖💖

[ericsprincess]

keep it coming like that roar

nc-17, Jacob Bae/reader, incubus!Jacob, inexperienced!Jacob, penetrative sex, a bit crack-y

~~~

You get visited by an inexperienced incubus. 

~~~

Sheet mask on? Check. Glass of wine? Check. Favorite drama ready to be played? Check. 

You take a sip from your wine and lean back onto the pillows on your bed. You pull the blanket over you so that you’re nice and cozy. 

Finally the weekend, finally some time to unwind. After as much chaos at work as you experienced this week, you really deserve some me-time. You’ve been looking forward to catching up with this drama for the whole week, but so far, every single day, when you finally crawled back home from work, you managed only to shower, eat, and drop dead into your bed. 

But now, nothing is standing between you and some well-deserved relax. Who knows, maybe you will even dig out something out of your long abandoned box of sex toys under the bed and make the evening even better. You will see where this bottle of wine will take you. 

You take the tv remote and you’re just about to press play when you get suddenly startled by a sound. 

Knock knock. 

You sit up. What was that? Did you imagine that? You take off your sheet mask and quickly look around. It was not a door knock, it sounded more like something tapping on a glass, but you’re alone in your room. Ghosts? No, that’s stupid, you scold yourself. It was probably something that carried over from the neighbors’ apartment and you just misheard. You lie back down on the pillow, trying to calm down your quickened heartbeat. 

Knock knock. “Excuse me?”

Well now you definitely didn’t imagine that - neither the knocking or the feeble voice.

You quickly kick off the blanket and get out of your bed. The voice clearly went from your window. Burglars, you think and grab the lamp sitting on your nightstand, as a measly tool for possible necessary self-defense. It briefly flashes through your mind that it’s odd that burglars might be trying to get into your apartment through the window on the sixth floor, but you’re too distressed to think more about it. Your heart is beating so fast and it’s like you don’t even have time to be scared, you have to do something. 

You get closer to the window and there it is. Or, more like, there is he. 

You can barely see anything in the night light, but right outside of the window, perched on the windowsill, there is a guy, knocking on the glass panel. 

“Uh, hello? Can you please let me in?” he tries, with a soft voice and knocks again. He looks awkward and almost apologetic, but you know not to trust anyone. Especially not burglars. 

You grasp the lamp tighter and full of adrenaline yell back at him. 

“No, FUCK OFF! No idea who you think that you are but, I’m calling the police right now!!” You quickly look around to find your phone and jump onto the bed to fish it out from under your blanket, when you hear him sigh. 

“Ah, I really tried…” *swoosh* 

You look at the window after the sound but it’s…empty? There is nothing behind it anymore. 

Did I imagine that? you think. You walk back to check the window but there is really nothing, just the night skyline with a view over the city. But before you even have a chance to calm down and reconsider your future alcohol consumption, you hear it again, now behind you. 

*swoosh*

You turn back. And there he stands. The same guy, but now he’s right in your bedroom. 

You take a deep breath to start screaming for your dear life, when he runs to you and grabs you by your shoulders. 

“Hey, don’t scream, Y/N. Calm down, I’m not a burglar. I won’t hurt you, I promise,” he says with a gentle and soothing voice. You look into his eyes and they are glowing red. His touch, as well as his voice, is strangely calming, and both are so pleasant. Despite everything, you take a hold of yourself. WIth just one touch, all the stress in your body fizzles out. 

He seems to notice it and lets you go and steps back, which gives you a chance to look at him better, now that you’re not panicking. 

He’s not tall, but not short either and he is nicely built - kinda muscular, with really nice broad shoulders, He’s wearing only a simple oversized white shirt with black jeans, and it’s unbuttoned enough that his (nicely developed, you couldn’t help but notice) chest is peeking through. 

His hair is honey blond and falling into his face in a sexy way and his face itself is also very striking - with pretty eyes and enviable jawline, he’s definitely your type. 

All the fight leaves your body and you helplessly ask: “What do you want from me?”

“Uh,” he shifts his weight awkwardly. “I guess I should explain everything. My name is Jacob and I am an incubus. Our systems detected a very high level of…uh…sexual energy from you, therefore I am here to offer my services,” he adds, with a smile that’s only a bit nervous. 

Ah. You have, of course, heard about incubi already. 

“That sounds suspicious. What do you want in exchange for it? Money? I will definitely not pay for anything like that. Or..” a thought occurs to you. “My soul? Do I have to sign off my soul to the devil or what? I mean, I guess I’m probably already not going to heaven, but like, at least I’m trying to be a good person sometimes,” you ramble.

“No such thing, don’t worry,” Jacob hurries to reassure you. “Us, incubi, we feed on sexual energy. You will just feel really tired after that and fall asleep immediately, that’s all.” 

“Oh. And by that you mean…?”

“Sex.”

“Oh.”

You consider your options. He already semi-ruined your nice evening with a drama and wine, and you know you would be probably too shaken to even fall asleep if you just sent him away now. And it’s not like you haven’t already planned to put your vibrator to use after a couple of glasses. And it will cost you basically nothing. And he’s your type. It’s just practical at this point. 

It’s really not at all difficult to convince yourself to give in. 

“Okay. I guess I agree. You’re better not pulling some stunt on me though,” you threaten, frowning. 

“I’m not, I swear.” he smiles at you gently, and this must be some part of his special incubus charms, because it completely disarms you. He’s too cute. And his voice is just beautiful. 

Can’t wait to hear him moan, flashes through your head. 

He closes the distance between you, his eyes not leaving your face. He gently touches your chin and next moment his lips are on yours. He’s a good kisser, starting with slow, small kisses while his hand sneaks around your waist and hugs you closer. He licks your bottom lip and you get the question hidden in the gesture and let his tongue slip into your mouth. He feels really good, you think. His body is so warm and his scent is heavenly, even the little gasps and noises he sometimes lets out while kissing, even those sound like music to your ears. 

You can really understand how he was made to be attractive. Made for people to want to have sex with him.  

You feel yourself getting wet and you decide to move things a little. You start to unbutton his shirt and he gets the hint and helps you out of your pyjamas. Running your hands over his body, you really appreciate everything you see. You squeeze one of his pecs while he leans down to kiss along your neck. So good, you could play with just his chest for the whole night. 

“Let’s go to bed,” you whisper and he stops sucking hickeys into your collarbone and nods eagerly with a smile. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans and takes them off with surprising elegance. 

He’s not wearing anything under his jeans and you can’t help your curiosity, so your eyes get immediately lured to his cock. It’s not like there is any kind of pretense anymore so you just stare unashamedly. He’s a nice decent size, not too big, but definitely not too small either, with adequate thickness and pretty shape. And it’s uncut, you notice, and you can feel yourself start to salivate. Everything about him is simply perfect. 

He throws the pants away and takes you by the hand to your bed. You’re almost expecting him to push you roughly on the bed and straight up ravage you, but no such thing happens. Instead of that, he surprises you by getting on the bed alone, setting himself up on all fours, waiting. He even throws a sexy smoldering bedroom eyes look over his shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” you ask incredulously. 

“Waiting for you to fuck me,” he sighs and lowers down his upper body to rest on the bed, in face down ass up position, to make himself look even more attractive and fuckable. 

You would be lying if you didn’t find it hot, but you can clearly see there is some kind of misunderstanding going on right now. 

“Like, in your ass? And how would I do that? Not sure if you have noticed, but I am a woman and I don’t have a dick,” you ask him, wildly gesturing around your crotch. 

He seems caught off guard by that. He drops down on the bed and sits up, looking confused. 

“Oh. I’m sorry. I guess…. I did not consider that?”

“How could you not?” you ask in complete disbelief. “You’re an incubus, for fuck’s sake!” 

“Uh..well yeah, but so far I’ve been sent only to men.” he scratches his head awkwardly. He’s blushing and definitely embarrassed by this situation.  

”I’m actually sort of new to this? And, usually we don’t get sent to women until we get some practice. Men are easier to satisfy, like, it’s mostly enough to just be there, so we sort of have to earn being sent to women. But Hyunjae - uh sorry, that’s our dispatcher demon - he said that he thinks that I am ready and that he’s getting unusually high sexual energy levels from you, so you will definitely know what to do with me. I should know better than to trust Hyunjae, but…” he shakes his head. 

“So like, what are we going to do now?” you ask, getting impatient. Ah, a way to be disappointed… 

“Uh, do you like… have a strap-on, perhaps?” he beeps meekly, looking down at his hands folded in his lap awkwardly. 

You roll your eyes. “Actually, I do. But fucking you with plastic cock will not make me cum, so it’s pointless, isn’t it?” 

“Ah…” he sighs. He seems to be thinking for a moment. You let him go through whatever thought process he has in his mind, gathering all the patience you’re capable of.

“Okay, I guess it’s time to be a man.” He straightens up, and looks up at you, with newfound determination in his eyes. 

“If you excuse my inexperience, I would like to continue with our arrangement as we agreed beforehands.” 

“Really?” you doubt. “What convinced you?”

“Uh. Honestly? I’m still scared, but I doubt I will have another chance to have my first time with a woman with someone as attractive as you,” he replies and you smile smugly. Even in case he’s buttering you up a little, it’s the correct answer. 

“And also, Hyunjae will laugh at me forever if I chicken out,” he shrugs. Well, can’t have it all, you snort. 

He reaches his hand to you and you take it, joining him in bed. You lie down and let him lean over you so that he can kiss you. It doesn’t take long to build up the atmosphere again and after a few moments the kiss gets really heated. His hands are roaming all over your body, touching and squeezing, learning where everywhere you’re sensitive and where it feels good. 

He lowers his head to suck on your nipples while you’re just lying down and enjoying his attention and you use the opportunity to reach for his cock. He’s already fully hard again, wet with precum and pretty much ready to go. You pump it a few times and he hums in appreciation with your nipple in his mouth. He clearly figures out this is the way to go and copies you, brushing his hand down your body to your pussy, fingers dipping between your folds, just to find out how wet you are. 

He rubs gently over your clit and he does it already with perfect pressure and angle, clearly executing his talent and special ability to figure out in an instant, what would make you tick.

“Hmmm, so good, you’re doing well, Jacob,” you praise him and he lifts his head from your tits to smile at you, happy that he seems to get the hang of it. He kisses you again while he keeps touching your pussy and you know at this point he could easily get you off like that - but that’s not what you want right now. 

“Wanna try it first from the opposite side?” you talk low into his ear and gently push him off you, so that you can settle into the same face-down-ass-up position he did just a while ago. 

“Oh, yeah, that sounds really good,” he situates himself right behind you and looks down between your bodies. 

“Do I just..put it in?” he hesitates. 

“Yeah,” you chuckle. You’re dripping wet and definitely more than ready. “At this point it’s the only thing left to do.”

“Okay,” he breathes out, bracing himself at the last moment and pushes in. “Ohhh,” he lets out a moan, and you peek over your shoulder to look at him. His eyes are closed and mouth open in pure bliss. 

“Oh god, please, Y/N, can I move?” he begs, his hips already thrusting into you a little, as if he’s not able to completely stop himself from fucking. 

“Yes, please,” you whine. “You don’t have to hold back, I’m sure you’ll figure it out quickly.”

He doesn’t waste even a second and starts fucking you with strong hard strokes, and the only thing you can do is hold on to the bed sheets for your dear life. You would never guess that this is his first time fucking, he’s already getting the perfect tempo and depth, and his cock feels so good as if he was made exactly for you. 

He’s holding onto your waist, fucking you vigorously, while letting out heavenly sounding moans, his cock stretching you in the most delightful way. His tempo is unwavering and as he’s fucking you, he pushes you even lower by your waist and the change of angle makes you lose your mind with pleasure. His cock is rubbing into all the best spots inside you, and you are almost screaming with pleasure, barely having the presence of mind to try to sneak a hand down to rub at your clit, but you don’t even have time to do that and you’re already coming, just from his cock. You bury your face into the pillow as you moan and gasp through your orgasm and his relentless fucking is just prolonging it more and more, and you can’t even tell clearly, but it feels like you’re coming for a second time too. 

Jacob behind you is also gasping and moaning and he lets himself cum as if on command only at the moment he feels you come down from your orgasm, pumping you full of cum, until it drips from you on the bed when he finally pulls out. 

He drops next to you on the bed, just as you slump down on your belly. He’s barely out of breath, even after such strenuous activity. You reach out a hand to pet his chest.

“Wow, not bad at all for a first timer,” you sigh in bliss. “I should have expected such talent from an incubus,” you turn to smile at him and kiss him, just to meet his eyes, wide open in surprise. 

“H-how are you not falling asleep? People usually drop dead right after.. ” he stutters, completely taken aback. 

You shrug. “To be honest, I’m not even tired.” 

You stretch like a cat to help your stiffened muscle, then roll over and push him lying down to bed and straddle his lap. 

“Next round? I’ll teach you how to eat pussy.”

***3 hours later***

“Oh god, Jacob, ah,” you moan while he’s fucking into you from behind, spooning on the bed. He’s all read and sweaty and out of breath, fucking you despite being oversensitive and probably in pain, but you’re not letting him stop, not until you cum again. He brings his hand in front of you, rubbing at your clit to get you off, fighting a cramp in his wrist. He’s completely ruined, you realize as he’s whining into your ear, when you finally spasm with orgasm in his embrace. 

He buries his face into your neck, breathing heavily. He seems to not even care anymore about whether he gets to cum too, since it’s probably too painful for him at this point. 

“One more?” you taunt him. 

He groans and pulls away. 

“I-I think I got enough energy from you now, thank you. Actually, I think it’s counterproductive to continue now, and I am starting to lose it,” he stutters. He stumbles out of bed, clearly completely fucked out, his muscles screaming in pain. Aww, you think. 

“Uh, I think I have to go now. But, uhh,” he blushes, forcing himself to look at you. 

“This was really great and I learnt a lot, I hope I was able to catch up with you at least a little. Even though I doubt so. Uhh,” he clears his throat. “I can visit you some other time too, if you would like to. Maybe you can show me some other new things?” 

“Sure,” you nod nonchalantly. You’re not even hiding your satisfaction about wearing out an actual incubus like that. 

“Okay, thank you,” he bows a little. He quickly grabs his clothes and quite fucking literally jumps out of your window naked into the night. 

You run to the window and lean out of it, shouting after him. 

“Hey! Bring your demon friend next time!”  

[biaswreckme]

willow | seongjoong

"Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind" or Pirate Captain Kim Hongjoong meets witch Park Seonghwa.

Fandom: Ateez

Pairing: Hongjoong/Seonghwa

Member: Hongjoong, Seonghwa

Word count: 722 words

Genre/Tropes: Alternate Universe (Fantasy), Romance, Fluff

Rating: nc-17

Triggers/Warnings: implied sexual content (very light, tagging and rating it nc-17 just to be safe), mention of people bullying Seonghwa

You can read it on: AO3

Seonghwa could still vividly remember to this day the first time that the pirate Captain had stopped by the small village. He had been in the nearby woods, gathering some herbs, when the strange ship descended from the sky and caused a ripple in the water below the decks. He had only observed from afar as a peculiar and colorful crew descended onto land, his eyes almost straining to follow who he would later learn was Captain’s confident movements. He didn’t investigate why or for how long they would be staying in the village, but he was glad that for once the attention would not be on him for a while. He could finally just be for a few days, not having to worry if that would be the day they decided to burn him at a stake. 

He had certainly not been expecting a knock on his door a couple of days later, for the people usually avoided him at all costs, sometimes preferring to perish instead of seeking his aid. Seonghwa opened his front door just enough for him to see who was on the other side yet at the same time having enough leverage in case he needed to protect himself.

“So I hear you’re a witch, is that true?” the man who had knocked asked without any hesitation.

Seonghwa just blinked in response, fingers clenching on the wood, and the man smiled at him, blonde hair ruffling with the late afternoon breeze. 

“Good, nice to meet you, I’m Captain Kim Hongjoong.”

It turns out that the Captain was in need of some medicinal herbs to keep on the ship for emergencies, but, to Seonghwa’s ignorance, all the other reasons he gave for the visits were made up. Hongjoong prided himself in being a good and focused leader, but there was something about this tall handsome man with dark long hair and sad eyes that almost seemed to scream loneliness that captivated his attention. And so it took no time at all until Seonhwa learned all about the crew of the Illusion, the strange ship that sailed the seas and the skies, the Captain’s presence in his home a curious constant in the week they spent on land. 

Seven days and they were gone, and Seonghwa was back to being alone, heart aching so painfully at knowing company and having lost it.

Until the ship rolled in again, that is.

The Illusion never stayed long in the village, and it was always uncertain when they would dock, but Seonghwa learned to be hopeful instead of just hollow, anticipating the Captain’s companionship - and occasionally one or two of the crew who accompanied him. The crew always stayed at the small inn by the docks, and their repeated visits to the village - and their spending - had people stop bothering Seonghwa. He could get used to not having rocks thrown at him whenever he strayed too far from his small cottage or dirty looks and whispers thrown in his direction (he knew people still talked and despised him, but at least they were hiding it better). 

With constancy came intimacy and feelings foreign to both of them. Their lips were tentative the first time they touched, Hongjoong holding dearly onto Seonghwa’s shivering frame as their mouths pressed against each other, shaky breaths mingling with smiles and tears of happiness. And soon Hongjoong would start sneaking out of the inn and into the cottage, huddling into Seonghwa’s warmth under the covers. The Captain found it fascinating how the other man would shiver whenever bare skin met bare skin. Fingers traced old and new scars, learning each other’s bodies like their own, and stories were shared under the blessing of the moonlight. And more than once Hongjoong was caught by one of his crew going back late in the morning, the minutes and hours passing by without care whenever they were together. 

But this time, it was different. There was a sense of urgency to everything, for the crew of the Illusion would set sail to a place too far to be sure they would be able to come back any time that could be considered soon. The situation was explained, and each breath and touch shared had the taste of farewell. To Seonghwa, every second was filled with desperation, and he could feel the distant and now unfamiliar loneliness wanting to seep into his veins, until he decided to wreck his own plans - or lack thereof. He had never imagined leaving his cottage, but home was now Hongjoong. 

There would be no looking back.

“Take my hand, Seonghwa.”

“Wherever you stray, I’ll follow.”

[hongcherry]

Hii! I hope you're doing well! Can you please write something based on this? I was thinking about the reader feeling jealous and wanting Jungkook's attention and he finds it cute, but the reader feels even more sad thinking JK is "laughing at their feelings" and not taking them seriously (happy ending, please 😀). I literally love your works and you were the first blog who came to my mind when I had this idea. 💖 English is not my first language and this is my first time requesting, so I'm sorry if there is any mistakes. Tysm in advance, take caree! 💕

my type || jjk

"For some, having a whiny, needy partner may be annoying. For Jungkook, you're just his type."

💗 Pairing: nonIdol!Jungkook x Reader (f)

💗 Rating/Genre/AUs: NC-17; Fluff; established relationship, non idol au

💗 Warnings: Pet names (princess, babe/baby, angel), a lil suggestive at the end if you use your imagination

💗 Word Count: 793

💗 Author's Note: Apologies for how late this is! Tysm for sending in your ask!!! So glad to have you here. I'm very honored that you thought of me first (no one has told me that before omfg 😭) and love my works D: And don't worry about mistakes, there's no judgment on my blog 💜 English is hard 😭 (and you wrote so well!). I hope you enjoy!

bts masterlist | main masterlist

Jungkook’s not supposed to be this invested in the movie.

You had put on a random film as an excuse to cuddle him since he’s been nose-deep in his music. You get it. He has a show he has to prepare for, but he’s been so focused on his performance that he’s been neglecting you.

Jungkook sits with his eyes glued to the TV, enraptured as the main character fights their enemy. His hand was rubbing your side earlier but stopped as his interest grew. You wait patiently for him to continue his light touches, but he never does.

You shift slightly in your spot in hopes to encourage him to pay attention to you. He remains still. You trace his tattoos. He doesn’t spare you a glance.

A small whine leaves your mouth.

“Kookie,” you say, peering at him to see if he looks at you. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to hear you over the screaming from the screen.

After your third attempt, you take matters into your own hands.

You climb into his lap and grab his handsome face.

“Please stop ignoring me, Koo,” you pout.

Jungkook’s gaze slowly moves from the TV behind you to your eyes. His eyes begin to crinkle at your expression.

“Have you been trying to get my attention, Princess?” he asks, hands coming up to massage your hips.

You huff, but it’s not from anger. More from anguish and eagerness. “Yes! For the past like… five minutes!”

Jungkook laughs. “Oh? Sorry, babe. The movie’s almost over, okay? Then I’ll give you what you want.”

Before you can reply, he pulls you closer so you’re forced to hug him. He’s quiet as he goes back to his movie, hands languidly rubbing you. However, like before, they eventually still.

You don’t want to be that needy partner who needs affection 24/7, but you’re starting to feel desperate. You’ve been deprived of his attention for weeks, and now a stupid movie has captured your boyfriend’s focus instead.

To make matters worse, he laughed at you. Laughed! As if he thought this is amusing to him, but you’re not amused.

You’re tempted to get up and leave, announcing something about how if he won’t give you interest then you don’t need to be there, but you’re tired of not getting what you want.

You’ve been wanting his attention for so long, and you’re going to get it.

Now.

You push against his chest as you sit up before cupping his face again. This time, you don’t give him time to say much before you capture his lips with yours.

“Wha-Hmph!”

You press your mouth harder against his when you feel him trying to pull away.

His lips stretch in a wide smile into the kiss, chest vibrating from his silent laughter. Finally, after a few more seconds, you pull away.

“You’re ignoring me,” you state matter-of-factly.

Jungkook laughs again, which causes your frown to deepen.

“And you’re laughing at my feelings! Do you not care that you’re in a relationship?” you whine.

Jungkook’s laughter eases as he becomes serious. “Awh, my poor baby. I’m sorry,” he says softly.

He guides you down to kiss you once more. It’s shorter this time.

“I didn’t mean to ignore you. You know how I get when I’m focused,” he explains. You’re aware it’s easy for him to zero in on whatever he’s doing.

“I know,” you sigh, “but I wish you would find some time for me, too.”

He nods in understanding. “I’ll try better.”

Your lips still linger in a pout as you stare at him.

“You’re so cute,” Jungkook chuckles. “My needy princess.”

“I’m not cute,” you argue with a huff. Sadly, you can’t argue the “needy” part.

“You’re very cute,” he insists. He brings a hand up and rubs your cheek softly.

“I just want you to stop ignoring me.” Your voice is quiet. Sad almost.

Jungkook smiles. “You have my attention. That’s all my baby wants, right? You don’t want me to look at anyone or anything else unless it’s you, hm?”

He sounds a little taunting, a little too cocky, but you don’t care. You don’t care if you’re boosting his silly ego or if you’re being selfish. You deserve to feel loved, and you know Jungkook loves you. He’s just been distracted.

You nod repeatedly.

Jungkook repositions you both on the couch, so you’re laying down. He hovers over you, strong arms resting on either side of your face. His long hair dangles down toward you.

“You can have it all, angel,” he murmurs. “You can have all of me. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a dream,” you say, hands rising to play with his hair and earning you a cheeky smile from Jungkook.

Thank you again! I need cheeky Jungkook 🫠 im needy, jungkook, we'd be perfect together.

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[my-favourite-zhent]

New Tricks - Chapter 19

Status: Work In Progress

Version: 1.01

Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!OC

Rating: NC-17 (This chapter PG-13)

Genre: Adventure/Romance

Summary: Misadventures of Rugan and the original Zhentarim Gate's crew before and during the year of three sailing ships.

Notes: When one chapter becomes three. The main scenes for the next two upcoming chapters were written way back when I was struggling with chapter six. It was meant to be chapter eight but the plot got away from me a bit. This chapter started out as a little extra tidbit at the start but ended up growing into its own thing and for once I didn't delete an Izzy POV chapter.

Thank you to @fistfuloftarenths, @captainsigge, @dustdeepsea for always being my wonderful betas and providing me with encouragement. If it weren't for you all I think I would've deleted this chapter.

Dust also had the great suggestion of including the clip from Izzy's notebook and showed me how to do all the lovely formatting you will see in this chapter <3. (Check the AO3 link for that and additional footnotes as it's not in the tumblr post)

Also a shout out to @coreene for having such a treasure trove of lore on her tumblr! Always super helpful for fleshing out the background world lore.

Table of Contents

Read Here on AO3 or below the cut.

By now rotten luck had coloured most of Isolde’s life. 

It seemed to her that it had all begun after her parents' untimely deaths when she was sixteen.

What had begun as one bad year became two, with her exile to some gods forsaken farmlands and her first heartbreak at seventeen. 

The following year had appeared to break the trend—she had been offered the position of sizar at the university where her parents once taught. Only in reality it had simply been a year spent building the framework for a truly devastating nineteenth year and an end to her academic aspirations. Her first lover came and went. First friends came and went. Corra was the only good thing to come out of her short-lived scholastic career.

The jobs had been like that too. Someone would turn traitor or stupid. Load bearing beams would give way. Priceless urns would be full of fucking venomous spiders. Only now she had been prepared for rotten luck. Moulded by it.

Now she always slipped a spare trinket under her blouse or in her boot just in case the job didn't pay. Now she kept her valuables in a safe deposit box on the off chance her room got ransacked again. Now she slept in her road breeches with a knife under her pillow, and while she'd never been trained to kill, jabbing someone who wasn't expecting it gave you a good head start on an escape. 

Seventeen years of bad luck had taught her to be prepared and to be persistent. She had survived and even sometimes thrived because of it.

So now, as she watched the sailors drag her chest up onto the deck of the ship, she felt especially stupid.

“My tools are in there! I've paid you good coin to transport those!” She screamed, but her voice could barely be heard by the man next to her over the crashing of the waves. 

The ship rocked under another violent tumult of wind. The tempest had come upon them without any warning, clear blue skies had become turbulent greys streaked in black and white in mere moments. There wasn't even supposed to be storms like this on the Sword Coast for another month. It was just her luck. 

Distantly she heard cries to cut the main sail.

The sailor looked as contrite as one could in the midst of a squall. “Sorry lass, bitch queen needs her offering!” 

And despite the pelting hail and whipping winds it was the word lass that made her flinch. 

‘Should have never gotten aboard a ship out of Neverwinter,’ she thought bitterly as she watched them tip her chest into the sea.

The contract she had taken in Baldur's Gate was an easy forgery job. She could've sat nice and safe in a room at the Elfsong scribbling away before meeting Rugan. She would've made a mint for doing hardly anything at all. But now her seals were gone and with it the contract.

Standing on the docks, Isolde weighed her options. It was alright. This was manageable. She still had the clay impressions of her fake seals in her pack. The sheep’s bladder she kept them in had protected them from any water damage from the storm. A half-way competent smith could recreate the seals from the pressings easily. But just how much would halfway decent cost her? More than she had left, it turned out. Most of her coin was now at the blacksmith's, and that was only the first half of the payment.

Her hand strayed time and again to where her insurance necklace would be, but she had pawned it. Pawned it for the same reason she had come to the city. The same reason she was flat broke. At least she could make that bastard buy her a drink. Blame him heartily for her misfortune. And if he smiled at her even once her fool heart would find the whole venture worthwhile.

“Sorry, miss, believe his caravan is on the road right now. Haven't seen him in a tenday.” The man behind the bar at the Elfsong shrugged.

It was just her rotten luck.

In weaker moments of her life she had considered leaving offerings to Beshaba at those little roadside shrines made of antlers and twigs. But no, fuck that deer-headed bitch. And fuck Umberlee too, while she was at it.

The barkeep looked apologetic, just as the sailor had, but that wasn't going to help her out in any way, shape or form.

She would need to find another job to take on. Isolde considered the other local contract she had ignored on account of the risk. There was nothing for it now. She leaned back in her stool and sighed. So long and low and frustrated that the man gave her another sympathetic look.

“Drink might help with that, miss.”

She opened her coin purse and eyed the few bits she had left.

“Give me the strongest thing you've got for two silvers.” She said sliding the coins across the table.

The man nodded and exchanged them for a pitcher of wine and a tall glass.

“If it's not a pressing issue,” he added as he poured the first glass full for her. “Could leave a letter with me if you like. He's in here every night when the caravan’s not on the road.”

Isolde perked up at that. “If you wouldn't mind.”

“Half the point of an inn is to have a place to send letters. I even mail some out if you've got a coin for the ship’s captain.”

Isolde almost took out her pen and ink right there, but then thought better of it. No sense trying to hastily scribble a note at the bar where some other patron would knock their elbows against hers and make the barman regret his offer.

Scooping up her glass and pitcher, pack slung over her shoulder, Isolde tipped her head in thanks and made for one of the alcoves at the far end of the taproom.

The Elfsong was much nicer than she had expected. The floors were worn but well-maintained, the drapes were not frayed and had minimal patching. She had been told more than once this place was a tourist trap, but when Rugan had called it his local she had presumed it to be something more akin to a dive bar. Had that been unkind of her? The Blackstaron and the Prow in Waterdeep had both been nicely kept inns, even if they had managed to get themselves kicked out of the first one.

She was broken from her train of thought when another patron collided into her, the wine from her glass sloshing over her hand.

“Sorry, love.” The man offered though he didn't even bother to meet her eyes as he and his date brushed past and grabbed the seat she had been eyeing. The date gave her a look that was half amusement, half pity, and Isolde muttered a curse under her breath as she stalked down to the next alcove.

Carefully she placed her wine down on the table, mindful of how it still undulated in its confines. With her clean hand she withdrew a rag from her pack and wet it with her waterskin, wiping clean the other before finally seating herself. 

As she unpacked her writing tools she wondered idly if this was the same seat Rugan liked to frequent. Would he have a regular seat? She should've asked the barman. No, on second thought that was a terrible idea. Isolde had seen and chosen to ignore the pitying look the man had given her when Rugan's name had slipped her lips. Didn't need to let him know how badly besotted she was, admitting it to herself was embarrassing enough.

She drained her first glass before setting pen to paper. This one was easy enough to write, and feeling a bit bold she applied a thin layer of vermillion to her lips as the ink dried. She marked the page with her lips and hoped it would make Rugan suitably unhappy about standing her up.

There was another letter she should write, though she wasn't too pleased about it. 

‘It might not be necessary.’ She tried to tell herself. 

She pulled out her leather bound notebook. It was a tiny thing, worn at the edges, about as wide and long as her hand but maybe two finger-span thick.

The contact information for the job had been hastily scribbled on one of the thick pages, just in case.

It had been Isolde's father who had taught her how to bind books, but it had been her mother who had taught her how to spot traps.

There were many things to take into account, but it came down to a few large considerations:

Was this culture known for booby-trapping tombs? Was this a place or person of importance?

An Imaskari noble would have a much more dangerous mausoleum than a Tharrian peasant.

Was there irregular wear on the ground that might suggest its builders walked a specific, safe path?

Pressure plates were a simple trap and thus effective trap. They stood the test of time better than more complex machinery.

Were there intricate patterns on the structure that could conceal glyphs?

Metal lasted long but magic lasted damn near indefinitely and could do far more damage.

One should be wary on any job, but if the answer to any of these questions was yes then doubly so.

Isolde had a similar list of tell-tale signs when it came to selecting jobs.

Was this client known to her network?

One tended to see the same familiar faces handling these operations. Sure muscle and labour would be locals, but the showrunner was usually one of two dozen folks who had the training to identify a site or the connections to fence the goods. Some characters were more trustworthy than others.

And no, the folks named here were not known to her or anyone she had asked.

Was the site near a city centre?

They oft times were—cities tended to grow on the bones of their forebears, like Luskan and Illusk. This meant more secrecy was necessary, but also less violence. Harder to hide a body and its eventual rot. Out in the wilds you didn’t even need to bury a corpse for it to never be found.

This job was definitely not near a city.

Was the pay reasonable?

Too high meant this was a con, you were lucky if you only came out empty-handed. Too low meant whoever was in charge didn’t even know what their goods were worth, if anything, and they didn’t know the running cost of a black market archaeologist.

Too low, far too low.

She had already known all this, but somehow had hoped the details might have changed since she last looked at the notebook. Isolde groaned and threw her head back against the wall of the booth. She was going to have to write the second letter.

Isolde poured and downed two more glasses of wine before she was sufficiently over her shame of having to ask Corra for money. If the forgery job was still around when she returned she’d pay Corra back two-fold.

Maybe she could just wait till Corra’s letter of credit came through, there were cheaper inns in the city, certainly. Gods, maybe a flophouse? But no, after hunting around the lower city and Norchapel it turned out Baldur’s Gate was almost as overpriced as Waterdeep.

‘Should’ve sent the letter and waited before paying for the tools.’ She thought dejectedly.

There ended up being roughly enough coin for a night or two in a flop house, some food for the road and a ride on a caravan heading west. So that was what she resolved to do.

Hopefully, stupidly, she looked for his face amongst the various caravans on the morning she made her way out of Baldur's Gate.

The wagons outside Basilisk Gate were packed end to end—or end to horse as it were. Some people pushed handcarts, perhaps to visit the nearby farms. She also saw oxen hitched to sturdy wagons loaded down with heavier goods. Merchants with lighter goods like the one she accompanied had horses to carry them along faster.

It was a decently nice carriage. Nothing fancy like the wooden conveyances that nobles used, but it had a sturdy canvas roof which was more than most.

The air by now was rank with the dung of a hundred beasts of burden, idling while their masters impatiently waited behind the traffic of a several dozen handcarts.

‘Just like Crimmor.’ She thought with an amused sort of wistfulness.

Isolde noticed then a group dressed in that familiar black and yellow, and her heart struggled to break free from the confines of her ribs. She leaned out the back of the wagon to get a better look. Though she squinted hard there was no one she was acquainted with. Just some red-head with clownish hair, though he had a familiar sort of chin.

“Don't want to be looking too long, dearie. Not a friendly bunch.” Warned the old woman across from her, not unkindly. The merchant’s mother as she understood it.

“Of course, my thanks.” Isolde bowed her head and sat back down on the wagon floor. 

They began moving at last, just as the dawn's early light was obscured by heavy soot coloured clouds. A wry smile twisted Isolde's lips.

“Something funny, dear?”

Isolde turned to meet the woman's gaze. “Just my luck, that’s all.”

[liverralonee]

stu macher in the alternate shots of scream (the ones that would’ve gotten the movie an nc-17) you will forever be famous

also what the fuck are those shoes man 🤨

[final-girl96]

WATTPAD SCREAM STORIES

Stu Macher

NC-17 (also on Ao3)

Psychopaths

Stalkers (Sequal to Psychopaths)

Revenge (Also on Ao3)

Randy Meeks

Beauty and the Geek (also on Ao3)

Geek Without His Beauty (Also on Ao3)

Billy Loomis

Scream: Woodsboro Massacre

Scream: Windsor Massacre

Scream: Hollywood Horrors

Other Scream Stories (co-written)

What If...We Don't (also on Ao3) [Stu x Reader, Randy x OC]

What If: Aftermath (This is the sequel to What If...We Don't it is on my friend's Wattpad scarlettwitch322)

Road Trip: Camp Crystal Lake (Friday The 13th/Scream) [Stu x Reader, Randy x OC, Billy x OC]

My friends wattpad

[rorywritesjunk]

Let’s be one another’s present tense

Buggy ‘rescues’ you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea.

Rating: R-ish for now. Warning: Mentions of s-icide (nothing actually happens at all), holding one's breath, thoughts of drowning. Reader expects the worst from Buggy nearing the end of the fic. Buggy is a bit of a shit in this chapter but in his normal shitty way. Swearing. A/N: This has been sitting in my head as I worked it out for an Anon’s request. I have been really intrigued by this and wanted it to be just right. Also, it gave me the chance to ask my circus obsessed friend about different routines and we bounced some ideas off each other. This is also a touch different than other things I’ve written, which is why I’ve been taking so long to work on it and get it posted. Enjoy!

Title comes from “Crater Lake” by Lady Lamb.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 (NC-17) + Chapter 16 (NC-17) + Chapter 17 TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @neuvilleteismybby @fluffybunnyu @sinning-23 @the-angriest-angel (Imma just use this gif for the story because I really like it)

Chapter 2

One of his freaks retrieved you and put you in a cage. An actual bird cage. You were actually sitting in it for hours, wondering what was going to happen next. Were you going to die there or would someone take pity? Your hands were no longer bound at least but your head was hurting and you wanted something to eat and drink. 

Someone showed up when you were starting to get desperate enough to scream for help. You had opened your mouth to start when Buggy came back in. It was hard to tell if his nose was swollen or not, but you didn’t want to comment. You glared at him as he pulled a chair over in front of the cage and sat back. He brought a cup and plate of food with him; your mouth watered at the sight. You needed something to eat and you were parched. He smiled at you as he picked up some grapes and held them up for you.

“Hungry?” He asked and you nodded. He popped one in his mouth and winked at you. 

“You’re an ass!” You snapped. “What do you even want with me?”

“I think you’re cute.” He chuckled as he helped himself to a slice of banana. “But you have to earn your keep if you want to eat, y’know. I can’t just go feeding you and expect nothing in return.”

You glared at him as he ate another bit of banana. Your stomach was growling, you were willing to chew through the bars to get to him, but you were present when he made his last deal so maybe this was how it had to be: if he wanted something from you you’d have to make some kind of deal. 

“What do you want from me then?” You asked, your eyes never leaving the plate of food. “I… I’ll do whatever you want.”

There was a look on his face for a millisecond, but you saw something there that you had seen before on the faces of men when told that, but the clown just grinned at you as he held a single grape out to you. You reached through the bars to grab it but he held it just out of reach.

“What kind of talents do you have?” He asked. “Sword swallowing? Juggling? Can you balance on a ball while playing an instrument?”

You stared at him as you stretched your arm out. He really was serious about you being a performer, but you had no talents. You couldn’t do anything he just listed, and you were pretty sure there wasn’t anything else you could do. 

“God, just give me the fucking grape!” You snapped at him. “Just use me as target practice for all I care, but let me eat something!”

Buggy finally gave you the grape and grinned, leaning back in his seat. “Language, cupcake, language! I never knew a lady to have such a mouth.”

You popped the grape into your mouth as you glared at him. He held the plate up to you and you reached for it, but he pulled it back from you. What else did he want? You had no skills, nothing. You could barely cook, sew, anything when you were wed to your husband, so what did this clown expect from you? The only reason you had been wed to the old man was because he wanted it to happen, you had no say in the matter, and two years of absolute hell landed you in a bird cage being baited by a pirate.

“No skills at all, really?” He asked. You stared at the plate of food before looking at him. There was maybe one skill you had, but it wasn’t useful for the circus.

“I can swim.” You said as you reached once more for the plate. “I… I can hold my breath a long time.” He let you grab the plate and you pulled it back to you, devouring the pieces of cut up fruit. “Parents had a fishing business. I learned how to dive and hold my breath to collect things from the bottom. Probably the only thing I’m good at.” You sighed heavily and closed your eyes, feeling content as you ate. This was one of the best meals you ever had, you decided. “I mean, not much good when I’m on land.”

Buggy’s eyes lit up and he grinned. 

“We have a tank.”

~

You refused the bikini you were offered. It barely covered anything and currently you weren’t keen to show your body off to anyone. Your face was one thing, but the time with your ex was hell and there were still fresh bruises on your body that you didn’t want on display. Another performer tried a different suit, one that covered more of your body, but you still refused. The Captain was getting frustrated by you already.

“Then go in there in your clothes if you’re going to be such a diva!” He snapped at you when you refused the third option: mermaid fins and a shell bikini top. You glared at him as the tank was filled with water and one of the freaks propped a ladder up to it.

“You want me in the tank then you’ll get me in there under my conditions, you asshole!” You snapped back. The crew collectively gasped; no one spoke to their Captain like that and lived. Buggy stomped over to you and you took an immediate step back, hands up as you looked away, ready for the hit. Instead, he just stood there and clenched his fists, taking a deep breath as he stomped his foot and pointed at the ladder.

“Get in there.” He ordered. “And show us what you can do.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, exhaling slowly as you walked over to the ladder. Maybe you could drown yourself in the tank. He didn’t know how long you could hold your breath for, only you did. You could push yourself past your limit, forget to come up, let him be haunted by your last moments.

You climbed to the top of the tank and reached in, letting your fingers dip into the cold water. One of the freaks sat at the top, holding a hand out to you and helping you get into the tank. You took a deep breath before sinking into the water; you turned in the tank to face Buggy, tapping on the glass to get his attention. He was still glaring at you, not appreciating being called an asshole just minutes before. You smirked at him as a few air bubbles escaped. One of the freaks pulled out a watch to time you.

Thirty seconds passed. Buggy didn’t look impressed. 

45 seconds and he still looked bored.

A minute and 10 seconds and Buggy looked over at the freak timing you. 

A minute and 45 seconds and he looked a little intrigued.

The two minute mark had him looking over at the freak again while you gave him a little wave. 

Two and a half minutes and Buggy looked a little unsure if you were going to drown or not.

Three minutes and you winked at him. Maybe this was it.  He didn’t know how long you could do this for.

Three minutes and thirty seconds and your lungs were starting to burn just a bit. You normally didn’t push it past three minutes. 

And at four minutes it was getting harder to do it. Four minutes and ten seconds felt like an eternity. When it reached four minutes and twenty seconds, someone grabbed you by the back of the dress and pulled you to the surface. You gasped for air as you reached for the edge of the tank for support. The freaks cheered, whether for how long you held your breath or for not drowning, you didn’t know. The freak helped you out of the tank and passed you down to others that were waiting, some had towels that they were wrapping you in. No use having you get sick from your audition.

“Did you try to drown yourself to impress me or something?” Buggy demanded as one of the freaks dried your hair for you. “God, give you one act to audition for and you overdo it. Fucking diva.” 

“Sorry I didn’t drown.” Your voice was muffled by the towel that was now over your face. They were overdoing it just a bit with helping you. “I’ll try harder next time.”

“Shut up about that!” Buggy snapped, but there was no bite to it. There was a note of worry, concern even. Did he think you were going to drown? “You got the gig, so I expect you to have a costume for your act when we perform next, got it?!” He stomped his foot and pointed at you. “Don’t pull a stunt like that again.”

You were a little surprised to hear the concern in his voice. He glared at you before stomping out of the tent, barking orders at the freaks to continue their routines while you were suddenly left alone, all hands gone that had been touching you just seconds before. You were covered in damp towels and you weren’t sure where to go or what to do. 

~

Someone took pity on you and led you to one of the back rooms where everyone got ready. They found a top and pants that fit you, something dry at least, and you were able to duck behind a privacy screen to change while they waited. You didn’t know what to expect next. Were you somehow part of this crew now? Did you have freedom to roam? What if you just… left? But where would you go? Your family wouldn’t take you back because it would put them in danger of your ex finding and retrieving you. Was there somewhere else you could go to?

Joining the circus, however… if it meant you had a roof over your head and food in your belly, maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought. Buggy was a little bit of a loose cannon, you weren’t sure what to think about him, and you didn’t appreciate him calling you a diva, but he hadn’t really laid a hand on you in any form of violence. You were the one to inflict pain on him when you headbutted him earlier, and you wondered if you should apologize to him for that.

Once you were dressed you stepped out from behind the screen. The freak was still waiting, looking at his nails in the light, looking for any dirt or scuffs. You cleared your throat and he looked up.

“I’m to bring you to Captain Buggy.” He told you. 

“Why?” You asked, keeping some distance from him. “What does he want from me now?”

“He didn’t say.” 

You didn’t like his answer. You didn’t want to meet with the captain. Your hair was still damp, you were cold, and you wanted more food. The freak looked at you expectantly, head jerking toward the door as though he expected you to follow now. What could you do? Nothing, so you sighed and nodded, following him as he led you out of the room and to another. When you stepped in you realized it was the one Buggy had found you in initially. He was sitting on the bed, taking his boots off. This must be his bedroom and you felt panic grip you. You grabbed the freak’s arm as he turned to leave.

“Don’t leave me here, please.” You begged. The freak just shrugged and left you in the room, shutting the door behind you. Was this it? Were you finally going to meet your end at the hands of this captain? You were so conflicted, you didn’t want to be here but you… didn’t want to die yet. You weren’t ready. That little stunt with the tank, where you wanted to drown, it wasn’t true. You weren’t ready to die but you’d sure as hell fight the captain if you needed to.

“Will you relax?” Buggy grumbled as he took his bandana off, shaking out his hair as it fell loose down his shoulders and back. “I have to find a place for you to sleep and the crews’ quarters are all full, so I’m going to get you a cot for my room.” He glanced over at you, noticing how you were frozen where you stood. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you, so fucking calm down.”

You stared at him for a moment before glaring at him. “You… you invite me to join and then you don’t even have room for me?! What was the point of all this?!”

“The point?” Buggy shot back. “The point was to get you out of that miserable situation you were in! Unless you liked being that old man’s punching bag? Did you? Because I can drop you back there if you want.” He paused for a moment as he looked at you, now smirking. “Oh, wait, you can’t. I destroyed his home with him in it. Oops.”

“Wait, what?”

“I don’t like abusive assholes like him.” Buggy told you as he stood up. “But if you really want to leave, then go. I don’t really care.”

You were trying to process what he just said to you. He blew up the house? With your ex still inside? If Buggy did that with little remorse, what else was he capable of? 

Then again, where would you go? You didn’t want to return to your family. You… you wanted a change and this clown was offering it to you if you performed in his circus. Maybe it would be worthwhile in the end.

“I’ll… stay.” You mumbled. “Thank you. I’ll take the cot.”

“Good.” Buggy replied. “I hope you aren’t a light sleeper because I’ve been told I snore.”

[siriusleee]

ii. sage green

Zombie Apocalypse AU | SIMON RILEY x f!READER

↳ SUMMARY: The world is trying to knit itself back together after fracturing apart. You're trying to put yourself back together with it; Simon Riley is just trying to stay alive. ↳ WORD COUNT: 2.5K ↳ TAGS: mentions of cannibalism, mentions of shooting things, mentions of dying. smut to come. canon typical violence to come. additional tags to come as the story progresses. female reader. no mentions of "your name". reader is given a nickname later on. nc-17. ↳ AUTHOR'S NOTE: I want to desperately thank @gazs-blue-hat, @lethargicluv, and @victoria-writes-sometimes for proofreading this for me when I was in an exhaustion field brain melt. If you'd like to help wake me up, my Ko-Fi is always open for commissions and donations. ↳ TAG LIST: There will not be a tag list for this story, as Tumblr has issues with letting me tag people. To get notifications of updates, please subscribe on AO3 or turn on notifications for my blog.

additional chapters | ao3

At first, you think it’s the sun warming the attic enough to be stifling, to wake you up from the heat pulling the air from the room. 

But your nose catches up with the rest of your brain when the acrid smell of fire catches your senses. You’re awake in an instant, shooting up from your spot. Blind panic overtakes you first; your hands scrambling in the darkness for something . Instinct has you reaching out for a fire extinguisher, for a way out of the room, fingers scrambling against the splintery wood before the rest of you catches up with the situation. It takes almost a second too long before your brain finally processes that there is no fire extinguisher, nothing to do but try to escape.

You scramble to tug your boots on, shoving your thermal blanket into your pack at the same time. Slinging it across your back, you fumble for your bow and arrow pouch; your fingers pull against the rope you’d tied to keep the attic door shut, and in the darkness, you can’t undo it. 

The blind panic starts to rage inside of you. Smoke is filtering faster through the cracks in the flooring, obscuring what little you could already see in the moonlight filtering in through the little attic window. 

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, repeating it louder as your fingers slip against the rope. “Fuck.”

When the hint of flames shows themself at the edges of the attic door, you abandon the attempts to pull the rope off. You pick your way across the attic, lungs screaming as the oxygen is pulled into the fire. The little window overlooking the back garden shatters easily under the weight of your bow slamming into it. But as you watch the glass shards tumble onto the roof, you know that even if you could slice yourself to bits and not attract the Biters, you would never fit through the window. Gulping down the fresh air, you try to hold it in your lungs as long as possible before you’re forced to turn back to the rest of the smoke-filled attic.

Your feet stumble against what you can’t see - you have to pull the rope away from the door. The only other option is to -

The floor falls from beneath your feet. Rotted drywall and insulation rain down with you; your back slams into something solid, a sharp pain shooting through your spine and rib cage. The blaze from the hallway illuminates the sage walls; as you try to catch your breath around the lack of oxygen and the pain spitting through you, you realize that you’ve crashed into the empty nursery.

From the first floor, just loud enough to be heard over the fire, the groans of the Biters come to you around the ringing in your ear. Struggling to breathe around the smoke and moldy insulation that fill your mouth, you scramble to your feet. The taste of iron coats your mouth; through the dirty window, you see a group of Biters congregating on the front porch of the little house.

Whatever human instinct has forced you to survive these past 5 years takes over; you push through the half broken bedroom door and stumble directly into a Biter. 

There was a saying - it slams into your brain as you watch the burning mass roll towards you - that whenever soldiers go to war and their adrenaline starts to pump, explosions turn into little “poofs” and gunshots no more than a “pop.” You wonder if it was the adrenaline that turned the Biter’s unearthly wailing into a soft whisper as it flails on the landing, hand reaching for your ankle. 

Without thinking, you kick out; the flames bite at your boots, at the skin that shows above the leather. The bottom landing is ablaze, the floor beneath you buckles; the house groans with the weight of the fire and the Biters groan and wail in hunger. Any minute the entire place is going to crumble down into a pile of burning bodies and dust and take you with it.

You stumble past the burning Biter, shoving it away with the end of your bow so that it falls down the steps. Feet heavy and lungs screaming from the lack of oxygen, you punch your way into the other bedroom. Without thinking, you throw yourself through the half open window.

The ground races up to meet you; you try to catch your feet beneath you, but you collapse into darkness instead.

The ringing in your ears is thunderous; the hands that pull at you try to rip you apart. In the darkness, you feel yourself slam into something hard and cold, feel hands slap at the fabric covering your legs. You try to lift yourself, to swing at the force but your body won’t do what your brain is telling you and you wonder if you’ve already been bitten and this eternal blackness is just the beginning of the end.

The ground pulls from underneath you and vaguely you realize that you’re moving. The growling of an ATV cuts through the darkness you’re hovering in along with the feeling of cold metal biting into your back. Your sight is the last sense to come - the sun trying to break through the horizon just barely illuminates the hulking figure driving the ATV - fuzzy at first and then coming into sharp focus. 

You thrash out, becoming keenly aware of ropes wrapped around your ankles and feet. You teeter dangerously on the back of the ATV as you roll. In the corner of your eye, you can see the entire village ablaze, the howls of the Biters nearly drowned out by the crackling of the flames. One large hand reaches back to grip the front of your shirt and pulls you back before you can fall off. Too scared to fall off of the back, you lay still.

Like a deer, dressed and ready for slaughter, you ride on the back of the ATV until the flames of the village are gone, and the forest swallows the two of you up. Heart in your throat, you wonder if finally, the body snatchers had gotten to you.

You struggle against the rope binding your hands together. If you can get your hands free, you can fight against him - you’d rather be subject to the Biters, to starvation, than end up the dinner of a savage from the woods. 

But the struggle is for nothing: there’s a blinding pain crawling up your legs, and you’re distinctively aware of a pain in your side that you think might be a broken rib. The inside of your mouth and throat are covered in the thick taste of ash and burning Biter and iron. Your soot lined lungs can barely pull in a breath - there’s just not enough strength for you to break free. 

The sound of the ATV changes to a lower purr and the vehicle jerks as the driver downshifts. You nearly tumble off the back, but your kidnapper’s hand reaches back around and grips your shirt again.

He doesn’t let you go until the ATV cruises to a stop beside a felled tree, propped up against a second fallen tree, ivy and moss trailing down from where the two meet. When he shifts in his seat to turn the ATV off, you see your bow and pack on the front of the ATV behind a dusty red gas canister and a rifle. 

You can’t tell if it’s the angle you’re laying at or if the guy is just huge; there’s not a chance in hell you can fight him off - especially not with the pain that’s radiating through you as the adrenaline wears off. 

But it kickstarts again when he turns to you - his eyes are dark in the shadows cast by his mask. A graying skull stares down at you, and you know he’s going to take you to a body farm, that you are fodder beneath his gaze. 

He reaches towards you; you jerk back, heart in your throat. The little animalistic part of your brain that’s kept you alive for so many years takes over; you thrash away from him, rolling off of the ATV and slamming into the ground. Your teeth clack, pinching your tongue in between, and fresh blood blooms in your mouth. 

“Stop it,” he growls out, peering at you over the edge of the ATV, annoyance written into the wrinkles around his eyes. 

You wiggle away from him in the dirt, but this time you don’t escape his hands as he grips the front of your filthy shirt and hauls you upright. 

You don’t know what to do, so you spit on him. Saliva and blood spray across his faded black jacket; he doesn’t let you go, and doesn’t even seem phased by your actions. Instead, he drops you down onto your feet; you teeter, struggling to stand with the rope wrapped around your ankles; he keeps one steady hand on your elbow to keep you from falling.

“That make you feel better?” He asks, voice rough and low. You keep your mouth shut; if he’s going to take you to a body farm, he’s not going to get you to talk or beg. 

“What were you doing there?”

The silence stretches through the forest; the man breathes heavy through his nose, the sound muffled by the black fabric and skull. This close you can’t tell if it’s real or fake, but you don’t want to find out. 

“Are you one of them?”

“One of who?” The question escapes you before you can stop it. But once it’s gone, you realize the ball is in his court - the only bit of power you had was your silence, and you gave it away.

“Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.” 

You chew on the possibilities, but you have to admit that if you don’t answer he may just leave you tied up here for the Biters to find. 

“I’m moving north, to where it’s too cold for them during the winter.”

It’s not a good enough answer; he squeezes your elbow. Beneath his fingers, the joints rub together, and you can’t help the yelp you let out.

“I was staying the night there! My group has stayed there for years on our way through.”

“Where’s the rest of your group?”

It’s iron and pennies to say it.

“They’re all gone; I’ve been on my own for the past year.”

He must believe something written on your face because his grip on your elbow loosens. Slowly, he reaches down to tug on the ropes binding your ankles and then your wrists until they fall loose. He keeps one hand on you as he drags you over to the ATV. 

“You’re not going to let me go?” Your voice rises in pitch with each word.

“Dunno who you might run back to.” 

He shoves your pack in your arms. Beneath it is another pack, this one dark black and dusty. He slings it onto himself, along with your bow and arrow carrier. The rifle also comes off of the ATV and over his other shoulder. He never lets go of the grip on your arm, pulling you around painfully as he moves.

“Go move the ivy out of the way,” he says, shoving you towards the two fallen trees. You eye the rifle on his back - it would drop you before you could get ten feet. So you follow his directions, pulling back the ivy. Behind it is a cut out in the hill, a dark pit, and for a moment you think he’s going to push you in. But then, without a sign of a struggle, he pushes the ATV into the hole and you realize it’s a hiding spot. 

He pushes you out of the way, rearranging the plant life until it again looks like just two trees toppled onto each other. With a smooth, practiced motion, the rifle slides into his hands, and he gestures toward the open forest with it.

“Start walking.”

You don’t know how far the two of you walk; the cold starts to seep through the thinning material of your boots, and with each step the burns and bruises you acquired during the house fire grow more painful - the sharp pinch in your rib makes it hard to breath, but you don’t want to show a sign of weakness. If he thinks you’re not eatable, he might just shoot you where you stand. 

But you know that if your feet are beneath you, you have a chance of running free.

The horizon grows gray with the threat of snow; some flurries that must have fallen in the nighttime cling to the highest branches of the tree. It isn’t until your feet are numb, and you can’t feel your pinky toes that you finally ask the question that’s been nagging at you for hours. 

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

“You can just slaughter me now if you think I’m going to let you take me to that farm.”

His footsteps don’t falter behind you, but when he speaks you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“I’m not going to eat you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The trees start to grow thicker around the two of you, the snow growing heavier on the limbs until finally, it starts to dust the ground. Your whole body is numb at this point, and whatever has been keeping you together is starting to fall apart. Your tongue is dry and fuzzy, stomach empty. You think for a second that he might be trying to walk you to death, that he might find some sort of pleasure in watching you break down as you walk.

The rough edges of a cabin peek out at you from the trees and snow. The barrel of his rifle digs into your back, pushing you towards the cabin. You stumble over your boots, nearly tripping from the weight of your pack and empty stomach. Your kidnapper herds you towards the door, pushing you out of the way to unlock it with a key tucked beneath his jacket until he can shove you inside.

Inside it’s dark and dusty; your eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness when the door finally shuts behind you, trapping you in the place with your kidnapper. A thread of fear tries to go through you at the thought of what he might be doing to you in the dark, but you’re too exhausted for your heart to beat faster. 

He leaves you standing there to fumble with something in front of you. A moment later his face is illuminated by an oil lamp blazing to life. It illuminates just enough of the room that you can see a small fireplace and little couch on the opposite sides and a little kitchenette you’re standing in. 

You stand awkwardly as he shuffles around the room, shrugging his pack off, lighting another oil lamp, but never dropping his rifle.

He turns towards you, gun held loosely in his hand and studies you over the top of his mask.

“What’s your name?”

[beargrisly]

GRIMMULQUI FIC RECS

Reawakened by TYBW, a long-time GrimmUlqui shipper stumbles out of its crypt in search of sustenance. The morsels it uncovers are too delicious not to share…

(The descriptions below are my own silly thoughts and don’t represent the authors in any way. In addition to the ratings, please also mind the authors' notes, tags and warnings!)

Apples by goldensprite (T)

Jaded, no-fucks-left-to-give Grimmjow finds born again Ulquiorra in the Soul Society. He’s lost his memories… but has gained the power of uwu. I was sooo thrilled to have stumbled upon this lovely fic.

Attrition by tragakes (lejf) (E)

GrimmUlqui fan or not, this fic deserves much love for the gorgeous writing and the brilliant take on Ulquiorra's psyche.

Conquest / Bequest by showmaster64x (E)

THE GRIMMULQUI SERIES OF ALL TIME.

Dead in Love by CrunchySalad (E)

This fic serves one trippy scene after another til it all comes together in a glorious oh shit moment. I LOVE the worldbuilding and the ingenuity of this piece.

Eye Can See You by chibi_zoe (E)

Ulquiorra finds creative uses for the gifts his momma Lord Aizen gave him. *Grimmjow voice* Damn Ulqui! Who’s a nasty thotty lil hollow?

Human Souls by caraminez (E)

An absolutely beautiful fic about love and loss. It hurted me bad but was so worth the ugly crying. If only I could re-live the magic of reading this for the first time...

After The Aftermath by Methoxyethane (T)

Aizenomics goes to shit and the Espada need new jobs. Grimmjow takes on the world's oldest profession while Ulquiorra attempts to Housewife. I was cackling and snorting at every other sentence.

love is just a bloodsport by elektra (M)

This fic is just AMAZING. Ulquiorra survives the battle with Ichigo without turning into pixie dust, but has lost all purpose. The setting is deliciously bleak and Grimmjow's voice is fantastic. 

Love Potion by MissMonie (T)

Behold the GrimmUlqui treasure trove that is MissMonie’s profile, where you'll find everything from demon summons to coffee shops. This one's an adorable Valentine's Day fic in which Grimmjow and Ulquiorra are no match for a meddling love god.

Scream for Me by TextBookDreams (M)

Innocent lives are endangered when two Espadas try to suppress their feelings for each other. It’s funny, it's sexy, and it's GrimmUlqui. Mwah!

Take a Slice by hollowhiyori (T)

Two vampires kickin’ it in 90s Santa Monica. The vibes are on another level, and I thought Grimmjow and Ulquiorra had such a special and magnetic chemistry in this one.

The Beautiful Game by SunAndMoonFanfictions (M)

One for the footie fans (and any GrimmUlqui fan really). This is a very well-researched and immersive fic with many heartfelt moments. One particular scene of Grimmjow and Ulquiorra out shopping in a later chapter makes me giggle so hard. 

This Time Around by Goldberry (NC-17)

Grimmjow and Ulquiorra learn first hand what it means to be human. This fic is… so precious to me. It will rip you up with the feels then tenderly make you whole again. *cradles to chest*

***

If anyone has fics to share, or just wants to scream about GrimmUlqui, PLEASE DO 🥰

[sugarwithtea]

hiiiiii i would like to request 8 & 12 from the angst list (i'm sorry!) and you can pick whatever ship your heart desires congrats on your milestone bby!

deluded | kth

you walk into your home, only to find your boyfriend wrapped up in the arms of someone else, on your own bed, causing you to realize how you were being deluded into believing the truth of your relationship.

pairing : taehyung x reader

rating / genre : nc-17 // angst, infidelity au

word count : 1.4k

warnings : cheating, swearing, crying, gaslighting for a second but oc is strong 💪🏻

note : thankyou jess!! i am so late lol but i loved the idea! hope you like it! also, it's unedited 😭 prompt — “You broke me! You ruined everything we had and- for what?” & “You really were the worst thing to ever happen to me. I mean that.” from this list

masterlist

The sky is overcast with clouds, ready to pour anytime now. Just like you, it's on the verge of tears.

"I, I can explain–"

"What?" you spit out, cutting him off.

It's so funny, that after just a two week long business trip, you return home– to surprise your boyfriend, but are met with him woven in your silk sheets, pleasuring someone else. It's laughable, how blind you have been. Obviously this wouldn't have been his first time, right? Because the girl looked so familiar.

How could you not recognise your own coworker, whom you had almost called your best friend?

"What are you going to explain? That it was a mistake?" your voice gets louder as you drop your bag on the floor and walk towards him, "Was it a mistake, hm, Taehyung? Were you not fucking her on my bed?"

You had twisted the lock open, faint noises greeting you right at the threshold of your home. That very moment had you raising your walls and walking cautiously. It was in plain sight– the door wasn't shut closed, infact open, because of course there was no intruder expected.

You hadn't dropped your bag, or screamed, or even ran away. You had simply stood there and cleared your throat, because apparently, their sounds were too loud to register the clicking of the lock or the steps you had taken into your broken relationship, your broken heart.

Taehyung doesn't give you an answer, his tan torso littered with marks– marks that weren't made by your lips, but by someone else's. His head hangs low, and you have this sudden urge to slap him, to grab his hair and make him look at you, look at the damage he has done.

"Are you going to speak?" your voice booms around the apartment – no longer your home. No, it lost that privilege the moment your boyfriend had defiled it by even thinking of going back on you. The sound waves echo off the walls, seeping back into your skin, and filling your veins with a new found energy.

The energy to get the fuck away from this man.

His eyes meet yours as he raises his head, but still, his mouth is zipped. There's a glint in his caramel eyes, one that threatens to spill out. You could drown in them, lose yourself in his eyes, but the red marks blooming to a darker shade are way too evident for you to step wrong. You can't risk falling again.

You can't risk being deluded again.

Your steps are quick as you walk towards him. He looks up, ready to anticipate anything and everything from you, but you step around him and head to your bedroom. Not your– the bedroom. Your face automatically forms a grimace as soon as you step into it, throwing your closet open and grabbing all the clothes and belongings you find first, stuffing them in a small suitcase which you had grabbed from the side. You'll come later for other things. Right now you just need to get out.

Thunder rumbles outside of the window, and your head snaps towards the direction, albeit not able to see the window, but still able to feel the misery, the feeling of the loud rumble all too well. You don't even know what you are feeling. It's like you have went numb, just taking the steps your brain tells you to take, so you don't wake up in a worse state of misery. You want to cry, you want to shout, you want to throw your precious vase at his head– but you can't get yourself to do that, or anything for that matter. Your heart has broken and already shrunk into nothingness, so void of feelings that you feel … nothing.

You fumble for your phone, to ask your best friend Momo if you can crash at her place, and as soon as you unlock it, Taehyung's hand touches your arm, making you freeze.

"Y/N, please. Don't." his voice wavers and you wanna ask him, why? Climbing on the top of the tallest building, you wanna shout at him, that why did he do that? Were you that inefficient? Were you that unlovable? Were you that insignificant for him that he had been so quick to find solace in someone else's arms, all while you were still there and trying?

You take a deep breath, none of your turmoil reflecting in your well leveled voice,

"Please don't say that. I am so sorry."

“You broke me, Taehyung. You ruined everything we had and– for what?” you don't break, no. That would be weak. So what if it's almost four years of love vanishing into nothingness, so what if your heart will now always have a hole shaped like his form. So what? You can definitely live with it, survive the rest of your life, very well, of course.

Now this, irks you.

"A sorry won't make you go back in the past and change your fucking mind. So keep this act to yourself, and save the words for the girl who just ran out of here," you grab your bag and rush out of the bedroom, hints of tears lining your eyelids, before you speak again, "That is, if she is the one you are going to now."

He steps in front of you, blocking the main door from your view.

"I wasn't sleeping with multiple people."

"Doesnt make me feel any better, you asshole." Deep breaths, that's what you tell yourself. You really need to save your energy, especially if you have to drive all the way to your friend's house with a broken heart in a broken weather.

"I didn't mean it tha-"

"Save it." you sniffle, and step around him, yet again. Still better than the way he had stepped all over your heart, your love and your devotion. You are still, and will always be better than him.

Always.

"Save it for when I come back here to grab the rest of my things, Taehyung. Because after a five hour flight, I don't have the energy left to fight you." you grab your keys and don't look back at him.

"So you are just letting go this easily? It's like you aren't even affected by this." you pause as his tone suddenly, changes? What the actual fuck? Does he think you are the one to be blamed here? Does he know how he has ruined any and every thing for you, atleast in the foreseeable future? This has to be the most ridiculous thing he has ever said.

You let out a snort, "You are going lower than I ever expected you to."

It's like those words of yours bring him back to his senses (if there were any left) and he pleads, "No, sorry. I am- I didn't mean to say that."

"You never mean anything. Did you mean it when you said you loved me?" you unlock the door and swing it open, not even bothering to listen to him. One of your legs is already out of the apartment when he speaks again.

"Yes, yes I did. I did mean it, please." At this point, it's starting to get annoying. This man has nothing else to say except please? No explanations, no … nothing? It's like he is stuck on that one key while typing, and it prints the same letter without any breaks. Like he has speared your heart with a knife and is not able to pull it out, so is just twisting it more, trying.

You completely step out of the apartment, your suitcase in tow– and this time, he doesn't stop you. You laugh low. Even he is tired of the constant forward and backward game, tired of acting as if he was in that game in the first place, as if he cares for you anymore.

It's when you turn around to look at him, and your old home for the last time that you say the thing which has been haunting you, and will live in the nooks and crevices of your hollow heart forever.

“You really were the worst thing to ever happen to me. I mean that.”

The first tear falls down in tandem with the first raindrop landing on your cheek as you step in the parking lot, the sky hiding your misery with its own.

— hii. i wrote this so quick at night. I'll definitely go over it in the morning again lol. but in the meantime, i like it. 😉

🧸 please let me know what you think of this by reblogs, comments and asks, as feedback is highly appreciated as always. 🤍 (also, no taglist for requests)

© sugarwithtea 2023. do not repost.