#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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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[hueseok]

GOOD GRACES ( index. )

kim seokjin doesn’t believe in luck. he’s someone who knows that in order to have good things coming your way, you have to work damn hard for it. however, that might not be the case when it comes to bad luck, because after a video of him goes viral wherein it looks like he’s screaming at someone’s grandma, he begins thinking maybe luck does exist—and it just so happens that he’s now being subjected to a lot of unluckiness.

he’s being cancelled. his career is getting destroyed. his manager is forcing him to take a hiatus. and on top of that, as if things could not get worse, the only hope he has on redeeming everything he worked hard on depends on you, the director’s daughter of the theater show that could propel him back to where he used to be.

that should have been a piece of cake. if only you weren’t his ex who he dumped via phone call and got threatened by to never show his face to ever again...

pairing: seokjin x reader

rating: NC-17

content: fluff, light angst, humor, exes to enemies to friends to lovers au | ft. theater actor!seokjin + himbo energy!seokjin lmao, podcaster!reader + nepo baby!reader

gen. warning/s: lots of swearing | mature themes | might contain implicit sexual content in future chapters!

THE PARTS: ( 01 / 10. )

✧ EPISODE 01. there are worse things i could do !

✧ EPISODE 02

✧ EPISODE 03

✧ EPISODE 04

✧ EPISODE 05

✧ EPISODE 06

✧ EPISODE 07

✧ EPISODE 08

✧ EPISODE 09

✧ EPISODE 10

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ i really like you — carly rae jepsen ♫ good graces — sabrina carpenter ♫ don’t go breaking my heart — elton john, kiki dee

TAGLIST STATUS: open! send an ask or reply to this post ♡

note. this drabble series is product of this idea. i love only murders in the building and i think that was mostly the inspiration in coming up with this fic! updates will be sporadic (if you’re familiar with me, you might have already expected this lmao), so no schedules whatsoever hehe,, i will however try to update as often and as quick as i can ♡

[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.

[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

[bvidzsoo]

Your worst mistake...

ᨒ District 4 ✧ one of Panem's wealthiest districts, plays an essential role in bringing the bounty of the sea, victors: Mags Flanagan, Annie Cresta, Finnick Odair

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: stylist!Choi San x victor!female reader

ᨒ Warning: gore, descriptions of murder, beheading (sort of, mostly implied), violence, blood, weapon use, injuries, ptsd, slightly suggestive, co-dependency, probably unhealthy attachments, slight weight shaming (don't do that!) ᨒ Word count: 25.7k ᨒ Rating: mature, nc-17 ᨒ Genre: Hunger Games!au; forbidden love!au, set before Katniss and Peeta became victors ᨒ Summary: Your innocence was stripped the day you were reaped for the 73rd Hunger Games. The life you had known, and the joy of living well were all just forgotten aspirations. The Games were cruel and terrifying, and they changed anyone who emerged as a victor, who took the crown and returned to the living. And was all that pain, terror, and haunting memories worth it? Was it worth living a life as a monster? Perhaps, yes, it was, if a man was determined enough to show you what tenderness and love meant, that to him you had never changed. But that man was Choi San, a stylist from the Capitol, another gem adored by the masses, so, could he really love you?

A/N: And.it's.here! Hello, my lovelies, happy weekend, I hope you can unwind with this little story. ^^ It's a happy end, that I can promise (or is it haha, jk don't worry). This became so long that I thought it would never end, it really tried to kick my ass. You don't exactly have to read Mingi's part first, but I'm just letting you know it exists and it happens before whatever goes down in this story, some new dynamics are introduced through this story that you don't get to see in his :)). Let me know if I have to add anything else into the warnings and pls take them seriously, our MC is a victor and there are sequences where she's in the games, so yes, there's murder and blood and stuff, although I don't think I made them too descriptive, stay mindful still. Also! The MC is eighteen and San in his early twenties, just wanted to clear that up. I hope you enjoy and lmk what you thought, I love hearing your thoughts! I can't wait to write Yunho's part, that one is going to be a handful omg hihi divider

            Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was cold, the surface beneath sturdy and slippery almost, my body pressing heavily into it. Nothing made sense, I couldn’t open my eyes, I couldn’t call out for help, and it felt like I was endlessly falling into the void. My lips parted but apart from a pained whine nothing managed to come past, vocal cords heavy and aching from the lack of hydration, from having screamed too loud and too much. It was hard to breathe, something was pressing down against my chest, heavy and cold to the point my heart started pumping blood faster, my eyelids fighting against my brain as I tried to open them.

            Beep. Beep. Beep.

The burn in my left calf was excruciating, I tried to hold onto something, fingers flexing, trying to reach for anything to no avail. My head was thumping painfully and my nostrils stung from the sanitised air I was breathing in, mouth parting when a violent cough shook my body, forcing me to turn onto my right side. Feeling nothing underneath me all of a sudden, my eyes flew open with a loud gasp, fingers curling around the edge of the surface I was lying on. Cold, hard, metallic tables were all around me, the white lights blinding as they made my head ache more violently.

            Beep. Beep. Beep.

Another harsh cough shook my body and I started trembling as I realized just how cold I was, the gown I was wearing was thin and almost sheer, making me whip my head around to search for clues as to where I could be at the moment. I could have sworn I was in the Arena just seconds before, dirty ground shaking underneath my feet as I tumbled to my knees, an arrow slicing my calf open as my arms burned as I mustered up my last power and threw the axe ahead. There was a sickening crack, but I couldn’t see as my vision was darkening, my body begging for a good rest. Perhaps it was finally over, perhaps the suffering would be gone if I let go now.

            Beep. Beep. Beep.

But I realized I wasn’t in the Arena anymore as my right arm burned where different IV drips entered it, liquid entering my body and making me shudder as the sight of the tubes made me feel sick to my stomach. My chapped lips hurt as I tried to lick them, trying to sit up and call out for help, but my head was too dizzy and my body complained at every minuscule move as I rolled onto my back, whining again as pain surged throughout my whole body. I couldn’t breathe for a second, lungs heaving for air as another violent cough tore through my throat, making my eyes widen when I felt liquid trail down the side of my face.

            Beep. Beep. Beep.

My fingertips were red when I lowered them, my skin covered in goosebumps as my eyes fixated on the white ceiling. Was this what others called Heaven? Was I dead, or perhaps tethering on the line between life and death? This year was my last entry to the Hunger Games, I shouldn’t have been reaped, but that’s not how these games worked. I gulped, eyes filling with tears when I realized I would be the Capitol’s slave now if I survived this last trial, wired up to machines in a white place that made my body shake and call out for a name that only brought more pain than protection. San.

“The winner of the 73rd Hunger Games is the female tribute from District 4. Congratulations, Miss Kwon, your journey was long and strenuous, you may rest now.” I tried to fight it, to tell them to let me go, to let me succumb to nothingness, but the pounding in my head worsened and the lights only became brighter, all force and will leaving my body as I lay limply on top of the metallic table. A weak attempt at a cry for help left my lips as my eyes succumbed to the haze coating my mind, kidnapping any thought and free will.

I was nothing but a pawn in a greater game.

            Beep. Beep. Beep.

I was back home, in District 4. The ocean was by my feet as I blinked my eyes open, confused and disoriented as I looked out towards the never-ending water, lips trembling when I realized I was home. I inhaled shakily as I crouched down, fingers reaching out for the oncoming wave. The water was cold and soaked the ends of my white dress, my feet sunk into the wet sand now, steady but nerves shaky as I raised my wet hand to my nose and lips. I was home. The water was still as salty as ever and it smelled of home. My heart lurched as I shakily stood again, gripping my dress tightly as I stepped towards the water, wondering whether the waves would engulf my whole being and turn me into foam, returning me to where I had come from.

My eyes stung the longer I stared out towards the horizon, the sun hidden behind white clouds. The beach was eerily empty apart from myself and the seagulls, and I took a shaky breath when the bell of a fishing boat chimed out in the distance. My heart felt less heavy, less afraid of a future that promised certain death. I was home and I was free, I was myself again, I could pick up where I had left off, and I could live the life I always wished for. I could get inside my father’s fishing boat and go out onto the water with him, I could collect pearls and braid pretty bracelets and sell them at the day market, I could roam the busy streets again and I could see my loved ones, hug them and tell them how much I had missed them.

But I had learned that our lives were never predictable, no matter how much we planned and how much we thought ahead, something—or someone—always managed to stir it up, it would always find ways to disturb the mundane and change your whole perception of an ever-changing future. I didn’t hear him, the waves were loud and downed out all sounds beside my breaths, and I gasped when I felt strong arms circle around my waist, pull me back into a strong chest, cold nose buried in my neck as hot breath fanned over my skin. I froze for a second, scared and uncertain, wondering who would hold me so dearly, so lovingly, so tenderly despite the power he held in his hands. And then it clicked, his honey-like cologne mingling with the salty air of the ocean, I knew it was him. It was San.

Muscles tensing and body freezing, my eyes widened as my mind didn’t know whether it wanted to turn around and hide against him, or push him away and run as far away as possible. In the end, the longing and burning want had won the battle as I grabbed his warm arms, exposed as he wore a sleeveless tank top, and I turned in his loving hold, facing him. His tan skin seemed to come alive under the evening light of the tired sun, and his face remained void of worry or fear as a single dimple appeared on his cheek when his lips pulled to the side. His naturally sharp and small eyes became even smaller as they creased with his smile, turning into nothing but friendly and loving slits as San hugged me closer to himself.

“I have missed you,” His deep voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, soft and careful as his expression didn’t falter, “You returned to me.”

I gulped, hands shaking as I wondered whether this was a dream, San’s presence was too strong for it to be something made up by my mind. I had never held him like this before, it would’ve been impossible to dream of a man that was never mine to begin with, “San.”

“Yes, my love—”

“San.” It seemed like I couldn’t say anything else, hands raising as I gripped the collar of his tank top tightly, yanking him down as my eyes ran over his features, looking for any tale-tell sign that he wasn’t real. But he was here, he was holding me, he was smiling at me, and his eyes held kindness as he raised his hand, cupping my cheek as his thumb swept over my bottom lip once, then twice.

“I’m here, my love, forever here.” And unable to hold back anymore, I grabbed him by the nape and pulled him down, pressing his red lips against mine, hungry to claim what should have been mine from the beginning. It felt like anything I had previously experienced, his lips were warm and they seemed to sit perfectly against mine, careful but eager to explore my own lips as if he were a starved man. I gasped as I felt San pull me against his body, tilting my head back for better access, our lips parting as we took a second to gasp into each other’s mouths. It felt freeing, it felt safe to be held like this by him, to be loved and to know you had someone waiting for you, someone you could return to no matter how much life had changed you.

“Don’t leave me, please.” I managed to whisper when our lips parted for another breather, close enough to brush together when one of us spoke. San hummed, running his fingers through my short hair, a motion that was calming and assuring that he was here with me and for me. He smiled again and nodded once, nuzzling his nose against mine as I finally felt the tension ease from my muscles, letting me enjoy my freedom. I would never have to return to the Arena or the Capitol, Snow couldn’t do anything to me now. But as if my words were heard by some deity, or President Snow itself, the sky darkened unnaturally fast, waves high as they crashed against the shore, forcing San and I to move away, closer to the rocks and the pathway that led down to the beach. My eyes furrowed as I faced the ocean, the sky menacing as lightning struck in the distance, and I turned my head to look at San when I felt him release me.

His expression was one of ease, as if nothing bothered him, as if the weather seemed normal to him. He chuckled as his eyes settled on the horizon, “There’s something soothing about a storm, don’t you think?”

Storms out on the ocean were terrifying, but I couldn’t find my words as the wind tousled his dark hair, his white clothes clinging to his sturdy body as I tried to hold the skirt of my dress down. It was cold, I could see my breath and that was unnatural too, but I couldn’t peel my eyes off San, enraptured by the vision of him in the eye of a storm. He didn’t look out of place here, by my side, in District 4. His beauty might have been over the top, but with all the makeup gone, he looked like he could belong here, with the people of the district. Cheeks warming at the thought, I opened my mouth to answer his question, but two things happened at once. Thunder cracked loudly, making me flinch as it shook the ground and made my ears ring even after it was over, and San’s eyes suddenly steeled, arm reaching out as he aggressively pushed me back.

My eyes widened in confusion as I watched his stance become defensive, small eyes turning dangerous as he sneered, the cross necklace hanging between his pecks just a show since people like him believed in no gods, they were the gods, “San?”

But when his mouth opened, lips curling into words, no sound came out, just a loud gasp and small eyes turning so wide they could’ve popped. Confused for a few more seconds, I yelped when something warm sprayed onto me, dripping down the side of my face as it covered my hair, face, and even dress, slowly dripping down. Half of an axe stuck out from the back of San’s head, lodged in perfectly to kill him not quite instantly but certainly painfully. Something gurgled left his mouth, something I couldn’t understand as his body shook, eyes becoming hazy when he fell to one knee. My body shook as I stood frozen in shock, our white clothes coated in San’s hot red blood, dripping and tainting our hands. I couldn’t do anything as I watched his limbs grow heavy, his skin turn sickly pale until nothing was left of the man, just a lifeless body which was now crumbled into the sand, seeping red everywhere around us.

I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t even see anymore as the metallic scent of blood invaded my senses, making me gag before I could stop myself, throat tight as bile rose higher and higher. No, who had done this? Who wanted to strip me of my last thread of happiness? I couldn’t lose him, not San. And before I knew it, a scream so loud it ruptured my vocal cords tore through my throat, blood pooling in my mouth until I couldn’t breathe and feel anymore. Not San too, what did they want from me? I yelped as I felt cold knuckles pressing against my hot cheeks, chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to push at the hands, body shaking and mind reeling.

“It’s alright, hey,” The feminine voice was gentle, but I couldn’t calm down, where was I, “Y/N, it was just a bad dream, it’s alright, I’m here now.”

I didn’t understand. What was a bad dream? Where was San? Where was I? What’s happened to me? What’s happened to everyone?

“Focus on my voice,” The feminine voice spoke up again as finally the darkness was replaced with a faint golden glow, forcing my eyes to adjust to the light and my surroundings, “You’re back in the Capitol, in your room at the training centre, you’re safe. It’s me, your mentor, Joohyun.”

Joohyun, yes, I knew her. I shoot up in a sitting position, gripping her hands frantically as my mind felt scrambled, all over the place while I still couldn’t quite breathe, “Where—what happened? Why am I—San?”

My mentor just sighed and beckoned me over, pressing my head against her chest despite my reluctance, “You won the Games, Y/N, you’re the new victor of District 4. It’s going to be okay, I promise, I’ll be there for you and so will be everyone else who knows what it means to win the Games.”

“But San?” I asked in a whisper as I finally relaxed against Joohyun, letting her cradle me against her chest as if I were a baby who needed soothing.

“San is…here.” Joohyun spoke calmly but her tone was strained, “You’ll see him tomorrow, you need to rest now, Y/N.”

I hummed, mind filled with the image of San’s lifeless body lying at my feet. It made my lungs constrict and I gripped at the sheets, trying to prevent a panic attack as Joohyun sighed, gently pushing me back by the shoulders, “You should have some water first.”

I nodded and took it from her wordlessly, downing the cup of water as my throat felt parched, my eyes burning from how dry they were. Joohyun watched me wordlessly as I fiddled with the cup in my hands, breaths regulated but my mind still wasn’t present, lost in the vividity of the bad dream.

“I know you won’t be able to sleep, but you must try.” Joohyun spoke up when she realized I wouldn’t say anything to her, she looked tired, older than she was, as if the Games had worn her out too, “It might feel suffocating at times, but you’re not alone in this, so don’t be afraid to reach out. Your interview, it’s…tomorrow, I’m sorry, I couldn’t stall it, President Snow wants you up and running for the public as soon as possible. You gave everyone quite the scare when you passed out, the Capitol thought they wouldn’t have a victor to celebrate this year.”

“Maybe it would have been better like that.” I found myself muttering as I looked down at the cup in my hands. Joohyun gulped, looking towards the huge windows that had been darkened so the city lights wouldn’t bother me. I missed the ocean, I wanted to go home. With sadness ridden in her eyes, Joohyun leaned forward and took the cup from my hands, patting them gently before she stood.

“I’m glad you returned.” She said quietly, eyes avoiding mine when she looked up, “The real Games start only now, Y/N.”

I didn’t know what her answer meant, but I didn’t want to find out as my mind screamed for me to sleep, my muscles protesting when I reached out for the remote control to change the blackness of the window into one of the ocean that resembled District 4 rather accurately. Alone in a room that bore only unpleasant memories, a reminder of the life I was stripped of, I lay on my side, facing the sparkling blue water foaming at the top as the waves crashed, and I couldn’t help but hum to myself a lullaby that only the sailors of District 4 knew.

            I wasn’t ready. My heart thundered in my chest as my makeup artists fluttered around me, making sure everything was perfect, eyeshadow staying in place as my skin felt like melting off by how much product had been put on it. I stayed silent and parted my lips when Mingyu, an intimidatingly tall man, leaned down to tap a red-coated thin brush against my lips, coating them in a sickening red as I watched myself through the mirror. It reminded me of all the blood I had to spill in the Arena, of my own blood that seemed to constantly cling to my body, the smell reminding me of the monster I had become. I flinched when Hinata’s hand patted my bare shoulder encouragingly, a small tiara now placed on top of my head, nestled into the unnatural bun she and her assistant, an Avox, managed to somehow pull together despite the short length of my hair.

I felt cold despite the warm temperature of the room and my throat seemed to constrict each time I tried to respond to the people surrounding me, who were genuinely happy to have me back. I hadn’t had the chance to grow close with them as we only had a few days to prepare for the Games, but I appreciated the effort they put into making me look presentable. After all, their job mattered a lot since they had to make me look desirable to the public, for the Capitol. And still, as the white fabric clung to my body tightly, a net-like brown fabric draping down from my hips well below where the skirt of my dress ended, I was reminded of my stylist’s gentle touch anytime he had to dress me. Today he wasn’t here to help out, to soothe my nerves with quiet words and a sharp gaze that was filled with regret but also admiration. The desperate need to see San was maddening as Joohyun stormed inside the dressing room, her eyes slightly wide as she was panting. She wore an elegant white suit, matching her petite form well.

“Is she ready?” She addressed the team still fussing around me, Mingyu, now frowning as he added more blush to my cheeks, spoke up.

“Last minute touch-ups, Flickerman can wait another few minutes.”

“But I’m afraid President Snow can’t.” Joohyun’s voice dropped as Mingyu stiffened, looking over my head at Hinata, who looked just as displeased as her teammate.

“Fine, but I still need to clip the pearls—”

“I’ll do it.” The room fell silent as I stiffened in my seat, eyes widening just a little bit as the man that’s been haunting my every thought since I had met him appeared in the doorway. I gulped, watching Joohyun’s expression settle into unease as she nodded towards the door, Mingyu and Hinata stepping away from me as they understood Joohyun’s implication, “Leave us alone.”

“Don’t take too long, San.” Joohyun’s voice held a warning and I gripped the edge of the seat harshly, long fake nails sinking into the leather. Hinata offered San a smile as she handed over the pearls to him as she passed by him and it felt like all air left the room when the door closed behind San and only the two of us remained inside. I gulped, eyes boring into his through the mirror, and I couldn’t help but let the harsh words tumble past my red-stained lips.

“I hate you.” A beat of silence passed as I stood, still watching San through the mirror, taken aback by his beauty and elegance in the white suit he wore, highlighting his sharp features and tan complex. His blazer was low cut and placed everything the Capitol found desirable on display, his pants long enough to obscure his shoes, and his coat was long too as it hid his large build fairly well. My breath caught in my throat when San took a tentative step further inside the room, grip tightening around the pearls.

“I know.” And as always, his tone was soft and his face was ridden with guilt and worry, and I couldn’t hold back anymore as my mind screamed at me to move towards him, to touch him, to feel him. It was maddening how much I yearned for the stylist, for a man who was from the Capitol, for the first person who had faith in me and encouraged me to never give up, even when the odds seemed to be against my favour. I gulped, licking my lips as I came face to face with him and the need to hold him was strong enough to make me cup his cheeks, watching as his eyes fluttered closed. He exhaled loudly, jaw clenching when I stepped closer, and before he could open his eyes and I would get lost in their depth and warmth, I pressed my lips against his hungrily. I hadn’t given in previously to the want, I feared that if I did so, I would be a dead woman the second the canon went off in the Arena. And I hated myself because I was ridden with regret the whole time, thinking back on what we could’ve had in the few days that I had before the Games. And I hated myself even more for wanting to return because of him, because of San, to hold him and be held, to kiss him and be kissed, to be his if he wanted me too.

His lips felt warm, a little wet as I couldn’t control myself and sped up the kiss, our lips smacking together loudly as San finally touched me, gripping my hip harshly as he yanked my body into his. It felt unreal to be so close to him, to feel his body warmth and to smell his expensive and sweet cologne, to inhale the air he exhaled. His lips were just as eager as mine, parting in invitation and moulding perfectly against mine when I considered pulling back, remembering Joohyun’s words, but San chased after my lips like a starved man, a whine leaving his mouth when I finally caved in and let my tongue press against his tentatively. Something fell to the floor and then I felt San’s other hand hold onto my nape as his tongue lapped at mine, pushing and pulling, exploring my mouth as he held onto me like he was afraid I would disappear, and I could’ve sworn he’d consume my whole being until nothing was left of me. I didn’t want him to let go, I was afraid if he did the door would open and Peacekeepers would yank us away, and tell us that we’d be punished for our actions. But my lungs were on fire and I felt tears prick at my closed eyes and I couldn’t let Mingyu and Hinata’s work go to waste, so with a gentle hand against his exposed chest, I pushed him away, making San gasp.

I gulped, struggling to find my breath as San’s forehead came down against mine, arms moving so that I was in his embrace now. A shuddered breath left my mouth as I clung to him, fingers gripping his coat' tightly at his sides as we remained silent, basking in the other’s warmth and scent, which had become familiar by now.

“I was afraid,” San muttered lowly, gulping as if he had to pause to collect himself, “so afraid I’d lose you.”

I shuddered, the horrors of the Arena still fresh in my mind as I could still see the lifeless faces behind my eyes whenever I closed them. Hands slightly shaking, I blinked my eyes open when it felt like my lungs tried to prevent me from breathing and I looked at San’s perfect face, forever mesmerized by his beauty.

“I fought really hard to come back,” I whispered, my heart clenching when San’s eyes opened, boring into mine sharply, “I wanted to survive so desperately, I—I had to come back to you, I—what had you done to me, San? Why do I want you so badly?”

San gulped, eyebrows furrowing as his jaw clenched again, and I knew I must’ve said the wrong thing because his face became devoid of any emotion, however, his embrace only tightened as he shook his head, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I was just trying to be supportive, I didn’t mean to make you—care for me.”

“Do you not care for me back?” My voice sounded weak, and I hated the disappointment that followed when San failed to answer me. I nodded wordlessly and untangled my tight grip from San’s coat, trying to step back, but San hadn’t released me yet from his embrace. He looked conflicted like he didn’t know what was right to say at the moment, and I preferred him not to say anything if he was so uncertain.

“I care for you, of course, I do.” His voice was a whisper as he leaned forward, lips brushing against my ear and it made goosebumps appear on my skin, “But it’s dangerous, I shouldn’t care and neither should you.”

I knew this, of course, I did, but I couldn’t help it. Not when he was the reason I stood here, alive and frightened beyond my mind about what the future had in store for me. Joohyun was right, the Games were just starting and I was defenceless in front of an enemy that could destroy me just with simple words.

“Let’s not keep President Snow waiting, hm?” San’s arms disappeared at once from around my body and I shivered, taken aback by the sudden change of temperature as he had an easy smile on his lips, dimple on his cheek. He crouched down and grabbed the fallen pearls, standing in front of me with a professional look on his face. The first time I had seen San he was at the train station, ready to welcome the tributes of District 4 with a wide friendly smile on his lips and a stance that screamed confidence. He was dressed to the nines, in burgundy satin pants and a sheer black blouse tucked in, a cropped fur coat draped around his wide shoulders. His already sharp eyes were accentuated even more by the dark purple smokey eyeshadow and his lips were a burgundy red, matching his pants and his nails, which resembled blood as they were tainted in peculiar patterns. I knew I couldn’t trust the man, he was just a flashy asshole from the Capitol, only here to doll me up and make me look desirable to the public, and probably for his own sadistic tendencies. But I was wrong, San was a soft-spoken and emotional being, eyes expressive even when his face remained blank.

He was the first one to tell me I was stronger than I looked, that he saw the shimmer in my eyes turn into fire when it came to survival. He told me he would bet on me if he could, that he knew I had it in me to become a victor. He said he wasn’t ready to let me go just yet, not when he had never met someone quite like me before. Apparently, my eyes were big and full of wonder, eager to discover more despite my predicament. And the night before the Games, when I couldn’t sleep and felt on the verge of a panic attack, he stumbled through my threshold in a drunken stupor, confessing his adoration for me and his desperate need to have me, to hold me and truly know me. I couldn’t promise him anything, but I told him I’d try to return, that I’d do my best to come back to him, then he broke down crying and as he hiccupped while I held him, I heard him mutter that he’s never seen anyone as radiant and beautiful as me before. And he doomed me from that second on, because all I wanted moving forward was for him to hold me when I returned.

The sheer fabric was sparkly as the beads were sewn into it and it sat loosely around my shoulders, chest and back, stopping just above my stomach. It felt heavy as San walked around me to clip the back together, adjusting it until it sat against the rest of my dress the way it was supposed to. San’s designs were beautiful, I had been sceptical of them at first, but when I realized he didn’t intend to make me something the Capitol would lust over but rather admire, I grew to trust him and thanked him for making me feel beautiful if even for a fleeting moment, “Hold onto me.”

And he offered me his arm as we both faced the door, my hands trembling in fear as San pushed it open, walking us towards the stage with flashing lights, the TV anchor’s voice all of a sudden booming as he spoke into his microphone. He was saying something, but I couldn’t hear it as I felt frozen, holding onto San for stability when Joohyun and the rest of the makeup team appeared next to us. Joohyun’s eyebrows were furrowed when she looked at us and she gently coaxed my fingers away from San’s coat, holding my hand instead as she guided me towards the stage, just to where the backstage wall ended. It caught Caesar Flickerman’s attention and his eyes lit up at once, a high-pitched sound escaping his throat as he faced the audience with eagerness.

“Don’t let them see.” Joohyun’s voice was harsh as she turned her head to look at me, “And remember, you are lucky to be alive, for having been offered this chance to participate in the Games, and you are proud and honoured to be standing on this stage again.”

I took a shaky breath as I nodded my head, Joohyun’s words from this morning still fresh in my mind. The Capitol wasn’t allowed to see the turmoil in my head, the struggle, the fear and the pain which hid just underneath the surface. I had to keep up a strong front, to smile and gloat about my victory as if all the lost lives meant nothing to me, as if killing all those innocent children didn’t bother me at all. My throat tightened and I tried to grip Joohyun’s hand harder, but Caesar was calling out my name and the crowd was roaring loudly, and before I could even think about running back to the dressing room, a warm hand on my lower back pushed me forward.

The lights were blinding and the cheers and claps deafening, and I froze when I felt the TV anchor’s cold fingers graze my arm, run down to my wrist and then hand as he raised it to press a swift kiss against my knuckles as a greeting. I didn’t flinch, and before all the fear could swallow me whole, I plastered a big smile onto my face, laughing gently when Caesar lowered my hand from his face but still held onto it once he noticed I was wearing really high stilettos.

“Oh, my!” He exclaimed as if he was a child who just got their present on their birthday, “You look absolutely gorgeous, Miss Kwon.”

I chuckled and looked away abashed as he led us towards the two fancy armchairs, “Thank you, but it’s mostly thanks to my makeup team and my stylist—”

“Ah, yes!” He exclaimed before I could even finish my sentence, and I was glad I could hold onto his hand for stability because my ankles threatened to give out once I faced the crowd, “Choi San! What a man he is! Everyone loves him, I bet you do too, Miss Kwon?”

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, but harmless, and I took my seat once Caesar gesticulated towards it, “Yes, he’s really good at what he does. His creations are breathtaking.”

“Well, yes, he certainly overdid himself with this mermaid but sailor-like outfit,” Caesar took a deep breath before he faced the crowd, smiling so widely that it must’ve hurt, “Don’t you just love it?!”

And the crowd cheered, some even standing up to clap, to stick out more as I tried to continue to smile in a way that looked thankful but also abashed. Caesar was referring to my outfit, but I wished to be invisible at this exact moment. My hands shook but I hid them by interlacing my fingers and lowering them in my lap. Silence finally settled upon the room and I gulped, perhaps too loudly, because Caesar chuckled as he looked back at me amused.

“Well, look at our mermaid—can I call you that?” No, I didn’t want to be called a mermaid, I didn’t want to be associated with a mythical creature that was innocent and pure.

“You can call me whatever you wish,” My voice was warm and dripped with honey, I tried not to look surprised by myself, “I do look like a mermaid, don’t I?”

The crowd cheered again and I let my smile widen as I looked towards them, thankful for the blinding lights as I couldn’t see their faces. The people from the Capitol made me sick with their over-the-top extravaganza and the ease they could live with, I didn’t want to see them.

“Well, Miss Kwon, now that we’ve settled that you are our little mermaid,” Caesar leaned in with a worried expression, lips downturned and eyebrows furrowed, he looked genuine, “Tell us, how do you feel?”

I gulped, suddenly the silence making my skin itch as everyone waited for my answer. I smiled as I tried to look back to where I knew Joohyun stood, but then her words rang through my mind and I leaned back in the chair, trying to look casual, “Well, how am I supposed to feel? I just won the Games, Caesar, and it wasn’t easy. I’m on cloud nine, actually, I got a good night’s sleep and now I’m ready to tackle whatever the Capitol throws my way next.”

“Brilliant!” Caesar shouted, making me flinch, but I laughed as the crowd cheered once again, I could see the camera zoom in on my face, so I made sure my smile was wide and as genuine as possible, “You have a way with your words that just keeps me on my toes, you know, Miss Kwon? I bet the people love it too! Tell us, is there anything you cannot wait to do now that you’re out of the Arena?”

I took a deep breath as I faced the camera, my next words genuine, “I miss my parents and I miss the ocean, so I cannot wait to return home, actually.”

“Ah, yes,” Caesar had a compassionate look on his face as he reached out to pat my hands reassuringly, “District 4 became a richer district thanks to your contribution to their victors’, I bet they can’t wait to meet you.”

“And I cannot wait to meet them too,” I gulped, hoping I sounded genuine to those who were watching us, “I’ve always looked up to our victors, they are strong and brave and they’ve made our District shine every chance they could.”

“And now you are part of them too,” Caesar had a cheeky grin on his face as he mirrored my stance and leaned back into his armchair comfortably, “But before you return, you’ve still got a few days in the Capitol. Aren’t you just excited to meet everyone at the party?”

I was dreading that moment, but I tried to look as enthusiastic as possible as I perked up, sitting up straighter, “Yes! I’ve heard of these parties ever since I was a little girl, I cannot wait to meet everyone. And I’m also overly curious about my outfit too.”

“San will certainly overdo himself again,” Caesar was beaming as he spoke of my stylist, everyone in the Capitol was head over heels for San, “I am so excited to see what he has in store for us, do you reckon he’ll wear something pompous himself?”

I chuckled as my fingers tightened against each other, “Well, when has he not?”

The crowd and Caesar laughed and I smiled too, wanting to glance back to where I knew the team was watching me, but my body felt stiff as suddenly Caesar turned serious, licking his lips as he crossed one leg over the other, “I bet everyone would love it if we talked more about our beloved San, but this day is about you, Miss Kwon, and I have to mention your amazing kills. You have a sharp precision that’s hard to miss and even I was amazed by them, despite having seen many Games before. What’s your secret? I bet no one expected you to pick an axe as your weapon of choice since you are from District 4.”

“I—” I gulped, my body suddenly becoming cold as my mind reeled at the vivid memories flashing behind my eyes. The scent of blood, the vision of tearing flesh and the screams that haunted my nightmares, it was too much. My heart was pumping blood fast and my ears were ringing as the lights became too bright, Caesar's voice seemed distant when he called my name and I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but then I remembered Joohyun’s words and I knew I had to keep it together, it was all for the show, “Well, first of all, thank you, Caesar. I am honoured that you think so highly of my skills, I cannot say I worked hard to gain them, but I did train as much as I could before the Games, you know? My father is a fisherman so I would often help him out with cutting up the fish, I—I just associated the axe with a butcher’s knife.”

“Fascinating.” Caesar's eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he paid close attention to my words, and I resisted the itch to scratch at my neck, which felt on fire, “You keep on impressing me every time you speak, you’re truly full of surprises, Miss Kwon, we haven’t had a victor like you quite in a while.”

“You’re too kind.” I averted my eyes and realized they were burning from being too dry, the lights made my head thump and the corset was too tight around my torso, I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Nonsense,” Caesar chuckled and then grinned mischievously, “Before I let you go enjoy your victory, let’s rewatch my favourite kills! They are truly marvellous.”

I gasped quietly as a small screen suddenly appeared in front of us, and Caesar clapped his hands, the lights dimming as the video was played on the big screens behind us as well. My eyes fixated on myself in the video, on the frantic look in my eyes as I grabbed the axe from the Cornucopia and flung it towards the way too young child when he tried to sneak up on me. My jaw clenched and I flinched every time I watched the axe I was gripping tightly make contact with human flesh, drowning out the gasps and cheers of the crowd as well as Caesar's elated yelps whenever I took out someone again. It felt like my own personal hell to watch myself kill someone, to watch the lifeless look in my eyes, the elated expression on my face whenever the canon went off. I was covered in blood, it was matted to my hair, and it had ruined my clothes too, but I failed to notice it as I roamed around aimlessly, eyes cold and crazed as I searched for my next victim. I looked desperate, I had felt desperate, and it made tears gather in my eyes when the footage shifted to my last kill, the one of which I barely had any recollection of, but my body reacted so viscerally that I feared I would empty my stomach’s contents right in front of everyone.

I continued looking at the screen but I wasn’t seeing anything anymore, my brain had given up on my surroundings, on what was happening to me and around me. I was there, merely a shell of who I used to be, and I didn’t want to see even one more second of the monster that slayed everyone without remorse on her face. At last, Caesar finally clapped his hands and the lights were strong again and he was squealing and yelping, but I couldn’t hear anything. I felt hands grip my arm and help me stand, then it was raised in the air and everyone cheered again, people standing up as they clapped loudly for me. Caesar's shrill voice called my name again and announced me as this year's victor, and when it was time for me to finally get off the stage, I turned emotionlessly and gave a last wave to the camera as I tried not to tumble while I walked to where I knew Joohyun stood at.

“And thus, I had been Caesar Flickerman, thank you for your attention and see you really soon, don’t forget to tune in for the Hunger Games’ lotto that I’ll be hosting in just a few hours!” And then my legs finally gave out as a sob tore through my throat, knees shaking as I fell to the cold ground, making everyone gasp as Joohyun sprung towards me, hissing at the staff to bring me a blanket and for the lights to be turned off so that nobody would see us. She called my name but I couldn’t hear her, the dress was suffocating and my face felt heavy with all the makeup on it, I needed to be somewhere far away from here. I gripped the beautiful pearl top and gave it one tug, making it fall apart and spread all over the floor as Hinata and Mingyu gasped, crowding around me. My hands were trying to undo the corset before anyone could react, and then I felt a warm presence behind me grip my arms painfully, shaking me to the point I had to look up in a daze.

San’s face was coated in worry as I exhaled ragged, only now realizing that I was hyperventilating, ���Don’t make me wear white—I don’t—San, I don’t want to wear white ever again, please.”

He kneeled in front of me, and with a sharp nod of his head Mingyu and Hinata were gone, only Joohyun remaining close by with the blanket in her hands, eyebrows furrowed and gaze sharp as she watched San collect me in his arms, “I know, my love, no more white. I promise. “

I couldn’t bear to see something so innocent and pure get tainted by blood again.

            Being at the Victor’s Party was possibly as bad as being forced inside the Arena. It was filled to the brim with pompous Capitol people who drank until they couldn’t stand on their feet anymore, eating until they had to throw up just to eat some more. Their voices were loud and they were constantly laughing, clinking their glasses together and asking me to exchange quick words with them, which would turn into an excruciatingly long conversation that made my skin itch and my disgust show as I struggled to control my facial expressions. I wanted to go home, I couldn’t stay any longer in this wretched place, and I could’ve cried in happiness when I noticed Finnick Odair, District 4’s youngest victor, approach me with a charming smile. He was, surprisingly, covered from head to toe, his dark blue suit tailored to his body, enhancing his sun-kissed complex, his blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. He looked handsome and he knew it as he carried himself with a confident aura, eyes twinkling with mischief and lips always pulled to the side into a smirk or an amused grin. I had never spoken to him before, but he was a very popular victor and so I knew him from seeing him from time to time on the TV or at the market back in District 4.

“My, my, my,” Finnick’s tone was amused as he came to a stop next to me, towering over me, much like San, “you’re hounding our victor and you aren’t even ashamed of it.”

As if Finnick had just said the joke of the year, the five people surrounding us broke out in loud laughter, throwing their heads back as Finnick threw me a sneaky glance. It wasn’t hard to miss the irritation he managed to mask well in that split second and I felt myself relax for being seen, for being understood by such an important person. I would’ve never guessed Finnick hated the Capitol just as much as any other person from the districts, but it was reassuring to know he wasn’t so different from us after all.

“If only they were just hounding me,” I muttered bitterly as the other five were still busy giggling behind their champagne glasses, my eyes fell on Finnick, “and not asking me to bed them as well.”

Finnick’s jaw ticked but he didn’t react to my comment as his smile became wider when the lady standing next to him touched his arm, Finnick gave her a flirtatious look. Her eyelashes were unnaturally long and she reeked of alcohol, her lips pink and way too plump, but Finnick didn’t flinch away, instead he reciprocated her flirty look, “I hadn’t seen you in a while, Odair.”

“Such a shame, isn’t it?” He said with sadness in his tone, and I watched him curiously as the lady rubbed his bicep for a second too long.

“Are you free tonight?” Finnick’s smile stayed in place as he pretended to think, then leaned closer to the lady and lowered his voice.

“I might be,” The lady’s cheeks flushed instantly as she averted her eyes, “Have you missed me a lot?”

“Yes, so much.” She bit her lower lip provocatively and I averted my eyes as I felt bile rise in my throat. My empty glass was suddenly snatched from my hands and replaced with another one filled to the brim with champagne, and I tried to hide my nausea at the thought of having to drink another sip of that bitter liquid.

“Maybe we’ll meet again, then,” Finnick concluded before his attention was on the men around us, greeting them with handshakes and letting them touch his cheek, making me give them a weird look. They were eager to ask questions from Finnick, but he politely turned them down and instead sneaked his arm around my bare shoulders, pulling me into his side with a cheeky grin.

“I’m sure you’d all understand if I stole Miss Kwon away, right?” His eyebrows furrowed in hesitance, and I was amazed by his acting skills, “We never got the chance to speak properly, I’d like to show her around as her elder from the District.”

“Yes, go ahead!” The people exclaimed and even pushed us away, not before one man grabbed my hands and pressed a disgustingly wet kiss against my knuckles, his teeth yellow despite his fancy way of living, his eyes filled with lust as they raked over my body. I pretended I didn’t see as I gripped Finnick’s arm and allowed him to lead us away, somewhere quieter, he took my glass of champagne away too and threw it in the trashcan, surprising me.

“Never drink anything they hand you,” His voice was low so that no one would hear, his perfectly charming smile still on his lips. I tried my best to look just like him, at ease with a flirty smile on my lips, “You can drink what you take from a tray or table, but never what they hand you, understood?”

“Yes, thank you,” I said with a grateful smile as I turned my head to face him, wanting to ask so much more, but I knew now wasn’t the time or place. We’d have plenty of time back in District 4, “And thank you for saving me, I didn’t know what excuse to come up with to get away from them finally.”

“Never say you’re going to the bathroom either,” Finnick smiled widely at someone who waved at him from the crowd as we came to a standstill next to a white pillar, “They find it as an invitation to go somewhere secluded with you, and you don’t want that.”

“I really don’t,” I sighed frustrated as my scalp itched from how tight the braids Hinata had done were, “Thank you, Finnick, really.”

He finally looked at me with a knowing look on his face, his charming smile finally dropping as his eyes hardened. He looked tired and fed-up, but his voice remained soft and careful, “I’ll protect you as much as I can, just as Joohyun has been doing, but even we are powerless at times, I’m sorry. Another friendly advice, however, is if you want to ditch someone here, just say you saw someone you know and take off before they can speak up. They won’t follow you, they are too lazy to do that.”

“Do you enjoy these parties?” The question bubbled past my lips before I could stop myself and I averted my eyes when Finnick’s filled with amusement, a dimple forming on his cheek when he smiled genuinely for the first time. He reminded me of San, Finnick’s smile was beautiful too but never to San’s extent. San was here too somewhere, swept up in the crowd, with the people he belonged to. His outfit was revealing, all black and fitting his body like a second skin. I felt like I couldn’t look at him when we met, feeling like I was sinning just by letting him lace up my dress. He had listened to my request, my dress was a dark blue, much like Finnick’s suit, and the fabric bunched under my knees into ruffles, fading into ivory to resemble the foam of the ocean. It was beautiful, San had said this style was called ‘mermaid’ as he wished to play into the crowd's likes. Apparently, President Snow had also told him to make me wear a dress that fit the nickname Flickerman had given me, and I was nervous when I found out about this. Joohyun’s face was stern and her eyes a silent warning when we arrived at the scene, one nod of her head was enough to tell me to watch myself and not to cause a scene.

I was doing fine so far, it got hard at times and all I wished for was to hide and go to bed, but I was doing better than I thought I would. I managed not to hyperventilate nor sob when a couple approached me and asked me to reenact one of the kills I had done in the Arena, apparently, it was their son’s favourite from this season. Schooling my expressions was the hardest, I managed not to throw up once they finished talking, but I couldn’t help but glower at them with disgust, managing to scare them off when I showed them just exactly what they wanted to see. Apparently, it wasn’t so entertaining to watch someone kill another when they were standing right in front of you, gripping a knife with a twisted look on their face. The hypocrisy these people lived with flew past my mind as I was unable to understand or relate to them.

“I loathe these parties, Y/N, everything you see on TV,” Finnick paused for a dramatic effect as he leaned towards me, eyes wide, “if fake. You’ll learn with time how to manage everything, but it’ll never get easy.”

“I should’ve died in that Arena,” I whispered under my breath, watching pity reflect on Finnick’s face as he released a long sigh.

“Maybe we all should’ve, but think about your family.” I felt a hand grip my shoulder, so I looked up at Finnick, “They are happy and glad to have you back, so even if we should be dead, knowing you’ll be able to see them again should bring a little joy while you’re cooped up in the Capitol.”

“I am happy, as much as I can be at the moment.” I said with conviction, “But I’m a monster now, and I don’t think they are ready to face me yet. I’m not—I don’t feel like I’m the same person anymore.”

“Because you’re not.” Finnick’s tone was hard but harmless at the same time. His eyes were void of any emotion, he seemed absent from the conversation as his hand fell from my shoulder, “You’ll never be the person you were before you stepped foot into the Arena, and you’ll have to learn to accept it. We might be monsters, but don’t forget the biggest one out of all of us.”

I gulped, not missing the implication of Finnick’s words. President Coriolanus Snow. He was the biggest monster, our biggest enemy, a tyrant who only took and took from the Districts without giving anything back, who tried to make the Capitol flourish despite the blood on their hands. It was unfair, but who was I to make a change? I was too insignificant to start a spark for which the people from the districts were desperately waiting.

“Hello,” Both Finnick and I tensed as a deep voice spoke up behind us, a little bit hesitant, “Sorry to bother you, President Snow asked me to fetch the new victor…”

Finnick and I turned our heads, coming face to face with a man who was taller than even Finnick. He towered over the both of us, skin ashen and cheeks hollow as his small and sharp eyes were obscured by his black hair falling over his forehead. His shoulders were hunched forward and the skin of his neck was red where the collar of his white shirt ended. I knew him, I saw him on the TV last year. He killed his own district’s female tribute to win.

“Ah, Mingi!” Finnick, springing forward and hugging the man as he ignored the other victor’s clear discomfort, was beaming all of a sudden, “I had been wondering all night long where you were hiding now.”

I watched the two as Mingi looked down at his shoes, not attempting to step out of Finnick’s side hug, “The bathroom was cramped so I found a nice balcony—until Snow found me, of course.”

“Oh, no,” Finnick whispered, lips pulled into a tight line, “did he say anything?”

“Nothing bad, surprisingly.” Mingi shrugged and looked relieved when Finnick finally released him, “Just inquired about my well-being and—her.”

“I see.” Finnick’s voice was compassionate and my eyebrows furrowed as I didn’t quite understand what they were talking about, but I realised it wasn’t my place to pry. Eyes falling on me, I tried to smile at the tall man but he looked like he wanted to die, and it made me anxious as I didn’t know how to approach him, “Well, I’ll leave you two be. See you around, yes?”

“Yes,” Mingi muttered as Finnick nodded at me before he slipped away, leaving the other man and me in an uncomfortable silence.

“I’m Kwon Y/N, pleased to meet you.” I offered a hand for the man to shake and he reluctantly did, his handshake surprisingly firm despite his tame behaviour.

“I’m Song Mingi, you—you did well, I’m sorry.” His words were confusing but they made complete sense somehow, and I felt tears prick at my eyes all of a sudden. But I couldn’t let them fall, not right as I was about to meet President Snow, and Mingyu worked for two hours on my makeup.

“Thank you,” My voice was hoarse and Mingi looked at my face for the first time, surprised, “I did my best even though I wish I hadn’t.”

Understanding passed over Mingi’s features as he nodded once, then pointed reluctantly towards the stairs I failed to notice when Finnick and I had stopped next to the pillar, “You shouldn’t keep President Snow waiting.”

I nodded and followed after Mingi as his long legs took hurried steps, making me have to run to catch up with him on the stairs, but I remained silent as I realized he wasn’t much of a talker. He looked like he didn’t want to hide the turmoil going on inside his mind, and I admired him for it as he wasn’t afraid of what the people would think. I wanted to do the same, but Joohyun instructed me against it, telling me that if the Capitol didn’t find me desirable, I’d be thrown to the side, and that never meant good. I wondered whether Mingi had been thrown to the side too, but seeing him here made me realize I had heard people whisper about him while I was forced to mingle with them.

“Is he—do you think he’ll punish me?” I found myself asking as Mingi led us down a long corridor with plenty of doors on both sides.

“Did you do anything bad?” He asked as he glanced over his shoulder. I bit my lip and shrugged.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then no, he won’t.” Mingi’s answer was curt and it felt like he wanted to say more, but he abruptly stopped in front of a door and sighed heavily, “This is President Snow’s office, I’ll wait for you here.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know.” For the first time, Mingi looked in my eyes with concern coating his features, and I gulped as I stepped forward and knocked on the sturdy wooden door. If Mingi didn’t want to leave me, I wouldn’t ask him to, too scared that I wouldn’t leave Snow’s office ever again. At least one person knew where I was if anything were to happen to me. The door opened before I could push it open and my muscles tensed as I took a deep breath and pushed it further open, stepping inside. It was cool inside the office and my mind blanched at the avid stench of blood in the air, I tried to keep my composure and my heart from racing. My skin itched when President Snow’s lips pulled into an amused grin, beckoning me further inside with his hand. The door closed behind me and I jumped, glancing back and wishing Mingi would’ve entered with me.

“Miss Kwon,” President Snow smiled, flattening his hands on the surface of his table. The colour matched the door’s, “Congratulations on becoming a victor, you’ve certainly done your utmost best. You’ve impressed quite a few people here.”

“Thank you, President Snow.” I bowed my head respectfully, glad that my voice didn’t waver like every particle of my body did. I pushed my hands behind my back to hide their tremor and looked into President Snow’s dark eyes.

“How do you find the Capitol, little mermaid?” I hated that nickname and it was probably easy to tell as President Snow chuckled, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly. His office was huge, bookshelves lined the walls to my left and right and the lights were dim despite it being dark outside. A vase of white roses sat in the corner on top of Snow’s desk, and I didn’t miss the one tucked in his suit’s pocket.

“It’s—different.” I gulped, trying to sound nonchalant, “It’s big and beautiful, full of life, I suppose.”

“But you miss District 4, yes?” Snow quirked an eyebrow, expression turning serious. I nodded wordlessly and he hummed, looking sideways and out the window. The partygoers were visible from here and as I followed his line of sight my eyes widened slightly when I spotted San, who was leaning into a velvet cushion as hands roamed his chest, a silver cross dangling between his pecks. Everyone seemed to be taken with him as he laughed and drank champagne, smirking with a flirtatious look on his sharp features at both men and women alike, “And you wish to still return home, don’t you?”

I gulped and tore my eyes away from the sight, freezing with President Snow’s eyes fixated on me with a curious glint in them, “Yes, I would really like to return home. I miss the ocean and my parents.”

“And you won’t miss anything from the Capitol?”

What was I supposed to say? Was this a trap? I gulped and cleared my throat, scavenging my brain for an answer.

“Maybe—the pretty dresses?” President Snow’s head fell back as he started laughing, eyes holding an amused twinkle when he looked back at me.

“And not the one that makes those dresses?” I felt my blood run cold as President Snow had a knowing smile on his lips as he leaned forward in his chair, arms coming to rest on his table.

“I—I’ll miss Hinata and Mingyu, and San—San too, of course.” I hated how vulnerable I sounded, my voice weak and shaky, “They were my team and they—they made me pretty, so I—”

“Miss Kwon,” President Snow’s tone was tired and low as he interrupted my pitiful stammering, “People like Mr. Choi and you don’t belong together. He was born here and you were not, if you can bear heartbreak then I have nothing else to say, but look at him. Don’t you think you’ll never be enough for him? That he’ll always see you as a dirty little thing from a fishing district that reeks of seafood?”

I gulped, throat constricting as tears sprung to my eyes. I couldn’t turn my head, I couldn’t look at San again. President Snow was right, I had always known this, I had never even thought further about whatever could be between us. I knew this, but hearing the words said out loud only made it sting more, “Get yourself together, Miss Kwon. You’re a smart girl and if you know what’s best for you, forget about Mr. Choi now. You know it’ll never happen, and if you don’t want to believe it, then let me tell you this. I’ll never allow it, Miss Kwon, you can’t have Mr. Choi, he’s mine and the Capitol’s.”

I exhaled forcefully and bit my tongue as I looked up, blinking away the tears rapidly as my jaw clenched, “You can’t own a person, President Snow.”

“Can’t I?” He snickered as he leaned back in his chair once again, “Speak to Finnick Odair again, perhaps, ask more questions this time. I’m sure he has lots of tales about me and the Capitol. Or perhaps you could tell Mr. Song that the fence he likes to climb could be re-electrified any second—”

“Why are you threatening others when this is about me?!” My voice raised as my eyebrows furrowed and President Snow smiled, tapping his cheek as he grabbed a handkerchief out of his pocket.

“Because it’s not just about you, Miss Kwon, it’s about everything I own.” A cough ripped through President Snow’s chest, and I watched with furrowed eyebrows as he pressed the white handkerchief against his mouth. Was it possible for him to catch a cold? He was still human, after all, “And you, victors, are my propriety. I can do whatever to you, whenever I want to. And you are not to see Mr. Choi after tonight ever again, do you understand me?”

My body went rigid and I gulped, the voices in my head screaming at me to grab a pencil and stab him through the neck, to end the man’s life who has caused so much anguish to all of us. My heart pumped fast and my hands shook as anger seemed to flame underneath my skin and I gulped, trying to clear the red fog inside my brain, the insatiable thirst to get rid of the person that was such a threat to not just me, but everyone. But it also scared me how violently I would react now, how my first thought at a little inconvenience was to kill—this wasn’t me. The me before the Games would’ve never resorted to murder, and it scared me to the point I felt my breaths turn uneven as President Snow’s eyes continued to bore into mine curiously, a wondering expression crossing his features. My throat was tight as I opened my lips to speak, and I clenched my hands into fists as I raised my head higher and looked into the man’s eyes, “I understand.”

And whatever he seemed on my face must’ve been satisfying enough because with a flick of his wrist, he dismissed me, and I turned without any respect or pleasantries as I stormed towards the door and ripped it open, letting it slam behind me. I stepped into the corridor, male voices fading into silence as my chest raised and fell rapidly, my hands shaking as I stared ahead and out the big windows, eyes fixated on San as he leaned towards a red-head and whispered in her ear, making her giggle and lean into him, a hand placed high on his thigh.

“Y/N?” An unfamiliar voice snapped me out of my thoughts as I sharply turned my head, eyes falling on the man standing next to Mingi. He was taller, just barely, and his features were soft and cautious as he tried to offer me a smile, “Uh, sorry, I’m Jeong Yunho, Mingi said he’d wait for you so I did too.”

Mingi remained silent as he looked between us and I took a deep breath to try and calm my nerves, to forget everything President Snow had just said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to storm out like that, I—the conversation was rather unpleasant.”

“Yes, it usually is with him.” Yunho said with a chuckle and grabbed Mingi’s arm as he nodded towards the end of the corridor, “But I don’t think we should discuss that here out of all places.”

That managed to bring a small smile to my lips and I nodded in agreement as I turned to head down the corridor. The two men caught up with me and walked next to me with Yunho in the middle.

“The whole place is full of cameras, Yunho, it doesn’t matter where we talk about it,” Mingi grumbled and Yunho shrugged, glancing at me.

“Well, yes, but I think Snow finds it more exciting if we talk about him ‘behind his back’, you know?” His tone was amused and I felt my tense muscles ease a little as we started descending the stairs. Something about Yunho was calming, he had an air about him which made you feel at ease. I was glad he was here even though I had no idea who he was minutes ago. His Games weren’t as popular as the other ones so people tended to gloss over him, even though now I could recall them.

“Thank you for waiting for me, you didn’t have to,” I spoke up as we arrived at the bottom of the stairs and the two tall men faced me with smiles on their faces. Mingi’s was miniscule but it was there as Yunho just shrugged and threw an arm around the other one, and I watched with surprise as Mingi didn’t flinch nor look uncomfortable with the touch. They seemed to be familiar with each other.

“Sure, it was no biggie.” The way Yunho spoke wasn’t familiar, but I welcomed it as his whole persona felt safe and friendly, “If you want a good hiding spot, you’ll find Mingi and me behind the sweets table.”

Mingi rolled his eyes but didn’t interject and only nodded, eyes lowering, “Yunho has a sweet tooth, but it’s a surprisingly good hiding spot. Everyone is too busy looking at all the delicacies to notice us.”

I chuckled and nodded, grateful for their friendliness and offer of a good hiding spot, I happened to also have a sweet tooth, “Thank you, I might as well just go now and—”

“Excuse me,” A voice I knew too well spoke up from behind me and I stiffened, eyes averting when Mingi and Yunho shared a look, “Do you mind if I steal Miss Kwon for a dance?”

“Not at all!” Yunho said beaming and patted Mingi’s back before they both bowed their heads and hurried away, Yunho whispering to Mingi furiously as Mingi just shook his head. I let my eyes follow the two until I couldn’t see them anymore, Snow’s words echoing in my mind when I felt a gentle hand wrap around my bicep. I flinched and then hated the look of hurt and confusion on San’s face as he turned me around to face him, lowering his head as I avoided looking into his eyes.

“Talk to me, Y/N, what happened?” He whispered softly and my jaw clenched, skin burning where he touched me. I yearned to hold him, to step closer and close the gap between our bodies, but Snow was watching. Everyone was watching.

“Nothing.” I lied and finally looked into San’s sharp eyes which were filled with worry. His hand slowly slipped from my bicep, tracing my skin, and I shivered as he found my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine. I refrained from pulling away, Joohyun’s warning echoing in my head, I couldn’t cause a scene. Not here and not right now.

“Will you dance with me?”

“Yes.”

When I was with San it felt like the world disappeared around us, like nobody but him and I existed. It was a peaceful feeling, but also frightening. I could lose myself in his eyes and then I would lose track of everything around myself. It was daunting, but also a feeling which filled me with hope and warmth, making my heart beat faster. I couldn’t focus on the crowd as San walked us towards the orchestra, couples dancing all around as they laughed and conversed, paying little attention to San’s and my presence. My skin flared when San smiled softly and gently held my waist, guiding me closer to his broad body, his features relaxed despite my own tense muscles. Even though I couldn’t peel my eyes off him, I was rather aware of all the people that surrounded us, of the whispers and pointed fingers towards us. I suppose dancing with your stylist wasn’t a foreign thing to do, but said stylist was Choi San, of course, the whole world watched on curiously, making assumptions and pointing fingers.

“Focus on me, my love.” San’s voice was barely a whisper, mindful of all the eager ears surrounding us as a couple came rather close. I couldn’t nod but I offered him my hand as I placed my other one on his shoulder, his sheer shirt’s fabric rough against my skin. He held me firmly as a soft smile appeared on his lips, feet taking off as he led the dance, whirling me around with an ease that surprised even me. People made way for us as I stared up into San’s eyes, my heart thumping so fast it felt like I was on the verge of fainting. But I knew I wasn’t, I was aware that I felt like this because of San, because he was here, looking at me deeply with a gentle smile on his lips, ignoring everyone else around us, holding me close as if he was afraid I’d disappear if he didn’t. His cologne was sweet and had become a familiar scent by now, I couldn’t help but lower my head until I was able to inhale it, muscles finally softening as the ringing of my ears finally ceased too and I could focus on the tune of the classical music.

“Where had you gone to? I couldn’t find you.” San’s deep voice carried a hint of worry, and I took a quick look around before looking back up into his eyes.

“President Snow requested to see me,” I answered, bile rising in my throat as suddenly I felt like a jester, here to parade myself around with someone whom I didn’t belong with. President Snow was right. It was clear as day that San and I had nothing in common, that San could never love a person like me. His skin was soft and free of blemish, he smelled sweet like honey and vanilla, and his clothes were of the finest quality. I, on the other hand, had unruly hair and skin that was neither soft nor scar-free, and my clothes looked like they had seen better days. But tonight, due to San’s immense talent, I felt like a princess, like someone worthy to stand in front of him even if it wasn’t real. I failed to notice the quick flash of fear on San’s face as I was lost in my thoughts, but then a squeeze to my waist and a chuckled apology as we almost collided into a couple brought me back to the present.

“Did he say something that felt threatening?” San asked with an amused chuckle, eyebrows slightly furrowed. There was nothing funny about what he had just asked and I knew he realized that when my jaw clenched, and I turned my head away to gaze at the couples around us. Unfortunately, President Snow was out on his balcony, watching the party closely, and our eyes met. The breath caught in my throat and I averted my eyes quickly, looking back at San as I felt myself press harder against him. It was irrational how quickly fear spread through my body, the desperation to keep San close at all costs back, and my fingers fisted his shirt as my eyes shook.

“He—he—San—” And San’s expression fell when he realized his words were true, and his face lowered as he looked at me with panic written all over his features, “He knows, San, President Snow knows that we—he knows.”

I couldn’t say it, my hands shook and my throat felt tight as I tried to take deep breaths. It felt like everyone was watching us, like everyone had a vicious grin on their lips and had their fingers pointed at us, taunting us with words that never left their mouths but my brain didn’t fail to conjure them up still. San made a sudden move and whirled us around so my back was facing President Snow, then, almost with a scowl on his face, he raised his head and stared up. My irrational fear only grew as I whispered his name, afraid of what he’d do next, knowing that President Snow would do something bad to perhaps the both of us. But San just grinned, wide from ear to ear, and then nodded his head in Snow’s direction, almost tauntingly.

“I know that he knows,” His tone was harsh as he looked back down at me and stopped moving, his hand creeping lower until it pressed against my lower back harshly, “And I don’t give a fuck, because if he as much as touches me, the Capitol will turn against him.”

“What about me?” I whispered, aware of how beloved San was by everyone here. But I wasn’t, despite being a victor, I’ll always be just a girl from District 4 from a fisher family.

“If anyone damages anything precious to me, I’ll destroy them.” San’s jaw was set tight as he lowered his head, and for a second, I was afraid he’d kiss me. But his hand slipped from mine and instead, he curled a stray strand around his finger before he pushed it behind my ear, fingers brushing against my jaw as he smiled at me softly, “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Nobody is safe from him, San,” I whispered as San’s face fell, eyes darkening as he averted them and started moving again, albeit paying less attention to those around us. And I couldn’t help but glance back and find President Snow’s eyes narrowed at us before he cocked an eyebrow, making my heart race against my chest as I gulped and faced ahead again, eyes meeting Joohyun’s. She looked displeased as she subtly shook her head at me, and then her cold eyes fell on Yunho as he offered to dance with her, she didn’t turn him down.

We were all just Snow’s pawns, figures on his chessboard he played with when he got too bored of those in his vicinity.

            The bare trees seemed endless as I weaved through between them, frostbite chilling my bones as my thick jacket was undone and the zipper of my sweater was unzipped too, making my chest ache from both the cold and exhaustion. My hiding spot had been discovered when I foolishly fell asleep last night by the small fire I managed to conjure, teeth chattering and fingertips numb to the point I had tears streaking down my face, wondering whether I’d survive another night in the Arena. If the other tributes didn’t get me, then the relenting cold certainly would. And now, in the early hours of the morning with dawn upon the fake horizon, all I could do was flee and pray for a miracle as my pursuers howled and continued taunting me as they sprinted after me, gaining on me each minute.

The axe was heavy in my hand as my feet tangled in the dry weed of the forest floor and I yelped as I slipped and nearly tumbled to the ground, straight into my axe. My heart was thundering in my chest as I gasped for air, whimpering when I realized my mistake as I frantically looked for a hiding spot. Anything would’ve been good at this point, a cave, a fallen lodge big enough to hide my body, or even a tree that I could climb. Being from District 4, where it was always warm and the only thing I had to climb were the ropes of a ship to reach the mizenmast, I was at a great disadvantage compared to the districts that came from familiar scenery. The cold seemed to be the most unbearable thing out of everything, covering my body in constant goosebumps as I yearned for the warmth of the sun and the breeze of the ocean. Each day that passed, however long or short due to the Gamemakers' choices, felt like I was living in hell, feeling like it would never end.

I didn’t consider myself a religious person, but I found myself praying for something, asking for salvation, if there was anyone out there listening to me. And it felt wrong, especially when I had to fight for my life, to think of the one man that’s been plaguing my thoughts ever since I had met him, but if there was a god, I knew it would be him. My eyes fell on a tree large enough to offer shelter and I quickly hid behind its trunk as my chasers gained on me, their mocking louder and louder. My chest was rising and falling rapidly, my hands shook uncontrollably, and my face felt frozen despite the adrenaline that kept my blood fizzling, my cheeks burning from both the biting chill and the fear that coursed through my veins. With numb fingers, I managed to zip my sweater together and felt instant relief even at the little warmth it offered for my exposed chest, but then the voices got louder and I froze, pressing my free hand against my mouth to try and be as quiet as possible as I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Where are you, little fish?” The male voice was amused as it taunted, soft in a way that made me sick to my stomach. I bit my bottom lip to bite back the whimper that threatened to leave it, terrified now that the three career tributes had closed in on me. They were right there, somewhere behind the tree I hid by, “Come on out now, don’t make us look for you.”

“Yes, fishy, we just want to talk.” Despite the warm timbre of the female tribute, my muscles cramped up and my mind screamed at me to take off running again. But they were too close and one of them had throwing knives, I couldn’t outrun three people, not when they had a male with them who was twice my size.

“You are a career tribute too,” The third voice, harsh and impatient, spat out, “so why are you running? We’ve been in the Games for four days now and we’ve been looking for you, but you keep running!”

I gulped, trying to take deep breaths as quietly as possible as my grip tightened around the handle of my axe. They had stopped moving too and were no doubt trying to spot me, and suddenly I was thankful for having a smaller build despite being someone who worked on a ship on the daily. My parents had always wanted a boy who could help out my father and take on the family legacy, and instead, they had a small girl who cried too much and whose skin bruised too easily. But I didn’t want to disappoint them, so I steeled my nerves and went out on the ocean with my father, learning everything I had in order to become a good fisherman. It was hard, and sometimes too demanding for someone who lacked muscle and sheer force, but it taught me that nothing was impossible as long as you had your mind set to it. And when I had been reaped as a tribute for the 73rd Hunger Games, all I could think about was the ocean and how I wasn’t ready to die just yet, not when I hadn’t even fallen in love yet. I had too much to lose yet nothing at all, and when the stylist assigned for my district looked at me with sharp eyes but a simple smile and told me that I could do it, that I could come back to him, that he trusted me and believed in me, some sick and twisted part of me clung to his words like they were my own personal prayer, as if it would save me from my fate, from doom, and the Arena that would kill twenty-three innocent lives.

“We want you on our team, little fish, your score wasn’t impressive but I saw you kill that little boy at the Cornucopia, we know you’re strong.” The male tribute spoke up again, making me inhale as I contemplated my next move, knowing that I just signed myself up for my death.

With a sharp exhale I knew they have heard me, I disclosed my hiding spot willingly, “Fuck you.”

And the next thing I knew was a throwing knife lodged into the bark of the tree, close to my ear as my eyes widened, but the simmering rage was back underneath my skin, making my blood boil as it overshadowed my terror. I wanted to live, I didn’t want to die. I wanted to go home, I wanted to hug my mother and help my father again, I wanted to swim in the ocean and I wanted—I wanted to see San again, I wanted to return to him. I wasted no more seconds as I gripped the handle of the throwing knife again and yanked it out of the tree, twisting around the trunk and sending it hurling mindlessly. I didn’t wait for another reaction as I took off again, thighs burning from exertion and knees aching as the soles of my feet hit the ground with force, propelling me forward more and more. I wouldn’t stop, I wouldn’t look back. More howls and screams followed after me, instructions barked out as the three tributes chased after me, but I wouldn’t stop, I wouldn’t look back. There was a bridge that looked too old not far from here, my only hope lay in that bridge, that it would collapse under their weights if I managed to outrun them and not fall to my death with them.

But at the next turn, a sharp pain shot up from my left calf and I yelped, losing my footing as I tumbled to the ground, twisting and rolling until I hit the side of a boulder. White mist left my mouth as I breathed through it, my axe had fallen somewhere next to me as pain spread through my spine, my left calf pulsing. I dared take a glance at it and sucked in a harsh breath when I realized a throwing knife was lodged deeply into it. I was bleeding, it made my hands shake as I grabbed the handle and bit down on my bottom lip, yanking it out at once before I could chicken out. My pursuers were suddenly around me, surrounding me with wicked grins on their faces and I grit my teeth, looking them dead in the eyes as my fingers tightened around the handle of the throwing knife that didn’t belong to me.

“Sweet girl, what are you going to do now?” The female with a harsh tone, a tribute from District 2, sneered and took a taunting step toward me, “Didn’t they tell you fishes out of water die?”

I scoffed, unamused and pained as my left side ached where I had hit the boulder, but I lifted my chin and surveyed her face, looking for a flicker of regret, but when I found none, I made up my mind for good this time. Fishing gave you a certain precision, you had to know when to throw the net in the water, when to yank it up, where to cut and how to clean the fish of its scales, it was all about timing and making it quick. So, without wasting any more minutes, I rose to my knees as I flung the throwing knife towards the tribute from District 2 and watched as she blinked at me with confusion written all over her face, eyes slowly looking up to her forehead as the knife was lodged perfectly in the middle of it, a scream dying on her lips as she fell forward with a hollow look on her face. Nobody moved and nobody said anything as my chest fell and raised quickly, my pants loud as the male tribute watched with an open mouth, the whisper of her name leaving his lips as the other female screamed out in rage, her eyes furious as she pounced on me without a second of hesitation.

I groaned as my head hit the ground when she pushed me down, and despite having all those weapons on her, her hands curled around my neck in a deathly grip, making my eyes widen as my fingers curled around her wrists, trying to pry them off. The male tribute was saying something behind us, but I couldn’t focus on him as I realized just how quickly the air was leaving my lungs, my body thrashing around as I tried to force the female off me. It wasn’t working and my throat felt like it would be snapped in two as I tried to gasp for air, eyes bulging as the female tribute looked at me with spite, saliva coating her lips as her face was red from the brute force she was using. I couldn’t die, no, I hadn’t gotten this far just to die at the hands of a career tribute. I was desperate too to survive, just like them, but I didn’t taunt those I killed, I didn’t chase them around and mocked them before I finally put them out of their misery. They didn’t deserve kindness or mercy, and I wasn’t going to give it to them.

One hand abandoning the girl’s wrist, my fingers twisted into the hair that was on the side of her head and despite the black spots covering my vision, I mustered up all my power to push her head to the side, crashing it against the boulder. She gasped loudly and her grip around my throat weakened for a minuscule second, I wasted no more time as I yanked her head away and then slammed it back against the boulder, gasping loudly as the air scraped the back of my throat and sent me into a vicious coughing fit, my eyes watering when the tribute’s hands loosened even more. The aggressive air flow made my lungs ache as I coughed even louder, finding more power in my body as I could finally breathe, and I slammed the girl’s head into the boulder once again before pushing her limp body off me. The canon went off two times as I lay on the ground numbly, staring up at the fake sky as I tried to breathe even again, craving water to wash the burn down in my throat.

But if the canon only went off twice, it meant the male tribute was still alive, and as my head snapped up to look for him, his teary eyes fell on me before they steeled, becoming cold and void of emotion. Realizing I couldn’t do anything now but fight, I sprung to my feet despite the state of my body, despite my desperate need to succumb to nothingness. And when my fingers touched the handle of my axe and its familiar weight settled in my hands, reminding me where I was and who I was, my eyes fell on the male tribute with hatred and spite as I staggered on my feet, watching as he also grabbed his weapon. It was shorter than a sword but longer than a knife, and I gulped but didn’t let it deter me. Not even when he came running towards me and I had to dodge his raised arm last minute, realizing frantically how small and easily disposable I was against him.

And as desperation grabbed at my throat, my body shaking in terror but determination as well, I realized something. I wanted to live, I wanted to survive and I wanted to return home, but not to District 4, no, into the arms of the man I had fallen for in the few days I had been at the Capitol, the man who made me look beautiful and desirable for the first time in my life, the man who believed me and begged me to do my best and return to him. I wanted to live for Choi San and I wanted to know what his lips felt like pressed against mine, what his cologne smelled like, and what being wrapped in his big, but comforting, arms felt like. My emotions were conflicting, I wanted to hate him, to curse his name and scream at him—he was from the Capitol, part of the reason why I was forced to live my life in fear each year The Reaping came around, ultimately falling victim for their wicked games—I knew we didn’t belong together, it was shameful to fall for a man like him, but at the same time I couldn’t help but recall the tenderness in his eyes, in his touch, in his words, and I’ve never felt safer, freer and happier.

I wanted to see San again.

With a memory that was hazy and a numb mind, I only came to it when I heard the third canon go off, warm blood dripping from my hands and face, stench unbearable as I crumbled next to the dead body and heaved for air, bile rising in my throat as I vomited whatever little my body had inside my stomach. And I cried as I dragged myself away from the gruesome scene, now four innocent lives hanging over my head, their deaths bloodying my hands and forever burned inside my memories, a weight I could never get rid of. We were all victims in a greater game, and all we could do was endure and continue living, if not for ourselves, then for the lives we had taken.

            Now that the moment I had been waiting for came, I wasn’t so enthusiastic about it anymore. I wanted to go home, of course, I did, but going home meant not seeing San until the next Hunger Games. It meant being separated from the man I had grown attached to in an alarmingly short time, the only man who’d ever managed to make my heart beat faster. I didn’t understand what part of San made me so enraptured with him, and no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t figure it out. It made no sense, it felt twisted and somehow sick too, shameful, but I couldn’t stop myself as my eyes found his, my whole being feeling alive when a small dimpled smile appeared on his face. The makeup team was here to say their last goodbyes and the vast train felt empty without the male tribute I had arrived with. It felt colder and scarier than on our arrival, and I didn’t want to go, not yet. I needed more days, perhaps even weeks, with San. But President Snow’s words were ever present in the back of my mind and his threats frightened me. I knew I had no choice but to live a lowkey life if I wanted my loved ones safe.

“Ah, I always hate this part,” Mingyu said with a sigh, his face fallen, “but we’ll see each other soon, no?”

“For the Victory Tour.” San’s voice was smooth and emotionless, but I noticed the way his eyes didn’t move on from me, the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed with every gulp he took.

“Which will be next month.” Joohyun’s sharp voice cut through as she looked between San and me, her jaw set tight. Hinata just sighed and turned towards my mentor with a sullen face, and to my surprise, Joohyun opened her arms and beckoned her over for a hug.

“Take care,” She said quietly as Hinata stepped back, a tear rolling down her cheek, “We’ll see each other in no time.”

“Please use the facial masks I have given you,” Hinata pleaded as Mingyu offered Joohyun a hesitant hug as well, her petite form disappearing in his huge arms, “Your skin is literally perfect, I’m afraid the salt water will destroy it.”

“It won’t.” A smile played at Joohyun’s lips, but she nodded still, “But I’ll use them, for your peace of mind.”

“Thank you!” Hinata’s eyes lit up and I faced my two makeup artists as they hugged me at once, making me chuckle and shy away when Mingyu ruffled my short hair fondly. San and Joohyun exchanged no words, but an understanding look passed between them before Joohyun sighed, taking a look at her wristwatch.

“The train leaves in fifteen minutes, San.” And to my surprise, I watched as my makeup team and Joohyun walked over to the compartment’s automated door, knowing looks passing their faces.

“See you soon, Y/N, let Joohyun help you wear your facial masks, please!” Hinata seemed to be obsessed with keeping our skin hydrated and moisturized, terms I learned only upon my arrival to the Capitol, and I nodded so that she’d leave with a peaceful heart.

“Take care!” Mingyu called before the doors closed in front of them, leaving San and me alone in the compartment which was bigger than my old bedroom. I interlaced my fingers in front of me and looked at the floor, wanting to say so much yet unable to do so. San moved first, approaching me with hurried steps and I didn’t expect to feel his warm hand cup my cheek and raise my head. His dark eyebrows were furrowed and worry was written all over his face, his skin clear of any cosmetical product. He was glowing underneath the natural light, he looked gorgeous. My body seemed to relax at the close proximity and I nuzzled my face into his palm, turning my head to kiss his wrist as San’s eyes softened, lips downturned.

“I don’t want to go just yet,” I whispered and held San’s other hand, our fingers intertwining.

“We’ll meet soon again,” He tried to reassure us, but it only made me long for him more, even if he was standing right in front of me, “Until then, you have Joohyun and even Finnick to help you if something is amiss. Don’t be afraid, I know your family cannot wait to see you, you’ll be fine, my love.”

“How can I be fine if you’re not there, San?” He gulped hard, jaw clenching as tears sprung into my eyes. The thought of being separated from him sounded excruciating, I really didn’t want to go. I wanted San to hold me, reassure me, and be there for every waking moment of mine, otherwise, it felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“You’ll be, no—I’ll find a way to be there, my love, if not physically, I’ll try to send pieces of myself to you.” He cupped my face as he leaned down, breath ghosting over my face as our eyes bore into each other deeply, “I promise, I won’t abandon you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

“Will you write to me?” I asked in a whisper, feeling a flicker of hope spark in my chest and San licked his lips, his eyes falling on my parted ones.

“I’ll try, I really will.” He whispered and then leaned in, eyes fluttering closed as our lips brushed together, hesitant at first, almost coaxing. I stepped closer and leaned into him, my arms around his torso holding him firmly as my fingers twisted into the flannel white shirt he wore, my body now wrapped in his honey-like cologne. San’s grip turned surer, more secure, as he tilted my head back, our lips moving languidly, taking our time as if we weren’t in a hurry. And for a split second, I managed to forget all my insecurities and fears as San’s whole being consumed mine, his lips moulding perfectly against mine as he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it and kissing me with more fervour. One hand slipping into my hair and fisting the short strands firmly had me keening as I held San’s jaw, the pace of our kiss quickening as he walked me backwards until my thighs were pressing against something hard, forcing my knees to bend slightly as I tried to stabilize myself by a hand behind me, pressed firmly on the surface of the table.

And it felt as if San was trying to steal not just my breath but my soul too when his mouth parted, tongue asking for permission as it swept over my bottom lip. I had never been kissed like this before, neither held nor desired so fervently, and my mind swam in a daze as San’s body pressed against mine, firm and demanding, as my lips parted just slightly, hesitantly. But San’s tongue was insistent as it licked against my teeth and then finally into my mouth as I gasped in the back of my throat, holding onto his broad shoulders when a calloused hand on my lower back made it arch, leaning my upper body back as my lungs burned in a way I never wanted it to end, not painfully but longingly. His tongue was hot and sharp as it glided against mine, alternating between sucking and just simply exploring my mouth, coaxing more sounds out of me as my body started shaking, stimulated in a way it hadn’t been before. I didn’t want us to separate as San pulled slightly away, making me chase after his lips with a desperate need settling deep in my bones, my fingers slipping up to his neck as our lips met again, my fingernails pressing marks into his tan skin. But we didn’t have enough time, we never would, and when my lungs started screaming for air again and San had to pull back, he pressed his forehead against mine, panting loudly while he peppered kisses all over my cheeks—I felt at ease. For the first time in my life, my mind was silent, my body was relaxed, and I felt indestructible.

“I’ll find a way to you, I promise,” San whispered when the train whistled and my heart suddenly lurched into my throat, bringing that deep-rooted desperation back.

“I love you, San.” The words slipped past before I could even ponder on them, making San’s eyes widen as he froze, hands gently holding my waist as he helped me stand up straight. My eyes shook as I stared into his wide eyes, desperate to hear an answer, to hear him say the words back to me, to confirm that he cared for me just as deeply as I did for him.

His swollen red lips pressed against my forehead with a quiet hum and I felt on the verge of tears when I heard the compartment’s door open behind San, his body big as it obscured my view, “I love you too, Y/N.”

His words were quiet but firm, assuring, and definite as he looked me in the eyes with a sad smile, thumb rubbing my cheek when the train whistled again, giving its final warning before it took off. And I wanted him to stay, but I had to let go. San belonged in the Capitol and I didn’t. I was just a simple girl from District 4, our love never to be consumed as it should’ve been from the very beginning. But I found the strength to smile, to hope for a future by San’s side as he detached himself from me, our fingers grazing together still when I stole a swift last kiss from him. Joohyun had her eyes fixated on the floor as she stood by the entrance, but when San walked towards her, she looked up. She seemed tired, the coldness was gone from her eyes, and she looked at us with pity—it hurt.

“Stay safe, Joo.” San patted her cheek before he was out of the compartment, never once looking back. I gulped, eyes falling onto the window as Hinata and Mingyu were now joined by San, a few Peacekeepers standing behind them to ensure everyone’s safety. Tears threatened to gloss over my eyes but I stopped them, fearful that I wouldn’t see San’s face anymore as I hurried towards the window, feeling the train lurch forward. Hinata and Mingyu waved as Joohyun joined me, her lips pulled into a small smile as she waved back, but San just watched with a stoic expression on his face, turning his back when the train lurched forward again, slowly taking off this time. Something in my chest felt heavy as San took off, never once turning back to look at me, taking both Hinata and Mingyu off guard as they looked at the retreating stylist with confused expressions. And when I couldn’t see them anymore, Joohyun’s cold fingers wrapped around my bicep and pulled me away from the window, guiding me towards a couch as my legs finally gave out and I crumbled into the soft cushion, tears rolling down my cheeks.

“The ocean awaits us, Y/N,” Joohyun whispered as I felt her manicured fingers in my hair, gently petting my head, mind lost somewhere as she stared ahead mindlessly. I was finally going home.

3 months later

            Adjusting to the life of a Victor came easier to me than I had expected. My parents welcomed me home with open arms and tearful eyes, holding me as my mother sobbed loudly while my father pressed kisses against my hair, telling me how happy he was that I was standing in front of them once again. I couldn’t tell them all the terror that came with standing in front of them, the mental torture I had endured because I was alive, I just couldn’t. So, I never let them know, that whenever I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see myself but a girl covered in blood from head to toe with a sinister smile on her lips, eyes dazed and hungry to kill. It was a monster staring back at me, not the innocent eighteen-year-old girl I was before I left for the Games. The District welcomed me back warmly as well, with people patting me on the back and congratulating me while Finnick stood with a bouquet in his arms when our train arrived at the station. Joohyun didn’t say much as the Peacekeepers led us towards a tinted car, ushering us inside as then I realized we were headed towards the Victor’s Village. My parents had been moved to the house when I was announced as the winner, apparently. All of my belongings were there, yet my room felt foreign, impersonal.

But over time, I learned to accept this new lifestyle as I slowly started adjusting to the small changes. People now greeted me on the streets, bowing their heads and asking whether they could talk to me when I had a little free time. At the market, everyone seemed to be wanting to buy our catch of the day, leaving the other vendors with grimaces on their faces. It was odd how suddenly everyone wanted my attention, wanted to befriend my parents even, calling us over for dinner or even lunch on Sundays. But I didn’t wish to mingle with those I wasn’t important to before the Games and kept to myself while remaining respectful towards everyone. Joohyun, unsurprisingly, wasn’t around as much, but she checked in every week and would sometimes come knocking on our door late at night, asking whether I would walk with her on the beach. Our walks were always filled with silence and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing and familiar. I was home, I finally felt at ease, away from the prying eyes of the Capitol and the curious people who had no idea what having privacy meant.

Yet still, something was missing. A big part of my heart was constantly aching, yearning, wishing for the one person I couldn’t have. San was in the Capitol, living his life like before, thriving each day as he released a new collection, called ‘The Little Mermaid’. Everyone theorised it was about me, but San denied the gossip and said he was merely inspired as it had been a long time since a tribute he worked with had won the Games. Apparently, San has always wanted to see the ocean, to let his feet sink into the cold and wet sand, lay down on a blanket and let the sun kiss his skin, warming it until he couldn’t bear it anymore and would have to cool down in the cool ocean. I hung onto his every word as he spoke, eyes gleaming and jewellery shining underneath the artificial lights of the studio with a backdrop of the ocean from District 4. I could feel my mother’s eyes on the side of my face as my eyes welled with tears, and unable to take the yearning inside my body, I stormed off before San could finish his interview.

But he had kept his promise. He sent almost every second week something that was his, a little piece of himself. I couldn’t help but look forward to it, anticipating the moment Mr. Yoon would knock on our door late at night, slipping San’s letters through underneath the door. Mr. Yoon was risking his job by receiving San’s letters and delivering them to me, but apparently, the two had grown up together and were good friends. Mr. Yoon became a Peacekeeper at a young age, following his father’s footsteps, and he was doing his best to rise in the ranks. He was granted more freedom due to his father’s status among the Peacekeepers, and he only took advantage of it when it came to delivering San’s letters. I was forever grateful to Mr. Yoon, rewarding him with baked goods whenever we would cross paths at the market or in the square.

Today had been a similar day, my blood was simmering underneath my skin and I had been fidgety all day long, trying to help my mother around the kitchen as it’s been a stormy day and my father and I couldn’t sail out onto the water. Finnick was over too, conversing with Annie in our living room as the TV was on. Apparently, Mags wanted to air out the whole house and sent the two out for a walk, but Annie ended up remembering she hadn’t seen me in a while, so, they decided to stop by. Despite Joohyun having been my mentor, I was closer to Finnick and Annie as they both seemed to understand my heartbreak and unspoken longing. Annie was a young healthy woman, but she wasn’t completely sane anymore, and she needed Finnick by her side at all times. Whenever he had to go to the Capitol, she’d isolate herself and not talk to anyone for days, but surprisingly she had allowed me inside her room one morning when I had made her breakfast together with Mags. She didn’t speak to me, she didn’t look at me and she didn’t get out of bed, but her hand shot out from underneath the blanket and held my wrist for a few seconds, squeezing it. I knew she was there for me in her own way, and I did everything I could to be there for her in my own way.

The house we lived in was massive and clearly too spacious for three people only, so my mother would often invite over either the other victors or our relatives, who had an envious glint in their eyes each time. If only they knew the sacrifices that came with living a lavished life, still controlled by the Capitol, even more so than before.

“Honey, should we add more carrots?” My mother asked with confusion as she stirred the soup, one hand on her hip. I put the knife I was holding down and walked up to her, glancing inside the pot.

“No, unless you plan on having over the whole district?” I raised an eyebrow at her and she chuckled, looking over her shoulder towards where the living room was. Annie was giggling and Finnick’s hushed words were audible but intangible.

“I did invite Mags and Joohyun too for lunch, so maybe I’ll add two more carrots.” My mother mused to herself as I hummed, leaning my hip against the counter. There was a TV in the kitchen too and it was on, volume louder than the one in the living room. Ceaser Flickerman was on, blabbering about whatever hot news that concerned the Capitol, some gossip about victors from Districts 1 and 2 before he mentioned San’s new collection again, talking about a party held not long ago to celebrate his new release. My ears perked up at that as I walked towards the table, grabbing the remote control to give it more volume, eyes glued to the TV as San’s grinning face appeared on it.

He was dressed in loose leather pants and a white, with an intricate design, adorned his torso, pulled in at his waist to make his shoulders seem even broader. His bare arms were kept warm by a thick fur coat that reached his ankles, and big golden necklaces and rings complemented his outfit. His eyebrows were black and sharp, and his dark hair was gelled back too, sharpening his features even more as it gave him a dangerous look. His eye makeup was completely black and his lips weren’t their usual red colour, but a more muted coral. And despite San always wearing jewellery that was big and chunky, his ears were adorned with pearls, giving his whole look an unusual touch. He looked masculine and dangerous, commanding almost, but the pearls decorating his ears somehow softened his features, especially when he laughed or smiled. It was endearing, breathtaking, and hard to look at without feeling my body shake, wanting to crumble to the floor.

Because Snow was a vicious person, San and I never met for my Victory Tour. He wasn’t allowed to come, apparently cooped up with designing ten dresses for President Snow’s niece, rendering him unable to accompany the team for the tour. His designs were sent with Hinata and Mingyu, and Momo, one of San’s apprentices, came as a replacement for him. I knew Snow had done this on purpose, but I couldn’t help but cry when the team came and there was no sight of San, my whole world breaking as my longing only worsened. Being this far away from him had started feeling painful, and I didn’t know for how much longer I could go on like this.

“Would you look at that!” Caesar's shrill exclamation snapped me out of my thoughts as my mother flinched too, glancing over her shoulder in wonder, “That’s Choi San, everyone, look at him!”

His laughter drilled inside my mind as more footage of San was shown as he drank glass after glass of champagne, accepting them from others as they handed it to him, Finnick’s warning ringing in my ears. You weren’t supposed to accept any drink that was handed to you, but perhaps it was different for San because he was from the Capitol too. But the more images flashed across the screen, the hazier his eyes became, his smile wider and lazier, movements sluggish as he danced around women and men, laughing and stealing food playfully off of others' plates. I gulped, my heart thumping loudly when Caesar's smirking face came into view, his microphone held close to his mouth,

“And would you look at that, had our lovely bachelor finally found a sweetheart?” It felt like the world stilled around me when the images shifted and it showed San cradling the face of a woman with fiery red hair, wild and short, face heavily clad in makeup as her eyes were unnaturally yellow. She wore a white dress, barely covering her cleavage as it glinted like diamonds under the lights. She looked at San with awe in her eyes, mesmerized by my stylist as he spoke to her words we couldn’t hear, hiding her further in the corner as he crowded against her body, “Ah, young love, I still remember what it feels like. It’s intense, raw and so rejuvenating, it was about time our beloved San found his match, no? I just hope we can still have him to ourselves from time to time!”

Caesar's shrill laughter echoed in my ears as I felt my blood simmer underneath my skin, ears ringing as my eyes remained glued to the screen where images of San sitting in a chair surrounded by ladies could be seen, even men flaunting around him. My jaw hurt and I hadn’t even realized just how tightly I was clenching it together, my body trembled as uncontrollable rage shook it. I saw red in front of my eyes, so vibrant that it blinded me as I heard something crash loudly, my breaths coming out in loud puffs as I felt the desire to hold something until I broke it with my bare hands, smashing it into tiny bits, destroying it until nothing was left of it. My chest felt tight and my thoughts were jumbled as I heard someone call my name, but I couldn’t focus, I just wanted to—kill. Kill whoever touched San, whoever dared separate us, whoever denied our love. And I knew I could do it, all I had to do was grab a— “Y/N!”

I jumped, gasping loudly for air as I felt my face burning, my eyes wide as I looked around myself, oblivious to my actions. Finnick’s face was contorted in worry as he stood the closest to me, hands held out in front of himself as he kept his distance as if I was a dangerous animal ready to pounce on him.

“Y/N.” My mother’s scared whisper finally snapped me out of my confusion as my eyes frantically surveyed the kitchen, widening when I realized the knife I was using to cut vegetables was now tightly gripped in my hand, held in a way that could easily harm anyone. As if burned by the silver, I released it from my tight grip, letting it clatter to the ground as my eyes settled on the remote control that was now broken into bits and pieces.

“I—” I tried to steady my breathing, but my body shook and I was scared. Scared of myself and of what I would’ve done if Finnick hadn’t managed to snap me out of my crazed thoughts. I wasn’t like this before the Games, something was wrong with me, I was a monster now, “I’m so sorry, I—I didn’t mean to, I—I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It was Annie who spoke up, her voice light and her face surprisingly understanding. She walked inside the kitchen, avoiding the broken remote control as she passed Finnick and nodded at my mother, “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Her words hit hard, breaking the wall surrounding my mind and the emotions I tried to keep intact all this time, especially in front of my parents. I wanted to cry, to sob, but no sound left my mouth as Annie’s arms came around me, holding me tightly against her. I wanted to react, to scream, break more things, but I was numb and unable to move as she started humming a song I didn’t know. My mother had tears in her eyes when I looked at her but she didn’t look disgusted or afraid, she just looked like she didn’t know what to do as she turned her back to me, hunching over the counter as she continued to cry. I let Annie hold me as Finnick kneeled and gathered the broken pieces of the remote control, grabbing the knife too as he went over to my mother to offer her a side hug, muttering something to her quietly.

“You’re not broken even if you think you are.” Annie’s words seemed to only cut deeper into my heart as she had an absent look on her face when she finally detached herself from me, “If you give in to the monsters crawling inside your head, it means Snow wins. Don’t let him win, Y/N, you’re stronger than that.”

I nodded wordlessly as Annie smiled brightly and genuinely for the first time since I had known her. Finnick watched her closely, eyes holding affection, only making me remember San and the warmth of his eyes, of his embrace. I missed San, so much, and it felt like I broke apart a little bit more each day we spent apart. My mother wiped at her cheek with the sleeves of her blouse and continued cooking like nothing had happened, asking Finnick to set the table. The rain had stopped hours ago and my father had left for the market, he was supposed to return any time now for lunch. As I wanted to walk over to my mother and apologize, the bell of the front door rang twice. My heart leapt into my throat and I raced towards it, disregarding Finnick and Annie’s confused looks. It was Mr. Yoon, San’s letter had arrived. Nobody besides my mother knew that I was exchanging letters with somebody from the Capitol, and it was supposed to stay like that. I grabbed the letter off the floor and paid no attention to the rest of the people as I raced up the stairs towards my room, tearing the envelope apart as my hands shook with anticipation, eyes running over San’s familiar handwriting. It was elegant and beautiful, just like him.

My love,

I shall tell you this each time I write to you, even if it hasn’t changed, but I miss you dearly. I dream of you nightly and I fantasize about you daily. I miss your laughter, your pouty red lips, your eyes full of wonder and love, your skin which glints under the lights like they were meshed with gems. I miss your flowery scent, the gentleness of your touch, and the adoration in your eyes whenever you as much as glanced at me. Sometimes I miss you so much that I lose myself in my thoughts, in my memories, for hours on end, thinking about you, about your day, wondering how you are doing and what you are thinking of. Unfortunately, I still haven’t found a safe way for you to write back to me, and I know it must be so much harder for you than it is for me, but please wait for me. I’m looking for ways, searching endlessly to find a way to hear your words too, but at least I sleep assured knowing that my letters reach you, that I can fulfil my promises.

I haven’t been sleeping much lately, but fear not, I am well, I’m just trying to keep up with the deadlines. I wanted my new collection to come out before this month ends because summer doesn’t last forever and it’s themed after you, yes, my little mermaid. I know you hate the nickname, but to me, it’s like having a little part of you with me, just like what the letters are for you. I don’t know when this letter will finally reach you, hopefully before the Capitol shows anything of my collection and of the after-party, but know that every single pearl adorning my body was imported from District 4, specifically from your family. I know you love to collect pearls, you’ve told me so multiple times, so I asked my dear friend Yoon Jeonghan to only buy those that have been yielded by your hands, this way it’s even more meaningful, more personal. I wish the pearls could carry the warmth of your hands until they reach me, letting me feel you despite the distance between us. This whole collection…it’s to show my devotion to you, to tell you that I am yours and that I cannot wait to see you. I miss you, Y/N, but I have told you that already. I do not know when we’ll meet again, but just know that no man, status, rule or distance can keep us separated for much longer. Times are changing, my love, I can feel it in the air. Something is brewing and I’m afraid once it hits us, it won’t be pretty. I do not wish to wait around for it to happen, but I cannot disclose anything else, I’m afraid. I do not wish to put you in danger if this accidentally ends up in the wrong hands, although I trust my dear friend, Jeonghan. Before I end my thoughts, I shall ask you to ignore everything you might see or hear through the TV, whatever Caesar Flickerman and the other anchors speculate, they are not true. I do not care for anyone else but you in this world, and whatever you see is for publicity, it’s because I must keep up a front. If I didn’t, it would raise suspicion, it would sabotage me from seeing you before the next Games. Have faith and a little trust in me, even if I’m not deserving of it, I promise nobody owns my heart like you do.

I shall end my letter here, sitting by my window under the lamplight, wishing for you to be by my side. I hope the victors and your parents treat you well, and that Joohyun didn’t shut herself away from you like she usually does with everyone. It might not seem so, but the two of us are friends, and I worry about her frequently. Finnick is an honourable man too, I know he’ll take care of you if hardship arises, perhaps let him know when you can that the marigolds were prettier this year than last. Of course, do not say I have told you this, just let it slip during one of your conversations. I must go now, but remember, I love you. Until we shall meet,

Your beloved,

Choi San.

            Every muscle burned as I tried to lift the fork, even my fingers felt like they weighed kilos. My chest ached and despite my stomach growling, I couldn’t seem to gulp my food down, the orange juice in the cup by my hand my only hope as it washed down the unchewed food I still forced inside my mouth. It was sickening and I tried not to look disgusted as everyone seemed to be enjoying their dinner. Today had been horrible, it’s been only the second day of training, but I already knew that I wouldn’t survive past the second day in the Games. I had watched the other tributes, specifically those from Districts 1 and 2, and concluded that if I came face to face with them in the Arena, I’d beg them to kill me fast so that I could go painlessly. It was a frightening thought and it made my whole body shake as I somehow veered away from them and tried to learn something new, something I wasn’t good at to ensure my survival even if for just a little longer.

The table had been silent at the beginning, but the male tribute who sat to my left had spoken up about how he learned how to correctly hold throwing knives and was thinking of choosing those as his main weapons. The mentor in charge of him, not Finnick Odair as apparently Snow didn’t let him partake in the Games this year, was sceptical of Jisung’s, the male tribute, weapon of choice and told him to go for something bigger and stronger. My mentor, Bae Joohyun, just sat in silence as she ate the bloody beef on her plate, her lifeless eyes glancing up from time to time when her mentor partner would crack insensitive jokes about all the children that died in the Arena and would keep on dying. Jisung was just a child too, barely sixteen years old, but he didn’t react to the comments, only placed more meat on my plate despite me not touching it. The makeup team and the stylist stayed over for dinner tonight after they took our measurements and discussed with us what we wanted to wear for the parade.

The stylist, Choi San, was unlike any man I had seen before. He was intimidating and cold, his small eyes were sharp and bore into yours with an alarming intensity. Whenever I looked at him, he was already looking at me with a blank expression on his face, but his eyes felt like they could read my mind, like he could see right inside it and tell just how scared I was. I couldn’t hold his gaze for too long, shy, and also slightly animus towards him since he was from the Capitol. It was very obvious he lived a lavished lifestyle, his clothes expensive and his cologne sweet and strong. He also had no shame as he wore a mesh shirt, completely see-through and showing off the nipple piercings he had in both buds, a cross necklace hanging between his well-built pecks. His shoulders were broad and yet his waist was small, he wasn’t the tallest man but he still towered over my smaller form. He was breathtaking and I felt ashamed whenever my eyes strayed towards him, looking and admiring him, wondering what type of person he was underneath all that makeup and the pompous clothes.

“Well, Y/N,” One of the stylist’s apprentices spoke up suddenly, her name was Jurin, “Why aren’t you eating? You are already very thin.”

Silence settled upon the table and my muscles stiffened as I felt put on the spot, but she just continued, “There’s no reason to fit in your clothes if you cannot lift a simple sword to protect yourself in the Arena.”

“Can you lift a sword?” I didn’t mean to snap, I didn’t even want to answer her, but my fatigue and waves of nausea got the better of me, tipping me over the edge as I looked at her expression full of judgment, her purple eyes narrowed.

“I’m not required to lift one,��� Her tone was snobby, I watched as my stylist lowered his fork from his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he turned his head to look at Jurin, “but I probably could, if I had to.”

“Why don’t you go into the Arena, then, Jurin?” I asked with a wide smile, letting my fork and knife clatter against my plate loudly. Tense silence fell over the table as Jisung curled into himself, Joohyun’s glare was sharp as she looked towards Jurin, and Jisung’s mentor only chuckled, throwing back a shot of whiskey.

“Because I’m not a disposable rag.” That said everything about the people from the Capitol, about what they thought of us, how they viewed us. It was enough to make my blood boil as I pushed my chair back, standing up with a clenched jaw. Choi San’s fork clattered against the plate loudly too as his head whipped around, eyes glaring at his apprentice.

“Not yet, anyway.” I hissed, eyes narrowing into slits as Jurin paused, one eyebrow raising in a taunt, “Your cakey makeup will eventually melt your face off, and all those fake things on you that you call beautiful? Yeah, they’ll make you look like a rag at some point, not that you don’t look like one already—”

“How dare you!” Jurin screeched as she raised her knife, springing up to her feet with an appalled expression. Joohyun scoffed with an irritated look on her face and eyed the other woman, her tone eerily calm.

“Sit down before I make you, wench.” Jurin screeched again as if the world was ending, and despite how unwell I was feeling, it satisfied me to hear my mentor defend me against the delusional and disrespectful woman.

“You disgraces think that—”

“Enough!” I flinched when the stylist’s voice boomed, making tears spring into Jurin’s eyes. She looked at San as if she was betrayed, then she started sobbing loudly as she slammed her chair onto the floor while turning around to storm out of the dining hall. Poor Jisung sat frozen, and I gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as his mentor started laughing loudly, eyes falling on Jisung.

“See? I told you women are sensitive, all you have to do is comment about their appearance in the Arena, and they’ll turn against each other without you doing anything.”

“Not now, Jongin.” Joohyun hissed as Jongin chuckled, holding his arms up in mock innocence. With my stomach churning and bile rising to my throat, I took a shaky breath and lowered my eyes, feeling ashamed and on the verge of throwing up. The makeup artists looked like they didn’t know how to react, the tall guy called Mingyu was mid-bite as he shared a confused look with the blue-haired girl, Hinata.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be in my room,” I muttered under my breath as I bowed my head and took off, pressing my hand against my mouth as I took deep breaths, rushing towards my room. The doors were automated and they opened by themselves as I reached the end of the corridor, taking off into a sprint as I felt like I’d throw up anytime now. My mind was a jumbled mess and my emotions were all over the place. I was terrified, and I didn’t know what to do anymore to become the strongest, the smartest. I had no idea how to become appealing to the Capitol so that they’d sponsor me and help me survive, I had no idea whether I was capable of killing or not.

My knees ached when I finally reached the toilet and kneeled rather harshly, heaving but not throwing up. My mind was only torturing my body, proving just how weak I was, incapable of doing anything to save myself. After flossing my mouth and washing my face with cold water, I tied my short hair in a low ponytail and headed back to my room to change into my pyjamas, however, I halted when I realized someone was inside my room. A frightened gasp left my mouth and the figure whirled around, looking sheepish as his hand slowly pushed the little notebook I brought with me away from him. It was something my mother had made for me. Ever since I was born, she’d note down my days, she’d draw for me in it, and tell me how she had felt that day. It was heartwarming and sweet, it brought me comfort when I was terrified and saw no light at the end of the tunnel.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry or enter your room without permission, but I—” My stylist, San, gulped nervously, “I was worried about you. You barely ate anything and you look sickly, is something wrong?”

I released a shuddered breath and leaned back against the closed door of the adjacent bathroom, “I’m terrified.”

My words hung heavily between us as San gulped again, looking at the floor before he slowly looked back up at me, into my eyes, “What Jurin had said…I apologize. She’s spoiled and very insensitive, you shouldn’t listen to her.”

“And you shouldn’t apologize for her.” I muttered as my arms circled my torso, holding myself to bring a little comfort, “But thank you…San.”

He sighed loudly, licking his lips as he took a tentative step towards me, making me freeze. Jurin had been the one to take my measurement while San stood back and watched, noting down the numbers, sometimes instructing Jurin where to measure again and which body parts to skip. I could feel my heart slowly quicken, flushing my cheeks a light red colour as San walked closer and closer.

“I’m sorry you have to be here,” Before I could tell him that it wasn’t directly his fault, he continued with a big inhale, “I’m sorry I can’t do anything to stop this from happening. Jisung is barely sixteen years old and you are eighteen, you’re both so young, and all I can do is dress you up to make you look desirable for the Capitol. I’m a horrible person, but I—I want them to see how gorgeous you are, Y/N, I want them to look at you and want you to win. I want them to fall in love with you and root for you, and I want—I want you to return to me. I believe in you, I can see it in your eyes, the way you move and think, you’re strong, Y/N, let Joohyun coach you and you will live, I know you will.”

My eyes were round as I stared up at San in surprise as he came to a standstill in front of me, eyebrows deeply furrowed and voice raspy as he took a big breath, gulping as his hands curled and uncurled at his sides. I didn’t understand where this was coming from, but I felt my heart race as I stared at San dumbfounded, arms dropping from around my torso as I gulped, slowly nodding my head.

“I—I’ll do my best,” I whispered, unsure of what I was supposed to say as San’s eyebrows furrowed more, face contorting into an emotion I couldn’t read. His left hand reached out, but he stopped before it could touch me.

“May—may I hug you?” He asked quietly, lowering his head so that I couldn’t look into his eyes anymore. My eyebrows raised in surprise and I froze, confused, but not opposed to the idea. I nodded slowly, trying to relax when he grabbed my arm and gently guided me towards himself, his sweet cologne engulfing my senses as my eyes fluttered closed, taken aback by his warmth as San’s arms circled my shoulders and pressed my head into his chest. He released a shaky breath as I stood in his arms, frozen, heart racing in my chest as I slowly raised my hands, hugging him around his middle. I hadn’t been hugged like this before, not by anyone who wasn’t my father, and yet, this embrace felt different. It was charged with something I couldn’t name yet, it felt warm and full of silent promises that I didn’t fully understand. And when San’s lips pressed against the top of my head, I understood that this ran deeper, that he needed me to return to him, that he was here because he couldn’t go back to his apartment without telling me all of that. And I knew it was wrong that I was letting him hold me like this, he was from the Capitol and he was just like the others, probably, but I couldn’t help but melt into his arms, a small smile grazing my lips.

That is until I heard the slash of something, warm and red liquid dropping onto my head until it slowly started streaming down my face, getting into my eyes, nose, and lips. I gasped and tried to pull myself out of San’s embrace, but his arms only tightened around me and a very familiar cackle could be heard behind him. He was too big and I couldn’t see past his shoulders, but when his arms finally fell limp and I pushed him backwards, a scream ripped through my throat. The front of my clothes was coated in blood—in San’s blood and the person who still held onto the handle of the axe that was lodged into his skull was—me.

“Y/N!” The alarmed voice that called my name made another scream freeze in my throat as I gasped, eyes flying open. My heart was beating frantically and it was pitch dark inside the room, only instilling more fear into me as I grasped for whoever was inside the room with me, gasping and yelping when warm arms grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up into a sitting position, “Y/N, it’s me, it’s okay now, shh.”

I was crying, I realized as I buried my face into my mother’s chest, letting the sobs wrack my body as I clung to her, her hands patting my back and shushing me as she rocked us back and forth. I could still feel San’s blood coating my body, the smell nauseating and its taste even worse as it got into my mouth when I screamed. What was a memory, something that had happened, was twisted by my sick mind and turned into a nightmare, into something I would’ve never done to San.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” My mother muttered into my hair as my sobs turned into hiccups, “you never said anything so I thought you were fine, I’m so sorry for not noticing it. I’m here, I’m always here for you, and so is your father, Y/N, you can tell us anything.”

I sniffed loudly as I raised my head and hugged my mother tightly, resting my head on her shoulder. She let out a loud sigh and hugged me back just as tightly, pressing a kiss against my temple, “I didn’t want you to worry. I can carry this burden on my own, mom, I didn’t want you to see the monster I had become—”

“You’re not a monster, my baby.” My mother’s voice broke and she pulled back, holding my head as she looked me in the eyes. I could see her now that my own eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and her eyes were filled with tears as I continued to sniff loudly, “You are courageous and smart. You did what every other victor had done before, Y/N, you’re not a monster. I love you, your father loves you, nothing can change that, ever.”

I sniffed and nodded, her words soothing despite the storm still raging inside my mind. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, the longing was too much, the memories and my actions were haunting me. I felt incomplete without him here, I was slowly breaking more and more, “I’m in love with San, mom.”

“With Choi San?”

“Yes, I love him.”

“Oh, my baby,” A sad smile crossed my mother’s features, “It’s okay, it’s okay. Come here.”

And she released me as she crawled further onto the bed, pulling the covers back as she got underneath them, laying on the empty side of my king-sized bed. She opened her arms and smiled softly as I turned towards her, pulling the covers over our bodies as I let her hug me and lull me back to sleep with her soft singing.

I never saw Jurin again after that evening.

            A week passed since my confession and nothing has changed, proving my fears fruitless. My mother never brought up the subject again, she didn’t tell my father either, but she did ask one evening while we watched the sunset from our back porch whether the letters I kept receiving were from San. She looked worried, like she wanted to advise me against meddling with San, but she knew too that it was too late for that now. I was in love with San, nothing could change my heart’s desires anymore. It was saddening how badly I was taking his absence. I had started seeing his face in others, hearing his voice when he wasn’t even there, trying to recall his touches only to panickedly realize they weren’t as vivid anymore. It was horrifying how quickly my thoughts were spiralling, sending me into something I would call depression. I didn’t want to see anyone anymore, yet Joohyun’s presence brought me comfort. Perhaps it was because she had been there for me, watching out and helping me during my Games, perhaps it was because she had seen me and San together, a reminder that it wasn’t just something my mind had made up.

And despite how obvious it was that I wasn’t doing well, my parents never left my side, not even when I yelled at them to leave me alone. They were understanding and as loving as ever, and they didn’t let me wallow in misery. Today I had little to no force or willpower to get out of bed, but my mother needed a few vegetables and my father was out on the ocean, sailing his boat without me. I had to go to the market whether I liked it or not. The cacophony of the place was disorienting and the sun was too hot today, making it hard to breathe as I tried to avoid crashing into anyone. The basket hung from my arm as I paid the vendor for the eggplants I had bought, and feeling self-conscious, I let my eyes survey the market. Something felt amiss, like eyes were constantly following me. Many people looked at me given that they knew who I was, but there was one set of eyes that remained on me constantly, watching from the shadows, from someplace I couldn’t see. My heartbeat picked up as I thought about the worst-case scenario. Maybe San had been caught, his letters were found, and now whoever President Snow had sent after me was here to torture my family and me.

I tried to remain calm as I hurriedly left the market, hoping that the insistent eyes would go away, but as I rushed through the busy cobbled streets of the District, I realized someone was following me now. I gulped and tried to find a path that was fast yet intricate so that my pursuer wouldn’t be able to keep up with me. It felt like I was back in the Arena, chased and mocked, reminded of how fragile I was, of how easily I could lose my life to others who were bigger and more powerful. I took a left turn, breaking off into a sprint when I heard footsteps echo behind me, and realized the streets were becoming deserted as it was noon and nobody was outside unless they were headed for the market. I didn’t dare look back as I turned onto an alleyway, gripping the basket firmly as I ran down the narrow pathway, turning to my right as I had foolishly forgotten that it was a dead-end. My chest fell and rose quickly, making me stop in the middle of the alley as I was forced to face my mistake.

The footsteps came to a stop behind me and my muscles tensed up, my jaw gritting as I gripped the basket’s handle tighter, wondering whether I could use it to defend myself. If I hurled it at my chaser, then maybe I could escape while they were too busy dodging the heavy basket. Realizing that I had been through worse in the Arena, I took a deep breath and then swiftly turned around, ready to throw my basket towards the person, until I realized who stood in front of me. I froze, eyebrows furrowing and my mouth falling open the longer I looked at the man facing me, breathing hard from having had to chase me. He looked nothing like the stylist I had met in the Capitol all these months ago. He wore simple beige trousers and a white shirt which was buttoned down to the middle of his chest, which was glistening with sweat due to the hot air of District 4. His black hair fell over his forehead, some strands falling into his sharp eyes. His face was devoid of any makeup and he looked like any other man, blending in well with those from District 4, his complex tan and beautiful.

Basket tumbling to the ground, I didn’t even notice my legs take off without my command, carrying me towards San as I leapt into his arms, gasping when our bodies collided together. He was real, he was here. San was in District 4, holding me tightly against his body as my arms circled his neck, thighs squeezing his hips as my ankles hooked together. He still smelled the same, still as sweet and honey-like, his skin was hot and his embrace warm as San staggered for a second, his hands fisting my blue dress as one of my hands tangled into the soft hair on the back of his head.

“My love.” His voice was low, but still warm and filled with longing, with care, “Oh, Y/N, I have missed you—so much.”

His voice broke at the same time my tears fell down my cheeks and I thought I couldn’t hold him tighter, but I did as I pulled my head back just enough to press kiss after kiss against his neck. San shuddered against my body, his chest rising and falling rapidly as I felt my mind settle, my thoughts finally silent, and my heart void of the ache and longing I have felt ever since we parted ways.

“San.” My voice broke as he pulled his head back until we could look into each other’s eyes and I didn’t wait any longer, I crashed our lips together as San groaned, holding me even tighter against himself. I didn’t care who happened to see us, I didn’t care if we were caught as our lips moved frantically, insatiable, and desperate to press together more and more and more. I whined when our tongues met, and it felt rushed and painful when our teeth clinked together, but I didn’t care because I was in San’s arms—San was here, with me. Our breaths were ragged when we finally parted, foreheads pressed together as my eyes remained closed, just drinking in the emotions swirling in my chest, so powerful that it felt like my heart was about to burst, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” San answered before I even finished my sentence and I opened my eyes, unable to let go of him yet, but he didn’t seem to mind as he adjusted his grip around me, holding me more comfortably.

“How—just—what are you doing here?” My mind was reeling with scenarios, I needed an answer. I had to know that everything was alright, that President Snow hadn’t done anything to him.

“It doesn’t matter how,” San’s eyebrows furrowed and mine did too when I realized he looked anxious, “but we can’t stay here for any longer.”

I nodded, gulping, “Of course, let’s go to my house, it’s safer—”

“No, Y/N.” San’s voice was serious, sharp, as he shook his head, “We can’t stay in District 4 and we can’t stay in the Capitol either.”

“What do you mean?” I asked in a whisper, feeling dread take over my body as San carefully lowered me to the ground, cupping my cheeks as he raised my head. My hands held onto his arms as I looked up into his warm eyes, now filled with worry and unease.

“I broke many rules while coming here, I…” He sighed and bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes for a split second, “I disobeyed Snow’s orders. If he finds us, he’ll kill you as a way of punishing me—or worse, he’ll kill me and your family to make you hurt knowing it would hurt me more than anything that I left you on your own—”

“I don’t understand,” I shook my head, cutting San off, “Where can we go if we—we’ll die, San, it doesn’t matter—”

“No, Y/N, you have to listen to me.” He gulped and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, voice shaking slightly as he continued, “I know it will sound crazy, but District 13 wasn’t destroyed by the Capitol. We can—we must go, I have it arranged already. Do you trust me, my love?”

“I do, San, of course, I do, but—” I gulped, feeling uncertain, “This sounds impossible, it’s crazy. If we get caught, we’ll both—”

“We won’t get caught.” San’s tone held determination, like he was completely sure that we wouldn’t get caught, “Jeonghan is coming with us, we have a boat waiting for us, he can get us out. I have spoken to President Coin, District 13th’s leader, she’s waiting for us. We can do it, Y/N, please. I’m sick of Snow, I’m sick of the Capitol, I just want to live the rest of my life with you by my side, happy, and free. Come with me, my love.”

A free future, a future where President Snow couldn’t control us anymore, tell us what to do or separate us from each other. A future where I could be by San’s side, far away from the scrutinising eyes, from the people who would never approve of our relationship. I was in love with San, so much so that I couldn’t bear the thought of letting him leave me behind. I couldn’t live without him anymore, I couldn’t let him walk away again, I couldn’t be on my own anymore, surrounded by people who would never understand me like San does. He believed in me, he cheered me on, he knew I could return—he loves me.

“Okay,” I whispered, nodding my head as San’s eyes widened as if he had thought I wouldn’t go with him, “Yes, I will go with you, my love. I trust you.”

San’s whole face lit up at my words and the biggest smile I have ever seen on his face appeared, eyes filling with tears as he pulled me into his arms, his embrace tight and suffocating. Just like his love for me.

“I love you so much that it hurts, Y/N.” San said as he released me, intertwining our fingers, “The boat leaves in an hour, we can’t take too many things with us, but maybe a few—”

“No.” I shook my head, smiling at him, “I have everything I need right here, in front of me.”

A tear rolled down San’s cheek as I pressed up on my tip toes and kissed it away, pressing our cheeks together as my heart felt like it couldn’t be contained inside my chest anymore, bursting and racing so hard it felt like I was having palpitations while my ears started ringing. And I meant what I had said, San was the only thing I needed, nothing and nobody else. Our eyes met as San pressed a kiss against our intertwined fingers, the basket long forgotten on the ground as we rounded the corner, headed towards the port where Jeonghan was waiting for us on our getaway boat,

“May the odds be ever in your favour.” ~ Suzzane Collins.

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[hueseok]

( 01. ) GOOD GRACES.

kim seokjin doesn’t believe in luck. he’s someone who knows that in order to have good things coming your way, you have to work damn hard for it. however, that might not be the case when it comes to bad luck, because after a video of him goes viral wherein it looks like he’s screaming at someone’s grandma, he begins thinking maybe luck does exist—and it just so happens that he’s now being subjected to a lot of unluckiness.

he’s being cancelled. his career is getting destroyed. his manager is forcing him to take a hiatus. and on top of that, as if things could not get worse, the only hope he has on redeeming everything he worked hard on depends on you, the director’s daughter of the theater show that could propel him back to where he used to be.

that should have been a piece of cake. if only you weren’t his ex who he dumped via phone call and got threatened by to never show his face to ever again...

pairing: seokjin x reader

word count: 4.2k

rating: NC-17

content: fluff, light angst, humor, exes to enemies to friends to lovers au | ft. theater actor!seokjin + himbo energy!seokjin lmao, podcaster!reader + nepo baby!reader

warning/s: lots of swearing | lots of internal monologue by seokjin? lmao

[ chapter index. ]

EPISODE 01. there are worse things i could do !

seokjin never thought that the downfall of his career would happen because of a misconstrued video of him going viral where he was apparently yelling at a poor old lady in a grocery store.

but here he is, getting canceled on twitter and being informed by his manager that he was taken off the projects he was scheduled to do for the upcoming year, the brands who were once so keen on getting him on board suddenly backtracking and terminating the previously signed deals that were already discussed.

regardless of how he tried convincing yikyung, the said manager, that he wasn’t actually fighting the woman who was probably the same age as his grandmother on that short clip—and that all of this was just a stupid a misunderstanding, he’s told it’s too late. the public already made up their mind; they all hated him, and there were several gossip blogs publishing articles that had ‘receipts’ of his apparent bad and diva behavior over the span of his career.

“look, namjoon and I are working on it,” yikyung says, explaining that the PR and legal team are already in the midst of taking care of the whole problem. “but for the meantime, the best you can do is lay low for a while, buddy.”

“what?” seokjin exclaims. “are you saying—”

“you’ll be going on a hiatus.”

“hiatus,” he repeats, enunciating every syllable like he heard it wrong. he feels like he’s going to vomit, the whole room he’s in right now spinning before his eyes.

“yes. hiatus.”

god, seokjin hates that word. he’s been working his ass off since he knew how to act and sing and was the absolute fucking best at it. and now they’re putting him on a hiatus? it’s ridiculous. it’s unfair! he isn’t in some kind of boyband or anything, but he’s pretty sure that they use that term to sugarcoat the fact that the members are quitting the industry or going solo which doesn’t make sense for him so the former category is probably more applicable to his situation at the moment and—

“it’s temporary,” yikyung continues speaking, as if reading what’s going in his mind. “at most, it’ll be a year.”

that still doesn’t calm seokjin down. “you’re benching me for a year?”

“at most.”

“does it really have to be that long?”

“yeah, if we see that it’s necessary enough.”

“i don’t think a year is necessary.”

“we don’t know that yet.”

“but if you keep me away from the public that long… it's going to kill my career!”

yikyung gives him a pitiful look. “it's already dead, jin. let’s be real here.”

he gasps, genuinely offended that his manager would say such a thing. “take that back.”

“look, i’m not happy with this either,” yikyung says, “but the public needs to forget that video. It’s what everybody is talking about, it’s what every director or sponsor that’s asking us about too—nobody would want to associate themselves with your name anyway while the story’s fresh, so this hiatus won’t kill it. doing this hiatus will just induce your career into a coma. you’ll be like sleeping beauty.”

“then who’ll be the fucking prince?”

“a mindblowing project that’ll remind people that you’re the best leading man in the theater world.”

seokjin lets that sink in.

just days ago, he was being blasted with offers to do commercials and new productions due to the successful run of chicago where he portrayed billy flynn. A lot of columns praised his versatility, saying that despite reservations on how he was going to perform, he nailed the part and captured the audience’s hearts with how he made that character his own. it was the biggest ego boost he had in a while considering he was so passionate in bringing billy flynn to life and pulling off the long note he had in we both reached for the gun—now though? all the happiness that he felt before? all the acclaim he reckoned could last him a good few months to stay motivated in doing this? it’s being buried to the ground; he feels as if everything is crashing down and every good thing in his life is fading away.

guess it’s true that being too happy can cause too much sadness after.

“a year goes by so fast, you know,” yikyung tells him. “keep yourself busy. pursue other hobbies. the next time i’ll call you, i’ll make sure it’s about an offer that’ll jolt your career awake again.”

and so with no other choice, really… that’s what seokjin did.

he decides to follow yikyung’s advice and take a train back to his hometown with the plan to help his aunt run the small grocery business she had, residing there until circumstances appear better for him. he figures this break might be better than he thinks, taking into account the fact that he’s been working nonstop since he began landing solid roles years ago. maybe a restart is what he needs; maybe he can use this as an excuse to do other stuff and pursue other hobbies like he was suggested to do.

in the first month of his forced hiatus, he becomes some kind of apprentice at his aunt’s mentioned grocery store. he meets taehyung, a young man who looks way too handsome to be only arranging packed and canned goods in the aisles of the shop as another helper of his aunt; taehyung also apparently recognizes him, asking if he’s that “theater star harassing an old lady” he kept on seeing on tiktok which seokjin’s always quick to correct. taehyung never looks convinced though, regardless of how much seokjin explains, but he at least doesn’t treat him shit for some groundless scandal.

then in his second month, he begins to try pottery. there are classes for it in the same town, a 10-minute drive away and the instructor happens to be a family friend. however, after five sessions, he realizes that he’s horrible at the task and can’t produce anything that’s worth selling or admiring even. that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy it though, ‘cause he does, and he still attends each class or goes on his own for the following months to use this activity as catharsis.

for the third month, he starts painting; on the fourth, he volunteers to walk the golden retriever that an elderly couple neighbor has; when the fifth month comes, he begins jogging around the area, continuing that until the sixth and seventh as he progresses to running—and then on the eight month, while he’s tending to the crops he’s growing at his aunt’s backyard, he finally gets the call from yikyung that he always pretends not to care about.

hurriedly taking off his gloves that are covered with mud, he picks up his phone from the table and answers his agent’s call. “please tell me you have something,” is what he says, not even concealing the desperation in his voice.

“i have something,” yikyung confirms, sounding excited.

“holy fuck,” he whispers to himself. he’s pacing around now, thrilled and anxious, praying to the gods of every religion that this will be a good offer. “what is it? tell me quickly.”

“they’re doing grease,” he says and seokjin does an impromptu super mario impression, just jumping all over the place because of the mention of the famous musical, the kind of musical that he knows would definitely benefit him if he wants to be within everybody’s radar again. “they already have a sandy young—it’s the producer’s niece—so now all they’re looking for is the rest of the cast. I already got you an audition for danny zuko and it’s two weeks from now.”

“god, i fucking love you, yikyung.”

“i’m amazing, aren’t I?”

“the best. you’re a goddamn gift from above.”

“and it hasn’t even been a year,” yikyung proudly points out. “you’ll be absolutely back on your feet after this project. your scandal has died down, anyway. not a lot are talking about it, and some of your fans are getting better at defending you, sharing encounter stories of their own to support the claim that you aren’t a dick who has a fetish in getting into a bickering war with an old woman.”

seokjin rolls his eyes. “never describe it that way to me again.”

yikyung chuckles. “i’ll hire a cleaning lady to clean your apartment here in the city maybe this weekend. when do you think you’ll arrive?”

“some time after the weekend. i’ll have to take care of a few things before i go.”

“like what?”

“well, believe it or not, i actually made some friends here.”

“damn. i told you this hiatus was going to be good for you.”

“yeah, you are right about that. i think it was healing for some reason. aside from the first weeks of me being depressed as fuck.”

“so, what does that mean? does this mean that you think you’ll nail the audition?”

seokjin grins. he isn’t cocky for nothing. even though it was advised to him before to lower it down a bit so that he wouldn’t come across as a complete ass, he knows he’s great at this pursuit of his. he’s charming, he has an amazing voice, and he can pull off any choreography instructed to him regardless of his initial lack of dancing abilities. being a hard worker makes you that way, and it’s what seokjin thinks will always help him in every endeavor he runs after.

“you bet, i will.”

“how’s your voice? your joints? do you need to warm up?”

“i’ve been singing for the community here every tuesday and thursday. i also haven’t been physically inactive like you think i am. i’ve been exercising regularly, improving my stamina and all that shit.”

yikyung doesn’t answer for a few seconds, a silence that seokjin translates into his manager being impressed that he hasn’t let go of himself despite the circumstances.

after a few more clarifications and reminders, the call ends and seokjin flops down on the wooden chair close to him, this goofy and giddy smile erupting on his face. it doesn’t occur to him until this moment that he’s been wishing for a miracle like this to come along because he’s been missing performing on stage like he used to do during shows and even when he’s in dance studios for the rehearsals. yeah, having a reason to take a break was nice too as he expressed, but nothing beats doing what he loves to do.

and playing danny zuko? wow, talk about a huge upgrade from being mandated by his management to disappear from the public to potentially being cast as one of john travolta’s famous roles. of course, the challenge with this is that he has to make sure that he actually gets the role, which he’s optimistic that he’ll be fine with.

his reputation may be questionable once he comes back, but there’s no denying that if there’s anyone who can emanate an arrogant greaser who cares too much about his image—it’s him.

****

seokjin’s aunt was devastated when she discovered that he’s leaving. she tried to persuade him to stay longer (if not for her, for the plants and the grocery store—and maybe the crowd of people he would sing for whenever there was an occasion in the neighborhood). however, regardless of her insistence, seokjin cannot be budged; he’s been waiting far too long for this to have second thoughts about it, to be swayed from this provincial life he has come to love and genuinely enjoy.

“are you coming back?” taehyung asked him when the news of seokjin’s immediate departure got to him too. “because if you aren’t, can I have your bike?”

seokjin rolled his eyes. over the course of his stay, taehyung has become some sort of little brother he never had. “i’m coming back. just to visit though,” he said. “so you can have my bike.”

on the weekend before he left, he spent time with the people he befriended. he arranged a bingo session with the elderly; he ran laps with that golden retriever he took on walks every morning; he did his last piece of pottery with the instructor he also became friends with; then, on his very last night, he shared a few drinks with his aunt and taehyung, promising them that if he gets the part, they’ll have front row tickets to the show.

if not, he’ll jump off the bridge because he doesn’t think he has a face to show to anyone anymore. 

he earned a slap on the arm by his aunt with that one.

everything went smoothly when he came back to his old apartment the following morning, freshly cleaned like yikyung promised. nonetheless, seokjin felt it was necessary to check every nook and cranny of the place to verify that, even going as far as examining the decorations, memorabilia, and picture frames he had on display, his finger being swiped on the most random areas to make sure that every corner was polished. nobody lived here for eight months in his defense, and he really could catch a bad case of allergic rhinitis in the case yikyung was lying. he couldn’t have that. he had his voice to take care of; there shouldn’t be snot or phlegm getting in the way of the full prowess of his vocals.

for the next few days leading up to the audition, he did everything he can to assure that he’ll be in his best state when his time to shine comes. he practiced the song sandy, a solo piece sung by danny zuko, and rehearsed the lines for the scene where danny and sandy first meet again at rydell high.

in those hours he spent talking to himself, warming up his voice, making sure that he shaped his words right and exuded the energy of the greaser he’s aiming to play, he started thinking again that he seriously got a huge chance in landing this role. he’s superb at acting; he’s certain that he has the voice needed for this part; and not to mention that he’s got the looks for it, alright. his handsomeness is certainly one of the aspects that makes him so marketable as an actor.

plus, he manages to get a positive outlook regarding this because yikyung has been great in encouraging him, sending him inspirational quotes that sometimes were borderline annoying because it had nothing to do with his situation but still touching in a way.

like right now, as seokjin waits in the holding room of the theater for the audition, he receives a message from his manager with a GIF of a maneki-neko with an oversized arm and the quote by dr. seuss saying, “you have brains in your head. you have feet in your shoes. you can steer yourself any direction you choose. you're on your own. and you know what you know. and you are the guy who'll decide where to go”.

it is a little aligned to what he’s going through right now but seokjin can’t help but still grimace in distaste.

“kim seokjin?” the casting assistant calls, and he snaps his head up from the screen of his phone to peer at the person who called him.

he stands, gaining the attention of the casting assistant. “here.”

“great. follow me please.” she smiles and begins walking to where the stage is without checking whether seokjin followed her or not. 

he does, as quickly as possible, thankful because he can finally get away from that enclosed space with fellow auditionees who were either gaping at him or chatting him up, asking about the hiatus he did. he’s smart enough not to give any specific details, instead saying the standard “mental health break” or “sabbatical leave” that they seemed to buy.

walking across the stage, his eyes squint a bit at the spotlight directed to him. then, stopping at the center, he averts his gaze to the two people who are sitting on the front row seats. hyunbin park the director and seungjoon ahn the producer. they both appear serious, like they’re bored, or like they’ve been unimpressed by the roster of auditionees they’ve been having so far.

it creates a spark of hope for seokjin who’s confident that he might just be the person that’ll blow their minds for today. even though this is his first time performing in front of a professional again, he’s learned over the years to trust his skills more, and he knows that he’s definitely adept for the tryout happening at the moment.

“kim seokjin, isn’t it?” mr. Park says. he’s the more intimidating one out of the pair. he’s famous for having directed a lot of shows that got to win several trophies in every award giving body that catered to the theater industry. aside from this production being an anticipated project of his, he’s scheduled to direct a movie with a star-studded cast.

seokjin nods. “yes, that’s me.”

“wait a minute, i know you,” says mr. ahn, an index finger pointed towards him. this man doesn’t look that much older than seokjin. give or take about only five years his senior. “i’ve seen you somewhere. where have i seen you?”

seokjin swallows hard. fuck, fuck, fuck. kill me now. bury me in the ground. shit. i hope he doesn’t realize that i'm—

“ah! i remember.” mr. ahn laughs, turning to mr. park. “isn’t he the guy who played corny collins three years ago or something?”

a huge breath of relief escapes seokjin.

mr. park nods unsurely. “yeah, I think so. did you play corny collins, son?” he asks.

“i did.”

their faces significantly brightened.

“well, i’m looking forward to your audition, seokjin,” mr. ahn says. “i watched the media preview of hairspray back then. i was a great friend of jiyong.”

jiyong was the director of the said show.

“you may begin,” mr. park adds, gesturing for him to go ahead before readjusting the glasses he’s wearing. “break a leg.”

seokjin flashes a dazzling smile and begins.

****

yikyung: how was it? yikyung: the audition should be over by now. yikyung: tell me how you did! yikyung: i’ll be like this for the whole day until you reply. yikyung:

seokjin: do you think sending gifs is cool? seokjin: bc it’s not

yikyung: you didn’t answer my question?

seokjin can’t stop grinning. he’s had this grin since he finished the audition and walked out to the lobby, his mind replaying the events that took place during his performance and the reactions of the director and producer after he was done.

even though the two didn’t make their verdict apparent, seokjin had a feeling that he was going to get cast in this show for the reason that as soon as he finished belting the last line of the song sandy, mr. park and mr. ahn shared a look with one another, their eyebrows raising in what comes across like understanding.

now, quick disclaimer, seokjin doesn’t read minds, but he’s pretty sure that that’s a good sign. he’s done his fair share of auditions and seeing an interaction like that from people who are in charge of casting always raises the chances that he’ll end up in the project. it’s a really big tell from what he thinks—and it’s what’s prompting him to almost skip like a little girl while walking to the café nearby where he’s planning to treat himself with the mouthwatering strawberry cream croissant he saw on their display earlier, nothing in his mind other than fantasies of receiving a call as soon as he gets home confirming he got the part.

maybe i should start incorporating black leather jackets into my wardrobe more… it is what danny zuko wears half of the time in the film and since i’ll be danny zuko, it can be some kind of way i’ll be able to internalize the character and be fucking amazing in this…

clearly, doing an inner monologue isn’t advisable when you’re walking along a busy street filled with people who are obviously in a rush to get to where they’re going.

because as he continues marching forward, taking a quick turn to the café he’s aiming to go to, his thoughts everywhere aside from the path he’s strolling on—his arm bumps against someone’s shoulder, ceasing his daydreaming and causing him to glance back, about to utter a quick apology if it wasn’t for the sight that greets him when he does.

he wrinkles his forehead, gazing at you.

there’s no doubt in his mind that it really is you who he’s looking at, but due to the fact that it’s been approximately 9 years since you last saw each other, seokjin asks himself whether this is legit or is his imagination taking a sinister route and letting him imagine how it would be like to meet the person he doesn’t want to see on a perfect day.

“well, shit,” you say, staring at him with the same surprised yet puzzled expression. your features look more mature, your hair is styled in a different way, your choice of clothes is more sophisticated—yet despite the subtle changes, you’re still as attractive as you were when he last got to see you. he might even dare to think that your attractiveness leveled up as well. “i’ll be damned. it’s you.”

seokjin feels his throat closing up, reality sinking in that you’re really here in front of him. “____?”

“i’m flattered that you remember.” you chuckle. “or that you’re not pretending to have amnesia to escape this conversation at least.”

to be fair, if it registered to him a few seconds earlier on who you are, he might have done exactly that.

but of course he doesn’t admit it. his ears just turn red while he utters a lie. “that’d be silly. it’s not like you’d believe me if i said that.”

“touché. but i still reckon you’d do it. you are an actor.” a smirk makes its way to your lips. “how’s that going, by the way? last time i heard, you’re being murdered on twitter and being called a world class asshole.”

he winces slightly. “that’s an exaggeration.”

“i don’t think so. you are on hiatus because of it, aren’t you?”

“not anymore.”

“oh?”

“you seem disappointed,” he retorts. “then again, i wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been praying for my downfall ever since you-know-what happened.”

“you-know-what? do you mean when you dumped me?” you explicitly say, not even missing a beat after he was done speaking.

yes, you’re an ex-girlfriend. sadly, an ex-girlfriend he knows he didn’t treat well because of what you just reminded him of.

he presses his lips together, gathering all the confidence he has left. “yes. i do mean that. and i am sorry about it. truly.”

“you dumped me over the phone.”

“i’m aware of that too.”

“you didn’t explain why you wanted to break up.”

a pause. “yes, i didn’t.”

“and just because we coincidentally met again after so many years, you finally apologize?”

“that’s about right.”

“it doesn’t sound very sincere to me.”

he widens his eyes, surprised that you’re not letting this go as easily as he thought you would. from what he remembers, you’re the type of person who doesn’t hold grudges; you’re the type of person that everybody would say was genuinely good. in fact, it’s what he was mad about years back when you were still together—how you often let other people take advantage of your kindness, often putting you in a position of being a doormat or an emotional punching bag.

but that’s almost a decade ago. he feels bad that he’s not sure whether to be proud of you or to be a bit frustrated that he’s on the receiving end of this.

“anyways,” you add after the excruciating awkward silence, “as much as i want to give you a piece of my mind, i have to go. i’d say it was nice seeing you and that we should catch up sometime, jin, but that would be a lie.”

seokjin’s supposed to let you go despite his conscience eating him up. he’s not entirely stupid, it’s apparent that it’s better not to reopen healed wounds, and judging from the manner you spoke to him, you don’t want to give him an opening to enter your life again.

but then your phone rings, which you’re holding on one hand while the other holds a paper bag from the coffeeshop. And then, seokjin sees it—sees mr. park’s face on the screen with a caller ID named ‘dad’, that he can’t prevent himself from staying still and allowing you to leave without explaining what he’s witnessing right now.

“wait,” he holds your elbow as you’re trying to walk past him, “your dad isn’t mr. park, is he? i know your dad. He’s not hyunbin park.”

you blink at him, confused at the random question, however a wave of understanding swiftly washes over you. he watches you grin all of the sudden, eyes twinkling in amusement. he’s familiar with that expression, and it’s scaring him to death because he now has a pretty good idea on what your answer is going to be.

“you’re here in the city because of an audition,” you state, tone so sure that it makes him sweat. “don’t tell me… You’re auditioning for grease?”

he doesn’t tell you he’s auditioning for grease.

your grin widens even further, your next sentence inducing a sensation that might be a heart attack.

“then you’ve met dad. he is hyunbin park, the director.”

fuckity fuck fUCK FUCK!

note. AHHH first chapter is out! i hope y’all like this because i’m happy with how this turned out hehe. this drabble series will only have 10 episodes and i’m gonna pray that i get to finish this before the year 2024 ends 😭

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[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?”