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I don’t read a bunch of vampire fics but holy shit was this one good. I love anything by this author because the OCs are always perfectly written for my taste. She is snarky and bold and I wish I could be like that 🥲

Alive Aha Fxck...

An abandoned apartment in your building caught your attention the day you moved in. With a mind full of conspiracy theories, you’ve spent many hours contemplating what might be behind the door of Room 17. Your neighbor, Yoongi, doesn’t seem as eager as you are to solve the mystery but he agrees to help you break in anyway to get you to finally shut up about it. Also, he may or may not think you’re kinda cute. However, the two  of you get more than you bargain for when you discover something dangerous is living right next door; Little do you know that this something has quite a lot in common with your snarky neighbor… or… “Actually this is kind of cool, I’ve always wanted to star in a Twilight fanfic…” “I can’t believe you genuinely just compared this situation to Twilight.” “Yoongi- I hate to break it to you but, this literally happened in Twilight.”

Pairing: Vampire! Yoongi x Human! Reader, dom! Yoongi x sub! Reader (*cue the Twilight Zone theme song*)

Word Count: 42,653 ( I am a clown :D )

Genre: neighbor au, soulmate au, vampire au, supernatural, fluff, HUMOR, angst, smut (its not til the very end palz, im so sorry)

Warnings (PLEASE READ ME): angst, language, blood (like there is aloooooot of blood in this fic), depictions of violence, death of a major character is mentioned in detail but as always, we have a happy endings only policy so i promise it’s going to end well!! explicit smut (18+ only plz), bdsm themes,marking, mentions of a very real serial killer (the real story is tweaked to fit the fic’s plot), very brief mention of needles.

(TRIGGER WARNING: I am about to discuss the concept of self harm, please continue reading at your own discretion)

there is a scene where one of the characters intentionally cuts themselves but it is not within the context of self harm. They cut themselves for a specific purpose that will make sense if you choose to read but please only do so if you feel comfortable <333

A/N: heyyyyyy….how y’all doing???? Yes, this is a quote from a tik tok audio. Yes, I have completely lost my mind. Well here she is,,,in all her glory. I never had the anticipation of this fic becoming this long but here we are. I can’t wait for you to read this one, thank you so much for sticking with me and waiting for it. Your feedback means the world to me so I hope to hear from you! I love you.

“Every time I walk by that door, I swear I feel like someone is watching me.”

This statement is spoken through your doorframe at your very uninterested neighbor who made the unfortunate mistake of coming by to borrow your pepper.

“Yoongi, you can’t tell me you don’t want to know what’s going on in that place-”

His chuckle cuts you off, “Oh I already know what’s going on; it’s not the mystery you seem to think it is.” His eyes dart back and forth before he leans in and licks his lips.

Without your permission, your body seems to gravitate towards his, your lips parting with anticipation.

“You do?”  

“Oh yeah…”

You swallow back the scratchiness in your throat, your hand pressing against the chipped paint of the doorframe.

“Tell me…”  

A puff of air leaves his lips as he replies, “Asbestos.”

Yoongi cackles whilst you roll your eyes, your body recoiling into your apartment.

“I hate you.”

“Yah, you hate me because I don’t believe that Room 17 is haunted? This building is like 60 years old- management obviously doesn’t want to pay for an inspection so they started sealing off the rooms that haven’t been renovated yet. That’s it: mystery solved.”

“Then how do you explain the noises?” You whine, not missing the way his pointy teeth peek out from his lips as he smiles bemusedly.  

Keep reading

Numb

How do you describe the feeling of feeling nothing?

It’s in the slit of light shining through the bottom of your bedroom door and hearing the laughter outside. Imagining being part of that, or maybe even causing those bellows of laughter, yet feeling absolutely drained and empty on the inside.

It’s the throbbing clench on your chest as you think of everything that could’ve been done better – all the things you could do better, should have done better – but knowing you won’t be able to push past the paralysing fear of opening your mouth. Even as you search for the fire that long since died, nothing ever satisfies gnawing ache.

It’s soiling your pillow, leaving stains that proclaim themselves saliva under sunlight, all while you stare at the darkened ceiling drowned in an ocean of night, unblinking. Unyielding.

It’s trying not to care, but caring too much anyway.