#(lowkey i think this Could Be Better but i really wanna get across how. he won this fight bc of empathy and his /heart/ cause that really is

[love-fictional-ppl]

Sooo... What if you did some fluffy angst with a pro-hero Bakugo (and his hearing problems of course) with a pro-hero reader who has REALLY bad hearing problems but doesn't tell anyone and tries really hard to hide it. Ahhhh. I feel like this is hard to explain but since like, he has hearing problems of whatever he'd pick up on the hints that you're hearing is shit and what not. I hope you get what I'm asking for 😭🙏

Ok so I hope this is what you’re asking for, also I just want to put a disclaimer out there for everybody that I am not somebody who experiences hearing loss so feel free to let me know if anything written is offensive, incorrect, etc.

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Birds of a Feather

Summary: look at the request silly’s😋😋

Pairings: hard of hearing!prohero!katsuki bakugou x deaf!gn!reader

Warnings: Angst, language, Bakugou & reader reads lips and knows ASL, Bakugou wears hearing aids, crying, low self esteem lowkey, Obsession on both ends, L word, kinda ooc Bakugou

A/N: I wanted to make this longer but like I kinda got writers block halfway thru😭😭

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Being deaf was hard on you, always the target of bullies in school. Pitied by everyone else, talking slow and loud thinking it will help you hear them. Hey dumb fuck, I can’t hear you. You wanted to scream at everybody, then one day through tinder you met Katsuki Bakugou.

Katsuki was the most relatable person you probably ever met. Angry, blunt, hard of hearing, overall an introvert. You swiped left on his profile, you suddenly felt obsessed with him. Quickly you realized he was pro-hero Dynamight.

You and Bakugou talked for what felt like an eternity, an eternity of bliss. Eventually Katsuki asked you out on a date. You met at a cafe, apparently his favorite.

It was pretty easy for you to pass as “normal”, if you focused on his lips and watched their movements you could tell what he was saying. He doesn’t have to know.

What you didn’t know, Katsuki was as obsessed with you as you were him. He felt drawn to you, that how he wound up stalking your social media accounts. Through that stalking, he quickly realized what most dumb men likely wouldn’t, you were deaf. He figured you wanted to tell him on your own, so he pretended he didn’t know better.

Then, you two started dating and suddenly katsuki had to pretend he didn’t know better for months. You slipped up a lot of times and made it obvious but he didn’t care, he loves you.

It started getting hard to pretend he didn’t notice, considering you recently moved in with him. Katsuki concocted a plan in his head to tell you he knew so you could both move forward. You both felt the tension between you.

Sitting down for dinner one day, you and katsuki were both enjoying the meal you had cooked for the two of you. You sat directly across each other at the table. Katsuki made sure to turn his hearing aid on, he had a habit of turning it off.

You went back and forth talking about each other’s days. “-shitty fucking Deku, thinks he’s better than me.” You laughed at your boyfriend’s aggressive behavior.

Bakugou felt relieved at your delight, he took a deep breath and spoke, “look, I wanna talk to you about somethin’ but I don’t want you to get upset.”

You frowned slightly, “hey, it’s ok. Go ahead and say it.”

Katsuki let out a breath, “we’ve been together for months now. I’ve made it clear with you from the beginning about the fact that I need a hearing aid, there ain’t no judgment. That’s why I wanted you to tell me on your own terms, but anyway I know that you’re hard of hearing or deaf or whatever.”

You were stunned. Your big hunk of a boyfriend, the number two pro-hero was rambling. Even more so, he knew your very well kept secret.

You let out a sigh of relief, “I’m deaf. How did you-“

“You lip read. Also I’ve known since we first met,” Katsuki admitted.

You started sobbing and not because you were sad, but because you were glad to have it out in the opening between you two.

You chuckled and signed, I love you.

Katsuki signed back, I love you too.

“You could have told me, dumb ass.” His words were playful with truth behind them.

“I know it’s just-“ Katsuki must have heard how shaky your voice was.

Once more, he cut you off, “hey, you don’t have to talk about it right now. We’ll talk about it another day.”

You couldn’t help but lunge yourself into your boyfriend’s arms. Katsuki securely wrapped you in his arms.

“You’re the only person who has ever understood me,” you admitted into his chest.

“I’d kill for you,” he wasn’t sure why he said, but you both knew it was true.

You chuckled, “just keep holding me.”

And he did.

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Not Proofread!

#bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #pro hero bakugou #pro hero bakugo x reader #deaf!reader #mha angst #this is probably shit

[romantichomicide95]

I love all your jujutsu Kaisen headcanons and writing. I was wondering if you could do how the boys cuddle you when watching a movie, and what movie night is like with them?

thanks! I actually love this one:)

JJK boys movie night

With pics because I thought it’d be fun. (Just got these pics off google so ignore the people it’s just the positions)

Satoru Gojo

Gojo would want you really close to him, he’d probably enjoy laying on your chest. Even though he’s massively tall and buff, he just wants to cuddle into you when you guys have movie night. There’s always a lot of laughing and flirting going on. Even if you’ve been together for a long time he’s just a big goofball so he’s always being super flirty. If you are paying too much attention to whatever’s on he’s going to want you to put more attention on him, he gets really needy and wants your attention all the time so movie nights are hard. Unless of course it’s a movie he really likes. But he doesn’t have the best attention span. He also likes to spoon you on the couch so he can wrap his arms around you and just rest his hands under your shirt. Like when girls put their hands on their boobs when they lay down, that’s Gojo. He just loves laying with his hands up your shirt.

There is lots and lots of sweets. He has like so many different bowls of candies, popcorn and other sweets laid out and lots of soda. He goes all out. He’s definitely going to expect to have a make out session at some point, which is partly what causes his need to be so close to you. He’d start by laying kisses to your neck than to your lips. Lots of movie nights lead to other things as well, expect lots of groans if you don’t give in. You’re better off watching a movie you really want to see alone. But he’s so lovable and cute you honestly don’t even mind.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi is lowkey a softy. He won’t ever admit it but he genuinely enjoys when you cuddle up close to him and lay on his chest. Movie nights are one of his favorite activities. One he gets you all to himself, and two there’s always lots of kissing. He wraps both his arms around you and interlocks his fingers with yours. You cuddle up super close, practically laying yourself on his lap. He loves that he can just look down at you at any point without you noticing, he likes watching you but gets embarrassed if you see him looking. Sometimes he just reads his head on top of yours. There’s also always lots of pillows and blankets. Extreme comfort. He’s pretty silent during most of the movie, he actually does watch it until you decide you want kisses and than he misses a lot of the movie, but he loves kissing you so he doesn’t mind.

He really just enjoys any alone time you get, away from everyone else. He likes just being with you and not having to think about jujutsu life or curses or any of that.

Yuji Itadori

Yuji is a big cuddle bug so he basically just wants you on his lap the whole time. Sometimes you physically sit on his lap and he wraps his arms around you his head focused on the tv from the crook of your neck; sometimes you just sit across him and he holds you really close. It honestly doesn’t matter to him as long as your super close to him and he can wrap his arms around you. He’s basically just bear hugging you all the time no matter what and it’s no different when you watch movies. He tries really hard to watch the whole movie but if you so much as look at him he’s gunna kiss you.

He loves action films a lot but he secretly likes watching scary movies with you because you always go to him for comfort when your scared. He loves feeling like he can protect you, plus after a scary movie all you wanna do is be near him and he relishes in that.

—

I swear boys just wanna make out during movie night so I’m sorry I put it with everyone haha that’s my experience with men at least.

#jujutsu Kaisen #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo headcanons #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi headcanons #megumi fluff #gojo fluff #itadori headcanons #itadori x reader #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #yuji fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen gojo

[persphonesorchid]

Connotations Of Sin - JHS (m)

Summary: At your lowest, you’ve been living on the streets for the past couple of months. When you decide to leave your only safe haven and find yourself lost in a mysterious fog, an angel stretches out a hand of mercy. Little do you know, black taints his once alabaster wings.

Genre: Fallen Angel Au | Angst, fluff, smut (mdni), horror (V lowkey, I swear)

Word Count: 30k

Masterlist

Please read these warnings carefully!!

Warnings: Homelessness, Kidnapping (? is it though??), Suicidal ideation, referenced and described abuse and murder of a child. Hoseok is his own warning. Mc gets drugged and then she gets sick... A bit of religious babble, mc has nightmares (one of which is actually kinda bad...), she almost dies at one point. Hoseok likes playing mind games, but they aren't serious (Honestly debatable...). Implied gang activity and violence. Hoseok contradicts himself a lot, he's really confusing. Smut: oral ( m and f receiving) soft dom Hoseok, i think Hoseok has an oral fixation (or is it ME, the author?????) unprotected sex.

Notes: Phew, welcome!! SO, it's finally here!!! I'm so excited to share this project with you alll! It was such a big project for me, and so much time and effort went into it. Believe it or not, this started out as a smut piece and it had nothing going for it at all. If you've been following me for a while, you'd remember that back in 2021 i posted a teaser for something similar. Tbh back then probably wasn't the right time to post such a thing lmao, i for certain wasn't ready to write it and it wouldn't have been written in the way it was meant to with my writing style back then. It's been a long journey of understanding the characters portrayed here, and a lot of work to get them right. Very big shoutout to @hwaslayer who's - as always - been there with me from the very beginning and has been the biggest help and motivator, please look out for her Ateez's Seonghwa fic that shares this universe!! I won't keep you any longer, but please be sure to leave feedback, a lot of effort went into this project and i'd love to hear what you think and answer any questions! Happy reading!!!

“You sure you don’t wanna stay here with me dearie? I know it ain’t much, but it’s better than being out in the elements.” Abigail takes your hands in hers, hands that – much like yours – are dirt stained and ruddy, but bring you comfort that you wouldn’t find elsewhere. Abigail – or Toothy as everyone else calls her – is a frail woman with wispy auburn hair and a gap tooth smile. Her hair had gone white in some places, the crows’ feet at her eyes can barely help you guess her age. Her eyes are blue and dull but still regard you warmly like she did when she’d found you wandering along the fourth avenue weeks or so ago.

The space where she stays isn’t much; a nook in an alleyway between two rundown buildings that people don’t bother to go into. She’d tried her best to make it into a space that’s comfortable enough, the roof made of termite bitten sheets of ply that’s at least a square and a half wide. An old, mildew ridden tarp thrown over it and held down by a couple pieces of rubble from the building across makes up the walls that offer shelter from cold wind and rain and as much privacy you could get out here. The floor made of giant trash bags Abigail had swindled from some place or another, covered with old sheets that’s definitely seen better days. Even though the sheets had long lost their softness and leave you itching, they kept your butt off the cold concrete.

You’re going to miss the stories she’d tell. You’d lay on the floor, the longest part of the tarp folded over the top, and stare up at the strip of night sky between the buildings, twinkling with the bit of stars you can see and listen.

She’d tell you of her life before she fell to rock bottom, how grand everything was. How, many years ago, she’d won the lottery by a stroke of luck, only to have it turn sour when her fiancé gambled it all away and she lost everything. She never did tell you what happened to him.

You’d miss walking the couple of miles to the river, armed with pieces of run-down bar soaps and plastic bags with the little clothes you owned in them bundled in your arms. Or the nights when it’s cold, you’d go down to the square with her and look around for things to burn and dump them into the steel barrel to keep warm.

There are days when there’s nothing, and Abigail would distract you from your stomach trying to eat at itself with another one of her stories and old cans filled with steaming boiled rain water. There are days when you’d sit with a full tummy, there’s usually one kind soul out there that takes pity on you both to offer as much as they could.

You’ll be forever grateful for Abigail, with her motherly affection and her warm hands. She never once asked how you ended up here too, she simply offered a hand when you needed it most.

You felt as though you lingered too long... this is the longest you’ve stayed in a place. The company was good, but you feel like there’s just so much you’re robbing Abigail of by staying with her. You know she would strongly disagree; she’d probably whack you with her busted up sneaker and send you to sit in a corner until you’ve apologized. It’s simply how you feel, if you’re not here, Abigail wouldn’t have to share the little of what she gets, you feel terrible enough that she gives you more than she keeps for herself.

“Don’t worry Abigail.” You smile, pulling one hand away to pat hers. Her fingers are bony and long, and lacking the warmth they did earlier in the day. “I don’t stay one place for too long.”

It’s a lie, obviously. You’d rather chew your leg off than go out there alone. Away from the safety this little nook had been for the past month, away from Abigail, who’s cared more about you than anyone has in a while. But you care about her too, enough that you’d leave to make sure that she eats well enough to survive and not give it all to you. She’d be better off.

Abigail narrows her eyes at you, the wrinkles of her face deepening as she frowns. She looks sad, you note, the blue of her eyes dark and stormy, but she says nothing, just squeezes your hands for a while before letting go.

You smile softly, and continue stuffing your clothes into an old backpack Abigail had given you a while back. You fold the dirty ones tight, setting them at the bottom, and the few clean ones you had that still smelled like your last bar soap at the top. You don’t have much, and you’ve gotten used to it – as hard as it was.

When you shouldered your bag and stepped out from under the tarp, Abigail follows, worry on her brow, saying that she’d walk you to the mouth of the alleyway.

“Oh!” She says, turning back to duck under the tarp. You hear the rummaging of her old pot wares, the clanking of the metal before she comes back and holds out a can to you. The label looks worn, peeling off in some places, but you make out the bright red ‘canned peach’ on the side. “I was savin’ this for when we go down to the river, but you’d better have it.”

“Abigail...” You sigh, guilt gnawing at your edges, “I can’t take this.”

Abigail purses her lips, smacking the can into your hand, “Yes, you can. It’ll hold you out for a little while.”

“Then what would you eat?” You outstretch your hand, offering the peaches back to her and she narrows her eyes at you.

“I can manage.” She says testily, and then sighs, softening, “Are you sure you’ll be okay out there?” She takes the can and tucks it into the outside pocket of your bag, “It’ll be rough ya know.”

“I’ll be fine,” You say, and then, you hug her. Truly, you’ll miss her. She pats your back gently, “Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t mention it, we gotta look out for each other out here.” Abigail smiles, pulling away. She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her baggy jeans, something she’d picked up at a donation shelter a couple of days ago. It’s got a few holes and it’s frayed at the ankles but she’d never complain. “If you fall into luck, don’t forget me.”

“Never.”

You both say your goodbyes and you try your best to not cry at the sadness that clings to Abigail’s form as she hobbles back to her little nook. You take a breath and pick a direction to walk in.

You think about going to the river first, to get a little cleaned up before you go looking for somewhere to sleep for the night. You’re already regretting leaving the comfort that Abigail provided. You know she wouldn’t blame you if you turned right around and dragged yourself back. You’ve already made your mind up, though – it’s better this way.

You don’t have a gauge on the time, but the sun’s getting quite low. It streaks the sky in orange and pink, hiding behind a fluffy white cloud as it makes its slow decent. You might be able to make it to the river and back before night falls completely if you hurry. So you walk, and walk, and it’s a long way past the street Abigail first found you, where the city meets a forest edge.

You once asked Abigail why she didn’t live closer to the river, you worry about her most days, taking her frail self through the streets for such a long walk just to get here. She’d told you that even though some of your street dwelling comrades are friendly, most aren’t, and would do the worst to get what they need. It’s too risky to be close to the river where all manner of folk pass to get to it.

You tuck your bag to your front and keep an ear out for anyone that may be in the area. You grimace as the twigs and stones of the forest floor poke at your feet. Your shoes were on their last, they kept your feet warm most days, but they’re biting holes into your last good pair of socks. The trees get sparse the further in you go, and over the tweeting and chittering of the forest critters, there’s the sound of rushing water.

You break out of the trees and stand on the little edge where the forest pauses and the soft wet dirt begins. The river is a bit wild today, rushing through the rocks as it makes its way from wherever it starts. You know there must be a spring somewhere deeper if you follow the river back, but you don’t have the time to as the setting sun makes the forest look darker already. You wouldn’t like to be out here at night.

You slip out of your shoes and socks, wanting to keep them dry and walk down to the bank. Abigail has a little spot between three large boulders where she hides things. The spot is covered with leaves and sticks, and you dig through it to find the old blue bucket. It’s missing it’s handle and turned over to keep things under it.

There’s a new pack of soap powder that’s already been opened, a little square plastic bowl that’s probably seen better days on a dish rack and half of a soap bar. You pull the bucket out of its hiding place, taking just a handful of the soap powder and tossing it into the bucket. You tuck the powder into a corner of the rock with the soap bar on top of it and carry the bucket over to the river.

You rummage through your bag to find the clothes that needed cleaning, and put them in the bucket with the soap. It takes a moment of scooping water from the river and pouring it into the bucket. All the while you’re wondering where Abigail scored the soap powder from. A lot of things are hard to come by, but some people make trades with the little they’ve got. You feel a little guilty as you watch the water and soap soak into your clothes, though you know she wouldn’t mind if its you – you’re the only two that know where she keeps her stuff hidden – but still.

The soap smells sweet, and fresh in a way you haven’t smelt in a while. With the sun long gone behind the trees but still lighting the sky a bit, you wash your clothes as quickly as you can. You throw the soapy water on the bank and not back in the river, and rinse your clothes out just as quick.

There’s no time to wait for them to dry, with the sun being as low as it is and the wind baring its teeth. So you wring them out and pull out the plastic handle bag you keep folded in one of your backpack pockets to stuff them into.

It’s completely dark out once you’ve put the bucket back and covered Abigail’s things again and made your way back out of the forest. You would’ve liked to take a quick wash, but it’s too dark and the water’s too cold now. You’ll come back tomorrow when the sun’s high and hot.

You walk in a different direction than the way you came, looking for the little park that Abigail mentioned once. Its completely dark by the time you get there, your feet aching from the long walk and your mind muddled with thoughts.

You would often remind yourself not to think too hard, as your thoughts would often lead you to a dark place you find difficult to crawl out of. You would often regret not having people close enough to call good friends, maybe then you wouldn’t be out here.

You didn’t have a difficult life; you grew up in a loving home with both parents making sure that you were happy and not too spoilt by the fruits of their labour. You know the value of things and you know well to act like your parents raised you with some sense. Your mother passed when you were ten, and your father remarried when you were sixteen. You couldn’t understand why, your father loved your mother so much and you thought it would just be you and him against the world. You understood that your mother wouldn’t want him to live the rest of his life overshadowed by her passing and forget to continue living. So when he introduced you to the woman he met on a business trip, looking happier than he had in six years, you didn’t have the heart to tell him that something was off.

Your mother had always taught you to see the good in people, to give them the benefit of a doubt. There was no mistaking the thinly veiled disgust in your step mother’s eyes when she would look at you. She was quite young, compared to your father, anyway, and as the years went by, he spoilt her. He gave her whatever she wanted when she wanted it as long as it made her happy and you could only watch from the sidelines.

Your father fell ill, and everything went downhill from there.

When he passed, your world shattered and crumbled, leaving you standing in the rubble grasping at the wisps of it slipping through your fingers. Things were okay, for a while, grieving the loss of your father and trying to move on and step without him. Then the news of his will came not long after he was buried.

Your father left everything for his wife, the house, his money, and as you’d found on the first night you were out here, the savings account your mother had set up for you.

You had nothing.

You’d always kept to yourself growing up, and never let anyone closer than you would allow. You were home-schooled – all the way up to your tertiary education – and had no friends to speak of. Your parents never spoke of their family, all you knew and had were your mother and father.

It’s been a while since then. A good long while. It was hard to adjust to having everything at the tip of your fingers to having it ripped away all at once.

The first week was hard. You’d worked odd jobs here and there to keep your head above the water. Sleeping in a motel every night wasn’t ideal, especially since you had to buy food and every thing else. The little money you had ran out quickly, even when you pawned the possessions you did own it wasn’t enough.

You’ve had time to adjust since then. You met Abigail and things were as okay as they could’ve been considering. You remember, she had been pestering you about why you were pacing around on that bridge when she found you.

The deep rushing water below it had looked inviting – an easy way out. No one would’ve missed you, anyway.

You take a breath in sharply, and it burns. Cold air fills your lungs with little pinpricks as night fully settles. You try not to think about anything more as you walk through the park.

It looks empty, large trees and neat grass fields and cobbled walkways. There are dark metal benches scattered about, a trickle of water you can’t pinpoint coming from somewhere.

You’d just stay here for tonight, and find somewhere you wouldn’t be in trouble to stay at in the morning. You’re pretty sure you’re breaking some law being who you are as you sit down on the bench. It’s uncomfortable, the metal cold and biting, but you’d just have to deal for the night.

You dig through your backpack, pulling out the plastic bag with your damp clothes, a jacket that’s still in good condition and the canned peach Abigail sent you off with.

You spread your clothes out on the back of the bench, and you’re hoping they dry properly even if the air feels a little damp.

With a soft sigh, you lift the circular pin on the lid of the can and pull. The peaches are cut into slices and swimming in a sweet juice, and with some guilt you pick a piece out. It’s sweeter than anything you’ve had in a while, and for a moment you feel like crying.

You feel tears burn your eyes and nose as you chew the fruit, washing it down with a sip of the juice that tastes slightly like the can. It wasn’t long before it was all gone, your fingers sticky with the juice and you stare into the empty can with a frown. You wonder about Abigail and if she’s okay right now.

Setting the can down near the foot of the bench that’s bolted into the cobblestone path, you lay back. The sky is fairly clear, with a little smattering of wispy clouds floating by and stars that twinkle in the distance.

Drifting off slowly, you try to find a comfortable position to sleep in – though there isn’t one with this metal bench. Your jacket thrown over you as a makeshift blanket.

You’re not certain how long you sleep for, but when you wake, its to a tapping on your shoulder. The air is thick with something as you breathe in, and a lot damper than it was when you’d settled.

“Ma’am.” A voice calls, prodding your shoulder again, “Hello, miss?”

You open your eyes and your blood runs cold at the sight of the man in uniform standing above you. You sit up, excuses dancing at the tip of your tongue before you realised you could barely see past your nose.

The officer is holding a flashlight, the beam directed somewhere off to your right. A thick fog had settled while you slept, swirling way past the officer’s head.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t sleep here. This is a private park.” His words aren’t unkind, they come out gentle and a little pitying, as though he regrets having to do his job of keeping the riffraff out. He lets you gather your things, stuffing your still damp clothes back into your bag.

He takes a step back when you stand, “If you need somewhere to stay, there’s a shelter not far from here. Couple blocks that way.” He waves his flashlight behind you, towards the park’s exit, “Can’t miss it.”

You could barely see the guy, much less which way exactly he’s directing you to. You turn, squinting at the way you think he pointed. “Thank you... I’m really sorry about –”

“Don’t worry about it...just keep walking straight and you’ll find it.”

He motions with his flashlight again and you take two steps away before stopping and turning back, “Sorry but...the fog...which way...”

The man is gone, no sign of him having been there in the first place. It’s quiet, not even insects are chirping, you don’t hear any retreating footsteps. You stare at the spot he was just in, but didn’t want to linger lest he comes back and he’s decidedly less kind.

You hike your bag up on your shoulder, squinting to see through the fog as you walk towards the exit. The roads are empty, there’s the soft clicking of the traffic lights and the glow of shop lights and street lamps that make it a little bit easier to see. You still look both ways before walking quickly across the street, keeping straight like the officer told you.

It’s quiet, and honestly, it freaks you out a bit. You don’t think it’s that late, and even so, there should be people out and about. You don’t even think you slept for that long, it couldn’t have been more than an hour. There’s no reason for no one to be around, then again, you don’t know this area very well.

You walk for some time, the sound of your footsteps and your steady breaths your only company. You’re keeping your eyes peeled for any sign of the shelter, staring up at the glowing signs and squinting to see through the fog. You passed a convenience store, a pharmacy and a pet shop, all closed and dark inside. You’ve crossed two roads so far; it shouldn’t be much more walking...unless a couple of blocks have two different meanings between you and the officer.

You stop for a moment, taking a breath that settles heavy and damp in your chest. You look back the way you came, look at the signs of the buildings across the street and the one you’re outside of. You can’t see much more than that unless you keep walking straight.

You’re beginning to wonder if he’d only said so to get you out of the park. You take a couple of steps forward and then stop, looking over your shoulder. Your brows furrow and the hairs on the back of your neck stands on end.

It’s said that the mind always knows when you’re being watched, a sixth sense to be aware when someone is staring at you.

You feel watched.

And it isn’t an ordinary feeling.

It feels off, like some primal switch just flicked up in your brain. Briefly, you think that this is how a bunny feels being cornered by a fox. Your heart suddenly kicks against your ribs and something in the back of your mind screams for you to move.

You press forward, the feeling lingers, and intensifies. You walk as quickly as you can, your once steady breaths loud and harsh in the quietness of the night. You try not to look behind you as your ears pick up on the sound of another pair of footsteps. They match yours, and you’re not too certain if it’s just really your own bouncing off the walls of the buildings. When you stop, they stop, and start back up again when you start.

There’s another sound below it. Something snarls like a dog somewhere in the distance behind you, but, like everything else about this moment in this fog, it sounds wrong. Like it’s coming from a creature that’s trying to mimic the sound of an animal.

You stop dead in your tracks, goosebumps rippling along your skin like a wave from the top of your head and downwards. You take a breath, and with one foot in front of the other – you sprint.

Your footfalls are loud in the quiet, and even through your panic you notice the change of the footsteps that mimicked yours. There’s two more with it that falls in rhythm, like a large beast running on all fours.

It’s running faster than you are, the pounding of its feet against the pavement is double the speed of your own. You feel like your lungs are about to burst, your legs burning, and the damp air becomes fire in your throat when you breathe.

Whatever it is snarls again, and it sounds way closer than it was before. You could almost feel the sound rumble through you, and something hot fans at the back of your neck. You nearly trip, stumbling over your own feet in an attempt to run faster. You round a corner blindly, hoping to throw whatever it is off your trail and smack right into someone.

With your momentum, you’d think that you would send yourself and the person sprawling to the hard concrete. The terrified scream you let out rings in your own ears, high pitched and shrill, as you bounce back, falling in a heap. There’s a sharp twinge in your wrist as you brace, and a stinging in your palm when you just barely managed to catch yourself.

“Shit!” the person exclaims – a man, if the deep timbre of his voice was anything to go by. “Are you okay?!”

The man crouches down and you scramble back, then remember that you crashed into him because you were running from something and the panic comes back.

“I—there’s ... Something’s following me! It chased me all the way here...It’s—”

“Hey, hey...it’s okay...you’re fine.” The man seems to look behind you. You could barely see his face, even with him being as close as he was; the fog just seems to get thicker. “It’s just us out here...”

His voice suddenly seems hesitant, and you wouldn’t blame him if he thought you were crazy.

You breathing is still erratic, heart still trying to pound its way out of your chest.

The man’s hands hover at your shoulders, and there’s worry in his tone when he speaks again. “It’s okay. You’re alright, nothing’s out here but us.”

He takes your hand – the one that’s not holding your weight – and presses it to his chest. You almost jump out of your skin at the contact, but his own heart is steady, beating a slow rhythm against his sternum. “Breathe with me.”

He takes a deep breath in, and you feel his chest expand as his lungs fill, you try your best. Your throat is burning, and every breath feels like fine glass is swirling at the back of your mouth. It takes a moment, but eventually, your breaths match his and the adrenaline seeps out with your every exhale.

Your brain finally registers the throbbing of your wrist and palm, and the ache in your sides.

“There you go.” You can faintly make out the smile that spreads across the man’s face, heart shaped and pretty white teeth. “Good now?”

You nod, just barely, and he releases your hand. There’s a shuffling and the sound of a zipper and then he’s holding a bottle of water out to you. You eye it with some suspicion, and he picks up on it.

“It’s just water, promise.” He says, wiggling the bottle a little. “The seal isn’t cracked or anything.”

You take your weight off your palm, wincing at the hot flash of pain from the movement. You right yourself a little, taking the water from him with your uninjured hand and a soft thanks.

“Oh...here...” he keeps the bottle steady in your hand with a palm under the bottom of it, and the other cracking the seal with a twist. He lifts the bottle to your lips and you take a sip, and then a gulp, “Easy, not too fast.”

The water is cool, and a blessing, you didn’t realise how thirsty you were. When you’ve drank at least half of the bottle, the man puts the cap back on and leaves it in your hold.

“Were you looking for something?” he asks gently, and you nod.

“The homeless shelter...I think I’m lost now, though.”

The man tilts his head, “There aren’t any shelters in this area...you’re on the wrong side of the city if that’s what you were looking for.”

You stare at him for a moment, “...Oh.” The officer really did just say it, then. You’re not sure what to say to the man and you glance around at the street that’s still teeming with the thick fog.

You’re not sure what to say to him, and instead, look around the street for any sign of the shelter even though he’d said there isn’t one.

“I think the fog’s lifting...” The man mumbles. The fog is clearing; it’s easier to see further down the street and the man in front of you. He presses his palms against his knees and stands, looking around for a moment before looking down at you. “There aren’t any shelters around...but...I can help you. If you want, I live a bit that way, and I’ve got an extra room...”

This is a bad idea.

He’s quite tall, on the lean side with long limbs. He’s wearing a long black coat, and his black, suede shoes look just as expensive as the watch that peeks from the end of his sleeve at his wrist. The white tee shirt he wears looks a little billowy, like it would swallow his frame once he takes the coat off. He turns a little and you get to admire the sharp cut of his jaw and the elegant slope of his nose.

“I won’t hurt you or anything. I just want to help.” He says, turning back to you. His eyes are dark, but kind as he offers a hand to help you off the concrete. “I’m Hoseok.”

You take his hand, and there’s nothing in the back of your mind telling you to get away. Nothing in his body language that shows ill intent, and you have to remind yourself that some people are simply kind.

He helps you to your feet and you thank him softly, giving him your name. His smile is soft as he nods, lips turned up slightly at the corners, eyes squinted just a bit.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. It’s a bit late, though, and you’d have to walk a long way to find the shelter...” Hoseok says softly.

You’re still holding his hand, and the warmth of it grounds you. You honestly shouldn’t, really, you’re smart enough to know you shouldn’t follow random men promising kindness. He really looks like a good person, quietly waiting for your answer as he gives you chance to change your mind should you wish.

He doesn’t rush you, and briefly you wonder if he doesn’t have anything else to do. He was clearly going about his business before you tackled him, though that word should be used lightly considering you’re the one who ended up on the ground.

“Okay...thank you.” When you finally speak his smile broadens, showing pretty teeth and still holding your hand, he leads you in the direction he was coming from before. You feel a bit bad, turning his night on its head and probably inconveniencing him.

The fog is lighter now, the air not as thick with it as you follow along. Hoseok didn’t talk much, not once mentioning your pitiful state of dress, or asking any questions. You’re grateful, not many people would go out of their way to open their homes to someone without one.

The place he leads you to looks expensive and you feel out of place. The road winds and twists into a residential area with houses and three storey apartments. There are cars parked in driveways, neatly trimmed grass and hedges, a fence around every tree. Lampposts dot the sidewalk every thirty or so steps, casting their orange glows across every surface.

Across from there, the road veers off into a more commercial area, with fancier housing and shops and a tall, looming hotel. The streets are quiet, shops already closed for the night and you wonder what time it is. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around, save for you and Hoseok making your way towards the hotel.

The doors slide open with a little mechanical whir, and you balk at the sheer size of the lobby alone. Light fixtures hang from the ceiling, bouncing their glows off of shiny surfaces. There are red and black lounge seats along a far wall, coffee tables of black tempered glass between them and the single seated chairs across. On the other side of the lobby is a little open cafe area, closed of course, with comfortable looking chairs tucked under tables.

There are two elevators, one of which you assume to be for staff. The reception area is a counter space of smooth looking white marble, though no one sits behind it.

Hoseok leads you to the elevator, pressing the button to call it down. You’ve let go of his hand now, as you take in the sight of the place. You wonder what anyone would think seeing someone like you in here. With your shabby clothes that’s seen better days, your dirty sneakers and backpack that looks like it’s moments away from just splitting apart.

There’s no one to see you, as the elevator comes down and opens with a ding. You catch sight of your reflection in the elevator walls, and grimace, regretting not bracing the cold river earlier. You definitely look homeless, your last bath was exactly two days ago, you look grubby standing just a little bit behind Hoseok. Anyone who would see you now would definitely turn their nose up at you and outright ask what you’re doing in their pristine hotel. Though, there isn’t much you can do to prevent that.

When the doors slide close you focus on the button panel, and next to it is a key card scanner and a button under it. The word penthouse is neatly labelled on the button in little black letters, and Hoseok fishes around his coat to pull out a key card. You blink, of course he lives in the penthouse.

The scanner beeps softly and Hoseok presses the button that glows a soft blue before the elevator lurches slight and ascends.

You fiddle nervously with your fingers in front of you, keeping your eyes on your shoes. There’s a shuffle and Hoseok turns to look at you, he’s smiling kindly again, something like pity woven into it and you feel a coil of shame twist in your chest.

“I’m sorry...” You say without much reason, glancing at him and then back down, “For the trouble.”

“No trouble.” Hoseok says softly, concern on his brow, his hand reaching out but stopping short, as though he’s not sure if he could touch you. You’re surprised he even want to. Heck, you’re surprised he’s doing any of this at all. “Really.”

“Do you usually take in random homeless people?” You ask, and his chuckle is light and teasing.

“Only the cute ones.” He says and then looks a little mortified, “Sorry. I’m kidding. It’s just...you looked like you really needed help...so I’m helping.”

“You’re very kind.” You murmur and offer a smile.

He smiles back, not as brightly as his other ones, it curls his mouth less, doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He nods, “I try to be.”

The elevator slows to a stop, doors sliding open to a little well-lit hallway. On the other end of the hall is a wide pane of glass that overlooks the city lights, twinkling in a dance of their own making, and an emergency exit sign jutting out of the wall. You follow Hoseok out of the elevator towards the door which he unlocks with a password — the beeps loud in the quiet — the door opens with a soft thunk and a beep and he lets you walk in first.

The lights are on, as though he’d only planned to be out for a moment. You’re not too sure what to do with yourself now that you’re here, staring at Hoseok’s back unsurely as he takes his shoes off and tucks them neatly on a shoe rack.

He turns to face you, “I don’t mean anything by this, so please don’t misunderstand...”

You nod, waiting for him to continue.

He seems to weigh his words carefully, “Do you want to take a bath?”

You flush, yeah, you surely look grubby enough for him to ask that. It’s warranted, so, you’re not upset that he asked. You’d actually love to, when was the last time you took a bath that wasn’t in the freezing river?

Still though, it’s embarrassing. So you nod silently, “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He says, looking genuinely relieved. “You can leave your stuff here and I’ll take care of everything.”

“Okay...” You step out of your shoes, nudging them in a corner before you take your bag off and set it down. The clothes you have are still damp, stuffed in a plastic bag somewhere in the depths of your tattered backpack and Hoseok doesn’t give you a moment before he’s leading you through his home.

The chill of the grey tiled floor runs up your legs through your thin, threadbare socks. You don’t have much time to look around, but you’re aware you’ve passed an open space kitchen and living room, splashes of white, reds and black in the corner of your vision.

He lets you into the bathroom, “Use whatever you need. The towels and things are in the cabinet.”

You turn to face him, “I really can’t thank you enough.” You say earnestly, and he waves you off, turning to leave and shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

“I’ll bring you some clothes that you could use.” He says through the door, his voice muffled. You thank him again and his footsteps trail away.

You turn and glance around the bathroom, floor to ceiling glass panes makes up the furthest wall. Before it is a porcelain bathtub that could easily fit three people, on a raised platform of white stained marble, and that platform on another, creating a single step up in order to get into the tub. The colour of the platforms compliments the dark reflective marble floor. The undersides of the platforms are lined with what you assume must be LED lights, glowing a pale white along the bottom.

The same LEDs line the back of the large wall mounted mirror, giving it an ominous glow. Below the mirror is a dark granite sink with a faucet you’re not even sure how to turn on. The cabinet below the sink house only cleaning supplies, and you look around for the towel space.

The shower takes up nearly the whole wall it’s connected to, frosted glass and jets embedded into the wall.  

You walk over to the shower and realise that was wall beside it sorts of curve and you let out a surprised sound when you walk the short way towards the back of it. The ‘cabinet’ is more of a little walk-in closet, there’s a few fluffy looking bathrobes sorted by length and colour, and towels and washcloths stacked on shelves that match.

Under those are neat little space savers filled with bath oils and shower gels, sweet scented candles tucked into corners. Bar soaps and toilet paper on their own shelves at the bottom, unopened toothbrushes and what have you.

There’s enough room to turn full circle without bumping into anything if you step into it. But you look at your hands and decide to not touch anything until they're clean.

So you walk back out to the sink, frowning at the faucet with no visible way to turn it on; it’s just a sleek piece of metal that curves back into the basin. You look at it to and fro and wave your hand under it, startling slightly when water sprays from the faucet. You hold your hand away and it turns off after a moment. Now, your parents had money but it wasn’t anything like this.

You can’t imagine the cost of this place.

You find hand soap after peeking into the cabinet below the sink again, taking your time to thoroughly wash your hands clean. It’s hard to see the dirt go down the drain against the dark granite, but you’re grateful. You inspect your hands once your done, and finally allow yourself to touch Hoseok’s things. You take a towel down from the shelf, the one that’s at the top of the pile. It’s a nice pale yellow, and near the bottom right corner is a little blue butterfly embroidered into the fabric. After a little debate with yourself, you pull the washcloth that matches from its pile.

You set the towel on the closed lid of the toilet, and strip out of your clothes. You fold them neatly and set them on the floor along with your socks, stuffing your underwear into the pocket of your jacket. You step into the shower and pull the door shut behind you.

You turn the knobs and adjust the water so that’s it not too hot, and for a moment, you simply stand there. The water flows over your skin in rivulets, washing away the sweat and grime of the past two days. You try not to take too long, but made sure that you’re thoroughly scrubbed clean. You try not to use too much of Hoseok’s things, even though he’d told you to use whatever you needed.

You’re not sure how long you were in there, how long you stood letting the water wash away your tears as well.

When you step out, steam billowing put behind you, you wiggle your toes into the fluffy cotton mat under you, wrapping the towel around your form. It feels nice to be clean, skin feeling a little raw from the hot water. You tiptoe to the door and ease it open, and it pushes lightly against a bundle of folded clothes on the ground. Next to it, a pair of warm looking house slippers that you shuffle into immediately after drying your feet.

The clothes: a dark grey long sleeve crew neck tee that hangs just a little off one shoulder, a pair of boxer shorts still in it’s wrapping, and long fleece lined sweatpants that you have to fold at your ankles.

Near the door is a towel rack where you hang the towel you used to dry, and after taking a breath, you step out of the bathroom.

You walk back the way Hoseok led you, and the air is prickled with the scent of freshly made food and it makes you wonder just how long you took in the bathroom.

The kitchen is a wide space, between the area that makes up the entrance hallway is a kitchen island, and much like everything else you’ve seen, is a long, polished slab of dark marble. There’s a sink in the middle, sleek and silver and soft white light comes from the fixings above it. Across from that is a large refrigerator, an electric stove and more counter space. There are a few scattered appliances, a coffee maker and a small espresso machine tucked under a cupboard over them, and a blender with something or the other in it.

Hoseok stands with his back to you, he turns slightly, looking over his shoulder and startles.

“Oh – shit.” He laughs softly, “Hey, was your bath okay?”

“Sorry...” You apologize for scaring him and he waves you off, turning to face you fully. He scans your form but there’s nothing odd in the action, and he nods to himself at whatever he was looking for. “Oh, yeah. My bath was okay, thank you.”

“Dinner’s ready if you...oh...” he glances to the side, back to you and then to whatever he’s got going on the stovetop. “...This might be too heavy for you right now...” He murmurs to himself, a hand scratching at the back of his neck. He looks sheepish, a little guilty about something he didn’t consider.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll eat whatever it is.” You’re not about to make him waste his food, or be impolite.

“Okay, well.” He presses a button on the stove panel, turning to the island. There’s the sound of a drawer opening and he pulls out a kitchen towel, smiling at you. He nods his head to the right, where, tucked to the wall is a modest sized wooden table. There’re two plates of what he’s made already there, and tall glasses of water. “Go ahead.”

You walk over to the table, pulling out the chair to sit. Dinner is creamy mashed potatoes, a hearty portion of steamed mixed veggies and steak that’s somehow done to your liking and already cut into pieces. Your mouth waters at the sight and it smells so good you could cry. Hoseok isn’t finished at the island, so you busy yourself with folding the sleeves of your borrowed tee-shirt up and out of the way.

When he comes over he frowns a little, “You didn’t have to wait, dove.” He takes his seat opposite you, “Please, eat.”

The random pet name flies over your head, not that you would’ve been bothered by it had you been paying attention. Hoseok was kind enough to open his home to you, let you use his things and now he’s feeding you. He could call you whatever he likes.

You murmur a thank you and dig into your food. The sound you make when you take the first bite borders on erotic, but your gracious host doesn’t seem to mind very much. There’s a pleased glint in his eyes and a small curl to his mouth as he watches you eat for a moment.

You’re too hungry to be embarrassed by the intensity of his stare, but you’re mindful to not choke or look like you left your manners somewhere at your feet.

The food settles in your stomach, heavy but it’s a feeling you welcome. You could barely remember the last time you had a full meal. The bite you swallow brings the odd feeling of it slowing down behind your sternum, and you take a long drink of the cold water Hoseok had set out for you.

The man himself barely touched his own food, seemingly content to watch you scarf yours down. He has his chin propped in his hand, a small curl to the corner of his mouth and a glint of something in his eyes.

“Thank you...for the food.” You stare at your plate, drizzled with gravy and what’s left of your dinner. You can’t meet his gaze and you’re not certain why, and the intensity of it is starting to gnaw on your senses.

“No need for thanks, little dove.” Hoseok says, and there’s a soft clink when he finally picks his fork up and it knocks against the round rim of the plate. “Just doing my good deed for the day.”

The pet name strikes you this time, no longer distracted by the delicious food and your rumbling tummy. The way it rolls off his tongue sends a shiver racing down your spine, one that was decidedly unpleasant. There’s something in his tone, the way he stares when you raise your eyes to meet his, something in his beautiful heart shaped smile.

The fine hairs at the back of your neck raises, and you’re back to feeling like a bunny in a fox’s burrow. It was the same feeling you’d gotten earlier in the strange fog; the primal sense that you’re no longer the apex.

Something like a bell jingles in the back of your mind and grows louder until its a wailing alarm.

You should leave. Thank him for being so kind and get as far away from him as possible.

The look in his eyes unnerves you, but it’s something you can’t put a finger on. Just off the edge of his form something flutters, a shadow that shouldn’t be there, but it’s gone so quickly you didn’t have time to focus on it. The feeling intensifies; tugging, now.

You don’t think he’s blinked.

A shudder runs through you, rippling along your skin like a shockwave and Hoseok is calling your name.

“Are you okay?” there’s concern on his brow, his unoccupied hand raised in a wave as though he’s been trying to get your attention for a while. “Do you feel sick?”

“N... no. I’m fine, thank you.” You try to smile, but you’re pretty certain it looks as strained as it feels. He was almost done eating, though he’s paused to asses you with furrowed brows. You feel like you’ve missed something in the past minute.

“I asked if you wanted more food but you just blanked on me.” Hoseok sets his fork down and you feel like you’re losing your mind. The feeling from before is gone, and you’re not even certain if you felt it in the first place. Maybe you’re tired, or maybe the feeling of the comforts you’ve missed for so long is messing with your head.

Hoseok looks perfectly normal, there’s nothing flickering at his back or anything odd in his stare.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure.” You don’t feel certain, and if Hoseok noticed he didn’t comment on it. You pick up the fork again, scraping up the little left of your food onto it quietly. You feel strange, as though the past two minutes moved by too quickly, or like they happened weeks ago and you’re struggling to cling to the details of them.

Hoseok is focused on his plate, and uncertainty at the hope that he keeps his eyes there blooms in your chest. You’re not sure why.

It’s awkwardly quiet for a couple moments, with Hoseok finishing his meal and you, playing with the folded ends of your borrowed tee-shirt. When he was done, he takes the plates and the empty glasses to the sink to clean them and you sit idly at the table.

He’s drying his hands with a dark kitchen towel when he’s done, settling at the edge of the island and facing you. The overhead lights glow against his form, casting shadows along his visage that makes him look sharper; menacing. It clings to his hair like a depiction of something holy, making his dark hair look russet in the gleam.

You go to thank him again, even though he’d probably wave you off like he’s been doing the whole time, but the lights are too bright. The glow of the lights swells and flood your eyes, you squeeze them shut, trying to dispel the ache that comes with it. You turn your head and it feels like you’re neck deep in mud, it takes too much effort to do something so simple.

Panic wells in your chest, sending your heart kicking against your ribs harshly. You take a breath, well, you try, but it gets stuck somewhere in your throat and you choke on it.

There’s two Hoseoks when you peel your eyes open, and they neatly fold the towel they were using and put it down. For a minute, your vision settles, and the man leans against the island nonchalantly, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he watches you spiral.

“You should try to calm down.” He says softly, and you hate the way you cling to the sound of his voice when it’s very clear what’s happening.

“Wh...” Your tongue feels heavy, and the words you try to say are slurred and unintelligible. You move to stand, trying to get away even when your limbs feel like there’s a ball and chains at the ends of them. The world tilts on an axis, doubling as you make to your feet, you’re not sure if it’s leaning or you are.

Hoseok reaches you in a single step and a strangled sound escapes you. He places a hand on your shoulder, gently guiding you back into the chair. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing your body can’t handle.”

You can barely hear him, your ears feel as though there’s cotton in them, reducing his words to a muddled murmur. You can’t feel the way his fingers curl into the hair at your nape, but you notice the shift as he tilts your heavy head back to look up at him.

He’s smiling, you think. Pretty and heart shaped, all white teeth and sinister. And there’s that feeling again, as he says something you can’t hear, can’t focus, your eyes are closing.

There’s something dark and broken that flickers against the light above his head and shadows that dance at his back.

When the morning came and you didn’t wake, Hoseok wasn’t too concerned. He watched over you as once was his duty to another, tucked you into the sheets and the blankets and let you sink into the warmth of them. He sits in a chair at your bedside, simply watching the rise and fall of your chest and the pinch of your brow as sweat beads upon it.

Your body is fighting hard to flush out what he put in, and he admits, he may have given you a bit too much of it. It wasn’t his intention, but nothing can be done now but wait for you to come to.

When the afternoon comes and the first sign of your conscious shows in a weak attempt to rouse yourself, and a jumble of words that Hoseok deciphers with a well-trained ear it; was clear you weren’t fully there yet. Your skin was too warm, eyes not nearly focused enough, barely looking at him, and then the contents of your stomach come in a rush of bile and acid.

Hoseok tends to you gently, patiently, taking you to the bath and settling you in a way so that you don’t slip under and drown in your unconscious state. He cleans your mess, changes the bedding, puts you in a fresh set of clothes and lays you back to rest.

You stay asleep throughout the day, and Hoseok isn’t too concerned.

Humans are such fragile, foolish things. To him, you’re a porcelain doll, pretty to stare at and admire if it sits on the top of a shelf behind a case. Take it out of that case and it’s so easily broken. Hoseok is like a child in a sandbox of his own creation with too much power in his fingers. If he isn’t careful, he could shatter your form and lose you to the dunes.

The fear you felt the night before played you directly into his hands – never mind he had nothing to do with it – and Hoseok knows, you don’t have to be inclined to feel the weight of his presence. Your mind knew that something wasn’t quite right -- unconsciously or not --, and yet, you willingly followed.

Foolish.

Though, it was purely coincidental that you ran into him, he had been on his way to somewhere and wondering about the strangeness of the fog that rolled in out of nowhere. He hadn’t missed the weird quiet and lack of people either, it hadn’t been that late.

He doesn’t know exactly what you were doing in it, running around the way you were like a mouse in a maze. It’s something that sits at the back of his mind.

The morning of the second day brought no change; you were in and out of your drug induced sleep, and now, Hoseok was a little concerned.

::

“How much did you give her?”

There’s a squeak of leather as Seungcheol crosses his arms, when it’s quiet for far too long he gives Hoseok a look.

“A little.”

Seungcheol leans over your sleeping form, raising a hand to rest against your forehead. Hoseok would think you were dead if it weren’t for the steady rise and fall of your chest.

“If it was a little, you wouldn’t have called.” Seungcheol says, shaking his head, the dark waves of his hair brushing his eyelashes.

“Well, she’s not dead.”

“Dude.” Seungcheol looks a little disturbed, straightening to stare at Hoseok with a displeased furrow in his brow. “You can’t just – humans have limitations.”

“I’m aware, Cheol. Thank you.” Hoseok grumbles, and he ignores the raise of Seungcheol’s eyebrow and the clear disbelief in his eyes.

“‘Course you are.” He rolls his eyes and then sighs lowly, he turns back to you, placing his hand on your forehead again until the tension in your face fades. “Don’t give her any more of that shit. She should wake up sometime today, maybe.”

Hoseok knows better than anyone the limitations of humans. Not that he acknowledges them, he hadn’t the need to in a long time, but he should be careful at least.

Hoseok leads the way out of his guest bedroom with Seungcheol following and closing the door gently behind him. Walking to the kitchen he could feel his eyes burning into the back of his head.

Hoseok takes his time, fetching a glass from one of his cupboards and the whisky he keeps stashed away for his more stressful days. “Spit it out.”

Seungcheol braces his arms on the other side of the island, eyes dark. “Hoseok. I normally don’t care what you get up to; it’s not my business.” He says, looking somewhere to Hoseok’s right. “You don’t fuck around with humans. Who’s the girl?”

Hoseok hums, looking down at the amber liquid in his glass with a contemplative stare. “Street urchin. No one anyone would miss or bother to look for.”

“So you just took her off the street?” Seungcheol frowns, but Hoseok could tell from the look in his eyes that he knows it’s not that simple.

“She came willingly.” Hoseok corrects, taking a sip of the alcohol he could barely taste.

He sets the glass down on the island and pours the whisky to fill half. Seungcheol is quiet, and Hoseok hates it. It gives his mind a moment to wonder, to open a box he’s kept locked and chained.

On most days, Hoseok barely knows himself. He remembers what he’s supposed to be – what he was – and sometimes, that part of him rears its head to fight with what he’s become. Wings dipped in gold and divinity at the end of his fingertips battle endlessly with the shadows that encased him.

A memory of a time he held something as fragile as glass in his hands, broken before he could properly hold it by someone who was supposed to keep it safe. The ache of it burns like a rash that never goes away, always there, only hiding under his skin until it flares up again.

“Just... don’t do anything stupid.” Seungcheol says after a while, watching Hoseok carefully.

“You and your moral compass.” Hoseok shakes his head, and just like that, the golden light is bundled up tightly and pushed back into the corner where he long hid it.

Seungcheol heaves a sigh, shaking his head, picking up his bag he threw on the island counter when he got here.

“I need you to do something for me.” Hoseok says, watching the light shine through the glass in pretty crystal shapes. There’s a furrow of Seungcheol’s brows, but he tells Hoseok to continue with a raise of his chin. “Keep an eye out for a fog.”

“A fog? Why?”

“She was in one the night before.” Hoseok sucks air in through his teeth, “and she wasn’t alone.”

Seungcheol hums, “Alright.”

Hoseok drinks the last of the whisky in one go and waves a hand at Seungcheol, “You can go now.”

“Thank you, Cheol. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” Seungcheol grumbles and then raps his knuckles against the countertop. “I’ll be over here for a few days, gotta sort some things out. Call if you need me.”

Hoseok watches him leave, stuffing his hands into his pocket as he walks back to the bedroom where you still lay asleep.

He sits on the chair, watching the rise and fall of your chest, every minute twitch of your facial features. Restlessness tugs at his limbs as the sun makes its descent western sky, spraying the dimming canvas in hues of lilac and peach.

Something in the back of his mind asks what exactly he’s doing. There was no reason – there wasn’t a reason for him to take you in. A sprout of boredom, maybe, or something involuntary.

Hoseok stares out the window at the slowly darkening sky and the soft glimmer of early evening stars, until the sky is navy and darkness clings to the room.

Your mouth feels like someone’s stuffed cotton in it, and your throat feels like sandpaper when you try to swallow.

You haven’t opened your eyes, laying on what you presume is a bed, if the softness beneath you was anything to go by.

There’s not much that you remember, even as the fog in your mind clears little by little. You remember eating, you remember feeling strange like someone had shrunk you and shook you around in a jar of water. You remember the fear that quickened your heart and your breaths and Hoseok, standing above you like a malevolent God.

You remember the strangeness of his form, and even now your mind can’t comprehend it. You’re not even certain if what you saw was actually real and not an effect of whatever Hoseok had drugged you with.

Drugged.

He drugged you.

Your eyes open and the room is dark. The blankets are thick and heavy and they make you feel warm. There’s a window to your far left, curtains drawn back to show the city in all it’s glory.

Slowly, you sit up, pushing yourself upwards on arms that feel a little weak, and find – to your horror – the clothes you were wearing before aren’t what you’re wearing now.

You take a breath before the panic could set in. You could feel it rolling under your skin like a rumble of thunder before rain, and you try your best to stay calm. You need to find a way out of here.

The apartment seems to be quiet as you slide your feet out of the bed and onto the floor. You barely register the chill of it when you stand, sock-less feet making it easier to sneak over to the door without making a sound. You don’t know where Hoseok put your things, and you don’t have time to go looking for them.

The door isn’t locked, and doesn’t make noise when you push it open slightly to peek out through the little gap you made. You recognise the hallway, the bathroom is two doors down on the other side, and opening the door a little more, you poke your head out tentatively. 

You don’t breathe as you listen, but it’s so quiet, so much so that your exhale seems too loud, and there’s a soft ringing in your ears that set you on edge. Stepping outside the room, you contemplate your next course of action: You can bolt right for the door and get out, but risk making too much noise if Hoseok is indeed here. Or, you can slowly and quietly make your way over and slip out without cluing your kidnapper in on your escape.

Can it be called kidnapping if you were living on the streets?

The door seems miles away as you inch slowly towards the open kitchen and living room area. There are a few lights on, the same LED lighting strips run along the edge of the large pane windows and glows an ominous blue and the lights over the marble island had been dimmed. Both rooms seem empty and you couldn’t be more thankful.

Like a mouse, you skitter across along the hallway space that divides the two, down the little platform at the entrance and take one more step towards the door.

The door that seems further back than it was a second ago.

The stretch of space that was just an arm’s length away was now more than a hallway’s length. You stand still and stare at it, reaching an arm out in case you’re suddenly tripping balls but your hand swipes through air and falls limply at your side.

You look behind you and the rooms and hallway are just as they were, and turning back, the door was right where it was before. You could’ve sworn there was a handle on it. You place your palm against the cool, smooth surface where the handle should be and in the face of your freedom thwarted, you pinch your thigh.

You must be dreaming. The pain flares and grounds you and you realise there’s no explanation for this. You’re wide awake. Still drugged then. But you feel fine. There’s no swirling vision or heavy limbs, your mouth doesn’t feel like someone squeezed glue into it; you’re fine. This doesn’t make sense.

You back away from the door and almost stumble against the raised ledge behind your heels. Steadying yourself with a hand against the wall, you turn, and immediately, notice the darkness of the hallway.

Your breath catches in your throat and your heart slams so harshly against your sternum it hurt. There’s that feeling again, it sends a shiver racing down your spine and scattering goosebumps along your skin. You’re being watched. You are not the apex here.

You want to run, or curl up into a ball and hope the darkness hides you. Fear coils into your muscles and locks them tight, and you’re left standing still, eyes darting around trying to make sense of the shapes in the dark.

There’s a darkness that curls at the center of the space a few feet away from you, undulating and crashing in on itself in an uncoordinated dance of chaos. It’s somehow darker than the darkness – stands out against it like white on black paint. It doesn’t make sense to you, and it could simply be your mind turning against you and scaring you further.

It slowly floats towards you, wraps around you in a languid, bored way, like smoke, no longer as tangible as it seemed before. You don’t feel it’s caress, but it’s cold, like you’d submerged yourself into a tub full of ice and water. You feel as though you’ll pass out, like the black wisps of strange smoke is filling your lungs and carving its way through. There’s fear, which is yours, and something that isn’t.

Something dark and lonely, desperate and afraid. It’s sad, so sad that you feel like you’ll drown in it, that tears would well in your eyes and squeeze your throat tight. There’s anger. It feels as though you can burn the world and revel in it.

The smoke snaps back and away from you, crumples on itself violently and then the lights are on, blinding you.

Hoseok is standing in front of you. There’s a mix of conflicted emotions on his face like he can’t settle on one before the storm in his eyes calm.

There’s a tenseness to his brow, and he studies you quietly with a tilt of his head.

“You’re awake.”

He takes one step forward and you take two back in turn. His eyes dart down to your feet and quickly back to your face, and draws the foot he put forward back to himself.

“I won’t hurt you.”

You scoff before you could help it, fear pushed slightly to the side as your anger rushes forward. “Right. Like I’ll believe that after you fucking drugged me.”

“Like I said, it was nothing your body couldn’t handle.” Hoseok counters calmly, “If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be dead.”

“Then why am I here? What do you want?” His threat didn’t go unheard, it settles into your mind and buries itself underneath everything else you’re trying to absorb for you to freak out about later.

Hoseok smiles, and its bright in its visage, every bit of sweet and caring as you thought him to be. Dimples you haven’t noticed before sinks into his laugh lines, and you think briefly, it makes him even more dangerous. He looks so harmless, as his smile blossoms and blooms into the heart shape you remember from the night before.

“Just you.” He says, eyes glinting with something you’ve decided is more than a little crazy.

You take another step back and he remains in his spot. If you’re quick enough – just enough – you can make it to the door. You might be able to outrun him.

“You can leave if you like.” He says, like he could tell what you’re thinking – or read your mind – and his smile fades, like a raincloud swelling and covering the warm rays of the sun. “Can’t guarantee you’d get very far, so I advise against it.”

You’re not sure if he’s being honest. Though, he looks pretty damn serious. He stares at you quietly, intensely, like he’s daring you to make that mistake. You hazard a look at the door behind you and the handle is still gone.

“What are you?” you ask, turning to face him and he’s directly in front of you. The startled squeak that leaves you makes him chuckle. Bending at his waist, Hoseok stares right into your eyes and you feel like your heart might just burst out of your chest and take off running.

Bunny in a fox’s burrow.

“Hm.” He hums, “Now you’re asking questions.” He straightens with a smile and steps aside, gesturing to the kitchen with a slight nod of his head. “I’ll tell you eventually. For now though, you should eat.”

You stay rooted to your spot and decide that if he wants you to move, he’s going to have to move you himself. He’s insane if he thinks you’d be eating anything he gives you.

“Come now, dove. Don’t be that way.” He sighs, stares at you for a moment later before nodding. He turns on his heel and walks into the kitchen without you.

There’re the soft clangs of him moving things around, doing whatever he’s doing in there.

“You’ve been unconscious for two days, and you’ve been sick. You shouldn’t be standing.” You hear him say from the kitchen, and you think you could make another attempt at the door but the handle is still missing, so you have no choice but to go.

You eye him suspiciously when you enter, watching as he butters a piece of toast and puts it on a plate. He doesn’t look at you as you hover unsurely at the dining table, watching the lights catch on the dark marble island counter.

“I won’t give you anything to drink. Get it yourself if you’re worried I’d try something.” He says softly, and not unkind. There’s a shift in his tone and the way his body moves as he brings the plate over. You feel like the man who was standing in front of you a couple of minutes ago in the hallway had hidden himself away and the man you’d met on the street had crawled his way back to the surface.

He sets it down on the table and walks back around the island, opposite from where you’re standing, and out of the kitchen.

You’ve been here for two days – whatever he’d given you must have been strong as hell – trapped here with...him. You’re certain you can’t call him a man, he’s something more than that and you won’t know until he tells you. Most of the memory of the night you came here are blurry and frayed at the edges, making them impossible to cling to and analyse.

There was something strange in the moments before the drug kicked in and right before you passed out. Something strange about Hoseok, but you can’t seem to recall it. It’s like it happened years ago.

The inconsistencies of your memory leave you on edge, and you eye the two slices of perfectly buttered toast on the plate. He’s given you something light enough that your stomach won’t be upset. As the thought comes to mind you faintly remember being sick at some point, but that too is fuzzy and you aren’t sure if its real. At least now the change of clothes makes sense, though, it doesn’t make you feel any better. He could’ve done anything to you while you were drugged and unconscious.

You wonder what he could possibly want with you. Why you, of all people? You’re just a girl who had everything taken from her and thrown off the ladder, now at rock bottom fending for yourself. There’s nothing left of you that could be given.

You feel Hoseok’s presence before you see him, a sort of odd pressure in the back of your mind and your chest. He pokes his head into the room like he’s checking to see if you’d started eating or not and doesn’t look surprised to see you’d left the toast untouched and you’re still standing.

“The toast is fine, you know.” He says, and there’s an understanding in his eyes when he looks at you. He knows you don’t trust him, though, he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He sighs when you don’t make a move and comes into the kitchen. He takes the same route as before, walking around the opposite side of the island – away from you – until he’s standing at the other side of table.

“Okay.” He says, picking up one of the toast slices, he bites into it and stares at you while he chews. “Make something yourself then.”

You blink, “Huh?”

“The bread is in the fridge if you want. There’re oats if you prefer that instead. Stick to light things. I’d rather not be cleaning up after you.” You don’t understand him. In the short time you’ve known him, he’s like a square that’s trying to fit into a circle. The circle is too round to accommodate his sharp edges, but he somehow manages to get just half of the square through, even if the circle is struggling to contain it.

Not to mention the weird things that’s happened within the half hour you’ve been awake, things he’s yet to explain to you. Matter of fact, strange things has been happening since you left Abigail. The police officer, the fog, and whatever the hell was out there in it with you. You’re not even sure if that was real either.

You feel like if you focus on it, you’ll go crazy. So your mind does the only thing it can do to protect itself – pushes it away into a corner to mull over later along with everything else.

“I’d rather not.” You no longer feel the need to show him gratitude. You feel stupid, for one, why did you think trusting a random stranger would be a good thing?

Hoseok shrugs, dropping the half-eaten toast back onto the plate. He walks around you, close enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stands on end, that the warning bells are going crazy in your head again.

It’s uncomfortable being this close. The reaction is visceral, unable to ignore and you wonder why you hadn’t felt it the night before. Why you’d manage to follow him all the way here and not noticed. Maybe you had, briefly and in little moments that were small enough for you to brush them off.

You watch him watch you as he circles you like a vulture, “What are you?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was human?” He asks from behind you, and it feels like a terrible idea to have your back to him. He sounds amused, like this is nothing but a little game to him – just something to pass time while he’s bored.

As he rounds your right, your eyes meet the darkness of his. “You’re not.” It would be strange if you still thought he was after everything that’s happened already.

Hoseok hums, a twinkle lighting his eyes, “Perceptive, aren’t we?” There’s something like pride in his voice but you’re not sure what it’s for, “What do you think I am?”

“You expect me to guess correctly?” The difference in your height does nothing to stop you from glaring at him. He tilts his head at you, dark locks of his hair swaying against his forehead gently.

“No.” Hoseok smiles, “But it’ll make things interesting. I like games; play along.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his tone and the darkness in his eyes. He takes a step away from you and it feels like you can finally take a breath. His movements are fluid as he pulls the dining chair out from below the table. He sits gracefully, propping his chin in his palm as he watches you expectantly.

“Do you want a hint?” He asks, smiling sweetly.

“Why don’t you just tell me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You’re tired of whatever game he’s playing at, sick of the fear that keeps you standing still as he stares you down.

He stares at you like you’re a complex puzzle he’s trying to piece together. “I used to be an angel. Fallen from grace.”

You’d laugh at the absurdity of his words, but he has that look again. He has that look that makes you believe him, and everything seems to click into place and make sense, even if you barely understand it at all.

“Okay.” You nod, and then take a seat. You focus on the gentle waves of his dark hair and not his eyes, “Why am I here? Why can’t I leave?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. You can if you want to. I said that I can’t guarantee you’d get far; You weren’t alone out in that fog.”

You’d almost forgotten about that. Recent happenings had been enough to push it to the back of your mind. You knew you weren’t losing your mind that night, something had definitely chased you and you’re positive it wasn’t a regular animal.

“But that’s another topic.” Hoseok mumbles, more to himself than you, and it looks as though his thoughts strayed elsewhere for a moment before he focused. “You should be thanking me.” He says, tilting his head to meet your gaze with a smile.

He couldn’t be seriously wanting you to thank him. For what? Saving you? For all you know it could’ve been one of his tricks. Why would you thank him? He says that you could leave if you like – him messing with you since you woke up says otherwise. He’s not actually giving you a choice. You’re not going anywhere unless he lets you.

When you remain silent, he leans forward, pink tongue darting out to moisten his lips. “There’s nothing for you out there, though.”

You know he’s right. But that doesn’t justify what he’s doing. You assume he doesn’t care, if you were him, you wouldn’t feel the need to abide by law either.

You’d never been much for fantasy stories, growing up you were well aware that they were just that – stories. Your parents weren’t very religious, but you’d say grace before meals, pray before you go to sleep and when you woke up. Your parents would sometimes quote the bible when you were being naughty and every now and again you’d find yourself in a church for Sunday mas.

Your father used to say that the bible is a book of stories and lessons, and even if you aren’t to abide strictly by it, you should at least heed it. There’s someone up above, watching always.

The angels in the bible were described differently than the man before you, you think. Can angels really do things so bad that it gets them casted out?

Did he do something bad that got him sent here like some wayward child sent off to boot camp?

Even if a part of you is ever doubtful, his existence proves the existence of a higher being and you have some choice words for them.

In the days that go by, you remain wary of Hoseok. You don’t trust him, but you appreciate him letting you hover about him anytime he makes you something to eat. He makes everything from scratch and you wonder most of the time if it’s a skill he just has or was it something he had to hone on his own.

He barely bothers you, goes about his business, which really, entails him sitting in the living room and ignoring you.

Some days is another story entirely. You came to realise quickly that Hoseok is fond of games, usually at your expense. A shadow following you here, whispers that come from no where and bounces off the walls.

There are moments when you catch glimpses of something out of the corner of your eye – a figure lurking in the darkness, just beyond your line of sight. When you turn to look, there’s nothing there, leaving you to wonder if it was ever really there at all. You’ve seen shit at the corner of your vision way too many times for it to be a coincidence. You try to brush them off as tricks of the mind, but deep down, you know it’s not that simple.

Hoseok is always there when it happens, some sort of mirth in his eyes like your suffering is amusing.

The feeling of being watched becomes a constant presence, a weight on your shoulders that you can’t shake no matter how hard you try. Every time you turn around, you half expect to find Hoseok lurking in the shadows, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your discomfort.

For the first week it’s been this way, and when the second week started, he’d leave at one point during the day. Bored of you most likely, not that you’re complaining; at least he was no longer trying to send you crazy.

He’d give you the same instruction he did the night be brought you, use anything you need with additions of ‘Don’t cause trouble’ and ‘Stay put’. You always roll your eyes at that, the door remains the same; missing it’s handle. You couldn’t leave even if you wanted to.

You would stand in the living room, which looks much like the rest of Hoseok’s penthouse apartment; sleek and dark. There’s a few accents of white and red, black leather couches and clear glass tables. A flat screen TV you’ve never seen used mounted on the wall, a fluffy white rug covering the space between it and the couch. You’ve seen no other electronics besides that, nothing that you can use to contact anyone.

He’d left you things to occupy your time – like you’re a child – books and puzzles and what have you. And you found that the TV works if you become bored of the other things.

Weirdly enough, there’s people outside and below, unlike the night you came when it looked like a ghost town. You can see the glint of the sun bouncing off of shiny cars driving in and out of the hotel’s compound. Little people walking around as they go about their days, oblivious to your plight.

Sometimes you would hear someone out in the hallway beyond the door, like someone coming to clean and you would bang on the door and be as loud as you possibly could. It’s like you’re a ghost. You asked him about that once, and he told you that he can mimic spaces, make it seems as though something is or isn’t there.

Sometimes Hoseok would come back from his little excursions and be as normal as he could be. He’d talk to you like he isn’t holding you captive, ask you about what you did for the day as though there’s a million and one things you could do while there. You’d answer as to not be on the wrong side of him, even though it’s clear that he doesn’t quite mind you not saying anything back. He’d ask you what you’d like for dinner, and he’d eat with you.

On days like those it feels... normal. You feel comfortable and the nature of the situation escapes you. Like this had been your life for as long as you could remember. And sometimes you think, that maybe, if things were different. If perhaps he hadn’t kidnapped you, ‘helping’ you or otherwise. Maybe if your life had gone a little differently and you’d met him under different circumstances...then maybe.

Sometimes on those days he’d sit quietly as you give him little pieces of you; telling him about your childhood and not so important things. He’d clear the coffee table to put a puzzle together and ask you to help him with it.

Some days he’d come back and he wouldn’t be in a good mood. He’d stand and brood at the large windows looking out, lost in thought. On those days he’d look gone, vacant, as though whatever going on in his head was paramount to the reality around him. His eyes are sad then, and he’d be so quiet you’d forget he’s there. He’d make dinner, and he would not eat.

On days like those, if you wake at night and venture out of your room, you’d find Hoseok as you did the night you first woke up. A swirling ball of shadows and smoke somewhere about, and the lights are always off. It scares the hell out of you every time. It reminds you of what he is, despite the nature of his existence, there’s something very dark about him. He scares you mostly, even when he’s being nice, it’s unnerving. You’d try to stay clear of him then.

Something in your mind had been made aware that he is beyond your understanding. He’s stronger and faster than you, can do things that makes your brain grind to a halt trying to process. Sometimes it feels like he’s in your head, watching your every move and surveying your every thought. It scares you.

On days like those, the last thing you want to do is sleep.

Sleep evades you and when you do finally catch it, your dreams are wrought with nightmares of shadows and screams and blood. Sometimes Hoseok is there and he’s less kind than he’s ever been, and you’re lost in darkness and can’t find your way out.

Sometimes it’s a man with red hair lurking at the corners of them, smiling and taunting you. You feel like you could never escape them, like your dreams lasts the entire night and leave you exhausted when you wake up.

The room you woke up in so long ago was yours; Hoseok stays clear of it and never enters without knocking. One day Hoseok had brought you clothes you’re certain costs more than your life, they’re mostly comfort clothes as you have nowhere to be at no point in time. From sweaters to tee-shirts, lounge pants to bicycle shorts and an assortment of underwear that made you scowl at him.

That day you asked him just how long he was going to keep you captive – he didn’t much like the use of that word, prefers ‘keeping you safe’. He told you about the mysterious animal that chased you in the fog, that he and a friend are looking into it and reminds you that you wouldn’t get very far should you leave. You reminded him that he’s not letting you go anywhere.

You stare up at the ceiling, counting the swirling pattern from one corner to the next. You’ve lost count of them every time and you’ve lost count on just how long you’ve been here. Hoseok remains the same, fluctuating between rivalling the sun and being the moon that sometimes eclipse it.

It’s the morning of yet another day, and you can hear Hoseok moving about already. Sometimes you wonder if he ever sleeps...does he need sleep? He eats...that much is for certain, so by any rate he functions partially human.

You sigh softly, getting out of bed and shuffling your feet to the house slippers Hoseok gave to you. There’s the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen, the sound of Hoseok moving about, and it sounds like he’s in a good mood if his humming is anything to go by.

You wash up for the morning and get changed before carrying yourself out to the kitchen.

Hoseok looks devastatingly domestic and the smile he directs at you is enough to send your mind haywire. These past few days has been confusing for you. Though the initial fear you felt for him was there, lately, it’s been less. You’ve found yourself missing him when he goes off to do whatever he does during the day and you’re excited when he comes back. You’re chalking up the reason for that being that he’s the only person you’ve been in contact with for possibly a month or two.

On some of the days where he would come back and be less than happy, and the lights go out like they’re scheduled to and Hoseok is no longer tangible. When he hovers in a little ball of controlled chaos that blends into the darkness, you sit and wait. You wait until he’s there again and the lights are back on and he looks at you like you’re something he’s lost.

It confuses you as much as his smile that sends your heart thrumming against your ribcage in a dance that isn’t out of fear. You actually can’t remember when you’d stopped being afraid of him.

“I’m going out today.”

Your brows furrow, he’s never told you that he’s leaving before. He brings over a breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon and sliced fruit. A sealed carton of orange juice and a glass for you.

“Okay...?”

Hoseok smiles, “Okay.”

::

When lunch came around, you’re sitting at the island watching Hoseok prepare the ingredients for whatever he’s going to make.

You don’t really feel the need to watch him as closely as you did when you first got here, now you simply do it because there isn’t anything better to do.

He moves in the kitchen like it’s a dance, turning to and fro with a grace you could only hope to have.

He’s already got something on the stove, some sort of sauce you think. It smells amazing and you’re looking forward to whatever it could be.

He looks a bit in his head, brows furrowed as he concentrated a little too hard to just be cutting an onion into crescent slices. He mutters something under his breath, turning to stir the contents in the pot before going back at the onion.

“Hoseok?” You call softly as he sets the onion aside in a bowl and pulls something else onto the cutting board. For a moment you’re not sure if he’s heard you, with just the steady sound of the knife hitting the board, he hums, glancing at you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.” You can tell he’s in one of his moods, but he’s actively trying to be pleasant. He fills a pot with water and sets it on the stove and then turns the oven on to heat up. “What is it?”

His tone isn’t harsh, just a tad bit impatient.

“Is cooking just something that you can do? Or did you have to learn?”

He turns, pauses, stares at you for a moment and then chuckles, “It’s a skill I acquired through a lot of trial and error. I had a long time to perfect it, though.”

“How long are we talking?” You’re a little intrigued, besides him telling you that he’s a fallen angel, he hasn’t told you exactly how he became one or how long he’s been here.

He tilts his head and smiles gently in the way he does when he’s thinking if he should answer you honestly or not before shrugging, “Long enough.”

You sigh, “Fine. Don’t tell me. You’re probably older than dirt anyway.”

A surprised laugh leaves him, high pitched and a little untamed. The sound is infectious and now you’re laughing too.

Happiness looks good on him, you wish he wore it often.

When it was about four in the afternoon, you hear the closing of Hoseok’s door and the sound of his footsteps walking up the hall.

You’re curled up against the corner of the couch, tucked under a yellow blanket with a book in your hand. You smell him before you see him; the cologne he’s wearing reaching the room before he does.

He steps in and stands near the entrance, the end of his coat brushing against his shins while he secures a watch to his wrist. His hair’s grown longer since he brought you here, curling against his jaw and the bangs are long enough to almost hide his eyes if not for the middle part. The rings on his fingers catch the light of the sun, and he finally settles, a serious look on his face as he watches you for a moment.

He seems to be contemplating something, the muscle of his jaw tensing as he grinds his teeth. He lifts a hand and crooks a finger at you.

Unwrapping yourself from the blanket, you walk over to him. He doesn’t say anything, but levels you with a look and guides you into the hallway with a hand at your back. “I’m leaving the door alone.”

The door is practically singing your freedom, the silver handle looks like a lighthouse at a stormy sea at night. Hoseok is looking down his nose at you when you finally tear your eyes away. His eyes narrow as though he can hear your thoughts and steps away from you.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

And you didn’t. You messed around with the TV, got bored, read another book, and decide to take a nap. Doing it all to ignore the door. You wouldn’t get very far. You really don’t want to know what Hoseok meant by that.

There isn’t anywhere you can go, you have nothing to your name. You get three square meals, clean clothes and a bed to sleep in when night comes – you think about Abigail, you wonder if she’s alright – you’d actually be quite dumb to go out there. Hoseok hasn’t done much but mentally exhaust you, you aren’t chained up in a dank room and being made to do things against your will. It’s actually quite pleasant.

You shuffle to your room and crawl under the covers, suddenly too sleepy to keep your eyes open. You would usually take naps when there’s nothing else for you to do, but you’re never this sleepy. It’s like your body is demanding you close your eyes and pass out right now.

You open your eyes a couple of minutes later and realise you didn’t know you fell asleep. It’s dark out already.

You throw the covers back, scoot to the edge of the bed, and put your feet right into water. You look down at it confused – did you leave a tap on? Hoseok would probably throw you out a window for flooding his place. Or maybe he’ll start up his silly mind games again and drive you nuts.

You’re not too concerned about it, strangely enough, as you get up, the water soaks into the legs of your pants. It’s high enough to lap against the middle of your shins and you curse softly, how could you forget to turn the tap off?

You swish through the water, reaching the door and pulling it open. The water is gone and you’re standing in the living room. Hoseok sits on the couch, one leg lapped over the other, bobbing idly as he turns the page of a thick book balanced on his thigh.

“Hoseok.” You sigh, “Stop it. I’m not in the mood for your stupid games.”

He turns his head slowly to look at you, crooks a finger like he did at you earlier. You stomp over to him, not caring that you probably look rather childish doing so. When you stop in front of him, he gently puts the book aside and then wraps his fingers around your wrist.

Your pulse flutters and you pray that he can’t feel it. A soft squeak leaving you as he tugs you to him, you fumble to catch yourself, trying not to trip over your feet and the carpet. Your hand lands beside his head, sinking into the leather, his eyes meet yours through his hair, and when he pulls you down, you follow without question.

He settles you in his lap, one hand gripping your waist and the other snaking upward to bury itself into your hair. He leans forward, nosing along the underside of your jaw and when the warmth of his tongue streaks against your pulse, a shiver races down your spine before you catch yourself. You push against his shoulder, “Hoseok.”

His chuckle sounds dark to your ears, his grip on your waist tightens enough that you fear you’d bruise. His teeth drag against your earlobe and yours sink into your bottom lip. “Don’t act like this isn’t what you want.”

His words wrap around your head, burying themselves under your skin and makes home there. The hand in your hair slowly slides out of it, moving down until it’s wrapped around your throat. His thumb presses against your racing pulse, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “You want me to break you.”

It’s a moment of bliss, warmth spreading through you before it instantly chills. It’s all fun and games until he’s actually trying to choke you out. Your breaths come in shallow gasps as Hoseok’s grip tightens around your throat, squeezing the air from your lungs. Panic surges through you, and for a moment, you’re certain you’ll pass out from lack of oxygen.

He’s going to kill you.

Desperate, you claw at his hands, trying to pry them away, but his strength overwhelms you. Your struggles intensify as you realize the danger you’re in.

He stands swiftly and lets you go, and you crash unceremoniously into the glass coffee table, nearly breaking your wrist trying to catch your weight. You cough and gasp, clutching at your throat that burns with every breath you take. Your eyes sting with tears as you scramble to put distance between you and him.

He watches you, amused, taking slow steps towards you. He laughs, the sound echoing off the walls and you realise – there’s nowhere to run.

You look up at him, and you’re now facing the windows. The LEDs that line the perimeter of them are glowing a sinister red and they’re the only source of light. There’s something slick under your palms, something you slide in as you try to get up. Inspecting it in the lighting does nothing, as it simply looks dark against your skin, but, there’s no mistaking the scent of copper.

Gazing around, you’re sitting in a pool of blood. Hoseok is nowhere to be found. The pool stretches off like something was dragged through it, going out the living room and down the hall.

You follow it, against your better judgement. This is the worst trick he’s ever played.

Your pants stick to your skin uncomfortably, and you wipe your hands hurriedly against the front of them. It doesn’t do much but spread the mess of blood around. The trail leads into your bedroom, and you stand outside the slightly ajar door with your heart pounding against your ribs.

Raising a hand, you push the door open, but plan to go no further than the threshold. The lights are on, dimly, it doesn’t give you much vision, but you could see Hoseok standing over someone.

It’s you, well...it was you. You’re not sure if you could call that you anymore. Limbs twisted in unnatural angles, sharp ends of bone sticking out from your bruised skin.

You stumble backwards, slipping in the still wet trail of blood and falling against the door behind you. Tears blur your vision, you feel sick.

“You see?” a voice whispers, echoing and bouncing around in your head. “This is what will happen.”

There’s someone else here.

“He’ll kill you.” The voice snickers, crawling along your skin like poison ivy. “Run. Get out.”

You startle awake, gasping for air, searching your body for any sign of blood. The sun is almost setting, preparing to make its descent in the west and you dart out of bed. Your skin feels tight, like you’re too big for it and it makes you uncomfortable. Your breaths are harsh barely making it into your lungs before you’re forcing it out again.

You make for the door, yanking it open and running down the hall. You didn’t stop to think, you just want out. You push the entrance door and it opens and you stumble out into the hallway you haven’t seen in ages.

You run up to the elevator, the overhead floor indicator is blank. And the elevator doesn’t budge when you push the button frantically. Hands caught in your hair you spin around, there must be a way.

The green exit sign glows like a beacon of hope. You trip over your feet getting to it, almost face planting on the expensive rug that lines the hallway. The door opens with a click and your footsteps echo in the stairwell as you take them two at a time to get as far away from this place as possible.

You don’t stop until you’re three flights down, breath ragged and vision spotty. You lean against the wall to catch your breath, panting and wiping the sweat off your brow.

There’s a loud bang that echoes from somewhere below and you freeze. Taking careful steps you peek between the railings and see nothing.

It might be Hoseok.

Or, it could be someone else in the building and your only hope of getting out of here.

“Hello? Is someone ther—” There’s another loud bang, and you take a couple steps down the fourth flight and look over the railing again. A thick fog swirls just a floor below.

The hair on the back of your neck shoots up at the low growl that dances up the stairwell. You nearly go tumbling down it in your haste to turn around and go back up.

As you turn to go back up the third flight, the fog surrounds you and you stop as it becomes impossible to see. You grip tightly to the stair railing, tentatively stepping up – You’re trying not to breathe too loudly.

There’s something scraping against the ground on the stairs below and your heart kicks. You step faster, at the same time trying not to trip and break your neck. There’s a low snarl and you bolt, taking the stair two at a time back up the way you came.

The floor vibrates beneath you as whatever it is gives chase. You make it up to the first landing, pulling the exit door open with a grunt. You’re just about to step through when what feels like three hot butcher knives slices through your back. The force of it sends you pitching forward, smacking hard into the wall on the opposite side before you crumple against it.

You could barely feel it, you’re aware you’re hurt...you could feel the pulsing, open wounds at your back. Your mind is trying to process as you struggle to move, taking a breath aches as you push yourself upward and away from the wall just enough to turn. You don’t manage much more than that, sliding down the wall until your butt hits the pretty red carpet.

The metal door of the emergency exit swings open harshly, banging loudly against the wall before it leans forward; one of the hinges broken. The thing that stands in the doorway looks like it crawled out of some deep, dark part of hell. It’s standing on it’s hind legs before it drops forward, claws that look at least nine inches long scraping against the linoleum.

It looks like a giant dog, honestly. It’s hard to tell when all you could focus on was that you could feel your heartbeat at your back, and the slick warmth soaking into your ruined sweater and pants. Shock maybe...or adrenaline, was keeping most of the pain at bay, you’re pretty sure you’d be dead otherwise right now.

With a guttural growl, the creature emerges, its form contorted and twisted, as if it were forged from the very essence of nightmares.

Its body is a grotesque fusion of twisted flesh and sinew, its skin a sickly shade of mottled grey, stretched taut over bulging muscles that ripple with every movement. Sharp spikes protrude from its spine, glinting menacingly in the dim light, while its black eyes burn with a fiery intensity that seems to pierce through your very soul.

The creature's mouth curls into a snarl, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth stained with blood. Its breath is a noxious cloud of decay and sulphur, filling the air with a suffocating stench that makes your stomach churn.

As it lurches forward on all fours, its movements are unnaturally fluid, each step sending tremors through the ground beneath you. It’s trying to squeeze its way through the small space of the doorway, too big to pass through, and you could do nothing but watch.

Your vision goes hazy as you simply stare at the creature.

The adrenaline is fading and you’re starting to feel your wounds, but maybe if you could crawl towards the door...

At six pm on a Friday evening, Hoseok isn’t at all surprised to see the line of people waiting to get into the club. It’s still a long way to opening, but with the prestige of this place, again, he isn’t surprised.

He was with Yoongi when he bought the place, watched him build it from the ground up. Watched his taste for the interior bounce around erratically until he settled, as the clientele flickered from the common club goer to people – if they had enough money – buying their way in.

Haegeum is on the high-end of the city, the type of place where you’d wonder if folks had enough money to burn just because. Yoongi doesn’t discriminate and all are welcomed.

The queue is a mix of people: folks dressed to the nines just to step a foot in the place, those of which would most likely be sitting pretty in the VIP section. People just looking for a place to escape to for a while, teenagers holding tight to their fake Ids and clinging to their friends. They mingle in groups or alone, their chatter filling the air with a soft buzz of voices and hushed giggles.

Hoseok takes everything in with an air of nonchalance as he strolls by.

The bouncer at the heavy black door stands stoically, clipboard in hand for VIP clients. Hoseok breezes past him when he opens the door to let him in, stepping into the entrance foyer, illuminated by dim red lights. He walks down the hall, and down the dark metal staircase into the main floor of the club.

The above head white florescent lights do nothing to take away from the grandeur of the club, though, Hoseok likes it better when it’s late and the lights are off. The main floor is usually accented in lights of blue and red, casting shadows streaking along the sitting area. Embedded into the walls are velvet couches that flow with the design in a sort of snake like shape, a short-legged coffee table and single seated chairs dotted between every inward curve. There’s a wide enough walkway for two people walking side by side to pass, a partition of glass, and on the other side of it, black leather couches and even more glass coffee tables.

 The walls are interesting, and Hoseok thinks this because he doesn’t know why Yoongi likes it so much. In large arched alcoves sits head statues of Greek gods of mortal tales, staring lifelessly into the distance, bathed in dark blue light. Between every two are columns that resembles those of a temple, and smooth grey stone. Hoseok honestly doesn’t know which vibe Yoongi is going for, not that he’d say it to his face.

He walks down the little walkway, down another set of stairs and across the dance floor. The bar is tucked in a corner, glasses being wiped by one of Yoongi’s employees behind it. Hoseok offers the man a nod of his head, moving towards the staircase that curves with the wall and upwards.

Yoongi’s office veers just off the VIP lounge, set behind large mahogany doors. And Hoseok doesn’t bother knocking. The room looks pretty much the same as it’s always had: dark walls with darker patterns, a maroon carpet lining the floor, abstract paintings hanging on the walls that allude to a darker nature, and in the far corner on the wall between two paintings is a golden blade dagger behind a mounted glass case.

“...Pick your side, kid. It’s either you’re with me, or against me.” Yoongi’s voice is cold, not angry per se, but reeking in annoyance that chills rather than burns. “And trust me when I say that you don’t want me as your enemy. I don’t play nice.”

There’s a young man standing in front of Yoongi’s large desk, his hands behind his back where one hand squeezes the other in bouts of nervous jitter. There are bruises on his knuckles, and even from behind, Hoseok could tell that he’s trying to fit into a crowd that doesn’t suit him. Haegeum isn’t just a club but a base of operations so to speak, in the middle of this high-end city, its easy for Yoongi to wrack up a certain clientele. People who seek a different ease of mind and has a different lifestyle.

Hoseok leans against the door, watching the scene play out, as the young man bows slightly and Yoongi waves his hand at him.

“Keep shadowing Seonghwa and Hongjoong for the week, and I don’t want any trouble this time.” He says dismissively, and the boy turns to leave. As Hoseok catches his eye, something akin to a bolt of lightening shoots down his spine. It isn’t noticeable to the more ordinary folk, but Hoseok isn’t ordinary, and neither are Yoongi and the rest of his boys. 

The air crackles with static, raw, untrained power that itches Hoseok the wrong way. The boy stands there clearly a moment too long, and Yoongi’s knuckles raps against the table top. “Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun gives a soft apology, and quickly walks towards the door. Hoseok opens it for him, not out of kindness, but purely to give him a long unbroken stare. He smiles as the boy struggles to hold his gaze, even as the hair on the back of his neck stands on end at his proximity.

When he shuts the door behind him, Yoongi is already watching him with a raised brow. Hoseok wanders over to the leather armchair at the front of Yoongi’s desk and sits, shifting around until he’s comfortable in it. “I thought they were a myth.”

“Obviously they’re not.” Yoongi mutters, shaking his head as he sieves through a stack of papers scattered on his desk before he finds what he’s looking for. “Kid wanted in, so I let him. More trouble than it’s worth, honestly. But, the Nephilim are stronger than the order, so I gave it a shot.”

Hoseok hums, and Yoongi seems to catch himself, narrowing his eyes at him. The scar that runs through his right eye looks pink and irritated in the motion and the overhead lights. “What are you doing here?”

“What? I can’t visit?”

If Yoongi narrows his eyes any more, he’d close them, “I think you know better than anyone that you’re never here.” He says, “You’re absent more often than not, so I have the right to ask. Did you do something? I’m not cleaning up any more of your messes.”

Yoongi pushes back his chair, walking across the room to the mini bar he has tucked in the corner. He pulls a glass from the cabinet and pours himself a glass of whisky from a long necked crystalline bottle. He takes a sip and turns leaning against the bar’s edge. “Last time was enough trouble.”

“You’d clean it up anyways.” Hoseok says, leaning his head back against the chair, tilting his head to look at Yoongi. “I found something fun to do.”

Yoongi stares at him for a moment, quiet, contemplative, “Causing a different type of trouble, I see.” He chuckles, “Don’t break her.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Hoseok smirks, and then frowns a little. With all Yoongi’s prowess and danger, he’s gone a little soft around the edges, and he could see that softness in his eyes as he looks off into the distance. Surely thinking about the mortal girl that has him wrapped around her little fingers like bubble gum.

“You’ll learn.” Yoongi says cryptically, and it reminds Hoseok that he’s never really sure what Yoongi is thinking. Sometimes he’s an open book and Hoseok could read him like one, easy to figure out in the way that he moves, and sometimes he’s sealed tight.

Yoongi drains his glass of whisky, setting it down with a clink on the bar top before walking back over to his desk. “Since you’re here...” He opens a drawer and pulls out a thick black file, “Give this to Seonghwa.”

Hoseok takes the file and opens it, reading over the contents. There’s a man on Yoongi’s black list that’s due a checking in. “You let him and Joong have all the fun.”

“You’re too messy.” Yoongi retorts, “I said I’m not cleaning up after you.”

Hoseok shrugs, and gets up, skirting around the back of the chair and walking towards the door.

“Hobi.” Yoongi calls, “I don’t have to remind you that there’s a meeting at the end of the month, right?”

“I’ll be here.” Hoseok says, as the look in Yoongi’s eyes gave no room to say anything else.

He leaves the office, closing the door behind him with a quiet click and lets the tension roll off his shoulders. He goes back the way he came, black file in hand, towards the VIP section where he knows Seonghwa would be lurking. He walks down the little walkway, through the identical couches and tables on raised platforms that overlook the main floor of the club.

At the end, there’s a small section of booths, black velvet and low lit, and standing with his back to him is Hongjoong. He seems to be busy, twin pistols in pieces on the booth’s table, cleaning supplies set up neatly in a little row. Hoseok saunters over, and throws his arm over the man’s shoulders.

Hongjoong doesn’t spare him a glance but sighs softly through his nose. “I’m busy, Hoseok.”

“Where’s your shadow?” Hoseok asks, and waves the file at him, “Yoongi has work for you two.”

“When doesn’t Yoongi have work for us.” Hongjoong slides away from under Hoseok’s arm, sitting down in the booth to avoid him all together. There’s a dull glint of light as the fixtures catch on the gold diamond studded crucifix that swings against the white of Hongjoong’s tee-shirt.

Hoseok clicks his tongue against his teeth, “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

The dark bangs of his hair, which are usually styled away from his forehead, falls into his eyes when he glances upward at Hoseok. He picks up the cleaning solvent and pours a bit of it into the cap before dropping a cotton patch in to let it soak, then, he wraps the patch around the bristles of a small bore brush.

“Seonghwa isn’t here, he’s out back.” Hongjoong picks up the dismantled gun barrel, sliding the bore brush through until the now dirty cotton patch pokes out from the other end. The scent of the solvent burns Hoseok’s nose, and he leaves Hongjoong be, going back down to the main floor and through the emergency exit. The exit sits in the middle of an alleyway that connects two streets, and Hoseok catches sight of Seonghwa’s faux fur coat on one end.

Smoke curls away from his form with a light wind and brings the scent of a cigarette as Hoseok walks with quiet steps towards him. He’s laughing at something, phone in hand, and Hoseok drops his hand heavily on his shoulder and feels the way he immediately tenses.

“I’ve told you one too many times, Seonghwa.” Hoseok says, stepping to the side and around him, “Always be on your guard.”

There’s a glint in the way that he sneers, pulling away from Hoseok’s grip. He takes a couple steps back, watching Hoseok as though he spat at his feet.

“Aw, don’t look at me like that. Makes me all tingly.” Hoseok teases mockingly with a smile, and then offers the file to him. “Here.”

Seonghwa shoves his phone into the pocket of his coat, taking the file and looking through it. He takes one last drag of the cigarette between his fingers before tossing it. He raises a perfect brow at Hoseok and tilts his head, something like amusement in his eyes. “You don’t show up for weeks, and now you’re just Yoongi’s errand boy.”

Hoseok chuckles and it’s dark, low in his throat. “Seonghwa.” He takes a step closer, “Don’t forget your place.”

It’s irritating how Seonghwa doesn’t back down, the way he looks at Hoseok as though he’s beneath him. He stands tall and proud with his chest puffed out like a peacock, and Hoseok knows he’s about to say something stupid without using that brain of his first.

“Don’t act like we’re not in the same boat.” Seonghwa scoffs, and even before he opens his mouth, Hoseok could see the thought in his eyes, glowing like an ember in the dark. He sees the minute curl at the corner of his mouth and the glow of the street light that catches on the pretty studded silver of his teeth. “You got your ward killed, and killed the man that killed her. There’s no hierarchy among murderers.”

Hoseok takes a breath, and he feels the heat rising from the tips of his toes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the images he’s locked away floods out of the steel box he’s put them in. The little girl he’d been guardian to, her short, miserable and painful life. Found end at the hands of someone she had the misfortune of being born to. It was too late – he was too late, when he’d found her. And just like then, Hoseok sees red.

Warm, gushing red that spill into the creases of his fingers when he swings his fist at Seonghwa’s face. The black file and the papers within scatter on the wind.

Hoseok doesn’t let the surprise and force send the younger man stumbling back too far, and grabs hold of the front of his coat, curling his fingers into the material tightly. He kicks at his knee, and when he’s forced to kneel, Hoseok leans down to his height.

“You talk a lot of shit for someone who lost his wings for something so trivial; your sin and mine are two different things.” Hoseok sneers, and he’s so mad he could set Seonghwa on fire and watch him dance. “But I can remind you exactly why Yoongi doesn’t bother to have me involved.”

Someone pulls Seonghwa back, dragging him up to his feet. “The fuck are you two doing?”

There’s a tick in Seonghwa’s jaw that doesn’t go unnoticed and his eyes stay locked with Hoseok as he straightens. He should think twice, Hoseok knows he knows better.

Hongjoong shoves at Seonghwa’s shoulder, “Go pick that shit up.”

Yeonjun stands at the open doorway of the emergency exit, watching with wide eyes, looking like he’s halfway to backing out on his choice to get into Yoongi’s ranks. Hongjoong eyes Hoseok warily, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Seonghwa was doing as told.

Hoseok’s gaze burns a hole into the back of Seonghwa’s head as he moves around to pick up the scattered papers while Hongjoong stands like a watchdog.

Hoseok shoves his hands into the pockets of his black coat, tilting his head back to stare at the sky. “You boys be good, now.” He says in parting, turning on his heel and walking out of the alley.

“What the fuck did you say to him?...”

Hoseok walks up the street, through the throngs of people still waiting to get into Haegeum. His phone vibrates in his coat pocket, with a sigh he pulls it out and answers.

“Yes, Cheol?”

“Hey, remember when you asked me to tell you when I’ve seen that weird fog?” Seungcheol sounds distracted, there’s a sharp sound from his end that has Hoseok pulling the phone away from his ear with a wince. He says something to someone else, voice too far away for Hoseok to catch, before he speaks again. “Couple of nights ago, it was in my area. Whatever’s in it is pretty good at hiding. It’s not the only thing in it either.”

Hoseok crosses the street, going in the opposite direction of which he came from. The people that line the sidewalk give him a wide berth as he weaves through them; unconsciously reacting to him being near.

“Didn’t see much of the guy, some twinky-looking redhead.” Cheol sighs, “I think the fog is like a domain. If you get lost in it, it’s like there’s no-one in there but you. Like a mirror realm.”

‘They who fight monsters should be careful, lest they become a monster themselves.  And if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.’

What defines a monster? Something that goes beyond human comprehension, something that stands outside the bounds of what is morally accepted. Something that a person fails to understand and is therefore scared by. Something that make stories entertaining because they’re meant to be defeated in the end. They’re meant to be slain and mounted like trophies, pinned up for grotesque display of heroism.

What defines a creature that goes beyond human comprehension? White coloured morals and the freedom to help in the way it needed. He stopped being what he was created to be, and instead became something that someone needed the most. He did everything right. He had his head in the right place, he was determined to see it through to the end.

He was a little too late.

Over the years, Hoseok could no longer recall just how late he was. If it was by seconds or minutes, or an hour by a half. When he was finally strong enough to move, he traced the memory of a place he’d seen for years, all the way to a house where his charge waited inside.

She was always afraid. Alone, trapped with a monster of man’s making. A child he’s watched since the moment of her birth, watched her grow to be afraid and the light never reach her. By the laws of his nature he was forced to do nothing.

He was restricted to assisting in the only way he could. He couldn’t shield her physically, so he instead manipulated the monster in her closet. He made sure that his mind was changed, that he didn’t swing his claws as fiercely, that he slept deeply so that the child can have a night of rest.

He started to question, as he watched the monster that called himself a father, prey upon what he was meant to protect.

What’s the point? Is he not allowed to stop this? Why can’t he stop this? He could stop it because he has the power to do so.

The ideology was shared by another, and together, hubris.

Hoseok fell with pride; he fell with the intention to seek his ward out and help her. Even if he had no idea what was to come afterwards. Stripped of his grace and the feathers of his wings burned away, it didn’t matter to him.

He went as quickly as his wounds allowed, which in retrospect, wasn’t quickly enough. She was only six. An awfully short time to the likes of him, even shorter to mortals, not enough time to live and laugh – she wasn’t allowed to even do that. He’d stood there, in the broken doorway of a broken home and watched as the monster of his ward’s nightmare became a man before him. Hoseok’s vision had tunnelled and in the centre was the broken body of the child he’d sworn to protect.

When the shadows on the walls grew tall and Hoseok’s mind closed in on itself and allowed those shadows to encase him, the man cried. He pleaded on his knees at the sight of his reckoning, begged for mercy when he gave none.

Then, Hoseok shattered. Scattered like tiny specs of dust floating on the wind, and under the heat and pressure of his own realisations, he turned into glass. With his sharp edges he cut into the man and reveled in it. The sounds of his pleas like the gentle strum of a harp’s string, and the warmth of his blood was a bath Hoseok sunk into.

What he was, was something that was no longer needed, and with his hands covered in blood and gore and mess he held tight to his reasons for being and cried for her. He became something else that only protected himself. While he locked everything away and allowed the shadows to stay. The light he’s trapped struggles to glow, to breathe, and some days Hoseok wants to snuff it out for good, to become the shadows he plays in.

He wouldn’t allow himself to reach that point, though. He still has a sense of himself, however skewed.

He owes Yoongi a lot, his partner in crime that he would follow to the ends of the earth. He never turned his back on him even as Hoseok changed to suit his troubles.

Hoseok remembers Yoongi standing at the doorway, catching up much later than he had. He stayed there quietly while Hoseok mourned the death of his ward and his tears made tracks in the blood that coated him.

Hoseok buried her away from her cursed home, far away and as deep as the roots of an old oak runs and salt floats on the air. Wild flowers bloom there, giving her the beauty in death she wasn’t allowed in life.

His chest aches as he stands there now. Under the shade of the oak tree where little speckles of the setting orange sun spills through leaves and dances along the space that he occupies. There’s a crinkle of plastic and Hoseok stares at the small bouquet in his grip. He chose every flower that reminded him of her: daises and lavender, lilies and snapdragons.

He lays it gently on the patch of grass that’s long grown over between two large protruding roots, mutters the same apology he does every time he comes by, and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat as he straightens.

He’s sorry he wasn’t there in time.

He wished she was given a chance, and wondered if her death was his punishment. He wonders what it would’ve been like to watch her grow, safe and happy. What her favourite flower would’ve been, if she would’ve valued the little things. He would’ve given her everything – pulled the moon from the sky if she so desired it. He would’ve taken the stars and put them in her little hands for her to watch them shine.

He wonders if it would’ve been better had he waited a little longer. That maybe the slightest change would’ve brought about a different outcome.

Hoseok sighs, turns his head to watch the sun set, dragged behind the ocean’s edge far off in the distance. Something at the back of his mind wiggles and tugs. He knows something’s wrong and he’s in no mood to deal with it.

You’re dying...you think. Your hand slides against the floor and it takes a moment to realise it’s your blood you’re slipping in. You can barely feel the rest of your body, adrenaline pumping your blood out of the wounds at your back. The doors of the elevator doubles and swarms in your vision.

You see them open but it’s so hard to focus. Hoseok steps out and walks slowly to you, you can’t see his expression, but you faintly hear the long, drawn-out sigh he releases. Your eyes focus on the darkness that surrounds him, the way it curls like smoke. The shadows at his back are clearer to you than they’ve ever been – wings. Dark plumage that glitters with something silver in the light, the feathers are long, long enough that they drag behind his steps. If he were to unfold them they would easily span to the ends of the hallway.

He hardly gives you a glance, stopping in front of you. You can’t see the creature now – blocked by Hoseok’s wings – but you hear it growl, and the scraping of it’s claws against the floor. Something glints in his hand against the flickering lights, a short sword that looks like it was dipped in gold from the hilt and it ran down the edges of the blade.

He’s a blur as he moves and your tired eyes can barely keep up with him, if it weren’t for the small space and shadows his wings casted you would’ve lost sight of him completely. 

The creature snarls and lashes out with its razor-sharp claws, but Hoseok is already one step ahead, dodging with effortless grace. He moves with a speed and agility that seems impossible in the space he occupies, closing in on the creature that growls and snarls at him. It’s forced to dislodge itself from the doorway, pulling back into the stairwell that gives it even less room to defend.

Hoseok’s wings fold tightly to his back as he follows, and you could only hear the sound of his weapon sliding through the air, the sound of the blade whistling and the increasingly irritated sounds from the creature. Hoseok ducks under a swiped claw, makes a spin on his knee, and switches the hands that holds his blade. It slices through the creature’s gigantic paw like it’s made of something soft, and through the other as it comes back down. The severed limb drops heavily on the ground before it dissolves into ashes and float upward.

The sound it makes grate on your ears, loud and sharp and you can’t bring your hands up to cover them, something warm trickles out of each.

Without it’s two front legs to support it’s weight, the creature drops forward, and Hoseok grabs hold of the first spike at the top of its head. With a flick of his wrist his weapon spins in his palm and he points the blade right between the creature’s eyes and pushes.

Golden light flashes, nearly blinding you on top of everything else, you can just barely hear the cry it makes this time as it writhes in agony. It’s monstrous form twists and contorts before finally collapsing to the ground in a heap.

Hoseok stands over the fallen beast, his weapon clenched tightly in his hand, watching intently as it’s body dissipates like ash from a fire.

With a satisfied nod, Hoseok sheaths his weapon and it vanishes, and then turns his attention back to you, his expression a mixture of something. You can’t tell, everything seems so dark and it’s hard to breathe. He approaches you slowly, his movements cautious as he assesses the extent of your injuries.

Hoseok crouches and you slowly look up at him, he tilts his head and clicks his tongue against his teeth.

“I told you not to go anywhere, little dove.” He says softly, calmly, as though he’s telling you about his day and you’re not bleeding out in his hallway. “You’re so troublesome.”

You try to respond, but the words stick in your throat, drowned out by the rush of blood and the overwhelming sense of impending darkness. Hoseok’s presence feels both comforting and ominous, his wings casting elongated shadows that dance across the walls. You try to focus on his face, to find some semblance of reassurance in his eyes, but all you see is a blur of shadows and flickering light.

“I’m sorry,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own laboured breathing.

Hoseok’s expression softens slightly, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes. He reaches out a hand to gently brush the hair from your forehead, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the underlying tension in the air.

“Jesus...” Another voice says, the sound of footsteps hurrying close and the last thing you see is the shift of the hallway.

The night he found you out in the fog wasn’t the first time Hoseok had seen you.

By now, it would’ve been at least three months ago. You were alone, pacing around like a worried mother on a bridge over your perceived peace – had you decided to take it.

Human lives were no longer any concern to him; no consequence. He and his kind were here before and would be long after your kind has crumbled to dust and returned to the earth. He stopped then, and watched you contemplate the height of the bridge and the chill of the water below it; whether or not you’ll receive the mercy you seek. You’d cried for a long time on that bridge.

Hoseok is many things, but cruel is not one of them. He changed your mind and sent you away into the arms of someone that would care.

Hoseok has many contradictions. The darkness that he allowed entry fights the light, beating it into a corner where it cowers on most days. On those days he’s distant and struggling to contain it, he could taste malice on his tongue and the bitterness of it. The steel walls he painstakingly built with bloody and broken fingers are nothing more than barbwire fences; they do nothing to protect the glass figurines that make him whole.

Sometimes the glass are shards, sharp and unforgiving and willing to cut anything that gets too close. Sometimes they’re splintered panes and Hoseok is cutting his fingers to keep them in place. He curls in on himself, draws himself away, pushes everything outside his barbwire fence and tries to reinforce the walls. The darkness that swirls outside it seeps in and he can’t keep it out so he lets it fester and churn and he becomes intangible.

You weren’t there, and then, at some point, you were.

Sometimes...

Sometimes he’s standing in a grass field full of wild daises and the sun is warm and there’s salt in the air. The light peeks through the leaves of an old oak tree, and there’s a little girl who’s placed her life in his hands, who skitters about in the  grass like something wild and free. She glows in her happiness, and nature stains her hands and the bottom of her white dress. She makes faces at him behind the trunk of the tree, smiles and hold his hands and tell him that it’s okay. It wasn’t his fault and he’s forgiven, he could let it go and be.

On those days, Hoseok feels like a still pool of water. The ones with lily pads and life, and everything’s alright. You’re always there then.

Hoseok knows of the fragility of humans. How easily they could shatter and break and suddenly be no more. He was something once, and then he became something else, and sometimes it’s hard to not be what he is. His darker nature prevails, and he doesn’t do much to stop it. Sure, sometimes he’s done things simply because he’s feeling particularly malicious and thinks that everyone should suffer – it’s almost always harmless.

He has a sense of himself, he knows when to stop, when things are taken too far and you can’t take much more of it. You eventually learnt to take it in stride and Hoseok was proud of that, though, a part of him thought it wasn’t nearly as fun anymore.

He would walk your dreams some nights when he was bored and had nothing better to entertain himself, his presence would sometimes bring his darkness and your dreams would not be as pleasant. He tried to walk through them less often.

When you were jumping at every little sound, the silence that Hoseok moves with and the way you’re less of yourself some days – he realised something. Not every nightmare was his doing, and the whispers in the walls of your dreams spoke of something else entirely.

The far, fuzzy edges of your vivid dreams where he’s reminded of things he’s tried very hard to lock away, lurks something red and more sinister than he.

He’s every reason to believe that hellspawn didn’t find it’s way here on accident, and for it to go undetected until the very last moment. It bothers him like nothing else has.

Though you lay peaceful now and Seungcheol had left after doing what he does best, the unease lingers in bouts under Hoseok’s skin, skittering about like electricity on a wire. His feelings where you’re concerned contradicts each other. Like oil on water he’s stuck in between wanting you close and keeping you at arm’s length. He likes when you’re near, but he likes when you’re far. A consequence of his nature, he toes the line of something sinister and could get dangerous and down right evil if he doesn’t reign himself in.

At a point he wasn’t quite sure what to do with you. He was just as confused on why he stopped you from ending your own life that night on the bridge and why he took you in that night in the fog. At first, he was just as wary of you as you were of him, despite the way he acted. He can’t help what he is.

On the days where he feels like splintered glass and he’s choking on his despair, you’d waited. You were there until the smoke cleared and your quiet presence helped put the glass back up and straighten out the posts in his fence.

He told Yoongi, there’s no fun in not breaking you. Yoongi said that he’d learn.

He can’t help what he is.

He could try, though.

He doesn’t want to break you, it’s a matter of cause and effect. You’re here with him, evidently, you’d be broken regardless. The most he could do is try. He could try to not be the straw, and try to not let outside forces become it.

He cares. He cares so much that sometimes he could taste it on his tongue. He cares that you smile when he’s earned it, that you eat well, that you greet him like a friend and then somewhere along get shy when you do. He cares if you live or die.

Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut, opening them to blink away the image of you, helplessly laying in a pool of your own blood.

Fear. He’s has only felt it once, the fear that you would die and he would’ve failed again to protect someone.

He sips slowly at his glass of whisky, drinking in the sight of you. He thought you were smart enough to listen to him at least, trusted that you would stay out until he got back. Perhaps it was his mistake, but he wonders, and he ponders as you give a minute twitch in your sleep. Your eyebrows draw together and you murmur something unintelligible.

Hoseok sets his tumbler on your bedside drawer and pulls his chair closer. This is something he could easily do from another room, though, for what he’s about to do he would need to be touching you in some capacity.

Your dream had started off vividly, as most of your dreams have since you came here. Hoseok stands just in the corner of it, watching you wake within your dream and put your feet down into water.

He walks along the edge of it, watching it play out like a simulation, following behind you as you make your way down the hall towards the living room. He’s there and Hoseok isn’t surprised – it’s not the first time you’ve dreamt him.

He watches as your dreamscape version of him pull you into his lap and he feels a little offended and rolls his eyes – he didn’t even try to make it look sexy. Is this what you think of him? He isn’t half as tactless. Seduction takes finesse, and you clearly have no idea what that is.

Hoseok turns, gazing at the darkened edges of your dream.

There’s a shift and he feels it. It’s heavy like a wet blanket and seeps in like mist, and your dream changes accordingly.

He knows this feeling too well – the intrusion of an external force manipulating the dream, it’s faint enough that he knows it wasn’t in his apartment or anywhere nearby, but strong enough to reach so far.

Hoseok hovers hesitantly between the doorway of the living room and the hallway, and closes his eyes against the image of him hurting you.

He follows you as you follow blood, and he wishes you weren’t so frightened. He stays close to you, stepping where you’ve stepped as though he could protect you from something that’s already occurred. You push the door to your bedroom open and he wants to stop you, turn you around and shake you awake, but he can only watch.

You’re there and he is too, whispers skittering along the walls like mice, and Hoseok yanks himself out of your subconscious mind.

He feels like glass.

When you wake it’s dark and your back is sore like you fell from a high place and splatted against a body of water. The moment feels like déjà vu regardless as you swing your legs over the side of the bed with a wince.

The broken projector of your sleep-addled mind flickers in black and white cut scene imagines of the evening. Hoseok, the fog, the dog that crawled out of hell specifically for you – as you can only assume – things considered, you’re pretty certain you died at some point.

The dark unnerves you, it makes you feel like a kid as you pull your feet back up onto the bed, and pull the blanket up over your head and pulled tight between your fingers at your chest.

You scoot back, wiggling a bit until your back is pressed flush against the headboard. There’s no light seeping in from under your door, and you sink lower, curling into yourself and hold the blanket tighter.

There’s a prickling at the back of your neck that sends a shiver racing down your spine. Your head turns slowly to the left and notice the unnatural darkness of the space between the edge of the wall and the window pane. Relief blooms in your chest at the sight of it.

“...Hoseok.” You call softly, waving a hand into the dark. You wait for a moment, but the lights don’t come on and he doesn’t appear as he usually would.

Carefully, you unwrap the covers from around you and place your foot on the ground. Taking a moment, you count your fingers – it’s always hard to count them in your dreams. All ten are there, and you take a breath before standing.

The floor is cold, and you notice the carpet that’s usually under your feet is missing, and the silhouettes of the things you’ve made yours are different; this isn’t your room.

You approach the ball of chaos carefully, and stand five steps away from the space it occupies. This is the second time you’ve been close to it, the first time had been much closer and you hadn’t understood it then. You reach a hand out, and gently: “Hoseok...”

It slows, the shadows and wisps shifting gently like a leaf on a soft wind. It elongates into a vague outline and then, Hoseok stares through you before he sees you. He’s still wearing the clothes he left in earlier, coat and all, looking a little more than rattled even in the dark.

He raises a hand and it hovers by your cheek, thumb ghosting the skin like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. The lights didn’t come back on and it’s hard to decipher his emotions in the dark.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft, barely a whisper in the darkness. Somewhere behind you, a lamp flickers on dimly and Hoseok looks like he’d shatter if you touched him.

“I’m okay.”

Hoseok’s hand drops slowly from your face as he blinks, as though waking from a dream. His gaze focuses on you, but there’s a vacancy in his eyes. For a moment, he seems almost confused, as if he’s not sure how he ended up here or what to make of your presence.

His touch is light, gentle, like he’s handling something fragile when his fingers brushes yours. You feel his fear, a palpable thing, thick and heavy. It’s a side of him you’ve never seen before, and you’re not sure what to do with it.

He exhales softly through his nose, nods once and then his eyes are somewhere above your head. “Are you in pain?”

“No,” Your back sings a low hymn, achy and sore, but it’s nothing to fuss over. “I’m okay.”

There’s a lot of things you want to ask, but you can’t seem to pick one. You want to ask him about the fog and the creature, about his wings or how you’re even alive to mull over said questions.

Instead, you ask: “Are you okay?”

Hoseok looks unprepared for that, his eyes snapping back to yours and he flounders. His mouth opens and closes before he stares at you in that unnerving way he had your first couple of days here, like he’s trying to understand you. Like he could strip you down to atoms and see what makes you act the way you do and therefore comprehend the bases of your human nature.

“I’m...” He blinks, looks away, and a muscle beneath his right eye twitches, “I’m okay.”

He doesn’t sound convinced and you aren’t either, and where his hand brushes yours you reach out first. His fingers are cold and he looks down, staring at your hand like it’s something foreign, but his grip tightens. It’s quiet for a moment, he takes a breath that doesn’t seem to ease the weight he carries.

“You almost died.” He says quietly, brows furrowed as though he can’t understand his own concern. “When I brought you here...I did so with the intention to keep you safe.”

It’s quiet again and you wait, and wait.

Hoseok’s eyes mist, his breath shudders on the exhale. “I wasn’t here in time. Again. I—”

His hand in yours tremble, he’s looking through you again, not entirely here and he looks like a man haunted by ghosts he alone could see. You stumble a step back when he falls to his knees before you, but didn’t get far as his arms wound tight around your waist. There’s something strange about a creature such as him with all his prowess and tainted grace kneeling at your feet, and his words tumble from his mouth like his tears that soak into your borrowed shirt and he lets you hold the chain that drags behind him.

The weight is heavy, heavy enough that it grounds you and you listen to it rattle as Hoseok tells you everything. In a broken tone about a broken home and a child he couldn’t reach in time to save, about the shadows that he let hide the light and now he struggles to find it. The things he’s done since that would make the most wicked men cower.

You make the connection, as he lays himself bare before you. He peeled back the layers of his being himself and let you look inside; the bases of his nature, the connotations of his own sins. It makes sense to you now. The way he would change like the tide and his near obsessive, compulsive need to wrap you in bubble wrap and put you in a glass case. He’d long stopped scaring you and somehow became a comfort despite himself.

Maybe it’s circumstantial, or something else entirely, but you’ve grown to care for him and he’s been caring for you from the start. However skewed that was.

When he’s stopped his babbling, and he’s no longer crying, he still holds you tight, whispering apologies against the dampness of your shirt. You meet his height, gently pulling his arms away from you and you kneel, too. He blinks away the last of his tears and you catch them with your thumbs just under his red-rimmed eyes.

He’s no longer looking through you, one of his hands covers yours, his lips brushing delicately against your wrist when he turns his head; your heart flutters. He whispers something you didn’t catch, he closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them, he repeats: “You can leave if you want.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Will you stay, then?” He looks away when he asks, pressing his fingers against your palm in a way that tickles and distracts, and studies the lines of them quietly. “Stay here with me.”

There’s something like hope in his eyes that glints against the shadows that linger, shining like flecks gold in cracked rock. You nod slowly and he smiles easily, all teeth and heart shaped and his hand is warm when he cups your cheek with the one that isn’t holding yours.

“Your dream...” He says softly, and later you’d find that it troubled him the most; he would never do something like that – not to you. “I’m sorry.”

You store the fact that he knows about it at the back of your mind for later – later when he’s not pressing the pad of his thumb against the fullness of your bottom lip, tracing the shape of it. You’ve learnt to ebb and flow with him, a boat on his tide, taking the shift of his mood in stride.

There’s something in his eyes now that has nothing to do with how you found him earlier, something that makes you follow his lead, leaning in when he pulls you towards him. Deja vu accompanies the way he shifts, easing back and turning you as he does, leaning against a dresser you hadn’t noticed. He keeps his eyes locked with yours, directing your leg over his with a hand, and he settles you on his lap.

“This feels familiar.” He giggles, lifting his head to nose along your jaw and you’re reminded that he knows. Heat flares at the back of your neck and races up your ears, and when you push against his shoulders, he steadies and keeps you still with his hands on the top of your thighs and a click of his tongue against his teeth.

“I’m teasing.” He gives a crooked smile, tilting his head, “It’s cute that you think it’ll play out that way.”

“Isn’t it, though?” You blurt out, embarrassment forgotten. Honestly, the only thing that’s changed is the room, and when Hoseok pauses you smirk.

He smirks right back, something dangerous, and he chuckles, “Keep talking back. I like that.”

His hand slides up your back, and you don’t suppress the shiver that follows after it. The air grows heavy, charged with unspoken tension. You’re vaguely aware of your heart pounding, the rhythm matching the erratic thrum of your blood. He leaves a kiss where your jaw meets your neck, sucking lightly on the spot.

“Hoseok...” You start to say his name, but it comes out as a breathless whisper. You’re not sure what you intended to say, but the words get caught in your throat.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “What is it?” he asks, his voice rough with desire and darker still. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head, unable to form words.

With a low growl, he takes your silence as an invitation, his fingers tangle in your hair, and he tilts your head down, his lips meeting yours in a kiss you gasp into. It quickly deepens, becoming more urgent, as if he’s trying to devour your very soul. His other hand finds your hip, squeezing possessively.

You’re lost in the sensation, the taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against yours. The world has narrowed to the two of you, to this moment.

A soft moan escapes your lips, and he takes that as a cue, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that sets your entire being ablaze.

His touch ignites a fire within you, consuming your senses and leaving you breathless, his hand sliding from your hip to your lower back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

He pulls away slowly and you chase, he smirks against your kiss, and when he lifts his hips you feel the press of his arousal. His kisses trail, ghosting along your jaw, his tongue warm where your pulse thrums. He directs the shifts of your hips, grinding you down against clothed erection with a curse growled against your skin.

You follow the light tug of his hand in your hair, tilting your head back and to the side to give him more room to work. He hums appreciatively around your skin between his teeth and you hiss softly at the sting of the pull.

“So good for me.” He whispers when he pulls away. His fingers tap at your hip before he wraps his arm around, bracing the other against the dresser behind and stands easily.

A startled squeak leaves you, wrapping your arms around his neck even though he’s holding you steady. He reaches the bed in two strides, and drops you there, a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

You bounce a bit amongst the soft sheets with a soft giggle before you settle. His index finger curls beneath your chin and tilts, thumb brushing along your bottom lip again, “Ah.”

You comply easily, and then his thumb is pressing against your tongue. Saliva pools in your mouth and he hums when you wrap your lips around the digit. There’s a tick of his brow and the dull glint of his teeth when he smiles in the dim light of the singular lamp, and a darkness in his eyes that doesn’t scare you.

He tests the boundaries of what you’d allow, sliding his thumb along your tongue. His palm lays flat against your cheek, thumb reaching far until you feel the lurch of your stomach and pull back with a gasp.

He coos softly, leaning down just as he slips his finger out of your mouth to capture your lips in a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything else. He nudges you back softly, large hands sneaking their way under your tee to reach your skin, desperate in a way that makes you think he’d die if he doesn’t.

He stops just shy of the undersides of your breasts, pulling away from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. His breaths are shallow, he whispers your name, “I can get intense.”

“I know.”

“I could hurt you.”

“I know.”

He studies you for a moment, then, tugs gently on the hem of your tee-shirt, “Up.”

As you shift to sit, you’re not surprised to find you aren’t wearing anything underneath the tee-shirt and cotton shorts he’s put you in; dressing you properly must’ve been the last thing on his mind.

Hoseok stands back to shed his coat, dropping it carelessly on the floor. There’s a metallic clink as the buckle of his belt jingles, and the sound of it racing through the loops of his pants.

You – oddly – don’t feel ashamed under his gaze that sets a heat wherever it settles as he roams over your exposed upper half. Putting your weight on your hands, you lean back, watching Hoseok roll the long sleeves of his tee-shirt up his forearms.

His tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he closes the distance again, climbing into the bed on his knees and coming up until they’re on either side of your thighs. Silently he trails a finger down the slope of your neck, it tickles across your collarbone and his fingers spread and palms your left breast.

Your breath hitches and he chuckles, and you know very well he could feel the shifting of your thighs as you rub them together seeking friction. It’s been ages since anyone’s touched you like this, all of Hoseok’s teasing isn’t doing you much good.

His lips meet yours, licking into your mouth, and he groans when you suck on his tongue. His fingers lightly pinch at your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand roams, goosebumps following it’s path down your side and stops where his fingers tease the band of your shorts.

Your hips buck as you whine and Hoseok pulls away, eyelids heavy, pupils all but gone, panting softly; looking drunk on you.

He smiles and makes a disapproving sound at the back of his throat. “Patience little dove.” He tuts, tilting his head at you, “I’ll give you what you need.”

He trails his fingers along the edges of your shorts before pulling them down and off, leaving you exposed to his touch. His hair tickles where it drags against your sensitive skin as he moves downward. He avoids where you need him most entirely and you squirm, a soft whine building in your chest.

He kisses and licks his way up your thighs, teasing you until you’re begging. Gently, he spreads your legs, kissing the inner thigh of your right before he rests it over his shoulder, pushing your other up and holding it there with a palm.

His dark gaze meets yours and you can’t hold it when he licks a hot stripe from your weeping entrance to your clit. Your hand shoots down to grip his hair, back arching when his responding growl vibrates against your core.

With each stroke of his tongue, Hoseok explores every inch of your most sensitive areas. He laps at your clit, drawing out a series of gasps and moans that fill the room. You’re shaking and swearing as he eats you out like a man starved, his tongue swirling around your clit in figure eights and then dipping into you. He moans like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Your hands curl into the sheets, fingers digging in as if to anchor yourself. You’re lost in the sensations, a whirlwind of pleasure that leaves you breathless. And you wonder, briefly, if this was just something he was good at or something he had to hone.

His arm draping over your hips was the only warning you got before his lips wraps around your clit and sucks. Your back arches with a pitched moan and he slips a finger into your heat, and groans when you clench and gasp his name.

Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat a reminder of your vulnerability. Yet, paradoxically, it’s this vulnerability that fuels your desire, pushing you to new heights. You’re a wild thing now, driven by pure, primal need.

From between your legs, Hoseok watches your reactions, a dark-haired god feasting on your pleasure. His gaze is intense, a silent promise that he’ll take you to the edge. He adds another finger and they curl against your g-spot and it brings about your undoing.

If your arousal was a fire, Hoseok just threw gasoline on it just to watch it explode. He keeps hips lips around your clit as it throbs, fingers dragging along your fluttering walls and your eyes squeeze shut. You could barely breathe, lights dancing behind your eyelids as you gasp his name.

“Good girl.” Hoseok praises, lips brushing your clit and your thighs tremble. He rubs his hand gently over your stomach while you come down, and evilly, bites your thigh with a dark chuckle.

“Hoseok...” you whine as he laves his tongue over the stinging spot.

“Hm?” He smiles, “Want more, little dove?”

You almost cry as he changes course, pulling away entirely, and makes it clear he revel in your suffering when he coos mockingly, standing now.

He slowly unbuttons his pants, slowly pulls his legs out of them one after the other, smirking at you all the while. Even in the dim lighting, you could see the strain his cock against his black boxer briefs and you don’t miss the near inaudible sigh of relief from Hoseok at the change in pressure.

He crooks a finger at you, and shuffles closer as you do. He stands at the edge of the bed, and he sinks his fingers into your hair, brushing it back as you look up at him. He looks down his nose at  you, and raises a brow, “Be a good girl now, dove. Or do I have to teach you?”

“I know how to suck cock you ass.”

Hoseok shrugs, a playful smile shifting his expression as he gently squeezes your cheeks, puckering your lips, “Is all that little mouth good for talking back to me?”

“You said you like that.” You say defiantly.

Hoseok hums, “Have your fun then,” He says, smiling, “Won’t be able to say much in a bit, anyway.” He tugs on your hair, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to signal his impatience.

Funny, he was preaching patience is a virtue a while ago.

You scoff softly, holding your weight with a hand and tugging his boxers down with the other. His cock springs out, long and thick enough that you wonder if it would fit anywhere. It’s flushed red at the tip and leaking pre that beads and dribbles down the underside, and maybe if you focus enough you could just about see the throb of the vein that runs along side. A breath hisses through Hoseok’s teeth when you wrap your fingers around him, his eyes shut and his head tilts back.

Your eyes meet his when you slowly drag your hand down the length of his shaft, teasing him like he did you; turnabout is fair play. His hold in your hair tightens just a bit, eyes narrowing.

“Dangerous game you’re trying to start.” He murmurs, “I don’t take well t – fuck.” He hisses, the word tapering off into a low groan as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

The slightly salty taste of him bursts against your tongue and you hum, twisting your wrist as you bring your hand back up to meet your mouth and follow it down again. The saliva that escapes from the corners of your mouth helps with the glide.

You take a breath through your nose and relax your jaw, taking him in until he hits the back of your throat and you gag. Hoseok’s thighs tense and a stuttered breath leaves him.

“Easy there.” He soothingly runs his fingers through your hair, though it does nothing for the involuntary tears springing at your waterline. You decide to play it safe, not taking more than you can handle. Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind, letting you set your own pace, whispering swears and your praises.

Heat pools in your gut as your head bobs back and forth, your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, swirling around the head every time you pull back.

Slick with spit, your hand strokes the rest of him, and his groans vibrate in your ears. His fingers tighten in your hair, and it’s the only time he directs; holding you still.

“Take a deep breath for me, dove.” You do as told, and as you inhale, Hoseok slowly pushes forward, his cock reaching the back of your throat in no time at all. He groans above you, cock throbbing against your tongue, “There you go.”

He holds you there for a moment, only easing you back when your throat tightens with the need for air. He lets you breathe for a bit before he’s going again, thrusting slowly, once, twice and then holding you still. He keeps you there, cock throbbing at the back of your throat, your nose pressed against the neatly trimmed hair at the base.

When you gag he pulls you back, barely letting you breathe before he’s leaning down to kiss you, catching the string of drool that hangs from your bottom lip with his tongue. He lets you catch your breath, stepping back to pull his tee-shirt over his head and your mouth goes dry at the full expanse of his lithe frame.

Sitting back on your heels, breath a little ragged, you admire the sculpted lines of his body. Every movement is fluid and graceful, his muscles shifting smoothly beneath his skin.

His chest is defined, the faintest sheen of sweat highlighting each ripple of muscle. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders, the way they flex as he moves. There’s a raw, primal energy about him, but it’s tempered by a quiet confidence.

Hoseok comes back to you quickly, cupping your cheek and kissing you fervently, moving with you as you shift back, cock smearing pre-cum along your inner thighs as he slots his narrow hips between them. He nibbles at your bottom lip, fingers sliding through your slick folds before the head of his cock nudges against your entrance.

For a quiet moment he stares then, kisses you tenderly as he breeches. It’s an easy glide, but it stings none the less, and you give an appreciative squeeze to his wrist when he goes slow. The stretch is bearable and soon the slight discomfort dissipates when he bottoms out and gives you a moment.

“Good?” he breathes out, hips pressed flush against yours. The same breath sucked back through his teeth when your walls tightens around him, his cock throbs in response and you keen. He grinds his hips down, pelvis pressing against your swollen clit and the sensation is almost too much and not nearly enough.

He’s close enough that you can run your tongue along his collarbone  and feel him shiver. Leave your own marks there with your teeth and revel in the growl that rumbles in his chest.

He hooks an arm at the back of your knee, pressing it against your chest as he raises and balances his weight. You’re spread open for him, his cock sinks deeper, rubbing against a spot that makes your eyes roll back. He gives shallow thrusts at first, pressing kisses and bruises wherever he could reach.

“Fuck.” Hoseok hisses between his teeth, hips still, palm against your cheek, and he watches you with something other than lust in his eyes. Something gentle as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Look at you, such a good girl. Taking everything I give you.”

His hips snap forward and you cry out, hands gripping the sheets between them at his sinful groan. He keeps a relentless pace, and you could feel him everywhere. His fingers on your skin, leaving you cold and hot at the same time, gripping your hips so tightly you fear they’ll bruise. It would simply add to the ones he’s already placed, scattered on your neck and chest like mismatched constellations in a dark sky.

He brings your hands up above your head, holding them there, together with his free one.

“You’re so good to me, Dove. And all mine, hm? Say it.” He grunts, “Say you belong to me, promise me that you’ll stay here with me.” He says this softly, tenderly, grinding his hips against yours in slow movements, tightening the coil in your stomach.

“I’m yours, I’m yours. I promise.” You babble, hips moving against his on their own accord. “I’ll stay. I promise. Please.”

Hoseok groans at your words, leaning down to capture your lips with his, tongue finding yours with ease. “That’s right. You’re mine. Fuck. All mine. Say it again.”

“I’m yours, Hoseok.”

He curses under his breath, straightening his form and brings his hands down to grip your hips tight, and sets a brutal pace. Head tilting back to reveal the marks you left on him, groaning before he looks back down at you, “Close? Hm? You’re squeezing so tight.” His words taunt, as did the smirk on his pretty pink lips, “Make a mess for me, Dove. Cum all over my cock. That’s it, good girl.”

White lights dance behind your tightly shut eyelids, a ringing in your ears. And Hoseok was fucking you through it, fast and hard, his praises a rumble in his chest. You lay there boneless, taking what he gave with a haze over your mind, a weak moan leaving your parted lips when his hand met your throat. Your heart spikes for another reason entirely, but he doesn’t squeeze. Fingers just there, barely any pressure, as he chased his own end, cock kissing your cervix with each trust, his other hand pressed against your lower stomach.

His thumb finds your clit and you jolt, catching his sinister smirk that curled his lips. “There’s no going back after this, baby. Fuck – you’re mine, understand?” You can feel him throbbing, feel the way his hips stutter on the draw back, he was close and you wanted nothing more than him marking you, claiming you in this way. When your eyes meet his, a shiver goes through you.

He comes undone with a low groan, hips flushed with your own, still thrusting through it, and you can see them with your own eyes, as he shudders and stills. His wings uncurl, dark feathers, darker than anything you’ve ever seen, dipped in silver, spreads out behind him and flutters. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, gentle, barely there and you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

Your eyelids were heavy, and sleepily, you reach out to brush your fingers through the feathers that encased your forms. Hoseok stiffens before your fingers reach them, and chuckles, nipping softly at the flesh of your neck, “Go ahead, Dove.”

He relaxes, when your fingers touch, and you feel him shudder, groaning softly against your neck. They’re soft, your fingers disappearing in the inky blackness of them. With a final brush of his lips against your neck, Hoseok pulls back, his wings shimmering away like a mirage and your hand passes through air before lands limply at your side.

He squeezes your hip gently, mindful, and then he’s gone, walking out his room and into the hallway. The light that spills in helps you see a lot better than the dim lamp, and you notice that Hoseok’s bedroom looks much like the rest of his apartment; sleek and dark. There isn’t much to it either, the basics, more utilirian than a comfort space. You wonder if he uses it at all.

Hoseok comes back and gathers your boneless self into his arms. You rest your cheek against his collarbone, the sound of running water reaching your ears when he steps out into the hallway.

The tub is filling, steam rising from the bubbles that form at the top of the disturbed water. It smells like mint and some sort of fruit, and the temperature is just right when he steps into it and lowers you down. He positions you so that your back is against his chest and turns off the water when it’s high enough. You sense that he’s in his head again, not quite here even as he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

“Feeling okay?” he asks suddenly, tracing a mindless pattern along your arm.

You hum softly, “Yeah. Sore, though.”

“I expected that.” Another kiss, apologetic, against your shoulder. “Also...” Hoseok pauses, “I finished inside you. I didn’t ask. I’m sorry.”

The realisation dawns on you too and you shift a little to look at him, “I don’t mind, but....is that a bad thing?”

There’s a strange half smile on his lips and he lifts a hand to tug softly on one tangled end of your hair, gently sifting his fingers through until he’s satisfied. “It can be, if it takes. But, I’ll get something for it tomorrow.”

You notice that the marks you left along his skin have begun to fade already, and you poke at them with a finger. He heals quickly, you figured. He chuckles softly, taking your hand to press kisses along your finger tips and then to your palm. Your finger brushes over the mole on his upper lip gently and watch him melt.

He studies you for a moment, the same way he did before he left earlier, though, it’s softer now. “Would you like to come with me?”

You brighten, perking up with a nod, “Is that okay?”

Hoseok hums, mischief in his eyes, “If you promise not to run off as soon as you step foot outside.”

You roll your eyes and turn around, and Hoseok pulls you back to him with an arm around your middle. “I have nowhere to go.”

“I know, I was only teasing.” He chuckles.

You’re both quiet for a while, and you simply relax, almost falling asleep against him as the warm water soothes your aching muscles. You aren’t aware that you did, and only wake when Hoseok was just done tucking fresh clean sheets up to your chin. You’re back in his room but you don’t mind, the thought of going back to your own unsettles you right now. You haven’t forgotten your nightmare, and it’s something you’d definitely have to unpack another day.

You wait until he’s crawled in behind you, the warmth of him encasing you gently. His form melds against your back like he belongs there, an arm slipping under your head and the other over your hip. “Hoseok?”

“Yes Dove?”

You worry at your bottom lip, fingers finding his under the covers and they squeeze your own encouragingly. “There’s a friend of mine...I was with her before I met you.”

“I can help her.” He murmurs, and he sounds...sleepy. Today was a lot for him as well, you suppose. “I can get her a job here.”

You shift, turning to face him, he tucks you to him when you settle, chin resting on top of your head. “How are you gonna do that?”

You hear the smirk when he answers, “Do you think everything I have magically appeared? I own the hotel.”

“Wha—”

“Shh.” Hoseok squeezes your hip, “Go to sleep.”

Sometime later you’ll realise that Hoseok needed you more than he would admit. When you learn his tells he would help put himself back together with you instead of trying to do it alone.

Sometime later he’d take you to see her. When the wind is cold and the old oak tree reaches it’s bare, spindly arms to the frosted sky. When the day marks yet another year and he lets you put the flowers between the roots. He looks like a shadow against the glittering white, and he tells you he’s okay.

He’d take you to meet his friends at a club on the high-end and you’d would realise that he’s soft only with you and the guy who reminds you of a cat. With the others he’s closed off and friendly in a way that seems a little odd.

You’d see Abigail often and would skirt around how you actually met Hoseok when she’d ask. Anyone would think you’re crazy if you told them.

You spend most of your time at home while Hoseok goes off doing god knows what when he’s not there. It’s something to do with his friends and you never ask.

Then he’s there and everything beyond him and you and the space you both occupy doesn’t matter. And it’s kind of easy to forget where it all started – it’d been so long since you’d wondered where you were going to get anything to help you get by.

He’s made of cracks and splintered glass but he let you sink into the spaces, filled the pieces with you and settled. There would always be cracks in the glass that he’s made of, and there would always be a post in his fence that he needs to hammered in to fix. Despite the unconventional way you’d both started, the abnormality of his existence, you’d be there.

[bold, can't tag]

Tagging: @iammeandmeisiam , @imanhaitani @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @astormunchar @eoieopda @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @mssukeyna​ @euphoricfilter @luaspersona

#Persphonesorchid #Connotations of sin #jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #jhope #bts #bts jhope #bts hoseok #hobi #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic recs #hobi x reader #fallen angel #fallen angel au #jhope fluff #jhope smut #jhope angst

[spiteless-xo]

397 eren??? (:

eek you guys keep picking really good prompts!!

also this is lowkey tbaw!eren 👀

list of prompts

╰┈➤ smut prompts - 397. "I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this."

ft. eren/fem!reader cw. unedited, explicit sexual content (oral, cum swallowing, semi-public sex), explicit language. 1,095 words.

eren jaeger: can i see you in one of the meeting rooms? eren jaeger: i need your help with something

you frown down at your computer screen, watching the messages from eren pop up on your work messenger app.

you: what is it?

eren jaeger: just help me eren jaeger: please? 🥺

against your better judgment, you agree, and he books a meeting room for the two of you for the next hour. you grab your things: your laptop, your coffee, a pen -- but you have no idea what you might need for this.

"where are you going?" jean asks, peeking over the privacy divider between your two desks.

"just a meeting," you explain, keeping things vague as you feel your chest heat in embarrassment. "i'll be done before lunch."

he nods in understanding and you walk off towards the meeting room in the back corner of the office. it's one of the larger ones -- too big for just the two of you -- with a large table in the centre of the room and a view of the city below from the two windowed walls. when you enter the room, eren is already there, waiting.

"what's going on?" you ask, closing the door behind you as your approach eren. you take a seat next to him at the table and you look over at him with furrowed brows. his face is flushed and his hairline is littered with beads of sweat -- he seems nervous. "are you ok?"

he looks over at you, pained, as he rolls his chair back to reveal his lap from underneath the table. he spreads his thighs open and you're immediately drawn to the bulge straining against the thigh of his slacks.

"eren!"

"i can't get rid of it," he hisses, squeezing his cock through his pants. "i need your help."

"how am i supposed to help?"

"suck it?" eren asks, like it's obvious, as he starts to work on undoing his belt.

"eren, what the fuck?" you whisper, eyes wide as you spin around to look at the door. "we're at the office!"

"it's not like we haven't hooked up here before."

when you turn back around, he's got his cock gripped in his hand. it's thick and red and already leaking precum from the tip. he pumps his fist along his length, smearing the precum around the tip with his thumb and his head falls back against the chair.

"fuck," he groans, "that feels so good."

despite your better judgment, you feel your mouth watering as you press your thighs tightly together. "are you close?"

"i'm really close," he pants, lifting his other hand to your thigh and squeezing it gently. "i just need your mouth on me -- it won't take long, i promise."

you take another cautionary glance toward the closed meeting room door before dropping to your knees between eren's thighs. "ok, but just this once," you concede.

you replace his hand with yours, squeezing him firmly and -- fuck, ok, he's really hard.

"holy shit, eren," you murmur, gathering spit on your tongue. "how did you get like this?"

"thinkin' about you," he pants, grasping the back of your head with his palm and gently guiding your head forward. "come on, i don't wanna get caught."

hovering your mouth over the head of his cock, you let a thick glob of drool spill from your mouth. he whimpers at the feeling of your spit sliding against his cock, and then bucks his hips forward as your hand spreads it across his length.

before he can urge you again, you wrap your lips around him and take him into your mouth.

"fuck," he hisses, biting his lip hard as he watches you bob up and down along his cock. you stroke the remaining length with your hand as you press your flat tongue firmly against the underside of his cock. "i didn't think you'd actually do it."

you look up at him with furrowed brows, but he pushes your head down onto him until the head of his cock brushes against the back of your throat. you gag lightly at the sudden intrusion before moving your hand to his base, relaxing your throat as you ease him gently deeper.

eren is a mess above you -- biting the knuckles of his free hand to muffle his moans as his other hand helps guide your pace along his cock. you can taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue and you clench your thighs together as you sit perched on your knees.

you want to touch yourself, but it's too risky. this is bad enough -- you don't want to get caught with your fingers buried inside of you, too!

"shit, i'm close," he groans. his hips start to buck up off the chair to force himself deeper down your throat, causing the chair to squeak loudly. "don't stop, don't stop."

he grabs a handful of your hair as he moves your head in tandem with his hips, fucking your mouth and filling the room with the wet sounds of his cock in your throat.

"fuck, did you remember to lock the door?" he asks, and you feel a chill running down your spine -- no, you didn't.

"someone might walk in --" he says, and suddenly he doesn't sound so desperate anymore -- now, he sounds sinister. "see you -- fuck -- on your knees with my dick down your throat -- you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

the thought has you pressing your palm between your legs and you can feel your pussy squeezing around nothing as eren uses your throat.

"fuck, i knew -- i knew you were a little freak," he laughs airily. "come on, baby -- open wide and take my cum."

he pulls you off of his cock completely, gripping the base as you kneel before him with your tongue hanging out of your mouth. you look up at him with glazed eyes from your arousal, panting heavily to catch your breath as you feel the first rope of cum across your tongue.

he groans loudly, eyes never leaving your face as he shoots his cum into your mouth until the last of it just spills over his fingers. you gather his cum on your tongue, playing with it in your open mouth before swallowing back his load.

"holy shit," he groans, stuffing his cum-covered fingers into your mouth to clean up, too. "we've got this room booked for the full hour -- lemme help you, now."

#eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren x reader #eren smut #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #aot x reader #aot smut #snk x reader #snk smut #fem!reader #tiff.fic #tiff.ask #eren #eren.os

[swimmingismywholelife]

Inspiration

Dedicated to the Puli girls who have given me inspo to start writing again! (Also this is my first bit of writing in literal years please be nice to me lmao) (Also also if I missed anyone in the tags sorry I’m lowkey running late for work so that’s my bad just let me know if you wanna be added!)

Summary: Even though the press conference is supposed to be about him, Christian can't help but look over at the one who he really owes the win to.

Warnings: Nothing this is just straight fluff lmao.

Word Count: 1004

You loved supporting your boyfriend. Truly Christian Pulisic was one of the most hardworking people you’d ever met, and you admired the passion he had everywhere he went. After all, it was one of the qualities that led to you falling for him in the first place. The past few weeks had been difficult for him, but he pushed through and never gave up (not that you would let him anyway). He deserved all the praise he received because he worked hard to better himself every single day, and you never turned down the opportunity to show the world just how proud you were of him.

Hence why you were seated off to the side, “Pulisic” being proudly displayed across your back while he finished up his press conference with Weston. He’d had so many setbacks within the past few months, and you knew he was frustrated with being away from the pitch for so long. Throughout the game were a few times you gritted your teeth, praying he wouldn’t aggravate his injury, but it was nothing Christian couldn’t handle. He’d just had two assists and a goal against Grenada, helping his team officially qualify for the Gold Cup in the summer. To top it all off, he’d done it with symbol of Captain wrapped around his bicep. You couldn’t have asked for a better game for him.

Yet despite this press conference meant to celebrate the team’s win, Christian insisted you be there throughout the entire interview. Christian was so proud of the way his team played, and he was pretty happy with his performance. But for him, the best part of his night didn’t come from any of his assists. It didn’t come from the comfortable lead the boys had throughout the entire game. Hell, it didn’t even come from the goal he didn’t think he’d end up getting. 

No, rather Christian was most happy that you were right there in the stands by his side, just like you always were. Ever since he got injured, he’d spent weeks frustrated that he couldn’t play like he wanted to. He knew what people had been saying about him online, and he wanted nothing more than to prove them wrong. But despite the negativity that suffocated him, you were the light that he needed to keep going. You centered him, helping him remember what he was doing and why he was doing it. You constantly inspired him to be the best version of himself that he could be. Even when he doubted himself, you always had enough belief in him for the both of you. 

Christian wanted the world to know just how much you meant to him, even if it was just you sitting off to the side as he answered questions. He snuck glances at you every so often, his eyes full of love. He adored how incredibly breathtaking you looked tonight. Christian always thought you were the most beautiful thing in this world, but he couldn’t help but admire you even more as you sat there, eyes twinkling with pride and his last name across your back.

“This question is for Christian,” one of the interviewers said.

His head snapped back in front of him, wanting to give the man his full attention.

“I noticed that throughout the night, you’ve kept peeking your head off to the side. Is there any particular reason as to why?”

Christian blushed ever so slightly, Weston slightly nudging his friend teasingly.

“Um yeah. Sorry this isn’t gonna be about football and I might go on a bit of a tangent, but it’s because my incredible girlfriend is sat over there. She’s actually part of the reason I played so well today.” 

He chuckled a bit, his eyes lighting up with excitement the more he spoke.

“She’s been so incredibly supportive throughout my entire career, and especially throughout these past few weeks. Getting injured was pretty rough for me, but she’s kept me pretty level headed. Even when I was at my lowest, her faith in me overpowered any negativity I had. She’s my good luck charm for sure, and I don’t think I ever would’ve made it this far if it wasn’t for her.”

He looked over at you once again. You were on the verge of tears, your heart feeling like it could burst at any moment. You were so in love with this man and truly you couldn’t believe how you managed to find someone like him.

“Every day I thank God for allowing me to be a part of her life because I can’t imagine anyone else really. Like honestly, I’m so much better because of her, both on and off the field. So yeah, I know tonight was a great game, but the best part for me was the fact that my girl was in the crowd wearing my jersey and cheering us on. And so yeah if you’ve seen me looking off to the side, it’s because I remind myself just how lucky I really am to have her.”

The crowd aw’ed at Christian’s proclamation. He’s right, his answer wasn’t really about football. But it was clear to everyone in that room that to him, you were just as important to the game as any practice Christian could’ve put in. Though he had won the game that night, he felt like every day he won because he had you by his side.

The interview continued on for a little while longer, but Christian continuing looking right at you. For now, your last name was only on in the form of his jersey. But he knew one day that it would be your last name too because there was no one else he would’ve wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And as the two of you smiled shyly at each other as though you were the only ones in the room, the genuine love you and Christian shared touched all who you were lucky enough to witness it.

Taglist: @neverinadream​ @pulisicsgirl​ @masonspulisic @lovelynikol16​ @chelseagirl98​ @bracedes​

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic fluff #swimmingismywholelife

[luvrseung]

jake as ur best friends brother and u develop feelings lol 😆

ehehehe here you go ehehe

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃'𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

## pairing(s)! bff's older brother! jake x reader

## genre! mostly fluff with the tiniest bit of angst

## wc! 1.2k

## warning(s)! cursing, and not much else?? but if u feel like there should be any other warnings pls lmk asap!

## a/n! another request! lowkey i love doing reqs 🫶🏻 this was very fun to do and there could possibly be a part 2 if this gets enough likes?? or if you want a part 2 LMKKKKK‼️ anywayssss enjoy~ [PART 2 OUT NOW!! <3 CLICK HERE! :D]

You’re not sure where or when it started, but you were definitely in a whole that was dug way too deep. The Sims were your absolute favorite siblings. Jake’s little sister, Bella, was your bestest friend and absolute favorite person on the planet. Growing up, and even up until now, it’s always been “y/n and Bella!” Or vice versa. To make a long story short, the two of you were the same person in different fonts. You were an only child, so having Bella around was like having a sister and best friend wrapped in one. It was also a bonus that she lived across the street from you. The two of you were always at each others’ houses and you wouldn’t want it any other way. The two of you did everything together and will keep doing everything together. You two were quite literally two peas in a pod.

Jake was a year older than the both of you. Growing up, he was close with you guys. But when high school started, he made new friends and met new people. That resulted in him being around less and less. Now that you think about it, maybe that’s when it started. Once Jake started high school and you and Bella were still in junior high. Seeing him less made you miss him. Jake being on the high school’s football team also subtracted the amount of times you would see him. But you definitely only missed him because he was fun to be around, right? That was definitely the sole reason and nothing else, right? Yeah…no.

The summer after 8th grade, before you first year of high school was when you realized you missed him because you liked him. How cliche, you think. Liking your best friend’s brother? Great. You didn’t think Jake would reciprocate your feelings, so you kept them hidden. You kept your feelings hidden when he introduced everyone to his first girlfriend. You kept your feelings hidden when he dyed his hair blonde. That was very hard on you, to be honest. And you definitely kept your feelings hidden when Jake would come home from practice to hang out with you and Bella.

“Oh, word? She’s really pretty.”

“Yeah..” Jake lets out a nervous giggle, “Yeah, she is.”

“Yeah..” Jake lets out a nervous giggle, “Yeah, she is.”

“Bro,” Jay speaks up, “You totally like her.”

“What? No I don’t, what makes you think that?”

“Dude, your ears are bright ass red right now,” heeseung speaks up.

“Okay? That could mean anything.”

“So… you wouldn’t care if I asked her out, right? Since you don’t like her that way,” Sunghoon chimes back in.

“Nah dude, she’s off limits,” Jake replies. The rest of his friends give him a look. “Hey, don’t look at me like that! She’s my little sister’s best friend. It would be so weird to see her around with one of you guys.”

“Yeah, because you like her, dude,” jay interjects.

“Okay, no. You guys got it all wrong. I see her like a little sister. You guys wanna protect your little sisters, no?”

Sunghoon speaks again, “Well, yeah. But who would be better for her than one of your closest friends, right?”

“Dude, for real. She’s off limits.”

“Oh, so someone else can have her, right? What about Sunoo? He’s really nice,” Jay adds in.

At this point, Jake starts feeling frustrated. Which results in him blurting out the first thing that comes into his mind.,“No way! She’s mine! What does he have that I don’t?” After he got that out, he looks at friends with realization. “Shit,” he manages to get out, “I have feelings for my little sister’s best friend.”

“We’ve literally been telling you this whole time“ heeseung tries to interject.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Jake surrenders and the other guys start to laugh at him. “Hey! Fuck you guys!” He says while giving everyone the finger. He realizes now, that he’s in some deep shit.

© luvrseung - do not plagiarize, repost, translate, copy, or alter any of my content please and thank you.

#enhypen network #fics cafe #enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen au #enhypen ff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarios #enhypen Jake #sim jaehyun #sim Jake #sim jaeyun #enhypen jake sim #enhypen sim jaeyun #bfb

[cybrsan]

Hey cutieeee congrats on ur 100! I hope we can become moots!!

I was wondering if you can do a yunho request :33333

I was thinking of request 125 & 148 fluff

There’s lowkey so many from ur prop I wanna request for but I don’t wanna overwhelm you so I will wait ><

Aw, thank you so much, you're so sweet <3 I am more than happy to write something for Yunho! I've been meaning to for a while, I have been so in his lane recently, omg.

Prompts:  125. “Here, let me help you.” + 148. “I really want to kiss you right now.” “Then do it.” Pairing: Best Friend!Yunho x F!Reader Genre: Fluff Word Count: <1k Tags/warnings: Friends to lovers, mutual pining

Requests are currently closed, but my masterlist can be found here.

“Yunho, I don’t know why you are insisting that we do this. You know I’m awful at games.”

Yunho doesn’t take no for an answer and practically forces the VR headset into your hands. You’re surprised by the weight of it; it’s much lighter than you expected. Somewhat intrigued, your fingers trace the smooth edges, following the curves of the device.

“See, isn’t it cool? It’ll be fun,” he promises, practically bouncing up and down with excitement. “Plus, this is different from a normal video game so maybe you’ll be better at it.” When you make no move to put it on, he adds a sickeningly sweet “Please?” with puppy eyes that make it impossible to resist. 

“Alright, fine. You’re lucky I like you.”

He beams at you, and you practically melt into a puddle. It’s so hard being friends with someone you can never say no to. How are you supposed to when he looks that happy when you agree? He could outshine the sun with the brightness of his smile. You put the headset on; it’s a bit too loose, and you struggle with the straps as you try to adjust it. Yunho chuckles, watching you endearingly for a moment before moving towards you.

“Here, let me help you,” he says, his slender fingers making quick work of the straps. Once he tightens them, he gently shakes the headset to make sure it stays put. “Feel okay?” 

You nod, and after a few bouts of dizziness later, you have managed to adjust to the virtual world and are doing a pretty good job of killing zombies and watching Yunho’s back. You’re in the middle of a particularly chaotic fight, with enemies coming at you from all sides, when you feel a very real pain on the back of your head. You yelp, stumbling over your feet and falling to the ground.

Yunho immediately pauses the game and comes to your aid, kneeling beside you and helping you get your headset off. He inspects the back of your head for any noticeable wound, apologizing non-stop all the while.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing, I didn’t mean—”

You cut him off with a laugh. “Yunho, I’m fine. It hurts a little, but it’s nothing major.” 

He looks at you, a twinkle of embarrassment in his eyes. “I promise I’ll stop forcing you to play games with me now.”

“You don’t force me to do anything—I may pretend I don’t want to, but I always will because it’s something you enjoy, and you mean a lot to me.” He seems to blink away tears at your words, and you gape at him. “Jeong Yunho! Tell me you’re not about to cry right now.”

“No, no, I’m not,” he insists, laughing. A beat passes, something changing in the air between you, and you suddenly feel a lot more conscious of his touch. His hands are still lingering, one mindlessly playing with your hair while the other holds one of your own, his thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of your knuckles.   

You look at him, really look at him, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to take in his every detail. While he has always been attractive, it is in these past few years that he has truly flourished. He has managed to find his confidence and now carries himself in such a way that demands the attention of those around him.

His soft, chestnut-brown hair has gotten long, a few loose strands falling across his forehead. His eyes are warm and inviting, and he always looks at you as if he hangs on every word that you say. His lips… as much as you try to avert your gaze, not wanting to give into the thought of what they might feel like on yours out of fear of what that might do to your friendship, you find yourself unable. 

“I really want to kiss you right now.” 

The words are out of your mouth before you can give them a second thought. Yunho’s eyes widen, and he freezes, obviously not having expected things to take this turn. You go to backtrack, to pretend like it was just a joke, when suddenly he’s intertwining his fingers with your own and pulling you closer.

“Then do it,” he murmurs.

And so you do. The second your lips touch, it’s like something within you sparks to life, igniting a fire that has long been smoldering beneath the surface. Time seems to stand still as the world around you fades into oblivion, and all you can focus on is him. His hand tangles in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer as if now that he has you, he never plans on letting go. It’s obvious now that this is both something you have been yearning for, something that you have been holding back from. Together, you tumble over the point of no return, willing to deal with whatever the consequences may be. 

When you part, breathless and wide-eyed, neither of you seems to know what to say. The air crackles with anticipation and uncertainty. But Yunho, never one for awkward silences, takes it upon himself to be the first to speak.

“Should I be concerned that this stemmed from me hitting you?”

You immediately laugh, flinging yourself at him as the tension in the room dissolves. “Hey, don’t make me sound like a weirdo!” 

He laughs too, pulling you close and pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t help it. Now,” he stands, holding out his hand and helping you up, “Why don’t we go get something to eat? Seems like we have quite a bit to talk about. It’ll be my treat to make up for hurting you.”

“Sounds good to me. Don’t complain when I order one of everything!”

He just shakes his head, smiling at you fondly as he follows you out of the door.

#jeong yunho x reader #yunho x reader #jeong yunho fluff #yunho fluff #jeong yunho imagines #yunho imagines #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #jeong yunho drabbles #yunho drabbles #ateez fic #ateez requests #kpop fic #kpop fluff #kpop requests #my fic #100 followers #txt-yaomi #michi.req

[therealmsdelulu]

hm how bout something based off the song “don’t forget about us” by mariah carey where the reader and jonah dated for a couple years but eventually broke off…fast forward to now on one night where jonah shows up at the reader���s door regretting he moved on with his current gf and the reader shows him not to forget about what they had *wink wink* 🤭 (sorry this was too long-)

Don’t Forget About Us

Summary: Reader and Jonah broke up a while ago. Jonah got a new girlfriend but can’t get over what him and the reader had. Inspired by “Don’t forget about us” by Mariah Carey.

A/N: This is lowkey horrible, didn’t really know how to wrte the whole Ex’s to Lovers trope so please bare with me lol. Sorry this took so long.

Warnings: A little spicy towards the end.

Pairing: Jonah x Blk!reader

You and Jonah broke up about 7 months ago. Having dated for 3 years it was a very difficult break up. You couldn’t deal with his constant leaving, of course you knew his job before the two of you got together but you didn’t expect him being gone so often.

You were scrolling through instagram when you came across a picture of Jonah and a girl who looked creepily similar to you. “He clearly has a type,” you mumbled to yourself before liking the photo with the intention of being petty.

You decided you had better things to do than stalk your ex’s instagram so you got up and made yourself something to eat before sitting down on the couch and binge-watching your favourite show.

Your attention was diverted from the TV when you heard a knock on your door. You sighed before getting up from your comfortable position on the couch and opened the door to see Jonah standing in your doorway.

“What are you doing here,” you asked, a hint of confusion in your tone.

“I needed to see you,” he claimed. “Can I come in?” he asked hopefully and you moved to the side so that he could enter.

“Won’t your girlfriend be expecting you?” you asked cocking an eyebrow at the man in front of you.

“We broke up,” he informed you.

“You’re quick,” you remarked. “It’s been what 3 months and you’re already calling things off,” you asked teasingly.

“Every time I see you, I pretend I'm fine,” Jonah said. "I wanna reach out to you,” he admitted, "But I turn and I walk and I let it ride."

"I must confess, we were bigger than anything” you said as you walked closer to Jonah. "Remember us at our best,” you told him as you inched closer to him. "And don't forget about late nights, playing in the dark, and waking up inside my arms,” you whispered, reminding him of all the good memories you had created together.

"You'll always be in my heart,” Jonah confessed and he looked down at him smiling softly.

"I can see it in your eyes you still want it,” you added taking note of the way he was looking at you,"So don't forget about us"

“You know,” Jonah began as he returned the smile, "Nothing can compare to your first true love.”

You smiled at his words before gently cupping his face. “I’m glad you finally realized,” you teased and he put his hand up to reach yours.

“I think I really want to kiss you right now,” he whispered looking into your eyes for permission.

“Well I won’t stop you,” you claimed as he began to lean in and kiss you, his hands finding their familiar spot on your waist. The kiss wasn’t rushed, it was slow and passionate just like how they used to be.

“I really missed you,” he said quietly, his hands traveling lower down your body.

“Just me or did you miss something else,” you teased as you felt his hands travel lower and lower.

“Why don’t I just show you,” he suggested as he looked down at you and began to unbutton his shirt.

#jonah hauer king x reader #jonah hauer king #jonah hauer king fanfiction #jonah hauer king x y/n

[helloprettybb]

already yours

i’m in a lowkey angsty mood rn, so i wrote this.

pairing: uni!draco malfoy x reader

description: draco only loves you when you’re in bed.

warnings: smut, oral (f! receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, mean draco, implied fred weasley x reader (not really tho), dacryphilia, angsttt, sad ending

word count: 1.7k

It’s late. Too late for you to be awake, but you can’t stop thinking about him. You have it bad for him from the feeling of his hair between your fingers to the little praises he gives. The worst part is, you know he’s not thinking about you, at least, in that way.

As if summoned by the universe, you hear a knock on your door. At this hour, it could only be one person. A part of you wants to leave him at the door. Show him that you’re too good for whatever this is and he should treat you better. But you also know that he wouldn’t see it that way. He would simply leave and never come back.

You get out of bed and walk toward the door. Sighing before opening it, you are greeted by a distracted Draco. His eyes are glued to his phone and he doesn’t even spare a glance as he steps into your apartment.

“Hello, bunny,” he says. His eyes are still down and you tell yourself it’s just work, but you know that’s not true.

“Hi, Draco,” you reply. Draco pockets his phone and finally looks at you. Maybe it’s your tone or the look on your face, but he furrows his brows and tilts his head slightly.

“What’s wrong, bunny?” he asks. 

“Nothing,” you say. It’s your turn to avert your eyes, but Draco doesn’t like this. 

“Tell me what’s wrong. C’mon, bunny. Don’t lie to me,” He lifts your chin up gently and you lock eyes.

You want to tell him everything. About how you always think of him and want more than this. How you want to fall asleep in his arms and wake up beside him. You open your mouth and almost confess, but you stop at the last moment.

“Just had a bad day,” you lie. Draco hums.

“Well, I can fix that,” he says. With his hand on the back of your neck, Draco pulls you into a kiss. You close your eyes and for a second, imagine a reality where he loves you. He pulls you close with his other hand at your waist. The kiss grows heated and you moan into his mouth. You almost smile against his lips. You’re happiest with him, you think. But then you feel his hand move from your waist up to the hem of your shirt and you remember.

“Fuck, love it when you wear my clothes,” he says. You giggle when he picks you up. You wrap your legs around Draco’s waist as he carries you to your bedroom. Marking your neck with bites and kisses, you moan softly.

Draco places you down on the bed, not parting from you for a second. He kisses down your body before lifting your shirt up slightly and placing a chaste kiss right about your underwear. It’s soft and intimate. He always does this, luring you in with the hope of making love, before treating you like another one of his toys.

But still, you fall for it every time. Because you think maybe one time, your wish will come true. Draco snaps you out of your thoughts when he pulls your panties down and discards them across the room. With no respite, Draco begins sucking your clit. The initial touch makes you throw your head back against the bed and rake your fingers in his hair. You can feel yourself getting louder and almost muffle your voice. But then you remember that Draco likes the little noises you make. So you openly moan as he continues to eat you out. Your breath hitches when he slips a finger in.

“So wet, bunny,” he comments before diving back in. You grind your hips up, but Draco puts that to an end quickly with a harsh grip holding your hips down. He adds another finger and you feel your climax approaching.

Draco knows your body so well that he instantly picks up on your nearing orgasm. “You wanna cum for me, bunny?” he asks. You don’t answer, too lost in your pleasure. “I asked a question.” he warns.

“Y-yes, Dray. Wanna cum so bad,” you cry.

“Okay, bunny. Cum for me,” he says. He curls his fingers and you clutch the sheets beneath you. You moan loudly as Draco continues his assault on your pussy. Once your high fades, you start to whine.

“T-too much, Dray,” He pumps his fingers one more time before pulling out.

“You ready, bunny?” He unbuckles his belt and takes off his pants. You nod as you remove your shirt. You’re so eager for him that it’s excruciating to watch him undress. He finally takes off his button-up and reveals his toned body. You bite your lip as he hovers above you. You’re trapped between him and the bed as he strokes himself a couple of times. 

Draco lines himself up with your pussy before pushing in slowly. You gasp at the feeling of his cock. It’s overwhelming every time and you don’t think you’ll ever get sick of this moment when he’s most vulnerable. The moment where the two of you are connected and it feels like no one else exists. Draco groans lowly as he continues to push in until he bottoms out. 

You wrap your legs around Draco’s waist, signaling that he can move. Draco starts with a brutal pace, reminding you what this truly is. But nevertheless, you love every moment. You hold onto his back, but before you could mark him up, he pins your hands above your head. With one hand holding your wrists down, Draco uses the other to grab your hip so hard that you’re sure there will be a bruise tomorrow. 

“No marks, remember?” he says.

“I’m sorry, Dray,” you cry. You try to meet his thrusts with your hips, but find yourself succumbing to his pleasure quickly. You barely have the strength to keep your eyes open as you let him use you.

“It’s okay, bunny,” he says. The hand on your hip moves to your clit.

“D-dray,” you cry out. 

“You close?” he asks. You nod and he slaps your clit lightly. “Use your words. C’mon, be a good girl.”

“Y-yes, Dray. I’m so close. Please let me cum,” you beg. 

“I don’t know, bunny. Do you think I should let you cum?” he taunts.

“Yes, Dray. Please, I’ve been so good,”

“Have you?” He slows down to a filthy grind. He’s so deep with the head of his cock gracing your g-spot. “I’ve seen you around with Weasley. Are you fucking him too?”

“N-no. Only you, Draco,” you cry out. “I’m all yours,” you babble.

He groans, “Fuck yeah, you are. You belong to me, bunny. I’m the only one who fucks you this good. I’m the only one who sees how much of a fucking whore you are,” You moan at his words and feel yourself come closer to the edge.

“C-can I cum, Dray? Please.” your eyes are welling up with tears. You feel some of them begin to fall, but Draco doesn’t move to wipe them away. Instead, he lets them fall down your face.

“You’re so pretty when you cry on my cock,” he says. “Let go, bunny.” You spasm around his dick and almost let out the most obscene moan before Draco muffles you with his mouth. He picks up the pace, which lets you know he’s getting close, too.

“Fuck, bunny. Your pussy is so tight around me. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he mutters as he fucks your tired body.

“C-cum in me. Want your cum leakin’ outta me,” you mumble.

“Is that what you want? You wanna be full of me when you go to sleep? I bet you’re not even gonna wash me out, huh? I’ll be leakin’ out of your panties while you’re sitting in class tomorrow?” he mocks. You know you should be offended by his demeaning tone, but you can only imagine his cum inside you.

“Please, wanna be full,” you cry.

“F-fuck,” he says before spilling inside you. It feels like he cums forever and you feel a small orgasm creep up on you at the feeling of his warmth. You sigh breathily as Draco gives a few more shallow thrusts before stopping.

He catches his breath before slowly pulling out. You can feel some of his cum leaking out and you moan quietly. Draco’s already up and searching for his discarded clothes. This is your least favorite part, where Draco quickly redresses and leaves without a trace. You watch him silently as he buttons his shirt and fixes his hair in the mirror. Draco immediately goes on his phone, but just as he’s about to step out, he says your name.

“Yes?” you ask.

“Can I have this shirt back?” He’s holding up the shirt you were wearing earlier. “It’s Astoria’s favorite and she’s been asking where it is,” he says. You learned a long time ago to hide your reactions from Draco. So while you could have screamed at him to get out of your apartment or demanded him to make a choice between you or her, you simply nodded your head. Draco murmurs a quick thanks before leaving.

Once you hear your apartment door close, you curl up into a ball and cry.

#draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy imagines #harry potter imagines #harry potter smut #harry potter

[octolingkiera]

5, 15, 16, 29

hi!! thanks for your ask!! :3

(the list)

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

so on the one hand, my danny phantom fics always get a lot of attention and it always leaves me a little surprised, but on the other hand, that fandom is very fic focused, so at the same time it Doesn't really surprise me when i get a lot of kudos for them. what surprises me more is how much other fandoms DON'T comment or bookmark or follow fics lol. i was seriously spoiled with those lol

as for a fic that's gotten more feedback, uhhhh hm. a couple of my dp fics have done better than i thought they would, yeah, but i also have this bleach fic that's in second person that seems to have come across really well, so i guess that one's the most surprising lol

aftershocks has done really well, but that's not surprising considering the talent that went into it, the fact we updated every week, and the word count, but it still baffled me as we were updating it how well it was doing lol

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

definitely my rottmnt separated au (chapter 1 is posted on ao3 as sunset hues, jetpack blues (SHJB)) lol. ive been putting a lot of effort into it, more than i give most of my fics, tho i'm realizing now as i'm working more on planning i may have jumped the gun a bit and posted it a biiit early?? but also i wanted to post it on my birthday so i'm not so concerned about that kdshbfhdsf

when i post chapter 2 (which is basically done except for the final revision i need to give it), i'm gonna reread chapter 1 as well and make sure it's up to date with the minor stuff i left out bc i hadn't nailed down some specifics yet (but dw, it'll be Very minor and won't effect the plot lol)

besides that, i have oneshot prompts i wanna fill out and i have a fic in the works i'm calling Fallout, which is inspired by fall out boy songs (which ive been thinking about since like february/march when "love from the other side" dropped lol)

i also lowkey wanna try to get a fic done for danny phantom's 20th anniversary in april but idk how that's gonna go lol. i'm still very focused on ninja turtles

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

of my 54 works on ao3 Fluff seems to be my most used tag with 10 times, which is. lowkey a surprise LOL. Hurt/Comfort comes in second with 7 (tied with "not beta read" and a tag for a danny phantom fic event) and Angst is in third with 6 (barring the two that i'm not counting lol)

going by just my rise fics, first place tag goes to Donatello and Leonardo are Twins (TMNT) with 6 of my 8 fics (ao3 says 9, but one of them is aftershocks, which i won't include bc it's a collab) and only reason it's not all 8 is bc i didn't tag it in fics where it's not a main focus lol

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

hmmmm let's see.... okay what have i written this year....

oh god that's a lot more than i thought, uhhhh

i have a lot of stuff i Really enjoyed tbh. there's a fun little action sequence i wrote for a later part of SHJB that i liked (that i'll prolly have to rework a little), there's a few Other parts of my prewritten SHJB stuff i enjoy, there's a bunch of stuff in my rise august fills i really liked...

but i think for a single line/passage, i'll go with this bit from the beginning of my fic what's in a name? (which is also posted here on tumblr!!)

Donnie, not bothering to look up from his phone, flaps a hand in the air dismissively. “I keep all my anger bottled up in here,” he taps his chest, “and hope one day it will just kill me. Like a normal person,” he adds, as if what he just described is unequivocally a universal experience.

this entire piece was a lot of fun to write and there's some more silly lines in this i really enjoyed but i think this is the one i think about the most, like the exchange directly after this lol

Leo purses his lips and steeples his hands, holding this fingers to his mouth. “So that’s a yes to the mad, then.” “Or it could be, like, the coo-coo for cocoa puffs type of mad!” Mikey chimes in, crossing his eyes and swirling a finger beside his ear. “Y’know, like British people say.” “Ew,” Leo says, because that’s all that needs to be said about that.

and this line a little bit down from that

Raph’s next exhale is heavy, the burden of Atlas in his eternal torment. “Pizza Supreme, I wish.”

thanks again for your ask!!! these were a lot of fun to answer. i love talking about my writing dfjghbdfg get me started and i'll never shut up lol

#thanks for the ask! #sometimes i like talking about writing more than i like actually writing #it's a lot of work and my focus and motivation don't always let me write much #but GOd am i excited for my sep au #it's taking a lot of work #and a lot of research #but i want it to be the best that it can be #at least some of this research is really interesting tho :0 #like this fic has me going insane and making a million notes #i even made little flashcards for the episodes so i could physically see where they might fit the timeline lol #ask #answer #and since they were all mentioned #rottmnt #danny phantom #bleach #aftershocks #i think i have this tagged??? #if not oh well lol #i do now

[jamesunderwater]

Hi! It's me again <3

You said I could be greedy so I have some more important questions for you : D All about within HP universe.

Which character do you identify with the most?

Who is your favourite character to read about?

Favourite to write about?

Which character do you hate the most?

Which character do you find the most challenging to write about (or just dislike writing about them and avoid it LOL)

Hi again! <3 These are such important questions, I'm glad you asked. Truly how can you know a person until you know their answers to these.

Which character do you identify with the most?

Honestly, probably Harry (I have i'm the main character syndrome, so sue me). I relate to the trauma and neglect he experienced in childhood, the difficulty of feeling like you don't fit in/belong, wondering when the fuck bad things are gonna stop happening to you, and all the while trying to remain a good person, not let your anger overtake you. Also the way he kept most things inside and felt like he had to do it all on his own; the whole scene with him and Dumbledore after Sirius dies and Harry yells, "I DON'T CARE!" and throws something across the room, and Dumbledore says, "You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it." I felt that in my bones and still tear up at it now. I dunno. He just takes hit after hit and he keeps getting back up and it's so hard for him to accept love because it's always only ever been taken from him but he learns to trust and rely on his friends and 🥺 yeah. For almost all the same reasons I also very closely relate to Sirius, but Sirius and Harry handled their circumstances in very different ways, and I relate more to how Harry handles things.

Who is your favourite character to read about?

That's HARD oh god. Okay I think my knee-jerk answer is Sirius, I think my 'wait no maybe-' answer is Remus, I think my actual answer is Lily, and I think the answer I wish I were giving is Ginny. Sirius I could read about until I'm dust and bones, but Remus fascinates me because I don't understand him as well as I understand Sirius and when people write Remus well I'm like FUCk I need to HUG YOU RIGHT NOW. But I find myself actually reading depthfully written Lily fics and remembering them for a long time afterward more than anything. And Ginny just - I should really get into good Ginny fics, because lowkey she is one of my top 5 favorite characters in the books and there's SO MUCH there to work with.

Favourite to write about?

Sirius. There's no question. Or James, but specifically in regard to his love for others, because I just think there's no character who loves more purely than he does.

Which character do you hate the most?

So the competition is fierce between Snape, Dumbledore, Bellatrix, and Umbridge. Realistically, the one who literally triggers a physiological fight or flight response in me is Umbridge, so it's probably her. But Bellatrix is just - I can't get over her killing Sirius and laughing, or gleefully driving the Longbottoms insane, or carving mudblood into Hermione's arm. I hate Snape the child abuser, Dumbledore the manipulator, and Umbridge the scum of the earth, but Bellatrix Lestrange is like an unforgivable character to me.

Which character do you find the most challenging to write about (or just dislike writing about them and avoid it LOL)

Omg, Peter Pettigrew. I have yet to write a marauders fic where I don't treat him like the forgotten unwanted stepchild. Kinda wanna get better about it but ughhhhhhhhh

#thank you for letting me indulge myself with these awesome questions athena xD #i hope you don't regret asking now that i've written an entire essay of answers lol #athenasparrow #charlie mail #me #hp

[ariondevereux]

nikkaaaaa, hello!

Ask incoming heh, what song would you assign your oc with? Like their theme song! 👀✨

i wanted to do as many ocs as i could but this was so much harder than i thought 😭

maya: be kind - halsey

i don't know why you hide from the one / and close your eyes to the one / mess up and lie to the one that you love / when you know you can cry to the one / always confide in the one / you can be kind to the one that you love

so we all know about maya’s emotional baggage 😔 this song is pretty much what jordan and the team especially phoenix want to get through maya’s head. they just want her to let them be there for her

lira: people i don’t like - upsahl

everybody in this party's fucking fake / i really wish that I could say it to your face / but i won't, so / hello, it's so good to see you / we met before, but nice to meet you / yeah, i don't really wanna be here

lira isn’t snobby but she barely goes out of her way to socialize because as the mayor’s daughter, she’s seen enough fakery and has had enough people butter her up for connections and she doesn’t want any part of it

abby: that way - tate mcrae ft. jeremy zucker

every time we talk, it just hurts so bad / 'cause i don't even know what we are / i don't even know where to start / but i can play the part / we say we're friends, but i’m catching you across the room / it makes no sense 'cause we're fighting over what we do / and there's no way that i’ll end up being with you / but friends don't look at friends that way

still can't tell / if we both mean well / keep me guessing / if this is life or hell / think i might've said too much, bit the dust / now i’m kinda dizzy / overthinking us until i’m drunk and sick of this whole city / don’t know where to start / don’t know how to hold my heart / and if we're really what we say we are / then why is this so hard?

the duet version screams shiloh and abby. i have like a better explanation in my head but i can’t put it into words 😭😭 but it’s about them exchanging mixed signals because there’s shiloh whose flirting can be straightforward but sometimes he’s careful because he doesn’t want abby to feel like he’s stringing her along. like i imagine that’s also him lowkey trying to make his feelings known but there’s abby who always takes it the wrong way and thinks he’s just a natural flirt and that at the end of the day she’s still just his best friend and that’s all she’s ever gonna be because sometimes he’s too flirty and sometimes he’s not flirty enough and as much as she swears she can sense there’s something going on between them, she’s scared it’s one-sided and like if her heart is gonna get broken by someone, she really doesn’t want it to be shiloh. ugh the pining is so good but also frustrating because for two people who claim to know each other better than anyone else, they have too many mixed signals

piper: dear no one - tori kelly

so if you're out there, i swear to be good to you / but i’m done lookin' for my future someone / ‘cause when the time is right, you'll be here but for now / dear no one, this is your love song

the rest of the song is so piper actually, especially the verses about her enjoying her own company but i’m not gonna copy and paste the whole song djsjsks anyways like implied in the lyrics, piper is a romantic but she’s not desperate and rushing. she definitely wasn’t looking for anything when she met nikolas. it just sorta happened but it felt right from the get go sooo <3

cece: take off all your cool - sabrina carpenter

you don't always gotta leave me guessing / i know you wanna leave a good impression / but you did it, you did without tryin'

idk how the romance route is gonna happen in canon but in my head, reese and cece catch feelings for each other at around the same time. not just the “she’s hot/he’s hot” kinda crush. it’s more like reese genuinely feels comfortable to show cece this side of him that’s less smooth and more goofy, like more him. in my head, he starts to smile a lot more than he smirks and yeah. cece likes it 🫣 lololol but yeah cece didn’t really mean to like Like him but she sees him in a new light and she badly wishes she’d see that reese more often

emory: love again - new hope club

tell me, have i lost my mind again? / i get the feeling you might feel the same / tell me you can feel that love, feel that love again / and even though we're in this crowded room / i’m feeling like there's no one else but you / tell me you can feel that love, feel that love again

i think it’s self-explanatory 😭 but yeah she never really got over qiu and this is exactly how i imagine her thot process when she meets him again

bianca: fucked up summer - rosie darling

it’s gonna be a fucked up summer without you / ‘cause i can't stop thinkin' about you / kissing your tattoos, smokin' in your room / i let my guard down, i never meant to

ignore the fact that this is a song about an ex or smth as well as the “summer” part lmao anyway bianca didn’t mean to find love shortly after a breakup but she met shay and the heart wants it wants </3 idk how it’s gonna happen in the game but if shay’s down, bianca would definitely want to try and make the long distance work because there’s no way shay would ask her to stay in sg when she has her studies in nyc. either way, the lyrics are what i imagine bianca thinks about when she leaves sg—just her reminiscing the short time she spent with him. there’s also a line that goes “my bracelet, shoelaces i stole from your combat boots” and that is something bianca would definitely do

#i tried to associate songs with my ocs alone but the otp vibes are too strong 😔 #alya 💕 #nikka answers

[sensesdialed-aa]

Scene in canon: Attempting to save Vulture from himself

@valiiantsouls​ // send me a scene that happened in canon and I’ll write in detail how my muse felt in it!

     SMOKE FILLS THE AIR ON THE BEACH, flickering flames curling across the sand and bright embers soaring past blurred vision as Peter turns on the sand, falling onto his back and letting out and gasping for a breath of air. Same smoke travels to his lungs, chest TIGHT and every inch of his body practically screaming in pain. Underneath the suit ( his first one-- hastily sewn together fabric, already charred and cut ), bruises bloom across pale form, skin splitting  with each cut. His chest BURNS with a fire stronger than the ones on the beach, the white-hot feeling of metal talons SINKING into his torso lingering each time he is slammed into the ground, before left to lay there with the Vulture towering over him. 

      Sound still slightly muffled, Peter catches the coughs that sputter out, before metallic wing SLAMS right down next to him-- barely even a moment’s reaction besides a slight flinch, and a separate edge of the wing slowly begins to lift him into the air, dangling almost lifelessly. And he wants to fight back, he HAS to fight back, but his eyelids, his LIMBS are heavy, and a small part of him wishes he could stay collapsed. MAYBE HE WAS RIGHT. MAYBE HE IS NOTHING WITHOUT THE SUIT. 

      Thoughts scream for him to struggle, to break free, to fight, but they’re SLOW, against persistent pain and the constant buzzing in his head, and for a MOMENT, he finds a chill running up his spine-- Toomes is going to kill him.    

                                                                                “Bingo.” 

     PETER FALLS to the sand again, landing with a thud and another BURST of pain. Sound of the Vulture’s suit rings through the air as smoke falls over him, and slowly, Peter lifts his head. Hair dirty and matted, blood clinging to his lower lip, just in time to spot the Vulture picking up one of the boxes-- and the metal contraption SPARKING uncontrollably. 

    “Your wings-” Peter forces out-- bare fingers curl into the sand, slowly pushing himself upwards. “YOUR WING SUIT’S GONNA EXPLODE!” But he doesn’t hear, doesn’t LISTEN, and even after EVERYTHING ( the lake, the ferry, the car ride, the warehouse ), Peter CAN’T let him die. Sudden, determined drive surges through him, and Peter carefully lifts his right arm-- it shakes ( wrist broken, no time to pay attention to it ), but slowly, he presses two fingers against his palm, and SHOOTS out a web. 

   The moment it attaches to the box, Peter is PULLED to his feet-- every inch of him BURNS, needle-like pain at every bruise and gash, although through groans of pain, he manages to steady himself, digging his feet into the sand. “AgH-- AH!” Both hands clutching his webbing, he looks up at the malfunctioning suit. 

         “Time to go home, Pete!” 

   “I’m trying to SAVE YOU!” He rasps, throat ACHING with each word, but he keeps his hold. Except it isn’t ENOUGH, because in only a moment, the wing cuts synthetic material, and the web SNAPS, sending Peter falling on his back. No, no! He tries to shoot another one, ANOTHER WEB, before the sinking realization that he’s run out hits, and there’s nothing else to do but watch as everything comes crashing down. 

    “AH!” Hands behind his head, Peter quickly shifts, curling on the ground as he readies himself for the explosion, before...a crash. Fire erupts from the scene, and Peter lifts his head to see again-- no, no, he isn’t letting anyone die. Not even the flying Vulture guy, not Liz’s DAD. It SWELLS through his chest, and Peter doesn’t care about the suit, about the webs, about ANYTHING except fixing this. He’s going to make it right. Pained noises escape as he pushes himself up, but the moment Peter makes it to his feet, he SPRINTS across the beach. 

   Thrown an opening in the flames, he dives RIGHT into the scene, a hand held in front of his face as a scorching hot sensation echoes across his body. Where is he?! Where is he?! Where is he?! Frantic gaze flickers around the scene, until he spots the collapsed suit, and Peter rushes towards it. He reaches out for the suit, hot metal immediately BURNING pair fingertips, and Peter gasps, clenching his teeth as he holds his hand tight to his chest. No, keep going, he has to do this! Pushing the pain aside, he places both hands underneath the material, LIFTING IT up before tossing it aside-- there. 

      Soon enough, he’s walking out of the flames, each step with another echo of pain, but a weight finally LIFTED the moment he places Toomes’ collapsed form on the ground: saved. Legs finally giving out underneath him, Peter falls to the ground beside the other, one hand clutching his shoulder as he gasps and coughs. Vision tilts slightly when his eyes open, black spots swirling ‘round his sight, but again, Peter pushes through. And the realization hits-- he did it, saved Toomes, was SOMETHING. Feet planted into the sand, he stands, finally towering over Toomes as the battle comes to its final conclusion. 

#(once again..i have rambled kjHBDSJ) #(lowkey i think this Could Be Better but i really wanna get across how. he won this fight bc of empathy and his /heart/ cause that really is #what happened...although my brain is all over the place so KJDSN) #valiiantsouls #🕸 ❝ i’ve been so good but it’s still getting harder ❞ → drabble #🕸 ❝ another one bites the dust ❞ → answered

[hoonhrt]

ENHYPEN WHEN THEY’RE SICK

: pairing — sick boyfriend! enhypen x reader

: genre — so soft :( (maybe angsty??)

: warnings —  mentions of vomiting and being ill 

: a/n — i started school again after my break so i’ve been so caught up trying to focus on it :(

･:*:･ﾟ☆ heeseung

he’d be coughing and sniffling the night before and when you ask him he is feeling sick he’d very dramatically say:

“absolutely not! i have like the strongest immune system ever baby i cant believe you’d question MY immune system”

he woke up the next morning with a full blown fever.

HED BE SO WHINY :((

wants you to lay next to you all day long csuse he claims you are his “human furnace”

croaks from your shared bedroom when you get up to get medicine and some hot soup

only agrees to take the medicine if you feed him

once he does take the medicine, he sits there with his mouth open so you can feed him his food

you just stare at him the whole time like 😐😐 am i taking care of my boyfriend or a child 😐😐

he’s staring at you like 🥺🥺🥺 cause he’s so thankful to have you in his life

he squirms into your arms and hides his face in the crook of your neck, already feeling better as you play with his hair

leaves little kisses on your neck as his way to thank you for taking care of him

･:*:･ﾟ☆ jay

tries to convince you he is okay #1

“no angel! i’m okay it’s nothing okay i’m fine psshhh no worries”

doesn’t work as you woke up from his loud coughs in the middle of the night :(

he is very stubborn and continues you to insist that he is okay and that he can take care of himself (he just doesn’t wanna burden you)

everytime you say you’re gonna go do something for him he tries to protest saying he is fine but than starts coughing up a storm

spends the whole day with a pout on his face cause he doesn’t want you to waste your day taking care of him

sucks to be him tho cause you’ll do anything for mr. jay park!

i remember someone said that when jay is feeling ill, his emotions tend to exaggerate

like he’ll feel pain in his throat but will claim his entire body hurts and he cannot move a muscle... (it’s okay it’s just the sickness getting to him)

all he wants to do is cuddle next to you and sleep

like he’ll ask for massages or even random things like piece of cake from the bakery downstairs and you go do it cause your poor boy is feeling down and you wanna see him happy :((

pays you back by buying you new things and spending all that lost time doing anything you want to do (even if it means watching a movie he despises)

･:*:･ﾟ☆ jake

NAAAUUURRR i’m gonna cry just thinking about sick little jake

his eyes are wide and glossy the whole time and his lips are pursed out into a little pout

baby hates being sick cause then he can’t go out and do fun things with you!

DEMENDS cuddles and kisses.

like i think he’ll cry if you leave his side

even if it’s for his own benefit, he clings to you like a little koala

lowkey a little dramatic, acts like his dying

“baby i think this is my last day... pls tell layla i love her” and you’re like What About Me.

you pour him the liquid medicine on to a spoon and give it to him yourself

gets so giddy and smiles at you like a goof afterwards

you bring the back of your palm to his forehead and go “you’re so hot omg”,,, he proceeds to say “i know i am babe you don’t have to tell me twice 😏” BOOYYY

treats you like a little teddy bear and holds you super super close to his body!!

pays you back by taking care of you the later week when you’re sick

･:*:･ﾟ☆ sunghoon

the only one actually capable of taking care of himself 

he just seems very normal when he is sick 

like he can definitely be on his own 

lowkey doesn’t want you around so you dont get sick 

but you are very stubborn and you stay there to take care of him 

which he appreciates cause he likes being coddled a little bit hehe 

it honestly just feels like a regular, stay at home day with him aside from the fact he is violently coughs every 30 minuets next to you 

the only thing he wants from you is that you let him lay on your lap and you play with his hair 

which you do ofc and he is just simply so happy from that 

falls asleep in your lap cause its so therapeutic

“mmmm feel so nice honey” he slurs very sleepily 

nuzzles his face into your stomach, searching for warmth :((( 

you press little kisses around his face while he sleeps and he starts to blush but you can’t tell cause you think its just his face burning up from being sick (thank god it would’ve embarrassed him so bad if you found out it was from little kisses)    

brings you flowers and gives you endless amount of cuddles as his way to thank you :(( 

･:*:･ﾟ☆ sunoo

boyfriend or child you can’t tell #2

will WHINE SO LOUD if you try to leave his side 

“Y/NNNNN NOOOOO you can’t go~ its so cold~ im gonna freeze to death if you go~” “sunoo i need to get you medici-” “NOOOOOOO” 

REFUSES to take his medicine 

will turn his head the other way with a pout on his face and stubbornly shake his head 

you have to pursued him with food and kisses in order for him to actually take it��

takes the medicine but gags while taking it 

“wheres my cuddles huh 😐” 

so so so clingy :( he is pretty much on your entire lap with his head laid across your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your neck 

sunoo wouldn’t be very sleepy but he would be very quiet (which makes you sad cause youre sunny is always so talkative), so he spends this time listening to you and all the things you wanna talk about 

you guys watch movies together the whole day 

wants you to leave kisses on his cheeks cause it makes him feel better 

he pouts at you while you laugh at him when you feed him snacks 

buys you all the snacks you could dream of when he is feeling better <33 

･:*:･ﾟ☆ jungwon 

tries to convince you he is fine #2

but wakes you up in the middle of night cause he threw up :(( 

he gets teary eyed cause he doesn’t wanna burden you but at the same time it hurts so bad 

whimpers so much :(( 

he wants to be held so much, he is attached to you the entire time 

you wipe his face with cold towels to bring down his high body temperature down and push back his bangs with so much care and love 

“thank you y/n” he speaks so softly before letting out a huge sniffle 

jungwon falls in love with you so much more

like he didnt think he could but some how you have managed to make him fall in love with you again 

really likes it when you pet his head and massage his temples 

he clings to you so much that he just follows you around like a little puppy 

you guys watch romance movies together to distract him from the pain 

will never give you a hard time like if you ask him to sit up and drink his water or take his medicine he’ll do it right away no questions asked 

mainly cause he wants to get better quickly so he can spend more time with you doing more interesting things 

thanks you by taking on a cute little picnic date the week after :( 

･:*:･ﾟ☆ ni-ki

sleep. all he will do is sleep. 

he doesnt care about anything else except for that fact that he wants to sleep 

sprawls his entire body on top of yours 

he literally traps your body so you cant get out 

you have to physically push him off of you which isnt a problem cause he is in such a deep sleep 

and when he wakes up and you ARENT by his side, he gets very whiny 

“Y/NNNN why’d you leave me ☹️” 

very grumpy 

you laugh at this which makes him even more grumpy 

how cute 

ni-ki is honestly very frustrated that 1) he can’t go to practice and dance with his cheery personality and 2) he can’t kiss you!!!! (this is what is the most important to him) 

so he just whines all day 

whines when you tell him you have to take medicine 

whines when you try to get him to sit up and eat 

whines when you aren’t cuddling him 

so pls cuddle the poor boy <//3 

LOVES BACK RUBS 

your cool hand against his warm back makes him sigh out loud 

pays you back be giving you endless hugs, kisses and letting you win in games <//3 

#enhypenwriters #engene #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen oneshots #enhypen timestamps #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #lee heeseung #jay park #park jongseong #jake shim #shim jaeyun #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura ni-ki #nishimura riki #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop headcanons #kpop reactions #iland

[rafescoke]

Jealous ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Rafe finds himself being jealous over his friends with benefit flirting with a certain blonde boy

Warnings: Straight smut, angst, cursing, alcohol consumption, jealous Rafe

A/N: i am so sorry JJ for making you the second choice for almost every fic ever i still ly :( anyways thank you for 380+ followers wtf you guys are beyond amazing <3 here’s the smut you guys have been craving for:

“You’re handsome.”

“Oh yeah?” JJ smiled, showing her his pearly white teeth. “You’re not too bad, (Y/N).”

“Just not too bad?” She glowered, and leaned closer onto the blonde boy. He stared into her eyes, feeling her body heat now that she was too close to him, and he could smell her sweet scent. She reminded him of an ice cream during a hot day.

“Fine,” he huffed, and watched as her mouth morphed into a smile. “You look hot, (Y/N).”

“Thank you,” she giggled, placing a soft kiss against his cheeks as he laughed along with her, putting his arms around her.

(Y/N) never really had anything with JJ, being friends with him since god knows when, but she wasn’t cool with his other friends. He was there for her, and she was there for him, but they weren’t what people would call as best friends.

“Where’s the boyfriend?” JJ asked, a glint in his eyes. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at this, being done explaining to him that she’s not dating Rafe Cameron and will never be. They were the total opposite; he’s a kook, and she’s a pogue.

“JJ, I don’t know what to explain anymore,” she grunted, resting her back against the lawn chair as she watched the partygoers dancing to the booming music. “He is not my boyfriend.”

“You’re always out with him,” he shrugged, and (Y/N) gulped before she could answer him. After being Rafe’s friend with benefits for 5 months now, she didn’t think anyone would notice their relationship. They did everything in their power to keep themselves lowkey, but here JJ was; spilling everything.

“I won’t judge, you know,” he said, and gave her a sly smirk. “I get it if you like a kook.”

(Y/N) laughed nervously, and then proceeding to cup his face in her small hands. Her breath hitched at how adorable he looked in her hands, and she felt the urge to kiss his cheeks.

“I’m not even friends with him,” she rolled her eyes, and JJ swung his arms around her one more time, this time pulling her close. They stayed in silence for a few seconds before JJ pointed to a couple by the fire, saying a joke, and (Y/N) had laughed from the punchline.

She didn’t know it was the humour or the alcohol taking over after how many shots of vodka since the start of the party. Whatever it was, she truly enjoyed JJ’s presence; her childhood friend.

Rafe Cameron entered the party with a brunette girl he owed his father to bring, and he had never looked so miserable being in a party before. People looked at them as they made their entrance, and Rafe almost let out an annoyed groan knowing that people will talk about him and whatever the name of the girl was.

His eyes swept over the swarm of dancing bodies to look for a particular (H/C) haired girl, but she was nowhere to be seen. He sighed, continuing to walk to where they served the drinks.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Rafe,” the girl said, and Rafe nodded, not wanting to make any unnecessary conversation with her. He tried to negotiate with Ward, saying how the business will still go on without him having to take whoever this girl is to the party, but Ward had insisted him to do so, saying how he should think about making his family proud.

Rafe grunted, and his feet moved towards the backyard. He was glad the girl didn’t try to follow him after seeing her friends, and he didn’t think he would even talk to her if she did. He didn’t know what he want; he was just as confused as everyone else.

“You think so?”

His head perked up at the sound of her familiar voice, and Rafe found himself searching for her small figure. His eyes passed the couple making out by the fire, some pogue munching on a burger, someone preparing to jump into the pool and then -

Her. And JJ.

He crossed his arms, his eyes not leaving her as he watched her laughed again, her head tilting to one side. Every time Rafe would tell her a joke she would do the same thing, and Rafe felt a minor pang of hurt across his heart after knowing that she did the same with JJ as well.

“You know I would love to, J,” (Y/N) said, running her fingers through his blonde hair. “But your friends just don’t like me.”

“They do!” JJ insisted, “They just think you’re too intimidating. I don’t know what they’ll think about you if they know you’re with Rafe.”

Rafe raised his brows at the sound of his name, but before he could express a proper reaction, he heard her speak.

“JJ, enough with his name,” she groaned, “I don’t like Rafe, and I will never like him.”

Rafe almost laughed at this because god, who does she think she is? She was begging for him every time they did the ungodly activity, pulling his hair and leaving scratches behind his back. Rafe had to explain to Topper and Kelce how it was Sarah’s new kitten that had scratched him when they went out for surfing, and they didn’t even have any pets.

He listened intently again, getting more amused every second. Although he wanted to hear more of their conversation, he couldn’t deny the hurt coursing through his veins at the sound of her voice practically hating on him. He didn’t know if it was an act or if it was the truth, but he didn’t like anything about it.

“Then be with me,” JJ mumbled, and Rafe watched as she nervously laughed as if that was the funniest thing in the world. Rafe stayed quiet, wanting to hear her reply to that plea, and his heart was beating so fast.

“You’re cute,” she suddenly said, pressing a slow kiss against his cheeks again. “I’m so glad I have you in my life.”

Was that a yes? Or was that a no? Rafe cursed in his mind, not having a clue about the truth behind what she just said, and before he could process it further, the girl that he came here with tugged on his arms, catching his attention.

He clicked his tongue, “Yeah?”

“I want you to meet my friends,” she smiled, and proceeded to pull him to her group of friends who were waiting by the corner. Rafe tried to maintain his grim smile, trying to figure out how in the hell this girl did not notice the obvious signs that he was trying to show;

He was not interested.

“Here’s Rafe,” she exclaimed to her friends, and continued to introduce them to him. He smiled weakly at them, not really hearing their names, his mind wandering to a certain girl a distance away.

“Rafe?”

“Huh?” He looked at her again, “What is it?”

“They’re asking if you’re joining the truth or dare game in a few minutes,” she replied, and she had a look that wanted him to say yes.

“No,” he shrugged, and he watched as her shoulders slump. “But we can stay, I guess.”

She cheered, and Rafe used almost all of his energy not to mutter anything back, and followed her to the middle of the party where everyone started to gather for whatever middle school games they were planning to play.

He sat right next to hear, flicking his lighter on and off, not paying any attention towards his surrounding until she heard the familiar laugh again.

(Y/N) giggled at something JJ had said, walking towards the circle and sitting opposite of Rafe. They didn’t notice his presence, being too caught up with each other, and Rafe watched as she laughed again. He gritted his teeth.

“Who’s playing?” A voice suddenly spoke, and Rafe assumed him to be the host of the party. He thought of how the party sucks and he could hold a better party than this, but when she saw (Y/N) saying that she will be playing, he knew he had to be in the same game as her too.

“I’m playing,” he said, and watched as the people around him stared at him. (Y/N)’s eyes widened at the voice and she quickly looked at his direction, and he watched as she tried to contain her shocked expression.

“Okay, we have enough people playing,” the host said, “We’ll start with. . . John B, wanna choose first?”

“Yeah,” John B sat up straighter, looking around the circle until his eyes landed on his best friend. “JJ, truth or dare.”

JJ put on the smirk Rafe hates, “Easy. Truth.”

The crowd groaned and some booed, but JJ still had the smirk on his face, yelling to the crowd that he was just trying to calm everyone’s nerves.

“Okay,” John B rubbed his hands together, “Who would you like to fuck in this room?”

The room fell silent as their attentions were on JJ, and JJ laughed before replying the question.

“Seriously? I thought you’re going to ask for my bank account or something, not that I have money in it. But (Y/N). I’ll fuck (Y/N).”

Rafe found himself gritting his teeth, staring straight at the girl who was also staring back at him. She had a teasing smile on her face and Rafe had to stop himself from pulling her out of this goddamn party and into his car.

“I’ll go with (Y/N). Truth or dare?”

He watched her again, his heartbeat quickening.

“Dare,” she shrugged, and the crowd cheered, finally getting any actions they were craving since the start of the party. Rafe sat up straight, wanting to see to what extend she would do something, and he would be lying if he says he wasn’t nervous.

“I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

(Y/N) stood up from her seat, walking away from JJ and towards Rafe. He widened his eyes, not sure if she would actually do it or if she was messing with him, but she was clearly walking towards him and everyone knows it.

She leaned onto him and Rafe swore he could feel his heart stopping. He could smell her scent now; that goddamn cupcake smell he loves so much.

“You’re drooling,” she whispered, and turned on her heels.

She proceeded to return back to her position and kissed JJ with all of her heart and the crowd cheered, but Rafe was trying to calm himself down. He felt his anger rising, being humiliated just like that in front of everyone.

He stood up, ignoring the girl beside him’s questions and continued to walk upstairs, leaving the stupid game downstairs to smoke and probably snort some coke in his pocket. He didn’t know anyone here that much, being in a party outside of Kooksville and only knowing the pogues, but he’s not friends with them so he was totally alone in this case.

He entered a guest bedroom and proceeded to climb onto the bed, taking out his stash and unfolding a dollar from his back pocket.

“Hey.”

Rafe jumped to his feet, shocked to his core from the sudden voice, but he relaxed when he saw (Y/N), though he didn’t show it. He continued to separate the powder into lines, rubbing his nose a few times.

“Where’s the boyfriend?” He asked, sniffing and lowering his head to inhale the intoxicating substance. He threw his head back, feeling warm, and looked at her again.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, being questioned with “where’s the boyfriend?” almost two times now on the same night, and crossed her arms.

“You have no power to be mad at me, Rafe,” she said, and walked closer to him. He watched as she leaned onto him like she did downstairs a few minutes ago, “You’re not my fucking boyfriend, and you know it.”

Rafe laughed, his head getting woozy, but he couldn’t deny the amusement he was feeling at that time, and god he felt like doing the most filthiest things to her.

“And if I want to fuck JJ,” she continued, her face so close to him that her voice was just above a whisper, “Then I’m allowed to.”

“Oh yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, and he stared into her eyes with a smirk tugging on his lips. “You wanna fuck him? He can fuck you better than I can?”

Her breath hitched as he trailed his pointer along her soft cheeks from the temple, and he whispered again, this time with his face so close she could feel the heat from his breathing.

“I’m asking, baby, can he?”

One thing that (Y/N) hate was being challenged, and the look that Rafe gave her fit that exact meaning.

Before she could mutter anything else he attached their lips, moving so fast she didn’t have time to catch a breath. He pushed her over so her back was against the bed, her chest heaving, and Rafe had never looked prouder when he saw her in that state.

“Wanna be a bitch again?”

“Maybe,” she answered, with that twinkling in her eyes.

“Wrong answer,” he replied, and kissed her roughly again, hearing her moans and her fingers pulling on his already unkept hair, making them more messier. He groaned when he felt her biting on his lips, knowing that he would have to create a new lie to Topper and Kelce on why his lips are all bruised.

He pulled her apart again, this time with both of their chests heaving, and Rafe swore he had never looked at someone more beautiful than the girl before him. His eyes trailed down to her chest, seeing her breast all pushed up and her nipples hard against the cold air.

He licked his teeth, “No bra?”

“No-pe,” she giggled, emphasising on the ‘ope’. She inched closer to his ear, “Making it easy for you.”

“Thanks, baby,” he replied before kissing her fully on her lips again, and slowly going down to her core. He placed his wet kisses from her neck to her stomach and down to the aching heat as she arched her back from the tingling feeling, placing her palm against her mouth to silence herself.

He continued to place soft kisses on the outer side of her pussy, his member hardening when he could see the wet mark on her panties. He watched as she bit her lips, closing her eyes from just the kisses.

“Beg,” he whispered, and (Y/N) looked up from her laying position, feeling like dying at the slow reaction from him. She groaned, desperate for her release, and bit her lips.

“Please, Rafe,” she begged, withering as he ran his fingers along her thighs. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

Before she could prepare herself he dipped in, collecting her juices with hid tongue and flicking back and forth on her clit. She couldn’t contain her voice anymore, whimpering and moaning his name as he continued to please her, liking the way she was so submissive under his touch.

Just like putty.

“Oh my god, you’re amazing,” she gasped, gripping onto the sheets with her fingers. “I’m close, Rafe, oh my god.”

He chuckled against her core, sending vibrations throughout her body and causing her to yell from the overwhelming pleasure, gripping on the sheets even harder she could feel it coming undone from the mattress. She could feel the familiar euphoric feeling inside of her stomach and arched her back to reach it, until-

“Rafe!”

“Huh?” He looked up to her, innocently wiping his mouth with the back of his hands as he crawled back go her. He gave her a smile, “What’s wrong baby?”

“I was so close,” she answered, with tears in her eyes. Rafe tutted, using his thumb to wipe a tear that escaped, and proceeded to press the thumb on her clit, causing her to jerk upwards in shock.

“You’re okay, baby?”

“You’re a dick,” she answered, and jerked again as he pressed his thumb into her one more time. “The biggest dickhead I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah?” He raised his brow, and placed a soft kiss against her lips. “Should I go then?”

He made a move to go away and without any shame she pulled his by his wrist back, not letting go until he chuckled, placing himself before her again.

“Answer me one question,” he whispered, and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Me or JJ.”

“You.”

“Who?”

“You, Rafe.”

“Not my name,” he said in a sing-song voice, and proceeded to fake-yawn.

“You, daddy.”

He watched her with a smile on his face, leaning closer and pressing a kiss ok her cheeks one more time. “And will you be good to me?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Rafe was harder than ever, he could basically cum just by seeing her all worked up under him. His breathing was heavy, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck the girl before him.

“Okay, then,” he sighed, and before she could process anything he turned her over, exposing her ass to the air as the skirt she wore rode up to her waist, and (Y/N) felt a rush of cold against nipping on her skin.

She yelped as she felt his palm made contact with her cheeks, spreading his fingers and massaging them right after. He liked the colour of her skin now, all red, just because of him.

He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his boxers down, letting his member springing free and watched as his precum pooled on his tip, and quickly positioned himself before her.

“Please,” she begged, and that was enough for Rafe to push into her, closing his eyes and muttering a curse word while he felt her closing on him.

“Fuck, so good for me, baby,” he swore, fastening hid movements. The girl was practically screaming under him, and he had to place his hands against his mouth to keep her shut. He groaned, feeling the warm feeling inside him growing.

“Shut up, you bitch.”

She moaned at his words, taking a liking at the way he downgrades her since the first they had sex, and pulled on his hair as she tried to comprehend the euphoric feeling inside her.

“I’m close,” she warned, tugging on his back as he pushed into her, this time with a faster speed than before. “Fuck, I’m so close, baby-”

“Cum and I’ll fucking kill you,” he groaned, pushing himself into her that he ended up balls-deep, watching her scrunched up face trying to take his full length. He grunted, feeling his own end nearing, and getting ready to pull out.

“Fuck!” He yelled, aiming his penis at her face as he shot his load, and she could feel the hot leaks dripping off her face down to her neck. She didn’t reach her high, not wanting to disobey Rafe before, and she felt like crying her hardest.

“You’re crying now?” He laughed, cupping his face with his hands and watched as his cum dripped from her eyebrows down to her eyes, and he took the chance to clean them using his fingers before placing them before her eyes.

“Suck.”

“Fuck you,” she said, her eyes glassy.

“I said,” he leaned closer, placing his knee against her core and watched her jerked again, “Suck.”

She gritted her teeth and took his fingers into her mouth, tasting him and making lewd noises. Rafe watched her with his mouth slightly parted, his eyes a shade darker.

“You’ve been a good girl, princess,” he smiled, and made a move to hold her. She pushed his hands away and he laughed, “Tell me what do you want.”

“I want you to fuck off.”

“Really?”

She bit her lips, not wanting to answer his question. In truth, she wanted nothing but for him to fuck her like it was their last day on earth.

“You still want me to fuck off when I do-” he inserted a finger inside her and she grunted, “This?”

“Y-yeah,” she answered, biting her lips.

“Are you sure? Even when I do-” he inserted another finger, “This?”

“F-fuck, yeah,” she gripped the sheets, feeling the familiar feeing knotting in her stomach again for the third time.

“Really?” He sighed, and took his fingers out, pretending to wipe them on his shirt. “Guess I’ll go. Respect the lady, you know?”

“Fuck you,” she said, and Rafe chuckled when she took ahold of his fingers and inserting them into her by herself, arching herself at the feeing she’ve been craving since forever.

Rafe bit his lips, watching her guiding his fingers and he wished he had his phone with him so that he could record this moment and watch them over and over again.

“Close, baby?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, thrusting against his fingers. Rafe sucked in a breath, hearing her moans, and before he knew it she released himself against his fingers, screaming his name as she reached her high.

He laid himself beside her, staring at the ceiling as they tried to catch their breaths again. (Y/N) turned to look at him, and when he noticed she was looking at him he turned his head to her in the same way, so they were both staring at each other.

“You’re still an asshole.”

“I know.”

“And I hate you.”

“I know,” he smiled, and god, (Y/N) never had a stronger will to slap that stupid smile from his face.

“You love me though,” he suddenly said, and (Y/N) turned to look at him again.

“God, you’re full of yourself.”

“You just don’t want to accept the truth, (Y/L/N).”

“Whatever,” she got up, searching for her discarded panties and fixing her fallen top and skirt. She ran her fingers through her hair to disentangle them before making her way towards the door, only stopping to look at him before she could return to the booming music.

“See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

-

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[adoringhaikyuu]

when their teammate has a crush on you

characters: kageyama, kenma, oikawa, tanaka

warnings: nothing, just some pouty boys and possessiveness

notes: i stumbled upon @kageyuji​‘s take on this while i was writing! so i thought i might as well give them a shoutout! 

kageyama:

you already know this boy speaks up with no shame

and he will glare at anyone who gets in his way or on his nerves, especially when they do anything to you

so when hinata doesn’t even try to hide that he likes you, saying boldly “well why should i lie?” 

you could only imagine the rage that kageyama is feeling

he doesn’t even want you in the same room as hinata sjkdfghsdj

he will pick either you or hinata up and take you away, depending on the situation

or he’ll take hinata’s face in his hand and just throw him away

but the boy always bounces right back, somehow unharmed and you’re grateful for that 

but anyway it’s not that hinata is necessarily trying to break the two of you up, it’s more that he’s genuinely confused as to why you’re with kageyama

“how could you possibly like this bully? is there something wrong with you?” 

he got chased by kageyama immediately after saying that––

your eyes widened as you saw a flash of orange jump in front of you as you walked towards the gym, ready to meet kageyama to go home. “y/n! y/n! could you please throw some balls for us?! yachi had to go home but we really wanna practice some more!” 

you stepped back and your boyfriend came out of nowhere, practically smacking the other boy out of the air, leaving him to crouch on the ground, clutching the top of his head as he scowled at the dark-haired boy. “calm down you idiot! y/n doesn’t have to if they don’t want to! they’re probably tired anyway and just wanna go home.” he turned to you and gave you a small smile. “you wanna go?” 

you looked between the two. “i mean...i can help you guys practice for a little bit.”

the other boy sprung up again. “oh! thank you! thank you!” 

your boyfriend bowed his head quickly. “thank you.”

you smiled up at him and he felt his cheeks redden. “of course, tobio.” a smile spread on his face as well but it was short-lived as hinata spoke up, suddenly inches away from the two of you. 

“what’s up with your face? why do you look like that?” 

kageyama scowled down at him. “nothing’s wrong with my face! what’s wrong with your face?!” 

“why are you yelling at me?!” hinata turned to you, “he’s so mean! how are you with him?” he looked down and mumbled to himself, “i wouldn’t treat you like this...”

kageyama’s eyes widened with rage. “what was that?!” 

“n––nothing!” the smaller boy backed up, eyes wide with fear. 

“you know what? we’re leaving.” kageyama stormed into the gym and quickly got his things, ignoring hinata’s pleas.

“aw what? why?! come on kageyama!” he turned to you, “y/n please––”

suddenly you were facing your boyfriend’s back as he stood in front of you to glare at the other boy. “don’t even think about it. we’re done for today.” he turned to you and grabbed your hand, tightening his hold when you waved goodbye to a pouting hinata. 

when you were almost off the premises you looked up at kageyama. “you know you’re kinda hot when you’re jealous,” you smirked up at him and he stuttered in shock.

“what–i–you––”

you laughed and kissed the back of his hand softly, immediately giving him a nosebleed. you handed him a tissue which he gratefully took, glaring at you weakly. 

“you know i’m yours, right?” 

he swallowed and blinked a couple times before nodding once. 

“then you have nothing to worry about, okay?”

he started muttering to himself, the only words you could make out being “idiot” and “dumbass”. you placed your hands on his cheeks and he stopped and looked down at you, eyes wide. 

“okay, tobio?”

he nodded. “okay.” he paused. “but that doesn’t mean i’m going to be nicer to that idiot––”

you laughed. “yeah baby, i know.” 

kenma:

let’s say you’d been dating kenma for a while now, a little lowkey 

and everything is fine, everything is going really well

kenma likes it when you hang around the team, the team likes you

you’re like a part of the squad

and kenma’s feeling great about it 

until lev comes along––

kenma already doesn’t like this boy, he doesn’t even know how to hit a ball properly––

but when kenma notices the way the tall boy blatantly stares at you during practice, the way he always tries to butt into your conversations and show off to you...

kenma’s practically radiating angry chihuahua energy, the air around him red and he looks like he’s two seconds away from biting––

if lev interrupts your convo w him sometimes he’d just stare at the boy deadpanned and go back to his conversation with you, “anyway–”

or he’d take your hand and lead you away

or he’d literally just say “go away, lev.” and the poor boy would just pout and whine, “aww what? why?” 

one time lev tried to tag along on one of your dates and you had to step in front of kenma so he wouldn’t kick the boy in the shins or something

lev really wasn’t trying to do any harm, he was just a big lanky puppy who had a little crush on you

but still, kenma wasn’t having any of that

kuroo leaned on the wall next to where kenma was leaning against it, sipping his water during their ten minute break. he smirked down at his friend teasingly, “so what are you gonna do about your new competition?”

kenma wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, putting the bottle on the floor as he practically snarled. “shut up.”

“woah,” kuroo smiled, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “put your claws away, man. i’m just asking.” 

kenma simply grumbled in response, making his friend laugh.

“well you should think fast cause it looks like he’s getting real close to y/n right now––”

kenma’s head snapped up immediately and his jaw clenched when he took in the sight across the gym. lev was lying on the bench, practically half his body folded, his legs bent on the ground, his head on your lap, his eyes closed. 

kenma huffed and stomped over to you two, some of his other teammates jumping out of his way when they felt the almost deadly aura around him. he stopped right in front of you and you looked up at him.

he blinked. “why is lev on you?”

you shrugged, “he said his head was hurting and then just plopped his head in my lap.”

said boy finally opened his eyes and perked up, “oh hi kenma! my head’s been hurting from all this hard practice so i thought i’d rest a bit.”

your boyfriend’s eye twitched. “on y/n?” 

“yeah!” the boy smiled, somehow completely oblivious to the setter’s rage. “they’re real soft, you know––”

“yes.” kenma interrupted, blunt as ever. “i know.” 

noticing the increasing tension, you spoke up. “hey lev?” he looked at you happily. “your head’s feeling better now, right?” 

“well i guess so...”

“maybe you should go get some water and some fresh air then, yeah?”

he pouted, “but maybe i should stay for just a little longer–” kenma was about to pop a blood vessel. 

“trust me,” you guided him up gently. “this is what’s best for your health.”

as soon as he agreed and walked away from you, you looked up at your boyfriend with a smile on your face and pat your thighs. he eagerly took lev’s place and looked up at you with a furrow in his brows that you were quick to smooth out with your thumb, smiling when he visibly melted at your touch. you ran your fingers through his scalp to calm him down and he purred, leaning into your hands. 

“stupid lev...” he mumbled to himself and you laughed, leaning down to kiss his forehead, making him blush immediately.

“you have nothing to worry about, okay? i’m yours.”

he blinked, trying to calm his heartbeat, a small smile on his face. “good.” 

oikawa:

alright let’s switch things up a lil bit and mention someone i’ve personally like never seen mentioned in this scenario

let’s say mad dog likes you

oh boy

so at first oikawa thinks he’s seeing things

but once he notices how kyoutani opens the door for you, the way his eyes linger on you a little more when you come to practices or to the games, the way he gives you a small smile every now and then––

kyoutani doesn’t smile for anybody!!––

oikawa’s eyes narrow and he gets a bad feeling in his gut 

otherwise known as jealousy

now he knows you’d never leave him or anything like that, but the fact that you start getting closer to the walking time bomb and you become the only other person that he listens to besides iwaizumi––

oikawa doesn’t like that at all

he’d get all pouty and would literally drag you away from your conversations with the younger boy, almost whimpering when he glares and practically growls at him

“where is y/n-chan??” oikawa asked to no one in particular, his hands on his hips. 

kindaichi stopped and picked up one of the stray balls on the floor, “oh i saw y/n outside with kyoutani.”

“what?!” oikawa pracitcally shrieked, making the younger boy jump. he mumbled to himself, “i swear we need to get mad dog a collar with bells on it––” he stomped over to where the two of you were, a strained smile on his face as he noticed you laughing, kyoutani’s cheeks slightly pink.

“well what do we have here?” he said forceful but cheerful. 

you looked to your boyfriend with a smile and kyoutani simply glared at him, but then again, that was just his face. “oh we were just getting some fresh air. are you done practicing your serves?”

“i sure am.” he smiled, pulling you close to him by your waist and pressing an obnoxiously loud and wet kiss to your cheek which you immediately wiped off with a grimace, which he did not appreciate. “y/n-chan!” he whined, “that’s not very nice!” 

“well don’t make it so wet next time,” you rolled your eyes. 

noticing the other boy still hadn’t made a move to leave, your boyfriend spoke up. “shouldn’t you be leaving now, mad dog?”

you smacked his chest and he yelped. “don’t be so rude, tooru. he was keeping me company while you did your extra practice, you know.”  

he pouted and looked to the ground.

“i should be getting home, anyway.” the blond spoke up gruffly. his eyes softened almost imperceptibly as he looked at you. “see you, y/n.”

you smiled, “bye kyou.” 

“bye mad-dog!” your boyfriend practically sang, as he looked over his shoulder at the boy leaving. he turned back to you and you pursed your lips at his behavior, making his shoulders droop in shame. 

“you’re such a big baby, you know that?” although you insulted him, your voice was soft and he couldn’t help but smile at the way you cooed at him, your hands holding his cheeks. “but you’re my baby, okay? stop worrying so much about kyoutani.” 

he nodded. “okay...” his eyes widened hopefully, “can i get a kiss please?”

you smiled and shook your head, before leaning in. he really was a baby sometimes.  

tanaka:

you already know this boy is loud

and he likes to show off what’s his because he’s just so proud that you’re his and he loves to fawn over you

so he’ll always have a hand on you, an arm around you and he’ll always shower you in compliments whenever he sees you

a total simp

and that’s just in general

so when his friend likes you ??? bruh

let’s just say nishinoya thinks you’re kinda cute,,, okay really cute and his crush only (unwillingly) grew for you after you started dating tanaka and hanging out with them all the time

he’d be really excited whenever you were around, a pink tint covering his cheeks, a smile glued to his face

he’d try to show off during practice and games, looking to you after he lands a successful rolling thunder

and tanaka would be growling in the corner sdfghj

he’d literally try to one up his friend immediately and would scream to you in the stands “I LOVE YOU BABY THIS ONE IS FOR YOU!!”

after they win he’d pull you into a crushing hug and give you loud kisses all over your face 

he’d do the most and then he’d smile all smug making sure everyone including nishinoya saw 

you laughed as noya jumped several feet in the air to high five you after winning their game, a bright smile on his face. “did you see that last receive i did y/n? did you?” 

you nodded, laughing. “yes i did noya, it was really impressive.” 

his cheeks turned pink and he ducked his head, scratching the back of his head nervously as he waved you off. “ah it wasn’t all that...it was pretty good though, huh?” 

before you could respond, you saw a flash of movement in front of you before you were suddenly being hoisted into the air. you gasped and wrapped your arms and legs around your boyfriend, “ryu!––” 

“hey baby!” he practically yelled, smiling up at you and not so subtly walking away from his best friend with you in his arms. “did you see me hit that last spike? your man looked pretty good out there, huh? better than everyone else right?” 

daichi who was walking by the two of you quickly hit the back of tanaka’s head in warning, hearing his words. “watch it––”

tanaka turned his head, “uh i mean you looked great too captain! couldn’t have done this without you––”

“yeah yeah,” he walked away, rolling his eyes and you laughed yet again, grabbing your boyfriend’s attention. 

he looked up at you with wide eyes, squeezing his arms around you tighter and you smiled, putting your hand on his cheek. he nuzzled into your touch softly and you pressed a kiss to his lips, making him blush immediately. “of course i was watching you, and yes you looked very very good out there. i’m so proud of you.” 

he smiled wide but tried to act oblivious when you went on, “you know you kinda interrupted my conversation earlier with––”

“well anyway! i think we should get going now--” he spoke far too loud, walking faster from the gym, making you shake your head at his adorably possessive behavior. 

you leaned your head on his shoulder fondly, “you know you can be ridiculous sometimes ryu...”

he huffed quietly, “well you still love me right?”

you smiled. “always.” 

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu drabbles #tobio kageyama #tobio kageyama x reader #tobio kageyama fluff #tobio kageyama headcanon #tobio kageyama drabble #kenma #kenma x reader #kenma fluff #kenma headcanon #kenma drabble #oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa headcanon #oikawa drabble #tanaka #tanaka x reader #tanaka fluff #tanaka headcanon #tanaka drabble