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STRANGERS FROM HELL

Seo Moon-jo:

You're My Salvation: just a little one-shot of Moon-jo and his sadomasochism. It's kinda fluffy, but also really yandere-ish!

(Romance/Slight Angst/Yandere)

Atonement: Finding out what Moon-jo really does for a living.

(Romance/Yandere)

Overcompensate: Moon-Jo develops a sudden infatuation with Jongwoo's girlfriend.

(Romance/Yandere)

All I Need

NIGEL BANYAI X READER ⚠️ Warnings: None ⚠️

You're wandering the streets of Bucharest at night when you come face-to-face with your "ex" husband, Nigel. There's a rekindling- even if only for a moment- where you realize he might be more intertwined in your life than you'd thought.

Disconcertment washes over your face like a flood when you see him walking forwards, in that haunting but familiar walk you'd grown used to. He was polished, as per usual, adorned with a dog printed button down and a cigarette lax between his teeth. The protruding fold of his shirt would be incomprehensible to passerby who didn't know of his hobbies, but to you, it was the imprint of a gun.

His eyes shifting up from the road he was walking down and meeting yours held you in a trance. There was something to be studied about the man's eyes; so full of agonizing self-inflicted sorrow that shone through the very core of his being and simmered into the rest of the world through his gaze. He was deeply saddened. But it was all under a mask of his he wore to wind through the mindless crowds so that there wasn't anything about his character to be discovered unless he'd wanted you to. His cheekbones shone under the streetlights with their summery glow making waves of blues and pinks and greens with the lights from overhead in the city. He was a Monet painting come to life, a landscape of colors washing away everyone else and drawing you inwards to where he stood, finally stopping amidst a puddle from rain fallen this morning. He was beautiful. But he was also dangerous.

You had finally stopped running from him long ago. That sadness he contained within himself had become ever so apparent throughout your relationship and spilled over into everything else. He tormented himself so deeply that it was only a matter of time before he tormented you.

Never with his touch, no. His touch had always been careful, predetermined. He would never have laid a hand on you that wasn't accepting or invited by the warmth in your features and your verbal acknowledgement. Even after long arguments where you'd fallen asleep on your side of the bed, turned away from him, he would caress you only with his mind.

Instead, his torment was his love. There was too much of it, too little of a mutual understanding of what was wrong and what was right. He had been too suffocating in his eternal vows to protect you and love you. And with this time period in your life- this new one you'd created for yourself- you couldn't suppress your desires of freedom. You'd allowed him to love you and whisk you away with his promises (which he'd kept, of course), but you'd never been able to experience the world, let alone the streets of Bucharest in the way you'd always wanted to- on your own.

But you had loved him. There was no denying that.

And despite all your efforts to push him away; to ask him to take his love and give it to someone more deserving, someone who'd understand his suffocating requests of social isolation and relationship devotion, he was always finding his way back to you. His heart seemed to have a mind of its own which never coincided with the work he performed or the crimes he'd commit.

And here you were, by the famous Hostel off the side streets of tourist-populated areas, staring at one another. Both of you with the impression that the other was a work of art, staring into one another's souls as if they had painted the landscapes themselves. You heard the faint chatter of those nearby; the drunks walking back home from a night out, stumbling over their feet and laughing with their partners holding them up. The children who'd been playing hopscotch despite their parent's wishes at this hour in the night. The sound of the rain from earlier dripping off the rooftops and onto the parked cars below. And through all the commotion, it was just Nigel and you.

He offered something to you that most people would never see in their lifetime from a man like him. A smile.

You sent one back through slightly teary eyes, hoping for a minute he would look into you the way you were looking into him and that he would understand your internal dismay. You'd never loved like you loved him. Ever. And that would be true for the rest of your life. Your relationship had been an amalgamation of every emotion and he brought out sides of you that you'd never prepared yourself to confront. It was beautiful. It was bittersweet. And it was over.

He knew. He knew you'd wanted nothing more than your freedom, which was the one thing he didn't know how to give you. Not even now. He knew it was at the expense of your own happiness, but he couldn't help himself to follow you around Bucharest even if you hadn't caught him in the act of doing so, such as tonight. He wanted to be in your life anyway you would let him and even though the former was preferred, he was okay with learning how to live on the outskirts of your heart while you lived on the very insides of his.

He'd follow you around Bucharest and he'd follow you around the world.

You shifted in your jacket, despite the summer air. Your eyes had gone from his to the subway opening a couple yards away, where you'd initially been heading. There was your apartment waiting for you, where you'd have your own melancholic isolation. It was a hop skip and a jump away from the man who'd been your husband for all the years prior.

An image came into your head just then. One of a faraway place, tucked into the crevices of your mind so far back you'd almost forgotten its existence entirely. A cool night in your city where he'd gone on a walk with you, wearing the same jacket you had on now. You had chopped your hair and dyed it bright orange following the news of your father's death. It was just a silly coping mechanism to you, but Nigel had smiled when he'd walked into your shared apartment and saw the brightly colored hair littering the floor tiles. He'd suggested a walk to get some fresh air, under the rainbow colored lights you'd grown so fond of.

That night, you were looking at the snowflakes falling from above, threatening them with your tongue to catch them in your mouth and have them melt against your lips. They refracted against the colors in the sky, a light magenta touching the clouds as far as the eyes could see. Shimmery eyeshadow caught in the corners of your eyes, making them appear to be even more wet and filled with sorrow than they were. Nigel was here for you though, admiring the way you turned around in the snow, over and over again as if you were the little dancing figurine hidden in a jewelry box.

He'd held you close to him as you cried the eyeshadow in streaks of black down your face, the orange seeming less bright and the snow feeling more cold. You hadn't felt the totality of his admiration for you until this night, where his hug wasn't more than just that. Before his presence became a prison. He smiled at you, one of those toothy grins only he was capable of managing.

And then, he let go. This was the only time he'd done so on his own accord, almost leaving you fighting to be back in his embrace. He turned to the subway, then to you and back to the subway before leaning in with a kiss,

"urmează-mă și te voi săruta."

And then he went racing off into the night towards the never stopping trains ahead. Smiling, you ran after him. Eyes still wet with the tears for your father and hair still orange from the impulsive chop. The wind whipped through it, leaving you with a coldness on the back of your neck you weren't used to. It felt freeing, though. Your first taste of freedom. Running after him, you saw the water from the other side of town, touching the sky and creating more of the pinky-blue color that Bucharest was full of. The snow crunched under your feet as you placed one in front of the other before the soles of your shoes hit the concrete steps leading underground. Nigel was only a few meters away, sliding down the poles in his dog button down he favorited.

And then suddenly you came to a halt as you crashed into him, stopping the chase almost as soon as you'd started it, in the middle of the busy underground station. You'd lost your balance ever so slightly but he held you upright, not letting you fall.

And suddenly your eyes were on his. There was such a beautiful agony within them. There was far more to this man than you'd ever know and his love would have no bounds. He was soft in the way he stared at you, mouth pressed into a smile as he really took you in with everything you were. Nothing was lost in translation as you looked at him, his soul instantly filling your own. Everything was slowing down but the two of you, seemingly lost in time to the rest of the world with the passing trains and people.

"I will never stop looking for you." He whispered softly. voice suddenly laced with concern.

You were confused, looking up at the man you'd known you'd be with for infinity. "I'm right here?" You questioned, wondering what the significance of his words could mean, if they were laced with an underlying hidden message as concealed as the man's identity himself.

He smiled once more. "I will never stop looking for your kind of love." He corrected himself and you felt your insides go fuzzy with a warm and loving feeling.

You smiled from across the street, towards the same junction you'd run down the first time he'd proposed a nighttime walk. This could get you into a lot of trouble, to hint at the idea of a potential rekindling with the man known to be a criminal. The man who'd offered you nothing but love, even if there was a side of toxicity it'd been served with.

It was at that moment that you deeply felt the confines of your freedom without him- and it felt suffocating.

You both locked eyes once again, and he had a look on his features as though he'd been reminiscing about the same memory. It was impossible for him to truly still want something with you after all this time, wouldn't it be? You had pushed him away countless times, over and over. Whenever you'd seen him in public since the official ending of everything, you'd never spared him more of a glance.

Fuck it.

"urmează-mă și te voi săruta." You whispered under your breath, figuring the future would be in whether or not he could read your lips, if he would have remembered that time from so long ago, if he still wanted to be with you. A tear fell from your eye and cascaded down your cheek almost as silently as you'd spoken his phrase, "Find me, and I will kiss you."

Not even a second later, you both sprinted towards the subway.

Sunshine

(Dad!) JUNG HOSEOK X READER

Just a drabble.

The living room of your small apartment was a radiant summery orange as the sun poked its way up above the clouds. The long windows that looked down upon the cityscape below refracted said light, and prism colors started to dance around the room and bend against the many many picture frames of you and your family with Hoseok. A smiling boy and girl positioned between the two of you in a round frame was the focal point of the mantle piece; the rest of the house being full of sillier photos of the people you'd come to love so much.

Hoseok could be heard from the girl's room, a grumble of complaints coming from the doorframe. Your youngest always hated waking up this early to get ready for school. Hoseok had a way of going about it though, where he would bribe her with the delicious cereal bars so loved oh so much and would promise to make her bacon on Wednesdays since he didn't have to be into the office for another few hours. This was what reluctantly got her out of bed and had her sauntering towards the kitchen without paying attention to the time at all. He would put pigtails in her hair so the whole apartment would smell like the apple detangler that she loved so much. Once she got to school, however, she never wanted to leave. Unlike you, your daughter loved math and science and would spend all her recess time reading books about space under the branches of a nearby tree while the rest of the students played. Hoseok was quite proud to hear how studious she was when the two of you had gone for a parent-teacher conference a couple of weeks prior.

Your boy was now twelve, so he was usually able to get up on his own. He definitely developed his own fashion sense through stealing his parents' clothes, which you found to be quite adorable considering most kids that age usually just go to school in graphic tees. He has dreams of being a fashion designer, so the two of you had gone out and bought many sketchpads and designer books with the models preprinted onto the pages. It was important to both you and Hoseok that your children's interests were never taken for granted, and that you were able to provide support wherever that may be. So when your son came home with painted nails and drawings all over his arms, the two of you knew he would have his mother's creative and artsy side. You loved the varying differences in your children's personalities.

Hoseok then ran into the room holding up your daughter as though she were a fighter plane and made silly noises as he flew her about and into the kitchen, her giggles following shortly after. Your son hustled his way out of the hallway frantically trying to collect his schoolbooks while he rubbed at the eyeliner he put under his eyes. He gave you a look which read "uh can you help?" But with kindness and urgency, as your kids gave you and Hoseok the utmost respect.

It was times like these where you felt the strongest wave of emotion. Mornings with your family were never going to not be important to you; especially after not having that as a child. Suddenly you were back to the dining room from the farmhouse twenty years prior, sitting all alone in the dark and spoon-feeding yourself the stale cereal as you waited for the right time to wake up your siblings and tell them to get ready for the bus. There was a crack in the table, as there were many imperfections in the house, and you would rub your finger over the sharp edge which threatened to leave a mark if you pushed against it too roughly. The wallpaper was falling off the ceiling and you wondered if the house felt the same way you did; pretty on the outside, but deteriorating in regard to the parts the public never saw. It was a burning house and you were burning with it.

You vowed long ago to never let yourself set your new family on fire like your father had.

In a way, it was you rekindling the relationship you had with younger you; a parent sitting at the table with a child who'd presumed she'd been forgotten even though you weren't there physically. She would always feel like someone was watching over her, and you hoped she knew it was herself. You wished you could go back and tell her that the things her father said to her weren't true. That she was worthy of love. That she did belong somewhere. That she wasn't a failure. That she'll make it out of this situation alive and that she'd go through trial and error with people whom she'll love wholeheartedly but will never love her until she gets the family of her dreams with a man who's nothing like the one in her old household.

So when your son came up to you and said "mom, I really really love art," you knew your reply would always be "I'm so proud of you for your drawings, let's hang them up on the fridge" because the man in your house had forgetfully thrown them away amongst his other papers.

When your daughter said she was feeling lonesome, your first reaction would be to console her and tell her that there is so much life to live and there are some parts she'll have to face alone, but never fully. That she'll always kindle people's hearts with her kindness and her love for life, a contrast from the man who told you that it was because you were unlovable.

When your husband made your kids those sandwiches they loved so much and spent a long time cutting them up into stars just to see a smile on their faces, a part of that kindness went to the you who never got it. When your husband insisted on taking trips as a family somewhere where everyone would love and would spend an hour playing with the kids on the playground, the you from before found some happiness. When your son was jamming out to music, Hoseok would be the first to walk into the room and offer to dance with him. When your daughter got older and expressed her concerns with her weight, Hoseok would be the one to hold her and tell her she's beautiful regardless of physical appearance.

When your son goes through his first heartbreak, your husband would be the first to tell him about how he'll love a lot of people in his life and not all of them will be good, but he will be good because he is a lover. When your daughter has her first anxiety attack, your husband will be the first to make her tea and offer the chance to watch a movie which will eventually become her favorite because she associates it with a good memory.

Last night he took a lamp off the living room table and placed it in the middle of the floor. He moved the furniture around to make more space and then emptied out cans of paint into the roller container and painted the living room while dancing with his kids whom you both adored so much.

And when your kids go off to college, Hoseok will be the first one to cry and give a hug and try to convince them to go out to lunch one more time as a family just to spend every moment he has with them before he can't see them everyday. And your son/daughter will smile and say they can't because there's just oh so much to unpack and he'll understand and cry to the songs he remembers playing that night they all danced in the living room together and will set his phone wallpaper to a picture of them.

And even though the kids are still small and the years have yet to go by, there's not a day you regret loving and giving your heart to people. Because even though you gave it out to the wrong person a few times, there was never a time you would say you regretted it because the thing you know best about yourself is your capacity to love. Boundlessly and endlessly.

And Hoseok wasn't there for all of it, but he'd be there for the rest of it and that was good enough for you. Because in a way, he was always there. When you had those nights with your father where you couldn't walk into school the next day without falling asleep. Where home life got so rough you'd find yourself silently crying in the school bathroom. When looking at yourself in the mirror became too difficult of a task so you'd have to shower with the lights off. When everything was too much, but you envisioned having a family of your own one day and someone who'd love you the way you'd loved everyone else. And you got it.

And he was currently feeding your eight year old bacon and looking at you with the most adoration you've ever seen a human being muster.

For once, everything was okay.

Bones And All

Lee:

Passenger: Lee would follow you to the ends of the earth. A night he thought he was showing you just how much he loves you has to be reevaluated when he understands the pain you've been put through in the past.

(Romance/Smut/Fluff)

B T S

Jeon Jungkook:

Roses: Jungkook didn't mean to hurt you but now he finds out it's too late to get you back. Just a small oneshot!

(Romance/Angst)

Min Yoongi:

Wandering Eyes: Frat au with all of the guys but your heart seems to belong to one unsuspecting frat boy in particular.

(Romance/Very slight angst?/Fluffy)

Jung Hoseok:

Sunshine: A morning spent with your family.

All Members:

Headcannon #1: In which you must open up to your boyfriend about the hippity dippity and he's not very helpful

(Romance/ABSOLUTE CRACK)

HYUNJIN CALLIN FELIX STUPID KID LMAOOOO WHAT

a dilf is not a dilf if he’s shitty to his children

Sunflowers and Sunsets

TASM! Peter Parker X Reader

Just a quick little one-shot with the reader and Peter experiencing some fluff

"I'm here, Darling."

The tapping in the frame of the open window to your small New York City apartment caught your attention as you turned to the person in question. His voice had been extremely soft, as it usually was, and it has made your bones melt into the equivalent of butter. After a long and stressful day Peter Parker was the one person who could dig you out of the hole of negativity you so often found yourself residing in.

His tousled brown hair was a mess (courtesy of the wind) and although his face had been bandaged from his recent fight with OSCORP, he had a determined grin on his face. His features were that of a statue with how expressively lovely his smile lines creased into his skin and framed the lips that were even softer than his voice. His denim jeans and dark grey shirt as well as green overcoat added to the highschool boyish figure that you had come to be so familiar with in the past couple of months.

"Peter." You said, watching him climb in through the window and into your 70's modeled yellow kitchen. It wasn't quite night, no. It was still a bit sunny as the star went down and casted even more of that yellowy glow that you loved so much. It was so warm and inviting, almost like being enveloped into the largest hug. The only person that was able to radiate the same feeling was Peter, who looked very proud of himself for obtaining the paper bag stuffed into his coat.

With a short but loving embrace, you quickly turn your attention to what your boyfriend was holding in his hands.

"What's that?" You ask with a knowing smile, wondering how on earth you could've ended up with someone as perfect and caring as him.

"You know what it is, love." He smiled down at you and held your waist in his arms, pulling away slightly to withdraw the treat. Not fully leaving your frame, his touch sent positive shivers down your spine. He felt too perfect to be real. Too perfect to understand the harsh concepts of reality that of which he knew all too well due to being a superhero. Vigilante. There were a plethora of names for his line of work.

You watched the golden beams of light fracture in beautiful streams across his already glowing face. The dust particles that only became known due to the lighting were moving in spirals all over and glittering as they landed around your feet. His hair was so many magnificent shades of brown and your eyes hyper focused on every single strand that flew out of place, something that Peter always had regardless of his attempts at trying to be kempt.

"The snickerdoodle cookies." You said, seeming to be gasping for air as Peter's raw and beautiful presence was so entrancing; you found yourself lost in his brown eyes quite often.

The spicy but sweet scent of your favorite delectable filled your senses and you immediately felt at peace. At home. Such a wonderful sight before you and all around you. Love everywhere, not just with Peter but with the picture frames that showed the two of you. The flowers on the kitchen counter that he had picked up for you on one of his late-night swings. The color surrounding everything and leaving a warm feeling in the pot of your stomach; a feeling of absolute contempt.

You could live this way forever, you thought. And eventually, the two of you would.

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

Shoot your shot babe

Together Forever

Paring: Tate Langdon X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: Swearing, mentions of a corpse, yandere behaviors on Tate's part, angst, threats made against people ⚠️

"You died crying. I held you. You were safe. You died loved."

Tate held you while your shoulders shook from sobbing. You had just caught a glimpse of the body that laid in the basement; limbs contorted and bent out of shape. It's mouth gaping open and eyes rolled into the back of it's head; maggots and worms crawling in and out of it's ears. The sight was entirely gruesome and you felt the sudden urge to vomit. That couldn't be you. There's no way that was you. You couldn't have overdosed on those pills you only took a couple!

Suddenly Tate's arms felt heavy and intrusive. They felt as though they were holding you down to the spot, forcing you to look at the sight below. Yes, that was it. It was Tate's fault since he was the one who dragged you down here!

You pushed Tate off of you and made a run for the stairs. He stayed for just a moment before he went after you shouting your name. You ignored him and turned the corner from the kitchen to the foyer without so much as giving him a second look. You tried to make it to your room but saw that Tate was blocking your way.

"(Y/N). Please, baby. Talk to me." He slowly tried to approach you, his hand out towards you like you were some wild animal.

"Stay the hell away from me! You're a psycho!"

Tate felt his heart jerk in his chest. He was used to people calling him crazy but the last person he expected it from was you. Sweet and innocent you that held his hand when you walked around the beach. Sweet and innocent you that played with his hair while he slept on your chest. Sweet and innocent you that just called him a psycho.

"(Y/N). I know you love me. Stop acting like you don't."

"You're crazy! I should've listened to them! You fucking killed me!" You took some steps back, tears running down your face and your hand twitching at your side in panic. This was the worst anxiety attack you've ever had and the person who you usually found comfort with in times like these was currently your reason for having one. God, you should've listened when everyone said he was bad news. But you were blinded with love at the time.

"(Y/N). I would never kill you. I held you as you died. I told you how much I loved you in your last moments and I was the last thing you saw. You overdosed on those pills to stay here with me. I know you did. Why else would you do it? You're not suicidal." Tate started to get angrier with every passing minute. You weren't used to being the source of his anger and after only seeing him as quiet and reserved, needless to say, you were terrified. Terrified of what he was capable of. Terrified of what you knew he was capable of.

You had to think of something to crush him. Something to get him to leave you alone forever. You hated what he did to you. You hated the person he brought out in you. Why did things have to end up this way?

"You don't love me. If you loved me you wouldn't let me die."

Tate's eyes went dark. "What the fuck did you just say?" He yelled and the lights flickered on and off; the lampshades shook and the furniture moved away from where you two were standing. You had never seen this side of your boyfriend before.

"Stop acting like you care! Go away Tate! Go away!"

"You're all I want! You're all I have!" His hands clenched at his sides and his hair stuck to his face. He wasn't going down without a fight. You didn't want him to leave you! Why would you want him to leave you? No one has ever loved you like he has. No one would die for you like him. No one would kill for you like him.

You tried to run for your room again but Tate caught you in his arms and held you there despite your struggling. After a couple minutes of squirming around you fell limp into his side. There was no way of getting out of this. You were damned to this house now. Your parents would never be able to leave. You were stuck.

"Just give up now!" Tate pulled you in closer so he could stop your movements entirely and hold you to his chest. "Baby, please just give up."

You stopped and you let him embrace you. What was the point anyways? He would just find you again. He wouldn't let you leave now that you were with him. You belonged to him in his eyes and that wouldn't change; dead or alive.

"You were the one who took the pills, (Y/N). That was all you. But now we'll be together forever."

Another tear rolled down your cheek.

"The way it was always supposed to be, love."

The two of you sat on the floor in the middle of the room; one of you excited for the future and the other wishing they could die again.