#but hell if it didn't keep me sane to just sink my teeth into a problem (crookedly grown branches) and find a way to fix it (climbing..)

[loumauve]

a very short list of things I'm gonna miss about work:

that's it. the climbing (that was against safety protocols but we didn't have a ladder and the tree was growing crooked af and I felt bad for it)

[deepseavibez]

Fall Pronto_1 || JHS

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-> Picture Source - Pinterest

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Fall Pronto [Hoseok x Reader]

Part 1 || Part 2

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Genre - Smut; 21+; Best Friends Brother

Summary - Hoseok was quiet. He focused on work and stayed out of the way. He was calm and collected. He was patient. He didn't even dispute your food choices. What a man. It made sense that he stayed over while he visited the city for business;you had the space and it would only be a few days. There was nothing complicated about a short visit, of course not, after all, he was only your best friend's brother. Right?

🎶 - Waves - KANG DANIEL (feat. Simon Dominic & Jamie

Warning - 21+!Only; Smut; Vulgarity;

Word Count - 2.1k

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It was late, a bit after two in the morning according to your bedside clock as you squinted to look at it properly. Your throat dry and skin itchy from the humid weather, you threw the covers off and stepped onto the wooden floors.

As you walked down the hall, a glance at the room next to you, the door wide open and bed untouched confirmed your roommate hadn't returned for the night.

Shaking your head absently, you decided to call her when you got back in your room. She worked too hard, too late, and she was too in love with her job.

But then, Seri was one of the lucky ones that way. Her family was well off, her job was perfect for her and she was beautiful.

You would be salty about it, but Seri was wonderful. A kind heart, caring and she was one of your best friends.

You sighed, a smile crossing your face at the thought of one of the most important people in your life.

Barefoot, in purple cotton shorts and a shirt, you walked to the kitchen. Delirious and tired, you navigated yourself through the dimly lit house, purely by muscle memory.

Yawning, you reflexively covered your mouth with your hand as you passed through the lounge and into the kitchen, illuminated by the moonlight shining through the window above the sink.

Opening the fridge, you scrunched your nose as you found nothing to your liking, so you grabbed a cup from the overhead drawer, and filled it in the ice water dispenser.

Humming at the coolness of it against your hand, and placing it against your lips, you were just about to drink as you turned around, only to let out a ear piercing shriek.

Cup forgotten, you clutched at your heart as you identified the familiar face and struggled to compose yourself.

The cup of water and its contents on the floor in pieces, you stared up at the face of the man that plagued your mind and caused you sleepless nights.

Jung Hoseok was absolutely handsome. A diamond shaped face, brown eyes and a jawline created to stand out he haunted your every sane thought. And considering the circumstances his presence did nothing to calm your fast beating heart.

Now dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts, his clear smooth skin, lean tummy and muscles drew your attention. You gulped audibly, trying to be as discreet as possible about his affect on you.

Would it be too much to hope my reaction could be passed as being chicken shit for the dark.

You thought it would be okay to have Hobi over, after all his sister was your roommate and he was only crashing for a week or two. But the days proved to already be too much.

You were antsy and you weren't used to being so flustered. Being single and having no sex for almost a year now, didn't help. You didn't want to feel so drawn to him, but it happened gradually and yet, all at once. Like a fine wine aging to potency.

His presence, was a stark thing. Within the hour of meeting him, your body hummed in awareness of the man, butterflies fluttered through you when you made eye contact with him and if it was even possible, the heat always kicked up a notch when he was around.

Hoseok saved his smile. For his sister. For a good plate of food. For his best friend, Yoongi. Other than that he made head nods a common acknowledgement for you.

Initially you just had an uncomfortable vibe with Hoseok around, which was fair. He was a stranger in your home and in your personal space, of course you felt uncomfortable. But you knew yourself, it was not just about leaning away when he leaned forward, or not making any skin contact with him through effort, you noticed that once it did happen, you wanted it way too much.

You can remember all too well, as you walked out of your room less than a day ago, and straight into something solid and warm. His hands caught at your arms as he looked you over and steadied you. The slight touch sent tingles across you, wanting to lean into his scent, his cologne, the expanse of him already too large in front of your 5'2 frame. You jumped back as if burned and mumbled an apology as you scurried away.

He said nothing to you. Didn't push you or anyone else, you had probably never met someone so set in their standard way of life and yet meeting middle ground with others.

As far as you knew the work habits ran in the family, because he always had his laptop open, one hand on it while he spoke on his Bluetooth and texted with the other. Direct and blunt, his voice carried over commands as if disobedience was never invited to the party.

His rolled up shirt sleeves and the Audemars Piguet watch on his hand, as you walked in on the scene almost had you closing your eyes asking for help from the universe. Because those forearms, curled around you, near you, those hands on you, those fingers in you... the cold shower you had did nothing for you that evening.

Now as he stared at the broken pieces on the floor and your clearly shaken form, you cursed yourself for actually forgetting he was under the same roof as you.

Blinking rapidly, you hissed at him. 'You freaking scared me!'

This man, he didn't deserve your tone, or the disrespect, but he triggered ferity in you on a level so intense you stayed as far away from your apartment as possible while he was around. It was all you could do to protect yourself.

'I happen to live here too,' he looked at you with irritation.

At least that reaction helped; irritation deserved irritation.

Deciding you shouldn't make a snide remark about how long he would be staying, you turned your attention away from him to the floor. Moving your hair aside, you looked down at your bare feet, hunting a way out of the sea of glass that could much likely hurt like a bitch if you stepped on it.

A short look, confirmed that Hoseok wasn't fine either, his feet were bare too.

So engrossed, with your dilemma you didn't notice, Hoseok huff in impatience and reach for you.

You yelped as a pair of strong arms, grabbed you under your thighs, hands flailing as you caught at his shoulders. Even in your shocked state you reveled at the feel of his muscles under your palm, and it took a portion of self control you didn't think you had not to grip into them with your nails and run your hands across the smooth expanse of his skin.

Your legs instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist, the action putting your center's together, the ravaging demand to rock your hips into his was leashed in before you could carry it through.

'What the hell are you doing!' The panic in you could be heard through your cold voice.

'Are you fucking kidding me? You're barefoot! Do you want to get cut?' You brushed aside his concern. You had to. The odds already too stacked against you.

'You're also barefoot,' pointing it out by looking down.

He ignored you. You stared at him waiting for some sort of explanation. He averted your eyes and didn't give one, so you took it upon yourself to try and get out of his grip.

'Can you stop? I'm trying to help you!' he said gruffly as you wiggled.

You huffed, and pushed harder at him, but he had a strong grip. 'I can take care of myself.'

You needed space. You needed to be away from him.

Something wild in you reared it's head but you pushed it aside. Baring it's teeth, you knew all too well you wanted this man and you hated it.

He moved his hands from your waist, and tightened it on your ass, adding more pressure to your center. You only now noticed he was hard. Very hard.

You held back a moan at the realization, but couldn't stop the breath leaving your body as you made eye contact with him.

Stilling yourself, hunting for a thread of calm, you cleared your throat and swallowed through the harsh lump formed in it.

Looking away you frantically searched for the next logical step in the situation. You felt your demeanor tearing itself apart, ice cracking into pieces.

Close to tears at wanting something you shouldn't and the frustration of the situation adding onto it, you whispered softly, 'Please put me down... away from the glass.' You sounded breathless, and you hated it, but assertive all the same.

Surprisingly, he listened. He managed to evade the glass as he walked you over to the island across the kitchen and placed you on it. Letting go off him you looked down, if he'd stepped wrong his expression didn't indicate it. So you swallowed your concern.

'Thank you.' You dragged it through clenched teeth. You evaded eye contact as you said it. Your blood was raging. Your skin too sensitive, too soft.

His hands finally leaving you made you feel empty, but at least you were safer, more from yourself than him.

You waited.

He just needed to move away from you and get out from the space between your legs, then you could get your shoes and clean up this mess.

He didn't.

You looked up at him again, an annoyed, questioning expression on your face.

'I want to know what's your problem with me.' Slightly taken aback at the direct question, you managed to keep yourself composed. Hobi never smiled around you, you didn't even think you were allowed to think of him as Hobi either. He reserved that right for his friends. But that was fine, you never intended to be his friend. He needed to leave as soon as possible. Sunday couldn't come fast enough.

'Move,' you bit out, wanting to crawl out of your skin with the need to sink your teeth on the firm muscle of the man in front of you. 'I need to clean up.'

He leaned in closer, hands on either side of you, caging you in. 'You're pissy with me. You have been since I got here.' His breath fanned your face, you tried evening yours. 'And you don't get out of this position until I know why.' His tone was quiet, but molded in steel, that of a man who had clearly reached his limit.

And so had you.

'Fawning over you is not a requirement Hoseok,' you managed with a smile and a tone so sweet, it drew blood.

'Someone should bite you... hard.' he responded gruffly. 'Then maybe you'd loosen up a little bit.'

You clenched at the near snarl, his tone doing all sorts of things to your body. Especially making the pooling between your thighs more noticeable.

Your nails dug into your skin, as you felt his breathe on your lips. 'It's not like you've been very forthcoming since you've got here.' Nerves far too close to the surface, you needed out or you really wouldn't be able to keep that part of you under wraps.

'Oh hell no!' His eyes slammed into yours. It was the first time you'd heard him come remotely close to raising his voice. 'Don't you dare pin this on me.'

'You took one look at me and decided you couldn't stand me, and I want to know why.'

You breathed in, an attempt to calm your beating heart.

'Look,' you started, 'I'm an asshole generally.'

'That's bullshit and you know it! I've seen you with others. Especially my sister.' His anger was a palpable thing. A blade with a serrated edge would have been less dangerous.

Patience wearing thin, you snapped, 'Get out of my face Hoseok!' You pushed at his chest.

'Are you sure I should?' He leaned in further, restraint evident he continued, 'You probably swipe at me because you can't have me close enough!'

You inhaled sharply.

His eyes widened in shock, as he pulled back. His mouth fell open at your reaction, a resounding, 'Fuck,' leaving his lips.

Part 1 || Part 2

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[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Feral Fatality

(Part 3)

Last update for now! I hit a wall and so...I need to shift direction, make way for my requests (up til now I merely wrote one word) so gonna forget this one for the time being and push this deep under every article I have in the works—

Anyways, some fluff before I disappear *insert peace out and fade meme*

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Nothing extreme, a little blood only.

—

The masked killer gave you one shook of his head before he took off.

Saving you... for last?

Why weren't you afraid? Hell, you are going insane.

You looked down at the corpse under you. Time to clean up the mess, no one would want a rotting bitch on their doorstep.

Standing up, you decided to drag the body into the woods, maybe an animal would be happy to eat her flesh.

Huh, you were taking everything so well.

-

After you left her body a good distance away from your cabin, you went back to wash up, the red liquid on your skin was beginning to itch. You took off your clothing, the blood on your them was hopefully still removable, you wouldn't want to throw them away if you can help it.

Your thoughts strayed to that of earlier. You killed someone. You killed Betty.

And it felt good. Euphoric, even.

You never thought you could end someone's life, one of many that wanted you dead too.

"It was self-defense..." you assured. They intended to kill you anyway, the food they served for you was possibly poisoned. Even a fool would notice how suspicious they acted.

Not to mention Eloiza declared it straight to my face.

Then again, she would still die with the murderer out for her blood, it's just that I ended her myself.

Everyone's probably dead by now.

You stared at your hands– your palms, swollen from gripping your murder weapon.

"...Jason Voorhees. I wonder if he'll kill me too..."

You trailed off as your head drooped, your previous high fading out as your limbs felt heavy. Wobbling your way to your bed, gravity did its thing and you fell on the soft sheets and blacked out, the distant ringing of screams but a mere lullaby to you.

—

The ever-rising sun warmed your slumbering form as its rays peeked through the gaps of the window, stirring you into consciousness.

You groaned, rolling away from the prickles of their heat, wanting to get more sleep from last night's events...

Last night?

You shot up, rubbing your grogginess away as the thoughts of the past evening came rushing in. You couldn't believe it. Or did you? Did you really do it?

Was it all a dream??

You brought your hand to your right cheek, the action so sudden that you smacked yourself, instantly regretting it when you felt like you've just planted your face on nails.

"God fucking—" You clenched your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut, muffling your scream. Little tears threatened to pour out so you looked up to keep them in. When the pain numbed down, you exhaled and panted hoarsely.

Well, damn me if it was a dream, that fucking hurt!

A gurgling noise.

Right, I didn't eat anything for dinner.

You sighed, time to take care of your business before anything else! You could eat a whole stallion with the way your stomach grumbled. You stood up and plodded to the cupboards where you kept your food. Unfortunately, you didn't have a horse at hand, and you doubt you could even kill such a beautiful animal, so some easy-to-open corned beef would have to do. Maybe two-three cans would sate your hunger.

Knock, knock.

"Yeah, yeah, wait a bit, I'm opening dinner... breakfast. Dinkfast or breakner? Mm." You responded nonchalantly, still lethargic from both the pain and exhaustion. You pulled on the ring of the can. And it resisted like a lil shit. Three more tries and it didn't budge. You slammed it down the table, huffing.

Easy-open my ass!

Knock, knock.

Yeah, right, the door. You moved to grab the knob and whipped it open. Your face met with a broad chest, a bluish, dark gray shirt stained with what looked like dried blood and dirt. Slowly trailing up, you froze as you met two blue orbs staring down at you from behind a hockey mask. Your jaw dropped.

The silence dragged on for who knows how long before you broke away and fumbled. Absolutely lost, you did what a totally sane person would do.

You stepped aside and invited him in.

"I, uh, come in then, Mr...Voorhees." You uttered, your eyes unblinking as you looked anywhere than at the killer who took careful steps into the cabin.

——

Jason trudged to the cabin you resided few hours after he finished cleaning up the mess. Ten meters away and muffled words followed by a silent scream reached his ears. Five large strides and he was at your doorstep, coming to a halt and contemplating on barging in and scaring you even more, or knocking.

Knocking seems to be the calmer option, although he was concerned if you were hurt again. He doesn't know why he's feeling such...emotions towards you, technically a trespasser but different...

A minute passed before he knocked, twice. You answered something about eating and made-up words. He knocked again after he heard you slam something down and huff. Before he knew it you opened your door and stared. You were a lot shorter up close, craning your neck up to meet him.

You looked at each other for a while, before you moved out of the way to let him in. Even going as far as calling him Mr. Voorhees, which baffled him. So you knew who he was. If so, why didn't you leave or scream at him? That and a bunch of questions ran around his head.

He needs answers.

——

You stood to his left, facing his side as you felt awkward. You were in a room with a mass murderer, a legend. What's more, you were the one who let him in. You pinched the sleeve of your navy blue jacket from behind as you rocked on your feet. Was he here to end your life? No, no wait, if he wanted that he could have done it when you were asleep. You're pretty sure he could break down the door and crush you with it and you would never wake up again. Same as just now but he...he knocked? What will you even do if he decides to carry out the task now? You were, by no means, fit to fight back. You can't even open a fucking easy-open can! He could snap you like a twig any second now.

You waited, resigning to your fate and wishing you were reincarnated as a rock in your next life.

"..."

Well, nothing happened. He just stood there, unmoving as he faced the opposite wall.

A grumble and he whipped his head to you, making you flinch. Curse your stomach for being such a whiny shit. But you couldn't resist your hunger anymore, you need to eat. Moving a step at a time around him, you took hold of the can and pulled, swearing when it didn't budge. You were gonna die at this rate, if not by the killer behind you then by fucking starvation.

You felt a finger poke your shoulder, not even a flinch as you were too frustrated to care at the moment. You turned around to face the man, he was looking at the can you were holding.

"Oh, uh, I haven't eaten anything? The damn can just won't let me have what's inside." Since when did you talk this much?

He gestured, his gloved palm exposed, as if waiting for you to give him the can.

You placed it in his hand. With one tug, ONE TUG, of his finger it opened. It looked like he just touched it and the lid gave away. You huffed in disbelief as he handed it over to you with two fingers. You grabbed a spoon from the drawer and started wolfing down the contents. If you were gonna die might as well be full.

When it was empty, you glanced at the other can on the table, untouched. You looked back and forth a couple of times between the man and at it. You guessed he understood since he silently picked up the can and opened it for you. The corned beef ended in your stomach seconds later.

You set the last can down, only to pick them all up and dumped them inside a garbage bag you set up yesterday. Grabbing your tumbler from beside the sink, you took large sips from it.

Wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your hoodie, you walked past him and went to sit on the bed. He followed you. You stared at the one who murdered everybody else, standing in the middle of the cabin.

"..."

"So...Am I supposed to die now?" you asked. You sneaked a glance at the machete in his holster.

He didn't give you any response, but he stepped closer until he was in front of you. You didn't look up.

The man raised his hand, and you shut your eyes, expecting the worst— only hoping it was painless and quick.

You almost jerked when you felt his hand on your head.

But what surprised you was how gentle it was, no pressure at all, not even close to a killing move. Then you realized...

He's...he's patting my head.

His hand...wasn't cold nor warm, but the way he did it was akin to petting a little animal; stroking the top of your head so softly you sniffled. This made him stop and step away from you, his hands waving— hovering around you it was practically comical.

"N-No, I'm alright," you answered his silent question. "It's just...I've never been patted like that before and I...It was nice."

You've been subjected to abuse and degradation most of your life that a gesture, one that meant no harm or malice, made you cry. You wiped away the wetness of your eyes before you looked at him.

"Thank you, Mr. Voorhees. I actually wouldn't mind if you kill me, but I guess you won't...?"

He gave you a soft grunt in reply, and you giggled.

The man patted your head once more, before he made his way out of the cabin, closing the door quietly behind him.

You let out a quiet breath. Jason Voorhees simply appeared on your doorstep, helped you with your food, patted your head, and walked out without a word.

It's crazy and it wasn't a dream— if the throbbing on your cheek was any indication.

You're happy though. More than happy to be alive.

[thirst-order-confession]

Ok but what about reader comforting crime boss Kylo after he comes back from a long job away from home? Readers just happy he's alive and Kylo is beyond grateful he has someone to come home to who knows who he really is but loves him still

the boy loves you so much he just doesn’t know what to do with all his feelings! Seriously! You just being there helps a ton! So I’m not sure if this is what you were looking for soo I hope it’s ok! His once intimidating frame seems to deflate as it passes through the door. Sinking lower and lower until it looks as if it’ll give way under the weight of the world or rather the spots he’s darkened through poor or selfish decisions. “If I don’t someone else will he” kylo repeated over and over again in his mind; a never failing mantra or an excuse? Even he doesn’t know at this point. It was just better than the places his mind would go when left alone. The rain clung heavily to him, washing away the little speck of blood that made incomprehensible patterns on his long neck. He was surgical in his precision, almost an artist if his knights were asked but, something snapped tonight. Rage boiling over consuming everything in it’s path with a single fowl swoop. His hands were stained not for the first time or the last, not even the typhoon like weather he drove home in could cleanse him of that.

The thoughts kept spinning around in his head; how the night went, what he could of done differently. He could have been better he could always be better; isn’t that what snoke would say? He left him all of this, left him this way. Hands balled and skin taught to the point of whiting around his knuckles. The skin ruined, blossoming a painful red that had stopped bleeding long ago. He’s treat them; interest long gone from his own well being or comfort. He just had to calm down, he made it, he was home. But the cold air of the well lived in kicken did little to deter the dark thoughts that were miles away focused on unseeing eyes and splatters of deep red seeping into the floor like spilled ink.

Kylo doesn’t even bother to shut the door gently as he normally does, though he at least had enough mind to sneak in through the kitchen rather than the squeaking front door. His one track mind is set on easing his body down on the bar stool adjacent to the happy breakfast island. Melting into the worn upholstery of the well loved seat. Sleepy honey colored eyes dance along the papers thrown about, no doubt (y/n)’s doing. A small smile graced his features as he looked at the messy half print, half cursive, scrawl. Transfixed by the small hint that you were in fact real; that he hadn’t made you up during some drunken stupor or adrenaline high.

“Kylo?” The voice was soft, swaddled in a warm sort of tired that could only be associated with just waking up. “Hey beautiful. Sorry I didn't’ mean to wake you”. He graveled out, swallowing quickly as he shot up, sitting stalk straight. Resembling more of an animal on high alert than a man in his own house. The instinct to pretend and play the ever poised man kicking in. Marble like perfection, cold and purposeful failing to reach his bloodshot eyes, or to even stop the slight tremble of the lower lip he worried between his teeth. Your face softened, outlined by the soft glow of the lamp somewhere off in the hall. Concern flashed across the (e/c) eyes he so loved. Resolve breaking with each gentle sock padded footstep. His body shook as violently as the the storm raging outside.

Mentally taking stock of all you could see your voice broke through the silence giving away your ever present concern. “You’re all wet! You’ll catch a cold”.With ease you would your arms around his gargantuan frame pulling him to your smaller one. Yet in this instance he didn’t doubt the strength behind your arms. He pulled you closer placing you and the space between his legs all but, curling around your welcomed warmth. Familiar and safe keeping him together without fear of being cut by the sharp jagged edges of his personality that he prided himself on. All it took was a handful of words and the tears fell openly. A messy head of sticky wet hair connecting with your shoulder wetting the soft material. Clad in one of the sweaters he favored but always found it’s way on your frame. Cold rain water mixing with warm tears as he gently squeezed, breathing in your scent mixed with his own. “I know I just…I” he didn’t know what he wanted to say. That he didn’t think he deserved to be taken care of? That he no longer had the energy to pull himself up? That all it took was one bad day for him to go back to the scared little boy he tried so hard to erase..

“Shh it’s ok. You’re home. Whatever happened, we can talk about it ok. We’ll work it out. We just don’t have to right now”. Small hands carted through his tangled locks finding their way to a strong jawline. With ease you lifted him up to face you. He didn’t protest, languidly moving where you wanted him to. Eye level now that he was sitting. He didn’t think he’d ever want to talk about it, not fully but, he was grateful for the fact that you didn’t force him and that in return for your patience he’d slowly open up his world to you. Though what was out there could not compare to what was here. With you, not in the house the two of you spent grueling august days renovating but, the arms that kept him, the thing everyone feared safe.

Each morning he comes back expecting an empty home smelling faintly of you. The only thing you’d leave behind. Like a dream too far out of reach or water through clenched fingers. You were smart, beautiful and deserved so much better than he could give. He knew this all too well but, you looked at him in a way he didn’t deserve. A way he might never deserve. Much too selfish to let go of his little piece of heaven he clung onto your comfort. Kylo knew that if there was a hell he’d one day end up there and he made peace with that but, until than he’d take every moment he had with you. “Thank you.”

“Hmm?”

Startled by his voice you perked up, expecting him to shut down until you gently coaxed him out of his shell. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you but, I sure as hell know who I would be. You keep me sane. You know what I am, what i’ve done but here you are. You stayed.” He wet his lips before continuing stumbling through the mix of emotions that had settled in his throat. “You’re my conscious you’re what keeps whatever little good you see in me there. ” His lips captured your own, fingers running along the soft pajama bottoms you wore before settling in the crook of your knee. It was a kiss that was desperate sloppy as he tried to memorize the shape of your lips with his own. One that spoke volumes, splaying his heart open to you and only you to with as you wished.

Behind the two of you morning broke, with it the storm turned from the raging winds that threatened to unearth your home, to a gentle drizzle. Neither cared as they pulled apart and drank each other in. Content in the shared breaths and small space between one another. “Come on let’s go shower you smell like you fell into a bar.” He blinked once, twice, before the laughter rumbled out. Deep and thunderous, going through you in your close proximity. His own storm quieted by the light you shined. “I thought you liked tequila?”.