#do i know what caused this no do i want to stop it god. yeah. i wanna go out and vlimb trees :( i wanna hug my friends

[wonwovy]

𐔌 KMG ⋮ MODEL HEADCANONS ⸝⸝

⋆.˚ warning ! this content contains nsfw, if you are a minor please do not interact.

model!mingyu who is a world renowned model with many fashion covers & high end brand deals.

model!mingyu who heard of a new rising star model, aspiring to be as successful as him.

model!mingyu who had gotten the news that he would collab with said model for the monthly vogue cover, which he felt quite curious to see what was all the fuss about you.

model!mingyu who was quite stunned by your gorgeousness & beauty when he finally met you but managed to mask it, giving off a nonchalant vibe.

model!mingyu who tried ignoring you as much as he could because he wouldn’t let his rich playboy persona crash down just because of a pretty thing like you ( which he failed miserably afterwards. )

model!mingyu who tensed a bit (a lot) when the photographer instructed him to cover your breasts with his big veiny hands.

model!mingyu who smugly smirked seeing you getting all flustered when the photographer told you said pose. but he certainly wasn’t having the last laugh. when you both finally got into the position, mingyu felt his little friend say hello and to say his cheeks flushed pink was an understatement.

model!mingyu who zoomed into his private room as soon as you finished today’s set, purposefully ignoring you, taking care of his little problem.

model!mingyu who got held back by you as you finally got to the chance to speak to him. “h-hello mingyu-sunbae, thank you for today I’m so honored to be in shoot with you let alone a vogue cover” you sheepishly smiled in awe by his striking visuals then greeting all the staff in the room & thanking them for their hard work.

model!mingyu who just sat there giving a slight smile not sure what to say to you, clearly not wanting to embarrass himself infront of you. “thank you y/n” he finally managed to say trying to act calm. but quickly wished he just shut up & sat there smiling, who would say that?! he thought.

model!mingyu who sighed, relieved as everybody left his room for a break.

model!mingyu who slid his hand slowly to his raging boner, his mind going back to when he felt your tits, god he was a pervert for thinking about your sweet perky boobs.

model!mingyu who groaned as he palmed himself steadily but picking up his pace gradually as his filthy thoughts grew.

model!mingyu who got quite vocal as he chased his high, grinding his hips when his hand came in contact with the base of his long, girthy cock, creating some kind of new friction.

model!mingyu ‘s pleasurable feeling turned into a startled one as the door swung open revealing none than you, “o-oh my sunbae! I apologize for barging in, I-i thou-“ you stopped your speech as you finally the sticky (quite literally) situation that he’s in.

model!mingyu who was quick enough to cover himself but not quick enough to explain his well… current state, as you already have cracked it out. a satisfied smirk forming into your lips “wow sunbae seems you have a problem here” you giggle coming close to a still hard mingyu. “you know you’ve caused this right” he groaned as you sat between his legs, looking oh so pretty & not so innocently innocent.

model!mingyu who pulled your hair up so you would meet his beautiful brown eyes “it’s only fair for you to fix it yeah, angel?” a shit-eating grin on his lips as he leaned back, spreading his legs to offer you more access. obliging to his demands, licking the pinkish tip of his shaft. you lapped his tip a few more times before taking him whole till your chin nudged his balls.

model!mingyu who threw his back when you began to give him the messiest & filthiest head known to man, tangling his hand in your hair once again as he began to thrust his cock into your mouth, taking control over you “f-fuck gonna gag you with my big cock” he moaned out continuing to throw some more dirty words as his high came close.

model!mingyu whose seed gushed into your mouth with some of it dripping on your chin, creating a lewd but still beautiful look on your face “swallow it for me, baby” he squished your cheeks gently. gracefully gulping down his cum the salty bitter sweet taste painting you throat. “good girl” he pecked your lips. “you know mings, you did a good job for ‘professionally’ meeting me” you giggled as you & mingyu have been in a secret relationship for six months now.

model!mingyu who let out a hearty chuckle while he dressed up “god baby, you’re driving me crazy here” he said helping you stand up “remind me to thank you back at home” he whispered in your ear then softly kissing it.

boyfriend model!mingyu who can’t wait to get home to ruin his pretty little girlfriend all over again.

boyfriend model!mingyu who thanks god that no one can see you like this but himself.

boyfriend model!mingyu who hoped that no one catched your little raunchy act.

boyfriend model!mingyu who gave your bum quick slap and winking before going back to the shoot acting as if nothing happened.

⸝⸝ dividers by @/cafekitsune

⸝⸝ big thanks to @junkissed for proofreading this !!

[zweigsangel]

ex fratboy! chris. smut-angst. 1.8k words.

it’s one of those late nights, and you’re standing there in the middle of a way-too-crowded, kinda messy party that, honestly, you only came to ‘cause your friends dragged you here. the air's thick with too many people, bad beer, and random songs blaring loud enough to drown out any thoughts you might’ve had. and that’s when you see him: chris. the ex you swore you were over. but like, really, are you?

it’s weird though, ‘cause he’s just chilling across the room, laughing too loud, his arm around some guy you don’t recognize, talking animatedly about god knows what. he’s got that same stupid, loose stance, shoulders relaxed, wearing that hoodie he always wore, the one you’d stolen a million times. you think— hope, he hasn’t noticed you, so you kinda try to blend in, sticking close to the wall, pretending to check your phone.

you weren’t always like this, all distant and tense. you’d meet up after his frat meetings, and he’d tell you all these wild stories about his brothers, like the time they tried building a slip n’ slide down the staircase and ended up getting written up by their advisor. you’d just sit there laughing so hard you’d cry, and he’d look at you like nothing in the world could ever compare. and for a while, it felt like he was it. but it ended, kinda messy, mostly because chris was…well, chris. he’d blow off plans, flirt with people at parties, and honestly, it just felt like he didn’t know what he wanted. or maybe he did, and it just wasn’t you. he’d show up late and drunk, ramble on about his deep thoughts on the universe, and then disappear for days, leaving you feeling like some kind of afterthought. eventually, you got tired of being the whenever person, so you cut it off. even if it hurt.

it’s been a few months now, and you’re doing your thing—focusing on classes, seeing friends, trying to move on.

but nah. of course he sees you.

“yo, wait up,” he calls, weaving his way through people, looking right at you. you try to act casual, like this isn’t a big deal, like you don’t feel your stomach flip. he stops in front of you, that grin still hanging on his face. “hey,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “long time no see, huh?”

“yeah, well, been busy,” you reply, shrugging. it sounds casual enough, but he’s still looking at you like he’s trying to read something on your face.

“you look good,” he says after a pause, and it’s so out of character for him to just say something like that, straight-up, that it throws you off for a second “uh...thanks?” you laugh, awkwardly. you know he’s probably just trying to be friendly, but you can’t help wondering if there’s more to it. “so...you still doing the same old chris thing?”

he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away for a second. “i guess so,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. and then he kinda sighs, like he’s tired of the frat boy act, or maybe just tired of himself. “been, uh…been thinkin’ about you,” he admits, his voice low. “more than i probably should.”

you try to brush it off, folding your arms to keep your cool. “oh, yeah? that’s, uh, new.”

“i know, i know, i messed up,” he says, sighing. “just…never got you outta my head, y’know?” you can feel yourself softening despite everything. “yeah, well, maybe you should’ve tried harder.”

he looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and there’s this vulnerability there, like he’s finally ready to admit something he’s been holding back. “you think i didn’t? trust me, i tried. i just…i dunno. couldn’t do it.”

you don’t want to care, don’t want to feel that old pull, but it’s there, creeping up on you. he steps closer, barely an inch between you now, his gaze never leaving yours. “you want me to back off?” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the music. “just tell me, and i will.”

you could tell him to go. could shut this down, walk away, stay done with him. but instead, you shake your head, just a tiny movement, and he lets out a soft breath, like he’s been holding it in. before you can think, his hand’s on your waist, his fingers brushing lightly over your hip, pulling you closer.

the kiss starts slow, tentative, his lips brushing over yours like he’s testing if this is real. then his hand moves up, slipping around your back, and it’s like something inside you snaps. you grab the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, and he lets out a low sound, his grip on you tightening as he presses his body against yours, his mouth moving over yours with more intensity.

“missed you,” he whispers against your lips, his voice rough, desperate. you barely register the words, just feel the heat rising between you two, feel his hands sliding lower, pulling you against him, his fingers firm on your waist, his mouth moving along your jaw, down to your neck, sending shivers through you. you tug him toward the hallway, away from the crowded room, and he follows, his hand gripping yours, letting you lead him through the maze of people until you push open the bathroom door, dragging him inside.

the space is cramped and a little dingy, but you don’t care. the second the door clicks shut, his hands are on you, pushing you gently but firmly against the door. his mouth crashes into yours, hot and urgent, and your hands find their way under his hoodie, slipping over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. you tug the hoodie off him, and he lifts his arms to help you, tossing it aside without a second thought, his hands already back on you, roaming down your sides, exploring every inch.

he kisses you harder, more intense, his lips pressing down your neck, his hands slipping under your top, that quickly joins the hoodie on the floor.

“god, i’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a growl. “yeah? thought you forgot about me,” you tease, but there’s no real bite to your words. it’s playful, but you both know the truth behind it.

“never forgot. couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you,” he admits, his hands sliding up to your bra, deft fingers working to unclasp it. you feel a thrill of excitement mixed with nerves as it falls away, and his hands are on your bare skin, exploring, his touch igniting every nerve in your body.

“you’re, uh…sure about this?” he murmurs, his voice low, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. you don’t even hesitate. “yeah,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

he lets out a soft, almost relieved sound, and his mouth finds yours again, hungrier this time, like he’s been holding back and can’t anymore. his hands slide down, finding the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down, his touch steady and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. you step out of it, your pulse racing as his hands explore you, pulling you closer, pressing you against him.

you tug at his belt, fingers fumbling, but he’s already helping, working the buckle loose, kicking off his jeans. he’s back against you in a second, his hands on your hips, his lips trailing down your collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth and shivers in their wake.

he lifts you, setting you on the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist. “you okay?” he asks, checking in, “yeah, jus’ do it,” you whisper, barely able to hold back the urge to pull him closer, “please.”

he’s kissing you again, his mouth moving against yours as you feel him press against you, hot and hard, and you let out a soft gasp. “need you,” he murmurs, almost pleading, and that raw honesty sends a thrill through you. you nod, breathless, and he positions himself, sliding inside you slowly, giving you a moment to adjust. it feels incredible, every inch of him fitting perfectly, like he was made for you.

“god, you’re so tight,” he groans, burying his face in your neck, and the sound of his voice makes you moan softly. as he starts moving, the rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, and you feel every thrust, every movement building inside you. he’s murmuring your name, breathless, and the heat between you is consuming. you wrap your legs tighter around him, pulling him in deeper, urging him to go faster.

“yeah? you like that?” he asks, his breath hot against your skin as he quickens the pace. it feels electric, every thrust sending shockwaves through you, and you nod, lost in the sensation.

“so good, chris,” you moan, the words tumbling out as you feel that familiar coil tightening deep inside you. he leans back, looking at you with those dark, intense eyes, and it drives you wild. “gonna make you feel good, okay?” he says, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes your heart race.

with each thrust, the world outside fades away. it’s just the two of you, the heat of the moment enveloping you, and you feel that sweet pressure building, your body responding to every touch, every whisper, until you’re trembling around him, ready to fall apart.

“come on, babe,” he encourages, his voice low and rough, and you can hear the strain in it as he moves faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “can’t hold on much longer,” you breathe, feeling that familiar rush as he hits just the right spot, sending you spiraling.

“let go for me,” he says, his voice thick with desire, and the way he looks at you, his eyes dark and hungry, pushes you over the edge. with a loud gasp, you’re coming undone, waves of pleasure crashing over you, and he follows right after, burying himself deep as he lets go. the sound of his voice, mixed with yours, fills the tiny bathroom, and in that moment, it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, together again in a way you thought you’d never be.

as you both come down from the high, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. he doesn’t say anything, just lets the silence settle between you, a quiet, unspoken apology wrapped up in the way he looks at you, his eyes softer than you remember, like maybe he’s finally realized what he’s been missing all along.

and for now, it’s enough to let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

[watarfallar]

If I had a nickel for every time I posted an incorrect quotes dump, I'd have a lot of nickles!

BigB: What if I lied this whole time and I'm actually 18? Mumbo: BigB, stop trying to get drugs. BigB: Don't suppress my interests.

Lizzie: Oh, my God. Do you know what this is? Jimmy: It’s a book. There’s a lot of those in here, this is a library.

Tango: Don’t stay up all night, Ren. Last time you got this sleep-deprived, you tried to eat your own shirt.

Scar: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly. Gem, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

Etho: Gem has no idea I’m high. Gem: You’re high? Etho: Oh, I’m sorry. Etho, leaning over to Grian: Gem has no idea I’m high.

Martyn: Why don't we just call it, "M.C. Donald's?" Scar: Because it just sounds like a stupid rapper's name. Cleo: It'd just be like- "Eyo, it's ya boy, M.C. Donald!"

Scar: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Grian: 'Prettiest Smile' Joel: 'Nicest Personality' Ren: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Cleo: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Impulse: I don't follow the rules. I follow dogs on social media.

Pearl: So I’m the only one around here who can clean up, huh? You can't even lift a finger? Tango: Do I get to pick the finger?

Jimmy, talking to Impulse: Well Impulse, whenever I’m about to do something, I think ‘would Gem do that?’ and if they would, I do not do that thing. Impulse: … Gem, from the distance: They’re not wrong though!

Pearl: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

BigB: Tango, what if there are monsters? Tango: Don’t worry, we’re top of the food chain. Much later… BigB, lying awake at night: I am the monster.

Pearl: If we don’t get out of this alive… If we’re both about to die… I love you, Gem! *Neither of them die* Gem: … Pearl: … Gem: So do you wanna talk about somethi- Pearl: No thank you.

Bdubs: Aww, what's your dog's name? Tango: Spartacus. Bdubs, yelling to Martyn: TRY SPARTACUS! Martyn, on the computer: DIDN'T WORK! Tango: Bdubs: What's your favorite number?

Scott: Don’t say a word. Impulse: Fergalicious. Scott: Impulse, I said no words. Impulse: Oh, I see how it works. Two weeks ago, we’re playing Scrabble, it’s not a word, now suddenly it is a word because it’s convenient for you.

Skizz, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

Cleo: Who wants to make fifty bucks? Tango: How? Cleo: I need someone to take the fall. Tango: What did you do? Cleo: I can't tell you. Yes or no, no questions asked. Etho, from the other room: Oh my god. Cleo: ... Etho: OH MY GOD! Tango: Make it a hundred. Cleo: Deal.

Mumbo: So jellyshish- Grian, laughing: JELLYSHISH!? Mumbo: You know what I meant!

Cleo: We can't lose. Because we have this. *points to their chest* Skizz: We have heart? Cleo: Heart? No, me. I'm pointing at myself. I'm going to win this for us.

Etho: Do you even have a plan? Tango: This is the plan! I break you out, chaos, destruction, something something something, we win! Etho: Oh, of course, the old “something something something we win”. That’s a terrible plan!

Pearl: Why is it that I always lose things as soon as I need them? Grian: Actually, it's not that you lose things when you need them. You lose them a while before. It's just that you LOOK for things when you need them. Pearl: Okay yeah thanks Grian, that's great but WHERE'S THE FUCKING FIRST AID KIT?

Scar: And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.

[salemlunaa]

Let me start off by saying that I absolutely love your posts. And ur energy really made me want to embody that for myself. I hope u can help with some issues that's I've been facing.

I've been in this community for an odd 4 years and u can say that I've consumed every type of information. I know all about the law. When I start to apply the law I get really discouraged waking up in the same fucking reality and when shit doesn't change instantly. That sets me off on a cycle that I can't seem to get out of.

It's been a nightmare with me being so anxious and desperate all the time. Also some things that I've done hurt my parents real bad, but I did it with the intention of leaving this place the next day. And by bad I mean constantly lying to them abt going to clg and they finding out and all of the shit that follows after that. But yeah I admit I wasn't that great of a daughter. So now that I'm trying to manifest a better life for myself, I feel guilty and feel like all I'm doing is just escaping.

I don't know how to deal with my emotions but I want out of here immediately cause it's gotten really bad and I don't even feel like living anymore.

What do I do to leave here immediately? How do I trust that I am a god and that only what I want will happen?

Sorry for all that rant. Just needed to get it out.

hi love, i’m sorry you’re going through this, circumstances can get so shitty sometimes, trust me, i know.

And you might not like the answer, but you have to live in imagination, give yourself your desires in the 4d, give yourself the success of waking up with your desires in the 4d, give it all to yourself in imagination and the 3d will always follow.

You’re allowed to have your emotions, it won’t mess up your progress if you scream, cry, get frustrated etc, you’re allowed to feel discouraged but don’t let that stop you, please don’t let it stop you because it will be so worth it when you have the life of your dreams after realising how easy it is.

live in the 4d now, who’s to say you woke up with nothing? who’s to say you’re a bad daughter? who’s to say you haven’t manifested much? are you resonating with that reality because the 3d said so? screw the 3d!! you have your desires and always have done 💞💞

[makedonsgriva]

anyway I had a thought today where crown prince xie lian is younger than everyone else.

He is probably 6-7 when he gets mu qing and feng xin (who are 16-17) and they coddle him a lot. Basically XL is their baby brother and baby prince wants to be as strong as his older brothers because they are both so cool!!!

baby lian meets hong-er on the streets one day and please gege can’t we keep him??? I don’t have friends!! You two don’t count cause you’re not my age. Please just please!!!!

So that’s how the trio becomes a quartet and feng xin and mu qing are not only the body guards of the prince but also baby sitters of two very unruly kids who are never up to any good

(They are not getting paid enough to deal with them) (it’s a damn good thing they love the fuck outta those kids)

anyways XL starts his training and ofc Honger tags along. they grow up training together, challenging each other, competing but falling in love at the same time and yeah celibacy is easy for XL except every time he sees HC his thoughts go haywire

When XL ascends, he has three generals by his side.

When he falls, he has two because honger died in the war

And XL truly thinks he is to blame. He went from being the darling of the heavens to someone who has now lost everything. he can’t bear the loss of his beloved

(And he never even got to confess)

Ofc HC keeps him company as a ghost fire because he’d never let his beloved be alone. (XL does not know who the ghost fire is because knowing the love of his life is not at peace would hurt him immeasurably) FX and MQ try their best to stick with him but circumstances deteriorate and they are forced out of his life once again

although this time, MQ does stand up for XL in front of the 33 gods (and gets subsequently banished from heavens). In the end, he still has to leave XL. FX gets forced out of his life after the entire sword ordeal and XL’s subsequent mental breakdown.

Unknown to XL tho they are still both watching over him from a distance because ain’t no way they are leaving their baby bro like this

When XL enters his calamity era, they both lose their minds and are trying their best to subtly stop XL from doing the worst things but THAT STUPID FUCKING GHOST ALWAYS FOLLOWING HIM AROUND WILL NOT STOP ENABLING EVERY BAD DECISION XL TAKES

fx and mq are losing their minds. when xl lies in the streets for three days, they try their best to disguise themselves and go help him but that NAMELESS GHOST!!! He does not let them!! “Your highness would be heartbroken when he realizes you two have seen him in such a state and he’d never forgive himself and you two suck at disguising yourselves anyways~”

wu ming does end up getting dispersed but not before XL realizes his true identity and absolutely loses his mind with grief because how did he manage to lose his loved one not once but TWICE and both the times it was HIS FAULT

He gets banished from heavens again because ofc

knowing xl won’t be able to cope fx and mq finally reveal themselves. xl can feel all ashamed of himself for his actions it’s fine they are not leaving him alone again and they will help him heal and move on

Except one night when the two aren’t paying attention, XL ends up running away. He can’t bear being around them, knowing they know what he did and how he caused honger’s death twice.

(fx and mq never blamed him at all. They were just heartbroken and guilt stricken for not being able to do enough for their darling brother)

Cue 800 years of searching.

This time when XL ascends, he is greeted by two powerful generals who have been reduced to a tearful mess because THEY FINALLY HAVE XL BACK WITH THEM!!! THEIR BABY BRO IS SAFE

they accompany him to mount Yu Jun as themselves and HC comes to XL’s aid

he does not reveal his identity but XL just knows this man is special

FX and MQ then tell him about Crimson Rain Sought Flower, the elusive ghost king who challenged 33 gods and crushed them all

(But he was super nice to both of them and it kinda freaked them out)

When XL meets San Lang. He knows. He just knows it’s Honger and feels like he can finally breathe again because in those 800 years he never once stopped loving him but he waits for him to reveal his identity to him because what is stopping him from telling him and fx and mq?

HC, meanwhile, is sort of embarrassed to meet them, not sure if they would be able to accept this new form of his. He missed them all dearly but he is just not able to move past his self doubts.

It is not until the cave of 10k gods that it revealed who HC really is and instead of FX and MQ freaking out, there is a tearful reunion

Um yeah. A thought was thunked. Bon Appetit

[numinousher]

“Bro, she’s a bitch. Don’t listen to her.”

You scoff with a smile at hearing Jimin’s words. “Girl, that lady is my grandma. My mom sucks up to her very badly so, I kind of have to listen to her even though I want to punch the shit out of her.”

“Your grandma can kiss my ass,” Jimin harshly said as he dyed his hair a new color. He inspected his hair in the mirror as he kissed his teeth, making sure he wasn’t missing any spots. “I’ll tell her the truth. I’ll tell her, straight up, that if she causes you any trouble or any problem, she will see my fist coming to her wrinkly face before she could even blink.”

You smiled at hearing your best friend’s words of reassurance, glancing down at the dog you were walking.

“You truly would beat up a bitch for me, huh?” You teased, raising a hand as a thanks to a driver who stopped for you. You continued walking down the neighborhood.

“For you, always,” Jimin said without hesitation. “Also, where are you? I hear cars driving by.”

“Remember I’m walking Taehyung’s dog because he’s working?” Jimin let out a small ‘oh’ at your response. “Yeah, that man needs to find someone. He’s always working or staying home with this cutie.”

“I tried but the last girl said he was a red flag so, I’m just letting fate deal with it,” Jimin muttered, loud enough for you to hear what he was saying. “After all, he’s always cooking something, so I don’t mind him being single since we get fed.”

“You’re so right,” you gasped out. “Ugh, he needs to make the steak again.”

“Yes!” Jimin gasped next. “I’ll text him in the group chat.”

“Okay you do- Oh, shit!” You softly exclaimed to yourself as you tripped. You panicked, though, once you came to feel Yeontan’s leash gone from your hand. You stayed quiet, looking around, before gulping “Jimin?” You call out. He hummed. “Uh… Uh, I accidentally let go of Yeontan’s leash.”

“Oh, my God,” you heard him breathe out. “How? You were just walking him right now!”

“I tripped!” You exclaimed, your hands beginning to shake and your body heating up with worry.

“I’m heading your way. You know how much Taehyung worships that dog.”

You didn’t even process his words or him hanging up, but you looked around rapidly, hoping to catch a glimpse of the dog’s fur.

Once you saw him, you ran to him.

You thank whatever God out there that you weren’t near any traffic or that there weren’t any cars near you because if something happened to Yeontan… Taehyung would definitely kill you. He would kill you and Jimin if he had to if it meant saving Yeontan’s life. You wouldn’t blame him. You loved the dog, too, and would kill for him.

You searched every bush and yard that was in your way for anything, but Yeontan was nowhere to be seen.

Tears began blurring your eyesight at the panic because what if he got hurt? Oh, God. You can’t even imagine. No, he’s not hurt. Yeontan may be slow but he was very smart. He knew when to cross and knew when to stop if he saw a car coming.

Hopefully he’ll be okay. You’ll keep searching in the meantime.

Jungkook was on his motorcycle on the side of the street when he spotted a furry thing peeing on a bush out of the corner of his eye.

Well, he thinks he sees it because when he turns back to see if he saw right, there was nothing there.

Frowning, he took off his helmet and stood up from his motorcycle. He quickly turned it off and walked off towards where he thought he last saw the dog. He moved his backpack to the side to grab the dog treats he had just bought for his dog, Bam, making sure he had something to persuade the dog just in case it was lost and he needed to grab it.

He smiled in relief as he spotted a small furry animal sniffing around. Thankfully, he wasn’t going crazy, but it confirmed his worst fears that the dog was lost due to its leash still attached to him.

“Pss,” Jungkook softly hissed out, attracting the attention of the dog. Yeontan turned to look at him and was about to run away had he not spotted the treat in Jungkook’s hand. “Come here, bud. Want a treat?”

The dog clearly loved his treats because he came running to Jungkook at full speed, his tail wagging in the air very happily. Jungkook chuckled and grabbed the dog, feeding him the dog treat, before taking him with him to his motorcycle.

He sat down and because he did not like to ride his motorcycle with a dog that wasn’t his, he sat there and caught the attention of Yeontan.

“Let me see your collar, bud,” he said in a soft voice, grabbing the little tag that was attached to his collar. He eyed the name. “Yeontan… pretty name for you.”

Yeontan barked with his tongue sticking out, panting, clearly appreciating the compliment due to the fact he started licking Jungkook’s hand.

Jungkook read the information.

“If lost, call my dad, Taehyung…”

Jungkook took out his phone with the hand that wasn’t holding Yeontan and typed in Taehyung’s number. Though, before he could call, he spotted a woman running around in the distance yelling Yeontan’s name. He hummed under his breath.

Yeontan perked up at your voice and looked around, hoping to see you.

You were on the brink of calling Taehyung to tell him the bad news when a whistle catches your attention.

Thinking it was some perv driving by trying to catch your attention, you ignore it. You began to let out small dry sobs and you wished no one would pop up to see you ugly crying.

Another whistle.

Overstimulated, you immediately turned around to yell at the person yelling. Your mouth was opened, ready to spew out curses, before spotting a man with a leather jacket holding Yeontan on his lap while he sat on his motorcycle.

You gasp. “Yeontan!” You immediately headed towards the man, your arms picking up the small furry animal who started licking your face. You held him tight. “I’m so fucking mad at you. Your dad would’ve killed me, you know that? I would’ve never been able to feed you underneath the table and then who would feed you, hmm? I’m so mad at you.”

Nuzzling your face against his fur, your eyes opened as you remembered that you weren’t entirely alone. There was another person there, watching you.

You came face to face with a man, a small amused smile on his lips. Your body heated up with embarrassment at the thought of your panicked expression and how you were just talking to Yeontan.

“Oh, hello,” you said with a small sniff. You wiped your tears away with the sleeve of your sweater. “Thank you so much for holding onto him.”

“I saw him running so I figured you’d need a hand,” the stranger said, watching the dog lick your chin. He arched a brow before clearing his throat. “Is he your dog?”

You shook your head and looked back up to look at him. Really look at him. He was handsome, yeah, but nothing compared to your boyfriend, who hasn’t texted you good morning yet, by the way, now that you think about it.

“No, he’s my friend’s dog,” you replied. You glanced between him and the dog, bowing your head. “Thank you again. You saved my life. If he had gotten hurt, I would not be standing in front of you.”

The man chuckled. “How did he even get loose?” You groaned and placed your forehead on top of Yeontan’s head. “That embarrassing, huh?”

“I fucking tripped,” you sheepishly said, scratching the dog. Though you were upset at him for having you panicking and running around—even if it was your fault—the dog was too cute for you to stay mad at for too long. “I learned my lesson not to talk on the phone while walking him.”

Jungkook snorted. “Ah, don’t worry. That happened to me once, too, so don’t blame yourself too hard.” He smiled and pet the dog in your arms. “Are you far from your destination?”

“No,” you nodded. You could see he was worried about leaving you there after that incident, especially since you were still shaking from the adrenaline. “I’m good though. I’m, like, 5 minutes away.”

Humming, he nodded with you. “Okay, then. That makes me feel better, I was worried that you might’ve lived far—” He stops mid-conversation and looks at you. “You look familiar by the way.”

“Do I?” You frown.

“You live by the Diamond Apartment Complex?” He asked, his helmet in his hands as he was about to put it on.

You debated whether to tell him or not considering he was a man and you didn’t know him. But, he must live there, too, so you hummed.

“Yeah, why?” Though, you put the pieces together once you noted his motorcycle and his words. “Don’t tell me you live in 36B.”

“And you live in 35B,” he scoffed. You could see the corner of his lip, where his lip ring was, tilted up in an amused smile. “You’re the girl who is always yelling.”

“And you’re the jerk who revs his motorcycle so early in the morning,” you retorted back. “I’ve actually been meaning to speak to you.”

“Mmm, to tell me how annoying my motorcycle is and that I have a small dick?” He raised a brow in almost a challenging way. You gaped at him. “I heard your conversation on the phone yesterday with your boyfriend. The walls are thin.”

“Oh, my God,” you breathed out embarrassedly.

“Nice to know my dick size resides in your mind,” he said with a low chuckle escaping his lips. He put on his helmet. “Tell your boyfriend he should fuck you better if that’s what you think of 24/7.”

“I-” you simply said. “Leave my love life out of this. You shouldn’t be talking when you can’t even make your girlfriend moan.”

A smirk grew on his face behind his helmet. “Tell your boyfriend to stop making you fake your moans, then.”

“I never fake it. Maybe you’re pissed off about me admitting you have a small dick because it’s true and you haven’t felt the touch of your girlfriend in months.”

He looked at you and you knew he was because you could feel his stare burning your body despite his visor blocking his face.

He simply hummed.

“Watch out tonight.”

“Did you just threaten me?” You let out a small scoff while you look at him, moving aside towards the sidewalk.

“Oh, not you,” he said. “Just going to let you know, you won’t be sleeping at all.” He started his motorcycle. “You want to say all that shit, then I’ll prove you wrong.”

You snorted and slowly nodded before walking away. You placed one last kiss on Yeontan's head.

“What an idiot.”

2U⭑.ᐟ ── OOO. met a biker guy

BEFORE ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ AFTER

NOTE: hehe only doing this because it seemed interesting so i hope you guys love it!

TAGLIST: @an-ever-angry-bi @parapiop7 @renoirgoh @ldysmfrst @futuristicenemychaos … (open)

[knifearo]

ultimately when it comes to shipping and fandom space treatment of aspec characters i just don't accept "aro/ace people can still date/have sex" as an answer from nonaspecs. like yeah. mhm. okay. now i think we both know that you're not saying that out of real interest in the diversity of aspec experiences. so you can turn in your seventeen-page essay on why and how you plan to examine this character's aspec identity within the context of a romantic or sexual relationship complete with evidence from canon and peer reviews from multiple aspec people within the next week or i'm putting you in the pit from the edgar allen poe story

[todayisafridaynight]

sequel to this because it won't let me add videos on reblogs but what the fuck. like what the fuck are we seeing the same fucking clip. why the fuck is he allowed to do that.

[batemanofficial]

hello upper middle class northern usamerican tumblr user. i want to play a game. you will notice that you are in a super america convenience store in rural kentucky - you have three minutes to purchase a snack and drink of your choice and make normal small talk with the cashier. however, if you use the word "cryptid" or generally make reference to appalachia and its inhabitants as "wild", uncivilized, or lacking restraint around alcoholic beverages during your time here, i will personally tie you to the chassis of a four wheeler and tip it into the river. live or die. make your choice

[creativebrainrot]

okay rambling time actually

i have so many identity issues (?) no one ever really sees me the way i see my self and i know thats because im currently incapable of allowing myself to act as I am due to my trauma caused by my father.

a n y confidence or personal opinion i dared to state as fact would get interrogated or questions or invalidated and that's resulted in me constantly, involuntarily, cushioning all my language in the tone "or whatever lol something like that lmao idk im just a stupid silly little guy!!! ive never had a thought ever lol lmao !!!!!!!!!" and I genuinely resent that.

its hard to break out of though because I do, also, enjoy purposefully joking like that. I can draw a line between that and my default behavior, its just hard; since the divorce, since his death, since finally being well and truly free, I have had to re-write myself. I'm doing better than ever yeah, this so called chrysalis phase of my life has by all account been awfully stress free, I am grateful for that.

I will never be grateful for being forced in to the molds I was by my father, I hope he rots alone in purgatory. To get back on topic- I am trying to 'fix' this, to rewrite myself into who I really am. It's kinda hard though; when your default is 120% "heehoo i am a sillay little gnome ive never had a thought in my life i am goofy !!!!" then anytime you do speak, plainly, like anyone else would, you feel like all of a sudden you're being "harsh" or "too serious." I know thats not true but part of me does, at least a little, fear that when I've grown into who I want to be the ones I love now won't be there / won't love me the same- I know that's unlikely, I know it won't happen, that if we fade from eachother it'd probably be for other reasons than my speech changing slightly. Because nothing else will change about me I'm not going to actually "get meaner" i'm simply a little frightened that's how it would sound to some.

But, you know. if, self-confidence and the real personality I have coming forward means I lose friends then were we ever really friends? in a way. I don't know but anyway that's only a small fear because I have deadpan phases and deadpan friends/people around me already.

It's the convincing myself to stop panicking everytime I let myself be confident or stoic or sure and secure. The day I've worked through most of the trauma that causes me intense anxiousness and insecurity is the day I can finally thrive and be me.

You don't know how tired I am of cushioning myself in language and tone that says "I am small. I am anxious. I am silly, goofy, tiny, harmless. I am not a threat. I am incapable of being a threat."

because people listen to you. and now that my father is dead and gone I got nothing to be traumatically defensive about like that.

[chiistarri]

what if instead of messaging me in the middle of the night about your stupid fucking girlfriend and your stupid fucking problems with her you actually act like my fucking friend and message me like how you message everyone else in our group

[sludgeguzzler]

ever since the pandemic ended and i started going out and talking to people with the goal of "making friends being happy loving life" ive started o realize that i in fact do not enjoy the stay at home doing nothing not talking to anyone lifestyle and that i love calling ppl and that nature is actually the bomb, all the times id rather stay in bc "im just not an outings guy" is actually bc im like. traumatized or something

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 57

Chapter Highlights (most of the chapter is the highlight lol)

An hour before dawn, the keep and two armies beyond it were stirring.

Rowan had barely slept, and instead lain awake beside Aelin, listening to her breathing.

That the rest of them slumbered soundly was testament to their exhaustion, though Lorcan had not found them again. Rowan was willing to bet it was by choice.

It was not fear or anticipation of battle that had kept Rowan up—no, he'd slept well enough during other wars. But rather the fact that his mind would not stop looping him from thought to thought to thought.

He'd seen the numbers camped outside.

Valg, human men loyal to Erawan, some fell beasts, yet nothing like the ilken or the

Wyrdhounds, or even the witches.

Aelin could wipe them away before the sun had fully risen. A few blasts of her power, and that army would be gone.

Yet she had not presented it as an option in their planning last night.

He'd seen the hope shining in the eyes of the people in the keep, the awe of the children as she'd passed. The Fire-Bringer, they'd whispered. Aelin of the Wildfire.

How soon would that awe and hope crumble today when not a spark of that fire was unleashed? How soon would the men's fear turn rank when the Queen of Terrasen did not wipe away Morath's legions?

He hadn't been able to ask her. Had told himself to, had roared at himself to ask these past few weeks, when even their training hadn't summoned an ember.

But he couldn't bring himself to demand why she wouldn't or couldn't use her power, why they had seen or felt nothing of it after those initial few days of freedom. Couldn't ask what Maeve and Cairn had done to possibly make her fear or hate her magic enough that she didn't touch it.

Worry and dread gnawing at him, Rowan slipped from the room, the din of preparations greeting him the moment he entered the hall. A heartbeat later, the door opened behind him, and steps fell into sync with his own, along with a familiar, wicked scent.

"They burned her."

Rowan glanced sidelong at Fenrys. "What?" But Fenrys nodded to a passing healer.

"Cairn—and Maeve, through her orders."

"Why are you telling me this?" Fenrys, blood oath or no, what he'd done for Aelin or no, was not privy to these matters. No, it was between him and his mate, and no one else.

Fenrys threw him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. "You were staring at her half the night. I could see it on your face. You're all thinking it—why doesn't she just burn the enemy to hell?" Rowan aimed for the washing station down the hall. A few soldiers and healers stood along the metal trough, scrubbing their faces to shake the sleep or nerves.

Fenrys said, "He put her in those metal gauntlets. And one time, he heated them over an open brazier. There…" He stumbled for words, and Rowan could barely breathe. "It took the healers two weeks to fix what he did to her hands and wrists. And when she woke up, there was nothing but healed skin. She couldn't tell what had been done and what was a nightmare." Rowan reached for one of the ewers that some of the children refilled every few moments and dumped it over his head. Icy water bit into his skin, drowning out the roaring in his ears.

"Cairn did many things like that." Fenrys took up a ewer himself, and splashed some into his hands before rubbing them over his face.

Rowan's hands shook as he watched the water funnel toward the basin set beneath the trough.

"Your claiming marks, though." Fenrys wiped his face again. "No matter what they did to her, they remained. Longer than any other scar, they stayed."

Yet her neck had been smooth when he'd found her.

Reading that thought, Fenrys said, "The last time they healed her, right before she escaped. That's when they vanished. When Maeve told her that you had gone to Terrasen."

The words hit like a blow. When she had lost hope that he was coming for her. Even the greatest healers in the world hadn't been able to take that from her until then.

Rowan wiped his face on the arm of his jacket. "Why are you telling me this?" he repeated.

Fenrys rose from the trough, drying his face with the same lack of ceremony. "So you can stop wondering what happened. Focus on something else today." The warrior kept pace beside him as they headed for where they'd been told a meager breakfast would be laid out.

"And let her come to you when she's ready."

"She's my mate," Rowan growled. "You think I don't know that?" Fenrys could shove his snout into someone else's business.

Fenrys held up his hands. "You can be brutal, when you want something."

"I'd never force her to tell me anything she wasn't ready to say." It had been their bargain from the start. Part of why he'd fallen in love with her.

He should have known then, during those days in Mistward, when he found himself sharing parts of himself, his history, that he'd never told anyone. When he found himself needing to tell her, in fragments and pieces, yes, but he'd wanted her to know. And Aelin had wanted to hear it. All of it.

They discovered Aelin and Elide already at the buffet table, grim-faced as they plucked up pieces of bread and cheese and dried fruit. No sign of Gavriel or Lorcan.

Rowan came up behind his mate and pressed a kiss to her neck. Right to where his new claiming marks lay.

She hummed, and offered him a bite of the bread she'd already dug into while gathering the rest of her food. He obliged, the bread thick and hearty, then said, "You were asleep when I left a few minutes ago, yet you somehow beat me to the breakfast table." Another kiss to her neck. "Why am I not surprised?"

Elide laughed beside Aelin, piling food onto her own plate. Aelin only elbowed him as he fell into line beside her.

The four of them ate quickly, refilled their waterskins at the fountain in an interior courtyard, and set about finding armor. There was little on the upper levels that was fit for wearing, so they descended into the keep, deeper and deeper, until they came across a locked room.

"Should we, or is it rude?" Aelin mused, peering at the wooden door.

Rowan sent a spear of his wind aiming for the lock and splintered it apart. "Looks like it was already open when we got here," he said mildly.

Aelin gave him a wicked grin, and Fenrys pulled a torch off its bracket in the narrow stone hallway to illuminate the room beyond.

"Well, now we know why the rest of the keep is a piece of shit," Aelin said, surveying the trove. "He's kept all the gold and fun things down here."

Indeed, his mate's idea of fun things was the same as Rowan's: armor and swords, spears and ancient maces.

"He couldn't have distributed this?" Elide frowned at the racks of swords and daggers.

"It's all heirlooms," said Fenrys, approaching one such rack and studying the hilt of a sword. "Ancient, but still good. Really good," he added, pulling a blade from its sheath.

He glanced at Rowan. "This was forged by an Asterion blacksmith."

"From a different age," Rowan mused, marveling at the flawless blade, its impeccable condition. "When Fae were not so feared."

"Are we just going to take it? Without even Chaol's permission?" Elide chewed on her lip.

Aelin snickered. "Let's consider ourselves swords-for-hire. And as such, we have fees that need to be paid." She hefted a round, golden shield, its edges beautifully engraved with a motif of waves. Also Asterion-made, judging by the craftsmanship. Likely for the Lord of Anielle— the Lord of the Silver Lake. "So, we'll take what we're owed for today's battle, and spare His Lordship the task of having to come down here himself."

Gods, he loved her.

Fenrys winked at Elide. "I won't tell if you don't, Lady."

Elide blushed, then waved them onward. "Collect your earnings, then."

Rowan did. He and Fenrys found armor that could fit them—in certain areas. They had to forgo the entire suit, but took pieces to enforce their shoulders, forearms, and shins. Rowan had just finished strapping greaves on his legs when Fenrys said, "We should bring some of this up for Lorcan and Gavriel."

Indeed they should. Rowan eyed other pieces, and began collecting extra daggers and blades, then sections from another suit that might fit Lorcan, Fenrys doing the same for Gavriel.

"You must charge a great deal for your services," Elide muttered. Even while the Lady of Perranth tied a few daggers to her own belt.

"I need some way to pay for my expensive tastes, don't I?" Aelin drawled, weighing a dagger in her hands.

But she hadn't donned any armor yet, and when Rowan gave her an inquiring glance, Aelin jerked her chin toward him. "Head upstairs-track down Lorcan and Gavriel. I'll find you soon."

Her face was unreadable for once. Perhaps she wanted a moment alone before battle. And when Rowan tried to find any words in her eyes, Aelin turned toward the shield she'd claimed. As if contemplating it.

So Rowan and Fenrys headed upstairs, Elide helping to haul their stolen gear. No one stopped them. Not with the sky turning to gray, and soldiers rushing to their positions on the battlements.

Rowan and Fenrys didn't have far to go.

They'd be stationed by the gates at the lower level, where the battering rams might come flying through if Morath got desperate enough.

On the level above them, Chaol sat astride his magnificent black horse, the mare's breath curling from her nostrils. Rowan lifted a hand in greeting, and Chaol saluted back before gazing toward the enemy army.

The khaganate would make the first maneuver, the initial push to get Morath moving.

"I always forget how much I hate this part," Fenrys muttered. "The waiting before it begins."

Rowan grunted his agreement.

Gavriel prowled up to them, Lorcan a dark storm behind him. Rowan wordlessly handed the latter the armor he'd gathered. "Courtesy of the Lord of Anielle." Lorcan gave him a look that said he knew Rowan was full of shit, but began efficiently donning the armor, Gavriel doing the same.

Whether the soldiers around them marked that armor, whether Chaol recognized it, no one said a word.

"Ready now," Chaol called out to the men of his keep.

This would be it—today. Whether that hope remained or fractured.

Already, the awakening sky revealed two siege towers being hauled toward them. Right to the wall. Far closer than Rowan had last noted when flying overhead last night. Morath, it seemed, had not been sleeping, either.

The ruks would remain back with their own army, driving Morath to the keep. To be picked off here, one by one.

"We have minutes until that first tower makes contact with the wall," Gavriel observed. A scan of the battlements, the soldiers atop them, revealed no sign of Aelin. Lorcan indeed muttered, "Someone better tell her to stop primping and get here." Rowan snarled in warning.

"Archers!" Chaol's bellow rang out. Behind them, down the battlements, bows groaned. Fenrys unslung the bow across his back and nocked an arrow into place.

Rowan kept his own bow strapped across his back, the quiver untouched, Gavriel and Lorcan doing the same. No need to waste them on a few soldiers when their aim might be needed with far worse targets later in the day.

But one of them had to be noted felling soldiers. For whatever it would do to rally their spirits. And Fenrys, as fine an archer as Rowan, he'd admit, would do just fine.

Rowan followed the line of Fenrys's arrowhead to where he'd marked one of the bearers of a siege ladder. "Make it impressive," he muttered.

"Mind your own business," Fenrys muttered back, tracking his target with the tip of his arrow as he awaited Chaol's order.

If Aelin didn't arrive within another moment, he'd have to leave the battlements to find her. What in hell had held her up?

Lorcan drew his ancient blade, which Rowan had witnessed felling soldiers in kingdoms far from here, in wars far longer than this one. "They'll head for the gates when that siege tower docks," Lorcan said, glancing from the battlements to the gate a level below, the small bastion of men in front of it. Trees had been felled to prop up the metal doors, but should a solid enough group of enemy soldiers swarm it, they might get those supports and the heavy locks down within minutes. And open the gates to the hordes beyond

"We don't let them get that far," Rowan said, eyeing up the massive tower lumbering closer. Soldiers teemed behind it, waiting to scale its interior. "Chaol brought the tower down the other day without our help. It can happen again."

"Volley!" Chaol's roar echoed off the stones, and arrows sang.

Like a swarm of locusts, they swept upon the soldiers marching below. Fenrys's arrow found its mark with lethal precision.

Within a heartbeat, another was on its tail. A second soldier at the siege ladder fell.

Where the hell was Aelin—

Morath didn't halt. Marched right over the soldiers who fell on their front lines.

The pulse of human fear down the battlements rippled against his skin. The cadre would have to strike fast, and strike well, to shake it away.

The siege tower lumbered closer. One glance from Rowan had him and his friends moving toward the spot it would now undeniably strike upon the battlements. Close enough to the stairs down to the gate. Morath had chosen the location well.

Some of the soldiers they passed were praying, a shuddering push of words into the frigid morning air.

Lorcan said to one of them, "Save your breath for the battle, not the gods."

Rowan shot him a look, but the man, gaping at Lorcan, quieted.

Chaol ordered another volley, and arrows flew, Fenrys firing as he walked. As if he were barely bothered.

Still, the whispered prayers continued down the line, swords shaking along with them.

Up by Chaol, the soldiers held firm, faces solid.

But here, on this level of the battlements ... those faces were pale. Wide-eyed.

"Someone better say something inspiring," Fenrys said through gritted teeth, firing another arrow. "Or these men are going to piss themselves in a minute."

For a minute was all they had left, as the first siege tower inched closer.

"You've got the pretty face," Lorcan retorted. "You'd do a better job of it."

"It's too late for speeches," Rowan cut in before Fenrys could reply. "Better to show them what we can do."

Rowan steadied his breathing, readying his magic to rip through Valg lungs. He'd fell a few with his blades first. To show how easily it could be done, that Morath was desperate and victory would be near. The magic would come later.

The siege tower groaned as it slowed to a stop.

Just as the wall under them shuddered at its impact, Fenrys whispered, "Holy gods."

Not at the bridge that snapped down, soldiers teeming in the dark depths inside.

But at who emerged from the keep archway behind them. What emerged.

Rowan didn't know where to look. At the soldiers pouring out of the siege tower, leaping onto the battlements, or at Aelin.

At the Queen of Terrasen.

She'd found armor below the keep. Beautiful, pale gold armor that gleamed like a summer dawn. Holding back her braided hair, a diadem lay flush against her head. Not a diadem, but a piece of armor. Part of some ancient set for a lady long since buried.

A crown for war, a crown to wear into battle. A crown to lead armies.

There was no fear on her face, no doubt, as Aelin hefted her shield, flipping Goldryn in her hand once before the first of Morath's soldiers was upon her.

A swift, upward strike cleaved the Morath grunt from navel to chin. His black blood sprayed, but she was already moving, flowing like a stream around a rock.

Rowan launched into movement, his blades finding their marks, but still he watched her.

Aelin slammed her shield against an oncoming warrior, Goldryn slicing through another before she plunged the blade into the soldier she'd deflected.

She did it again, and again.

All while heading toward that siege tower. Unhindered. Unleashed.

A call went down the line. The queen has come.

Soldiers waiting their turn whirled toward them. Aelin took on three Valg soldiers and left them dying on the stones.

She planted her line before the gaping maw of that siege tower, right in the path of those teeming hordes. Every moment of the training she'd done on the ship here, on the road, every new blister and callus—all to rebuild herself for this.

The queen has come.

Goldryn unfaltering, her shield an extension of her arm, Aelin glowed like the sun that now broke over the khagan's army as she engaged each soldier that hurtled her way.

Five, ten—she moved and moved and moved, ducking and swiping, shoving and flipping, black blood spraying, her face the portrait of grim, unbreaking will.

"The queen!" the men shouted. "To the queen!"

And as Rowan fought his way closer, as that cry went down the battlements and Anielle men ran to aid her, he realized that Aelin did not need an ounce of flame to inspire men to follow.

That she had been waiting, yanking at the bit, to show them what she, without magic, without any godly power, might do.

He'd never seen such a glorious sight. In every land, every battle, he had never seen anything as glorious as Aelin before the throat of the siege tower, holding the line.

Dawn breaking around them, Rowan loosed a battle cry and tore into Morath.

This first battle would set the tone.

It would set the tone, and send a message.

Not to Morath.

Impress us, Hasar had said.

So she would. So she'd picked the golden armor and her battle-crown. And waited until dawn, until that siege tower slammed into the battlements, before unleashing herself.

To keep the men here from breaking, to wipe away the fear festering in their eyes.

To convince the khaganate royals of what she might do, what she could do. Not a threat, but a reminder.

She was no helpless princess. She had never been.

Goldryn sang with each swipe, her mind as cool and sharp as the blade while she assessed each enemy soldier, their weapons, and took them down accordingly. She dimly knew that Rowan fought at her side, Gavriel and Fenrys battling near her left flank.

But she was keenly aware of the mortal men who leaped into the fray with cries of defiance.

They'd made it this far. They would survive today, too. And the khaganate royals would know it.

Galloping hooves drowned out the battle, and then Chaol was there, sword flashing, driving into the unending tide that rushed from the tower's entrance.

"To Lord Chaol! To the queen!"

How far they both were from Rifthold.

From the assassin and the captain.

Arrows rose from the army beyond the wall, but a wave of icy wind snapped them into splinters before they could find any marks. A dark blur plunged past, and then Lorcan was at the siege tower's mouth, his sword swinging so fast Aelin could barely follow it. He battled his way across the metal bridge of the tower, into the stairwell beyond. Like he'd fight his way down the ramps and onto the battlefield itself. Below, a boom began. Morath had brought in their battering ram.

Aelin smiled grimly. She'd bring them all down. Then Erawan. And then she'd unleash herself upon Maeve.

At the opposite end of the field, the khagan's army pushed, gaining the field step by step.

Not helpless. Not contained. Never again.

Death became a melody in her blood, every movement a dance as the tide of soldiers pouring from the tower slowed. As if Lorcan was indeed forcing his way down the interior.

Those who got past him met her blade, or Rowan's. A flash of gold, and Gavriel had slaughtered his way into the siege tower as well, twin blades a whirlwind.

What Lorcan and the Lion would do upon reaching the bottom, how they'd dislodge the tower, she didn't know. Didn't think about it.

Not from this place of killing and movement, of breath and blood. Of freedom.

Death had been her curse and her gift and her friend for these long, long years. She was happy to greet it again under the golden morning sun.

[slovo-theshattered-onion]

people should start inventing their own numerologies and comparing notes. slash s r s

[none-tadashi-left-hiro]

hmmmm. Sad

[p4ranormaluv]

SOMETHING RED — 성훈

you thought when sunghoon finally found you he’d rip your guts out— but no! turns out he just wants to be in your guts.

PAIRING: ghostface!sunghoon x f!reader

GENRE: smut, thriller

CONTENTS: stalker ex!hoon, dom!hoon, sub!reader, autumn setting, murder, brief desc. of dead body, chase scene, dub-con, knife/fear play, blood/pain kink, injury, degradation/praise, petnames: bunny/sugar, rough sex, oral sex, hoon grips reader’s neck but no choking, hair pulling, spanking, size kink, orgasm control, fingering, squirting, over stim, creampie, one neck bite, passing out

WC: 5.1k

NOTE: spooktober fic #1 👻 yunah version of this fic here!

WARNING: i posted a yunah ver. of this fic under this account! so if it looks familiar that’s why! i don’t have any other accounts i post my works on currently, and if i do i will add them in my navigation or bio. if you see someone stealing my works please lmk.

you’re responsible for the media you consume! i tried to tag everything but there may have been things i missed.

COPYRIGHT OF @/P4RANORMALUV. IF YOU STEAL MY WORK I WILL FIND OUT & PUBLICLY CALL YOU OUT.

“i had a really good time tonight, y/n.” your date smiles as you stand at your front porch.

“yeah, me too.” you reply, and you’re telling the truth.

after almost 4 years since you fled away from your hometown, and your ex (sunghoon, or rather ghostface, as the civilians like to call him), you’ve finally gone on a date.

it honestly should have been perfect. it was a simple evening. you went for ice cream and afterwards walked around a nice park to talk and feed the ducks, appreciating the beautiful colors the trees are turning. your date is an absolute gentleman, he won’t stop smiling at you and laughs at all of your stupid jokes. he’s acted like nothing but an overall sweetheart the entire time.

and yet, that’s the very thing that was wrong with the date in your mind.

it was simple, perfect, sweet…

no tension or skip of your heart beat, no wondering what will happen next. there was just…no thrill.

you think sunghoon has really fucked you up. even after all this time you’re still comparing people to your ex. your crazy, obsessive, killer ex.

god, sometimes you even catch yourself wishing he’d pop up in your life again. but after you found out it was him who was killing all of the people in your life and town, anyone who he deemed as getting in the way of your relationship, you panicked and immediately called the police.

no one has seen him since, evidently. you certainly haven’t.

but do you really wish you would? if he saw you again he’d probably kill you.

“y/n?” your date says gently, breaking you out of your stupor as you blink at the man in front of you, noticing how he’s gotten significantly closer than when you last noticed.

your porch light’s obnoxious hum is the only other sound as he gazes at you, giving you a hopeful, prompting look— sort of like he’s expecting something. you think you know what it is, but you suddenly feel like you’ve turned to stone.

“we’ll go out again, right?” he whispers as his face inches closer and closer, smiling at you sweetly.

“i’ll— i’ll text you.” you vaguely answer.

your date laughs again even though you haven’t said anything funny, raising a single hand to gently hold your arm as he finally realizes he’s gonna have to take full initiative. puckering his lips, he leans into yours as he shuts his eyes. you don’t do anything except let your eyes bulge out of your skull, before at the last second turning your head, causing his kiss to land on your cheek instead.

he pulls away while blinking widely in surprise, before his cheeks bloom a pink blush and he laughs—…again. it’s starting to be less charming and more annoying.

“you’re so cute.” he says, thinking you’re just shy.

“goodnight, y/n. i’ll see you soon?”

“sure!” you lie. “goodnight!”

you wave before immediately shutting your door.

you sigh tiredly, appreciating the beautiful glow of the moonlight that gently illuminates your otherwise dark house.

flipping the switch that lights your stairs, wood creaking beneath your feet, you walk to your bedroom. the night’s air is fresh, and the soft sound of rustling leaves always helps you calm down. so you open your bedroom window, letting the gentle breeze spread goosebumps across your arms.

moving to your dresser, you grab a tank top and shorts along with some panties before going into the bathroom to take a shower. you sit your fresh clothes on the bathroom countertop, stripping off your dirty clothes and letting them pool at your feet.

when you get in the shower you feel your previous stress melt off of you with the warm water, all thoughts and worries forgotten— temporarily at least. after about twenty minutes you step out, quickly wrapping a towel around you as the water dripping off your body and the chill in the air makes you shiver.

you move to grab your dirty clothes left on the floor to put them in the hamper, but your underwear is missing.

“what the heck,” you mumble to yourself, shaking out the clothing in your hands, checking if the item wasn’t just tangled amongst them.

“looking for these?” a voice— his voice— asks.

you gasp as your body jolts, feeling your heart spike in your chest when you look up to see ghostface standing at the bathroom’s open door.

he’s wearing his mask, signature big butchers knife in his hand as he twirls around your panties from it’s sharp point.

and…blood.

blood is on his hands and dripping off the weapon’s edge.

“y’know, i expected you to still be anxiously locking all the entrances of your house for a while longer, but you stopped only a year into moving here…” he thinks aloud with sarcastic wonder, lifting up his mask to let his eyes drink in the image of you clutching your towel to your chest.

sunghoon lets your panties slip off the knife and drop back onto the floor before stepping closer to you.

he moves slowly, making your panic worsen as he corners you into the bathroom like prey. a small, frightened noise comes from your chest when your back hits the wall, sunghoon’s face closer than ever as you watch his lips raise into a smirk.

“can you tell me why that is, bunny?”

your body trembles at the nickname that hasn’t been directed to you in years.

sunghoon started calling you that after one of the first dates you went on, the two of you watched a scary movie and you criticized the characters who were so easily killed.

“do you think you could do any better?” sunghoon had asked, smiling at you patronizingly yet fond.

“well, yeah? they always get killed cus’ they do something stupid. like lock themselves in one room or crawl through a fucking cat door.”

“and what would you do?”

“run.” you had simply answered.

“well?” sunghoon drawls, hot breath puffing into your face as he stands practically against you.

his knife is still raised, gently grazing the tip over your cheek as his eyes follow the movement.

“who’s blood is that?” you struggle out, feeling the crimson liquid trickle down your neck.

“drop your towel.”

“w— what?”

“i said drop your fucking towel, y/n.” he grits, moving the knife to apply harmless pressure to your neck— but it’s there, and it’s threatening.

the damp fabric lands with a thump on the tile floor, leaving your nipples to harden from the bite in the air.

“should have left that window fucking shut…” you whisper, but sunghoon catches it with his close proximity.

he steps back just enough to run his perverted eyes all over your body, weapon moving from your neck down to your breasts.

you inhale shakily, sunghoon chuckling under his breath.

“yes, you should have. although it wouldn’t have mattered. i came in through the front door that you also conveniently forgot about.” he replies to your statement. “which brings me to my question that i asked first, why have you been leaving everything unlocked, y/n?”

you glare up into his eyes with wavering bravery, sunghoon finding you to look more like a scared, defenseless animal.

you don’t speak, trembling lips pressing into a thin line. sunghoon slides the flat of his knife over your nipple, spreading the leftover blood across your skin and causing you to flinch as a small moan escapes you.

“you missed me.” he states with suffocating confidence, seeing right through your facade— knowing how you really feel.

“you still love me. don’t you, bunny?”

he presses his chest against yours, the rough material of his shirt giving stimulation to your sensitive nipples as he moves the weapon back up towards your face. the steel blade swipes across your mouth, staining your lips red.

sunghoon tugs down your bottom lip with his thumb, rubbing slowly side to side before pushing inside your mouth. you take it without thinking, staring up into his eyes as you suck on his appendage, wincing at the steely taste of blood.

“still such a slut.” he marvels fondly, eyelids drooping as his breath gets a little heavier. you bob your head just slightly, like you would do to his cock, and sunghoon reacts with a groan. your pussy clenches at the sound.

“well, you didn’t exactly answer my question, bunny. but since you’re so cute and helpless right now, i’ll have some mercy and answer yours.”

he pulls his thumb back and you don’t release it until it comes out with a wet pop, sunghoon groaning lowly before slamming his lips onto yours. he swallows your moans as his empty hand roams your body, fingers feathering over your bare pussy, trailing up to grope roughly at your breast before firmly wrapping around your throat.

you squirm. any shame has left your mind as you try and rub your cunt up onto sunghoon.

he’s playing nice for now it seems, pressing his jean clad thigh between your legs and letting you hump against him. you whine into his kiss as the denim makes contact with your clit, biting on sunghoon’s bottom lip unconsciously in pleasure.

he grunts at the slight pain, slapping your ass before gripping it roughly and digging his nails into your flesh.

you lick his bottom lip and suck on his tongue in apology, sunghoon’s nails retracting to rub soothingly over the skin that is now littered with red crescent cuts.

“god, i love you, bunny.” he groans lowly. “it’s your date’s blood.”

“h— huh?” you gasp, eyes widening as sunghoon stares deeply into your eyes. “you…did you kill him?”

“do you care?” sunghoon quips back cockily, but you recognize the tinge of jealousy in his tone. “he was too soft for you anyway. you like it when someone is rough and makes you feel dominated, don’t you? someone big enough to overpower you?”

he speaks in a dark tone, hand gripping your hip with possessiveness that’s sure to leave a bruise.

your breathing picks up again, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotions— though you’re not sure what any of them are.

“fuck you, sunghoon.” you spit, the man maniacally laughing with clear amusement.

“sure, sugar, later. right now i think i’m in the mood for a chase.”

he says this as he steps away from you, leaving you confused as he stares at you expectantly.

“well?” sunghoon lifts a brow, lowering the mask to cover his face completely again, gripping his knife a little tighter. “run, bunny.”

fear settles its anchor in your stomach and you take off like a bullet, water and blood dripping from your naked body as you run down the stairs. there’s only the sound of your panicked gasps of breath before ghostface’s heavy footsteps creak down the steps, coming right after you.

your first thought is to go the front door, but when you open it you're greeted with the massacred body of your date sitting in a bloody, gutted heap of red and pink mush.

you scream, immediately slamming the door shut as you choke on a gag that tickles up your throat.

ghostface makes it down the stairs, taking large but calm steps towards you as his knife gleams in the moonlight, black plastic eyes staring blankly at you.

“stop!” you cry, suddenly thankful for the wrap around layout of your house as you run right, out of the livingroom and into the hallway.

you can go to the kitchen, bedroom, or second bathroom.

everything is a dead-end except the kitchen, which has two escape routes to the outside: a latch window and the back door.

you quickly open the bedroom door to throw ghostface off and quietly sneak into the kitchen.

risking taking the time to carefully open a drawer and take a knife out— just in case, you then hurry over to the back door and turn the knob.

there’s the sound of something slicing through air before you yelp as it cuts into your hand, forcing you to jump away from the door.

“i wouldn’t do that if i were you.” ghostface warns as he walks in, creepily melodic with how he speaks.

you look back at the doorknob, seeing his knife stabbed into the wood from the force ghostface threw it with, your blood splattered in a small area against the white paint.

“now look at that, you made me hurt you.” he says with mocking sympathy, his dangerous tone making your knees feel weak with fear.

you keep switching your eyes from looking at the window to ghostface.

he just stands, watching with undivided attention as he can practically see the cogs turning in your brain, waiting for what you’ll do next like he’s watching a mouse in a trap. (or a bunny in a snare.)

you suddenly run out of the kitchen’s second entry, ending up at the living room again and booking it up the stairs. you wouldn’t have had time to make it out the kitchen window with ghostface right there, but maybe you can escape through your bedroom window. it’s already open, and even though your house is two stories, there’s a tree right next to it that will shorten the drop— if you can reach a branch without falling off the roof.

when you get to your bedroom ghostface is hot on your trail. you try to slam the door shut and lock it, but he presses against it from the other side right at the same time.

you push as hard as you can to shut the door, but ghostface has always been much stronger than you.

busting the door open, your body is flung backward as you land on the floor, knife falling out of your hands and sliding away from you.

you scramble on the ground to get it back, just barely grasping it in your hand before ghostface grabs and flips you over onto your back, ripping his mask off and letting it clatter to the floor.

“s— stop it, sung— sunghoon.” you struggle to get out from how your body and voice shakes, pressing your legs together in fear and ignoring the wetness between them as sunghoon cages your body with his limbs.

“oh, are you going to make me?” he challenges with no fear, the smile on his face clearly expressing that he doesn’t take a word you say seriously.

“go on then, bunny. take a stab at me.”

sunghoon drops his own knife from his hands, baring himself to your mercy.

your eyes widen, hands shaking as you pathetically raise the knife.

you look from his eyes to his vulnerable stomach that you could easily plunge the weapon into, and back up to his eyes again.

sunghoon slenders his gaze at you, as if to say ‘you can’t do it, can you?’.

you burst into sobs, dropping the knife and hiding your face in your hands.

sunghoon leans down to coo at you, running his fingers through your hair and kissing your forehead.

“i knew you couldn’t do it, bunny. i’ve been watching you ever since you left town, and you know what i found out?”

you take watery gasps, wiping off your tears so you can look up at sunghoon.

you know the answer, even in your messy state. it’s apparent throughout everything in your life, after all these years and all the decisions you’ve made.

“i—…that i n— never stopped loving you.”

“that’s right, sugar. couldn’t even bear to kiss your date, could you?”

you shake your head, cries reducing to sniffles as sunghoon cups your face with his still bloodied hands, the liquid beginning to dry as it feels tacky on your skin.

“it’s okay, bunny. you were a good girl, so i won’t punish you…too much. as for him— well,”

he laughs, but it sounds hollow, devoid of anything other than hate and rage. “he got what he deserved.”

suddenly sunghoon is picking up his knife and hoisting you up, your waist thrown over his shoulder as you gasp in surprise while he walks over to the bed.

sunghoon takes a handful of your ass, admiring how it jiggles when he jostles it in his hand before giving it a hard spank. you whimper and push back into his palm, wordlessly asking for more.

“slut.” he chuckles under his breath, throwing you roughly on the mattress a second later.

sunghoon places his knife on your nightstand as you sit up on your elbows to look at him curiously. he practically devours your body with his eyes as he strips off his shirt, your mouth watering at the revealed expanse of his tapered waist and sculpted abs. you can’t help but whine when he slowly pushes the waistband of his pants and underwear down, hard, huge cock slapping against his stomach wetly.

“missed this, bunny?”

you only whine, feeling like the desparate whore that you are for sunghoon as you blatantly squeeze and rub your thighs together, trying to bring any sort of relief to your needy pussy. you practically feel edged by everything that’s transpired so far.

“come.” sunghoon orders, pointing at the floor in front of him.

you know what that means, quickly getting off the bed and on your knees, looking up at him with pathetically begging eyes. he only acknowledges you with a piercing stare, picking up his knife again as he moves it beneath your hairline, pressing the cold, flat side of its blade into the nape of your neck.

“now suck.”

you’re eager, enveloping his dick into your watering mouth and pushing yourself as far down the long shaft as you can muster. you gag, sunghoon’s salty pre-cum making you salivate for more as you don’t pull off, only trying to push his cock deeper down your throat.

even as your eyes squeeze shut, choking around him— you don’t stop.

not until sunghoon roughly pulls you off by the hair, a deep sound coming out of you as your mouth is suddenly empty, gasping and coughing while a string of saliva hangs from your lips.

“did i say swallow me whole? dumb whore. suck.”

you immediately do as he says, apologizing with your eyes and pliant little hums around him as you envelope just the tip in your mouth, sucking on it delicately like a lollipop.

sunghoon bares his teeth at the teasing pleasure, watching your lips that are glossy with your own spit prettily wrapped around his big dick. you look so small and helpless like this: kneeling, naked, someone else’s blood drying on your body— as well as a little of your own.

sunghoon thinks you’re most beautiful like this. his slutty little bunny trapped in the snare he’s made just for you.

grabbing a painfully tight fistful of your hair, he slams your face against his pelvis. you’re reduced to choking sounds and sputters as you struggle to take the sheer size of him into your mouth, sunghoon continuing to catch you off guard as he starts bobbing your head up and down his shaft like a cock sleeve.

you cry and moan at the feeling of him using you like a cheap whore, your pussy throbbing with the need to be touched but being ignored— and it only turns you on that much more.

your scalp burns as sunghoon keeps yanking you by the hair, spit seeping out of the corners of your stretched lips and running down your chin.

“almost forgot what a dirty slut you could be, bunny. f— fucking shit!”

hearing sunghoon’s hard resolve crack, you’re hit with another wave of enthusiasm.

you swallow around him, doing your best to lick and suck whenever you get the chance between the harsh movements he controls you with. then you have an idea, and without a second thought you’re executing it.

moving a hand down to your pussy, you smear the generous wetness on your fingers, lifting them up to cup sunghoon’s balls, fondling them with ease thanks to your slick.

“god— fuck! good girl! that’s a good little whore. choke on my dick while you make me messy.”

you feel like you could almost cum just from sunghoon’s words, the tingly pain at your scalp, and the full mouth of dick you’re taking. moans almost rhythmically come from your throat as your free hand goes down to rub desperately at your neglected clit, hips making trembling movements at the pleasure that’s not enough while at the same time being too much.

“bunny, oh— damn. you really like me fucking your mouth, don’t you sugar?”

“mm—hmm,” you moan around him, sunghoon starting to snap his hips more aggressively. you feel his dick pulse in your mouth, a deep growl coming from him a moment later, signaling his soon release.

“you ready for me, bunny? you ready for my cum?”

please, please, yes— you want to say, but it only comes out as whimpers as his cock bruises the back of your throat.

your thighs begin to tremble as you feel yourself getting closer. sunghoon moans out, pressing his hips flat against your face as his dick throbs, pumping a huge load down your throat. that paired with the feeling of his knife pressing harder into your neck sends you into white hot ecstasy, shaking like a leaf and thighs clenching around your own hand as you ride it out on your soaked fingers.

sunghoon’s dick is dripping with your spit and his cum when he pulls out, still hard as a rock and catching his breath as he slowly jerks himself off, wincing at the painful pleasure after just cumming— but not able to stop as he’s mesmerized by how much of the both of you there is, mixing all together with each movement of his hand.

sunghoon then looks over at you just as you’re pulling your hand away from yourself, groaning as he sees the wet webs between your fingers.

“get on the bed, bunny. ass up.”

your movements are clumsy as you’re still weak from the hard orgasm, but you want more, so you do as he says. sunghoon gives you a helping hand, making sure you don’t fall as the both of you get on the bed.

sunghoon sits up on his knees behind you. your ass looks amazing in this position, and your legs are spread, completely unable to hide your dripping pussy from sunghoon’s hungry eyes.

you turn your head, looking back at him with fucked out eyes that ask for more. he smirks, placing both hands on either side of your hips before stooping low to go down on your sloppy cunt.

“oh— fuck, su— sunghoon!”

you’re so turned on, and if you really think about it (which you’re trying not to), you probably shouldn’t be— not after what he’s done.

and yet, here you are, whining like a whore as the ghostface killer fucks your pussy with his tongue.

he can’t get enough of your taste. he’s went years without it after all, and sunghoon finds he’s going feral now that you’re finally in his mouth again. he delves his tongue as deeply as it can go, paying attention to what movements make you cry louder. sunghoon makes sure to pull out and suck your puffy clit between his lips, proud at himself with how it makes your legs quiver, before shoving his appendage back inside your core and fucking it in and out of you.

“hoonie, please,” you beg, already needing release as you’re sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“no,” he barks, annoyed that he even has to separate his mouth from your pussy to speak, reconnecting with you immediately after.

you dare to whine defiantly at him, and sunghoon reacts by reigning his hand down on your ass.

the hit is hard, making your eyes widen and taking your breath away as the strength he uses on you is unexpected. you can feel your skin tingling and hot from where the slap landed, and somehow it just makes you feel even more needy.

sunghoon knows you liked it, he can tell by how your pussy is contracting around his tongue, making him smirk against you as he keeps eating you out with no mercy.

you wiggle your hips just slightly, side to side, unable to keep still as you just need more.

you feel sunghoon’s annoyed growl, the vibrations of it sending a shock of pleasure straight to your core. he spanks you again, right on the same spot as before. this time a sob is ripped out of your chest at the pain, your face burying into the bed.

“you’re a bad fucking girl, can’t even do what i want you to.” sunghoon grits as he removes his mouth and shoves two merciless fingers inside you instead, roughly curving them as his thumb rubs at your clit. the amount of pain and pleasure is equal now, making you want to pull away while at the same time, push closer. the sounds your pussy makes as sunghoon quickly moves his fingers are loud and should be embarrassing— yet all you can think about is how good he’s making you feel and how badly you need to cum.

“hoon, i— really i can’t— can’t take it!”

“oh you’ll take it, bitch. if you want me to fuck you with my cock by the end of this.”

“no— yes! please, want your cock!” you blubber, the thought of not getting it making you feel as if you could cry at any moment, that paired with how meanly sunghoon treats your desperate little pussy, fucking it like he wants you to squirt all over the sheets— yet refusing to let you.

“i’ll be good, hoonie! i’ll let you do whatever you want, just— let me cum!”

the man doesn’t say anything, fingers not stopping as you feel his other hand’s nails dig into the flesh of your ass again, leaving more claiming cuts into your skin.

“fine, filthy slut. cum.”

the relief and pleasure of finally letting go is too much, your hearing is reduced to a high pitched ringing, and you’re not sure if your eyes are shut or if your vision has blacked out.

when you come back to, you’re on your back, sunghoon’s hands all over your body as the look in his eyes looks like he’s truly lost it.

“hoon, can’t,” you pant out as he starts lifting your limp leg to his shoulder.

but he doesn’t stop, his frantic movements continue, only looking up at you with pupils you swear are blown out.

“you’ll let me do whatever i want, remember?” he speaks out roughly, his throat scratchy either from eating you out so vigorously or from being so turned on.

“even if you didn’t let me, i’d still do whatever i want with you.” he cruelly chuckles, smirking down at you. the points of his teeth remind you of a wolf.

guess you really are the bunny.

you whimper— and you’re not sure if it’s from fear or twisted arousal.

tears fill your eyes as you watch sunghoon grab his huge cock, jerking it a few times to spread his cum. (not that he needs to— you literally just squirted.) you can only imagine how big the stretch will be inside your tiny little pussy to fit his huge girth. you’ve taken it before of course, but your insides are crying out in sensitivity, and your head feels foggy, like you could fall back out of consciousness again.

“please, hoonie, please—“

you’re words are cut off by your own agonized cry as sunghoon’s cock feels like it’s piercing your guts, pushing and pushing until he’s down to the hilt.

then he starts thrusting into you with enough power that it pushes your head against the headboard, your hands moving up to brace yourself as your hiked up leg tightens around his shoulder.

despite everything, you can’t help the delirious moan you let out, feeling your pussy ooze more fluids you didn’t think you had at this point.

“my slutty little bunny, huh, y/n?” sunghoon almost coos, if it wasn’t for how his teeth are harshly bared.

“missed my big dick abusing your insides, didn’t you, bunny?”

you sob, tears racing down your cheeks as your hole helplessly clenches and suffocates on sunghoon’s huge, unforgiving length.

“admit it. admit you’re a dirty whore for me.”

“i am— i am, hoonie!” you pant out breathlessly, each of his bruising thrusts feeling like they punch the breath right out of you. your chest aches from the big gulps of air you take. “m’a whore, such a dirty whore for you, sunghoon— fuck, please!”

sunghoon’s pants almost match up with your own, his body starting to tremble as he moves to lean down on his elbows against the bed, the new position forcing your leg to stretch even further— causing sunghoon’s cock to ram even deeper inside you.

“you’re mine. you hear me, bitch? you’re fucking mine! don’t ever think i’m gonna let you run away from me again.”

“oh god— i’m cumming!” you scream, unable to even ask for permission or try to hold back as your body convulses with the waves wracking over your body.

the only thing that keeps the darkened edges of your vision from completely taking over is sunghoon’s dick driving into you, chasing after his own high as your pussy spasms around him. you’re almost too tight, your core literally unable to take his huge size anymore as sunghoon forces his cock in again and again, balls slapping crudely against you.

when he finally busts inside, sunghoon clamps his teeth down on your neck, the sensations overwhelming him as he fucks you full of his cum.

he doesn’t pull out, even when your crying doesn’t stop, he keeps your poor abused pussy plugged up with his full load by his huge dick.

once sunghoon catches his breath, he glides his tongue across his teeth, curious at the taste of blood in his mouth.

“hoon, you bit me.” you whine, pouting at him as you try to look where his teeth left bloody marks into the junction of your shoulder.

sunghoon sighs, and you can tell by the noise and how his eyes flit over the wound excitedly that it turns him on.

his tongue licks over the bite in apology, cleaning up the blood before pressing little kisses all over it.

“you make me crazy, bunny.” he whispers lovingly, eventually pulling away from your shoulder to hover above your face.

you stare at each other silently, before you tilt your chin up, begging for a kiss with pouty lips and shiny eyes.

sunghoon smiles, those wolfish teeth still poking through slightly as he leans down to capture you in a slow, passionate kiss.

it tastes like blood and cum.

your blood and cum.

the realization frightens you only a little bit, the stronger emotion being some sort of sick arousal.

sunghoon might be crazy over you, but he’s definitely made you crazy as well.

REBLOG/COMMENT TO MAKE AUTHOR SMILE

NOTE: divs by adornedwithlight