#i love my friends bc they dont care they never say anything

[jrueships]

r u the grew up poor never being able to buy the little things in life u always wanted as a kid so now u buy whatever little thing u want as an adult and struggle with saving for the big mandatory thing,

or the grew up poor never being able to buy the little things in life u always wanted as a kid so now u just never buy anything small bcs u had to learn to live without it and constantly try to save for the next big thing in 500 yrs

[nomairuins]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[salsflore]

[clubpenguist]

friendly reminder that even if youre open about something on your blog, even if you think its so obviously right in your about/description/pinned/whatever, most of the people who will interact with you are not even looking that far at your blog. they dont know your name or your pronouns or your disabilities or your interests or your credentials or whatever you think is just *so obvious* that they *must* be intentionally ignoring it just to hurt you. ESPECIALLY not if theyre a random stranger who youve never interacted with once before, has never interacted with you once before either, and has absolutely zero reason to care about you. its not a personal attack, its just a fact. this is literally the internet

[mrfoox]

Each and every time I think I'm over a person, I see them or hear them and im like... Shit no they're still the cutest, I wish I could be their silly gf /:

[bpdbunnyy4ngel]

i feel absolutely awful and idk how to do this

[radiotorn]

i used to be their smiley :((((((

[the-cooler-king]

Oh yeah..... midnight gospel be hitting.... sitting in my bed fuckin. Crying. Get a grip girl

[sleepintro]

yk sometimes i wish i hadnt changed schools and moved here. maybe i shouldve studied in my old school itself any maybe suffered. that way id have less people to miss and grieve. ..

[gaystardykeco]

fun wednesday night activity: thinking about all the ppl who left me and how much better their lives are because of doing so

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Post war/coma comic about Gai struggling with his recovery

Since tumblr hates long form comics, I have to split this into 2 bc its 36 images. This is the first part, part 2 i'll either do as a reblog or a separate post right after this, stay tuned! Links to support me in pinned post <3

tw: s*icidal thoughts, injury, a little blood

Bisuke: Gai's Back!

Gai: GRAAH!

Kks: Im home Gai: Welcome back Kks: [wheels rolling] Hey,

Kks: Ga-!? Gai: Im fine. The tile is cool on my face. Kks: Wanna go lay down in bed? Gai: I am so /sick/ of lying down. Kks: Ok. What do you want for supper?

Gai: You're not going to comment? Kks: I already know what happened. You overdid it again. I should be able to keep up with chores, kakashi. Kks: You can. Just don' bull through it all in one go. Do you want to end up in the hospital again? Gai: Please don't. Kks: I know sitting still is hard for you, and "too much" is in your DNA, but you have to take this slow so you don't exacerbate your injuries, Gai. You went from hyper-aware to pretending your body limits dont exist. Gai: Like you haven't done the same.

Gai: You've proved your point. Kks: It's not about that. And you've dragged me to bed and out of bed repeatedly when I needed it. You were burning alive from the inside. Tsunade told you your immune system is out of whack. You need to take it easy. /I/ know you're capable, but are you trying to prove to /yourself/ you are? Gai: You want me to admit my embarrassment? Kks: If something serioud happens, You'll be even more embarrassed then

Gai: How could you possibly know how I FEEL?! How could you EVER KNOW HOW I FEEL?! Kks: I DON'T! But I've /been/ the one ouking and sobbing on your bathroom floor because I couldn't take living anymore! And I don't want that for YOU!

Kks: I'm sorry, Gai. Gai: I'm sorry

Kks: I can't stand knowing you're in pain, and I can't get you help. If there was a way, I'd do anything. Gai: You do so much to help me already.... And I yelled at you Kks: I've screamed at you so much, that was pretty tame. I wish I was like you with things like this. Not great with what to say...... But I can listen.

Gai: I hate feeling so weak. I'm tired all the time, in constant pain, I can't even walk-..... I can tell tenten and the boys worry despite my efforts to appear positive. Kks: They're just not sure how to react. They know you hate being babied, but don't want to push you into hurting yourself. You hate being told you can't do something. They love you. You get stronger everyday, everyone is cheering you on.

Gai: I know it's irrational, but... I feel like you gave up the Hokage position to take care of me. Kks: Haa!? I'm grateful if anything. I'd be retired too if I could. That'd be amazing. I'm dreading just helping Tsunade but as long as you're by my side, I'll be fine. We're still equals, rivals, friends, partners

Gai: Even if I can't- Kks: /Always/ wil be, dickhead. Gai: You worry about me hurting myself? Kks: I know you think about it

Kks: We're the same in that regard Gai: I would never act on this, please believe me, these thoughts are rare........... Kks: It's ok, Gai. Gai: Sometimes I think i should have just died. I feel so out of place on the streets I used to feel so at home at. I never asked to live. I didn't plan to. I just don't know how to-...

Kks: I understand that. Though, dying didn't feel any better. Gai: I know I didn't fully pass like you did. I didn't see papa. Just for a moment, I wish I could have seen him.

Kks: As much as I'm sure he wants to see you again, It's too soon. Dai'd slap the shit out of you for wanting to waste your youth just to see him. Gai: [chuckle] probably. Kks: I have those thoughts less and less now, but they're still there. "why am I the one who survives?" "Burden" "Gai will come to his senses eventually"

Gai: FALSE!! None of my grief is with you! I love living here with you! My love for you only burns hotter each day! You're so lovely inside and out! Kks: Maa What did I do to deserve such praise from teh mouth of the hottest man in Konoha?? Gai: YOU STILL THINK I'M HOT?! Kks: YOU-! [CACKLE]

Kks: Your bad taste is the only reason I had a chance before someone snatched you up. Gai: The worst. Kks: Thought we'd irritate eachother, but it's been pretty smooth. Even though you still get played by the dogs. Gai: You really wanna throw those stones?

Gai: They play you just as easily. don't lie. Kks: My point is, whatever you need from me, you have it. No questions asked. Even if you yell and scream, i can take it. You held me together when I was unraveling, and I'll never forget it. Didn't trust anyone else to see me like that. Broken

Gai: I never saw you as that. Kks: I'll never see you as that

[moonflowersnightdream]

.

[soobnny]

dating him | hwang hyunjin

❝ i’ve never seen anything quite like you, my love ❞

chan | lee know | changbin | HYUNJIN | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

hopeless romantic hwang hyunjin

love is beautiful and brilliant hwang hyunjin

yall cannot convince me that he isn’t the BIGGEST lover

romance is in his blood

he is so fascinated by it

so, for that reason, i feel like dating him would be like the love you read about or watch in movies

bc hyunjin would b the type to consume so much of romantic media

it’s where he learned everything from

wow what a dream

he strikes me as the type to fall in love with every little thing too

his eyes is just a lens of romance

and it’s set on YOU

every single love language he has it .. but here are some specifics

love language #1 gift giving

hyunjin is a traveler okay

and in every trip, he always has something to give you

keychains, t-shirts, bags, jewelry, stickers, refrigerator magnets, pins, you name it

even u have to remind him not to go all out sometimes

bc when that boy splurges, he SPENDS

esp for u ? he would spoil u in a heartbeat

he always makes sure he leaves a day of his travels dedicated to u and thinking about u

on that note, he tends to buy u guys matching items

matching phone cases, matching rings, matching scrunchie

whatever u can get that’s matching

he WILL get it

it excites him too

he loves being able to tell the world how in love he is

wait side note

whenever he’s traveling, he’s always just instinctively thinking about you

he buys this bagel for breakfast, oh ???? like hey guys yn loves bagels too

and the boys r like WE KNOWWWW 😭

everything is about u quite literally

ok continuing on

and he gifts u his art too

his art is very important to him

and he has found lately, u are the one person littering his sketch books

oh he’s down bad

i think for ur anniversary, he’d paint the constellations of how the stars looked that night and aligned perfectly

or his favorite picture of you

down bad that he also buys u a shit ton of dresses

and lingerie ………….

look he knows his fashion

he knows what looks great

u can’t blame him for buying what he knows will look so pretty on you

(he’d probably give u his card one time and say “go crazy” like wow he’s packed)

#2 quality time

i think his favorite dates would also be expensive

he just can’t help himself

BUT u know he has a sweet spot for self care dates too

spa days are very important to him

loves being able to relax and unwind with u

he especially loves when u play with his hair and when u paint his nails

one time, u caught him stealing one of your nail polishes

would also be the type to bring some bit of you in his travels

like ur perfume or ur shampoo

anything that’ll remind him of u

tho ur scent is his favorite

hence why he goes for perfumes or soap or shampoos bc u feel closer to him this way

he just loves being with u even if both of u are doing nothing

just like that bruno major song

conversations where u lose track of time

conversations as in talking shit about the people you hate together

😭😭😭😭

i think he’d want to paint with u

he’d be so shy to ask you too

just simple things

that cute date idea where you swap paintings every 5 mins or something

when u showed him that tiktok, he jumped in excitement

he wanted to do it right away

he prepares everything

he has both ur paintings framed in his room

it’s his most prized posession

oh, and he always invites u to game nights with the boys

he is SO competitive at monopoly

he couldn’t give two shits about other games

u don’t know why he gets so worked up with monopoly

“SEUNGMIN DONT DO IT SEUNGMIN!!!!”

it’s actually rly funny

he would be the type to take revenge

“you’re gonna regret buying a house there”

would cheer if his friends go to jail in the game or if they go bankrupt

doesn’t even try to hide it

and if he’s playing as the banker, he’d slip in extra bills for you

#3 words of affirmation

tho usually said when he thinks u’re asleep

he’s thankful that u take care of him when he forgets to

esp when he’s so immersed in his art

he whispers words of love

like poets and authors in books

he is just so full of love i can’t say it enough

physical touch except instead of touch, he loves kissing you

LIPS AND NECK ESPECIALLY

those are his top 2

he uses tongue 😕 sorry to break it to u

and he also leaves hickeys

so don’t run out of concealer okay!!!!!!! bc he tends to leave like a lot

before i end

here r some more dates he loves

botanical gardens

he’d pick a flower and place it behind your ear

now it’s his lockscreen

sunday markets

he loves the domesticity of shopping together

he buys u lots of flowers

every single type

u think he’s given u all types already

there is never a day where ur apartment doesn’t have flowers in a vase

bc as soon as the first sign of death arrives, he’s off to buy u new ones

he strikes me as the type to also go all out for valentines

hyunjin would send u mounts of chocolates and flowers

take u out to the fanciest date

u get to try new food and cuisines bc of him!

might even buy plane tickets so u two could travel together

maaaaaaaan just treasure everything

a love like hyunjin’s is hard to come by

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[mrfoox]

Bruh... Discussing anything with Oliver is so fucking juicy. The diffrent perspectives im getting man

[prince-jjae]

heh, so for kinktober or just a regular fic atp. Can u do toxic relationship w/ yeonjun. Like reader and yeonjun are in a situationship and yeonjun says that him and reader can’t have any strings attached if they’re just gonna have sex. But like reader rlly doesn’t care so they just keep having one night stands with random people at the club. And one day, yeonjun catches her and gets jealous and BOOM raw sex. But then angst bc reader says he doesn’t love her so they’re free to hit on whoever they want. So they argue and reader never sees yeonjun again. BUT LIKE IF U DON’T WANNA MAKE THIS ANGST THEN U CAN MAKE IT A HAPPY ENDING :3 heh, my brain is going brr brr rn. Ok ty! 💕

Escapism.

mdni, nsfw!!

pairings: choi yeonjun/reader

genre: smut, angst. hurt/no comfort??

warnings: fwb?yeonjun, meandom!yeonjun, mentions of beomgyu, mentions of club bathroom sex (Dont!), name calling (slut, whore, etc), unprotected sex (Dont! pt2), gender neutral reader but they have feminine anatomy, jealousy, anger, kinda dubcon if you think too hard about it, player!reader, if i forgot any lmk!

jjae's comments: this is.... insane. I sat down to write this thinking itd be like.. 1k? around the same length of my other fics? but no... welcome to 3k words of pure smut and sadness. i made yeonjun a lot more pathetic in this fic than i think the ask originally intended, but i hope it still reads well!! enjoy!

“No strings attached.” he had said. No strings attached. If that's what he wanted, then why was Yeonjun acting this way? He hadn't the faintest idea, but the sight of you dragging a puppy-looking guy to the bathroom with your finger hooked into the front of his jeans made his chest cave in.

He thought this was a good idea, months ago. Back when you were only focused on him with your puppy-crush. Maybe it was the power he held over you back then that convinced him to do this. The strength he had over your every move made his head too foggy with desire to see the fatal error of his ways. Back then you seemed like just a nerdy college student, out of place and quiet. Just his type. He was glad the work of approaching you had been done for him, smirking at the board with your name scrawled next to his. ‘Just how cliche would this get?’ He wondered at the time. It was practically fate. He spent weeks breaking through your cold and bitter exterior, dead-set on tasting the sweet softness that he knew you kept well-hidden. It was the thrill of the chase. The promise of something forbidden, off-limits. Sure, he could give any excuse he wanted, but getting into your bed with you was always his goal. You were a sweet poison, he soon found. You were the sweetest of nectars, yet shockingly deadly. He was in bed with you, his plush lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to your heated skin. He drank in the quiet whimper you let out when his teeth scraped at you with the sharp promise of his canines marring your soft skin. 

“No strings attached.” He had whispered to you huskily, and you dumbly nodded along, eager to please so he would keep going. So he would consume you like the fire you knew he was. He said it more for his own sake than yours, he thought. He knew from the first time he had you under him, obscene sounds coming from where your hips collided, mouth spilling rivulets of drool around his fingers which pressed and prodded at your tongue, that he was thoroughly fucked. 

But now, after months of being your.. What was the right word for it? Was this a situationship? Was he your friend-with-benefits? You two had never talked about it. Hell, you hardly did anything more than moan into each other's mouths and skin. Neither of you were next to one another by the time the sunshine graced your apartment windows. He knew better, now. If he was going to continue drinking in your poison by the mouthful, he needed to be careful. Precise, even. 

Yeonjun sighed, watching you go as he swirled the drink in his hand. You didn’t know he was there. You didn’t even see the text he had sent you 2 hours prior on your phone, you were too busy scanning the crowd. He had texted you the second he walked through the doors into the club he knew you frequented. He was perhaps a little desperate to see you, but he would never tell you as much. Hell, it was hard to even admit it to himself. He craved you like he craved air. 

But you didn't care. You didn't even react to the buzzing in your pocket, sharp eyes intent on finding your next victim. This club was your web, and you were a black widow. He hadn’t known it when he stumbled into your trap all those months ago, but you were vicious. You took control of him like a possession, the thrum of your power over him was buzzing under his skin constantly. Your kiss was a brand, ruining him for anyone or anything else. 

The great player, Choi Yeonjun, reduced to a simpering, desperate boy. How far he had fallen in pursuit of you.

He recognized the man you had picked - your victim for the night - as Choi Beomgyu. He was a friend of Yeonjun’s, actually. They bickered a lot, but they got along well enough. He recalls mentioning you to him before.. Had Beomgyu sought you out because of him? The thought made his stomach churn. Jealousy cut through him like a searing hot knife, the jagged edge catching his anger in just the right way. His eyes remained fixed on the bathroom door, sipping away at his drink the entire time you occupied it. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what you were doing in there, but he needed to see it. He needed to know that you were really doing this. 

He had no right to be jealous, he knew that. Rationally, realistically, this was none of his fucking business. He was the one who suggested you two wouldn’t be exclusive. Why should he be upset now that his own words were haunting him. Was it because he never expected to get this attached? Or was it the realisation that you didn’t feel the same? It was obvious that you didn’t care for him the way he cared for you. He could live with that, he thought. He could live with you not loving him back, but seeing you sneak off with someone new right before his very eyes? This was an anger he was unfamiliar with. He was never on the receiving end of this. Perhaps this was karma, finally catching up to him and providing him the pain he usually dished out freely. Perhaps he deserved this.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, makeup smudged and clothes wrinkled, his heart plummeted to the floor. He glanced behind you, watching Beomgyu walk out with a dazed look in his eyes, shirt halfway undone and hair a mess. You loved pulling on his hair when he gave you head, He thought. The memory of him being the one between your thighs finally snapped the cord in him. 

He slammed his drink down onto the table next to him, ignoring the way the other patrons flinched at the loud crack the glass made against the worn wood. He was already halfway across the floor. You didn’t even notice him until he was on you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the club with the shadow of his rage hanging over him like a cloud. He barely registered you tugging at his arm, trying to get him to let you go, trying to ask him what was going on. Your questions fell on deaf ears. He was on a mission as he dragged you to his apartment for the first time, only a few minutes walk away from the club.

He was going to prove he was better. No one else could have you the way he could. 

Yeonjun liked to believe that he was a gentle lover. That he could be mean when it was required or requested of him, but for the most part, he was a giver. Full of plush words and promises that usually held no actual weight. A phrase echoed in his mind at that, something about truth being singular, and lies being words, words, words. In that case, Yeonjun guessed he was a liar of a lover. It tracked, if he really thought about it. Like now, when he had you pressed into the door the second you two were beyond the threshold, kissing you like a man starved. His hands were possessive, gripping onto your flesh wherever he could. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove- actually, scratch that. He did know. He wanted to erase every memory of Beomgyu’s touch, He wanted to burn it away with his own until only his touch remained on your skin. 

You weren't sure where this animalistic side of Yeonjun came from, but you hardly had it in you to complain. You should probably push him away, demand answers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. The knowledge of this made yeonjun grin against your neck before sinking his teeth into the soft junction between the column of your throat and your shoulder, pulling a pleasured scream from your lips. He practically growled against the skin, fingers trailing down to push aside the skimpy shorts you wore. 

“You let him finish inside?” He grit out, fingers sliding easily through your soaked core. The sound of Beomgyu’s cum leaking onto Yeonjun’s hardwood floor should have made you embarrassed, but instead of shame burning through you, only lust remained. You shivered, nodding at Yeonjun like a bobblehead, mind swirling in the wake of his rough handling of you. He just laughed, but the chuckle he released was devoid of humour. He was angry. You let him fill you? Did you let anyone else do the same?

“Dirty fucking thing.” He spat at you before hauling you up, legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, flinging you unceremoniously onto the covers. You were still bouncing on the mattress from the sheer force he used to toss you onto it when he descended on you. He was all tongue, teeth and rage as he practically tore your clothes off of you. He hardly gave you any space to breathe, let alone think. Your mind was a useless puddle of mush as he manhandled you, adjusting your body the way he wanted. By the time you could gather the mental presence it took to move your eyes downward, His breath was already fanning hotly at your still-sore cunt. Your eyes widened comically, but he only laughed at you before diving in and eating you with the crazed frenzy of a man who had never eaten before in his life. He had to clean you, had to rid you of any evidence of his friend. You had to become pure again, only for him to defile you himself, make you his the way you had made him yours. He had to show you, even if he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. Surely, you'd understand, right? You understood him. He was sure of it.

Your hands instantly tangled in his silky locks, tugging harshly enough to pull a hiss from his lips the second his tongue made contact. You squealed, body still sensitive from your previous orgasm with Beomgyu, but Yeonjun didn’t care. He wasn't doing this for pleasure, he was doing this to make a point. To make you his. He ate you with fervor, a mix of your arousal, Beomgyu’s release and Yeonjun’s drool making his face a fucking sopping mess. It dripped onto the sheets below, but he paid it no mind, allowing you to rock your hips desperately on his tongue and nose as he worked you up again. You were sobbing, fat tears streaming down your face and clumping your pretty lashes together. All he could think about while you bumped your swollen clit against his nose was how badly he wanted to ruin you once he was done. Your wails and pleas fell on deaf ears. He had no plans on slowing down, giving you any breaks. You had teased him enough, he thought, parading around with Beomgyu’s cum still stuffed inside you. He was intent on replacing it with his own. When you finally came, sobbing out his name into the silent, cold air of his apartment, you collapsed, boneless onto the sheets. Your hand clasped at your naked chest, sweat cooling your skin as you scrambled to catch your breath. You couldn't remember a single time when Yeonjun behaved like this, did things like this, ate you like this. Sure, he loved having you on his tongue, but he was always so sweet, drawing out every little hum and movement out for your pleasure. This shift in his demeanour left you confused, for sure, but you found it so hot that you couldn't stop to ask any questions. Your eyes flew open again, desperately clawing at his arms when he shifted your body again. He lifted you with ease, flipping you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing. 

“Can't- jjunnie, please!” You cried, voice slightly muffled by the pillow he shoved your face into. He just sneered down at you, dragging his drooling cock through your soaked folds. He had no mercy for you, not anymore. He leaned down, smirking at the way your breath stuttered when the head of his cock caught your entrance. The feeling of his hot breath on your skin paled in comparison to the mean words he spat into your ear. 

“You’ll fucking take what I give you, slut.” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to feel any shame at his words. In fact, you revelled in them, pushing your hips back against him. It caught him by surprise, and you were so wet that he sunk into you with ease with that simple movement alone. A punched out groan fell from his pouty lips, one of his hands gripping your hip in a bruising hold. You were sure his fingertips would leave bruises for you to press on by tomorrow morning. 

“God- You’re so fucking desperate, arent you? Just got your pussy stuffed with cum and you're already begging for more?” He laughed, the sound mean and cruel in your ears as he set a brutal pace. You were so slick that the sounds that reverberated in yeonjuns bedroom was fucking obscene. You felt filthy, dirty, used- and you loved it. You weren’t sure how, but Yeonjun could tell. You knew he could. Maybe it was the way your walls fluttered helplessly around his fat cock, spearing into you with no mercy that gave you away. It didn’t matter, though. You hardly had the mental presence to care about anything beyond the way he stretched you out so so well. “Look at you, fucking pathetic. So eager for dick. Do I not give you enough? Huh? Do I need to stuff you full every hour of the day for you to be satiated?” 

All you could do was claw at his sheets, nodding pathetically along to his words. He scoffed, reaching up to grab your chin and forcing your mouth open. “Speak, whore.” 

You scrambled for words, but the syllables fell through your fingers like grains of sand. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, reminiscent of a fish out of water, before you finally managed out something akin to verbal language.

“Need- please- more- jjunnie-!” Your voice quickly dissolved into a chorus of pornographic ah, ah, ah-’s, and it sent a thrill through Yeonjun’s body. He was doing this to you. In this moment, right here in his bedroom, you were his. He shoved his fingers into your still open mouth, keeping your head thrown back as his hips ploughed into your sopping heat from behind. His thrusts were so intense they were punishing, sure to leave you sore and wobbly on your feet for days. Thinking about you stumbling around, needing his help to walk only made him growl and fuck you harder. He was far too drunk on you, on your moans, on your pussy. He couldn’t help himself.

“Need-? Getting fucked so good you cant speak, huh? Don’t worry, baby.” He grinned, but the smile was sharp and cheshire. It held no warmth for you, not that you could care or open your eyes long enough to even see it. You could feel it in his words, though, in the way he nibbled at your earlobe before shoving you down into the pillows again. “Daddy’s got you.”

He was entirely right, really. You were fucked positively stupid on his dick. You couldn’t deny that. In fact, you wouldn't. “Daddy-” you whined, voice barely audible over the lewd sounds of Yeonjun’s cock sinking into you and his hips snapping against the plush of your ass. “‘s fucking good- fuck!”

Yeonjun let out a breathless laugh before he pulled out of you. You hardly had time to whine at the loss, the aching empty feeling he left you with, before you were being moved again. Now you were on your back, and before you could even get your vision to focus on him, Yeonjun was already balls-deep in you again. With your head thrown back in bliss, throat bared for him, he couldn’t help but sneak down and leave angry, splotchy hickeys along your soft skin. 

“That’s right, baby- fuck… take it. Take it. Gonna fill you up better than he did- fuck!” His hips were beginning to stutter, but his mouth kept running. He was dissolving into horny babble, but he had the presence of mind to sneak his hand down, fingers drawing rough circles on your clit that had you spasming underneath him. 

He had slept with you enough times to know your tells, to know when you were going to finish. The way your head fell back, eyebrows drawn up, pretty lips making that pretty ‘o’ shape- the way you fluttered around him wildly, trying to milk him dry- you were close. He knew it. Just a few more thrusts, a slight change in angle and-

God, you were so beautiful when he had you like this, crying his name again, nails clawing uselessly against his back and leaving angry marks that he loved. 

“That’s it, baby- shit. Take it, slut. Fucking take it-!” He gripped your hips firmly in both hands, using them to move you on him. It made his thrusts hit deeper, and- God, were you squirting? If anything, the revelation only made him rougher with you despite your protests that you couldn’t take it, that you needed him to slow down. He wouldn’t, though. You knew he wouldn't. He only grabbed you harder, cock slamming into your cervix in a way that made you wince before he finally filled you, pressed as deeply into you as he could manage. He pressed into you over and over, as if trying to force his seed even deeper into you. As if he could fuck it right into your little womb. 

After a few more mean thrusts, you began to squirm and whine in his grip. Only then did he snap out of his jealousy-filled rage, looking into your eyes with his own so wide and pretty. There he was, that was closer to the Yeonjun you remembered. You smiled lazily at him, lifting your arms to him. With no prompting, he fell into your embrace. He peppered kisses along any skin he could reach, sighing happily into your skin when your fingers ran through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp in the way you knew he liked. You chuckled, but made no move to push him away. That was all he needed for hope to bloom in his chest again. You understood him, right? You knew what he was trying to do, what he needed. He needed you. He needed you more than air. He looked at you expectantly, hoping that you would say what he did not have the courage to. 

But you didn’t say anything. 

You didn’t say anything when he cleaned you up. You didn’t say anything when he carefully brought you to the bath he drew for you. You didn't say anything when he gently scrubbed your body. You didn’t say anything when he helped you back into your clothes. 

You only opened your mouth to deny him when he suggested you sleep over. He didn’t know his heart could shatter so easily with just a few words. He supposed he had this coming. Yes, he was right, earlier. This was karma for all his previous misdeeds. You were karma, and you were cruel.

“No strings attached, remember?”

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Hiiii!!!! Uuhh sorry I get a bit awkward to approach new people but oh my god I needed to say that I absolutely love your work!! Im truly a fan!! Your Fierce Deity fics bring me to life and I cant stop thinking about it <333

Not sure if this idea is interesting enough but I cant stop thinking about it and I thought you could maybe like it!!

I keep thinking about Reader talking with the Fierce Deity's mask (imagining he still sealed in the mask) like he was physically there, just rambling. We could show him the sky and the grass, mundane things, talk about our thoughts and ask questions to him, like what is it like to be a god and if he is happy with his life.

One question that also pops a lot in my mind is asking what gods thought of humans or maybe, what he thought of them, of us!! Ofc he doesnt respond bc he is inside the mask but then one day he is off of it and he remembers each and every question we ever asked, and is willing to answer them all NFKENFKWFKWKKFKWKDKW

Its just an idea, you dont really have to do it, but everytime I think about it or Fierce in general, I cant help but also think about you <333

Im really glad I found your work!! I hope we can be friends!! :DDD

I wish you a lovely day my little leaf!! Toodlessss 🍃🍃🍃

𖠰 Woods 𖠰

Okay first of all, this idea this absolutely amazing!! I'll have you know I was practically VIBRATING with excitement while reading this! You have no idea how stoked I am to receive asks like this, so do not feel bad at all for sharing! Also what we're literally already besties <3

Man In The Mask

Pairing: Fierce Deity x Reader

Warning(s): N/A

Masterlist

What are you?

It was a question the Fierce Deity had heard a thousand times, often accompanied by blood and blaze: a question of those he protected... and those he did not, whispered on the heels crimson-dripped lips and frightful eyes. He was a god of war, and thus not one to engage in the folly of mortals. Orders were his foundation, and steel his soul, wrapped in a righteous evil that not even the goddesses could bear to gaze upon.

Which is why he felt nothing short of hedonistic when it fell from the lips of the paltry mortal's holding the wretched mask that trapped him centuries earlier. Voice soft and eyes softer, touch featherlight on the chipped edges of his prison. There were thumbs on the apples of his 'cheeks', and the deity was caught between rage and sorrow. Tumultuous emotions were not his strong suit, and neither was restraint, from the way things were looking.

He didn't need to stand before them to feel their weakness, as was typical of most humans, but there was an ember in your eyes that seemed to burn with a light he didn't dare remember, shining like a beacon in the night.

"I wonder who painted you," the human, you, mused, stroking again over the half-glossed finish of the mask. Gentle, comforting, and utterly indecipherable to the deity inside. "You're so dusty; did Time even polish you?"

Why... Why was that relevant? Never in his wildest thoughts had the Fierce Deity expected Time to intrust his 'care' to a human, much less you. His very existence was a burden; how could a so-called hero willingly place something so... so destructive in the hands of, well, he considered you quite innocent to the tribulations of war and bloodshed and sorrow.

But what could he do but wait, snug under your arm, as you prattled on about anything and everything. The notion that you were naive enough to talk to a mere mask, of all things. Had you no sense? No discretion? It was a question he often asked himself, though only because there was no one else to answer.

That didn't stop his dull wonderings on whether you would ask such questions if he stood before you in the flesh. Would you cower? Fight? Flee? Perhaps he would remember the words that fell from your mouth, just to prove himself right once again.

***

The Fierce Deity mask weighed heavy in your hands as you plodded down the small path towards home. A thick forest bordered you from the east, while a blooming prairie stretched as far as the eye could see from the west. There was no doubt in your mind that you were incredibly lucky to live where you did, a fact that was only exemplified by the nine heroes that had crashed into your life (and living room) through a portal that looked straight out of Coraline or some shit.

Never in a million years would you have expected Time, the distrustful forest child he was, to entrust anything to you, much less a mask that supposedly held the spirit of one of the greatest entities of his world, but you supposed it was only proof that miracles did still exist. Maybe.

Either way, you had taken up the mantle of caring for the mask, and there was no way in hell you were going to screw up. Not that Time would let you, the worrywart, and you were only just beginning to catch him not staring holes into your back.

Chronic mother hens aside, it didn't take a genius to figure out there was something terribly wrong with the item tucked under your arm. Whether it was the crimson and navy facial markings or innocuous radiation of something akin to evil, you had no doubt that Time's warnings were not in jest.

Despite this, you couldn't quite shake the idea of a soul being trapped inside, well, the mask was practically a prison at this point. And maybe, just maybe, you felt a modicum of guilt at the entity's fate. Had he deserved it? Perhaps. Was it cruel? Without a doubt.

Which is why you found yourself taking the Fierce Deity's mask with you when you went to the store, or the library, or simply for a walk in the forest, tucked in your satchel to protect from prying eyes, though you always adjusted the cover so at least one of the eyeholes was free to gaze upon the wonders of your world. It was a small mercy that you were willing to afford, one that quickly spiraled into conversation with the mask itself. You always had a habit of speaking out loud, and now you, presumably, had an ear to listen.

But it was all speculation at this point; Time had never outright confirmed whether a living creature resided within the painted oak, only that it was imbued with an evil so ancient it could challenge the goddesses. You had stopped listening at that point, muttering 'drugs' under your breath, but there was always hope in your tone when you reminisced about the world around you.

With a sigh, you stopped, bringing the mask to the forefront of your vision, thumbs instinctually tracing the crimson stripes on the cheeks. It was baffling that something so beautiful could feel so wrong in your hands. You desperately wished to uncover the truth, to breathe in the big reveal and revel in the known mysteries of life.

"What are you?" The words slipped off your tongue like silk, right enough that you could have chalked it up to fate. The mask felt warm, basked in the fading rays of the golden sun, and you had the distinct feeling of being watched. The pads of your thumbs stroked the raised cheeks of the mask, disturbing a thin layer of dust, as more words spilled forth. "You're so dusty; did Time even polish you?"

It felt strange, talking to the mask as if it was a person, but you were too intrigued to care. If an entity truly resided within, you wondered what he thought of you. Was he impressed? Disgusted? Resigned? You had grown up with the belief that if gods truly existed, their disappointment would be without bounds, but that assumption didn't feel accurate when you stared at the shadowed skin of your palms through the eyeholes.

What horrors had a deity of this caliber seen through eyes of oak... and why were you so desperate to find out?

***

The Fierce Deity was convinced you were either crazy or stupid.

Night had fallen some time ago, filling your small quarters with only the pale light of the moon. His prison sat propped against the contraption you called a 'lamp', facing the bed in which you slept. Your nighttime routine was... unusual, to say the least. In his time, maidens wore long shifts to sleep, while here, you had treated him to the ludicrous sight of what could only be described as the shortest britches he had the displeasure of viewing and a sleeveless rag of a tunic that looked as though you wore it to a scuffle with a large animal, not to mention the sheer audacity you had to undress before the mask without regard for decency. Had the Hero of Time not informed you of his status in this wretched prison, because it was as though you had forgotten or simply didn't care at all?

Whatever the case, it was with much dread that the Fierce Deity only found himself more attracted to the mortal cursed with his care. Your life was, at most, mundane, yet you spoke as though every day was a great adventure, in a tone that could have inspired countless scribes into a flurry of activity. More shocking, however, was how he could feel himself clinging to your every word, like a dog waiting for scraps. He had been alone for so long, and the reality that a mere mortal considered him, well, mortal enough to converse with was a reality he never imagined contesting with.

But, despite how thrown off he was, there was a certain comfort in the quiet nights you spent together, however inadvertently they came to be. After a life of isolation, he found a purpose in the steady rise and fall of your chest, in the snorting giggles of your laughter, and the way you flipped the edge of your pack to grant him sight, never mind that he was fully capable of viewing the world without it. It was for that reason that the rage in his battered soul waned a fraction, leaving a sliver of room for whatever this was, and the reason his mind refused to release thoughts of your whispered queries, always centered on him, whether it be his health, status as a deity, or happiness.

Farfetched as it was, the Fierce Deity, god of war and blood and death, waited hours for you to wake, unblinking because he would be damned to miss the very moment of your return to the land of the living, the languid stretch your body performed as you groaned softly, rubbing the creases of your eyes with the same gentleness you treated him to. He would study the outfits you wore, committing them all to memory so he could better understand the core of who he considered to be his savior. Maybe then, when he was free, he could begin to repay your kindness–bit by bit, word by word–until distance became more of a myth that him, and your tender warmth could be validated by more than just a paltry mask. Your very breath became his meaning, your soul his muse, and the Fierce Deity was sure he would never forget it.

But in the meantime, perhaps he would remember the words that fell from your mouth, just to prove you right once again.

I can't begin to express how beautiful this felt to write. The Fierce Deity truly is my muse.

ALSO there will be a part two, so keep your eyes peeled!