#rock down scenario

[pillow-anime-talk]

music & vocaloids month ; third day.

synopsis: Being the manager of a six-member male group is not an easy thing. But you definitely wouldn’t trade your job for anything else!

# tags: scenario; manager/idol dynamic; manager!reader; caring!reader; fluff; comedy; mess & chaos; sfw

includes: female reader ft. rock down {vazzrock}

author’s note: manager!au? i’m in.

You sighed softly, rubbing both temples with your hands. The interview on the breakfast show was starting in a few moments, and most of the band were not ready and had the best time teasing each other or simply refusing to cooperate just like Ayumu.

As a experienced manager, you only looked at your smartwatch – five minutes and twenty-three seconds left, which is quite a lot of time, contrary to appearances. You immediately looked at Shou, who was the leader of this whole six-person kindergarten, and then at Gaku, who was by far the most thoughtful and calm of them all.

“... All right, guys. Focus, focus. Ruka, wear a waistcoat and pants. Don’t run around without clothes. You’ll still get sick.” You walked over to the young man, handing him his outfit for the day, then fixed his hair. “When the interview and performance are over, I’ll take you all out for a delicious dinner, so let’s be in tune tonight, shall we?”

“Yes, Y/N-san! Thank you~!” The man’s smile was sincere, and thoughts of food overshadowed his reluctance to appear on TV program.

Then you looked at the blue-haired and previously mentioned Ayumu sitting on an armchair in the corner of the room, to whom you also approached after a short while. Your warm hand adjusted the collar of his light-colored shirt, and moments later with your free hand you handed him his favorite candy bar covered in milk chocolate.

“After the interview, I’ll buy you another one, ‘kay?” You looked at him fondly, and the twenty-six-year-old nodded. Although Tachibana was an introvert and didn’t like crowds of people nor just talking to others, he felt completely safe and understood with you. Plus, he was getting sweets from you, even though you both knew he shouldn’t have eaten them so much.

Reiji and Haruto finished dressing and asked you to judge the outfits. All you said was that they look very good and manly as always, and will definitely attract the attention of the cameras this morning. Such words for the male idol were a kind of boost, so they smiled triumphantly, silently arguing about which one you like more.

“... What do you think about me, lady Y/N?” Shou asked as he spun around and you just giggled. He always called you per lady or miss.

“You definitely look wonderful. I told you that gloves would be perfect for your style.” Another smile appeared on your face and the leader just laughed, thanking you for the compliment. “All right, Gaku. Are you ready too?”

“I guess so, could you just tie a button on the back for me?”

“Yes, of course.” You quickly complied with the request of the tall, dark-haired member of the band, and then tapped him on the shoulder, thus signaling that he was ready.

Perfectly with the man’s thanks, the producer invited the whole ROCK DOWN onto the stage with two couches and a table full of snacks. So you smiled at all six of them, giving both thumbs up. Morning interviews were really important in the culture of jrock or jpop bands, so you wanted everything to go your way.

All six moved towards the exit of the locker room, but before they finally left it, each of them gave you a quick but sweet kiss right on the cheek. Stunned, you just shook your head in amusement and shouted a loud ‘Good luck!’ in their direction.

‘Maybe interviews aren’t so bad after all...?’ All six thought, then greeted the host with a low bow.

previous day ; jiro yamada from buster bros!!! ♡ next day ; meiko

[smthnsmthn-whumpblog]

you know what i love? prison whump. and i barely get to see any :(

but seriously, the prison system is so incredibly fucked up, the opportunities for whump are endless. beatings from the prison guards, beatings from the other prisoners, forced labour, all kinds of neglect (emotional, physical, medical, hygiene, etc.) and just so much misery. being forced to live in crumbling cells, full of rat shit and bird droppings, not to mention their own filth. being sentenced to solitary confinement for a minor indiscretion, maybe the whumpee criticises the treatment they’re getting, and is forced to sit in a cold small cell by themself for two days or more, the only social interaction they get is an apathetic guard giving them a measly meal twice a day. all of it just adding to the intense isolation and loneliness.

and that’s just modern prisons; are you doing historical whump? oh boy, that shit was utterly awful. corporal punishment galore - getting flogged, whipped and birched, leaving scars (both mental and physical) that will last a lifetime. public humiliation, being strung up in stress positions and displayed for all passers-by to point, laugh and scorn. worked to the bone, doing menial, pointed tasks for inhuman hours, getting beaten when they collapse of exhaustion. going to the toilet in a bowl they have to sleep next to, having to clean it out themselves every day. being locked up in minuscule cells, too small for whumpee to move, their muscles atrophying. chain gangs. and that’s just a few examples off the top of my head.

oh, and if you’re doing fantasy whump? you can do literally whatever you want. you can make up the rules, decide how severely whumpee gets punished for something small. the world is your bloody oyster.

and the fact that it’s a prison, and they’re a criminal - maybe the whumpee didn’t do anything wrong, maybe they got framed or falsely imprisoned. maybe they did do something ‘wrong’, something deemed a crime by their society but something that isn’t entirely their fault and requires help not punishment (like drug abuse or stealing to keep themself/their loved ones fed). or maybe they did do something wrong, a sort of whumper-turned-whumpee vibe, but the punishment goes way too far.

anyway, fuck the penal system.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Date Idea:

Frantically running through the woods trying to escape the threat of vicious cuddles that will inevitably catch up to you once the eldritch horror monster does <3

best date idea ever, right here!!!

Foul Legacy always gives you a head start, fluttering his wings in amusement as he watches you dart away into the trees, waiting for a few more minutes before he dashes after you! once you reach the middle of the forest you pause for a moment to catch your breath, only to hastily scramble up a tree when you hear the sound of twigs snapping and heavy footsteps. Legacy bursts into the small clearing, shaking some of the leaves from his hair and looking around for you, tilting his head this way and that until he catches sight of you perched in the tree and lets out a joyful trill. he reaches for you, directly underneath where you're sitting, and nods reassuringly

you lean back and fall, unafraid, landing perfectly in Legacy's arms with a small thump. he leans in to press his forehead against yours and at the same time you run your fingers through his coppery hair, smoothing out the tangles and brushing out any residual leaves and sticks caught in the tresses. your monster companion tilts his head back, silently requesting scritches and rumbling in delight when you comply and scratch under his chin. in one swift motion Legacy pulls you against his chest, pressing his masked cheek against the top of your head and letting out a content sigh as you brush your thumb over his mouth, smiling at the sensation of him delicately nibbling your fingers

a leaf falls from a nearby tree, and Legacy picks it up and places it onto your head, and you smile and begin to look around for another leaf to do the same

[villainsidestep]

oh fawn we are really in it now

[starflungwaddledee]

oh. my god. oh my god. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD!!!!! i saw this and immediately started screaming "IS THIS REAL.. AM I STILL ASLEEP... IS THIS A DREAM?!?!"

DAS!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAA

what is blud yapping about

(based on @starflungwaddledee 's comic here.)

[tteokdoroki]

jock bf yuuji who’s tongue lolls out of his mouth when he feels u cum on his dick and then he ends up cumming when you suck on his tongue as it hangs out of his mouth <3 he’s a big manhandler and so unbelievably strong, has def broken the weak frame of your dorm bed at least once <3 loves sleeping over and then waking up to you in the early morning light, eats you out then has you ride him and you’re both thinking about it for the rest of the day <3 yuuji sends you the riskiest texts too, texts you that he can’t stop thinking about how good you looked when you sucked him off the night before and now you’re distracted in the library <3

ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #6. pleasure prioritised.

about. just some scenarios of an incredibly strong jock boyfriend pleasing his girlfriend in different ways. thank you nonnie for driving me up the wall with this!!! ( 1K )

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. nsfw, smut, college!au, characters aged up to 20s, creampies, messy makeouts, breaking the bed, strength!kink, unprotected sex, oral sex (f + m!receiving), jock bf!yuuji, weird + fem!reader.

everybody knows that yuuji itadori is strong, he wouldn’t be the star athlete in the soccer team if that wasn’t the case. 

with muscles that ripple when he moves, thick thighs that spread wide and flex on instinct and dark eyes that shine like gold while pulling you in — it’s no wonder why half of the campus wants a piece of him. luckily enough, yuuji itadori only wants to give himself to you.

yuuji only uses the full extent of strength when he devotes his body to pleasing you. when it’s lights out at your dorm go out, and the common spaces are vacant while your roommates party the night away and all that remains is a man who loves his girlfriend with all of his entirety. and a girl who loves him all too much, right back. he pins you to the bed, pelvis to pelvis as yuuji uses all of his might to pound into you.

his thrusts are usually heavy, but thoughtful and with meaning — designed to make you see bright, shining stars behind your eyelids and pull an angels song from between your lips. itadori doesn’t just fuck you —  his sweet girlfriend, his everything, his purpose. he makes love to you, makes the bed rock while his sticky tip stays tacked to your g-spot and safe, comforting brown his eyes stay locked on yours, reminding you of how much you are loved as you tremble and quake beneath him. 

there’s often a dull thump to the wall from where the force of yuuji’s hips drive the headboard into it. only you ever have the power to make your man that feral, have him drooling like a dog with its tongue in the wind whenever he has the chance to sink into your tight heat. it’s the way your snug little pussy ripples around the giant jock’s fat girth, his tummy smooshed up against your puffy clit does nothing to help him either. the more ecstasy he gives you, the more you clench down on your boyfriend and the further his eyes disappear into his skull. 

itadori just loves being inside of you, tucking his thriving dick away inside your velveteen walls, hearing your pussy suction around you and your cheap dorm mattress squeak in harmony with your hiccuped moans. yuuji, yuuji, yuuji. his name on your kiss swollen and tear glossed lips is enough for the pink haired man to break the bed from how hard and deep he thrusts into you. even when it does collapse in on itself, yuuji doesn’t dare stop until you’re cumming in sweet streams around him — painting his toned stomach and washboard abs in your arousal before he fills you up with his own thick white.

he usually cums with his drooling tongue in your mouth and an arm wrapped around your head, keeping you tucked underneath while he grinds his hips through your shared highs. sometimes salacious laments and high-pitched whines manage to slip through the cracks — which mean noise complaints from the Dean of your dorm and a call to maintenance in the morning to fix your destroyed bed (and walls).

mornings are no different (once your bed is fixed), yuuji itadori always fails to keep his hands to himself and if he’s lucky enough to stay the night — he uses those very same greedy and large hands to pleasure you all throughout sunrise. you wake up to find fingers on the swollen little nub tucked between your puffy pussy lips and his eager tongue swiping over the eight of your slit to catch any of your juices before they’re wasted on cheaply made college-friendly sheets. 

it’s a sight to behold, the way you arch your back from the bed and your thighs quiver either side of a head full of bright pink hair that tickles their insides. you can’t help but tug on the soft tufts — dragging yuuji further into your creamy cunt while accidentally kicking plushies galore from their place amongst your pillows and blankets. itadori remains a messy eater, slurping on your succulent folds, running laps over every inch of the heat between your glorious thighs. 

except you don’t get to cum on his mouth or his tongue on mornings like this — instead yuuji likes to really show off his strength. he likes you in his lap and seated on the swell of his fat, oozing girth. he adores plugging you full, watching you writhe above him for something, anything. any type of thrust or friction. yuuji can’t help himself, he’s always dying  to grope the globes of your ass when you’re riding him, using the strength in his arms  to hold over his bright red ans milky tip before pumping himself all the way into you in one calculated thrust upwards. 

both of you cum before either of your alarms go off, messy as always but content. you’re happy with yuuji and he’s always so happy to please you — it’s the least he could do for his precious girl. 

itadori always leaves you with a limp throughout the rest of your day — a comfortable pain in the base of your spine that reminds you of how deep he’d gone. there’s a dampness to your underwear during your classes too, reminding you of how much hot, oozing seed the jock had filled you up with. ‘keep it there,’ the pink haired soccer player tends to ask with those guilt-tripping puppy dog eyes of his. ‘want you walking around with my cum dripping down your thigh, so that everyone knows who you belong to.’

you often wonder what the campus would think if they knew how debauched their star player really was.

they’d have a field day if they saw the texts yuuji sent you while wiping the floor with his teammates during practices. pictures of his erection in the changing room mirrors and maybe some of your pretty face while he had you cumming on just his tip. sometimes paragraphs detailing how he was going to ruin your pussy, make you see god or even reach cloud nine. some tell you how much itadori misses your plush lips wrapped around him as he cums down your throat. 

but no matter what way you look at it, your jock boyfriend yuuji itadori always has your pleasure prioritised at the forefront of his mind. he’d use whatever part of his body, whatever strength he has to keep you satisfied. all alongside his insatiable appetite for you and only you. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[vampjaeyun]

STRAWBERRY LOLLY

PAIRING shy nerd!sunghoon x confident fem!reader | wc: 1.5k

WARNINGS vague smut, miniskirt agenda (duh), sunghoon is a perv and he got it bad, dom!sunghoon

However, one aspect that stands out on this particular day is the sugary rock between the lips he loves so much. God, Sunghoon practically busts at the sight.

NOTES hi first post kinda nervy

PARK SUNGHOON has the hots for you.

It has only been a few months since he’s known of you. And it’s not enough time to build the courage to approach you.

What can he say?

You look unfathomable. Something so unreachable. Especially for someone like him.

He sits far across the room as the professor rambles on, stealing glances, wondering if you’ll notice him one day. It was hard to keep his mind at bay, to prevent walking up to you. He knew that he would ramble and mess it all up. Or stutter while attempting to acquaint himself with you.

He realized that admiring from afar was the best solution to the issue at hand. And it proved to be a good one.

That is, until it became unbearable. More specifically, sinful. And today is one where it seems God is testing him.

You return to the classroom and Sunghoon automatically straightens his posture– his doodling on the notebook gone astray.

You’re sporting the same mini skirt he loves so much and those legs are perfectly on display for everyone to see. It’s definitely not because they’re so short your panties practically peek out without having to look under.

He doesn’t know how you do it. How you claim attention to any room you walk in. Heads automatically turn in your direction the second you step foot into it. But you play dumb, acting as if the people in the room don’t automatically moan at the sight of you.

And whether it’s the perfect posture or the pearly smile you showcase, you’re far out of reach for the quiet, stereotypical glasses-wearing nerd, whose favorite class is calculus. And it’s most definitely because you’re in this class too.

However, one aspect that stands out on this particular day is the sugary rock between the lips he loves so much.

God, Sunghoon practically busts at the sight.

The glassy ball between your lips that you occasionally run your tongue along has him losing all composure. You’re innocently conversing with your classmate beside you, innocently grazing the tip of the red lollipop against your bottom lip, and innocently putting it back into your mouth in one motion. Your cheeks hollow, and he salivates at you sucking on the sticky candy. He knows he’s far away, yet believes his eyesight couldn’t be any clearer.

His leg starts to mindlessly shake once scenarios run wild, and one point he makes clear to himself is that the flavor is strawberry. It fits you perfectly, he thinks. The strawberry lollipop tints your lips a fitting scarlet shade, the gloss resembling honey as you continue to edge him beyond belief with the repetition of your ministrations.

But as he continues to gawk from across the room, your orbs shoot directly into his.

It’s so sudden that he moves to deter from your glare at all costs and reverts back to random doodling. Sweat dribbles down alongside his temple because your sharp eyes contain purpose behind them, and he prays that the purpose isn’t him.

You’re definitely going to call him out for being a creep if anything.

But a tap on his shoulder forces him to address the siren in heels behind him, and as he turns, Sunghoon can hardly meet your inviting eyes.

And just like taking a breath, your syrupy voice addresses him for the first time. He wonders if you feel an ounce of what he’s feeling at the moment.

Surely not, because you act as if you’ve known him your whole life.

“Hey Hoonie, can I talk to you for a second?” you infer with your hands pressed against the edge of his desk. And it’s proving impossible to look straight into your eyes, even more at your tits pressed together, spilling out of your top.

“Shoot,” he mentally applauses himself for a collective response.

“I need a tutor,” you frown, and all he thinks about is how your face would look when you cum.

“I’m on the verge of failing, and I know you’re about to check off a hundred percent in the class.”

“Yeah o-of course. I have to make sure my schedule’s open first.”

“Great! My place or your place?” you bat your lashes innocently.

Sunghoon swears if you do one more thing, he’ll cum in his pants right then and there. There’s not much more he can take. “Anywhere is fine. I gotta go though. We can discuss the details in class tomorrow.”

You’re giggling at his shyness, quick to follow his scurrying around the desk. “Or we can keep talking since I like talking to you so much.”

You’ve got him staring like a deer in headlights, “You do?”

“Do you?” you inquire while also wondering when he’ll drop the shy act.

An opportunity like this most likely won’t ever happen again. And the countless times Jake has called him a pussy for not shooting his shot only motivates him that much more. “Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to?”

“Maybe because I enjoy hearing answers I like,” you raise a brow at his sudden confidence, but your interest is showcased through the closing proximity between the two of you with each word that escapes your throat.

Sunghoon notices the glint of surprise in your eyes when you realize he wasn’t going to cower backwards.

His thoughts, on the other hand, were the complete opposite of his cowardly actions. In fact, he wonders how’d you react if he kissed you until your lips were bruised. Or if you liked it if he wrapped his entire hand full of your hair and tugged ‘til his heart’s content.

But in the end, your answer has him speechless, and you fully grin at that. “Let me know the answer to mine when you get the chance.”

You’re turning around to leave the shaky boy alone, but something catches your wrist.

“Tomorrow. Eight p.m., my place,” he’s breathing pattern quickens and he thickly gulps as he awaits your response.

And you giggle at his eagerness. “Can’t wait.”

And that’s how you ended up at his place the following night. Sunghoon had successfully helped complete a total of five questions before your hand slithered up his thigh and the subject of derivatives flew out the window.

To be honest, he doesn’t care he gave in so fast.

He’s so easy. So easy for you.

And you knew that. You took advantage of how he averted your gaze at all costs, yet you could still feel the heat of his stare when you looked away. Usually preferring men who are more dominant and masculine in and out of the bedroom, you took this as a challenge to stray out of your comfort zone.

You couldn’t lie though, Sunghoon’s awkward mannerisms are awfully cute. A bonus was he wasn’t hard on the eyes either. Your friends often scolded you for wanting to pursue him, but you ignored their incessant warnings.

And when you made due of your promise, you were surprised at how he was able to get a few words out.

What was even more surprising was the night that followed.

“Fuck—mnph!” your moans are muffled into the pillow as Sunghoon plows into your sopping cunt from behind. His palm envelops the entirety of your nape, pushing your head harder with each thrust. Your entire spine buzzes with pleasure, and his fingers digging into your neck only heighten the feeling.

“This is for underestimating me,” he seethes. You wish you were facing him to see his darkened persona.

“I w-w,” you barely get out.

“You what?” his hoarse voice mixes with a groan at your velvety walls sucking him like a vice.

“I-I wish I c-could take a pict-ture,” Sunghoon’s fingers press deeper with each word that escapes your throat, and you giggle. You’d never imagine the loser in class could get you pussy drunk.

“Go ahead,” he seethes before pulling out and flipping you over to your back.

“Wha-” you can’t even finish the word before he’s roughly thrusting into your pussy in one motion and continuing with the same pace.

“Hoon! Fuck,” you’re under his spell while the bed frame rhythmically knocks against the wall.

“I should take a picture of you like this,” he turns your slack jaw so you are able to look at him.

He chuckles once his eyes make contact with your hooded ones. “With drool and tears decorating your face while I use you as a cock-sleeve.”

Your fists ball as the drag of his cock overwhelms you. “So full,” you moan, and he rewards your comment with another harsh snap of his hips.

“Remember,” Sunghoon sets your calves against his shoulder and leans down against your ear. It feels unworldly, his cock pushing deeper and rougher into your cervix.

“Remember who makes you feel this way,” he whispers.

[bbokicidal]

Hand Placement - [OT8]

quick summary : where the skz members like to lay their hands on your body during different scenarios.

warnings : suggestive content (18+, MDNI), sexual themes, casual (? ish, ig.) groping

notes : the order of the scenarios goes: casual -> intimate -> sensual so the pictures for each member will be placed in that order for visual reference!

if you like my content and want to see more, be sure to follow & reblog!

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ bangchan

casual - he can't help it, if he's honest. he knows that actions speak louder than words, and when you're stubborn enough to deny the beauty he tells you he sees through his eyes - well, he hopes that the touch of his hand lingering over your jaw will guide you to see yourself the way he does.

intimate - always holding your hand, chan can't deny that he feels a protective nature over you. he can't let you get lost - can't fight the panic he finds filling his chest when his fingers aren't laced with yours. so do him a favor and just hold on tight, yeah?

sensual - having the need to constantly be using his hands, chan likes to knead that plush of your thighs any chance he gets - and the feeling of the warmth under his fingertips is all the more alluring when you're sitting above him rocking your hips down against his hardening cock.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ lee know

casual - never one to hurt you, his grip is always gentle when he grabs hold of your wrist. it's a subtle but sure way to make sure you drop the bratty, teasing nature that riles him up all too quickly - and it's a surefire way to get jisung giggling off to the side at your antics.

intimate - he isn't sure when his love for resting his hand on your lower back appeared, but minho adores getting to hold onto you in such a soft way. it's - again - subtle, but his gesture and guide is firm as he brings you to walk in front of him or lures you away from the counter so he can step forward and pay.

sensual - call him sappy - maybe even a bit romantic - but minho needs to feel your hand in his when he's making love to you. both so he knows you're present and with him in that moment, but also to keep you grounded when he's kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. <3

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ changbin

casual - bin loves the feeling of having you in his arms. he can't resist the urge to hug onto you most times - use to being the clingier one in the group and loving that you'll accept his affection with no questions asked.

intimate - and since we're on the topic, who doesn't want a hug with bin's big strong arms wrapped around them? better yet, who doesn't want a strong hug from behind while also getting to play with his fingers and rings? he'll chat away with the others, swaying carefully back and forth with you huddled nice and close, twisting his rings and pulling at his bracelets.

sensual - having a thing for - what do we call it, grabbing? we've seen him do it with seungmin multiple times and you'd be wrong if you think he won't do it to you as well. at first it's gentle caresses along the nape of your neck to guide you into a kiss - but once he's comfortable enough and knows what you like, he'll grab you by the throat, dragging you to him to steal a kiss before guiding you to your knees so you can take his awaiting cock in your pretty little mouth.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ hyunjin

casual - thinking it's more funny than anything, hyunjin developed a habit of pressing a hand over your mouth when you got snappy towards other members, namely being minho. because he knew for a fact that you would also get the airfryer-tissue treatment as soon as minho got out of his seat.

intimate - call him romantic, call him a sucker. hyunjin can't get enough of the warmth your body offers him, hands sliding under your shirt when you kiss him so he can squeeze at the softness of your sides and maybe, if he's feeling frisky, trail his fingertips up a bit higher.

sensual - call him a whore. if you're alone together, or you're in the group and everyone's been drinking a bit so he's what we'll call 'loose' in this situation - he's resting a hand right over your center. whether you're wearing pants, shorts, a dress, or nothing at all - he's always got his hand loitering there. maybe even rubbing small circles with his fingertips.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ han

casual - jisung is... a sweetheart when it comes to your body. his favorite thing to do no matter where you are, how many people are around, what time of day it is - is play with your hair. he loves the feeling of running his fingers through it and getting to twist it into fun hairstyles. he'll do his best not to rat it up, though.

intimate - his hand being in your back pocket is something he could put on his hobby - because that's a full-time job for him. you're standing beside him? hand in your pocket. you're sitting in his lap? hand under your ass in your pocket. you're standing in front of him in line? whoop - hand in your pocket. maybe squeezing here and there, too.

sensual - did you see this one coming? han jisung is an ass man and i will stand by my word. any time you're alone he's always, always, always touching the tooshie. he'll slide his hands over the soft skin and dig his fingertips in as much as he can while you're in his lap, his lips attached to your throat to muffle his groans. he gets more pleasure out of it than you do, i'd assume.~

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ felix

casual - ever the sweetheart and gentleman, felix does his best to keep his hands to himself with you in public. but if you're more comfortable and don't mind him holding onto you or being affectionate, he'll often times find himself holding onto your hands or bringing you closer so that you can hold onto his arm.

intimate - it's common this appears at awards shows - felix enjoys showing you off. his hand is consistently resting on your hip, gentle but firm in nature and not necessarily guiding you but moreso just resting there so that people get the hint. you're taken, and he's proud to be your boyfriend. (all days of the week, but when you look this gorgeous? he's bound to adore you just a tad bit more, pride swelling in his veins.)

sensual - felix's hands commonly rest on your sides during moments together. partially because it gives you stability - and partially because he needs to hold onto you while he stares up at your bouncing form above him, his lips parted and eyes fogged like glass with adoration.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ seungmin

casual - seungmin's almost always touching you more than he is the others. he'll nudge you with his hip to get you out of his way (playfully, of course) or give you a shove when you're being bratty - even though he's the exact same way. nuisances, i swear. <3

intimate - it's subtle, and soft. but seungmin has a love for linking his pinky with yours, letting his thumb rub over the back of your hand while you sit beside each other. there's no looks or words exchanged - just brief, sweet, quiet moments filled with a dull hum of love.

sensual - contrary to everything i just said, he's a grabber. grabbing your thighs, your hands, your sides - your hair. he has a love for holding your hair back for you while you swallow around his cock, or pulling on it to make you look back at him when he drills into you from behind so hard it almost hurts.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ jeongin

casual - there's little to no casual contact with jeongin, simply because skinship isn't his thing. he'll hold your hand or arms here or there in passing, but it isn't often he'll be affectionate with you in public.

intimate - when he is feeling softer, feeling safer when he's alone with you and out of the teasing eyes of his hyungs - jeongin likes to cup your face in his hands. he mentally huffs out a laugh at the way his palms seem to envelope your cheeks completely, but on the outside he's just gazing at you, smitten and soft and falling apart just by the simplest touch.

sensual - his hands tend to wander. they'll caress over every curve of your body when you're splayed on the sheets for him, so willing and wanting and ready for what he has to offer - but they travel along your back most often. you think he just has a want to feel the way your back arches away from his touch, chasing the warmth of his body and writhing with pleasure all because of him.

[queerculus]

National coverage of the hurricane has been so heavily tilted towards the typical hurricane-affected areas that it is going almost completely unreported as of posting that the town of Chimney Rock, North Carolina has been completely leveled.

Aside from some residential areas, the entire town is gone.

I'm posting this because in the coming days and weeks there are going to be a lot of calls to help people who survived the storm and many are going to assume that this is business-as-usual hurricane season stuff, but it isn't. This storm tore through Appalachia, flooding regions that have literally never flooded like this. The hills and plants that hold soil in place have been severely damaged because this kind of weather event is so deeply unprecedented the plants that live here are completely unprepared for this to happen literally ever.

There are no undamanged highways in or out of Asheville. We can't even recover the phone and data networks until trucks can get into the area, and they can't get into the area because some of the roads are just GONE. The water was so fast and so intense it washed the dirt from underneath the pavement and chunks of road literally fell down the fucking mountains.

When you see things over the next few days asking for help, please understand that this is not typical hurricane season damage. Entire communities have been flattened. The infrastructure in much of the region is utterly destroyed and will take weeks just to begin recovery in some parts.

The phone and data grid are offline.

Power and water are out for most people.

The roads used for evacuation are undrivable.

This is an absolute nightmare scenario.

[merakidoll]

tattoo shop series - tengen addition!

warnings 🫧 : sex while tattooing? cock warming, tattoo shop owner tengen, mentions of needle piercing through skin. very dangerous scenario!! all fiction! reader is black and chubby, my husbands at the end giving annoying little brother! creaming, overstim, unprotected sex!

the buzzing sound was throughout the large tattoo area, tengen having a steady hand as he outlined your desired design hmming over your low grunts and moans. “c’mon mama, be still.” you bit into your stuffy trying hard to listen but this was absolutely torcher.

“d-da—“

“you said you would be a good girl,” you whimper at his words, the promise you made what felt like hours ago burning your ears. “m’sorryyy!” you cried taking the small advantage of his tattoos gun no longer piercing your skin to buck your hips, and cleanch. his cock becoming messy in your juices. tengen took a deep sigh throwing his head back and letting his arms go in the air when you started to bounce. your elbows were engraved in the tattoo bed, ass clapping together while his dick molded your walls to fit him. “bad girl” he tried to remain stern, not showing you how you were effecting him so badly, but the way his pre cum oozed inside of you told a different story.

“f-feels so good” your eyes rolled to the back of your head orgasm right there. with ringing ears tengen used one hand to still your hips, you ass touching his pelvis; walls clasping around his full length making you gasp. “b-be patient” his teeth gritted together starting your tattoo again. the pain zinging throughout your body prompting you to bite your lip when it went directly to your pussy.

tengen rocked a steady pace in you, keeping the orgasm there but not letting it come fully. the tattoo gun buzz took over the room again, your eyes shut tight trying to hold in your cream. but you just couldn’t. tengen moved slightly, head of his cock poking a spot that had tears streaming down your face, nails digging into his bed; the pain from the gun making the orgasm so much more. “m-mygooddd” tengen stoped in shock your body shaking against him, while your cream dripped down his pants and onto the floor.

he stared at you losing control. you pleading at how the feeling was too much - and the intense orgasm wouldn’t go away. tengen took that as his time, placing the gun down and fucking into you messily. your essence getting everywhere and overstimulation making your brain hurt. your eyes going crossed eyed as your pussy came again, and tengem filling your womb up. tengen only breathlessly chuckled as you fell limp, body quivering from how strong everything is feeling. he shook his head at you half finished tattoo, jumping at a knock to his studio door

“i know you’re not doing what you banned for me to do”

“eren go away!”

[justanotherbirdbrain-blog]

Geology of Natural Disasters and How to write them into your fictional universe.

So, you want to write about a natural disaster to advance your plot and torture your players/characters even more? Let me tell you how, accurately.

I feel like unless it is a volcano, natural disasters are a pretty slept on plot drivers, and some of them are really cool and unique! Today, I will talk to you about land slides, earthquakes (And earthquake related disasters), and volcanoes.

Landslides: Probably one I see the least in stories, but one that would be incredibly interesting to write into a plot where they believe in curses. Landslides can happen along ocean bluffs, slightly hilly areas, and highly mountainous areas, this means it is something that can happen in most landscapes. But what can trigger a landslide? Mostly all you need to trigger a landslide could be just abnormally large amounts of rain, excessive deforestation (with a little bit of rain), or an earthquake. If you don't want to use deforestation or an earthquake as a catalyst, a really cool indicator that the land is slipping and may be prone to a collapse is J hooked trees.

This indicates that there is soil creeping slowly over time, and it may lead to a major landslide.

2. Earthquakes: Probably one of the easiest things to write, earthquakes can happen anywhere, but they are most common in places that are tectonically active areas. There are about three types of environments you can expect earthquakes to be common. The first is just rugged mountains, if your landscape looks like this, you should write in earthquakes. Associated hazards could be landslides, avalanches, and large falling rocks.

The next landscape could be a thin mountain range, next to the ocean, very scenic, but very dangerous. Essentially, I am describing a subduction zone environment.

Earthquakes in these areas could equal a couple different associated disasters. Scenario one: A very large earthquake happens, and the ocean begins to recede. This is a tsunami, enough said. If you are writing a tsunami though, please, please, do not write it as a large wave, thank you. Also, a common way people are hurt by tsunami's are from them going into the ocean because they don't understand a tsunami is going to happen.

Scenario two: A large earthquake happens, your characters are in a valley and suddenly the ground begins to liquify as the ground shakes, once the shaking stops, the ground becomes solid like nothing ever happened, except everything has suddenly sunk into the now hard ground. This is called liquefaction and it typically happens in areas that have loose dirt or lots of saturated soil.

Scenario three: There are a lot of small earthquakes, they do not cause a lot of damage, but you begin to notice that one of the isolated mountains has a plume rising. Earthquakes can indicate lava moving underground and the filling of magma chambers.

The next environment that can host lots of earthquakes would be regions that have a lot of really deep valleys and small mountain ranges (not cone volcanoes), but overall seems pretty flat.

This indicates a transform fault like the San Andreas. If you want to hint at there being earthquakes in the area, you can show fence posts that are suddenly several feet out of line at a dilapidated farm or something similar.

(These earthquakes are different because they are cased from sideways movement, not an up-and-down movement this hint can only be used for this environment). Volcanoes would not be found here, but liquefaction and landslides could still occur here.

4. Volcanoes: If you thought earthquakes had a lot of information, volcanoes do too. First you have to ask yourself, what kind of volcano you want to have, what kind of eruption style? So lets break down the kind of eruptions you can have and what their landscapes look like. Hawaiian Shield volcano: This will produce a smooth fast lava, the landscape typically is pretty flat, but there will be small cones and the rocks can have a ropey or jagged texture and the rocks will be almost exclusively black to dark red.

Stratovolcanoes: These will be solitary mountains, typically, that look like perfect cones (Picture shown in earthquake section). These will have large ash cloud eruptions and pyroclastic flows, they may have some lava, but typically most damage is done from the pyroclastic flows (think Pompeii). Some hints of these, other than describing the cone features (which can be hidden by other mountains), would be to talk about petrified wood! Trees can get fossilized in the ash and I imagine it would be very strange to find this rock that clearly looks to be a piece of wood, but its a rock. Subcategory- Calderas: Used to be a large stratovolcano, but they erupt so explosively that the entire cone collapses and creates a basin.

There are a lot of kinds of volcanoes out there, so forgive me for just putting an infographic and then talking to you about these really rare types of eruptions that I feel like people should know about.

Okay lets talk about blue lava (kind of) and black lava

You will notice the lava is still red in the middle of this image, during the day these would look like a normal eruption, but at night the burning sulfur would make it appear blue. Some cool features other than this, would be that any water in the area would become very acidic and burn the skin due to sulfuric acid. This would again be really cool if you are trying to describe a 'cursed' land.

Black lava: This happens only in the east African rift I believe, but it is a carbonatite lava, but if you are writing in a rift valley (where the continent is tearing apart to form a new ocean) this might be a cool feature. The lava will cool white and will quickly erode, it makes for a very alien landscape!

Anyway as always, this is supposed to be an introductive guide for the basics of writing geology to create cool landscapes/features into dnd or fictional universes, if you are a geologist please understand my oversimplification of tectonics, I didn't want people to run away.

[usedpidemo]

Instant crush (Ive Wonyoung)

This world is really something else.

Eight billion people on this planet alone. Billions of planets among the cosmos. And even more stars to count.

It’s truly amazing knowing that you still haven’t found the one. At this point, you might as well shoot for the stars. Perhaps the one you’re searching for might be up there, looking down with the same longing as you have.

—————

Even down on earth, you’re still in good company. 

Another clear night in the open fields, ripe for stargazing. Everyone’s brought their food, their sleeping tents, and their telescope, but most importantly: each other. It’s become your primary bonding experience over the last several months.

These days, however, you prefer gazing up at the stars by yourself. It feels more comforting to be alone. No one really looks for you or shows concern when you suddenly disappear from camp, nor do they wonder where you’ve gone when you come back. You could have been killed and there would have been no trace, no search.

If anything, you’re more surprised you still keep getting invited.

Nevertheless, the night sky looks especially lovely tonight, with the countless stars shining at their brightest. While your friends prefer searching for the constellations, you’d rather admire them through your human eyes.

Every now and then, you hear your friends from afar, celebrating as the occasional shooting star passes by. It only emphasizes the loneliness you feel on a larger, painful scale.

On nights like these, you make a wish. You’re not the superstitious kind, but the faith and desperation makes you want to believe. Doesn’t matter if not a soul hears you, your innermost desire rings loud enough to be felt. The tears in your eyes show.

As the night goes further along, you’re about to make your way back to camp. Even from several feet afar, you can see them start winding down, the lights from their campervans flickering off. Everyone else begins to pack their belongings and settle in, when suddenly, another meteor flies past, its glow brighter than any other. You can hear the commotion, their voices loud and ecstatic, claiming they’ve never caught a star this close until now. 

Hell, you can see its physical properties with your own two eyes.

As the star descends at blisteringly high speed, you’re hit with the realization that it is, in fact, going to crash nearby. Sure enough, it passes through your line of sight with a blinding gleam before landing several miles away from where you were standing minutes ago. Immediately, a trail of smoke ascends to the sky, its exact location clear as day.

Given the circumstances, it’s your opportunity to finally be seen. To be the first. To be recognized as something more.

While everyone else in camp scrambles for their gear, you make a quick beeline for the crashed meteorite, having given yourself a significant head start. Based on how thin the smoke it left behind, you’d imagine it to be nothing special: just a regular space rock. As you approach the site, and see the shallow crater it made comparable to the average garden excavation, your assumptions would be confirmed.

However, a thick veil of white fumes surrounds the crater’s entire circumference, rendering any attempt to see the meteorite inside impossible. Common sense dictates that one should never touch anything foreign, especially if said object is of extraterrestrial origin. For a while, you contemplate the idea. After all; you may be dumb, but not that reckless.

Seeing as the smoke has no intention to dissipate, you may as well brave the storm. Worst case scenario, you disintegrate into ashes or die from poisoning, but you’ve got nothing to lose at this point. Still, the hesitation remains, as you constantly draw your hand and finger back the closer you get to touching the barrier.

There’s a still, small voice calling out to you, likely your subconscious, daring you to pass through the veil. Your heart wants you to take the leap, your mind tells you to stay back. It’s a surprisingly complicated conundrum. 

In the end, the heart wants what it wants. It wants to venture through the unknown. It wants definitive answers. It wants you to take that leap of faith.

Slowly but surely, you slip your finger through the thick white veil. Your skin doesn’t disintegrate nor does it burn. If anything, you feel nothing at all. There’s no smell or sensation as your hand completely disappears beyond the barrier, then to your elbow, until your entire arm is consumed by the fog. Your body moves of its own accord, seemingly getting sucked into an entirely new world beyond the smoke. 

As soon as you’re completely taken to the other side, the fog vanishes instantly. Your feet suddenly stop, realizing you’re no longer feeling solid ground. As the earth beneath you crumbles, it turns out you were one step away from falling in embarrassing fashion.

More importantly, there’s no meteorite at the bottom. It’s already cracked into pieces of dust. 

So you look up again. On the opposite end of the crater, an unexpected sight takes you off-guard. There’s a woman standing there, completely in the nude.

You can’t help but call to her. “Hey!”

With her back turned against you, looking left and right, your cry falls on seemingly deaf ears.

So you try again. Same result. Completely ignored.

You’ve got no choice but to run around and approach her, albeit cautiously. Even in the middle of nowhere, the danger persists.

The woman’s eyes turn toward you as you reach her. Nudity aside, her appearance is glaringly pretty. An unnatural beauty that you’ve never seen before. Long black hair, pouty lips, and a pristine face worth dying for. She’s really heaven-sent.

However, instead of showing concern or worry, her expressions show that of indifference and apathy. A little curiosity, even. As if she doesn’t know what she’s doing or where she is.

“Excuse me.” You’re trying not to stare at anywhere else but her beautiful face, and even that gets your heart racing. “I’m sorry, but you’re standing out naked in the middle of the cold,” you tell her, slowly falling into temptation. Eventually getting the better of you, you give yourself a tiny glance of her boobs, hoping she doesn’t catch on, and thankfully, she stares idly, “You might need some warmth.”

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she merely blinks and watches you intently. 

“Um,” you swallow, unsure of what to say or do, like anyone else in this situation. “Do you know where you are, miss?”

The woman continues to stare at you, occasionally blinking, before finally answering, “Planet 120121, codename Earth.”

Her monotone delivery and the peculiar string of words that came from her mouth take you aback. She continues before you’re even able to say anything, saying, “You are a resident species of planet Earth. Homo sapien. Codename Human.”

And she goes on by listing your complete biology, down to the smallest details. Your personal information, your biometrics, your history. Somehow, her voice saying your name sends shivers down your spine.

The revelation dawns on you, hits you like a truck. “You’re not human.”

Suddenly, before you can ask another question, you hear the shouts of your friends, having finally reached your location. They’re also calling for you, though not as lovely sounding as the alien right in front of you. You turn around and see as they emerge from the disappearing smoke. But as you quickly face her again, she has suddenly disappeared without any trace.

“There you are,” says one of them, the self-professed leader, before you can even react. “Thank God you were okay. We didn’t realize you left on your own, and lo and behold, you’re the first one in our group to discover a meteorite. Who would have thought?”

“There’s nothing here,” interjects another friend, surveying the crater with his camera and scanner, noting the lack of physical evidence. “That’s strange. Usually there should be a meteorite, but it’s just nothing but rubble.”

Unsurprisingly, they’re quick to jump to conclusions. Most of them. The leader narrows his eyes, though his voice remains pleasant and friendly, albeit incredibly shaky. “Look. I know it feels good to feel important, but how about you let us have a little peek? Promise, we’ll make sure you get the credit.”

None of them would ever in the slightest believe what you had seen even if you told the truth. If anything, it’ll be an excuse for them to finally ostracize you. Now you’re caught up in a rather inescapable situation with no clear outs.

“Um.” Your gaze avoids the four sets of eyes intently glaring, threatening to force information out of you with every step forward. You can’t do anything to save your life, including throwing a punch. You reason with them, “Look, I know this might seem hard to believe—”

“What? You broke the meteorite?” The leader interrupts, the three others right behind him, now visibly enraged. Besides the fun and fellowship, there’s plenty at stake. There’s money to be made. Fame and glory. It’ll be memorialized in museums and books. A lasting legacy broken with one simple mistake. “You just wasted us thousands, if not millions with your blatant stupidity—”

“Don’t. He’s correct; he doesn’t have a single trace of foreign material on him,” The guy with the scanner says, stepping ahead to protect you. At least someone in the party has a little common sense. “He’s correct; the meteor must have destroyed itself upon impact.”

You can tell by the leader’s disapproving stare that he doesn’t buy it. At all. Still, for his own reputation’s sake, and to avoid impulsively murdering someone in front of several eyewitnesses, he relents. As he walks away from the scene, you can see his lips moving, silently cursing you. 

“Right. Let’s get back to camp and rest up,” he gathers the party and takes his departure, leaving you on your own to catch up. 

Of course you don’t follow back. You spend some time looking around the crash site, searching for the mysterious extraterrestrial, but to no avail, having completely disappeared without a trace. It’s a reminder of not dabbling with strange elements you have little to no experience with. 

Still, the alien’s strange presence stirs in your mind. Something about it felt human. It certainly possessed a body and spoke like your fellow man, even though its speech could have been ripped from any computer. Maybe it was indeed an alien; you’ve never seen a face like that, so captivating, so dreamlike, yet so familiar. It really makes you think. 

Slap yourself a hundred times. It was a hundred percent real and not a hallucination or an illusion.

—————

A day later, you come home to your apartment. Life goes on. Turn on the TV, the noontime news is playing. You figure you’ll fall asleep on the couch after a little while. The night before, you didn’t have sound sleep, still reminiscing about your odd encounter and what it might have meant. 

Suddenly, the sound of running water catches your attention. You never stepped foot inside your bathroom, at least not yet, nor were you willing to. No one else lives in this apartment as far as you know, and you’re no believer in ghosts. 

So you grab an unplugged lamp from the living room and sneak around, quiet as a mouse. The bathroom door is slightly open as you approach closely, the sound of water growing louder. Someone is using your shower. Instead of rushing in, you wait on the corner, readying to strike at the earliest opportunity.

Your heart races wildly. Your breaths are muffled, deep, and heavy. The water stops, and you can only hear yourself. 

For a few tense, lengthy minutes, nothing happens. The intruder has no intention of stepping out, even though there are no vents or openings where they can escape from. It’s an enclosed space. You can easily wait a bit longer, but your impatience gets the best of you.

So you haphazardly charge in, guns blazing, screaming at the interloper. “Get out of here.”

You don’t recognize who you’re screaming at, nor do you careYour vision straightens out, and you’re taken completely by surprise at your uninvited guest.

It’s them. Or in this case, her. 

The woman doesn’t respond. In fact, she doesn’t react at all. No expression shift, no rebuttal, no displeasure, nothing. One of your bath towels is draped around her figure, and her body is soaking wet. God, she still has that alluringly gorgeous face, made even better now that’s in living color. You’re already regretting shouting in her face, even if it was in self-defense.

In your shock, you drop the lamp on the floor. 

“I—I’m sorry.” You’re struggling to put the words in your mouth. There’s so much running through your mind right now, countless questions. But the most important thing right now is focusing on her. Something about this woman is inviting you closer. The last thing you want to do is push her away. “I—I didn’t realize—”

“Do not apologize.” The woman’s lips try to form some semblance of a grin, and fails. It’s as endearing as everything else you know about her, and so is her robotic speech. “As a matter of fact, I should be the one to apologize for using your water to cleanse myself. I can see why your species enjoys bathing in water. It truly feels refreshing.”

Your eyebrows narrow and your lips twist into a frown. “You don’t shower?”

“Our culture showers, just not in water. You wouldn’t understand.”

And you’re not going to try. 

She steps aside, walking past you and out of the bathroom. “Excuse me.”

You allow her. 

Following her back to the living room, you watch as the mysterious woman lets your bath towel fall freely to the floor. Before you get an extended peek of her bare body, she waves her dainty hands all over herself, manifesting a white dress set out of nothing around her slender figure, perfectly fitting to a tee. 

In case you needed additional confirmation she isn’t human.

“How did you get here—”

“I understand that you have a lot of questions,” she interrupts, brushing a strand of hair aside, facing you with a proper, lovely smile. “And I wish to answer them, so as to not bring you any more stress. But I cannot. For your sake.”

“What do you mean—”

She lifts a finger, hushing you. “All your questions will be answered in due time. For now—” walking toward you, she puts her hands over your arms, “I would like to know you and this place some more.”

You don’t know what to say. This woman’s leaving you flustered and speechless. No one’s ever tried to get this close toward you, not a damn soul. Even a being beyond comprehension, it still feels real. You get a sense that she’s coming from a place of genuine curiosity.

“I—I don’t even know who—or what you are,” you tell her, tone low, overwhelmed. 

“You can call me anything you desire,” she says, appealing herself to you with her pretty eyes. “Please let me stay with you.”

There’s no hesitation, no second guessing. There was never any opportunity to resist. “Of course. Please stay as long as you like.”

—————

The woman notices a photo in your bedroom. It’s not a family member or any close friend, but someone everyone recognizes. She’s everywhere you look: on billboards, in magazines, in commercials. You can’t really escape her, no matter how far you go.

She also happens to resemble the alien you’ve been talking to.

“Jang Wonyoung,” the woman mutters to herself, intently scanning the photo of the person she’s the mirror image of. That's your primary reason for attraction. Even as an extraterrestrial, her appearance is the embodiment of Wonyoung. From the face, to the voice, down to the subtleties. “Jang Wonyoung sounds like a cute name.”

“You’re not her,” you bluntly tell her, despite her appearance bearing the exact image of the idol. “You may look like her, you may sound like her, but you’re not Wonyoung.”

Even though, deep in your heart, you’re gonna start calling her just that.

“How long have you been together?” she asks, taking the photo into her hand, presenting a core memory. The idol Wonyoung poses with you as you take a selfie, fresh after one of their concerts. 

“Oh—I wish. She’s an idol, I’m just a fan. She can’t date—at least publicly,” you tell her, amused by her lack of familiarity with earthly culture. 

“An idol? So she’s a god presiding over this planet?”

“I mean—to some people, yes, but she doesn’t have powers or anything. She’s also like me. A human. A really gorgeous human, but just that.”

“I see.” Wonyoung takes another minute to look at the photo, intrigued. “Why is she given the title idol, then? Idols are usually reserved for gods.”

“Well, it’s kinda complicated,” you’re scratching your head, figuring out how you can simplify yourself without having to chat up an hour-long video essay’s worth. “But she’s mainly a singer, okay? She sings and dances for a crowd of devoted fans, and everyone loves her for doing that.” 

“Sings and dances? Shouldn’t these so-called ‘fanatics’ be performing for her instead?” 

You scrunch your nose and shrug, barely hiding your chuckle at her sincere naivety. She’s half-right in a way. “You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Wonyoung follows you back to the living room, unsatisfied by how quickly the conversation ended. She shoots a cute pout that goes completely ignored. You call to her, asking if she wants anything to eat, but falls on deaf ears. Noticing the TV, she sets her eyes on the screen, her attention completely enraptured by all the fast moving action. 

As expected, she doesn’t watch TV like any normal human. She stands directly in front of the screen, resting her hand on top of the panel. You can only assume this is her absorbing information. Strange, but nothing you haven’t seen in other sci-fi media. 

And then, she begins to float a couple of feet off the ground. Her irises dilate before completely disappearing. Soon enough, objects in your apartment join her in the air moments later, including some of your appliances.

At first, it doesn’t seem remotely close to anything scary, only drawing your curiosity. But as she continues to absorb knowledge from the TV, a strange glow surrounds her body, her eyes glowing bright white. The lights in your apartment flicker on and off, the screen’s imagery changes to static, and all these other little tremors threaten to blow the place open. Nearly every appliance in your flat is going haywire from this sudden surge in power.

You have no choice but to step in before someone gets hurt.

“Wonyoung,” you’re calling to her, telling her to stop, trying desperately to snap her out this haze. She’s too numb to feel anything but the TV. Her body is surrounded with so much white light, it’s beginning to fill the entire room. An explosion is imminent.

You’ve got nothing left except to approach her, no matter how dangerous it may be. 

So with one last desperate cry, you shout out Wonyoung’s name, reaching her with your hand from behind. All of a sudden, a blinding flash fills your eyes, leaving you temporarily blind—and rendering you unconscious.

But it works. The light gradually disappears. She falls to the ground, overwhelmed by all this excess energy. 

Unfortunately, it comes at your apartment’s expense. To add insult to injury, the fire alarm in your apartment building activates, turning on the emergency water sprinklers. She’s left your entire flat a complete mess.

When you open your eyes, it’s raining everywhere; electronics everywhere falling apart, sparks occasionally shooting from the outlets and from tattered wires. Wonyoung’s lain unconscious in front of the TV, smoke coming out of the thin, shattered panel. Look around and see the aftermath; destroyed pieces of furniture, newly created holes in your walls, a clean break of your window, your life savings completely down the drain.

Still, none of those are your utmost concerns right now. You shake Wonyoung’s inert body, searching for any sign of life. Thankfully, she leans her head sideways moments later, staggered and confused.

“What—what happened?” she can barely open her eyes, let alone move her lips.

“Christ. Wonyoung, we gotta get outta here,” you tell her, lifting her off the ground, wrapping her arms around you. “You blew up my apartment and if anyone finds out, we’ll get in so much trouble.”

She ends up passing out again as you drag her outside your apartment and out of the building.

—————

Mercifully, it appears to be an isolated incident. No one besides you or Wonyoung were injured in some capacity. Still, you’ve come to the grim realization that never step foot inside your apartment ever again.

Emergency services rush into the building, while the police seal off the entrance for the other residents—at least temporarily. You’ve hidden Wonyoung’s motionless body behind a pair of sunglasses, hiding her behind some bushes at the nearest park, keeping yourself distant from her to avoid any suspicion. Your friends, devoted astronomers and stargazers, aren’t ready to accept the existence of alien life, much less the authorities and the public. Especially since her appearance is deeply tied to someone well-known, a star in and of herself.

Everyone knows the fire is coming from your apartment. The smoke from your window reaches up to the sky. So of course, when it’s time for questioning, all fingers are pointed toward you.

You tell them the exact same thing: a power surge, an electricity overload. Faulty cables and appliances. Whether it’s the police, the fire department, the medics, or the media. Anything to keep her existence hidden from the world. Sure enough, everyone buys it. Freak accidents occur all the time. It’s one of those days. Shit happens.

The only one who doesn’t look happy or at least concerned is your landlord, obviously. You’ve destroyed his property after all.

“I was gonna tell you to get out, but it looks like you’ve done that yourself,” he tells you, tone condescending, showing no empathy towards your situation. You can tell he’s wanted you gone for a while, but wasn’t legally able to.

“I was planning to move out anyway,” is your rebuttal, equally as snarky. Rubbing your arm, still wincing in pain from earlier. A lot has happened and there’s plenty more to do, but your first priority is Wonyoung. It’s been almost an hour since you’ve left her in the park.

So you run back to the spot where you’ve hidden her, only to find that she has completely disappeared. Panic sets in. Your search leads you to other parts of the city. Hours pass, with your efforts coming up empty. The sun is beginning to set, with you having quite the conundrum: she’s not only gone, but you have no shelter.

As fate would have it, you find Wonyoung in a different park on the other side of the city. She’s watching a group of skaters from afar, still wearing your sunglasses. 

You call out her name, and she turns to you, her expression stone cold. She raises a hand though, presumably waving without actually motioning.

“Hey. I’m—I’m sorry for what happened back there,” you tell her, taking a seat beside her as she turns her attention back to the skaters. “Look. I know you’re upset that I left you back there, but you gotta understand that you can’t just do that. You were wrecking up my place. Well—you did wreck it, actually.”

“So is that what the smoke was about? I did that?” Wonyoung asks with zero awareness or alarm, as if she really didn’t know what she had done.

You gently nod, frowning. As much as you don’t want to, she has to know the truth. “Yes. You were scanning the TV, and you got into this weird state where you were floating. Other objects were starting to move too, the electronics were surging with power, and—” you swallow, your lips trembling, “you hurt me.”

Wonyoung’s mouth slowly drops at your confession in utter disbelief. She takes a moment to collect herself. Based on the frown on her lips, you get the sense that she’s feeling guilty, even if it wasn’t her intent. Even behind sunglasses, a tear falls from one of her eyes.

“I—I’m sorry.” She reaches her hand out to you, a familiar glow surrounds her, this time fainter than what you saw earlier. As she touches your arm, the gleam passes from her skin to yours. It’s a soft, warm, comforting touch. More than that, it’s a healing brush; your scars, scrapes, and wounds gradually seal themselves clean, curing any and all forms of physical pain. Then it stops. “I hope I can make it up to you.”

“What are you then? What planet do you come from?” you ask, finally removing the bandage that you’ve plastered between you. 

“I cannot tell you that,” she says, blunt and to the point. “Our intentions cannot be made known by species other than our own.”

“You destroyed my apartment. You owe me an explanation,” you tell her, frustrated by her response.

Wonyoung gives herself a moment to think in silence. As the city lights turn on, she looks up. High in the sky, a shooting star flies by, similar to the one that led you to her.

“They’re coming,” she says to you, her gaze lingering on that falling star. Another one trails not too far behind. “Perhaps they’ve already arrived.”

“Who are? There’s more of you?”

She nods, confirming your answer. 

“We’re a conquering intergalactic species,” she tells you, still looking up to the heavens above. By the weight of her voice, this is something serious. “We search for hospitable worlds we can inhabit and rule by slowly assimilating into their culture before destroying the host planet and reforming it as our own.”

“So you’re like a race of body snatchers,” you comment, staring at her side profile, unable to tell yourself you’re speaking to a hostile alien, even if it’s apparent by her outlandish diction. In your eyes, she’s still Wonyoung. You quip, “I can see why you would choose Wonyoung.”

“Yes. Upon further research, I can come to the conclusion that this Jang Wonyoung is an exemplary sample of the human race,” she tells you, smiling cutely. “It’s such a shame that humans like her must be destroyed along with everything else on this planet.”

“But why? Why destroy Earth?”

“It’s a planet that will ultimately destroy itself,” says Wonyoung, putting her head down, looking at the ground beneath. “And from what I see, the only way it can be saved is by wiping the dominant species from existence. Humans.”

“There are still good people. At times we go to war, at times we can be selfish—but we still come together in times of need. At the end of the day, we still need each other to survive.”

“Your friends—they seem to not trust you at all,” she says, referring to your fellow stargazers. “Why do you still call them your friends?”

It’s a question even you yourself are struggling to figure out. Maybe it’s all about the fellowship and camaraderie, but you’ve never once felt welcome or important. No one ever bothers to keep a lengthy conversation with you. You’re often forgotten and overlooked to the point where your presence is nigh-invisible. To them, you’re mostly just an extra body, sometimes a liability, as seen during the meteorite incident. And yet, you still ride along whenever they come calling.

“To be honest, I don’t really know,” you tell her, lowering your head while sighing wistfully. “It’s been really lonely these days, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Then why did you trust me, knowing now that I am your enemy?” she asks, staring at you intently.

“You’re not an enemy to me, Wonyoung.” You face her, tilting your head away from the ground, under the delusion that some part of her is indeed human. “I don’t care if you’re an alien or if you want to kill me. What’s important is that I protect you right now, even if that means dying or whatever.”

Everything boils down to a simple question: “Why?”

At first, you don’t really have a definitive answer. But looking at the splitting image of her, your favorite idol, you know exactly why. You smile.

“Because I like you, Wonyoung. I can’t help but think it’s you, no matter how much I try to deny it.”

“I am not your so-called ‘Wonyoung.’ You are beyond irrational.”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” you tell her, looking up at the stars. “I believe you’re here for a reason.”

“And what reason may that be?”

The question goes ignored, and for good reason: you don’t exactly know. However, as you grow more acquainted with Wonyoung, perhaps you’ll figure it out. Something tells you it’s divine intervention, an answer to your heart's innermost desires. 

“Humans like you genuinely puzzle me,” she remarks, still watching you closely, like you’ve got something to hide. Secrets upon secrets.

“I feel the same way about us,” you quip back, quietly chuckling at her comment, because it’s true. Seeing how dark it is outside, you get up. “It’s getting late though, we should probably find somewhere to stay for the night.”

“I can take care of myself.” She says it exactly the way the real Wonyoung would—with a dash of sass and a charming attitude. Her body morphs into a clear formless liquid, showing you she can disappear and reappear anywhere at any time before transforming back into the girl of your dreams.

“I know, I know,” you tell her, reaching out your hand, undeterred. “But don’t you wanna see what Earth is really like before you destroy it for good?”

She blinks twice, contemplating the idea. “You’re right.”

—————

Wonyoung’s attention is scattered all over the place. Bright lights, big city, Wherever she turns, something new happens. Crowds going in and out of buildings, families bonding, everything else in between. There’s a childlike wonder in her eyes, in awe of our species and culture, seeing everyone from all walks of life grouped together. 

She sees herself everywhere—on billboards, on the TVs for sale, on little posters. She sees the real one performing on screen, and recognizes why you and many others hold her in such high regard. In the same way she’s captivated you, it’s dazzling her too.

Maybe Earth isn’t as horrible as initially thought.

“Yeah,” you tell her, slowly tracing back your steps as you’ve realized she’s vanished again—a lot more than you care to count. Smiling from ear to ear as you look at the TV, then at Wonyoung, as if to say ‘I told you so.’

Wonyoung grins back. She waves her hands around like a wand, magically turning her little dress into an all-white jumpsuit, looking like a million bucks, as she should. 

“Just had to rub it in, huh,” you remark, ogling her new appearance from head to toe.

She chuckles, placing her hand on your shoulder in the most attention-seeking way possible. She’s a natural at looking and acting hot, which doesn’t surprise you—it’s Wonyoung, after all. Seeing herself on screen has given her a template to follow.

“I bet you’re a little hungry now,” she remarks, whispering against your ear, her voice skin melting. Again, effortlessly seductive.

A million thoughts instantly come to mind, most of which are best left unsaid. But then you hear your stomach grumble, by far the most embarrassing to admit defeat. Of course she hears it, makes it a big deal by laughing heartily. 

“Unfortunately so.”

“What is the best place to eat around here?” she asks, as if you’ve got a whole reserve of money lying around—which you don’t.

“You serious? I can barely find a place to stay, let alone something good to eat,” you admit, coming to terms with the fact you may be in serious trouble. Having vacated your apartment because of her, you’ve left most of your belongings behind, leaving with nothing but your phone, wallet, and the clothes on your back, which are in slightly poor shape.

“I see.” She presses her hand tightly on your shoulder, using her powers to transfigure your clothing into something matching hers. A fine, expensive two-piece suit. Still, it’s not changing your current predicament.

“I appreciate the thought, but let’s not get carried away,” you comment, holding your coat and examining yourself. “I mean, we’re still in public and it kinda beats the point of hiding you.”

“No one cares,” she replies back, glancing at the surroundings to back her statement. She’s right; everyone’s got places to go, people to hang out with, that you’re both merely passersby. However, you also notice a heightened increase in police activity. Cops everywhere in the wake of today’s incident, still fresh in your minds. It’s a crowded night with a lot happening. You can get away with almost anything—time to see just how much that means.

“All right. If that’s the case, then I sure wouldn’t mind having a lot of money right now,” you tell her, pulling out your near-empty wallet to see if she can make bread from stones.

Wonyoung shakes her head, more baffled by your actions than anything else. “What are you doing?”

“You said you could do anything and no one would bat an eye,” you say, hiding your rather selfish intentions from her. 

“Oh, absolutely. But I cannot make something out of nothing. Unless you want me to turn your wallet into cash, in which case I can only convert it into the highest value of whatever currency—”

“Okay I get it,” you interrupt, unwilling to listen to all the needless semantics. So you look around and immediately find an alternative—an ATM. Taking her across the street, you lead her to the machine and point your hand towards it. “I suppose you could do something with this then?”

“You do recognize that this is a form of theft and is therefore punishable by law?”

“I thought you said no one cares,” is your reply, slightly raising your voice in frustration. “What the fu—”

“I was merely joking.” Wonyoung shakes her head, smirking at your now dismayed expression, much to her delight. “Hand me your wallet.”

After you do so, she slips your card into the slot and this is where the magic happens. Holding out her hand against the tiny screen asking for the PIN, a faint pinkish glow emanates from her hand before waning out. She correctly enters your number without having to ask, then withdraws the highest amount of cash allowed from the machine.

You squint your eyes looking at the screen, examining the amount of money left in your account as she places the cash into your wallet. Millions, where there wasn’t any. Wonyoung is truly a miracle worker, her powers vast and beyond measure. The possibilities are endless.

“Would you like me to withdraw some more?” she kindly asks, as if you’re a beggar asking for money. You can only stare at her, utterly shell shocked and in disbelief.

Trying to play it cool to futile results, you end up submitting in the littlest voice possible. “I guess we could withdraw enough just for tonight—who am I kidding, do it four more times.”

—————

“Good evening, sir. Ma’am.” The host of this five-star restaurant greets you with a customary gentle bow. It’s a place Wonyoung picked after going through the options on your phone. She already knows this city better  than you do, and you’ve lived here for over a year. “Do you have a reservation?”

Even though you’ve warned her numerous times about the dangers of going out and about in public, she doesn’t listen, insisting you trust her instead. Seeing what she’s done with her powers so far, you’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. All this time, she’s never taken off the sunglasses you’ve given her.

You give Wonyoung a trusting nod. Let her do all the work. She gently presses a finger on her cheek, and out comes that familiar glow of energy bursting from her. The host blinks a few times before seemingly leading you inside without any further questioning. “This way.”

Finding a table for two, you scan your nearby surroundings; the chatter inside the restaurant going radio silent, leaving only the music. Her powers have affected everyone within her vicinity, turning them into mindless zombies. Everyone—except you. 

With your safety guaranteed, Wonyoung finally removes her sunglasses. The way she looks at you with her own two eyes gives you butterflies in your stomach. You have to remind yourself she’s only a mirror, a phantom and not the real Wonyoung. And yet you can’t; you’d like to imagine this is how she would treat you in real life, superpowers or not. Only God knows how you really feel about her. She makes you feel special in a way that’s incomprehensible. It’s hard to act normal in her presence.

With her, you feel like you can do anything.

“Our order’s not gonna be ready for some time,” Wonyoung comments, her eyes skating around the place, ensuring no one escapes her mind control. Her strange dialect and behavior is the clear giveaway, no matter how much you spin it, even if she has incorporated some of your culture into her vocabulary. “So let’s pretend that you’re dating me. How would you satisfy me?”

“Satisfy?” Even though you understood the context right away, your mind is already going there. To places where it shouldn’t be.

“Yes. As in, how would you make a good first impression on me? Or her?” 

Truthfully, you have no idea where to start. For one, Wonyoung’s a celebrity with a status only surpassed by a certain few in her profession. Secondly, you’re working the nine-to-five like most people in this country. There’s no buying your way into her heart, that’s never gonna happen. If anything, she could own you. She has an air of prestige surrounding her, one that makes her nigh untouchable and above everyone else. Sharing a moment, no matter how brief, is a privilege, a miracle in its own right; how much more that you’re out with her in public? It would draw so much attention that you could never live a normal life. Every little thing, every little action, every little mistake would be a damning attack on your character. Something you’re all too familiar with.

So even in a make-believe scenario, you just know you’d lose no matter what. Her question brings you back down to earth.

“What’s up? Was it something I said?” Wonyoung notices the sudden dour expression on your face. 

You can’t even muster the strength to face her. Looking down at the table is the only thing you can do.

“Reach out your hand,” she asks, hoping to get to the bottom of your predicament. It falls on deaf ears, worrying her. 

So she does it herself, grabbing you by the hand, diving headfirst into the recesses of your mind. Her body trembles, levitates above the ground as she runs through your memories, through years of images and moments, both the good and bad.

The emotion is too much to handle. She snaps her eyes wide open, tears falling from her eyes. It’s happening again: a powerful burst of energy ripples through the area, sending everyone and everything flying back. Anyone under her mental spell is taken back to reality, with seemingly no recollection of their actions during her control.

Immediately realizing what she’s done, she tries to fix everything by herself, ignoring that you were pushed back by her blast too.

“Wonyoung? What did you do?” you ask, before looking around and seeing the complete clusterfuck. Your concern turns to panic. “Not again.”

She’s too focused on correcting her mistakes to hear you. She immediately uses her powers to brainwash everyone again, placing a finger on her temple, resembling that of a familiar professor. Under her command, every person in the building autonomously works on cleaning her mess, though some damages, like the cracked walls and the broken lights, are far beyond fixing. 

But the strain of using her abilities excessively catches up with her, causing her to snap violently before quickly collapsing to the ground. Soon after, everyone is freed from her mind control again.

“Oh God—not again, not again.”

While everyone in the restaurant tries to collect themselves and figure out what’s happened to them, you drag Wonyoung outside and conceal her behind the darkness of an alleyway, fanning her with a rolled up magazine to keep her conscious. Thankfully, she’s groaning audibly in pain, which means she isn’t as hurt as you initially thought.

Tilting her head to the side, unable to open her eyes, she weakly murmurs, “It happened again?”

“It happened again. We’re not doing this anymore. Let’s just find a hotel and call it a night.”

—————

You weren’t taking any risks this time. You’ve booked yourselves the cheapest, nearest hotel you can afford, even with all the money at your disposal. It’s not like you’ll stay here for days. After all, you’ve called in a favor: a friend to borrow their car, intending to drive as far away from civilization as possible. 

Wonyoung has kept herself quiet and distant ever since. You can hear her mumbling something, but you’re unsure exactly what. She stares distantly at the wall, deep in thought.

“Get plenty of rest. We’ll be traveling quite a lot in the coming days. It won’t be comfortable, I tell you now,” you say, offering her a glass of water to recuperate.

Snapping from her haze with your voice, she turns to her side, seeing your kind gesture toward her. She’s unable to bring herself to look directly into your eyes, frightened about the possibility of hurting you again. She tries to reach out her hand, almost takes the cup from your grasp, but ultimately gives in to her doubt and pulls back, unable to accept your offer.

So you place the drink by her bedside and leave her alone with her thoughts.

After having quite the eventful day, the couch is looking like the most comfortable place to be in right now, even more than the bed. All of it is barely sinking in; you’re still under the impression that you’re in a rather elaborate dream that you’re more than ready to wake up from. Everything feels too good to be true.

Right as you’re about to fall unconscious on the sofa, you hear Wonyoung calling your name from the bedroom. You try to sleep it away, but she calls out again. So despite your exhaustion, you decide to check in on her.

She’s still sitting on the bed’s edge, her water partially consumed. You genuinely feel sorry for her. She can’t bring herself to look at you, but she does mutter a little ‘thanks’ in appreciation for your kind gesture.

Sitting beside her, your hand intertwines with hers. Warm, calming, comforting. 

“It’s getting late,” you murmur, glancing at the clock set next to the bed, 10 minutes past 11 in the evening. Your ride will arrive early in the morning. What happens after, you don’t know. “Go to sleep, Wonyoung. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“I don’t require sleep,” she tells you back, reinforcing her status as an alien.

“Well that doesn’t matter to me. You still need some sleep, for your peace of mind—and mine,” you reply.

Wonyoung leans her gaze in your direction, cautious, yet highly fascinated. Even after going through the depths of your mind, there’s still plenty that’s beyond her comprehension. Her observations have reinforced her opinion of you: that you’re truly one of a kind. An anomaly.

“You are quite the lonely soul, and yet you choose to be kind towards those that are cruel towards you,” she comments, softly breathing against your cheek. 

“I wouldn’t say cruel,” you quip, meeting her in the middle. “That sounds a bit excessive.”

“Your memories—they only bring me anger and sorrow,” Wonyoung replies, narrowing her eyebrows thinking about them. “I cannot believe people would choose to hurt others without sound reasoning.”

“That’s just how it is in this world, sadly,” you tell her, blunt and to the point. “But regardless, Mom taught me that a little kindness goes a long way.”

“So, about this Wonyoung: what is it about her? Why are you so attracted to her?” she asks, and you’re staring into her eyes, pretending she’s asking this question herself directly to you.

You pause, contemplate your answers for a moment, before finally responding, “Aside from being the prettiest girl in the world, she just—seems like the ideal girl to me. I mean—she’s really beautiful, she can sing, she can dance, she can write lyrics, and she’s got this natural attitude about her that makes her the perfect celebrity. ”

“Your reasoning sounds—very superficial. Surely there’s something that resonates deeper than merely being a celebrity crush.”

You roll your eyes, feeling a little called out, and admittedly a bit ashamed, even if you’re staring down a phantom of Wonyoung. You’re taken aback by how real every word sounds from her glossy lips. It’s a wake-up call, a vicious but much-needed reality check.

“And as I go through your mind, you have nothing but shallow thoughts and sexual fantasies about Wonyoung,” she continues, using your hand as an outlet to dig through your brain and dissect you. “Perhaps that is why you have taken a liking to me as well. I just so happen to inhabit the form of your greatest desire: this woman.”

She’s caught you red-handed, and well, there’s no getting around it: you want Wonyoung more than anything, even if it’s an impossibility.

“Have I ever told you that your eyes can only see whatever they wish to see?” She’s leaning closer toward you, a bit too dangerous for comfort. “No other being in the universe can gaze at our true form other than ourselves.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but yeah—you do look quite a lot like her,” is your reply, like you’ve just uncovered a world changing revelation.

“Still, I can’t help but wonder: you like this Wonyoung for more than just her looks, but you can’t tell me exactly why,” she says, greatly fascinated by the intrigue.

“I have no idea either. Dead serious. If I knew, I would have told you by now.”

Wonyoung stands in front of you, still holding your hands. Closing her eyes, her powers manifest again, transforming her white jumpsuit into a little black dress, without any skirt, her slender legs in clear view. Smiling sweetly, she offers you an invitation, “What do you say you come and find out with me?”

It’s an offer you’d be hard-pressed to refuse. Forget that she’s an alien. Forget everything that sci-fi media has taught you about fucking extraterrestrial life. If you’re gonna go down, you might as well go down on a high.

—————

You both should be sleeping by now. Instead, you’re making a bit of a mess in your hotel room. Nothing a little magic can fix.

Wonyoung makes sure your gaze stays on her at all times. Any second thoughts disappear the moment she takes you by the hand, and makes you meet at her level. She’s mostly slender legs and arms, of raven-colored hair; it’s easy to imagine what’s beneath her sole layer of skimpy clothing.

“I thought you said I liked her more for something other than sex?” you ask, as if that’s gonna change what’s about to happen.

“Let��s just say I’m trying to appeal to your—hmm—” Wonyoung dips her head, plants her hands on her knees, crouching before you, the word having escaped the tip of her tongue, before she recollects herself. “Humanity.”

With a flick of her fingers, she unbuttons your shirt bottom to top, but you hold the middle button as her magic climbs halfway through your clothing. “No powers,” you tell her, shaking your head. “It’s not as good without doing it yourself.”

She blinks. For a moment, you thought you might have offended her. To your surprise, she gracefully straightens herself out. Without complaint, she takes hold of your fingers, parting them to physically undo the remaining buttons of your shirt.

Taking a moment to feel your bare chest behind your shirt, Wonyoung closes her eyes. She’s wearing a light yet aroused expression on her face—and she’s only touching you. You’re barely scratching the surface of how dirty you can get.

“Oh, that feels really good,” she coos, breathing heavily, her cheeks flustered and flushed bright red. 

You caress her cheek, snap her from this haze. “You haven’t finished undressing me yet.”

In that moment, her eyes pop wide open, embarrassed in feeling herself so soon. “I’m sorry. This is all brand new to me. Our species don’t breed. We’re asexual—”

“Shush.” You place a finger between her lips. “We don’t talk a lot during sex.”

She mouths directly into your finger as if it were a microphone, speaking with a dash of urgency. “Then please show me. Guide me through this.”

“Of course.” 

Planting both your palms on her cheeks, you finally muster up the strength to do something you never thought you’d ever do: kiss Wonyoung straight on the lips. It’s as romantic as you’ve imagined in your wildest fantasies. While you put all your passion into it, she remains frozen in place, unsure of how to react or what to do next.

You take notice, drawing back. “Do you feel it?”

“Feel what?” Wonyoung blinks again, her movements robotic.

“You’re supposed to reciprocate your partner’s feelings,” you tell her, placing your hands on her shoulders. “When I kiss you, give yourself a moment to let it simmer.”

She’s slowly nodding her head, listening intently to every word you say. 

“Now are you ready?” You’re staring into her eyes, twinkling in the dark. You notice her head strengthening, determined to get it right this time.

“Yes. Please kiss me.”

And you’re more than happy to oblige. You grab her by the nape, slip your tongue between her lips this time. More than simply teaching her, you’re living out your innermost desires through Wonyoung. There’s so much electricity, you’re kissing her like your life depends on it. The sensation consumes you: tasting her sweet lips, pull her as close as you possibly can.

As you peek through one eye, you catch Wonyoung relishing in the moment too. Mirroring your hand, she’s gently tugging you close to her, your bodies dangerously close to intertwining. Her kiss feels incredibly warm, irresistible to the touch. Humming between your lips, you sense her fingers clutching deep into your scalp, wrestling for control over you.

A few more seconds interlocked and you would have pushed her hard against the wall.

Tumbling out of the kiss, you’re gasping for air, taken by surprise at how good Wonyoung is. It shouldn’t be; her lips are naturally designed to be smooched, to be felt.

“So what now?” Wonyoung leans back against the wall, still looking innocent and angelic.

You answer through action: coat, pants, shoes, and boxers quickly come flying off your body as you quickly undress before her. She takes a moment to stare you down intently, especially making your erection a point of emphasis. It should feel awkward, but it isn’t; if anything, you feel comfortable baring yourself like this.

Wonyoung pulls down one of the straps of her body-hugging dress, followed by the other. Gravity does the rest. Letting it fall down her slender legs, she’s reduced to—nothing. Only bare, naked flesh.

You can’t help but mutter out your thoughts to the wind. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

Likewise, you take a moment to drink in the sight of Wonyoung’s naked presence. You could honestly let her stand there and do nothing, and she would still end you every time. The thought greatly arouses you, your hand instinctively grabs your cock, begins slowly stroking right in front of her.

God, you really feel shameless right now. Your vision blurs, her presence far too divine to comprehend.

“What are you doing?” she curiously asks, puzzled—and a little amused—by your strange action. Her demure expression only serves to stir you further.

“Ah. Shit. I can’t help it,” you mutter, vacantly keeping your gaze at Wonyoung, mockingly shaking your wrists, playing coy to the fact she’s seemingly naive to your deepest intentions. Leading her back to the bed, you command her, “Get on your knees.”

She’s certainly pliant, down to do anything you say without a complaint. You take as many mental pictures of the scene: the prettiest idol on Earth, kneeling lowly before you, your cock inches away from her face. An unforgettable sight.

“You see this?” Pointing at your hard cock, aiming in the direction of her pretty lips. “I want you to put your lips between them.”

The instruction sounds ridiculous to her ears. “You want me to—kiss your penis?”

You nod your head, reaffirming your stance. “Yeah. Also, just call it cock for me, please.”

Wonyoung takes a moment, hesitant to follow through. You can wait as long as she wants, cupping her cheek and tilting her face up to meet yours. “Tell me if it’s too much. I won’t hurt you. Promise.”

Your little reassurance gives her the strength she needs. 

The tip of her tongue peeks out, carefully approaching the bottom side of your shaft, shaking the closer it gets. The initial point of contact makes her flinch, pushes her away, jerks you violently onto the mattress. You barely manage to hold yourself together. If this is only a tease, you can imagine how the real thing would be like.

Then she tries again, swallowing up what fear she has left—and everything clicks.

The moment her lips part, making way for your tip, you almost lose control. It takes every last bit of your resolve not to unload right then and there. The sweet sensation of her lips feels even better on your cock than against your mouth. You’ve never felt this much ecstasy till now. 

Slowly but surely, as her mouth fills itself with cock, her cheeks hollowing out, poking through her throat, she immerses herself in the feeling of taking you deep. Her nose is poking against your shaft; her bottom lip kissing the underside of your length. Little pleasing sucking noises escape her lips. 

It’s powerful enough to make you question your knees’ ability to stay upright. A fistful of her hair is your only lifeline here.

Even in this unorthodox manner, Wonyoung seems to have a natural way to overwhelm your senses. But like always, she manages to straighten herself out, and gets to properly using your cock. All she needs is a single touch for her to understand everything.

Soon, she’s all over the place. Releasing you from her mouth at random intervals, stroking you with her deft, slinky fingers while twisting and licking every inch of your cock, before popping them back inside with the lewdest expressions imaginable. All this insane suction builds a violent, twisting knot in your stomach. It gets to a point where your groans of pleasure muffle her gentle hums of satisfaction. 

You want her to stop, to keep her from ending you so soon. But the bliss is far greater and worth the early tradeoff. She appears so committed to the act, that interrupting her would be utterly disrespectful. Especially when your cock is so deep inside her throat, that unloading inside that mouth would be its deserved reward.

So you cling on. Cherishing the little glimpses of Wonyoung sucking you dry, relishing in what little you catch for as long as you can, because you know you’re on borrowed time. 

“Fuck—so fucking—good—fucking—amazing—shit—” you sputter, watching her bob up and down your shaft, shooting you a stare back, seeking for approval, which you’d happily give—if you weren’t drowning in bodily pleasure. It’s unbelievable how natural she moves, as if she never needed help to begin with.

As your vision narrows, the only thing left that remains are blurs, flashes, vague images and sloppy sounds. Of brown eyes. Of dark hair. Of plump, swollen lips. Any moment now, she’s gonna get it. The friction builds, and builds, and builds, until—

“Wait.”

It’s the loudest thing heard in the room. 

Wonyoung releases her velvety grip, but not without delivering one more parting shot: a slide of her tongue down to your base. You feel your whole world spiraling beyond comprehension.

At least you can save what little authority you have left.

Then you look at her, her face smeared in shades of you, and you’re already regretting not going all the way.

Too late for that, too late for everything. Your mind goes blank, unable to form a coherent train of thought, much less say a word.

Silence fills the room, with Wonyoung continuing to stare wide daggers at your soul, waiting in anticipation. Her breath barely a tickle against your skin, but still dangerously hot, sending chills all over your spine.

More importantly, she clears the fog in your head.

So you scoop Wonyoung off the floor, her slender legs wrapping themselves around you, then fall back onto the bed. Leaning back on the headboard, guiding her on top of your lap, making her straddle your waist, letting her above you. Her lips close the gap between you, sinking into you with a deep, passionate kiss.

The rest of the night could only be kisses and tender cuddles, and you would feel satisfied.

But as you spread your thighs wide, the pressure between you thickening, she leans to your ear, and gives you a simple request: “Let me feel every inch of you.”

In that voice—in that low, hushed, lethal tone—it’s a miracle you don’t come undone on the spot.

Bracing herself on your shoulders and chest, Wonyoung stares directly into your eyes as she sinks onto your lap. Taking her sweet time, leaving you on edge for a few tense minutes. 

You never see it coming, no matter how heightened your senses are. Her eyes go shut; her mouth hangs, slowly goes slack, releasing a deep, prolonged moan. “Fuck.”

Slowly pressing into your clutch, ensuring every inch of your cock fills her cunt. She makes you throb uncontrollably as she bottoms out, muttering these quiet sighs and little gasps. 

Reduced to nothing but ragged breaths, Wonyoung moves incredibly slow, like you’re both at a standstill. Carefully feeling every inch, every single pulse, every twitch of your cock resting deep in her pussy. You take lease of her back, then her tiny waist, running your hands over her skin, fitting so comfortably in your clasp, admiring her immaculate form. 

Not once has your gaze ever left Wonyoung’s pretty face. You take note of all the fine details; every scrunch, every nerve, every shift on her lips, the flush running all over her features, and she conveys herself so easily. Though tense, you can tell she’s acclimating well, relishing the sensation of your cock deep inside her.

Your fingers burrow deep into her waist, inducing some pressure to make her move faster. And she does. Gets into a slow, steady rhythm, gently bouncing on your lap, giving you a glimpse of your cock disappearing and reentering her cunt. Little squats that ripple through your skin, making music of your flesh slapping hers. Spilling slick that spreads over your thighs. She’s so tight, and so positively dripping.

“Oh God—oh shit—” you mutter, resting your head on her lithe chest, admiring the view right beneath her head. You’ve almost forgotten she’s an alien with how well she fucking rides you. 

“Should I stop?” Wonyoung asks, slowing her hips to a near crawl.

“No no. Keep going.” You look up at her, kissing on her neck, your bodies entangled in a passionate embrace. The bed begins to rock as she picks up the pace in return, crashing against your cock in violent waves that push your willpower to its absolute limit. “You feel so fucking incredible, Wonyoung. So fucking good—”

Even as you’re drowning in rapturous ecstasy, you get a sense that her face is loosening into a smile at your comment. You’re leaving marks on her neck and her collarbones—marks that will never truly disappear, even if she washes them away. 

Her body, on the other hand, is going erratic. Rough. You lean back, content to watch helplessly as she rides herself to oblivion. Her fingers dig into your belly, forming small punctures in your skin. Fucking the words out of her mouth freely, throwing caution to the wind: “Fuck—fuck me—I love it—”

You can’t take it anymore.

Still, you try to endure, to stave off the knot in the pit of your stomach, desperate to savor what little time you have left. At the rate you’re going, Wonyoung’s going to incapacitate you a new one. Brain full of static, it’s only a matter of when, not if. Gears turning everywhere in your body, vision blurring out again, a familiar sight—

And it ends abruptly, just like that.

Balls deep in her cunt, your loud groan bounces around the four walls of this tiny bedroom, with Wonyoung sinking herself down to your hilt. Her chest heaving, your breaths heavy, it’s all too much. The hefty load of cum you blast inside her is alarming. Spilling onto the sheets, onto your thighs, keeping you bound together to the soul. 

After quite the experience, Wonyoung’s all rosy cheeks and sweet smiles. As if she didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life. 

She carefully shifts herself off your lap. Thick streaks of your cum keep your bodies together, until they gradually break apart. Staring at the ceiling is the only way you’ll make sense of this, and even after, you don’t know whether you’ll regret it or not.

“I don’t sleep,” she says, and that’s all you needed to hear. 

You cup her cheek, kiss her, and climb over her as you start making out into the dead of night. 

—————

“We have to go.”

Wonyoung’s voice stirs you awake from deep slumber. Hours have gone by and the last thing you remember is kissing her on the couch between your last orgasm. Opening your eyes, you’re greeted by the bright silhouette of her slim figure draped in a white bathrobe leaning forward in front of the window, peeking through the curtains. 

Gathering your bearings, you join her in scouting the situation. It’s dire. Half a dozen black vehicles parked outside the hotel with sunglasses-wearing agents asking everyone about seemingly suspicious activities, backed by men in hazmat suits wielding some kind of extraterrestrial radar technology similar to the one your friends were using. 

Then you turn to one of the clocks, and realize you’re already 30 minutes late to the meeting point.

You face Wonyoung with a look of great concern and unease. “Shit.”

There’s no time to waste; your friend has already sent a few texts saying he’s already at the rendezvous as recently as 20 minutes ago. Going down to the lobby through the main points would be the stupidest decision you’ll ever make, and you’ve had your fair share of blunders. The last thing you’d ever want to happen is for Wonyoung to use her powers and blow your already failing cover, so that option is off the table too. The only way you’ll both make it out in one piece is through one of the fire exits and marked escape points.

“I don’t think your powers are gonna get us out of here,” you tell her, hastily packing what little belongings you have. “And I think it’s for the best that you don’t use them.”

“How come? Just give me a chance. I promise I won’t mess everything up.”

“How do you think they know we’re here?” you question her, unconvinced with the idea that she can somehow control her powers overnight. “It’s because they’re aware of your presence. Two random incidents of a similar nature happening overnight?”

“They were both accidents, okay? I’ve got it under control. Trust me.”

You still don’t buy it, insisting she keep her powers in check, at least for now.  “Fine. But only when I tell you to. And only when I tell you to. Got it?”

Wonyoung nods, delighted that she’s gotten through you—even a little.

Taking the girl with you, you slip into the nearest fire exit of your hotel room’s floor, scurrying down the stairs as fast as you can. 

By the time you reach the ground floor, you learn from Wonyoung that the exits are a labyrinth in and of themselves. You can be found anywhere at any given time. Your safety comes at a difficult choice: to rely on blind luck, or to give her the green light to use her powers. 

Turning to Wonyoung, you can see her pleading with her eyes. To let her do her thing. The risk is far too great given the circumstances. And God knows if they’ve got an elaborate plan to isolate her and capture her, making your escape efforts all for naught. Nevertheless, you have to act quickly.

Backed into a corner, you give her a little nod, the signal she needs to shine.

And Wonyoung truly shines. As in, she tells you to cover your eyes before emitting a powerful flash of energy bright enough to cover a several mile radius. Even through your hands, the light proves to be blinding. Even as the dazzling gleam gradually fades out, you find it difficult to see, let alone walk straight. 

Then you feel a sharp tug of your hand, your feet dragging along by its pull, before you realize what’s going on and you just start running. No other thoughts, only run, run like your life really depends on it. Eventually, your eyes meet daylight, and your sense of sight is properly restored. 

She did it. Wonyoung got you both out of there completely unscathed. And she doesn’t collapse, doesn’t faint like she usually does after exerting herself. A miracle.

“What did you do?” you ask her, to which she replies with a gummy smile: 

“Kept all their electronics and radars down for a while. Give or take, I’d say we have 30 minutes to an hour. They didn’t know what hit them, and they never will.”

That’s more than enough time for you to make your way to the rendezvous point on foot a few blocks away. 

She turns herself into her liquid form, disappearing right before your eyes, but not without giving a request that you’re more than willing to do. “Lead the way.”

—————

You find your friend waiting by the restaurant’s entrance, bored out of his mind with all the waiting. He immediately spots you and rises from his seat, visibly frustrated. The poor guy went out of his way to travel from the countryside at your behest. “Man where the fuck were you? I’ve been here for almost an hour.”

“Sorry,” you tell him, pausing to catch your breath after all the running, your legs sore and aching. You’re still human, after all. “Got held up on the way. You know how it is.”

“Never changed after all this time, eh,” he quips, shaking his head, a little cross. “I should have expected this.”

“Fuck off, dude,” is all you can say, patting him by the shoulder. “I’m just glad you came on short order.”

“So you’re all alone? I thought you said you had someone with you.”

Looking around, Wonyoung is nowhere to be found. You weren’t all that worried; if there’s anyone who could look after themselves, it’s most certainly her, but the slight possibility of her capture still creeps in your mind. 

Then you see her emerge from behind the corner of the store, waving at both of you. She’s hiding her face behind your sunglasses, her favorite accessory. “Hey boys.”

“Is that her?” Your friend points a finger at the woman, taken by surprise. “I didn’t know you finally had a girlfriend.”

You laugh the comment off. It was only a one night stand, you’re telling yourself. “She’s—not my girlfriend.”

“Really?” It sounds too good to be true, especially when he looks at her, a perfect match. “She’s certainly your type, all right. How long have you been dating?”

Nervously laughing, you struggle to answer right away. “Well—it’s only been—”

“Two days.” Wonyoung answers for you.

“Two days?” Your friend pops an animated expression, taken aback by the response. “No wonder my boy is down horrendous. My man got into his first relationship and already wants to take her for a cross country road trip.”

She smiles. Regardless of the situation, the one constant is the reassuring gleam of her lips. The moment it disappears, you know something has gone wrong.

Amused by his own remark, his ego partially stroked seeing that he’s made Wonyoung snicker, he hands you the key to his car, a four-door estate wagon. “I’ll need him back in seven days. Grandma’s gonna be mad if she finds out it’s not in her garage.”

That’s more than enough time for you to let the heat around you die down. Perhaps find the answers to many of your burning questions, and maybe change Wonyoung’s mind.

Giving him a friendly dap and a hug, you nod. “Thank you. Really.”

“Hey hey, no need to act soft in front of your girl,” he jests, turning his gaze to the woman, smirking, before facing you again. “Just don’t wreck the thing, all right? Especially after what happened to your apartment.”

He can’t help himself from poking fun at you when you’re already down. Even though it’s only been a day, the apartment explosion feels like a lifetime ago.

Hopping into the driver’s seat, Wonyoung waves your friend goodbye as you drive off, his shape shrinking smaller before disappearing entirely as she looks through the side-view mirror. The destination? Only God knows where. Even when she asks, you simply brush her aside, turning on the radio to keep the mood inside the car less awkward. One thing’s for certain: you’re never coming back here again.

So you drive. As much as you can, only stopping for the occasional refuel. The farther you go, the safer. It’s the only way you can keep Wonyoung safe. From cities to highways, from crowds to empty roads. Eventually you no longer get reception on your phone, rendering all forms of communication impossible. Hours pass; day turns to night. Wonyoung opens the sunroof to get a clear view of the starry skies, the pass of comets and shooting stars. 

They’re calling to her. Her eyes gleam and dilate, as if the cosmos is speaking to her.

Pulling over at an empty motel, you can’t quantify how far you’ve traveled. But seeing as you’re surrounded by nothing but desert, you figure that’s enough distance to go off-radar. As you try to walk in, Wonyoung remains staring upward, stuck in one of those deep states again. 

You call out her name, but to no response. A few moments later, she seemingly snaps from her daze, turning to you, but without saying a word.

Looking up to the stars, you ask her what’s going on. As you did to her earlier, she brushes your concerns aside, telling you there’s nothing to worry about and to focus on settling down for the night.

So you get yourselves a room, unsurprisingly with only one bed. Seeing as Wonyoung herself said she needs no sleep, you figure you can rest easily.

But you can’t. Not when Wonyoung’s cuddled up so close against you, your eyes only fixated on each other. With your gazes alone, you’re both saying a lot without uttering anything at all. She makes the first move, a quick peck of your lips, before immediately pulling away, and just like that, you’re completely disarmed.

Both of you being near naked already makes it easier.

You like Wonyoung when she bounces on your lap, gently moaning between hops and thrusts, every part of her ripped to shreds as you fuck her. She loves it when you run your fingers down her slender frame, brushing her long flowing dark hair, kissing her tummy and chest, taking solace in her warmth. Her pussy fits you like a glove—perfectly snug, perfectly yours. You love it when she’s making these incomprehensible sounds in your ear, delivered in the most saccharine tone you’ll ever hear. She loves it when you tell her she feels so fucking good, so fucking tight—loves it when you gasp in desperation, unable to break free from suffocating hold, resulting in your rapturous climax.

And it hits. Sends devastating shocks all over your body. 

“God—please, let me cum all over that face—” you rasp, using the last of your willpower before your orgasm fully consumes you, calling to her gracious side, but to no avail. Wonyoung takes you for every drop you’re worth, riding you hard while you lean back on the headboard, staring down her tight figure, her stomach contracting between every crash of her hips on yours. She’s so consumed by pleasure to hear you, her eyes shut, biting down on her lip to keep herself muted as she keens out cries of ecstasy.

Even as your cock withers, she can’t bring herself to stop, instead using her powers to spring you back to life for longer. Her lust completely swallows you whole, so much so that you eventually fold and share in her passion, using each other’s bodies till you both give out and keel over.

—————

The day after, as you’re about to leave and drive to who knows where, Wonyoung grabs your hand and stops you. “We should go here,” she says, pointing out a specific area on the vehicle’s GPS. In what appears to be the middle of nowhere, being several hundred miles away.

“How come? We can’t drive there overnight,” you tell her. In a faster car, it’s possible, but your friend’s family wagon wasn’t built for speed.

“That’s fine. We don’t have to hurry, we just have to get there in 5 days.” She uses the built-in GPS to measure the average distance and speed required to reach her intended destination, and you see she’s right again. 

You finally put two and two together, realizing this is where she’ll likely be picked up by her fellow aliens. You obviously don’t tell her that you know, because you know it’ll be best for you to keep silent about the matter. And if they leave without a hitch, it’ll most certainly mean you can return to a normal life sooner. You’re already dreading the days ahead. When she’s no longer with you, you’ll have nothing to lean on. Thinking about living without her bothers you greatly. At some point, you might try to change her mind and make her stay. You recognize that for your own sake and hers, it’s best that you part ways, but it doesn’t change the fact that letting go hurts. Maybe there’s a better solution that doesn’t involve having to say goodbye.

So keep those thoughts in the back of your mind, only focusing on the now. Making the most of her presence while she’s still around, but still keeping other options on the table.

The next few days follow a near-identical pattern: you drive nonstop, only pulling over for fuel, until you reach the next rest area by nightfall. Every night spent with Wonyoung is exploring each other’s bodies, putting her in positions you never thought you’d ever be doing with your favorite idol. At this point, you’ve deluded yourself into thinking it’s the real her, especially as she’s come and fully adjusted herself to earth’s culture, finally nailing her mannerisms and speech. Whatever you want to do, she happily obliges. Whether it’s on the desk, in the shower, on her knees, between her legs, or from behind—for anything and everything, Wonyoung willingly submits. It doesn’t help that her powers keep you up all night, and you’ve never felt any better waking up every single morning than with her by your side.

For the first time in your life, you feel like there’s someone who truly cares. Someone who makes you feel special, makes you feel alive. Now you understand that this was a fated encounter, destiny coming to pass. Intentional or not, she was meant to provide something meaningful: a purpose.

The realization hurts. You’ve already accepted that you have to let her go. You know that when she leaves, you’ll be left with nothing. And that makes it worse.

While Wonyoung sleeps peacefully in your arms, you give her a soft peck on her temple, gently brushing loose strands of her hair. Looking at her sweet face, you can’t help but start sobbing. Fighting back the tears as the end draws near, remembering what your friend said, to keep a cool face while she’s around—

But you can’t.

Your quiet sobs go unnoticed. Looking out the window from the bed, the sky appears dark and gloomy, with bright flashes of lightning passing between clouds. 

The earth is going to cry on your behalf.

—————

You’re wishing the days lasted longer, but here you are, pulling up at the intended destination with hardly any drama. Like most of where you’ve been travelling these past few days, everywhere you look is nothing but empty desert and the occasional tree, even down to the tumbleweeds. As it turns out, you’ve arrived a few hours ahead of schedule. That’s what happens when you’ve been driving on empty roads. Admittedly, it’s a nice change of pace compared to the city. Less noise, less annoying people on the streets.

“So this is it, right?” you ask Wonyoung as both of you are stepping out the car, searching for any signs of life. Nothing. You might be the only two people to have ever willingly stepped foot on this place, considering this doesn’t even have a name on any GPS, map, or on Google Earth.

She nods in agreement. 

“We’re just gonna wait here until something happens, right?” you add, almost slipping out the notion that you know she’s going to leave.

Having gone a few steps ahead of you, Wonyoung looks over her shoulder, catches you leaning by the car’s hood. “You’re going to miss me a lot. I will too.”

Your eyes go wide. Of course she knew all along. Either that or you’ve never been the best at keeping secrets.

“So what happens after? Will you try to exterminate all of us?”

“Truthfully, I have no clue.” Wonyoung turns around and approaches you. “We may be an invasive species, but we do not act until our judge gives his word to attack. But the chances of us sparing a planet? Next to none.”

“So you’re saying the odds are low, but not zero,” you remark, finding some solace in the fact. You’ve seen miracles happen, and you’re not referring to her.

She takes her place beside you on the car’s hood, drawing out a pair of sunglasses from the pocket of her pants. The same ones you’ve given her. Putting them on you, she says, “Protect your eyes, babe.”

Even now, Wonyoung makes you smile. Under her watchful eye and with her powers, she makes sure you’re not burning up under the sweltering sun. The last memory she wishes to impart with you is a reminder of all the good experiences you’ve shared with her. That in the end, she’s about as close to the image you’ve envisioned in her head.

No matter how distant she may be, you belong to her and she belongs to you. Your love for Wonyoung stretches out wider than anything in this universe.

Eventually the sun sets, and day turns to night. The entire time, you’ve never let go of Wonyoung—not until she says so, and she’s more than comfortable staying in your arms. You could honestly cuddle up with her like this no matter how long, God willing. She’s all you need to feel complete.

As the stars in the night sky come out in full force, Wonyoung gently disentangles herself from you as her body glows with a familiar pinkish light. Putting some distance away from you, she begins levitating off the ground. Large waves of dust begin to spiral in a circular direction, separating you further from her. You can’t see through the cloud of dirt other than her bright gleam inside the widening cloud.

Wonyoung floats higher and higher above the ground, met in the air by a faint silhouette in the shape of a UFO. It uncloaks itself and reveals its massive size, larger than the average commercial aircraft in every department. She gradually transforms into a form more resembling the aliens you’ve seen in other media; an incomprehensible silhouette of clear white energy. 

Though you can barely fathom Wonyoung’s appearance, you can tell she’s looking down at you as her and the spaceship rises even higher. No matter how much you’ve been preparing for this moment, you’re still not ready to say goodbye.

All of a sudden, you hear gunshots. Ear-deafening pops and crackles. The roar of other vehicles quickly approaching. You look, and a half-dozen black SUVs are moving angrily towards the direction of the ship, with agents firing from their vehicles. Right on their trail are a pair of white vans. Stopping a few feet from where you’re standing, men in hazmat suits emerge from the vehicles and quickly grab hold of you, pinning you to the ground. 

One of the men in biohazard suits is holding that same alien exposure radar you’ve seen before. “Dangerous levels of extraterrestrial radiation,” he remarks, evaluating his finding on a tiny screen. “You have no idea what kinda threats we’re facing. Who knows what these aliens have already done to you.”

Another agent is holding what appears to be a deadly weapon with the intent to kill. “Nothing personal, but this is for the good of our planet.”

There’s a lot happening all at once. On one hand, the alien is still high above the ground, seemingly frozen mid-air, along with their spaceship. On the other, you have several dozen government agents from an unknown branch trying to shoot the two entities down. And then there’s you, moments away from becoming forgotten forever because you spent a whole week with said alien.

You never wanted any part of this.

As the agent prepares to strike you down from behind, the bright glow in the sky flashes a blinding, colorful gleam of energy, drawing everyone’s attention—including yours. The alien descends down to earth by herself. Transforming into Wonyoung, her eyes gleam bright white, her body surrounded by a wave of power. 

One of the commanders shouts to his men to open fire at her, but she takes no damage from any of their weapons. She lifts her hand, creating a pulse that sends everyone flying back, helping you escape your captor’s binds.

She steps forward and approaches you as you get up from the ground, but the agents won’t quit. Without concern as to you getting caught in the crossfire, more weapons are used, but she casually generates a force field around herself.

Her body is charging up with a colorful flash of energy, threatening to destroy them all. The only thing keeping her from ending everyone’s existence is your voice calling out to her. 

“Stop. Please.”

In that moment, she sees you running toward her, and the fiery glow surrounding her weakens.

Suddenly, a loud bang rips through everyone’s eardrums. It’s a bullet aimed toward her, except your head is standing in the way. 

Mere inches from ending your life, time comes to a complete standstill. Including you.

Wonyoung floats over to you, sees the tears in your eyes, your mouth wide, crying out in desperation. To keep her from going down a dark path. She interlocks your hand with hers, placing her lips against your ear, giving you a gentle kiss.

It’s a bittersweet sound. “Goodbye.”

The last thing you see before your world goes dark is a radiant flash of light. A glimpse of heaven.

—————

You expected paradise to be a land flowing with milk and honey, not a sandy beach along the coastline.

You also expected no pain, no more suffering, not a mild headache as you wake up. So no, you’re not there just yet. But this place might be the closest heaven can be on Earth.

The sun shines directly overhead as you wander around aimlessly in your new surroundings, confused and still reeling from whatever happened in your dream. Luckily, there’s civilization nearby, people included. A welcome sight for sore eyes.

Approaching a man who appears to be waiting for a bus, you go on and ask him, “Do you know where we are?”

He looks at you as if you’re a crazy person for asking such a question. “Eh? You don’t look like you’re from around here. We’re in Lagos, man.”

“Lagos?” Your eyes widen at the response, as equally as confused as he is. The bus arrives in time for him to leave you high and dry, but you follow him inside, still trying to make sense of where you are. 

You ask the bus driver the same question. He gives you the same answer. You really are in Lagos. In a completely different country. A stranger in a strange land.

Upon arriving at the nearest town, you try to give the driver his fare, only to realize you’ve got the wrong currency on hand. But you still pay anyway, nonchalant about the amount, hoping off before he gets a chance to question you.

Soaking in the sights and sounds, the locals are conversing in a language you can’t understand. Even the signs are also a challenge to read. Why you’ve been transported here, you have no idea.

But not all hope is lost. Mercifully, the ATM you find still happens to be completely English. Checking your savings account, you can’t help but stagger back at how much money’s left. It’s more than enough to set you for this life and in the next.

In any other circumstance, you would have been pinching yourself, trying to wake up from this fantasy. But it’s not a dream. This is reality. 

You’re in a better place compared to yesterday.

—————

It doesn’t take long to acclimate to your new life. 

You learn the native language. You open up a small bakery in the heart of the city. The locals quickly accept you as one of their own; you’re in good company. For the first time in a long time, you feel at home.

When you’re not working in the city, you spend your nights staring at the beautiful sky. The little house you’ve bought resting on the hillside is ideal for stargazing. It also helps that Lagos is still a quaint, humble city compared to the metropolises of yesterday. Every now and then, a shooting star flies by; you’re wishing one of them is her. 

You’d happily trade it all for a heartbeat. Just one more opportunity to see her again.

Several months go by. You read the announcement: she’s coming to Portugal for the first time, bringing the rest of the group along with her. It’s been a while since you’ve seen her in concert, so of course you’ve already got the day and date marked on your calendar, as well as the best seats in the house.

She’s still the same person you’ve envisioned in your head after all these years.

At points, you get a sense that she recognizes you with her occasional passing glances. Brief moments in time where you’re taken back: moments that you’ve never forgotten, not in the slightest. But that’s what they ultimately are: fleeting glances.

She may not even be looking at you to begin with. Still, a guy can dream.

After the show ends, you’re ready to move on. Live your life like everyone else. You’re no longer fettered by the past; you’re going to leave it all behind. Everything is new.

As you’re about to open the door to your car, you hear a gentle, familiar voice calling to you.

“Hey.”

You turn around. What you see leaves you completely stunned. Lo and behold, it’s Wonyoung. The real Wonyoung. Live and in living color. Smiling, standing a few feet away by herself, carrying an air of sweet innocence.

You can’t help but drop your car keys.

“I don’t think I know you, but I feel like I should." She picks up the keys off the ground, placing them back into your hand. "Let me get to know you.”

—————

(A/N: In case you're wondering where I've been for a month, it's because of this! This is the longest fic I've ever written, clocking in at barely under 15K words. I've had this idea of a first contact/alien story ever since Supernova Love released (the song and Wonyoung herself fits the tone/concept I was looking into, a godly being not from this planet), so this has been in the works for quite some time. I got way too invested in the story that the smut ended up half-baked, but I hope you enjoy the overall narrative regardless. I considered just posting this without the smut (as I had written the whole plot and edited before even writing a single word of smut, but still wanted to add some fanservice XD). Anyway, I'm looking forward to IVE Empathy; not a big fan of Rebel Heart, but knowing IVE, their title tracks never miss.)

(I'd like to give special thanks to @msafterhours for helping me with the ending, as well as offering general advice in fixing the narrative; this is my favorite fic I've written since Too many nights in part due to the greater emphasis I placed on the plot and characters. Thank you for reading!)

[hwallazia]

SWEET, SWEET VENGEANCE – 최산

⋆ synopsis. you give san a taste of his own medicine, taking the lead and setting the tone yourself.

pairing. boyfriend! san & fem! reader.

wc. 0,9k

warnings. sub! san & mean-ish dom! reader, suggestive language ofc, nipple sucking/play, cowgirl position (riding), petnames (love, good boy, sannie & more), dacryphilia?, implied edging, creampie, teasing, praise, dirty talk, slight overstimulation, so much whining, just a normal scenario of a desperate sannie <3

nic’s notes ⋆ three san fics in a row—sorry not sorry tho! he’s the one who posted that slutty pic & i just couldn’t resist— oh, slight update, i’m currently working on a hongjoong ask i recently got, so look forward to it <3

okay but imagine riding san so fucking harshly that you have him whining and panting for air underneath you. 

he’s the prettiest babbling mess and his desperation’s only growing stronger with each passing second, indecisive hands roaming all over your naked, bouncing body. the pleasure is so great that he can no longer feel his fingertips, so his hands surrender and fall helplessly to the messy sheets.

tears decorate his frowned expression, and sweat streams down the sides of his face as messy locks of hair stick to his glistening forehead. he stopped breathing through his nose some time ago, the exhaustion so overwhelming that he can only draw breath through parted lips. occasionally, his wet tongue flicks over the rim of his lips, moisturizing them slightly.

“y-yn, love— mgh!” your warm walls clench around his length purposely, stealing the words from his mouth; a proud smirk appears on your lips at the delightful sound. the clash of his hips with the wet flesh of your ass deafens him. “please.. slow down a b-bit!” his words grow in pitch, a squeaky tone replacing his baritone. 

“don’t wanna.” you spit out, your tone drowning in nonchalance. “just shut up and take it, that’s what you always say to me, right?”

he sobs, his voice cracking. “b-but—“

“no buts, sannie.” your hand flies towards his sweaty cheekbone, your reassuring thumb providing sweet ministrations. a lovely, yet devilish smile curves your lips up. “take it like a good boy.”

san whines and curses under his breath, his head rocking backward as precious tears escape from the corner of his half-lidded eyes. his frown deepens as the delicious, purple veins of his neck pulsate strongly; his lids almost falling shut. he babbles something you can’t quite understand. “what d’ya say, baby?”

he bats his wet eyelashes as his pleading eyes peer into yours, almost like a silent imploring. “this ‘s torture” he rambles, hiccuping a tad bit in mid-sentence. 

“oh really?” you stop your movements before pushing—more like forcing your body upwards, easing san’s hardened cock from the warm embrace of your walls. his length immediately bobs up and slaps against his chiseled abs, throbbing helplessly. the soft plea that escapes his lips penetrates your core almost violently. “‘cause it seems to me that you’re..” your index ghosts over his velvety, leaking tip, the strong jolt of san’s hips almost making you lose your balance. “enjoying this. maybe a bit too much.” 

“mhn! baby—babybabybaby” he pathetically cries out—words falling off his lips like a mantra, failing completely at trying to keep his shuddering bottom lip trapped between his perfect row of white teeth. “please just go slower, you’re g-gonna make me—hmph!”

san’s words get caught inside his throat the moment you slam your hips down in a swift motion, more tears pooling in his eyes. his lower body shifts relentlessly, almost as if he’s trying to escape from the overwhelming stimulation. a sinister chuckle rumbles through your chest before you slap his thigh harshly. “stop running and take it like i know you can.”

and that stirs something deep within him, a soft stroke to his submissive facet. you know he can take it, so there’s no excuse, no reason behind all that whiny and pathetic behavior of his. 

sharply contoured arms wrap around your bouncing figure, fingers clutching your stuttering hips, ‘cause you’re no different from him. you’re close to the edge as well, but you can’t afford to let the mask slip. 

exasperated sighs and soft cries pour out of san’s swollen lips, his phalanges clinging to your body for dear life. he can’t bring himself to stare down to where your bodies connect, ‘cause he’d cum right then and there. instead, he buries his face in your breasts, spitting and attaching his warm tongue to your perky nipples.

you slow down the pace a tad bit, so he can comfortably suck on your tits. how considerate of you. “fuuuck, that’s a good boy.” you coo at him, stroking his hair lovingly. in response, san’s cheek nuzzles even deeper into the soft flesh of your chest, humming delightfully as the petname strikes a spark into his limbs. 

now, you can’t bring yourself just to be mean to him and deny him another release. your soothing hand travels from his nape to his cheekbone. you lift his head before speaking. “y’ wanna cum, pretty boy?”

san writhes beneath you, wiggling his hips like a dog. “yesyesyes” he gulps dryly. a painful cough follows his pleas. “yes please—i’ll do whatever.” he rasps with a blissed-out expression decorating his beautiful face.

“then let go, angel.” 

with shaky breaths, he meets your thrusts by lifting his hips powerfully. the ambition to finally surrender and let go clouds his senses, as his back arches beautifully. his jaw drops, his limbs go numb and his cheeks hollow when he bursts inside you, white shoots of cum painting your insides white. you cum not long after, your convulsing walls strangle his poor softened girth; san let out whiny and shuddering whimpers in response. “f-fuck baby stop—stop please, ‘s too much.”

you stare down at his doe-eyes as your malicious mind schemes one final tease. you pinch his hardened nipple as you simultaneously clamp down his cock. san’s body jolts upward while you coax one final, delicious moan from him.

he juts his bottom lip, sulking. “why’re you so mean.”

you kiss his irresistible pouty lips, your soft chuckle soothing san’s chest. “you love it.”

he sighs as he takes in the scene, helplessly in love with you on top of him. “guilty as charged i guess.”

| masterlist

[bombuni]

Did.... did you say stuck-porn scenario San?? I'm gonna need that asap please👀 your writing is so yummylicious it's not even funny

rock & a hard place

summary: your roommate lends a helping hand. genre/pairing: roommate!san x fem!reader warnings: smut 18+ mdni, softdom!san x reader, unwanted creampie, kinda size kink, slight dubcon, so pls read with caution :) bom note: me writing jongho smut after jongho smut and forcing myself to write other member smut - i can’t put down the cup, i can’t put down the cup💔💔

You’re humiliated.

You’re not sure how you managed to fit your entire front half into the dryer, but the panic inside you is rising with every second that passes. The confined space of the machine is only making it worse as you try to fight your way out. Seriously, you swore this was only something that happens in porn.

You can’t even reach your phone. The last resort, the most embarrassing one, is to call your roommate.

Your voice is quiet at first, embarrassment shrouding your entirety. San is an understanding sweetheart, you know that, but he is unfortunately also one of the most handsome men you’ve seen. To have him seeing you like this, with practically naked in just your panties and bent over is what the kids call ‘an aura-loss.’

He comes running the second time you call for him, hearing the panic in your voice, “Are yo-ah.”

San covers his eyes at first, taken aback by the sight of your naked body. Even though you can’t see him gawking, he still feels too awkward to do it unashamedly. Your little plump ass is literally on display for him, in your adorable Hello Kitty patterned panties, and he can’t help it when his face sets on fire. Or when his shorts grow tight.

Hearing the realization in his voice only makes you want to disappear even more, “I’m so sorry, San, I was just getting my clothes. I don’t know how I got stuck.”

He’s still frozen in place and scared to touch you, “Don’t be sorry. I’m just-uhh. How do you want me to get you…out?”

San tries to psych himself up behind you, softly slapping himself as if that’ll get rid of his raging boner. He can’t rip his eyes away from your ass.

“Just-do what you need to, San.”

With your permission, San grabs your hips firmly. His hands send electrifying tingles throughout your body, but you have no choice but to ignore it. You don’t realize that San is fighting the same urge behind you, squeezing your hips and caressing your skin under the pretense that he’s finding a better grip. He never noticed how soft your skin is until now.

He pulls once, to no avail. The second time, he accidentally bumps against you with the force he uses. San mutters out a swear at the feeling, almost cumming right then and there. His hard-on isn’t helping, with every little inch he moves he’s in jeopardy of letting you know how hard he is.

But, he can’t help himself. You’re just so tempting, if anything it’s your fault for walking around like this. He rubs himself once on you, playing it off as an accidental touch, but he immediately needs more once he feels you. He’s dizzy with need, dizzy with you, and he just can’t resist the climbing urge he’s feeling to seize this opportunity you’ve presented him with.

San keens over, leaning onto the dryer in front of him, “Sh-shit,”

You feel him. You feel his desperate cock, his hot breath against your back, and the growing heat of his entire body. He feels your body shudder at the size of his bulge as it presses against you and he can’t help but think that maybe you want this just as bad as he does.

San tentatively inserts his fingers under the band of your panties, “Just-need better grip-hah-okay?”

“W-wait, San!”

He pulls your underwear off with one swift tug, groaning when he sees your slick glistening in the dim light. You’re shaking and he can’t help but find your little pathetic pleads adorable.

“You won’t get out of here until I help. So just let me help you, okay?”

He sounds so beautiful when he’s desperate and needy, and there’s really nothing you can do but submit to him. You don’t have time to react before you feel the cold metal of his rings rubbing through your folds. You hear his breathy moans as he continues exploring you, feel his shaky fingers trying their hardest to hold back. His other hand struggles to hurriedly get himself out of his sweatpants, already leaking and tip red with need. You suddenly feel San’s lips on the small of your back. A kind warning kiss, you fear, for what’s to come.

He whispers gently, as if trying not to scare you off, “You just can’t be walking around like this and expect not to be fucked, baby,”

The sound of his soft, gentle voice is like a key to your soul. You reply just as gently, “I know, Sannie, ‘m sorry…”

He drags his cock over your folds, surprising you. You can’t see what he’s doing, so every time he touches you it’s a complete shock to your senses. He seems to enjoy your little shivers and nervous shakes. He likes to see how vulnerable you are, how he’s in complete control of you and everything that’s happening to you. San keeps dragging himself between you, collecting your juices on himself.

He seems to drown in this feeling, swallowing every quiet whine you give and using it to fuel his domineering air, “Really, you did this on purpose-shit-just to get me to fuck your brains out. Why didn’t you just ask, dolly?”

“It wasn’t on purpose…”

“So cute. Your little, wet pussy is dripping, baby. You like this, don’t you? You like it when I force you to get fucked?”

San doesn’t even give you the chance to respond before sliding his cock inside of you. He shushes you when you complain, holding your arms back and still so you don’t hurt yourself. Although he likes watching your little shakes of defiance, how adorably useless you are against him. He soothes you through the stretch of him, groaning alongside your whines as he feels you suck him in.

He bottoms out, whining as you clench around his length, “No, no, dolly, quit that. I’ll cum in your tiny pussy, we don’t want that, do we?”

You aggressively shake your head as San starts to fuck you, all caution thrown to the wind with his harsh thrusts. You’re embarrassed by your loud squelching, but you hardly have time to think about that with San’s length hitting practically every inch of your insides. His moans are adorably whiny, breathy as the barely-there restraint leaves his body and he fucks you with even more vigor. He’s spurred on by the feeling of your tiny body against his, your pathetic attempts of freeing yourself only adding to his pleasure.

“Hah-you’re so tight, sweetheart. I really can’t help myself, might have to claim you forever,”

“S-sannie, no, I said no-“

He’s rabid in his taking of you, holding your wrists tight as he grows closer to the edge, “Oh, god, you’re so cute, this tiny, little pussy’s gonna be mine forever-“

“San!”

San holds your hips tight, fingernails digging into your skin and moaning sweetly as he pulls you into him, his cum flowing freely inside you. He pulls so hard in the haze of his orgasm that your entire body falls back with the force and onto him.

He’s still in the throes of his orgasm, yelping as you fall onto him and he lands on the floor. It’s cold against his ass cheeks, and he’s blushing hard once the post-nut realization hits that he came so hard he managed to pop you out. San decides this is probably on his list of worst orgasms.

Your face is flushed as you turn to him, “That’s what you get for cumming inside.”

He has the decency to look sheepish, “Sorry…”

[osachiyo]

" LEMME HIT YOU WITH THAT DUMB DICK ! "

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — dazai, chuuya, jouno (+ tecchou), oda, sigma x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — [n]sfw content, somnophilia, these are random scenarios ok don't come at me, degradation, humiliation, doggystyle, rough, getting caught, pussy slapping, s.ex at work, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected s.ex (be careful babes), praise, creampie + etc • this was originally supposed to be their fav places to fuck but i had to scrap that bc i lost motivation :') anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! not proofread soz babes

ps. reblog to show your favorite writers support, they're greatly appreciated ! <3

⁰¹ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — fucking you in a storage room of the agency

This man is a sex fiend, so of course he would love to fuck you literally anywhere anytime. Though he can't lie, being balls deep in your juicy little cunt at work — risking both of your dignities and possibly your jobs has him harder than a fucking rock.

"Osamu— what if we g-get caugh— mmh-!" you let out a muffled moan as dazai delivered a particularly harsh thrust into your cunt, effectively shutting you up. "Relaaaax, sweet thing — almost no one c-comes here — fuck, you're so damn tight," Dazai panted into your ear, hot breath making a chill run down your spine — back arching even further against his chest.

"God, you're so good f'me — so warm 'n right, fuck!" each word was rushed, dripping with lust — the desperation in his voice made you wanna look at his pretty face, pussy clenching just from imagining how good he'd look with his hair disheveled — his usual doe eyes narrowed and a deep blush covering his skin, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his hair stick to his forehead —

Your train of thought got cut off abruptly when Dazai slapped his hand over your mouth, before his hushed voice reached your ears, "shh, stay still f'me, sweetheart."

You were about to question it when you heard the president's voice from just behind the door. The door of the room you were currently getting your back blown out in.

"Yes, I keep hearing strange noises from this one room in particular," you heard fukuzawa's muffled voice — the thought of your boss catching you in the act made your pussy flutter around Dazai’s length, making the brunette grunt in response.

"Are you trying to get us caught, darl'?" Dazai hissed into your ear — oops, you unintentionally clenched down again upon hearing the keys jingle from the other side of the door. Luckily Dazai was ready for it this time, and managed to bite down on your shoulder before he could get a sound out.

"W-what do we do, 'samu? He’s gonna come in!" you whisper-yelled, panic settling in your bones when you saw the doorknob rattle — but before he could unlock the door fully, you heard the high pitched voice of another worker, "president! an important client has come to personally see you."

"Hm, alright. looks like i'll have to tell someone else to take a look in this room later. Let’s go,"

You let out a breath of relief once the footsteps faded away, leaving you both in complete silence until dazai decided to speak up —

"You clenched reaaal hard when he was about to open the door — don't tell me you actually wanted us to get caught, did you, naughty girl?"

⁰² 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 — having you suck him off in his office

Chuuya's job as an executive of the mafia is stressful, to say the least. Not to mention some of the idiotic workers not doing their job right never fails to make his blood pressure go especially high — his anger issues doesn't help his case at all. But what does help is his sweet sweet girlfriend giving him some... 'under the table service' at work.

Chuuya's fist slammed against the hardwood desk, a loud 'thwack!' echoing in the room,

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" he sneered at the poor man in front of him — who couldn't help but flinch at seeing his boss so angry at him failing to complete a simple report.

Truth be told, Chuuya wasn’t really that mad at the worker, for the report at least — he was just.. super on edge from you deep-throating his cock under the goddamn table. He struggled to think properly, and the poor worker interrupting his private moment with you really ticked him off. Can you really blame him though?

How could he think straight with your skilled tongue swirling around his glossy tip so sinfully — fucking tease. Oh and the way you peered up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes glazed with a dreamy haze.

It all made his head spin like crazy.

“-ir, I can re-do it if you would like me to..” Chuuya’s train of thought unfortunate got cut off short, blue eyes snapping back to the man before him — right, the report.

“A-ahem — alright. Have it finished by 6 pm.”

Chuuya hated the way his voice cracked, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands as he tried not to moan out loud when you fully took him nose deep in that right, sweet little throat— shamelessly rutting your hips into his crazy expensive slacks, rubbing your juices all over the smooth, polished material.

You felt Chuuya’s fingers entangle themselves in your hair immediately after hearing the ‘click’ of the door shutting — the guy must’ve finally left.

You couldn’t help but gasp as you were pulled up from the cold, hard floor — and being shoved onto the desk instead.

You felt your pussy throb in your lacy panties as Chuuya spread your legs open — two fingers pressing and prodding at your cunt before sliding the flimsy material to the side,

“Now, let’s get into the real fun, shall we darl’?”

⁰³ 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐎 — teaching tecchou how to eat you out properly

Jouno was a good friend. Even though he might've had a tendency to be a little harsh and.. sadistic at times, he wasn't a bad person. I mean, he had to be atleast a decent person for teaching his inexperienced co-worker how to eat pussy — specifically, his own girlfriend's.

"No, not like that you fucking idiot —" Jouno grumbled, pulling Tecchou's head off of your cunt as he blinked in confusion like a lost puppy, sticky strings of your arousal still attached to his lips. "What do you mean? She's clearly enjoying it.."

"I mean that you can do better. You do want to make her feel fuckin' amazing, don't you?" Jouno raised a questioning brow. "Well, of cour—" "Then start acting like it."

A gasp left your honeyed lips when Tecchou's face was pushed back against your cunt — hot tongue working with even more fervor as he ate you out like he had been starving for days.

"Oh fuck — feels so g-good, sai," you whimpered out — head thrown back and your tongue threatening to loll out from the sheer pleasure the man between your legs was giving you. "Yeah, baby? Feels good when Tecchou eats that sweet cunt out reaaaaal good, huh?" Jouno's tone was condescending — his lips curled up into a cocky smirk.

“Y’smell so sweet - taste so sweet -” Tecchou's voice was low and dripping with need — your pussy throbbed from just how desperate he sounded.

"A-ah shit - can feel you throbbin' on my tongue, princess —" he groaned, tongue flattening against your clit as he shook his head side to side.

You babbled out Jouno’s name like a prayer — all while the man between your legs worshipped your cunt like it was his god, pink tongue repeatedly flicking your clit, making you see stars as your hole stretched around two of his slim fingers.

“Please — wanna c-cum s’ba- mmh!- ,” you let out a strangled noise as a harsh slap landed on your soaked pussy, clit throbbing as you threw your head back once more. “Fuckin’ slut, so damn eager to cum on another man’s tongue in front of your boyfriend, hmm?”

“Don’t — ah fuck, squeezin’ so tight ‘round my fingers, baby - don’t be so mean, Jouno,” Tecchou threw a side glare to the man next to him, which only earned a shrug from said man, “quit talking and enjoy the meal, dumbass. She’s close.”

And enjoy the meal he did — lapping up every single drop of your sweet juices so enthusiastically you’d think that he hadn’t eaten in days.

⁰⁴ 𝐎𝐃𝐀 — morning sex with him

Mornings with your husband, Oda Sakunosuke, were sweet, blissful and filled with love. Sometimes he'd surprise you with breakfast in bed, it's the least he can do considering everything that you do for him, is what he says. But sometimes — you crave him instead of the delicious food.

“My pretty girl,” Oda smiled sleepily, moving some of your hair out of your face to admire your effortless beauty — blissfully unaware to how his deep morning voice made your heart flutter in your chest, and your pussy throb with need.

You grinned back, scooting closer into his arms as you gazed into his deep brown eyes, “pretty enough to fuck?”

Oda raised a questioning eyebrow, full lips curling into a grin, "oh? that's the game we're playing, love?" Strong arms wrapped around your bare figure, the marks of last night still fresh on your skin — a reminder to how he fucked you dumb on his cock only a few hours prior.

You felt your face burn from the memories of last night rushing back into you — god, you two were insatiable - you're sure Oda fucked you in every single position in the book, and it did nothing but make you crave him more.

"Still with me, darling?" he lightly tapped your cheek, snapping you back to the present. You nodded, a gasp falling from your lips as big, calloused hands found themselves groping at your tits, pinching at your cute nipples as he pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck — his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there.

"O-oda—"

"shhh, baby — lemme do all the work, yeah?"

And that's how you ended up with your face pressed into the pillows — silken bedsheets tangled around your bodies as Oda fucked his fat girth into your sopping cunt nice 'n deep.

A large hand was pressing your back into the meanest arch ever — strong hips slamming against the fat of your plush ass with each deep thrust, thick mushroom tip prodding at your g-spot - making you bleat out your husband's name pitifully. Oda only pushed your head deeper into the soft pillows — clearly too lost in the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him.

He watched his cock slipped in and out of your pussy so easily — your slick covering his balls down to his thighs. Oda groaned deeply in his throat as he watched a creamy ring form around the base of his cock — your cunt sucking him in so eagerly that he almost thought it hurt for you to let him go.

You let out a particularly loud moan as Oda's cock hit that one spot in you — you could only bite down on the pillow as your eyes shut closed, pussy slobbering shamelessly all over his length.

"Oh? Did you like— argh! - t-that spot, sweet girl?"

⁰⁵ 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 — fucking you in your sleep

Sigma was a busy man — with running the sky casino and being part of the decay of angels didn't leave too much alone time with just him and you — especially for some.. intimacy. You knew he needed to relieve himself someway — all that workload while being pent up as fuck certainly wasn't good for him. Plus, you have been craving him as well.. so you came up with an easy solution.

The door to your shared bedroom clicked open — your beloved boyfriend, Sigma, letting himself in as his eyes racked over the entire room, searching for anything out of the ordinary — you did tell him that you had a surprise for him, after all.

Upon finding nothing, he stalked over to the bed, confusion lacing his features as he glanced over at your sleeping form. Slender hands slowly slipped the soft blanket off of you and oh —

It all clicked suddenly.

The lavender coloured lace suited your complexion so perfectly, the expensive material hugging your features like it was made for you. Sigma gulped, eyes fixating on the way your tits were practically spilling out of the flimsy fabric — your stiff nipples very much visible to his hungry gaze.

It wasn't long before he had his face buried between your plush thighs — Sigma was so desperate, not even bothering to take the lingerie off your body. Besides, why would he when you just looked way too good in it?

He was practically eating you out through the thin lace — nose bumping against your clothed clit as his tongue tried to push deeper into your cunt. You had him in a chokehold — but he couldn't care less.

Sigma's slim hips were rutting into the expensive sheets — precum leaking from his sensitive tip as he tried his best not to cum untouched just from tasting your sweet pussy, but fuck, you were making it so hard for him.

He felt his cock throb in his pants when you started letting out soft moans and sighs in your sleep — or were you even asleep anymore? He didn't know and neither did he care — mind too focused on making you cum on his pretty face.

"ohh s-shit — best surprise - sluurrp - e-ever—" he whined into your cunt, spitting directly into your sticky hole before slurping it all back up.

Safe to say, he definitely enjoyed your little surprise.

© 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ do not copy/translate/repost and/or recommend any of my works on different platfroms under any circumstances. reblogs greatly appreciated !

[revelboo]

Assorted headcanons- scenarios 🌶️ 18+

Starscream x Reader, Megatron x Reader, Jazz x Reader, Wheeljack x Reader, Bluestreak x Reader, Prowl x Reader, Thundercracker x Reader, others. G1/IDW, TFP, TF One. Mass-displaced Cybertronians x reader scene pack- no plot here

Sorry, not sorry at all.

IDW/G1 Starscream

• Kneeling, body bowed over yours, he chuckles and runs his servos over your rib cage. “Something wrong?” He almost purrs the words, lips twisting knowingly. With your hips up, thighs spread over his you can’t get any leverage. Can’t move and you desperately need to, feeling the thick length of his spike pulsing where it’s buried inside you. You tuck your chin to glare up at him, but his optics are focused on where you’re joined, almost seeming fascinated with watching himself slowly rock against you, his spike slick as it disappears inside you before he glances at you, sly expression growing wicked. “Say it.”

• “Please. Please move,” you growl at him voice straining, trying to wiggle and he leans back, servos tightening on your soft hips to pin you still with him buried deep right where he belongs. Teasing his own control and yours. Wings flicking, he studies your flushed face as your thighs clench around him, struggling in frustration. Needing him. Only him, because you’re his. “Star.” Your voice hitches, begging for him and his restraint shatters. Shifting to stretch out over you, he begins to move. You cling to him as he drives into your wet heat, adoring those softy needy sounds you make and the way you feel like you’re made just to take his spike.

TFP Megatron

• Coiling the length of your leash around his fist, he buries his face against the softness of your throat as he covers your much smaller frame. He lets his claws play over your core, testing how wet you are for him. Feeling you squirm as he runs his chain wrapped servos along your belly and up to caress the delicate line of your jaw with a claw tip. Those sharp denta tease the skin of your shoulder, biting just hard enough to send little sparks of pain through you to mix with the need coiling you tight. Leaving marks so there’s no doubt who you belong to.

• Trembling in need as he palms your throat with a hand, draping himself against your back on his knees and a fist planted against the berth. You can feel his spike against your inner thigh branding you with his body heat, leaving a wet trail as his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Such a good little pet,” he growls, before his mouth slides down along your throat to your shoulder. You don’t even have time to form a retort or get offended about the pet comment, before he’s spearing you on his spike and you brace as that first thrust almost sends your sprawling face down. Then he’s firmly pressing against your nape until you surrender with a whimper, chest down, hips up as he ruts against you with a possessive snarl, pace relentless.

TFP Soundwave

• That soundless hum crackles over you, through you in an electric rush that lifts the fine hair at your nape as he settles against you and that tingling awareness washes over you. Arching against his grip as he uses those tendrils like built in shibari to restrain you. Pin you immobile where he wants you. Positioned how he wants.

• Everywhere his flesh meets yours, more of you sinks into him, giving everything you are to him as he presses his forehead to yours, servos sliding down your sides. There’ll be no keeping your thoughts out, no mental walls between you as he spreads you to him, holding you immobile and gripping himself, slides the head of his spike against your slick heat. Your need lashes at him, demanding wordlessly and he can’t deny you. Uses his tendrils to pull you down onto his spike and shuddering as your heat, your thoughts, all of you, envelopes him. Those little noises you make as he claims you almost musical.

G1/IDW Prowl

• “Screw you,” you curl your lip at him. “You can’t just crook a finger and I’ll come running.” The first time had been an accident. How were you supposed to know that if you kept pushing his buttons he’d react that way. Your back thumps against the wall, his fist smacking against the wall as he glares down at you, all frustration and heat and hunger. It’s a feeling you understand all too well as his mouth crashes against yours with bruising force. It’s not a kiss, so much as a domination. And then he’s gripping you, lifting you to pin against the wall with casual strength, settling himself between your thighs so you can’t shut him out. You don’t like him, you’re pretty sure he hates you, but the both of you are equally screwed by how much you enjoy angry sex.

• You bite his lip hard, hands shoving at him like you can actually force him to budge and he nips back, hearing your sharp intake of breath, those angry eyes flashing that he drew blood. He’s almost certain you’d do the same if you could, can feel your fingernails digging into the seams in his armor, biting into the mesh there. Trying to hurt him, mark him as yours. You can hate him all you like, glare and snap at him, but you want him. Want this. A fact that winds him tight as he pulls back enough that he can line your bodies up, find that wet heat and thrust into you. You cling to him, legs hooking around him as he bucks into you and your lips and mouth press whimpering kisses against his throat. Needing him. Hating him. Begging and cursing.

G1/IDW Bluestreak

• His servos tunnel into the softness of your hair, lips running over your jaw up to the corner of your mouth. Internal systems hitching as you shift on top of him where he’s sprawled and the servos of his other hand tighten and almost immediately relax against your hip. Fighting himself and the urge to just move you where he needs you so he can drive up into that tight, wet heat. Your blunt little teeth nip at his lip, soft fingers playing with the mesh of his protoarmor under his jaw. And you shift against him, sitting up on his chassis, eyes dark with need, hair messy from his servos.

• Bluestreak’s head is thrown back, denta bared like he’s in pain as he curls his warm hands around your waist. Every rough vent blowing across your sweat slicked skin as you brace your palms on his chassis and rock back. Sliding yourself against his spike until he shudders under you, servos tightening on you so much you know there’ll be bruises later. “Please,” he growls, optics gorgeous as he looks up at you, that hungry stare almost worshipful. Making you feel powerful as you reach back to find him, grip his pulsing spike and lower yourself on him. His venting hitches under you, hips lifting as he groans in Cybertronian, seeming to forget you can’t understand him now as his hands slide down your waist to your hips and he pulls you the rest of the way down to take all of him. Now you’re throwing your head back as he uses his grip to grind himself against you, still murmuring softly in his language. As soon as his grip eases, you brace your palms and ride him, hips rolling.

G1/IDW Thundercracker

• “Please,” that soft, almost whining whimper strokes over him as he lazily rolls his hips. “Thundercracker, I can’t.” Pinning you on your belly, legs spread so you can’t try and shut him out, his arm hooked under you just enough to keep your hips tilted where he needs them as he keeps rocking himself into you, he smiles indulgently. Feeling your slick heat quivering around his spike as he nudges you toward that peak again just so he can fill you again, because you definitely can for him. His wings shiver in lazy little tremors as he feels you clench around his spike.

• “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, lips tenderly brushing the back of your shoulder as he thrusts a bit harder, his servos flexing under you, brushing where you’re joined so you gasp and moan. He’s trying to kill you with pleasure, coaxing and demanding until your tired body is coiling again. Until you need it again as he adjusts his angle, spike stroking inside you and you’re crying out again, shattering. And he groans as you fist his spike, taking him along with you.

G1/IDW Jazz

• “Frag, doll,” he groans, the ragged sound of his voice winding you up as your arch under him. Servos span your sides and glide up, pulling your arms up and pinning your wrists as he rolls his hips, that big spike driving deep inside you. He’s not letting your hands loose since the feel of your hands on his spike had nearly done him in if his ragged venting is any indication. Makes you wonder what he’d do if it was your mouth on him and what kind of noises he’d make. You hook a leg over his hip, bucking your hips to chase after your own pleasure, because it’s so close. As he snarls at you in Cybertronian, you’re almost certain he’s swearing at you.

• Primus, how can you be so tight? Your heel digs into him as you grind yourself against him and he almost bites his glossa. You apparently have no patience, don’t want gentle or slow. And honestly? That’s fine by him. Growling soft, little nothings in your ear, he stops holding back. There it is, your head thrown back as he pounds into you, tenuous control fraying. Crying out his name as he takes you.

TF One Megatron

• He likes this view of you, your body spread open under him, as he props himself up on an arm. The ragged sounds of pleasure you make just for him and the wet heat of you around his spike. Fingers of his other hand sliding over the fragile line of your throat, he bucks into you, chasing down his release. You writhe under him, little pleas falling from your lips. Begging him so sweetly as he thrusts harder.

• He shifts over you, hips pinning yours to the berth as his thrusts grow more urgent and you can only hook your legs around him as he ruts into you, losing all control and it’s a powerful feeling to know you do this to him. He’s always reminding you that you’re his, but that just means he belongs to you, too. Especially as his rhythm quickens and he slides a hand under the back of your head and presses his face against your throat as you cry out, warm tremors crashing through you as his denta grip your shoulder with a snarl. Hard enough to leave a mark on that soft skin.

G1/IDW Ratchet

• Those little teeth try to bite the palm he has covering your mouth as he ruts into you from behind. The container he’s pinned you on your belly on with your hips and legs hanging is just tall enough you can’t reach the ground. Can’t do anything but squirm as he claims what’s his. Taking you like this in the medbay where anyone might walk in hadn’t been the plan, but you’d started it.

• Feeling every, deep drive of his hips, you cling to his forearm. All because you’d felt bad for Fowler getting hell from his supervisor. All you’d done was touch the guy’s arm in platonic sympathy. Next thing you know, Ratchet is picking you up in his servos, locking you both in the medbay. And taking out some pent up frustration on you, not that your complaining as you writhe under him. He stops trying to muffle your cries, gripping your hips in both hands so he can drag you back to meet his urgent thrusts and the wet sound of your bodies meeting, the feel of him inside you mixes with his rough, growling venting to send you over that edge.

G1/IDW Wheeljack

• Little hands on his vocal indicators. A soft mouth against his throat and the feel of you wrapped around his spike, so tight and wet. His hands tremble as they ghost over your ribs, scared if he holds you, his grip might bruise that soft flesh. Scared he might do something that makes you stop. So he just sits still, growling softly, systems revving as you roll your hips against his. Perched in his lap as you torment him with that slick heat and your slow, cautious rhythm. The feel of you anchoring him.

• He’s trembling under you as you ride his spike. His head falling back, vocal indicators flickering mauve. Over and over you feel his servos barely there against your cheek, your side, or your hip. Needing more contact and being denied because he seems to think he’ll break you. Pressing soft kisses against his throat, you roll your hips almost dancing in his lap. Moaning against his jaw and tracing the mesh of his neck with the tip of your tongue. And then finally whatever was holding him back snaps. Those big hands find your hips and he’s in control, thrusting up inside you as he pulls you down to meet him.