#yuri everywhere you look

[scourge-by-name]

Tried the Harvestella demo the other day and at first I was like "ehhh idk, seems alright I guess" and then Aria got introduced and I was like. oh. I will protect her with my life

oh and the doctor ?

well, not my type but she seems... fond.. of the mc :)

[zxal]

they need to add Jin to duel links for MEEEEEEEEEEEE

[nichuuu]

Scatterbrain

Word count: 18k+

They say it takes a village to raise a child. 

To raise a girl as fine as Jang Wonyoung, you’d probably need 3 whole villages.

Two of those three villages would be used to train the way she walks because it’s perfect: classy, poised, elegant. The other one would have to work on her outfits because god would she need those. Hopefully the village doesn’t operate a Shein style manufacturing line. She’d hate that.

Her face is the definition of “striking the gene pool lottery”, and so is the rest of her body. Lanky arms and legs; toned, slim tummy; big, bright eyes that glimmer under the flashing lights. Personally, you like her “you’re on camera” smile the most. She knows this, and she always makes it a point to shoot it your way as she struts towards you. She stops half way to get a flute of Champagne, make that two actually, then grabs another. Those long legs can cover one hell of a distance, and they bring her right to you in a matter of seconds.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” she hands you the Champagne flute in her left hand, and the rings on it shine in the light, “cause it’s starting to feel like you’re just stalking me now.”

Of course, it’s the snarky remarks that open the conversation. Jang Wonyoung, airheaded as ever m’lady, and you sip on the Bubbly that she’s very nicely delivered to you. Wonyoung is, of course, a little bit of an airhead in your books (only because she believes that you’re always there for her, nothing else), and it’s never not hilarious to watch her draw her lips into a thin line. It’s not the first time she’s hearing this from you; it certainly won’t be the last. You can’t control where you’re posted to, but you know for a fact that you’ll see her again a couple months down the road.

Cause your meetings with Jang Wonyoung are through pure serendipity really, and you certainly will start calling it that after you read that one story. You know: the one where this guy cheats on his idol girlfriend, who he has a tense relationship with, with another idol that he happens to meet just about everywhere. There’s 0 communication between the two of you when these types of events come around, and neither of you know if either of you will be there or not. Actually, it’s just you really; neither of you know if you will be there. 

“Here for Kwon Eunbi again? Or are you finding someone else?” This question of her’s is customary at this point. Never once has it been perfunctory.

“Well, I was actually here to try and catch an interview with Jo Yuri, but I guess you’ll do,” you reply. Wonyoung scoffs—so I’m second place then?—and you have to assuage her oh-so-damaged ego, “you’re making this inference on your own Princess. I never said anything remotely close to that.”

And it’s that smile on her face that makes you want to kiss her really. It’s gorgeous, it’s cute, it’s beautiful. She’s given you that damned smile so many times that you could probably draw it from memory, though you’d definitely butcher it. The dress is certainly doing it justice, and you watch it brush against the skin of her legs as she shifts her weight to the other foot. I’ve never been that good at inferences. You’re far better than me, Prince, and she’s playing with her hair: twirling and untwirling it around her finger. That ribbon atop her head… Her stylist certainly knows their stuff.

“Think I’ll win an award this year?” Her question draws you away from your thorough examination of her. You take a moment to think, and you have to say, it depends, but I think you could definitely get something in some category. She gives you this inscrutable look, and she’s chuckling to herself as she looks at the crowd and sips on her champagne. You can guess what she’s about to say next: quite the crowd today, huh? And you’d reply, “Don’t think that they’re all here for you”, and that would prompt her to shoot back with, “Then who are they here for? You?”. 

But of course, when do things ever go according to plan?

“Have you thought about my offer?” she asks, and you’re caught off guard. 

Cause here’s the history between you two: Middle school best friends, always kind of inseparable. She was the beauty queen, it girl, and she still is; you were the writer, head of the school magazine, and you’re pretty much writing for the rest of your life. Wherever you went with her, rumours followed—Are they dating? I think they’re just friends. Maybe she’s trying to be the front of the magazine?—but you never thought much of it. It was just a simple friendship to you, nothing more. 

Then the kiss she gave you in high school changed it all.

It was a party, hosted by one of your mutual friends. She kissed you, and no, it wasn’t a Spin The Bottle forfeit, nor was it a dare of any sort; it was a sincere, tender kiss in the garden—unprompted, and away from any prying eyes and soft like silk chiffon. You have to admit, the sensation had your brain mired for a minute or so. But when you came back to your senses, you kissed her right back, and things got complicated after that. 

No one knew of it; it was your little secret. Wonyoung became closer than ever, and next thing you know, she declares the two of you “exclusive” but not dating. It’s because her agency has that funky dating ban thing, and Wonyoung was desperate to find a loophole, albeit a little complex. Of course, you’re willing to stay “exclusive” with Wonyoung in secret, but you started to worry that it can’t stay this way for long after the two of you get out of high school. 

But as fate would have it, your career paths meet at the crossroads, and now you see her every other month or so. You still text her when you can, and the “exclusive” relationship has sustained. Now that she’s an adult and she’s bringing in mad bucks for the agency, she’s informed you of some changes in her contact. From there, the offer was birthed, and you have left it unchecked for the past four months or so, “grey ticked” as she liked to call it.

“You haven’t texted in a while, thought you died,” she continues, leaning on her elbows against the table. “Thank god you’re alive, huh?”

You hoped that she’d just forget about it, but she’s more of a mnemonist than you give her credit for. An award show is the last place you expected to be caught off guard by Jang Wonyoung, but she’s definitely a master of surprise. I uh… I haven’t really thought about it, is a lie you tell her and yourself. She smiles enigmatically, downs the rest of her Champagne. 

“Let’s talk about it tonight,” she touches your chest, and it’s soft like silk chiffon, “you know where to find me, Prince.”

She struts off to join the rest of her members, stops halfway to return her Champagne flute, then looks back at you over her shoulder to give you a small wave. You sip on your Champagne as the silk brushes against her skin. 

It’s a heavy breath that leaves your mouth, and it’s the rest of the Champagne that goes in.

*

302.

Gold lettering, black plaque. It’s grand, pretty elegant. Suits her well. 

Then the door opens. 

In her bathrobe, Jang Wonyoung shoots her “you’re on camera” smile. You’re earlier than expected—she lets you in—Matter of fact, I thought you might not show at all.

And it’s a must to quip back, “thought you’d be asleep by now you big baby.”

When the door closes, it’s straight to work, and here’s how that normally goes: kissing, undressing, foreplay, then finally—fucking. Not that it has to follow that order or anything, but it’s the unspoken schedule that Wonyoung’s written up. God forbid anyone goes against what the princess is comfortable with, not that you’d ever try to either way. Your voice is barely a mumble past her lips—aren’t we supposed to talk about something?—and Wonyoung’s quick to dismiss any queries, “later. There’s always time for it later”. 

So it’s the kiss that’s pulling you back into her. Her front teeth capture your bottom lip, pull, drags it back a little like she’s trying to unwrap you like a present. You hold her waist, and with gentle hands, you push her back against the wall. It’s not that you’re trying to get control or anything; you’re just attempting to give her something to work with, a place to rest as she starts to work on the buttons of your shirt. 

“Are you already naked underneath that?” you whisper, though it’s more of a drawl than a whisper. In response, she momentarily stops with your buttons to slide a section of her bathrobe away, giving you a good look at a column of her naked, milky skin. 

In short: Yes, she is very much naked under that robe.

“Don’t get distracted, my prince. Eyes up here.”

“You’re the one that made me look, princess.”

She’s evidently struggling with the last button of your shirt, and you have to let go of her for a moment to help her get it done. Then it’s off with the shirt, and she flings it against the door for convenience sake. Your belt’s next, and that’s taken care of before you can even say, let me undress you Princess. It does make her hesitate at the clasp of your trousers for a bit. Just for a bit.

“I’d like,” her fingers are moving again, and they’re awfully quick at unfastening your pants, “for you to unwrap me on the bed instead.”

How raunchy of her. Makes you want to try her on.

Your pants fall. Your hand slithers into the bathrobe. Her jaw drops. Wonyoung my darling, and your fingers have captured one of those perky breasts, the right one to be exact. How do you ever—it’s light pressure to the nipple for you; it’s mind melting for her—get away with being such a big slut? Look at you, I’m barely even squeezing here. You’d like to save that face she makes in a supercut of her other memorable faces: eyes wide, mouth agape and her chin tucked into her neck. Frame it up, take a step back, admire it. It’s the face of someone who’s pent up, the expression of a needy girl who’s been aching to get some dick. Maybe if you guys had met a little sooner, she wouldn’t be this sensitive. But now? A twist of your forefinger and thumb is all it takes to draw a cry out of her, a little more pressure is enough to rain hellfire upon her. What a crazy-hot mess she is; only god knows how to clean her up and get her sorted out.

Open mouth straight to your ear, Wonyoung lets out a breathy gasp. In your fingers, the stiff peak rolls between the pads—back, forth, back, forth: motions that make her weak in her knees. It’s with great effort that she pulls your face back to hers, captures you in her quivering lips. Elegance has long been thrown out the window by now, and it’s not going to be returning for quite some time, as if you ever need it at a time like this. She’s barely holding herself up at this point. Where did the prim proper Jang Wonyoung go? 

The answer’s in her kiss—gone, dusted, she was here just a minute ago though. She’s grasping at whatever inch of your skin she can find, and her nails are definitely gonna be leaving marks on the sides of your neck. You let out a small, wry laugh as you silently observe her behaviour, watching her implore without speaking, badger without requesting. It’s an art form really, the form of expression for the horny and desperate and bratty. When her hands grip your face and her nails sink into your cheek, you pinch a little harder and relish the pleasant vibrations that are sent into your mouth as she gasps. Her palms press into your jaw, and they’d probably crush it if you press any harder. Her feet patter against the wood as she starts to direct you to the bed. You kick off your shoes together with your pants. 

It’s definitely a sight to take in: Jang Wonyoung in a massive king size bed, a thin bathrobe being the only thing between you and that wonderful body being the bathrobe. Maybe if she wasn’t in this state she’s in, she’d gesture to you with a come hither motion, and invite you to remove the fabric from her body. Instead, she opts for a spine tingling mewl, and that’s your invitation to her body. It’s hardly an insinuation; the fact that she wants to be unwrapped like a present is undeniable, she used the word unwrap herself. The bunny knot holding the two pieces of fabric is symmetrical—has Wonyoung’s fingerprints all over it. If it weren’t for the fact that she’s watching you with a half-open mouth, maybe you’d compliment her on her efforts a little, maybe even call her “princess” a couple more times before you properly ruin her.

(But she’s already ruined, ruined by a mere bit of pressure to the nipple. What else can make her tick now?)

Her body is at your mercy and it, quite literally, jerks as you start to pull at the knot, undoing it centimetre by centimetre, millimetre by millimetre, inch by inch. You want to see how long she can watch for, how long she can witness herself be undressed in a painfully slow fashion. Needy as she is, she’s patient as she watches one end of the rope grow longer. 

Longer. 

“Do you want me to speed this up, baby?” The smirk on your face would earn you a pout from her if her nerves weren’t in a bundle at the given moment.

“W-Whatever you want,” she answers, and her voice is brimming with breathy arousal. How are you getting away with all this? She’d grab your wrist and pull by now if she wasn’t so damn needy right now.

You give a dry laugh. “Then I’ll keep at this then.”

Longer.

“Fuck. Just pull it all the way already.” She looks you right in the eye as she begs you to hurry, and now you can see the need brimming in those large, round eyes, the ones that stare back at you with soft intensity, if that’s even possible. She’s good at mixing emotions into her stare.

“I thought you said—”

“Just fucking do it!”

Slack.

And the knot comes undone, and together with it, the robe falls off to the sides of her body—it’s beautiful. Never have you taken so much pleasure in undressing her, but you sure-as-hell have taken this much time to admire that wonderful, slender frame. From your standing view over her, you get down to her level to get a better look at her. It’s all part of the game of course: the way you look her in the eye, the way you touch her jaw ever so slightly to turn it towards you. The kiss is sickly sweet, and she’s starting to taste more and more like that cherry lipstick you gave her when you saw her some time ago at another event. Into your mouth, she lets out a sonorous moan. Your fingertips brush along her skin, slither down from her collarbone to her cleavage—down to that flushed pink region between her equally flushed thighs. Almost instantly, the tip of your digits are coated in slick fluids, and you raise an eyebrow at the girl on the bed.

“I literally touched you.” It’s amusement permeating your voice more than anything. In the sheets, she squirms in the slightest, eyes locked on your fingers that rest against that dripping heat and breath caught in her throat. You know that if you were to shift your finger in the slightest, you’d trigger a chain reaction that you have no power over. Her legs would clamp, her abdomen would tense, her eyes would roll. In the midst of it all, she’d maybe scream, or maybe she’d moan; either way goes. As far as you’re concerned, she’s needy as fuck at the moment, and she’s not going to let anything stop her from cumming.

“Yea, well… I can be sensitive.” Her defence is hardly a solid one, more of a perfunctory reply. Her head’s far from able to formulate a quip to throw back at you; that ability went out the window together with classy Wonyoung. “Put them in.”

You go against her request, and your fingers start to skirt the edges of that swollen, pink slit of hers. A crime—you’re going against the princess’ wishes, but realistically speaking: she can hardly be called a princess at the moment, so why comply? 

A portion of the bathrobe is still clinging on to her breast. You use your other hand to push it away, and the split second of contact makes her flinch. “Jesus. You’re so fucking turned-on right now,” you can’t help but muse, all while your fingers retrace te outline of her swollen lips. She’s shivering, she isn’t breathing quite right. “Do you want to moan, baby? Do you want to moan like a good little slut for me?”

And she fixes you with a glare. “F-Fuck you… Put them in.”

No “please” this time. Shame. If she were more polite, you would’ve obliged; now you’ll just have some more fun with her. 

Your thumb finds the swollen nub, and a little brush is all you need to get her straining like a psycho in a straitjacket. What will I ever do with you Wonyoung?—and she’s getting wetter by the second—You look so pretty when you’re so needy, you know that?—why would you ever, for a second, think that she’d be as refined as the last time? She doesn’t play with herself when she needs to get off; she waits till she sees you again to get off on your cock, your fingers, your mouth. Sexting was off the table, she wants you to be physically there, driving her insane as she lets herself come undone. 

“You know,” and you’re almost laughing as you watch her face twist even further, “that I could do this forever right? I could just lie here, tease you for as long as I want… Or maybe that’s what you want?

She’s messy, so fucking messy. Juices are starting to soak the bed—you can feel it as your fingertips round the bottom of her slit. Housekeeping would certainly question the spot, and the two of you wouldn’t be there to reply anyway. Her cheeks are flushed, the veins of her throat are popping. It takes a considerable amount of effort to stay this composed, but you know that she’s breaking more and more. With each round your fingers make, cracks start to form along that perfectly sculpted face. The fine lines on her forehead begin to show as her brows start to furrow. Strained sounds are coming from her throat as the urge to moan is slowly winning the battle against her will. She wants control, but she can’t have it when she’s a wet, hot mess next to you. She’s being bratty for the sake of it. Your fingers are your leverage against her. It’s killing her. It’s delighting you.

And just like fine China thrown against concrete, her will shatters. 

“Please! Put them in!”

And your fingers stop just at the top of her pussy. It feels like a long minute, but she isn't about to take another second of this. Her thighs clamp against your arm. Her fingers wrap around your wrist in desperation. She begs again. And again. And again. And again, again, again. The bed starts to creak as you start to move your fingers down her lips, down to the very end of her cunt.

God is she dripping.

“Will you moan for me?” you drawl huskily. A finger, two, three rest themselves against her heat. 

“Yes.” There’s barely any of her original self left in there. “Please just—”

The fingers breach her opening. She screams, a high-pitched, keening cry. The noise makes your cock strain in your boxers, and you have to grit your teeth as her inner walls wrap tightly around your intruding digits. A moment of stillness comes, a moment where she’s just breathing raggedly, struggling to process this pleasure that’s racking her body faster than she can comprehend. She’s a ticking time bomb of nerves; the slightest movement in this state could send her into perdition, and she’ll barrel past that point of no return faster than both of you can imagine. God, she’s sensitive. God, she’s a mess. 

The chuckle that departs from your mouth is one of perverse pleasure. “Baby,” you whisper, right into her ear as she struggles to catch her breath. She squeezes her eyes shut, and you watch with a grin as her chest rises and falls. The grip on your wrist is a vice, knuckle-white and unrelenting. She’s begging you, with her eyes, to start moving, and you have to tell her, “I can’t start till you let go of me, baby.”

And it’s with reluctance that she slips her hand off your wrist, but that hand won’t stay empty for long. You guide it to her own breast, and with a soft whisper, you tell her to squeeze. She’s servile. She complies without protest. Her eyes slowly open themselves, and you relish the way they’re lust-glazed appearance looks under warm light while her breaths level themselves out. For a moment, there’s calm. For a moment, it’s tender.

Then your fingers start to move. All hell breaks loose.

Everything she did to calm herself quickly becomes futile; it becomes undone as her back arches in a way that catches your breath in your throat. Your fingers graze her walls, pressed into each other as they slowly draw in and out of her. And mind you: you’re going slow, slow enough to make her feel every bit of your fingers brush against her insides. But it’s enough to make her curse, enough to get her mewling like a damn kitten while her hips start to rock, rubbing her clit against the base of your palm. There’s no way to describe how needy she looks; her want is beyond words, and you’ve barely even started. Three fingers is the most you’ve ever put inside her. Clearly, it’s working wonders for her.

And now you yourself have to admit: you’ve wanted her for some time now. Since the last time you saw her, you’ve fantasised about that slim tummy twitching, about holding that snatched waist once more, about those long legs wrapped around your neck while your tongue and fingers turn her into a pliant plaything. For weeks, you’ve wanted nothing more than pulling Jang Wonyoung apart, reduce her into a withering mess wherever you guys are and get her screaming till she’s sore. You can’t even begin to describe what you’ve done with her in your dreams, nor can you ever convey how it feels to desire her as much as you have. So, you put all of it into action, sordid sentiments channelled into your fingers that are making those cute features twist and contort in perverse pleasure. She’s rambunctious, and her juices are quite literally soaking your hand, spilling the strongest sillage of lust all over the bed. 

“Why do you always have to be so fucking messy?” You’re really just trying to see how much you can get away with at this point, though the answer seems to be: just about everything. Your fingers start moving faster. You love the way her cheeks are starting to flush even more. “Are you always this wet? Or is it just for me?”

The squelching is lewder than you can ever imagine. The sound of her slick, wet heat being breached by your fingers is enthralling. Add the sounds she’s making into that and you have the ultimate erotica audio that can bless mankind. She’s panting, she’s moaning, she’s whining—she’s doing it all really, and you’re just using your fingers. God knows how she’ll react once you’re inside of her, rock hard meat stretching her out instead of a few fingers fiddling around in warm walls. 

But hey, the sounds she’s making are ever so erotic, and she’s definitely making your blood flow to all the right places. She feels out of place; you can’t put your finger on what’s wrong in this whole thing. It’s probably a small detail, something you’d overlook over the sight of her chest heaving as air shoots out and gets sucked back into her mouth, her whole body straining and convulsing against the bed while you get a thumb on her clit and rub at a languid tempo. Probably something miniscule, not worth mentioning because all your attention is focused on the look on her face (you want to mess up the makeup so badly it’s almost frustrating). And no, you’re not trying to make her cum in five seconds; she’s just really riled up—bundle of nerves and trigger happy. Probably hasn’t been treated this way in a while, probably hasn’t had three fingers twisting around, sliding in and out of that tight wet hole slow enough to make her feel every bit of skin against her walls; fast enough to make her combust if you were to speed up, in, like, forever. 

“I–I…” She’s quite literally mewling, and the sharpness in her voice is so cutting that it makes an incision in a bag inside you that’s keeping all the perverse thoughts at bay. The thoughts are leaking out now, and it’s almost impossible to stuff them back in. You want her against the glass: tits against the window and ass in your hands while you pump and pump and pump into that slick tight hole; you want nothing more but to pick her up and have her lock her legs around you, tight frame flushed against you while you nail her against one of these walls that surround you; you want to unhinge that jaw and watch that pretty mouth—now parted to let the stream of moans flow—take your cock in and out between those kiss-swollen lips and watch the drool leak out the corners of her mouth. Shit. It’s killing you. Jang Wonyoung, dolled up. She’s killing you. 

(No way in hell are thighs meant to be this hot, and lips are not  supposed to look this delicious. Yet Jang Wonyoung somehow goes against every fucking norm, fights it naturally and effortlessly and wins like a seasoned warrior. So just for her case: her thighs can be this hot and flushed, and her lips can look this fucking appetising. You kiss her; it’s sloppy, it’s lewd, it’s hot and everything in between. Mark her neck, mark that row of skin above her right collarbone, mark her everywhere. Cusses are flying—god forbid her agency finds out about the things hse says while she’s getting fingered. She's making a mess out of herself. She’s making a mess out of you.

Fingers, just fingers and she’s already looking like this: hair fanned out, frazzled, looking like she just went through a car wash and yet somehow has her make-up intact. Fuck. You want to watch the mascara run, watch it streak while she tears up as she’s choking down cum and she’s struggling to take in air. Pretty little princess, messy and glacially being turned into some improper slut. It’s hard to not smirk while you ruin her with the same fingers you use to type articles about her—fingers that sing praises and can also make her moan enough to make her throat hoarse.)

The rhythm of your hand makes her body roll. Her toes–painted over, fresh manicure—curl into the sheets. Doe-like eyes stare back at you, plump red lips part to gasp your name, throat muscles strain trying to  curse and moan at the same time. The fingers are gliding in and out and in and out and she’s begging you to not stop (like hell you ever would) in those choke up little sobs while she’s—

Oh fuck baby I can’t I can’t I can’t — Anything. I’ll do anything. Please just let me cum. I’m so fucking close baby. Please just let me fucking cum. I’ll be a good girl. I-I promise I’ll be a good fucking girl for you just… Fuck!

—blue screening on your fingers: lost in the sauce or whatever. Pliant plaything, docile doll. You’re certain she hasn’t gotten off in at least a month if the way she’s taking it is any sort of yardstick. She’s far beyond drenched, far beyond salvation and way off the deep end of the “needy” pool—drowning herself in her own sea of sighs and gasps and moans and loose phonics that slip out of her mouth. Ostinato of your fingers squelching in her cunt; half time rhythm of the creaky bed; melody of the chorus of Jang Wonyoung’s voice—music to your ears.

And there’s lots to unpack from the moment you locate that soft spot at the top of her pussy. There’s a lot of cussing, a lot of jolting, a fair amount of whining and your name is thrown somewhere in that mix. You find her lips, she kisses back, one of her hands grabs your arm, nails dig in and stay there. Flurry of actions, filthy language—fucking hell, someone stop her.

Bottom line: lots of action. You find it congenial to start from the part where it quite literally ends her world. Once your digits curled up into that sensitive patch of flesh, it was all over for her.

You can pinpoint the exact moment where the orgasm rips through her body, the exact moment where her muscles seized so perfectly that her back arches. The pulse around your fingers is strong, walls tight around your digits and your thumb gently rubbing on her clit while the pleasure rolls through her body, molten iron libido converting the feeling between her thighs to electricity that makes her short circuit. The moan is breathy if anyone’s asking, and the look on her face—twisted, perverse satisfaction: superimposing need and want—has a whole foot over the line of pornographic. Wires are fraying in her head, her vocal cords are strained, she’s ruining the sheets with her juices; you’re complicit in every damn part of this, and guilt is the last thing on your mind.

Then her back falls back flat against the mattress, and the sheets ripple as her body makes a dense thump against the bed, punctuating the sigh she releases into the air. Nerves are unbundling themselves. She’s sweaty and panting. Your fingers are beyond soaked.

“Messy,” you muse, slowly drawing your juice slicked fingers out of her cunt. You bring them to her mouth. She languidly tastes herself, sweat-darkened sheets hugging the muscles of her shoulders and lining her ribs. She looks so tiny in the bed if you looked over the fact that her legs were dangling over the edge of the mattress, and that’s easy to do once you lean in for a kiss.

(It’s not hard to slip your tongue into her mouth, and there’s barely any fight left in her as you roll her nipple between your index finger and thumb. The sweat-matted hair sticking to her forehead adds a nice touch to her face.)

“Such a good girl.” Your tone is warm as you praise her, and a hand moves to cup her cheek in an act of tenderness. Her eyelids flutter shut. She puts the weight of her face into your palm. 

“Do I get my reward now?” she whispers, and it’s more of a plea than a question really. You take a moment, not to think, but to drag out the suspense for a little more before you give her an answer. You take guilty pleasure in knowing that you could keep her on tenterhooks for the whole night—the only thing stopping you is the throbbing of your cock in your boxers and the look of sheer need on her face. If you could: you’d drag this out a little longer, maybe tease her a little and call her more names. You still could do that, but you’d much rather fuck her instead. 

“Where do you want it?” your thumbs hook into the waistband of your boxers and hook them down. Your cock springs free from its cottons confines, and Wonyoung’s eyes instantly dart to it. She may be a little obsessed with your cock, but only a little when she’s depraved (which is right now). Before you can even react, she has your shaft in her hand, lanky fingers wrapped around it and pumping it with considerate strokes. 

“I want a big load in my ass.” she requests, far from innocent and banking more towards improper, which seems to be a pretty big theme of hers tonight. “I’ve been wanting to feel daddy’s  hot load leaking out of my ass for a long time…” The strokes delivered to your length grow firmer and firmer by the second. “Please?”

The spikes of pleasure her small hand delivers to your system is really making it hard to say no at the given moment. Of course, she’s well aware of it, and she’s definitely feeling so damn smug right now. And so with a very clouded mind, you nod. She smiles smugly, unaware that you’re about to fuck that smug little smirk rig of her pretty face. Conveniently, she’s already on her back—it’ll make the process so much easier. 

“I take it that the lube is in your bag?” You raise. She grins and nods. 

Sure enough, you find it in the exact same place as it usually is: side pocket, right next to her lipstick. You toss it towards her and move around her, slip her ankles over her shoulders. She lies still, unmoving and obedient as her left calf goes past her head, then her right. You lean forward, and she gasps as she's almost bent her completely in half. She’s flexible; this position won’t bring any harm to her, but it is congenial to ruin her asshole and leave her sore for the next day or so, which is exactly what she wants, but probably not how she imagined herself getting it. She cracks open the lube, and with precision, squirts a generous amount of it on the tight ring of her ass, making eye contact with you all the while as the clear liquid gathers at the puckered ring of muscle. The tube is discarded to a side when she’s done, and she uses her hands to spread her asscheeks for you, inviting you to take your liberties with her hole.

“Come on Daddy,” she urges you. “Come fuck this ass,” she continues, her hands spreading her ass cheeks even wider as you start to line yourself up with the tight ring. “Wreck this fucking hole Daddy, I can fucking take it.”

To hear her say those words was almost enough to have you cum right there and then. You press the tip of your cock at the open, gaping hole of her ass, swirling it around the entrance, collecting more of the copious amounts of lube around it. She was generous with the amount of lube she dispensed; you're about to be generous with the strokes you're gonna make inside that ass.

(She yelps when you slide inside her ass. God does it feel so fucking divine.)

She is so tight and wet and hot that you think you could’ve cum with your first thrust inside her. Her pussy was tight and hot, but her ass was even tighter and even hotter. Even though your cock was slick with lube, it did close to nothing to keep the sheer tightness of her asshole from clenching around you like it was a really small glove. It wasn’t the first time you’ve been inside her ass, but it sure as hell felt like a novelty every single time you entered that tight ring of muscle. Fuck. The heat, the tightness—sublime. You think you could cum in a matter of seconds if you didn’t have self control.

“Go!’ she hisses, through the pain and discomfort. “Fuck me. Fuck my ass!”

You would have been happy to stay there, buried balls deep in Wonyoung’s ass, but her own words goad you into moving���slowly at first, but with a steadily increasing pace, you begin to fuck Wonyoung’s ass with long, slow strokes. She hisses—part glee, part discomfort—as your shaft starts to pump itself in and out of her ass. You draw yourself out till only the base of you tip remains inside of her, and then you thrust back in, hard, hard enough to make her yelp out in pained pleasure while she grits her teeth and watches your rock hard shaft fill her ass. It's a perverse show for her, and it brings you a sort of dark satisfaction in knowing that past all that discomfort she’s feeling, she loves the way your cock stretches her out and fills her defenceless little hole. 

With her ankles over your shoulders, you’re practically spearing yourself vertically into her ass, fucking her deep and making her feel every inch of your throbbing meat inside of that hot, tight hole. Every penetration is punctuated by a deep, guttural groan from Wonyoung, sometimes a curse, or something along the lines of: fuck. So fucking full. You know for a fact that the pained sounds you hear now will turn into airy gaps of pleasure once she gets used to the discomfort, and that she’d probably be a mewling mess by the time you reach the stage where she can take you in and out of her ass with only pleasure in her system and no pain. For now, you’ll settle with the pace you have—slow, long strokes in and out of her ass while she squeezes her eyes to block out all sensations distracting her from enjoying the sensation of her ass being filled with cock. You have to admit that she’s doing a great job at it, and your praise vocalises itself in the rather harsh form of, “what a good little slut.” 

(And here’s something interesting you noted: never once in this whole thing did she ask you to stop, nor did you ever think about stopping to let her adjust. If this was anyone else, you would have given them a moment to breathe upon entering, and you certainly would be checking on their wellbeing throughout it all. 

Thing is—the two of you know her too well to know that you could only dream of stopping once you got started with her, and it could only end in two ways. 1) You cum in her. 2) You cum on her. Edge her and you’ll never get the end of it, you would know. The last time you pulled a stunt on her like that, she left you tied to a chair with a vibrator taped to your cock till you were begging and a cummy mess. It wasn’t pretty. She could dominate if she wanted to, but she preferred to be a manipulative brat instead.)

It’s not long before she’s desensitised to the pain, and your slow pace is not enough, no, not for Wonyoung. Next thing you know it, she hissing for you to go faster, fuck her harder—I told you to fuck my ass Daddy. Don’t hold back on me now—and deeper. She swears, all three languages that she knew strung together shabbily like they were put together on some shitty production line and thrown out at random—and while you made little sense of the sounds coming out of her filthy mouth you knew what they meant.

Harder. Faster. Rougher.

Then you fuck her ass. Hard and fast.

You almost surprised yourself with the liberties you were taking, drilling in and out of her butt with the same speed and depth that you would use with her mouth and pussy.

“Yes!” she shouts—a loud, full shout. “Yes! Fuck me like this! Pound me, fuck me until you cum in my slutty little ass!”

You grunt in reply, because it was all you could do. The faculties of human language have long since abandoned your grasp and ability, and nothing else exists in your mind except the thought of filling her tight, hothole with warm, white semen. Her eyes lock with yours and you only find that they’re full of need, nothing else (not like she’s capable of displaying any other emotion at the moment). The rest of you, every fibre of your being, was focused on pounding Wonyoung’s tight little hole as hard and fast as you possibly could. Her ankles bounce helplessly behind your head, her knees press into her shoulders and her breath is ragged; sweat drips off your forehead and onto her tits, and your hot breath mixes with hers as you struggle to keep yourself propped up with your arms.

In short: the two of you are sweaty and messy (one more so than the other. Take a pick, not sure if there’s a prize for guessing right), victims of lust and slaves to pleasure. You blame Wonyoung just because you can.

For a few delicious moments, there is absolutely nothing in the world aside from the tight hot sheath of flesh around your cock, the warm flesh of her legs against your shoulders and the strands of sweat-slick hair that fly just about everywhere, all topped with the lewd, filthy, obscene words spilling from Wonyoung’s mouth. For a few delicious moments, she feels nothing but the feeling of her tight hole being stretched and used by the cock that turns her face into a wrought outlet of pleasure while she lets filthy words and exclamations spill from her lips. 

Try as you might, you couldn’t have it last forever. Not when you were already so turned on from watching her writhe and twitch under your fingers. Not when the sheer, pure pleasure overwhelming you was more than enough to cause you to cum at any moment.

And when she orgasms for the second time, her ass tightening exponentially around you—there is little you or anyone else could have done to stop the inevitable.

“I’m gonna cum in your ass, Wonyoung,” you hiss through gritted teeth, your lust and pleasure-addled brain on the edge of losing all comprehension.

“Cum with me! Fill me!” 

And so you do it, burying yourself hilt deep inside the quivering woman’s asshole before filling it with the last of your cum, giving her every last drop you had left in your body, leaving rope after rope inside her sore, well-used, cum-filled asshole. You almost black out, and you quite literally have to dig your nails into the sheets while Wonyoung’s own orgasm takes over her body, making her twitch and her ass contract—milking every last bit of cum from your throbbing, twitching length till it was nothing but a dry, hard rod inside of her creamy asshole. 

There’s silence that is punctuated by both of your ragged breaths. She looks at you, you look at her. And the two of you can’t help but chuckle at the mess you’ve made of each other. You want to remember the way her nose wrinkles as she teases you, “you fucking animal”, and you want, so badly, to burn the image of a sweaty, weary Jang Wonyoung, folded in half beneath you like she was a piece of origami paper, panting and gasping as a fresh load of cum spills out of her ass. 

It takes energy, but you bend down and kiss her, letting her sweaty calves slide off your equally sweaty shoulders as you do. She’s satisfied, for now, and she pulls you down next to her on the hotel bed with one hand and gathers the cum leaking out of her ass with the other. 

“Look at this,” she whispers, and your eyes train themselves on the pearlescent, sticky, slimy, fluids that run down from her fingertips slowly. “You made such a big mess inside my ass,” she chides before bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking your cum right off her fingers like it’s a delicacy. “Now I have to clean all of this up. You’re lucky I like the way your cum tastes.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Um… Ew?”

Wonyoung smirks and gently nudges you with her left foot.

“It’s okay,” she tells you, all smug and everything. “I know you love the way I taste too.”

* In the dark, her small hand creeps around your torso and grasps yours. 

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” She’s whispering right into your ear, and it’s a sensation you want to be able to hold on to for the rest of your life. “I know your eyes are open.” The feel of her small fingers rolling the knuckle of your index finger sticks itself in your head like a post-it. “ I can hear and feel you tossing, you know?”

Okay. No dodging. 

The sheets stay still as your shoulders turn. You roll over, face her, and you really just want to capture the way the night lights paint her face: doe-like eyes reflecting glimmering pools of moonlight, warm yellow light painting her cute-yet-so-fucking-gorgeous face in a manner that not even Van Goh could copy, lips parted slightly as if in mid speak. She’s right there—you can kiss her if you really want to.

“Are you still mad at me?” She asks, tender with her tone. “I know that I fucked up, okay?” You can tell that she’s not even trying to look pitiful at the moment, but the way her face is sculpted really makes you want to just hold her to your chest and stroke her hair. Sincere are her words—heart heaved into her mouth. “I don’t blame you if you’re still mad. It’s your right. But… Just hear me out? Please?”

If you were mad, you wouldn’t have let her hold your hand the way she was now. If you were mad, you would’ve pretended to be fast asleep; ignore her pleas and just close your eyes and fall asleep. Alas, you can never stay mad at her for too long.

“I was… Never really angry, Wony.” Your tone is a lot softer than you would ever expect, but you know it’s because you probably needed this talk more than she did. “I... I’m sorry if it came across that way.”

And she studies you for a moment, lets the sound of your breathing fill the space as she furls her upper lip into her front teeth, and it’s a perfect moment for you to try and understand what’s happening in her head. She’s a complex creature really; understanding her is like finding a meaning that everyone can agree on when you look at abstract art.

Down below, you can still hear the cars moving through the street. Billboards and screens are still on, and from the window in your bedroom, multi-coloured lights filter into the room past the blinds like moonlight through bamboo leaves. The sheets you lie in are fresh, and they feel nice and smooth against your skin, and they smell like roses. The mattress creaks a little as Wonyoung shifts her weight, and you have to admit that you’re half-drunk on the scent of her shampoo. 

“You must have been scared,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I got really emotional. I… I shouldn’t have walked out. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know how to reply to that. Not now at least. Maybe it’ll come to you the next morning.

You give her a sweet smile. You hug her to your chest. You want to remember how she feels in your arms.

*

The gentle trickle of water down the arch of her spine is really something—a steady stream flowing down her back, running over the muscles of her shoulders, the curve of her breasts and fraying at her plump ass. You can’t remember the last time you showered with her, but you certainly remember the view being this good. 

In the shower of room 302, Jang Wonyoung lets the warm water hit her skin from the rain shower nozzle. Her hair—wet and freshly shampooed (and conditioned)—sticks to her back. Creamy skin glistens, small beads of water affix themselves to random parts of her body, stay there for one or two seconds, then roll down in streaks, almost as if they too were admiring Wonyoung’s well-sculpted figure.

Slim fingers grasp locks of hair. She lifts and looks over her shoulder, the whisper of a grin on her face as she shoots a beckoning wink. “Are you gonna help me soap my back? Or are you just gonna keep staring at my ass?”

“Don’t you have to, like, turn off the water first?” you ask, and you already know what she’s gonna say, but you just want to hear her say it. For memory sake.

“Mmmm.” Her humming as she ‘ponders’ reverberates in the shower, floating over the sound of water from the shower head falling to the floor like rain. “No… Adds to the atmosphere, don’t you think?” 

Ah. There we go.

“Then could you at least step back?” you request. This shower is comically huge—long length, breadth about the same length as your arm span. In the space, she looks so tiny, but you know for a fact that she could probably walk to the other end of the shower in a stride. You’re not one to disregard the facts, but you do like to live with a bit of imagination.

Wonyoung chuckles, low and sonorous. She pushes her hair over her shoulder, then—painfully slowly—walks back till she’s out of the stream of water. Water wastage is the last thing on her mind. She stops when she feels your hands on her back, and she looks over her shoulder, expectant. You move your hands and the soap lathers as it’s spread. You start from the centre of her back, rubbing gently in the section where the muscles of her shoulders meet and working your way outwards and upward to her shoulders. Then it’s down from there, your palms moving in small circles and covering every inch of skin.

“You’re good at this,” she mutters, watching with intent as your hands start to trail to her lower back. “Maybe you should’ve been a masseuse instead of a writer.”

“Uh… Patronising much?” You chuckle, watching as her back muscles twitch a little when you apply gentle pressure. “The pay’s about the same,” the soap makes patterns across the area above her ass—spirals of foam that stick to her skin like styrofoam flowers. “The hours are probably the same… But I don’t think I can live on rubbing someone’s back really hard. I Think I’ll just save this service for you, but only for when we meet.”

Humored, Wonyoung offers a giggle, high pitched and cutting above the sound of water striking the floor tiles. She shifts her weight to her right foot, making her body slant a little. Her skin is soft under your palms. Your hands are going lower and lower, slowly spiralling towards the curve of her ass that’s literally just a centimetre away.

“You know…If you take up my offer, you can do this for me everyday.”

Your hands slow to a stop. You raise your head a little to find her searching for your gaze over her shoulder. “Oh?”

“Yea.” Her voice is low, like a mother trying to persuade her child to eat their vegetables. “Every night, we can be like this: you soaping my back, us chatting… Doesn’t it sound wonderful?”

Your lip furls behind your front teeth. “Yea… It really does.”

And in her gaze, you sense her sensing your apprehension. “What’s stopping you from taking it up then?”

(For context, here’s the deal proposed by her company: the two of you go public with the relationship, get clout for the company, and Starship will let you lead your lives together—no qualms, no disturbances. She can visit you whenever, live with you, appear outside together with you like it’s a regular Tuesday night; you get to date the girl you fell in love with all those years ago for real. Only issue: once you get the last stroke of your signature out on the contract, you practically agree to blurring the line between your private and public life. Press will be all over you like ants after you step on their nest, you probably won’t get to enjoy a cup of coffee in peace, everyone will suddenly want to curry favours with you… Was it worth the sacrifice?)

You find it hard to meet her eyes, and so your gaze affixes itself on your hands. It’s not like you don’t love her or anything, but your apprehension makes you feel like shit. It shouldn’t be this hard to say yes, yet the idea of selling your life of privacy to live a life with her makes you screech to a halt at the crossroads. Sometimes (in these moments), you wished that you didn’t always make decisions with your head and your heart. 

As the shower continues to run, Wonyoung slowly turns around. One hand finds yours, the other gently takes you by the chin and raises your eyes up to her. She’s tall, and the two of you are staring eye to eye; same height, different trains of thought.

The hand on yours guides you to her breast. Eyes locked with yours, she lays your palm flat against her tit. The skin beneath your fingers is slippery, but it doesn’t remove any of the familiarity from the sensation. Then she squeezes, and the flesh spills out between your fingers like putty. She gasps—airy. 

“Don’t you want me?” She whispers, and it’s raunchy more than anything. It isn’t aggressive, but it’s certainly blurring the line between demanding and caring. “Don’t you want to be able to fuck this pretty little pussy every night?”

She’s really far from home base. “Wony…”

“Don’t you love owning me?” She’s squeezing harder. Her knee twitches. Sopa’s spilling out of your fingers. You’re certain that you’re gonna mark her. She doesn’t care. “Don’t you want me all over you? Every night?”

“It’s not that Wonyoung.”

“Then what’s on your mind?” She’s not prodding for an answer, nor is she trying to demand a reason for your silence. She wants to understand you, to internalise what’s going on inside your head. You have no reason to lie.

“Will it all really be okay?” you ask sincerely. “My family, my life… Will… Will it all really be…”

She understands where you’re coming from (if the relieving of pressure around her own breast is any indication), and she’s starting to tune herself to the frequency of your worries. “If you’re wondering if you’re gonna be harassed—you won’t.”

“Yea but—”

“I promise you: I will do everything I can to make sure that you will be safe. You and your family–if so much as a finger is laid on any of you, I will quit.”

“Wonyo—”

“No one will intrude on you. You won’t have to live with the flashing lights. I give you my word: I will make sure that everyone who wants to invade your privacy will leave you alone. You and your family will all be left alone.”

If it’s possible for sincerity to ring clear, Jang Wonyoung has absolutely made it happen. Sweet like honey; she’s left you feeling like you had a spoonful of it. And just for good measure, she steps closer and repeats once more: “I promise.”

Considering that your hand was at the left side of her chest, this was really a “I swear. Hand to my heart” type of deal (whether it’s intended or not is purely up to your discretion). 

And as you gaze into those eyes, you want to remember the way she gazes at you softly, gently, tenderly. If it weren’t for your hand on her tit, you would’ve considered this one of the more tender moments you’ve shared with her. Not that it’s not or anything… Just that it’s a little hard to call this a loving moment when you can literally feel her nipple poking into the flesh of your palm at all times of the conversation.

“Are you sure you won’t land yourself in trouble?” you ask her, and she’s quick to scoff.

“Of course. I make too much fucking money fo those higher up fuckers to not listen to me,” she reminds you. 

Well… Then that settles about everything then.

“Okay,” you tell her. “Okay… I’ll do it.”

The corners of her lips play up in a smile. She leans in, kisses you—no tongue, closed mouth—and lets the hand keeping yours at her breast fall. Long arms wrap around your waist and she pulls you close, flushing her tight frame against your body. When lips part, she whispers a soft I love you, a sparkle in eyes that lingered for a moment.

But only for a moment.

Then—without you noticing—her hand snakes down and grips your rapidly hardening shaft, and she squeezes. This time, the line between demanding and caring is clear as day, and she’s chosen to play her ball to the court of demanding. With a gleam in her eye, she begins stroking with her closed fist, and she pumps your stiff length at a slow but steady rhythm, adding an occasional twisting motion to her wrist, corkscrewing her fingers around your cock, increasing the pleasurable shocks she was sending through your system with each pump of her hand. It was almost like she wasn’t the sweetest, loving girl in the whole world just two seconds ago.

“Jesus fucking…” You can’t even finish your sentence. Your teeth grit. Your fists clench. It’s hard to breathe. “Maybe… A little bit of a heads up next time?”

She smirks proudly, watching as you tilt your head back and let out a groan. “Where’s the fun in that?” And gently, she pushes against your chest, guides you to the wall. When your back presses against the cool tile, she presses herself against you. She leans in, hot breath on your skin, and then the feeling of her lips against your jaw almost makes you yelp. She kisses a path down your jaw, paves a way towards your neck to get cheeky: sucking, nibbling, licking the skin of your neck while she keeps the movement of her hands slow and considerate. The shower continues to run.

Do you know—she breaks contact with your skin for just a second—how fucking horny—her breath’s tickling your ear, sending shivers down your spine—you make me?—and she squeezes a little harder around your shaft, not enough for it to hurt, but enough to feel you throb in your hand and make you gulp a little. She starts going faster—jerking, fucking pumping your length in her closed fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your eyes open; your eyelids flutter shut. Your head rests against the wall, a sigh slipping past your lips. It’s filthy really—down from the way she catches you off guard to the way she makes your skin sore after she’s done feasting. Almost every interaction with her in a private space is as X-rated as this; it’s hard not to get into a situation like this around her. You know: a situation where the two of you are naked and getting really touchy and actively trying to get each other as many times as humanly possible. 

“Fuck yes baby…” you rasp, your nails starting to eat into your palms as she the sound of her hand sliding up and down your dick starts to cut above the steady stream of water. With each rise of her hand, the pad of her thumb plays with the head of your member, and when it sinks down, she twists her wrist in a screwing motion. Rinse and repeat; up and down and up and down and fuck. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

She hums in reply, and she has your earlobe between her teeth the next second, nicking you mischievously, sending small pricks of pain shooting through your system as she adjusts her grip on your cock without ever breaking her motion. Next thing you know, your tongue is inside your ear, and she’s leaning in so close that when you open your eyes, you’re practically looking over her shoulder, looking down the curve of her back that glistens with moisture and soap bubbles.

“I love this cock so fucking much,” she whispers, a bit of a hiss in her words as she takes the head of your cock between her forefinger and thumb and pinches lightly. “It stretches me out when I need it.” her fingers start to trail down your slipper shaft, letting the smoothness of her palm rub against your whole length, “fills me when I want it.” She’s milking the precum out of you, making you all leaky and squirmy as she starts pumping faster. “And it’s so fucking big that I can choke on it. You know how much I love being choked.”

She chooses that last bit to make eye contact with you, and she’s practically served you what she wants next on a silver platter. The next move is clear cut and simple; no words need be spoken. You were going to fuck her—and you mean properly fuck her—with a hand wrapped around that small throat. How you were gonna do it was still a mystery, but you figured that it’d slowly come to you, but it will definitely be related to the mirror and the sink outside and the mirror in front of it. At once, you reach over to the handle of the shower, and you turn it down to the handheld showerhead mode. Wonyoung bites her bottom lip, perverse glee painted all over her face as you use it to wash the soap off her back. She’s watching, waiting, probably drenched down there and aching to be stuffed full of cock.

She’s almost shaking with excitement as you finish washing all the soap off her body. You’d hardly consider her clean, but it won’t hurt to hop back into the shower again once you're done with her. The shower door swings open and you’re cupping her pussy, dripping wet while stumbling out with her, lips locked on hers and her hand on your cock as you push her against the sink of her hotel room. From the moment her mouth opens and let the moans pour out while you rub her clit to the moment her hand leaves your cock to cradle your face, she’s practically radiating need from the pores of her skin. You can’t help but playfully remark, “you’re such a fucking loser”, while your thumb thumps against her clit and sends pleasure tearing through her system. Weak in the knees, she holds on to you for support.

And the moans (those fucking hair-raising moans), they tumble out of those plump lips like marbles down a ramp, and they mix with the sound of your lips smacking against her skin as you start to leave a trail of kisses down her neck, doing to her what she did to you in the shower; you give her a taste of her own medicine, and the way she’s titling her head back to let you mark her freely makes it almost seem as if it’s the intended outcome of her actions. It’s like she knew that you would get back at her, and it wouldn’t come as a surprise if you ever find out that she gets off on knowing that she can manipulate you in her own bratty ways—get you wrapped around her finger and have you doing all the things she wants you to do without having to tell you. Not that you have something to gripe about it, but you’re just so amused (and that’s just one word to describe how you feel) by how she goes about her ways.

“Come on,” she manages to whisper, all while you’re busy sucking on the skin just below her collarbone till it’s sore. She has a lot of pride in her voice for someone who’s quite literally quivering. “You know you want to fuck me. Give me a good creampie again.” 

You lift your head for a moment, and you take in the look of almost childlike excitement on her face as your hand finds its way to her throat. It’s perverse excitement, that lewd exhilaration of knowing that she was about to get what she wanted, and albeit a little messed up, it was pretty hot in its own way. When your fingers gently wrap themselves around her throat, you can feel every muscle in her body tense in anticipation, as if she didn’t get enough from the bedroom earlier.

“Up on the counter baby. Let me see how messy you are down there,” you whisper.

She knows what to do, and she has herself propped up on the counter and engaged in open mouth kissing. She doesn’t need you to tell her to spread her legs, and she definitely doesn’t need you to tell her how cute she sounds when your fingers slip inside of her, feeling around the mess you’ve made of her and coating your digits in her fluids. Your index and middle finger are slick with her juices when you retract them from inside her, and you can’t help but chuckle. 

“Messy as ever,” you muse, making a show of sucking her juices clean off your fingers. She’s sweet and borderline tangy—a taste that you’re accustomed to, and you will never get tired of it. She’s biting down on her lower lip, the skin wrinkling under the pressure of her front teeth as she makes a sound that’s close to a purr. 

“You made the mess.” She has her eyes locked on yours as you raise an eyebrow, prompting her to follow up after her first statement. Not that you didn’t know what was coming, but more that you wanted to gently coax it out of her, because it was so fucking hot to hear what she had to say next. “You clean it up.”

And you’re more than happy to oblige. She watches you with intent eyes as you sink down to your knees, waits with bated breath as you lower your face till the glistening, pink folds of her pussy are right in front of your face, flushed thighs around your ears. Her excitement is almost palpable, and you can hear the sharp inhale she takes when your palm finds its place on the inside of her left thigh, pushing gently to give you better access to her heat (you’re really just trying to drag out the tension if you were being completely honest with yourself). You lick your lips, lean forward till your mouth is hovering above her slit. 

“You better moan for me this time,” you tell her, and you’re making sure to make your breath hit her slick as you speak. “You have such a wonderful voice. Put it to use.”

Praise mixed with the slight hint of authority—it’s enough to make her nod furiously and implore you with doe eyes to just get on with it. With a smirk, your lips find the swollen nub at the top of her entrance. You suck on it. Hard. And almost at once, her thighs clamp around your ears and her hand is on your head, like it’s some sort of natural instinct for her when you’re eating her out. Keeping to her word, she cries out—keening, whiny and ever so fucking bratty, and it’s the the holy grail of every wet dream. Nothing in the world could bring you more satisfaction than that shrill, airy cry she lets out when the pleasure ripples through her body, and you’re just getting started. 

Your mouth opens and your tongue flattens itself against her folds, (She tastes so good. You want all of it, all of her) and you drag it up her folds, deliberately, painfully slow as you start to lick up that wet cunt. Her back arches; you can feel her struggling to keep a hold of your head; she throws her head back and lets out a gasp; her thighs clamp down a little harder around your head. The pleasure in her system builds up with the slow movement of your tongue, only rising and rising as you lick from the base of her slit to the mid section to the top. When the tip of your tongue flicks her clit, it's almost like an explosion, enough for her other hand to join its pair atop your head, enough to make her cry out in a perverse plea, “Daddy, please!”

(For the record: she’s wanted this from the moment you guys stepped into the shower. She’s willingly turned herself into some pliant little plaything, and she’s probably getting off so hard to it. Frankly, if she wanted to order you around, you’d be up to it, but this is what she prefers.)

And nothing else needs to be said really. You put your whole mouth on her—relishing the shiver that runs up from her thighs up to her body—and get right into making a wreck of her. You lick, you devour, you ravish her: working your mouth on her pussy, lapping up the juices that spill forth from flushed lips with broad, sharp strokes that make her body grow taut and her legs quiver. You tongue her clit, lick up sweet fluids, make her messy and needy and hot in all the right areas till she’s drilling her nails into the back of your scalp and pushing your face against her sweet slick. In half whispers, she tells you just how good you make her feel—oh Daddy I’m so fucking wet!—and you feel a dark part of yourself be fed by these lecherous words—Oh god oh fuck I’m gonna fucking cum if you keep… Fuck!—that leave her half-parted mouth and linger in the air, reminding you of just how wanton she is and how you’re the only person in the world she ever wants to fuck and be satisfied by. You’re hers; she’s yours—a relationship with Jang Wonyoung that any guy would kill for. 

“Daddy—” she gaps, her voice a whole octave higher than it should be as her nails turn into claws at the back of your head. “Fuck I’m cumming. Daddy I’m cumming!”

The pulsing of her pusy against your tongue grows. You continue licking, lapping. One stroke, two strokes—three. She moans, blue screens. You hazard a look up.

Nothing else matters. Only: the sight of that back arching off the marble counter, her thighs around your head trembling and quaking as her hips roll and her mouth parts in a silent scream. You’re certain that there’s blood being drawn from the back of your head, but you're more certain that she’s got enough heat in her core to melt molten iron but a lack of breath that makes her gasp for air as you lick and lick and lick your way into her. You can feel her orgasm getting closer by the second, it’s in her breathing, and in the way her hips are practically thrusting her into your mouth.

And just like the bathrobe from earlier, she comes undone—falls apart and ceases to keep control of her body. She tenses, her thighs go rigid around your ears. Her breath is caught in her throat, her eyes are closed. You stop your work, admire the way she glows as her body twitches and her face twists. Pleasure rips its way through her muscles, her nerves—splits her very being in half as the orgasm rolls through her system. She’s beautiful, and she’s a messy work of art that you’ve created. 

You rise to your feet as she winds down, and her hands leave your head to rest on the counter while her body struggles to process the aftermath of that orgasm. It’s not the first time she’s cum for the night, and it certainly won’t be the last. Her eyes open, and she instantly locs them on you as you brush back some of the hair that sticks to her sweat slicked face. You take her hand and give a gentle tug, and she slips off the counter obediently. You grip her jaw—tenderly but rough enough for her to like it—and tell her to turn around. Servile, she obeys, and in the reflection of the mirror, she watches as your hand snakes its way to her throat and grips it. You’re not squeezing, not yet. 

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy now,” you drawl, gripping your shaft in your hand and slapping it against her slit. The contact makes her shudder, but she remains silent as you place a kiss on her cheek. “Your face is gonna be so pretty when I choke you and fill you.”

“Yes Daddy.” Her reply is a whisper, a borderline drawl that’s airy and raunchy and makes your hairs stand on their ends. She’s looking at you through the mirror, plump lips slightly parted and eyes glassy. “Own me. I’m yours, forever.”

And you’re all too happy to hear that from her.

You slip into her, hilt yourself inside her in one swift motion. 

(Tight. Hot. Wet. So tight.)

She lets out a sigh, low and sonorous, harmonising with your own groan as you press her against the edge of the counter and make the fingers around her throat squeeze. The sound that leaves her throat is the sound of her sigh being truncated, and it delights that dark part of you. Being inside Wonyoung was otherworldly, as it always was, but here, in the bathroom of her hotel, on the night where you’ve agreed to seal a deal with her, she felt downright heavenly.  She squeezes her walls around you, her body thankful for the sensation of being filled by cock, if the intense tightness and slick wetness were any indication; she looks over her shoulder and bites her bottom lip. And when she has your gaze, she mouths something. 

Fill me.

The silence is deafening, but it’s all you need to hear. 

When you withdraw your glistening shaft for the first time you relish in the feel of her walls gripping you, not wanting to release you—but just as quickly they welcome you back inside as you penetrate her again. Soon you are pumping in and out of her at a slow, steady pace, her soft gasps turning quickly into long, drawn out moans as she is fucked against the marble. Her hands steady her body against the counter, her back arched in a way that lets you get a wonderful top-down view of her breasts as they roll together with her body. It’s a concerted effort, but she makes it seem effortless. 

“Be honest.” With the hand around her throat, her voice sounds a little hoarse. It’s hot. “Do you think about this, Daddy? About fucking me like a good little slut?”

“Wonyoung,” you reply, speaking through your gritted teeth. “You have no,” and you punctuate the sentence there with a deeper thrust into her tight slick, a thrust strong enough for her to let out a strained gasp. “fucking idea…”

(In the mirror, you watch as she curls her lips into her mouth and tilts her head back into your shoulder, like she’s submitting her whole being to you and letting you take liberties with her body. You take the invitation, and your free hand finds itself on one of her soft mounds and gives it a squeeze—rough but tender enough to elicit a low moan from her throat that makes your hand around it vibrate pleasantly. 

At the given moment, she’s doing all she can to make herself a pretty little fuckdoll for you, doing her best to encourage you to treat her rough, treat her like you own her. She wants nothing more but to feel the rockhard meat penetrating her tight little cunt stretch her out and fill her the way she wants, all while she’s begging and pleading obsequiously while being obsessed with your cock. It’s a lot to take in for her for sure, but she gets off on it, and you get off on it too—the fact that she’s being all needy and pleading just so she can implicitly tell you to fuck her till she’s raw and can’t fucking walk the next morning. The fact that she’s actually in control while being such a bottom. Bratty manipulation.)

“Then fuck me Daddy,” she tells you, almost pleading. “Use this pretty little pussy. I want it. I fucking need it.”

With her invitation to do more with her body, you’re more than ready to do what you’ve intended to do from the very start. You increase your tempo, and before long you are truly fucking her, drilling in and out of the tight hot warmth of her body with quick, deep strokes. With each stroke you don’t pull out more than halfway—you concentrate instead on pumping hard and fast, getting as deep as you could inside her given your standing position. She takes it well, like she was made for this. In her world, this was what fucking looked like, and it was the only definition that she was going to live with and she’d take it to the grave. She indulges in the roughness, the almost animal-like way your cock fills her again and again and again, all while she encourages you with cries and moans and sighs that are music to your ears. 

And a notion hits you: she’s going to make you fuck her till she’s the only thing you can possibly think about. She’s going to draw out every single primal urge within you, make you want her like she’s some form of drug and you’re the abuser, and then she’s going to get exactly what she wants—your cum in her pussy. You can’t let her win like that, you can’t. You can tell that to yourself now, but you’re not sure if you can remember it later, not when she practically reeks of the strongest possible sillage of sex. 

Her pussy throbs around you, pulse strong and just a beat behind your thrusts as you thrust yourself in and out of her slick walls, filling her up and drawing yourself out before filling her up yet again. Pure filth spills from her mouth, expletives, sordid sighs and cries and any sound or word that comes to mind. She's a quivering and squirming mess, and from the mirror you enjoy the way she’s almost writhing in against the counter. Ample breasts bounce with each thrust that shocks her body, and it’s almost hypnotic if it weren’t for the fact that that pretty face was stealing the show. The face that was marvelled, the face that was the source of jealousy, the face that was on the face of so many magazines and posters and adored by millions, if not billions—scrunched up, improper and so fucking lewd that it looked like it belonged in a porno instead of an idols face, and you take pleasure in the fact that your cock is ruining the face of a princess, turning her dissolute and so fucking needy that she was as good as a fan begging her for an autograph. This side of her was reserved for you, and only you—her duality is reserved for your eyes only. 

Her body is slick with sweat, rubbing against your own sweaty torso while her body rolls together with your thrusts. “Fuck—” you’re saying, but it comes out as more of a growl than anything given how hard yur teeth are clenching. Your fingers squeeze tighter around her throat. The slightly reduced airflow at her throat causes her pussy to clench even tighter around you—and the added tightness brings succulent pleasure to your mind that makes you think you’re going insane. You probably are at this rate. “This pussy. It’s so fucking good baby.”

Her reply is a strained gasp, but you get the gist of what she wants to say. She wants, so badly, to tell you how good your cock is making her feel, how well it fucks her, how well it fills her and stretches her and how it’s her favourite thing in the whole world. The squelch of your cock filling her pussy is loud, but not loud enough to drown out the smacking of skin against skin as you press more of your weight against her, pushing her a little more into the corner of the counter and a little more over the line of pathetic. She moans in response to your actions, and it’s telling you: fuck. Harder. It’s better when it hurts. 

And you can feel her juices leaking down the back of her thighs, wetting your crotch and making the smack of skin against skin louder than ever, almost as if it was an announcement: I’m being fucked like a good little slut and I love it. She doesn’t know what she’s doing to you,and for clarity, it’s something along the lines of turning you absolutely feral with her moans and the divine tightness of her pussy that makes you want to cum on the spot. Okay,maybe she is cognizant of how crazy she makes you when you fuck her, but you barely have the capacity to think, let alone rationalise wether thai girl in your arms that your chocking and fucking feel smug in knowing that she’s driving you insane. 

Oh and she loves it when you play with her tits. The way you fondle them is almost aggressive. Scratch that—it’s really fucking aggressive. You’re slapping her tits, leaving red marks all over the milky white skin and pinching and twisting the stiff nubs atop her breasts, all while she mewls and cries out in that strained voice that makes you throb even harder inside of her wet walls and makes you grit your teeth like your a dog waiting to chew on a bone. 

“D-Daddy,” she pushes out, past the fingers that close her airways and past her groans and moans and sighs. “Harder.” And your thrusts are starting to cut her off, but she has more to say. When it comes out, each word that she spits out is punctuated by a thrust of cock into her pussy, and it’s the hottest thing you’ll ever hear. 

Fuck.

You thrust deep inside her. 

Me.

Your cock drives itself deep into her, slicking itself with her juices.

Harder.

And if words could linger in the air, hers certainly would. 

You fuck her hard, and fast, and deep—hammering her into the counter, nailing her defenseless pussy with a pace that you would have thought was rough and callous were it not for the fact you knew this was exactly how she wanted it. All she can do is hang on, grasp onto the counter with a knuckle-white grip with her hands as you take your liberties with her body, fucking her as hard as you can, as deeply as she can take it. The cups on the counter shake, the toothbrush inside one of them shaking under the force. It’s loud,  but you hear none of it. You hear only the sharp sighs of pleasure that leave Wonyoung’s lips, and the wet slap slap slap of your crotch as it hammers her cunt again and again and again, your cock drilling her, pounding her, making her yours if you weren’t already doing that.

It takes a little long, but the haze of lust parts for a moment for you to realise that you're getting closer and closer to getting what she wants out of you. While the thought of burying yourself inside of that quivering, pulsing pussy to let it milk every last drop of cum from you is ever so enticing, that small part of you that wants to own her pushes you to fight against the urges. Not that there’s any harm in giving her what she wants, but it’s just that you don’t want to reward her bratty, manipulative tactics. She knew for a fact that she could tie you up and ride you over and over till you were dry—she’d done it before. But instead, she’s chosen to fulfil her needs in a less direct manner, maybe for fun or maybe just because she felt like it. 

“Yes,” Wonyoung hisses, spit flying into the mirror and her palms slipping on the counter. “Just like this Daddy.” And she’s making sure to make eye contact with you through the mirror, letting her eyes do most of the talking. If anyone’s curious, the look she gives you is saying, I’m your good little slut. Fuck me. Use me. Fill me. Please, and it's nothing short of hot and tethering far over the line of lewd. At this point, neither of you are in a state where you're capable of coherent thought, nor are you capable of thinking about anything else except each other’s bodies and the wet, lewd squelching of cock filling Wonyoung’s pussy. It goes on and on and on, a cycle of your hips hammering the back of her legs and your cock spearing deep into her cunt.  She takes it so well, drinking you in hungrily, coiling around your shaft like a snake as if it was begging for you to stay in her forever. The sight is enough to make your balls tingle and your toes curl, and your hand around Wonyoung's throat tightens to the point where the only thing that can leave her lips is a groan as her airflow is reduced. 

She’s tighter, hotter, wetter. Her pussy fits you like a glove, moulding around your cock as it pumps in and out of her at a pace that you had no idea you were capable of. The hand around her neck is nothing but an outlet of pleasure for you, and she’s loving it. “Such a good girl,” you mutter, watching from the mirror as her mouth slacks and opens while she’s being pumped full of cock. “You were made to take Daddy’s cock, weren’t you?”

Her equivalent of a yes is a sharp, strained groan—an amalgamation of phonics and whatever sounds the lack of air flowing to her throat permits her to make. She’s so fucking messy down there, and your cock is sliding in and out of her with ease, aided by her slick juices that coat your shaft and let it disappear and reappear from between her legs with ease. The motion is almost graceful if it weren’t for the fact that it was a sordid one, and you take a moment to admire the way your shaft glistens in the light of the bathroom while you fuck her the way she wants it: rough, hard and tethering over the edge of callous. If it weren’t for the hand around her throat, she’d be making herself hoarse with all the moaning she’d be doing.

And the hand around her throat is bringing her so much pleasure, if the way her pussy squeezes around you when you choke her is any indication. She wasn’t lying when she said she liked being choked. While she didn’t like gagging on your cock, she sure as hell loved it when your fingers clasped around the muscles and made her gasp. She liked the sensation of being deprived of air, be it when she was riding or when she has her kness buried into her shoulders and was being fucked into the bed like a slut. You were always afraid of hurting her, but when she shots you that look, the one that says, come on, you can do better, you know that she’s getting exactly what she wants, just the way she likes it. It was just a matter of how hard you squeeze around her throat before she either cums or passes out, though the latter has rarely happened before the former.

“Daddy!” she chokes, and you know exactly what she’s about to say next. So you release her throat from her grasp, bunch a lock of her hair in your closed fist and you pull back. Her eyes squeeze themselves shut. Her back arches deliciously, her voice now free to finish shat she’s aching to announce. “I’m fucking…”

You never expect her to finish her sentence. Wonyoung’s eyes open, and a gasp leaves her open lips. Her walls, already vice-like, tighten so hard around you that you think you might come there and then. You feel how close she is. 

“Fucking cum for me, Wonyoung. Cum around my cock like a good little slut.”

Wonyoung does as she is told—and the quivering, trembling orgasm she experiences is almost frightening in the way it overwhelms her body, turning her into a wet, hot mess. Her pussy tightens and pulsates, her fingers claw against the marble counter, and her entire lower body shakes violently, as though she had lost control of her nerves and muscles. For a few beautiful seconds she is utterly overwhelmed by the sensations, until finally she slumps forward in your grasp, breathing heavily. 

It's good. It's so good, but it's not quite enough to get you to your finish. Not yet.

(And if anyone’s asking: it’s not that the sex isn’t good. It’s mind blowing, amazing, and whatever word that can be used to describe “fucking incredible”.  She’s hot, so tight and fucking soaked down there. You’re horny, throbbing and on the verge of filling her full of your seed. But you’ve said it before and you’ll say it again—you’re not rewarding bratty manipulation. As tempting as it would have been to simply pound her from behind until you gave her needy pussy the load of semen she so desperately wanted, you knew that there was something even better that you could do.)

You pull out of Wonyoung, your shaft glistening under the hotel light. Her eyes are wide with shock as you withdraw yourself from her body, pulling her away from the counter—but only enough to have her lean back against you and not stand up completely. Her mouth opens to say something, but she's interrupted when you turn her face to you and kiss her. She moans into your mouth, and you swallow it, your tongue slipping into her mouth and massaging her own, lapping at the roof of her mouth as her tongue swirled around your own. You bite her lower lip, and it's not rough, but enough to get her attention. When her eyes flutter open, you whisper, "I'm not finished."

She nods, and you relish the disappointment in her eyes. You turn her around, push down gently on her shoulders. She goes with the motion, and you're not sure if you can ever get over the image of Wonyoung on her knees with her pretty little face staring at you with anticipation. You think about fucking her face, letting your cock thrust into the back of her throat over and over and over till you finally bury yourself inside and cum down her throat, but that would just be a repeat telecast of every other night with her. Spice things up; give her the liberty of creativity with your cock. 

And of course, Wonyoung perfectly understands what has to be done. You step up to her. She parts her lips and takes your cock right into her mouth. Grasping the base of your cock and pumping it with one hand while she gently cups and squeezes your balls with the other, Wonyoung quickly launches into a hard and fast blowjob, taking the top half of your cock in and out of her wet mouth with a rapid pace while her fingers work your shaft in a corkscrew motion, just like she did in the shower. The suction of her mouth is almost lethal, and the audacity she has to look up at you while she takes your cock in and out of her mouth is so exhilarating that it makes you weak in the knees. Your hand finds a clump of her sweaty hair, and you close your fingers around it, holding them in your fist. No, you weren’t going to push her head down onto your cock; you had to give her the space to work on her craft. 

And of course, she exceeds every expectation out there. Your eyes shut involuntarily, your brain unable to handle any sensations beyond the wet, hot cavern of Wonyoung’s mouth sealed tightly around your shaft with tight, soft lips. With the first entry into her mouth her wet tongue is pressed tightly against the underside of your shaft, lathering it with her spit. With each subsequent entry her tongue becomes more adventurous, beginning with quick swipes left and right on your shaft with each entry and ending each exit with a swirl of the tip around the head of your cock. While she tastes herself on your cock, letting her juices mix with saliva, her hands work in perfect concert with her mouth, one joining her lips at your shaft and pumping up and down, a twisting motion to her wrist while her free hand works gently with your dangling balls, fondling them with considerate fingers. She plays with them softly yet hastily, her fingertips working their magic between the sacs with expert attention.

You are content to stand there with your eyes shut, simply enjoying the feel of your cock pumping in and out of her mouth at a fervent pace, but a small part of you knew that you had to see it happening in order to truly believe it was all real—and so with a not insignificant amount of self-control, you force eyes open to watch the spectacle unfolding between your legs. Black locks bob up and down frantically above your cock, doe-like eyes glazed with pure lust staring right up at you as her cheeks hollow and her jaw unhinges even more to accommodate your length. 

It all becomes too much, and it hits you all at once—having her pump your shaft in the shower, eating her out then fucking her—and you quickly find yourself nearing that inevitable peak.

“Fuck, Wony—” is all you manage to say before your orgasm overtakes your world.

Wonyoung releases your cock from her mouth a split second before you erupt, shooting long, thick strands of hot semen all over her pretty little face. Her face glazes over in pleasure and you are all too happy to watch as strand after strand of cum lands on her cheeks, her pretty little nose, and finally her open mouth and jaw. You watch, through half-lidded eyes drunk with pleasure, as the thick streams of cum flow down her face, dripping onto her upper chest and those perfect breasts of hers. Her face is flushed and her mouth open, as though she herself was on the verge of orgasm (she probably was, and she was going to make it your problem as soon as she got your cum off her face).

You want to remember the way she wipes your cum off her face with the back of her hand, how she licks it all up like a cat licking its own paw before moving to clean the stray strands of cum off the tip and sides of your cock. You want to remember how she rises so gracefully even though she was a sweaty mess, and how she gently takes your hand and guides you back into the shower for another clean up.   

And back under warm water, you want to remember how she kisses you, and how she whispers, “next time, I want that big load in my pussy.”

*

“What?”

And it’s hard to meet Wonyoung’s eyes as you set down the papers from the doctor. You can feel her confusion, her frustration, her rage from across the dining table in your apartment. It isn’t pretty. Nothing about this situation is. 

“It’s a neurological disease,” you tell her, all while you’re looking at the MRI that’s in the middle of the table. You’re really just regurgitating what the doctor told you—it’s the only thing you have the capacity to do right now. “They ran their tests. They told me what I suspected. I’m losing my ability to read and write, to understand language. In 2 years—give or take —I won’t be able to express my thoughts. I’ll be spouting gibberish. What people say, what I see — on pages, street signs, everywhere — they’ll all be unintelligible to me.” She’s silent, and it unnerves you in every way possible. You haven’t even gotten to the worst part of it all. “My mental competence will deteriorate. I’ll have to live off a tube cause I’ll forget how to eat and drink. Dementia will follow shortly.”  

Now would be a great time for her to say something, anything to break this silence. But she is silent, unmoving and reticent in her seat from across you. You have no choice but to gulp and deliver, in your personal opinion, the worst part of it all, “By the time I forget how to breathe I… I would’ve lost all my memories by then.”

She chooses the moment after the last word leaves your mouth to pick up the MRI scan and look at it. 

“So… Everything we’ve built up till now will just… Disappear?” she whispers. She sounds hurt, scared and everything in between. You bite your lower lip. 

“Yes.” There’s no point sugarcoating it, it’s inevitable anyway. Face it now, sulk later… You think that’s the best way to deal with this piece of news. You hope that the matter-of-fact tone of voice that you’ve chosen doesn't betray how frightened you are by the prospect of losing everything you know. “We can’t stop it. It’s in my genes.”

She sets down the scan, and when you look up, you see the tears flowing down her cheeks and it makes you want to cry as well.

She stands up, shoulders her handbag and walks towards the front door. 

“Where are you—” you begin. “I’m going somewhere else to think,” she interjects. 

When she slams the door behind her, you feel like you’ve let her down in so many ways. There’s a burning in your chest that you can’t describe. The first hot tear rolls down your cheek, and you let the rest that well in your eyes flow down without resistance. 

You don’t want to remember what it feels like to be helpless—the emptiness, the rage, the sadness, the confusion is all so overwhelming. But you figure that you’ll have to feel it again at some point down the road. 

Might as well figure out how to cope with it now, when Wonyoung isn't there and you're all alone with your thoughts.

*

When you awaken later that night in your bed in the apartment, it takes you a few moments to determine whether the soft, slim body climbing atop you is real or part of some wonderful dream—but the familiar warmth of your girlfriend, and the soft, pleasant smell of her hair, convinces you that this was all real.

Wonyoung places soft kisses on your neck and jawline, before moving to your mouth and kissing your lips softly. You are still only half awake, but your senses and instincts take over, and you find your mouth welcoming her kiss and returning it with one of your own, your hands moving to either side of her hips and finding, to your surprise, that there was only bare skin there and no clothing.

“Wony…” you begin, as she deepens her kiss, her lips pressing more firmly against yours.

“Shhh,” she answers, “please. I need this. I need you, right now. Please.”

She’s suddenly reappeared after walking out on you, and you have yet to process the slew of emotions that have come your way. Part of you wants to stop her, to talk things out with her so that you could: a) figure out if she was still mad at you and; b) verify that she wasn’t drunk. But the part of you that formed the majority of your conscience knew that she needed comfort as much as you did, and that she needed something to assuage her and make her feel like everything would turn out alright. So you find yourself relaxing underneath her, letting her scent fill your nostrils as her tongue dances with yours.

She straddles you, and your hands begin to run up her naked body, up from her slim thighs to her chest where the ample mounds sat proudly, her nipples erect and stiff. She isn’t wearing any underwear, and your fingers brushing against the slick of her pussy is enough to verify that for you. She’s naked atop of you, kissing you like you just confessed your love to her or like you’re about to go on some mission and never return. It’s not lustful, but it’s full off passion and aims to soothe not stir. 

She breaks the kiss. Her eyes flutter open. In the dark that is pierced by the street lights of the city, you want to remember the way her eyes glimmer and shimmer as she breathes heavily. There’s no alcohol on her breath, and from the way she’s cradling your face, you can infer that she’s not mad at you in the slightest. 

“You okay?” she whispers, and her tone is soft and warm, like that time she spoke in the shower of her hotel about signing that contract with her company so that the two of you could officially start dating. It’s been some time after that, but you still hang on to the way her words made their way to your heart. “I didn’t mean to startle you if I did.”

You respond by nodding, and it’s enough to convey: I’m alright. You brush away the hair that falls in front of her eyes, and you really want to remember how silky smooth her hair feels in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” you ask her, making sure to keep your tone as warm as her own. She blinks, goes silent for a moment, then answers, “I’m making amends.”

She holds your gaze, you hold hers. The staring contest ends when you gently pull her in for another kiss, and you want to remember how she softly moans into your mouth while her thumb, smooth and tender, caresses your cheek.

When the kiss breaks again, her hands snake their way down to your sweats. You assist her in removing your shorts—a very clumsy affair: tangled hands and arms and lots of chuckling. But your cock does finally spring out from your boxers, the ones that have been discarded in the corner of the bed, together with her clothes. When it’s all done, you have the pleasure of witnessing the sight of her slim frame straddling you once more, long legs surrounding you on either side of your thighs while she peppers kisses on your chest. 

“I’m sorry I left you to deal with… Everything. Alone.”  she begins, “I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that… I’m sorry. I hope you aren’t angry”

And from your lying position, you lift a hand to cup her cheek. “We can talk later.”

She gets the message, but bends down and kisses you nonetheless. You’d probably have trouble falling asleep later in the night, and she’d wake up and you’d have this same conversation again. You’d rather have it later than now, not when the wound is still fresh.

Wonyoung lets a soft smile play on her lips. You are slightly aware of her raising her hips, her right hand finding its way between your bodies to grasp your wet, erect shaft, and line it up with her entrance. She breaks the kiss for the third time that night, searches your eyes for approval to continue with this. Was it make up sex? You didn;t know if it was for sure, but it sure as hell felt like it. What you do no for certain is: you’d like to experience this now, and you want to etch this in your memory for as long as you can before it fades with the rest of your mind. 

You give her the slightest of nods, and you feel the head of your cock press against her wet, tight opening. Slowly, carefully, Wonyoung lowers herself down onto your shaft, your cockhead parting her tight lips to impale her pussy. She gasps loudly as she impales herself fully, and she opens her eyes slightly to match your gaze. You brush stray locks of hair away to reveal her face fully, and you bring her mouth back to yours to kiss her deeply. As your tongues duel, she begins to raise her hips, drawing your shaft out of her body before lowering it once more, and soon she has found a soft, slow rhythm as she rides you, grinding her warm, tight body against yours. 

She raises herself upright and lets her hands rest on top of your chest. You’d like to save that face she makes in a supercut of her other memorable faces: eyes closed, lips slightly parted and the wisp of a smile on her lips as she rocks her hips. From where you lie, you watch as Wonyoung takes you in and out of her body with soft grinding motions, riding you slowly, enjoying every entry and exit of your shaft as it fills her over and over in slow, tender strokes that make her shiver. You watch as your shaft appears for a split second or so before driving back into her, each disappearance accompanied by a soft spike of pleasure. As always, she’s letting moans and sighs and gasps tumble freely from half-parted lips as she takes you in and out of her slowly, rocking her hips with innate grace and elegance. All you do is let your hands rest on her thighs, moaning softly to encourage her as she rides you lovingly, tenderly, a far cry from what you’re used to when it comes down to sex with Jang Wonyoung. 

Through the night, your cock glides in and out of that perfect pussy, elicits moans and gasp and sighs and cute little cusses when you hilt yourself deep inside of her and tug a little at her hair. Her hands were always active, sometimes caressing your chest, sometimes on your jaw, sometimes behind your head as she snaked an arm behind your head to keep you locked where you were just so she could sneak in a kiss. You came in her mouth, her ass, her pussy. She came on your fingers, your cock, your mouth. She cussed a lot, almost passed out once or twice. You cussed a lot two, and you caught her when she almost rolled off the bed (the two of you laughed for a minute about that situation before you ended up spooning on the floor, her leg in the air and your cock pumping in and out of her while she had your back to you and your face in her right hand). 

Bottom line: it was wonderful, wonderful make up sex that ended with both of you sweaty and panting and wanting more from each other but you guys just don’t have that energy to keep going. It was a novelty for both of you, and you wanted to remember just how special she could make you feel, even in the impurest of acts. 

*

The flash of the polaroid camera is almost blinding, but you power through and keep your eyes open. Like a child that’s seeing snow for the first time, Jang Wonyoung watches excitedly as the polaroid emerges from the slot in the camera, and she’s all too eager to grab it and lay it face down on the coffee table in your apartment.

“I thought you’re supposed to shake it?” you ask, watch as she fiddles with the camera for a little bit before she snaps a selfie with her newest purchase. She gives you a look that basically translates to, “uh, are you dumb?” and waits for the next polaroid to emerge from the slot before she launches into her lecture. 

“Shaking the polaroid to make it develop faster is a myth,” the way she sounds so official and everything is so cute. You can’t help but smile a little as she sets the other polaroid down. “It shifts the pigments and blurs the photo, but an idiot like you would need a genius like me to tell that to you.”

The remark is clearly meant to be biting, but it’s nothing short of hilarious to you. “When did you become a camera nerd?”

“Ever since I got this,” she lifts the polaroid camera up and hits you with that you’re on camera smile. “Maybe I should do an ad for this brand. Increase their sales, you know?”

She leaves you to think on that and retrieves the first polaroid she took: a picture of you and her on the couch of your apartment. Not the grandest first photo, but hey, a memory is a memory, and you really are just focusing on cherishing those at the moment. As she leaves the couch to clip the polaroid onto the photo rack (a bunch of metal wires on a metal frame with wooden clips to hold photos) she just set up, you grab your journal next to you and flip it to the page you wrote on a few hours before. With your pen (that you now carry around just about everywhere with your journal), you scribble down a new part of today that you want to remember. It was her idea to journal down everything you wanted to remember. 

The entry goes right under the one about Wonyoung’s new camera.

She looks so happy with that new camera. Bet she’s going to go back to the dorm and show it off to all of her members because she’s a fucking child. I hope that…

And you trail off in your writing, What you wanted to say was just on the tip of your tongue just a second ago. Why can’t you remember it? It was literally just in your head a minute ago…

No. 

You shut the journal. It makes a soft yet substantial thud as the leather cover slaps against pages. You place your pen in your pocket, set the journal back down on the couch and stand up to walk towards your girlfriend, who is currently adjusting the angle that the wooden clip holds the polaroid at. She senses you walking up to her, steps aside and makes a space for you to watch her struggle. You would offer help, but you know that it removes half the fun for her when you do something for her. 

She fiddles around a little more, makes a couple of grunting sounds under her breath, curses a little, and next thing you know, she exclaims, “tada!” while pointing at the first occupant of the photo rack. You roll your eyes, throw an arm over her shoulder and look at the slightly blurry photo within the white frame. 

“With the camera,” she tells you, her tone soft and warm like… Like… Fuck. “I hope that we can help our memories live on. Sounds pretty deep huh?”

You can’t help but chuckle in agreement. You take a moment to stare at the two faces that occupy the space in the polaroid, and you hope to God that they will never, ever look foreign to you. It’s a futile prayer, you know, but a glass-half-full mentality is the best chance you have at not spiralling out of control. 

Wonyoung lays her head on your shoulder, silent and all sentimental as she closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. She lets out a shuddering sigh, and you know that she’s trying not to cry, cause in this situation she’s the one that will end up hurt at the end of it all. You’ll forget the pain of forgetting; she’ll remember the pain of being forgotten. It sucks, but it’s just the way it is. You hug her, hold her close and stroke her hair. You don’t want to forget what she means to you, what you mean to her.

How many more polaroids left till it all ceases to matter?

____________________

Hello! Hope you guys enjoyed this fic. I'm a bit rusty so this one might be a bit funny, but hopefully the style of storytelling I chose didn't fuck you up too bad. Non-linear storytelling will be the death of me. Also: I kinda didn't edit this one too much. My bad hehe.

This was really more of a PSA to cherish the ones you hold close to you, because you never know when they will just disappear. Love the people close to you, cherish them forever.

~Lots of love Nichuuu

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 NOBODY KNOWS kim minji x reader

👛★ ͘ ⴰ ever since summer 2022 new jeans has been at the top of the world surpassing and creating records and getting biggger and better every month but then SM Entertainment drops a new girl group stardom out of knowhere on everyone’s heads “surpassing and creating records” just like a certain group, causing a rivalry in the media and between the groups behind closed doors.

in which behind the secret of rivalry between stardom and new jeans, there’s an even bigger secret between their leaders.

PARING — kim minji x idol!reader

last. masterlist. next

★ ͘ PAGE#1 nobody knows — ❝tonight let’s start a masquerade, I’m coming over but nobody knows my little secret ❞

“the rising sensation, stardom, is adding yet another major endorsement to their growing portfolio, now becoming ambassadors for Sony. they’re set to release a special line of headphones with the iconic brand, already racking up over 100,000 pre-orders—and counting.”

a groan came from beside minji, drawing her amused gaze toward the source of irritation.

“we’re listening to the radio! since when did radio news start caring about stardom’s endorsements?” hanni muttered, rolling her eyes. “that’s not news.”

stardom's name had been everywhere lately, dominating headlines as they skyrocketed to fame.

“they’re still not bigger than us,” minji said, patting hanni’s shoulder as she adjusted her seatbelt. “so why does it matter?”

“they have their own sony headphones, minji.”

“ahh, they have it in purple ,” hyein murmured from the seat behind, eyes glued to her phone.

hanni shot her a sharp glare, haerin pinched her arm, and danielle threw her a disapproving look.

“sorry,” hyein mumbled, shrinking back.

“i just want one day where i don’t have to hear about them,” hanni sighed, her frustration clear as the other girls nodded in agreement. “it’s bad enough they’re performing tomorrow, too.”

“how about see them everywhere,” minji chuckled, gesturing out the window at a bus stopped next to their van. plastered along the side was an ad for pocari sweat, featuring stardom smiling brightly for yet another endorsement.

“ugh”

“rate how shady you think they’re gonna be tomorrow, out of ten ,” summer asked, turning to face the rest of the girls lounging in the back of the van, while eunjin quietly flipped through the pages of her book beside her.

“eight point five ,” yuri replied, lifting her head from yn’s shoulder, causing the van to erupt in laughter.

“I was gonna say nine, but I’m bumping it to ten,” hana chimed in, mischievously kicking the back of eunjin’s seat, sending the girl jolting forward. “i don’t trust that hyein girl. she’s always staring at me.”

“oh, you wanna talk about staring? let’s talk about their leader, who’s always staring at our leader,” yuri said, rolling her eyes. “sometimes, i feel like she’s just gonna jump and eat yn, it’s probably all that jealousy.”

yn playfully rolled her eyes at yuri’s comment. “i’ll go with a seven. that sunshine girl can’t do any harm,” she said, finally answering summer’s question.

“i dare them to say something slick,” summer added, turning back to the front with a smirk. “what do you think?” she nudged eunjin, who sighed in response.

all eyes shifted to eunjin—whenever she spoke, the girls paid attention. she didn’t say much, so when she did, they hung onto every word.

“jealousy is a nasty thing. it eats away at you. and they’ve definitely got it,” eunjin replied, calm and thoughtful. “so yeah, i’m with yuri—eight point five.”

a slow clap broke the silence. “bravo, the wise words of eunjin unnie,” yuri teased, making the others chuckle.

the sound of screams and clapping filled the air as minji watched stardom walk onto the stage to receive their award. both newjeans and stardom had been up for artist of the year in japan, and while everyone kind of knew stardom would win— even though it was just a year into their career the girls had been dominating asia—it didn’t stop the girls from feeling a bit salty

"at least we still have the western market," danielle muttered quietly, just loud enough for the girls to hear. they all watched as stardom struggled to start their speech over the deafening cheers and applause.

"they're probably coming for that too," hanni replied, trying to keep her face neutral, fully aware of the cameras trained on them. with the ongoing internet war between newjeans and stardom, their reactions would undoubtedly make headlines. "right, minji?"

hanni glanced at their leader, expecting a response, but minji was silent. her gaze was locked on the stage, fixed on stardom's leader, yn, who was the last to deliver her thank you. yn's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, like crystals catching the stage lights—so captivating, it was impossible to look away. yuri gently wrapped an arm around yn’s waist, offering quiet comfort, which caused minji to slightly clench her jaw, while the other members leaned in supportively as yn spoke.

"thank you to our fans, to everyone who's believed in us," yn's voice trembled slightly, thick with emotion. "we wouldn't be here without you. this award means the world to us... and we promise to keep working harder."

as she finished her speech, the cheers erupted again, louder than ever, but minji hardly noticed. she was still mesmerized, completely taken by yn’s beauty and the way she seemed to glow under the stage lights. hanni glanced at minji again and saw the way she stared, almost hypnotized by stardom's leader.

"dude, are you okay?" hanni asked, raising an eyebrow.

minji blinked, snapping out of her daze, her face suddenly flushing. "what—uh, yeah, i'm fine," she stammered, her voice a little too quick.

hanni narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced but chose to let it slide. "okay..." she mumbled, though her suspicion lingered as she turned back toward the stage. minji's weirdness wasn’t something she was going to ignore forever.

yn linked her arm with yuri’s as they strolled through the hallway, trying to track down their managers. “leave it to us to get lost,” she sighed, glancing around with a hint of amusement.

“who cares that we’re lost? we just won artist of the year! everybody celebrate!” hana exclaimed, jumping onto eunjin’s back, earning a startled yelp from the quieter girl.

"we’re going to a sushi restaurant and eating everything," yuri chimed in, her tone playful as she squeezed yn's arm.

the girls were so caught up in their laughter and excitement that they didn’t notice another group walking toward them from the opposite direction.

summer, still laughing at hana almost slipping off eunjin's back, wasn’t paying attention and kept walking backward—until she crashed into someone with a hard thud. the hallway suddenly fell silent as everyone froze.

“ow!”

“oh, i’m so sor—” summer started to apologize, but her words faltered the moment she realized who she’d bumped into. “—ry,” she finished awkwardly, eyes locking with hyein from newjeans.

hyein’s eyes flashed with recognition, but she quickly masked it, shrugging off summer’s apology as if it were nothing. her gaze briefly flickered to hana, who had slid off eunjin’s back under the weight of the tense moment, though she averted her eyes as hana shot her an icy glare.

hanni stepped forward, her expression hardening as she glared at the five girls. her eyes locked onto summer. “you should be sorry. maybe watch where you’re going. hyein’s already had an injury—we don’t need another.”

summer’s eyebrows shot up, clearly not liking the tone. she glanced behind her, almost in disbelief, as if confirming hanni had really spoken to her like that. a dry laugh escaped her lips as she shook her head. “i know you’re not serious—”

eunjin gently placed a hand on summer’s shoulder, a silent plea to drop it. “leave it alone.”

yn stepped in, her voice calm but firm. “summer unnie, just let it go.”

but hanni wasn’t done. “what? i was just reminding your member to watch where she’s going. what’s the problem?” she snapped back, the situation wasn’t serious but she couldn’t hold back her resentment towards the girl group so she used this as an opportunity.

hanni didn’t back down, her focus now shifting to yn. “maybe your leader can explain it, so you understand better.” she said coolly, her challenge clear.

yn did exactly what summer had done—looked behind herself in disbelief—before she took a step forward, but yuri’s arm quickly wrapped around her waist, pulling her back. "leave it.” yuri whispered, though yn’s eyes were still locked on hanni's, before switching to minji’s who looks away.

“you’re right.” yn said her voice calm, “they’re just bitter.” she says her eyes still on minji before walking straight past the rest of the group the rest of the girls following behind her.

“you two,” yuri muttered, shaking her head as she pointed at yn and summer, “need serious anger management.”

yn cursed under her breath as her phone buzzed softly, hoping it didn’t wake yuri, who was fast asleep beside her in the hotel bed. glancing at the screen, she saw the message

she looked at the message.

“I’m near your hotel.”

she sighed quietly, running a hand through her hair before carefully sliding out of bed, moving cautiously so as not to disturb hana, who was sprawled out in a starfish position on the other bed.

with a quick glance around to make sure no one stirred, yn slipped out of the hotel room as quietly as possible and made her way down to the street outside, her heart racing with anticipation.

"hey."

minji looked up from her phone to find yn standing in front of her, a juicy couture cap pulled low over her head. minji couldn’t help but smile. "hey."

"you texted," yn said softly, her eyes scanning minji's face as if searching for something.

"i did."

"so..."

"i missed you," minji admitted, gently pulling yn closer by the arm. yn’s eyes dropped, her cheeks flushing as she looked away, clearly flustered.

"same," yn mumbled, clearly embarrassed. after a pause, she added, "your member really wanted to pick a fight today, huh?"

minji groaned, rolling her eyes as she tugged yn even closer, until there was almost no space left between them. "yeah..." she trailed off, unsure what to say. it wasn’t like she fully agreed with her group's dislike toward stardom, but she understood the frustration. stardom had come out of nowhere, sweeping up all the attention.

"let’s not talk about that," minji murmured, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the gold “s” necklace hanging around yn's neck. all of the stardom girls had one, each in either silver or gold.

minji’s tone shifted as she changed the subject. "there’s this 24 hour ramen place..." she started, watching as a smile slowly spread across yn’s face. "if you want to…"

"of course i do," yn replied, her smile now fully blooming, the tension between them melting away.

[authorhjk1]

If you don’t mind, can you tell me how does each member of SNSD suck dick? Also give a very brief description of how they each of them do it. OT9 of course, please and thank you

I like this one. Feel free to send more ideas like this. (Poll at the end, so please make sure you check out the end)

Taeyeon

Taeyeon is very proud of how good her skin looks despite her age. She loves to kneel in front of you, while you are standing. She would always start by lying your cock in the middle of her face, marveling at how big it looks from below. She loves to worship it too. Giving you small, gentle kisses, while letting you enjoy the smoothness of her skin. She would almost never use her hands, taking pride in only needing her gorgeous face and her mouth to make you cum. And when you do, she loves to get her face painted. She is convinced that your cum is part of the reason, why her skin looks so good.

She is more gentle and loving all around.

Jessica

I have to say, that I'm not that familiar with Jessica. But I do think, that she is more like a princess, so her blowjobs would be similar to Taeyeon's and Yuri's. Mostly soft and caring. I think she would like it, when you tell her how well she is sucking you off. A little praise here and there, and Jessica doubles her efforts.

She also loves it, when you cum on her face. In fact, she always takes a selfie of herself after every facial. You can't even count how many pictures she has on her computer. Every single one of them are her, her face painted with your cum.

Sunny

I honestly think that Sunny isn't a big fan of blowjobs. If you ask her, she would give you one. But, usually she would only see it as quick foreplay, not a standalone act. And I doubt she would like to receive facials. Not sure about swallowing though.

But, all that being said, if she really loves you and you ask for it, I'm sure that Sunny wouldn't even complain about it. If she did it often enough, she might start actually liking it.

Tiffany

While Taeyeon is very proud of her skin and facial features, Tiffany likes her own lips the most. And she likes to see your cock completely covered in her lipstick, after a great blowjob. She always carries one or two of them around in her purse, just in case the two of you are down for some fun while being outside the house. She has so many different shades and colours of lipsticks, her collection is probably more expensive than your car. Dark red, pink, black and the last one she bought, one with glitter, just to name a few. But the very first thought on Tiffany's mind, when she buys a new one, is how it would look, smeared on your cock.

And when a store does offer samples, the two of you quickly disappear for a while to "test out the product in advance".

After a sloppy and rough blowjob, Tiffany almost likes the sight of her lips and corners of her mouth smeared with her lipstick just as much as the sight of it on your cock.

Hyoyeon

Hyoyeon is a combination of Yoona and Sooyoung. It depends on her mood. Sometimes, she loves it when you're rough with her, using her mouth like a toy. And on other days, she likes to be the one in control.

Her blowjobs are usually messy, no matter who's in charge. Her spit would always be everywhere. Your cock, her lips, chin and thighs, when she is kneeling. Nothing is off limits to you in regards to where you want to cum.

Yuri

Yuri is quite similar to Taeyeon, when it comes to her body, especially her face and skin. She loves to take care of herself, which means that most of your days end with you, covering every inch of her face with your cum.

But compared to Taeyeon, Yuri likes it a little rougher. On the days when she is really horny, she lets you use her mouth however you like as long as you reward her with your cum. But most of the time, she likes to suck you off, while you eat her out. It's a win win for the both of you.

Sooyoung

The main reason Sooyoung likes to give blowjobs, is the power she has over you, while she is giving you one. She likes to watch your face twitch with pleasure, while she tries something new every time. It always the same thing that finishes you though. Sooyoung, staring at you, demanding that you cum for her. Doesn't matter where you are. In your car, at home, in a dressing room at the mall, Sooyoung loves to count down from ten, once she senses that you're close. Just before you blow your load, she tells you exactly where she wants it.

Yoona

Yoona loves to get used. She prefers it, when you gently stroke her hair and slowly lean her head against an unforgiving surface. A wall, the edge of a bed, or the mirror in the practice room at SM, you name it. You would then slowly slide your cock into her mouth, telling her how pretty she looks like that. And once you start fucking her face, Yoona would moan around your cock in delight. She would do anything to make you feel good, while you basically nail her head against the hard surface behind her.

(Might be slightly inspired by her colors chapter, although I only realized after writing this that it actually matches)

Seohyun

Seohyun is usually too shy to ask for anything intimate. When she does want your cock, she would just rest her head on you lap, while watching a movie, and accidentally brush against your crotch. Or she would just wait for you to initiate something on your own.

I can see Seohyun as someone who has a breeding kink. She would love it, when you squeeze her waist during sex, while you pump your cum into her. And it even shows during her blowjobs. Or rather after. Because she would always make you blow inside her mouth. Then she would spit it out, into her hand, before moving it towards her pussy. She would finger herself, stuffing your cum deeper and deeper into her belly.

Now for the poll.

I originally planned on writing a series with SNSD. But thanks to one of you guys, I now have ideas and plots for at least two series.

So here it goes:

Hope you guys are having a good day. Don't forget that there is also a link at the top of my blog currently, so you guys can vote, if you want me to focus on a couple of request, like commissions, or not.

Stay healthy!

[eightyonekilograms]

Ladies and gentlemen, I've uncovered the shocking truth, and I have to tell you about it right now! Tumblr, that bastion of degeneracy, they used to be all about yaoi – everywhere you looked, yaoi this, yaoi that, everything was dudes kissing. But now, it's all yuri! Everything is yuri! Yuri as far as the eye can see! And do you know why this is happening? It's because of the plastics in the water! That's right, folks, the globalists have been poisoning our water supply with plastics, and it's turning our precious internet culture upside down!

[nimpnawakproduction]

The ultimate reference sheets for all of Vash's outfits in Trigun maximum (with commentaries)

IT IS DONE. I'M FREE. Now I can forget all about Trimax and draw Trigun stampede designs only hahaha (just kidding I have things for Trimax on the stove).

Trigun bookclub was an awesome initiative, I loved the manga with my all heart and wanted to honor Nightow's designs ;w; I also wanted to help my fellow artists with references for Vash's clothes because DEAR GOD it's difficult to understand how the hell he dresses himself in the morning. I have a lot of fun dressing and undressing him like a barbie doll. My hyperfixation is completely healthy.

I put a "read more" section to avoid spoilers :) !

The July coat

The very first coat in Trigun chronology and the one he wores during the destruction of July ! There is not a lot of panels to take references but I tried to stay as close as possible to the manga. I don't know what number of prosthesis he had before but let name this one Prosthesis 1.

Scars map

Next, nakey Vash ! There's A LOT of changes between one panel to another. Scars changes places and forms panel to panel and the design evolved from the first chapters of Trigun, the time we see him naked as Eriks and his undressed state while he was a prisoner on the Ark. I drew the scars that appeared more than once or were in clean view in a panel (but really you can do like Nightow and draw as many scars as you want without thinking about consistency, this boy has been in a meat grinder)

After July underclothes

Or the jumpsuit that gave me grey hair. His suit does not make ANY sense, I don't know how the hell he dresses himself in the morning with this. My solution is that it's very long gloves and chaps strapped to a belt. The position and shapes of the belts changes IN EVERY PANEL. Same for his knee guards, sometimes they're here, sometime they cover his shins, sometimes they are tiny..... I gave up in the end and draw them as we see them in the very last panel he wears this suit. But damn he looks good in it.

Also in all of the 13 volumes, there is not a single panel with a clear view of his holster (I checked...) so here is my interpretation.

This is prosthesis n°2, the design is a little different from the first one so I guess Prosthesis 1 got destroyed (this happens a lot).

After July coat

The very first Trigun coat he wears in the manga ! Very simple, very basic, it gives him impossibly wide shoulders but Vash deserves it. The first one is worn Post July until Vash's confrontation against Brilliant Dynamite Neon. The second one is the state of his coat after the sandsteamer incident. He loses his prothesis after his fight against Monev the gale. He meets Wolfwood with only one arm and stays that way while he fights Knives for the first time.

Eriks

I took liberties with colors because there's no colored panels with Vash as Eriks. Yes I drew him without suspenders because he has them for like 5 panels and then Nightow drew him without them for the rest of Eriks arc so I made choices ;w;

I love the fact that Vash choose to wear tight jeans even in his casual outfits, this boy will not let his skin breath. This is now Prosthesis 3 ! It's way less advanced than the ones he wore in the rest of the manga, the other ones seem to replicate skin.

After his years as Eriks

And now the first Maximum coat, he wears it until the famous Yuri hospital arc! Finally an undersuit that makes sense, I love it, too bad Nightow-san decided that I had to suffer and changed it again to add BELTS EVERYWHERE. We only see his legs in this part of the manga so I gave him the same top because I can.

The tubes he has on his waist are filled with bullets, he can connect them to his prosthesis to have a mini machine gun.

We are now at Prosthesis 4 !

Hospitalization on the Home ship

The famous Yuri hospital phase! Vash definitely shared his wardrobe with Wolfwood, you can't tell me otherwise.

The first outfit still shows Prothesis 4 but he keeps it for like 5 minutes and lost it again against Nine-lives. I don't really know if the prothesis comes with the integrated glove or if there's synthetic skin under it but why would he keep the glove on if it's not intergrated?

The second pictures is the different outfits he wears during his convalescence. I took liberties with the colors, I drew this in like 10 minutes, everything seems easy when you don't have to draw BELTS. We are now on Prothesis 5 ! Nightow drew it as a regular arm so I guess Vash wears gloves on top of it??????

Back on the road in pursuit of Knives

He wears this one after his stay at Home, throughout the Dragon's nest ark and until his 2nd fight against Knives.

I liked the design of his jumpsuit until I looked closer at the panels and saw that the design change ON EVERY ONE OF THEM. Knee guard on only one knee? No kneeguards? Two??? WHO KNOWS ??? I tried to make it work but really go wild with this one, even the author does not know how his pant looks.

Still prosthesis 5, BUT UNTIL WHEN?

Prisoner on the Ark

THEY MASSACRED MY BOY. Did they even feed him at least in 7 months? Those pictures are the definition of the drenched kitty cat left under the rain. Give this man a blanket and a therapist.

Bye bye Prothesis 5 ! And see what I mean when I say that his outfit does not make sense????? It comes out in parts????

After his imprisonment on the Ark

The last suit in the manga! He keeps this coat until the end of the story. From this point, only his hair changes (or the color of his coat).

I adore the little angel wing symbol on his left arm, such a cute addition. Too bad it appears in one of the most traumatic event of his life.

Speaking of his jumpsuit...The return of belts.... But at least this outfit stays relatively coherent except for his kneeguards who appear and disappear panel from panel but most of the time he doesn't have any, so no kneeguard it is. Prosthesis 6 hello !

Final battle and end of the story

It hurted to drew those outfits ;w; And working on the design of his coat when he fights Legato made me realize where Orange studio took inspiration to chose the colors for Vash's coat in the final episode of Stampede ! Great job ! I tried to color the same effects as one of the illustrations showing dark Vash but I'm not really good with colors..... He actually radiates energy but with some purple undertones, I took some liberties because those are my drawings I do what I want.

I'm not sure at 100% that he has a tuft of blond hair left when his outfit turns black but his hair is all black at the end of the fight. His prosthesis is destroyed at the end of the fight. He got another one in the final chapter. So 7 prosthesis throughout the story!

[smutoperator]

Hi. There are many different ways people prefer to have sex. Some people may not do it often, but they may do it dozens of times at a time. Some may do it once a day as a daily routine. Some may not do it every day, but they do it every time they meet. Some may prefer a quickie, while others may prefer a long session. Some may enjoy the risk of being caught in a public place, while others may enjoy sex in a place where their privacy is completely protected. Considering all this, how often, where, and how do each member of Girls’ Generation prefer to have sex in a week?

Taeyeon: likes daily sex in private places and long sessions but many times can't have it due to her routine. Loves to use her off-days to compensate having long orgies with multiple guys.

Jessica (former): doesn't do it every day and most sessions are short and private. Has largely adhered to a housewife type lifestyle with her longtime BF.

Sunny: due to her bad knee, sex is very rare these days for her. She usually takes it slow and does it in private. Sessions quite short nowadays with her enjoying more breast play than penetration properly.

Tiffany: an enthusiast of daily sex as a workout routine. Has a slight inclination towards public fucking and rough quickies but doesn't mind any type of sex, as long as you're fucking her good, it's fine.

Hyoyeon: known club freak, likes to go out at night and fuck completely unknown guys. Bathroom quickies are very much her specialty. In fact her DJ career is just a cover-up for those sex adventures.

Yuri: likes to have sex everywhere except her house: the pool, the gym, during yoga classes, you name it. Also does it on a daily basis as a workout. Then it's up for how long you can last. Best way is to find where she does her daily exercises and hit her up, she's quite straightforward.

Sooyoung: widely known in acting cycles as a sex freak. Very private but does it every day be it with her partner, on sexcapades or threesomes/orgies involving her partner. Likes long sessions.

YoonA: has become a massive free use enthusiast. Usually likes young studs that can fuck her rough in one of her many houses. Charges one of the most expensive fees in the whole country but guys pay it anyway, then look at their bank account fully red and make her pay with a hard pounding.

Seohyun: being called the baby maknae all those years made her try to prove otherwise the hardest. A big femdom enthusiast, invites guys on a daily basis either to her house or to secret club performances, dominating and edging them for as many hours as she wants.

[hereisrachel]

Mw3!Makarov x reader dating headcanons

Tws : Nsfw version below the sfw one.

Sfw >

He is way gentler than og Makarov.

Makarov's is more likely to taunt and threaten you than get violent.

Since he wouldn't give two shits about you if he has no deeper connection with you, let's say for the sake of the fic that you were his friend from early childhood or sum

He deeply cared for you since you were a part of his life, platonic or not, he was very protective of you.

(Assuming that his lore wasn't changed) He obviously dragged you into the whole terrorist thing. Living in soviet union times when you both were growing up, you just saw it as something good. So you joined him.

You'd also be friend with Yuri since you know Makarov.

He wouldn't get violent towards you, as his friend and ally, you always agreed with him.

You just did everything he told you, it was enough.

Back to protectiveness, it may be probably the only way he shows affection. He'd touch your cheek gently or play with your hair, but it would be at times when he needs to act good so he can manipulate you.

He knew you since you were a kid, he knew your fears, how to make you do something, how to have you in pocket.

You would probably never notice him manipulating you. "It's for your own good" he would always say, and you believed him.

Since you were a soldier, he was really torn between locking you up and sending you to missions.

He just figured that having you on missions and having you in the field of view, he would be with you everywhere. If someone sees you without him, they're probably about to die, since he is hiding somewhere, waiting to strike if you get too close.

It's hard to call your relationship with him somehow, he treats you like a sister, friend, he loves you very much. But you're not his lover. But you two care about each other, that's all that matters.

His feelings will become more romantic as he starts to get attracted not only to your personality but also your body.

You'd catch yourself thinking about him in sexual manner before he did.

Maybe this is why you were following him so much?

He was an attractive man, and most likely the only one you've met closer in your whole life.

You loved how differently he acted with you and other people. It seemed like there was no differences but you could see it.

How is eyes are soft when he is not talking about murder, how he makes sure you're beside him, if you slept well, if you're not injuried.

You honestly couldn't tell how your first kiss looked like. It just kind of happened?

He was talking to you in the evening, alone, looking deeply into your eyes as he usually did.

You were looking into his eyes longer than he spoke, not saying anything this time.

You glanced at his lips and he smiled gently, you leaned in, closing your eyes and softly kissed his lips.

Yeah basically that.

You both didn't talk about it at all (since your communication is on high level ☠️), it just became a daily thing ig.

He loved touching you, he often hugged you because you loved hugs especially from him. He felt proud that you officialy belonged to him now.

(Nsfw version starts here)

Makarov is not the typa of guy to rush anything but he is not holding back either. He wouldn't initiate sex on the beggining, but later on if he has a needs and he has you now, he will try to smash lmfao

He liked being dominant and don't get me wrong, he likes seeing you in the lead and intimidating other people, being the dominant one overall, but not with him. If you have no interests of dominating him, he'll be flattered that he's the only one you submit to.

He doesn't have a high sex drive, it's usually you initiating it, but he's down whenever you want it anyways.

Pretty much Vanilla, gives you oral, you give him oral, he likes to have you on his desk thought but besides it his fav thing is bedroom and missionary position.

Nothing much more to say on that. He is a casual dude, he has not much sex on mind, murder mostly.

[k0yaz]

UGGHHHH hear me out on toxic Yuri with acheron or Topaz like for Topaz it might be a little hard to see but basically she entered the IPC for her own survival. in a voiceline she said "my survival mattered more than my freedom" and as sad as that sounds, imagine her sweetheart (non binary idk preferably female) is back on her planet and her family was killed by the IPC and she can't stand the sight of Topaz anymore because in their eyes Topaz is a traitor for joining the IPC and they're this sad gay couple anyone would cry and throw up at the sight of like this big sloppy mess.

For acheron, I think we can have like acheron travelling and reader crashing into her no matter whag planet who are at each other's throats all the time (one-sided because Ion think acheron would gaf) but reader hates acheron and acheron doesn't go slicey slicey on reader because she wants to keep them around. idk maybe she gets amusement seeing their hateful eyes.

This isn't even toxic Yuri but I BEG YOU WHAHHWHWHHA

ignore this if your uncomfortable lol

I can’t.

Pairing(s): acheron x fem!reader

CW: mostly js hating and stuff, potential hate love relationship idk im just bullshitting warnings to fill this space, oh and Acheron lowkey scares reader by almost going slicey slicey but she doesn’t even notice it lol

A/N: someone get her google maps anyway I love acheron sm swawswwjsjsjs

Your muscles tensed up as a familiar face entered your view, her deadpan eyes locking onto you the moment she saw you. Using your free hand, you drew your hand to your eyes, attempting to shield the side of your head and avert your gaze from the Galaxy Ranger.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The woman you despise deeply, the one you couldn’t escape no matter where you went.

Who else would it be? None other than Acheron herself.

Without hesitation, you found yourself furiously making your way to her, and your face scrunched up at the sight of her. Acheron stared back at you, her gaze hollow and emotionless as if she was waiting for you to say something. God. That stupid, unfeeling look ticked you off so damn much.

“What the hell are you doing here? Did you get lost looking for your hotel room again?”

You snapped at her, face flushed from how irritated you were upon seeing her again.

Acheron only let out a sigh in response, closing her eyes briefly before resting a hand on her hip.

“I was just minding my own business. I don’t understand what got you so irritated. Do you seriously hate me so much that you have to yell at me when you see me?”

Her tone was nonchalant and insouciant, which pissed you off even more. Why wasn’t she bothered at all? Why wasn’t she matching your energy and at your throat too? The fact that she didn’t exactly care about how much you hated her just made your blood boil, it made you feel so small and petty every damn time. Without thinking, you spat at her again, this time your words more harsh as if they had been laced with poison.

“Well why do you have to be everywhere, huh?! Every time I hope to get away from you I can’t! So why? Are you following me or some shit?!” you almost near yelled, brows furrowing and your eyelids lowering slightly.

You slam a fist onto Acheron’s shoulder, jabbing it slightly as you stare down.

You shouldn’t haves done that.

Your eyes widened, and you felt your stomach tighten as your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes trailed down to the end of her hair, heart pounding in your chest from fear as you saw a small fade of white at the tips.

It was barely there, almost not at all, yet you saw it. No doubt.

That alone made you remember, no matter how much you hated her, she was still an emanator of nihility. She could slice you apart and turn you into nothing but a memory if she wanted to.

However when you looked up, you ended up jumping back and away a good 4 feet from her stunned at what you saw.

Was Acheron- smiling a bit?

Your scornful gaze was still glued to your face as you stared her down, confused as to why she smiled for a moment and why she didn’t just kill you on the spot.

“I don’t hate you, hope you know that. But it’s…slightly entertaining to see your expression.”

She paused, taking a moment to think up of something else she wanted to say.

“And I’d prefer to keep you around, honestly.”

Acheron remarked, turning her back to you as she walked away and out of your sight. You still stared off into the distance with a puzzled expression, before running your hand through your hair and closing your eyes.

What- just happened?

traitor.

Pairing(s): topaz x fem!reader

CW: tragic lovers obviously, reader losing her shit, topaz gets fucking slapped lol idk what else to put here I hope yall know on sfw works there’s usually no warnings, um screaming crying throwing up idk gay ppl wowowow

A/N: meowmoew

“I’m sorry I-“

“stop. Just…stop. Okay..?”

You snapped, bringing your hand to crease your forehead and lowering your fingers down to the bridge of your nose near the corners of your eyes. Topaz could only stare back at you with a dejected expression while averting her gaze shamefully.

“It was for my survival…my love, please. I didn’t mean-“

You cut her off again, fighting back the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. You choked back a sob as you spoke in a pained voice.

“And yet you still joined the IPC? Did you even think to consider how I would feel?”

A quiet sob escaped your lips as your breath hitched and got in your throat. Within moments tears were flowing down your face, crying uncontrollably with your teeth pressed together and small hiccups spilling out as you buried your face into your hands.

“…you didn’t have to see the bodies of your family, knowing that your lover is the reason for it.”

Topaz could only watch, heartbroken by your sorrow—and it was all because of her. She reached out, attempting to place a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t touch me! You fucking traitor!”

You yelled, breathing heavily from your sobbing, along with your nose being tinted red and the dried tear cracks down your face being run over by new tears.

Your hands balled up into fists as Topaz stared down at the ground shamefully, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth as to not cry herself.

“(Name). Please. Let me explain.”

She breathed out, trying to keep her own composure. She stepped forward, placing her hands on either side of your head, her thumb brushing along your cheek.

“You have to understand…my survival mattered more than my freedom-“

A slap echoed throughout the vicinity all of a sudden. Topaz stumbled back, the hand that was placed on your cheek now shifted over to her own, grasping her reddening skin. Her eyes widened for several seconds as she processed what happened, breathing quickening slightly. Her own beloved just slapped her.

It was obvious now. You didn’t want anything to do with her anymore.

Topaz quickly recovered from the slap and sighed, her cheek still a blistering red. She stepped forward, cupping your face again and placing her forehead against yours. She grasped your head firmly, fingers tightening as she tried fighting back her own tears.

“I get it. I’m a traitor. But I’m not a traitor when it comes to us, just know that before you go. I still love you.”

She sighed, pressing herself against you more until your noses were touching, and closing her eyes. You could only gasp from the sobs clawing at your throat in response, barely able to form a coherent sentence until Topaz walked away.

You fell to your knees when she was gone, being able to do nothing but cry. And just like that. The love of your life was gone. You wanted nothing to do with her. The pangs of regret ate away at you as you wanted nothing more than to just forgive her and lay in her arms as you mourned your family.

You still loved her. So much.

But you just couldn’t.

You couldn’t be with a traitor.

A/N: AGAGAGAGSGA UR AN ANGEL FOR SEEING MY POST COMPLAINING ABOUT NOT GETTING WLW OR HSR RAHAHAHAHBDBDBDBD

anyway I have my final tomorrow goodbye yall I’m going back to the dead

@qwnelisa

[rvp32]

Headcannon girl generations x younger boyfriend smut please with mommy kink

Taeyeon

Knows you have a mommy kink and uses it to her full advantage, She not only commands you in the bedroom but also outside, the tone she uses makes you fold within seconds.

Would love to tease you anywhere and everywhere possible.

Make you worship every single nook and cranny of her body, so much so that you are able to memorize it.

Loves to control your orgasm, edging you sometimes and other times overstimulating you to the point of your mind going blank.

Loves you and will praise you every time you do what she tells you to and will absolutely spoil you rotten, a huge sugar mommy. "Don't you want to make mommy proud pretty boy."

Jessica

She is surprised when she finds out about your mommy's kink but slowly starts to enjoy it. She found out when you guys were having sex and as you were about to cum you moaned "Fuck, I am going to cum inside you mommy!"

Enjoys teasing you but only privately, she doesn't let anyone else know about your cute little kink.

She enjoys the control in the bedroom a lot, making you do things that you normally would not.

Likes to spank you, tie you up, and make you beg.

Kinda enjoys it when you cry it makes her more horny.

Doesn't show much emotion but she loves you to death, would fight anyone and kill anyone if they ever make you cry.

Sunny

Secretly knew from the beginning that you had a mommy kink, found out about it when she was trying to look up something on your phone. Found it super hot and wanted to tease you with this knowledge.

Will play with your cock and tease it to the point you beg her to let you cum, but she wants you to tease you so much that you end up spilling your mommy kink.

While having sex, she will ride you and put her boobs in your mouth and make you suck them.

After you do not budge she does one last thing to make it obvious that she knows, she makes you lie on her lap and places her boobs in your face commanding you to suck on them while she jerks you off.

Loves to show off her body knowing very well how shy you get when you see even a little cleavage from Summy and teases you when no one is looking

Hyoyeon

One day you build up the courage and tell her, she takes it pretty well but is a little confused. Her goofy ass would make you do chores just to make fun of your mommy kink, but once in bed, she tries her best to make you enjoy sex.

Likes to tie you up and torture you by slowly deriving you of your sense to see. playing with temperature, ice cubes on your body and cock.

She Loves it when you scream as hot wax drips on your body. encourages you to scream even more but if you are getting too loud she sits on your face to shut you up.

She enjoys humiliating you, for example, she would make fun of how fast you cum even though she made you cum that fast by putting the vibrator on its highest setting.

Yuri

Found out when you were drunk and ended up calling her mommy every time you touched her and were extremely submissive to her. She found it extremely cute, how you would play with her hair, and always rest your head on her thighs and have her pat your head. You also loved being an absolute baby around her, whining when she had to leave for filming, and begging for attention when she was on set. but overall Yuri enjoyed every little bit of your actions always encouraging you to be your true self. When it comes to sex:

The sex between Yuri and you is super passionate, she always worships your body and only allows you to call her mommy, or anything else and mommy will get angry.

You are super easy to control, all she has to do is deny any sort of physical contact with you and you will fold, agreeing to do anything with her.

A lot of praising and guiding, you are kinda of sloppy when it comes to sex with her, because you basically shut your brain. After all, she is always telling you what to do.

When you get extra clingy and rude, she also punishes you but not the harsh kind because she cannot see you cry it would drive her off the rails. She would give you punishments like masturbating in front of her. or cleaning the house wearing a sexy maid outfit.

Sooyoung

You both have feelings for each other but never started dating, everyone knows that you two like each other and both of you spend every waking hour in each other's presence and even have sex with each other. So Sooyoung was extremely shocked to find out about your kink, she found out when she caught you jerking off to the pics you took during her performance and were moaning out "Mommy,"

She absolutely loves to tease you and it has been like that since the day you met each other. So when she found out about your mommy kink, know for a fact that she had a field day with it by always saying things like, "Do you want mommy to buy that for you?" or "Do you want mommy to help you shower little baby?" Though she said it to tease you, it turned you on but you would never in your right mind tell her that.

When having sex, she always likes being on top, saying things like "Mommy should always be in control because pretty boys like you cannot handle so much work"

Loves to watch you beg, it is entertainment for her, she likes to tease you by edging you, when you guys are having sex just when you are about to cum, she will stop completely and wait until orgasm basically disappears and goes again. Your cum is hers and nobody else's not even yours,

She is a hardcore voyeur so whoever you are out together, she finds new and creative ways to explore and this gets you hard like no other but you aren't allowed to touch yourself at all, only there to film and take pics for her. She is the type to tie you up and masturbate in front of you cumming multiple times and then untying you and cuddling you to sleep completely blue balling you.

Im Yoona

Though she might have the looks of an angel, she has the desires of a devil. In fact, your mommy kink developed because of her, she is the one who had you call her mommy. Initially, it was super embarrassing but soon it became natural. She loves you, love isn't even the best word to describe her feelings for you, she is obsessed with you. So possessive, and hates to see you talking to any girl other than her!

She likes to show everyone that you belong to her, so be ready to have tonnes of hickeys all over your body, especially your neck. She also scratches when she is about to cum so you will definitely have those on your hands and back.

Has an actual breeding kink and wants you to make her an actual mommy. loves the feeling of creampies and begs for them. Though she looks calm once she has set her mind on something it will happen.

Loves being worshipped by you so every time you guys meet, you will end up eating her pussy or ass till she is satisfied with you. She also knows how obsessed you are with her and she knows that you will do anything she wants because you love to please her. Has an armpit kink, likes to have her armpits licked and you like to lick them especially when they are sweaty after practice and gym.

Loves to give and receive praise, so be ready to be showered in love every single day with her, you will wake up to a tonne of lovely messages, and she also loves to cook for you. Will make cookies, and multiple dishes just to watch you enjoy eating them.

Expect a ton of cuddling as well she is super clingy and will not let you go, she even created a new position in her staff to have you around her all the time. Kisses on the cheek, forehead, and nose are super common. When you are with her there won't be a single second where you question her feelings for you. "Come here and give mommy a kiss baby boy."

Seohyun

She was super shocked when you told her that you had a mommy kink, she always thought you were innocent and didn't have any kinks at all but she soon leaned into her role of playing your mommy. She took the role literally in her daily life and also sex life.

She would make you do things to improve yourself in general, she always wants what is best for you and would stop you and guide you if you were doing something you shouldn't be

She finds certain things very hot, like when you are concentrating and focusing on something, there are times she doesn't disturb you but there are also times when her body gets the best of her mind and she says things like "Mommy's bored, put that book down and come entertain me baby."

She likes giving you tasks, like reading a book or watching a show while she is jerking you off, "Stop moving so much baby, you are distracting me from the movie," if you are able to handle her handjob and behave she says things like, "you have earned a reward baby choose what you want and mommy will give it to you."

She has huge motherly feelings for you and loves it when you act like a baby around her. She loves to have you sitting on her lap facing her with your legs locked behind her back and head nestled in her neck.

[cephalopolis-life]

I think one thing worth mentioning is that Suletta and Miorine's CLEAR and EXPLICIT marriage is actually a big deal. Do you want a yuri kiss? Thats not as rare asyou would think, but a Gundam show with a happy ending, an explicit romance, and a marriage?! have you tried to look for Yuri where they get married?

The representation we want in the west might not be the representation needd everywhere.

They get MARRIED, they got the Gunadam Kiss™, they got to be into each other, supporitng each other, and caring for each other the WHOLE TIME. Their relationship was certral to all the political intrigue that the show was based around. This wasnt a romance show, this was a giant robot action anime and their relationship HAPPENED to be queer. If we saw this with a straight couple we would have seen a different reacion, but it would bee seen as valid.

I think this ending had so much to give- it seems like a shame people are discarding it because it wasn't what they thought would be ideal….

[danieyells]

After Hotaburi's chapter i was very curious about Zenji voicelines! Can i ask for them, please?

@yuri-is-online YOU DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT OVERWHELMING ME although I appreciate the concern!! If I get overwhelmed or need a break I just put it aside until I'm ready or have the time and energy and attention span or ideas if necessary haha so no need to worry there 'u' (Also. . .good luck with those fics lolol)

ZENJI IS OUR LAST BOI. Until we get Ed and Lyca anyway. Which will honestly probably be in like. A week or two. Possibly less. I had my suspicions when I first read his that he was a ghost lol knowing he is. . .it gives them a little different feeling I guess haha.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Why, hello there, my dear. Suppose we kick off another swanky day here?"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Come now, read those messages out, won't you? They're fan letters for me, aren't they? ...They're not?"

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"You want to know the meaning of my words? I see— I'll have to give you a lecture on romanticism."

"What's this? Well, it's a biwa, of course. It's a biwa just as you are yourself."

what does that mean tho. . .i mean i get what it means but also it feels like it must mean something. . . .

"Girls, be ambitious... Dream big, my dear."

proud women enjoyer zenji kotodama

"A man who's everywhere but can be found nowhere... That's what it means to be an inspired man of the quill."

i think that's just what it means to be a ghost bby. . . . . . . . . . .

"Heh. There's no doubt about it. Zenji Kotodama is once again the most styling man on campus. These glad rags are the cat's pajamas."

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Come now, let's depart in search of something sensational."

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Oh, have you come to see me? This is troubling. I'm afraid I'm out of autographs."

where have you been distributing them. . .?

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"What am I doing here? ...I'm people-watching."

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Ordinarily I ask for write-ins for my advice salon on the World Wide Web...but tonight, I'm taking it out into the field."

i wonder if he's waiting to encounter people who'll be able to see and hear him or if he's just like. . .genuinely ignoring/forgetting/disregarding that he isn't seen or heard. . .or maybe he was ignored a lot in his lifetime too so he doesn't question that people don't respond. . . .

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"The moon is beautiful... I always look forward to passing the hours in conversation with you and Towa on nights like these."

i thought you didn't hang around jabberwock after dark because the dark was dangerous tho. . .maybe if the moon is big and bright he doesn't mind because it's not as dark lolol

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"My folktale videos? I filmed them at Haku's behest, but I can't imagine these old things will capture my fans' hearts..."

based on that the Urashima Taro video has his voice in it but his character story recording doesn't have him or his voice in it(and Haku deliberately tries to make the background interesting because he knows it'll only be the background and biwa sounds,) I think his voice can be recorded but if he's visibly in the recording it won't be captured? That or Haku has recording equipment that can capture ghost voices, but not images???

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"It truly is the age of YouTube. Can you fathom the romance of my artistry spreading to all four corners of the globe?"

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Every tool has its own knack you've got to acquire to use it properly. Behold— my mastery with a fishing pole!"

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"This doll here is special. The moment I met him I felt a destiny such that I knew we couldn't be strangers."

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Oh, I didn't mean to give you a fright... I ought to have expected this. A sudden brush with an inspired man of the quill would take anyone's breath away."

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"Have you got any siblings, my dear? Why no, I don't mean anything by it. Just a little morning conversation."

i can imagine him looking fondly at his doll as he says he doesn't mean anything by it. His sibling isn't one of the most important things in the world to him or anything. He's just making conversation. btw in Japanese he says "morning talk" which sounds an awful lot like "pillow talk" to me and idk how many people would be comfortable discussing their siblings after the deed--

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Are you going to Mortkranken, my dear? ...I see. No, I don't mean anything by it. Are you hurt? I hope you'll take care."

so while it makes sense for Zenji to ask this as he is noted in his profile to be a worrywart, not to mention he died on campus, but also. . .y'know, his brother lives there.

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Apparently my footsteps give the general students the heebie-jeebies..."

In Japanese it does clarify that he moves without the sound of footsteps at all because the general students freak out hearing his footsteps since they can't see him

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"A swanky morning calls for a swanky breakfast, and some swanky radio calisthenics."

apparently radio calisthenics are still pretty popular in japan. in any case man are you sure you died like a year ago you sound so old

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"Why, Subaru hasn't risen yet. Go ahead and wake him, won't you, my dear? I'll accompany your efforts from here with my biwa."

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"A burst of inspiration has taken hold of me... No. The ghost of artistry has possessed my soul!"

okay well be careful with ghosts taking over your soul you don't have a ton left if you lose that--

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"To be a Darkwick student is to greet danger as an old friend... But I hope that Haku and Subaru have a long life ahead of them."

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Zenji Kotodama is a wonderful name, don't you think? A sensational name befitting of my sensational sensibilities."

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Trouble sleeping? Then I'll read you a story. How about Urashima Taro?"

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"I was standing by your pillow last night? Horsefeathers, I'd never. I was there the night before last."

BABY I DON'T THINK THAT'S BETTER. YOU ARE STILL WATCHING THEM SLEEP. WHAT ELSE DO YOU WATCH THEM DO.

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Go ahead and eat. No, don't give me another thought—I'm on a diet, you see. Watching you is enough food for my soul."

you see why i suspected initially that he didn't know he was dead? can you eat at all buddy?? i don't think it's a diet if you've lost the ability to consume food. . . .

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Haku's busy today—film me in his stead, won't you?"

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I've got a little story about a hapless fool of a man... I'm sure it's hardly worth listening to. I wonder if I'll ever get the chance to share it with you?"

the true stories seem like the ones he wants to avoid. . .'a hapless fool of a man's story that isn't worth listening to but i'd still like to share' sounds an awful lot like it must be about him and his life. . . . In Japanese he says 「救いようのない、馬鹿な男の物語さ」 "it's the story of an irredeemable/hopeless, stupid man.". . .who did you hurt, Zenji?

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"To be able to look into your eyes and bid you good night... I'm the luckiest fella for miles around."

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"Maybe we did meet too late. But it's all right. I promise I'll find you in the next life."

but. . .but we have this life. . .although this is one of the few acknowledgements he really gives of his own ghostly nature. He wants to be able to live with you. To be tangibly there for you, to touch you and support you, to be able to show you off to others. . .but he can't be recognized. He can't be seen or heard but by a select few, it's only thanks to Haku that he can be seen or heard by you. It's too late for something 'real' now. So he can plan for the future. For the next life. He'll find you when you're both alive and then you can do everything you'd want to do with a real physical boyfriend. He promises.

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"In spring, the dawn... Red tinges the slowly paling mountain rim... Ah... These mountain fellas must've been goofy for some doll..."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"There is hope buried under the cherry trees... It means that spring is the season of chance encounters."

isn't the like. rumor that cherry blossoms are pink because they dye their petals with the blood of corpses buried beneath them or something? i swear i read that somewhere. apparently it comes from a poem. is hope a body buried under a sakura tree. is that where they buried you, Zenji?

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"The cherry blossoms of Hotarubi are ephemeral—they bloom only to be quickly washed away by the rain. But I am rather fond of that way of life."

Zenji simultaneously lives in Acceptance and Denial stages of grief it seems lol

(between 8pm and 5am)

"The beauty of the cherry blossoms under the night sky inspired me to pick up my pen... Oh, it has gotten easier to lift."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Have you seen him!? Who? Why, my doll, of course! This is very troubling. I've got to find him before the boogeymen stir!"

. . .somehow this reminds me of the Jiro dialogue where he's like "if Yuri asks where I am, tell him i went to bed, i'm going out" lol if the doll reminds him of Jiro, it seems to make sense that now and then it wanders off on its own. I wonder where it's going though?

(between 11am and 4pm)

"My ideal summer vacation? I wish to lay down my burdens in the springs of Yugawara and pursue my wordsmithery in peace, as so many greats have done before me."

Yugawara is a hot spring town in Japan! Apparently since the Meiji era people would go there for inspiration and such thanks to the atmosphere

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"This master wordsmith studied by the light of fireflies... I see. Haku! Turn out the lights!"

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I heard a frightful rumor... Apparently the ghost of a dead student has been spotted around Hotarubi..."

THAT'S YOU. YOU ARE THE SCARY GHOST OF A DEAD STUDENT. PEOPLE CAN SEE YOU MORE BECAUSE IT'S SUMMER.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"Fall is the perfect season for a new book, and I have the perfect one for you... From inspired man of the quill Zenji Kotodama, the fruit of his sweat and blood... "Body.""

(between 11am and 4pm)

"A song for you in the season of the arts... From inspired lute priest Zenji Kotod— Wait, where are you going!?"

why is this the one time 'biwa' is translated to 'lute' lol. . .although 'lute priest' does sound way better than 'biwa priest'

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Gauging the literary significance of this video by something as insignificant as views... Horsefeathers, isn't it?"

yeah!!! don't judge your worth by views or follows, zenji!!!

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I've decided to make you the heroine of my next work... A beautiful princess who bites into a poisoned apple and falls into a deep slumber... and seven of you!"

a fascinating retelling of Snow White. . .Snow White And The Seven Snow Whites. . . .

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"Good morning, fellas! Time for my biwa recital to color the chill of this frigid sunrise! I call it "Six O'Clock in the Morning.""

zenji nO PEOPLE ARE TRYNA SLEEP

(between 11am and 4pm)

"There's a rumor going around that you can hear a biwa playing in the music room when no one's there... I go all the time though, and I've never heard it..."

again. . .that's because it's you. . . .

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"The setting sun... The sky dyed purple... Your beautiful profile, obscured... (gasp) I've been struck by inspiration!! My dear, I have to leave you here!"

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Are you cold? Then let me warm you up... My dear, why are you scooting away? I'll only make you colder...?"

it really seems like he forgets he's a ghost pretty often lmao

His birthday: (June 19th)

"Is this...a birthday present...? (hic) (sob) I'm the luckiest fella around...!"

people don't give him gifts often huh. . .or he's just very emotional. both could be true.

Your birthday:

"I've planned the perfect day to celebrate the miracle of your birth... We'll start with an ode to you, accompanied by my biwa."

he planned you a whole outing or maybe a party! with all day musical accompaniment!! What a sweetheart!!

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year, my dear. I'll be making the first shrine visit with Haku—care to join us?"

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"My dear...is this for me? (hic) (sob) I'll treasure it always...!"

well given he probably can't eat it. . .fair reaction

White Day: (March 14th)

"I'm sorry... I did try to explain that a biwa recital would make a better gift, but Haku insisted I present you with confections instead..."

thanks haku you a real one lmao although music wouldn't be bad just. . . .

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"No, I would never lie to you. An inspired man spins fiction with his quill, not his mouth, after all."

y'know, i love the honesty! you keep making stories and being open, zenji!

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Why, you gave me quite a fright in that getup! What a marvelously queer celebration this is! So this is the legacy of westernization..."

no the marvelously queer celebrations are in june. although halloween is also marvelously queer sometimes--

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Merry Christmas! I've completed a new fairy tale. May my wishes reach the hearts of children everywhere..."

not a gift for you, but for the children! can a ghoul ghost and a human have--

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"...And they lived happily ever after. How did you like my new story? I'd love to hear your— What? You weren't listening!?"

(13 affinity and above)

"Can you see me? Phew... You've been so quiet, you had me worried, my dear."

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"Ah, I'm so relieved you're all right, my dear. I wondered if something had happened on a mission... I'm glad my fears had no teeth."

THAT'S ALL OF EM. He's really. . .he is himself the whole way through huh lol. At the same time when he does acknowledge his ghostliness(and oftentimes he does the exact opposite, simply lacking in self-awareness) he seems a little lonely and regretful. . .I wonder if he was always such a worrywart or if he started worrying more after he died, realizing first hand just how dangerous things could be. I'm surprised how few acknowledgements his doll gets, although I don't think he carries it on the home screen?

I wonder how different his personality was when he was alive. Probably not very different tbh.

ANYWAY IT IS HALF PAST MIDNIGHT FOR ME. BEDTIME.

[whosavaidkher]

Once More To See You

Veroskia X fem!reader

Warnings: angst (obvi it's mitski), panic attack, (sorta) toxic yuri

A/N: sorry guys I've been gone for a while I've been finishing my drafts 😭 hope u enjoy!!

There you were. Sitting down on the floor of the club's bathroom stall, bawling your eyes out. You didn't know why, the tears just came into your eyes and here you are now. You wiped away your tears quickly when you heard a knock on the door. It was Verosika."N/N? Are you in there?" Verosika mumbled confused as she slowly walked in, as you lifted yourself up and went in to hug her tightly. "V! I missed you.. Thank god you came.." You sighed until your eyes widen with confusion and worry as she pushed you away. "W-Why did you do that?" You softly mumbled as you sniffled. "Fuck, look N/N...I-I can't put it in any other way but, I don't wanna be seen with you... Everybody's out there and- shit I just sometimes... Just wanna feel normal. And I can't be that with you..." Verosika says softly and sadly, feeling absolutely nothing in her heart. "W-What? What did I do, was it something I said, was it how I look!? I-I don't know what I did.." You say panicking and shaking, desperately not wanting to lose your lover. "Look, N/N! I can't be with a girl... We have reputations to keep and I can't risk losing mine... Everyone watches us and everywhere I go.. I don't wanna be with you anymore. You never existed to me and you never will. Maybe if you were a boy... Then I would be able to love you.." Verosika says breathless as she puts on a poker face, desperately getting all the memories of you two out of her mind. All the kisses, the hugs, the smiles... All turned into pieces of nothing in her mind. "W-What... Y-Your not even gonna try..? For me...? Why not.." You say softly with tears in your eyes, looking up at her sniffling as you see nothing but flashbacks of 2 years you spent together. ".. I wish you were a boy, N/N." Verosika mumbled before glancing at you one last time before walking away out of the club.

[cosmerelists]

Celebrating Roshar’s Greatest Queer Ally: The Stormfather

For Pride month, lets celebrate Roshar’s best queer ally, who is obviously the Stormfather. Why, you ask? Well...

1. He’s a storm, so obviously he can create RAINBOWS

Yes, he brings death and destruction, and you do not want to be outside in his storm, but at some point, when the sun begins to return, there must be rainbows. And since he is a continuous storm, he also produces continual rainbows, like any queer ally should.

2. He will marry you against the church’s wishes

Church opposes your relationship on religious grounds? Well no matter--the Stormfather will marry you! So far we’ve only seen that with Dalinar & Navani, but I’m sure the Stormfather would honor any sincere oath. 

“Regular couple? Yaoi couple? Yuri couple? I see no difference--an oath is an oath.” ~The Stormfather, probably

3. He motivates gender nonconformance.

It was thanks to the Stormfather’s visions that Dalinar became interested in reading, a shocking thing for any man to do. And in those visions, Dalinar saw women fighting too, and now there are female Radiants with swords everywhere. So we can thank the Stormfather for doing his part to fight heteronormativity on Roshar. 

4. His power can trans your gender

Ral-na, king of Relu-na in the Reshi Isles, essentially got gender-affirming surgery once he formed his bond and became a Radiant. These abilities are powered by stormlight, which has its source in the Stormfather. Hence, one could say that the Stormfather provides free gender-affirming surgery.

5. Honor is a synonym of pride

I looked this up on thesaurus.com, so I cannot be doubted. The Stormfather is a shadow or a fragment of Honor, and Honor is the shard most synonymous with pride. So one could say that the Stormfather’s continuous storm, marching its way over Roshar, is one endless Pride Parade.

In conclusion, everyone say thank you to the Stormfather, queer ally extraordinaire! 

[moonpaw]

just tried to look up yuri on etsy and i just want to say sorry to women enjoyers everywhere for what that fucking ice skating anime did to you