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yieldtotemptation · 8 days

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CRASH ft. Wonyoung

wonyoung x male reader smut

11k words

When she wanted to be (and it was often), Jang Wonyoung could be a real fucking bitch.

If you were to ask her, she’d probably say the same about you.

And yet, that doesn’t stop her from calling you in the middle of the night, slurring about some shit with her manager, telling (not asking) you to come pick her up.

You’re inclined to recommend that she fuck off and find her own way home.

But of course, you don’t. (You never do).

“Sorry boys, my ride’s here!”

There’s a collective groan of disappointment that ripples through the crowd that’s formed up behind Wonyoung; each face falling one after another as they realise that ultimately none of them get to be the lucky suitor that takes her home.

Moths around a flame, unable to do anything but watch as she sashays through the neon haze towards your car. Hips sway with a drunken grace, a dangerously short skirt dances around her thighs, high heels strapped to her feet make her legs seem endless.

It’s a view, that’s for sure.

It probably makes the pain of rejection a little more bearable, makes them forget that they’re being abandoned on the sidewalk with all the rest of the has-beens and ‘who the fuck were you again?’

Her ‘co-workers’, technically. Some you recognise, most you don’t. But they’re all basically the same insecure douchebag in a different shade of overpriced streetwear.

You’d probably be doing the world a public service if you were to steer your car onto the pavement and run them all down.

It’s an idea you entertain a little. Doing it would really ruin her night.

That’d almost make it worth the dent it would put in your brand-new car.

Still, you can’t completely blame the gaggle of potential casualties, not really.

It’s Wonyoung.

Girls like her are the reason they invented the word ’idol’ in the first place, because calling her ’pretty’ or ’hot’ is like calling the Mona Lisa ‘a nice portrait’.

It doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Like the starlet she is, Wonyoung waits until she’s at your car to make her grand exit. A turn to her adorers and a final goodbye: a casual flick of her wrist, a sweet, flirty smile and a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it wink that’ll have them deep in their group chats ranting about how they definitely had a moment with the Jang Wonyoung.

You just roll your eyes. You’ve seen that wink a hundred times.

You know exactly how much it’s worth.

After all, it’s your car that she’s climbing into, slamming the door behind her like it’s her name on the registration; leaving behind her new fan club with nothing but their dicks in their hands and their heads swimming with fantasies of what totally could have happened.

You’re no better though, are you? The second she slides into the passenger seat, you’re judging the shortness of her skirt, eyes greedily tracing the length of her thighs, all the way up to a hint of lace that’s destined to be ruined later.

You’re not subtle. And in that outfit, she’s not either.

“What took you so long? I swear to God I’m going to punch the next guy that asks me ‘how much of a baddie I really am’.”

No thank yous, no pleasantries, not even a look in your direction.

To think that you used to be impressed by how quickly she could drop the act: gone is the sugary sweetness that she’d fooled those simps with back at the club; the pretty, airheaded, ‘lucky Vicky’. As fake and useless as the glasses resting on the bridge of her perfectly shaped nose.

Next to you is the real Wonyoung, the one that you’ve become intimately familiar with: intimidatingly smart, unfathomably hot, and all too aware of how dangerous a woman those two traits made her.

“Why is this car black? I thought I told you to get the red?”

You glare at her. The gall on this woman.

“What are you waiting for? Drive.”

Barely a minute in and she’s setting a personal best record for time taken to piss you off; impatiently kicking off her heels, tossing them over her shoulder and into the back seat (of again: your car, not hers).

You can be just as childish: you slam your foot down, pedal to the floor, wheels screeching, and you peel off into the night. The acceleration forces Wonyoung back into her seat, scrambling for her seat belt, yelling, “What the fuck?”

Now she’s looking at you. You’re casual, offering, “Oh, sorry, did I scare the passenger princess?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, and you’re welcome,” you grumble, slowing to a more reasonable (legal) speed as you turn onto the highway. “Remind me, when was it that I started operating a taxi service for wasted idols?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She rolls her eyes, puts her hands together, bows her head down low. Rich, coming from someone who’s never had to genuinely apologise for anything in her life. “Didn’t realise washed-up trainees had such precious schedules.”

It’s a low blow, her go-to insult for you. Nothing you’re not used to; it’s been years of this, after all.

Years of Wonyoung, the living reminder of your biggest failure, making your life her personal pet project. Years of her smugness, of her flaunting her success in your face, of her demanding more from you, demanding better.

Years of you pushing back, pushing her, and somehow always ending up in the same place, the same bed, the same tangled mess of sweat and spite.

To think it all started when you saw her across that shitty practice room and one of you (you forget who, though it was probably her) said the wrong thing at the wrong time, and it was pure hate at first sight.

“Couldn’t get literally anyone else? Don’t you have friends?” You throw the question out there, keeping your eyes on the road, and not down at her legs, crossing and uncrossing, teasing and taunting. It’s a herculean task—she’s practically ninety percent leg anyway; so fucking easy to admire, so right wrapped around your waist.

“Trust me, I tried. None of the girls have their license, I definitely can’t call someone from the company, and the last time I tried to get a taxi the fucker recognised me and threatened to leak my address. So that leaves me with you,” Wonyoung sighs. “The last resort.”

“Wow, what an honour,” is your reply. You’re still not looking—not sneaking glances at her stomach, as she stretches in your passenger seat.

As an exercise, you pretend she doesn’t exist. Pretend that the hem of her shirt isn’t rising up, peeling back to grace you with a glimpse of her midriff, that waist, her abs tight and exerted after a night spent out on a dance floor.

It nearly works—for a second, you forget you’re supposed to be annoyed at her.

Right until Wonyoung laughs. Not that fake, high-pitched giggle that she knows you find so grating. No, this has an edge to it, a bite that she reserves just for you. “Don’t pretend like you weren’t waiting for me to call. Or were you in the middle of jerking it to my fancams again?”

There’s the memory, the one loss in territory you haven’t quite recovered from. (A reminder: be less blasé about what you choose to name your saved playlists.)

You fire back with, “Yujin’s actually, but nice try.”

“Whatever, pervert.” Your attempt at a riposte doesn’t work, it’s dismissed, leaving Wonyoung satisfied that she’s won this exchange.

As for her prize, she does what she always does—gets touchy with your property.

She busies herself, fiddling with the touchscreen on your dashboard—’What the fuck is this playlist?’ and 'Why do you listen to this group? You know all those girls are absolute bitches, right?’.

“Stop that.” You reach over to slap her wrist before she starts getting too ambitious and messes with the temperature controls again.

"Hey!” Wonyoung yelps, recoiling, and then pauses. You turn to her, see her annoyingly flawless features scrunch up in disgust as she asks, “What’s that smell?”

You curse under your breath as you realise what’s coming. Wonyoung’s frustratingly sensitive when it comes to scents; she’s got a nose like a bloodhound—and a penchant for sticking it in the parts of your life she doesn’t belong.

She’s gone as far as 'gifting’ you every perfume you’ve owned, every body wash, every shampoo, even your fucking laundry detergent.

Just another way she’s tried to take over your life.

You give your own car a whiff, if only to see if this is just another case of Wonyoung being a brat.

It doesn’t smell bad at all.

In fact, it smells sweet. Too sweet.

“Ew, seriously, what is that? Is that you?”

You’re too slow—she’s got your forearm now. For someone that looks so delicate she’s got a grip like a vice. She brings your wrist up to her nose, sniffing, making her way higher up your arm.

“Let it go, Wonyoung.”

She’s not listening at all, unbuckling her seat belt, leaning over the console, pulling herself closer to you, pushing her body against yours. Whatever little respect Wonyoung had for your personal space is gone; her nose is on your neck, her breath hot against your skin.

“It smells like…” She pauses, getting even closer, taking a deep inhale as she tries to place the fragrance. “Why do you smell like a whore?”

Her voice is low, coloured with a barely noticeable slur. You can feel it: the powder keg about to explode, Wonyoung getting ready to go from zero to a hundred. So, you deflect, “Sure you’re not smelling yourself?”

“Fuck you, I don’t use that cheap shit,” she snaps. “You fucked someone tonight, didn’t you?”

You don’t reply. It’s not like you owe her one, anyway—she’s not your girlfriend, you’re not her boyfriend, you two are…

Rivals, mortal enemies, fuck-buddies, friends-with-benefits (except without the whole friendship part).

(Take your pick, call it whatever you want, or in Wonyoung’s case: don’t call it anything at all.)

“Who—who was it this time?” Wonyoung’s fingers tighten around your arm, and there’s that spark in her eyes.

Every chance she gets, she’ll insist she gives so few fucks about your personal life, but one mention of another woman and she’s diving right in the mud, for once not hiding the fact that she may actually give a shit about you.

It’s probably why you do it.

“Who’s the slut dumb enough to spread her legs for you?”

Now it’s your turn to avoid her gaze, to pretend that having her this close isn’t doing wild things to your heartrate. You make an unforced error: “None of your business.”

“So you did fuck someone.” Her hand moves down your arm, dragging her fake acrylics across your skin until they find purchase in your thigh, digging in hard enough to make you flinch. “You fucked someone I know didn’t you. Who…” She’s reading you, trying to find the answer somewhere in the stress lines of your face. “Hyewon. Yena. Yuri. I swear if it was fucking Eunbi, I’m going to—”

“Going to what?” You challenge. You know this game. You’ve played it before—every damn time she gets like this (and you know where it leads). “Going to lie to me about your own personal survival show back there?”

Wonyoung scoffs. It’s a throaty sound that seems almost foreign coming from her—too impolite, too uncouth for the elegant, refined image she’s painstakingly cultivated. But she makes it anyway, because she’s had a few too many drinks and you’re the only one who’s around to see her like this—raw, unfiltered. “Those losers? I’m not like you, bringing home every pair of tits that strokes your ego.”

“Good to know that I’m special then,” you smirk, but she’s not smiling back.

No, she’s just looking at you, in that annoying, Wonyoung way. It’s those big, doe eyes of hers that you’ve seen do so much damage before—make men bend over backwards, light themselves on fire just to get her to look their way. “You wish.”

You push on, push her just a little bit. “Drop the act, Wony. I wasn’t your last resort—I’m the only one you even considered. You needed your daddy—isn’t that what you were calling me before?”

“I never said that.”

“Wony—”

“And if I did, I’ll never say it again,” she declares, before emphasising. “Never. Again.”

But you know her better than that. You know her lies just as well as she knows yours; it’s in the quickness of her response, the defensiveness—the vulnerability.

“I doubt that,” you say, making the most of the tiny crack in Wonyoung’s armour. “I remember you screaming it. Had you cumming like a fountain—ruined a perfectly good set of sheets, you know?”

“You’re disgusting,” she hisses, but she’s got the same memories in her head—that same night, so similar to this one (so similar to every night before).

The fighting, the fucking, the endless cycle of pushing each other’s button until one of you snaps.

“And what about you? You got here awfully quick for two in the morning,” she says. Her hand’s still on your thigh, less nails, more fingertips now, tracing patterns through the denim of your jeans. “Couldn’t bear the thought of me with someone else, could you? Lie to me—tell me that you weren’t waiting to get your hands on me again.”

Your denial dies before it even makes it past your lips—your own body turns traitor on you, provoked by her hand rising higher. There’s a smile as Wonyoung finds what she was looking for, the proof in the stretching of your jeans, the outline of your cock begging for more of her attention.

“At least this part of you is honest,” she muses, fingers dancing around your growing stiffness.

You grit your teeth, doing your best to keep the car steady, managing to grind out, “Please. It’s like you said, any decent pair of tits does it for me. Even your tiny ones get the job done.”

Her hand freezes on your thigh—you’ve hit a nerve, hit that dark part of her that’s so desperate for validation. “You think you can replace me? Find someone else to fill your sad, lonely nights?”

She’s closer now, her breath against your neck, her fingers drumming a beat right over where the head of your cock is. It’s a heady feeling, one that you hate and crave all at once.

“Was she even good?”

You know what she’s really asking: Was she better than me?

And you know the answer: How could anyone be?

But you don’t say that. You don’t need to. Instead, you reply, “It’s not a competition.”

“Everything’s a competition.”

Wonyoung’s hand relaxes, nails retreating from your thigh, leaving you flustered and fighting against the constraints of your own jeans. She settles back into her seat, having done her damage.

And for a moment, silence reigns inside your car, allowing you to actually focus on the road. Not that it really matters, you know the route to her apartment by heart—you could drive it blindfolded if need be. It’s just a welcome distraction to avoid dealing with the state she’s left you in.

The quiet survives a beat, two, and then Wonyoung’s squirming, shifting in the passenger seat.

And then she does it again.

And again.

You should keep your eyes ahead—you need to keep your eyes ahead.

You know exactly what you’re going to find if you look over at her.

That’s the problem with you and Wonyoung. You know each other too well. Your likes, your dislikes. What gets you off. What makes you mad.

What drives you fucking wild.

And yet, because you’re a sucker for punishment, you still risk a glance, and see Wonyoung, leaning back in her seat, her hand sliding up her own thigh, so casually drifting up her soft, bare skin, higher and higher.

The skirt rises, inch by torturous inch, and it’s those panties—the same set that was around her ankles the last time you had her bent over your couch, swearing she’d hate you forever. The same set that’s probably already soaked, just waiting for you to rip them off again.

You have to tell her to stop, to keep her hands to herself, to not do this to you, not now. Not while you’re trying to keep you both on the fucking road. But your mouth is dry, and all you can manage is a choked, “Wonyoung—”

Her fingers have slid past the hem of her skirt, now playing with the lace that’s the only barrier between her and open air. She’s biting into the plumpness of her bottom lip, staring at you, expecting your full attention, even now. There’s no subtlety with her, there never is, it’s one of the few things Wonyoung’s bad at.

You swallow hard, finding your voice. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Making myself comfortable,” she says, a little breathy now, as her fingers slip under the lace. “You got a problem with it?”

There’s the flash of skin, a gasp as her fingers find purchase between her folds. She’s so wet that you can hear it—the slickness of her arousal, the quiet sound of fabric sliding against her skin.

You’re straining, gripping the steering wheel so hard it’s a miracle it doesn’t snap in two. Her hand’s dipping lower, her finger sliding inside herself; not deep, not yet, just teasing. Enough to make you want to pull over, to grab her and throw her on the hood of your car, to show her exactly why you’re the only she thinks about when she’s lonely and desperate.

But you don’t, despite the way your body is begging for you to do something, anything, to ease the ache in your cock.

Because if you stop, it’s over. You know how this ends—or rather, you know how she’ll want it to end. She’ll want you to apologise for even being in the proximity of another woman, she’ll want you to beg for her forgiveness so that she might bestow upon you the privilege of touching her again.

If you’re lucky, she just might let you. But only if you play her games.

So you drive faster.

You push the speed limit, weaving through the mostly empty streets. You’re racing to a finish line, except all that’s waiting at the end of it is the taste of Wonyoung on your tongue, the feeling of her wrapped around you, the sweet victory of making her scream.

It’s hell—ignoring the sound of her pleasure, the wetness of her fingers working in and out of herself. There’s glimpses of her in the corner of your eye, she’s still watching you. She’s enjoying this, loving every second of it.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, oh-so-innocently, even though she doesn’t expect an answer—she just likes to hear her own voice. “Getting distracted? It’s a long, long way back to my place. No one can blame you if you need to give up and pull over.”

Wonyoung’s getting bolder now, pulling her skirt up to her waist, parting her legs for you, so you can see her hand moving faster, her hips rising to meet her own touch. So you can hear her, hear the fucking sound of each stroke of her fingers inside her, punctuated each time by a wet slap of her palm against her cunt, reverberating through the car, taunting you.

“You want it, don’t you?” She throws the question out so casually, like of course it’s only natural for her to be fingering herself in your car, of course she should be doing everything in her power to make you want to drive into a fucking wall. “I can tell, you’re so desperate to touch me. Definitely going to die if you don’t fuck me soon. Maybe even right here, right now?”

Your foot slips and the car swerves a little—it’s not much, but it’s enough to let her know that you’re losing focus, that she’s winning.

“Careful,” she laughs. “You wouldn’t want to crash before we get to the fun part.”

“You can’t wait until we get back to your place?” You finally ask, the question burning in your throat.

“No. You need to be reminded that you’re-ah-mine,” comes Wonyoung’s answer. “You’re going to fuck me anyway, so why not-mmph-why not save us both the trouble and get started on my own?”

“You don’t own me, Wonyoung.”

To that, Wonyoung raises a carefully sculpted eyebrow.

It’s not even worth a proper reply. Without a word, Wonyoung reclines back into her seat and snaps open the buttons of her shirt, nonchalantly revealing the swell of her breasts, the darkened peaks of her nipples.

No bra—they’re just there. Right there, in your face—those tiny, round, perky tits that you’ve had in your hands, that you’ve had between your teeth, that you’ve covered with your cum more times than you can count.

She’s not shy about it—never has been—arching her back, pushing her breasts out even further. It’s the confidence from knowing every other idol (hell, every other woman in the world) would sell their soul to have a body like hers. So why the fuck not flaunt it?

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s true,” she says, reaching up to her chest. A palm finds her tits, pinching and rolling the sensitive nubs, making them nice and red and swollen for you.

She’s moving faster now, grinding down on her own hand, teeth sinking down into her bottom lip so deep you’re surprised she hasn’t drawn blood. Her breaths are getting shorter and shorter, she’s so close, she’s so fucking turned on, she’s so hot it hurts.

Her eyes remain fixed on you; seeing you struggle only makes her hotter, spurs her to circle her clit faster. She’s drinking you in—the tightness of your jaw, the way your eyes can’t decide whether to keep on the road or on her, the way you swallow, trying (and failing) to keep it together.

The worst part of it all is this wicked smile that’s settled on her lips; thoughts of wiping it off her face with your cock flash through your mind. She’s just so fucking smug about it, so sure of herself.

And maybe she should be.

“Admit it,” Wonyoung purrs. “Admit that you need me.”

“Why would I? You’re just a convenient hole to fill.” It’s not true, of course. You’ve never believed it; none of the hundred times you’ve said it to her before—and she’s never once been fooled.

Wonyoung is back in your ear, “You’re a bad liar.”

Her hand’s returned to your thigh, teasing closer and closer to where you really want it to be. You grunt a weak, “Wonyoung, if you think that’s going to work—”

But she doesn’t listen (she never does).

She reaches for the bulge in your pants, far too quick for you to stop her from wrapping her fingers around you, from taking a hold of you and squeezing.

“See?” She whispers, thick with satisfaction, feeling you throb in her grip. “You’re already about to burst. You can’t resist me. No one can.”

You’re not backing down. You’ve got your own pride to think of, after all. “Save it for your fan club.”

Wonyoung’s never been one to take no for an answer. Her hand moves with purpose, sliding over your zipper and giving it a forceful tug. The sound rings through the car, and it’s an out of body experience; it’s all in slow motion as she pulls out your hard, aching cock.

Fuck.

“Last chance to pull over.” Wonyoung takes a hold of you, fingers curling around your cock with a firm grip that leaves no room for doubt—she’s not letting go until she gets what she wants. “Who knows what will happen if you keep driving like this. Wouldn’t want to ruin these expensive leather seats with your cum, now would we?”

“Not a fucking chance.”

“Your funeral,” she answers, her smile widening into a full-blown grin as she starts to move, stroking you, her hand gliding up and down your shaft with familiar ease. “Or ours, I guess.”

She’s not making it easy—there’s the slow, deliberate pumps, her thumb circling the head, her fingers teasing the sensitive skin. It’s so natural for her, so goddamn good.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Wonyoung’s question hangs in the air, joining the sound of her fist pumping your cock, the squish of her own fingers plunging in and out of her cunt. It’s a taunting metronome, the more you try to ignore her, the tighter she squeezes, the fastest she strokes you, the louder she moans in your ear. “Are you sure you can handle me?”

“I’ve done it before and I can do it again,” you grit out. “You’re going to be the one begging for it in the end. Like always.”

She huffs, and you’ve found your mark. “Oh, really? You think you’re so much better than me? You think you can just ignore me like that?”

“Better than you? Easily,” you answer. “You’re just a pretty face and a pair of legs that can’t keep itself shut.”

That makes her stroke you harder, tighter now, firmer, she’s trying to make this hurt. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

“What gives you the impression I even think about you at all?”

“Oh, I know it keeps you up at night—thinking about me, wondering if I’m thinking about you, wondering if any other slut can make you feel the way I do,” Wonyoung’s leaning on you, chin propped up on your shoulder, a devil in your ear. “You hate it, don’t you? You hate that it’s my cunt that you can’t get out of your head, that it’s my pretty lips that you need so badly around your cock.”

"Are you sure you’re not just projecting, Wony?” You ask, glancing down to her hand between her legs, her fingers deep in her folds, her cunt dripping with juices and making a small puddle beneath her. “Look at how wet you are at just the thought of having my cock back between your pretty lips again.”

“Fuck you.” Wonyoung’s panting, short harsh breaths. There’s no conviction in her voice, no denial to be found—this dance of spite and lust has her so fucking heated. All of it—the hate, the competition, the push and pull: it’s all just foreplay. “You’re nothing to me. Nothing but a back-up plan, a toy I play with when I’m bored.”

“Now who’s a bad liar.”

“Go fuck your—”

You don’t let her finish her insult. You’re tired of the back and forth, the games, the fucking power plays. You take your hand off the steering wheel, grabbing her by the hair, wrenching her head up to meet your eyes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re—” Wonyoung’s mistake is opening her mouth in protest—you push her face down onto your cock; not giving her a chance to argue, not giving her a chance to do anything but suck you dry like the skinny little slut she is.

She chokes, hacks a cough as you plunge your cock down her throat, her nose meeting your waist, and it nearly has you emptying into her mouth then and there.

Turns out, she’s right.

You do need this. Need to feel her perfect, pouty lips on you again, her teeth grazing against your skin, her tongue giving in and worshipping you like she’s never done with anyone else.

You keep a hand wrapped up in a fistful of her hair, but you don’t even need to hold her down—she doesn’t fight you, doesn’t even make the slightest noise of protest. No, she just takes it; never mind how much her eyes water, her mouth drools.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning before you can think better of it, and just like that, you’re conceding the smallest victory to her.

And it makes her smile around your cock.

You grunt in response; buck your hips, feed her your cock, make her gag (make her regret it).

You don’t ease up, because if there’s one thing you know about Wonyoung (one thing you know about fucking Wonyoung), it’s that the most insulting thing you can do to her is to take it easy on her.

Just fuck her face and behold the sight of Wonyoung taking your cock. God, her pretty lips wrapped around you, her throat bulging at your length, her teary eyes staring up at you with a mix of defiance and something that’s eerily close to adoration.

It almost makes you forget that you’re supposed to be driving, and it takes a honk from a car behind you and a smile and a curt nod from Wonyoung to remind you of the world rushing by outside.

You pull your eyes back to the road, both hands on the steering wheel to right the car back on track, barely escaping death by deepthroat.

Wonyoung laughs around your cock, a muffled sound that sends vibrations up your shaft. You try to ignore it, but she’s already seizing the opportunity, taking full advantage of the distraction to push down on her own accord, to take you deep—to start properly sucking.

You swerve again.

Her mouth is absolute heaven, pure and simple—she’s a fucking master at this. Your cock’s been in her mouth so many times before that she could probably write an instruction manual on exactly how to make you come unglued.

Too much all at once—you’re groaning now, unable to help it. She’s not even trying that hard; just taking your cock between her lips, sliding it all the way down her throat, a few gentle licks here, a swirl of her tongue there, but it’s more than enough. It’s what keeps you coming back. No one else feels like this—no one else has mapped out your cock like she has—every inch, every vein.

It’s the rhythm that she’s got down to a science: how fast to take you, how much pressure to apply, when to break from her pace to keep you teetering on the edge.

You can feel her eyes on you, scanning you for any sign of weakness—this is precisely where she wants to be. Like this was her decision—like everything leading up to this was part of some messed up strategy to provoke you, to make sure that your cock ended up in her mouth.

You don’t get a chance to dwell on that thought, not when Wonyoung’s teeth is at the base of your cock, her cheeks hollowed out, her tongue doing these little flicks that make your toes curl.

And there’s the question in her eyes: ’is that all you got?’.

Fuck it—risk taking your hand off the steering wheel, it belongs in her silky, dark hair. Make her eyes widen, make her take you deeper, kiss the back of her throat with the tip of your cock, force these divine fucking sounds.

The noises when she gags around you, when the spit is hacked up and drooled down your cock; she’s so sloppy, so filthy.

And she takes it, takes all of it.

Push her down before pulling her up by the hair, choke her, gag her, have her slobber all over your cock, make her feel you.

Wonyoung takes and takes and takes.

It’s fucked up how you’re treating her (how she’s letting you treat her); she’s an idol for fucks sake. But that’s the last concern you have on your mind—all you can focus on is how fucking good it feels to do this to her, to have her fighting for air around your cock, fighting to keep her eyes on you as you fill them with tears.

Wonyoung’s not giving up though—she’s timing it, timing you. When to relax her throat to take you deep. When to suction her lips. Where to dart her tongue to find that sensitive spot along your shaft.

She’s battling back, in her own way, just as determined as you are to not lose this war of wills. But in the end, you’re the one in the driver’s seat.

“Mmmph,” she’s the one moaning now, moaning around your cock. Shivering in your lap, body jerking and trembling; you can tell her fingers are still buried in her cunt, playing with herself.

She’s so fucking shameless, so fucking pretty, even like this—cheeks flushed, makeup smeared, eyes watering.

You want to kiss her, but that would mean separating her lips from your cock. You want to tell her how much you hate her, but the words won’t come out—they’re stuck in your throat, lodged between your grinding teeth.

“Wait—fuck.” You realise you’ve missed your turn, a split second too late. You jerk the steering wheel, needing both hands as you pull a sharp U-turn. The tires squeal as you try to correct your error, Wonyoung’s mouth around your dick scrambling your brains.

She pulls her lips off from your cock with a hollow ‘pop’. “I thought you could handle me?”

You try to reply—try to form a single coherent thought—but the chance slips by as Wonyoung’s back on the offense, back throating your cock so quickly that your vision swims.

A deep breath is what you need to keep it together. You’re barely thinking straight, holding onto the steering wheel for dear life, doing everything you can to keep yourself from giving up (giving in to Wonyoung’s mouth).

But it’s hard. So fucking hard.

You’ve blown far past any normal speed limit, trying to keep from spinning out with every one of her enthusiastic bobs—it’s by some divine benevolence the car hasn’t completely flipped over by now.

Wonyoung’s relentless, her mouth’s a fucking black hole, sucking you in, stealing every thought from your mind until there’s nothing rattling around your skull but the feel of her wet, warm lips on your cock, and the obscene sounds of her fingers sawing in and out of her pussy, fucking herself.

You’re almost there, and Wonyoung knows it. You can feel it in the suction of her lips, in how hard she’s working you over. It’s the sweetest kind of torture—knowing that she’s got you right where she wants you, that she’s got you on the edge and you can’t do anything about it.

You’re not going to last much longer.

Neither is she.

So you drive. You drive like your life depends on it, because maybe it does. Maybe the only thing keeping you sane is the promise of your eventual release, of filling her mouth with her cum, of pulling her onto your lap and fucking her cunt raw until she screams your name.

“Come on, you can do it,” she’s taunting you now, lathering your cock with just her tongue, dragging it along your length, licking you all the way from your balls to your head. She’s giggling as she steals the pre-cum from your tip, the fucking bitch—like she’s got all the power in the world.

You can see her apartment building in the distance, a beacon of light in the darkness.

You’re almost there.

You reach for the garage remote, mashing the button as you get closer and closer (you’re going to break it). The gate sluggishly opens, and you make a sharp turn to swerve into the dimly lit building, not bothering to slow down.

You can’t, not when Wonyoung’s balancing your cock on her tongue, her hand now squeezing at your base, stroking so fast, so erratic, determined to have you cum in her mouth as soon as fucking possible.

“You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?” she asks, expectantly. “Cover me in it, give me what I deserve—show me how much you need me.”

The car’s screeching to the closest parking space, the sound echoing through the garage, as you skid between parallel white lines.

You’re cumming before the car’s even completely stopped.

It’s explosive; a white-hot heat searing through your veins, a roar in your ears as you shower Wonyoung’s perfect face with ropes of cum. She’s still jerking you off with her hand, her mouth hovering around the head of your cock, slurping up every drop she can get.

“All mine,” she chants, greedy for it. You pulse in her hand, your cum spurting over her cheekbones, across her nose, painting over that tiny dark freckle above the corner of her mouth.

She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink; she’s a statue, a goddess demanding her sacrifice. Her grip is ironclad, stroking you through your orgasm, not stopping until you’re drained, until your cock is twitching in her hand and there’s nothing left but a sticky mess plastered across her big, wide grin.

You feel the last of your orgasm pulse out of you, dripping down her dainty fingers. She licks her lips, smearing your cum across her cheek with her thumb before she sits up straight, basking in her victory.

“Fuck, Wonyoung,” you manage to get out, your chest heaving, your hand finally loosening its grip on the steering wheel.

“Mm-hmm,” she nods, not looking away from you, not breaking the eye contact that’s holding you in place. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

She’s not done yet—she still has to take her victory lap.

Wonyoung pulls herself off you, giving the tip of your cock a parting kiss as she sits back in her seat. She lifts her legs up—those endless stretches of porcelain skin—one after another, slow, dramatic, placing her bare feet on the dashboard.

Her skirt rides up, and with a stretch she drags her panties up her thighs, along her calves, and off her feet; the lace is soaked with her juices, leaving a trail of stickiness as she reveals herself to you.

The panties disappear somewhere into the backseat of your car, another spoil of war, and she spreads her legs wide, so wide, making sure you have a perfect view of her gleaming cunt. You can see her clit, peeking out from between her folds, and it’s all you can do to keep your hand from reaching over and taking over.

But this is her show, isn’t it? This is all for her, all about her getting off. And she’s fucking drowning in it—fingers in her cunt again almost immediately, so wet, so hot, so shameless in your car, so confident in her ability to get what she wants from you.

Her hips rock up and down, she’s fucking herself in front of you—for you. She’s daring you to look away, challenging you to deny how fucking hot she is.

You can’t.

“I’m going to cum now.” It’s a low hush, confident. “Watch me. Don’t move. Just fucking watch me.”

Wonyoung’s eyes are crystal clear, staring deep into you with the look of a girl who’s gotten everything she’s ever wanted in life. It’s that look she gets right before she shatters, and you know she’s there—right fucking there.

Her other hand reaches up, cradling your cheek, needing some connection, needing you to be with her. It’s not enough to just simply cum, she needs you to see it, to be a part of it in some twisted way.

“Just look at you,” Wonyoung says, like she’s not the one that’s covered in your cum, that’s not bucking her hips into her hand, working herself into a frenzy, like she’s trying to tear herself apart. “You can’t keep your eyes off me, can you?”

And she’s right—you hate her, you love her, you want to fuck her, you want to strangle her—it’s all a jumble of emotions in your head.

“That’s it—keep looking at me—don’t fucking take your eyes off me—fuck—yes—I’m going to—”

The only warning you get is a strangled gasp as Wonyoung cums, feeling it through her entire body, forcing her to keel over by just the force of it, making her fall into you.

Her hand on your cheek drags down to wrap around your neck, anchoring herself to you, pulling herself closer so she can smash her mouth against yours.

She’s kissing you, really kissing you, mouth open and hungry, all teeth and tongue, sloppy and wet. She’s marking her territory now, claiming you as she cums, and fuck, you can still taste yourself on her lips—salty and bitter.

Wonyoung’s hand is still working her clit, prolonging her bliss, and then she’s climbing on top of you, straddling you, grinding down on your half-hard cock as she rides out the last of her orgasm.

Her thighs are sticky with her juices, her skirt riding up so high that you can see the bare, plump skin of her ass, and you’re fighting the urge to just push it aside and plunge your cock inside her—

But she’s not giving you that satisfaction—not yet.

Her climax dies right on top of you—her hips rolling on her fingers, her body living and dying on the last embers of pleasure.

Finally, Wonyoung stops, collapsing against your chest, and you let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of her body pressing down on you. She’s a mess, a fucking disaster, and you hold her tight, your arms around her impossibly tiny waist, your cock coming back to life between her thighs.

It’s intimate, almost kind of romantic in a way that’s entirely fucked up, considering, well everything. You’re both a mess of cum and sweat, panting against each other, intertwined together in the driver’s seat of your car, the garage lights flickering overhead like some kind of sick mood lighting.

Wonyoung laughs.

“You’re all sticky.” She leans back, taking her finger and swiping it across your cheek, coming away with a glistening strand of your own cum, a rope that must have strayed from her face and onto yours.

There’s a glint in her eyes, a dirty little idea, and before you can even react, she’s leaning in again, her tongue tracing the line of your jaw, collecting the rogue drops of you.

She rolls her hips down and over you as she does it, stirring your cock back to attention, because apparently she’s not done with you yet.

“You’re a fucking bitch, Wonyoung,” you reply, but there’s no venom behind it. You’re just stating a fact: the sky is blue, the sun rises in the east, and Wonyoung is a bitch.

It’s just the way she is.

You can feel her smirking against your neck, you can picture the look on her face—like she’s already won. It’s infuriating, really, and you’ve got to even the score.

“What are you going to do, take me upstairs and punish me?”

“No,” you say, the word sticking in your throat like it’s made of honey. “Not upstairs.”

“Here?” Wonyoung looks around your car, doing a terrible job of feigning shock (as if she doesn’t know what you’re about to do to her). Yes, she’s a horrendous actress, but it would take an Oscar worthy performance to mask the heat radiating from her thighs, her cunt dripping down onto your lap. “What makes you think I’d let you?”

“What makes you think you have a choice?”

A press of a button has your seat sliding back, giving you just enough room to lift Wonyoung up, hoisting her above you like she’s a trophy you just won. Congratulations, here’s your Grand Prize—Wonyoung’s tight body, yours for the night (yours for every night).

She can’t do anything but be held by you, have her hips positioned, her cunt aligned with your cock—in your hands, at your mercy, under your control.

“Wait, wait—fuck—”

And then you slam into her.

“Daddy!”

That word. That filthy, devastating word is fucked out of her mouth, a gasping scream as you bury yourself deep into her.

You’d do anything to hear it again.

You don’t bother with gentleness or foreplay—this isn’t a romantic reunion after a long day apart. It’s your hands on her narrow hips; hers doing its best to brace herself on the roof of the car, the window, anywhere she can get a grip.

“Say it again,” you grunt, pulling her back down on you, so hard that she bounces back up, only to be met by another thrust.

“Fuck you,” she spits out, but she’s moaning with every thrust, tightening around you each time, her body betraying her words.

“Fuck you, who?” You’re laughing now, the sound thick and low in your throat as you watch her squirm in your grasp. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that, baby.”

“You know who,” she says, her eyes flying open, glaring at you as she catches her breath. “You always know who.”

“Then say it.”

“Fuck you, daddy.”

“That’s fucking right.”

Her legs are trembling around your waist as you drive into her, her nails digging into the threads of your shirt. She’s begging you for more—harder, faster, deeper—because that’s what she wants from you, that’s what she needs from you. It’s always been like this—no soft embraces, no tender kisses. Just more, more, more.

You wrap your hand around her throat, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to remind her who’s in charge, who’s giving it to her. You lean in, so close her eyes cross, and whisper in her ear, “This is all you’re good for, you know that?”

Wonyoung’s response is to tense her muscles, clench her cunt around you, buck her hips to slap her ass against your thighs. Another battleground in your endless fight for dominance. Fighting for control, trying to dictate the pace, to set the rhythm, to be the one doing the fucking and not the one getting fucked.

And fuck, she’s tight.

Her cunt, her waist, her body. God, it’s like she was built for this.

Designed to fit perfectly in the palm of your hand, to be filled by your cock, to have her skirt hiked up to her waist like a flag of surrender. You’ve got her right where you want her, where she’s always been, where she always will be.

“I fucking hate how good you are at this,” she gasps, the confession spilling from her lips.

You laugh, “I fucking hate you too.”

She’s kissing you again, fingers in your hair now, scraping the back of your scalp, as she rises and falls on your cock. Reflex has your hand tightening around her throat, feeling her pulse quicken beneath your thumb, making her choke out another ‘daddy’.

You’re fucking her like you hate her, like you’re trying to punish her for every sharp word and cold shoulder she’s ever thrown your way. And she’s taking it like she loves it, like she’s been waiting for this all night, all year, all her fucking life.

Wonyoung looks so fucking good, so perfect riding you like this, it’s starting to piss you off. Her hair’s framing her face in perfect waves, not a single strand out of place, even though you’ve had your hands all through it, your fingers tangled in it. Her makeup’s smudged—you can see the tracks of your cum on her cheek—but she wears it like a fucking badge of honour—and like all things, it looks good on her.

It’s like the universe took one look at her and said, ‘nah, she’s too pretty to let any of that shit ruin her.’

But you’ll try.

Keep going—keep fucking; each moan into your mouth, each push of her tongue against your own, each graze of her teeth against your skin—tells you you’re getting there.

Like you’re trying to fuck out all the spite and anger that’s been building up between you, like you can somehow purge it from your systems and just be left with the good parts.

(It’s never that simple.)

“Wonyoung—” you start, but she cuts you off.

“If I could just have your cock without the rest of you—without your stupid mouth, without that fucking look on your face—fuck yes, just like that—without all the bullshit and fighting—fuck, fuck, fuck—”

You don’t believe her, of course—you’re not just a cock to her, the same as she’s not just a pussy to you. But you let her have her fantasy, let her keep pretending she’s just using you for a good time.

“You’re such a bitch,” you murmur, making her chuckle in your ear, her teeth finding the sensitive skin of your lobe, biting down and making you hiss.

Wonyoung’s confession: “Only because it—gah—makes you fuck me harder.”

And it does—it makes you want to show her, prove yourself to her, make her feel it the next day and every day after. Fuck her until she’s nothing but a trembling, whimpering mess, until she’s begging for you to stop. Until she’s begging for you to never stop.

You’re both getting sloppier now, Wonyoung’s hips stuttering as you pound that spot deep inside her, the one that makes her see stars and scream your name, the car shaking with the force of your fucking.

It’s a badly-kept secret you’re keeping from the world outside—the car’s rocking, the lights inside are on, making no efforts to hide what the two of you are doing (doing to each other).

If anyone looks closely enough, if the security cameras in the garage get curious and zoom in, they’ll see your silhouettes; her body arching back, your hips thrusting up and into her.

They’ll see Jang Wonyoung, the princess of the industry, getting fucked in the front seat of a car like some common whore.

And she’s loving it. The danger, the thrill of being seen, the risk that anyone could walk by and hear her moan your name, her voice strained by your hand on her throat. It’s the fact that she’s letting you do this to her, that she’s letting you fuck her like this, even when she’s telling you she fucking hates it.

This moment—Wonyoung—right here, is what you live for.

You want to save it, to bottle it up and keep it with you forever. You want to remember how she feels, how she tastes, the fucking sounds she makes when she’s just about to cum. You want to replay this in your head every time you’re alone, every time you’re with someone else—because even though there might be someone else, they’ll never come fucking close to her.

And then you get an idea.

It’s a terrible idea, one that’ll surely end in disaster—like all the best ideas.

You hold down on Wonyoung’s hips, stopping her mid-thrust, and she’s whining, letting slip just how good you’re making her feel.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she snaps, taking short, sharp inhales, replenishing all the oxygen you’ve fucked out of her.

You ignore her, reaching for the dashboard camera that’s been silently facing outside, towards the wall of the garage. It’s been switched on the entire time, waiting to record the car crash inside—you and Wonyoung tearing each other apart.

Wonyoung’s scared. “Oh no, don’t you fucking—”

But she can’t stop you. You’re already spinning it around, pointing it directly at her cum-covered face, her sweat-drenched body.

“Smile for the camera, Wony.”

Her mouth opens, but she can’t muster the words. You’re fucking her again, the camera watching everything, capturing every moan, every slight quiver of her body. It’s a side of her nobody gets to see—the side you’re most familiar with.

Wonyoung at her most honest, when she’s undeniably yours.

Just her—getting used (using you)—and fuck, there’s nothing more worthy to be captured and preserved for all eternity.

Her eyes dart to the camera, then back to you, her mind racing a mile a minute. You can see the gears turning—she’s trying to figure out how to get out of this, how to win back some ground, but she’s lost.

You’ve got her, and she knows it.

You’re fucking her, and she has no choice but to follow—whether she likes it or not.

“Fine,” she says, the admission torn from her throat as you push back into her. “But if this leaks—if you ever show this to anyone, I’ll fucking kill you.”

You just laugh. “You really think so little of me? Like anyone would believe it anyway.”

And you mean it. You’re not that stupid. But the thought of having a permanent record of this moment, of Wonyoung, begging in high definition—it has you hooked.

You can’t help but add, “But we’ll always know it’s there, won’t we? Forever.”

Wonyoung narrows her brows at you, but she doesn’t protest anymore. Instead, she does the opposite. She starts to lean into it.

She tips her head back, arching her spine so that her tits are pushed up, giving the camera a picture-perfect shot of her body, her chest, the stiffness of her nipples—everything.

Jang Wonyoung—always the performer.

A free hand runs through her hair, flinging it back over her shoulder, and she starts to roll her whole body; fucking herself on you in a way that’s so deliberate, so fucking pornographic.

“God, I fucking hate this.” Wonyoung puts it on public record, eyes never leave yours as she performs for the camera—or for you, it’s hard to tell.

“What’s that, baby?” You tease. "You hate how good this feels?”

“I hate that it’s you,” she says, the words forced out between gasps. “I hate how fucking hot you are.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

You’ll never understand it. How someone you despise so much, with every fibre of your being, can fit so perfectly around you, feel so downright incredible on top of you. It’s a cruel joke that the universe decided to play on you both.

But you play along, let her ride you like it’s her fucking birthright, lock you in some petty staring contest, keep your mind filled with nothing but the tightness of her cunt.

You’re both panting now, sweat slicking your skin, making it easier for her to slide up and down on your cock. Her small tits bounce with every movement, and you can’t help but reach out to grab one, pinch it hard, making her wince, making her gasp.

“Fuck—you should quit whatever the fuck you’re doing,” she says, trying her best to form complete sentences through the pain, the bliss. “Work for me.”

“And do what?”

“I don’t know.” Wonyoung looks down at you and you can see it on her face: the fucking slut is dead serious. “Manager, bodyguard, assistant. Whatever I can do to keep you close so you can fuck me like this whenever I want. If Yujin can have her drummer boy, it’s only fair that I get you.”

“Why the fuck would I want to spend all day waiting on you?”

She corrects you: “Spend all day inside of me.”

There’s your fantasy—mornings fucking Wonyoung in some hotel room, drinking all the juices from her pussy in the car on the way to work, having her suck your cock backstage at some concert, making her scream your name every night before going to sleep.

And then waking up and doing it all again.

There’s no hiding the smirk on your face. “Go fuck yourself, Wonyoung.”

Wonyoung mirrors your grin, that wild, cock-drunk look in her eyes. “Why would I do that when I have you?”

“No.” You’re pulling her close, holding her body tight to you, making her feel it. “You’re mine.”

That word again—'daddy’ on her lips, turning into a desperate cry as her thighs tense on either side of you, her hands locking behind your neck. She’s holding on tight, because you’re not giving her a choice, you’re not giving her anything but what she’s begging for.

You watch her face in the reflection of the car window—the way her mouth hangs open, the way her eyes flutter shut and then open again, searching for something, anything to keep her grounded.

"Fuck me like I’m yours,” Wonyoung pleads. “You own me? Then fucking treat me like you do. Treat me like I’m your fucking whore, daddy.”

It’s too much, all of it. Wonyoung: her face—those lips, her body—those fucking legs, her voice—the way she says your name, how she calls you daddy, like it’s a fucking curse. You’re so close to the edge now, so close to cumming again, cumming inside her. You can feel the beginnings of it, the tension coiling in your balls, the white creeping into your vision.

But she’s still talking—and so are you, you realise.

One of you cries out—holy shit—answered with a—so fucking good—followed by an exchange of—fuck yous—and—I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

It keeps going, this fucking, this using, this hating—whatever this is.

“I fucking hate you—”

“Hate you too—”

“Hate how good your cunt feels—”

“Hate how big your cock is—”

“Hate how perfect you are—”

“Hate how much I want your fucking cum—”

“Fucking slut—"

“Daddy—”

“I’m going to—"

"Please!"

And that’s it.

It’s over—your cock pulsing deep inside her, Wonyoung’s cunt clamping down around you, and you’re cumming—together—tightening and writhing and calling each other every name under the sun, except maybe the one that actually matters.

Wonyoung’s head falls back, losing control of her own body, the camera catching every glorious moment as she cums, her orgasm ripping through her in a scream that you feel in every inch of your body.

You kiss her—her tits, her neck, her jaw, her lips—claiming her, making sure she feels every drop of you. You hate her, you love her, you hate that you love her, you love that she needs you, you hate that you need her.

And all the while the camera keeps rolling, capturing your sweaty, heaving chests; capturing you filling her, spilling out of her, giving her the cum she so desperately pleaded for. It’s so much more intimate than any kiss, any love confession, any of that romantic shit she sings about.

But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

It’s every twitch, every shiver, every little pulse of your release flooding her. How she tenses and clenches around you, soaks you with her wetness, drowns you in her tight, drenched heat.

And she keeps calling you it—whispering it—‘daddy’—over and over again, even as she’s coming down from the high, even as she’s gasping for air, even as she’s forcing her tongue into your mouth.

Wonyoung slumps against you, your cum dripping out of her and down your cock, staining the leather of your car seats. You can feel the stickiness of it, the mess you’ve made together. It makes you want to do it all over again.

To make her say it again, to make her scream it again.

“You’re so fucking mine,” you murmur against her neck, kissing her collarbone, tasting the salt of her sweat.

Wonyoung just nods, too exhausted to argue, too satisfied to care. Her hand finds yours, weaves your fingers together, and you hold onto her, tight. It’s sickeningly sweet, and yet, despite your best efforts, the insult, the quip to break the spell doesn’t come.

Because in the end, you don’t want to kill the moment—not when it’s so perfect.

You don’t want to ruin it with talk of the real world, with the harshness of the light that’ll be waiting outside the car door.

You stay there, parked in the garage of her apartment building, the headlights dimming down to black. The air is thick with the smell of sex and sweat, the taste of it lingering on your tongues. It’s a bubble you’re both loath to burst—because once it does, once it pops, you’re just Wonyoung and some guy she fucking hates again.

“Thank you, daddy.” Wonyoung’s breathing slows, her grip on you loosens. She’s drifting off, the stress of the night and the alcohol finally claiming her.

You don’t know how long you sit there, the two of you tangled together. It’s quiet except for the occasional hum from her, a cute little sound that she’s probably unaware she makes. It’s soothing, almost sweet.

But reality has a way of crashing in, doesn’t it?

You know you can’t stay here forever. You know you’ve got to get her upstairs before someone sees, before the cameras (the dangerous ones, the ones you don’t own) spot you. Before the rest of the world catches up.

You ease her off your cock, she whines, her eyes struggling open. “Take me home,” she mumbles, still not fully coherent.

“Already am, baby,” you reply, gently untangling her body from yours.

With a bit of effort, you manage to get her into an almost presentable state—straightening her skirt, buttoning her shirt, dabbing the cum that’s pooled between her thighs. She watches you as you do it, through a hazy gaze, still recovering from being fucked into oblivion.

It’s an act. Partly at least. A way to save face—pretend that it’s only the exhaustion, that she doesn’t really need you, doesn’t really want to be taken care of like this. Doesn’t want to nuzzle her head into your shoulder, or hug you tight, or have you kiss her on the forehead and tell her that you’ve got her.

Tomorrow she’ll yell at you for it, probably call you an overbearing asshole for treating her like a delicate flower. Make fun of you for going soft, for totally falling under her spell.

(And sometime even later, in a moment when she’s all quiet and feeling vulnerable, right after you’ve fucked each other and hated each other and ended up holding each other for the millionth time, Wonyoung will say:

“You’re the only one who can keep up with me.”

You’ll know what she means right away; you’ll kiss her again and you’ll answer:

“I know.”)

Because despite the fact that when she wanted to be (and it was often), Jang Wonyoung could be a real fucking bitch, you’re also kind of in love with her.

And, if you were to ask her, she’d probably the same about you.

#kpop smut #wonyoung smut #ive smut #male reader

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calder · 2 months

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please reblog for sample size.

edit

good job dude

edit 2

i have been permanently banned from nukapedia for this post

edit 3

the following posts were screencapped and posted to nukapedia as the other reason for upgrading my 1yr ban to permanent

several patrollers have resigned in solidarity or disgust

you can read the bans and see for yourself, where admins repeatedly vaguely accuse me of presenting these messages under false pretense.

i was also harassed by a nukapedia admin on tumblr who attempted to delete the message before i could engage with it. when i mentioned it to the other acting admin, i was told to re-read the harassment so i might be a better person in a year.

further, a channel was collectively scolded last month by an admin who had been triggered upon being compelled to review the messages of the anti-Woke mod. during an argument, the mod had compared transness to blackface in defense of JK Rowling, earning him a 3-day ban. when i said i was traumatized from dealing with his targeted harassment of myself and my queer peers throughout pride month, i was accused of "emotionally manipulating admins"

all of this had begun two months ago when someone shared a personal anecdote about a racial microaggression they had experienced and wrapped it up with "such a white thing to say." for weeks thereafter, this woman was namedropped by the mod whenever racism came up, as an example of a racist. he would ultimately accuse her of being no better than a holocaust denier because she said "the far left is not associated with mass murder and bigotry."

during the mod's three-day ban he participated in the coordinated monitoring and harassment of a minor. the user sent five replies to the effect of "you are never to contact me in private" and "stop talking to me" before the mod stopped messaging him. this was not addressed when the mod was unbanned. however, the morning before this, the woman mentioned above was banned for leaving an incredulous emoji react face on a backhanded admin post targeting her.

the mod believes he is protecting the community from "reverse racism." he has also asked me if i "think hostility towards white people is justice" and when i excused myself from the conversation he asked if i was "triggered"

at one point i announced i would be absent for several days to attend a funeral. the mod invoked me by name and characterized me as a bad person while i was attending my grandmother's service

he remains on-staff, surrounded by silence. my 1yr ban was prompted by my confronting the community with proof of him stalking a minor, but that incident did not come up at all in the text of my ban

please reblog for public awareness. please show this to every fallout fan you know.

#fallout 76 #fnv #fallout 4

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planetsstarsandmoons · 1 year

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Synastry observations based on (personal) experience, part 5:

I’m back!!!! After months lmao

Moon opposite mars: a big ‘want’. Moon opposite mars is a story. It’s every romance movie/ romcom aspect, and i’ll tell you why. These people see in each other the potential of moon conjunct mars fullfillment that’s actually (way, but opinions differ ofc) better than the conjunction. That’s because in the opposition, each has something the other lacks. This can create for both people the ultimate romantic fullfilment when brought together by effort and acceptance of each other, and this promise is very hard to let go of. Typically, these are couples that fight a lot but find it very hard to let each other go once they know what they can have with each other, because it really is the best. Just think about it, even the thought of people putting conscious effort to be sweeter to one another is precious. That only creates a bond that’s very raw and very real (quoting jewelastrology here). Then combine that with the power of the mars and the moon and the friction of the opposition, keeping things interesting and keeping both parties learning more. You shouldn’t romanticise struggle in a relationship. Too much ‘work’ can just mean you aren’t compatible. THIS aspect is an exception. Just watch out for possible aggression. That’s never okay. One day I’ll make a seperate post about the amount of moon opposite mars couples in literature. The best I can think of now is Pride and Prejudice, with Mr Darcy being mars and Elizabeth Bennet being moon.

Venus twelfth house overlay: sorry y’all, in my personal experience, it’s true what they say. The twelfth house person has a hard time feeling this overlay on their side, or on a very subconscious level. I was the 12th house person. On one hand, I really ‘got it’ so to say but on the other hand, I don’t have a shitty clue of how he picked up on this ‘thing between us’ he thought or picked up on we had. That’s actually the big thing about this overlay. Don’t lose all hope, but you’ll have one person going “you knoww like there’s this thing between us...” and the 12th house person will be going: “what thing?” 😂 this can actually be nice because the 12th house person will get in touch with that subconscious twelfth housey part of themselves IF there are other nicely supporting aspects. Like the venus person’s venus to other stuff. They say a true connection is always mutual. I want to say to you all that don’t be surprised when a 12th house person in such an overlay is not ‘feeling’ this mutually. I literally wrote in my diary: “i might actually like him when it’s too late. Or just never lol i do not know.”

Update: I wrote this observation months ago in like april. It is now october and I’m starting to gain interest in him, albeit slowly and subconsciously, but, yeah 🤦‍♀️😂 i came back to this draft being like “WHATT?? Astrology had predicted this TOO for me???”

Moon trine pluto: you know when the fighting super intense troubled couple FINALLY gets together in this really intense and satisfying time when things are finally going the way they’re planned? Like an end all all good? That is this overlay, but constantly. On the outside, it’s the annoyingly passionate/emotional couple in a series that you don’t get because you haven’t seen them do any work to deserve this kind of intense fan-service scene. It’s because it lacked that kind of character development? It was me watching avengers infinity war with vision and wanda. I didn’t like the couple because i didn’t get it. I didn’t know their history i thought it was just some random very bland peaceful couple being very dramatic about each other all the time. Another example (i’m not shitting on this aspect i swear 😂) when a cartoon shows an example of a ‘romantic movie scene’ where the couple says “i loove you!!” And the other goes “oh bill!!” You don’t swoon because you’re like… okay. You get the oogies/ick because it’s like ‘ew that’s a couple’ anyways what I’m trying to say is that moon and pluto are not typical besties they’re supposed to be two problems kind of, they’re two very intense and bare planets, so harmonious flowing energy between them will feel kind of unsettling? Even. So these people will be kind of ‘gross’ with each other but in a soothing way. It’s how you imagine such a trine to be, but it plays out exactly like this irl too lmao! It feels bland on the outside because it’s always going well. And on the inside it plays in the background, because issues bring moon and pluto stuff to the foreground as a ‘theme’ in the relationship. So this aspect is also is the simple idea-of-a-passionate relationship. It’s the groaning “I’ll never let you go!!” Which doesn’t hit the same way for some people because there isn’t any drama or shit that happened before to deserve this pay off. However, some people loooove this aspect and by that I mean people in real life who like to have a secure and deep relationship where two hidden parts of people correspond and love each other well. This aspect is reaallly hard to let go of lol.

Sun conjunct mars: I call this the ‘spicy friends’ aspect. This is the aspect of two people who get into shenanigans together. I also see this aspect a lot with romantic couples who got together young, because it makes for boy-girl relations where the boy actually gets motivated by the person the girl is and the girl feels understood on the same level by the boy. They don’t get bored and so these people will forever get on or be aggravated by each other. It’s because these are two extremely conscious ‘in the moment’ planets so they easily fire off each other and it doesn’t take a lot of energy to have that interaction. No in between. It creates a certain ‘click’ that really motivates both for each other. Not in a deep/karmic way, but in a way that their behaviour connects easily and the energy gets going. It’s really easy to have good sex and interesting energy with this aspect so it’s a really potent aspect to get people together! Also fast, because conscious behaviour is accelerated by each other. I’m thinking dopamine..

Sun conjunct venus: unlike mars, venus is a cold planet, which is totally okay in a synastry, only the interaction plays out a little different. Sun and venus don’t fire off each other. Their influence on each other is more passive and more ‘internal’. The sun, how basic it may sound, warms venus or even makes them burn. Venus gives the sun person chills. The venus person is responsible for the harmony and awesome functionality that this aspect brings. They will take a step back to fully adore and admire sun from afar sometimes. The sun will run to venus basically when it feels it needs love and beauty and also a kind of sensibility that the sun person misses, like a puzzle piece, and the venus person is Thee person who brings that in their life. Vice versa is the sun person someone who personally signifies beauty and love in the eyes of venus, while it brings the heat that the venus craves. So they become passionate and adoring about who each other is. So venus typically loves every little thing the sun person does and the sun person is just taken by the venus person every single day. Think Oliver (venus) and Loretta (sun) from Only Murders In The Building. This aspect makes for real contentment in a relationship because of the strong loving connection that it brings.

Mars in twelfth house synastry or composite: with this placement, you’re not even sure if the person is actually even attracted to you and if you’re making it all up in your head. This is also typically seen as a ‘synastry/composite of secrets’ which I wasn’t so sure about at the time I experienced this one myself, but now I realise, hey, that man actually had a girlfriend while he was giving me ‘special attention’ while holding back, with me being like ‘what could he mean what could he MEAN’ typical mars in twelfth scenario. One guy I had this with in composite was basically lying to me about his sex life and not having cheated on his previous girlfriend… and guess what… I had lied about my sexual history too 😭 I even thought to myself ‘why the f*ck did I lie that elaborately??? I didn’t even have to??’ But whatever, it’s the way of the worlds apparently 😂 but you see how this immediately creates distrust when it is not actually what we mean to do or coming from a place of disrespect. Oh and this aspect in composite also created months of us being like ‘🧍🏻‍♀️….🧍🏻‍♂️’ not normal sexual tension, but sexual tension we weren’t sure should be concreticised out loud or in action. We’d only kissed once Monthsss before which is basically nothing in western european student culture. It was like: “does this person know I’m still, in this moment, attracted to/like him/her? Am I making this all up in my head?”

Moon in the 8th house: a lot has been said about this aspect. Just a few things: intensity, yes. Either one will always be a significant person for the rest the person’s lives. It’s not nothing. It’s the basis of real all consuming love that’s a very rare and unique mix between total safety and total rush-like danger, which makes people think it’s a soulmate aspect. It’s actually not, imo, it’s a deeply (deeeeply) karmic aspect. It’s funny to see all the friends with benefits who have this aspect start out as “lol we don’t want a relationship” to “……. Lol nevermind” and end up together. They go back to each other because they’re simply too significant to each other. Fear of being vulnurable is also big on both so they either take that step or they’re just standing there forever. Mutual aspect, but it’s mutual in different ways. Truthfully, I don’t see this aspect so often in relationship charts. I see it with people who are in love with each other and aren’t together, or people who started out casual but still for some reason can’t let each other go after more than a year, or people who have had the roughest most obsessive breakup in history and ask me for advice. Often, people in relationships who have this aspect don’t come to astrologers for advice. They’re too ‘into’ one another to do that, I feel like.

Venus trine moon: cute cute cUTE because the venus loves reassuring the moon person with affection, which makes the moon person feel so safe and endorphined and warm. The moon person simply inspires that in venus! Great for a chart with more difficult aspects !

Moon conjunct jupiter: so if a guy is jupiter and the moon is a woman and they’re married, the woman doesn’t need to worry about jupiter feeling turned off from the relationship by her pregnancy. Moon is the feminine, the nurturer, the mother, jupiter adores and respects her. Jupiter inspires respect, optimism, friendships and all things serotonin. Jupiter will make the moon feel good. The kind of union where the guy will constantly declare how much he lovees her pregnancy glow ✨ the same goes ofc for lesbian relationships but since this is a cultural phenomenon i thought i might touch on it.

Moon opposite jupiter: i feel like this might be the opposite story :/ the girls motherhood and need for support and needs in general will just be the opposite to what the jupiter person finds ‘fun’ and joyful, BUT if they’ve made it this far in the relationship as to have a child together it should be okay. At least the cause of the behaviour would moreso be astrology, not misogyny.

Moon square jupiter: wife jokes, but the ones that are cute and funny.

Moon in third:

Being someone with a moon in third house be like: wow imagine going through something hard and not type 10k words in your notes app about it.

Having your moon overlay in someone’s third house be like: wow imagine going through something and not telling that person 10k words about it

Also: jupiter has such an underrated influence on us in astrology!! Jupiter radiates the most energy out of all the planets in our solar system and may be way more personal and influential than we think in astrology… And in synastry also it’s the MOON

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delphoxqueen · 6 months

Text

The Osomatsu-San Iceberg 2.0!

(Click More For Full Explanation)

*- Take Caution When Researching

Tier 1-

Osomatsu-Kun- A Comedy Manga by Fujio Akatsuka which ran from 1962 to 1969 which followed a group of sextuplet (a multiple birth of six children) brothers. It was later adapted into two anime, one by Studio Zero in 1966 and another by Studio Pierrot in 1988 as well as spin-off by Studio Pierrot in 2015 titled “Osomatsu-San” which follows the sextuplets in their 20-somethings as NEETS.

Fourth-Wall Breaks- Osomatsu-San has multiple moments where the characters will break the fourth wall, such as in the first episode where the characters try to be a “proper anime”, or worship Fujio Akatsuka like a god.

Visual Distinguishers- The Matsuno Brothers have multiple visual distinguishers so the audience can more easily tell the brothers apart. Examples include: Signature Color, Hairstyles, and Facial Expressions. The brothers were given different colors supposedly because the character designer couldn’t tell the difference between them.

Parodies + References- The anime makes dozens of parodies and references to other anime/popular media such as Attack on Titan, Saw, Demon Slayer, Naruto, and Sailor Moon. The anime’s extreme popularity in Japan also led to other anime to parody and reference Osomatsu-San including The Disastrous Life of Saiki K, Love Rice, and JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure. Osomatsu-San has too many references to other anime and there’s too many references to Osomatsu-San from other media, so I just included it as one entry.

NEET- A common acronym in Japan which stands for Not in Education, Employment, or Training, but also includes anyone who is not engaged in housework, unemployed, not seeking work, and not in any school or work-related training.

F6- The F6 are the idealized version of the Matsuno brothers that parody pretty-boy anime. The “F” in F6 stands for Fujio, as in Fujio Akatsuka, the creator of the original manga. In the first episode, their first appearance, Ichimatsu transforms into a hybrid stylization of the 2015 anime and the 1966 anime, but in the season finale they are seen alongside the Matsuno brothers, implying they are separate characters.

___Matsu Boys and Girls- The fan term for each of the six brothers, based on Karamatsu’s line calling his fans his “Karamatsu girls and boys”.

Banned 1st Episode- The 1st episode of the anime was banned in Japan due to copyright law, as Japan has no clause for parody and has a more strict interpretation of fair use. It was never confirmed which company filed a copyright infringement against Osomatsu-San, but there is a theory that the Attack on Titan parody was the main culprit. The episode has still not been released on physical media and all streaming services do not carry the first episode, instead beginning the series on the second episode.

The Osomatsu-San Movie- Released on March 15th 2019, the movie follows the brothers traveling back in time to meet their high school selves and to resolve one of the brothers’ biggest regrets.

Collab Ad Campaigns- Osomatsu-San has collaborated with dozens of other brands on merchandise/advertisement campaigns. Many of these collaborations have created special events and merchandise for Osomatsu-San. Examples include: Ministop, Sweets Paradise, Dohtonbori Okonomiyaki, and Sanrio.

Akatsuka’s 80th- Osomatsu-San was created in honor of Fujio Akatsuka’s 80th Birthday and death, having died at 72 in 2008.

Todomatsu Face Meme- In the episode “Todomatsu and the 5 Demons” Todomatsu makes a face at his brothers for talking to the Sutabaa baristas, which has become a meme that has even spread outside the Osomatsu-San fandom.

Tier 2-

Homura-Chan is a Porn Actress- Although nothing is stated outright, it is heavily implied in her first episode appearance that she is a porn actress as Osomatsu finds a porn movie and seems surprised by the cover before going on to have a conversation with Jyushimatsu which Jyushi ultimately avoids.

Karamatsu Wears Contacts- A fun fact that few in the fandom seem to remember is that Karamatsu wears contact lenses. Although he (and all the Matsuno Brothers) have brown eyes, he wears brown contacts, but the presumed reason he wears contacts is because circle contacts (mainly worn by cosplayers and Japanese teen girls) make eyes look bigger and cuter- which is why Osomatsu insults him for wearing them.

Episode 3.5- Also titled “Episode 3.5: Virgin Heroes”, an episode was created to be put on home media releases to replace the 1st episode due to the ban. It is chronologically after Episode 3 but before Episode 4 and has two segments. The first segment features the F6 in a parody commercial, with the second focusing on Choromatsu seeing a group of college kids having a barbecue and being visited by the Cherry Boys (the other five Matsuno brothers in Power-Ranger parody outfits)

BLMatsu- A fandom term for incest ships involving the Matsuno brothers romantically or sexually. BL stands for Boys Love, which is a popular anime and manga term for gay male pairings typically aimed at women. Common ships include OsoChoro and KaraIchi.

Broken Heart Tongue- A small detail in the series is that whenever Jyushimatsu is depicted smiling, his tongue is in the shape of a heart, but in the episode “Jyushimatsu’s Girlfriend” when Jyushimatsu is crying at Chibita’s Oden stand, his tongue is a broken heart.

Matsus Unknown Age- The brothers’ age has never been specified in the Osomatsu-San anime. They are said to “not be older than 24 or 25” and that their parents have been married 24 years and they were born soon after, so they have been assumed to be around 24 but it has never been confirmed.

Girlymatsus not Related- A common misconception in the fandom is that the Girlymatsus are sisters, or the earlier fan theory in Season 1 that they are the Matsuno brothers in drag- but the Girlymatsus were later confirmed just to be friends.

An Anecdote With Horses- An exclusive episode made in collaboration with the Japan Racing Association (JRA) which aired on December 16th, 2016 which featured skits of the Matsuno brothers racing horses.

English Dub Production Issues- After Viz Media acquired the rights to Osomatsu-San, it came out in September 2020 that the English Dub of Osomatsu-San was delayed to be reworked as well as having to replace Christopher Niosi (Choromatsu’s original VA) with Sean Chiplock, due to abuse allegations which Christopher later confessed to.

4th ED is the only ED without stop-motion- While the majority of the Osomatsu-San ending themes feature stop-motion using a variety of items such as toys, clothing, and food; the 4th ending (the second ending of the second season) uses slow-motion footage of paint being dumped onto busts of the Matsuno brothers.

Pine Tree- The kanji for “Matsu” translates to Pine Tree, which is why the pine tree symbol is so frequent in the show’s iconography, such as in the title and on the brothers’ sweaters.

The Hipipo Tribe and The Glistening Fruit- The first of two movies released to celebrate the sixth anniversary of the anime, which features the brothers journeying to find a fruit which grants wishes before encountering the Hipipo Tribe.

Hatabou’s Meat- In the episode “Tell Us, Hatabou”, Hatabou sells meat out of a variety of vendors, but when the brothers ask what kind of meat it is he refuses to answer. Earlier in the episode his employees try to boot him from the company, which leads to his new business venture, implying that the meat is of his former employees though it is never stated outright within the show.

The Soul’s Takoyaki Party and The Legendary Sleepover Party- The second of the two movies released to celebrate the sixth anniversary of the anime, which features the brothers hosting a takoyaki (grilled dough balls with octopus inside with a variety of toppings) party which turns into a sleepover.

Hair Color Change- In the original series Osomatsu-Kun, both the 60s and 80s, the brothers had brown hair but in Osomatsu-San they are depicted with black hair.

Tier 3-

May 24th- The Birthday of the Matsuno Brothers.

Fandubs- Due to the long development time and many delays of the official English Dub, there are multiple fandom dubs of the anime.

Fan Vocaloids- The Osomatsu-San fandom has many popular fan vocaloid covers, some of the most well-known including Matryoshka, Normie Eradication Committee, Rolling Girl, and LOVE 1000%.

Hesokuri Wars/Tabimatsu- Also known as “Osomatsu-San Hesokuri Wars -Battle of the NEETS-“ is tower-defense style strategy mobile game that was released in Japan in 2016 and later being released in English in 2017, before being shut down on October 2nd of 2022 to make way for Tabimatsu. Players would choose a team of 10 characters to fight through stages, with dozens of exclusive events and character variations being released. Many popular AUs in the fandom were inspired by sets released for Hesokuri Wars.

Each Brother’s Name Meaning- Osomatsu translates to lame, or Osoi which means slow- referring to him being the most “basic” of the brothers and lazy. Kara can mean emptiness, referring to his narcissism and chasing his brothers’ approval. Choroi translates to simple, referring to his more average personality. Ichimatsumuyo means checkered pattern (along the lines of a Go board). Jyushimatsu translates to society finch, which are known to be kind like Jyushi. Todomatsu meaning Manchurian fir or “finally”, as “finally” was his catchphrase in the original 60s anime.

Jyushimatsu’s Catchphrase Change- In the first season Jyushimatsu’s main catchphrase was “Muscle Muscle, Hustle Hustle” but in season two and onwards, it was changed more to “Booeh.” There wasn’t any explanation given by the show staff as to why it was changed.

Letter’s Contents- The entire letter Choromatsu had written in “Letter” was never revealed, with only one or two lines spoken by Choromatsu at the beginning of the skit describing what he’d written before later modifying it, leading fans to speculate exactly what was written.

Brothers are pure evil- At the end of the episode “Godmatsu”, in order to defeat Godmatsu the brothers combine their darkness to create Akamatsu. Once Godmatsu is defeated, they absorb only Akamatsu back into themselves, therefore only being made of their evil self. This possibly explains their more violent nature after this point in the series.

AOP Breakup- AOP is an idol group that formed in 2012 under the agency Nikkei Entertainment. The group created multiple songs for the anime, including the theme songs “Zenryoku Batankyu wa Yoiko Dake”, “Hanamaru Pippi wa Yoiko Dake”, “Maboroshi Wink”, and “nice to NEET You!” On December 14th, 2020 the band stated they would be ceasing activities before disbanding in 2021.

Sakurai Drama- Takahiro Sakurai is the original VA for Osomatsu who admitted in 2022 to having cheated on his wife for 10 years, planning to eventually marry his affair partner. Due to this scandal, Osomatsu-San content has been delayed for the past two years.

Religionmatsu- A popular AU which depicts the Matsu brothers as gods, devils, angels, and clergymen. One of the few AUs which was created by the fandom and not inspired by a Hesokuri Wars set.

Sickfics- A fanfiction genre in which one character cares for another who is sick. These fanfics are particularly popular in the Osomatsu-San fandom because of the episode “We Caught a Cold” in which all of the brothers catch a cold and each have a moment to care for the others.

Matsuno Family Dependents- A “wallpaper simulator” type mobile game where the player collects variants of the Matsu brothers and raises them.

Dekapanman- A Parody of Anpanman in which Dekapan dresses up as a hero that gives items from pants to children which was significantly censored due to the controversy and copyright infringement caused by the parody.

Shueisha Manga- Beginning in 2016, a manga series was released alongside the anime. Published by Shueisha in the magazine You from 2016 to 2018 then Cookie from 2018 to 2020 with 10 volumes of stories not featured in the anime.

Only Child Theory- Theory that states that Osomatsu is an Only child with a personality disorder that causes him to develop different personalities that are “his brothers”. As the first known sextuplets to have been born and all survive were born in 1974, many years after the original 60s anime aired. The skit “Sanematsu” is often used as proof for this theory.

Tier 4-

Stage Shows- “Osomatsu-San on Stage: SIX MEN’S SHOW TIME” is a musical adaptation of the original anime, with three seasons matching the anime and having been released on home media.

Episode 10 Controversy- There are some reports of Episode 10 causing controversy upon release for having characters transition to women for personal gain. (Though I will admit, in my research I could not find any comments/posts accusing the show of being transphobic. The only slight criticism I could find was of the ending being too harsh towards Chibita and Iyami’s actions and the episode’s pacing being too slow. I am not claiming that the controversy does or does not exist, or that the episode is or isn’t offensive, I just could not find any evidence in my research of people taking offense to it.)

More Than 6 Brothers- Theory that there are more than 6 brothers as in some scenes in the anime and some promotional material it appears that there’s more than 6 brothers. Though there are episodes in the anime in which another brother is accepted into the group or created such as Godmatsu or Akamatsu.

Where is Orange Matsu?- The brothers all fit the primary (Red- Osomatsu, Yellow- Jyushimatsu, Blue- Karamatsu) and secondary (Green- Choromatsu, Purple- Ichimatsu) colors with the exception of orange as Todomatsu’s main color is pink. This has led some to theorize that there is a secret orange brother. The show creators stated that they made Todomatsu’s color pink to make his style more feminine and youthful, as well as to show that he’s intentionally trying to not fit in with his brothers by not following the same pattern.

Pazzmatsu- AKA Puzzlematsu is a match-3-tiles puzzle mobile game released in Japan in 2016 which continued until April 2018 when it was rebooted as “New Pazzmatsu”.

Doramatsu- A series of audio drama CDs that include unique stories that did not appear in the anime.

Matsus Stay Dead After S2- In the finale of Season 2, the brothers die from a plane crash and are sent to hell for their numerous misdeeds. This theory posits that the brothers stayed dead after the end of season two and that season three is their personal hell. This is a joke theory to explain season three’s shift in focus.

Osomatsu-San the Live-Action Movie- A Live-Action movie with a unique story based on Osomatsu-San with members of the J-Pop group Snow Man playing the Matsu brothers.

Brothers can’t be told apart in 1st promo- In the first promotional image released for the anime, the brothers’ personalities and visual distinguishers hadn’t been ironed out yet so long-time fans of the series noticed that it’s near impossible to distinguish which brother is which in the image. The only brother that is able to be identified is the center brother holding Karamatsu’s signature glasses.

Osomatsu-Kun Grows Up- Technically Osomatsu-San is an alternate universe to the original Osomatsu-Kun series canon, as in 1993 a beer ad was published showing what the Matsu brothers became when they reached adulthood. Osomatsu becomes a salaryman, Karamatsu marries a grocer’s daughter and helps with the family business, Choromatsu becomes a policeman, Ichimatsu marries and becomes a CEO, Jyushimatsu becomes a doctor, and Todomatsu works in a fish market.

Light Novels- Osomatsu-San has spawned a handful of Light Novels and short stories with plots not included in the anime. Examples include: Osomatsu-San the Beforematsu and Aftermatsu, VS Kochikame, and Shut Up Osomatsu.

April Fools- To celebrate April Fools, Osomatsu-San has released multiple fake announcements and fake Tabimatsu sets. This includes the 2015 announcement that the series would be releasing a new Osomatsu-Kun project, the 2017 announcement that a live-action adaptation starring the Byplayers would replace the anime, and the 2019 Tabimatsu set with a Irasutoya art style.

Yamano to Matsuno- The last name of the family was originally Yamano but was changed to Matsuno last minute as Yamano was considered a more “generic” last name.

Tier 5-

Date or Work- Also known as “Osomatsu-San the Game” is an adventure game released in Japan in 2017 for the PSVita. The story has you play as a heroine who gets calls and texts from the brothers asking for advice on their quest to get a job.

Karamatsu is Bisexual- In the first Osomatsu-San movie Karamatsu says “Sorry to keep you waiting, Karamatsu girls and boys!” Also in a drama CD Karamatsu reads off a love poem that he wrote to a male convenience store worker named Kumada Youji. It’s still debated whether the drama CD is canon to the anime and if the line in the movie was just referring to his fans in a non-romantic or sexual sense.

Recycled Scripts- Some of the episodes such as “Iyami, Alone in the Wind”, “ESP Kitty”, and ”The Life of Chibita’s Flower” were based off of chapters of Osomatsu-Kun modified to fit the series. Some skits from Season 3 were also based off of Doramatsu tracks.

Do Matsu’s Smoke?- A topic of debate in the Western fandom, Karamatsu is shown to smoke in multiple episodes and Osomatsu has been shown to be surrounded by cigarette boxes previously but it hasn’t been stated whether the other four brothers smoke.

Brothers had freckles- In the original Akatsuka designs for the brothers, they were designed to have freckles on their cheeks as well as other different facial features. These were changed to make the faces look more cute and easier to draw.

Ichi’s Personality given to Todomatsu- Ichimatsu’s Personality was going to be more snarky and rude than his current more doom and gloom. His characterization was instead given to Todomatsu by Miyu Irino’s suggestion, thinking that the youngest brother being catty would be funnier.

Life-Sized Statues- For the 2016 Summer Wonder Festival, the company Figurex 3D printed life-size statues of the six brothers, with smaller versions of the figures being sold at the event as well. While some have reappeared at Osomatsu-San events, such as the Ichimatsu figure, some have not been seen since their original showcase; this has led fans to search for the statues current locations. There is a link to buy one of the statues from one of the Japanese websites that first reported the event, but the link is now dead and leads to an error page.

Osomatsu-Kun Video Game- AKA “Osomatsu-Kun: Nonsense Theater” is a platforming video game released for the Sega Mega Drive in 1988 based on the original Osomatsu-Kun manga to promote the upcoming anime. The game only had a total of three levels with confusing level design and bad controls that caused it to gain an infamous reputation. It has recently gained a cult following as a kusoge (a Japanese video game that is celebrated for its awful quality.)

Cheaper by the Dozen- The manga was originally loosely based on the TV Show “Cheaper By the Dozen” (an American film from 1950 about a couple and their 12 children) with there being 12 children, but Akatsuka found it too hard to fit 12 characters in a single panel so he decided to cut the amount in half. Eventually changing it to be identical sextuplet brothers.

Denki Mystery- A popular AU that started as a Hesokuri Wars set. As opposed to other Hesokuri Wars sets, Denki Mystery had an entire storyline based on mystery novels, David Lynch films, and Japanese horror.

Iyami + Dekapan Made By Akatsuka’s Assistant- Both the characters Iyami and Dekapan were created by Fujio Akatsuka’s Assistant and later added to the manga.

Rice balls are Govt plants/Destroy NEETS Theory- Theory that the Riceballs were created by the government to reform NEETs to be functioning members of society.

Tier 6-

Six Same Faces #3 Song in Japan- On the week of December 28th, 2015 the song SIX SAME FACES ～今夜は最高!!!!!!~ (the first ending song of the first season) reached #3 on the Billboard Hot 100 in Japan, following the album’s release on December 16th, 2015.

Clone Theory- Theory that states that the brothers were cloned from Osomatsu. (I will admit I cannot find my previous evidence of this theory, if anyone does have proof of someone creating this theory or evidence for the theory please let me know.)

Sheeh Was a Real Trend- Iyami’s catchphrase/punchline used to be a cultural meme when Osomatsu-Kun was big in Japan. Famous figures to imitate Iyami include Godzilla and John Lenon from The Beatles.

VR Game- A virtual reality game collab that ran in Anime Plaza Machida and Adore’s Sunshine Store from 2017 to 2018 in which the player would hang out with the Matsu brothers in the bathhouse. It was later released theatrically as “Movies in VR!” in 2018 with “Evangelion: Another Impact”.

Fesmatsu- To celebrate each season’s release, a festival was thrown which would feature live action skits performed by the voice cast.

Todo is the hardest to animate- According to some of the animators who worked on the first season of the anime, Todomatsu was the hardest to animate of the six brothers because of his more feminine and youthful mannerisms.

Pachinko Games- Pachinko (an arcade gambling game) Games made in collaboration with Osomatsu-San, typically reusing animation from the anime though some have original animation exclusive to particular pachinko games. Examples include: Pachislot: Osomatsu-San, Pachislot: Osomatsu-San ~The Surprise~, & CR Osomatsu-San THE Drum.

Korean Dub Censorship- Due to South Korea’s strict censorship laws, Osomatsu-San was heavily censored by completely removing shots or scenes that featured characters being nude or wearing swimsuits. Some of the ridiculous censoring goes to the point where if a character is wearing a bikini, the entire screen will be cropped to only show their chin and up. Any scenes including nudity, swearing, violence, and sexual references were cut from airing or censored to hell and back (which to be fair is 99% of Osomatsu-San.)

Browser Games- Games that were available through Yahoo, some which were ported to AU SmartPass in the Osomatsu-San NEET Collection. Some examples include: Quiz Battle, Pleasing Totoko-Chan, & Osomatsu-SAN’s Black Factory.

Love Letter Board Game- A board game which players play as the brothers trying to woo Totoko-Chan.

*Matsuno Official Sex Toys- In collaboration with Kanojo Toys, a Japanese adult toy manufacturer, two dildos replicating Ichimatsu’s and Jyushimatsu’s canon lengths were released. The items were meant to be gag gifts but sold better than expected. The official website mocking Jyushimatsu’s girth and Ichimatsu’s length. “Hand massagers” of the other four brothers were also released. I hope y’all like this iceberg because now I’m being aggressively marketed at Japanese sex toys for researching everything on here.

S3E10 Aired on Crunchyroll before Japan- The tenth episode of the third season of the anime was delayed from airing as the channel was broadcasting the TV Tokyo Live 2020 U.S. Women’s Open which had previously been delayed due to rain. Though due to an error, the episode was released on time on streaming platforms early.

Tier 7-

Dmatsu-San- An internet series animated with Flash that aired on NTT DoComo to tie in with season 2 of the anime. The series includes 12 episodes, each at a minute’s length. Each episode features one of the sextuplets interacting with either Totoko or Iyami.

# of Dayons- In the episode “Let’s Get a Job” the brothers work in a factory that is revealed to be creating Dayons or clones of Dayon- as well as in the episode “Dayon Tribe” it’s shown that there’s an entire society living within Dayon’s stomach. This has led fans to question how many Dayons there are in the world of the anime, or if every appearance of Dayon is a different Dayon.

Sheeh-Wave- An internet radio series with the VA for Iyami interviewing other voice actors in character as Iyami. Having two seasons with the first airing from 2015 to 2016 and the second airing from 2017 to 2018 broadcast on Animate.TV.

*PASH Reveals Matsunos fetishes- In a magazine interview with the VAs for the Matsu brothers, each of their VAs had to guess their character’s fetish. Osomatsu- Boobs, Karamatsu- “As long as there’s love”, Choromatsu- “I won’t say” or humiliation as said in a Drama CD, Ichimatsu- Paw pads, Jyushimatsu- “Eh?”, Todomatsu- legs and bellybutton wrinkles.

2 Withheld Skits- 2 skits that were removed after the Dekapanman apology. Presumably parodies of other Japanese children’s media, but no information about what they were have been released.

The Red String of Fate Lost Fan Song- A fan vocaloid that was released on YouTube and Niconico Douga that featured a thumbnail with the sextuplets laying in a circle with a red string connecting them together. The red string wraps around Osomatsu’s finger and forms a heart in Todomatsu’s hands. The song had the brothers sing about their connection together before bursting into tears at the song’s climax. The video has been taken down since 2020 and is now lost media.

*Fetishmatsu- The part of the Osomatsu-San community that creates fetish media featuring Osomatsu-San characters. Please take caution when researching further, because I’m not messing up my search history any further.

*Live-Action Matsu Porn- Osomatsu-San being such a popular series, multiple live-action porn videos featuring the Osomatsu-San characters (mainly featuring Karamatsu & Ichimatsu). Examples include: Karamatsu Maturbates for You, IchiKara Hajimeyo!, and Ichimatsu Spanks It.

*Amputee Karamatsu- An infamous piece of fetishmatsu art that depicts Karamatsu with his legs cut off.

Osomatsu-Sanpo- A Pokemon-GO style game where players would find and catch different variations of the sextuplets through AR on their mobile device. It only ran from February to September 2017.

Swimsuit Hesokuri Set- An unreleased Hesokuri set which has the Matsu brothers wearing pretty plain-looking one-piece bathing suits. Possibly used for testing out game mechanics in updates.

What Does Sheeh Mean?- Iyami’s catchphrase which he will scream out when surprised. When asked what the phrase meant, Fujio Akatsuka never answered, leaving the phrase a mystery to this day.

*IchiKara Endurance Battle- An infamous doujinshi piss fic with Ichimatsu and Karamatsu having an “endurance battle.” Please take caution when researching further.

*Periodmatsu- An image of a Matsu brother drawn in period blood on someone’s thigh posted by the account “Periodmatsu”. It is debated whether the image was faked or real. Often confused for Period Drama Osomatsu-San, an episode from the second season of the anime.

*Banana Milky Way (Meiboku)- An infamous beastiality doujinshi with Ichimatsu and the tiger from S1E10.

*Assault Machine Gun- An infamous 2016 doujinshi by Tellmin in which the Matsu brothers are sexually assaulted and r*ped for not being able to pay their debts to Chibita.

Rejected Bathhouse Quiz Short- A rejected skit from “Christmas Osomatsu-San”. Airing only at the 2017 Spring Nationwide Invitational Screening Festival alongside clips of each Matsu brother depending on which room you entered. Now considered to be lost media.

*Todokaras- An infamous member of the fandom that scammed their fans/followers, groomed minors, promoted beastiality, abused animals, and claimed victimhood. This is just *some* of their behavior. Please take caution when researching further.

Thank you all for all of your support and patience, if you have any questions I will try to answer to the best of my ability!

#osomatsu san #mr osomatsu #ososan #osomatsu matsuno #choromatsu matsuno #jyushimatsu matsuno #mr. osomatsu #karamatsu matsuno #todomatsu matsuno #Osomatsu San iceberg #osomatsu #karamatsu #Choromatsu #ichimatsu matsuno #ichimatsu #jyushimatsu #todomatsu

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specialagentartemis · 27 days

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ykw i am having so much fan watching you be a hater, that i’ve decided to ask for more. PLEASE give us a rant about a book you hated.

Haha aw I'm honored. And uh I hope you don't have any particular attachment to Becky Chambers. Sorry in advance.

But A Psalm for the Wild-Built won a Hugo and I do not get the love. Book 1 was nice enough, yeah. Book 2 had me tearing my hair out.

Sibling Dex is a restless Tea Monk who serves the God of Small comforts on the science-fantasy planet of Panga. I genuinely love the idea of a tea monk - part therapist, part confessor, travels around to the different towns, mixes tea blends for people, lets them talk about their worries and fears and stresses, and gives them, if not advice, then sympathy and a listening ear and some calming tea. This is meaningful work but they're unhappy. After doing this for a while they're still unsatisfied with their life, so they go into the woods searching for self-actualization, and meet a robot named Mosscap, a wild robot that lives in the woods. See, hundreds of years ago, all the robots "woke up" and became sentient one day, then they staged a quiet rebellion against humanity's greed and industrialization by walking into the woods and never coming back. Now, the continent is split in half: humans stay on the Human Side, and robots stay on the Robot Side. The Robot Side is kept wild and humans are discouraged from going in there because humans can't be trusted not to ruin Nature. The rpbots are welcome to come to the Human Side, they just never have. Dex is the first person in a While to venture into the woods of the Robot Side, and the first human since the great walkout to see a robot. Mosscap gives Dex a lot of philosophical pep talks about not pushing themself so hard, about allowing themself to just rest and appreciate the world without feeling like they need to be Providing A Service to justify their existence. It's a nice theme. Underbaked, imo, but nice. Relateable.

Book 2 was a goddamn mess.

Book 1 mostly takes place in the wilderness of the woods, so it's okay if the nice utopian human community Dex comes from was sketchily-built. It Just Works, and everyone Is Just Nice, this is a science-fantasy parable. There were some issues I had with it - like the strict ideological and physical divide between Nature and Humans, and the fact that Dex's religion seems to be the Only Religion In The World, and it's vaguely secular-humanist with the gods being not "really" gods but names given to primordial forces and philosophical concepts, and the religion not really making any demands of its adherents in any way except to become their best selves and devote themselves to what they like... it's potentially interesting, but overall kinda lazy. It felt like Becky Chambers was aware of the idea that having an enlightened-atheist sci-fi utopia is Problematic, so she made there be a central religion, but she also didn't want it to have any of the ~icky~ things religions have, like belief in anything supernatural, or dietary restrictions, or creeds, or codes of behavior, or expectations to make any kind of sacrifice in any way. All the gods "ask" is that humans observe and appreciate the world. But whatever.

In book 2, Dex and Mosscap return to Dex's society, and the book seems to want to explain how the world works, and oh my GOD is Chambers not prepared to do this.

"Observe and appreciate" is all anyone is asked to do. Book 2, A Prayer for the Crown-Shy, is an ode to ultimate virtue of Doing Nothing. There's this attitude I see in a LOT of utopian fiction, where the author is bluntly just not a good enough author to imagine a utopian society where people act like people, so in the world of Panga, utopian society is achieved through 1) homogeneity 2) no one giving a crap about anything.

As far as I can tell, there is the one religion. Most people are Fine with this. Most people are Fine with anything. There are no characters with distinct personalities. There's no money, except there is, except it's not real money and no one will deny you anything if your balance is in the red, even though your balance is available to be seen by anyone - this does not cause any kind of shame or pride or competition in any way, and Dex doesn't understand why it might. There are no hierarchies or governing bodies, people just volunteer to step up when things need doing (this is portrayed as great and not deeply concerning). There are different communities, but in them, everyone is uniformly nice, friendly, and helpful at all times. There are some parts of nature, like the seashore, where people are not allowed to go because they'll ruin the environment, and this is accepted as correct and necessary. Most people live in hippie, pro-recycling, high-tech, end-of-history green communities; there's one group they visit, however, that doesn't trust technology, and lives in a vaguely sci-fi-Amish way. You might think, Dex travelling around with a robot, this might cause conflict! It does not. The people from this community calmly explain their anti-technology position, Dex calmly explains their pro-technology position, and they politely respect each other. "Not bothered either way" is a phrase that turns up in various permutations a lot and is held up as the good, mature, responsible way to be.

There's a scene where they catch a fish for dinner, and instead of killing it, the scifi-Amish guy says "We let the air do that for us, and they let the fish slowly suffocate to death in the air while they all look on solemnly and sadly. This is portrayed as a deep, beautiful moment of them witnessing and honoring the final moments of a living being's life. And not. y'know. them torturing a living being to death so they can keep their own hands clean.

This is what I mean about the valorization of passivity: observing is all you are ever obligated to do. Letting a fish die in the air is better than killing it quickly and humanely, because doing things gets your hands dirty, while letting things simply happen is the Correct way to do it.

At the end, Mosscap and Dex blow off all their promises and appointments and just hang out at the beach chilling out instead, because do what you want forever, you don't have to do shit. This is the happy affirming ending. Mosscap you fucking said you'd meet with the city leaders as the robot ambassador to the humans, did you tell them you were blowing off this commitment because you didn't feel like doing that anymore??? Did you even let them know??????

It is SUCH a baffling book. The theme wants to be "you are more than your job, you deserve to just Be" and ends up feeling like "you don't have to do anything ever, and no one can make you do anything you don't want to do if you don't feel like it, and you don't owe anyone anything and searching for a purpose in your life is just making you stressed out so chill at the beach instead."

The thing that drives me crazy is like. Mosscap cheerfully tells Dex about robots that spend twenty years in a cave watching stalactites form because they think it's beautiful, and those robots are just as much a valued part of society as anyone else. Appreciating beauty and wonder is good enough, you don't need to be productive. And I'm just. fuckin. like. Humans are not robots! Robots don't need to eat or sleep! Humans need food, and clothes, and shelter, and medical care, and if we don't have SOMEONE working to provide that, we Die! Nice as it would be, we CAN'T just all do nothing forever until we feel like it! We can't do that!

And at the same time, the book bizarrely treats wanting a purpose in life as like... almost disordered. If you are seeking a purpose in life it's because you just haven't let go of your guilt and relaxed enough. It's bizarre. Valorization of passivity. Humans aren't meant to be in nature so we just Shouldn't. Doing nothing and having no strong opinions is the most self-affirmed you can possibly be. Letting a fish suffocate is more moral than quickly breaking its neck or spiking its brain. Someone else will do it. Who, if we're all supposed to be resting and only doing what we feel like? Don't worry about it.

"The heart of this book is comfort [...] There is nothing in it that can hurt you." YOU LIAR BECKY CHAMBERS THE FISH SCENE STILL DISTURBS AND UPSETS ME TO THIS DAY

#Monk and Robot #books #sorry to the fans #asks #serenity-the-firefly

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inuyashaluver · 3 months

Note

MORE MAYA PLEASE 🙏🙏

handsy - maya le tissier

maya le tissier x reader

description: in which your best friend is an extremely handsy defender, completely testing the limits of your friendship when you contemplate if it really is platonic

warnings: nothing really!

a/n: you do not have to tell me twice. maya le tissier has my heart. thank you and please enjoy! ❤️ i haven't written for maya dearest in soooooo long, it was much needed!!

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

maya le tissier has a problem, and it was a problem she didn't even know she had.

she’d been told by countless people that this problem was going to lead her into trouble, but how was she supposed to fix it if she didn't know what the problem was?

this problem that maya had, you were no stranger to, in fact you were the one always caught in the crossfire of it. and this was your best friend’s incredibly handsy self.

maya le tissier was extremely touchy and affectionate with everyone, but mainly you, and it was starting to drive you insane.

—

it’s always been like this, being best friends with maya and then questioning your whole relationship with how touchy she was.

whether it was a simple touch on the arm or a prolonged hug that had your heart beating out of your chest, you were confused. she was confusing you. heavily.

you both met in the youth england teams, bonding because you were the same age. both similar yet different, a perfect balance that had many people envious of the relationship you had carefully constructed with each other.

ever since you were both 15, you've pulled your hair out in frustration over the brunette, something she wasn't even aware of.

“hey, babe” maya flopped down next to you in your cubby at the u17’s lionesses, she placed a warm hand on your thigh, kissing your cheek gently.

your cheek filled with pink from the contact of her lips against your skin, desperately hoping she doesn't point out how flushed you looked right now.

“hi, may” you chuckle, feeling maya’s arm slip behind you around your back, pulling you directly into her side. “you look gorgeous, as usual” she smiles, gently budging your shoulder with hers.

you look over at her in surprise, flattered by her words but also incredibly shy about them.

“i’m wearing the same thing as you” you point out, a hint of teasing laced in your words. “yeah but you always look way better” she winks, her arm moving from your back to rest on your thigh, fiddling with the end of your shorts.

your breath hitched a little, was she clueless or was she strategic?

“you okay?” she asks, handing your your water bottle, “you look a little flushed” she said with genuine concern, answering your earlier question, the girl was clueless.

“i'm all good! just a little warm” you excused, fanning your hands for added effect, maya’s eyebrows quirk but she chose to believe you.

the brunette grabbed a random paper from the cubby next to yours, fanning you down diligently, asking you constantly if you were okay. and if this doesn't sum up your ultimate confusion with your best friend, you don't know what will.

—

you were both signed to manchester united as well as the senior england team so that bond between the both of you only grew tenfold.

it was impossible for the two of you to be apart, mainly because you now lived together and that was an ultimate struggle.

each and every moment of your lives were together, it was a rare occasion to see the two of you separated, and thus, the rumours surrounding your relationship only grew larger, it was really taking its toll on you.

the thing is, there were numerous moments where you truly thought maya liked you back, how could you not?

there were occasions where she looked at you in a way that made your heart flutter, the petnames, the acts of service, and especially the way she would talk about you in interviews.

—

“yeah, thats a great question! i definitely think my biggest form of motivation is my (y/n), shes absolutely amazing inside and out and i just love her. to be honest, i don’t think i would be where i am without her and i know it's the same for her, well i hope” she laughs, thanking the interviewer again for the question.

ella and alessia, the ones that had to see everything under the magnifying glass knew this would drive you insane.

they sent you the video before having a group facetime call where they intricately analysed each word, each facial expression and they concluded the girl was in love with you.

and you concluded that you were in love with her, and something needed to happen, immediately.

—

you were at camp with england, mary begging you and maya to join alessia and her in a tiktok video, something about hot shots?

you weren't really listening, maya was drawing shapes on your back and therefore no coherent thoughts were present in your mind, and so here you all were, set up in a line in front of mary’s phone.

you and maya couldn’t stop giggling in the corner, making mary and alessia stare at you both with amused smiles until you nudged maya’s thigh with your own, hushing your giggles as best as you could.

“now that they're done, hello everyone, we’ve got a challenge for, me, alessia, maya and little (y/n) today” mary snickers, you scoff after she finishes her sentence.

“alright?” alessia chuckles, “what did you call me little for?” you point at mary, making her press her finger against yours that you couldn't help but laugh at.

“you’re the youngest” mary teases, “maya is three months older than me?” you exclaim, nudging maya for backup but the girl only gave you a cheeky smile back.

“oh whatever, go on” you roll your eyes, maya grins at you, squeezing your hand quickly before letting it go.

“we’ve got, hotshots, like the hotshots we are” everyone giggles, mary ripping them out of the package and giving one out to each of you.

“here, babe” maya grabs yours out of your hand, smiling at you before shaking both of your little bottles.

“she can’t shake her own bottle?” alessia teases, making maya giggle shyly while shaking her head, “nah, she gets princess treatment from me” maya winks, making you slap maya’s thigh with utters of “i do not!”.

maya puts one in between her thighs and opens yours, giving it to you before she opens her own. “i can smell it from here” alessia grimaces, “yeah, alessia eats with her nose” mary teases, maya smells it herself and coughs a little, pushing your hand down when you went to smell it yourself.

“love, it’s gross, don’t” maya says protectively, leaning forward to adjust herself, she placed her hand on your knee and as she sat back properly, her hand slid up from your knee all the way to your thigh, making you freeze in your spot.

maya looks at you questioningly, “i’m fine, i can just smell it” you lie, maya smiles at you, “gross, right?” she smiles, making you nod along with her.

“(y/n), i know exactly how it's gonna taste and i don't want it” alessia shivers, making you giggle at her. maya stares at you while you giggle, grinning brightly at seeing you so happy.

“less, if i do it, you do it” you laugh, making the blonde groan but agree.

“my god, we need (y/n/n) around more, look how fast lessi agrees and how excited maya is” mary says to the camera. “right, let's go!” mary demands.

you all grimace but begin to drink the shot, maya drinks it quickly and begins to laugh, coughing as she got up from the frame.

mary and alessia begin to laugh, promptly making you laugh as you watch maya. maya scrambles to get her bottle of juice from your bag, continuing to cough.

“you okay?” you grimace, the ginger burning the back of your throat, maya nods, “it got up my nose” maya chokes out, drinking the juice.

you finish your shot as maya comes back to sit next to you on the bed, “god, you're like a baby” you scold, lifting your hands up to cup maya’s face, wiping off the remaining shot and juice off her nose and her lips.

maya lets you do it with no complaints, watching you with a smile as you still taste the shot in your mouth.

when you drop your hands, maya lifts up her own, squeezing your cheeks together teasingly before putting the bottle of juice in your mouth.

her arm coming around your back to draw comforting circles on your back as you had the juice, passing it to alessia when you were done.

maya giggles as she makes fun of mary, drawing you closer every couple of seconds. “lessi, you need to finish it” you say to her, alessia shakes her head.

“no, i don't want it” alessia says with disgust, “come on, less, please” maya says, joining you in convincing the blonde, alessia rolls her eyes but does it anyone, getting a cheer from the three of you when she finished it.

“i’m so proud of all of you for that” mary mocks, ending the video with goodbyes and maya tackling you to the bed, claiming that now she was traumatised from the shot and needed comforting.

mary hops on both of you while filming it while alessia laughs in the back, distantly saying “such a third wheel!” making mary laugh when maya pressed a firm kiss to your cheek.

let’s just say you replayed each and every interaction that night before you went to bed. maya liked you back and you needed to do something about it.

—

a couple months later, you were back in manchester with maya, waking up early for training to make you both some breakfast.

“good morning” maya yawns, placing a hand on your hip with a kiss to your cheek, you let out a shaky breath before replying.

“morning, love, breakfast is there” you nod your head to the kitchen island, maya gasps in appreciation, thanking you and kissing your cheek repeatedly, pulling giggles out of you.

after you both finished eating, she just answered some texts on her phone as you stared at her, “you okay?” maya chuckles, glancing over at you, turning her phone off and swivelling her chair to face you, prompting you to do the same.

you don’t know where the surge of confidence came from but something came over you in that moment.

“can i try something?” you ask slowly, maya nods without hesitation, “whatever you like” she says sweetly, slightly moving closer to you.

you let out a quick exhale, swallowing the lump in your throat. there was so much riding on this, you could lose her forever or you could have her forever, and it was all on this.

but you couldn’t back down now, you owe it to yourself to do this. “if you hate me forever after this, i’m sorry for it now” you say wearily,

“babe, i could never hate you, it’s literally impossible” you says with full confidence. you nod at her, your eyes flickering between her eyes before quickly dropping to her lips and then back up.

she gives you a soft smile, you’re both on the same page. she wants you to make the first move.

you bite the bullet, surging forward to press your lips against hers, feeling them move together in sync without an ounce of hesitation. you both wanted this.

her hand cupped your chin and she stood from her chair, standing between your legs as she continued to kiss you. she places a hand gently on your thigh, your own arms wrapping around her neck softly.

she hums against you, kissing you sweetly with a smile lightly playing at her lips, making you chuckle against her.

she pulls away softly, bumping your nose cutely with yours as she giggles to face you. “you finally caught on, huh?” she teases, you roll your eyes, making maya pull you into another kiss, this one more purposeful and passionate before she pulled away again.

“you could’ve said something” you mock, maya interlaces your hands together, kissing the back of it gently.

“i said it everyday, i just wanted you to come to me in your own time” maya smiles, pushing a stray hair off your forehead.

you smile at her but almost sadly, the thought of both you and maya’s pushing your feelings away for so long.

“but what if i didn’t say anything?” you frown, gently caressing her face with the pad of your thumb, tracing over her cheek, maya smiles at you, moving closer to you.

“but you did, baby” she says softly, pecking your lips gently, “and it’s okay if you didn’t, i would just be your best friend and that’s it” she says earnestly, you pull her in for a hug, a tight one.

she gently sways you side to side as your legs slightly wrap around her waist. “i love you” you sniffle, maya tears up herself, kissing your cheek as she moved back.

“i love you” she says looking right into your eyes, kissing all over your face before settling on your lips, kissing them a couple of times before hugging you again.

“as much as i would love to kiss you all day, we have training” maya groans, grabbing both of your hands to help you down off the chair.

“so you wouldn’t kiss me all day?” you gasp mockingly, giving her a teasing smile, maya rolls her eyes affectionately, pinching your hip warningly.

“i would love nothing more, but we have a job to do, we can kiss all night” she winks, pecking your lips before ushering you out the door.

—

you’ve now been dating for over a year and have never been happier. the amount of relief everyone felt when they found out you were now dating was quite funny.

now everyone just had to get used to more flirting then usual but it was worth it, especially since you and maya were so happy.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you! ily lessi x