#tatama

[onenicebugperday]

Monkey grasshoppers, family Eumastacidae

Photographed in Tatama National Park, Colombia

by Judy Gallagher

#animals #curators on tumblr #insects #bugs #grasshopper #monkey grasshopper #one nice bug

[capslocked]

HONNE, TATAMAE & THE OTHER ONE

male reader x shin yuna

9k words

Yuna shuffles into your office with the same sneaky smile, the same easy slouch, and she settles into one of the chairs across the table. There is, apparently, more to talk about.

It's a matter of image, of perception, is what she knows. 

You know every good lie starts with the truth.

So you swallow. You pause. Some other part of you understands Yuna can't ignore who she really is, and you’re not sure you can either.

-

Look - Shin Yuna is the kind of woman that turns heads, even with the best of intentions. A long, lithe silhouette; an easy, rosy sort of youthfulness clinging to the swell of her cheekbones, the curve of her waist. Take a dress that's cut to show a little thigh, or a hairstyle pushed back on one side - earrings, or heels, or just the subtle swipe of red over her lip - it doesn't take much for men (or anyone else) to figure that out. A girl who, more times than not, really ought to have a boy's hand planted on her ass, in possession.

So the opportunity to capture such a form perfected - all toned and graceful and flush for curves, her legs never seeming to end, the slithering fit of the dresses - these were the things they wanted. Package it, put a logo on it - better yet, a ribbon or a bow - and ship it straight to the consumer.

Somebody everyone wants, somebody no one can ever have.

“So,” Yuna asks from the other side of your desk, lips slanting halfway coy. “Are you going to treat me like an adult?"

Her fingers play idly with the hem of her skirt, and she lets a long, slender leg slowly slide out from beneath her.

“In what way,” you answer, half paying attention.

"The photos." She doesn't have the slightest qualms about lifting it higher. The soft creak of leather, and a deepening smile. "Am I not allowed to be a little racy?"

"That's certainly... one way of looking at it."

You glance away from where her stockings wrap around the soft curve of her thighs to flip back through the photos in your lap, one after the other, each a little different from the last. The beach, the sun, a flimsy white slip of a bikini top that hides exactly nothing, her muscles wet and glistening and perfect. Beyond suggestive, it's considerably inappropriate.

But then to a lot of people, Yuna is a lot of things. 

She’s more clever than anyone gives her credit for. And she’s fucking gorgeous, sure. That’s definitely not up for debate, but god is she young - she's barely twenty. And here’s some rather uninteresting food for thought: you couldn't even technically take her for a drink without faking an ID or breaking some law or another, like a real one. So go ahead, chew that down. Girls her age are typically studying, or working a retail job and getting wasted on the weekends. And they aren't typically making six, seven figures turning their head to the camera and asking how much more skin?

You have some thoughts.

Prudently, you’re her publicist, and it’s your job to make sure that the public gets a good look at her and sees exactly what you want them to see. It's unfair. She wields sex like a weapon. She's got the face, the body; it's an easy sell, commodified and commercialized down to the finest detail, the softest curve, the slightest arch of her brow. The idea's to not let anyone look too long, should they catch something you haven't approved yet, or the fact that she's quite possibly a real person with a real life and real feelings, which could easily fuck up her brand, so unfortunately, that's a bit of a no-go.

Sign of the times maybe, no ethical consumption under another something, yadda yadda - it's a shitty business, really, and the whole thing usually leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

(And just to be upfront, as an important disclosure: you are fucking her brains out on the side, which is a different kind of ethical dilemma, with a different kind of flavor to it. 

You’re supposed to be something of a role model - and she’s gone and fucked up bad by falling for you. From her perspective, it probably makes sense. Girl gets boy, bespoke song, credits roll and it's fine. No sin to atone, no 'after'. 

It was supposed to be a one time thing. It’s metastasizing into something you’re not even going to attempt to put into words. It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen, you know that. And you know the girl has daddy issues, but then you've never had a problem whatsoever playing into it. The possessiveness, the control - she gets off on it. You're pretty sure that she'd do just about anything if you asked her, and you'll admit that the thought alone makes your stomach stir, your mouth run dry.)

Yuna taps her knuckles on the wood of your desk. “What’s the verdict?” 

"Well, professionally," you say, caveat in hand, and you give the photos one last flip through. "I'd say they're fine.”

"Oh?" Yuna cocks her head to the side. Her long, blonde hair curtains over her shoulder, and the smile that shadows in at the corner of her mouth is almost wicked. She leans forward, chin propped on a palm, and you see that her expression is bright, glittering with interest. "And unprofessionally?"

Sure. It's a fair question.

Though she's wearing her stage face, the one that looks all big eyes and doe lashes, a hint of a pout on her plush bottom lip, and she's staring at you expectantly, the way she might look at a man she's just asked for the time.

You've seen her look a million other ways. You've seen her with her knees spread, her cheeks flushed, on all fours, straddling your lap, face pressed into the sliding glass door of your shower, her eyes screwed shut as she chokes out your name. And god, doesn’t she look good in all of them.

Your fingers tap against the photos.

“Unprofessionally," you tell her, and the smile on your face is tight - unknowable. "I think they’re a little… gaudy."

Yuna frowns, and it's just a flash before her expression is carefully blank again, the stage face back in full swing. She's been doing this since she was a teenager, so the mask is impeccable, but you know her, and you know that she's thinking: about the photo shoot, the way the photographer was looking at her, and the way you had looked at her later, too.

She knows what you've seen. She's wondering if that's why.

"Really," she asks, a note of disappointment in her voice.

"Really," you confirm with a small sigh, though you're still smiling. It's a small, private sort of smile, like you're remembering a joke. You don't miss the way she glances down at your mouth either. "Let me be clear, you have a shot at real success. I mean, you have a chance at a career. A real, sustainable career.”

She's sitting there with her legs crossed, her foot tapping restlessly, and when she's silent for a moment too long, the way her eyes narrow just a smidge, her head tipped slightly, you realize how it sounds. Patronizing.

"Look," you amend. You're not the best at apologies, but you try. "I just mean - I think that you could be doing something that you actually enjoy."

"Who says I don't enjoy this," she says, and there's a bite in her tone, a challenge. She's leaning back in her seat now, arms crossed.

"What, taking your clothes off for the camera?" You laugh, a quick bark. Isn’t that a cruel question, and you can see it in the way her eyes flash. "You could do a lot more than that, I'm just saying."

"Right," she says, and she doesn't blink, doesn't even move. Her gaze is fixed, unwavering. "Because I'm not pretty enough."

You open your mouth. Close it.

It's not a question. It's a statement.

"That's not what I'm saying-"

"Do you know what makes me different from the IT-girl-of-the-month? The Jang Wonyoungs, the Bae Irenes, the Kim Jisoos of the world?" Yuna cuts in.

"Yuna, this isn't-"

"You should know. " She laughs. "It's your job, knowing things, isn't it?"

The silence stretches thin between you. She's not wrong. There’s the quintessential beauty, the timeless classic, the fantasy-wrapped-up-as-a-daydream - oh, it's all sexual, but the product there is palatable (read: marketable). An idea the general public wants to take home to their mother, not take to bed. A beauty so docile and innocent, you feel guilty harboring those untoward thoughts it makes you have.

Yuna is somewhere possibly, someway probably the opposite. You’ve sold her as such, as fantasy in sheep's clothing. She's neither afraid to put the images to words, nor speak her desires aloud. It's her own brand of sensuality, and it's what the public wants - has always truly wanted, since the dawn of man and of popstars fucking their publicists - what the public wants but turns itself in knots just to pretend they don't. The only way it’ll end up in anyones’ parents' home is under the guise that it will be smuggled upstairs and held down into the springs of a mattress. Hand over her mouth, or maybe around her throat, just so she'll shut up.

She's not a nice girl, or the girl-next-door, a bride-in-a-box, but you'd known that before. The line between fact and fiction is fine indeed.

"You're different," you tell her, finally.

"When I first came in here, you had no qualms, no issue to raise, and now all of a sudden, everything is too much," she says, and she's not smiling, her tone flat. "If it was a problem from the jump, you would've said so."

“I just think a little subtlety would be a nice change of pace. It could go a long way, I mean, I could show you the data- "

"So you're going soft on me, is that it?"

You blink, and the realization hits.

"Just where was this noble version of you when we first started out? You had no problem then, remember? Put a sixteen-year-old in front of a camera, in this industry, and all of a sudden-"

"Don't."

“And suddenly it's all 'oh no, that's a little too much, we need to dial it back'." She sighs, a single sharp burst. "Why is that? Is it because you think that now you own me? I fuck you, swallow your cum and call you daddy, and now these are your decisions? Is that it?"

She’s standing now, her chair shoved back so fast it nearly clatters to the floor. There's a storm on her face, almost a rage. This now become a familiar story. The one where the girl's too pretty for her own good. Too much, too soon.

"I'm not a child," she tells you, her tone measured, a sharp contrast to the fire in her eyes. "I know what I want. I know how to get it. You're not telling me anything I don't already know. I'm different. You're right."

She's different, but the girl's clever, too. And she's stubborn. It's a dangerous combination.

You breathe slow. "Then why don’t you act like it."

“If they’re going to call me a slut,” she hisses, and she's walking forward. Her palms land on your desk, hard, and you glance down at her clenched fists, at her neatly kept nails, "you know, after we leak them all those steamy photos online-"

Your mind clicks. You reach to slam the cover of the photo book shut. She's caught your hand, though, in hers, holding it firmly to the desk.

Yuna glances at the photos over again, at the tight fit of the swimwear, or how the ties slip in an invisible breeze. And she's biting her lip, trying not to smile, you can tell. "You know it might be worth it for once," she says, slipping a finger between the buttons of her shirt.

There's a long, tense moment, and before you can register it, Yuna has rounded your desk; she’s closing the distance, fast. 

And she’s lowering her eyes. Putting her lips on yours.

It knocks the wind from your sail, for just the instant. You're speechless.

Because her fingers. Her mouth. Her hair. Yuna's everywhere, and she's warm. It's utterly selfish, you understand: you want her to be yours. You want her to be yours and no one else's.

She’s realizing she might be.

You feel her grabbing for more of you. Wanting. She tilts her head, her breath hot, and you kiss her back, her mouth slick against your own, and the kiss is a fast, deliberate kind of messy. Your teeth catch her bottom lip, and her tongue slips past yours, licking into your mouth, her hands clutching at the collar of your shirt. It's not like it is when you're fucking, which is slow and hot, and she's on her back, legs around your waist, her nails biting into your skin, or when she's bent over the arm of the sofa, her ass in the air and her back arched, her breathless moans a chorus of yes, yes, please. This kiss is more battle, more heat, less gentle and less finesse. It's the kind of kiss that's just short of an argument.

"You're an asshole," she breathes into your mouth, and it's not a compliment.

You smile against her.

"So are you," you murmur, and her lips are parted, her eyelids fluttering shut, her breath coming quick and hot.

"Then maybe you should just fuck me," she says. She's not asking. “Yeah.” You press your words right into her neck, her collarbone. “Maybe I should.”

Your hands are on her hips faster than you can realize what it is they’re doing, palms pressing into her, and then you're walking her backwards, shuffling a few steps until the small of her back collides with the edge of your desk, and you're lifting her up onto the surface, the photographs falling to the floor, scattering.

"I thought we weren't supposed to do this here," she murmurs, pulling away for just a moment, her mouth swollen and wet, her eyes dark. She knows exactly what it does to you: the goading, the taunting - the looks of faux-innocence later over a bare shoulder, her ass in the air. How it can get you to fuck her within an inch of her life. What it’ll get her, the return on investment.

"And I thought we agreed to longer skirts."

Her thighs are smooth, silky, and they part, the lace of her underwear stark against her skin. You slide a hand beneath the elastic band, sinking down, and down, until she inhales sharply.

"The fuck do you end up doing going up the stairs?" you add, and your fingers are tracing the swell of her hip, and you can feel the goosebumps on her skin.

She bites her lip. You sink down to press a kiss to her thigh, and then the other.

"Nothing," she tells you, and her eyes are wide. "I guess it all just hangs out."

She simply smirks right back into you, throws her arms over your shoulders. You’re snared, caught - she’ll always be able to fuck what she wants right out of you.

"Jesus, Yuna." Your hand curls around her wrist, thumb pressed to her pulse, and her shoulders roll back.

You push her down, and she's sprawled across the desk, legs stretching wide, her head tilted back and her chest heaving. “God, you’re so fucking wet, and I've barely touched you. That turns you on? Being a brat?"

She sucks air past her teeth, and you can measure each rise and fall of her chest. The lace under her hips is soaked, her pussy swollen and pink. Like if she doesn’t get your hot, open mouth on her clit this instant, you’re both going to have a problem.

You slip two fingers into her instead, and Yuna keens.

"I know it does," you say, and your voice comes out lower, drier than you expect. She's hot, so wet around you, her pussy fluttering. "It fucking turns me on, too."

"Please," and “god,” is what all you receive back in half whispers, while her legs are spread, her heels now really dug into the square of your back, and she's got a fistful of your hair like she owns it. Her voice is high, her eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t be such a fucking tease."

You're not going to make it easy. She's not going to make this quick.

"What, and you aren’t?"

You curl your fingers inside her, and the noise that leaves her is positively obscene. She's grinding against your palm, her hips bucking, and her lips are parted, her eyelashes dark and thick, fanning her cheeks. She's panting, her thighs trembling.

"No," she breathes. If she’s shaking her head, you can’t tell. "I'm exactly what you tell them I am."

Your hand stills, and it takes a moment for her to realize that the pressure inside her is gone. Her eyes snap open, her mouth twisted.

"Fuck you," she spits. "Put them back."

You're already sinking down to your knees, and you've got her skirt shoved up, the lace panties pulled aside, her hips canted, her pussy glistening. The stockings can stay, fuck, the heels, too. She's so fucking hot, her legs spread apart and her lips red. Her palm shoved into her brow, and her breath just barely more than a ragged huff of air. You can feel her body wound tight and ready, her eyes on the ceiling.

You put your tongue against her, flat and slow. Inaccurate, indiscriminate, licking up her wet cunt. And her whole body arches off the desk, a cry leaving her mouth with her head thrown back. Her thighs are shaking, and her heel presses into your shoulder, and god, she tastes incredible.

"Please." It comes like music, really, a song of desperation. You can hear it. She's singing it for you now. "Oh god, please, fuck-"

So you do her one better. You put your whole mouth over her, and she fucking shivers. You don’t even try to ease into it - you're devouring, ravishing her, working your lips and tongue all over her pussy, lapping the length of her in broad, hot strokes, and she's almost shrieking, her body going taut. You suck on her lips, pressing your tongue into her clit, and when you pull off her, your hand takes over the place where your tongue can't quite reach, her wetness slick around your fingers. Yuna's close - you can see that she is, you can hear that she is, and it's her gasp that lets you know.

"I'm -" she says, her voice reaching higher, her nails digging into the flesh of your shoulders, the wood of your desk. The sound she makes is wretched and beautiful. "God, I'm cumming, I'm cumming - fuck!"

The licking, the lapping, the fucking fingering. You can feel her slicked cunt pulse and throb in a satisfied, anticipatory kind of way. Even if she wasn’t audibly wet around your knuckles, you’d read Yuna like a map.

Your thumb taps across her clit, once - twice, thrice, and it’s just that.

She arches off your desk, thighs trembling as your tongue works her over, This hard, hungry kiss, and she tastes as sweet as she looks - as filthy as she acts, too. Her pussy is slick, her hips rolling, her body trembling, and she's making soft, little ah, ah, ah, sounds into the wet seal of your mouth. She's trying to keep it quiet, because she knows as well as you, everyone in the damn office does, probably - it's one thing to play at being a slut. A complete other to really fuck like one.

Your finger slips in and out of her pussy, and then another. They fill her up. The knuckles bending and pushing deeper. Yuna's fucking ruined - your desk is ruined.

But then there you are, complicit, and perhaps a little evil: licking and licking and licking right into her, making her grip twist in your hair and her thighs clench around your face. You can feel it in how her breathing is coming fast, faster, her whole body growing taut, and it was never going to take long, you figure, the way her hips were rolling the moment you got your hands on her. You can tell. She's close, and she's so pretty, all flushed and writhing, her skirt hiked up, her ass perched on the edge of your desk, and when her mouth falls open and her breath catches in her throat, you pull yourself up to watch her, the heel of your hand pressed against her clit, and she's shaking.

"Look at me,” you tell her, a kiss trailing unsatisfyingly into the crease of her thigh, your voice running coarse.

She does, her gaze glassy, and the sound that leaves her mouth is a sob. That’s all it really takes.

“Show me. What face you make when you cum on my fingers sweetheart, show me what a slut you actually are-"

You can watch it all in real time, the panting, the heaving. The sculpted lines of her pretty face screw up, real tight, and she lets out another moan, breathier this time, her mouth hanging open. She does it again when you press down. And Yuna fucking shakes, her hands balled, white-knuckling, and the desk rattling beneath her.

It's all a matter of slight degradation, you’ve learned, the barest humiliation. Like the paradoxical freedom she knows she can find in a hand clenched tight around her throat or her hair pulled and twisted into a fist or the sharp sting of a smack across her ass. Her pretty face. She likes a little something that burns. Something sinewy, visceral, raw: you call her a whore, a filthy fucking cumslut and it makes her body curl like she has hot metal pressing into her skin. Makes her breathless, like she wants you to own her.

Sometimes it's better than being fucked.

(Sometimes.)

Because just look at her: she’s in the middle of coming apart, mouth fallen slack, brow furrowed - and she gets real quiet when she cums, the absolute opposite of the journey she’d taken to get there, all those loud little, uh-uh-ah, fucking please god, her moans, her whimpers - her orgasm ripping right through the middle of her, the hourglass of her entire body stiffening on borrowed time as it washes across her features.

You let out a loud sigh, something she can moor herself to that isn’t your fingers, the desk, or your hair at the roots. Yuna can be every bit as uncomplicated as she can be complex, but god, you love her most like this: an unrehearsed, beautiful mess.

"Baby," you tell her, because it's easier to just call her that, and because you don't know how else to end the statement, because you know if you ask, she'll let you - hell, she'll beg for more, and that’s got your brain feeling rather mushily incoherent at present.

"Daddy," she responds - because of course she fucking does; she’s gasping, and her cheeks are still so pink, her body sated, and your heart leaps into your throat. 

It's a problem; you've been trying to work it out for a good few months now, and by this, you mean the little moment you have right after you're done, where your eyes meet, and you smile at her. A problem, too, her lips. A problem, because she kisses you, soft, and slow, and easy. A problem, because her heart's probably already yours.

If anyone were to ask, you would have said there's no greater pleasure than knowing a girl that's almost died to take your cock, but maybe that's the point: it's just supposed to feel a bit better if you're a little head over heels, a little stupid about it too.

"I'm going to use this perfect pussy now," you warn her - just simple formality - because you're already rolling her down onto her back, your cock hard and aching against your trousers.

You've got your hands on her stockings, tugging them down to her ankles, the lace of her panties around her thighs, the neat garter of her garter belt wrapped around her hips, her cunt bare beneath it. You unzip, too slow. You tug yourself out.

“I’ll be good,” she says to you, a promise.

“Yeah,” you return to her, “I know.”

And you slip your cock into her cunt, just barely - maybe an inch, maybe more - and you hear a little noise leave her throat, low. Broken. 

“Fuck,” she murmurs, and god, you just can't help it, it's easy; you sink deeper, nice, slow, everything smooth inside her, until another broken sort of gasp spills off her lips. 

And then another: "oh my fucking god."

You snap your hips back in, bottoming out this time in the wet heat of her perfect cunt, and she just fucking collapses. Yuna looks like an absolute dream in this state of half-dress, half-distress: black suede around the ankles, stilettos, with just the perfect heel. There are worse things, you can imagine, and she looks perfect sprawled out against your notes and portfolios, all this hot, aching want. As gorgeous as she is fucked. You tear into her stockings, a little. You’ll tear more. 

You already know you're going to hell. Or at least that’s where you should already be, but you hips crash into hers again, fucking her legs wider apart, spreading her open across your desk for you, getting her slick all over the photos, her career - it’s all so perfectly unfair.

"You have no idea, the things I want to do to you right now," you breathe, your tone hushed, and you're talking again, like you often do. There goes your mouth - but your hips drag back, and then again, her pussy clenching, vice tight and impossibly wet.

It's a long, torturous, lazy sort of a pull, that draws these pretty thin moans from the very center of her.

And the way that feels, your cock buried deep in her cunt: better than good - heaven, if you care enough about labels for it, or the names of things. You haven’t any real way to tell; the gates haven't opened or anything, so all you're working from here is an educated guess. From the fact that Yuna’s eyes have slid closed, her lips parted, and her whole body starting now to tremble gently with it.

"Jesus, this perfect, tight pussy grips me so good, god - such a good girl, always so fucking wet for me," and your mouth is pressed to the arch of her ear, whispering every last thing you know will make her cum again, like a dream.

And she is, she does.

She's twisting up to grip at your hips, her head falling to one side. When you drag your cock through her cunt, slowly, you watch her lips purse and the way the flush moves all the way down the column of her neck, past her collarbone, her shirt half undone and her tits heaving against the white, sheer fabric. You fuck her for a little, and then you roll your hips slow, so slow. 

Until your pace is fucking punishing, deep, and so hard. You can’t help it.

Because it's unbelievable - she's so perfect, so tight around you. Fit snug like a glove, like she was made to take your cock, to whimper and mewl at your mercy. Her lips part further and she keens, her brows twisting in similar disbelief as you pound your length into her. The heat pooled in your belly, the way she looks under your desk: fuck, she's so beautiful like this, properly fucked. 

You'd let her ruin you for life - it's that simple.

"Yuna, you - fuck," you barely say, and you sound more than slightly stunned, so she’s filling in the gaps, elaborating in the spaces you cannot - that she loves it, that you’re so good for her, and so is that, and that, and that - the way it hits, right there, keep fucking her just like that, because right there, right there, right there, right there - the way she props herself up on her elbows to tell you, "you're fucking me so deep, oh my god - yes, oh my god, fuck."

By the time Yuna shudders through another orgasm, a silent ghost of a wail leaving her pretty frozen mouth, her lashes are batting against her cheeks, and she's biting her lip, so hard you're certain she's going to break the skin, her back strung like a bow. It's the look on her face, that soft sort of reverence, and how her lips are swollen and spit-slick, the pretty hollow of her throat. Your thrusts become faster, shorter - your own moan thick in your throat, your jaw hanging slack.

“Here,” you say, and she’s just putty between your fingers, on your cock.

You’re flipping her around, onto a different angle. You know she likes it, the way her tits are pressed against your desk, and it's hot the way her ass tilts right into your hips, arched. Proffering. "Be good for me, and spread yourself open."

She's already so meek when she complies. "Anything, sir. Stretch me out; I want you to make me yours."

God, she's practically purring when she talks like this. She knows exactly what that fucking does to you. Knows that when her eyes draw back, big and watery and full, you're a goner - if your cock wasn't deep in her pussy, fucking her open and raw, the view would nearly be enough. And all of this, the pretense, the pantomime, she knows how to bend the line of your body to her own, because when she turns, and presses her red mouth to the crest of her shoulder, you are hers.

You could probably cum, right now, deep down into the molten hot of her cunt: if your hips keep up their ruthless pace, if her ass was sticking up the slightest bit more - the sound that would come from her.

"Take that perfect cock - and fuck my pussy up," Yuna mewls, her voice saccharine and slurring, a touch whiny. She rolls her hips. Your cock grinds, still, though it stutters now - shallow and quick.

"All this pussy, for daddy's cock," and you're sure that the entire office can hear her now, the moans that escape from her mouth - but you can't even find it in you to care. You're caught, all of her a net you've willingly been ensnared by, and here you figure that's the slightest bit appropriate; you're so fucked, and it's funny, too. Funny enough to laugh about, later. "Nobody fucks this tight little pussy the way you do, sir."

It's a smile she hears in your voice when you say, "is that right? Go on then, let’s hear all the things you'd have me do to your slutty little cunt."

The line's crossed again, in some indecipherable direction. Where, again, exactly, does it matter? There are lines and lines, and none of them quite mark the beginning, the end, the periphery. This time you don't pull back; you dig deep, and it makes Yuna cry out like you’re killing her. Which, in a way - you already have.

So your hips stutter forward again, once more, and you lean into the slant, so fucking deep it's practically impaled. There’s nothing quite like holding this girl’s hips and pounding her from behind. Her pussy alone is fucking incredible. And the sound her ass makes against the flat of your stomach, the crease of your thighs - it's unimaginable, the way Yuna makes these little squeaks of a noise, like half-broken moans, when you fuck deep, deep, deeper into her. The way her arms splay wide and search frantic across your desk. And as you grab her slim, dainty wrist, pin it back and pull her tight - fixing her upright until you have her head lolling back against your chest - you simply fucking pound away.

Fucking all these little curses and sounds of appreciation out of her throat. Your cock forcing out each syllable, "yes," and "fuck," and "god, oh my fucking god - I cannot believe," now on repeat, how her tone grows tighter. How she moans - a lot, like something's being worked loose.

"Uh-uh," and you're holding her steady now, with one broad, strong hand at the back of her neck. "Keep telling me, and maybe I'll let you cum."

Your free hand finds purchase in her hair. Yuna's groan coming out pathetic and wanting, her mouth half open. You wrap her silky golden locks around your fist, her hair thread neatly through your fingers, and then give the slightest of yanks.

Christ, her pussy just fucking soaks onto you. Greedy. Needy.

"Shit," and Yuna gasps when she can, where she's allowed to.

"Oh, is my little girl into getting her hair pulled?" and you can see the signs of affirmation: the muscles inside her flexing, grasping you as you roll in, a small, soft nod, and the way she sighs your name, like a prayer on her lips.

Listen, she can barely speak, the way you're fucking her apart. Yuna's body is wound like a bow, like string and taught wire. Bent into the side of the desk and open for you, her pussy pulsing tight around you with every stroke.

"Sir, I'll do - whatever you need, just - just - let me have your cum, please -" and there, she's begging now, and her voice is tinny, breaking, breathless and airless.

Then it’s her fucking hair. You pull so much on it harder this time, with another measured thrust inside her, your body flush against her ass. Fingerprints searing down onto where her hips flare and taper, impossibly narrow.

You’re probably hurting her. You’re probably ruining her for anyone else - nothing will ever satiate her more than the way she sobs as your fingers twist tighter through her hair. Around her fucking miracle of a waist. It's an obscene sound that echoes down to your cock, as deep, hot and fucking filthy as her cries when she cums for the third, fourth?

"Just," Yuna barely makes, her eyelids heavy, her gaze flitting somewhere behind her. "Just look at you, fucking me so hard, filling up my tight little pussy, making me take everything your cock has to give. God, you love wrecking my perfect little hole, don't you?"

No, or yes, or probably. You’ll figure out the details later.

"God, I love it when you get real messy, when I get you like this-" your words run seamlessly into the searing heat between your bodies, like punctuation, like the end of days -

"Use me." She doesn't just say it. "Take me, and cum in me, wherever you want. Daddy, you can have my mouth, or, or, you can - you can finish inside me."

And god, you could, you really could: just the timbre of her voice does things to you, the way that it curls around the words daddy, and sir, and you're fucking me so goddamn good. She's saying them now, her whimpers breaking into outright moans and all: shit, please, please - you're gonna make me cum - oh - oh fuck! And when she's wound that tight, a quivering, sopping mess of a girl, you put your fingers against her clit, circling and pressing in tempo to the thrust of your cock.

The cruel metronome that makes. Hell, it fucking sends her.

She’s begging you to finish inside her. It's fucked up - and she knows it. She wraps her heels around the square of your back, and the tension rises, and rises, the coiled spring tight and waiting - just a push away, so you slam into her once, then twice more, the push of a hand splayed between her tits and your fingers digging into the muscle of her thigh. She wants you to cum in her pussy, fill her right up; she tells you that, again, that she wants it, and her voice is raspy, high. That she wants you now, as if she didn't before, and how does this compare, because she needs it now.

You hold out for just a little. You’re holding your breath. Just a little, just until Yuna’s eyelashes flutter open over her shoulder and she says your name, so sweetly, and says, "please, just, inside."

You shouldn't.

You can't.

So here, barely able to think at all, you end up doing the unthinkable - thinking all the while of pumping her right to the finish and draining your balls straight into the deepest reach of her cunt, how fucking tempting it may be - you muster an ounce of good judgment still adrift in a sea of lust. Your throbbing cock draws out of that wet, inviting heat and into your fist, and watch how that makes her begin to unspool: the way she tries to press her knees shut. She's sobbing for it, pleading, her lashes dark with tears. "No, no, fuck me, please, I'm begging you. Please, I'm going to be so good - god, please -"

You tug her back, look her in the eye, and let out a loud, shaky exhale. "Knees, princess."

She's too wracked with need to do anything other than comply. Her jaw drops. “But-”

"Mouth," you cut in, sharp enough that her gaze lifts, and you're right there - on the precipice, so close, watching her tongue dart out of her mouth to run across the swell of her bottom lip.

Watching her knees fold into the carpet, her stockings down loose around her thighs, her underwear hanging off an ankle. The rise and fall of her chest like rolling waves, and you can see her hands fisting on her knees, and her face: you watch the emotion flash over, like water on glass, and a moment is all it takes. She leans her face forward to your hand, as you wind her hair into your fist, her lips parted and her gaze lowered. She's obedient, taking the weight of your cock with her pretty pink mouth like the fucked-up-little-fantasy that she is, opening so nice and wide.

Her eyes flit up to yours, her mascara-ringed lashes fanned against the pink of her cheeks.

"My face," she tells you, or something close to it, "fuck my face. Go ahead, use it - cum all over me."

Your cock slides halfway home, her cheeks hollowing, and when it presses to the back of her throat, she gags. You curse and tip your head back, the wood of your desk digging into the flesh of your palm.

"What did you say," you half groan out. "Baby," you add, just for good measure, just to play along, "c'mon."

The tip of Yuna's tongue sweeps and swirls just beneath your cockhead, and she moans her answer around your length, lapping at a leak of precum. "I said," she's repeating now, her cheek brushing across your shaft, and you shudder. "Fuck, what I said was I want you to cum all over my face.

Jesus.

You bury your cock into her mouth once, twice. Let it sit there. Let her really struggle for it, the angle just a tad awkward from above. Let her lips stretch wide, and her shoulders shake a little - tears start to gather, pricking her eyes, her lipstick a mess, the way your cock fits, plugging up her throat so full. You hold her like that for just a second, a little less - until Yuna's moaning, the vibration low in her mouth, and her eyes flutter open, closed.

"Fuck," you spit out, and "perfect," and your voice is shot, your whole face warm, and you're going to cum on her - everywhere on her. Yuna, who’s been staring up at you in wide-eyed submission, gives you a little nod, like she means it.

Like she’s earned it.

And maybe she has: it only takes one last look to seal it - her hand curled around your cock, her cheek matted with her own spit and lipstick, the bright smudge of her own cum from the point of her chin to the cleft of her cupid's bow, and her eyes are locked on yours, eager and hot. Maybe she hasn't - and maybe you should make her beg, fuck her mouth some more - it's almost cruel, how she looks. A perfectly pretty picture, poised and pliant and waiting, and she's right there, beneath you, and fuck - this is so wrong, and you'll ruin her, you'll mark her up like this. She'll be painted like a work of art.

Your pulse thickens. Stands right up in your veins.

Then, your control, snapping: her pretty lashes flutter, her mouth gone slack, her jaw still tilted up like she expects a gift, an offering, her palm wrapped so nice and snug around the base of your cock, her expression dazed, and so easy, and perfect, so eager. You tilt your hips just a fraction further, and she fucking swallows, her tongue tracing the underside where you throb harder, heavier - her body lilting up as you press in so deep.

“God,” you breathe in, out. It hits hard. It hits fast. “Yuna-”

A tensing of your stomach coils up through like smoke, and your grip tightens on the edge of your desk, the other in her hair, a helpless, desperate thrusting, and there - it's a wonderful, brilliant sort of explosion, like light, the white-hot burn of a fever breaking. You cum all over her face and into her hair, spilling out streaks of hot, filthy white onto her sculpted features and the sweet line of her throat, and god, there's so much, she's taking it so easily, all her breathing hot and heavy and loud.

Her skin alabaster and porcelain; cotton and canvas; she lets you fucking paint her, all messy and ruined.

In fact she’s even smiling like she’s holding in a laugh, all gooey-soft with satisfaction, and you're jerking your cock slow through her slender fingers, even after there's nothing else left to give and every inch of her face is marked - the way she wears your cum like new skin. You feel the shockwave tear your nerves open, and then the calm, right on its heels, spreading out from your core to your fingertips, out through the roots of your hair.

"Ah," you exhale, a tight gasp. Yuna takes the entirety of you into her mouth, sucking down your length - harder - as she swallows back a final, sticky load, her own hair sweat-slick to her face.

Just look at the damage: that’s a story not even you’d be able to spin. There's cum on her nose, dribbling past her cheek. On her jaw and on her cheek. Filthy white streaked all over her parted lips, her neck. Down her shoulder blades, and soiling her hair, and leaking down past her collarbones.

(Christ, was this better or worse? You can't even tell. Every version of her that's been served on a plate for you has seen fit to make you sweat.)

When the dust begins to settle, you’re left panting and spent. Yuna, the collateral on this fine, whiny, disaster of a deal. A collection of photos, and some thoughts and ideas, that now sit disheveled on the ground. There's a scathing voice inside your head that's demanding to be heard, reminding you all-too-casually that this is not any way to manage a client. She could snap her fingers, call out to that sycophant at the top floor, and your career would be over - she could do anything she should ever desire.

You know, on a baser level, this, and worse: the duality of the thought. Her tight cunt on your desk, you on your knees; the sharp gasp you can steal from the top of her throat, perhaps when she feels the gentle pressure of teeth around one rosy nipple. The pinch of your thumb and index finger around the other. Her nails down your back in ten angry lines, and the throb in her throat, while you slide the whole width of a hand, rough, over the flesh of her ass.

Maybe the desk, like everything else, can just join the pile on the floor.

"Yuna," you say, the vowels pitching like a sigh.

Her palms find the sharp crease in your pants and slide upward. She's gazing up at you, bright, her face sticky with you.

"You can't send me out like this," she tells you, matter-of-factly, letting a smile cross the lines of her lips - or a smirk. A wordless extension of the previous sentence - of a few.

You pull out and away from her: a white and gray dotted tie hanging loose, unknotted; a button still fastened somewhere mid-center, your trousers pulled off and loose down just below your knees, the fly gaping open. She's in a similar state, the cups of her bra slipping loose, her mouth flushed, lips swollen and red, the outline of how she’d let you use her in a smeary, runny stain across her cheek.

"Maybe let your manager know," you tell her, pulling your belt in place, and you think you catch her eye rolling. "That you're going to be late."

Yuna doesn't hesitate.

"Tell her yourself," she responds, "I'm sure she'll be relieved to hear I'm not actually dead - just having gotten fucked stupid on my PR person's cock."

"I might forget to include a couple details."

"You shouldn’t." Her eyebrows jump. And she's chewing, lazily, on the full curve of her lower lip, her teeth glinting like razors. "Here, before you throw all this to the sharks -"

So, so very dramatic, and with this: her thumbnail pressed beneath your chin. It draws your gaze up - up, and down: from the splay of her legs and the gleam of wetness between them, a brief rest along the arcs of her chest - the room's a total fucking wreck. Your necktie, her skirt, her blouse, her pantyhose. The papers and books all spread, bent, broken, the stack knocked clean onto its side. The skirt's probably still pulled too far up her hips for decency, her breasts shoved up to her neck and the collarbone, and then there's her face - her chin streaked with cum. Yuna smiles then, the corner of her mouth pulled upward.

She might kiss her if you'd let her.

Cum on her lips be damned, she's beautiful like that, like she isn't even trying. And in fact, she never really had to - this girl, she'd do it alone. The idea that someone could be as universally loved as she, is enough, a marvel even, but here she is in front of you, every atom and curve a siren, a study in perfection and composition. Like she’s not just all your mistakes laid out to bear.

"Take a second to take a proper look, hm? Get all the memories in, while they're fresh."

"Because?"

"You can remember I'm only the person you say I am, for you."

"Oh, of course," and the laugh that leaves your throat sounds dry, cracked open. The band of her skirt stretches, snaps back, so neatly that it leaves a pale line on her flesh. And now there are your hands, fitting around her hipbones, a sigh: a short, sudden motion, tugging her up. Yuna gasps: something surprised, delighted. She's all grins and teeth, all clean, bright incisors. 

"Mine," you're breathing, the flat of her stomach underneath the fingers you've placed upon it. "This is mine - you. Yours - you're all mine."

It’s possessive, but, you’re not all incorrect.

"Yeah," she more than agrees. 

There's a ribbon-taut quality in the way it leaves her mouth, the tension in her body coiled up through to the bones. She makes it sound like the beginning of a promise, the beginning of something much larger.

And by the way." She’s still buttoning her shirt. Putting herself together. You’ve seen the triage, the damage control. This is the Yuna you get. 

So, she needs the second - a respite to lick a stray stripe of slick and cum off her wrist - blotting her cheeks with a ball of wet tissue, until all that's left is the smeared lipstick, her stockings splayed around the floor. The pattern you've worn, where your fingerprints would've shown, gets covered up under her skirt and her coat, wrapped up in a scarf.

The smug satisfaction in her tone pulls your focus, just in time, her hair's falling in waves down her shoulders - perfect, but not flawless: there's a creased line, a hint of her throat, just beneath the collar. There's a slight wisp out of place. The buttons aren't arranged all the way from her collar to her sternum.

"I'm going to go with that photoset, with the white top, in the sand - gonna post 'em online and generate some buzz. You even said it yourself: they're fine. " She pauses, pushing away a strand of hair. "Professionally, of course."

"Professionalism." You smile. "Of course."

She walks out carrying the stilettos: pumps in either hand.

"Always. Catch you soon," she promises, and you do catch a last flash of her expression, lips parted, the lower curving into a satisfied smile, right as she flicks the lock on the door open and your office goes back to quiet.

For a split second, it's unbearable: the silence.

And you think again.

She can have anything, get any boy, girl, whoever, any designer, photographer, make-up artist in the world; there's something so unmistakably intoxicating about the fact that the thing she's decided she wants, is you.

#yuna smut #itzy smut #itzy yuna smut #male reader smut #kpop fanfic

[omegamannn]

The Omega Library 3/10

BlackPink(2/2) Rosé -Gala Gal -The Interview -Queen -Incandescent -Sweetest dreams -Safety net pt. 1 -Safety net pt.2 -Needy -Kiss and make up -Blackpink in your area pt. 3 Jisoo -Blackpink in your area pt. 2 -In motion -Unravel Cignature Jeewon -Party Time -Train to Busan 2 Dreamcatcher Multiple Members -Drunk on love with Dreamcatcher Gahyeon -Service Room -Never safe for work -Love isn't easy -The dreadful need in the devotee -Love isn't easy Sua -Overwhelming Overtime JiU -30 years later Yoohyeon -Luck inside her backdoor -Bon Voyage Dami -Edge of tomorrow -Panda Making El7z Up Yeeun -Oppaheimer Everglow Onda -Painfully Sweet Yiren -Idol Club -Everflow Fromis_9 Multiple Members -Lottery Earnings 3: Sunday Soiree -Channel 9 pt. 1 -Channel 9 pt. 2 -Channel 9 pt. 3 Saerom -Hour Glass -Jitters -Reign -On Public's Eye Hayoung -Competition -The Gamer and the Pornstar Chaeyoung -Idol Zoo feat. Isa(StayC) -CS Get Degrees -Better workout Nagyung -Stop Teasing -A Business Proposal -On Public Bathroom Jiheon -Daddy - A tinder story -[PPV] BG SEX PERFECT PINK HAIR KOREAN COLLEGE GIRL RIDES AND GETS CREAMPIED - Full Ver ($30).mp4 -BarelyLegalGirls2021Scene9.mov.exe

(G)I-DLE Multiple Members -California Love -O Sole Mio -The glide -Crossing the river -Hard to break the habit Soyeon -Frenzied -The judge -"Roll your fucking eyes again and I'll give you a reason to roll em." -Nightmare's salvation Minnie -Exam Stress Yuqi -Staircase: Prepotent Pleasure. -Untitled Miyeon -For all the right reasons -For all the right reasons pt. 2 -The woman of my dreams -Starlet -Silver Vixens feat. Jinsoul -Executive Toys H1-Key Riina -Rose in the Concrete Jungle Itzy(1/2) Multiple Members -Untitled -Untitled 2 -Distance -Christmas Present -Best Christmas present ever -Best Christmas present ever pt. 2 -Leader and baby brat -It's ok that you like it, babe -Yuna Chaeryeong Threesome -Pretty please Yuna -Diplomat's Party -Romeo -She Always Gets What She Wants -A helping hand -Awards after-party affair -Manager Oppa -Public Indecency -Entertainment -Renewed -Desire -Naughty -Untitled feat. Karina -HONNE, TATAMAE & THE OTHER ONE -Untitled Threesome -Forbidden Desires: A bodyguard's affair -Untitled

#smut #kpop #girl group #TheOmegaLibrary #itzy #h1key #gidle #cignature #dreamcatcher #everglow #fromis 9 #el7z up

[softass]

favorite bird?

teeteeteeteetee tatama tapaculo buck teeteeteeteeteetee

#birds birds birds birds birds birds birds birds birds birds

[walaumalistulog]

Binisita ko ang kaibigan ko today sa kabubukas na meryendahan sa tapat ng milktea cafe ng mama niya. Napapansin nila na napapadalas ang pagdalaw ko. Well, natutuwa sila at laging puno ng halakhak ang bawat mga kwentuhan. Sana naman umorder ka na ngayon. Oo, Tita, o-order ako ngayon. Well, Friday, so I decided na mag-milktea. Ang tagal ko nang hindi umiinom ng milktea dahil nagsimula akong maging conscious sa blood sugar level ko simula nung isang taon dahil sa pasyente kong nagkaroon ng impeksyon ang paa mula sa sugat na hindi na gumagaling. Ending, pina-amputate. Ayoko nga! Takot kong sinasabi sa isip ko kapag naalala ko ‘yon. Well, nasa lahi na kasi namin ang jabetis. Ito na yata ang ilan sa mga inheritance na natanggap ko mula sa mga magulang ko. Sa lahat ng mamanahin, talagang sakit pa ang namana ko! 

Habang nagba-browse ng mga flavors, may dumating na bata na nanghihingi ng barya. Feeling generous ako, sabi ko, ilibre na lang kita. Kita ko sa mata ng anim na taong gulang ang sudden boost of bliss, kitang-kita sa mukha, na mukhang ngayon lang makakatikim ng milktea. Binilhan ko na rin ng french fries. Ang bilis naubos ng bata ang milktea, parang nangalahati na agad, wala pang ilang minuto. Ang bilis mo naman uminom! Bati ko. Ngumiti lang sa akin, nahiya na natatawa, kaya itinigil ang patuloy na pag-inom ng milktea. Sabay may dumating na bata, na mukhang mas bata. Apparently, kuya pala niya iyon. Ano ‘yang iniinom mo? Tanong ng mas nakatatandang kapatid. Well, kaya pala purposely niya kinalahati ay para sa kapatid niya. Napakabuting bata. Gusto ko rin sana bilhan pa ng isa pang milktea at fries ‘yung kapatid, pero naisip ko na mas malalim na nasaksihan ko walang kasakimang pagmamahalan ng magkapatid. Halos naluha ako sa nangyari kanina, hindi ko alam dahil sa tuwa, o dahil naiingit ako na buti pa sila may fries, samantalang ako ay wala. Ang saya pala makapagbigay ng maliit na bagay sa mga nagugutom. Kung tutuusin, pwede kong bigyan ng barya na lamang ang mga bata, pero mas gusto nila ang pagkain, dahil nabibingi na sila sa musika ng ganda ng mundo sa maingay na kalam ng kanilang mga sikmura.

Once in my life, na-feel ko na ako sa Vicky Morales sa Wish Ko Lang! sa GMA 7. Wihiiiishhh ko laaaanggg~~! Baka magtawag pa kayo ng kaibigan niyo, ha! Biro ko. Sabay nagpaalam umalis. Binilin ko sa mga bata na isama nila ako sa mga dasal nila ngayong gabi. Opo, sagot nila.

Pagkatapos ay nagtungo ako sa pinakamalapit na lotto outlet. Tumaya ako para sa 6/58 na may premyong higit isang daang milyon. Fucking shet! Ang sarap. Kumuha ako ng card, nanghula ng mga numero, hmmm… parang tatama itong 14! Saka itong 48… pati itong 27! Madalas na itong 16, eh… ay itong 59! Gago, walang 59! Kasabay ng panghuhula ko sa winning lotto combinations ay ang pangarap ko na sana, yumaman ako, para mas marami akong matulungan. At para makapunta na ako ng Machu Picchu. Ibinigay ko sa teller ‘yung ticket ko, ‘yung isa, lucky pick. Pagkatapos ay diretso ako pauwi.

Inilagay ko sa altar ang lotto ticket. Lord, baka naman! Ako naman, masyado nang mayayaman mga pulitiko sa bansang ‘to.

Pero what if, pasukin ko na lang ang mundo ng pulitika? Hamak na mas madali iyon. 

Pwede.

Napatingin ako sa tarpaulin ng isang pulitikong trapo na ang tsismis ay maraming patung-patong ng charges ng korapsyon.

Eww, nevermind!

[undercaffeinatedsoul]

If you could tell your younger self one thing right now what would it be?

“Kuha ka ng ballpen at papel, sulat mo ang mga number na to na tatama sa lotto…”

#sorry ayoko seryosohin yung sagot ko naiiyak lang ako hehe

[99liners]

How do you think the tatamae couples ig are like?

This is how i imagine the girls ig:

Azumi: private account

Most of her posts are before marrying jjk

Has some pictures with jk but he’s always glaring at the camera

Rei : most active on ig

Light academia aesthetics

Most of her posts are pictures from date with PJM

Matching outfits / couple pictures

Jimin is present on 99% of the pictures and he probably spam her account with comments

Tanaz : public personality

Her account is more organised than out life

Posts about the books that she’s reading

Has a few pictures with KTH mostly from her wedding and public appearances

Aria : the instagram mom

All of her pictures are of moon and their dog ( i don’t know if they have one but they need it)

Share some domestic pic of dad joon

Has a pet collection that she shares pictures of frequently

Dany : cooking blog

Her ig is an unofficial cooking blog

Shares her recent dishes

Post recipes

Sometimes post some cute pictures of her baby and jhs

Shiza : ghost

Has zero posts

Lives on ig : she’s the first one to like the other girls post

Inaya : not enough information

The men :

Tbh i don’t see any of the men having igs except jimin and i think his ig would be about his business

your analysis is very accurate!

kaiho:

azumi: has a private account documenting mostly her college life and then one row of wedding day pictures and then maybe barely another row of blurry pictures where it can be seen clearly that jk is glaring at the camera lol.

jjk: he has an account but it’s one of those ghost accounts with zero posts, blank display picture. he hates having his picture taken and he doesn’t use his ig much either. he has it cause on their first date azumi gave him her insta handle and mans had to get there to talk to her lol. other than azumi, he also follows IU but that’s about it.

enouement:

tanaz: she used to be the ‘ig doctor’ person, making awareness videos mostly related to diseases and illnesses prevalent among women. then after the whole scandal and losing her license she stopped posting but azumi has been trying to convince her to post again.

kth: used to have fanpages run by juniors from college when he was still doing his residency. mans was famous for that model like face. he once got an account to check the fanpages but after a while he forgot the password lol. his notifications have only piled up ever since. 

nodus tollens:

rei: she posts at least four times a week, mostly in her uniform because she loves black and she loves academia aesthetic, like you mentioned. after jimin came along, it’s all couple pictures, those tooth-rottingly cute ulzzang couple photos? that’s nodus tollens couple for you.

pjm: he has two accounts, one for his studio and the other personal. on the studio one, he is very much active and posts dance covers of his students,,, like 1million dance studio. on his personal, he posts sometimes, like to archive memories. mostly he watches reels of choreographies, follows all the dance related tags. has notifications on for rei (through both his accounts) and is always the first like and first comment.

adronitis:

aria: uh, the instagram mom. she is also someone who posts informational videos, explaining physics phenomenons. this one time she was explaining something and moon appeared and ever since, she has only gotten more views cause she is the young mom who also went to STEM,,, so like yeah,,, people love her.

knj: is not fully on board with the idea of his daughter’s face being publicly displayed on social media platforms but doesn’t complain. he doesn’t have an ig or facebook. if you wanna reach out to him, mail him during office hours lol.

psychomachy:

dany: this is a no-brainer,,, of course she has a cooking vlog! full of those aesthetic recipe posts.

jhs: ig? mans prolly holds his phone like boomers lol. he knows his wife posts and is supportive but he is far from understanding the dynamics of the app. however, he has a staff-run ig page about the hotel and all their other business.

liberosis

shiza: i disagree for shiza,,, she has a fan-account. posts about her latest obsessions, be it anime, k-pop, k-drama, movies, series. reposts thirst trap reels on her stories. has friends from all the fandoms she is part of and they dm each other memes lol. she follows all the girls and is the “omg queen yaas” “mommy marry me” commenter on their posts lol. (pjm and shiza often have a friendly fight in the comments lol)

myg: doesn’t have one, rei tried to get him interested once but then he got too busy in work and never really thought much about it. has a twitter tho

aphotic:

inaya: ambiguous posts; random square filtered pictures of nature - flowers, weather, trees, scenery, all dating back from before she got married.

ksj: he actually has an ig, he is the government ambassador for some brands and also promotes entertainment and tourism so although some posts he does by himself, most are done by his PR team. it is strictly business, only promotional posts. 

thanks for the fun ask uwu <3

#asks #silversparkles11 #tatemae series #askjaim #kaiho #enouement #nodus tollens #adronitis #psychomachy #liberosis #aphotic #still with queue

[ineffablyrandom]

Story Time:

Sobrang tagal ko bago ko maisipan isulat, partly kase tinatamad ako, mostly kase parang ayokong ikwento or I don't see a reason to disclose whatever I went through sa buong 2022.

Hindi ako magpo-post ng pictures kase nabura ko na lahat ng picture from 2022.

2022 was one hell of a year. Katulad ng sabi ko, heartbreaks and doubts. Overthinking. Etc. Mostly because I feel sad. I entered 2022 thinking ikeep up ko yung pag post, my usual madaldal and makwento dito sa tumblr self. But I realize now why I stopped, posting, I was sad and lonely.

I think I made peace with everything I went through na in 2022. But here's what happened in October up to date.

My best friend and I planned to go somewhere, kase free siya ng last week ng October and sakto na magbi-birthday ako nang November 5. Last week ng September nag sa-suggest suggest ako sa kaniya kung san pwede pumunta. Yung malapit lang muna, no need for air travel, next year na lang tayo ulit mag travel na sasakay tayo ng eroplano. So sabi ko kung gusto niya ba Baler, or La Union. Sabi ko nga Quezon may magaganda din. Pero may nakita ako sa FB na post about sa isang place na maganda, Puerto Galera. Sinend ko sa kaniya sa messenger tapos ang sabi niya "G!".

So from then nag plan na kame, ilang araw, san kami mag stay, anong kukunin namin na tour package. Anyway, na-settle namin, aalis na lang ng October 28. 5 days kame mag stay. tatlong place/hotel ang pag stay-an namin (Kase maarte kame, at gusto namin ng magandang place na pag stay-an)

But before that, buntis yung aso ko (Qielli/Shih Tzu).

Nung October 27, a day before ako umalis papuntang Puerto Galera (28 nang madaling araw ang alis namin), dinala ko sa vet si Qielli para sa ultrasound niya. Apat na puppies. Tapos biglang sabi ng Vet/Doctor, "Pwede na siya manganak ngayon. mamaya or bukas". Nagulat ako, mali pala ako ng bilang ng araw sa pregnancy ni Qielli. Tinanong ako kung i-CS ba or normal na lang, kung CS pwede na iconfine si Qielli sa Vet Clinic. Hindi ko balak ipa-CS si Qielli, kaya tumawa ako tapos sabi ko sa vet, "Hindi Doc, kaya po yan ni Qielli. Mag Normal delivery lang po siya sa bahay." Tumawa din yung Vet/Doc tapos umuwi na kame.

Habang pauwi kinausap ko pa si Qielli sabi ko, "Ngayon ka na manganak Qielli kase bukas wala ako, walang mag asikaso sayo." Kase alam ko naman hindi naman kaya nila mama na paanakin si Qielli.

Mga isang oras pagkauwi namin nagle-labor na si Qielli. Sabi ko pa sa kaniya, "Good job Qielli bear." Kase all in all hindi siya nahirapan manganak, sobrang smooth. Hindi inabot ng tatlong oras. Nailabas niya din yung apat na baby niya ng buhay.

28 ng madaling araw (5 AM), bumyahe na kami ng best friend ko papuntang Puerto Galera. Umuulan ulan last few weeks ng October (bago mag 28), pero umaraw din, tapos di namin ineexpect na tatama yung bagyo ng 28 ng hapon mismo.

11 AM ata kame nakarating sa Puerto Galera, pagbaba na pagbaba namin umaambon na pero hindi pa malakas yung ulan. Hindi naman talaga lumakas yung ulan, hindi lang tumigil talaga. Pagbaba na pagbaba namin nag land tour agad kami kahit umuulan ulan pa. Sabi nung mga nagtu-tour dun swerte namin kase nakasakay pa kaming barko pababa ng Puerto Galera, kasi kami na pala yung barko na huling pinalaot, tapos sinara na yung Puerto Galera. Yung iba daw na-stranded sa Batangas.

Hindi namin napuntahan lahat ng sa land tour pero masaya naman, pagod.

Kinaumagahan ng 29 dineklara na yung bagyo, state of calamity na ata sa Mindoro. Buong araw malakas ang hangin. Na-stuck kame sa hotel room. Hindi natuloy yung Island tour namin. Dahil wala kaming magawa, naghanap kami ng gagawin sa loob lang ng room namin. Nag make up kame. Nag tiktok. Nag karaoke. Kinabukasan maaraw na. Saka lang natuloy yung Island tour namin. After ng Island tour lumipat na kami sa isang na-book namin na hotel. (10 for me, maganda yung ambiance tsaka maganda yung place. May breakfast. Mura for a night and beach front pa.) Nag swimming lang kame, hindi matagal kase lumakas na yung alon, tapos nag hanap ng kakainan. (Sarap nung kinainan namin. Pasta, chicken tsaka pizza). Wala masyadong night life kase siguro nga may bagyo and lahat ng turista siguro nastranded sa Batangas. Nakabili naman ako ng madaming pasalubong. Kinaumagahan lumipat na kami sa Beach House Lodge and Restuarant (10 din! Kase sobrang peaceful. Sobrang ganda ng place. Sobrang sarap din ng food nila. Huhu.) Hindi nga lang kami nakapag swimming na ng matagal din kase lumakas na din yung alon. Pero we got to enjoy ourselves reading book by the beach. And yung food masarap talaga. After pananghalian umuwi na din kame, bumyahe na kami papuntang port, sumakay sa business class na roro. By 11 PM ata nakauwi na din ako ng bahay. Nung last day nakin sa Puerto Galera saka lang dumami ang tao. Siguro kase bumabyahe na nga barko. Yung nga nastranded sa Batangas, napaunta na ng Puerto Galera.

The rest, well, birthday ko. Tapos nung December first week ata. dinala ko sa vet yung apat na puppies para sa second deworming and first vaccine.

December 23 ng umaga napansin ko na nag seizure yung isang puppy (Si Yuki), dinala ko agad sa vet kasama si Luna kase napansin ko na nag twitch din siya, the hardest part for me was I knew when I started noticing the seizures and tremors kahit bago pa man sila itest, alam ko na distemper yung sakit nila. It was so sudden and ang bilis lang, wala akong ibang nakitang symptoms sa kanila, few days before that napansin ko na malambot yung poop nila pero naisip ko baka dahil lang kase nag transition na ko sa kanila from milk ng mommy nila, to milk na pang puppy (yung tinitimpla), to wet dog food. So I had no idea na it was one of the symptoms. And nung umaga lang ng 23 talaga nag seizure si Yuki tas nag twitch yung hind legs ni Luna. Sa vet clinic tinest sila, postive sa distemper. I was so heartbroken and sad and confused and worried all at the same time, kase anim ang aso ko na nasa bahay, yung apat na puppy (Qiell, Yuki, Luna, and Quincy), si Qielli tapos yung aspin ko na aso si Cassie. Tapos tatlong pusa. So hindi ko alam pano gagawin ko, sabi ng vet most likely nag hawa hawa na sila since magkakasama sila. HIndi ko alam kung san possible nila nakuha, kase hindi ko pinapalabas si Cassie ng gate ng bahay, si Qielli din. Hindi din nilalabas yung puppies. Yung mga pusa? Kase sila nakakalabas tapos bumabalik din sa bahay. Or kami? Yung mga shoes and tsinelas?

Hindi ako umiyak, pero that night nung nagsunod sunod seizure ni Yuki, I cried. Pero malakas siya kumain, naglalaro, hiniwalay ko agad siya sa mga walang symptoms. Binili ko lahat agad ng gamot, vitamins na pwede ko ipainom sa kaniya, sa kanila. Nag search ako ng remedies, ng mga distemper survivors. Inalagaan ko si Yuki tinabi ko sa pag tulog.

December 25 after midnight Yuki passed away in my bed. Sinilip ko siya pagka midnight tinabihan ko sinabihan ko ng merry christmas and I love you. Lumabas lang ako saglit para kumain. Pagbalik ko di na siya humihinga. So I cried.

After Yuki died, Luna started having tremors. Hindi siya nag seizure pero napapansin ko na nahihirapan siya sa tremors niya, nag twitch yung hind legs niya, umiiyak siya minsan kahit tulog. wala pang symptoms sila Quincy at Qiell. Hiniwalay ko din si Cassie at Qielli.

Christmas and before new year was the worst. Pagod na pagod ako. Wala akong maayos na tulog. Round the clock ang painom ng gamot. Ako lang nagbabantay, nagpapakain, nagpapainom ng gamot, maya't maya ang pag disinfect.

December 26 dinala ko agad si Luna sa Distemper facility (Rehabilitation center) para ipa confine. Sarado sila nung 24 at 25, tapos hanggang 29 lang yung confinement, 29 iuuwi ko din si Luna kase 30 sarado daw sila. Sabi ko okay lang. Go. Kaya iniwan namin si Luna dun.

December 27, Luna passed away sa rehabilitation center. Kasabay nung kinagabihan nag seizure na din nang nag seizure si Quincy.

You would think okay sila. Traydor pala talaga yung distemper. Kase maharot naman sila, playful, sobrang lakas kumain. Then bigla silang mag seizure. Biglang mag drop yung katawan nila. Biglang magiging matamlay.

I cried again that day holding Quincy in my arms.

And then I whispered to her, sumama na siya kila Luna para di na siya mahirapan.

December 29, Qiell started having seizures na din.

December 30 ng madaling araw Qiell passed away.

Quincy died 7 or 8 AM din the same day (December 30).

Writing this was so hard. I keep crying. And even now, after ilang days, I still cried every night looking at their playpen.

I was consoling myself, sinasabi ko, okay lang yan, they were never meant to grow up. Magbubuntis na lang ulit si Qielli, or bibili na lang ulit ako ng Shih Tzu. I don't know.

Iniisip ko kung may nagawa ba ako, may nagawa ba kami para makuha nila yung distemper virus? Sinisi ko yung sarili ko, sinisi ko yung tao sa paligid ko.

And then I learned that yung kumare ni mama na nakatira sa may bandang likuran namin, namatay din daw lahat ng aso niya, sa may side namin na kapit bahay dalawa yung namatay, yung sa may labasan namin nagkasakit din yung aso nila. And I wonder if may virus outbreak ba na naganap.

Now, hindi ko na sinisisi yung sarili ko, and most of the time although I miss them, I'm grateful na hindi na sila masyadong nahirapan pa ng matagal. And I hope they're happy there in the rainbow bridge kasama ang isa't isa and all my dogs na nawala na.

Napapraning lang ako ngayon, maya't maya ko chinecheck si Cassie kung okay ba siya. Maya't maya ko chinicheck si Qielli kung may symptoms ba siya.

I'm still sad.

Nung nag new year, sabi ko sa sarili ko, this year I hope will be different. Sana wala nang masyadong heartbreak.

And if biyayaan ulit ng aso/puppy. I hope that puppy/dog will stay ng sobrang tagal sa amin.

[cxcox]

Pwede bang bumalik sa nakaraan? Tatama ko lang mga maling desisyon ko.

[siwardito]

Kailan ba tatama lahat? Wala ba sign jan na magiging pa maayos 'to sa dulo?

[antidotenotions-blog]

Today marks the realization I had in myself. To never reach out and cling to someone who halfheartedly makes me want to stay.

I'm not certain with any of his intentions but I am certain I want him more than ever. It's just that sometimes maybe feeling something is never enough. They should also fight for your spot to stay in their lives. Otherwise, they aren't worth all the tears and fears because they simply wouldn't give a damn no matter how many times you get mad over it.

I made amends with the fact that if you wouldn't ask me out I might not actively ask again. You've rejected me about a dozen times and such disrespect if I still insinuate to try one last time for the infinite time already.

I feel so hurt and disrespected. Let alone uncomfortable with the feeling of insecurity. It kills me knowing I'm an absolute catch but you allow me to float around and yearn when it's ok and convenient. No solid plans in dating me just be whatever. So why would I actively initiate and participate in such nonsense? I'm being unfair to myself because I always give to whatever your heart desires because it's you and I can't say no because you are my biggest Achilles heel.

Today marks the end of my atrocity stupid foolishness. I need to say goodbye to clinging and holding you accountable when you never clearly valued me enough to yearn for my presence when I wasn't there.

Am I important to you or was all that just a product of your "tatamae" BECAUSE BECAUSE DEEP DOWN YOU ARE SCARED TO FALL IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE LIKE ME.

WHo will intensely treat you right and plan to marry you if all of these feeling and terms work out. Someone who never fails to disappoint you in making plans and someone who actually shows up. Someone with plans and dreams. Someone that can be valuable asset to your company/ies and someone who can take good care of you when words seem to hard to spell it out loud.

with good genes and talent

but whatever i guess?

i will never be good enough no matter what with the wrong person

so...

it's up to u how would u deal with me because im no longer chasing someone who doesn't want to be chased

daisuki desu...demo...kini shinaide

[whooolaanmo]

15/17 at 11/15 ang taya ko

29/20 at 18/19 taya ng Inay Cely

sino kaya ang tatama sa amin 2 🤣🤣🤣

Sep. 05, 2023 12:50 pm

[mybelovedchristine]

hi again, my beloved girlfriend.

how i wish I could tell you so easily what makes me upset last night but I am much worried that you might blamed yourself for that. that thing wasn't serious naman. perhaps I just overthink it more and more that leads me to stressed it.

I went home with a heavy heart, no doubt. thinking that day would be our last meet for this month. can't help myself to be sad last night watching you habang naglalakad ka palayo pauwi sa inyo. dati akala ko sa mga drama lang sa tv nangyayari yung habang nasa tric ka keme keme titingin ka sa taong mahal mo habang lumalayo pagitan ninyong dalawa pero hindi pala.

habang pinapanood kita na lumayo, nasasaktan ako. sobrang sakit. hindi ko kaya. at hindi kakayanin. pero— kinaya kong umuwi ng mabigat ang dibdib. na masama ang pakiramdam. na grabe yung pangungulila ko sayo kahit sa totoo lang wala pang isang oras ang huli nating kita.

pero diba ganon naman yon? kapag mahal mo yung tao katapat ng segundo na wala s'ya sa tabi mo daig pa ang ilang taong pakiramdam na nag-iisa ka lang. sa loob ng ilang taon kong pag-iisa, sa pagyakap sa katahimikan— ginulo mo 'ko. at yung gulo na yo ay hinahanap hanap ko hanggang ngayon.

hindi ko maisip na magmamahal ako ng ganto. yung hindi iniisip yung iba— walang pakielam sa kanila. yung hindi iisipin kung ano mangyayari sa susunod kasi nina-namnam ko yung pagkakataon na kasama kita. yung parang literal na nahihirapan akong huminga at maghanap ng ideya kung pano ipagpatuloy ang araw ko tuwing wala ka.

minsan ba naisip mo kung ano ikaw ngayon kung sakaling hindi tayo nagka-tagpo?—kasi ako, oo.

ang dami kong paano.

pa'no kung hindi ka nagpakulay ng buhok? —siguro sa paningin ko isa ka paring ordinaryo na nakikita ko madalas sa school na may nakakatawang kulay ng buhok.

pa'no kung hindi ako umattend ng foundation day?— hindi siguro ako magkakaron ng chance na makita ka kung sakali na nag-pakulay ka. at kung ikaw man ang hindi pumunta, siguro nabawasan ako ng porsyento sa buhay na makita yung taong hindi ko inakala na magpapabago sa pananaw ko sa buhay.

ang dami kong paano. pero lahat yun napunta sa 'bakit' at 'ano' ang dami kong tanong. minsan naiisip ko ano at bakit kaya?

bakit mo ako nagustuhan? oo, may nagkagusto sakin noon. kita ko paghanga nila pero lahat sila hindi ko nakitaan ng pagp-pursigi katulad ng nakikita ko sa'yo.

to loved but not to pursue

madalas ko masabi yan sa mga kaibigan ko kasi kahit ako nagtataka. bakit kaya ang dali nila magkagusto sakin pero wala sa mga daliri kung ilan yung sumubok na kuhanin ang loob ko? May pagkakataon na nasasaktan ako sa isipin na siguro nga gusto lang ako pero wala silang balak na sumubok kasi ganito lang ako .

sanay ako sa mga cheesy lines na banatan, yung may rhyming, punto, tapos mga salita talaga na makukuha ka. mabu-bulaklak na salita yung parang pag sinabi mo sa iba hindi sila makakatulog kakaisip sa kilig at saya—pero hindi yon yung gusto ko.

gusto ko yung katulad mo. gusto ko ikaw, ikaw at ikaw.

binusog mo 'ko hindi sa mga matatamis na salita. hindi sa mga mahangin at mahambog na banatan na cringe pakinggan.

pinuno mo ang isip at puso ko ng purong katotohanan. namangha ako—sobra. may tao pala na hindi takot sabihin ang pagiging imperpekto nila. yung hindi takot sabihin yung mga bagay na ginawa nilang mali at kung pa'no ito mai-tatama. yung hindi magsasabi ng mga pangako na parang saranggola lang na i-papalipad sa langit at kapag tinangay ng malakas na hangin bibitawan na lang bigla.

hahayaan kang tangayin ng hangin patungo sa kung saan, walang direksyon, walang patutunguhan, at walang kasama. iiwan ka pagkat wala na yung higpit ng hawak at 'di na magtatangka na hulihin ang pisi para lang bumalik ka.

naalala ko noong tinanong mo ako kung ano ang gusto at ayaw ko sa isang relasyon para gawin at maiwasan mo kung sakali — at aaminin ko. nagulat ako. may ganon pala na tao noh? yung isasantabi nararamdaman nila para lang malaman at unahin ang iyo. yung pipilitin n'ya na gawin yung isang bagay na alam n'ya at mo na ikabubuti mo kahit hindi s'ya sanay sa ganon.

naranasan n'yo na bang ma-trato ng tama? yung too good to be true para maniwala ka na mag ganon pala? kasi ako oo

simula nung nakasama kita.

—nag-iba lahat. natutunan kong magmahal nang hindi pinipilit. yung natural. hindi ka masasakal sa higpit ng hawak n'ya sayo.

if I would be given a chance to lock up somewhere— it would be inside your embrace.

hindi ako perpekto. marami akong pagkakamali sa buhay. marami akong toxic traits at mga pangit na bagay na pwede kong isa-isahin sa'yo— pero pinili mo parin ako.

pinili mong mahalin ako kahit sirang-sira ako. minahal mo 'ko sa lahat ng pagkakataon. hindi ako mahilig sa pangako, totoo.

simula sa araw na nalaman ko na ikaw na nangako ako na kung hindi ikaw, 'wag na lang. na kung 'di ikaw, 'di bale na. mas pipiliin ko pang maging mapag-isa kaysa sa maghanap ng iba na mamahalin maliban sayo. at kung dumating man tayo sa punto na parehas tayo gulong-gulo, hindi alam sa patungo, at kung ano ang gagawin. sana isipin mo na sa dami ng bagay na pwede pumagod sakin, hindi ako magdadalawang isip na umuwi sayo kasi ikaw ang pahinga ko.

at kapag pagod kana, hayaan mong maging tandayan ang yakap ko. at unan ang bisig ko na handang saluhin ka sa oras na ayaw mo na. hayaan mo maging pahinga natin ang isa't isa. mahal na mahal kita.

I love you. in all ways, always

loving you, yang.

12:33 pm

07-11-23

[99liners]

How about ksj tatamae snippet 🤣

i don't have enough for a snippet but i will go ahead and post a sneak peek from the total of 700 words that i have written so far :)) maybe the engagement to this might just push me enough to finally write it ugh.

but please guys, some other ideas too for the 5k milestone <33 i appreciate it, bbs.

🛐 aphotic spoiler ahead 🛐

his eyes always feel so heavy. black eyes bordering on deep chocolate brown when they reflect in the bright sunlight of cold seoul afternoons –  they remind you of deeply roasted almonds owing to the shape of his eyes. they hold such intense passion and drive. his smile is almost in contrast to the stories his eyes tell; the keyword being almost. a small smile peeked out onto your lips upon catching the gaze, to which, the male winked in reply before rejoining the conversation the men were having.

your eyes stayed glued on him even after he turned away, as you wondered if he was really letting loose for the tonight like he had informed you earlier during the car ride or he was still stuck in his business self. lately, you are not sure if there is even a difference between them. the two sides often melt into one another –his body acting as the melting body – but one thing is for sure; neither of them bear any resemblance to the man whom you should call a ‘husband’.

(yes, you guessed it right. the oneshot starts from the house party at the min house.)

#asks #anon #askjaim #5000 followers milestone #tatemae series #aphotic #spoiler #aphotic spoiler #still with queue

[klaiphen]

Lahat na lang ng ginawa ko parang hindi na tumama sa kanya pakiramdam ko hindi na ako tatama kasi ang tingin nya sa akin is lagi ako gagawa ng mali. Hindi naman ako perfect hindi ko kaya maging perfect kagaya ng ibang babae ganito na talaga ako may mga pinag daananan ako sa buhay ko na pinagsisihan ko kaya lahat ginagawa ko para itama ko un kasi alam ko nasa tamang tao na ako. Pero bat ganun lahat naman ng ginagawa ko para sa kanya kasi gusto ko sya mapasaya pero mali padin ung nagawa ko. Hindi ko alam san ba ako lulugar, gusto ko sumigaw kasi sobrang sakit na. Ako na lang ba lagi, ako na lang ba lagi iintindi ako na lang ba lagi uunawa, napapagod din ako hindi ba pwedeng ako naman kahit minsan lang. Kahit ngayon lang, nakakapagod na kasi pagod na ung puso ko maging mabait 😔

[incrediblethots]

Baka kaya tayo iniiwan ng mga taong mahal natin kasi baka merong bagong darating na mas okay. Na mas mamahalin tayo, yung taong hindi tayo sasaktan at paaasahin. Yung nag iisang taong mag tatama ng mali sa buhay natin. - famous lines ni Popoy sa One More Chance https://www.instagram.com/p/CjLbrZnJYDz/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=