#specifically pretentious lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

innuendostudios · 3 months

Text

youtube

by a wide margin the weirdest video essay I've ever release: List of Songs that Represent "Smart Music" Ranked from Most to Least Appropriate to Put in a Video Essay

this video is sponsored by Nebula, where you can watch ad-free and (sometimes, slightly) better edited versions of my videos for 40% off an annual subscription. just follow this link.

as a quick note: YouTube has already demonetized this video, as two different corporations are claiming copyright on recordings they do not own the copyright to - both are Creative Commons recordings of public domain music, that, in one case, YouTube has misidentified as a different recording, and, in the other, YouTube has the music in its database as under copyright despite it being having been released under CC BY-SA 3.0. I am disputing these false claims and will (hopefully) get whatever money I am owed, but, for now, YouTube is not paying me a dime for this.

so it would be a bigger help than usual if you would either watch the video on Nebula or back me on Patreon.

thanks. transcript below the cut!

List of Songs That Represent “Smart Music” Ranked From Most To Least Appropriate To Put In A Video Essay (And Presented In Drill Bit Order).

1. Clair de Lune, Debussy

This has been top dog ever since the teaser for Godzilla: King of the Monsters, and cemented its position against challengers with a showcase in Everything Everywhere All at Once. Said film could have been the shark-jumping moment where the song was irretrievably lost to irony, given directors Kwan and Scheinert (Daniels)’s style mercilessly marries the aesthetics of prestige and shitpost. Yes, despite its silliness, EEAAO is achingly sincere, but could the general public be trusted to recognize that? But then it won Best Picture, so apparently yes! Beautiful, delicate, to score a film or video with Clair de Lune signals a desire to be seen not only as an intellectual, but as an aesthete. The song could lose potency if the Clair de Lune sequence were parodied enough, but how does one parody EEAAO???

9. Gymnopedie No. 1, Satie

I fear we must, as a society, and as a community of video essayists, move on from Gymnopedie No. 1. It held the title longer than, I think, any champion previous, and for that it deserves merit. But its time is over. It is, like the phrase “mad dated,” mad dated. It is saying “lmao” out loud. Did you know the original screenplay for 2005 film The Island specifically stated that, in the weird culty enclave in which the film opens, Gymnopedie No. 1 must be playing over the loudspeaker? I don’t think Michael Bay followed that directive (I’m not rewatching the movie to find out), but that is how long this was the “Smart Music” song - since 5 months after YouTube launched. If you must - absolutely must - put Satie in a video essay, use Gnossienne No. 1, though it too is on its way to passe. At this point I’m prepared to say Vexations or GTFO.

2. Ave Maria, Schubert/Liszt

Nothing was certain after Satie vacated the throne, and for a while it seemed we might have a Starks vs. Baratheons situation between Schubert and Debussy. Following several appearances in pretentious YouTube videos, the Ave Maria made its strongest showing yet by scoring the opening scene of the grimdarkest Batman film so far, an entire twenty days before getting fully Lannister’d by Everything Everywhere All at Once. Unbowed, unbent, and unbroken, still she nips at the heels of the king, and may yet take his place. No one else poses a comparable threat. Hers is a curious strategy, being a religious, Christmas, and even classic Disney standard now repurposed as “Smart Music;” she gets a big boost every December, but can she take the top spot before this cyclical exposure nudges her back into a prior niche?

8. Moonlight Sonata, Beethoven

If you were in a film program in the mid-2000s, you are sick to death of Moonlight Sonata. Also if you were in a music class where you were asked to determine a song’s time signature by ear - how am I supposed to tell the difference between waltz time and 4/4 with all triplets without the sheet music in front of me? To say scoring a video with Moonlight Sonata is a hack move - you’d have to be a hack to not already know! This was the soundtrack to the blind cave salamander level of Earthworm Jim 2, there’s no coming back from that! I mean, the association with Tallarico Studios alone… It’s done. Roll over, Beethoven.

3. Cello Suite No. 1 (Prelude), Bach

This one is firmly-rooted. It is not going anywhere, both in the sense that nothing could soon push it off the list but it’s hard to imagine rising any higher. It is just slightly too beautiful, too expressive, too legato to fall into the stiffness of Habanera or the pomposity of a De Beers ad, but just close enough to them in tone to always read as a hipper alternative. So you’ll never be overexposed, but never go that long without hearing the Yo-Yo Ma version. And so here it stays, third on the podium, solid bronze, the waterbender, the Plup; with you as always is Prelude to Cello Suite No. 1. (Frankly surprised it took us this long to get to Johann, but don’t worry - he’ll be Bach.)

7. Air on the G String, Bach/Wilhelmj

Told ya. It’s not that she isn’t a beautiful piece of music, and it’s not that she already had her time. In truth, she never got her flowers. Inasmuch as she had a run, it was squished between the omnipresences of Beethoven and Satie. You’ll still hear from her now and then; she crops up, like a lucky penny. And you’ll smile, every time, but you know the stars in your eyes are not present joy, but nostalgia. A fondness for what was and what could’ve been - what should have been. Why - why couldn’t this have had the legs of Gymnopedie? I mean, even the Fucking Champs version - could that have made a run? Could TikTok pick up on it? But comes the day you have to accept - if it was gonna happen, it would’ve happened by now. Air on the G String grows weary; let her rest.

4. Duo des Fleurs, Delibes

Bit of a dark horse, this one. Didn’t exactly come out of nowhere - it’s been here the whole time - but you didn’t see it coming! It’s like that time I went snorkeling, and I wondered, “Where are the fish?” I was told there would be tropical fish, but all I saw was blue. Then I caught one flitting by my head and, as soon my eyes registered the shape, I realized they were everywhere! I just hadn’t taken them in. This is the one that makes you ask, where did I hear that before? Was this the one at the end of Margaret? No! How did it go? How do I hum dyads? But then it shows up and, oh yeah, that’s the one! The really pretty one. I knew it’d come around again. Has staying power, could make a run for the top if it sees an opening, but seemingly content, for now, to dance around the periphery, appreciated when heard if only half-remembered the next day.

6. Prelude in E Minor Op. 28 No. 4, Chopin

The bottom end of acceptability. Anything lower, you must avoid. But you can use Prelude in E. It is a risk, and it takes skill. But you can use Prelude in E. It is not for the faint of heart. This is the ending of Fez we’re talking about here. This is that one TED Talk about how everyone loves classical music they just don’t know it yet. This was all over Anatomy of a Fall. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer something lighter? Nocturne in E-flat [Op. 9 No. 2] is very nice. Prelude has just enough penetration that some people are going to recognize it, and enough clout that those who do are going to expect things of the person who puts it in a video essay. You can’t just throw this under a rant about The Snyder Cut. But you can - with care, with effort, and with grace - use Prelude in E.

5. Spiegel im Spiegel, Part

We are not ready for Spiegel im Spiegel. The rare “Smart Music” that is, rather than classical, contemporary minimalist. This is - I have been led to believe - all over the film festival circuit. It is the go-to for aspiring arthouse directors. So I assume it is only a matter of time until it reaches general cultural awareness. But we - the YouTube video essay community - are not, at this point in time, pretentious enough to pull off Spiegel im Spiegel. This is not a statement on the song: it is a lovely, sparse, and unpretentious piece of music, which is why pretentious people are drawn to it. And we are not there yet. But I believe in us.

POSTSCRIPTUM

The List of Songs that Represent “Smart Music” is not ranked by quality; they are all, as a baseline, masterpieces. They are ordered, instead, by their possession of antipodal qualities. Beethoven’s Fifth may be a beautiful piece but it’s too well-known - to the casual listener, it reads only as “classical music.” Vltava is a beautiful piece, but it’s not recognizable enough - to most, it will read only as “music.” Pachelbel’s Canon works in too many contexts. Mozart’s Lacrimosa no longer works in any context but “Shit’s About To Go Off.” The Song that Represents “Smart Music” must balance these humors: suggestive, but not too specific; recognizable, but not overfamiliar. The kind of thing one imagines cultured people listen to, and fancies oneself cultured for having noticed it. Just popular enough to signify obscurity to a large number of people.

This impossibility of being both popular and obscure is what keeps the list in motion. Many songs drift back into obscurity before reaching the top, but, once in the primary position, a song begins its slow procession to overexposure. And when, at last, it is too popular to be niche, it does not slip to number 2; it plummets to the bottom, as did Icarus.

Due to this slow but constant movement, new songs will, at intervals, join the ranks, taking the place of those that became gauche. And if, dear listener, you were aiming to trendset, to score your next whatever-it-is-you-do with the newest Song to Represent “Smart Music,” and were I a gambling man… Bach’s Prelude in C. And I’ll tell you why: it appears in the Netflix series Bodies alongside Chopin (#6), mirroring Satie’s dual appearance in The Queen’s Gambit (#9); its arpeggiated structure makes it usable in scenarios similar to the Cello Suite (#3) (Johann did love him some broken chords); and it forms the basis of the Gounod version of Ave Maria, if you would like a Cool Person’s Alternative to Schubert (#2). You may feel I’m playing too safe, but I tell you truly: this song is due. But if I can impart one piece of wisdom let it be this: whatever you do, whoever you are, you cannot use Fur Elise. You cannot. You can’t do it. It can’t be allowed. Don’t fu-

#video essay #Youtube

71 notes · View notes

lilacstro · 3 months

Text

pac: what do your tumblr followers think about your blog

this was a seemingly unserious silly idea haha, lets go. this actually is very not serious, so if you dont even have a blog, you can pick a pile, and if you have one but dont post much or dont have much followers, maybe its your sign that your account might match the description in some while. haha, regardless, enjoy<33

this reading is not for you if you are hate blogger or spread hate/misinfo through your account :/

paid readings are open :)

pile 1 pile 2 pile 3

support me on ko-fi :)

Pile 1

Haha, it seems some of you could post a lot, and your followers do enjoy it. For some majority of you, you could also be into posting manifestation, self help related kinda content. There is an empowering and uplifting energy and some kind of strong feminine energy about your blog indeed. Looks like you guys actually might post a specific genre of content and your blog overall is quite organized. Some of you could also post about things like, spreading awareness on/donation links for gaza? or ukraine? or other such things, it was coming through, and your followers support you for choosing to post this actively. I also feel you maybe are kind of an old blogger? someone who has been on here posting for a while, some of your followers might actually like to read your posts when they are free or as stress relivers, in free times or look forward to your posts. I can understand this tbh, I also liked this one blog named something luciddownloading but i cant seem to find it, ig they activated their blog and it was super sad, I hope you all keep on posting, you should get the transaction you receive if you arent, and if your blog is doing well, it is possible that it gets even better. For some of you, if you are thinking about making money through tumblr somehow, it seems possible too!! all the best and I hope it resonated.

Pile 2

Some of you here might be beauty bloggers or actually post a variety of content, or have some quirky username haha but it seems you put a lot of thought in your blog. For some of you, you might have just started posting, or your schedule might not let you post as much as you like. Some of you might even be very non judgmental and post or reblog the things you like, your blog seems like a collection of things you like rather and not really following up with some specific aesthetic, but it still looks gorgeous. Some of you might also be into posting the blunt/honest truth posts/ unpopular opinions and I see your followers appreciate that. For some of you a message is, if you are holding back thinking what you should post/post how often or on what. just take a leap or action and start. Don't think about it too much, tumblr def needs one of your cute lil blogs even if you don't post something very big/important. Start and eventually you should know. Some of you also might do secret girl blogging lmao. your account has a lot of potential to flourish if it isnt already if you dont be pretentious and post what you really love honestly, whatever that is :)

Pile 3

Your blog definitely seems to have readers from all places or countries, for some of you specifically it seems like an astro-blog/spiritual blog. Some of you might have started recently too. Regardless of whatever, your account might see a lot of transaction if it isn't already or may actually see good engagement usually. You definitely seem to put a lot of hard work in your blog, I am getting specifically for explaining things or revealing things, and I'm strongly getting a astro/tarot/witchcraft kinda blog, some of you may actually also post random thoughts/feelings/poems kind of things that you end up saving on a pintrest board. There is a lot of scope for this being a well engaged account too. Your followers definitely seem to think your blog has a lot of comforty, earthy vibe to it haha. although most of you seem regular bloggers, just incase for a few of you im saying dont give up on your blog yet if you want to, a lot of people actually admire your posts and they will just keep on growing. your blog is well loved by people who come across/read it. so dont just go yet<33

thanks for reading a silly little reading. Have a good day <3

122 notes · View notes

ch4nb4ng · 1 year

Text

Over the 8 seas: Jisung

Pairing: afab!reader x jisung

Word count: 9.1k … (yeah we got off track on this one)

Warnings : dom!jisung, sub!reader, lots of mentions of breast, masturbation (m and f), titty fucking (?), intercourse, mentions of male ejaculation, praise, perv (jisung is a massive perv lmao), Inspo (warning: it’s literally porn), male aggression, mentions of intoxication and alcohol.

Note: welcome to another installment !! tagging @j-0ne25 bc they wanted to be tagged:) hope you enjoy :))))

Summary: One thing leads to another when Jisung admits to having his eyes on you when he definitely shouldn’t have.

Over the 8 seas masterlist

The salt of the air, the combination of the water and descending of the sunrise was not only the signal of the closing day, but the winding down of the summer season for another year. The peak was over, and that meant your stress levels could go back to what they were before this all started.

Lifting a very heavy weight off of your shoulders meant there would be less things to do and people to worry about. Yes, Bondi was one of the busiest beaches, but as soon as March hit, most of the tourists were gone, and it was nothing but pretentious locals walking the dogs along the shore, or running along the beach line at 6:30am before the typical 9-5 office job. It’s not like you were judging all 9-5 goers, just specifically the joggers, because you couldn't remember the last time you had a decent interaction with one of them.

The back of your hand came to your forehead, swiping the precipitated skin as you took what felt like a seat in a long time. A sigh of relief came from your lips, exasperated from the variety of missing children, adults illegally bringing and littering alcohol bottles on public property, oh boy, the people who did not swim between the flags. It was a long day, meaning that you were looking forward to just slumping down on the couch and watching another episode of whatever HBO series you were watching with a heavy pour of red wine.

“What a fucking day,” Jisung sighed, scaring the complete shit out of you.

“Jesus Jisung,” you cried, almost falling out of your seat. Your reaction made him chuckle, throwing his hands in the air like a weapon had been pointed directly at him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jisung was one of your oldest friends at the beach. He is one of the only people that have worked at the beach for as long as you have. Always keen, eager, motivated. Helping others was the joy he got from life. Jisung possessed many qualities that you wish you possessed. Patience, warm heartedness. It was easy to fall for Jisung, and you have a couple of times. It was just too bad that your job got in the way and the minute detail of Jisung having a girlfriend most of the time. You thought that maybe this was it for you. Time to give up.

“It’s okay Sungie,” you giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful manner, “today was crazy, wasn’t it?”

“That’s an understatement,” he scoffed, turning away and opening the communal fridge, grabbing out a sandwich. He turned back around, sitting next to you. Your gaze became one of disappointment.

“Don’t tell me that’s your lunch?”

He shrugged in response, “It’s okay. Like you said, today was busy right?”

A hint of anger simmered in your heart. It was admirable yet frustrating that this was kind of the person he was. So selfless that he never put himself first. Taking care of himself last. This was something that he was adamant about. Something he always did from the day you met him.

“Still,” you playfully smacked him again, “you have to take care of yourself first before anyone else.”

He took another bite of his food, resting the calloused palm that was his right hand on your right knee. He gave you a look. One that mixed gratitude, but there was something else, something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His lips almost trembled, like he was hesitant, nervous to say something.

“Y/n, you don’t have to worry about me,” he whispered, like for some reason he was worried that someone would hear, like a big secret, “I know you do and I appreciate it, but I’m okay.”

Jisung’s body language was the catalyst for the tension in the room suddenly changing. He leaned closer, the hair on your skin rising with each movement. His gaze was to the floor, but yours was stuck on him. Was this finally the moment that you had been secretly hoping for? The gentle kiss of the perfect man that has been by your side the whole time? Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, really not sure what you were supposed to be anticipating. Jisung was a man that held his cards close to his chest.

“Y/n, I-”

You blinked a couple times, making sure that you were not dreaming and that it truly was a real moment.

“Yeah?” your stare practically glued to him, his features, any indication that he was giving to help you understand any cognitions he was having. But he was like an actor: able to hide and convey his emotions when appropriate. There was not one flaw to this man, and it was slowly killing you on the inside how long this was taking, even this event was anything.

“I-”

“Summer is fucking over let’s go!”

For fucks sake. You almost fell out of your chair once more, having the second fright of your life when you heard the loudmouth that was Changbin walk into the tearoom with just way too much energy for someone who was at the end of their shift. He froze in his step, already seeing too much between you and Jisung.

“You guys okay?”

“What? Oh yeah,” you huffed, hitting the air with your palm, “just tired from a long day, right Jisung?”

Your eyes widened at him, sincerely hoping he would not blow your cover of whatever it was that just happened.

“Yeah, super tired, only eating my lunch now.”

The smile on your face faded gently as you got up, placing your coffee cup in the sink. “Fuck,” you whispered, dropping your phone on the floor. Jisung, of course being the gentleman he was, noticed and dropped the floor with you in an attempt to pick it up for you. What you didn’t expect to see was where his eyes landed. It was only for a split second, but it was enough to make the heat in your cheeks rise. You were right, this particular lifeguard shirt was that little too big for you, however, what you didn't expect was Jisung, the man that could be by defined chivalry and dismantled the patriarchy taking advantage of said gap, with his eyes. They were wide too, like it was a kid finding their favorite flavored lollipop in a candy store. It really was enough for you to squeeze the fabric together as the two of your rose. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, if anything it was the opposite. It was more just to save face as Changbin was still lingering around with his very unwanted presence that the current moment. He still, between the ogling, managed to pick up your phone.

“Here,” he mumbled, now unable to look at you completely.

“Thanks,” you smiled, a silence filling the room as the two of you stared, unsure whether to mention the tension in the air coming to an all time peak. Did he know that he had been caught? Were you perceiving this completely wrong? It was one thing to accuse the guy of staring at your tits, it was another to embarrass him in front of his other colleague and superior when it may not have even been true. An objective perspective, however, could see that there was so much more, the layers of chemistry was an overwhelming revelation.

“What the fuck is up with you guys?”

Heads snapped simultaneously, a look of disdain causing your cheeks to turn upwards and the lack of manners Changbin, with his legs spread wide, chewing and talking, yelling, interfering with his mouth open. Crunchy flakes crusting on the sound of his mouth.

“Jesus christ, Changbin,” your mouth was upturned in the most disgust, “ever heard of talking after swallowing your food?”

“Yeah dude” Jisung scoffed, “I love you and all, but you really have to learn how to act like you're not a neanderthal sometimes.”

The adult child scoffed, a large chunk of corn flake coming out.

“You guys stop deflecting, and just fuck.”

An audible gasp was heard from the bellows of your throat.

“Changbin,” Jisung growled, chest beginning to puff, “what the fuck-”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, placing a hand on his chest to deflate him a little, “Changbin, that is so inappropriate. I understand this is a friendly environment and we are friends, but I will not be disrespected in the workplace like this. Don’t make this hostile, otherwise I will report you, do you understand?”

The young man nodded, small, suddenly closing his legs and off from the two of you, eating the rest of his food in peace. Wanting to evade the awkwardness, you nudged Jisung, signaling him to leave with you. He was flabbergasted, not used to seeing you talk like this. Maybe it was an overreaction from you. Maybe because part of you wished it was true. It was still unprofessional to say, especially in front of others.

Walking into the locker/shower room was fine, needing to grab yourself. So did Jisung too. Another silence fell over as the two of you packed your things for the day.

“Do you think I was too harsh?” you questioned, closing your locker door behind you.

“Not at all,” Jisung reassured you, following your actions with the locker door, “it’s super inappropriate to talk like that at work?”

“Right? And where would he even get that from?”

A forced laugh came from your lips. Definitely not from the way you were exchanging lingering looks for an abnormally long time. Not him staring at the gap in your shirt. There was definitely no reason for Changbin to come to such a conclusion.

“Yeah,” Jisung scoffed, way too loud to be convincing, “that’s crazy talk.”

“Definitely. Anyways, I’m going to have a shower and then go. Did you need anything from me?”

“Uh,” scratching the back of his head, he became stuck in thought, “not that I can think of.”

“Okay,” you smiled, heading into the stall, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He nodded, about to turn and leave, but it was when you forgot to completely close the stall, and he detected out of the peripheral vision of his right eye that your hands were above your head, initiating the process of discarding your clothes. Was this a test for him? He wasn’t sure. But he was willing to take the bait. Creeping to the side of the stall, Jisung had a perfect view of you, your bikini top resting atop your chest. He had never been so jealous of a piece of clothing in his life. He had to stop his breathing when it was then discarded next, the image of your breasts, almost like relieving themselves from a hard day of work, they escaped the suffocating clothing, well in his mind they were suffocating. He really had never been so attracted to someone in his life. Jisung could feel the tent in his pants approaching as soon as the water was turned on and you were standing under it. A simple hum escaped your lips as you allowed the cascading stream of steamy water to enclose your body, tiny droplets pitter pattering across your chest, the intensity of the water making your nipples hard; Jisung was in heaven.

The only part of you that he was focused on was your chest. Jisung did not even take a second to notice your glistening arms, legs or waist. He was so fixated that he truly forgot where he was. It baffled him that you failed to notice his presence there, hard, longing for you in an amount he never had before.

The water felt nice. It was able to help you relax from the intense situation you had found yourself in. Almost a little too much. Your mind couldn’t help but wander, traveling to the multitudes of scenarios that popped up from the various half and hour of being that close to Jisung. It was easy to take those times further, the storytelling part of your brain was exquisite. It’s what helped come to the visually pleasing image as you closed your eyes, hands roaming across your hips, stomach, waist, chest. Exactly where he was looking. You knew better than to do what you were about to do at this very moment; but you couldn't help it. Forgetting where you were was way too easy as your fingers attached themselves to the sensitive nubs, gently pinching and squeezing in such a comfortable way. A gentle groan came from your lips as one hand flicked, the other massaged the corresponding breast, now a multitude of soft whimpers and moans spilling from your throat, quiet in a poor attempt of making sure no one heard. But you didn't know any better. This was almost an everyday ritual, whether at home or here, it did not matter. When you have privacy (or so you thought) it was a moment alone when you were at peace with yourself. Your mind, however, is always racing, consuming thoughts of him. Jisung was the perfect man in your eyes. So care free and fun, while simultaneously respectful. It was almost impossible that such a man existed.

Or so you thought, because when the moment he saw you reach for what he considered to be those beautifully shaped nipples, his jaw was on the floor, slack in complete disbelief at the idea of you just touching yourself like that, in public, door open, anyone able to walk in at any moment. Maybe that’s the hottest thing he found about this. That you were so confident yet concurrently careless. Fuck, were you doing this on purpose?

It didn’t matter, because even when your fingers disappeared from your chest down to your core, the damp tingling in between your legs, he paid no mind, truly fascinated at how they got harder with each passing second. Jisung was careless about his own hardening body parts, truly in a trance of how beautiful he perceived your actions to be. He didn’t even think about it in a way that was nasty, hot, sexy, even though it was. He was in a truly mesmerized state, one that he could stay in forever. Even when you were leaning against the wall of the stall, hips caressing your fingers, getting closer and closer to the edge. It wasn’t until he heard footsteps vaguely close to the locker room that he shit himself, a quick step into the empty stall next to him until it was gone. It was only then he realized the ramifications of his actions. An immense level of guilt washed over his body at the epiphany. What made it worse was that he was still completely erect, cock far from cooling off even though the hurts that swiped across his mind were telling him how disgusting he was. He felt betrayed by his brain, like he was a massive hypocrite. If he was being honest, any chance he got he took the chance to stare at your chest. A split second when you’re talking to him. When you can see him, when you think he can’t. Jisung was a dirty boy with a pervasive mind. He even remembered the first time he did it.

You were standing there, back to Jisung, innocently taking your top off and turning around to him, bikini only as you were having a serious conversation about supplies or funding or some fucking irrelevant shit about the beach; his actual fucking job.

Like yourself, he prided himself on being respectful, a gentle gentleman. Chivalrous, everything you described him to be, he was; on the outside; but Jisung truly, was a dirty boy with a pervasive mind.

Panic began to flood his limbs as he tiptoed as fast as he could, grabbing his stuff and heading for the door. He was whipped lashed, however, by Felix, the younger amateur lifeguard that he very much forgot he promised to give a ride home. He was way too distracted by a pair of boobs, but he was also very much in denial about it.

“Jisung?”

He said nothing, instead turning to the boy who had a confused look on his face.

“I’ve been waiting for half an hour for you. Didn’t you finish at 6?”

Fuck, 30 mins he spent staring at your fucking chest. To jisung however it still wasn’t enough.

“What? Oh, yeah I had to help Y/n with putting some equipment away, sorry dude I should have texted you.”

“Oh that’s cool,” Fliex shrugged, really unsure how to interpret Jisung’s face. It truly was like he had just seen a ghost.

What it really was, however, was the lingering guilt, disgust, repulsion he felt for himself in the moment. Even the drive home was quiet, unable to even comprehend the music playing. Jisung was really just going through the motions as he dropped Felix off, parked his car, walked into his apartment and threw his shit on the ground, falling in the shape of a snow angel on his bed.

He pondered as he stared at the ceiling, robot-like actions coming to a halt, the familiar feelings of disgust and guilt coming back. The way he opened your instagram late at night and jerked off to almost all of your pictures. You were his best friend, he really shouldn’t think of you like that.

You, on the other hand, were no better. The similar, perverted thoughts consumed your mind as well. You just fucking masturbated at your place of work, to your coworker, in a public space that anyone could have seen. Your extremely sexy and attractive coworker, but that didn’t make it better.

A shower at home, again, was enough for the moment to rid yourself, quite literally wash yourself off your sin. Forget the mind boggling orgasm that was provoked by the thought of Jisung being close to you. It was back to grandma mode for you, glasses on, side lamp on and reading a book to help you fall asleep. Your mind was back at peace, partly wanting to forget today. It was always a lingering thought in your mind.

Your lids were shutting, on the verge of falling into a deep sleep, that was, until your phone buzzed, almost falling off your side table as you opened one eye, groaning in annoyance that you had to check it. Huh? J-han00 liked your post? You didn’t post a pic. Your curiosity got the better of you, clicking on the notification. But as soon as you did, opening instagram, it was gone. What an idiot you thought. Stalking you. The smile on your face, on the contrary, told another story. It didn’t matter, because it was time to sleep, and you did like a baby.

It was when you got to work, the calmness and lack of regret switched into full blown anxiousness and real regret, because your heart sank to your ass when you saw him. But you couldn't forget that you were a leader. You were the managing lifeguard of the fucking Bondi beach. You knew better than to let this little crush overtake your very serious work. A born leader does not walk away when the going gets tough.

Today, thank god, was an admin day for you. No active duty. This meant you got to sit at your desk, closed off from the others. A sigh of relief came from your lips from the fact that any necessary interactions with Jisung had not occurred. Your bag was on the floor, you sitting in your chair as you opened your laptop, connecting it with your desktop. It was somewhat annoying how long it took this ancient system to reboot. If anything you could fall asleep at the turtle pace. What did keep you awake, however, was the triple knock that came from the opposite of your door.

“Come in.”

Failing to turn around was a mistake, the familiar voice of your friend on the receiving end of your cold gesture.

“Hey Y/N,” Jisung mumbled, resulting in you turning around to face him. Fuck. He actually did his hair today. The gel pricked strands pushed up, exposing the bare skin that covered his forehead. Clothes looked together, a tank with the sleeves cut off. His shoulders had not been exposed like that for a while. Suddenly you were feeling hot, hastily grabbing the water in your bag, sculling generously before actually acknowledging his presence with words.

“Jisung? Hey, how are you this morning?”

The sudden memory of your, well, activities last night flooded into your mind like an emergency tsunami; currently consuming all of your thoughts. You were unable to look at him straight. Was it him or was it you? Did he actually put in an effort, or did the lenses of your vision and how you perceive Jisung suddenly change?

“I’m good. Uhm,” his voice was quiet, swaying his foot from side to side as he looked at the ground in front of him and not at you, “I just wanted to clear up something with you.”

Oh shit. This could literally be anything. But he did not look like his usual self. Jisung was far from the nervous type.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh uhm, just the like on your profile by accident. It wasn’t me. I was with some mates and I-”

“Oh,” you replied, tone oblivious, “you liked my photo? I didn’t see.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened, face turning red at his unnecessary admission, “yeah, I, nevermind.”

“Is that all today?”

Your smile was kind, wanting to make him feel comfortable. The tension between the two of you since yesterday was tense, wound up if you will. It still, however, did not need to get in between your work.

“I wish, “ he chuckled, posture now upright and returning back to the man you know, “there’s a couple of drunk people on the beach. We want to kick them off but they won't leave unless they talk to a supervisor.”

An excessive eye roll took over your vision. Drunk people on the beach were the worst. Just always taking it too far and a complete hassle to get rid off. He felt bad coming to you also, knowing that this was your least favorite thing to deal with.

“ For fucks sake,” you scoffed, getting up from your seat, “Australian’s are just bunch of fucking alcoholics.”

Without thought, you grabbed the yellow shirt out of your bag, practically ripping off your current attire, completely. You were too consumed by rage to realize that you were now bra and bikeshorts only. Jisung quickly turned the other way, even though he really did not want to.

“Right,” he mumbled, not wanting to interrupt your vigorous rant, “yeah, crazy stuff.”

“Like it’s midday and they’re already smashed? Go to your fucking 9-5.”

The current oblivion was a disaster for you, because once again, you failed to realize that Jisung was still in the room with you, and now creeping those perverted eyes back to your body. A frustrated hand ran through your own hair, pacing back and forth as words continued to be spewed a consistent string of curse words. He knew it really shouldn’t have turned him on, but it did. Mainly because half your tits were out and you were cursing back and forth, easy to fuel his desires of what you would sound like under him, on top of him. It didn’t matter, it was not what was important right now.

It felt like years of waiting for you to dress yourself, grab a walkie talkie and head out to the beach to confront these losers. Ah of course, there they were. Two quite large, muscular men laughing their heads off, sitting right next to the water: idiots. It was easily audible how drunk they were by the mass slurring of words when trying to converse.It wasn’t a difficult task to kick intoxicated people off of the beach, but you were reducing someone from being unable to swim any day of the week. Jisung followed you in pursuit, not wanting to take over his supervisor. You approached slowly, unsure how they were going to react to the news of being kicked off.

“Good afternoon gentleman, how are we doing today?”

The two said nothing, instead bursting with laughter at the sight of you.

“What seems to be the entertainment here guys?”

They smiled again, looking at each other before the one closest to the shore line spoke.

“You’re the supervisor are ya?”

“Yes I am.”

The two laughed, again. Great. Two misogynistic, drunk pricks. Today was supposed to be the first day of relaxation, not even on active duty. But of course there had to be people that always made your job that more difficult. Jisung went to step forward, but you placed your hand on his chest, motioning that you’ve got this in the bag.

“Is there an issue with that?”

“We w-want to speak t-to a r-real s-”

“Well I’m all there is. My colleague has asked you nicely to please leave the beach as you are currently committing a crime or we will call the police and have you forcibly removed.”

It was the first time they had paid attention to you, the look of humor on their faces quickly dissipating, turning into anger. Their eyebrows were furrowed as they attempted to stand, swaying quite a bit before stepping closer, a poor strive at intimidation as they puffed their chests in an overbearing compensation of masculinity. Yes, they were much taller, and bigger, but they were certainly no match for you.

“You heard her,” Jisung grumbled, fitting in between the small gap between you and this hideous man, “leave or we will kick you off.”

“Wow you think you’re a tough guy huh,” he chuckled, now pressing his chest up against your fellow colleague. The last you wanted is for him to get into a fist fight with two very intoxicated individuals. You nudged him to the side once again, wanting to relieve some of the tension that was unfolding at this moment. You couldn’t help but let the small part of your mind admire the way he stood up for you. Like he would take a bullet for you in a heartbeat. Jisung really was the most urbane human you had the pleasure of meeting, so you would die if anything happened to him because of you.

“Let’s not be brash so we can all come to a single understanding.”

“Fuck that,” he scoffed, “we aren’t d-doing anything ill-iilegal.”

“Listen here buddy,” you growled, patience beginning to wear thin, “you are breaking the law by bringing a substance prohibited on the beach, as well as public intoxication, though I’m sure you’re not too capable of understanding a word I just said, did you?”

They said nothing, instead the quiet one pushing you into the water, head hitting the crushed up shells digging into the back of your head. The shore line washed over your face, eyes crippling with what felt like fire as the salt water took over your eyesight. Mumbled voices could be heard from the water. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes at the embarrassment and humiliation you felt at this current moment. The only thing you could concentrate on was the limbs, hands, fingers reaching out to lift you up, opening your eyes, you took the invitation, standing up next to them. Pulling out the walkie talkie, you pressed the button, speaking into it,

“Did you get that over?”

“Yup,” Hyunjin replied to the speaker, “the police have just arrived and are walking over to the two of you. Can you see them, over?”

“We can, thanks Hyunjin, over.” Luckily there were always people watching from the tower.

Jisung’s first concern was you, the police already over and standing in front of the two humans that you could barely call men. Jisung, seeing as you were a little bit out of it, eyes red from the acidity of the water, explained what happened. A police report would need to be filled out, but that was something that could be done later. Now wanting to interact or provoke them again, you fled the scene quickly, running back to your office and slamming the door behind you. Do not disturb the sign on the door. That sign was only used for when you were on conference calls or competing for confidential information about beach goers or staff. Today, however, was a cop out excuse to use it.

A couple of tears choked you as you checked the back of your head in the mirror, making sure there were no lumps and cuts from the rough beach surface. It was one thing to be disrespected, it was another to be looked down on for who you are. It was always disheartening, and you don’t know if being a woman in a male dominated industry would ever get easier.

A knock interrupted your feel sorry for yourself session, but you ignored it, not wanting to face any of your staff that all saw you fall flat on your ass. Your staff would never make fun of you for such a thing, but it did bruise your ego a little bit. The knock came again, followed by you continuing to ignore. It wasn’t until the knock was persistent, a small voice coming from the other side.

You were thankful, however, that out of all the people that could be at your office door, it was Jisung. He stormed in, closing the door behind him.

“Jisung I’m really busy I-”

“Shush,” he hissed, turning your chair in front of him, grabbing your arm, and sitting you down. He dropped to his knees, spreading your legs apart so he could scooch in between. A small torch appeared in the palm of his hands, the switch flicked and swiftly brought to your eyesight. Of course. A concussion test. Maybe it was just an excuse to be close to you. It didn’t matter, because Jisung’s closeness was something that you always craved, in any form.

“Jisung I don’t have concussion,” you sighed, “I’m not in the mood for fun antics.”

“I know but it sounded pretty hard when you fell. Look to the left, I wanted to make sure you were fine.”

It was unfair to be harsh to Jisung, especially when he was being caring and kind. He really didn’t need to do any of this.

“I’m fine, just a little embarrassed,” you mumbled, causing Jisung to grab your chin with his thumb and index finger.

“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.”

His face was close, eyes boring into you while he attempted to console you. The feeling of the room was the same as the one yesterday, when your phone fell to the floor. It had to be an invitation. It had to be a sign.

“I don’t?”

Your voice was soft, fear that it would crack and ruin what was becoming an intimate moment.

“Never. Those guys are the ones that should be embarrassed. You’re a great lifeguard. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.”

It was this moment, the brief seconds of silence in between Jisun’s last words, and the way he was looking at you, that you lunged forwards, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his. The kiss was short, because you pulled away, coming to the realization that this was crazy. Your jaw dropped, arms withdrawing from and and the left hand covering your mouth.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry I-”

Jisung took the hand from your mouth that was covering your mumble. His smile was big, giddy almost, as he took you in again, this time his hands cupping each side of your face as he returned the first unrequited kiss, much more vigor applied to your lips. Eyes fluttering shut, Jisung glided his lips together with yours, things heating up at a rapid rate as his tongue begged for entrance. You complied, a soft groan releasing from your throat at how good his tongue felt. The sudden sensation of touch was imminent to you. His hands on your face, the texture of them felt so strong, and what you could equate to this longing of closeness that you always desired towards him. Your arms came to his chest, scrunching the material and you brought his body closer, any part of him that you wanted you could get.

“Wait,” he mumbled, pulling away in a sudden movement of desperation, “I can’t do this.”

Your heart sank, face heated at the new level of humiliation you didn’t know was even possible. Was he really about to shatter your heart into a million pieces? Even if he did, you knew that you wouldn’t be that sad, purely because he would do it in a way that was so polite and gentle. Unlike you.

“Can’t do what?”

The guilt was eating him up alive. He knew he had to confess to his sinful desires before doing anything. It felt unfair any other way. He took a step back, standing up with his hands behind his back.

“I have to be honest with you.”

“Okay?”

“I, yesterday, after the locker room, when I ‘went home,’ I didn’t go home.”

Your wrinkles in your forehead became apparent at the confusion in what he was about to say.

“Okay?”

“Fuck, I noticed that you left the shower door open and well, fuck how do I even say this?”

“Just spit it out,” you mumbled. The anticipation was killing you inside.

“I was watching you.”

At first, a swipe of anger coursing through your veins. Why the fuck would Jisung, the well known individual for gentleman like behaviours would watch you shower. You stood up,chest on your hand as you subtly walked closer to him. His eyes went straight to the digits that lay along there. He couldn’t believe he was still doing this. Confessing to you his dirty secret while also still partaking in it at the same time.

“You were watching me shower?”

Fuck he couldn’t even look you in the eye now. Full shame taking over his body, every fiber of him. This was the most humiliating moment of his life. You weren’t far behind however, because when your mind traveled back to last night’s shower, you weren’t exactly using it for showering purposes either. Oh my god. You had to find out what it was he actually saw.

“Yes. I watched you shower. I saw you, taking your shirt off, bikini, panties, all of it. The way the shower water trickled down your body, over those beautiful tits. I saw everything.”

The vulgarity of his words took you by surprise. It was never the way you had heard your friend speak. Part of you is surprised that he would take it that far; but part of you is not. There were multiple times that you had caught him staring at your chest. You were still speechless however, unsure if you should still ask, did he see everything? You could tell Jisung was getting nervous too, seeing as you had no reaction or slight verbal communication. Honestly, he was dying on the inside, and if you didn’t speak now, he might explode.

“Are you mad?”

His voice came out small, but honestly, you didn’t know if you were or not. Your gaze left his eyes for a moment, consumingly drifting down to his shorts. Surely he wasn’t hard from this conversation? Oh my god he was fucking hard. The tent in his pants was impossible to miss. You took a step closer, Jisung biting down on his bottom lips, eyes not moving a millimeter as he watched you come closer and closer.

“Y/n, please,” he whined, desperate to know your inner thoughts, “are you mad? I’m really sorry, if you want to fire me-”

“Fire you?”

He hated that he found your tone of voice so seductive right now. It just made his eyes want to flutter shut, listen to your voice like an ASMR video that he found deeply pleasurable. He knew that you noticed his cock tenting in his pants, but he didn’t care. It was already out in the open that he was perv, hiding it would just be a waste of energy. The more you looked at him, the quicker the anger or any negative emotion of that matter faded. It made you curious. Almost like testing the waters. Using some force, you took a wrist from behind his back, opening up the closed fist and hovering it over your pussy. His jaw was agape, but you could tell that’s not where he wanted to touch you most.

“I don’t want to fire you, and no I’m not mad, if anything, I’m kind of flattered.”

Once you placed his own hand over your shirt, it was game over. Jisung’s lips smashed against yours, tongue begging for access as soon as the two of you collided. Hand that was free digging into your hips on one side, hands already placed staying where it was as he walked you back, the curve of your ass soft hitting the front of your desk. Jisung’s hard on was rubbing against the side of your leg. Sitting atop of the desk and spreading your legs, you invited him to come in closer, now able to feel it against your rutting crotch. The ache was already far from dull, but it didn't matter. You wanted this to last as long as possible. The do not disturb sign was up, and the walls were mostly soundproof, so it really could be dragged out as long as you wanted, no softness needed.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, breaking away to breathe for a split moment, “your lips are so soft.”

He continued to break away, spreading a multitude of kisses across your cheek, down your jawline, to your ear lobe. The Jisung you knew before was already gone, and you could see from the darkness in his eyes that this was who he really was.

“Jisung,” you gasped in between, his teeth gently nibbling on the peachy skiing texture, “what happened? I thought you were such a gentleman?”

“That’s just a facade,” he whispers, licking a thick stripe of the side of your neck, “I’m anything but a gentleman, and now I'm going to show you me, the real me.”

His teeth dove into the easily accessible skin that met your neck and collarbone. A deep groan, one of shock , bellowed your throat, Jisung sucking in the most sensitive skin you had. He kept his hand firmly on your left tit, kneading and massaging it as much as he could without losing control of himself. If he had a dollar for everytime he thought about wanting to do this, he would never have to work again. It was something that constantly consumed his cognitions. Even his subconscious if he knew what was in there. Jisung was a filthy animal that had nothing but brain rot for you and your tits. He wasn't endeavoring it, like you had planned to yourself, but the impatience was growing. You swatted his hand away, lifting your arms and giving him the single to take it off. The noise was loud when it hit the concrete floor, still wet from the tow douchebags. But Jisung didn’t care. All he could focus on was that fact that this was the first time you were voluntarily exposing yourself to him. The guilt he once had was gone, and the fact that he was in a way being rewarded is what baffled his mind. His face let your shoulder, giving you a look.

“Wait, can you, do you have, it’s probably too much to ask.”

Your chest was heaving up and down, very fast, symbolic of the past couple of minutes before you could answer.

“Is this something you think about when you think of me?”

“Honestly, yeah. It’s your bikini top.”

“Oh,” you smirked, reaching underneath your desk and grabbing the desired item out of your bag, “you mean this?”

Jisung’s eyes lie up like a christmas tree as you gently unclasped your bra, watching the way it elegantly fell across your waist and to the floor. Jisung was much more fixated on covering yourself back up with the flimsy piece of fabric rather than your actual naked upper body itself. Once the material covered the front, you turned around, pointing to the strings from behind.

“Could you help me tie them up?”

Your voice was low, seductive, putting the man beside you in a trance, hands sliding up the sides of your body until they reached your upper back. His fingers were delicate, the feeling of his calloused palms removed as he tied the strings to each other, perfect bows in length and strength. Once he spun you back around, he pressed another sensual kiss to your lips, this time completely intending to completely devour you and your lips. It was working, because the longer his lips were lingeried, the stronger the throb between at your core. Jisung was already attractive enough as it was, but it hit you again like a ton of bricks. The way his lips, hands, body, his whole being worshiping the ground you walked on. The sweet mixture of his care and attention mixed with the saltiness of his perverted desires was making your mind spin, and he really hadn’t even done anything yet.

He pulled away, another smoke coating his lips as he looked at you with heavy lust.

“I was going to make you get on your knees, but you can sit on your chair if you like, wouldn't want those pretty knees to get bruised do we?”

“Use me however you want Jisung.”

You wanted to comply, partly because Jisung’s lust driven haze was controlling your mind, but also because it was nice to have someone take control for once. The last thing you wanted to do after a day of work was take care of more people. It was honestly a fantasy of being marched around, told what to do, and Jisung was about to fulfill this perfectly.

It was his turn to undress himself, taking no time to undo the drawstring on his yellow shorts, swiftly removing boxers in one motion as he stood closer. The way his cock sprung free, like it was beginning to release almost made you drool. You opened your mouth automatically, assuming that you were going to have the delight of tasting him, but he had other plans. Jisung gave himself a few strokes of relief before lining himself up with your chest; ah, now you understand. Lifting your hands from your side, you pushed your tits together, the contact of his tip with your chest making you gasp. His cock slid very easily in the space created by your hands, Jisung’s head rolling back automatically once he moved back and forth. This would not have been something you thought about doing, but you’re glad that Jisung has these dirty ideas of his own, because you were moving every second. Taking one hand away from your chest you placed it at the base of his cock, making sure that all of his cock was receiving the love that was the sensation of your body, your touch.

“Oh my god,” Jisung growled, voice deep in thought, “I can’t believe how good this feels.”

“I’m glad,” you giggled, enjoying with much innocence this was affecting Jisung, “I bet you’ve thought about this many times.”

Your whole body was moving with each thrust, Jisung’s movements increasing with stamina the more he lost himself in the pleasurable feeling.

“Wait,” you questioned, making him come to a halt. You pumped his cock, not wanting him to lose any sensation as you used your other hand to pull down your top, now completely exposing yourself to him. His head snapped and his eyes looked like they were almost about to cry at the sight. His hands went for the automatic grab, palms grazing the hardness of your nipples as he pushed them together himself, cock running back and forth the cleavage.

“Hmm, your hands,” you moaned, chair beginning to creak at how hard he was pumping his cock, “feel really good.”

“Shit,” he hissed, “I’m gonna cum if I don’t stop.”

But there was a cognitive dissonance with his words and his actions, because he didn’t stop. The position was somewhat awkward,but you didn't care, completely infatuated and aroused by how fixated Jisung was on your tits, and using your body to get himself off.

“You okay baby,” Jisung groaned, “am I hurting you?”

“No baby,” you cooed, a soft moan and the flicking of your left nipple, “feels really good.”

“I want you to feel really good though baby,” he leaned down, pressing another sensuous kiss to your lips, “want to make sure you know you’re all mine.”

Mine, the word made your heart flutter.

“Well,” you hummed, keeping a hand on the base of his cock as you stood up and out of your chair, “you have your fantasies, I have my own.”

Jisung was taken aback by your statement. He thought he was the only one that was dirty minded, clouded by lustful and devil crazed things he wanted to do to you.

“You do?”

“Of course,” you huffed, letting go of him and pushing by the chest back into your seat. He couldn’t help himself, gently gratifying himself with his hands as he observed you taking off your shorts, now damp panties following, leaving you completely nude. Jisung took his bottom lip between his teeth, noticing how sticky the insides of your thighs were.

“When I was showering, last night, you know when you were watching me?”

You smirked, so easily resulting in him being embarrassed once again.

“Ha ha,” he mocked, still stroking himself. He was shameless at this point.

“I was thinking about you, you know.”

“You were?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, taking a straddle seat on his lap, “exactly like you are now.”

His length pressing against the outside of your folds a small moan leaked. This stickiness that was your arousal coating his shaft as you tenderly initiated the grind, pussy folds opening up and messing up his cock. The anticipation was killing you, as it was him, however, at the same time, it felt too good to stop, and you knew it wasn’t enough to make either of you cum in the moment.

“Yeah baby,” you whispered, a euphonious sound escaping your lips in between your words, “you’re not the only one that has a perverted mind.”

And when Jisung smiled at your words, you knew that he was your person. He was you in the male form. It was disgustingly sexy how much of him being a sexual pervert for you turned you on, and you should feel ashamed, guilty for it. But the equally morally corrupt part of you loved it, thrived on it. You were so fucking dirty, and so was he, and it was something that you really fucking loved about him.

“Fuck, you’re so mine,” he chuckled, a deep growl to his voice as his hands stayed on your tits in any way shape and form. He went back to kneading, then using his mouth to suck on them, hard, pinching, flicking with his fingers. He was obsessed, and now he was worried that he needed to be touching them all the time; he was selfish and couldn’t help it. The use of mine, again, made your hips jump, the tip of his cock nudging at your clit, which singalled the moment that the tease, prolonged fest was over.

“Can I sit on your cock?”

He didn’t even take the time to reply, taking his hands off your tits for a split second, a hand guiding you to the tip of his cock, the other wanting a simple taste of you, dipping his index and middle finger taking an intense swipe from your hole, through your folds, and up to his tongue. Your breath became heavy at the extremely attractive behavior jisung was displaying. It helped speed up the process, hand on his base and you leisurely slid down his length, allowing yourself time to adjust to his girth. A simultaneous sigh of relief escaped both of your chests as he filled you up all the way, bottoming you out, before you rose again, yourself completely in charge of the pace. The start was slow, giving you the perfect amount of time in between thrusts to feel him buried deep inside your pussy.

“God you’re so wet,” Jisung scoffed, the sounds of squelching and skin slapping filling the room, “so tight too.”

Your hands were now wrapped around his neck once again, his hands on your tits as he did not massage them, letting them spring free and very, very thoroughly enjoying the bounce they showed as you rode him.

“Hmmmm,” you whined, unable to form a coherent sentence, “so good.”

“You like my cock baby?”

“Yes.” The mumble was low enough, but Jisung wanted to hear you. Wanted to hear how well his cock was making your crumble. How well he was filling your lustful desires. He needed the validation of knowing that he was doing a good job. It’s something he looked for when he did his job patrolling the beach. Even though he was just as experienced as you were. He valued you and your opinion that much, so this was very important to you.

“You’re doing such a good job riding me cock like that baby,” he chuckled, hand snaking up your back and around your neck as he brought you close for another deep, longing kiss. God, he just couldn’t get enough of you, and the feeling was mutual.

“I fucking love you cock Jisung,” you grunted, pulling away from his swollen lips, beginning to find it difficult to keep a consistent rhythm. He moaned at the way you said his name, beads of sweat forming on his forehead the longer the two of you sat there, inside of each other. Your head was on the verge of rolling back, the slight assistance of Jisung spanking your tit and completing the full action of your neck practically snapping back. Eyes screwed shut, solely concentrating on the small moans and string of cuss words escaping his lips as you brought your pace to a very slow rate, hips now in more of a rolling motion rather than straight up and down.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he spat, juices covering your tits now, the sight ver visually pleasing to him, “I die when you say my name like that.”

“Jisung,” you whined, “Jisung, baby, I want you.”

“You want me to fuck you princess?”

“Yes,” you huffed, almost out of breath.

“Tell me baby,” he cooed, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, “say it.”

“Fuck, please,” you begged, legs emerging into shaking as you became desperate for him, “please fuck me.”

“Hmm, okay, such a good girl for asking.”

Jisung’s hands reluctantly withdrew from your chest one last time, the pressure mounding on your hips as you forced you to a halt. Palms now moving to your hands, he stood up, legs wrapping around him without a thought to remain close to him. Another make out session has begun, and jisung had the smooth effort of walking you around, pinning you up against the wall. He kept you there, legs still wrapped around his torso as he began to move, however, an unforgiving pace was being set. It forces you to pull away, a face of shock yet desperation plastered across your facial features. This was impossible to last to, but maybe that was the point. Jisung was definitely sick of your antics at this point. Your chest eye level with his face as he leaned forward, moaning at the way your tits fell on his face with each thrust.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned, “I can’t handle it anymore.”

“Fuck I’m, I-” your voice cm out weak, slightly cracking at the last word, “I can’t hold it much longer.”

“That’s okay baby,” he puffed, practically out of breath at how hard he was working to please you, “just tell me when you’re cumming okay?”

You nodded, pussy beginning to unconsciously clench around his length. A high pitched moan escaped your lips as you felt the pit of your stomach reaching what you knew to be your peak. Jisung’s was becoming sloppy himself, not sure how much he can last, but the last place he wanted to finish, respectfully, was in you.

“Jisung please,” you cried, “I can't last any longer.”

“It’s okay baby,” he whispered, slowing his pace down to satisfy you, “cum for me.”

On cue, your body reacted in the exact way he wanted you to do, mouth wide open and eyes screwed shut as you came what felt like over and over. Jisung took you off the wall, soothingly hushing you and placing you on your desk, legs hanging on his shoulders as he allowed you to ride out your high. He, however, was on the verge too, and he was dying to ask you one thing.

“Y/n, baby, I need to bust,” he whines, making you giggle, “fuck.”

“You want to cum on my tits?”

He nodded vigorously, taking no time to pull out of you and pump himself with so much purpose. The loss of contact made you whimper, but you were easily distracted by the moans and groans that escaped his lips as the copious amount of white ropes were released, coating your, in his opinion, precious tits to a pulp. His waist shuddered, but nonetheless, Jisung was back to his gentleman self, carrying to your seat and getting the lucky tissue box on your desk, Jisung wiping the remnants of himself off your chest. You giggled at the motion, somewhat embarrassed at what had just occurred in the ‘professionalism’ of your work office. Jisung clothed himself first then grabbed your discarded items and helped you dress yourself. You had to stand, holding his hand as you stepped into your shorts and panties.

Once the both of you were fully clothed, you pressed one more kiss to his lips, unable to rid yourself of the grin the was woven into your face. He followed, finally happy that he was able to get the girls of his dreams. Holding your hand, the two of you lingered, all of a sudden unable to look at each other.

“There’s something else that I lied about by the way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. That wasn’t my friend. It was me.”

#jisung #jisung smut #jisung imagine #jisung scenario #han jisung #han jisung smut #han jisung fic #jisung fic #han jisung scenario #han jisung imagine #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids fic #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #jisung x reader #ch4nb4ng

644 notes · View notes

vyeoh · 10 months

Note

i dont understand watchers lmao

like i kind of get the gist

but i did not watch evo

and do not have time to (sadly)

so...help???

Luckily for you, the watchers at this point are pretty removed from the Evo ones! There are some pretentious purists out there, as with anything, that like to bitch about people not following the original script (god knows I'm guilty of this with other stuff lol) and I've noticed bitching about this specifically becoming more popular, but I'm assuming you're coming to me about the lifer series watchers and not Evo watchers. That being said, here's Vio's Watcher guide of questionable accuracy:

The Life Series watchers are only really "canon" in Martyn's lore, with them being referenced but not explicitly canonized in the Secret Life state (the symbol on the mask is their symbol from Evo but no one else really has lore, period, so I hesitate to count this as more than an easter egg for anyone else but Martyn). From what I can tell, the Watchers retained a few things from their Evo lore:

1) The ability to move players to new worlds- In Evo, the Watchers were the ones who moved people to more updated versions of the game (the series concept was playing survival but gradually updating the game version as they went). This ability lends to the life series Watchers being the "gamemakers" and being able to put players in a new game ever season

2) Grian - at the end of his Evo series (tho notably not the Evo series in general), he was taken after jumping into the end portal by the Watchers. Based on the end credit poem being replaced with a dialouge between two of them, and a third one joining in at the end, the assumption is that Grian became a Watcher. As Grian is also the server owner for the Life Series, him being a Watcher plays well into the Watchers being the game runners. I'm not sure how canon this is in Martyn's lore or if it's still an unknown, but it is a prevailing theory that Grian's involvement isn't part of the other Watcher's plans and is to try and fuck up their shit on the inside and essentially do damage control for his friends. This is based off of the quote "He was never meant to interfere, he was onlt ever meant to watch" from Martyn's videos. However, c!Martyn, who is the perspective we see, is not omniscient and therefore there's a lot we just don't know.

3) Listeners/ why the Watchers seem to hate Martyn and also Jimmy: from what I understand from the little Evo lore I remember (this was years ago lmao), the Listeners appeared later as an antagonistic force to the Watchers, and got Martyn and Jimmy on their side. They were presented as a route to freedom vs the Watchers, but once again unreliable narration needs to be kept in mind. This is likely why the Watxhers keep fucking w Martyn specifically (and might provide an in canon reason for why Jimmy keeping dying first as well lmao) but it hasn't really be touched on beyond 1) Martyn is canonically a Listener and 2) the Watchers know he's a Listener

4) So.... what are the Watchers? - this one is, canonically, unknown and therefore the source of the aforementioned pretentious bitching. You need to keep in mind that mcyt roleplay is not structured and Evo especially didn't start out expecting deep worldbuilng. This, plus the fact that the Watchers are higher powers that different people have different opinions on, means there's going to be a lot of info that just doesn't line up, from both a meta and in canon perspective.

One theory is that they're a representation of viewers. This is at least somewhat true, imo, based on how Grian "becomes a viewer" after ending his series. This is not canon, but personally I do like this theory lol. This also carries into Secret Life, where viewers can submit tasks via the statue. However, I don't think this is canonized ever and might just be more symbolic than literal. There's also a theory that Watchers vs Listeners are a dichotomy between the bad viewers who just "watch" and demand things without "listening" to the players, while Listeners are viewers what actually "listen" to what the players want to do. However, as with everything, this is speculation based off of a 3rd person limited perspective.

5) Are they evil?- once again, depends on who you ask and what version you're talking about. According to c!Martyn in both series, yes. According to c!Grian from Martyn's lore, probably? Or at least he doesn't like this particular plan of theirs. According to Evo fans who remember them as just "plot bunny for why the version of the world keeps changing", probably not. We really don't know a ton about them and so you are free to make them as evil as you want or as neutral as you want.

This is preally much all ik about the Watchers and how they relate to the Life Series. You will notice that most of it is theories or hinted at things. The beauty of mcrp as a genre is that it's very semi-formal, and so canon is a bit wiggley. So TLDR: do whatever the fuck you want lmao. You don't need mine or anyone else's approval. It's your right to do what you want with canon, just as it's your right to bitch about it on the internet. Just don't be a dick about it and everything will be fine 👍

#vio.ask #anon respectfully why did u come ask me #i dont care what people do w the Watchers i play w them as god figures in my paper doll world #life series #grian #inthelittlewood #secret life #also unless you are martyn inthelittlewood i will not see any 'corrections' [#on this post. no discourse allowed unless ypur word is actually canon #this is simply my interpretation and i do not want to deal w people arguing w me rn lol

89 notes · View notes

digital-domain · 11 months

Note

HI HI🫡🫡

thinkin about the absolute loml gojo who hates fancy settings but goes to one anyway because he knew reader would be there😭 like he sees them all dressed up which is a rarity and can't take his eyes (or hands wink wonk) off them. i can just see reader having to scold him for being so touchy but he can't help it, its not like he cares about the eyes that might be watching them anyway lmao. but no cus he'd probably be whispering absolute FILTH into their ear😭

this is just a basic idea, add as much spice or anything else you want🤭🤭 ALSO I LOVE YOUR WRITING<3

Ahhhh thank you so much!! <3

I LOVED this prompt so much that it ended up wayy longer than I anticipated. Around 2k words I think?? I hope you enjoy :)

Content tags: hmm I’d say suggestive but not nsfw? But Gojo is being a menace. In the best way possible.

An art gallery. Who the fuck wants to spend a Friday night at an art gallery? You, apparently. Enough to turn down Gojo’s generous invitation to a much less pretentious, much less obnoxiously-well-lit bar in the center of the downtown entertainment district. It would have been fun, pulling you out onto the floor, convincing you to dance for what he can only assume would be the first time in your life. If you’d ever experienced it, you would have gone with him. Instead, he’s here, surrounded by sculptures which seem to depict nothing in particular, searching for you in the crowd. He can’t really be mad at you for turning him down tonight. Apparently, you’ve had these plans for months - you’re friends with the artist-of-honor, or whatever you call it. He wasn’t really paying attention to the specifics. And he’s not paying attention to the art, either. The promise of free wine intrigued him, though - if only he could find a server.

There’s a dress code, too. Suits only for men (or tuxes, but he doesn’t own one of those). The one he’s got on is light blue, standing out among a sea of navy and black and grey. He absently wonders what you would have worn if you’d gone clubbing with him instead - he’s imagining a short, black dress, or maybe a sparkly one, or jeans with one of those tops that seem to just be bras in disguise. He’s never seen you show off that much, but it’s fun to picture. Maybe there’s something to that idea of “leaving things to the imagination.” When it comes to you, he has a vivid one. A sly grin creeps over his face as he thinks of what might have happened tonight - flashing lights, dark corners, a dense crowd pressing the two of you together. Inevitably. Finally. In the most technical sense, you’re still just a “friend from work,” but you both know it’s more than that. He’s not exactly the subtle type. He’s been flirting hard for weeks - and you’ve flirted back. Even almost kissed him once or twice. You’re just a little bit shyer about things than he is. A little bit scared. It’s always “Someone could see us!” Or even worse: “We can’t. It’ll make things too complicated.” Always with a strange mixture of fear and excitement in your voice. You’re at least as interested as you are intimidated – it’s not an uncommon reaction. And he hasn’t pushed you too hard. He’s been holding back. But then again…so have you. And tonight could have been just the opportunity you both needed. In fact - it still could…

His moment of self-indulgence is broken when he checks his phone. He’d texted you a full five minutes ago ( “surprise! I’m here. Come find me ;)” ) and you still haven’t responded. Perhaps you’re simply enraptured by the weird little metal ornaments around you. Or maybe - no. There’s no way you’re purposely ignoring him. He put on a suit for you. And a matching tie. And flirted with the girl at the front table so he could get in without an invitation…

Hm. Maybe you’d seen that. It wasn’t his best performance - but he was here! The methods, in this case, totally justified the means.

He scans the room for you again. You shouldn’t be hard to find - he towers over the people around him. Over in the corner, maybe? Pressed up against a wall…

Oh. There you are.

He almost didn’t recognize you at first - he hadn’t expected that little black dress he’d been imagining to become a reality. Especially not here, where most of the women he’d seen were wearing long dresses or jumpsuits or blazer sets. It’s form-fitting, short, and two little shoulder straps are all that’s keeping it on. You stand out - and just like that, the little bit of self-control he had left is gone. You need encouragement? He’s going to give it to you. He zips across the room, almost knocking over that server he’d been searching for moments earlier, then doubling back to pick up two plastic glasses of red wine. He sidles up behind you, wrapping his arm all the way around your bare shoulder, and proudly holds one of them up to your face.

****

Oh no.

You decided weeks ago that you weren’t going to do this. Not with him. As soon as his hand first not-so-accidentally brushed up against yours, as soon as he made his intentions clear – you’d made up your mind. Getting…involved…with Gojo Satoru would be a huge risk. He’s simply too strong. Too complicated. Too much. In terms of power, personality - everything. Everyone wants a piece of him, everyone’s watching him, and you don’t want those same pairs of eyes falling upon you. You can flirt back – sometimes, it’s impossible not to – but that’s it. It’s just simple fun. A diversion. It’s going to create issues if it becomes anything more.

However. You’ve been playing these little games for weeks, and you just find yourself getting closer and closer. And now, he’s here.

You whip around at the sudden appearance of Gojo’s hand, nearly knocking the contents of the glass in front of you to the floor. You’re aware that you’re staring. But you can’t exactly look away. He’s here, standing before you, for absolutely good reason. Although…no. You’re sure that in his mind, it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do. But only because he’s a little bit insane.

He grins shamelessly, and casually sets the wine on a nearby display shelf, dinging the rims of the two cups against the sheer pane of glass. “Haven’t you been checking your phone?”

“No.” You shake your head, eyes wide in disbelief. “How did you even…never mind. I don’t wanna know.” His smile only grows as you narrow your eyes at him. “Why are you here?”

“I’ve developed a sudden appreciation for modern art.” He bites his lip, looks you up and down, bright blue eyes flashing over you. “Especially the kind that wears dresses like that one.”

“Satoru…” you sigh. Although you’re not unaffected by the compliment, you know you have to resist a little bit - he’ll pounce if you give him an opening. But he’s so over-the-top that it’s hard not to be impressed at his efforts. And, you have to admit - he looks incredible in formalwear. “You are…a complete menace.”

“Impossible.” He gestures down at himself. “Look at me. I’m very classy.”

You roll your eyes. “Only on the outside.”

“I wanna go outside.” He dramatically loosens his tie. “It’s hot in here.”

He’s ridiculous. The farthest thing from classy - or subtle. “No. It’s really not.”

“Well, of course you’re cold. You’re barely wearing anyth-“

“Satoru!”

He shrugs. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Maybe not.” There’s a pause.

Within that pause, you struggle to force your brain back to rationality. And you fail terribly.

He points to your shoulder. “You know that strap is slipping?” You look down, and in the split second that your eyes leave his face, he darts forward to “fix it” - you’ll never really know whether it actually needed fixing. You take a step backwards, shaken out of your thoughts, caught off guard by the sudden movement. In your surprise, you nearly trip - and he catches you by the waist. The most humiliating thing is how he has to lean down to murmur in your ear, smirking all the while.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize I was gonna sweep you off your feet.” He loosens his grip - giving you an out, perhaps - but you don’t pull away. He’s never touched you like this before, never been quite so blatant, and despite the setting, you can’t help but enjoy the attention. Even as you’re embarrassed by it. Maybe that’s the real humiliation - the fact that you can’t get yourself to resist him, as much as you might want to. As much as you really should.

He’s encouraged by your reaction, and presses on: “I’m just lookin’ out for you. Did you even read the dress code?”

“It’s a dress,” you protest, already feeling the warmth spreading over your face. He’s so infuriating. And obnoxiously pretty. His eyes are even more beautiful when brought out by the blue of his suit, his body even more distracting when it’s inches away from you. He even smells good. It’s beyond irritating. “Dresses are formal. Therefore - I’m dressed formally. It’s not like I had a ton of options in my closet. I wasn’t gonna go out and buy something new -“

“Sure.” You know you sound flustered, and he clearly thinks it’s adorable. It always seems to happen so easily. And he wants more of it. He tightens his hold on your waist and drags his hand up the outside of your thigh, all the way up to the bottom of your dress, eyes flashing mischievously as you squirm at his touch. “Didn’t realize formal could be so sexy.”

You can’t respond to that - it’s far, far too dangerous. Instead, you glance around the room, suddenly very aware of the people around you - a lot of them are doing more than glancing as they pass by. “You’re making people stare.”

“Me? Pretty sure it’s you doing that.” One finger slips under the hemline of your skirt, his nail scratching slightly against your skin. He presses his lips to your ear, his voice barely a whisper. “You wearin’ anything under here?”

Your face is burning now, and you’re sure he can tell. “Yes.”

“Yeah? Cuz I don’t feel anything.”

“No shorts…just…” You realize what you’re telling him, and force yourself to shut up. “Fuck you.”

“If you insist.”

“Clever.” You’re torn. Half of you wants to slap him. The other half…well. You’ve been holding back the other half for a very long time. And you’re getting tired of it.

“Aren’t I?” There’s that grin again - the one that’s been flashing through your mind more than you’d like to admit in the past few weeks. “You should’ve come out with me tonight. This behavior would draw a lot less attention where I wanted to go.”

“If you’re concerned about that, you could just…” You squirm. “Y’know. Let go of me.”

“But do you really want me to?”

This is your last chance. You could say yes. Probably should. But it would be a complete and utter lie. And those eyes…they make all of your worries so easy to forget.

“Mhmm. That’s what I thought.” His hand brushes over your jaw, tilting your face, insisting that you meet his gaze. “I’m not concerned. About them, or about…anything else.” In that moment, you feel like his eyes are piercing you. He understands perfectly. He’s read your mind. “You’re gonna be just fine. And if you’re still not sure of that…that just means I need to try harder to convince you.”

You look up at him, anticipating his next move even as you ask: “What does that mean?”

“Well…”

He leans in.

Oh god.

He leans in and kisses you.

And your mind goes blank.

You kiss him back, and pay no mind as his hand slides under the skirt of your dress.

Okay. Maybe not no mind. But you certainly don’t mind. Not even a little.

Your eyes flutter closed, blocking out your surroundings. People are definitely staring, but in the moment, you suddenly can’t bring yourself to care. You’ll worry about everything else in the morning. For now…

He pulls back, hands still locked around your waist, your upper thigh, a palpably hungry look in his eyes. “You still mad at me for showin’ up?”

One more chance to walk away – but he knows you won’t. Your answer is obvious, but you spell it out anyways. He wants to hear you say it. “No. I’m glad you did.”

“Mhm. And…” He nips at your ear, his fingernails digging into your leg, the smirk broadening on his face. ‘’You wanna come with me when I leave?”

You quickly nod, breathless. “Yes.”

“Good. Because I wasn’t planning on sticking around here for long.” He sighs dramatically, breathing deeply into your hair. “And I would hate to leave you all alone.”

Again – ridiculous. Infuriating. And…impossible to turn down. It’s all you can do to stay upright, and follow him to the door, his hand laced tightly between your fingers, arm still wrapped around your waist. You forget about your coat, too – it’s still in the backroom somewhere. Maybe you’ll make him go get it for you in the morning. But you don’t want to think about the morning just yet.

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo

81 notes · View notes