#to all my lovely japanese people out there stumbling over this!

[lovieku]

OBVIOUS ⋆ 정국

you lose your virginity to jeongguk, the only boy you’d ever trust with such weight. and what you both feel for each other couldn’t be more obvious.

୨ৎ from the grande series

pairings: bookstore employee!jk x virgin!fem reader

genre: smut, strangers to friends to lovers

ratings: +18 / mdi

warnings: based on this ask, lower case intended, porn with some plot, mutual pining, age gap (21 n 25), first time, dry humping, tit play (small boobs lover jk!!!), oral (f receiving), fingering, hand job, size kink, protected sex, missionary, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, sooo much praise, and pet names, jeongguk is so so loving and caring, sm fluff hehe, bit of angst maybe? but lovey dovey confession <33

word count: 12.9k

a/n: aaaa this is so silly and rushed but theyre so cute and i had to do something about it. ps: this is my first time writing smut, hope it’s not embarassing Help ..any feedback is appreciated 👩🏻‍💻

────୨ৎ────

you met jeon jeongguk at your favorite bookstore. the one tucked away in the quieter part of town, hidden in the shadow, squeezed between a small café and a vintage shop with an unassuming facade. it’s not the kind of place that draws crowds, most people passed it without a second glance, without paying it the attention it deserved.

but you always did, too attentive for your own liking, too curious for your own sake. you had always been the type to notice the quiet places where stories seem to breathe.

there was nothing not to love about the store. it felt like a refuge in tones of deep brown wood and soft amber light. it wasn’t flashy, but that’s why you loved it. stepping inside always brought a sense of calm, brought you closer to feel the whisper of worn leather bindings, the smell of old pages. it was being understood, accepted, seen.

meeting jeongguk wasn’t fate. it wasn’t some serendipitous moment ripped from a movie script. you didn’t bump into him while too immersed in your favorite novel. you didn’t reach simultaneously for the same book and argued over it, only to end up in the café next door.

jeon jeongguk was simply working there. he was an employee at the bookshop, stocking shelves, checking inventory. he just so happened to be charming, and the only one who came up to you after you’d been standing in front of a high shelf for what felt like an eternity.

“looking for anything in particular?”

when you turned to follow the source of the honey voice, not too low but still smooth, you had to fight hard to keep the gasp that was threatening to escape locked in your throat. he was tall. way taller than you. his dark hair fell in soft curls, brushing the nape of his neck, framing his face with carefully crafted, but effortlessly beautiful curtains. and when you managed to escape his wide eyes, seemingly storing all the warmth the shop could offer, you found it even harder to contain the surprise as you spotted a trail of intricate ink designs starting from his hand and running up his muscled arm, only to disappear beneath the short sleeve of his black polo.

he was still staring, expectantly. and you just kept standing there, mute. observing like a maniac. you stumbled over your words, trying to steady your voice, “oh— um. i was looking for the japanese author, kawamura?”

the way his eyes lit up at your request was unmistakable. and after that, the same spark would flicker in his gaze every time you stepped foot in the shop.

you later found out that he was new, which explained why you hadn’t noticed him before, all the times you’d gone and searched for books. which weren’t a lot, but enough for the other staff to know your face through the years. and now, certainly enough for jeongguk to become acquainted with your presence.

you started finding excuses to go more often, week after week, convincing yourself that you needed new books to accompany your tea as the colder months approached. truth be told, it wasn’t just the books pulling you in. your friends kept teasing you about the real reason why you’d always hurry there after your lectures ended, and deep down you knew you just had to accept it. you were developing a silly, little crush.

jeongguk didn’t seem to mind the growing frequency of your visits. if you had to guess, you’d say he was just as eager to see you. or maybe he was just exceptionally good at his job. if that were the case, you hoped he was crowned employee of the month every single time.

there was always a line he never crossed. his professionalism remained intact. he greeted you like any other customer, offering his help when you needed it. and you always seemed to need it, didn’t you? yet, there was something in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled, the way his lips curved in that subtle, almost hidden way when you left with a new book in hand. you’d walk out of the store, clutching your latest literary find, grinning like a fool, and jeongguk would watch, his own smile lingering long after you were gone.

deep down, you knew this couldn’t last forever. you were just a student, miserably scraping by in the tiniest flat imaginable, your waitressing part-time job barely paying enough to make it through the month. but you’d feel bad, wasting hours of jeongguk’s shift, monopolizing his time with your indecision over paperbacks, keeping him off his tasks, just for it to be a waste. you needed to show him your gratitude, in a way. contribute to the income of the bookshop. so, you kept buying books. you weren’t sure you even had more space to fit them in your own shelf.

yet no matter how much you tried to convince yourself to stay away, you couldn’t help it. books were your escape, your joy, and the fact that they were sold to you by jeongguk was just an added bonus. the problem wasn’t him— it was your wallet. your poor, overworked wallet that kept reminding you of the price of each novel and how your little crush was becoming financially unsustainable.

it was one of those afternoons after your morning lectures, where the crisp autumn air made you even more eager to slip into the bookstore, feeling that familiar rush of warmth as jeongguk greeted you with his usual smile. this time, he surprised you with a book he had found just for you, claiming “you’d enjoy it. feels light and genuine, just like you.”

when it came time to pay, cheeks still flushed after the sickly, sweet grin he flashed your way, you sighed as you rummaged through your bag for your card.

he scanned it, only to glance up at you with a hesitant expression, “huh… it declined.”

“what?” you laughed, though it was shaky, disbelief lacing your words, “no, that can’t be right. try again.”

he did, but the outcome remained unchanged. he met your eyes with a worried frown, and you felt your face flame in embarrassment, not the one that made your insides swarm with butterflies minutes before this.

you groaned, pressing your palm to your forehead in mortification, “fuck, this is so humiliating.”

jeongguk chuckled softly, his voice soothing, “hey, it’s really not. it’s okay. i’ll pay for it.”

your jaw dropped, and you looked at him like he had lost his mind, “no, what? are you crazy? don’t— don’t do that. you don’t need to. i’ll just come back another day.”

what followed was a ridiculous, playful back-and-forth. you refused, he insisted, and soon enough, the two of you were locked in a silly tug-of-war over the book itself, laughing despite the situation. he finally threw his hands up in surrender, his smile impossibly wide, the kind of grin that made your heart skip a beat.

“alright, alright,” he relented, shaking his head, “but i’m still not happy about this. if i can’t pay for your book, at least let me buy you a coffee. i’m clocking off in 15. will you wait for me?”

you couldn’t contain your eyes from widening, your smile to dumbly paint your features as you eagerly nodded. you didn’t trust yourself to speak, afraid that if you did, some ridiculous teenage squeal would escape. he was grinning just as hard, though.

and so, you began seeing jeongguk outside the confined space of the bookstore, in a world beyond the shelves and spines of novels. his attire was always simple, dark tones that exuded comfort and warmth. his sweaters seemed soft enough to curl into, and his presence felt just as inviting.

but you pushed those thoughts away, trying to remind yourself that he was becoming a friend. one of your closest, even. you tried. you did! but you just couldn’t help the way your mind wandered, imagining what it would be like to lean just a little closer, to feel the warmth of his embrace. god, get a grip.

still, it was impossible to ignore the flutter in your chest each time his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary. outside the bookstore, jeongguk was different. not in a bad way. he was just more relaxed, more himself. his touch came naturally, a hand at the small of your back guiding you through a crowded street, his arm slung casually over your shoulders like it belonged there. he was playful in a way that hinted at something deeper, his jokes sometimes drifting into uncharted territory, leaving your stomach in knots, your thoughts spiraling down paths you hadn’t dared explore.

and then there was the way he looked after you. he was older, just by a few years, 25 to your 21, but it felt like a gulf of experience separated the two of you. he’d seen more, lived more. experienced more. knew more. about all that stuff you’d been scared to explore, the stuff that happened in the intimacy of one’s bedroom. you knew he had his fair share of girlfriends, he told you about it. just how you’d told him you never got close to a relationship. you just flirted around with a boy in high school, messily making out in the corners where no one could see you. but it never went over that.

jeongguk’s protectiveness over you came naturally. you didn’t mind. it was reassuring, the way his hand tightened around your wrist in a crowded space or how his gaze followed you across a room, always making sure you were safe.

you found yourself spending more and more time together. walking through the city, staying up late at cafés, or just wandering aimlessly in his car, talking about everything. you told him about your classes, the stress of exams, your dreams of becoming a teacher, and the uncertainties that weighed you down. he listened, really listened, in a way that made you feel seen, like every word you said mattered.

jeongguk shared his own story too. he’d dropped out of college a year ago, deciding that the path everyone else had planned for him wasn’t for him at all. now, he was drifting, trying to figure out where he belonged. he took inspiration in the way your eyes sparkled at the prospect of your future. little did he know, your eyes just reflected the galaxies in his that you loved getting lost into.

it terrified you. because with each passing day, your feelings for him grew stronger, more undeniable. it wasn’t just a crush anymore. it was something that had its own weight, pulling you closer to him. the lines were blurring, but you let them.

one night, after a long week of classes and stress, you went out with a few friends. jeongguk hadn’t been able to join, caught up with work, but when your tipsy self had dialed his number later that night, he picked up right away. your voice was soft, your words slurred. they echoed through the bar’s bathroom, followed by your uncontainable giggles as jeongguk playfully scolded you on the other line. the same softness was painting his face, and he only hung up when he started his car, showing up within minutes.

by the time he arrived, you were well past tipsy and leaning dangerously toward drunk. you didn’t notice him sheepishly greeting your group of friends, their eyes lighting up with interest at the image of the renowned jeon jeongguk, until his low voice called your name, slipping his arm around your waist and helping you up from the bar stool, “come on, let’s get you home. say bye-bye.”

you glared at him, face slightly reddening at his tease. he just loved treating you like a little kid. loved poking fun at you. still, you leaned into him, the scent of his body wash wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, banter ready on your tongue, “i’m fine, grandpa,” you slurred amusedly, but your legs wobbled as you tried to walk.

he chuckled under his breath, guiding you out of the bar, “yeah, sure you are. you’re barely standing.”

the night air was cold against your skin, but jeongguk was warm, his body solid and steady as you clung to him.

you didn’t mean to say it, didn’t mean to let the words slip, but in your hazy, alcohol-fueled state, you genuinely wondered, “why are you so good to me?”

he paused for a moment, glancing down at you with a small smile, “because you deserve it.”

the car ride was silent, in a comfortable way. you got lost in the way the city flashed past you, and jeongguk stole sneaky glances at you from the corner of his eye, his hand gripping the steering wheel a little tighter each time he let his eyes linger.

when he reached your place, he helped you inside, gently guiding you to the couch. you were too dazed to fight him when he insisted on getting you some water and a blanket. he moved around your cramped flat with ease, having memorized where every single thing belonged after his countless stays at your place, watching movie after movie or simply keeping you company while you revised.

he sat beside you for a while as you rambled on about your night, how the music was slightly disappointing even with the drinks being overpriced.

jeongguk listened attentively, even with your words stumbling out in messy fragments, jumping from one topic to another. his eyes traced the way your hands moved in wild gestures, the way your lips fumbled for the right words, the glaze in your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the room. he didn’t realize it at first, but his body instinctively followed your movements, leaning closer with every excited wave of your arms, his knees brushing against yours, his head nodding in time with your words.

only when you stopped talking, turning to face him and catching his gaze in the dim light, he was made aware of the little distance between you. it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to be this close. always sneakily seeking for one another in booth seats of the pubs you’d visit every so often, his hand lingering on your knee for longer than needed when calling for your attention, your arms locking together when walking through the city.

but this moment was different. it was heavy with something unspoken. and so tender, fragile.

your cheek rested on the back of the couch, your body slouched, your eyes half-lidded. he sat straight, his torso turned towards you, his head bending down to study your face better.

you didn’t think when you blurted his name out, your gaze falling on his lips, “jeongguk.”

he hummed softly.

“i want you to kiss me.”

the words tumbled out before you could stop them, but you didn’t take them back. you couldn’t.

jeongguk didn’t seem startled by your unfiltered words. he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back. he only tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lip inching up sweetly, “you want me to kiss you?”

you hummed, with the same softness, only tinted with uncertainty. fear of rejection. you were suddenly aware of what you asked him now that he repeated it back to you. and you realized how much you meant it, just now.

but his tone wasn’t condemning. it was seeking for confirmation that he heard right, that it wasn’t just your drunk thoughts talking. still, he didn’t lean closer, nor let his eyes fall to the lower part of your face.

he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “i’ll kiss you. just not now.”

”what? why not?”

your eyebrows were cutely furrowed, the blush the alcohol painted you with only making the pout on your lips even more irresistible.

jeongguk hissed amusedly, ”because you’re drunk. and when i’ll kiss you, i want you to be sure about it. want you to remember it.”

”but i am sure about it. i want you.”

once again, your blunt confession didn’t seem to faze him. he smiled, kept his tone low, ”i know. i want you too.”

your breath hitched at the unexpected sincerity of his words, your eyes roaming all over his face. you subtly shifted closer, your lips parted slightly with desire. the flame that lit up your body burned all the alcohol from your system, and suddenly you were more awake than ever. you were alert. your heart pounding, your core pulsing. he looked so inviting, so pretty in that light.

he wet his lips, darting his tongue out to play with his piercing. you could feel your head spin. you didn’t just want him. you needed him. and it wasn’t the alcohol. you were sure of it.

you could only dumbly lean closer and hope for the best, but he chuckled softly, his large hand framing the side of your face and forcing you to stop your path towards him, look at him, swim in the intensity of his gaze.

his tone was gentle, delicate, understanding, “if you don’t change your mind, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay? when you’re sober. hm?”

his eyes searched yours, waiting patiently for your response. you only managed a small nod, your eyes glossy with frustration and a bit of shame. you bit your lip, muttering a small okay and letting him fix your hair with the fondest look in his orbs.

he left your flat only after tucking you in your bed, because you begged him to, and after much more pleading, you even convinced him to stay beside you until you fell asleep. you didn’t feel him slip out of your hold on his hand, the weight of his body leaving your bed, and with it, the warmth of his presence going as well.

but the following day, after downing the glass of water you assumed he left by your nightstand, you bore through your headache and searched for his contact in your phone first thing as you woke up. you were instantly hit with flashes of the night before, and you remembered exactly what you told him, what he promised. that if you still wanted it, you would talk about it. and you just needed to hear his voice, as soon as possible.

you’re not sure what there was to talk about. you asked him for a kiss. his lips on yours. it’s not like there would be much space for talking.

with your phone to your ear, the ringback tone was the only sound filling the space between your thoughts. you felt a twinge of anxiety in your stomach. you should have probably called later, let yourself adjust to consciousness. maybe rationalize yesterday’s events and find a better way to move around them. give yourself more time to think it over. the wait stretched on, and it only gave your doubts more space to spiral, turn into little monsters whispering evil things in your ear.

he probably wanted to talk to you about it because he thought it was a stupid idea. he didn’t really want it, was just lying to get you to shut up. he thought you were foolish, childish, not his type at all. or maybe, he was seeing someone and didn’t know how to tell you. wow, that would be humbling. you wanted him so bad and he was just—

“hello?”

his voice sounded muffled through the line. you clumsily adjusted your device to your ear, sitting up, still in your bed, last night’s makeup smudged under your eyes, “jeongguk?”

”that would be me, ma’am.”

“hi,” your voice was low, thick with sleep and the remnants of your hangover, and it sounded weaker than you’d intended to reveal.

”hey. feeling better, miss?”

his playful tone was laced with affection, and it instantly put a smile on your face. you didn’t realize it, but your mind was clearing, your body unconsciously easing back into the covers, “i am.”

jeongguk hummed, and you heard the faint sound of movement on his end. he was probably getting ready for the bookstore, but still found time to pick up your call. it made you alert, awkwardly aware of what both of you were probably expecting out of this conversation.

you cleared your throat, smoothing some of the morning grogginess and sounding lighter, softer, “come over after your shift? i miss the office. and your ramyeon.”

when he chuckled in your ear and teased you for that one time you said his cooking was average, you felt your shoulders relax. even more when he agreed and shot you a quick see you later, followed by the exaggerated sound of smacking lips.

it was his signature goodbye, always ending your calls with that. it would usually make you roll your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. but this time, it made you blush like a pubescent teenager. get. a. grip.

jeongguk noticed the slight shift in your demeanor right away. he could taste the tension, smell it in the air, feel it in the way you’d become stiff, even when his fingers barely grazed your skin. it was a stark contrast to how things had been between you two.

you still moaned around the first bite of his ramyeon, still giggled with your mouth full as he mockingly mimicked your voice, playfully downgrading his cooking skills from months ago. but you blushed a little harder at the smirk that followed his usual tease. subtly ran away from his hand seeking your contact.

with time, both of you had grown comfortable with the casual touches, playful proximity— tickling at each other’s sides, poking jokingly, or simply brushing hands when no one was looking. it had become a natural part of your dynamic.

but after your earlier slurred confessions, he could tell that it was affecting you more deeply now, your body reacting differently to his touch. the way you startled at his closeness, the small breath catching in your throat. it all made his head spin, his fist tighten in restraint. you weren’t the only one affected.

on your couch, you found it hard to relax in his familiar embrace, an arm around your shoulders, your head resting on his chest. the steady rhythm of his breathing usually soothed you, but tonight, your heart was fighting its way up, dangerously close to spilling all over his neat clothes. you exhaled shakily, the office playing quietly on the tv doing a weak job at distracting you.

and jeongguk couldn’t take it anymore. lust wasn’t the only feeling simmering under the surface. he was scared. that he may have read it all wrong, that you only blurted it out because you were drunk and not in control of your thoughts. he was terrified of stepping the wrong way, doing something that would determinately scare you away, end whatever you two had for good. and he didn’t want to lose you. wanted to keep you. and that went over the need to taste your lips.

through the corner of your eye, you could feel him stare down at you intently. his other hand reached to move your hair out of the way, and you let him. you turned to meet his gaze, and relaxed slightly at the fond look on his features.

“what’s going on in that pretty, little head of yours? will you tell me?”

you blinked. gulped down loudly. the reassuring smile on his face grew bigger. you shifted slightly in his hold, moving your body to face him, and the arm that was around you naturally fell down your waist.

you tried to word it differently, tried to suppress it just a bit longer, find another way around it, but his blown out pupils lowered all your inhibitions, “do you— do you still want to kiss me?”

“i do. very badly.”

his response was immediate, and it came through a whisper. it caressed your face sweetly, and it made you aware of the natural gravity that pulled you even closer, to the point of your noses almost touching.

you were unable to move, to initiate anything, to be truthful to your desires. your orbs jumped on every corner of his face, widening. he let his palm close around your hip, then he spoke low, “will you let me do that?”

jeon jeongguk kissed you slowly. his lips lingered on yours, tasting, moving with intent. his hands framed your face, traveling down your neck and holding you gently by the nape.

it was sweet, and delicate. he took his time becoming acquainted with your pace, letting you control the movement of his doings. when he darted his tongue out to trace your lower lip, you granted him permission to explore the insides of your mouth.

with tongues intertwined, the kiss gradually became sloppier, more desperate. your fingers found home in his long curls, tugging at the base of it, and supporting yourself while arching your body into his, pressing yourself against his chest, seeking for confirmation that he wanted this just as badly as you did.

he welcomed your proximity by letting his palms fall to your waist, keeping you close, and tracing his touch dangerously close to the curve of your ass.

you whined lowly, but the sounds became ingloriously louder the more he pressed your body against his hard one, his touch wandering, squeezing, feeling.

you messily straddled his lap and sat with your knees on both sides of him, your desire deepening with your kiss, devouring his lips harder, twisting his hair in a confused tangle the more you got lost in them.

his hands went to hold your hips, and you soon felt a stronger weight on them, gently pulling you away and giving you a minute to catch your breath. though it was taken out of you the moment you took in the man in front of you, his lips swollen, his eyes half-lidded, his curls all over the place.

he let out an amused chuckle, combing through your own mess on your head, “hey, pretty. it’s okay. there’s no rush. we can take it slow, hm?”

in that small moment, you were made aware of your own eagerness slipping out of your control and rushing your actions, insatiable with wanting more, but not even being sure if jeongguk wanted that more just as much.

instead, you were sure your whole face was a crimson shade with the way the boy under you fondly grinned, his hand guiding you by the nape and letting your lips meet again in a small peck, before he focused on your face again.

jeongguk never left your eyes, and you were too hypnotized to even think of looking elsewhere. his gaze was steady, magnetic, thirsty to drink in your reaction as he guided your hips against him, letting them drag over his clothed bulge. you moaned, unshameful, your eyes rolling back.

”yeah? you like that?”

you could only nod dumbly, repeatedly, using your hands on his shoulders as support while you kept grinding on him. slowly at first, just how he had suggested. but the stimulation was too good, your clit deliciously meeting his hardness, spreading the embarrassing amount of wetness you had already collected all over your panties. you tentatively picked up your pace, his hands immediately stopping you.

”you need to be patient, doll.” his scold was only playful, the smirk spreading on his features letting you know he enjoyed the effect he had on you, the way he bit his lip communicating he was just as affected. but you liked the feeling of him guiding you through this.

you didn’t know what to do, weren’t sure how to please him, too shy under his adoring look. you sheepishly smiled, falling onto him and hiding yourself in the crook of his neck.

he laughed, his chest moving with it, and you could feel his heart pumping, his warmth meeting the side of your face. he took the hand on your waist and dragged it up your back, soothingly, “you’re doing so good, baby. okay?”

it was sweet, and the praise made you pulse around nothing. you nodded, your nose brushing against his neck as you timidly let your lips leave a trace of wet kisses along his adam’s apple, going up his jaw. he hummed, the sound reverberating in his throat and against your mouth.

you left small pecks on his cheek, to his nose, retreating after laying a quiet one on his mouth. you looked back at him, jumping between his eyes, confession tumbling out your tongue, “sorry. i just want you so bad.”

he chuckled, moving your bangs out of your face, “i want you just as much. but i don’t want this moment to be fast. want to make it special for you.”

his whispered words tugged at the strings of your poor heart. you felt it begging to be ripped out of your chest, banging on your rib cage, maybe trying to find another way up your throat. but its repeated, quick pumping also matched the need pooling down your lower belly, staining your panties.

you nodded, finding his lips again and deepening the kiss, adapting to a slower rhythm as your tongues fervently explored each other. he grabbed your sides and grinded you closer to him, moaning in your mouth as you matched his gentle guiding, meeting the involuntary buck of his hips.

the almost too tender drag of your clothed pussy against his clothed, hard cock soon became torturous for the both of you, reduced to panting, eager messes. you felt unashamedly close just from the repeated action, and if he hadn’t decided to lay you on your back just then, you were sure you would have cummed already.

he was gentle as he positioned you on the couch, your body sprawled while he was mindful not to put too much of his weight on you. when he left your lips, you instinctively whined. your head subtly lifted off the sofa to try and follow his mouth, bring it back on yours, but he only smirked and darted his tongue out to lick off your taste.

he didn’t give you time to protest, to miss his touch, to be left unattended. because he quickly moved to work on your neck, his tattooed hand tentatively seeking its way under your t-shirt.

you let him wander. let him leave wet traces from your jaw down your collarbones while his fingers left goosebumps along their path, and rose up to your chest. he hummed at the feeling of your bare breasts, smirking at the absence of a bra.

he felt the skin under it, only for his palm to cup your boob and knead at it. it was a perfect fit in his large hand, his thumb teasingly slicing over your nipple and making you mewl, arching your back and pushing your front into him.

he moved himself from your neck and hesitantly lifted up your shirt, searching your eyes for permission. you put your hands on his and led them to take it off you, discarding it on the ground.

he sat back on his heels, admiring your figure laying between his legs. in his eyes, you found something you were never met with until that moment.

he looked starved, his pupils blown and following every curve of your body, his hands hovering only to end up caressing your sides delicately.

you blushed, hard, using your hand to cover your face and throwing an arm over your chest. his palms squeezed your hips twice, his thumbs stroking the skin under your ribs, “don’t hide from me, pretty. let me see you.”

you shook your head stubbornly, a small whine escaping your throat. but he could tell you weren’t starting any fight, he could make out your smile, barely concealed under your fingers.

jeongguk moved your wrists and laid them on top of your head, his face nearing again to leave an adoring kiss on your lips. when he found your eyes again, the fondest smile was painting his features, “you’re beautiful.”

“my boobs are small,” your voice was muffled, shy, hidden behind your childish pout.

“i fucking love them,” with one hand still keeping your wrists together, he used the other one to play with your breasts once more, his gaze hypnotized by the way he could make them fit in his large palm, squeezing them together and kneading at the softness.

you moaned, loud and unashamed, when he guided his smooth lips to your nipple, his gaze never leaving yours while he attempted small, kitten licks at it.

when he saw how your eyes lustfully rolled back as his fingers went to play with your other boob, rolling it and letting his thumb slide over the sensitive center, he took it as his go-ahead to wholly engulf your wet nipple in his mouth and suck on it, lick around it, kiss it.

jeongguk was hastily making out with your tits, giving both of them the attention they needed, reducing your nipples to soaked, hard messes.

you felt your soul ascend high and leave your body when, as you unconsciously thrusted your hips up in desperate need of friction, you found that in his knee, the one that was positioned between your legs, the one you now grinded into with no control over your pace, bringing yourself closer to the edge.

“fuck, jeongguk,” you didn’t have time to feel ashamed over how delirious you sounded, or looked, the lewd noises of his sucking taking you even higher, his hands massaging your boobs with intent.

you only got louder the more you let your cunt rub against his leg, a motion you were unable to slow down, too eager to get to the finish line. and this time, jeongguk let you, even spurring you on, “let go, angel. cum on my thigh.”

it was all the encouragement you needed to fully loosen, his own whines resounding against your chest and blending with your high-pitched moans, eyes rolled back, head thrown to the side, fingers clutching around jeongguk’s locks and guiding him further into you as you lost control on his thigh, “gonna cum!”

your orgasm took over your whole body, shaking with overwhelment at the stimulation. all the sensations you were feeling were new to you, but nonetheless welcomed in the way your eyelids drooped with relaxed pleasure and you worked to catch your breath, your muscles untightening, your arms falling by your sides.

jeongguk left one last kiss around your nipple before lifting himself up to admire your fucked out state, your cheeks flushed and sweat adorning you with an angel-like glow, the lazy smile on your face as you stared at him making his heart skip a few beats.

he let his eyes wander, his own expression incredulous at what had just happened, “that was so fucking sexy, baby.”

the way you sheepishly chuckled was contagious, his giggles filling your ears as he lifted you up and pulled you against his chest, your still weak body falling onto him with ease. he smiled fondly, looking down at your face, “if you want to stop here, it’s totally okay. i won’t—“

“no!” your energy came back to you as quickly as it left your body minutes before, sitting up straight in his embrace with your eyes wide and worried. you fumbled with your words, “no— no. i want to keep going. please.”

the grin that took over his features adorably caused his nose to scrunch, and he had to put his lips on yours and let them blend together in a sickly sweet kiss to keep himself from saying the words that were so dangerously close from spilling, on the tip of his tongue. he hoped, as he slid it against yours, that you could still feel them, and accept them.

he retreated to cup your cheek in his palm, your eyebrows still unconsciously drawn up in agitation, but easing as he reassured you, “you don’t have to beg, angel. i’ll give you anything you ask for.”

”okay. couch is uncomfortable. take me to the bedroom,” your arms stretched out, teasingly expecting him to pick you up.

you squealed when he did, taking your legs, wrapping them around his tiny waist and getting up the sofa, leading both of you to your room. he didn’t have to watch where he was going, his feet automatically guiding him, having adjusted to your flat long ago. but even if that weren’t the case, he would still not look, too caught up in your glossy orbs.

he pinched your sides before laying you on the soft surface of your bed, legs still tight around him, “bossy much, hm?”

you shrugged, a naughty grin accompanying the playful glint in your eyes, “you’re following my orders flawlessly.”

he scoffed amusedly, kissing his teeth, “ah, is that right?”

you hummed, eager with taking the back and forth further, see where it takes you, “such a good boy.”

the giggle that tumbled out of you as he narrowed his eyes betrayed you, breaking into a full fit of laughter as he tickled your sides, your legs leaving his waist. he tauntingly bit your neck, not enough to hurt you, grinning mischievously, “i’m letting you get away with too much. need to teach you a lesson.”

the laugh died in your throat the second he lifted his shirt up, showing his body to you for the first time. michelangelo would have loved to sculpt him, that’s the first thought your slowed down brain could come up with as you let your eyes wander all over his upper body.

he was toned, his eight pack abs glowing effortlessly for your mouth to water, his nipples a brownish color and so inviting, making you lean on your forearms for a better view.

the arm that wrapped around one of your legs and pushed it on the side was the one inked with those intricate designs you spent boring, lazy afternoons analyzing, and now they were the reason why you could feel a familiar buzz down your core again, coating your panties with even more of your sticky juice.

“cat got your tongue?” there was no way you could even think of a witty come-back with the way he lowered his pretty face between your thighs, his cocky smirk never leaving his expression as his eyes fixated on your own, challenging you.

but you were long gone, willing to let him do whatever he wanted to your body. you stared intently as his fingers hooked under the hem of your shorts, pulling them down in a sensual motion, until they fell on the floor.

your head fell backwards as he let his nose trace your soaked slit, still hidden underneath the layer of cotton panties, “is this okay?”

he only needed your eager nod to leave a subtle kiss on your clit, then lap at your slick through the thin material, “taste so good, doll.”

jeongguk repeated the motion, licking at you through your undies and letting his big nose brush against your clit torturously, his saliva and your wetness causing the fabric to dig between your lips uncomfortably, showing yourself to him.

you unconsciously bucked your hips up, eagerly demanding to set you free, but he held you down by your waist, “patience, baby.”

you whined loudly, and you couldn’t believe how delirious you sounded already, only moments after your earlier climax. he seemed to enjoy your reactions, the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance and ripping a desperate moan out of you, trying to push yourself into him further but being held down by his strong palms.

you fell on your back, your hair sprawled over your pillows, suddenly too weak to fight against him. he chuckled darkly, speaking against your core, “you’re so cute. so eager for me, angel.”

when he lifted himself up, his mouth glistened with your juice, and you couldn’t help but blush at the image. you were so wet, the liquid stained him even through the layer of clothing still keeping you from fully feeling him.

the silent plead in your eyes was listened to. jeongguk slid off your panties in one swift motion, his eyes hungry at the sight revealed to him, “fuck. so perfect. the prettiest.”

he didn’t show mercy at your weakened state, returning his starved mouth on your cunt, slurping at your lips and sucking on your clit, the stimulation making you see stars under your eyelids.

your eyes snapped open the moment you felt something tentatively poking at your entrance, and as you lowered your head you saw his finger playing with your virgin hole, going up to collect your slick from your slit, then returning on where you were starting to need him.

but you were anxious. he immediately saw it in the way you got up on your forearms again, instinctively closing your legs around his hand. his eyes found yours, reassuringly, “baby. you alright?”

you nodded sheepishly, “yeah. i’m just— scared. don’t want it to hurt.”

the hand that was playing with you now laid on your lower stomach, rubbing it in a sweet manner while he sought for your mouth with his, leaving a honeyed peck on it, “it will hurt a bit, pretty. but i’ll try and make it feel good, hm? if you’re not sure, we can always stop.”

you could only bite your lip as the both of you searched for security in each other’s eyes. he tilted his head, waiting for your approval, the grin spreading and making his long dimples visible infectious, and you stumbled on your words, “can you— kiss me while you do it?”

he hummed fondly, his lips immediately finding yours as he positioned himself between your legs, spreading again and granting him access to the spot you were anxiously eager to feel him.

his tongue slowly moved with yours and lightly lulled your racing heartbeat, instilling some needed tranquility in your system as you felt him close to your core again. his middle finger repeated a circular motion around it, spreading your stickiness, only to bring it on your hole before delicately pushing his digit inside.

a choked out moan escaped you, captured promptly by his lips, keeping you somewhat distracted from the slight burn you felt. it grew the more he slipped himself inside you, and you bit his lip to conceal the pain.

he growled at the action, retreating his finger only to push it in again, this time tentatively deeper. he went over the movement a few times, enough to get you adjusted to the foreign presence, and the more he did it, the more the sharpness turned into pleasure.

”feel good, princess?” the pet name was whispered against your swollen lips, and you kept your eyes closed as you nodded, basking in the newly welcomed feeling.

when he started curling the finger inside you, you involuntarily bucked yourself up against him, your body spasming with your hole and he groaned at the feeling of your tightness, unconsciously grinding on the sheets.

he couldn’t help himself from breaking your kiss to look down, getting lost in the way his digit got sucked inside you, only to come out soaked in your juice. without warning, he slowly added another finger, and you arched your back, searching for support in his shoulder.

jeongguk’s eyes kept jumping between your wet cunt, where his fingers worked in and out, and your pleasure-contorted expression, your mouth agape and unleashing your every moan as your eyes squeezed shut.

he felt deliriously close only from the image, his hard dick desperate for friction and insatiable with the way he was still constricted in his jeans. but this moment was about you and you only. once he felt the way you gripped his shoulder tighter at one particular curl of his digits, he kept hitting that spot repeatedly, faster.

you didn’t notice his face retreating at first, too lost in the bliss of his purposed touch, but you gasped harshly, your eyes tearing open the moment you felt his lips enveloping your clit again and sucking at it, lapping all around it, tasting it as if it was his first meal after ages.

when you looked down, you found him already staring at you through half-lidded eyes. you wailed, feverish, “oh, shit. gguk, don’t— don’t do that.”

he hummed questioningly, and the sound reverberated against your sensitive nub.

you rolled your eyes back, ”gonna cum again if you— fuck.”

“cum around my fingers, baby. cum on my tongue,” the words came out slurred, his mouth full of you, the drenched sounds of your pussy making his encouragement even more erotic as he added a third finger.

his digits kept digging relentlessly inside you, that spot that made your legs weakly squish jeongguk between them being hit repeatedly and bringing you close to your second climax.

what completely undid you were his eager cries against your cunt, and when you managed to lift your head to look down at the boy working so desperately to make you cum on his lips, you saw his hips rutting frantically against your sheets.

you didn’t even have time to announce it, the way your hole spasmed around his fingers and your high-pitched moans doing it for you as you fully let go for the second time because of jeongguk. it was more intense, your body moving with it and unconsciously running away from the touch once it became too intense.

jeongguk cleaned you as best as he could, slurping your juices and licking you off his fingers, climbing up to find your lips and share your own taste with you, his chin coated with your slick.

your pleasured sounds mixed together, the both of you panting and soon laying in silence, one beside the other, staring at the ceiling. you laughed breathlessly, “fuck, gguk. i almost died.”

he only chuckled along with you, the sound strained and dying soon in his throat. with your heartbeat and your breathing settling down, you turned to the side to find jeongguk with his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenching. his fists were clutching the fabric beside him, and his knuckles were white from the effort.

it wasn’t complicated to understand why, the next thing you spotted being the hard outline of his cock looking completely suffocated by his pants. you gulped, “gguk. you seem hard.”

he let out a delirious scoff, his eyes finding yours with an intensity you were only then noticing, ”i am hard, baby. so hard for you.”

you tentatively guided your hand to the button of his jeans, undoing it along with the zip. your words were hesitant, but so sincere, ”let me touch you. wanna make you feel good, too.”

jeongguk watched with his mouth agape as you straddled his lap, sitting on his legs only after sliding his pants down to his ankles. you looked so innocent, timidly playing with the hem of his boxers, and he tried to be patient, but he couldn’t.

he groaned, his head thrown back. “___. please, do something.”

his eyes were glossy with frustration, and you had to fight the urge to kiss him stupid, focusing on the task ahead. a big one, indeed. you weren’t going to lie, you were already intimidated by the outline of it.

now that your naked body sat on top of him, being faced with his almost totally bare skin, you realized how much bigger he was compared to you. of course, he was taller, always towering over you, teasing you for your height and pretending he didn’t see you, bumping into you purposefully or asking how’s the weather down there?

but with his large palm resting at your side and almost covering your entire tummy, you realized the implications of such difference. he could totally wreck you, if he wanted to.

ogling at his dick didn’t make it better. it looked huge. a wet patch stained his underwear near the tip, and you salivated at the sight of it.

you tentatively let your finger run along the covered length, and he hissed, slightly thrusting his hips, making you slide closer, “baby. don’t tease.”

the apology was ready and fast on your lips, genuine concern written in your eyes. you didn’t want to keep his suffering going, but you were also hesitant with how exactly you were going to please him. you’ve never seen a real-life dick, and you’ve certainly never touched one.

it was like jeongguk could read your every thought, your wide orbs like an open book to him, reassurance slipping out of him naturally, “doll. you see this?” he took your wrists and laid your hand on his hardness, gulping at the contact, “you feel this? this is what you did to me. there’s no reason why you should doubt yourself, okay?”

you nodded, still unsure, but surely smiling at his sweet tone. he grinned himself, “you’re so hot, and i literally almost came just by looking at you.”

the giggle that escaped you was lively and it eased your nerves with the way it mirrored in his eyes, fondly jumping all over your face. you bit your lip as you escaped his attentive gaze, finally freeing his cock from his confines and making him release a shaky sigh.

it was perfect. pretty. it touched just under his belly button, the tip angry and wet with precum, the pulsing veins running along its length making it throb.

you took it in your hand delicately, jeongguk hissing, and you gasped under your breath. it felt thick in your hold, your fist barely closing around it.

you weren’t sure what to do. your only examples were pornos, and you knew not to fully trust them. but as you started letting your wrist tentatively flick up and down, slowly, you eagerly drank in his reaction.

jeongguk moaned lowly, his eyelids fluttering shut, focusing on the feeling of your smooth hands taking care of his boner. he got louder when you unexpectedly played with his tip, your thumb swirling around it and spreading his wetness down.

your movements were messy, stutteringly uncoordinated, but the concentrated look in your eyes as you stared at his member intently made his head spin, wishing he could fill your slightly agape, watering mouth with it.

in your own mind, you wished his length could be stuffing up your cunt, instead. you slowed down your doings, ending up haltering them as he found your face again, a protesting whine ready to escape him, but you were quicker to surprise him, your voice shy, ”wanna feel you inside me.”

jeongguk groaned deliriously, eyes rolling back at the simple request, ”fuck. you sure?”

you whispered, ”please.”

”of course, angel. been waiting for so long.”

your mouths found each other quickly, starving, both your heartbeats picking up at the prospect of what was going to happen. he combed through your hair to move them behind your ears, rolling the two of you and making you the one laying under his weight.

in between kisses, you asked, impatient, “do you have a condom?”

”yeah, got one in my wallet,” he was panting with effort just as you were, moving from you only to fully free himself from his clothes and then search in his jeans pockets.

as he took the condom out, ripping it open, he stumbled on his words, suddenly awkwardly self-conscious, “it’s not like i have it because i was— expecting us to, huh—“

”jeongguk. it’s okay,” your sweet voice interrupted his overthinking, pulling him to be on top of you again by his arm, “i’m glad you have it, ‘cause i need to feel you. right now.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. you watched, eyes glossy with want, need, as he rolled the condom along his length, huffing out at the sensitivity.

jeongguk brought you closer to him by your thighs, wrapping them around him. he lowered himself on his forearms, his forehead touching yours, eyes swimming together, the proximity making the both of you smile sheepishly.

he exhaled, “are you still sure about this, doll?”

you nodded, the subtle but growing anxiety making your words get stuck in your throat. jeongguk was gentle, patient, his large palm cupping your cheek, “need to hear you say it.”

”yes. i’m sure. want you so bad,” the confession was slurred, shy under his adoring gaze. he kissed along your jaw, slow, intentional.

“okay. just know we can stop whenever you want. let me know if it hurts. i wanna hear you, hm?” his eyes searched yours, frantically, making sure you were good.

as you nodded again, he grasped your hand to hold it, letting your fingers intertwine and lay by your head. with the other hand, he took his length and positioned it where you needed him the most.

jeongguk made it all feel so intimate, special, and safe, that you sensed your eyes water with a feeling stronger than the words you could allow yourself to say. you felt eternally grateful to him for turning a moment you used to dread into something so delicate and precious.

you felt adored. you felt seen, and heard. you felt protected, understood. you saw your reflection in his eyes, in a way that made you want to hide in there forever, maybe travel a bit further down and find home in his heart.

as he started easing himself inside you, both of you gasping at the feeling, his hand gripping yours harder, a tear ran down your cheek. it was a mixture of emotions, sensations. the fullness of his cock entering you, the burn that came with it, his eyes widening alarmingly as he noticed the tears welling along your bottom lashes.

he stilled inside you, his tip now nuzzled in your warmth, his breath hitching, “does it hurt? baby, what’s wrong?”

”no, it’s just—“ it was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it. not now. maybe never? you swallowed it down your throat, “it hurts a bit but it feels so good, gguk.”

”yeah? fuck. you’re so tight, princess. taking me in so good,” his praises replaced the hurt, both emotional and physical, with a familiar fuzzy pleasure, pooling in your lower stomach and releasing more of your wetness on his dick, making it easier for him to slip inside you.

he groaned as he bottomed out, your moan higher than intended. you felt him throb inside you, just how he could feel you pulse around him. a string of curses followed as he repeated the slow action, pulling back to his tip only to push back in, making sure you grew accustomed to the feeling.

”gguk. i feel so full,” you cried, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, forcing him to stay still inside you. he growled, kissing along your neck and leaving small bites to contain himself from snapping his hips against you.

it was complicated, with the sounds escaping your lips resounding sweetly in his ears and your hole tightening around him in a torturous manner making him release precum inside the condom.

”baby, can i please move? i’m gonna go crazy,” his voice was strained, whiny, muffled in the crook of your neck as your fingers combed through his hair, unconsciously searching for comfort.

your granting hum was more of a high-pitched whine, but he took it positively as he attempted one first thrust inside you, followed shortly by another. your moans got stuck, the air cut from your throat the more he picked up his pace, lifting his face from your neck and straightening up to admire the scene.

it was better than anything he’d ever witnessed, his thickness stuffed in your tight, virgin hole and taking him in so perfectly. he took his free hand to hold you still by your hip as he pushed himself deeper.

you were a mess underneath him. legs squeezing around him, you barely gave jeongguk space to move. you wailed, his name tumbling out your tongue repeatedly as he fucked into you faster. he’d been so gentle with you until that moment, but now his roughness made you impossibly wetter.

when you let your eyes flutter open, you could feel yourself spasm around him at the sight in front of you. his abs contracted with the effort of his pushes, his cock slammed into you relentlessly, his nipples hardened and called for your touch.

you threw one hand to his pec and felt his firmness under you, gripping it for support as he pounded you with intent, your nails scratching his skin, the sounds of your bodies slapping together overtaking your pleasured moans.

he panted, rambling, “fuck, love this pussy. love fucking this pussy. wanna fuck it forever.”

“made just for me. such a perfect fit.”

“that’s how you’ve been waiting to be fucked, huh? nice and deep, you fucking love that.”

his praises and dirty comments made your head spin, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, letting your mouth hang open and release your cries into the stuffy room.

the sight of your fucked out state underneath his control was going to torture him for the following weeks, he was sure of that. he’d see you, sprawled out on your bed for him, your tits moving up and down with each thrust, your pleasured tears staining your face as his name left your pillowy lips like a mantra, every time he’d close his eyelids.

he had to physically hold himself back from releasing already, his length too sensitive and eager, but he wanted to make this moment last for as long as he could possibly handle. he closed his eyes, but he couldn’t escape you. you were loud, and the hottest thing he’s ever heard.

and then, the challenge became harder when you stuttered, unexpectedly, “wanna ride you.”

he threw his head back, a feverish groan rising up his throat, “fuck. you do, pretty?”

you hummed, just as unhinged, your legs untightening around him and weakly pulling at his arm to try and bring him to lay on the bed. he pulled himself out of you slowly, making you cringe at the emptiness, and as he let his back fall on the soft surface, he lifted your figure effortlessly and led you to straddle him.

now on top of him, you weren’t so confident with your earlier claim anymore. underneath you, jeongguk was panting, his pupils blown out, lips agape, cock laying unattended on his stomach. he stroked your sides comfortingly, subtly pulling you closer, and the action caused your slicked pussy to grind against his balls.

the two of you moaned at the contact, and he immediately took his length to pump it a couple of times, gently tapping it against your tummy. you lifted your hips up, positioning yourself on his tip, looking down at jeongguk for support.

the lazy smile you were met with made your heart stutter in your chest, and you put your hand on top of his, still tightly gripping your hip, as you sank down his dick.

your head was thrown back in pleasure, your back arching into him, and jeongguk had to fight with himself to keep his eyes from fluttering shut, wanting to bask in the image of you.

as you fully took him in, you leaned your weight on the palm that fell on his chest, his hands steadying you promptly by your waist, praise ready on his tongue, “doing so amazing, princess. making me feel so good.”

you attempted moving subtly, trying to adjust to the more intense stretch, and the hand that was still holding his led it to cup your boob, instructing him to knead at it.

he moaned shakily, playing with your tit while you lifted your hips only to sink them down again, tentatively repeating the action and gaining confidence the more his whines got louder.

soon, you lost control. the way your clit would brush against his skin every time you bounced down made you pulse relentlessly around him, grinding into the sensation and rotating your hips on him with intent.

you tried to prevent it, to hold yourself back, but all your resolution dissolved in a second the moment you felt jeongguk’s thumb teasing your nub. you jolted forward, still balancing yourself on his chest, his hand on your breast working to keep you straight.

”gguk, i think— i think i’m close again,” you admitted ashamedly, your cheeks flushing but your desire unable to make you stop rutting your hips against his touch, his cock throbbing around your walls.

”yeah? then cum around it, make me feel it,” his low voice spurred you on, the thumb that was teasing you now slicing on your nipple, spreading your slick on your boob.

and that made you let go, for a third time, convulsing on top of him, your cries louder as you spasmed around his thick length, your cunt hugging him impossibly tighter, and for a moment you genuinely feared he’d get stuck.

the strength taken out of you was enough to make you fall onto him, your face in his neck as you panted frantically, his heartbeat matching the speed of yours under your palm laying on his chest.

jeongguk’s voice was weak as he spoke in your ear, his fingers stroking your back comfortingly, “that was amazing, baby. so good.”

you appreciated his constant praises, a lazy grin spreading on your lips, but you couldn't ignore the way he kept thudding inside you, quiet whines stuck in his throat as he tried to conceal them by clutching your sides tighter, stilling himself.

jeongguk wailed feverishly when you lifted yourself up again, resuming your earlier actions, the ones that were bringing him to the point he badly wanted to reach. he was breathless as he took in the determined glint in your eyes, “fu— fuck. doll, what are you—“

”wanna make you cum, gguk.”

he physically couldn’t hold himself from rolling his eyes far deep, bucking up to meet your hips, and the force of his thrusts threw your weak body back on him again, your hard nipples brushing against his equally stiff ones.

”i’ll fuck you, baby, hm? you already did so good for me,” his words were hushed, whispered, delirious, the sound of them overtaken by the sharp pounding.

but he made sure you could feel every syllable, his lips close to your lobe as you held yourself tightly on his shoulders, “so perfect. letting me fuck you good and deep. gonna make me cum so hard, doll.”

your brain couldn’t process any other kind of response other than loud cries, your cunt being relentlessly abused. the waves of your last orgasm still flowed inside you, the buzz coming back to life as the new position gave him perfect access to your sweet, needy spot, hitting it at an inhumane force.

his effort was translated into deep, raspy growls only pushing you closer to the edge, and you swore you could pass out from the overstimulation. but you basked in it, the tears in your eyes blurring your vision.

”you wanna cum again? i know you can, c’mon. i know you got it in you, pretty. just another one. cum with me.”

his pleading, delirious tone undid you. the way you both released with harsh moans was perfectly synced, his hips jolting you forward as you chased your high against his lower stomach. with a few more pushes, he let go fully inside the condom, all the energy being ripped from him at that moment, his hands freeing your waist from the sharp grip while his head fell weakly on the side.

the two of you were almost wheezing, your exhales shaking in your panting chests as you lifelessly rested on him, slowly being lulled by his breathing.

you didn’t even notice yourself slipping so easily into slumber, and if it weren’t for his delicate touch tracing your closed eyelids and moving your hair behind your ear, his sweet voice preventing you from fully falling unconscious, you would have enjoyed just staying in that position forever.

“sweetheart. you sleepy?”

you only hummed, the sound rough and thick.

he removed himself from you slowly, both of you still gasping at the overstimulation, and he gently laid you on your back before tying the condom and throwing it in the bin next to your nightstand.

as soon as your head hit the pillow, your eyes fluttered shut again. the room spun faintly, and your body, exhausted, ignored every request your mind was screaming at you. you were cold, goosebumps rising on your naked skin; your thighs still trembled, a mess of wetness and slick. but you were too tired to move. you could only lay there, sprawled on the sheets.

luckily, jeongguk thought of everything. his mind was full of you, his only thought being taking care of your figure and making sure you were safe, comforted.

he had taken your virginity. it wasn’t just a physical act— it was a gift you had entrusted him with, something you had kept close to your heart, even through all the fears and anxieties you’d shared with him. you had always been afraid to let go, to give such an intimate part of yourself to someone.

but you trusted him, fully and deeply, in a way that you hadn’t trusted anyone before. that knowledge bloomed in his chest like warmth spreading to every corner of his body. he felt a deep sense of responsibility and gratitude. he wanted to honor that trust.

with care, jeongguk slipped away from your side to retrieve a warm, damp towel. the cool air hit your skin as he left, and you stirred slightly, though not fully awake. when he returned and began gently wiping you down, you startled at the sensation, your eyes slowly fluttering open. you were met with his grinning face, his eyes crinkling at the sides, that same boyish smile that always made your heart skip a beat.

“we should clean up, baby,” he said soft, his voice warm and coaxing as he continued to gently clean the slickness between your legs.

“tired,” you murmured in response, your voice thick with exhaustion. “tomorrow.” the word came out as more of a sigh than anything else. you stretched your arms out toward him, your lips forming a small pout. “cuddle. now.”

jeongguk laughed fondly at your sleepy demands, shaking his head as he tossed the towel to the floor. without a second thought, he slid back into bed beside you, pulling the covers over your naked bodies. the warmth of the blanket and the weight of him beside you immediately soothed the lingering shivers in your body, and you sighed in relief.

instinctively, you reached for him, your leg curling around his, your hands seeking the familiar comfort of his waist. your head rested on his chest, where you could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek. his arm wrapped around you naturally, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your spine.

it wasn’t unusual for you to cuddle, especially during movie nights, or simply when the other needed comfort.

but this was different. there was a new weight to the way your bodies pressed together, your brain grasping around the reality of what had just happened.

your first instinct faced with that thought was to chuckle lightly, your sleepy brain struggling to come up with any more reasonable reaction. when he hummed and moved to look down at your face, you hid yourself further in his chest, your voice muffled, “i can’t believe you fucked me.”

he sounded tauntingly cocky as he moved your hair from your forehead, “now that you put it like that, well, i did.”

your drowsy state lowered all your inhibitions, your eyes fluttering close as you spilled your honesty, “i’ve been fantasizing about this moment for so long.”

“yeah? what a naughty girl,” his playful tone made you blush, the low voice and the hand grazing at the small of your back making you clench around nothing, still sensitive.

you lightly pushed at his chest with a weak smile, “you literally said you were waiting for it to happen, too.”

jeongguk’s eyes gleamed with amusement, his tone dripping in mock shame, “did i, pretty? did i do that? oh god, how indecent of me.”

the taunting banter went on for a while, your fond grins almost breaking your faces in two halves as you started a quick tickle war. it was almost surreal how easily the two of you slipped back into the habituality of your dynamic, as if nothing had changed at all. and in a way, nothing had. you were still you, and he was still jeongguk— the boy who teased you relentlessly and made you laugh until your stomach hurt.

as the laughter faded, your body began to relax completely, your muscles loosening as you sank further into his embrace. your head rested against his toned pecs, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. his fingers continued their gentle caresses along your back, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely at peace.

but jeongguk, even in the quiet comfort of the moment, couldn’t let it end just yet. his mind was still racing, still full of thoughts of you.

he wanted to hear your voice. wanted to be soothed by its melody. he spoke quietly, almost hesitant, his breath warm against your hair, “don’t fall asleep so soon. i’ll miss you.”

your voice was rough with weariness, but you were quick with your answer, “i’m literally lying on top of you.”

“i know,” he whispered, his thumb brushing softly against your waist. “but i wanna talk to you.”

with great effort, you blinked your eyes open, lifting your head just enough to look at him through half-lidded eyes, “it’s your fault if i can’t talk right now.”

“damn, i got a magic stick,” his voice sounded oddly proud of it and you groaned, hitting him weakly on his stomach and causing him to giggle.

“you’re so gross.”

“you hurt me!” he whined dramatically and it made you roll your eyes amusedly.

chuckling softly, you took his face in your hands and pressed your fingers gently against his lips, “shut up.” your voice was playfully fond as you nestled back against him, your eyelids growing heavier by the second, dozing off again.

at least trying to, because only a minute later his soft voice resounded again.

it was barely audible in the stillness, “___.”

“hmm?”

“i’m so happy.”

his whispered voice tickled your ear and you giggled, brushing it on your shoulder with a sheepish grin on your lips.

you looked up at him through droopy eyelids, both your orbs swimming in a deep feeling you couldn’t name, “i am too. i don’t think i can feel my pussy anymore, but i’m very happy nonetheless.”

your wittiness even after being completely drained of all your energy surprised him, the laugh escaping him moving in his chest and reflecting in your own fond smile.

he left a peck on your forehead, bringing you to lay down on him again, “you’re so silly. i love you.”

the words left his lips so naturally, as if he had always known them to be true, and they sounded so right that it took both of you another moment to realize their implications.

your heart stopped, and both of you froze. your breath hitched and your eyes widened, but you stayed still, too startled to look up at him.

you felt his heart beat impossibly faster in your ear, and you perfectly pictured the shock that was painting his expression right now.

his hands clutched your sides tighter, trying to find a way to keep his running mind from spiraling, your silence not helping whatsoever. he stuttered, “i— i mean. i— oh god, i’m so sorry.”

the hurt in his tone immediately made your chest clench, panic flushing in your veins. you met his eyes alarmedly, jumping between them, “jeongguk. don’t be sorry. you love me?”

he wasn’t sure what to do, couldn’t figure out if the feeling was mirrored as intensely in you as it was in him. it had been building inside him for weeks, lingering beneath the surface, making his heart race and his thoughts blur every time you were near.

the realization hadn’t come to him in a grand, sweeping moment but in the quiet of the bookstore one random afternoon. he had been stacking shelves, mindlessly organizing the rows of novels, when he caught sight of you. you were tucked into a corner, absorbed in a murakami novel, your fingers brushing the edges of the pages with care.

he hadn’t expected you to show up that day. he was sure you’d mentioned having lectures and that you couldn’t meet up with him, so seeing you there, completely unannounced, had startled him.

he remembered standing there for a moment, frozen in place, just staring at you walk through the door. and then you had lifted your head, and your eyes met his across the quiet, sunlit room.

the smile you gave him was sheepish as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your confession tumbling out softly, “i skipped my classes. i wanted to be here. needed to see you.”

it was shy, and said with a feeling in your gaze that he was scared to decipher.

but he couldn’t help the way it settled in his heart. stubborn, unmoving. the truth was clearly in front of him, and it took the semblance of your face.

you were the truth. he was in love.

so, he could only be truthful to you, “i— yes. i love you.”

the words sank into your skin, filling you with warmth and a sense of completeness that made your chest swell. you exhaled deeply through your nose, trying to steady the burst of emotion building inside you, but your eyes softened, and a tear slipped down your cheek as you smiled, wide and genuine.

“i love you too, gguk.”

it was a simple reply, but the weight behind it carried everything. you didn’t need to say anything more. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, your lips immediately eating at each other, gulping down your furious flow of thoughts and accepting. hearing. feeling. seeing.

all the times you forced to keep shut and convince yourself that what you saw in him and all his care towards you was just coming from a place that would forever see you two as friends. all the secret touches, the shared meals, the warm nights on your couch. all the books you read for him, all the lines he highlighted for you.

it was love. all along. and you felt its power against him, your heartbeats syncing.

when you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, both of you breathing softly in the quiet aftermath of the confession. jeongguk’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

the silence that followed wasn’t awkward or uncertain. it was peaceful. comfortable.

and lulled by the quiet, jeongguk ended up being the first to fall asleep, his nervous energy fading away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. his breathing became slow and steady, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his muscles relaxing.

despite your earlier exhaustion, you were too wired to sleep. you were still flowing with excitement. the night’s events hit you with great force, and kept you wide awake.

quietly, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, careful not to disturb jeongguk. the screen lit up, showing the time. 3:47 am.

even though it was late, you couldn’t resist. you pulled up jimin’s contact and pressed the call button. waiting. he was always awake at this hour.

jimin had been your best friend for years. your loyal confidant, the one you could splutter all your feelings to and never be judged. he had been by your side all along this particular ride, going from a silly, little crush to feeling raging love for the boy in your arms.

you smiled wide at the prospect of jimin’s reaction at the news you were about to share with him. he was the first person you wanted to inform, he deserved to know.

“bitch, don’t tell me you’re crying over jeongguk, ‘cause—“

those are the first words that came through the line, and they made you silently chuckle at the irony, immediately engaging in his banter, “well, sorta kinda. he said he loves me.”

there was a beat of silence on the other end, followed by jimin’s amused scoff, “wow. crazy news. would have never guessed.”

you were stunned, to say the least. your mouth hung open as you whisper-yelled, “bitch! is this seriously all you have to say?”

you were mindful not to wake jeongguk with your conversation, looking down at him with care. his cheek was squished on your small breast, his mouth pouting and releasing heavy puffs. one of his hands rested protectively over your side, and his thumb brushed your under boob.

he was cozily nestled between your legs, his wavy hair brushing your chin, and he looked so peaceful it was like he was made to be held by you.

you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes as jimin’s next words accompanied the view of the boy you loved, now finally yours.

“babe, c’mon, it was obvious.”

[dadsbongos]

hi i happened to stumble across your page and i read your previous denji fics and loved them! may i request a fem!reader x denji where the reader is a transfer student and denji decided to show her around? it'd be cool if she was an exchange student so her japanese wasn't the best, too.

oh, and in the end or something, it'd be sweet if she called him her friend denji just like melted because he doesn't have great luck with girls.

i had this in my drafts to get posted eventually i cannot fucking believe i forgot about it nonny i am SOSOSOO sorry!!! jeez...

589 words - hinted fem reader but you're not described, if reader's dialogue sounds awkward its intentional

denji comes off as a ‘everybody leaves me’ guy for a sec but as we all know. everybody do be leaving him and its actually not his fault lol ~~~

“You have a nice head.”

“Huh?”

“Head…” you frown under Denji’s quizzing stare, then curling a finger through your hair, “I like it.”

“Oh, hair,” he repeats.

“Hair.”

“Yeah.”

Your frown deepens, “Sorry…”

Denji shrugs, hands in his pockets, “Don’t worry about it. You’re not from here, right?” you nod, almost shyly, “Then, don’t worry about it.”

When you don’t seem visibly relieved or even a little soothed, he continues,

“Really, it isn’t a big deal,” Denji’s been worse off, “I only know one language, you’re learning two.”

“I just worry other people judge me,” you sigh, kicking a rock from under your shoe, “What if they think I’m stupid?”

“They think everyone’s stupid. If anything, being a foreigner will get you admirers,” he shrugs, then nodding towards the door leading back into school from the roof, “Come on. There’s nothing else up here.”

A curious hum leaves you, “Why bring me to the roof first then?” you clasp a hand over your mouth, “Sorry, if that sounds rude.”

“Our class is on the second floor, so if I take my time working down from the roof, we can miss most of the morning classes,” he grins, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight.

“Is that okay?”

“If they wanted a snappy tour, they shouldn’t have picked me,” he holds the door open for you, “What? You excited to hear boring shit on your first day?”

“Not really…”

“So… let’s just take our time,” he waggles a thin wood slab in front of your face, “Hall pass.”

“Hall pass,” you nod in confirmation, hugging your bag tight to your chest as a comfort device despite trying to appear casual, “Okay! Let’s take our time!”

You really don’t want to seem un-cool in front of this guy… His lax energy and low eyes, unkempt hair and spiky teeth; everything about him screams intimidation, yet he’s been nothing but kind to you.

“There’s nothing you really need on this floor, but I’ll walk you through it anyway,” he folds his arms, “Good to be thorough, huh?”

His tone gives way to utmost sarcasm, it makes you laugh softly.

“Yeah,” you press your lips before finally spitting out, “Can I sit with you later for lunch?”

“Sure.”

“Really?!”

“Why not?” he turns to look at you, “You seem nice. You haven’t tried killing me, and you’re super pretty.”

Again, you have the urge to shout so you do, “Really?!”

He nods, cheeks flaring pink, “You’re so pretty, I’m surprised you haven’t tried killing me yet.”

“Why would I want to kill you?”

Oh, Denji could fall to the floor right now, your voice is so soft and sugary and the crease in your brow is downright pathetic with how concerned it is -- you’re wide-eyed and pouting. You’re so sweet.

“Girls don’t usually like me when I’m alive.”

“That’s terrible…”

“I know.”

“I like you when you’re alive!”

Your earnest exclamation makes his face heat up, palms clammy. He swallows around the sudden uncertainty clogging his throat, “Seriously?”

“Seriously!” you beam, squeezing your bag harder, “You’re a good friend! At least, so far… I’m hoping we can be friends, is that okay?”

Denji sniffles, eyes stinging with waterworks, he clenches his eyes -- praying to avoid tearing up in front of you, and nods curtly, “I’d like that.”

“Yay!” now you’re full blown cuddling your bag against your chest, now from joy instead of nerves, “I’d like that, too!”

Denji thinks you’re the prettiest he’s ever seen when you’re happy like that.

[pink-melk]

warnings: gn/afab reader, office workers au, everyone is aged up 21+, power imbalance dynamics (toji is your boss), alcohol consumption, piss kink, wetting yourself, public urination, fingering, degradation, a lot of shame and embarrassment, mentions of classic japanese work culture

note: happy birthday toji the love of my life!!! my hc is he turns 47 this year :) old baby man this fic isnt beta read so apologies for any mistakes or whatever but please mind the tags! ♥

18+ minors and ageless blogs dni you will be blocked

"Can you take another?" Your boss, Toji asks with a fresh glass of booze waving in front of your face. Despite your churning stomach and blurred vision, you nod and take the drink.

When compared to other bosses you've worked for, Mr. Fushiguro isn't nearly as strict or serious in or out of the office. He's pretty lax about most things and creates a fresh work environment in the office — you love working for him, but that doesn't mean you're going to let go of all your formal training. At the end of the day, Toji is still your boss, and if he offers you the drinks other coworkers are buying for him, you take them with a smile despite it all.

The company had offered to pay for everyone's food and drinks to celebrate Obon in the short, mandatory holiday your office is given. Initially the plan was dinner and a couple of drinks, nothing too serious and definitely not an event that would bleed into the early hours of the morning. Despite missing the last train home, all your coworkers slowly tapped out through the night, sipping on the final drink Toji was bought when the last guest of your party leaves the bar.

Not long after do you both leave for the next bar on his agenda, something about watered down drinks; of which he hasn't actually drank himself. The peak summer air doesn't hit you as hard as it should, but it's enough to have you losing your balance only slightly when you step onto the uneven path.

Toji chuckles, a hand hovering over you, ready to catch you if you stumble but you're determined to maintain your composure. "You should go back to a hotel and call it there, you pounded a few drinks tonight."

You shake your head and grow dizzier from the action, inhaling deeply. When you offer your boss your best, most professional and sober smile, he grins. "I'm good." You say through a mouth of cotton. "Unless you want to go to your hotel — by yourself, I mean."

Raising an eyebrow at you, his grin widens and the scar on the corner of his lip stretches. He's so handsome and mysterious, you always wonder how or why he became the manager of your little team. As far as you know he doesn't have any familial ties to the company, he just fell into the position. While in your own head pondering Toji's existence, he had already set off down the street.

This part of Tokyo is much quieter than the main cities — much less expensive too. Toji had bartered with finance on where to eat since the company was being cheap, but the food was quite nice considering. It's a change in atmosphere from the bustling nightlife of Shinjuku or Shibuya. There aren't people sleeping on the streets or harassing police who patrol the area.

As quiet as it is, you're still unsure when your boss turns into a dark alleyway. It doesn't take long for him to realise you're not following him, standing on the edge of the streetlight, yellow frames his sharp features in a way that makes your mouth water.

"Come on, this way is faster." When you don't start following him, Toji steps forward. "Are your legs not working anymore? This isn't the office, that excuse isn't going to work."

You take a step back and bite the inside of your lip to hold back a pout. Maintaining professionalism when you're drunk is harder than it seems.

"It's…Dark."

Toji laughs, so loud it echoes off of the walls of the abandoned buildings he's stood between. "How about I protect you? You're safe with me." He smiles and you can't help but feel at ease. "I can't lose my best employee or else the team would collapse."

All you can muster is a giggle in response but begin to follow anyway. You trust your boss wouldn't let any harm befall you, best employee or not.

The alleyway is dark and disgusting, tucked away from any kind of life, it's just you and Toji. Streetlights peek in between the buildings the further you traverse down the path, only hearing the buzz of your veins in your eardrums and Toji's groan under his breath.

"Should've used the bathroom before we came out."

"The next bar isn't that far, is it?"

Toji doesn't answer but in the lowlights of the alley, you turn to see your boss pissing against the wall of a building. You jump and make an involuntary noise of surprise, embarrassed at what you'd just witnessed and turning away. The visual of your drunken boss leaning his forearm against the wall, forehead resting on the wall looking down at himself, hand on his soft cock with piss streaming out will forever be burned in your memories.

He groans and sighs in relief, continuing the steady stream that it sounds like he'd been holding for a while. The noise of his urinating sets off your bladder too, suddenly deciding you are ready to join him.

No, you tell yourself. You'll be a decent human being and wait rather than peeing in public — no matter the darkness or the privacy, you would never do such a disgusting and trashy thing in front of your boss.

"If you need to go too," Toji starts as he shakes himself dry and tucks his cock back into his pants, "Here's your chance 'cos the next bar is pretty far."

You do need to go and the more you think about it, the worse your bladder becomes. Holding onto your pride, you tilt your chin up and hum. "No, I can wait."

He laughs and you feel his presence behind you. "I won't look if you do, promise."

"I am not going to pee in an alley in front of my boss." You balk, turning around to face him and trying not to think about his piss.

"I'm drunk enough not to remember it…maybe, probably."

With a huff, you mumble "I'm still not doing it." And begin walking again, even if going to the bathroom and relieving yourself has become all you can think about.

Walking slowly, you try to concentrate on how not full your bladder is, on how nice Toji's piss sounded hitting the wall or his sighs of relief as he let himself go. You feel so full in a way that's not at all how you want and you're beginning to sweat in the muggy Japanese heat. Still on edge with your need to pee and maintaining a level of respect and professionalism with your boss, you jump and almost let yourself go when Toji hisses in your ear. Laughing at you, he teases with the sound of a running stream to encourage you.

"Don't…!" You start and cut yourself off, composing yourself while Toji grins all smug with an empty bladder. "Let's go to the next bar if it's far. It's too hot and gross out here. Please."

Your manners are slipping with each passing moment that your boss's cock is in your head. What if he remembers this and fires you? Maybe all of this was a test to see how you'd react, encouraging you to piss even within earshot so he can fire you for inappropriate actions.

Except when you began to walk again, Toji used his arm to intercept you and trap you against the wall. You moved quickly to avoid his touch — more out of politeness than rejection — caged between his arms on either side of your head. He's so much taller than you, bigger and buff he makes you feel like a little mouse.

It's so strangely intimate and inappropriate, your clit is beginning to throb with your swollen bladder. Needing to pee and growing horny is an odd combo.

"If you need to go," Your boss whispers in your face, "Then you should go while you can."

The strange combination of warm spice and alcohol is attacking your brain in a way that's so very unfair. It reminds you of work, stepping into Toji's office. The scent also reminds you of a long term lover storing their cologne in your bathroom, a homely reminder that sets your mind at ease.

Swallowing thick and trying to clear your head, you respond, "It would be inappropriate for me to do such a thing. I'm not a drunken slob."

You say, slurring every word.

He laughs. "Squat and piss for me right now." Toji's tone lowers, growing darker and your clit vibrates harder. "I'm your boss, aren't I? You'd listen to anything I tell you to do."

Looking up at him with almost wet, pleading eyes, you silently beg for mercy. Your bladder grows weaker with each passing moment, unable to stop yourself from thinking about peeing. The sweet relief every other time you've urinated, how shameful it would be to piss in front of him — you don't even consider the reason why he's poking and prodding you about going.

Toji grins, something so wicked and devious, it makes you forget this is your boss and not a hot guy you fell into at the bar. The last thing you want to do is disappoint your boss but it's clear the manipulation tactic he's using, though the power he wields over you is doing unspeakable things to your clit. He has the power to fire you at the flick of a wrist, to make sure you never work in Tokyo ever again, and you wonder if he will do exactly that if you do or don't do as he says.

Bladder so full, you sweat bullets as Toji continues teasing you. "You had a lot of drinks since I last saw you use the bathroom — that was a couple of bars ago, yeah? You're probably full to bursting."

To emphasise his point, your boss presses his fingers into your stomach, poking around to find your swollen and urine filled bladder. It's such an inappropriate and intimate act, your boss should never be touching you like this even as a joke, yet you find yourself almost wishing he would find it. Each press of his fingers over your shirt sends shocks of excitement throughout your body, as though his body was made of electricity. You wish he would touch you skin to skin, rub his hands over your stomach and really take his time trying to find the perfect spot to press.

When he finds your sensitive organ, you squirm and involuntarily cry out at the pressure. Toji grins, "I'm just trying to look after you." His voice is low; hot, alcoholic breath hitting your lips and you wish to devour the taste. "Be a good worker and make sure you relieve yourself when you need to."

He continues poking your bladder, savouring your whines and gasps before the same hand finds its way beneath the waistband of your pants. It's all too much; trying to focus on not pissing yourself, the distracting thump of your clit with arousal, alcohol swirling in your veins and the spinning of your head. Toji's hand moves so fast in your pants, snaking down beneath your underwear in the tight space and carefully sliding between your folds to find your clit. The skin-to-skin contact makes your legs tremble and when his fingertips prod your swollen bud, you can't hold back anymore.

You release yourself then and there, suddenly sober enough to see the surprise on your boss's face. The sweet relief of your bladder being emptied is almost as good as an orgasm, momentarily embracing the warmth between your legs. For a second, you forget it's piss and not a warm bath you'd sunken into. You keep going and going, there's no way to stop as your pants grow unbearably damp and liquid trickles all the way down your legs, dripping onto the concrete. It's quiet bar your whimpers of relief — you can't bring yourself to look at Toji.

While your empty bladder and throbbing clit with your boss's hand still in your pants is nice, the alcohol seems to hit you again with a fresh wave of embarrassment and shame. Nausea swirls in your gut and you hold back from giving Toji more reasons to fire you; not just fire you, but blast your crimes of disgusting behaviour all over Tokyo. Your family name will forever be tarnished because you don't know how to control yourself, acting like a child soiling themselves in front of your boss. You're ready to hand in your resignation immediately — that, or kill yourself before the sun comes up.

Toji laughs and you still can't bring yourself to look at him. If he hadn't trapped you against the wall with his enormous frame, you'd have run far, far away, never to be seen again. His hand remains in your pants, the heel of his palm pressing against the peak of your lips as his fingers press along your folds, having moved to hit the hot stream of piss coming from you.

"I didn't expect you to piss yourself." Your boss chuckles in disbelief and you wish the ground would collapse beneath you. "You're disgusting."

It's said with a smile, you can hear it but it doesn't soften the blow on your heart — or your clit.

You gasp when his fingers slide inside of you. Two of them at once, thick and stretching you so delicious, you instinctually grab onto Toji's arms for leverage. You're confused; he just called you disgusting, he's laughing at you, why is he continuing to touch you? Instead of running away like you expected, he pushes himself closer to you, trapping you further between his body and the wall. His hips press into yours, his hand still buried in your pants and fingers in your cunt between you, hips flush against yours with his prominent erection prodding you. Toji pants in your ear as he moves in and out of you, dipping his head into the crook of your neck to get as close as he possibly can.

He's…getting off to this? It's hard to make sense of the situation, about anything that's just happened. Forced to piss yourself in an embarrassing act, your reward is being fingered in an alleyway at two in the morning. Still, you cling onto your boss, melting into his touch and allowing yourself to make the most of his generosity.

"So dirty, a filthy bitch." Toji whispers in your ear and you can't help the way your walls tighten in response, thriving off of the degradation. You are a dirty and disgusting bitch. "Would you piss on me again? If I put my cock in your pretty pussy, would you piss all over my thick, hard cock?"

You're breathless from the combination of his fingers and repulsive suggestion. Stars litter your vision and you know it's not from the alcohol. Nodding your head against his shoulder, you hum and whisper a breathy "Yeah."

Toji groans loudly, something from the back of his throat, pulling out before you'd even come close to finishing. Before you have a chance to process anything or maybe run away from shame, he's pulling your feet off the ground and hooking your knees on either side of his hips. The feeling of your slowly cooling piss being forcefully pressed into you by your boss's hips isn't something you ever expected to experience. His hard, clothed cock against your sodden and clothed pussy has you dizzy and drooling, though. Kissing you with desperation, he's all teeth and tongue and alcohol to the point you can hardly breathe. Everything feels like the strangest dream but you aren't complaining in the slightest.

"We're getting a room and some drinks," He demands, just as breathless, "And you can make a mess on my cock."

If you were any more drunk, you'd be convinced you're hallucinating as your boss drags you by your hand out the alleyway, intending to feed you drinks until you piss on him again.

[dreamwatch]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Prompt: Envy | Word Count: 1313 | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin, Steve Harrington, Corroded Coffin are ruthless, Eddie's going through it but it gets better, healing

(I didn't add any warnings for this, but if you think I've missed anything plese let me know)

At least Eddie can say they were nice about telling him his services were no longer required.

He turns up for practice with a little pep in his wobbly step; he’s getting some strength back in his hands and he has some chords nailed down now and it’s coming along. Slowly. But Steve says it’s like sport, marginal gains, every win is still a win no matter how small. 

The vibe is off the moment he walks into the garage; the guys look at each other in silent conversation until Gareth says “We need to talk.”

Jeff and Matt look at him all sad-eyed and it all feels a little as if Eddie is a dog about to go for his last car ride.

“Look, Eddie, truth is, it doesn’t feel like things are really getting any better, you know? And we have this opportunity.”

A gig up in Chicago, a friend of his cousin got them in the door. There’s going to be A&R people there, and Eddie just isn’t good enough anymore.

“We’re really sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie and Wayne got t-boned in the truck once and he’ll never forget the force of it, hurtling sideways, the crunch of buckling metal, the sickening screech. And afterwards, once everything had come to a stop, the shrill ringing in his ears.

This feels kind of like being t-boned.

“So,” he says to Jeff, his voice more ragged than he expected, “how are you playing my solos?”

Suddenly they find the garage floor very interesting.

Oh god.

“You’ve already replaced me. Right?” He dips to catch their eyes. “Right?”

It’s Gareth that grows a pair and confirms what he already knew.

He stumbles back to the van and speeds out of the driveway, no idea of where he’s going, only knowing he’s not going home. His bedroom is a shrine to music, to metal, to things he loves and has now lost. He can’t bear the fucking thought of it.

He winds up at the lake, can hear birds and the rustle of trees over the sound of his breathing. He’s not much of a crier, not since he worked out that crying wouldn’t bring his mother back but would earn the occasional backhander from his father. So he sits in the back of his beaten up van and does his best to block out the buzz, block-out the voice that tells him he’s a failure, block out the voice that says it would have been better for everyone if he’d died in the Upside Down.

But the voice is loud.

The band leave but the world still turns, it’s just slower and darker than it was before. There are bright spots; he and Steve rent a two bedroom apartment together. After a while they don’t need that second bedroom.

He gets a job at the newly re-opened Radio Shack. Customers still side eye him, and his attempts at jovial conversation are met with blank stares more often than not, so he stops bothering after a while. He has Wayne and Steve, and the kids that aren’t kids anymore, and some days that’s more than enough. Some days.

Steve takes him to Indy to celebrate his birthday.

“We’re hitting up every record and comic book store in the city,” Steve says excitedly and Eddie has to smile back, it’s impossible not to. He gets to come home to this man every night, to climb into bed with him and fall asleep in his arms. It’s nice to have a good thing. Eddie holds onto that on the days that hurt.

They wander the aisles of Tower Records, Steve flashing him the ocassional top forty CD and Eddie flipping him off, and they have fun throwing mock abuse back and forth. He flicks through the metal section, flipping CDs with a practiced finger, pausing on the odd rare Japanese import or limited edition coloured case. Tower has all the fancy shit.

He gets to C and his heart stops.

His picks up the CD with a shaking hand; the logo is more polished but it’s still theirs. He turns it over and three familiar faces stare back at him, looking mean and moody for the camera. And one face he doesn’t recognise, the one that replaced him. He drops the CD into the Jazz section, before telling Steve he wants to go home.

They made it. They actually fucking made it. Maybe it’s only one album, maybe there were more, doesn’t matter, point is they got to have their dream and they kept Eddie from his.

Sweetheart hangs on the wall, covered in dust. There’s a kid out there somewhere that was like him once, had the passion and the talent but didn’t have the money.

It hurts too much to play. It hurts so much not too.

 Eddie puts her in the van with his amps and pedals and drops them off at a thrift store. 

They’re everywhere after that. A group of kids come into Radio Shack wearing their t-shirts. The Hawkins Post runs an article about them, small town boys made good. There’s no mention of Eddie; it’s the first time that it dawns on him there might have been other reasons they wanted to cut ties with him. Wouldn’t have been a good look to have an accused serial killer in the band, afterall.

Dustin admits that he and Mike have been to see them live a few times, they have the backstage passes and autographs to prove it. The absolute audacity of that band to be dolling out autographs to their friends like they’re fucking rock stars—

Right. 

Dustin and Mike never mention them again, and Eddie has a sneaking suspicion that Steve may have said something. Which sucks, because they’re his friends and they shouldn’t have to hide those things from him.

Then he hears them on the radio. 

He pulls the van over, and drops his head onto the steering wheel as he listens to them thunder from his speakers. They sound good. He would buy this record, he would see them live, if it were just anyone else. 

He starts to cry, because they’re better than they ever were with him, and it hurts that they did the right thing leaving him behind. 

Steve and Wayne worry that it’s going to swallow him whole. Eddie’s worried it already has.

He comes home one day to find a computer in their living room, and Dustin on his hands and knees. Apparently they’re connected to the internet now. He has no idea why. But on nights where Steve is working and there’s nothing on TV he starts to use it. His favourite bands have web pages and it’s a fucking revelation. He finds himself talking to people on the other side of the world, arguing with some asshole in England about Iron Maiden’s latest album being their worst (it is), or sending this sweet kid in Australia a list of NWOBHM records he’s got to check out. A whole new world opens up.

He’s three beers deep when he goes looking for Corroded Coffin’s site. His throat tightens as he clicks around the page, looking at their discography, at the tour photos. They played Madison Square Garden in 1997, same year he got promoted to manager at the store. His eyes swim but he can’t help but smile. Good for them. 

He clicks on the band history link and is shocked to see they mentioned him. There’s a photo too.

We miss Eddie every day.

Fuckers. He hates them. He misses them.

Maybe it’s time. He’s doing okay. He’s been in a happy relationship for over a decade, he earns enough to live, his health is okay. Is that so bad, really?

He scrubs at his eyes and hits up the message board and types:

Greetings from Eddie the Banished

@the-unforgivenn ❤️

[beanieable]

It’s time for TMNT headcanons again!

Here’s the first post I made a while ago.

This has been in my drafts for a few months now, so have at it.

2003

Donnie went down a deep rabbit hole on the multiverse after Turtles Forever. Raph had to listen to him talk about and eventually drag him away form the whole thing every time.

Leo and Mikey have spots under their eyes. They’re a lighter shade of green than their scales. You can’t see them usually because of their masks.

In turn, Raph and Donnie have spots on the palm of their hands. Donnie on his left, Raph on his right. If they hold hands the spots over lap. The spots look like little hearts.

Raph and Donnie are twins. Change my mind. The og disaster twins. They walked to Rise disaster twins could run.

2012

Puppy dog eyes work wonders on Leo. All his brothers use it against him, even Raph.

Raph has a heart shaped spot in his shoulder. Donnie has one to match him on his neck.

(Jonatello) Casey kisses the heart spot on Donnie’s neck a lot. He loves doing that.

Leo actually has some faint freckles like Mikey. They just faded out as he got older. If they stay at the farmhouse long enough in summer and go out in day time, they’ll be more visible.

Raph and Donnie are twins. Anger Management Duo my beloved. As the middle children with anger issues they were in time out a lot and one day just decided they were twins.

They made Mikey think they have twin thelepahy. He still believes it years later. Leo believed it for a hot minute too.

They solely became twins to spite their brothers. Mikey was obsessed with the idea of twins for a bit and Leo thought it’s cool too. While Raph and Donnie didn’t really care for the idea, Leo and Mikey got them stuck in time out. Mikey pranked them, they wanted revenge and Leo snitched. Mikey and Leo can’t have a twin if the middle children are twins. 😈

Rise

Donnie and Leo need glasses. But only Donnie wore them when they were kids. Nowadays they mostly wear contacts but they do wear their glasses often too. Mainly when they’re at home.

All four brothers the same happy stim. They wag their tails. I wrote a fic where I included that. Here. But basically it started like this, when Raph was just a normal turtle he found wagging his tail fun and just did it. Then the twins can along and copied him and then Mikey copied them as well. And despite their mutation it just stayed.

Raph turning savage is not really a thing anymore post Season 2 finale. The turtles can feel each others ninpo and knowing his brothers are always with him in a way helps keep his separation anxiety in check. It might still happen but it’s also easier to snap him out of it now.

The turtles are bilingual. They know English and Japanese. Obviously Leo also knows Spanish. They spoke more Japanse growing up, until they met April. They also taught April Japanese. Cassandra is Latina/Korean and knows English, Spanish and Korean as her native languages but learned Japanese when she joined the Foot. CJ knows all four languages, always has. In the bad timeline Cass only spoke Korean with him, April only English, Leo only Spanish and Raph only Japanese. Mikey and Donnie spoke both English and Japanese with him.

Medic Leo. But also, full blown doctor Leo. After the movie he, with Draxums help, got a doctorate degree in the Hidden City.

As much as Leo enjoys being a doctor and fixing people he’s also very interested in dissecting things. He almost dissected Warren once. Raph stopped him. But no one knows if he’ll try doing it again. Spoiler: he will.

Older twin Donnie supremacy here. That said, he may be second oldest but he has no authority over the other two.

Tales/MM

Donnie got April into K-Dramas. They watch them together.

The reason Raph is missing a tooth is Mikey. Mikey accidentally knocked him over the head with his nunchucks and Raph stumbled into a pole. Then he tooth was gone.

Mikey is the medic in this one. I just thought it’d be cool since he he seemed pretty interested in it during the mechazoid arc.

[oro-kapi]

after god observations

so I've read After God 6 months ago but recently in October it just absolutely out of nowhere FULLY seized my hyperfixation to a level so intense I'm genuinely so startled. I haven't felt this normal about a piece of media in YEARS holy moly.

the English fandom is so miniscule so hella I was SO happy to find there's an After God tumblr corner. anyway first post, hello anyone who stumbles across these ramblings... warning this gets kinda rambly but it's just me being gushy about the series.

abt me I don't actually frequent tumblr that much, I'm kinda new in terms of experience, although I just have some social anxiety over talking about things I like publicly so I hope this sideblog gives me a little bit of strength talking to the void. I need a place where I can go INSANE over this series anyway WAHOO!! maybe will also post fanart in the future also, maybe!

there seems to be a much larger fanbase in Japan (mangaplus/urasunday where the original Japanese is posted gets hundreds of comments as opposed to English's official publisher on comikey. albeit I don't think comikey's the best at making it accessible either). Mangaplus/urasunday do post the latest 1-2 After God chapters for free on the website btw for folks who like to read ahead. Unfortunately anything before the latest 2 chapters is region-locked to the app and I don't really want to bother trying to figure out how to get it but that's what I'm mostly aware of.

I've seen some mixed reviews in the English side, though there's only a handful really out there, but most times I feel people are missing the point!!!! AHHHHHH!!!

when I first read the series 6 months ago, I didn't think of it that much except it shared some similar ideas to my own existing original work I thought would be cool to draw some inspiration off of. I'm honestly not really sure what happened in october, but I think it started because I gave it a second reread. And SO MUCH suddenly clicked. I didn't skim the dialogue as much and began to reexamine scenes and panels with the foresight of the later chapter events. And I fell absolutely in love. preordered and got the first volume in english on release date yippee!!

the first volume or chapters 1-8 is admittedly pretty much an exposition dump, but I think that rough start is kinda to be expected for most series trying to get a reader hooked into a new world. chapters 9-20 are really where things start kicking. It leads you to think Kamikura Waka is shounen-type protagonist like one chosen hero vs the big threat, but then breaks down into a more raw, mature look at the complicated lives of normal people who're just trying to survive, find their own happiness, and fight threats they only somewhat comprehend.

are IPOs really that different from humans? But not in the sense "humans are worse and gods are better" or "humans are better and gods are worse", but in the sense that "we're all equally messy in the same way, just trying to exist because that's all we know what we want to do."

I feel it's a story that needs to be read with the attempt to understand the characters as people with layers of contradiction and their relationships with one another. That's where so much of the meat and the weight of After God comes from for me, and many of these "this was disappointing" reviews don't really seem to even notice that part at all or tend to be confused why the characters act the way they do.

/// spoilers ahead!! talking about some of my observations and thoughts

I can't really remember where it was if there was a more explicitly stated spot that Ahu'az takes the form of what people see as most beautiful (at this point I'm wondering if I'm hallucinating this up oh god). Closest thing with the implication this is the case is in Chapter 34 when Yako/Furuya asks "what form did the God Ahu'az take for you?"

if this is the case though and it changes from person to person's perspective... then oh all the more tragic when Shion went to see Ahu'az and saw Waka/Alu'la as her most beautiful person.... DOOMED YURI, FUCK

--

obikawa saying "wow it's cooler here than I expected" back in chapter 9 really gets a new perspective when you apply the later reveal how IPOs are basically born

--

silly thing to wonder about, did the florescent banana tee Obikawa gave Tokinaga somehow become the saving grace that stopped him from getting eaten lol?

he is such a loser (affectionate) though like TOKINAGA YOU'RE LITERALLY 10 STEPS AWAY FROM YOUR HOUSE YOU CAN GET CHANGED!!

--

Tokinaga talks about being afraid of bathtubs chapter 17, and then on a reread I noticed he is standing in front of a bathtub in chapter 3. what kind of hell happened to you my guy omfg

--

I know that damn Default CSP Rubble Asset when I see it!!!!

pattern recognition throws me out of the loop a lot I work on comics in CSP as well and now I don't read webcomics the same way anymore oops. right off here I think it's pretty safe to determine After God was drawn in CSP; assets can't really be converted to other programs.

more CSP assets I recognized:

this hatching brush for the outline of Tokinaga here is ベタ線新 from this set

Nayuu's tree branches are from this set

and I'm pretty sure the water here is from this blood set, which might appear elsewhere a few times (i see these shapes in my dreams. this blood set haunts me so bad)

to be clear this isn't a critique or "using assets is bad" at all. normal readers are not going to notice these things. (in which i'm not normal i study Eno's art so intensely because i admire it so much). when making comics or other repetitively drawn works, artists will take shortcuts and should absolutely take shortcuts. it's just neat to share what tools were used for those curious!

off topic on the topic of csp if anyone would like the link, she's shared the brush she made for drawing Vollof here too!

--

I can't freaking imagine how it feels to have your beloved friend melt away on your lap between your fingers like that unholy

if you squint much, you can make out both Yoriko and Tokinaga overlaid in the speech bubble, though I'm not sure what the next one really says

but ahfjhfgifgh!!! the book being animal anatomy is such a stab in the leg cherry on top

(and it's probably an art error but tokinaga's pinky is back/weirdly has a solid shape there instead of it being flabby glove. wani asks how did tokinaga get there before he and yoriko so silly weird theory its tokinaga from a different time iterative loop? wonky. probably still an art error though)

--

so how did Alu'la get "reincarnated" within a human? How does an IPO get reincarnated at all? We've seen orokapi needed to eat a human to become a specific human. Alu'la definitely didn't eat a human.

We hear from Orokapi he drank seawater mixed with sewage and gained the intelligence that way. Closest I could think of are the microbiota that make up an IPO and their abilities. Maybe Waka's parents or Waka drank shit water of the sort and got the microbiota inside her that way or idfk

--

Thanks Tokinaga for the "uses chopsticks to eat everything" rep 🔥🔥

--

i'll leave you on that this is getting too long AHHAAHAJF thanks for reading, hope you got something cool out of this post! :]

[iseos]

: PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS

library. p. trainee!nakamura kazuha x f!r g. slight angst, fluff wc. 736 w! slightly implied that reader speaks japanese © iseos

the two sat alone in the practice room, the music continuing to play despite the girls having stopped dancing a few minutes ago. y/n watched kazuha through the expansive mirror that covered the wall; both were visibly exhausted.

"i don't think i can keep doing this," y/n managed between heavy breaths. kazuha didn't even open her eyes.

"same," she huffed out and moved to get up, "it's getting late; we should head back to the dorm."

"no—i mean...i’m thinking about leaving the program,” y/n interrupted, catching kazuha’s attention through the mirror. she watched as her body froze in an awkward half-standing position and her head snapped towards her.

"oh."

part of kazuha understood y/n’s sentiment; she wanted the best for her, yet selfishly, she didn't want her to leave. she was one of the only people the former ballerina could talk to and she would've been lost without her.

being a trainee was undoubtedly tough, physically and mentally. constant stress, sore bodies from long hours of practice, and sudden evaluations clouded their uncertain future and debut prospects.

as the song came to an end, an uneasy silence filled the room. y/n shifted uncomfortably under kazuha’s intense gaze, avoiding her reflection in the mirror.

they both hesitated to speak again, the weight of y/n's words lingering in the air. kazuha's eyes eventually softened, a mix of concern and bittersweet understanding replacing her previous unreadable expression as she sat back down beside her.

y/n stumbled over her words, voice vulnerable. “i love this—i really do, and i want to debut—but i’m tired zuha. i just don’t know if i can keep up with the constant pressure anymore. i feel like i’m suffocating.”

her eyes trained on her shoes as she fidgeted with the ends of her laces, "i'm scared that all this hard work might not lead to anything and i'm just wasting my time."

kazuha scooted closer, leaning her head on y/n's shoulder. she remained silent, taking in her words.

their weary faces reflected in the mirror showed their shared struggle, not just with dance routines or vocal exercises, but with the relentless pursuit of a dream that demanded everything from them.

a mixture of emotions swirled within the former ballerina. she understood y/n’s struggles, having similar doubts herself. the pressure of training, the uncertainty of their future debut, and the relentless grind had taken a toll on both of them.

finally, after a long moment, kazuha spoke softly, her voice carrying the weight of understanding and empathy. “y/n, i understand. it’s okay to feel overwhelmed,” her hand found y/n’s offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance, “but remember why we came here. we knew it would be tough, but we believed in this dream.”

y/n nodded slowly, absorbing kazuha’s words. “i’m just…i’m scared of giving up,” she admitted quietly, her voice wavering.

“you won't have to,” she replied firmly, lifting her head to meet y/n’s eyes directly, “we’ll figure this out together, whether it’s pushing forward or finding another path.”

a faint smile formed on your/n’s lips, grateful for kazuha’s unwavering support. they sat there in the quiet practice room; the music had stopped, but their resolve to pursue their dreams, regardless of how small it had become, continued to burn in the reflection staring back at them.

it was silent again for a moment, the only sound being the faint footsteps of people walking the halls despite the late hour. once y/n gathered her thoughts she turned to the other girl, “thank you, zuha,” she began, her voice steadier now, “and i’m sorry for dampening the mood—i mean, we finally got the choreography right, we should be happy right now!”

seeing y/n’s spirits lift, kazuha knelt beside her, grasping the girl’s shoulder. “think about how we felt watching our seniors perform. one day, that will be us, center stage with our own songs!”

“repeat after me: we will debut…and soon,” kazuha declared, shaking y/n lightly. y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the girl’s enthusiasm. “say it!”

“we will… debut!” y/n managed through laughter.

grinning brightly, kazuha practically shouted, “yes we will!”

as they caught their breath, both girls fell into a comfortable silence once more.

“okay, can we go home now? i’m so tired.”

“please,” y/n groaned out.

[cleveradjacent]

I'm so super curious can you tell me more about your interpretation of Yuusaku as a character ^_^

oh thank you for asking! tbh i haven't given yuusaku all that much thought compared to other characters, but i tend to ramble when no one is there to stop me, so this will probably still end up lengthy. (edit from the future: it did)

because of my latest fic and a previous ask, one might get the impression that i dislike him, but i don't. i don't feel one way or the other about him, he's fun to me as a tool for writing ogata and that's about it (same for vasya but this ain't about him). but! ever since i've written 'all that loves you', i've been thinking about the juxtaposition of his good intentions and the more sinister undertones of his worldview, and that's a juicy contrast to sink my teeth into.

on the one hand, he's a naive sheltered kid, a victim of his father and his country. i cannot in good conscience prescribe him ill intent. i believe he suffered at the hands of his father as ogata has suffered -- he was raised an unquestioning lamb to the slaughter and sent off to charge head-first into said slaughter over and over and over until his inevitable end.

not his father, not tsurumi, not ogata, not any other soldier saw him as a person. being disdained for who you are and put on a pedestal for the very same thing are both a kind of dehumanization. he was never hanazawa yuusaku the man to anyone, only a symbol, either in life or in death. even to the story, he's nothing but ogata's plot device. he's barely there. hell, he's nothing but ogata's plot device to me. talk about tragedy.

he wasn't given much time or chance to break out of what he's been taught. all that bullshit about duty and purity and having to be a symbol of both -- when it's all you've ever known, it'll stick. maybe, the inevitability of all i'm about to describe makes him tragic all the more.

and yet!

he is not any naive sheltered kid. he is a japanese soldier in china in 1904. he is dying and leading others into death for a brutal imperialist landgrab. you could argue about how much agency he has over the fact and over his convictions (as a ukranian in russia and the child of an officer, i've had PLENTY of that argument), but i'm not gonna do that here. whatever your stance, the outcome is the same: he's an enthusiastic participant to something truly horrible.

and in the midst of it, his desire to preserve his "purity" comes off as absurd and self-delusional. i'm not arguing for murder; i'm arguing that his belief in this abstract purity, that he has one to maintain in the first place, and, by extension, that he's the only soldier around who should do it makes him extremely out of touch. i've written about this from ogata's perspective in 'this weapon wants' and 'all that loves you': while ogata doesn't think much of the war they're in, he does see a holier-than-thou attitude in the way yuusaku refuses to kill. it's as if he's the only one who can and should keep his hands clean in an inherently dirty ordeal. yuusaku may not himself be an arrogant man, but arrogance does follow from his worldview.

there's a different, more sinister side to this i've explored in 'all that loves you', which i remember you (the author of the ask) (god i hope you're still reading) have read! the world is complex. you cannot let black-and-white thinking dictate your actions without eventually stumbling into a whole lot of harm, whether to others or to yourself. murder is a terrible act, yes. but some people need to be stopped, and for some of them, murder is the only way to do it. if you (the person reading this) haven't read 'all that loves you', it puts yuusaku's views to the test in this exact scenario. and the result is. well. quite fucked up. and it follows pretty seamlessly from what we see of yuusaku in canon, so make of that what you will.

speaking of which, you know how he tells ogata that people like him shouldn't exist while embracing him? also fucked up. yuusaku has the best of intentions, and there's not a chance in the world he has the awareness to go "ok not feeling the emotion of guilt doesn't inherently make you Wrong", but the fact remains: he assumes ogata shares his presumably universal morals and ends up playing right into his insecurity.

there's also yuusaku lacking the self-awareness to know that he's imposing on ogata with his affection. i'm extrapolating here, but i feel like yuusaku's simplistic worldview only allows for affection=good! desirable! and he doesn't stop to question whether it's welcome.

to that: a friend of mine has pointed out once that this astounding inability to read the room could be due to autism. genius take in my opinion. seeing how strong, rigid morals are also an autism thing, i'm convinced now that autism runs in the family. diversity win?

so yeah, to sum this all up, yuusaku has been set up to fail, and fail he did. he's naive, kind, well-intentioned, he's as much of a victim as his brother, but all sorts of messed up things follow from his beliefs and his actions.

and i just think that's neat.

[sophrosynesworld]

The Thing About Heros

Warning: War arc spoilers (kinda?) and mentions of death.

Only twenty years after the war was won, the Japanese government established a memorial educational center near the battle site. Inside its towering glass walls, the center housed an impressive collection of artifacts: original hero costumes, personal belongings salvaged from the wreckage, even the scorched remains of weapons. Occasionally, retired heroes would hold lectures, sharing stories of courage and sacrifice with eager students and aspiring heroes alike.

I had never mustered the courage to set foot inside, not even during the grand opening ceremony when I stood outside with my classmates. They understood my absence. They knew why I stayed on the outskirts, watching from afar. I had never been one to force myself to relive old wounds.

"What was he like?"

The question pulls me from my thoughts. I glance down from the imposing statue, locking eyes with the blonde-haired kid staring up at me.

"Who?" I ask, nodding toward the statue. "Dynamight?"

"Are you stupid?" the boy retorts, his bluntness catching me off guard.

"Depends on who you ask," I reply, my eyes drifting back to the monument—a larger-than-life depiction of Katsuki Bakugo, frozen in mid-action, explosions captured in polished stone.

My eyes drift over the familiar text below.

In Honor of Pro Hero Dynamight:

"A hero’s duty isn’t just to fight villains—it’s to protect, even when the world feels lost."

"Did you know him or not?" the boy presses, his tone sharp with impatience.

"Why do you assume I knew him?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

The boy huffs and crosses his arms, glancing up at me like I’ve missed the most obvious clue. "You're old. He’s old. You’re in a hero costume. He’s a dead hero." He lists each reason with the casualness of talking about the weather.

"I knew him," I say, my voice catching on the edge of unintentional roughness, weighted with a grief that time hasn’t dulled.

The boy's eyes widen, but he doesn’t flinch at the crack in my voice. Instead, he studies me, his young face creasing in thought. There’s a silence that hangs between us, heavy and unspoken, as we both stare up at the statue. The hero who once stood at the center of every battlefield, now immortalized in stone, larger than life yet somehow reduced to a figure of legend.

"What was he like?" the boy asks again, this time softer, as if sensing the weight of his question.

I let out a slow breath, watching it mist in the cold air. What was he like? The question spirals through my mind, touching memories I’ve tucked away: the searing heat of his hands on my body, the cocky grin, the way his eyes would soften just a fraction when no one was watching.

"He was…complicated," I begin, searching for the right words, but they all feel too small. "He was strong... stronger than anyone else, louder than everyone too." I smile at the thought. "Always charging forward, even when everyone else wanted to pull back. Bakugo was..."

Memories crash over me like a tidal wave. The late-night conversations, his loving insults, the fleeting moments where his guard would drop, those moments where he let me in. Katsuki was a storm that never settled, a star that burned too bright and too fast.

"He cared more than he let on," I say finally, feeling a tightness in my throat. "If you ask any of our classmates, they'd tell you he was the biggest... jerk." I stumble over my words in an attempt to keep my language age appropriate.

"He was mean, but some people don't how to show love the same way."

The boy frowns, processing every word. "Sounds like a jerk," he mutters, but there’s a hint of admiration in his voice.

I chuckle, unable to deny it. "He was. But he was also a hero. The kind you don’t forget."

We stand there, side by side, staring at the statue that casts a long shadow over us. The sun is starting to dip below the horizon, casting the monument in a golden glow, and for a moment, it feels like Katsuki is right there with us—imposing, fearless, and forever unyielding.

"Do you miss him?" the boy asks the question I’ve been dodging since the day I watched him fall from the sky.

I hesitate, my chest tightening as I fight back the flood of emotions. "Every day," I admit, the words barely a whisper. The boy meets my gaze, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—understanding, maybe.

Katsuki’s legacy isn’t just this statue or the stories etched into the walls of the center. It’s the way he pushed our class to be better, to never back down, to keep fighting even when it hurt. His fire still burns in every heart he touched, even now.

A high-pitched voice calls out from the hilltop, breaking the moment. The boy glances back, spotting an older sibling or a parent waving impatiently.

"He sounds like a hero I’d wanna be like," he blurts out before turning, his words tumbling out fast as if afraid to lose them.

I can’t help but smile, a genuine one that reaches deep. "He’d like that," I call out, my voice steadier than before. "And who knows? Maybe you’ll be even better."

The boy gives one last look at the statue, his eyes wide with determination, before dashing off, his blonde hair catching the sun’s fading light. I watch him go, and something in the way he moves—a flash of defiance, a spark of something unbreakable—reminds me so much of Katsuki that it makes my heart ache.

In reality, I’ll never truly know the depths of Katsuki’s feelings for me or the weight of what we shared. But his legacy lives on—through me, through this boy, and through every person who ever felt the heat of his fire. Because even in death, Katsuki Bakugo’s impact is unshakable, woven into every hero who dares to dream of being something more.

Because that’s the thing about heroes. They never really die.

[xhollowfaerie]

silverv drabbles #4

a/n: thank you so much for the love on my cyberpunk stuff!! i get so excited whenever someone interacts with it. oh, in case it wasn't noticeable, i've started titling each scene based on songs, like how they name quests after songs in-game (I've also just always loved to name chapters based on the songs I listen to when I write them)

ps Arthur is Arthur Jenkins, your corpo boss who my V was in a toxic relationship with for a while because I love pain and coping with my personal baggage through writing :p

warnings: violence, feels, probably really bad French (please feel free to correct it lol all the Spanish/French/Japanese in my writing is scraped together from distant memories, reddit threads and online translators)

- Enter Sandman. 

Sleep with one eye open,

Gripping your pillow tight

V stumbled out of the tub of ice, teeth chattering. Her heartbeat was quickly rising in pace, feeling the heat inside her veins burning through to the tips of her fingers. They itched as her wet lashes blinked frozen drops down her face, feeling the grinding of her teeth.

Johnny’s back was turned to her, musing over their encounter with Alt. But he could feel it gnawing inside her.

Their anger.

The merc was reeling with the boils of wrath all over her, his, their consciousness. She saw Jackie, Evelynn, Alt; all the people Johnny had fucked over, all the people she had fucked over. So many wraiths circled her mind; the jealousy, the venom with which she spat words towards both Alt and Johnny, laced with his unshakable desire for vengeance. 

Her fingers danced before she reached out towards Maman Brigitte to shake her hand; her mantis blade sprung out, painting the screens behind her in blood. Blocking bullets, leaping and slicing - just like she had when she dealt with Oda. Except this time, she found herself reaching for her pistol more; and as she reloaded, her fingers unconsciously twirled it by the trigger, face twisting with a grin. Muscle memory.

Exit light,

Enter night

She went through the Voodoo Boys hideout, wiping out every last one of them. Her mind was a whirlwind; thoughts buzzing, speeding so quickly out of control, in so many directions, she could feel her brain burning aflame inside her skull. But that’s when a corpo performs best. Under pressure.

Every time they hacked her, she returned it tenfold; watching their heads sizzle as she short-circed them; the cold in her limbs, the numbness, it contrasted so bizarrely with the aggressive heat inside her head. 

Maybe she would never be able to shake the Arasaka out of her system. Maybe she was too indoctrinated. Maybe she was too much of a natural.

She’d fucking murder every last one of them. They’d started this whole fucking shitshow- everything, every death, every thread that had tied her and Johnny together and got so many people killed - cost her everything, not once but fucking TWICE.

A corpo never fails a contract.

Tie up every loose end. No witnesses. Just a message.

They’d fucked her over. Agent V had long ago learned that if she let it slide, they’d do it again. And Valerie Lovett was just about fucking sick of people having the balls to try double-crossing her.

Take my hand,

Off to Never-Neverland

“Careful, V - Placide’s just up a-” “Don’t.”

Johnny turned to face her in surprise, furrowing his brows behind his sunglasses at the sudden order. He scowled in aggravation, but the look on V’s face left him cold.

That… wasn’t V. But he remembered her, from her memories. 

Agent V walked out, a trail of corpses in her wake.

“Placide! Mon frère.  Souviens-tu de ce ranyon? Là pour rendre la pareille, sale fils de pute.” (Placide! My brother. Remember this ranyon? I’m here for payback, you son of a bitch.)

Of course she spoke French. Fucking one percenters.

Defeating him had been too easy; it was almost as if he had given up before her blade even made the first cut.

She growled as she hovered over him, pulling her pistol out.

“This one’s for Jackie and Evelyn, you piece of shit.”

- Dissolve.

Valerie collapsed the moment she exited the church, hands shaking. Her eyes widened, watching the metallic left arm tremble in front of her as if it were her own.

“Fuck.” Their voices overlapped.

She trembled in fear, feeling the familiar burn of tears in her eyes. She didn’t know what to do. Her first thought was-

“Johnny.”

Her heart felt like it was being squeezed into a pulp inside her chest, heaving desperately. Her body fell flat against the floor, writhing in pain. “-I’m, dyin’-!”

He grabbed her wrist. She couldn’t search his eyes beneath the sunglasses. The hold on her heart squeezed tighter as she replayed the image of Alt taking his glasses off in her head. For a moment, she pretended it had been her.

“U-rgh, J-Johnny!”

Fuck. Was this how she was going to go out? Crying out his name? She let her head collapse against the floor as tears streamed down her face, reaching out for a man that wasn’t there. 

She had nobody. And as much as she wanted to imagine Jackie in Johnny’s stead, the rockerboy remained glued to her retinas, stretching his arms out to hold onto her. Strange. So strange, how she felt the cold of his metal limb sizzle on her feverish skin.

“You ain’t dyin’ yet.”

The look on her face must’ve been pathetic; no, Johnny thought, you're not, and somehow, his confidence that she’ll be alright soothed the terror sprawling out of her as her eyes closed, feeling him lift her in his arms. The words left his mouth on instinct before he could even process them.

“I got you.”

-

V felt the bile rise from her throat as she woke up, the faintest hint of a salty breeze filling her lungs before she spilled the contents of her stomach onto the tiles. The seemingly pleasant scent disappeared entirely, replaced by the more familiar stench of the irreparably-polluted Pacific and her own vomit. She rolled over, looking up at the bottle of pills in her hand. He spoke first.

“That smell’s the sea breeze.”

A memory, she realized. She actually smelled the real sea for a second, or, at least, how Johnny remembered it. The mere sight of him leaning over the railing relaxed her entire body back against the wall, letting out a soft sigh.

“...Johnny!”

A conclusion. Relief. Thank God, or, whoever, whatever the fuck. No… If the sand was starting to run out of her hourglass, she wanted to start saying things. Things she was so afraid to say before. Her voice was coarse, but so much gentler than he was used to. A gentleness he had witnessed seldomly, mostly in her memories.

“Thanks.”

Proud of you, chica. Livin’ well, eh? 

A small smile coated her lips, engraving the scent of Johnny’s ocean into her own mind - or encouraging theirs to intertwine. 

“Don’t mention it. Get up. Pacific’s beautiful this time of day.”

She crawled over to the railing and used it for support, straightening up to her feet. His voice sounded distant, almost dreamy. She couldn’t tell if she was still woozy from the fight, his memories, Alt, the Relic killing her, or her deepest, most hidden desires surfacing against her will, enveloping her mind in a drunken stupor.

“Almost flatlined by that attack…”

Johnny didn’t glance at her. He looked out towards the sea, and she saw small glimmers of cobalt, felt the soft warmth of the sun on her skin before the gray tones of current reality set back in.

“Almost.”

She smiled again, leaning forward to rest atop the half-wall, propping her head against her shoulder and marveling at the view before stealing a quick look at him.

For a second, he looked younger, like he had in 2013. She saw Alt kissing him; wondered how it had felt like to be on the receiving end.

“You’re right” she breathed, shamelessly losing herself in staring at the profile of his face, trailing over his lips.

“Hard to take my eyes off it.”

He filled her in on the location, but her curiosity was eating away at her. She couldn’t help asking about the pills, which prompted a surprisingly offended response.

“Got this strange impression your comatose self wanted to get rid of me. Actually put up a good fight.”

She didn’t remember. But, somehow, he did. When he tried to pick her up, she kicked and screamed against him. The attack had been her. Lashing out.

“GET OFF! DON’T TOUCH ME, ASSHOLE!”

“V, fuck’s gotten into you?! Let me help-”

“Like you helped Alt?! Rogue? What am I, the next little fuck and run on your list? Gonna pump and dump me too? I've played this song and dance before, Johnny. I can't- not again!”

She had been furious with him before, but the shared feeling inside them was unlike anything else. Hatred, which wasn’t new either - except for the fact that now, their psyches were becoming so linked together, he hypothesized that this manifestation of her outburst towards him was his own self-hatred lashing out in the way that would hurt him the most. In her image. 

She scratched gashes into his arms with her nails, bit hard into his ‘ganic hand; hissed and shrieked at him. The betrayal in her eyes left him dumbfounded. She couldn’t have possibly been this furious just from witnessing him being an asshole to his ex? It almost sounded like she was projecting her own shitty ex on him, too. Maybe they both were.

Something stuck with him. The way she spoke within the cyberspace… the way she mentioned Alt. He couldn’t tell what the fuck she was so mad about. Was he a piece of shit? Sure, everyone knew that. But she was almost as catty with Alt as she was sympathetic, uniting against him, and it gave him a headache. As much as he considered himself a connoisseur of the feminine, he was in way over his head. He’d never realize just how clueless he could be, something pointed out by every woman he had been with. Crying, usually. Before or after slapping him.

He wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

- Three Nights.

They were slowly approaching his old room; he glitched in and out, his image and voice buzzing with static as he waited at the end of the balcony. 

V collapsed again. When she blinked, he appeared in front of her, kneeling; she almost made out the painting of concern across his features, right as he glitched away again, characteristically crossing his arms in front of himself and waiting for her to move.

Her heart filled to the brim when she pulled the dog tags out, gripping them in disbelief. He wondered what it was that made her heart beat so fast when she looked back at him, draped dramatically over the back of the chair.

Johnny was starting to worry that maybe she was finally losing it. The expression she regarded him with was driving him insane. What was that? Just gratitude? Obviously, she was still out of it, because the way she laughed and her lashes fluttered at him with a genuine smile as she sat on the kitchen floor, that floor he had passed out so numbly on so many times, made his stomach flip in the weirdest way. Maybe he just needed to disillusion himself. Remind himself what this really was. A hostage situation. Which way, neither of them could fuckin’ tell.

“Would you take a bullet for me?”

Why did she laugh like that? So… sweetly? Fuck, she was so fucking frustrating. 

“Dumbass question...”

“Answer it-”

“I would, yeah.”

Not even a heartbeat’s worth of thinking it through, though her voice trembled. With what, he couldn’t tell - or that’s what he chose to lie to himself.

He looked away when he pushed his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. What the fuck was up with him? What was that high?

Reliving his memories with Alt, he thought. Had to be. That familiar feeling he remembered so strongly. Freedom, albeit brief. Passion, thirst… For, for…

Oh, how he had loved holding her hand. Not that he'd ever admit it. He never did. No matter how rough the sex; he was always the one to reach his hand out first, but hers always met his, every time. He missed their weight on his digits. 

His fingers balled into a fist.

Too bad he fucked it up. There was no such thing as fairytale endings; certainly not for a cosmically fucked ex-corpo merc with more trauma than high heels and the cyberpsycho rockerboy terrorist in her head. They were probably the only ones whose baggage could rival each other's, in a horrendously messed up, ironic way.

So whatever the fuck this is you think you're feelin’, Johnny, quit it, his subconscious snarled.

Their brief discussion of Johnny’s past seemed to untangle the tension between them; she made herself comfortable in his old hideout, feeling the intensity of the previous sensations dissipating as she listened to his voice. Despite his protests, she still collapsed onto one of the filthy mattresses, looking up at the spinning fan with a loose grin, closing her eyes and looking out the window to the sky. He almost found it funny; a prim and proper corpo lady, half a century later, laying in his old bed, wearing a ragged Burn Corpo Shit tee (thank fuck she stopped ‘ironically’ wearing that fucking Samurai tshirt in public, that shit was so ridiculous) and worn leather pants. That was an image he wouldn’t be able to get out of his head. For a multitude of reasons.

“Just five minutes, Mister Silverhand…”

He groaned in disgust at the address, shaking his head.

“You’re fuckin’ hopeless! Just don’t rot away in here. Or do. Maybe I don’t give a shit, after all.”

V giggled, drifting off to sleep. Her honeyed voice echoed Alt’s. “You’re a terrible liar, Johnny Silverhand.”

Three nights, at the motel, 

Under streetlights, in the City of Palms

Call me what you want, when you want, if you want

And you can call me names if you call me up

She wondered if he could see her dreams as she pictured the two of them at the beach, hitting each-other with beach balls, splashing salty seawater into each-other’s eyes, squealing when he’d lift her up from beneath the waves, smearing sunscreen on each-other’s faces.

Johnny sat on the edge of the mattress by her side, wide-eyed. He didn’t process the damp trails on his face, too focused on the hesitance in his hand as he dared to reach out and push a pink strand of hair out of her eyes. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

His mechanical fingers cupped her face for way too short a moment before pulling back as if she was molten iron, burying his face in his hands.

He didn’t deserve any of her heart. He didn’t deserve a single part of her, and here he was, taking over her entirety. Killing her, excruciatingly. Too quickly to ever say everything he should have, but not fast enough to spare her the pain. Wiping out her consciousness. Replacing her.

That wasn’t a fucking dream. That was an old-ass memory, corroding as their minds blended together. He couldn’t remember who the girl was anymore. One of many. He must’ve still been in highschool. Or was it college? 

Now, that girl was V.

But it couldn’t be. Not after her.

Johnny exhaled a shaky breath into his hands. He couldn’t even fathom the pain of losing Valerie, too.

I get my feelings involved, she stopped returning my calls

Her flaws turned into walls and barricades

And I’m too far gone in all the wrong ways,

And now every long day is a bad one

I can’t make you call or make you stay or take you off the pedestal

-

“Feelin’ better” V groaned as she woke up from her nap. She was surprised to see Johnny looking down at her from the window. Distracted, or, like he was burying something deep.

“Still feel a sharp somethin’ near your heart” he commented.

Valerie felt its uncomfortable jab as she bit down into her tongue. 

That somethin’ had so many names, she’d lost count. Her family. Arthur. Jackie. Alt.

She moved closer and inched a hand towards his sunglasses. Johnny blinked in surprise, but the realization left him just as soon as it had hit, actively shrouded by V’s consciousness as her arm dropped back at her side and she lowered her gaze to lace her high heeled boots back up. Her voice shrunk, hazed with an old sentiment of bitterness. His eyes caught onto her bullet necklace, despite having seen it every second of every day since waking up in her head. Now, it almost stung.

“Doubt that’s ever goin’ away.”

[insertdisc5]

Devlog #14: Big News Incoming and Illustrations

Hello everyone! Welcome to this month’s devlog!

If you just stumbled upon this, I am Adrienne, also known as insertdisc5! I’m the developer, writer, artist, main programmer, etc of the game. The game being In Stars and Time, a timeloop RPG, which is also the next and final game in the START AGAIN series, following START AGAIN: a prologue (available here!).  You can find out more about In Stars and Time here!!! 

LET’S GET TO IT. This month has some Big News about Big News Incoming! And also some illustrations!

The Big News Incoming first: In Stars and Time will be a part of Future of Play Direct on June 10, 8:00am PT | 11:00am ET | 5:00 pm CET! Future of Play is part of the Summer Games Fest and showcases a lot of incredible indie games, so I hope you’ll tune in. There might be a little something for you to see :> And...

In Stars and Time will also be a part of The Mix on June 8th! The Mix is an amazing games showcase over in LA. There will be a lot of press there, so I’m very excited to get some eyes on ISAT! Please stop by the booth and say hi to the lovely people from my publisher, Armor Games Studios, if you get the chance!

Alright! That’s it for the big news. Now for other big news.

Porting the game to Switch seems to be close to done! Currently, the porting team is taking care of optimization thingy things. The game is playable, but tends to drop frames every so often, so the team is optimizing the game to make sure it’s playing smoothly so Switch players can have the best possible experience! And…

The (hopefully) final round of Japanese localization is underway! Last April, the localization team sent back a couple of sentences that should be reworded now that they have further context. Now that those changes are implemented, they are playing it one more time to make sure everything works as intended!

I sadly don’t have a Fun Gamedev Thing to talk about this month (or… last month either…) because I moved elsewhere back in April and have been taking care of many things so my move went smoothly. Did you know that moving and getting used to a new town is hard work? So, here’s some things I posted on social media in the last couple months!

Here’s an illustration I drew a while back but only posted recently! I imagine that during their journey, everyone must’ve shared a bed at least once. This is also an occasion to show everyone’s sleepytimes clothes. Siffrin on that honk shoo honk shoo fit

Like many people, I have seen the Barbie movie trailer. So of course I had to redraw these iconic frames.

And someone over on Tumblr asked me about how I picked everyone’s names! Here it is copy-pasted for your convenience.

Siffrin: i think. i will wait until the game comes out before saying how i picked their name. ask me again later (it’s not a spoiler its just silly)

Mirabelle: her name was actually Prunille for the longest time, but I kept mixing it up and calling her Bonnie… so I went looking for another fruit sounding name (prunille>prune>plum in french) and Mirabelle fit her perfectly :> (Mirabelle is a kind of plum!)

Isabeau: it’s just a nice name. It actually is a girl name but i refuse to accept it because “beau” is the masculine form for “beautiful”, but either way it fits his character pretty well…

Odile: old sounding french name. that’s it. when i was early in preproduction her name was Isabeau actually (and she had a WAY different personality)

Bonnie: it’s a nickname and not their full name. have i said their full name yet? (checks the wiki) i did. Boniface is just a name that I had never heard before, and I could easily imagine Bonnie not liking it because it sounds “old and lame”. i think as they get older they would like it more and more

This is also a reminder that In Stars and Time has a wiki page. I am so grateful that this is a thing someone made. You know you've made it when your game has a wiki page!!!

That’s all I have to say for today! Let me know if you have any questions, or if there’s any aspect of the game development struggle you’d like me to talk about! See you next time!!!

AND DON’T FORGET TO WISHLIST THE GAME ON STEAM ALSO IT REALLY HELPS BECAUSE STEAM’S ALGORITHM IS MORE LIKELY TO SHOW OFF GAMES WITH A HIGH AMOUNT OF WISHLISTS THAT’S THE REASON WHY GAME DEVS ALWAYS ASK TO WISHLIST!!! OKAY BYE!!!!

[aj1dordinary]

chat is this real???

platonic!Johnny Cage x platonic!gen-z!reader

lowkey crack???

im crossed asf and while viewing a MK1 tiktok w/ Johnny and ‘International Love’, couldn’t help but think of how cool it would be to be Johnny Cage’s assistant… like he has the same energy as a Gen Z-er. We’d be besties fr.

just so u know, im black and fem so !reader is gonna be interpreted as black and fem xox

“johnny baby~” you trilled as you step out of the Uber to meet him at his house. as his social media manager, it was your job to record all the content across all social media platforms. with his new movie coming out paying homage to the ‘Indiana Jones’ franchice, you thought it would be good for promo if you recorded you both doing a trendy Tiktok dance.

fans of Johnny Cage knew you nearly as a duo. when people conduct interviews on a set or on the red carpet, people could always count on you ready to capture that night’s funniest quote or moment that would circulate like crazy. you’d also frequently appear in them, physically forcing johnny to keep up with the latests trends as a nearing 40 year old man. The comments would always be filled with remarks like “i fear for your well-being if you EVER get rid of y/n” or “y/n’s mind neverrr misses”. safe to say, your career is secured.

you nearly skip to his door when you notice the door was wide open, obvious signs of a break-in occurring. “oh my god,” you inhaled deeply, the tone coming from a mix of your head and your belly. “mr. cage!” you then screech, you hide in the nearest shrubs while fishing through your purse to find your phone then your taser. when the two items occupy your grasp, you look up to sky, take a deep breath, then let out a war screech. simultaneously, you start the instagram live while holding down the button of your taser, the electric crackles breaking up the audio of you screaming. 

you run in through his foyer before stumbling upon a scene between some japanese guy strapped to a chair, a man with glowing fucking eyes, and two hot guys. ok, maybe one hot guy, the other guy had literal frost coming from his hand… still hot tho.

“Oh damn y’all.. i just caught the behind-the scenes of johnny’s gay porn. my fault og’s.” you said before abruptly ending the livestream.

you barging in phone-first with the need to catch johnny cage’s demise on camera being the first thing you think of before your wellbeing (the taser) had johnny chuckling a bit. if anything, had it actually been his demise, at least you would’ve got his good side. he liked that you were committed to the job as he was committed to cinema. suddenly, a lightbulb idea hit him. 

“oh~” he chuckled. “i hope you don’t mind if i bring my assistant.” he patted the shoulder of the glowing-eye man, before tipping his sunglasses at you . “I’m afraid i won’t be at my 100% otherwise.”

“nuh-uh” you raise your eyebrows, appalled that he was gonna offer your service on behalf.

“uhhh yuh-huh.” johnny mocked you now turning toward you. the party that you’ve yet to address just look between the two of you riff off one another. johnny (supposedly one of Earthrealm’s defenders) and a young women (maybe the source of his strength/energy)? the two hot ones look at each other through a side eye before shrugging.

“nuh-uh johnny, that wasn’t in the contract. i told you that if you had any body other than me as your assistant right now, you would’ve been got your ass lit up in fucking court. i cant stand your ass sometimes, y’know?” johnny speed walked (sped walk?) over to you as you kept going off on his ass, before grabbing your elbow and dragging you to some corner.

“y/n~” he whined almost on the verge of throwing a tantrum. Meanwhile, you stand firm, tapping your feet as though you were impatient. “you’re embarrassing me in front of a literal god right now. and i mean LITERALLY god.” you scrunched your face up and roll your eyes. “no, believe me I thought the same thing at first, but he literally shoots fireballs out his hand and summons dragons. other two remind me of that show you watch, y’know the intro that goes ‘then everything changed when the fire nation attacked’” he nearly pouted, trying to think of a way to get you to believe him.

You raise an eyebrow, rolling your eyes at the near puppy-dog eyes johnny gives you through the dark lens of his shades, his lips nearly quivering. 

“oklahoma?” you state, both of you binging had been binging ‘Ted Lasso” and thought it’d be funny (for yourselves and his audience) to start implementing it.

“oklahoma.” he returns with bated breath.

You try to see if you can gauge any other emotion before sighing and withdrawing your tense stance.

“i need you to record everything we encounter in this “Outerrealm”. for when i’m busy improvisin’ and kickin’ ass. all of it.” He paced both hands on your shoulder.

“24/7?” you question.

“yes.”

“sounds like an unpaid business trip. what’s in it for me?” You respond almost before he could finish the word. 

“$1 million pension and I’ll let you have 50% of the rights on the new movie i make about this shit.” He responded just as fast.

“done. nice doing business with you old man.” you shake his hand.

almost as quickly as he pulled you away, you fix your appearance before heading back out to the living room to address the crowd of supernatural men.

“alright boys. you heard him, the name’s y/n and i need to be with johnny 24/7. if i can’t go, he can’t go. We have a very tight schedule to run and demands must be met before we let you squeeze in your alleged plans to save the world.” you cross your arms in front of you and look up at the three sweaty and built (damn. damn. damn. d-) men.

“my name is lui kang, champion and protector of Earthrealm. as much as i'd hate to have a civilian on the front line, i anticipate that your liveliness is secure. regardless, if that would make johnny more than comfortable, then i gladly accept your presence.” the  supposed god said. 

“glad we could make this work” you stuck out your hand to shake all three. the god returned the gesture - his hands warm and rough. you offer the gesture to the rest of the entourage, the man permeating the frost didn’t dare look at your outstretched hand, refusing to return the gesture. but he spoke a rough “bi han” that you took as his name. the other grasped your hand and shook it, more amused at your obvious lack of knowledge of who you were dealing with. he was broken out of his thoughts when you look at your hand in near amazement. “kuai liang” he spoke.

“sir, i think you’ve just cured my anemia” your eyes widen in admiration. johnny just rolled his eyes as he cut what you assumed to be the intruder out of the chair. you address him next.

“and sorry for johnny’s affinity for ropes, he’s got a thing for BDSM.” 

“do not..” he mumbles, you throw him a knowing glance.

“kenshi” he merely grunted, wiping broken glass off his suit.

“well,” you start. “looks like shit in here, but i’m sure we can write it off somewhere. what’s next on the schedule kangaroo?”

lui kang looks a bit taken aback at the nickname you chose for him, but he clears his throat to recalibrate.

“we must travel to wu shi academy to prepare for a tournament where Earthrealm’s fate lies in the hands of warriors i have hand picked.”

“and this guy is one of them?” you interrupt. the guy deemed kenshi chuckled.

lui kang smiled and nodded his head.

“well,” you check your watch. “let’s get on with it. we have a tiktok due at 7 PM and a set to be on within a week.” 

lui kang turns and begins swirling his hands before a literal portal appears in johnny’s living room.

“holy-“ you start already pulling your phone out to record like johnny requested. he nudged your side as to say ‘i told you so’.

so thus, your journey begins as johnny’s personal cheerleader and assistant as he sets off to kick some serious ass and not care about the names.

-end-

!please!let!me!know!what1you!think! i feel like a suck at writing, but i do maladaptive daydream a lot so i have plenty more ideas i’d like to write about. otherwise, xoxo go piss girl

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Alright hi sorry I'm feeling emotional today and I have to talk about my absolute favorite song for kraken era Ed ever

So it's this song used in Shin Godzilla (I know that's not where you were expecting me to go, be patient, just let me cook okay). Shin Godzilla, to give you context, is a 2016 Godzilla movie and its basic premise acts as a critique of Japanese governmental bureaucracy and inefficient response to imminent threats (it's usually considered a response to the Fukushima disaster). The Godzilla in this film's gimmick is it evolves rapidly in response to its situation, especially as it's threatened by the people trying to stop it. It starts out a silly little fish guy and by the end it's huge and shooting atomic beams out of its back and bleeding all over the place (yeah, it's like SUPER sad).

So this Godzilla is always responding to threats, like it only shoots atomic beams out of its back because it had bombs dropped on it, and it's in horrible pain basically the entire time.You can probably see where I'm going here

And the song I'm talking about is "Who Will Know (Tragedy)," and it's a song from Godzilla's perspective with two overlapping voices. One voice is just this overwhelming sadness about what's happening to it (the title comes from a line about how no one will ever know it as anything other than this rampaging monster), and the second voice is this desperate cry for basic self-preservation.

Yeah. Yeah. Literally if I hadn't seen this movie and someone told me this song was written specifically for Kraken era Ed I would not bat a fucking eye.

And because this is already long enough, I'm putting me screaming about all the lyrics under the cut.

Voice 1 in italics and voice 2 in bold!

If I die in this world

But I must carry on

Who will know something of me?

Nothing worse can befall

I am lost, no one knows

All my fears, all my tears

There's no trace of my yearning

Tell my heart there's a hole

I wear a void

As long as breath comes from my mouth

Not even hope

I may yet stand the slightest chance

A downward slope

A shaft of light is all I need

Is all I see

To cease the darkness killing me

Like???? It's just so easy to apply this to Ed holy shit. The fear that if he dies now, no one will remember Ed as he really was? Feeling that he's so lost and no one knows anything of his love? Wearing a void, like dressing himself up in that big black duster version of his outfit and putting on black makeup? And then the second voice, feeling like he has to keep stumbling forward because at least nothing worse can happen to him, just longing for a single shaft of light (holy shit??) to help him pull through?

[seventeenlovesthree]

Loved your thoughts on the new digimon adventure pv and Yamatos concept art. I also thought he may have returned to his passion, music, thus the long hair like he had at his "prime" as a musician. But do you have a thought why Taichi looks so angry? Dont get me wrong he looks stunning in this art style (also love how Yamato wears a turtleneck and Taichi presents us his collarbones xD) but in the last picture he looks quite angry. Of course it could be more determined Taichi face? Idk, my first reaction was uh oh why is my boy angry, what did Toei do to him now :(

The fun part about this Yamato being Kakudou's "vision" of him is even better if you think about how Yamato becoming an astronaut was out of pure necessity - and not planned by Yamato in the slightest. Kakudou had posted that part of the lore earlier this year, so the staff of Tri/Kizuna may not even have been aware of it when they made him contemplate "going to space" or walking by a spaceship (or having Takeru comment on it in one of the 02TB dramas). Basically, Kakudou's Yamato would probably have continued going down the rockstar route until him getting into space became necessary...

I stumbled over a wonderful series of Japanese analysis videos today covering a BUNCH of really interesting topics, including the epilogue and Yamato's reasoning behind becoming an astronaut, so I'm highly recommending watching these with auto translation on!

(Other notable topics contain "the top 5 character combinations that get along best", a shipping analysis, the number of times the characters almost died or how much time passes during Adventure - which are all relevant to my personal interest and I am sharing a lot of these views, so this is a great reference guide for me!)

As for Taichi... There are three possible answers I could come up with here:

This is just concept art; Kizuna had plenty of concept art featuring expressions that NEVER even appeared in Kizuna, which is still an absolute SHAME.

Kakudou actually includes the events of Tri/Kizuna/The Beginning in his PV, meaning that this will probably be about Taichi and Yamato being thrown into a critical situation that requires them to fight again (and getting their partners back in the process).

Kakudou is cooking up something entirely new in his personal timeline, which ignores the events of Tri/Kizuna/The Beginning; in a scenario in which Taichi never lost Agumon, it is described in Kakudou's notes that there were a lot of critical aspects until they could all get to their happy end during the epilogue (which is also super nicely outlined in the video above! For example, people using Digimon for war/other evil purposes as the number of people with Digimon increases steadily, thus disrupting the peace that ambassador!Taichi is trying to maintain). So again, Taichi may be required to fight and get super serious...

Here I have the info from a screenshot I took from With The Will back when the lore dropped, so this may explain a little why Taichi fighting might be necessary (ignore to part that is coloured, I just found it funny that Yamato is really getting into space after all).

[bucketspammer4life]

☆ WVBA At A Party ☆

So uhh tw for alcohol mention,emetophobia other than that its ok

Glass Joe

- doing his best not to get thrown into a dance circle

- anxious as fuck

- piston hondo (drunk as shit) keep trying to explain star wars lore to him

- hes just nodding and pretending to understand, he cant because hes speaking in japanese

- had some drinks & passed out because he doesnt take alcohol well

- woke up on the roof because some drunk bastard decided to put him onto there, theres now a investigation about trying to find who put Joe on the roof

- will hold your drink for you

- keeps getting dragged into doing dumb shit by aran ryan

Von Kaiser

- buzzed, looks like hes on the verge of death

- at the karaoke bar, killing it, yess grandpa slayyyy one foot in the grave one foot in the rave

- keeps chugging like hell, look at him go

- teaching some random people how to do traditional german dances

- randomly starts sobbing

- bear hugger has to stop him from chugging another bottle of whiskey

Disco Kid

- thrown into the dance circle, killing it

- spamming everyones phones with really positive texts

- "YUO AR TAKENTED SNF CAN DK SNYTHING YKU PUT YOU4 NINF UBTO" (You are really talented and can do anything you put your mind into)

-"thank you : )"

- "YOU SRE LIVEF ANR 4SKEBT2D,,,,ÖOCE YOURDRKF" (You are loved, love yourself)

- wasted

- giving out free hugs

- had a really good dance off with aran ryan

- fell down a flight of stairs and got up like it was nothing

- dancing the pain away

Piston Hondo

- avoiding the dance circle like its a death sentence

- explaining the star wars lore to glass joe in japanese

- will hate himself in the morning

- speaking really broken japanglish with bear hugger

- keeps lifting up von kaiser & running away as he holds him

- partying hard

- randomly starts speaking about stuff, you could be talking about how you ran over a man and his son just yesterday and he'll be like "Do you like sailor moon"

- tried to eat a glass of water, sad because he got stopped

- randomly got stuck in a british accent

King Hippo

- passed out on the floor

- someone help him please

- people keep trying to use him as a trampoline

- randomly gets up and starts to talk about sea slugs

- he just leaves after that,he is done

Great Tiger

- only sober person here

- has to stop piston hondo from explaining the star wars lore to random people

- making sure everyone is hydrated

- victim of disco kids positive texts

- gathers drunk passed out people and puts them somewhere safe so nobody gets hurt

- oh my god he is on the verge of tears from all this stress he needs help

- ended up sobbing into disco kids arms after it all got too stressful

- he could really use a break

- will hold your drink,may switch it out with water if he decides youve had enough for tonight

Don Flamenco

- too distracted too go to the dance circle

- keeps singing & referencing dumb stuff while anyone talks to him, he just has 0 thoughts right now

- "i feel like im never gonna amount to anything in my life, it just feels like im destined to end up dying alone-"

- "FIESTA SALSA QUİNCEAÑERA-"

- "why do i even bother"

- drinking cocktails like someones gonna take it away from him if he doesnt inhale it within 10 seconds

- keeps trying to call carmen

- stumbling like hell

- someone needs to tape his mouth shut

- asking the dumbest shit ever to carmen as he texts her

- "would you still love me if i was a muppet,,"

- "would you still be able to control yourself or would you need to be used like a actual muppet??"

- "i dont knwo im durnk"

Bear Hugger

- will not go into the dance circle, ever

- singing sea shanties & suddenly has the personality of a ye olden sailor

- someone convinced him to wax his legs

- confused as shit when he wakes up in the morning

- listening to hondo infodump about sailor moon, intrigued

- will laugh at anything, laughed at Macho mans left eyebrow for a solid 40 minutes

- passed out for a hour after that

- brought a random frog from the nearest pond & named it Buddy, buddy was never seen again after someone threw him out of a window

- ate candle wax, he just did, he somehow stomached it

- sober yet wasted, tapdancing on that line between mentally not present & aware

Aran Ryan

- drunk but has a camera, recording whatever happens

- "guys... this little pocket sized eejit is stuck on the roof... what the fuck.. get him off of there"

- will do anything you dare him to do, got dared to throw someones TV out of the window, the rest is history

- eated a bees

- chased piston hondo with a chair, you havent known true fear until a irishman with a camera & chair is chasing you while yelling like a psychopath while youre talking about star wars lore

- called glass joe "Glasses Jonathan"

- mourned the loss of buddy with bear hugger

- on his hater routine, texting back discos positive messages with mean messages

Soda Popinski

- sober, enjoying the show

- in the dance circle, busting it down

- dehydrated because theres no soda :(

- trying to convince aran ryan to eat a pair of headphones

- gives out water to anyone who appears drunk & asks for a drink telling them its "strong stuff" Just to see them smile & hydrate themselves

- enjoying the karaoke

- also mourning the loss of buddy, thought he was really cool

Bald Bull

- scared of the dance circle

- drunk but his social anxiety is still acting up

- mom i threw up pose when he zones out & stares into the void

- standing in the corner or clinging onto don flamenco because he cant manage crowds well

- getting second hand embarrasment from don flamencos singing

- people keep using the top of his head as a mirror

- clinging onto the nearest extroverts he knows well

- "what if everyone thinks i look like a complete idiot standing in the corner"

- Just really anxious & stressed, he doesnt manage social events well

- needs some silence

Super Macho Man

- thinks hes a good dancer, looks like hes having a stroke, dancing is not for him, especially drunk dancing

- people keep calling him grandpa

- sobbing over any minor event that effects him even slightly negatively

- sobbed over the loss of buddy

- crying over everything

- sobbing on the bathroom floor because he threw up so hard he felt like his soul left him

- hes literally just crying

- tried to do karaoke through his tears, couldnt sing the tears away

Mr Sandman

- pushed into the dance circle, accidentally made a conga line, who knew a conga line full of drunk men could be so fun?

- watching aran ryan eat weird shit & cheering him on because he thinks its funny

- bald bull tried to make a "man me a sand" joke to him, ended up looking like he was having a seizure

- "Mr sandman.. Sand.. The man?.. Sand man.. Uhhh, man him a sand-"

- "bull please lay down"

- enjoying bear huggers sea shanties

- trying to get glass joe off the roof

- fell asleep using a freezer as a pillow

Extra

- narcis showed up to tell everyone that theyre losers & left

- doc louis left early with mac as soon as the alcohol drinking started

[waitmyturtles]

SUNDAY SHOW ROUND-UP!

Goddamn -- there are so many shows! The holiday season and many life obligations are preventing me from writing meta about most of these shows except for the big priorities (my Old GMMTV Challenge project and Last Twilight). So here's a quick round-up of what I'm thinking, feeling, etc., about the dramas I have going on.

1) CHERRY MAGIC THAILAND IS DELIGHTFUL AND FULFILLING TO MY SOUL AND LIFE

I've mentioned before! I'm a HUUUUUGE Cherry Magic Japan girlie. I am a major defender of the movie, AMA. When I joined Tumblr last year, besides Old Fashion Cupcake, Cherry Magic was....I think it was the first gigantic rabbithole I fell in. I love, unabashedly, everything about this franchise, and I think TayNew are carrying it splendidly so far. (Also, the original mangaka of the whole Cherry Magic franchise, Toyota Yuu, is 100% on board with the adaptation and is regularly tweeting about it, and just! COULD THAT BE MORE CUTE AND REASSURING FOR US CM GIRLIES, NO I DON'T THINK SO, BIG HAPPY SIGHS.)

So the original manga exists in the Cherry Magic Thailand universe, huh? I'm gonna admit my unreasonable optimism to say that I am not-so-secretly hoping for a Machida Keita/Akaso Eiji/Kurosawa/Adachi cameo -- but the manga existing in this universe jags that up a bit.

BUT! Toyokawa still exists in the universe... so does that mean that Kurosawa/Adachi do, too? I'M NOT GOING THERE, BUT I AM.

ANYWAY! I noted last month that I really appreciated seeing a lot of Japan in the Cherry Magic trailer -- "Karan-san," Karan speaking Japanese, "san juu," the fact that Toyokawa is still the company that all these guys are working for. But I also love the very overt Thai visuals -- the Buddha in Achi's apartment foreground, the offering to the monk (which replaces the onigiri guy in Cherry Magic Japan, lmao) -- I'm just, covering my mouth in happiness at noting that these details are very well-placed, and very intentional.

That's it, I enjoyed every last second of this first episode in total joy of seeing this Thai remix. With X Nuttapong behind this show -- yes, oh yes, I loved seeing literally the phrase "theory of love" in the subtitles, and good on him for going there a bit.

2) An Old GMMTV Challenge update! So, I interrupted the OGMMTVC to catch up with La Pluie, because I know LP will be on a lot of best-of-2023 lists later this month.

By episode 4 or so, I knew La Pluie had to, HAD TO, go on the OGMMTVC syllabus, so on it went. And I'm going to pause on writing about it out of chronology. I'm watching Secret Crush on You (2022) now, I'll do my watchlist thing, and I'll rewatch LP.

La Pluie was a motherfucking important show.

The subversion of the romance genre in Thai BL. I mean. Give me a mallet to crack the gigantic egg on that on. @lurkingshan's La Pluie meta round-up post has been a walking stick for me as I've stumbled to get my thoughts together around this show, and honestly, I'm not ready to write about it yet. I need to finish 2022's shows on the watchlist and get through some important 2023 rewatches to fully write about La Pluie in its context, and to understand how such an important show came about this year by way of the straightforward honesty it took in dismantling and rebuilding some very key expectations that we may have carried about romance in Thai BL before its airing.

If you haven't watched La Pluie yet, do it before this year is over. DO IT. IT'S INCREDIBLE AND SO MUCH.

3) Playboyy, episode 4: I have a lot of thoughts, and no time to write about this show, but episode 4 was really different than the first three. It was CAMPY AF, way melodramatic (wtf Zooey/Soong), but it also had many more nuggets of a plot than I had expected to see by way of Nont finally revealing himself to WAY more people than I had expected. I'm sticking with it with the expectation that Cheewin will know how to get himself out of this mess, BUT, one huge criticism -- the intimacy is getting harder to watch, because it's being lazily acted and filmed (..... you had y'alls' shorts on, Prom/Nont, ahem), and it's just a lot, and can we just, like, get more to the story, I'm gonna put that in the show's request box.

Clown theory: I think Prom knows more than he's letting on and is using Nont in some bad ways to get back at those other dudes for leaving Playboyy. But I'm trying to not get invested-invested because a) still sooooo many names to remember, GOD, and b) soooo many shows airing, my brain can't take it.

4) The Sign: I'm putting this guy on pause. I heard yesterday's episode was 90 minutes, and I can't commit to a weekend show that needs that kind of time commitment. I'm following y'all in the gifs. This is no knock on BillyBabe. I REALLY LIKE THEM TOGETHER. GO SAINT, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU. But I'll watch this when there's a lull in the midseasons.

5) What Did You Eat Yesterday?: WDYEY and Last Twilight are the best shows airing right now. When a show is so good, it doesn't need meta? That's WDYEY. Nishijima’s quiet “hai” to start the conversation with Kenji’s mom? Some of the best acting in all of BL.

The amazing @isaksbestpillow threw down some clutch background about this past Friday's episode that's WELL worth reading, about chosen family and what Kenji's family was offering to Shiro. Gorgeous, screaming, crying, etc.

That's all I got, happy Sunday, y'all! The OGMMTVC will come back with SCOY when I wrap it up, hopefully soon!