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pinkboaclub · 3 months ago

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Cowgirl

[READ PART ONE HERE! Scene Stealers blurb]

Summery: You and Harry are in university and are amateur (yet, famous) porn stars. Your friend invites you to a costume party, but you both can’t wait to get back to your dorm.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: literally just smut, frat Harry, mention of alcohol consumption, fem!reader, this is from your POV so the girl in the photos doesn’t have to look like you !! just a reference for your outfit :), still set in a US university, though Harry is British.

An intense scent wave of alcohol hit you and Harry as you entered the house party. You made your way through the hands holding Red Solo Cups before finding your way to their drinks. Your friends were throwing a costume party, and though he was reluctant to dress up, Harry wore a dark burgundy plaid shirt to match your cowgirl dress.

“Are you drinking a lot tonight?” Harry asked you, as you looked at your collection.

“No, I think I’ll only have a little something. Are you?”

“I think I’ll only have a little too…I was hoping to get a little lucky tonight.” He wrapped an arm around your lower waist, cheekily pulling you into him and giving you a kiss on your neck.

“Oh, were you?” You laughed as his lips casually travelled around your neck.

“Of course, only if you were feeling the same way.”

“We’ll see, cowboy.”

Harry did not attempt to hide his eagerness throughout the night. When you were standing, his hands were on your hips or your ass, when you sat in his lap, his hands were up your dress, resting on your upper thigh. As the night continued and as his hands remained all over you, you felt yourself starting to feel the same. Riled Up. Hot and Bothered. Horny.

“Maybe we get out of here early?” You whispered in Harry’s ear, causing his body to perk up. He hastfully nodded his head and led you to the door.

Your pace only quickened as you raced up the stairs of your dorm room building, hand in hand. As you fumbled with your keys to unlock your door, Harry kissed every square inch of your neck.

“Laila’s not going to be here right?” He asked in between kisses, referring to your roommate.

“She’s still at the party…but we don’t have all the time in the world.” You replied as you opened the door, making sure to lock it behind you.

His lips were immediately on your as the lock on the door clicked.

He turned you around, pushing you onto the bed with a gentle force that made you gasp. The red dress you wore clung to your skin as he yanked it up, exposing you to the coolness of the room. His hands traced the curve of your waist, his thumbs hooking into the lacy thong that barely covered your dripping pussy. He pulled it down your legs, tossing it aside.

He dropped to his stomach on the bed as his eyes took in the sight before him, your legs shaking with anticipation. Harry leaned in, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed the inside of your thigh. You whimpered, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. His tongue flicked out, tasting your sweetness as he moved closer to the center of your need. He took his time, teasing the sensitive skin around your pussy, making you beg for more.

As his tongue touched your clit, you gripped his shoulders, stopping him. "Wait," You panted. "You wanna grab the grab the camera"

A cheeky smile spread across Harry's face as he pulled back. "My little slutty girl," he murmured "Always thinking about the fans, huh?”

You bit your lip, unable to resist the urge to watch him as he stood up and grabbed the o camera from your bedside table. You knew it would take a few minutes to set up the tripod and get the perfect angle, but Harry looked too good to not capture him. The bulge in his black jeans was impossible to ignore, straining against the fabric as he moved around the room. You could see his excitement growing with every step, and the anticipation was making your stomach churn.

Finally, the camera was ready, the red light blinking at you from the corner of the room. Harry crawled back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he positioned himself between your legs. He leaned in, his tongue tracing the outline of your pussy before delving in like he was starving. You felt like you could melt into the mattress as he ate you, his mouth and tongue working in harmony to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you rocked your hips to meet his eager mouth.

He stopped, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing smirk. "You're going to have to be quiet, baby," he whispered, his voice thick. "We are still in your dorm room, remember?"

You nodded, a mix of excitement and embarrassment flushing your cheeks. Harry leaned in and kissed you deeply. He pulled away and whispered, "But I know how much you like it when they can hear you."

You pushed him off of you and sat up. Harry's eyes stayed in you with surprise and intrigue as he took in your newfound assertiveness. You slid off the bed, the white cowgirl boots making a satisfying sound as they hit the floor. Though they gave you a little confidence you slid them off and threw them aside. You strutted over to the camera, your hips swaying with each step, and turned it on. Your red dress clung to your body, your nipples hard and visible through the fabric as you faced Harry with a sultry look.

"Why don't you hold this for a while?" You handed him the camera. You watched him, his eyes hungrily taking in the sight of you, the lust in them making you even wetter. Harry took the camera, his grip tight as he looked at you through the viewfinder. "You want to show them how good of a little slut I can be for you?" You whispered, your voice low and seductive.

With a smile and a nod from Harry, you straddled him, your knees pushing into the bed on either side of his hips. Your red dress hiked up around your waist, giving him a perfect view of your bare pussy as you reached down to unbutton his jeans. You slid your hands into his boxers, gripping his cock firmly. It was already hard, the heat of it pulsing against your palm.

He groaned as you began to stroke him, your movements slow and deliberate. His eyes never left yours, the camera forgotten in his hand as he took in the sight of you, dressed but still open and exposed to him. You leaned forward, your breasts pressing against his thigh, your ass up in the air, and took his cock into your mouth.

You could feel him swell in your mouth as you worked him, your tongue swirling around his tip as you sucked. The taste of him filled your mouth, making you want to moan around his length. But you held back, knowing you were supposed to be quiet. Instead, you let out little whimpers of pleasure, muffled by his cock, that seemed to drive him even more wild.

His eyes were heavy with pleasure as you deep-throated him, your hands playing with his balls. His grip on your hair tightened, guiding you faster, pushing you down further until you could feel his cock hit the back of your throat, his breath becoming heavy.

But just as you felt him get to the edge, you pulled away, leaving his cock covered with your saliva. You straddled him again, this time with your dress still rucked up around your waist. He watched as you took his cock in your hand and positioned it at your entrance. Without a word, you sank down onto him, taking him inch by inch.

His hand immediately came to your thigh to guide you through your slow motions. Without even realizing it, your whimpers became louder, moans began to leave your mouth. "What did I say baby?" You ignored his demand for your quietness, his cock feeling too good inside of you.

Instead you lowered the straps of your dress, letting your braless breasts become exposed to him (a part of you thinking they may even distract him from your increasingly loud moans).

Harry's eyes slightly widened as he took in the sight, his cock twitching in response. You began to bounce on him, your tits bouncing in sync with your movements. His hands shot up to cup them, his thumbs brushing against your sensitive nipples as he filmed you.

You leaned forward, taking his hand and bringing it to your mouth. You sucked on his thumb, your eyes never leaving his as you did so.

As you watched his face express how much pleasure he was in, you felt the need to up the ante. You pulled off of him. Almost causing Harry to protest until he saw the determined look on your face.

You leaned forward, taking his cock and placing it between your tits. You started to titty-fuck him, the wetness of your pussy smearing across your skin as you did so. His moans grew louder as you squeezed your tits together around his cock.

You knew that this was a move that always got him off (and your viewers definitely appreciated it as well), so you made sure to keep it going until he was right on the edge. But you didn't stop there. You leaned down and took his cock in your mouth again, sucking hard as you continued to pump him with your tits. Harry's hand found its way back to your hair, pushing you down further as he started to thrust up into your mouth.

“So fucking good, Y/N. Perfect girl.”

You felt him get closer and closer to the edge, but just as you knew he was about to cum, you pulled away. Harry groaned in frustration, his hand slipping from your hair as he tried to catch his breath. You gave him a wicked smile as you lifted yourself up. You turned around and straddled him again, this time, you were facing away from him.

You hiked up your dress, revealing the perfect roundness of your ass, and slammed back down onto his cock. Harry's hands shot out to grab onto your hips to keep you steady. You leaned forward, placing your hands on the bed as you began to ride him in reverse, the camera capturing every bounce and jiggle of your ass.

"Going to be the star of the show tonight, hmm?" Harry murmured, his voice tight with need. You didn't answer, your mind focusing on your body and his pleasure. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, and it made you want to go even faster. But you held back, enjoying the slow, torturous pace.

You heard him place the camera on the nightstand, pointing towards you and him, so he could have more hands on your body. Your pace quickened dramatically, almost like a reward for him for choosing to focus on you.

Though, your body began to tire quickly, your thighs burned, your thrusts became slower and shorter. Harry could see your weakness spreading.

“Where’s my confident girl? Getting tired?” He teased in a dominant way, causing you to mentally roll your eyes.

“No…just teasin’ you.” You mumbled, fully knowing you were lying to him. He caught on and grabbed your stomach to slowly lean you back onto him.

You succumbed, pressing your back into his chest and he held you in place. His hands found your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples until you were crying out. The camera sat just above your head, recording every moment of your passion. You looked over your shoulder, watching him watch you, his eyes filled with lust.

You reached and grabbed his hand, bringing it down to your clit. "Want you to make me feel good," you whispered, your voice soft but thick with innocence and desire. Harry's eyes never left yours as he began to rub your clit in tight circles, his other hand still kneading your breast. Your hips began to rock back and forth, fucking yourself on his cock as he pleasured you.

“God, Harry…I love it so much.” You moaned out.

“Yeah, baby? Like fucking yourself on my cock?” His lips brushed against your ear, you kept your eyes pinched closed and nodded your head.

The sound of your moans filled the room, no longer muffled by the need for quiet and discretion. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, and you could feel the tension building in your core. Your moans grew louder, turning into cries of pleasure that echoed off the walls of the small dorm room. You have lost full control now, letting Harry and his thrusts control everything you did.

You felt the bed shake beneath you as Harry picked up his pace, his breathing turning ragged as he neared his own climax. The pressure was building, and you could tell he was getting close. But you weren't far behind. Harry's grip on your hips tightened, his own moans filling the room as he drove into you deeper and harder.

You leaned back into Harry's embrace, his hands roaming your body as he whispered dirty encouragements into your ear. "I know, baby...let go. Let that pretty pussy squeeze my cock."

The friction of his fingers against your clit was too much. You threw your head back and screamed out your release, your body shuddering with the intensity of the orgasm that crashed through you. You felt Harry's grip tighten, his own moans becoming more erratic as he felt your walls clench around him.

"You okay?" Harry asked, his thrusts halting to comfort you. Your head nodded in haste as your body was able to quickly recover from the powerful orgasm.

"M'gonna flip you over sweetie, get a shot of your pretty back with my cum on it."

You nodded, feeling a thrill run down your spine. He carefully flipped you onto your stomach, your dress now bunched up around your waist. You felt his cock slip out of you with a wet sound, and you knew he was close. Harry's hand as it gripped the base of his cock. You slowly started to grind your ass against him, slow circles on his thighs to help encourage the thrusts from his hand.

"Fuck, Baby," Harry groaned, his grip tightening on your hip. Your whimpers continued though you were not receiving any pleasure.

He painted your back with his cum as his release came. He watched it dribble down your spine, mesmerized by the sight, he reached for the camera. He adjusted the angle, capturing your ass still glistening from your own arousal, then panned to your painted back. His cheeky smirk grew as he took a step back to film your entire body.

"Maybe I won't clean you up," Harry murmured, his voice low and full of dark promise. "I'll just keep you like this, with your pretty wet pussy and my cum on your back, for everyone to see." You laughed and lightly kicked his leg.

He turned the camera off, deciding to go against his idea and grabbed a rag to wet in the sink before coming over to clean you. Once his cum was clean from your back, he helped you and your knees, which were beginning to sore, flip onto your back. As he continued to clean you up, your body became light and your eyes were heavy.

“Tired from all the riding you were doing?” Harry asked, your tired eyes staying closed as you laughed.

“I haven’t done that much work in a while.” You joked. Harry threw the washcloth into your dirty laundry and leaned forward to brush your hair away and kiss you.

“I know, the little pillow princess is all tired out from taking control.” You both chuckled as Harry continued to soothingly run his hand in your hair. “Let's get you out of this dress, cowgirl.”

Tags:

@mema10 @lizsogolden @harrrrystylesslut @tulips4harry @cloudyluun @dipmeinhoneyh

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aliaology · 6 months ago

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RISK

summary: in which you and luke have been exchanging texts and calls back and forth after you stalked his instagram and accidentally liked a post from 2020. now you’re absolutely hooked but is it a good idea?

pairings: lhughes x fem!reader

look at me know. know i shouldn’t do it, but i hunted you down. know you had a girl, but it didn’t work out, know you bought a house, but you had to move out, and

you didn’t really know luke hughes. you knew who he was, due to being really good friends with his brother, jack. but you didn’t know the person behind the name.

so, when jack posted the boy for his birthday, you thought he was pretty. that being said, you clicked the tagged people, his profile, and went on a small little stalking moment.

luke didn’t really post a lot, but as a girl who thought he was cute, you were able to figure out a few things. he had a girlfriend, key word, had. she seemed to be in posts until she just wasn’t.

some of the comments from his friends had confirmed a split by making single man jokes. men.

not only that, but when he was with his girlfriend, they got an apartment together. his name must not have been the one on the lease as you learned from jack about luke moving in.

you continued to scroll through his instagram. going further and further back. you stopped on one photo. it was a cute one of him and his brothers. you double tapped the photo, until you realized it was from 2020. instead of unliking it, you threw your phone to the ground and hid your face away in embarrassment— as if he could see you.

you knew there was no point in taking away your like. he definitely saw it and is definitely wondering why one of jacks mutuals is liking posts from 2020.

you groan against your sheets. how could you be so stupid? your phone dinged. you got off of your bed and grabbed your phone. he texted you.

[ yn.username ] lhughes_06 ill admit i stalked your ig too but liking a photo from 2020? amateur move

holy fuck.

isn’t it fun? thinking i’m right when i’m probably wrong. holding my breath like i met someone, knowing damn well that i haven’t been touched by you.

after that day, messages were sent back and forth constantly. at first, it started as a small convo. you lied, saying your friend had your phone and showed you the picture. you told him you saw jack and liked it so you could use it as blackmail against the older hughes.

luke didn’t really buy it, but for your sake, he pretended. from here, the interactions weren’t that big. you two followed each other. you’d repost his and jacks posts, as a good friend does. he’d do the same.

you’d like his stories, reply to them every now and then. again, he did the same right back. then, you two finally began talking. starting with the fact that you posted on your story a picture of yourself and your best friend.

luke was tapping through numerous stories, landing on yours as jack was looking over his story. you and jack were extremely close, but he had no idea who your girl best friend was.

“dude ask her who her friend is.” jack told.

so he did. then you two didn’t stop texting. it got to the point jack had to force luke to get ready for practice.

[yn.username] lhughes_06 jack here, stop flirting with my brother you freak. he barely moved for an hour so he could talk to you

it’s easy to say that you didn’t in fact listen to his words.

in truth, you were giddy and continued to text the boy—even if you had yet to touch him, or even meet him. how were you jacks friend without meeting his family?

i’m not proud, guess i’m just scared of you shooting it down. you can just talk, and i’ll stare at your mouth. it could be bad, but i wanna find out.

you really wanted to meet up with luke. it was almost sad how desperate you were to meet him. in reality, you really just wanted to touch him. to feel his skin, to feel his hair. you wanted to see what he wore outside of hockey, and in person.

but you were scared. the idea that maybe he wasn’t talking to you, but just replying, was enough to scare you and make you keep your mouth shut.

so every time you both facetime, your eyes are on his lips. watching them move with every word he says, every quirk of the lip when he smiles, every small movement, you’re watching it.

luke caught onto it. he didn’t stop you though—hell he liked it.

in my head, you’re in the car and you’re coming to me and you get to my door and you can’t even speak but i think that it’s sweet. yeah, i think that you’re sweet.

your little obsession with luke continued to grow. making way to begin fantasizing moments like a high school girl would about her crush.

maybe the image of his driving to your house just to see you was a bit of a reach…but then the image of his at your door, seeing you and being speechless—it was cute.

unfortunately, that’s not what was actually gonna happen. you two couldn’t make a plan up for your lives. he was so busy with hockey that he was either in another country for games, or at four hour long practices.

you were also slammed. school was kicking your ass, and if you weren’t at school, you were interning for a law firm. if at neither of those, you were working your job at a cafe to help make money for school.

so in all, you two wouldn’t have the time to see each other. so was this crush.. really smart? or was it a bad decision? to be honest, you didn’t care enough. you practically called him ‘your boy’ to your best friend.

i’m gonna bend ‘til i break and you’ll be my favorite mistake. i wish you could hold me here, shakin’, you’re the risk, i’m gonna take it. why aren’t you here in my bedroom? hopelessly boring without you. too soon to tell you ‘i love you.’ too soon to tell you ‘i love you’

you threw all thoughts that this could be a mistake right out the window. you stopped caring because the urge, the desire for him was becoming unbearable.

so instead of wondering why he wasn’t with you, in your bedroom, you packed a bag and talked to jack. jack was going out of town for the day, so he approved of you going to his apartment to see luke.

you could feel the pit in your stomach as you got closer and closer to the apartment. the anxiousness rising. what would you say to luke? it was too soon to say you loved him, but did you truly care?

you took a deep breath and stepped out of the uber. you thanked the driver and grabbed your backpack before walking away. you entered the apartment, entering the door code jack had given you.

you continued on your small adventure, rushing up the stairs to the forth floor. you panted slightly as you got to the top. it was hard to run up four flights of stairs.

after gaining your breath back, you walked down the hall. you got closer and closer, anxiety rising with every step until you finally stopped in front of the door.

you raised your hand, knocking on the wooden door with your knuckles. it took a moment, but then the door opened. the curly hair boy stood in front of you.

both of you were wide eyed, your cheeks still pink from the small workout you had. this was a big risk.

“i love you.”

and you were gonna take it.

lol hey guys

#hockey #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #lh43 #lhugh43 #hughes brothers #luke hughes imagine #luke

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villainintern · 9 months ago

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... is an upcoming Choicescript interactive fiction game! You can follow development updates on the dev blog here, view the forum page here, and play the demo here.

Villain Intern is currently right at the end of Chapter One: Onboarding as of 5/18/25, sitting at just over 58,000 words.

[FAQ Here and character introductions here, for the newer villains!]

Play as an aspiring supervillain interning at UnderHand, a legacy criminal corporation. Start from the bottom and navigate a world where everyone has it out for you, leveraging your strange superhuman abilities and your knack for manipulation. Make a name for yourself as an executive villain (with your own swanky corner office!), or turn against your higher-ups and usurp the company,…or throw away your promising career for the greater good, I guess...

Powers and Customization:

Choose from two different ability trees. Play as either a homemade cyborg with (painful looking) mechanical augmentations of your own design, or a genetically mutated freak with mysterious, bizarre abilities derived from animal genes. Choose 3 of the 9 unique abilities available for each power type, which update (or mutate) to scale as you get stronger. Climb walls, perfectly mimic any voice, rotate your head 360 degrees, talk to the AI assistant in your brain, etc etc! As a rule, you start out villainous, but whether you’re charming or sinister, sniveling or demanding, and backstabbing or frontstabbing is up to you.

______________________________________________________________

Key Characters and Relationships

Relationship progression tracks two major stats- your connection with a character, and your rivalry, which are not mutually exclusive. So you can romance your greatest nemesis, backstab your closest friend, that kind of thing. Or both at once, with the same person, even..

Fellow Interns:

👾 Peter Hyde is your cubicle neighbor, a geeky slackoff who’s fond of novelty ties. Unlike you, Peter doesn’t really want to be here, but he seems for some reason unable to quit. Laid-back, conflict avoidant, and generally easy to manipulate, he’s easy minion material for the MC- but his attitude belies a volatile, monstrous secret. Which can be a great asset or a major risk, depending on if you can maintain your control over him.

🤖 T9-670 is a seven-foot tall ex-war machine. Once a military member conscripted to UnderHand’s private security decal, its contract didn’t end when it died- the soldier’s brain was transplanted into a humanoid steel frame with a dark glass plate for a face. T9 is doing some soul searching- it’s not totally sure if it even has one left, but it would like to have a purpose beyond fixing printers and mowing down UnderHand’s enemies with its plasma gun.

🔬 Dr. Dr. Elaine Foster is an up-and-coming mad scientist, assistant to the esteemed Dr. Shrink. Don’t bring up the fact that she has two doctorates and is still an intern. She’s a genius prodigy, but otherwise has no superhuman abilities, which causes her to be overlooked by your superiors. Passionate and inscrutable, she’s obsessed with making it to the top her own way, and will remain one step ahead of you if you aren’t careful.

🧪 Reid/Reney Sullivan (gender selectable, nb included) is your nemesis, or at least they think so. They’re employed by OverSight, the subsidized hero-corporation that works in tandem with the government. An interning hero with impressive telekinetic powers, they are nonetheless as much of an amateur as you, and so you find yourself on even footing with one of the most promising superheroes in the business. Earnest and witty, they genuinely just want to help people. Eventually, they become fixated on “figuring you out”, which can lead to them getting sucked into your schemes. That, or their meddling could be your downfall. Worst of all, they might even succeed in reforming you.

There’s also 👁️ Blink, a rogue superhuman- some say vigilante, others say independent villain. Completely anonymous, they wear a unique suit of tactical gear that allows them to turn completely invisible, the first of its kind. Quippy, chipper, and sauntering, they tend to use their powers for ridiculous, showy things like popping up behind newscasters on TV. An invisible superhuman that loves the spotlight, Blink is full of contradictions. And secrets, big ones, that pertain to you.

… plus a cast of older, more established villains and heroes- including The Man, UnderHand’s enigmatic CEO. A faceless, hollow man in an empty suit. Actually, nobody’s ever seen anything but the suit, so he might just be the suit.

______________________________________________________________

FURTHER READING: 🌃THE PINTEREST BOARD 🎧THE PLAYLIST

TAG ORGANIZATION: VI Updates - The big stuff, new demo content VI Info - The info posts, development news VI Asks - Anything coming through the inbox VI Characters - Character related info/bonus content VI Sketches - Doodles and concept art Lore - What it says on the tin. Anything worldbuildy The Fridge - The place of honor for fan art! Pinned to my imaginary fridge with a digital magnet

#interactive fiction #choicescript #hosted games #choice of games #IF #VI updates

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untitled-document-95 · 3 months ago

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Infatuated (jake seresin x reader)

Summary: A chance meeting turns into an unforgettable first date

Warnings: Alcohol, minor language

Requested: by Anonymous

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Cowboy Jake has my heart, that is all

*gif is not mine*

Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin met the love of his life in the most unlikely place for someone like him. He’d grown up hearing that the library is where the magic happens, but he didn’t believe it until that day.

His hometown’s new library was vastly different from the musty building of his youth. This place was all glass and metal and had so many rooms, the directory on the wall resembled that of a doctor’s office. He followed its directives to the second floor, to the office of whomever he needed to turn his passport paperwork into. From down the hall drifted the sounds of a piano. A sign pointing that direction read, “Music Practice Rooms”. Libraries really do have everything these days, Jake thought.

The door to the passport office was ajar, the office behind it temporarily vacant. A sign taped to the door had the words “Be back in 5” scrawled across it. Needing to kill time, Jake wandered in the direction of the music, if you could call it that. What he heard wasn’t exactly a song, but rather an attempt at a song being plunked on the keys. At times it flowed nicely before abruptly ending after the playing of a wrong note. Other times notes were played slowly and deliberately as the musician in question built muscle memory.

The door labeled “Music Practice Room 5” was cracked open, which is how the music was floating down the hall instead of being trapped within the soundproofed walls. Expecting to see a teenager or even a child, given the amateur nature of the music, Jake was pleasantly surprised when instead he laid eyes upon a woman appearing to be about his age.

If you ask Jake now, he cannot tell you what it was about her that immediately enamored him. Before he’d even caught a glimpse of her face, he was intrigued. Unfortunately, there was no way in which getting her attention ended any way except badly. He’d be the creep watching a literal stranger play piano. They may have been in public, but they were set apart from the rest of the library enough that his sudden presence there would seem threatening.

For that reason, Jake meandered back to the passport office to wait. It wasn’t long until the ivory keys fell silent and the girl, now weighed down by a backpack with books clutched in her arms, waltzed down the hall. Jake didn’t notice her until she had passed by him. He wanted to call out to her, to say something - anything - that would direct her attention at him for just a moment. Nothing came to mind, so he refrained; that is, until a paper fell from the books clutched in her arms, but she didn’t notice.

“Ma’am?” he called. She turned, noticed the paper in his hand, and gave an exasperated look, seemingly directed at herself.

“Oh, gosh, thank you so much!” Retrieving the paper, she gave Jake a sweet smile. He smiled and nodded at her in return, quickly racking his brain for something witty to say. Jake had never had this much trouble conjuring up something to say to a pretty girl. Something about this girl was different to him.

“Can’t have ya losing the secret to life,” he quipped. She smirked and raised one eyebrow.

“Well, I don’t know about that…” Jake held out a hand to her, introducing himself as just “Jake”. She shakes his hand, telling him her name as well.

“Are you from here?” he asks.

“Sort of. I lived here as a kid, but I just moved back. What about you?”

“Sort of,” he teases, copying the tone she’d used and slight head tilt she’d done, which made her giggle. “I grew up here but I’ve been away for a while.”

“Are you glad to be back?” she asks. Jake thinks of how his new apartment feels so lonely compared to base housing, of how none of his friends from high school are still around, and of how superfluous his whole presence feels here. What’s the point of being here when there isn’t a plane to fly, a mission to prepare for, or training to complete?

“In some ways,” he replies. Life back home isn’t all bad, but it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, either.

“I get that,” she says. “I’m really not sure why I came back, I just…” she trails off, looking as though she knows how she wants to finish her sentence, but chooses not to. The moment is abruptly ended as a short, harried looking man hurries into the passport office.

“I am so sorry, folks. There was a line down at the copier, and then it ran out of toner…” the man continues to prattle on about the trials and tribulations of his momentary venture from his office, but it’s clear that neither of the two just outside the door are paying him much attention.

“You know, I’m not really sure why I’m back here either. Maybe we should grab a drink sometime and see if we can’t figure it out together,” Jake says as casually as possible. The girl’s cheeks flush with pleasure,

“I’d like that,” she nods.

__________________

“Damn it!” Jake shouts, smacking the steering wheel.

He’d screwed up. Extraordinarily. Monumentally. He’d made plans to meet up with the girl from the library at a local bar at 7 PM. What’s the saying? “We plan, God laughs?” Well God must be having a damn comedy special wherever He may be while He screws Jake over at every turn.

As soon as he got back from the library, his mama called and asked him to haul some potting soil from her car to her garden, which turned into him spreading and tilling said soil as the afternoon sun bore down on the back of his neck. Finally, he got a chance to go home, shower, and change clothes. As he drove down his street, he saw a group of kids struggling to get their frisbee out of a tree. How can you not stop and help a group of kids who are actually outside playing instead of whatever it is kids do on screens these days?

Then, it was the traffic. Traffic like this little Texas town had never seen, if you ask Jake. First, construction near his apartment complex. Then, a wreck on the state highway. Now? A damn cow in the road. Jake watches in annoyance as the farmer with the bastard bovine tries to persuade the animal to finish crossing the roadway.

By the time the obstacle is cleared, Jake is over an hour late. She’s gonna be so pissed, he thinks. Who wouldn’t be?

Climbing out of his truck, Jake throws on his hand-me-down Stetson hat. When in Rome, and all that. When he finally pulls open the door to the bar, nothing could prepare him for what he saw next.

He spotted her immediately. She’d traded her athleisure from the library for a sundress and cowboy boots. My, was she pretty, Jake thought. Instead of being seated at the bar, grudgingly wondering where the hell he is, she’s on the dance floor. She spins around and Jake watches in awe. She’s found some other girls to dance with, and they all laugh in a carefree way that brings a smile to Jake’s face.

Arms swinging to the beat of the song, she spots him from across the room. When he expects her face to scowl, to unleash bitterness and resentment for his tardiness, it does the opposite. Her smile widens, her eyebrows raise, and she practically skips in his direction. When she gets close enough, she reaches up and grabs the hat from his head, depositing it on her own.

“Excuse me, cowboy,” she says, wiggling a finger at him. “I got something to tell you.” Jake leans in and can smell the alcohol on her. Her happiness is certainly being influenced by someone with a “J” name - not Jake, but Jameson or Jack.

“What would that be, darling?” he asks, soaking in her elation. She rises onto her toes, trying to whisper in his ear, but her intoxication prevents her from being too quiet.

“You look like you love me,” she drawls in an accent that hadn’t been present at the library.

Jake blushes. The look she gives him says so much while remaining silent, for a moment anyway.

“You’re late to the party. I’m already drunk and ready to go.” She continues to give him that look, telling him exactly where she wants him to take her.

He knows he can’t take her home - not like this, not yet. Emboldened by her proclamation, Jake wraps his arms around her waist, keeping them a gentlemanly distance from anything improper.

“Why don’t we take a walk outside, see if we can’t sober you up a bit and then see about getting out of here?”

“Whatever you say, cowboy.”

#x reader #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #glen powell #glen powell x reader #untitleddocument95 #Spotify

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bluukive · 2 months ago

Text

Restriction

coɴтεɴт - MDNI, PLEASE have age in bio when interacting, SMÜT, sub!Gojo x dom!reader x sub!Rafayel, shịbari (both men are tied up), hụmping (specifically the foot I'm sorry), pathetic men, dẹgredation, begging, Gojo has no self control, amateur writing, abrupt ending, there isn't actual intėrcourse

cнαrαcтεrѕ - Gojo (jujutsu Kaisen), Rafayel (Love and Deepspace)

an - idkwhatthisisyall I HATE talking about feet but I couldn't resist adding it in here cus the two men are low(high)key freaky. I had to do some research on Google about shibarï. Somethings may be incorrect. Praying for my Internet providers.

wc - 1066 words

You don’t really know how it happened, but how could you pass up on the opportunity of having the two prettiest men you know at your mercy?

The bedroom is silent- except for the delicious subtle creak of the red ropes tightening around two desperate men. Someone's breath catches, a throat bobs in sweet anticipation. You’ve never felt so powerful before, and God, you were addicted. You’re sitting at the foot of the bed, bare ankles delicately crossed over as you eye the men before you.

They’re both on their knees. Gojo, and Rafayel.

Red ropes adorn Gojo’s pale skin, criss-crossing his plush pecs in what was a karada-style harness. The ropes were deliberately tied tight enough so that the white-haired man couldn’t free himself, faint red indents marking his flushed skin. But they were loose enough so that he wasn't in pain. Diamond shapes had been formed by the ropes, providing a tantalising view of Gojo’s lean body being restrained with every shift of his desperate torso.

The man’s arms were bound behind him, expertly done. You had done your research, after all. You wouldn't dare slack when given such a perfect opportunity to ruin him. Gojo’s broad shoulders were pulled back, chest pushed out, and forearms pushed together that create a delicious curve of his spine. A low groan left him as he shifted yet again. The ropes don't keep his legs bound together. Instead, the ropes press firmly against either side of Gojo’s groin, emphasising the hardness he harbours because of your unexpected dominance. It twitches once, twice. Again, and again, until there’s a damp patch on the dark boxers you’ve left him in to humiliate him even further.

You study Gojo carefully, as if he was merely a plaything for you to devour over and over. The change in power dynamics was exhilarating, but a part of you knew you had to be careful. His head was tilted so cockily to the side, lips parted as his body gleams with sweat under the dim light of your bedroom. Gojo has that half-lidded look in his cerulean eyes, one that dares you to come closer despite his clear predicament.

Finally, you let your eager eyes settle on the other willing participant of your game. Rafayel’s ropes are harsher in a sense. He’s tightly bound, heart-shaped patterns adorning his glistening skin. The ropes are tighter than Gojo’s, and he loves it. It’s a warning to him. A challenge. Visible veins protrude from his arms because of the slight struggle, and the slight mass of his thighs were emphasised by the red ropes confining him to his rightful place on the floor. On his knees.

The man liked a little pain and humiliation. He was also dressed in a tight pair of dark boxers that did nothing to hide his obvious arousal at being reduced to this pathetic state. Rafayel's tongue swipes over his kiss-bitten lower lip, and he relishes in the light sting from where you had harshly drawn it into your mouth before restraining him. His jaw ticks slightly. He wants to pull against the ropes, to do the same to you as you had done to him.

But no, he waits. So does Gojo. You shifted on the bed before them, thighs threatening to shut at the sight of what you had created.

“Y’know, I don’t think either of us thought you had it in you,” Gojo murmurs lightly, hair tousled ever so slightly as he allows his eyes to linger on the swell of your breasts that were confined in the thinnest of silks. He shifts again, a breathy curse leaving him as the ropes dig further into his skin. “Tying us both up? Bold. Extremely bold.”

You exhale slowly through your nose, Gojo's words sinking into your mind. A single bare foot of yours rises, inching closer until you could press your toes down Rafayel’s chest agonisingly slow. You don’t pay attention to him, but Gojo’s head snaps to the side to watch what you were doing with a newly found hunger in his eyes. He swears he can feel when you dig your heel into Rafayel’s clothed erēction once you reach it, his own hips bucking up to mirror the actions of the man beside him.

“C’mon, baby. Don’t tease me like this. Give it to me,” Rafayel practically purrs, hips rolling against your foot despite the fact that he could feel the warmth of his pre-cụm smear all over the flushed head of his cōck. His brows were furrowed, but you’re not satisfied with his begging. Gojo chokes on a low whimper, his eyes trained on Rafayel’s languid movements as he ignores his own hardness.

But then you remove your foot off of Rafayel, ignoring the shudders and protests that leave him as you slip off the bed and crouch in front of Gojo. The room feels infinitely warmer when you drag a manicured nail along his jaw, then up his chin, eventually dragging the warm digit across his bottom lip. Gojo’s cōck twitches again, and so does Rafayel’s. In unison, even. It appeared that their bodies were in perfect harmony with each other.

“Beg,” you say softly, grinding your knee softly against Gojo’s aching crotch. His hips jerk almost violently, and Rafayel could only watch with his chest heaving in raw need. “Both of you, beg.”

Rafayel’s lips fall open before closing. He hesitates, eyes flickering towards a panting Gojo, and back to you. But then any sense of embarrassment was long forgotten the moment your own back arched sinfully. Your tongue found Gojo’s ear, slowly licking the shell as you silently coaxed him to beg. Rafayel could do nothing but watch.

Your knee presses harder against Gojo.

“Didn’t I tell you to beg?”

And so Rafayel cracks first, despite not being the one you had your attention on.

“Please, touch me. Touch him. Just don’t leave us like this,” he grits out, eyes growing hazy with sheer desperation as he pleaded with you. Your eyes are back on Gojo, whose head was thrown back in ecstasy as he practically comes undone after only a bit of grinding on your knee.

A shame, you must have been distracted.

Rafayel’s face drops, and a tut leaves your mouth. Your murmured words echo through the room, even reaching Gojo, who spasms through the aftershocks of his ōrgasm.

“Not good enough."

#jjk #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace au #jujutsu kaisen #anime #jjk au #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x reader #rafayel #rafayel smut #love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #lds rafayel #lds smut #love and deepspace smut #lads rafayel #lads smut #bluukive

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junkissed · 1 year ago

Text

amateur hour

member — camboy!jun x f reader genre — smut, f2l, idiots to lovers, fluffy ending word count — 8.6k synopsis — the most awkward encounter of your life might just end up being the best thing you and your best friend have ever done together. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, masturbation (jun), voyeurism & exhibitionism (watching porn together), jun is a big time simp but in a soft way, please lmk if i missed any! notes — huge thanks to @onlymingyus and @highvern for reading this for me to make sure i wasn't insane, and thanks to @cheolism and @duhnova for help with the title <3 this is my longest fic in a while and it took so much energy to finish but i hope yall enjoy! please reblog or send an ask and lmk if you enjoyed this! :)

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"hello? anybody home?"

jun squeezes his eyes shut, throwing his head back with a stifled moan as he cums all over his hand. his grip on his cock tightens, milking every last drop out across his abs as he fights to keep himself quiet.

fuck, he forgot. forgot he'd told you to come over tonight. forgot he'd promised a movie night to cheer you up after your latest dating disaster. he feels like the worst friend on the planet right now, for so many reasons.

the main reason? the fact that he's just finished cumming at the thought of you… and also the fact that he's been streaming the whole thing to thousands of people.

out of breath, he presses a couple keys before slamming his laptop shut. no goodbye to his viewers, no thanking the people who donated. but they're used to his unconventional streams, often barely acknowledging their existence or even not talking at all. not because he cares deeply about staying anonymous, but because he's just so… average.

maybe that's why he's so popular: he's just a regular guy jerking off. people like that amateur stuff. no elaborate productions, no fancy camera work, just a guy with a laptop and a really pretty cock (or so he's been told). he could be anyone: your classmate, your neighbor, the cute guy from the library. he might even be your best friend.

"in here— changing!" he calls through his closed door, rushing as fast as he can to clean himself up and put clothes on. he's mentally praising himself for remembering to make his bed this morning, and after wiping a suspicious looking stain off his desk and fixing his chair, his room looks halfway decent.

he tosses open his bedroom door to greet you, throwing a smile onto his face. he doesn't want you to feel like you're intruding—he loves it when you come over, he wouldn't have given you his house key if he didn't want you to—even though at this exact moment, you very much are intruding. even though he invited you over in the first place. fuck, he's such an idiot.

when jun hadn't answered any of your texts before you let yourself in his apartment, you'd figured he'd forgotten about tonight. you'd hoped tonight would be an exception, but it's not out of the ordinary for him to be forgetful. any other day you wouldn't have minded, even teased him about it, but not tonight. especially since he invited you over in the first place.

but all of your worries are suddenly pushed to the backseat when he comes out of his room looking… well, hot.

like, literally hot. he's sweating, his hair disheveled and his pupils huge as he pushes his shirt sleeves up his arms.

it takes a second for you to take it all in— obviously he'd forgotten about his promise and had started a workout instead. you can't say you haven't noticed lately how often he's started working out, his biceps bulking up and his chest peeking out through his shirts. you'd wondered when he's been finding the time to go to the gym, his excuse for years being that he's too busy or too lazy to leave the house, but it seems like he's been working out at home too now.

you stand awkwardly in the space between his living room and the door, watching the beads of sweat forming at his hairline. “if now's a bad time, i can— leave…”

"no!" he rushes to say, and you pause at his sudden outburst. "no. just... let me take a shower real quick. i'm so sorry, i lost track of time." he runs his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down while you try not to stare.

"sure," you say after a long moment. his eyes pause to travel over your face with an expression you can't read, but maybe you just imagined that because seconds later he's back to his cheery, usual self telling you to make yourself cozy on his bed and start looking for a movie while he's in the shower.

standing under the cold water, he promises to himself that he's going to get everything right tonight, despite the rocky start. he's gonna bring out the snacks and put on the movie and make you happy again. because that's what he always does, and he may not be the most perfect person in the world but he tries to be for you.

he's been there for every new boyfriend you tell him about that he already knows won't end well, and he's been there when it inevitably doesn't end well. he's been there without a single complaint for every drunk saturday night and every hungover sunday morning. and he's not going to complain this time either, no matter his feelings for you and how badly he wishes you would just date him instead. maybe he's a little biased, but he thinks he'd make a great boyfriend.

you sit at the edge of his bed wringing your hands until you hear the shower start to run, finally letting out a deep exhale and starting to relax with a moment to yourself.

he’ll take his shower, and it’ll be like a reset button for the evening; he’ll come out nice and clean like nothing ever happened, and you’ll snuggle up and watch a funny movie and maybe get a little drunk and forget all your troubles for the weekend. a clean slate, as if you hadn’t had to use every ounce of self control you’ve got in order to avoid ogling him and the way his sweat drenched shirt clung to his torso.

you’ll have such a fantastic time with the movie, you won’t even have time to stop and think about the fact that he probably works out shirtless. no, you definitely aren’t thinking about how you’ve never seen any gym equipment around his house so he must be doing like a crazy amount of pushups or something to get that ripped without any kind of exercise machine. the fact that these are not the kind of thoughts you should be thinking about your best friend is entirely irrelevant.

content with your plan to avoid thinking for the rest of the evening, you stand up from his bed and move to stand at his desk, opening his laptop to find something to watch.

and oh, you find something to watch, alright.

staring back at you on his screen is a porn site, paused on a video of a man laid naked across a worn out looking chair, legs spread wide with his cock tightly in his fist.

oddly enough, your first thought is that the scene looks… hot. the top of the video cuts off at the neck, hiding his face from the camera but leaving his prominent adam's apple exposed. it’s very obviously amateur, but even from just the single frame shown, you get the sense that there’s a certain charm to it. and quite honestly, it’s working for you.

apparently, it works for a lot of other people, too. the video has hundreds of thousands of views, and below it are suggested videos from the same man that boast similar numbers.

jun never struck you as the type of guy to watch solo male videos, but you aren't here to judge his preferences. hell, you've seen way worse yourself. there must be something he likes about it, though, and you’re half tempted to press play on the video to find out if the rest of it is as good as the preview seems to be.

you're about to close the tab and never speak of it again, but something else catches your eye and you pause, finger hovering over the mousepad. something about the guy in the video feels… familiar, somehow.

looking closer you see there's a little mole on his tummy, right by his hip, that reminds you of the one jun has. you've seen him without his shirt on enough times to recognize it—not like you've been staring or anything. just something you've noticed.

but then your stomach flips, and you realize what's actually familiar about the guy in the video. tied around his wrist is a thin red string, a friendship bracelet you made when you first met him and accidentally tied it too tight so he couldn't take it off that he's worn ever since.

there's no way that's a coincidence.

and then everything else starts to fall into place: the posters in the background of the video. the old desk chair you’ve sat in so many times that you’ll never be able to see the same way again. too many pieces fitting easily together like a puzzle.

but by the time you've had long enough to process all this information, the shower has stopped and out walks jun wearing nothing but a loose pair of sweatpants. your eyes drag away from the sight of his wet, naked chest and instantly fix on the bracelet tied around his wrist, unable to stop staring at it.

you distantly hear him call your name, and your gaze snaps back up at him with wide, guilty eyes, caught like a deer in headlights.

he opens a drawer and starts tugging a t-shirt on over his head, turning around to look at you. “did you find something to watc— oh.”

you follow his gaze towards his open laptop, the video sitting proudly on display in the tab you forgot to close.

you both stare at the paused video for a very long moment, the silence stretching on before all the words that were stuck in your throat suddenly come tumbling out all at once.

“i wasn’t— it was just open… i didn’t—”

he stands there in silence, and you stand there in silence, and the evidence sits on the desk between you like a wall that makes you feel intensely exposed, even though he’s the one who’s sitting naked on the open screen.

your first instinct (after panic, of course) is to slink home and hide yourself in your room and try to erase the image of your best friend’s dick from your memory. you’ve never thought they looked very attractive before, but his is weirdly beautiful to look at, and you’re not willing to explore that train of thought. also, way bigger than you were expecting, but it’s not like you thought about it often enough to guess how big he is or anything.

“maybe i should go home and we should just forget about tonight,” you rush to add when he still doesn’t say anything after a lengthy pause.

jun’s face falls, and you immediately feel a pang of guilt for trying to run. “you don't have to go,” he says quickly. “it’s not— um, nothing weird about it, right? i’m sorry, i should have closed it, or…” he pauses, stumbling over his words almost as badly as you are. “i don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. i promise my sheets—and everything in my room—is clean.” he tries an awkward smile, and it makes you feel really bad about making him feel bad.

“it's not weird at all. it's totally normal. i was just… surprised,” you try to smile back, but it doesn't work as well on you as it does on him. “just a shock, i guess. trying to process it. but it's fine. i promise.”

“i won't make it weird,” he says. “you don't have to watch it or anything.” he kind of wants you to.

“i wasn't thinking about it.” you definitely were.

there's another uncomfortably long silence. “so anyway, did you pick out a movie?” he asks at the same time you ask him a question, both trying to keep the conversation going, but you realize you should've kept your mouth shut and let him take the lead because he is way more capable of being normal about this than you are.

“what do you think about when you do it?” you blurt out, and you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth because you've realized just how invasive of a question that is and you're kind of hoping he didn't hear you, but he definitely did because he's sitting at the edge of his bed with a shocked look on his face, because out of all the things he was expecting you to say it definitely wasn't that.

“don't answer that. i don't know why i said that,” you follow up immediately, trying to mitigate the damage but it's too late.

his eyebrows are scrunched up in thought. “no, i don't care. i—um… i just don't know how to answer that without making it weird.”

“you don't have to,” you say quickly.

he turns to you, but you pointedly look away. “do you actually want to know?”

you look down at your hands, doing everything to avoid his eyes. “kinda.” yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

he laughs a little, and miraculously somehow it manages to lighten the tension, hearing that familiar sound. “you seem, like, really uncomfortable. we can just… pretend it never happened.”

“it's gonna be hard to do that. it's not every day you find out your best friend is a porn star,” you say finally. you force yourself to lift your head, at least in his general direction since you can't meet his eyes. you settle on looking at his mouth instead, but that was definitely a mistake because now you're staring at his lips and noticing for the first time how pretty they are and how soft they look and now you're wondering what it would feel like to kiss those lips and to—

“it's not really like being a porn star… well, kind of, it is. but like, not really, because—” he cuts himself off when he notices you staring. “sorry, i'll drop it. we don’t have to get into it.”

“no, i'm curious now,” you say. somehow you find the will to lift your head, finally meeting his eyes. “tell me how you do it.”

he stares blankly. “like how i jerk off, or… oh, you meant how the videos work,” he laughs as it clicks into place in his mind. obviously you wouldn't mean it like that—as much as he wishes you did.

you didn’t realize it until now but the uncomfortable, awkward tension at the initial shock of finding out that your best friend has a mildly successful porn career, has slowly been melting away into a different kind of tension. maybe it’s the adrenaline, the fight or flight instinct, or something else entirely, but it’s succeeded in making you bolder than you should be. everything in you should be telling you no, drop it, don’t invade his privacy, but all you can think is yes, please, tell me everything.

“is that what you were doing earlier? when i got here?”

he tilts his head imperceptibly at your question, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he tries to gauge your reactions. there’s something in the air and it’s beginning to affect him too. “i feel like you’ve already guessed the answer to that.”

you can’t help the smirk that tugs at the corner of your lips at his words, gaining confidence with each passing second. “i told you, i’m curious.”

“fine.” he cocks an eyebrow at you. “yeah, i was. what else do you wanna know?”

“you never answered my question earlier.”

“what do i think about?” he repeats, tactfully ignoring the blush creeping up his neck into his cheeks. “trade secret. i can’t tell you.”

clearly you aren’t satisfied with his answer, so he sighs and looks over at you. strands of wet hair from his shower rest across his forehead, and you can’t help but be reminded of how he looked when you’d first walked in, sweaty bangs sticking to his face in a similar fashion.

“it’s not any different than when i do it off camera. same thoughts.” his eyes trail down your body briefly before snapping back up to your face. “most of the time i don’t even remember i’m being filmed. just feels like a normal afternoon to me.”

when he meets your eyes again they almost seem to sparkle with a mischievousness he hasn’t seen from you in a long, long time. “so this is a normal afternoon for you, then? letting people watch you jerk off?” the words are more vulgar than he’s ever heard from you, but they taste good and satisfying on your tongue.

if even a quarter of jun’s brain was functioning normally right now, he might have the good sense to refuse to answer your questions. his side job was never supposed to be found out by friends or family, not because he’s embarrassed about what he does, but because he likes having that space to experiment with himself. it’s true he can try out fetishes and kinks he would’ve never known about before, yes, but more important to him is the fact that he can do whatever he wants, be whoever he wants to be, act however he wants to act.

yet he instantly buckles the second you smile and bat your pretty eyelashes at him without so much as a second thought. for as long as he’s known you he’s always had the urge to tell you everything, to talk for hours and hours about anything on his mind. he’s never felt like he needs to hide anything from you; even with this, his darkest secret, he’s an open book. willing and far too eager to answer anything you ask him.

a small, distant part of him has sort of always wanted you to find out about his alter ego, to question him exactly as you’re doing now. the thought of his secret becoming your secret, too.

“i guess so, yeah.” he grins and glances over at his laptop still sitting open, the image of himself paused on the screen.

you follow his eyes, looking back and forth between him and the video and trying not to find the similarities between the two. “you ever do anything… together? or just solo?”

only after you’ve said it do you realize how that question sounded coming out, and yet again you wish you could take back your words. it wasn’t meant to be an offer—though deep down you really wouldn’t mind that at all—but despite the numerous boundaries you’ve already overstepped tonight, you don’t think that’s a line you’re willing to cross just yet.

being aware of your best friend’s homemade porn and even watching it is one thing, but actually fucking him is completely different. and no matter how bad your feelings are for him, it still feels off limits. unless he suddenly decides to grab you by the neck and tell you he wants you to ride him until your legs give out (which you’d gladly do, for the record), you’re just going to have to keep those desires to yourself.

the implications of your question hang unanswered in the air, and you stumble to explain yourself before he has the chance to outright reject you. “that's not what i mean—not like that. i wasn’t… nevermind.” you cut yourself off, hoping you haven’t managed to dig yourself a deeper hole.

the corner of his mouth upturns in a smile that you find infuriatingly hot. “you weren’t what? and no, i haven’t. never had anybody i liked enough to try it with.” he gets shy again, glancing away from you and staring at his desk chair absently. “i haven’t told anyone about it, so it’s not like i have many options even if i wanted to.”

your cheeks flush in embarrassment, and that guilty feeling in the pit of your stomach from seeing something you shouldn’t have returns. you’re the only person who knows? and you only saw it on accident, so clearly he didn’t mean for anyone to ever find out. fuck, all of this was a mistake and maybe you really should pretend like nothing ever happened.

“i’m sure the people who watch you would be lining up at your door to fuck you if you asked.”

“not interested.” he doesn’t meet your eyes, his gaze lingering on your body again for a moment too long, and for some reason that sparks something within you.

you clear your throat and it grabs his attention, looking up at you in curiosity. “well, anyway. i’ve thought of something for us to watch.”

he perks up a little, and you almost feel bad for what you’re about to do because he seems so excited at the prospect of watching an actual movie. but you’ve endured more than enough of your fair share of his teasing over the years, and part of you is still curious to finally see him in action, so you grab his laptop and sit yourself down on his bed.

he walks closer to you to see what you’ve picked out for the evening, only to find you’ve put his own video on fullscreen, nonchalantly propping his computer up on your lap to watch as if his dick isn’t sitting in front of your very eyes in 4k high definition.

his cheeks turn even redder than they already were as he freezes in place, his eyes fixed on the image of his own cock in hand and toned body on display, waiting for you to press play.

“you coming?” you pat the bed next to you expectantly, smiling such an innocent little smile as if you’re unaware of what you’re doing, though both of you already know exactly what’s going to happen. and it’s driving him up the fucking wall.

he’s so flustered that he doesn’t even laugh at your pun, still standing at the foot of his bed and trying to summon every last shred of his dignity to stop himself from getting hard for the second time tonight. just the thought of you wanting to watch him, showing interest in the videos of him pleasuring himself has all the blood in his body rushing towards his cock, and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep pretending he’s fine with this.

“i’ve never watched them after filming them. i was there the first time… never felt like i needed to revisit it.” he doesn’t mention the real reason he doesn’t watch them is because he’s afraid to see what he looks like when he’s thinking about you— afraid to see how his body reacts in ways that it definitely shouldn’t be without your knowledge.

you bite your lip absentmindedly, looking up at him with an inviting expression. “first time for everything, right?” despite the confidence you’ve gained your voice still ends up coming out soft and shy, as if you’re afraid to admit how badly you want to see how this plays out.

jun’s face flushes as he tries to ignore the way his pants continue to grow tighter. “you wanna watch me? i mean— the video? together?” he’s honored… no, he’s more than honored. thousands of people watch his videos daily, yet the only one he cares about is sitting on his bed and smiling that pretty smile of yours at him.

he rests his palms on the edge of his bed frame, and you can’t help the way your eyes rake over his body in reaction. he’s tall and always has been, towering over you as long as you’ve known him, but he never seems to be aware of just how big he is. or maybe he is and just knows how to use it to his advantage. either way, you can’t hide the shiver running down your spine as he leans over the bed towards you.

he can feel his body tingling with anticipation as he takes a seat down anxiously beside you, your fingers hovering over the mousepad before you finally unpause the video. no going back now.

at first you think the sound isn’t working as you watch him adjust his position on the chair in silence, but when you hear the seat squeak you realize he’s just quiet. your palms are clammy as you keep your hands planted at your sides, waiting for the action to start. just the image of him naked is enough to send you into a spiral, but you force yourself to be patient, knowing there’s better things to come.

you try not to stare at him next to you, but it’s impossible with the way he keeps nonchalantly adjusting his sweats every few seconds. you can tell he’s trying not to let on how hard he is, but unfortunately for him you're way too hyper aware of yourself in this moment and nothing goes unnoticed.

your gaze stays glued to the screen as you watch the recording of jun leaning back in his chair, tentatively taking his cock into his hand with a soft sigh. you don’t notice that you’ve been holding your breath until he starts moving his hand up and down along his length, letting out a shaky sigh that matches the ones from his recording. your cheeks are burning but you can’t bring yourself to stop staring as he brushes his thumb across his leaking tip, smearing his precum around with his fingers.

the muscles in his thighs tense and he lets out a little whine, and it sends a shiver throughout your whole body. you can’t see his face on the video, but you’ve seen his expressions enough to get the picture, and it drives you wild. you need to see it close up, need to see those faces he makes and confirm the way you’ve imagined it.

but even with his beautiful, painfully hard cock right in front of you, you still can’t take your eyes off of the friendship bracelet tied around his wrist, watching as it brushes against his cock with every stroke of his fist. you wonder how long he’s been doing this, how long and you’d never realized. he’d never seemed like the type, but then again, you were learning a lot of things about your friend tonight.

you manage to pry your eyes away from the video but your gaze just ends up back on instead, sitting beside you with the same thin bracelet adorning his slender wrist. you squeeze your thighs together as you stare at it, willing yourself not to think about it, but when another broken and muffled moan comes out of the laptop speaker you can’t take it anymore.

you suddenly stop the video, pushing his computer off your lap and closing the screen. he jumps and looks at you, eyes wide with concern. you'd hated it, didn't you? you thought he was a loser and this was all such a bad idea and he should've pretended it never happened in the first place because now your friendship is ruined and—

"show me."

jun swears he stops breathing for a second. he must not have heard you clearly, but when he pulls his gaze up to meet yours he finds you staring back expectantly, a hint of a smile on your face and a look in your eyes that makes him want to pounce on you and never look back.

"what?" his voice comes out cracked. god, if you're saying what he thinks you are… he's never been this hard in his entire life, including all the times he's edged himself to the thought of you. there's no way in hell he isn't hallucinating right now, because the expression on your face is straight out of his dreams.

your wandering eyes flit down to his bulge. "i thought you said you did live shows."

your heart is pounding, fearing you've finally crossed that last forbidden line for good. who knows when you got so bold, but you couldn't handle watching another second of that video without doing something about it. despite his shyness you know he's enjoying this, with the way he keeps tugging at the hem of his shirt and struggling to hide his painfully obvious boner. it's not like you're doing any better yourself, and you wonder if he can feel the heat radiating off your body right now or if he's noticed the way you can't stop squirming.

you hadn't expected that hearing his breathy whimpers through the laptop's tinny speakers and watching his abs flex on the screen as he squeezes his hand around his cock would have such an effect on you, but it's hard not to when the star of the movie is sitting right beside you. you're afraid to even move, at risk of revealing the wet spot beneath you seeping into his sheets that he was so adamant earlier about being clean. well, you know one thing for sure— they won't be clean after tonight.

so, you clear your throat and choose your next words carefully this time, knowing exactly what you're asking for and hoping, praying it'll be reciprocated. "why would i wanna watch a video when i can see it in person?"

"fuck—" his voice is strained, and your stomach flips at the sudden low tone coming from his throat that you aren't used to hearing. "you want—”

"i wanna see you," you cut him off, jumping on the chance that he didn't immediately shut you down. you look pointedly at the bulge in his pants, making sure he sees you looking. "do you ever do private shows?" you feel the heat in your cheeks burning with shyness, but you press on, your voice soft. "you know… one on one?”

“no— yeah,” he says hurriedly. “i mean, i can now. for you. if you want.” he adds the last part like an afterthought, because even though you just straight out asked to watch him jerk off, he still can’t comprehend that you’re into this. that you, his best friend of all people, is this eager to see him.

your reply comes out choked with desperation, but he’s so lost in your reactions that you doubt he even notices the change in your tone. “please?”

with dazed eyes he nods, moving his hands down to the waistband of his pants, and it feels like time moves in slow motion as you strain your eyes for a glimpse.

your breath catches in your throat as you watch him push his sweatpants down just below his hips, freeing his cock. the thick veins on his hands that you're used to ogling in your free time are nothing compared to the veins that cover his length, and they’re nothing compared to the grainy video from his computer, either. you're so tempted to touch him, you have to physically restrain yourself from reaching over and wrapping your hand around him, to feel its weight in your palm and feel how hard he is.

he soaks up your reaction, his pride soaring at the way your mouth is practically watering for him. he makes sure you're watching, then pushes his sweatpants all the way off and leans back against the headboard of the bed, spreading his legs to get a more comfortable position before he starts.

“you gonna answer my question now?” you ask, your voice soft yet still teasing as he begins to drag his hand up and down his shaft slowly, pumping himself to full hardness as if he hadn't already been fully hard for the last hour.

the look in his eyes when he glances back up at you makes your heart jump, and suddenly the answer seems as clear as day. but you’re afraid to believe in it in case you’re still wrong about everything; even now as you kneel beside him on his bed, his eyes boring into yours as you watch him fist his cock, you can’t let yourself have hope that he feels the same about you. there’s been nothing to suggest that he does, besides the fact that he didn’t immediately throw you out of his house the second you found out about his alternative career.

he doesn’t answer for a long moment, and you feel your entire body growing hot under his gaze. for the second time tonight you feel stripped bare, despite the fact that you’re fully clothed and he’s the one half naked in front of you.

“are you sure you wanna hear the answer?” he says finally, and despite the way his voice comes out choked you can tell he’s just as nervous about this as you are. years of friendship changed by just one sentence, but whether it’ll be for better or for worse, you haven’t figured out yet.

you’re not sure if you really do, but you nod anyway, searching his eyes for any signs of hesitation. he groans softly, bucking his hips up a little into his fist as he opens his mouth to speak. you scoot closer to hear him, drawn to him like a magnet and your heart pounding as you wait for the words you so badly want to hear.

“right now?” he pauses. “i’m thinking about how bad i wanna kiss you.”

and after that it’s like a dam breaking apart, losing every bit of self control you’d worked so hard to maintain for so long as you press forward and meet his lips. his hands jump to your hips, instantly forgetting what he was doing as he gently tugs you onto his lap to get a better angle.

you slide your legs beneath you, straddling his lap with your knees on either side of his waist as your mouth slides against his. kissing him comes as naturally to you as breathing, almost immediately finding a rhythm with his nose pressed against your cheek.

he starts out slow, tentative, but as soon as you kiss him back he’s throwing his own self control to the wind and pulling you deeper into him. you can feel his aching cock pressing into your stomach, and it takes everything in you not to grind down on him and ease the throbbing between your legs.

you finally force yourself to pull away, taking in the sight of him. his cheeks are flushed and he’s panting, eyes darting back and forth between yours in questioning at your sudden pause. “is— is that all you think about?” you ask, but it comes out more like a whimper. if it were anyone else you’d be mortified at how worked up you’ve gotten in such a short time, but if anything jun looks worse than you do right now.

“i think about you every fucking time,” he admits breathlessly. as always, giving up his so-called trade secrets the second you ask, because he can’t hide anything. doesn’t want to hide anything from you. “can’t stop thinking about you, even when i try not to—”

“during your streams?”

“—especially during my streams.”

you push your hips down gently, feeling your soaked panties sticking uncomfortably to your folds at the movement, but it’s all worth it for the angelic moans that fall from his lips in return. “and earlier…?” you pry. you don’t know why you’re so full of questions tonight, but a part of you relishes in his praise and the way he so readily admits his thoughts to you.

he stifles another groan, his hands trailing haphazardly over your body like a kid in a candy store, as if he isn’t sure what to touch first but he does know that he wants to touch all of you. “earlier— got so hard thinking about you coming over, i couldn’t help it…” he squeezes his eyes shut as you reach up to rest your arms around his shoulders. “so fucking lucky that you’re my friend, i don’t deserve you.”

you brush your thumb against his cheek and his eyes shoot open, his hips stuttering beneath you in surprise. “why?” you ask softly. if anyone is undeserving of your friendship, it should be you, not him; the way he treats you like a queen, practically worshipping the ground you walk on and being the best friend you’ve ever had.

“‘cause—” he swallows hard and looks up at you, his fingers shaking a little as they wander across your hips. “fuck, the way i think about you… you’d never say yes to that.”

you smile softly, leaning closer to him until your mouths are just inches apart and you can feel his hot breath on your lips. “you never asked me.” you glance up at him expectantly, nodding your head to give him a chance to say what’s on his mind.

“can i—” he curses under his breath, his mind going haywire at even just the thought of you letting him have more of you. “can i kiss you again?”

and it’s such a genuine request that you have no choice but to indulge him, your lips parting to let him in. it’s a kiss that you feel in your entire body, from the hands that have moved to your back gently guiding you towards him, to the butterflies in your chest and much lower places. you want—no, you need all of him, all at once, need his hands and his cock and his sweet, sweet kisses.

you lean back and press your mouth against his neck instead, feeling his soft skin beneath your lips as you start to suck. he groans in response when you nip at the underside of his chin, beginning to suck harder until you bite down gently and lift your eyes to see his reaction.

suddenly he wraps his hand behind your neck and pulls your head up to meet him face to face, crashing his lips back against yours in a frantic battle of tongue and teeth, filled with a newfound desperation. his eyes are closed and brows furrowed as he kisses you, one hand on the back of your head guiding you into him.

you frantically paw at his shirt, struggling to keep yourself contained. "jun, please— let me see you."

he leans forward away from you and tears his shirt off over his head without so much as a word in reply, quickly settling back and meeting your lips once again. his mind is racing a mile a minute, so eager to give you whatever you want, whatever you ask for, whatever you need.

he's so caught up in pleasing you that the thought of asking you to take off your shirt in return doesn't even cross his mind; you could sit fully clothed on his lap for the rest of the night and he'd still be over the moon. but you do it anyway, just as eager to please him as he is for you. you pull your shirt off as fast as you can, whining in frustration when you tug too roughly and it gets caught in your hair for a half second. but you feel his hand slide up your back and help you, untangling it and balling the fabric in his fist, tossing it across the room before pulling you back to him.

you fall forward and catch yourself on the wall behind his head, forcing you to readjust your seat on his lap and cupping his cheeks with your hands to stabilize yourself. jun shifts his position as well, threading one arm around your waist and pulling you tighter against him. his palm on your skin makes you feel like you're on fire, his hand pressing gently but firmly against the bare skin of your hip.

you can feel his length resting between your bodies, still hard as ever and throbbing from so much stimulation yet so little of it being directed at where he wants it most. you start to rock your hips, slowly grinding against him and feeling your cunt pulse through the thin fabric of your panties, and you wonder if he can feel it, too.

if he does then he doesn’t mention it, too caught up in roaming his hands over your chest now that your shirt is out of the way. you feel shy, not used to so much attention from one person and especially not used to it coming from him. a part of you wishes you’d at least worn a prettier bra, but he doesn’t even seem to notice that it’s the old ratty one you wear around the house. in his eyes it might as well be made of solid gold, with the way he touches it so delicately and looks up at you in a frenzy, begging you to let him take it off.

his palms cup your breasts the second the fabric is on the floor, moaning unabashedly as he pushes his face into your chest. his tongue laves over your skin with his eyes closed in bliss, and he groans into your breast before he finally tears his mouth away from you, giving you both a second to breathe.

"please let me fuck you," he rasps, his arm still wrapped around your waist as he holds your body close to his. "fuck, please— god, i need you so bad. i'll take such good care of you, baby, please, just let me. i'll do whatever you want me to, please—"

you shiver at the desperation in his voice, and if he wasn't still cradling the back of your head in his palm you probably would've fallen backwards with a moan. even from the few minutes of his video that you'd managed to watch he didn't seem like much of a talker, so the way he rambles on and on begging for you feels like a breath of fresh air.

you waste no time in telling him yes, practically falling off his bed in your rush to stand up and strip the rest of your clothes off. he wraps his hand around his cock once more and begins to thrust shallowly into his fist as he watches you shimmy out of your pants, and you whimper at the sight that’s become so familiar over the past hour.

both finally naked, you start to reposition yourself on his lap, but in a split second he flips you over onto your back instead. you let out a yelp as he cages you in with his long limbs, his cock resting against your body as he hovers over you.

“please,” he pants, his expression pleading with you just as much as his words are. you don’t even know what he’s pleading for at this point but you nod quickly anyway, moaning out his name until he silences you with another hot kiss.

he sits back on his heels, kneeling between your legs as you spread them open wider for him. he forces himself to look away from your dripping pussy long enough to position himself at your entrance. there’s so much more he wants to do, so much he wants to try with you, but after dreaming about you for so long and now you’re finally here, he’s not sure he’ll last long enough to find out. another day, he tells himself as he lines up his cock. another time, if you’ll let him.

he looks up at you, waiting for you to give him a signal or to back out if you’ve changed your mind, but you meet his eyes and bite at your lip and give him the tiniest nod.

his hands are shaking as he guides himself into you, pushing just the tip inside and looking back up at you for confirmation before continuing.

by the time he’s halfway inside of you he has to squeeze his eyes shut as hard as he can, every muscle in his body concentrating on trying not to explode at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him. a million thoughts are running through his head and he can barely see straight at this point, his tunnel vision focused on you and only you. if he remembers only one thing from tonight, he wants it to be this sight right here: the image of your face scrunched up in pleasure, your mouth hanging open in a breathless moan as you clench wildly around his cock.

your hand grips his bicep impossibly tight as you adjust to his size, your fingers gradually relaxing as he continues to push into you until he bottoms out with a high pitched whine.

it takes a second for you to adjust, but as soon as you start begging him to move his body starts running on autopilot, his hips pistoning into you with more force than he knew he had in him. he’s stopped talking by now, almost completely silent except for the occasional groan and muttered curse.

you lift your legs to wrap them around his waist, pressing into his back with your heels to get him to thrust deeper until you fall apart in his arms with a cry, burying your face in his chest as your vision goes blank and the wind gets knocked out of your lungs.

he leans down over you, putting his hand between your head and the wall to stop you from being slammed into it from his thrusts as you crest into your orgasm. all you can do is hold on tightly to him, biting at his collarbone to stifle your noises as his eyes dart across your face, desperate to see how beautiful you look when you cum for him. for him, for only him, for your best friend who’s so in love with you it physically hurts.

what finally breaks him is the gentle way you reach up and hold his head with one hand, guiding him down to your lips to kiss you once more. your fingers tremble with aftershocks as you thread them into his hair, using his body to ground yourself as he fucks you into the mattress.

his hips stutter and he barely pulls out in time to cum all over your pussy, his cock twitching as he releases onto your skin with a broken moan. there’s nothing he wants more in this world than to cum inside you, but in his desperation he didn’t think to ask ahead of time, and even his last functioning brain cell isn’t going to let that happen without your permission.

your fingers untangle themselves from his hair, sliding to his neck and down to his chest as he heaves shallow breaths. he blinks rapidly, trying to reorient himself and calm his racing heart.

“jun?”

he barely hears you calling his name, but his head tilts down to look at you before he can process it. you’re just as much of a mess as he is, sweaty hair sticking to your forehead and his cum coating your lower half, your chest rising and falling as you struggle to catch your breath.

and just like that, the fog in his mind is cleared and he’s jumping into action. he’s gonna do what he always does, what he has to do: be there for you and do everything right, even when he has no idea what’s “right” anymore because he just fucked his best friend and the love of his life and that’s not usually what best friends do, so what does that make him now? he doesn’t know and he doesn’t care, but what he does care about is making sure you’re as comfortable as possible in this, probably the weirdest and most uncomfortable situation ever.

your fingers latch onto his wrist before he can get away, and he whips around with such a dumbfounded expression that you can’t help but laugh a little. “jun,” you repeat his name again, and this time it gets through to him and he pauses, eyes wide as he looks down at you.

“huh?”

“where are you going?”

“to…” he trails off, because he doesn’t actually know where he’s going, but his brain knows he has to do something. “uh, clean?”

you laugh. “god, i love you so much. just— c’mere.”

you tug on his wrist and he topples down onto you with a yelp, but you wrap your arms around him until he stops wiggling and just sits still against you.

your bodies are covered in sweat, sticking to each other as you hold him, but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in what must be years. “what are you so nervous for?” you ask him with a soft chuckle, pushing his hair out of his forehead.

“because…” he pauses again and looks up at you, worry clouding his gaze. “because you’re so perfect. and i don’t wanna mess this up.”

“you’re not going to, jun. promise.” you exhale and stroke his hair again. “if anything, i’m the one that messed things up. i shouldn’t have found out about your… you know.”

“can i say that i’m glad you did, or is that weird?” he asks with a breathy giggle.

your cheeks flush with heat, but you can’t disagree. “i’m glad too,” you admit, and the dopey grin on his face makes up for all the awkwardness ten times over.

you exhale slowly, finally feeling your body return to normal. you dread standing up—you’re not even sure if you’d be able to, after that—but for now it feels good to just lay here with jun’s head on your chest.

“so what about your channel?”

“i’ll delete it,” he rushes to say. “whatever you want me to do. i don’t care— i don’t want it anymore. all i want is you.”

you tuck a lock of hair behind his ear with a smile, feeling your cheeks glow from his praise. “well, i don’t want you to do that. all your loyal viewers will miss out on seeing you doing more than just jerking off alone.”

he raises an eyebrow at you, trying to understand if you mean what he thinks you mean. “like…?”

“like letting them watch you fuck your girlfriend?” you finish for him tentatively. even after everything tonight you still have doubts that you’ve misread his intentions, that maybe this is just a one-time thing to him and you don’t mean as much to him as he means to you.

he studies your face carefully. “is that what you are?” he asks hesitantly.

you nod slightly, the shyness from earlier suddenly rushing back in at the possibility of being rejected. “unless you didn’t want me to be.”

he shakes his head so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. “no— please. i do. so bad.”

you break out into a smile, cupping his face in your cheeks and leaning in to kiss his forehead. he hums, and the vibrations are warm against your chest . “you could’ve just asked me. like, years ago. would have avoided all the awkwardness of…”

“of you finding out i’m a porn star?”

you giggle, and he thinks it’s the most adorable sight he’s ever seen. lying naked in your arms together, making you laugh. “i thought you said you weren’t.”

he grins. “not really. but it makes me sound cooler when you say it.”

“i think you’re cool anyway, jun.”

he shifts and leans forward to capture your lips in his again, his mouth slow and tender as he kisses you this time. “i never wanna stop kissing you.”

you rub your thumbs across his cheeks, watching his fond expression that you know must be mirrored with your own. “then don’t.”

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youngsadlesbian · 3 months ago

Text

BORN FOR THIS

pairing: natasha romanoff x bucky barnes x daughter!reader

summary: growing up as the daughter of natasha romanoff and bucky barnes, you prove your brilliance and earn your place among the avengers.

a/n: it's been a long time since i wrote anything for buckynat x daughter!reader so here it is.

word count: 914

warnings: just fluffy <3

Being the daughter of two of the world’s most dangerous spies came with a lot of expectations. People assumed you’d be a perfect soldier, a flawless fighter, or maybe an expert in covert operations. But you were none of those things—at least, not in the way they expected.

Your mind was your greatest weapon.

It started with a Hydra firewall.

You were twelve, sitting in the Avengers Tower’s common room, absently hacking into a secure system while eating a bowl of cereal.

Steve, Bucky, and Natasha were sitting nearby, discussing an upcoming mission. They were stuck on a major issue: Hydra had encrypted files that could expose their newest operation, and no one—not even Tony—had been able to break through their security.

"FRIDAY, any progress?" Natasha asked, crossing her arms.

"Negative. Decryption process remains incomplete. Estimated time: seventy-two hours."

Bucky groaned. "We don’t have seventy-two hours."

You looked up from your tablet. "What are you trying to get into?"

"Classified," Natasha said automatically.

You rolled your eyes and turned the screen toward them. "You mean this?"

There was a long silence.

Steve nearly choked on his coffee. "How the hell—?"

Bucky snatched the tablet from your hands. Sure enough, the encrypted Hydra files were right there, already decrypted.

Natasha blinked. "You cracked the encryption?"

You shrugged. "It wasn’t that hard. They used a basic 256-bit cipher. Amateurs."

Tony chose that exact moment to walk in. "Hey, who’s been messing with my—" He froze as he saw what was on the screen. His face went through at least four different emotions before he turned to you, eyes wide. "Wait. Wait, wait. You cracked the Hydra encryption? The one I spent a week trying to get through?"

You nodded. "Yeah, but to be fair, they used a weak key. If you tweak the algorithm to—"

"Okay, nope. I refuse to be shown up by a twelve-year-old," Tony declared. "This is unacceptable."

Steve just stared at you. "How long did it take you?"

You tilted your head, thinking. "Maybe… ten minutes?"

Natasha looked genuinely impressed.

Bucky looked horrified.

Tony groaned. "I hate this. I hate this."

At fourteen, you had another brilliant (but completely ridiculous) idea.

The mission was in Madripoor. The Avengers needed to infiltrate a high-tech facility, but security was tight. No one could get past the biometric scanners without raising alarms.

The team spent hours brainstorming. Then you walked in, half-asleep, holding a bag of chips.

"Why don’t you just trigger a system-wide false alarm first?" you suggested between bites.

Everyone turned to look at you.

You chewed slowly. "I mean… if the whole system freaks out first, no one will notice when you actually break in. Hydra will think it's just another system malfunction."

Silence.

Bruce adjusted his glasses. "Technically, that could work."

"That’s insane," Clint muttered.

"It’s also brilliant," Natasha said.

Tony groaned. "Okay, fine. Let's try the kid’s dumb idea."

It worked.

And no one ever called your ideas dumb again.

By the time you were fifteen, it was clear that you weren’t just "the kid of two super-spies." You were an asset.

So when a mission required an undercover agent who could blend in as an ordinary teenager, you were the perfect candidate.

Natasha was against it.

"No. Absolutely not."

"Nat," Bucky sighed, "she’s the best option."

"She’s fifteen," Natasha snapped.

"She’s also better at this than half the team," Tony added. "I mean, let’s be real, she’s already saved our asses multiple times."

You sat there, watching as your parents debated your fate.

Finally, you crossed your arms. "You do realize I’m in the room, right?"

Natasha sighed, rubbing her temples. "You’re not ready for this."

You met her gaze, unwavering. "Yes, I am."

She studied you for a long moment. Then, finally, she nodded. "Fine. But if anything happens to you—"

Bucky cut in. "—we’ll burn the whole damn place down."

That was the only reassurance they needed.

The mission went too well.

You slipped in undetected, blending in as just another teenager at an elite school. You befriended the target’s daughter, gained access to restricted areas, and managed to get crucial intel without setting off a single alarm.

Everything was fine—until it wasn’t.

The second Hydra caught wind of an intruder, all hell broke loose.

Gunfire. Alarms. Agents swarming the building.

You could hear Natasha’s panicked voice over the comms. "Where is she?"

You didn’t have time to respond. You were already running.

A Hydra agent lunged at you, but you were faster. You ducked, disarmed him, and took him down before he could blink.

Natasha and Bucky reached you just in time to see it.

You turned to them, slightly out of breath. "Hi."

Natasha’s eyes flickered to the unconscious agent. "Did you—?"

"Yeah."

There was a beat of silence.

Then Bucky grinned. "That’s my girl."

Natasha sighed. "God help us all."

But you caught the tiny smirk she tried to hide.

After the mission, things changed.

No one treated you like a kid anymore. Not even Tony.

You had a seat at the table. You had a voice in the room. You were an Avenger.

And as you sat there, watching Natasha and Bucky exchange knowing glances, you realized—

This was where you were meant to be.

#bucky barnes x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #buckynat x reader #bucky barnes x natasha romanoff x reader #avengers #mcu #marvel

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piratesexmachine420 · 1 month ago

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It's a common misconception in the amateur Linux/Unix world that "Control C", AKA "intr" or "interrupt" (not to be confused with the CPU concept of an interrupt) is a keyboard shortcut. It isn't, really. Not ostensibly.

This all goes way back the very very early days of ASCII, when it was both a character set and a communications protocol. (Remember that the "II" stands for "Information Interchange".)]

ASCII defines a series of seven-bit codes, each of which has some fixed meaning. For the "printable" subset of these codes, we commonly describe this relationship as though a given code 'means' some character; but from the communications protocol point of view it's more like they 'mean' to print some character. i.e. 61h doesn't just mean 'a', it means "print 'a' and advance the cursor".

Actually, "cursor" is the wrong word to use here. We think of ASCII as something computers and only computers use, but this wasn't the case in the early days. ASCII is a telegraph code. Helpful for computers, yes, but built from the ground up to allow operators to control typewriters (teletypewriters, AKA TTYs) from across the world over the telegraph network.

That's why there are more than just printing codes. These are the "non-printing" or "control" codes, designed to control the typewriter on the other end. You're probably familiar with some of them: 20h, AKA "Space", which advances the type head but prints nothing; 0Dh, AKA "Carriage Return", which puts the type head back the start of the line; 0Ah, AKA "Line Feed", which advances the paper one line; and 09h, AKA "Tab", which advances the type head some configurable amount.

Some of them you're probably less familiar with. 07h is "Bell". It rings a bell on the receiving end, perhaps to wake them up and let 'em know a message is coming. There's 06h and 15h, Acknowledge and Negative Acknowledge. There's 01h, 02, 03h and 04 -- Start of Heading, Start of Text, End of Text, and End of Transmission. There are codes to turn on and off the receiver's peripherals like a tape punch recorder or reader. There are codes to delimit files and records. There's a backspace code! Everything you could want as a telegrapher in 1963.

We run into a problem when trying to type these control codes, though. By definition they don't really print anything, so what are we gonna put on the keys? Furthermore, there are a lot of control codes. Even if we figure out what should be on the keys it'll double the size of our typewriters to include them all! (I mean we can do it for some of 'em, like "Space" which already has a key, but "BEL"? "ACK"? "X-ON"?)

Fortunately, there's an existing solution to this kind of problem. Here's a picture of the keyboard of a Teletype Model 33, one of the first products to use ASCII, and it shows this solution:

See that "CTRL" key? Forget how you think it works.

Y'know how when you press "shift" on an old mechanical typewriter, it physically "shifts" the type basket down so you can use capital letters and punctuation marks? Like, shift-g isn't a "keyboard shortcut" for 'G" so much as "how you type 'G'". It selects between map layers, makes it so you don't need to have two keys for every letter.

Control does the same thing. Control-g is not a "keyboard shortcut" for ringing the bell, it's how you type "ring the bell".* Control-f is how you type "Acknowledge", control-s is how you type "turn off the tape reader", and so on and so on. All in the same way that shift-4 is how you type '$', and w is how you type 'w'.

So what's control-c? ^C is "End of Text". That's why it's used to end processes, alongside counterpart ^D "End of Transmission". You're not telling Linux you pressed "'control' and 'c'", you're telling you pressed "End of Text", and it knows "End of Text" means "end this process".†

If you take a look at the stty tool, you'll find that you can rebind some of these default actions. Maybe you want ^Y to be your interrupt instead of ^C. You can do that! Run stty intr ^Y in a terminal it'll do it. But you can't bind, say, control-9, because that's not a control character. Or control-., or control-page down, or "enter" on the numpad. The Linux line discipline has no idea what those are. It deals in characters, not keys.‡

That's why ^C isn't a keyboard shortcut.

*You'll commonly see these control characters transcribed with so-called "caret notation", where BEL is ^G, ACK is ^F, etc. The ^ means control, the letter indicates what key you'd press to type it.

†That's not to say that Linux interprets every control character like the spec says. ^W ("End of Transmission Block"), for example, is used for "word erase". Presumably because it starts with the letter 'w'. Under the hood it's still interpreting the keys you pressed as "End of Transmission Block", though.

‡You might wonder how the arrow keys work, then. You can think of them like macros. "Up" for example will type "^[[A" -- that's three characters, '^[' AKA "Escape", '[' AKA "Left Square Bracket", and 'A' AKA "Latin Capital Letter A". "Down" is "^[[B", "Right" is "^[[C", and "Left" is "^[[D". These work...sorta like printf formatting strings. '^[' tells Linux that next couple characters contain control information and not their usual meanings. Read more about this here.

#my thoughts #computers #programming

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facefullofsadness · 1 year ago

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psychopathic but it's okay

band!au (lsfm girlies but in a band and y/n is the 6th member)

guitarist!yunjin x bassist!y/n

prompt - you and yunjin are always arguing and after one argument, the latter has had it with you

content - smut (choking, degradation, overstimulation, slapping, handcuffs, cunnilingus, fingering, tribbing, multiple orgasms, jen kinda forces you into it), angst (harsh language, toxic, arguments, yelling), fluff if you squint hard

wc - 4405

author's note at the end :)

how many times just in this week have we argued already? I can't remember.

to say yunjin and I were toxic would be an understatement. it could be something wildly insignificant, but it wouldn't matter, we would be at each other's throats.

like last week when she told me to get the receipt for the takeout I ordered with kazuha and I forgot it. more like zuha did, but obviously, it was my fault because yunjin said it was.

and throughout this entire week we had been shouting at each other. any small inconvenience or misunderstanding, you name it, we argued about it. misplacing a hairbrush, accidentally eating someone's share, taking the wrong person's keys, showing up late to a meeting or practice. it was exhausting.

I can't even recall the last peaceful moment I had with this girl. it's been months of this dreadful and perpetual conflict that seemed to emerge out of nowhere, but it made me resent her in a way that I hated her guts.

I absolutely despise the way she thinks, her cocky attitude, her nonchalant responses, her dismissive demeanor, she drives me fucking insane.

which leads me to this moment, yelling at each other because she's playing ahead of the band.

"jen, play slower. you're fucking 2 seconds ahead of everyone else," I grumble, frustrated.

"oh whatever y/n, you try playing this shit. all you do is play the same bass line for 3 minutes straight," yunjin rolls her eyes back at me.

I close my eyes and bite my tongue, not wanting it to escalate, especially with the members around, "just play slower."

somehow, we moved on and all continued to practice. but this asshole never fixed her timing issue.

"yunjin, play slower!" I interrupt our practice again to yell at the girl.

she snaps her head at me, "fuck you y/n! I'm literally trying."

"but you're not though? because how are you still fucking off beat when we've been practicing this shit for weeks?!"

"oh my god, give me a break. you're so stuck up, sorry if I don't practice till the break of dawn everyday like you do. unlike you, I actually have a life, I don't have time to be a bratty perfectionist like you."

out of the corner of my eye, I see our youngest eunchae start to wanna speak up, but our leader chaewon stopping her from trying. with that, all the girls leave the room quietly as my blood boils at the words the raven-haired girl is throwing at me.

"I'm fucking stuck up? imagine having a career, THE dream job, and not even trying. you act like I don't have a goddamn life either jen, it's not my fault that I'm not lazy like you are."

the taller girl slings the guitar off her shoulder and aggressively puts it down before stomping up to me.

"I don't wanna hear your bossy mouth utter another word about my work ethic bitch. you're only so fussy about this because you don't have anything else in your life to look forward to."

"your sorry excuses are no use anymore yunjin. stop acting like you're the best when you're no better than an amateur, you're literally only here because there was no one else."

"did you want that to sting? sorry princess but that only works if it's the truth, we both know you all need me here. without me, you're nothing."

I clutch the strap of my bass and swing it off my body, immediately grabbing the collar of yunjin's shirt and pushing her back into the keyboard piano, making the stand shake.

"listen to me and listen fucking well. I can make you leave the band and you can act like it doesn't matter to you but I know you'll be devastated. I know you're just a scared little girl, too intimidated by the outside world to actually quit. you may not be scared of me which is why you don't try, but I'm exhausted of you trying to have power over me when you're just a weak sorry bitch who your parents are ashamed to care for anymore."

I struck it where it hurts because not only did I not care about if she would loathe me for my words, but I wanted it to.

suddenly, I'm being manhandled until my back falls against the couch in our practice room, yunjin's weight pressing me down. my hands struggle to push her off and break free, but her stronger grip grabs both of my wrists and pins them above my head against the arm rest of the sofa.

"fuck off of me jen!" I yell at her, body wriggling under her own.

her free hand suddenly takes hold of my neck and squeezes, forcing my throat to let out a struggled squeak and breath.

"shut the fuck up whore! I'm so tired of your yapping!" the girl above me growls and tightens her hold on both my wrists and neck.

I look up at her with fear growing in my eyes, and I can see the pure rage on her face. I'm incapable of moving my arms and hands free of her iron grip, and it steadily gets harder to breathe as I feel her nails, though short, dig into my skin.

"you're insufferable. you think I'm a weak sorry bitch with no power over you, huh? let me remind you otherwise since you're too braindead to remember how strong I am."

yunjin's gaze is wild. the fire in her eyes has no sign of calming and the clench in her jaw as she lowers her face towards mine doesn't release any tension. but as she nears herself and comes unfathomably close, there's no denying the lust that clouds her dilated pupils.

as my breathing becomes impossible and I get lightheaded, my senses increase and I can hear my own heart pounding in my ears. I can also hear her shaky breath and feel it reach my face. her knee in between my thighs presses against my core and I release a choked whimper.

"I'm gonna treat you like my own sex toy and you're gonna want me to fuck your brains out after I lay waste to your body. you are gonna be my fuck doll and you're gonna love every second of it, you hear me? dirty little slut."

I'm simultaneously terrified of the intensity and escalation of the situation, but I'm also unbelievably horny at this point. the ache in between my legs grows hot and I feel it start to throb with the way her knee digs deeper into my core.

"I can't..." I manage to choke out, pleading with the darting of my eyes focusing on her face and between her intense glare.

yunjin eventually releases tension on my throat, and I can breathe again, oxygen slowly enabling itself to run through my lungs again. the lustful stare never wavers, however, and both of our gazes are fixed on each other's eyes.

"I don't care if you can't take it, I'm gonna make you."

with that, she moves her hand, once choking my neck, and grasps around it, fingers clutching my nape, her head diving in to begin leaving sloppy kisses trailing my jaw downwards. the pressure on my airways is gone, but my breath still stops in my throat as her mouth kisses, sucks, and bites harshly at my neck.

"w-wait... don't do t-that..." I stutter, telling her to slow down or stop.

"shut the fuck up." she growls aggressively against my ear, "I'm gonna have you however I want."

there's no room for protest as I feel the hand on my neck trail down my collarbone and between my breasts, her finger circling around my right boob and going inwards, finally pinching the nipple at the middle.

"nghh.." the noise in my throat releases on its own.

"my little slut, so easy to use. why else wouldn't you wear a bra under such a mesh shirt? you wanted this so bad, didn't you?"

the treatment of my boobs and nipples harshens as she's suddenly slapping her hand against them, watching as they jiggle under my thin shirt. I yelp out in pain, still feeling my core rush with wetness.

"you're wearing too much," yunjin scoffs.

her hand pops open all the buttons of my shirt and fingers return to harassing my hard buds. my body struggles under her again as her tongue drags along my neck and across my collarbone, the sharp bites of her teeth occasionally making me tug at the harsh grip at my wrists again.

the noises of her mouth on my skin are so wet, I can even hear her heavy breathing and small moans escape, intensifying the pleasure building in my lower stomach. I can't help but release a deep groan at one of my abused nipples being enveloped by her needy mouth.

"f-fuck.. no, s-stop- ahhhh..." I try to get out.

my words are drowned out by the sounds of my whimpers growing louder and the slurping of my tit in her mouth. my eyes struggle to keep open, watching her tongue flick around my bud, yunjin switching to my other boob, repeating everything all the same.

"can you stop moving? god, I'm doing something here and your flailing is infuriating." she let's out a frustrated huff before detaching completely from my body, reaching for something underneath the couch.

my hands are free for a second before I feel cold steel capture my wrists, cuffing them together and securing them on a pipe against the wall.

"so much better." she states satisfied before bringing both her hands to slap both of the sides of my boobs.

I let out an unstable shout at the stinging pain that followed, and it only continued as she grasped at my chest with both hands and kneads at them needily.

"jen... please, ahhh.." I whimper out.

"huh? what was that y/n? you need to speak up for me." she continues her abuse on my tits as my eyes water.

"it hurts..." I manage.

"oh is that so? too bad I don't really care. after all, if I were weak, it wouldn't hurt so much right?" yunjin says in a mocking tone.

her hands become aggressive, dragging themselves down my body and grasping hard at my waist, squeezing my thighs, before landing a harsh slap on my ass, one side, then the next.

"yunjin ah! please! fuck, it hurts..."

"a powerless little girl like me shouldn't be able to harm you, right y/n-ie?"

fuck you huh yunjin.

my eyes are still squeezed shut as I feel her start to unbuckle my pants and zip them down, taking my jeans off of me. my core is absolutely throbbing with desire, panties soaked.

she places a finger at the hem of my underwear, dragging the digit down, trailing my mound, to my aching clit, through my leaking entrance, then pinching the material and letting it snap back into place, warranting a shiver down my spine at the feeling.

"I should've known a whore like you would be drenched after all that. you kick and whine about how much it hurts but look at how much you fucking love it."

it's hard to argue with her when the anticipation to feel her relieve my desire grows stronger the more she messes with me.

"don't worry darling, I'll ruin you perfectly."

I feel my panties get pushed to the side before a hot and wet muscle is felt at the base of my entrance trailing up slowly, until there's a hard suck at my bundle of nerves.

"fuckkkkk ahhhh!!!" I let out an involuntary scream at the feeling.

god it feels so good, my eyes squeezed shut as her onslaught of eating me out continues, hard and fast. she bends my knees and forces my legs apart, holding my thighs so she has free reign of my pussy.

"mmm, it's in the way," I hear her mumble before a loud tear is heard, assumedly from my panties.

I could care less when she sucks hard with her mouth over both my clit and hole, tongue darting between circling my bundle of nerves and digging into my pussy. I tug hard at my restraints, wanting so badly to grasp her luscious dark hair and push her into me.

my hips move on their own, trying to grind against her mouth, but they fail when yunjin's hands push my thighs apart again and she wraps her arms around them, hands on my waist. I force my eyes open and look down at her, what a sight.

her eyes are closed, and she looks peaceful. so unlike the rapid and desperate licking, sucking, and moaning coming out of her sinful mouth. the grip on my waist is firm but so gentle, her thumbs rubbing softly against my skin. she only takes a hand off of my waist to run fingers through her hair, pushing it back to have all the room she needs to indulge in my waterfall. yunjin definitely craved this more than me.

moans continued to slip out of my mouth, fueling her on.

"you're so delicious, this pussy is mine," I feel her mumble against my lips though still audible.

"fuck me jen, more more more, ahhh, yes, keep going just like that, oh my god!!!"

I was about to shut my eyes again until she looked up at me. through half lidded eyes, it almost looked like they were completely black, pupils so blown it was hard to tell if she was human. the desire was so fiery in her eyes and looking up at me only drew her in further, digging her face into my pussy.

her tongue dug impossibly deep into my hole, flicking wildly inside of me, making me arch my back in immense pleasure. her nose rubbing against my hot clit contributed to the build up of my impending climax.

the hold on my waist tightened, securing my hips down to the sofa, her eyes closed again as I shut my own as well, the noises coming from a mixture of my leaking pussy and her lewd slurping were indescribably orgasmic, the desperate moaning slipping from both of our mouths were borderline embarrassing if it weren't for our soundproof walls covering the sounds of sin.

"jennifer oh my god fuck fuck please, shit. b-baby... I'm, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum sosososo hard..." I rambled.

I heard as I continued to incoherently mumble anything that came to mind as I felt her grip on my waist start to hurt, nails digging into my skin, making my lower half impossible to move.

"give me your cum now, let me drink you," yunjin says with the sexiest most raspy voice I've heard from her.

a low moan from deep in her throat against my pussy vibrates against my clit, her tongue thrusting into my hole repeatedly at insane speeds. it was so overwhelming and more than enough to launch me over the edge.

my vision disappeared, my body shook viscerally, my mouth fell open and loud screaming came out of it as I orgasmed with so much pleasure. I felt my pussy gush cum into yunjin's expectant mouth, her tongue continuing to flail in me. I struggle hard against the restraints still, feeling my wrists sting with every tug. I can't think straight, my body shaking with every wave of pleasure that runs through me.

I fall limp, my head shaking left to right and mumbles coming out of my mouth. yunjin calms her pace and gives kitten licks up and down my slit, lapping up any other juices I released that she missed. her grip on my waist loosens, and they caress my sides carefully. she makes her way up to meet my face, planting abnormally soft kisses in her wake, her hands softly caressing my red skin. all the slap markings, all the bites, all the hickies, all the nail marks, spots red, spots bloody, her touch eases the pain.

"y/n..." she whispers against my ear, making me shiver.

I can't even open my eyes as the exhaustion hits me hard. I hear her mess with the pipe and cuffs around my wrists before I feel my hands fall against the arm rest again, freeing my arms finally. yunjin picks both of them up and places gentle pecks all around both wrists, slowly spreading her comfort across my entire body.

"jen..." a croak somehow comes out of my mouth.

"baby..." her voice, gentle...

"are you okay angel?" she whispers loud enough for me to hear.

my heart stops beating but resumes at the speed of sound after a moment.

I can't respond, and so she comes closer to my face and cups my cheek with a careful hand, intently observing my expression and condition. I feel her thumb softly caress my bottom lip and her stare fall onto my slightly open mouth.

"I.. I'm..." I can't form another word as the exhaustion catches up and my eyes fall shut.

every other sense of mine is alert, I'm still fully conscious, but my eyes refuse to open, they simply can't. I feel yunjin come closer to me then suddenly small kisses tracing my jaw, lips against my ear.

"you can rest y/n-ie, I'll do the rest."

wait, what?

her hand that was once on my face trails down my body, tracing over all the marks again, before her slender fingers slip between my folds, causing my entire body to jolt.

"jen?!" I shriek out, my hands flying to grip her arms.

"shhh, just relax. I told you already, you're just my little sex toy, I need to get my usage out of you."

fuck, I should've known she was feigning generosity.

I had no time to respond as after gathering enough of my cum from my last orgasm, yunjin swiftly slips two fingers into my tired cunt.

"FUCK!" I scream out.

my body reacts on its own, shaking against her warm body leaning against me.

"you've got another one in you, don't you?"

her pace picks up quickly, my pussy burning at the speed. suddenly, her thumb rubs harshly against my overstimulated clit, causing me to cry out.

"t-too much! please!" I sob into her shoulder.

yunjin's body hovers over mine, holding me close. one of my hands gripping her arm pumping in and out of me, the other clutching the back of her shirt, my face wet with tears flowing in her shoulder, melting into her neck.

"you should've thought about that before you talked shit huh?"

"I- I can't!"

"I already told you I don't fucking care y/n, how many times do I have to say it?"

I feel my own tears stain the taller girl's shirt as her fingers ram into my abused hole over and over again, pulling out all the way just to slam back into me again. I scream intensely when a third finger is added, immediately hitting that euphoric spot inside.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," I chant between every pump of her swift fingers.

"you truly make the perfect little cum slut don't you?"

"jen, ah, ah, ah, please, fuck..."

"what is it baby? feel it coming again?"

I moan out an incomprehensible 'yes' in response, to which I feel yunjin smile against my forehead, planting a sweet peck.

"beg me angel, beg me to keep fucking you until you cum."

my eyes roll back into my head, tears still spilling out and hands gripping for dear life. even if I wanted to beg, I don't think I'm physically capable.

her fingers still inside of me, stopping her movement on my pussy entirely, even on my clit. I whine loudly in response, legs shaking and grip tightening on her.

"no no please yunjin, I- I need you, I need you to keep fucking me. I need to finish, I need your fingers, I'm so close jinny, please please, god please let me cum. I can't, I can't take it, it hurts, it hurts so bad, jen oh god please, don't fucking stop. I need you to keep going, please don't stop now, please please jen-"

my rambling is interrupted by her fingers pounding into my cunt once again, with impossible speed, making my throat strain with another uncontrollable scream of pleasure.

"let it go, give it to me y/n. I want to feel it gush around me again, I need to feel your body fall apart."

and just as quickly as it started, it ended. an explosion of euphoria ripples through me again, I feel goosebumps form on my skin as I moan deafeningly, my fingers sinking into yunjin's body and holding on for dear life. her fingers continue to get sucked into me, clenching hard onto her long digits as she rubs my clit still.

"yes, that's my girl, give it all to me."

my body is shaking, with every subtle touch yunjin does to me, it reacts. my mouth stays open as I can feel the saliva drool out, my eyes barely open but it's no use, it's not like I can see anything clearly.

"your body is just meant for this y/n, I was right. my perfect little angel, the best fuck doll for me."

her fingers slip out of me and I grunt at the loss of fullness. out of the very small field of view I have, I watch as she sucks the juices off her fingers, closing her eyes and savoring the flavor, licking up each of them one by one.

"you're doing so well, but baby..." she leans in and mumbles against my lips, "give me one more."

there's no room for resistance as she moves to get into position. what a menace huh yunjin is. she already knows I'm fucked out of my mind that I'm physically incapable of doing anything. I've always been really sensitive and she's using that weakness against me ten fold.

I try my best to pay attention to what she's doing, watching as she slides her shorts and panties down her legs, the two articles of clothing absolutely soaked. she gets on top of me again and lifts one of my legs up, wrapping it around her waist, her straddling my pussy with her own, interlocking our legs.

"it's finally my turn. fuckkk..."

she moans out as she starts to grind her pussy against mine. every thrust makes my body jolt with overstimulation, I don't know how to take it anymore.

however, watching huh yunjin roll her hips against me, her hands placing my own on her waist, watching as she throws her head back and sweat drips down her long neck, my pleasure grows again. the woman looks ethereal riding me, using my body to get off, it's unreal how delectable watching her fuck me is.

"f-faster, h-harder, jen..." both of us look surprised when I manage to speak.

a sinister smirk crawls and spreads across the aforementioned woman's face, hands on my thighs tapping in approval, "of course darling, who am I to deny?"

and so she fucks me harder, so much harder. so much fucking faster. I immediately see stars and the squelching lewd noises of our sopping cunts fill my ears, accompanied by the pornographic moans from both of us. I feel the rhythmic pattern of yunjin's hips rolling against me with my hands on her waist.

I pull her forward against me, thrusting my own hips up into her, gaining leverage and screaming out in pleasure as our clits bump repeatedly because of this.

"fuck y/n! you're so good at this, don't... don't you dare give out on me right now, you feel too fucking incredible."

the girl above me has her head down facing my own, eyes screwed shut, face scrunched up looking focused, mouth hanging open. one of my hands feel up her body, trailing up her covered front and grazing her nipples, eliciting a groan to come from her throat. my hand cups her cheek and pulls her closer to my face, making her open her eyes and make eye contact with me.

we stare straight into each others' eyes, observing the expressions on our faces, memorizing the view forever. I hate this girl so much, I hate her with my entire being, but she's beautiful, she's goddess-like, and she's absolutely perfect in my trembling hands, looking into my eyes like I'm the only one in her world.

yunjin leans in to finally kiss me, plump and soft lips roughly clashing against my own. I desperately chase to reciprocate the passion she pushes into my mouth, forcing my tongue into her and ramming it down her throat, making her moan out. her mouth feels like heaven on earth as I melt into her delicious strawberry flavored lips, tongue and her saliva tasting like all the cum she sucked out of my cunt just moments prior.

her thrusts become sloppy and I feel my hole start to clench around nothing as we moan into each others' mouth.

"cum with me love, cum with me, please baby, I need you." her voice shaky and sounding vulnerable.

I open my eyes one last time to look up at her, eyes getting watery too. I take her bottom lip into my mouth and pull away with my teeth, letting it go with a pop.

"I'm cumming love, I'm cumming..." I warn her.

I pull her into me and hug her, embracing her tightly as she painfully grips my thighs, stilling her hips and feeling her warmth leak all over my pussy. I moan along with her, screaming out in blinding pleasure, my heat flooding both of our thighs and running down my legs, onto the couch under.

she collapses on top of me, her entire body weight covering me completely. I snuggle my face into her neck, placing soft kisses around every area I could reach.

"are you okay?" I ask softly into her ear.

I'm met with no response but soft breathing near my ear. I peer over to look at her face and she's out cold.

I giggle softly at the gorgeous woman sprawled out on top of me, legs intertwined, cum running down our legs, her lips bruised and red.

"I think I won this argument jennifer."

a/n - i'm just realizing that this barely had any actual band dynamics or anything and that makes me sad bc i love that shit so much. sob, oh well maybe another time (part???). my first idea for this concept was slow down by chase atlantic but then i switched it bc i feel like i could write a better plot for the lyric i orginally chose so stay tuned mayhaps in the future. anyways, hiiiii first post pls don't bully me tumblr is foreign land to me but writing is not though I haven't written in months 😙 enjoy first fic w my actual gf (like actually fr fr huh yunjin is my gf she proofread this-)

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veilosdaigoa · 8 days ago

Text

May DWC 2025 Day 4 - Dangerous

~ Last Year ~

It was supposed to be a quiet evening. Veilos had just finished his shift at the Shielded Mind clinic in Silvermoon, a hell of a day and he couldn’t remember the last time he got to sit down and relax. He was exhausted, body heavy, brain fogged, longing for a stiff drink and ten uninterrupted minutes in the bathtub. He got neither.

He hadn’t made it out of the Bazaar before the ambush. Rough hands, a hood over his head, and cuffs locked tight around his wrists with runes etched deep to dampen magic. His body ached from where they’d struck him, but they hadn’t broken anything. Not yet at least. Amateurs, maybe, or just overconfident.

When they yanked the hood off, the dim flicker of torchlight revealed a damp cellar: stone walls, rusted chains, and three men who looked like they’d walked straight out of a mercenary crew with too much time and too few scruples. The one in front, lean and sneering with a scar across his cheek, paced slowly like a predator trying to look casual.

“You’re Veilos Dai’goa,” the man said flatly.

“I was hoping for a better fan club,” Veilos muttered.

The leader didn’t smile. “You helped someone who shouldn’t have survive. A smuggler with a burned arm. My employer paid for silence, not recovery.”

Veilos gave a small shrug, lips cracked and dry. “I don’t ask who they are. I just stop the bleeding and patch ‘em up.” A quick punch caught him across the cheek. His head snapped sideways, the copper taste of blood flooding his mouth, but he stayed quiet.

“You’re going to tell us what he said. Where he went.”

Another strike to his ribs this time, Veilos exhaled sharply, but otherwise remained silent. If they thought a few hits were going to make him talk, they hadn’t done their research, because Veilos wasn’t just a healer.

He had always known there was something different about him. Even as a child, his words could quiet arguments, shift opinions, and ease panic. As he grew, so did the power behind them, along with erasing the need to have to speak the words aloud. It was more than persuasion, it was dominance. Most days, he didn’t use it, he didn’t need to and he knew he shouldn’t. There were rules and regulations set in place. But he was born with this magic, and when the moment called for it, he did not shy away from what he was.

The cuffs dulled some of his magic, he could feel that within, but this ability? It wasn’t something runes could cage so easily. His golden eyes, dulled by fatigue and pain, began to glow brighter and brighter. The leader stepped forward again, ready for another hit, but paused. Veilos lifted his head slowly, fixing his gaze on the man with a calm steadiness that cut through the tension like a knife.

“You’re afraid,” Veilos said, voice low but steady. Not a guess, a fact. “You’ve been afraid since the moment you laid eyes on me. You just didn’t understand why.”

The thug blinked, his posture faltering.

“You’re going to walk away,” Veilos continued, his voice frayed into something dissonant and raspy. “You’re going to open these cuffs. And you’re going to forget why you were ever angry.” There was really no need to speak aloud, but he wanted the other men to hear, and to see his orders followed without resistance.

The man’s pupils dilated, his hand twitched once. Then, in silence, he pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the restraints, dropping them to the floor with a soft clink. Veilos stood slowly, breath shallow. The other two hesitated, but one reached for a dagger. Veilos turned his eyes on him next.

“҉N҉҉o!”

The second man froze, his mouth slack, hand hovering midair like a puppet caught in indecision.

“I don’t need to hurt you,” Veilos growled. “But I will, and I will make you hurt yourselves if I must. You’ll sit. You’ll shut up. You’ll stay here and pray to whatever gods still pity you that I didn’t decide to end your miserable lives tonight. And you'll leave me alone.”

There wasn’t always the need for violence. This magic was part of him, ancient and instinctive, and he respected and controlled it. Honed it like a scalpel instead of a sword. He didn’t linger after they backed away in silence, leaving them dazed and blank-eyed in the shadows of their own fractured thoughts. Whatever memories they retained would feel like a dream, or a nightmare they couldn’t quite grasp.

Outside, Silvermoon’s midnight sky greeted him with its usual indifference. Veilos straightened his coat, ignoring the bruises already forming along his ribs, those could be dealt with later. He was dangerous, yes, but only when the situation called for it. And tonight, it had called loud and clear.

@daily-writing-challenge

#story #veilos #dwc2025 #maydwc2025 #wyrmrest accord

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supernova2205 · 7 months ago

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The Long Game

Chapter 5 semi-final

Summary: Tensions escalate as the team races to rescue their missing members, only to uncover a dangerous enemy pulling the strings. Trapped and outnumbered, survival becomes a deadly game where every choice carries a price—and betrayal lurks in the shadows.

Warning: Talks of violence

The blast had knocked the wind out of you, but the eerie silence afterward was worse. Dust clouded your vision, and the faint smell of smoke lingered as you struggled to orient yourself. Price’s voice was the first thing you registered, low but firm.

“On your feet, now.”

You coughed and blinked, his hand already pulling you up before you could respond. The ache in your side was sharp, but adrenaline shoved the pain aside.

“Are you hit?” he asked, his eyes scanning you for injuries.

“No, I’m good,” you lied, your voice hoarse.

He didn’t buy it, but there wasn’t time for an argument. The corridor ahead was barely intact, crumbling debris blocking the way you’d come. “We’re cut off,” Price muttered, glancing at the rubble. His expression darkened as he keyed his radio.

“Ghost, Soap, Gaz, do you copy?”

Static.

Price grimaced, slamming his radio against the wall. “Damn it.”

You adjusted your weapon, stepping closer. “We’re on our own, then?”

“For now.” His tone left no room for doubt. “Stay close and keep your eyes open. We’re not out of this yet.”

Elsewhere, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were pacing the extraction point, their movements tense and restless.

“They should’ve been here by now,” Soap said, glancing toward the horizon.

Gaz checked his watch for the third time, shaking his head. “Something’s wrong. They were farther ahead of us to just go radio silent like this.”

Ghost stood apart from the others, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on the direction you and Price had last been seen. “We’re not leaving without them,” he said, his voice low but resolute.

Soap frowned, his usual levity nowhere to be found. “We don’t even know where to start looking.”

Ghost turned to him, his tone razor-sharp. “We start where we lost them. Move out.”

You and Price moved cautiously through the ruins, the air heavy with tension. The facility had been abandoned for years, but the explosion had stirred something—or someone—awake.

“Feel like we’re being watched,” you muttered, gripping your rifle tighter.

Price nodded, his gaze darting to the shadows. “We are.”

A flicker of movement to your left made you freeze, and Price’s hand shot up, signaling you to stay quiet. The faint click of a safety being disengaged was all the warning you got before the first shot rang out.

“Cover!” Price barked, shoving you behind a metal beam as bullets tore through the air.

The firefight was chaotic, the attackers relentless and precise. These weren’t amateurs—they moved with calculated precision, forcing you and Price into a defensive position.

“Who the hell are these guys?” you shouted over the noise, your back pressed against the cold metal.

“Don’t know,” Price growled, reloading his weapon. “But they’re not here by accident.”

Just as you peeked out to fire, a sharp pain exploded at the back of your head, and the world went dark.

Soap and Gaz followed Ghost back into the wreckage, their movements careful but purposeful. The damage was extensive, the aftermath of the explosion making navigation difficult.

“You think they’re still in here?” Soap asked, his voice unusually quiet.

“They are,” Ghost said firmly.

“What makes you so sure?”

Ghost paused, kneeling to inspect a small object on the ground. He held it up—a bloodied knife, unmistakably yours. His grip tightened, and he stood without a word, his focus unwavering.

Gaz exhaled sharply. “We’ve gotta move fast.”

When you woke, your hands were bound, and a splitting headache pulsed at your temples. The room was dimly lit, and the faint sound of voices echoed from somewhere nearby.

Price was beside you, his head tilted forward as if he was unconscious. You nudged him with your shoulder. “Price,” you whispered urgently.

He stirred, groaning softly as he lifted his head. His face was bruised, a cut on his temple still bleeding. “You alright?” he asked, his voice rough.

“Could ask you the same,” you muttered.

Before either of you could say more, the door creaked open, and heavy boots entered the room. Your stomach twisted as the figure stepped into the light, their face unmistakable.

It was none other than General Shepherd, the man responsible for countless betrayals in the past. His presence here was impossible—and yet, there he stood, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.

“Well, isn’t this a sight?” Shepherd drawled, his voice calm but laced with menace. “Captain Price and his little protégé. I almost missed you two.”

Price’s expression hardened, his hands straining against his bindings. “Shepherd,” he spat. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

Shepherd chuckled, crouching in front of you. “Supposed to be, yes. But you know how hard I am to kill.”

He turned his attention to you, his gaze unsettling. “And you… You’re new to this little game, aren’t you? Shame you got caught up in it.”

“Go to hell,” you snapped, earning a sharp slap across the face.

“Careful,” Shepherd said, his tone icy. “You’ve got spirit. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

Back with the team, Ghost was unrelenting in his search. Every clue, every faint trail, he pursued with singular focus. Soap and Gaz followed, their determination matching his despite the growing tension.

“You’re pushing too hard,” Soap muttered as they moved through another corridor.

Ghost shot him a glare. “Not hard enough. We’re running out of time.”

Gaz stepped between them, his tone calm but firm. “Focus. They’re counting on us.”

They pressed on, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on their shoulders.

Hours blurred together as Shepherd’s men interrogated you and Price, their methods brutal and relentless. The room reeked of blood and sweat, and your body ached from the repeated blows.

“You’re wasting your time,” Price growled, his voice hoarse but unwavering. His words were met with another strike, but he refused to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Shepherd smirked from the corner of the room, watching the scene unfold with detached amusement. “You always were stubborn, John. I’d say it’s admirable, but really, it’s just pathetic at this point.”

“And you’re still a snake,” Price shot back, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“Call me what you like,” Shepherd replied, leaning against the wall. “But while you’re here playing the martyr, your team is walking straight into my trap.”

Your heart sank at his words, and you exchanged a glance with Price. Neither of you spoke, but the unspoken dread was clear in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz had tracked you and Price to an abandoned compound deep in the forest. The perimeter was heavily guarded, patrols moving in precise formations.

“Bloody fortress,” Soap muttered, lowering his binoculars.

Ghost stayed silent, his gaze fixed on the guards. His mind was racing, calculating the risks and weighing the odds.

“We’ll have to split up,” he finally said.

“That’s suicide,” Gaz argued.

“It’s the only way to cover ground quickly,” Ghost countered. “We don’t have time to play it safe.”

Soap sighed, his usual humor nowhere to be found. “Fine. But if we screw this up…”

“We won’t,” Ghost interrupted. His tone left no room for debate.

Inside the compound, Shepherd received a report from one of his men. His smirk widened as he turned back to you and Price.

“They’re here,” he said casually, as if discussing the weather. “Right on schedule.”

Price tensed, his muscles coiled like a spring. “If you hurt them—”

“What?” Shepherd interrupted, stepping closer. “You’ll stop me? From where you’re sitting, John, you’re in no position to make threats.”

He crouched in front of you, his expression darkening. “And you… You’ve got a choice to make. Help me bring your team to their knees, or watch them die one by one. Starting with him.” He nodded toward Price.

You glared at him, your resolve hardening. “Go to hell.”

Shepherd’s smile faded, replaced by cold fury. “Wrong answer.”

Outside the compound, Ghost led the team closer, their movements silent and precise. They’d taken out a few guards without raising the alarm, but the tension was suffocating.

As they approached the main building, Ghost stopped suddenly, his hand signaling for the others to freeze. He’d spotted something—a faint light flickering in one of the upper windows.

“That’s them,” he said quietly, his voice like steel.

“Are we going in loud or quiet?” Soap whispered.

Ghost’s grip tightened on his weapon. “We go in smart. And we don’t leave without them.”

Back at the compound Shepherd gives an order, his voice calm but deadly: “Bring them to me. Alive. For now.”

At the same time, Ghost and the team breach the compound, the sound of gunfire erupting as chaos unfolds.

To be continued…

Authors note: omg naurrrr what’s going on guys you don’t know how many times I’ve rewritten this chapter and I’m still considering rewriting it again let me know what you think and get ready for the final chapters

#Sheppard #soap mw2 #captain price #cod 141 #ghost #gaz cod #light angst #task force 141 #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod #cod mw3 #poly 141 #tf 141 x you

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splinterofpandora · 2 months ago

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High Volume: Year One. Part Two. Animation

After the fall of the DCAU monopoly era, the universe leisurely began to find itself. The first successful attempts at the TV format came immediately. The rest had to wait...

Experimental pilots, specials and YouTube shorts showed themselves well all the following years. Success came in the early 2010s. At that point, there were already many original projects that the public liked. There were also adaptations, none of which clearly followed the lines of the comics.

Batman: Year One was the first literal porting of the comics to the screens unaltered form.

Small additions the project has allowed itself. It's about tone, individual visual decisions, a couple of extra scenes. Take a look at some of them.

1. Without an artist.

The stylistics, the way individual scenes work, was changed for the sake of preserving the cinematic foundation. In the cartoon, Bruce's rebirth uses silent narration. It's the conversation in terms of sounds and pain. An atmosphere of global hopelessness, at the end of which Batman, as in the original, doesn't feel like a light, a real salvation, but an opportunity...to overcome this horrible world. Turn into the monster that Gotham deserves.

Or remember the beating scene?

In time, Jim comes back for Flass for revenge. This is one of the key points of the whole plot. Miller shows the build-up of tension mostly through internal monologue. But there's also a lot of drawing, because you see that absolutely all the blows - they're very strong - are delivered by Gordon.

In the cartoon this is achieved by, firstly, a greater emphasis on tracking and chasing (literally a whole scene) Flass, which Jim is not typical. Secondly, the length of the scenes. Because they literally give a whole 10 seconds to Jim hitting a man lying down.

They don't use new introductions. They're just doing what will work best in the movie.

2. Another tone.

The boarder between points 1 and 3. On the one hand, it's just as much a dystopian tale of salvation and personality deformation. At the same time, you can find Bruce foolishly losing to teenagers here. In the comic, it's more of an emphasis on inexperience combined with a city that seeks to kill you in any way it can. The focus is on Wayne's opponents. It isn't that he lost to the kids. The problem is that he has to fight the kids.

In the cartoon, it's about the difficulty of the battle. You can see how hard he tries, but every action ends in defeat. And he ends this whole silent battle on one word — amateur.

3. Why did you choose the Light?

Remember the hostage scene?

He experiences the events deeply, but does not fully realize that he is a part of them.

In the cartoon, Gordon doesn't just do his job, but has a long walk to the apartment where every misstep could be the girl's last.

Then he walks over to them. Smiles and gives them gum. So much Goodness!

It was 2011. The year Wayne had already realized that he didn't have to be only the Dark knight. A strong family, many different characters within the Batverse. The approach has changed again, resulting in a completely different style of story. That's why Jim gives more hope. That's why Bruce, already used to the madness of Gotham, hates his weakness. This is a completely new time. New interpretation.

By the way. They added more motivation for some moments. My favorite example is meeting Holly Robinson. She is hurt, however in the comics the attitude towards the girl by her “boss” is more about words.

In the movie, she screams in a very painful way. Plus in the voices, globally, it's very easy to feel the conflict. Oh, and the pain.

You can find the heaviness of the impact force here. Every blow, shot, explosion is a wild picture in your mind. God, even the light setting. It isn't smart visual. But it works.

And let's not forget the most important thing. This is a critical success. It's not just for fans. It's for the general public. It sold really well. Because of this success, the world saw the next close, in terms of approach, adaptation. Two-part TDKR movie

Beware, my Knight! The final text is near!

#Dark Knight #DC comics #Batman #batman year one #DC #Batman Year One movie #Bruce Wayne #DC Animation #ben mckenzie #Gotham

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vilz · 1 year ago

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hello obviously there isn't anything i can really do to control this (unfortunately i deleted a bunch of posts BEFORE turning off reblogs on them) but i would prefer that people did not circulate my posts from this blog any more... i appreciate that people are kind to me about my art, but that is just my request i suppose. this blog is unprivated now, and if you'd like to see what is still up you can look at them here. my ask box is also open but i will not be making any art posts here from now on. here is a little preemptive faq:

why did you leave?

i didn't feel comfortable or happy posting on this blog any more!

do you still make art? do you post it somewhere else?

yes. but i've been pulling away from posting very much online, and the things i'm interested in drawing nowadays are generally more private, so i won't be directing anyone there or anything. i don't consider my new blog to be a continuation of this one.

i know your new blog!

that isn't really that surprising since i didn't honestly put great effort into concealing it or anything. we are probably not friends, so i hold no sway over you, but i would still prefer you did not share it or treat me as if i am still "vilz who posts fnaf art". i'm just a whatever blogger who blogs about whatever things. also to be frank i do not think my new blog has anything that interesting for people who followed for the kind of art i used to post here. this is not an invitation to say "it is interesting!".

we are friends!

if we have not been in direct, mutual conversations i highly doubt that. i'm sorry if that hurts anyone's feelings.

why did you delete all your self ship art?

people seem to enjoy my self ship art a lot, which is very flattering, but i don't want people to be looking at them any more. i realize that they are still rebloggable and are still circulating around, which is nobody's fault but my own, but i would prefer they were not shared any more. i can't really do anything about it and i also don't blame anyone for reblogging those posts since it's obviously not something they would know, but yeah.

i saw your art on pinterest!

i did not and do not consent to my works being put on pinterest. the art from "vilz" has not been uploaded by me to any other website besides tumblr. if someone is posting my art from here on a different platform, they are doing so without permission.

i saw you on magma!

i still join magma boards sometimes lol. it's a fun site.

what about your ocs?

they are still my ocs. sometimes i still draw them. currently, i do not have any plans of posting my oc art online ever again. i would prefer that people did not reblog the oc art i have posted to this blog.

what about your fics?

all of my fics are still up on ao3 anonymously. they are: small mercies obscura floriography baying of lambs scrape bitch, bastard, bullshit almost human a dream, recurring countdown i'm very flattered and happy that people have left kind comments on these. thank you very much for reading the words of an amateur and for sharing an experience with me.

are you going to finish your uncompleted fics?

i would really like to say yes, because i care a great deal about aspects of them, but it's looking pretty unlikely. i lost all my files (and my calmlywriter key !!! always save your emails and receipts, everyone!!!) and also it's hard to feel motivated about them now. i guess i will leave this up in the air just to soothe my own feelings but in reality the answer is Probably Not.

are you going to post new fics?

i might, because i've been in a writing mood lately, but please don't expect anything. if i do, they will be anonymous on ao3. i will not post about them here or on any other blog.

i really liked your posts and blog!

thank you. i'm glad that people could feel that way about the things i made and thought about stuff i care about. irregardless, i would prefer that people did not share my old posts from this blog.

i will do it anyway.

i cannot stop you, so there isn't really any point in pleading. i just thought i'd make a little info post for people who are inquiring. after this, there won't be any "posts" from me. if there are relevant questions or messages i might reply to them or just update this post.

thank you for reading and for enjoying my blog. goodbye !!!

#this has been a missive from ur friend valentine #sincere regards #vilz

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homestuckreplay · 1 year ago

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Violin Concerto in the Key of Meteor Strike: Who Is Rose Lalonde?

Character Deep Dive 2 - 6/2/2009

Homestuck’s narrator formally introduced us to John Egbert right as the comic opened, but our getting to know Rose Lalonde has been slower and more natural. From her earliest conversation with John on p.63, to her becoming a ‘playable character’ of the comic on p.139 when she and John begin playing Sburb, to our switch to following her in person actions on p.214, we already knew a lot about Rose before we had her name and list of interests. She’s just as weird as John but with a spooky gray filter applied, she’s a regular kid who will probably summon a demon, she’s an absolute control freak who’s still kind of a failure at video games, and she is our second Main Character, set up as a contrast to John as well as a friend.

Much like with John, I’ve used Rose’s list of interests to group the information we know about her, and to discuss her relationship with the other characters and with some themes of the comic so far.

Essay below the cut - about 3.6k words.

Quiz here - 13 multiple choice questions.

1. You have a passion for RATHER OBSCURE LITERATURE.

If this was the first thing we learned about Rose, I might see her very differently. I’d definitely take her more seriously. But I saw her destroy the plumbing and put the bunny back in the box, so learning this now comes off very differently.

With John’s ‘passion for REALLY TERRIBLE MOVIES’, we were given posters to illustrate his taste, and based just on critical reception, ‘really terrible’ is a huge oversimplification. So we know that the narration isn't completely objective, and we know from other clues that Rose's interests in psychoanalysis and games are fairly surface level, which makes it an easy leap to ‘Rose reads a lot of HP Lovecraft and thinks of that as way more obscure than it is because she’s 13 and gets book recommendations from forums’.

There are two posters on the left of Rose’s wall that could be book characters - they look like amateur art of regular, non-tentacled people. I wonder if they were birthday presents from one of her friends, whether it’s John or TG sending her original concept art made by the author of a book she likes, or fanart if one of her friends is a visual artist (GG, perhaps?)

John not only loves movies, but imagines himself in their stories (for example, p.223) and the things that happen to him reflect his movies in response. Without any specific titles, it’s hard to say if the same is true for Rose - but if so, it raises questions of genre. John’s story has been lighthearted action-comedy with darker themes below the surface, light fantasy and countdowns leading to an explosion that’s almost comically absurd even while it has our hearts racing. Rose’s story is already darker both in literal color and in tone. Her inventory system is still terrible but she uses it more pragmatically and she’s far more skillful about skulking around her own house. This, the design of her house, and the sudden flashes of lightning illuminating the sky red or revealing a shadowed figure give her story a survival horror feel. If that’s her taste in literature, it would make sense that she’d imagine herself in that type of story.

2. You enjoy creative writing and are SOMEWHAT SECRETIVE ABOUT IT.

Where a normal person might say ‘hey I heard you got the sburb beta’, Rose Lalonde says ‘I understand you have recently come into possession of the beta release of "The Game of the Year", as featured in respectable periodicals such as GameBro Magazine’ (p.63). It’s the first thing we hear from her, so we learn immediately that she likes the sound of her own voice. She’s the only kid in her friend group who uses perfect capitalization and grammar in her messages, and she criticizes game walkthroughs as ‘horrendously written’, suggesting a focus on the technical aspects of writing.

Her creative interest is seen in ‘I think I will write my own walkthrough’ (p.204) where she moves beyond criticism and at least believes she could make something better, and ‘It’s not especially practical. But I think they are elegant’ (p.154) which shows an interest in the style and aesthetics of things. We also get great glimpses of her prose in lines like ‘Its lurid glare has moved on to younger timezones’ (p.174) - I can imagine Rose writing fanciful mood and setting pieces that focus on description over dialog.

In her eccentric verbosity, Rose’s character voice is more similar to the narrator’s than any other character’s is. The narrative text on p.82, for example, feels more comfortable in itself than Rose’s messages do, but it’s not a million miles away. I’ll come back to Rose as a narrator figure in the section on knitting, somehow.

Rose is not only secretive about her creative writing, she’s secretive in general. On page 164, she tells John not to investigate after she rips out his toilet. She asks him for ‘space’ to fix it and sends him away, and clearly prefers to work unobserved especially when she’s uncertain. She also shuffles her purple package into the closet (p.218) and her writing journals under her bed (p.220) when she feels the narration’s scrutiny. The narrator states ‘You would only resort to such an embarrassing activity while no one was watching’. Rose is clearly ashamed of some of her interests and personality, and hides a lot of herself from observers to make herself seem cooler and more mysterious than she is.

(I have to note that this does not work, at least not where her friends are concerned. Before we hear from Rose directly, we learn about her from TG, who says ‘maybe you can play with TT shes been pestering me all day about it. shes mackin on me so hard all the time i start to feel embarrassed for her’. Definitely not the way she’d want to be introduced to a mass audience).

3. You have a fondness for the BESTIALLY STRANGE AND FICTITIOUS, [...]

The 'bestially strange and fictitious' is what's being referenced in the tentacle of tentacleTherapist, not an innocuous interest in marine life. This is one of her shared interests with John, who apparently liked paranormal lore. It's interesting that these beasts are 'fictitious' according to the narration, but Rose's grimoire is specifically for 'summoning' the zoologically dubious, not just learning about them. This positions Rose as a more active character than John (summoning instead of learning lore) and as someone who has grand designs and fringe beliefs - kind of an Ellie Arroway in Contact figure.

I've talked about Rose and John as scientists based on their chumhandles, versus TG and GG as religious. We now know that Rose lives next door to an impressive sized lab broadcasting from an antenna. Depending on how good their security systems are, she might have explored here, or at least peered through the windows at the strange, unethical science experiments they're surely doing (aka the extremely routine lab work that she's interpreting as mad science). Growing up with scientists as her only neighbors might have inspired this interest and got her started on weird experimentation of her own. As it's unlikely she has formal training beyond middle school, it makes sense she'd be into weird tentacles in jars instead of a more academically accepted field.

I've been wondering how many of Rose's interests are from childhood and how many go further back. The cuddly Cthulhu plush and the very cartoonish monster on her shirt suggest this was a childhood interest, even if the specific monsters she likes have changed over time - some of her more unsettling posters might be recent additions. We don't know enough about her mom's parenting style to guess if she was mostly unsupervised on the internet and able to look at horror from a young age, or if she was held back from something she had an interest in until her mom felt like she was old enough, and how that might have impacted her either way.

4. [...] and sometimes dabble in PSYCHOANALYSIS.

This is the 'therapist' half of Rose's chumhandle, and the easiest interest to guess based on her early appearances. Psychoanalysis, to Rose, appears to be the idea of knowing people better than they know themselves and guessing their underlying motivations and thought processes - therapy through telling people what's going on in their head instead of talking it through with someone. From what we've seen so far, the vibe is 'she's read Freud's Wikipedia page and cares more about putting her basic knowledge into action than reading more theory'.

In Rose's first chatlog on p.63, she accuses John, 'You're wearing one of your disguises now, aren't you? You are typing to me right now while wearing something ridiculous.' She says this right after John mentions going to get the Sburb beta from his dad - 'mom' and 'dad' are activation words to someone with an amateur interest in Freud, and she's immediately putting herself in John's head and making assumptions about his life. (She's right, but probably only because they're already good friends).

On p.160 she tries to pull a similar move, saying 'Is this how your pent-up frustration with your father manifests itself?' and John shuts her down. But in her efforts to analyze other people, she tells on herself more than she wants to - her previous message was 'I am not sensing a lot of regard for the personal property of others' and considering this message comes as she throws John's personal property around his house, leaving his things on the roof and in the backyard, I'm going to call this one projection.

Rose's only direct statement about her mom is on p.174 - 'I'd rather not risk an encounter with my mother. I battled through her cloud of gin and derision once already this evening.' In this same pesterlog she compares her situation to John's, suggesting that she thinks John's situation of 'cake, jesters, unfaltering love and support' isn't really that bad. While she's not wrong, it's a very unproductive thing for a so-called therapist to say, and it shows a lack of self awareness - Rose seems like she would hate being coddled with cake and having a business clown cramping her goth style.

I really think Rose is more of a lab scientist than a therapist, but being able to perfectly understand and predict people is such a helpful skill for someone who is insecure and wants to project an image - if you can understand how someone thinks, you can influence what they think. She definitely wants to control how she's perceived, and likes to have information in general (see: immediately looking up GameFAQs when she couldn't figure out Sburb right away). Psychoanalysis is also used in literary criticism, so it's also possible that she uses this to advance her creative writing, if she's open to any kind of self reflection.

5. You also like to KNIT, [...]

Knitting stands out from Rose's more esoteric and highbrow hobbies. It's not something we've seen her mention, but her sweaters, scarves, socks and hats scattered on her floor look finished, so she has skill and commitment (but lacks a good storage space). I bet she knits while listening to audiobooks. It's a hobby that needs some perfectionism and attention to detail, which seem like traits Rose prizes even if she doesn't possess them (see p.170 where Rose reveals that she placed the Cruxtruder without rotating the room to check if she was in the way of the door).

Rose calls her shot about Sburb's punch card alchemy on p.157, and doesn't confess to reading walkthroughs until p.178. While it's possible she was reading them sooner, it's also possible that she's familiar with punch card knitting, maybe even has a knitting machine somewhere in the house. Knitting is fundamentally the same principle as (punch card) alchemy - taking an abstract image or code laid out on a 2D card, and using it to generate a physical object. The totem lathe and alchemiter could function similarly to a knitting machine, using build grist or cruxite instead of wool, but creating patterns in similar ways.

Following this logic, knitting is a generative hobby, as is creative writing. Rose makes things in a way that John really doesn't (he's clearly never finished coding anything) and has been doing so before playing Sburb. It's interesting to associate her with creation in light of her underlying god complex. Frankenstein is another 'obscure' book Rose has probably read and loved. She is a Dr Frankenstein type of scientist, she is going to knit Fluthlu and bring them to life. The Sburb server player is such a godlike role, and she slides into it so naturally, immediately taking full control and giving orders.

When she's the player character but we haven't seen her yet (p.139-201), she feels like an invisible but omnipresent narrator one layer below the actual narrator, a watchful presence that John can't escape. On p.145 she tries to select John with the Sburb cursor. It doesn't work, but what the hell was she going to do if it did? Drop him outside? I keep coming back to how she seems aware she's being watched by the narrator on p.218 and p.220, in the same way that John knows he's being watched by Rose (but doesn't seem aware of the narrator, despite reacting to their commands). Is it possible, even, that she's (consciously or unconsciously) trying to emulate the narrative voice with her messages in her efforts to take on a similar role?

Her conversation with John on p.204 is fascinating. John tells her there's a meteor heading for his house, and her response is 'I see'. She stays cool and collected and completely unattached throughout the conversation, trying to solve the problem through citing GameFAQs, talking about how much smarter she is than other people, and refusing to compromise on her incessant use of inconveniently elongated words. She fits the stereotype of the Objective Intellectual scientist so well, too concerned with what's possible to care about its fallout, taking notes on John's reactions in her lab notebook while feeling no emotions about the whole thing. It sure is interesting that a video game might be able to cause a meteor strike. Sure would be an intellectual exercise to figure out how to stop that. She is so perfectly above it all.

6. [...] and your room is a BIT OF A MESS.

I never realized John was neat until we had Rose, who definitely isn't. On p.160, she says she's 'tempted' to clean up the mess in John's toilet for him, but everything she does actually makes his bathroom worse. We've actually seen John clean (p.67) and the only out of place things in his room on p.4 are things his dad left there, if we assume that Dad left the hammer and nails for John to hang the painting. All his mess comes from accidental sylladex misuse - he even makes his bed. Rose will simply leave an expensive violin balanced precariously against the wall, drop a pre-punched card on the living room floor instead of placing it on the coffee table, and fail to return John's magic chest to his room even after she's 'got a feel for the controls' (although this last one could be her being silly on purpose). I can't decide if Rose is being an asshole by leaving John's house in a complete state or if she's just Like That and doesn't even notice.

Rose has an inventory system that she knows how to use, so it's easier for someone to be clean if they want to be. Maybe she just doesn't. The rest of Rose's house is empty besides dope ass wizards - on p.230-235 we see that Rose's house is filled with long, expansive corridors, has at least three floors, and is large and modernist with strange towers and extensions and bubbles. If Rose's mom is minimalist and Rose feels like her house is missing something, of course she would expand to fill that space, with her physical possessions as well as her personality.

7. And on occasion, if just the right one strikes your fancy, you like to play VIDEO GAMES with your friends.

John has a poster of the Problem Sleuth heroes on his bedroom wall, as well as a copy of the game, and Rose has a poster of the Problem Sleuth beasts and demons. It would be cute as hell if they played it together. Rose playing a video game has been most of what we've seen of her so far, so I've kind of covered that in other points - I want to talk about the 'with your friends' part, and specifically, how she and John met.

They seem so different, and based on Rose's strong reaction to the intelligence of GameFAQs writers, if she just encountered John on a forum she would not give him the time of day. John definitely isn't stupid, but I think he can come off that way in a first interaction, and I think Rose makes quick judgements about people. John can definitely banter with Rose - my favorite early interaction of theirs is 'TT: Can a disorder also be a complex? EB: in your case, probably!' (p.160) - so all it would take is getting over the initial hurdle of starting a conversation. So I have three theories.

The first is that they did meet on a forum, and John was just so charming in his silliness that Rose eventually warmed on him. Maybe John got stuck on the loading screen of a game and couldn't figure out how to press start and Rose helped him out and John just kept liveblogging his game in the thread. Maybe John asked a question about Slimer from Ghostbusters on a cryptozoology forum and Rose gave him a weirdly anatomically detailed answer that referenced a worrying home use of concentrated sulfuric acid. Maybe Rose posted some of her writing online and John left a glowing comment.

The second is that they met through TG. He seems to have a fair bit in common with both of them - on the surface, more than they do with each other. He could have noticed one of their shared interests and put them in contact, or he could have been trying to fuck with them by setting them up to hate each other and it backfired. Either feels plausible from what we've seen of him so far.

The third is that Rose just used to be different. John has the childlike spirit of the clown and I get the sense that he's always been the same, whimsical on the outside with a malaise hovering within. But Rose is trying to put on such a sophisticated affect, which could be recent. Rose could have been bubbly, accepting and open to talking to anyone a few years ago. She's changed as a person, but stays loyal enough to her friends to brave the evil red storm for them.

Final Thoughts

I find Rose easier to analyze than John - she's not less complex, but her complexities are made more obvious in the text. We also don't get the luxury of sitting with Rose and learning about her organically like we did with John. The meteor countdown is flashing in my mind even when it isn't on screen, and the text needs to take shortcuts, telling us about Rose instead of just showing her. As such, I don't have as many questions hanging as I usually do, but there's still a few.

What's up with both John and Rose being really talented at music, but this not being listed in their interests or directly acknowledged by the narrator? Does the narrator fucking hate music? The narrator of a webcomic which has so far included five original music tracks??

Is Rose consciously aware of the narration? Is it something that just began for her when we saw her, or has that been part of her life before? Is this why her personality is so cultivated, because she feels like she's always being watched?

What exactly is Rose's relationship with her mom? Is her mom a mean alcoholic who mocks Rose's grief over her cat, or is this a story Rose is telling herself about her very average mom?

Is Rose a weird kid who actually has a pretty normal life, like John, or is her life weird for real? Does she live in a massive haunted house or are we getting her exaggerated perspective?

More broadly, what sources of information in Homestuck are reliable? The narration and chatlogs are both biased perspectives, but what about the images? Are we seeing the characters' worlds as they actually are, or are we seeing things as the point of view character perceives them?

I love Rose. She and John have both been really easy to connect to, are extremely likeable, and feel like real people I could run into on the internet. I love how average they seem and how they really have more flaws than strengths - it adds to the realism, and sets them up with a lot of cool options for story arcs. A Rose who's a loser and kind of sucks is so much better to me than a Rose who's actually good at the things she claims to be, and my only hope is that we solve the imminent crisis and see more of her being truly silly.

#AFFECTIONATE. if i dunk on her here its because i love her and i think shes a good character #tho i did struggle not to refer to her as the sheldon cooper of her generation #homestuck #analysis #rose lalonde #chrono

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fractualized · 2 years ago

Text

Alright. Let's break down this "oh" of an ending. NEGATIVE NANCY, COMING THROUGH

Spoilers, ho!

Ending a story is hard, if they're long or short. Whether you wrap up key threads or leave them open, you want some kind of takeaway that puts a period on things. Even in comics, where we know these characters will go on and on, ideally a story will end in a way that just... fits. Even amateur fic writers have loads of WIPs just sitting there because exactly how to end this damn thing eludes them.

I don't know if Rosenberg had an ending in mind when he started The Man Who Stopped Laughing. I don't know if he decided he'd figure it out by the end of it's year-long run. I don't know if DC Editorial lets people do that; it sounds insane, but if you've been paying attention to their current level of editorial "oversight," which I imagine is supposed to make concurrent titles mesh together reasonably well, I wouldn't be shocked if they let people wing it. Or, more likely, perhaps DC Editorial swooped in and made Rosenberg change the ending he had planned and that's why the result falls flat.

In any case, after 11 issues of enjoying myself, I'm left feeling deflated.

But let's start where #12 does, with the Joker who's been told he's John Keyser, a toxin'd henchmen that the real Joker made into a doppelganger for funsies. He approaches a hotdog vendor.

I'm stuck on "Hello. I've been looking for you"?? I didn't catch that on my first read. Joker has a favorite hotdog vendor? lol

Shut up, Waffles!! All we have is your word for it!!

In any case, hey, Keyser Joker has already been Jokering this long, so yeah, why not keep going? And why not with help from poor woobie Jason, fresh from nearly getting himself killed in Gotham War?

Bruce did not fix Jason at the end of Gotham War, so his adrenaline is still triggering fear in his brain. But Keyser Joker has a solution for that!

It's a tiny dose of Joker toxin to take the edge off of Bruce's programming. Joker makes a point of saying that the effects are only temporary, though. (And like, I assume this is just the quick-fix solution Rosenberg came up with to pull off his own ending when told Bruce's plans for Jason over in the other titles.) Jason is skeptical of this "help," naturally, but Keyser Joker brings up their matching interest: getting rid of the other Joker.

Jason, why you gotta ruin Albert's good time? 🙄

Cut to Red Hood dragging a clown henchman through the streets of Gotham.

But "his" face being blacked out and some of the dialogue clue the reader in: things aren't what they seem.

DERAIL TIME: what is up with this batmobile?

Like from some other angles, it looks sportier, but in most of the panels it looks like an old Buick? lol ANYWAY.

With the flaily way this person jumps off the bike and runs, I was sure that this was Keyser Joker and we might see Batman interact with him. Alas.

It's Ravager, who survived last issue's explosion. She's helping Jason 1) distract Batman and 2) get Albert out of harm's way, far from Keyser Joker's plan.

Naturally Keyser Joker is planning something more destructive than he's led Jason to believe. Also like…

The idea that Keyser Joker really is this John guy, not the real deal, is still not sitting fucking right with me. Seeing him here in another costume, with a goofy death train with mismatched eyes just like his, it feels like a signal that he actually is Joker and Waffles is either lying or mistaken somehow. Like compared to the other Joker, who we haven't seen in a costume? Who left Gotham for weird reasons? I really thought there was going to be a reverse reveal.

And since it doesn't come, I guess it's a good time to mention that! There is no reverse reveal of who the real Joker is. Things get a little muddy later, but…. hrm. HRM.

That said, the other Joker does something pretty dang Jokery: he shows up in a dirigible with his face on it.

Killer Moth and a bunch of clown goons (that aren't supposed to be available because of Gotham War but WHATEVER) attach the dirigible to the train and it's pretty chaotic!

I love when villains are like, "Look I may kill people, but an endangered gorilla?! Get outta here!" 😂

Jason also arrives in style.

I guess he was observing Ravager's distraction?? Which feels like it defeats part of the purpose of having her do the distraction. But then he couldn't have this cool entrance in which he bludgeons people with a motorcycle. Trade offs!

Meanwhile, Real Joker makes it to the front of the train to confront Keyser Joker. One of Real's goons offers to shoot Keyser, but Real Joker wants to make this personal and kills the poor hench so he can do it himself.

Jason coming in like YEEEEEAAAAHHHHH 😎

Then he gets the bad news.

Keyser is as casually suicidal as your average Joker! Also "Real" Joker never acknowledges Red Hood's identity, afaik. It's always Keyser Joker. Details like this got me thinking that reverse reveal was coming, AND YET.

That aside, next comes a fun comedy beat.

Real Joker going right for the hair!

Jason isn't going to let this be the end of it, of course, and once again Killer Moth must suffer at his hands.

Jason shoots so many clowns. Just never the one he wants. 😞

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaait wait wait. You're telling me that Bruce knew about the imminent TWO JOKERS situation. But he decided to prioritize a report of Red Hood dragging a clown through the streets. When in the same breath he's saying there are other people coming to the scene with him, so he obviously could've sent someone else? On the same day Batman #139 is like "oooh Bruce is totally onto Joker now"? This is what you're telling me?? Augh.

Well, we can't rely on Batman right now, clearly, so it's up to Jason.

Meanwhile, Keyser Joker has told the other one that he actually does have a secret way off the runaway train safely. After they fight some more, the tune starts to change.

Alright so, this "deal," which would sort of start them back at square one, doesn't bother me because obviously it's on shaky-ass ground and one of them is definitely killing the other before this issue is over. What does bug me is the "franchising" line, for two reasons:

1) Is this supposed to imply that Real Joker is the one who was behind Joker Incorporated in the Batman Incorporated issues, not a third one?

2) I was just SO SURE it was another indication we were getting a reverse reveal. Joker absolutely does not love the franchising idea. That's kind of been the point of this whole series. The genuine Joker in Keyser Joker's hallucination/memory said that having two Jokers around is stupid. HRRRRMMM.

Anyhow, they leave the train together, though the escape plan is literally just jumping off, which has more issues than they bargained for.

So do you think, assuming the Gotham War writers actually communicated at least a little, that Zdarsky asked Rosenberg what he needed Jason for at the end of TMWSL, and Rosenberg was like, "oh I need him to heroically crash a toxic blimp and almost die?" And then Zdarsky was like, "er, I need him to heroically fly a plane into a magic meteor and almost die?" And then they just shrugged and closed the Zoom?

But yeah, the blimp crashes, and I'm sort of confused because I thought that earlier Bruce was saying that even if the toxin gets into the water, it'll still make it's way to the city. So for one thing, it's still exploding in the air and it's still gonna drift. And the parts that dissolve in water are still gonna drift. There's a part to the equation missing here.

But these two are just thrilled at the excitement.

Until the sudden yet inevitable betrayal.

BUT WHO WAS JOKE

Shortly after this, Ravager shows up with Manhunter, who also survived last issue's explosion. (It just doesn't come up at all. Like it doesn't have to, I guess, but it's just weird that there's not a word or wound about it.) Ravager dives into the water looking for Jason, because she instinctually knows he did something grand and dumb. She finds him among the clown bodies and brings him to shore.

Nothing can kill this man! He came back from the dead with nine lives! And also maybe that Lazarus resin from TFZ is still helping, I dunno.

Elsewhere along the shore, what's left of both Jokers' crews find themselves waiting in the same spot for the Joker they expect to be triumphant.

You know what. I'm soured on Waffles now. Leave him.

And then, from the water…

And that's it. That's how it ends. With a sort of snide cop-out?

Like, it's Joker's POV, so yeah, you could say the dickish tone is just him. But following this story for a year, and then seeing it end with simply the old "you'll never know which Joker prevailed," it doesn't feel clever or whatever this is going for. It just feels obnoxious.

Honestly, it feels like the same takeaway as freaking Three Jokers. 😐 That it doesn't matter who Joker is. All the lead-up to this, where maybe we get a tiny bit of depth and development, even if just in this story, eh. Doesn't matter! We're ending this with blah payoff.

On the other hand, the part of about about there being more questions, about this ending not being tidy, makes me think that this is leaving open the possibility that Keyser Joker actually was the real one. After all, we don't get a flashback to the actual events. The events we see are part of a hallucination, and Keyser never said he had clear memories of being the real or the fake one. He just went from assuming he was the real one to taking Waffles' word for it that he was the henchman.

Also, Keyser Joker was always the Joker giving narration. And the narration boxes for the Final Joker at the end remain in his style. So it seems like we actually have a huge indication of which Joker prevailed-- unless we're meant to assume that if the other Joker prevailed, he merely took over the narration.

I mean, this is what we have. So if I can just choose what I want to believe, I'm going to believe both that Keyser was actually the real guy and that he won. But it puts a real sour taste in my mouth to be super engaged with a story and wanting an ending that says something about Joker's character… and the ending is just that one murders the other and you don't know who, neener neener. It's anticlimactic. It's a predictable direction that I thought SURELY Rosenberg wouldn't go in. It feels like a dick move.

And... what else is there to say? So ends my year of consistently buying a comic, I guess. Nothing else has really grabbed me like TMWSL did, though City of Madness looks promising. After the multiverse and Gotham War stuff, I'm not about to start picking up Zdarsky's Batman. #139 had plenty I should enjoy, but it's soured by Zdarsky deciding to bring a canonical take to the three Jokers concept for some ungodly reason.

A new three Jokers take feels extra stupid after a year of a story about two Jokers. And the second Joker in TMWSL isn't even taken into account in Zdarsky's story. Based off that #135 scene, it really looks like he's going to say that Darwin Halliday accidentally copied TKJ Joker somehow. lmao Why. Why do we have to do this. Why can't this just be one of the things that gets retconned away. I just want my murderclown to be fun.

I need to get back to my list of unread older comics. Or read One Operation Joker! I didn't think I was interested, but I think a random goofy premise is actually just what I need.

#the man who stopped laughing #joker #spoilers #my jibber-jabber #sorry for being a downer

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