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ncteez · 1 year

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COLOR EVASION (j.s)

You were just browsing, looking at all of the various kinks and fantasies the great world wide web had to offer. It’s not like you intended to make an account on a specific website to meet someone. Really, you were just curious about what was behind the “only members can view this page” banner. What you definitely weren’t expecting was to be pulled into actually meeting one of the men behind said banner, or enjoying it so much that you’d like for him to hurt you more.

or the one where you join a kink website and a specific dom’s profile catches your attention enough to actually meet him at a hotel and practically ignore your safe words bc man, he’s good.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni !! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do.

wordcount― 8.7k

pairing― johnny x afab reader

content― dom!johnny, open minded sub!reader, smut, reader wants to explore her interests in kinks and finds the best person for the job

warnings― this is mildly cnc in some areas but reader does want it and there are safe words (colors) but she intentionally doesn’t use them. she’s having fun, she feels good, and only alludes to a “stop” because it makes johnny go harder.

note― uh, hi. i know i'm always on a sub-idol agenda but i had this wip half written that i lost steam for and, well, johnny brought the fire back to finish it. disclaimer: im not good at writing dom stuff, but i tried so pls forgive me if this is the worst thing you’ve ever read.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― MONSTER COCK JOHNNY AGENDA, reader is referred to as: “sweetheart”, “baby”, “dirty girl”, “pain slut”, and “plaything”, face fucking (m receiving), bulge kink but like– via throat, choking, drooling, dirty talk, slapping, restraining, suffocation, degrading, praise, panty sucking, brief oral for the reader, teasing, short lived thigh fucking, cream pie, cock-drunk reader, biting, abuse of breasts, orgasm via nipple stimulation, clit abuse, hair pulling, fingering, overstimulation, johnny is kind of a sadist at times, unprotected sex, aftercare

You joined this website out of curiosity, and you also messaged user SayPlease out of curiosity. You said please to him, you thanked him, you used all of those manners you grew up learning in a way that they weren’t intended for through instant messages with the man.

Truly, it was because you were curious and you had no intentions of actually doing it. You wanted to try out some fantasies in the safety of your own room, alone. You wanted to keep it under wraps and just see how your body reacts to the words and images the people on this website offer. You were expecting your body to react at least a little bit, but you weren’t expecting to have one of the best orgasms of your life guided by his words through a muffled speaker.

Johnny knew you were new to this, he knew you were just exploring, and most of all, he knew he could control you. After all, you did so well during that first phone call. He’s truly not surprised that you were willing to meet with him in person after a short week or so of communicating. All of them eventually want the same thing, you’re no different.

Pulling up to the hotel felt ill-fitting for you considering this isn’t something you’d normally do. No, of course not. Why would you go out and meet some random man you met on a fetish website? Why would you be wearing the prettiest panties you own in hopes to get some praise for them? Why would you have been the one to suggest meeting him in the midst of a sexting session where he sent you the most delicious image of his hand squeezing around his cock, texting that he knew you’d do a great job of choking it?

Why you, right? No one needs to know that answer. This is a private affair, one where only you and Johnny know what’s going to happen. You’re nervous, based on how he speaks to you alone. You keep forgetting how new you are to all of this. Some rules you know are in place, but what about other things? Will he explain? Will he sit you down and make you sign a contract like what happened in that one book everyone was raving about?

The walk from your car to the room with dainty metal numbers screwed into the door felt like it took ages. You didn’t have a key, and you were a bit early for this meeting but the anxiety bubbling in your gut said that if you didn’t leave when you did, you probably never would have come anyway.

He was already behind that door though, and only when he starts opening it do you realize that never once have you seen his face. You’ve heard his voice, you’ve seen his body, but never his face. He, on the other hand, never saw you at all, he only heard you. Is this how this type of thing usually goes down? Are appearances not part of the fun? Suddenly, you find yourself worried that he’s only going to be attractive from the neck down, which would ruin it for you, if you’re being honest.

On instinct you back away from the door, ready to run back to your car and delete your profile, block his number, and ultimately pretend that none of this happened. When he comes into view though, you find yourself freezing on the spot.

Messy dark hair, tattoos, somewhat soft eyes. This man looks exactly like a dom that would talk to you the way he already has. It doesn’t match the face you imagined on him though. Hardened eyes, a grimace on his lips, something along the lines of a person who probably carries themselves as some type of cocky prick with a huge ego to match his cock. But no, this is what Johnny looks like. He looks big, and almost compassionate if you’re reading his facial expression right.

He doesn’t say anything to you at first, he just watches your reaction to his face reveal all while he takes in what you look like for the first time. He liked the surprise of it all, not knowing what his next partner actually looks like until he’s about to have them on their knees. He’s had all sorts of partners fulfill his fantasy without the expectation that he would want them to, after all, it’s about the pleasure and not entirely the attraction in his mind. You, however, are incredibly attractive already. He imagines how much better you’d look with tears in your eyes.

“There she is.” He says warmly, stepping to the side and letting you into the room. “More beautiful than I could have hoped for.”

Already you’re blushing as you step into the room, deciding once and for all that, yeah, you’re doing this. His confidence in complimenting you matches the way he talked to you before, except now he’s in front of you and looking at you. It hits you straight in the stomach, even as you still try to comprehend his kind words versus the ones he growled through the speaker at you just days ago.

You’re silent as you take your shoes off and stand awkwardly in front of the made-up, plush, probably half-assed cleaned hotel bed.

“I get it, you’re nervous.” He chuckles out, locking the door behind him and walking over to casually sit on the bed slightly behind you. His legs fall open easily as he looks down at himself, then up at you through the messy fringe falling in front of his eyes. “You can still back out, you know.”

You shake your head, struggling not to make eye contact with him.

“Are there like–” You’re embarrassed by how nervous you are, unable to string together a sentence or try to keep this calm and casual.

“Hm? Go on, I’m not going to do anything until you’re sure you want it.” He smiles, cocking his head to the side and trailing his eyes up and down your body. He really can’t stop looking at you, hoping that you’ll let him have his way. The memory of how you sounded on the phone flooding his mind as he puts your face to the moaning voice. He remembers how wet you sounded, he could hear you fuck yourself so clearly.

“Rules. Are there any rules?”

Johnny darts his eyes to the ceiling in thought. Right, he knows you’re new but– damn is he selfish.

“If you want rules, we can set them now. A safe word is good,” He pauses, reaching to grab at your hand to pull you next to him. “Sit.”

He says it politely, more like an offer than demand but you can’t see him as anything other than the dominant man you’d spoken to before. Even with a face that looks as soft as his right now.

“Usually, for me at least, a safe word is the only thing I set and it tends to help people learn their limits. I will stop if you say it.” He tries to explain, ultimately to leave limitations up to you during the act. After all, since you’re so new, how would you even know what you don’t like anyway? Sure, some people in this community find Johnny’s way of doing things shady at best, but he does communicate his preferred method first. He isn’t trying to trick you into doing something you don’t want to do, he just wants the freedom to let you explore all of the things that he likes.

“I’m not sure what rules are even meant to be set.” You explain, finally gaining enough composure to talk clearly now. “I’m not into water spots, though. I know that for sure.”

He nods in agreement with a shrug, looking at you as if he is encouraging you to continue.

“What’s the safe word then?” You ask, unintentionally fiddling your fingers in a nervous way. You catch his eye watching you, and you note the way he does his best to calm you from any anxiety.

“Some people pick random words, but colors are usually a good way to go. Yellow for when you’re not sure, but I can keep going. Red for when I need to stop.”

“No green?” You ask.

“I mean, technically everything is green until you state otherwise, isn’t it?”

He’s right.

“Any other things that are a hard no?” He asks again, ruffling his hair through his fingers. “Fair warning, I will hit you, choke you, restrain you, among many other things,” he pauses and looks for your reaction. “unless you tell me now that you don’t want it.”

You look at him and how his soft features have hardened slightly with his tense jaw, your thoughts derailing again as you see the words coming from a mouth so plush and pretty.

“Is kissing allowed?” You ask, completely unrelated to his string of offered abuse.

“If you want to kiss me through all of this, and your mouth is available, sure, I don’t see why not.”

You nod, taking it all in. Yellow. Red. No watersports. You’re going to hurt, and you can kiss him.

“Okay.” You say in a small voice, looking away from him and down to your lap. “Can you start slow?”

“Probably not.” Johnny admits. He’s incredibly attracted to your nervousness, and even more attracted to the way your voice is already shaking and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“You have safe words, use them if it’s too much. I don’t ‘go slow’,” He adds, spreading his legs a bit more. “I do what I want, you do what I want, and maybe you’ll get what you want in return.”

There is no tone of politeness in his voice, and you assume he switched fully into this persona the moment you muttered the word “okay.” More nervous now, you almost wonder if it’s too late to back out. Do you even want to though? Because now you’re turning to look at him and you can see the way he’s looking back at you. You’re just exploring, and he’s right, you have safe words.

“Okay.” You say against the anxiety in your belly, knowing that once it starts, that’s your chance to decide if your exploration was worth it.

Without warning, you hear the zipper of his jeans being pulled at, and before you know it his length is out and on display. He grips it much like he did in the photo he sent to you. Matching his body more to his face now, you stare at it. It’s much bigger in person, and more intimidating to imagine having inside of you. Not only is it long but it’s incredibly thick, part of you wonders if you could even fit it into your mouth at all.

“You mentioned being on birth control, right? And being tested as clean?” He asks, looking down at himself and then back at you to watch you slowly nod in an answer.

He basks in the way you stare, blinking at the way he’s gripping onto himself for you to see. But, like he said, he’s not going to start slow for you. With the brief discussion and questions out of the way, he’s going in full force.

“On the floor.” He nods his head to the space between his legs.

Your body takes you to the position between his legs without so much as a second thought. Your fingers instinctually land against the harsh fabric of his jeans as you attempt to prepare yourself, swallowing hard at the image of his cock towering before you.

“No, hands behind your back.” He guides you with a smile and watches the way you pull your hands back and put them right where he asked you to. “Already so obedient? I knew you wouldn’t be hard to handle.”

You can’t tell if it’s a compliment or not, but it feels like it is because it sends a sense of pride through you. Does he like to fight for what he wants, or does he prefer having full control?

Johnny releases the grip on his length and places his hand at the back of your head, slowly guiding your mouth to his balls, twitching a bit at the way you instantly have your tongue out to lick and taste wherever he guides you. That alone drives him wild, seeing as how you may be new to this whole submissive thing, but surely you know how to suck a man off, right?

“Dirty girl, you barely even know me.” He teases as he watches you lap away at him, a smirk against his lips while he guides your head up to the underside of his cock. “What would your parents think?”

You knew he’d degrade you, but in all fairness, none of what he just said to you is a lie. You don’t even know his last name, you didn’t even know what he fucking looked like until fifteen minutes ago. Your parents would have a heart attack if they knew, and somehow feeling this dirty makes your stomach tumble and panties dampen.

He stops guiding you for a moment, feeling your tongue travel back down to his balls, licking and prodding against them in a way that makes him want to buck his hips up, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t show want or need for his partners, ever. That’s their role to fill, because if he wants to fuck something, he can.

“Up,” He guides, feeling your tongue travel up the underside of his cock again. “Open up.” He adds as he smiles down at you, seeing you open your mouth fully while keeping your tongue flat against him.

When you circle your lips around the head, you wanted to take your time. You wanted to prepare for the fact that Johnny has a huge cock and it’s going to take some getting used to. Apparently, that wasn’t going to happen though, because now his hand is putting pressure on your head to go down, and your body fights it slightly because your throat has never taken a cock this big.

“No?” He asks, pulling your head off of him and seeing if you’re already going to give him a red, but you don’t. You don’t even look at him and instead, focus your eyes on the head of his cock trying to be better prepared.

You almost hear the chuckle he lets out, the silent code word of green shining through in the way you say nothing. With that, he places both hands on your head and holds it there.

“Deep breath–” He encourages. “Look at me.”

Your eyes dart up to his as you take in a sharp inhale, and then, suddenly, you’re feeling him press past your lips again. You close your eyes and try to move your head down on your own, but it doesn’t budge, he’s holding you in place and at this point all you can do is let him.

“Open your eyes, look at me.” He demands this time, pressing further into your mouth and leaving little room for you to fight it. You do your best to look up at him, straining your eyes as he watches his cock disappear deeper into your mouth.

For a moment, ignoring the fact that your lips are being spread impossibly wide and you can feel your throat attempting to constrict around the intrusion, you watch the way his face stares down at you. He’s really into this. Concentrated on sliding his full, hardened cock as deep as it can go into your mouth. And when he hits the back of your throat and there’s a tear shedding down your cheek, he fucking chuckles.

“It’s not so bad, right?” He asks, knowing you can’t answer with a mouth full of him.

That’s when the grip on your head becomes harsher and he starts fucking his hips forward, past your lips. He can feel you struggle, squeezing his length as it fills your throat, dripping precum and fully aware that you can’t even taste it.

“I can go deeper.” He decides, standing to his feet from the edge of the bed, holding your face on his cock and pressing in more, until he can feel the drool on your chin drip down and onto his balls.

He stares down at you and the way your neck cranes. He can almost see the bulge of his cock intruding your throat as he presses in tightly if he angles his head right. He coos at you, rubbing a thumb against your cheek.

“You’re taking me so well–” Johnny compliments, reaching his hand down to rest against your neck so that he can feel his length sliding in and out of your throat. “Do you hate this?”

You can’t respond, closing your eyes and trying to breathe through your nose. Your jaw is already hurting, your makeup is now ruined, and for some reason, you don’t hate it. You like the feeling of your breath being lost, with his hand pressed against any airway you could have possibly used at this moment.

Arms still behind your back, you can’t help but pull them forward to brace your hands against your own knees when he continues to fuck into your mouth at a more aggressive pace. When he pulls almost all the way out, you steal little gasps that end up sounding more like wet, desperate, attempts to breathe. When he presses all the way back in, bruising your throat in an immaculate show of how big he is, he doesn’t make a single sound and only concentrates on the way he can feel his cock sliding against the palm of his hand through the expanse of skin along your neck.

He does this for what feels like ages to you, and briefly you forget the pain of it and remember when he texted you the photo, saying you’d probably rather be choking on it. Experiencing it now, it’s more than you had imagined before, but also, in its own way, a million times better than you could have imagined.

Johnny’s hips start to slow as he releases his grip on your neck and moves his hands either side of your head. He holds you there on him as he tenses his muscles, your nose pressing against his abdomen and you can feel his cock twitch in the deepest depths your throat has to offer. You are continuously gagging around him and only now does he let out a moan, one that is deep and breathy. You open your eyes to try and look, but the angle doesn’t allow for it. All you can see is the expanse of skin along his abdomen and chest before his hands release your head.

He’s expecting you to pull back, considering you haven’t gotten a full breath of air since he started doing this, but you don't. He jerks his head down to look at you when he feels your hands grip at his jeans again. Johnny doesn’t even think to tell you to put them back behind your back, because you are willingly still choking on him. He can feel your tongue struggle to share the space in your mouth with him, the heaviness of his cock weighing it down.

“Shit–” He groans, staring down at you and the way you close your eyes so tightly in concentration, all in an attempt to please him. “Oh, fuck.” He throws his head back again this time, feeling the way you try to move your mouth on him, essentially deep-throating all on your own.

When he looks back down at you, not fully able to keep his head thrown back so he can bask in the feeling, he’s floored by the wetness against your cheeks. You’ve been crying this whole time, dribbling drool, and taking it so well. He makes a point to pull himself out of you.

The whimper that leaves your lips is something he doesn’t think he can forget. A raspy whimper. A fucking cry, he’d be lying if it didn’t sound like you were disappointed that he stopped suffocating you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” He starts sweetly, pinching your drool-coated chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “You liked the way I fucked that tight little throat, didn’t you?”

You blink through your tears, nodding to him. You surprised yourself with how much you were able to take in that instant, and how willing you were to do it for longer.

“Like you were made for it,” He hisses out this time, pulling you up by the chin so that you can stand in front of him, “let’s see how wet you are.”

You can’t look away from his eyes, especially with the way he stares directly into yours when he cups his palm between your legs. Even with your clothes on, your body prickles with goosebumps at the sensation of him touching you there.

“Can feel you through these shorts,” he smiles, dipping his head down to ghost over the shell of your ear before moving his hand to the button of your shorts. “I bet you want me to touch you.”

You’ve never begged before, and you never really understood why people begged at all, but at this moment you think you would absolutely fall right back to your knees and plead for him to touch you. You can feel your shorts sticking to you, your panties uncomfortably tucked into your seeping pussy at the very act of him fucking your mouth.

“Please?” You choke out, voice still raspy as you try to speak.

Johnny chuckles at your pathetic attempt and pulls you by your shorts to step forward as he takes one step back. He shakes his head at you in pity, sitting himself on the bed as he drags you to stand between his legs.

“Turn around.” He guides you with his hand before circling your ass with his hands and landing a short slap against the back of your thigh. “Now, sit.”

He still guides you, positioning his cock between both of your plush thighs and holding in a shiver at the way the hem of your shorts drags against his length.

You know you get nothing out of this, and he’s not going to touch you yet but fuck, you need it at this point. He watched you gag around him, he watched you try your fucking best, and this is what you get in return? The head of his cock peeking from your thighs as you squeeze around them? So be it.

You keep both feet on the floor, doing your best to keep your legs together as you make an attempt to bounce against his lap but he stops you instantly.

“I didn’t say you could move,” he warns, placing his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist before leaning both of you back and then rolling you over to your side. “Cross your legs, and don’t move.”

You do exactly as he asks, crossing your legs at the ankle and lying there still as he slips his cock from between your thighs. You wait like this for a moment before you feel the head of his length nudging between your legs again, this time more wet than before, and then his hand is traveling to your belly and under your shirt from behind you.

“Ever get off from having your tits played with?” he asks, his hand ignoring your bra and pinching straight through the sheer fabric against your nipple. “Would love to see how you’d drench these shorts if you could do that for me.”

Your mind is racing, feeling his fingers tightening the pinch against your nipple and his cock lazily sliding between your thighs. You shake your head, not knowing if it is even possible to get off that way. Sensitive tits aside, if he can do it, you might just have to find a way to claim Johnny as your dom, and no one else's.

“You haven’t?” He chuckles from behind you, snaking his other hand under you and up to your other tit. “Let’s see.”

He uses both hands to move your bra to the outer swell of your breasts and gropes both of them before pausing and focusing on his cock between your legs for a split second.

“Keep your legs tight for me, sweetheart, I’ll reward you for it.”

You squeeze your legs tighter as you feel his fingertips gently flick both of your nipples. You try to focus on that sensation alone, feeling a short jolt of pleasure travel down your body and straight to your clit. God, you want him to touch your pussy so badly, because there’s no way you can come from this alone.

His focus falls back to you, fucking his hips forward all while he allows his fingers to put more and more pressure into the flicks and pinches. You must not realize the way your body trembles even at this, and it’s driving him fucking insane. You’re so new to this, but you suck cock like you’ve been a submissive plaything for years. You have so much to learn, so much to experience, and it’s hard for him not to want to do it all right here, right fucking now.

Without warning, he pulls his hips back and leaves his cock untouched. You’re about to turn your body to him in confusion but he does it for you. Rolling you over onto your back and positioning himself between your legs after standing to kick his jeans off first. He looks at you, deep and dark eyes matching the smirk on his face.

“On second thought,” he starts, pulling your shirt off of you in one swift motion and staring down at your chest. “I want to see your tits before I ruin them.”

Typically, it’s normal for you to be fairly silent in these situations, so having no response for him isn’t a surprise. What is surprising is the way your throat instantly forces out a small moan when his legs forces you to spread yours as he settles between them.

Even the sensation of your pussy opening beneath your shorts at the spread of your legs has you feeling more aroused than before. So, when he shocks you with a quick slap against one of your tits, you’re not even surprised that it feels good.

He watches your face after that slap, your slack jaw rising into a small and cocky smirk at the realization that you’re liking what he’s doing. He’s still in the green, so he slaps again, harder this time before leaning down and licking the spot he just hit.

He pulls your bra up with one hand, raising it to your collar bone to release both of your tits and leaving them vulnerable to any hit, kiss, bite, or pinch he has to offer. You don’t care, because when you manage to open your eyes and look at him, he’s entirely focused on the way your nipples harden and soften from the sensations.

When he leans down to lick, your pussy clenches at the wet heat of his tongue flicking your nipple, and when his teeth graze as a warning for a future bite, you only anticipate it. Your body instinctively humping up each time a jolt is sent to your clit. He bites hard, and then pulls back to slap against your other tit even harder. Until you’re left shaking, babbling incoherently with gasps and curses.

“Does it hurt enough, sweetheart?” He coos, leaning back down to lick the growing swell against your tits. “Do you want more?”

He’s surprised that you nod, chuckling to himself because he was already going just as hard as he normally would when a woman likes breast abuse. You want more? You want him to go harder? He hums in response, using one hand to pinch harshly against one of your nipples and dipping down to suck against a particularly swollen and sore area.

You feel the pain, the sensation running down your body much like the arousal and pleasure does. It’s almost hard to tell the difference between them, aside from the fact that the pain actually hits harder. The feeling of his mouth abusing you, his hands, all while his cock is hanging heavy and neglected against your thigh? You can take more than this even, you’re sure of it.

Without really intended to, your hands find their way to his hair. He almost pulls back to demand that you let go, to inform you that he gave no permission to touch him, but the way you pull against his strands has him replacing his harsh sucking and biting against your flesh to flicking his tongue against your other nipple. Surely, you can come from this. He’s going to make damn sure you’re soaking your shorts before he rewards you again.

You moan at the flutters of his tongue gently flicking your nipple, especially in contrast to his other hand bruising your other breast. It’s strange, really, to feel that familiar build up in your stomach but then again, your panties are tucked so tightly between your lips that your clothing is actually offering a bit of pleasure in that front too. Your clit is harshly being restricted and somehow, that offers relief in it’s own way.

For the first time in your life, you feel waves washing through your body that feel so hot that you’re sure you have a fever. He continues to stimulate your nipples, replacing his tongue with his other hand as he pulls back and watches you fall apart beneath him. His cock twitches wildly at the image. Your lips parting, tongue darting out to try and collect the saliva threatening to fall from the corners of your mouth, eyes rolled back before you squeeze them tightly and fucking tremble.

Your lower half is humping up, your chest is chasing the abuse of his fingers, and you feel nothing but heat as you orgasm for an embarrassingly long time. All the way until your ears pick up the sound of him cooing at you.

“Dirty girl, you made a mess.” He smiles, releasing your tits and sliding down the bed before resting his chin on your knee.

You’ve barely come back to reality when you feel your shorts unsticking from your core. Panties still tucked uncomfortably against you, he tries to coo again, but instead he groans at the image of both your pussy and your shorts.

“Fuck,” he stares. “You really did soak them.”

He analyzes your shorts briefly before tossing them to the side and bracing both hands on your knees to spread your legs out. There, he hooks his pointer finger beneath the panties sitting tightly against your hole and pulls them out.

“So fucking wet,” he comments, realizing that your entire pussy is glistening with arousal. He pulls your panties away from you, offering relief to your core before slipping those down your legs as well.

You weren’t expecting him to do it, but then again, you weren’t expecting to let him do it when he shoves the panties into your face.

“Open up.” He smiles, pressing the panties into your mouth with two fingers. “Suck.”

You do, wondering how the fuck you ended up in a situation where this actually turns you on. He’s loving it though, watching your hole pulse as you suck your own arousal out of the fabric for him. You almost forgot his promise of a reward, if you’re being honest. So, yet again, you’re surprised when you feel his tongue, without any warning, lick straight against that pulsing hole and up to your clit.

Your legs shake around him, instinctively closing around his head before both of his strong arms spread them back out again. He chuckles against your pussy, and when you inhale to try and regain control of the sensitive pleasure taking over your body, you can only taste yourself. Each breath replaced with your past orgasm, each moan coming out as a choked and desperate whine.

The pleasure is short lived though. Johnny takes note of your whining, licking and tasting you to the point that he’s the one that’s about to fucking lose it. He’s quick to regain his control, licking a languid stripe up your folds before landing against your clit and grazing his teeth against it.

He holds you down when you jump at it, groaning at the sensitivity and pain. He grazes his teeth against it again, and again, and then finally nibbles against it. Your whining gets louder and he swears he can hear a whisper of a ‘wait, stop–’ as you spit the panties out of your mouth and your legs still try to squeeze around him, but he still holds you down with a chuckle.

“You know the words to use, sweetheart.” Johnny reminds you before nibbling again.

You could end this torture right now. Your clit has been neglected this whole time until now, and it’s not gentle. He’s biting, he’s grazing, and it fucking hurts. All you have to do is say the color, all you have to do is choke it out between his evil ministrations, but you don’t.

“That’s what I thought.” He laughs, leaning back and sitting up between your legs. He releases his hold on your hips, now pressing one hand flat on your stomach and holding you down that way before using his other hand to tap lightly against your clit this time. “Didn’t know you were interested in being a pain slut.”

You groan, unable to answer between his quick slaps to your clit. Swallowing hard, you try to speak. He notices your attempt and holds back his next, harsher slap.

“Baby wants to speak now?” He asks, rubbing your clit gently and encouraging you to try.

“Yellow,” you finally whimper, and he raises his brow.

“Just a yellow?” He confirms, waiting for you to nod before holding back entirely from the slaps and instead, pinching your clit much like he did to your nipples.

For some fucking reason, this hurts more than the slaps but the consistent pain is more tolerable than the sudden, anticipated slaps. This, you like.

“Green.” You manage to moan out this time, hips humping up much like before as a way to ask for more.

He tilts his head, thinking it’s cute when you use the color codes and thinking it’s even cuter that you’re still fucking drooling through it all. He pinches harder, watching you react, he dips his head down again and offers a bit more pleasure that way too. All the way until your legs are shaking again, and he knows now that you’re already about to fall apart again.

Despite your confirmation and willingness to let him continue the abuse of your pussy, he pulls back entirely, collecting the wet seeping out of you and sliding it down his cock with his fist.

“Look at me.” He demands, staring between your legs. You listen, managing to open your eyes in frustration and watch him. “Did you want to come again?”

His eyes dart to you, and your pussy pulses yet again when you nod, releasing a frustrated sigh. He ignores it, looking back down at your hole, his thought process switching to his own pleasure.

“Do you know how much I want it to hurt you when I fill you up?” He asks again, fisting his cock faster, using his other hand to grab your face and force you to look into his eyes. “I could be so fucking deep inside of you right now, you know that, right?”

You groan, your body threatening to release something that resembles an orgasm on those words alone.

“Fuck–” You try to moan for him, you try to beg, but he stops you by squeezing your cheeks tighter.

“Fuck, what?” He asks, feeling his own orgasm welling up inside of him before he grips the base of his cock, denying him of that pleasure. “You?”

You nod aggressively, your hand reaching to grip his arms and brace yourself.

“Say it,” he demands, releasing his cock and using his other hand to run his fingers up your pussy. “Say you want me to hurt you.”

You choke out the words, salivating at the very idea of him doing it more than he already has.

“So dirty,” he groans, shuffling back on the bed and standing to his feet. He quickly removes the rest of his clothes, the musky scent of him blowing past you as he throws his shirt over your face. “Take your bra off, dirty girl, let me see how much you want it.”

Removing your bra ss quickly as possible, you toss it off the bed along with his shirt before looking at him with a question in your eye.

“Come on, take it.” He says, glancing down at his cock as he stands at the foot of the bed in front of you. “You think I’m going to fuck you? Fuck yourself.”

Honestly, it’s like you’re seeing tunnel vision. Nothing in this room exists but you and his cock. Entirely tuned into your pleasure, your pussy aching from sensitivity and lack of being stretched open, you’re instantly leaning forward to get to him.

He watches the way you pull yourself from the bed, acting like an animal as you fall to your knees and take him into your mouth much like you did before. His jaw tenses at your hunger, and he holds back a moan at the way you appear to have lost yourself entirely for him. He doesn’t fuck his hips forward, he doesn’t touch you, he just stands there. Watching you unravel on your knees, feeling your eager tongue try to force a reaction from him.

“I said to fuck yourself,” He warns, stepping back and pulling his cock from your mouth. “Go on, you can use it if you want to.”

He smiles when he says it, and in your head, you don’t care if it’s some sort of trick or play of words. You’d gladly spread out on the bed and absolutely pound your pussy on your fingers alone if he so much as hinted for you to do it, but at this point his cock is out, and it’s heavy.

Johnny is a bit shocked when you shove him back, eyes still glazed over in a way that shows him that you’re not in your right mind. He steps back, allowing you to press him all the way until he’s leaned against the hotel vanity. Raising his brow, kind of impressed, he allows you to hook one leg around him and instantly holds your leg in place to balance you there.

He still says nothing, he doesn’t move past holding your leg in place around him, and his eyes remain on yours as you reach between the two of you and position his cock to your core. There, he chuckles when your face turns from something that seemed determined, into relief at the stretch of his head entering past your lips.

Still, he stands, chuckling at how desperate you are to fuck him this way, rather than just turning around and bending over. Surely the position would be easier for you, but then it all makes sense when he feels your lips slacked against his, panting against him as you make attempts to find some sort of rhythm.

You did ask if kissing was allowed, and god, he’s glad you did. He growls into it, pressing his tongue past your slack lips and tasting the remnants of your panties.

“You’re already so gone,” he whispers into your mouth, feeling your shallow humps on his cock. “I’m hardly even inside of you, sweetheart.”

You don’t really hear those words. Honestly, your body is moving on its own and doing what it can do at this moment. The angle isn’t easy, but you wanted to kiss him so fucking badly, that you had to do it this way.

He pulls out of you though, leaving little reaction for you to do anything other than feel embarrassed by your attempt to fuck yourself on him. He doesn’t expect you to, apparently, because he’s instantly swirling you around and shoving you to the bed. Bending you over and placing a hand at the back of your head before pressing your face into the blankets. His other hand holding both of your hands behind your back with ease.

“Better?” He asks, easily positioning his cock and shoving into you with one quick thrust, bottoming out entirely. “Hm?” He adds, pulling out and shoving in again.

Your mouth is open in a silent moan at the intense stretch, tasting nothing but the fabric of the blanket your face is currently shoved into.

“Can’t hear you,” He grunts, picking up the pace and pistoning his cock in and out of you so fast that you can barely catch your breath regardless of the blankets already making it difficult. “Say something.”

You can’t. You can only groan at the feeling of his cock stretching you open repeatedly, at his hand shoving your face further against the mattress until all you can do is tense your body.

He feels it, your pussy clenching around him so tightly that even he gets the breath knocked out of him. Gripping your hair, he pulls your head up and listens to your gasps for air. His hips slam harder, harder, harder, until he feels the pleasure threaten to hit him. That’s when he stops, burying himself into you entirely before releasing your head and falling forward against you.

“Don’t fucking move.” He warns, twitching inside of you as he feels you heave for air beneath him.

You try not to move, but your sensitive body reacts to even the sound of his breath behind your ear. Everything is more sensitive than you could ever imagine your body being. Your bruised and swollen tits are throbbing against the mattress, your clit is pulsing at the fullness of his cock inside of you, and your pussy is struggling still to adjust to his size. It feels fucking immaculate. You want him to move, you want to move. You want to be fucked, obliterated, destroyed.

“Wait–” You manage to muffle out, knowing full well that it’ll get him to do the exact opposite.

“I’m not even fucking you,” he laughs, pressing his hips forward a bit more, causing you to whimper in response.

“Stop, just, give me a second.” You cry out.

“Not how this works, sweetheart,” He laughs, pulling his hips back and pointedly thrusting into you again. “So lost you forgot how to use words?”

You nod, smirking against the blankets and knowing he can’t see it.

“Liar.”

His hips speed up, this time thrusting into you so hard that the bed itself scoots further forward and bangs against the wall. You yelp in pleasure, rolling your eyes back and wanting so badly to see his face as he fucks you.

“Johnny, please.” You groan and he pulls back, wondering if you actually are so lost that you’ve forgotten the colors.

“Colors, sweetheart. Red for stop.”

You shake your head almost aggressively at that, bracing your hands on the bed and pushing your ass back against him.

It floors him, really, that you’ll ask him to stop and then blatantly ignore your own words by fucking yourself back on him. You’re insane, honestly.

“Please what, then?” He asks, smiling as he watches you fuck back against him.

“Let me see you do it.”

He obliges, tilting his head at the request but allowing it nonetheless. You can feel him slip out of you before his fingers replace his cock. He doesn’t want to lose the feeling of your clenched pussy even for a moment as he guides you to roll over and shoves you back on the bed, your legs hanging off the end of it. He braces himself at the end of the mattress, resting his cock against your core as he scissors his fingers inside of you with a smile.

“Wanna see me fucking ruin you?” He smirks at you, pulling at your legs and guiding you to wrap them around him. “Watch me then.”

You do, eyes zoned in on him as he grips tightly at your legs and pulls his fingers out of you. You can’t even catch your breath, which is no longer a shock to you, when he slides back into you. Studying his face as he does it, you can’t tell if he feels good or if this is just a service he does on the regular. You wonder what you’d have to do to break that stone-cold look in his eyes, what it takes to get him to moan without restraint, to show you that you’re also making him feel good.

He fucks you so well, so deep, and god, it becomes so difficult to keep your eyes on him with each painful thrust. The bed continues to knock against the wall, your cries become louder and louder, and finally, fucking finally, you hear him release his breath in a low and guttural moan.

That’s it. That’s what you want to hear from him, time and time again.

“Harder,” you urge him, feeling his hands tighten around your legs before he’s releasing them and dropping his hand to your throat. “Harder.” You continue.

He does, putting all of his strength behind his thrusts, losing himself momentarily in the moment and squeezing your throat tighter as he grunts out at you with a defeated chuckle.

“Of course, you’d be the one to pull this out of me.” He admits, his smile never falling from his lips as he closes his eyes and listens to the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of you. “Of course, you’d be the one to grip my cock like this.”

You’re gone, not even realizing that you’ve been on the edge for a while now in the way his thick cock continuously massages your g-spot. You tighten your legs around him, forcing him to bury himself deep inside of you as you clench and grip around him in a release.

He allows it, sliding his hand up your throat before releasing it and using two of his fingers to hook your mouth open. There, he watches you drench him, he feels your arousal gushing out of your stuffed pussy and onto the bed, and now, now it’s his turn.

“That’s it, come all over me,” he coos, pulling his hips back and slamming back into you despite your tightened legs around him. “Feel it.” he adds, accenting his words with another particularly deep thrust.

�� You’re entirely silent, and he’s loving it as he slides his fingers deeper into your mouth, holding your tongue down and imagining which way he’d like to fill you up. He could watch his seed run down your thighs, he could pull out and fuck your throat until climax, he could pull out and deny himself a bit more, just to see you fall apart more.

It hits him a bit too fast though, when he’s looking down your throat and watching your eyes slowly open to look at him. There’s the tears, your sensitive pussy probably begging for him to pull out, to give you some relief, to be gentle. He offers one last thing to you, pulling his fingers from your mouth and dragging them down.

There, he rubs against your swollen clit until you’re writhing under him to get away. Still no safe words have been used, and you’re fully capable of stopping him at this moment. But you don’t. So, he doesn’t stop. The sensation of your body writhing, fighting the pain, chasing the smallest hint of pleasure throws him into his release. He presses into you so hard that the bed remains in a slightly tilted position, fitting snugly against the wall as he paints your inner walls with thick, hot cum.

You whimper at the feeling, legs falling open from around him as your body tries to wiggle away with your post-orgasm shocks. He moans each time, falling forward half way through his orgasm..

“You love being filled with my cum, don’t you?” He growls against your ear as he fucks his cum into you. “Is this what you wanted?”

You listen to him speak, the words matching the pain in your body to such an extent that you’d probably let him keep going if he wanted to. You’d let him break you of all sanity, you’d let him tie you up, use you, abuse you.

And when he goes silent, his sweat dampened skin raises and he slips out of you with care and a deep sigh of relief. You simply lay there, staring up at the ceiling and wondering how long you’ve been here, why it took you so long to explore this side of your sexuality, and why you’re not ready for it to be over, despite your aching body.

You feel his presence leave you for a brief moment and return with a warm and wet towel. You jolt when it touches between your legs, and you almost pull away when he runs it over your clit.

“You must be sensitive,” Johnny says gently with a voice you’ve never heard from him, “They always are after their first time.”

Nodding, you try to pull yourself up and close your legs, but your body feels stiff.

“Relax, you’ll probably faint if you try to stand up too fast.” He tries to explain, folding the towel over to clean you with a different side of it. “It’s not like a normal hook up, you know? If you’re gonna let me hurt you, you’ve gotta let me take care of you after.”

Your throat is dry as you lay there, the sensation of even his gentle touches feeling like too much to handle. You feel like you can’t move, so you trust his words and try to relax.

“That’s it, yeah,” He encourages, going to try and help you shuffle your body up to the head of the bead so that you at least have a pillow. “Take your time. You have my number if you ever wanna meet up again.”

With that, Johnny steps himself into the bathroom and cleans himself up and when he comes back out, he’s already dressed and fixing his hair in the mirror before heading toward the door.

“Wait,” You panic, lifting up quickly and feeling a bit light headed at the sudden movement, “You’re leaving?”

He smiles at you, nodding. Everything else you do as a newcomer may be fairly expected, but it’s rare when Johnny ends up with someone who doesn’t want him to leave after.

“I do have a day job, you know,” He tries to play it off as a joke, but he really didn’t think you expected him to stay. “Stay here and rest up. Check out is tomorrow at eleven so feel free to enjoy the room. Not sure if you noticed, but it’s one of the nicest hotels in the city.”

Oh. Right, you didn’t notice. After all, when you got to the door the room practically didn’t exist to you outside of the floor in front of the bed, the bed, and the ceiling.

“Red.” You say, unsure if it’ll work.

“Doesn’t work like that, sweetheart.” He finds it sweet, but dangerous nevertheless. He doesn’t sleep over with his fetish website meetups. He’s here to bring you pleasure and pain sexually, not emotionally. “Like I said, you’ve got my number.”

You’re silent, watching him turn the knob on the door.

“Oh and,” He pauses, turning to look at you. “Don’t go off with other randoms from the site. Some of them don’t offer the kindness I offered to you today. Ease into it, I’ll be around to help if you need me.”

Wondering if he’s implying that you should only see him when it comes to this sexual dynamic, you nod to him, trying to ignore the fact that he claimed “kindness” was being offered to you. If this was him being kind, you can’t help but wonder what he’s like when he’s…you know, not.

#nct smut #johnny suh smut #johnny smut #nct 127 smut #nct x reader

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ghostly-omens · 4 months

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Anyway Quackity was one of the people on DSMP who was most involved in and invested in lore. Las Nevadas and the Butcher Army and the Red Banquet and everything with L'Manberg. He clearly loved telling the story he wanted to tell and playing on a roleplay server.

But a lot of creators have pointed out that the most fun they had on the server was when they were doing improv, when they were reacting to things that happened and building the story naturally that way. When things got scripted, when creators had to come up with and write and execute their lore basically on their own, when it stopped being playing and started being acting, that's when you got players disengaging and losing interest and motivation. By the end, literally every bit of lore was scripted. Most of it was prerecorded just so it could end up telling a complete story, instead of starting a dozen plot threads that had to be abandoned when the other people involved didn't answer your DMs or the big lore day that was meant to move the whole server's story along didn't happen. The last big, whole-server lore event only happened because Technoblade was dying. Communication was so bad that was the only thing that could get everyone to get organised enough for a single day of lore, a story event that had been set up for months.

And so when Quackity comes up with his own server, he wants it to have a strong roleplay element (if that's what the other creators involved end up wanting). Quackity loved his roleplaying on DSMP. But he wants it to be fun for the creators as well as for the fans, and the way lore was fun on DSMP was for it to be improv, not for it to be creators acting out a script. But things got scripted because once they set up a story, it had to escalate in a specific way in order for it to be narratively satisfying, which made it less fun. A single arc is fine, but things just won't work for more than that without at least a loose script. By the end DSMP wasn't roleplay, it was acting. Some creators managed to tell satisfying stories, but it wasn't the same as when it was a bunch of friends messing around doing Hamilton Breaking Bad improv because it was fun. The DSMP, for a good chunk of its life, was not fun to play on. So people didn't.

But how do you set up satisfying, coherent stories over a long period of time while also maintaining the fun roleplay element? Someone needs to guide them and develop them, but it can't be the creators on a server if you're going to keep the fun roleplay element.

Hence the admins, and their role not just maintaining the server, but in developing and guiding the story. Their role is basically a GM, in tabletop roleplaying terms, and the creators get to be player characters roleplaying in reaction to that. Creators don't know much more than we do; how many times have creators said they don't get told shit, have they been told to log on and been faced with huge big developments they didn't see coming and have to figure out how to roleplay that? QSMP works kind of like Dungeons and Dragons but in Minecraft. Keeps the story consistent and escalating, without the need for creators to sacrifice their own enjoyment of their content.

I don't know how stuff like Karmaland works, maybe Quackity got it from there. But as a former Dream SMP fan, I see Quackity taking the best part of DSMP and finding a way to make it work for something a lot more sustainable and ambitious, keeping it fun and enjoyable for both fans and creators.

#qsmp #he saw something good that didnt quite work and he made it better!#good for him!#i had a lot of feelings about how qsmp is set up so thoughtfully okay #its designed to be fun and enjoyable for everyone that was quackitys approach!#it worked!

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saturnville · 6 months

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40 days n 40 nights.

pairing; shuri udaku x black!fem!reader (kalila)

warning; toxicity. language. emotional manipulation. allusions to smut. descriptions of smut 18+ content.

reference; 40 days n 40 nights — mariah the scientist, vory

overview; in which two exes reunite briefly after ending their toxic relationship.

tags (people who recently interacted with my shuri fics): @neeville @pocketsizedpanther @l-o-v-e-galore @cosmic-parker

Toxicity used to be as foreign concept. At one point, healthy was all she knew. Open, honest, respectful communication and treatment from her partner to herself. It was easily acceptable. It was what she needed to thrive; it was what she required.

Kalila felt like a fool when she lowered the walls that guarded her soft heart. The sweet nothings and gentle kisses that the lips of the Queen shared, altered her brain chemistry in a way she couldn’t explain.

No longer was she headstrong and adamant about what she deserved. She didn’t stand on business. No, she was weak in the knees for the Queen, the Panther, for her. Whatever to keep her majesty satisfied, she was prepared to give it all.

Naivety was her downfall.

What she failed to understand, was that the deep desire to please her at any cause, stripped her of her dignity, honor, and self-respect. Subject to mistreatment as a result, Kalila’s eyes began to open. The rose-colored glasses fell and reality sunk in. Her loyalty was taken advantage of. Her kindness was laughed at. The love she gave was not enough. She was not enough. She came to be nothing but a body to keep the bed warm while the Queen did what a Queen had the pleasure of doing; whatever she wanted.

It took months to build the courage to end the relationship. How easy could it be to remove oneself from the most intense union they’d found themselves in? The one where while the pros were numerous, the cons extended themselves past the acceptable limit.

The worst part was; she didn’t care. She had no interest in fighting to keep her, working to change. Kalila’s world crumbled. Her heart tore in two, her lungs constricted, and her mind fogged. Suddenly, substances were her lover and they fucked her good; to the point where she’d be in an orgasmic haze from the strategic stroking of her brain.

She mentally smacked herself each time she thought or her. The Queen, the Panther, Shuri. The best and worst thing to ever happen to her. Kalila wondered what she was up to. Probably living her life; on a flight to a new country where she’d serenade a woman into being her lover for the night before retreating the following morning, intrigued when the women followed her like a lost child. Kalila knew it all too well—it was once her.

The room spun. Substances and lack of sleep were a deadly combination. Kalila shook her head. 40 days and 40 nights of endless bullshit. All she had to do was let go. Could it be so hard?

Her music paused briefly at the indication of a text.

S. Udaku. Open the door.

Apparently so.

Kalila’s knees were weak as she stood in front of her. Her knees were weak, her heart pounding, and her most intimate parts jolted at the sight of her. She looked much different than she had a year ago. Her curls were much shorter—she’d cut them—now small tendrils on her head. She retired her tracksuit for a black suit with accompanying loafers. Kalila glanced at the wall clock. It was 9:41pm. Where’d she come from?

Shuri stepped into the apartment with an indescribable dominance that shifted the atmosphere. She was taller in stature, so her neck was lowered to glare into the eyes of Kalila. Both sets of brown eyes were deep and rich, but told different stories.

“What are you doing here?” Kalila’s voice was slow. The door closed behind her and and Kalila’s eyes followed Shuri as she stood in the middle of her apartment. Her long arms were crossed just underneath her belt, and her rings shone under the dim lights.

“Why’d you let me in?” Was the Queen’s response.

Because I missed you. Kalila’s eyes told it all before her mouth did. Shuri gave a humored chuckle, but the stoic look on her face didn’t change. Tight-lipped and unamused.

“Why are you here?” Kalila pressed once more. Shuri was now on the couch. Her long fingers flipped through the magazine on the coffee table. Essence. Then, they ghosted over the lit candle aside it. She didn’t flinch when the flame kissed her fingertips. Slowly, she leaned back against the couch, arm thrown over the back.

Shuri shrugged. “Was in the area. Wanted to say hello. Sit.” As if she was trained, Kalila sat beside her. This was what she wanted; to be next to her, in her presence once again. Why act shy now?

“I see you’re doing well. Business flourishing and all.”Kalila’s eyes snapped up. She started a marketing and consulting agency shortly after her college graduation. It was a rocky start, and Shuri had been there to connect her to the best in the business to assist in its development. Little did Kalila know, her efforts never ceased even once they split.

Kalila, however, was confused as to how she knew the way she was flourishing. At least on the outside. Then she had to remember, Shuri had every resource at her fingertips. Hell, she probably had someone keeping tabs on her at one point. She chose not to think about it further.

“Yeah, things are well.” Her answer was short. “Can you just…why are you here, Udaku? We are--there is no us anymore. You made it clear what you wanted five months ago, and it wasn't me. So, why are you here?" Her voice shook as she spoke, but she spoke with intention.

Shuri's chin raised and her eyebrow quipped. "I had a revelation. You didn't deserve what I put you through, and I'm aware of that. So, simply here to take accountability. That's it."

It was Kalila's turn to raise her eyebrow. It seemed too good to be true. Shuri sighed deeply and turned to face Kalila, whose distrust was written on her face.

"Do you trust me?" Shuri asked. Kalila's response was delayed. Did she? To protect her life, sure. But to protect and honor her emotions, her mental wellbeing, her heart? No, no she didn't.

"In some ways, yes. In others, no. And that's not my fault. It's yours/"

Ouch. Shuri nodded once. "Okay. Let me make it up to you." Those words were dangerous. They were the entryway back into the world of Shuri Udaku, and she wondered if she'd be able to take it.

Kalila spent time contemplating, and it did not go unseen by Shuri. So, the Queen asked her, "What are you thinking about?"

"How I don't want to be hurt by you again."

"I love you too much to hurt you again."

"That's what you said last time."

Silence.

"Let me prove it to you, yeah?" Her slender fingers danced across the roundness of Kalila's face. Fingertips grazed her lips until they fell down her neck. She gave it a soft squeeze. Kalila's eyes fluttered and she leaned into Shrui's body. Shuri took it as an opportunity to graze her lips over Kalila's, whose fell slack and a quiet whimper fell from them. Exactly where she wanted her.

Soon, clothes decorated the floor and their songs of pleasure were on repeat. High and low shifts in pitch and octave. Whistle register with voice cracks when it became too much. Sweaty bodies slipped and slid against one another. A glorious event.

"I love you," the Queen whispered breathlessly in Kalila's ear as she brought her to the edge. "I love you, I love you...it's just us. Always."

If only she stayed true to her word. Kalila woke up by herself. Every remainder of Shuri was eradicated. The only trace of her was the scent of her perfume; strong and dominant, just like her.

Her phone buzzed against the coffee table.

S. Udaku. I'll see you soon.

She knew what that meant. She'd return when she felt like it. That could be days or weeks. Kalila's eyes welled with tears. Another 40 days and 40 nights were wasted, just to start the process all over again.

#saturnville #original writing #original content #original story #black!reader #black love #fic inspo #black reader #queen shuri #shuri udaku #princess shuri #shuri x reader #black panther #shuri x afab!reader #shuri x woc!reader #shuri x black!reader #fic inspired by a song #fic inspired by music #40 days and 40 nights by saturnville

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genericpuff · 27 days

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I don't know the term for creators who became popular outside the traditional steps to "make it" in their profession; then when people started taking their work seriously and giving them criticism, these creators saw it as an attack because they are not used to mentors and studies.

Smythe's professional training is vague at best, being a folklorist. Then there's the creator of the popular hell cartoon that became her own executive producer and director in her 20s (I'm not going to say her name since it tends to attract her rabid fans) and becomes reactive to any kind of criticism on Twitter. Then there's that TikToker Devon Rodriguez, who became popular for sketching people on subways, and when an art critic gave a mild review to his art gallery, Devon unleashed his fans on him.

Like am I seeing a pattern here for artists? And I guess, what do you think we can learn from it.

Ah, so this is a very interesting (and broad) topic that we've touched on in discussions in ULO and other webtoon-related communities. So buckle up, it's time for an ✨essay✨

I think the best way I can sum up my thoughts on this issue is: the vast majority of people who become paid content creators don't seek out a job as content creators, a job in content creation is just something that happens to them.

I say "content creation" because this is something that applies to a lot of other platforms and online mediums as well, such as the examples you included (TikTok, Youtube, Twitch, etc.). And don't get me wrong, it's not like every successful content creator out there didn't work their asses off to get to where they are, but for many... it still involves an element of luck. People don't go to school for it, people don't "apply" to become influencers, and much of it relies entirely on just making stuff until it gets seen and propelled into success.

I think a lot of these issues arise with the creators themselves and how they view their own work. The reality is that many of us artists have been treated as the "rejects" of society, we constantly feel like we're misunderstood and have some deep inner pain that we express through our art, and instead of going to therapy, we come up with OC's. It's a lot more fun and it's a lot cheaper LOL Webcomics naturally wind up being the perfect lightning rod for people who feel that way, where we can pour ourselves into the characters, the world, the narrative, in a way that perfectly mixes our talents for art and our need to express our innermost thoughts and feelings about ourselves and the world around us. So when our art gets criticized or rejected ... it can be hard for a lot of artists to not feel like it's a criticism of the self, a rejection of our identities, an attack on our feelings and experiences, because we've tied so much of ourselves to our work. And this can make that transition very difficult for people who are trying to go pro, because being professional demands separating yourself from your work, at least enough that you can view it objectively, recognize its flaws, seek out pathways to improvement, and not take every bump in the road personally.

A lot of successful creators are people who just never made that transition. It's led to an abundance of professional creators who know how to film themselves or react to content or, in the case of webcomic artists, write stories about their OC's, but don't know how to actually navigate the industry at a professional level. They don't know how to read and negotiate contracts, they don't know what deals are actually good for them and which ones are better left on the table, they don't know how to manage teams of people, they don't know how to react to the attention, praise, and criticism of their audience - they're just doing what they've always done, but now they're making money doing it.

None of this is to speak ill in any way of the creators who've found success and are still just doing what they've always done for money. None of this is meant to be a slight on the creators who are using webcomics and art as an expression of their deeper selves (I do it myself, it's very cathartic!) because ultimately that's what makes your work your work, the fact that you made it, with all your good parts and bad. Many of these creators are capable of running their platform without any issues because they've learned how to play the game, or because their platform is made up of people just like them so their audience is more like just a social circle.

But many of them still also can't operate on a professional level and those are the ones we often see getting called out and held accountable when they do shit like, I dunno, scamming their audiences for money or making alt accounts to manipulate user reviews or plagiarizing from other people's work or just being really REALLY shitty to their own audience.

Often times these are people who are just doing what they'd normally do as a hobby, became well known for it, and managed to turn it into a living. But they never actually learned how to turn their hobby into a job, and themselves into professionals.

And artists especially are prone to this because, let's face it, a lot of us are just weebs having fun drawing our blorbos, so of course if we get a chance to monetize that, we're gonna! We should! We should want to be paid for our work and time and efforts!

But we also have to remember that it's a different ballgame, especially if you're turning your audience into customers. "I'm just a baby creator doing this for fun" doesn't and shouldn't apply anymore once you start signing contracts, selling your art as products, taking people's money to fund your projects, etc. because now it's not just your art, it's what you're expecting people to pay for so you can eat and pay your bills and live.

As much as our art is often personal and should be cherished as such, you can't expect people to want to pay for it if you're not setting a bar and meeting it, or if you're not treating your audience with any amount of dignity or respect.

I'm not saying you're not entitled to having feelings or still wanting to treat your art as art, but the line between art and products is there for a reason, it's to set people's expectations and ensure that both sides are having those expectations met. Webtoon creators suffer from the same thing that a lot of Youtube creators and other types of content creators suffer from in this transition, and I feel like HBomberGuy summed it up best:

"In current discourse, Youtubers simultaneously present as the forefront of a new medium, creative voices that need to be taken seriously as part of the 'next generation of media' - and also uwu smol beans little babies who shouldn't be taken seriously when they rip someone off and make tens of thousands of dollars doing it."

It's not gatekeeping a medium, it's not telling people they aren't allowed to have feelings or to want to still have that personal connection to their work in spite of the professional level it's achieved, it's simply just expecting people to actually live up to the label of 'professional' that they're using to make money.

And this especially goes for someone like Rachel, who claims to be a 'folklorist' despite all the contrary evidence that says otherwise. This is the same person who copy pasted the first result on Google as her source on a simple word definition:

There's a second part to that HBomberGuy quote that also actually applies to Rachel really well in this discussion, concerning how she labels herself a "folklorist" and how that's affected and influenced the greater discussion surrounding Greek myth:

"But on the opposite end, Youtubers who act like serious documentarians gain a shroud of professionalism which then masks the deeply unprofessional things they do. We just saw that with James. I think [James] partially got away with what he's doing for so long because he acts so professional about it, so people assume, 'there's no way he could just be stealing shit!' so they don't check. And on top of that, a lot of James' videos contain obvious mistakes and made-up facts... but because they're often presented next to well-researched stuff he stole, no one questions it. I've seen James repeat a lie in his videos, and then other people claim it's true, and link his video as the proof. He has helped to solidify misinformation by seeming like he's doing his diligence."

There's always going to be discourse over what's legitimate and what isn't when it comes to Greek myth, there are loads of things we still don't know simply due to the knowledge being lost to time. But there's something to be said about a white New Zealand woman using her self-insert romance comic and platform to build a veneer of professionalism and legitimacy around herself, as if she's the authority on the subject, while simultaneously relying on first result Google searches and citing works that have no real foothold in the way of scholarly or "folklorist" discussion.

All that's to say, you're right, her professional training is vague at best. She's never completed a longform comic prior to LO, she's not doing her due diligence in actually engaging with the media she's trying to "retell" and exposing herself to the voices of those from the culture that's tied to it, and she's not holding herself to any sort of standards when it comes not only to being a professional, but a professional who's been held on a pedestal for all these years. She's still operating the same way she was 5 years ago - drawing and writing whatever pops into her head and sending it to her editor for uploading, with next to no intervention or guidance. Except now it doesn't have the benefit of being new and having "potential", it's getting noticed and called out more now than ever because it's been 5 years of this shit and it's been getting worse on account of her clearly being burnt out (or just giving up/not caring) and the readers can't be sold on "potential" anymore.

And that's all I have to say on that.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

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purelyfiction · 2 years

Text

Small Doses

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x F!Reader | Part 2 |

Summary: Being top of your class comes with great opportunities and even better company, save for the obnoxious, devilishly handsome assholes who make you fall harder than you intended. Returning to North Island makes Knockout reunite with a ghost from her past, and forced to face the possibilities of the future.

Word Count: 7,032 words

Content Warning: This story will have TopGun: Maverick plot line elements to it and will possibly spoil the movie for you. Please be aware. This - and all of my stories - is 18+. By continuing to read you agree that you are 18 or older and that any content you come across is by your own discretion. || HEY THERE’S SMUT DOWN THERE SO YOU BETTER BE 18!!! (protected piv, fingering, just really hot and reckless nonsense)

Author’s Note: heyyyyy we’re here again, who’s surprised? not me.....nope. anyways, i really loved the idea i had behind this one, and i can’t wait to get it rolling. a huge huge HUGE thank you goes to @callsignthirsty for making this as hot as it is - I couldn’t have done it without her, she’s incredible and a true MVP for Beta reading what kind of was a mess to start with. Thank you Rowdy!!!

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What’s the old saying? Love is the loneliest place, when you fall alone?

No truer words had been spoken.

Leaving boot camp in Nevada had felt like a death sentence. Simultaneously one of the best and worst days of your life. Best, because your career was just beginning, you were turning a new page. Worst, because you had to start all your friendships over again. You had to leave him.

Maybe that’s why you threw everything you had into your career. You ate, lived, and breathed the Navy. First to rise, last to fall. People joked that it was your only personality trait, and in a way that was true.

You had common hobbies, no wild interests, and very few friends outside of work. There was no point when you were changing bases every three years. The friends you made at work were enough to keep you content.

Or so you convinced yourself. With each wedding you’re invited to, every birthday party, you realized you don’t have the support system or community that others had. You had your grandfather, your aunt, and your cousin, but the loss of your dad had been hard for you. Especially fresh out of high school.

Aside from your extended family, you didn’t have many friends. That’s a lie. You had Jake. Sort of. He wasn’t a complete asshole to you despite the way the two of you parted. He would respond when you reached out and you’d reconnect maybe once or twice a year. Called on each other’s birthdays. That was about the extent of it.

You hated that you still kept in touch with him despite how cruel he’d been to you that last day. But it was hard to let him go. He popped into your mind way more frequently than you cared to admit, especially when you knew you didn’t need the distraction.

So, you focused your attention on your career, instead. You flew through ranks as fast as your jets, bending with the wind and turning with the tide.

You’d made it to TOPGUN and frankly - it was hell. It was everyone out for themselves, and begging to be the admiral’s pet. The time you spent in North Island had not been pleasant. You’d learnt a million lessons while you were there: including how hard it was to be lonely.

Upon your promotion five years out, you were back in San Diego; no longer Lieutenant, but Lieutenant Commander.

The promotion has you electrified; suddenly, being back at TOPGUN wasn’t so daunting.

Especially since you were teaching this time around.

You settled right into your spot and quickly became Cyclone’s right hand. He had confidence in your skills and it showed, since he basically gave you free reign with your lessons. It was encouraging, how he spoke with you. Many of your conversations were natural and free flowing and it made you feel less isolated. Like you weren’t stranded - a sharp comparison to your first time on North Island.

When pilots came up to Fightertown, they would nearly pull out of the program when they heard your callsign.

One of the recruits had stood from his chair, on his way out and you cleared your throat. “Man, no. No fucking way. I’m out.”

“Sailor,” you bit. “You weren’t dismissed.” He slunk back to his chair, pulling it away from the desk where he’d shoved it back to its place. Slow steps found you standing next to his table looking down at him. “What’s wrong…” you glanced at his badge. “Jones? You bolted out of here pretty quickly,” you asked as he avoided your gaze.

“I’ve just heard rumors.”

“Rumors about what?” You crossed your arms, still looking at him.

His eyes finally steel back up at you. “You, Lieutenant Commander. With a callsign like Knockout… people talk.”

A grin fills your face when you hear your callsign. There was one point during your training that you’d hated the name. It had originated from one of your squad members when you’d begun boot camp.

A whistle fills the air as you approach the registration table. “Damn, look at her.”

“What a knockout.”

That name got spun on its axis the minute you got to the training grounds, outperforming the other ensigns, and breaking records left and right. Soon enough, your friends were using it, your commanders were using it - and Knockout was born.

You smiled at him before turning back to the front and walking to the lectern. “Well… they’re true. This career isn’t easy, and neither am I. ‘Soon as you realize that-” you give a cocky smile before the class, “-you’re golden.”

You loved your job, there was never any doubt about that. Especially when you got the chance to shut down the sexists that come into the ranks. Showing off your skill set and training them in the air to become better pilots and better people was one of your favorite things in the world.

The location isn’t a negative thing either. For as much grief as it had given you - some of the hardest days of your career - North Island bettered you. The town was small and the people all knew each other pretty intimately. So, as you come off the beach and into the Hard Deck in your bathing suit, you wave at a few familiar faces.

“No shoes, no shirt-” Penny starts at the sight of you and you smile as she hands you the bag you’d dropped off before going on your run on the beach.

“No service. I know, I know.” You let a laugh pass your lips as you take the bag, and move to the bathroom to change. As you pass by, you hear a comment that was assuredly referencing you.

“Did you see that girl? Man, she was gorgeous. I bet you twenty bucks I can get her number by the time you finish your drink.” You roll your eyes as you enter the bathroom. You’re quick to change into the dress you’d brought, fixing your hair before exiting again and spotting the man who’d made the comment. He follows behind you as you approach the bar again, grabbing Pen’s attention as she takes your bag once again and tucks it away.

“Can I buy the lady a drink?” The asshole careens his head into your peripheral vision, making you look at him with an innocent smirk.

“Maybe. What are we drinking?” you question as you take in his features. He’s pretty broad, kind eyes, and scars littered across a rather handsome face - a bushy mustache on his upper lip. Paired with the Hawaiian shirt and aviators around his collar, you’re certain you’ve found another pilot.

“I was drinking Corona, but if you’ve got a better idea?” He tilts his head and you wave down the other bartender serving with Penny.

“Can we get two tequila shots? On his tab, please.” You smile and turn to look at the male who’s definitely grinning now. When the bartender returns with the shots, lime wedges, and a salt shaker, you slide one over to him before prepping your own. He turns to face you with the shot glass in his hand. You clink your glass quickly with his before licking the salt from your hand, downing the liquid, and chewing on the lime.

“Whoo.” The male makes a face but lets out a laugh. “Didn’t peg you as a tequila girl,” he offers and you shake your head.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you retort, tossing the lime rind into your empty glass.

“I don’t, do I? What’s your name, beautiful?” He grins, leaning into his hand that’s propped up on the bar.

“You first.” You smirk as Penny drops off a tequila soda for you, making the man in front of you laugh.

“Well, clearly Penny knows you,” he offers as he waves her back down. “Can I get something with tequila in it?” he asks quickly, and Penny nods before going to mix him a drink.

“You got it, Rooster.” She gives you a look that you return; both of you well aware of the game that you’re playing.

“Rooster, huh?” You smirk, taking a sip of your drink, playing with the straw floating in your beverage while you make eye contact with focused hazel eyes.

“Yeah, I’m a pilot in the Navy. It’s my callsign. My real name is Bradley,” Rooster explains, just as a drink slides his way.

“I think she knows that.” Penny approaches and you give her a kind smile. “She’s an LCDR for Fightertown, Bradshaw.” You sip innocently at your drink again as a look of surprise and embarrassment falls over Rooster’s face.

“Shit, I am…” he starts, but you wave him off with a laugh.

“Relax. I was having fun. Besides, I got a drink out of it.” You wink, turning rapidly only to crash into someone behind you - a curse leaving you as your drink goes plunging to the floor.

“You gotta be joking.” The voice makes your face light up. The body turns to look at you - the expression on your face is one of surprise and soon, so is theirs.

“Kody!” He’s shouting above the sound of the bar, hands going into the air before pulling you into a hug after you set your empty glass on the bar. You give him a quick hug.

“Seresin, as I live and breathe,” you jape as you come out of the hug. The voice in the back of your mind sounds an alarm, but you’re immediately hitting the snooze button. He was here right in front of you.

“That’s my line,” he chuckles as he points a finger at you. You laugh along with him before looking down at the ground where your drink is puddled. His khakis are absolutely soaked but somehow he seems unphased by this. This is why you didn’t wear your uniform to the bar. Hangman kicks an ice cube before waving down the bartender to let them know about the mishap. “What the hell are you doing here?” he questions, sipping at his drink.

“I’m stationed out here,” you supply with a shrug, smiling at Jake. “You know, flying and stations and all that. Been here for a while now.” The information makes his eyebrows raise.

“You’re back at TOPGUN?” There’s an inkling of surprise to his question and you nod. A moment later, you look toward Penny as she sets another drink on the bar and Jake scoots out of the way to make room for the employee who’s been sent to clean up the mess you’d made.

“Yeah, I got my choice of assignments so I decided to come back,” you offer, walking with him to the pool table, taking a seat at one of the hightops nearby. Hangman leans against the table as he watches the current group playing pool, nodding as Payback sinks a ball into the far pocket.

“You got a choice? We were all dragged here.” He waves his hand, motioning over to the group that’s gathered toward the back of the bar.

“Well, I mean that was months ago, so.” You shrug and take a sip of your drink again before the conversation is interrupted with a ring of the round bell, making you look at Penny to see the sorry sucker who had to pay.

Maverick’s round kickstarts a night that takes your mind back to boot camp. Music blasts through the bar, drinks slosh as everyone dances and sings along with the jukebox. You’ve been waiting for Hangman to return with your next round of drinks, anticipating him and searching in the crowd, only for his hand to appear from behind you as he hands you a drink. His lips graze your ear as he shifts the cup to your hand.

“Pen’s out of Patrón,” he states, making you look in your cup. There’s mint and a lime floating around and you look back at him. There’s a toothpick clenched in his teeth, a smirk on his lips.

“Is this a mule?” you ask and he snickers.

“Oh c’mon, a little vodka ain’t hurt nobody.” He keeps the coy expression, his hand coming to the bottom of the cup in your hand and slowly guiding it to your lips. You laugh and shake your head.

“Okay, okay I’m drinking.” You giggle as you take a swig. The music changes over to a pop song you’re not too familiar with, but it’s got a great vibe. As the beat picks up, the vocals coming in, you’re finding yourself back up with a sway of your hips.

This time when you run into Hangman, it’s intentional. His free hand grips your waist when you make contact as if to steady you, but when your shoulders move back until you’re leaned up against him, he seems to get the idea. You’ve given him plenty of time to step away, but from the tightening of his hand around you, it’s clear that he won’t be stopping you anytime soon. If anything, Hangman pulls you a little tighter against him, strong hand encouraging the rocking grind of your hips into his lap. His breath washes over your neck, lips a hairsbreadth from your ear so that they practically kiss your heated skin. “You’re just picking up where we left off, aren’t you baby.” You can hear the smirk on his face.

When you’d first met Jake, he’d been a lot less cocky. That came with the training and the attention you’d given him over the course of your time together in Nevada. Nearly every waking hour that you weren’t in training or in jobs you’d spent with one another. You’d sneak away wherever you could get into — hall closets, cars, behind buildings, both of your dorms. The two of you had learnt how to keep quiet. He’d learnt where to suck his hickies into your skin without getting you reprimanded by your commanding officers and you made sure to keep your nail marks where no one could see them.

“Of course,” you said, arching your back so that your ass ground deliciously against the front of his khakis. Truthfully, you’d never wanted to leave that spot to begin with. “Where else would we pick up?”

Was it selfish of you to want another night with him? Maybe. But it was definitely stupid; especially after he’d nearly shattered your heart when you’d graduated.

After sweating your ass off standing in the blistering heat for nearly an hour, you’d almost cried when your grandfather grabbed your bicep. You’d hugged him tightly, grabbing onto Penelope who was nearby. You’d not seen or spoken to them in weeks, and they were the only real family you had. Despite the excitement of being reunited, you wanted to find Jake. You wanted to congratulate him - you wanted to say what had been on your mind the last three nights.

Packing up left you with a lot of reminiscing, a lot of time in your head. A lot of replaying lingering touches, careful advances, nights spent together drinking among other things. You were in love with Ensign Jake Seresin and you needed to tell him, before it was too late.

You’d found him in the crowd, happily grabbing his arm as he spoke with his own family. The glare that he shot you was unexpected.

“What? I’m leaving in like five minutes.” The man who’d opened up to you all those nights seemingly had vanished the minute his father was around.

“I just… what the hell, Jake?” You mumble, looking at him.

“What the hell to you. Can’t you see I’m busy?” His dad is grabbing his shoulder and pulling him away from you, leaving you in a sea of white, tears forming in your eyes.

It was like the last 10 weeks had just vanished. There was no Jake there. “Some wingman you are!” you shout in his direction. All you got was the back of his head.

“You make it sound like we’ve got some unfinished business,” the sound of Hangman’s groans brings you back to the bar as he tosses his neck back and finishes his beer. Beer-slick lips press to the delicate skin beneath your ear and you’re anchored back in the present. You follow his lead and try to finish your drink in one gulp, but some of the liquid escapes your lips, trailing down from the corner of your lips and down to your collarbone.

“Slow down, tiger,” Jake growls upon witnessing the alcohol trickling across your skin. “You’ll choke.”

Your stomach flips at the comment, your teeth latching on to your bottom lip to hold in a whine. Certainly wouldn’t be the first time - the words nearly leave your mouth, but you’re not sure you’re willing to admit that to the whole of the bar. You’re taking his cup from his hand, and peeling away from him to dispose of the cups, carelessly tossing them toward Penny behind the bar. When you return, you’re pressing yourself against him, chests both rapidly moving with one another.

One of your hands rests over the top of his as it slides back into place on your hip and rubs circles into your side, your other hand trailing up his firm chest to the sharp line of his jaw, cradling his face into the crook of your neck where he’s decided to hide. He’s just as affected by whatever this is as you are. You can feel it against your hip.

“I can slow down.” As if to drive your point home, your hips roll slow circles against his. You feel a groan leave him, his chest vibrating yours.

“Damn right you can.”

“But you don’t like slow,” you remind him. “You’d rather race to the finish line, all too eager for the reward.”

He nips at your neck which has you throwing your head back. Hangman huffs something into your neck, finally lapping at the beer drying there. “Better be careful there, sweetheart,” he bites and when he reappears from his hiding spot against your skin, his eyes are dark. “That mouth’s gonna get you into trouble.”

“And what if I want it to?” Your eyes are heavy and half-lidded. “We do have some business to take care of, Lieutenant.”

“Christ.” His head reels back, and the way that he says it almost sounds like a whine. “Let’s get outta here.”

“What?” you tease. “You don’t want to hang out here a little longer? I heard Maverick still owes another round,” you tag on as he’s grabbing at your waist, pulling you near.

“I don’t think that Penny’d appreciate it if I fucked you right on the bar in front of all these nice people,” Hangman growls directly into your ear and your jaw slacks at the imagery. “Now, march.”

You’re not going to wait for him to tell you again, so you grab his hand and drag him through the crowd. Penny will make sure that your stuff makes it home, you have arguably more important things to think about.

Hangman is all over you when you get to your front porch. His hands are on your waist, lips attached to yours and doing his damnedest to distract you from getting this damn key into the lock. With the door finally open, he’s following right behind you, not pulling away from you as you stumble over the threshold. You turn, attempting to close the door, but the door’s hard to reach through the wall of pilot driving you further into the house. Eventually, your heel drives the door shut, and a thud comes from behind you that makes the whole house shake.

Jake’s hands are on your hips, pushing you to the nearest wall, bunching the fabric in his big hands. Even after the years you’ve spent apart, there’s so much familiarity in his kiss, and his touch seems to burn through the cotton of your dress, your skin hot and clammy under his hands.

One of his hands vacates the spot on your waist with a final squeeze, instead grabbing both of your wrists in the breadth of his freehand, tugging them so that they’re pressed into the wall above you, secured by his strong grip. His other hand is picking at the hem of your dress, freeing it from your sweat-slick skin.

There’s not an ounce of regret in your body. How could there be when his hand is trailing up your thigh? Not a single word is spoken, the only sound in the house comes from sloppy kisses, the air filled with the smell of the ocean breeze, sweat, tequila, and Tito’s.

Hangman’s hand runs over your skin, massaging at your thigh. He continues to trail greedy fingers dangerously close to your panties, each pass leaves you pulling from his lips, best you can. “We should probably go to my room,” you gasp, voice barely above a whisper as you try not to ruin the moment. If he stops touching you, you’re convinced you might die.

“Oh c’mon, your windows aren’t that big,” he snickers, before he’s latching back onto your neck. A shift of your hips as you attempt to step away signals that you’re moving, with or without him.

Jake groans as he steps back, letting your arms fall but interlaces his fingers with yours as you lead him to your room down the hall. Once there, you hurriedly shut and lock the door before turning back to him. Jake’s already pulling his shirt from the confines of his pants, impatiently undoing buttons. You’re quick to assist, and soon you’re easing the fabric off his shoulders.

Jake’s got his undershirt off in a matter of seconds, hands reaching forward and grabbing at your waist as he kicks off his shoes. He’s guiding you to the foot of your bed, recklessly letting you fall back to the mattress.

“You’re just as stunning as you were then,” he whispers, crawling so that he’s hovering over you, an intense gaze of jade eyes meeting your own. You’re smothering the compliment before its spark can light a fire somewhere deep in you, sweeping it to the back of your mind so that you can relish in each wet kiss that brands your collarbone instead.

Burn me once, shame on you, burn me twice…

A light bite to your skin pulls you back to your room, hearing Jake’s low voice. “Where��s that pretty little head of yours?” he chides, making you look down at him.

“Thinking about how I’m still clothed,” you answer him, a taunting smile before a smirk of his own mirrors yours as his hands push up the fabric of your skirt. Fingers slide along your skin to hook beneath the waist of your panties and expertly shimmy the flimsy fabric from your hips, down your thighs and onto the floor.

“I dunno, I’d really like to see what this pretty sundress of yours looks like all bunched up at your waist while I’m balls deep in your pretty pussy,” he rasps as his hand trails nonsensical patterns along your thighs, drinking in every inch of you he can get his eyes on.

“Why don’t you find out?” You quip, and if your ass was in the air, you would’ve shaken it to entice him into doing something, but as it is he takes what you say as an invitation. Calloused hands skim along the inside of your thighs before talented fingers glide between your folds, spreading your slick without dipping into your heat as he keeps an intense gaze on your pleasure-slack lips. Your hips are moving of their own accord, squirming to try and get his fingers where you need them most, but he avoids your clit too regularly to be unintentional.

Jake’s lip curls up in a smug imitation of a smile when you whine. “You’re absolutely soaked.” His touch finally lands on your clit, applying enough pressure to make you suck in a breath, your eyes fluttering closed. “All this for me?”

“Yes,” you groan, rolling your hips into his hand for more of the sweet stimulation.

“You got no shame, do you darlin’?” Jake chuckles at your needy display, the throaty reverberations raising goosebumps on your skin where his lips pepper kisses. “Bet you saw me and just knew you needed my cock again, huh?” A finger buries itself in your heat, a slick, effortless glide up to his knuckle that has a moan slipping from your kiss-stung lips.

“Yeah,” you sigh, breath hitching as Jake curls his finger against the front wall of your cunt. “I missed you, fuck I missed you.” He’s seemingly content with the whine that leaves you as he slides a second finger into your heat and begins a torturously slow pace, stretching you out as his thumb draws lazy circles into your clit. Each press and swirl of those fingers drawing another soft whimper from you and fueling his ego.

“Oh yeah, princess. You need it bad, don’t you?” And you’d have liked to punch that arrogant sneer off his lips if he didn’t look so fucking hot propped over you, muscles in his shoulders shifting in your lamp’s soft light as he held himself over you and worked his fingers in and out of your soaked folds. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he began, licking a stripe up your neck and catching the corner of your jaw between his pearly teeth, “You been with anyone else since me?”

“Fuck you,” you bite back, because it’s been almost a decade since he saw you last. You weren’t a nun.

“Kitty’s got claws,” he teases as he squeezes a third finger into you. “Bet they haven’t been as good as me,” he muses. “No, you’re way too needy for that. They haven’t been satisfying you out here.” And you could die because he isn’t wrong and you hate that he’s seen straight through you not three hours since you’ve met back up. “Tell me, princess. After they leave, am I the one you think of to get yourself off?” Your hopeless moan is, mortifyingly, answer enough.

“Fuck, that’s hot, Knockout,” he groans into your ear as his fingers leave your cunt clenching around nothing. He draws his hand up to his mouth, lips wrapping around them as he pulls them from the heat of his mouth that you so badly wished was elsewhere right now.

“It’s like riding a bike, ain’t it babydoll?” A wicked grin splits his face and you let out an exhausted sigh at his arrogance.

“Would you shut the fuck up?” You bite as you slide a finger under the chain around his neck, looping the metal around the digit and pulling him down to you, your lips crash together. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips as your fingers continue to play with his necklace, the tags clinking against one another as you mess with them. Your own dog tags sat on your dresser not even five feet away. That was one of the few things you shared with him. That and whatever the hell this was.

Jake’s hands move to settle flat against the bed by your shoulders, caging you in as you steal his breath, hungry lips slotting together as his hips meet yours in a needy roll. The rough fabric of his slacks irritates your skin as he grinds into you, feeling the strain of his cock through the material. “Take your fucking pants off,” you growl, reaching toward his belt - in a flash, he’s on his knees grabbing your wrists again and throwing your entire body into a spin so your face is flat to the mattress. Hands roughly grabbing at your hips and pulling them up to keep your ass propped in the air.

“Last I checked, I was in charge, sweetheart.” You're reminded of how much larger he is than you when his hand easily grabs both of your wrists, crossing them behind your back and pulling ever so gently so that your shoulder blades are stretching the slightest bit. A whine leaves you and you can feel his presence grow closer until his hips are locked to yours again, leaning down to growl in your ear. “You don’t move. Understood?”

“I understand.” You confirm, only before his other hand is gripping your hair and tilting your head enough to look back at him.

“Wanna try that again?” He questions you with a dry coarseness to his voice, as though he’d not had a sip of water in days.

“Yes, sir.” You correct yourself, the statement somewhat foreign on your tongue. It had been a minute since you’d spoken it, in this context at least. With him.

Jake is upright again, pulling your body back to meet with his cock as it drags along the crease of your ass. The metal of his belt buckle sends a cool chill up your spine, a stark contrast to the heat pouring off of Jake’s body. His spare hand has left your head, and now is running carefully over your backside, slowing to a halt as he grabs a handful of your ass, spreading your cheeks to get a good look. “God, look at this. This is mine, isn’t it baby?”

“If it’s yours, why don’t you come and get it?” You retort, keeping a careful eye on him, only to see his jaw clench.

“So you wanna be smart about this, huh?” His grip tightens, his free hand returning to the back of your head and you’re nearly positive your wrists will be sore - possibly even bruised. He jolts your head to force you to make eye contact with him - the green of his irises long gone, lust dominating them. Jake lets your hair slip through grasp, hands dropping to meet the clasp of his belt, hastily undoing the latch and sliding the leather from the belt loops.

“I am smart, Hangman,” You can’t stop the way your lip ticks up or the mischievous spark lighting in your eye as you glance back at him. The brief glance you get is the sight of a foil packet between his teeth, furrowed brow included as you continue to taunt him: “I’m very smart.”

"And I—" you feel the blunt tip of him nudging at your slick entrance before he's pushing in. You let out a high pitched keen at the delicious friction as he slides home. "—am too good to be true.” His hand slides up your lower back, gripping your hip as he bottoms out, a quiet gasp leaves you.

“Not so smart now, are we, Knockout?”

“Hangman,” you seethe, scraping together every last bit of willpower you have. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I swear to G-Ahh!”

“Relax,” Hangman chides, hips retreating before they shift forward once more, “we’re just getting to the good part.”

A chill runs through you as his movement begins into a rhythm, one hand holding onto your wrists with what feels like all of his strength, the other keeping your hips still as his own collide with yours in each thrust.

“Good as you remember it, Kody?” Hangman asks, jerking your arms back so your chest lifts off the mattress for a second. He grinds against your sweet spot and you couldn’t stop the moan, even if you’d wanted to. “No, wait.. It’s better, ain’t it?”

Despite the ball of tension building in your stomach as his body rocks into yours, the response slips off your tongue, well knowing what the context would do. “I don’t know, I think Rooster might’ve been better if I’d given him a shot.”

He goes completely still the moment the words register, and for one terrifying moment, you think he's going to stop. But the words fuel something primal within him. The next rut of his hips into yours pushes you further up the bed, and he's somehow managed to push deeper into you, brushing against spots that haven't seen action in years. The hand around your wrists tugs until you're on your knees, leaning back against him as his other hand circles your neck and applies light, intoxicating pressure.. “Get that son of a bitch’s name out of your fucking mouth.” His teeth are sharp against the lobe of your ear. “Who’s cock is in you, Knockout?”

“Yours.” His grip on your throat tightens, ever so slightly. “Yours, sir.”

“That’s right, babydoll.” Warm lips hover over the skin under your ear. The next snap of his hips has you choking on a moan. "Only name I wanna hear you screaming tonight is mine." The statement is engulfed by the flames raging in your stomach.

“That all you know how to say now?” Jake asks with a breathy chuckle. “Yes, sir?” He groans at the sob that wracks your body, pussy clenching around him hot and tight. Your body desperately sucks in a breath, barely able to get any in with the grip of his hand still around your throat. “Look at you, gaggin’ for it. You’re such a needy little thing, baby.”

You throw your head back against his shoulder, embarrassingly close to the edge and lost to the push and pull of his cock against your sensitive walls. How had you survived without this for so long? Had the others really been that bad?

This thought, like all the others, is fucked from your mind with the next sinful roll of Jake’s hips. “Guess some things never change, Kody. All it takes to shut you up is my cock.” You whimper, nodding as you try to rock your hips to match his pace. “You gonna cum for me, baby?” Your eyes shut as you feel the hot breath of his pants on your skin, in a steady rhythm with each thrust up into you. “I think you are, I can feel it,” the words are broken up by tempoed pants, until his hands are back to your waist, “I wanna watch. Put on a show for me.”

A whine leaves you when he’s pulling out of you, but in short time, he’s rolling you onto your back again. You’re expecting him to slide into you again, but instead, arms come under thighs and pull you up from the mattress. In no more than five steps, he’s found a spot against the wall, dropping you up against it. With your back flush to the cool of the drywall, Jake’s filling you up again, arms flexing as he holds you up, keeping you above the ground as hips grind into yours. Each thrust is purposeful and harder than the last, the vibration of his movements echoing through the room, making furniture shift in time with his hips. Your head falls back to meet the wall as your core engages with each rut.

Jake carefully moves his hand to adjust your leg out, aiming to get even deeper, but with the change in position, your foot makes contact with a nearby lamp, sending it careening to the floor, glass crushing upon impact. “You asshole-“

“Worry about it later,” he snarls, lips quickly capturing yours as his rhythm starts to falter. Each snap up makes your entire body bounce upward, your stomach beginning to tense.

“Jay-Jake,” you’re pulling from his lips, desperate to get air as you grow closer to your climax.

“I know, sweetheart, I’ll get you there, I’ll get you, cmon.” His statement isn’t even coherent at this point as your body reaches the threshold, your blood rushing through you as your legs shake under him, cries reverberating through the room with each grunt from the blonde under you. “Fuck, look at you, did I do that? I did that, didn’t I baby?” His breathing hitches, strokes becoming shorter as he matches your timing to draw your high out. An elongated groan pairs with the slight shake that runs through him, his forehead coming to your shoulder to come down from the high.

“You broke my lamp,” you mutter.

Jake just clicks his tongue. “It was your leg,” he responds, hands carefully grabbing under you, navigating around the broken glass to find refuge in your bed, away from the dangers on the hardwood below.

“You broke it.”

“Are we still on this? You know I should be hearing ‘wow, Jake. That was incredible, thank you for making me cum’.” He pulls your sheets back and carefully drops you onto your bed, your head plopping onto your pillow before he falls to your side. Both of you are still somewhat dressed, energy spent.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you retort with a smirk, looking at him as his eyebrows furrow.

“For someone who just got fucked you’re giving me a lot of back talk.” He’s pulling his slacks all the way off now, having been tugged down just enough to get the job done. You sit up carefully to pull your dress completely off. A yawn escapes you as you’re attempting to release the clasp of your bra, feeling hands coming to the spot at the middle of your back, worn fingertips carefully undoing it.

“You’ve been waiting to do that, haven’t you?” You look down at him, seeing a grin fill his face as the garment comes off and to the floor.

“Eh, the show I got might’ve been better.” Jake responds as his hand grabs at your sheets and covers the both of you.

“Since when is Hangman not a boob man?” you question as you settle into the sheets, looking him in the eye.

“Now, wait a minute, I never said that-“

“Go to bed, Jake.” You grin, rolling away from him, reaching and flicking off the light switch to the lamp in a pile on the floor.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Knock knock

You shoot up in your bed, his arm is lazily draped over your waist, making it fall as you sit up. When your brain registers, you’re quickly turning to a stirring Jake, your hand slapping over his mouth.

“Kody? You awake yet?” Penny’s voice comes from the other side of the wood door, leaving you to clear your throat.

“Yeah, I’m up.” You stifle back a yawn as Jake tries to get your attention. Using your free hand you slap his arm keeping him quiet.

“I need you to run and grab Amelia from Karen’s house, I have to get some cleaning done at the bar, things got a bit out of hand last night,” she explains and you nod.

“Sure, I can do that. That’s Karen M or Karen T?” you ask for clarification, slowly looking to the male in your bed, who’s just dying to get a word in.

“T. You know, the one on Silvershore?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s like ten minutes from here. Let me hop in the shower and I’ll run over.”

“Sounds good, thanks Kody.” Penny’s voice begins to fade as she walks away, leaving you to pull your hand from Jake’s jaw.

“Don’t mention it!” You’re looking over the state of your room, Hangman’s clothes are strewn about, glass all over the floor.

“Was that who I think it was?” Finally the pilot speaks beside you as you start to climb from your bed from the safest exit point.

“Penny? Yeah,” you answer, grabbing all of his clothes off the floor.

“You live with Penny Benjamin?” he questions, making you look at him with a sharp glare, hands pushing his clothes into his arms.

“Hey genius, my last name is also Benjamin,” you remind him as you grab your robe from a nearby chair. “She’s my aunt. I could’ve sworn you knew this,” you jab in his direction as he shrugs his shirt back on.

“Maybe I did, it probably got shoved- shit!” At the curse you look over and witness him examining one of the seams from his khaki trousers. “I broke the seam, damn it this is the only pair I was issued.” He groans, moving to stand up from the bed.

“Well maybe you should’ve thought about that before fucking me in them,” you scold, moving and undoing the latch on your window.

“What are you doing?” he asks, stepping into his pants, fastening the top as you slide the pane open.

“Preparing your exit - now hurry up?” You fan a hand in the air, trying to get him to move faster.

“Knockout, I am not climbing out of your window.”

“You don’t have much of a choice,” you sneer as he finishes buttoning up his shirt. With shoes back on his feet and ensuring he’s got the rest of his belongings, he points to what remains of the lamp.

“It was an ugly lamp anyways.” Jake shrugs, making you look at him with a slacked jaw.

“It’s Tiffany! Well-“ looking back at it, you correct yourself, “-it was. God, Pen’s gonna kill me,” you mumble with your hand over your mouth as you take a deeper look at the damage. There’s no salvaging it, that’s for sure.

“She named her lamp?” The idiotic question makes you turn to look at the man, one leg out the window, his hand gripping the top of it to keep him from falling.

“You don’t know- I don’t have time for this. Go.” You shoo him with your hands as though he was a loitering bird, making him snicker.

“I’ll call you?” Your attention was facing the door when he says it, making you look at him as he drops to the ground outside - thank God you’re on the main floor.

“What was that?” you ask again, just to make sure your ears weren’t playing tricks on you.

“I said I’ll call you,” Jake repeats before a hand rakes through his hair in an effort to tame any bed head.

There’s that stupid spark again that you have to stomp under your boot.

“Yeah. Get out of here, Hangman.” You give a falsified smile to him, watching as he starts down the path.

“Until next time, Knockout.” With a trademark wink, he rounds the corner of the house, leaving you to wonder if you’d made a mistake.

One time wouldn’t hurt - right?

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Did you like what you read? Consider buying me a coffee!

Tagged by request: @discoseal @that-cute-stranger @caswinchester2000 @inglourious-imagines @ssaic-jareau @kana-austin @mochminnie @kyleed24 @americaarse @thesunsetphantoms @not-leaprvt @gayforsteve @turningtoclown @nyotamalfoy @alainabooks143 @sodonebruh @straightforwardly @luckyladycreator2 @marchingicenotes7 @startterfly @pheonist @the-hottest-lieutenants @paintballkid711 @melancholyy-hill

Please find my tag sheet in my pinned message on my blog!

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #seresin x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #jake seresin smut #hangman smut #hangman x reader smut #hangman x knockout #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #Jake Seresin fanfiction #hangman fanfiction #Jake Seresin smut #top gun smut #top gun maverick smut

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copperbadge · 9 months

Text

Well, Still Salty.

I was cranky yesterday and I thought a good night's sleep would provide some adjustment in perspective, but unfortunately "spending yesterday not on tumblr" also offered perspective and got there first.

Up front: feel free to comment or reblog on this post (replies may be heavily delayed) but if you feel the urge to Like, I'm going to ask you to take one more step and go to https://www.tumblr.com/support, select "feedback" as the category, and enter a line or two about the new dash. It can be as simple as "Your new dash design is difficult to use and is driving people off the site". I'm not asking everyone to do it, but if you're going to Like this post, that would be a helpful action in addition. You can delete any response they send; no reason to expose yourself to the unique combination of incompetence and condescension with which they handle feedback generally.

Also up front: yeah, if I find somewhere else to go and go there, I will certainly let you guys know beforehand, I'm not going to just evaporate. I'll be broadcasting about Tumblr's replacement on Tumblr very heavily. But I can't deny that it is now an active goal of mine to find a viable replacement for this site. (More on this in a moment.) You will always be able to find me on AO3 as copperbadge, or via [email protected]. (More on this in a moment also.)

This kind of thing is why I refuse to fuck with staff now or ever; I don't trust them and I never will. Watching @wip respond to almost every complaint or suggestion with "but that would be really hard" is telling. Whoever is pushing blocks around at Tumblr wants a lucrative site that's easy to code, but lucrative is hostile to community and code is difficult by nature, and when the architecture of the meeting hall is hostile and cheap, people don't stick around.

I've been watching the site as every change made it incrementally worse, from a buggy post window that doesn't allow ease of editing to the new dash (which is the reason I'm writing this in a text window off Tumblr). I genuinely do not think I can use desktop Tumblr like this unless I can install something that will put it back the way it was, and roughly 40% of the content you guys get HAS to come through desktop. It's impossible to do on a phone or so time-consuming it's not worth it. I cannot code Radio Free Monday on a phone; it's a struggle to code it on a single-monitor laptop (I usually write it on my work computer, where I have two monitors). Even writing image IDs on the phone is difficult and something I rarely do. Tumblr is becoming an actively difficult place for me to make content, introducing friction left and right.

But where does one go? I've tried other platforms and they're either worse to use or they don't have the constituency. The problem with a lot of discourse around internet addiction is that it often points out how glued people are to their phones without asking what it is they're doing on those phones. I'm not addicted to social media; I don't doomscroll, I don't care what celebrities have to say, I don't find 140 characters useful or interesting, I don’t find most “funny” videos very interesting. I create a lot of original content for public consumption, significantly more than many social media users, and if that becomes difficult, then the site suffers more than I do. But it's undeniable that social media, and this social media in specific, is where my people are, and yeah, I like seeing you all every day. It makes it difficult to leave even when Tumblr is the best of a bad set of options.

It seems like a lot of the internet, lately, is the best of a bad set of options.

All that said, Tumblr forced a sudden, unwanted, and unchangeable reskin on me a day after I listened to a two-hour podcast about addiction while working on building a newsletter system for my author site. I spent the evening before this happened in contemplation of my relationship to social media and to my readership and how I might alter it to my benefit regardless of whether that's also to Tumblr's detriment. Their poor timing, I suppose. A lot of the theories advanced on the podcast were, to put it kindly, bunk, but one of the suggestions for people questioning their relationship to an activity was a dopamine fast -- removing something in your life that gives you quick but unsustained dopamine hits, so that you can take some time to level out and examine your behaviors. On the one hand, that's not at all how dopamine works; from the jump it's a bad theory. But on the other, pulling back from something you think may be causing you difficulty is generally speaking a good tactic.

Removing myself from Tumblr yesterday was an active process: because I have ADHD and often will forget something exists if I don't systematize my engagement with it, Tumblr is normally pinned to my browser, with the app on my phone's top screen. Removing the app and closing the window meant that while I occasionally reached for Tumblr, it was less frequently than I expected, and the lack of access reminded me why I wasn't there. I missed you guys, but I didn't miss getting distracted from work by my dash, or the pressure to respond to the volume of communication I receive through the site daily. I don't think my use of tumblr as my sole social media has been unhealthy, per se, but certainly yesterday felt both quieter and calmer after I walked away.

But that's a temporary relief, because you are my community, and not only do I not want to leave my community, it's a resource for me. One of the reasons I do things like Radio Free Monday and the weekly Hug on Saturdays is that I try to make sure that resource is reciprocal. Leadership involves service. Leaving would be easy in the short term, but in the long term, leaving my community without having another place to meet it, or another community to go to, would be harmful to both of us. I'm already someone who isolates, and while I have a strong brickspace circle of friends, they fulfill sometimes different needs.

Though I do appreciate the wild vote of confidence from the comments to my last post telling me people would come with me where I went. That means a lot to me. I will attempt to make it either unnecessary or as painless as possible. Just know, I see your faith and friendship and I appreciate it.

Sometimes at my old job I'd be in very tumultuous meetings where a lot was discussed and not much agreed on, and the most useful thing to me was always to say, "What are our next steps? What would you like me to do because of this meeting?" So what are next steps, all this being the case?

First, I'm going to be off Tumblr, mostly, for another couple of days, because clearly I need the break and a few days won't matter too much. Again, I will be back either to continue on the site or to let you guys know, at length and volume, where I'm headed. The former is much more likely.

Second, I'm going to be actively looking for both a widget I can install to reset the dash (recommendations welcome, I currently don't even use xkit) and a wholly new platform that's a realistically viable alternative. Even if the dash gets reset, the shitty post editor is here for good. Attempts to source alternative platforms in the past have taught me that it needs to have a mobile-friendly site or an app, a similar structure to tumblr, and a reasonable chance of actually attracting users. That's a heavy venn diagram unlikely to be fulfilled anytime soon, but I'm now invested in finding it, instead of just passively waiting for it to happen to me (as Tumblr did when it pulled me off LJ).

Third, I do have an email newsletter in the works! I'm just wrestling currently with setting up how people sign up for it. This wasn't meant to be "my main broadcast platform"; it's meant to be a once-monthly email to share book news, targeted at people who aren't on socials or who just really love content from me, I guess. :D The plan was for me to assure Tumblr users that it was not extra content, just select content repackaged into a digest. But it will be one way to ensure that if I'm moving around outside of Tumblr, you'll know about it. I hope to have a link to a signup page soon. (I'm....dealing with some code issues.)

Fourth, I'm going to be combing through the last ten years I've spent here and pulling anything I think is of value into an archive. For now everything will remain here as well, and I'll let you guys know if I think that's going to change, but it's clear that this space is moving only one direction, towards a place I can't exist, and when/if it crumbles I want to have already evacuated what's important.

So there you go. I'll possibly be posting sporadically (the Saturday Hugs are queued six months in advance so that'll happen) but if nothing else and if not sooner, I'll be back full-time next week starting with Radio Free Monday. I appreciate your patience and your kindness in the meantime!

#tumblr #social media

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whoisthispersonwow · 14 days

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Hello people of tumblr! :)

I am not used to using this app but I thought i would give it a shot as the fandom works featured here are straight up the best things i've found on the internet, and the community seems just AMAZING on all regards!!! So I thought, yk, that I would share my ideas for this AU fic that perhaps maybe I would write sometimes...... idk....

Actor Bucky x Model Buck

Set in the 90s, this AU follows this rough outline : despite the 90s being a time of counterculture for the youth, (grunge, alternative movies being pushed forward and towards larger audiences) and being out of the 80s and all it entails (glam rock and so on) there was this paradoxally reinforced idea of masculinity (leather jackets, men having to be "strong", etc.) and lattent ideas of homosexuality being a "bad, filthy thing" in some places, interlinked with the misinformations concerning the HIV epidemic (if you're gay, you'll get AIDS, you'll die in a few months, all this stuff), which causes the Bucks have to hide their relationship from the public in fear of retaliation and backlash.

Buck is a male model, in a decade in which supermodels are emerging, and put on a pedestal : it's a decent job for him, despite not being a Claudia Schiffer or a Kate Moss (as female models, especially in that decade, were getting paid way more than male models, and overall just represented couture houses more than men did.). People know his face, he's had a few campaigns, but it's not enough to make him one of the A-list celebrities, not that he minds. He's slimmer than what is the norm for male models, but compensates it with his face : it is his strength as much as his weakness concerning bookings. He is known by his peers as this wise and generally kind man, not overly flairy as people can sometimes be in their industry, and overall very discreet about his personal life. He is extremely professional, a master of his craft that knows exactly what is expected of him at any time.

Bucky, on the other hand, is an actor. Freshly discovered among the rest of a new generation of actors, he climbs steadily and surely his way to the top, and has people from all over the USA watching his career with interest. He acts in movies which in our timeline would feel like "The Matrix" ; "Trainspotting" ; "Fight Club", and all of those sorts of very "mainstream yet still posessing their bit a flair" movies. He's extending his choices and taking more risks, ones that could perhaps lead him to great rewards (not that he is especially looking for it : Bucky would be content to act in a short movie by a middle schooler if it was done with love and passion.) Charming, bubbly, he is loved by many of teenage girls (and others, ofc :p). Everyone has a story about Bucky, be it good or bad. "Oh yeah, he bought me a car when mine broke down" says a make-up artist on a set. "He got so drunk he forgot I was here and punched me square in the face when i got up to pee" says his friend Curt Biddick.

(i made an ugly ass moodboard for the vibes)

-> now i'm gonna dump random infos for no particular reasons

TW : mentions of drugs, alcohol, homophobic cliches.

-They met at a party/gala of some sort for a brand, for which Buck modeled and Bucky was ambassador : it didn't click right away, but closely enough for it to feel like fate played a part in it.

-Buck is kind of excluded during parties as he's fully sober, whether it's from drugs or alcohol : a rarity, in the modeling world, and often not a welcome one.

-Bucky on the other hand, is a bit too much of a party monster : he drinks a lot, perhaps snorts a little cocaine in the bathroom, takes a little speed... Which GREATLY concerns Buck.

-Bucky is as cocky in his confidence and his career as he fears (and represses A LOT) the possibility of everything tumbling down and just going back to being nobody (THIS MAN NEEDS TO BE LOVED BY EVERYONE)

-He's terrified that fame will change him, that he will become a parody version of himself, that people will only know and like the version of himself he presents them and nothing else, not seeing his worth as a person, as an individual of flesh and feelings.

-Between the two of them, he's the one who desperately wants to tell the general audience about their relationship, not caring about the consequences, because in his eyes, love is love, and there sure as hell ain't nothing wrong with loving Gale Cleven, and people should know that he loves him, that they love each other, that they're a pair, that life only ever feels complete when they stand side by side, hanging in each other's orbits. They sometimes argue over this.

-Buck, on the other hand, wishes for their relationship to stay a secret, as he fears if it was to be known, it would taint Bucky's image, this very manly, confident and suave man, mingle it with dumb cliches (in a gay couple one is a "Folle" and the other has to be effeminate, because they're like GIRLS yk) and that it would basically ruin his career, tarnish his talent and hard work, get him blacklisted from most studios/directors and only perhaps offered type-casted roles in homophobic movies written by straight men. Buck could not stand seeing the love of his life being disgraced in the public's eyes, just because of some dumbass cliches, because of his love for him.

-Marjorie (Marge) covers for Buck. She's his front : They are seen dining together and huddling on benches by paparazzis, giggling and talking as they walk in the street, and that's enough. Their story makes people dream, these two young people who grew up together and fell in love, still a couple until this day, still loving each other as much as they did on the first day... They are a lavender couple (when both member of a relationship are queer, and use their couple to cover any suspicions) which helps making Buck and Bucky seem like just buddies. Marjorie is most likely not famous, or if so, she'd be more of a writer than anything else.

-Bucky is EXTREMELY jealous and FUMES whenever he cannot kiss Buck in public, touch him, do his little Bucky things, make Buck feel his. Despite that, he's sort of reckless and allows himself gestures that would not fly were the two men not viewed as pinacle of masculinity and a great example of brotherly love. Buck can't even bring himself to ressent him for it, and does not hold it against him : he too wishes they could hold hands on red carpets.

-Bucky is basically a disaster waiting to happen at some point, a pressure cooker dangerously whistling : he bottles everything he feels, just grits his teeth and says he's fine when dark times arise, drowns himself in alcohol and wishes to forget about his worries, thinks about simpler times when he had none at all. Gale stays by his side, no matter what, no matter his terrifying relationship with alcohol and the memories of his father.

-They live together, despite the risks : Buck couldn't bear having to say no to Bucky when he bought their appartment with a huge check from the royalties he earned over his first blockbuster. It is approprietly cozy : most of the decorum is Buck's doing, but Bucky's things still find their ways in there ; baseball posters, pictures, awards and silly little drawings on stick-it notes... It feels like home, to both of them.

-They probably have bought some sort of ranch or farm, somewhere, to run away from the city when things get crazy : they bask reverently in the fact that there, nothing they do or say matters, watching the sunsets on their patios, enjoying the melody of nature without any civilization.

That's pretty much it for now, I'll most likely add things later! :D I'm begging you to excuse any mistake I made, i'm just a poor French person trying her best. Don't hesitate to tell me how you feel and stuff, I am so nervous to make this post you can't imagine lmaoo

To end things, I guess I'll just post an extract of a wip, a written transcription of a fake interview Bucky probably had on some talk show!!! :]

#clegan #buck x bucky #bucky x buck #gale cleven #john bucky egan #alternate universe #idk how to tag sorry #mota

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gogolatte · 3 months

Note

Ok I need you to hear me out! What about dazai, Fyodor and or Nikolai with a s/o that is the psychologist/therapist for their respective organisation! Is reader aware that they are way beyond redemption? Yes, does reader know that they can't fix them? Also yes, but as their s/o they try their best to save the little sanity they have left by reminding them to take their pills/vitamins, having casual therapy sessions with them and comforting them after (btw I don't think any of them would go to therapy on their own so reader being the therapist of the organisation they are in would make more sense for them to communicate and eventually form a relationship, plus I think a emotionally intelligent reader would really balance them out)

Have a wonderful day or night and don't forget to hydrate!!!!

omg nonnie, this is very interesting! I tried my best to imagine these three going to therapy… sort of.

please remember to hydrate yourself too<33

Therapist s/o!

✧ contents. sfw!!

I'm kind of sure that a psychologist (and I think a therapist too) is not allowed to have a personal relationship with their patient, so I'd like to think that their relationship with their s/o is a secret, at least inside the organization.

Dazai will come to visit you every day even if it's not necessarily for a therapy session.

He only goes to the Agency to see you— I imagine you have a small office inside the building of the Agency, so whenever Dazai is bored, he leaves the Agency's office and goes downstairs to visit you!

For him, it's a good thing that his s/o is also his therapist because he won't open up with anyone else but you. He would ask for you to run your fingers through his fluffy hair as he tells you how his past memories are still tormenting him sometimes.

Since you're a professional and know so much about people's minds, your conversations are always very deep which he's thankful for; knowing that someone understands him and gives him the comfort that he needs badly.

Dazai doesn't need any type of medication I think. Maybe he'll need to sleep better and eat properly but as long as you sleep with him and remind him to take his meals, he'll do as you said<3

I believe Fyodor doesn't want therapy, or pills, even if he needs them.

You know his physical and mental health are not the best, and he knows it too, but he doesn't care about it that much.

Maybe the roles would turn upside down? He would ask why you have such opinions and would discuss a lot of philosophical stuff about human beings and their lives and the way they socialize with other humans.

Fyodor would be the stubborn type; like, you would tell him to go out for a walk and get some fresh air because he's lacking vitamin D but he only chuckles and says that he doesn't need to, that he's perfectly fine.

A few hours later he would go out for a walk as you said and left a small bouquet of flowers he collected himself on your desk.

Also, he comes to ask for your opinion on important things before doing them!

Nikolai wouldn't take things seriously most of the time. He needs to make silly jokes and tease you as you try to advise him for his own good.

He would gladly take any pills you give him but you need to sit on his lap and give him the pill yourself, then kiss his forehead and call him a good boy. If not, he would refuse the medication.

Sometimes he feels very very down, like; he enters your office with a somber expression and needs to be cuddled as you try to help him solve his problem.

You make him feel happy even if it's just with a kiss on the cheek or words of affirmation<3

Definitely surprises you and teleports behind you as you're doing paperwork.

About his “freedom” thing… As much as you'd like to tell him that it's (almost) impossible, he won't stop trying to reach his goal and will keep on telling you with a big smile how he plans to achieve it. Well… At least he's still your Nikolai for now.

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whywoulditho · 2 months

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"the fandom ruined mha" is one of those vastly popular opinions that i've never quite understood. because they honestly...weren't as bad as people made it seem??? i swear people with zero fandom experience will see a thirteen year old in cheap cosplay having fun and say shit like "ew i hate this fandom you're ruining it" like maybe leave the goddamn kid alone??

mha has a very large fan community, and what makes it a little different than most other anime fandoms is that mha was specifically targeted for a global audience. they did their best to avoid any quirks and cliche tropes of anime that would go over non-japanese' heads. the art style is pretty cartoonish and it's got lots of references to western comics. there's a whole ass movie set in the US. what i'm trying to say is that a large, international fandom was always what they were going for, and it was well received. it was one of those shows that you'd kind of had to watch if you wanted to be in anime spaces back in like 2016-2018. mind you this is when even aot wasn't that popular. and when something is so popular, there's gonna be lot of weird people in the fandom. BECAUSE most of them will be people who have never been in fandom spaces before. the "cringy mha fans" that were the butt of every joke in anime discord were more of than not minors having just been introduced to anime or fandom culture as a whole. there were lots of weird stuff, i admit. but was it ever really that serious? like why couldn't yall just leave those people alone??

another thing people just couldn't stop talking about was how there were way too many ships in the fandom but 1) why is that a bad thing? and 2) of course there were gonna be a lot of ships in a show that introduced TWO WHOLE CLASSROOMS OF TEENAGERS AS THE MAIN CAST who interacted all the time. not to mention all the students from other hero schools, upperclassmen, pro heroes & teachers. there are like a million characters in this show and the more characters the more potential ships -it's fucking common sense. i think what really happened there was that people outside of the fandom looked at the fanmade content and thought the fandom must have been obsessed with ships. when in reality i think the fans were really chill about it. most of them were multishippers, they didn’t mind the other pairings. i understand that for an outsider's eye all the ships and disclose must've looked chaotic but in fandom spaces people know how to filter the content they engage with so there really arent any serious "ship wars" going on anywhere except for maybe instagram comments.

i am not saying all the ships were unproblematic, there were some pretty weird ships going on too, but honestly i thought half of them were jokes? or at least crackships? and if you compared the number of fics those kind of pairings have on ao3 to the more family friendly ones you'd see that there really weren't an actual fanbase for any of those weird ass pairings.

i think the core of mha fandom has never been as chaotic as others thought it was. mha fans were interested in the story, the fights & the character development while casually enjoying ships as well. it wasn't that serious until yall started bullying a bunch of kids online. with the rise of tiktok and the boredom the pandemic caused there were a huge amount of amateur content. i'm not saying i've never seen a mha fan being genuinely cringe. i just think the mature response to those posts would have been leaving the poor kids alone.

yesterday i've seen a youtube video about how awful mha fans are and this guy just showed a clip of a bunch of cosplayers outside of what was probably an anime convention dancing to gangnam style and he was going on and on about how annoying they are. and it made me so angry because where the fuck did these anime fan bourgeoisie snobs come from telling people they can't have fun at FUCKING ANIME CONVENTIONS??? i dont know if you've ever been to one but an anime con is basically the only place that's supposed to be safe to do cringe shit like that. everyone goes to those things in cosplay, some better than others. but last i checked everyone was pretty nice to each other, complimenting each other's costumes, asking to take photos. the cosplays don't have to be good, they don't even have to be complete. a convention is the one place you can show up in a wig you bought off ebay and a costume you finished making the night before. i dont know what yall are on but people go to those events to have fun. not to be filmed and made fun of. and from my personal experience having been in fandom spaces since middle school, someone who dances to gangnam style in a cheap todoroki cosplay is an infinitely nicer person than the stuck-up loser who makes a video complaining about it

#long post #fandom #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #ships #cosplay #i talk

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novaawayne · 1 year

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Interview || Izuku Midoriya

pairing: izuku Midoriya x female!reader

summary: You are a famous YouTuber who is dedicated to talking about heroes. One day you accidentally do an interview with the number one hero, Deku, without really knowing who he was. Give the almost heard that both are fans of the other.

warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff. i really love this little piece of sunshine.

wc: +2.8k

a/n. English is not my first lenguage. please send some request for izuku

masterlist

Since you were six years old, you had been very interested in the world of social networks. You liked the way people brought up various topics through the camera. From cooking recipes, to a video blog of daily life, to crafts, and even tutorials.

That's how, at the age of eleven, you asked your parents to help you open your own YouTube channel. You wanted people to know and listen to you, but not only that, you wanted to talk to them about your favorite topic: superheroes.

You were never really interested in becoming one since it seemed very dangerous but that didn't take away the great admiration you had for all of them.

At first your parents didn't agree with this, the internet was a dangerous place, especially for a little eleven year old girl. But seeing your great insistence and that it was something you really wanted, they agreed to help you as long as they supervised you. You really couldn't be happier.

In your first few videos, you showed off your favorite hero merch collections and talked about how much you admired them. They were actually terrible videos. You spoke very fast or had very long silences and because you didn't know how to edit, the videos remained as they had been recorded.

But over time you got better. By the time you turned sixteen, you already had a little more than ten million followers as you had worked hard to cover everything related to the heroes of the moment. You had gotten exclusive interviews with heroes like Best Jeanist, Edgeshot, Present Mic, and one with All Might.

That last one was what took you straight to the top. It had not been easy to get that interview but the man had been very kind answering the questions of a girl with big bright eyes.

That's how your parents gave you a professional camera along with audio equipment. They never really imagined you would go this far but they couldn't be more proud of you.

Later you managed to attend the AU sports tournament, where you interviewed some of the future heroes and took videos of the various games. Your audience loved the way you recounted the events and how you carried on so naturally.

May was the same place where you met the cutest guy in the whole wide world. Izuku Midoriya. Just seeing it was like having directly seen the beauty of the starry sky. It was the moment you decided that you would be his number one fan.

However, the years began to pass. You attended university to study communication and various companies sought you out because you already had more than 100 million subscribers on YouTube, more than 120 million on Instagram and around 65 million on tiktok.

It was rare that someone didn't know you when you went out on the street and it was even the same hero managers who looked for you to ask you to do an interview because of your great reach.

On the other hand, although you didn't know it, Izuku knew you. Since before the UA tournament, since he was a big fan of heroes, he was amazed with your content from when you still had only 5 subscribers, he was one of those 5, in addition to your parents, your aunt and your older cousin . And he never missed a single one of your videos.

He recognized you immediately when you attended the UA tournament and wanted to ask you for a photo but he was more shy and didn't dare to talk to you. You were so pretty and he had serious trouble talking to girls.

However, he never stopped following you and admiring your work. He thought it was really incredible everything you had achieved from such a young age and on your own.

Izuku's only regret was that his paths hadn't crossed again. He was now number one and he really wanted to meet you in person but he hadn't found the right opportunity.

Izuku even knew that you were a big fan of him since a lot of your videos talk about him and he didn't miss the way you got excited when you made a video exclusively for him.

However, their paths were about to cross forever.

That day you were going to do a live walk through the streets hoping to meet a hero. Those were some of your most popular videos right now, because although you were looking for heroes, you would also sometimes interview passersby to give them an opinion on their favorite hero. You even went out into the streets to play some games, asking questions about the heroes and giving some gifts to whoever answered correctly.

The fun thing was that it was all live, so you could answer a few questions while you were walking around and talk to your followers.

You were in an uncrowded park and you were getting ready to start recording.

All your team was ready, standing behind the camera.

Yoru, your cameraman gave you the signal that everything was ready and that's how he counted down before starting. You started with your typical greeting and at one point you already had two million views.

You started talking a bit about what you were doing today and how excited you were. You sent a couple of greetings and finally stopped looking at the chat on your cell phone when you saw a couple sitting on a bench.

"Hi!" you greeted them with great encouragement but they seemed confused by your sudden appearance.

“Oh, aren't you y/n? The one from that channel that talks about heroes” the girl asked you with a lot of emotion.

"I am the same. Would you like to play a game to win a surprise prize?”

The girl looked at her boyfriend with emotion.

"Of course we want"

The boy seemed nervous about the sudden appearance of a camera but seeing his girlfriend so happy about him cheered him up a bit.

"OK. Then I'll ask you ten questions about some heroes and if you answer all of them right, I'll give you something."

They both stood up and listened carefully to your questions.

On the other hand, Izuku was leaving his agency after a grueling mission. They had sent him to rest because his last mission had lasted three days and he had hardly slept a little. It was so that the number one hero put on a cap, sunglasses and a sweatshirt to go out without being recognized. He wanted to walk for a while to get some fresh air and go for something to eat.

He had barely gone a couple of blocks when his phone rang. He quickly took it to see what it was and smiled to see that it was a notification that you were live.

He hurried to put on his headphones and open the video. There you were, as radiant and happy as ever. However, something caught his attention. The place where you were seemed very familiar to him.

He looked around him trying to remember.

“I'm very sorry, you have failed four questions but don't worry. I'll give you these Dynamight commemorative cups.” Izuku heard your voice and looked at the screen again. Someone had handed you a pair of glasses with Bakugo's face printed on them and you handed them over to the couple.

After a short farewell, you continued on your way.

“There aren't many people in this place but while we wait to find someone who wants to play, let me tell you that I recently bought Deku's hoodie. The one that is limited edition. It took me a long time to get it but I did and you can't imagine how happy I am"

Izuku let out a chuckle as he looked at you. But then you turned around and he perfectly recognized that building. It was his agency, you were in the back park. It was true that it was not a very busy place. It was so that he hastened his pace to find you.

It didn't take more than five minutes and from afar he saw you and your entire team. He didn't know that so many people were helping you with these videos but he found it fascinating.

He put away his phone along with his earphones and began to walk casually to make it look like some kind of chance encounter.

And just as he planned, you came running up to him.

"Hello!" You greeted him with great encouragement “my name is y/n. Would you like to play a game with me?”

Izuku was silent for a moment. Luckily you hadn't recognized him yet but he couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful you were in person. The camera didn't do you any justice.

"Sure," he said after a moment, "what kind of game is it?"

You laughed a little.

"I will ask you ten questions about some heroes, if you answer all of them correctly I will give you a great gift"

He shrugged. He knew everything about most of the heroes, his whole life was dedicated to studying them and thanks to you he got much more information.

"Okay," he said.

That's how you started with the questions and you were surprised at how well he was answering them. You decided to save a really difficult one for last but he answered it without the biggest problem.

"Wow, you really know a lot about the heroes" you congratulated him "as a prize I'll give you a choice between three things. The first is a collectible figure of Deku, the number one hero. There are only six pieces of this figure. You can also choose double tickets to the superhero theme park. Or lastly, you can choose a jack-in-the-box that contains different merchandise from various heroes” you gave him a big smile.

Izuku couldn't be more captivated.

"Actually I'd like something else," he muttered nervously, scratching his forehead with a finger.

You looked at him curiously.

"What thing?"

“Maybe a photo? I'm actually a big fan of yours since I was a kid."

You blushed at his words but immediately began to laugh.

“Of course we can take a photo, come here. Give Yumi your cell phone and she can take some pictures of us” you told him.

The man took the cell phone from him and handed it to what he claims to be your assistant. However, he also took off his cap and glasses but at that moment you weren't looking at him because you started to send some greetings.

"I'm ready" Izuku said and that's when you looked at him. You almost fainted at that moment when you saw who it was.

It took you a full minute to react but even so you started babbling.

"Hero Deku" you muttered after a moment.

He let out an embarrassed laugh.

"Hello"

You took a deep breath and stood next to him so your assistant, who had a huge smile from ear to ear, could take some photos. You quickly realized that Izuku didn't touch you in any way. His arms remained away from your body at all times. At present there were no longer men as chivalrous as him. If you already loved him before, now you loved him even more.

When the go-gos finished, it was your turn to feel embarrassed.

"Hmmm... Hero Deku, would you allow me an interview?"

"Of course!"

You quickly looked for the notes application on your phone because you had a list of all the questions you wanted to ask Deku if you ever had him in front of you.

It was actually a very long interview and your views increased more and more. You realized how easy it was to talk to Deku and the man had so many things to say that you didn't realize two hours passed. It wasn't until the end of the interview that you realized they had broken a viewing record.

"Thank you very much to everyone who is watching us right now" you said excitedly and Izuku next to you "and many thanks to the hero Deku for giving us this interview. It was magnificent. Hero Deku, would you like to say something to the public? We have broken a record and right now more than fifty million people are watching us live”

Izuku looked surprised but the camera focused on him and you held out your microphone.

"Well, I'm not quite sure. Cameras always make me nervous. However, I want to thank you all for the support you have given me throughout my career. I promise to always protect you."

You smiled excitedly.

“Would you like to say goodbye with me?” You asked him. Your cheeks had started to ache from the big smile that hadn't gone away.

"I would love that"

They both looked at the camera with a serious face and pointed their index finger.

"See you next time" they spoke at the same time and made a movement as if their hand was a gun.

The live ended, your team of five started clapping, and finally approached Izuku for a photo or autograph. He very gladly agreed but he still wanted to be alone with you for a moment. He wanted to ask for your number or if he felt brave enough a date.

"I'll go put all this in the van" Yoru said, carrying a couple of suitcases in each hand.

“Thank you all very much for your work today” you spoke out loud and little by little your team withdrew.

"We'll wait for you in the van" Yumi asked you this time.

You looked at Deku and then at your assistant. You immediately denied.

"No, I think I prefer to walk"

The woman let out a big smile as she raised and lowered her eyebrows. But she just gave you your bag and left with the others.

The sky was already dark, you had started recording quite late so it was normal for it to be like this. The little boy's lights came on and you looked at Deku.

"Thank you very much for the interview. I'm really a big fan of yours and it's an honor to have met you."

Izuku blushed.

"It's no big deal. Also, I'm also a big fan of yours. I've watched all your videos since you started at eleven and even though you deleted many of those videos, I still remember them."

It was your turn to feel like your face was burning.

"Well, then... I think I'd better go."

"Is it alright if I accompany you?"

You looked at him with big bright eyes.

"It’s okay, thank you"

-•

It was a year later. You were in your studio doing a live Q&A. You wanted a quiet live so you chose to record in the morning when there were a little less people.

However, the chat filled up immediately.

“Today we will read some questions from Instagram. Many want to know how my collection has grown, so I will show you some things, also last night I received a big box with new merchandise that I ordered a month ago”

Your background had completely changed, they were no longer those stuffed animals and dolls from when you started, now there were several glass cabinets full of figures and merchandise of various heroes. In addition, there were some neon lights that adorned each side of the room. That morning they were pink.

You started answering some questions and stood up when asked about the new Shoto figure you had mentioned in your Instagram stories. Also about the Red Riot cap and Headphone Jack headphones.

"Honey, can you bring the box that arrived last night?" You yelled as you put the giant Lemillion figure back on.

‘When will you show us your boyfriend?’

'I have a suspicion that his boyfriend is someone very important and that's why she doesn't want to show it'

'We all want to meet the person who stole the hearts of our y/n'

You read the chat with a smile.

“I'm sorry, but you know I'd rather keep my personal life out of this. But I promise if that guy proposes to me, I'll show him when we get married” you started laughing.

Someone knocked softly on the door and you stood up to open it. Izuku appeared with a big smile and a huge box in his arms. You stood on your toes to give him a quick kiss and the man set the box on the floor.

"Thank you, Izu" you murmured, giving him another kiss on the lips.

"No problem honey"

Izuku went straight to his shared room and continued watching your video. He really was in love with you and was already planning how to ask you to marry him.

↬ written by Novaawayne

#izuku midoriya #bnha deku #bnha midoriya #izuku x y/n #my hero academia #izuku midoria x reader #mha deku #deku x reader #Deku x you #izuku x you #bnha fanfiction #fanfic #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku #midoriya x you #midoriya fluff #izuku fluff #deku fluff

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