#but this was literally just like. porn. there's no other way to describe it

[paperlunamoth]

Just watched a youtube video where a bubbly young woman discussed an indescribably fucked up hentai manga about a teenage girl getting forced into prostitution and raped by her father, and otherwise tortured and violated in ways I will not describe here, as though it was just some run of the mill piece of media, and treated it like it had some kind of profound literary value because sometimes real girls go through those kinds of experiences, while completely ignoring the fact that it was hentai created specifically for sick men to jerk off to and written by one such sick man. And most of the comments also failed to acknowledge the nature of this work, and were just things along the lines of, "yep, life sure can be unfortunate for some people that is true." I just. What is happening to these girls? Like I truly don't understand how you can get to a place mentally where all you have to say about something like this is that it's "dark" and the characters are "bad people" like girl what you read should be illegal it is literally underage torture porn with a plot that serves the sole function of providing context that makes the porn parts as depraved as possible, and you think it was an enjoyable read that had important things to say about the female experience?? The author was not trying to earnestly depict the horrors of girlhood in order to get people to contemplate the significance of such atrocities and compel them to do something to help prevent them, he was trying to get himself and men like him off to the rape and misery of a teenager! This is a level of pornbrained internalized misogyny combined with poor media literacy that I previously did not think possible. My heart weeps for this girl and for other young women like her who are so numb to this kind of visceral depravity that they don't even register it as anything other than a sad story.

#rant #vent #feminism #radical feminism #radblr #random thoughts #luna's

[octanesprohoetype]

no strings attached – genji shimada

NSFW!!! MINORS DNI!!!!

a/n: hello, first post on my new blog >:3 this note is gonna be long and ramble-y so feel free to skip it. to begin with, everything about this fic was unplanned. i never planned on my first post here being overwatch related, nor did i plan on it being porn, but here we are with overwatch porn. and then, i was only trying to write a short 1-2k word valentine's day smut, but it is 2 days after valentine's and this fic is 5.5k words long with layers like a cake. this is the first thing i've written for overwatch, and also the first smut i've written in 2 years, so i may be rusty. i hope you enjoy it anyway.

word count: 5.5k

tags/summary: porn with plot (kind of), mild angst?, idiots in love. you invite genji over, hoping that having sex with him would help you get over the annoying feelings you have for him. that doesn't happen for you.

warnings: no pronouns used for reader, female genitalia is vaguely described tho, unprotected sex

edited to add: this fic is now on my ao3 as well! thanks to @smol-dragon for reminding me :3

"damn it. fuck."

you lock your phone and squeeze your eyelids shut, forcing the screen out of your vision, and throw your head back against the pillow in frustration. this is so, so stupid, you tell yourself, and it is stupid, yet you can't let it go.

you were an adult– you shouldn't be having inner turmoil about how you wanted to have sex with someone. it wasn't anything you hadn't done before, but for some reason, it was suddenly impossible to navigate.

"damn you, genji," you mutter, slapping one of your hands against your forehead.

this was all his fault. you'd never felt the urge to have sex with a coworker, honestly, the thought had never even crossed your mind... or at least, that was true until you met genji. you ignored your attraction to the cyborg at first– sure, he was nice to look at and had an alluring air of danger about him, but he was no different from cassidy in that regard. you figured whatever attraction you had to him would quickly dissipate into nothing, as it did with the cowboy, but to your dismay, it only grew stronger.

at first, you found yourself admiring the intricacy of his cybernetic body parts, and then his combat style. then, you found yourself staring at him for much longer, entranced by his form and the way he spoke.

genji himself did absolutely nothing to alleviate you of your newly-contracted disease. in fact, it almost seemed that he intentionally made it worse. he'd jump to your aid in combat, ghost his fingers across you in passing, and you caught him casting you lingering glances, though you could never tell what thoughts were going on behind his actions.

you told yourself it was probably nothing, that you were being delusional and trying to convince yourself that your crush (if you could call it that) was reciprocated. you were almost successful in convincing yourself to let it go, but the interaction between the two of you today not only reignited your thoughts of him, but intensified them.

genji had been in one of the sparring ranges at headquarters, dutifully practicing his aim, though you didn't really think it was necessary. you were observing, over-exaggerating your interest in his technique as an excuse to be around him, and offhandedly made a comment about wishing you could use a sword.

"i'd be happy to teach you," genji had replied.

you jumped at the offer, but severely overestimated yourself in terms of your sword-wielding capabilities. it looked easy, but maybe that was just because you'd only ever seen genji do it, and he made it seem effortless. after failing miserably, you were ready to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment, but genji seemed determined to teach you.

he'd walked up behind you, using one hand to correct your posture, and the other to guide your hands into the correct position along the sword's hilt. you were almost literally on fire underneath his touch, and it was suddenly very difficult to focus on what you were doing.

"i think this might be a waste of time," you'd commented, staring down intently at the sword in your hands so genji couldn't see how red your face was. "i'm afraid i may be a difficult person to teach."

"i'll gladly teach you about anything you want to learn," genji said, standing entirely too close to you with his hands on your shoulder and wrist. "no matter how difficult you may be."

(y/n.exe has stopped working.)

you stared back at him, wide-eyed, with every functional part of your brain failing you. fortunately for you, your phone rang, interrupting the uncomfortable sexual tension that had suddenly filled the room. mercy was calling, requesting your help with something 'important'. after pretending you were really sorry for leaving so abruptly, you practically ran out of the room, silently thanking the doctor for calling you at the best possible time and giving you a get-out-of-jail free card.

you sat through the tactical meeting with mercy and tracer, though you had absolutely no helpful feedback to offer. your mind was fixed on genji the entire time, and your skin still felt hot from where his hands had been. i really need to get laid, you thought, this is pathetic.

now, even though it was hours later, you were still in the same predicament. try as you might, your brain absolutely refused to focus on anything or anyone besides genji. your television had long since blurred into background noise, bits and pieces of some stupid rom-com becoming the soundtrack to your turmoil.

maybe i should just text him... you think, for the millionth time. it was easy, or at least, it should have been easy. finding someone to screw wasn't usually this difficult for you, and you usually didn't care one way or another, but the thought of genji rejecting you was terrifying. even worse was the thought of having to see him again afterwards.

your mind goes back to the sparring range, and you swallow harshly. 'desperate' was never a word you'd use to describe yourself before, but now... when it came to genji, it was kind of an understatement.

"fuck it," you say aloud, swallowing your pride and unlocking your phone.

- hey. are you busy?

he starts typing immediately. how scary.

- i am not. do you need something?

- kind of. i have... a question.

"i am such a fucking loser," you mutter as you watch genji's text bubble appear on the screen.

- what is it?

suddenly, you didn't want to ask anymore. maybe you could go out for drinks with cassidy instead of doing this. you stare blankly at the screen for a while.

- ???

- actually, nevermind. it's embarrassing.

- surely no worse than your attempt at swordsmanship?

- sorry, that was a joke.

- wow, okay. definitely not asking now :'(

- come on.

- okay. do you wanna...

- have sex? with me?

you watch in horror as he starts typing, then stops, then starts again.

- are you serious?

- that is entirely dependent on your answer.

- why... are you asking me?

- i don't know how to answer that.

- i'm definitely taking that as a no.

- i didn't say that.

- well, you didn't say yes either...

- i'm not sure i understand what you're getting at here

- not sure what you mean by that. i'm just asking to have sex

- for the record, i'm not expecting you to be my boyfriend or anything

- just a one time thing. no strings attached

- no strings attached? lol

- okay

okay? okay? what the hell was 'okay' supposed to mean?

- are you there?

- yes. an answer?

- if you're gonna say no i'd like to go ahead and get it over with so that i can go get drunk enough to forget my shame lmao

- that won't be necessary.

- the answer is yes. obviously

your heart almost stops beating for a second. surely this, too, was a joke.

- seriously? like... actually?

- ...

- yes?

- wow! unexpected.

- are you free? like... tonight, maybe?

- i'll be there. 20 minutes?

twenty minutes? was that enough time to prepare? you immediately scramble out of bed to your dresser, searching for something risqué to wear. you owned an obscene amount of lingerie, but for some reason, none of it seemed good enough for the occasion.

you knew enough about genji's past to know that he'd been with more than his fair share of people, and though you weren't inexperienced by any means, it had been a while– most of your time had been dedicated to overwatch lately. you were sure that the names and faces of genji's old lovers blurred together, and although you specifically said 'no strings attached', you wanted to make the best possible impression. even if you never slept together again, you wanted to be memorable, at the very least.

eventually, you realize you're running short on time and opt to put on your personal favorite set. it had never steered you wrong before. you quickly change into it and throw on an oversized hoodie with some random game logo on it– very basic, you noted, but you didn't want to look like you were trying too hard, although you definitely were.

after checking the time, you wander aimlessly around the house waiting for genji to arrive. you definitely weren't nervously pacing from room to room, overanalyzing every aspect of this situation– no, that is not at all what you were doing. before long, you hear a knock at the door. your anxiety spikes through the roof, but you do your best to get a hold of yourself as you walk to the foyer to let genji in.

when you open the door, you see genji, as expected, and he looks the same as always. there was nothing special about his outfit (because why would there be?) and you're very glad you didn't decide to wear something over-the-top. he's also wearing a mask, as usual, but you can actually see his eyes with this one.

"i like your shirt," he says casually. "good game."

you blink at him, having been completely lost in the crimson pools of his irises.

"oh, yeah, it is," you reply, nodding in affirmation. "um, come inside."

he laughs quietly as he steps through the doorway, and you furrow your brows at him in confusion, but decide to ignore it and move on. you lead genji through the house, mentally grasping for straws as to where to go from here. to be honest, you didn't think you'd get this far, so you're at a complete loss.

"sorry, i feel like this feels really weird. i don't usually... sleep with my coworkers," you explain as you reach the bedroom.

genji's eyes are fixed on you, and despite having a clear view of them, you still can't tell what he's thinking. it proves to be very anxiety-inducing.

"i didn't think you did," he says.

"thanks? i think?" you reply, unsure of how else to react. "i'm going to warn you that this might actually go really, really badly, because i haven't slept with anyone in a while, and you kind of make me really nervous, and i also don't–"

you're cut off by genji moving closer to you and moving his hand towards your face. the action causes your words to vanish and your train of thought to come to a screeching halt. you stare at him with wide eyes as he moves a stray strand of hair from your face and brushes it behind your ear.

"i make you nervous?" he asks, an amused tone to his question. "you? nervous?"

you can feel heat rush to your cheeks, and you're hyper-aware of his hand lingering near your face, but despite this you try your best to sound cool. "yeah, i know, it's pretty hard to believe! but it's true."

genji laughs. "you're funny."

"i am?"

"yeah," he replies. his dark eyes are sparkling a bit, and although you can't see it, you can tell that he's smiling beneath the mask.

you look away from his face, your gaze falling to his hand. it's still in the air, close enough to your cheek that you can feel the warmth, but not quite touching you. he seems... strangely hesitant to touch you, so you decide to take the initiative.

genji's eyes widen a bit as you reach out and cup his face, brushing your thumb across the sleek metal of his mask.

"are you planning to keep this on?" you ask.

genji freezes in place, visibly caught off guard by your question. "i–"

you giggle at his reaction. "hey, no pressure. it doesn't matter to me. i'll still think you're hot either way."

"i fear you'll change your mind about that," he mutters.

you frown, unsure of what to say. "there really isn't anything that could make me change my mind about you, genji. but seriously, do whatever you're comfortable with."

he makes a quiet noise in response, and you can see in his eyes that he's thinking carefully about what to do. after a few seconds of silence, he holds your wrist and moves it away with one hand, then carefully removes his mask with the other. you can't help but stare, not only because you're surprised that he actually chose to remove his mask, but because he's even better looking than you had imagined– scars and all.

he looks at you, eyes filled with uncertainty, and clearly a bit uncomfortable.

"you're staring. sorry to disappoint. i can put it back on, if you'd prefer..." he says quietly, as if he's ashamed. it's sad, enough so to distract you from your mission of keeping things clean and simple.

you shake your head and wrap your arms around his neck, staring up at him with a reassuring smile. "i'd prefer if you didn't, actually. i can't believe you didn't tell me you were so good-looking underneath that mask."

"i... don't think that's a term i'd use. not anymore, at least," he says, not meeting your gaze. "but i'm glad that you think so."

genji hesitantly puts his hands on your hips, his eyes fixed on the logo on your hoodie. he doesn't seem to know how to react to your compliments, but there's a shy smile on his face nonetheless.

"i mean, i thought you were hot enough before. it never occurred to me that you could manage to be even hotter," you tell him with a smirk.

he looks up at you, blushing profusely, and you're filled with a sense of satisfaction. "i, um, didn't realize you felt so strongly about me."

you look away, deciding to ignore that comment, and begin to trail one of your hands from his neck to his collarbone, then down his abdomen, which was unfortunately covered by his clothes.

"well, the mask is off. that's one thing down," you say, toying with the hem of his hoodie. "just a few more to go."

genji doesn't hesitate to reach down and tug off the hoodie, discarding it on the floor. he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath, and he also wasn't wearing his usual metal plating. his right arm and part of his right upper torso are still made of flesh, as well as most of his midsection. the left side of his body is cybernetic, but it ends just above his hips. you find yourself staring at the intricate and seamless fusion of metal and muscle, your attention focusing in on the sharp outline of his hip bones.

a question pops into your head, but you don't have the audacity to say it out loud– is his dick cybernetic? the thought had never occurred to you before, but you also had never seen just how much of him was still made of skin and bone. honestly, it didn't matter to you either way, but it was an interesting thought. guess i'll find out soon, you think.

genji is staring at you with a strange look on his face, and you're suddenly worried you may have said something out loud.

"something wrong?" he asks. "you look... confused."

"i do?" you ask, surprised. "i was just... curious. about the cybernetic stuff. i've never really seen it up close."

"i see."

you walk over to the bed and climb on top of it, beckoning genji over to you. he follows, but stands still beside you.

"come here," you say, reaching for his hand. "i want a closer look."

he smirks and nods, quickly climbing into the bed and positioning himself on his knees between your legs. you trace the outline of his abs, running your fingers along the border of skin and metal, taking in every detail, and then you realize that he's staring at you again.

"what?" you ask.

"you're overdressed," he says. "i want to look at you, too."

"oh," you pause, realizing that you were in fact still (mostly) fully clothed. "you can take the hoodie off."

genji's hands immediately move to pull at your top. you reposition yourself to make it easier, and you watch as he tosses it into the now-growing pile on the floor alongside his own jacket.

you can hear his breathing grow shallow, and you look back up at him nervously. he's staring down at you with wide, dark eyes, with his hands clenched into fists atop his thighs.

"damn," he breathes. "you're... really the most attractive person i've met."

it's not as though you had notably low self-esteem or anything, but genji's reaction was far more than you expected, and the attention makes you feel embarrassed.

"that definitely feels like flattery, but i'll let it slide," you reply. you're mostly teasing him, but you're also kind of serious– 'most attractive person i've met' is an extremely bold statement to make, especially coming from someone with a track record like genji's.

"flattery? you really think so?" genji asks, seeming to be genuinely taken aback by the accusation.

"mm, it doesn't really matter," you reply, desperate to cut this conversation off before it derails. come on, y/n do not get your feelings involved in this, damn it.

genji leans over you, propping himself up with one arm and lifting your chin with the other. he stares at you with an intimidating intensity, but you can't bring yourself look away from him.

"i'm not that kind of man anymore," he says, his tone serious. you look down at his lips, and before you can form a response, he kisses you.

the kiss is just as intense as the stare he'd been giving you, and it takes a moment for you to register that it's even happening. once you kiss him back, it grows into something more needy. his tongue finds its way into your mouth, and you try your hardest to suppress a whine. you reach to tangle your fingers in his hair and subtly pull his body closer to yours, while genji cups your face with his free hand, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your cheeks.

the kiss seems to go on forever, progressively becoming more sensual. you're so lost in the moment that you temporarily forget that you need to breathe. eventually, both of you pull away for air, lips slightly puffed, and eyes half-open, filled with desire.

you press one of your hands against genji's chest, the other still toying with his hair. he's slumped against you, now leaning against his elbow instead of his hand. your body is flush against his, and you can feel his hard-on pressing against you. you softly grind your hips against him, creating just enough friction to cause you both to inhale sharply.

genji looks down at you, his eyes slowly grazing over your body. he sits up, leaning back on his haunches, looking as though he was deep in thought.

"genji?"

your voice doesn't draw his attention back to your face, but he responds, brows still furrowed. "yeah?"

"touch me," you tell him, almost begging. "please."

he smirks. "sure."

he leans back over you, his face so close to yours that you can see every detail of the scars that paint his skin. the two of you stare into each others eyes, and he pushes your underwear aside without even glancing down. his human hand cups your face, and the metal one assumes its position between your legs.

the sensation of cool, smooth metal against your clit elicits a gasp from you, and genji seems hesitant. he draws his hand back, staring down at it with a forlorn expression.

"sorry," he says. "i... kind of forgot."

you reach for his wrist and pull his hand back to where it had been, shaking your head.

"no, it's fine. you don't need to apologize," you tell him. he still looks unsure, but he doesn't argue.

genji toys with your clit with expert precision, and as much as you enjoy it, your patience starts to wane. as if he can tell, he directs his attention elsewhere, carefully and almost hesitantly inserting two of his fingers into you. you whimper at the feeling, clenching around the unfamiliar texture. it's an entirely new feeling– putting metal there was never something you thought to do, nor did you ever really imagine what it would feel like– but it's good. it's obvious that genji is worried he'll hurt you, or that you won't like it, and you have what you hope will be an easy solution to his concerns.

you bite your lip, looking up at him with your best 'fuck me' eyes, and let go of the restraint you were trying to show. you didn't want to look desperate, but clearly he needed more reassurance that you wanted this– that you wanted him. a string of swear words, interrupted by panting and lewd noises, leaves your mouth, and you rut your hips against his hand, urging him to go deeper.

it seems to work. the dark look that was lingering on genji's face was replaced with a spark, and his movements become more free, no longer limited by the shackles of his insecurity. his well-earned confidence starts to shine through, and you smile in satisfaction, but only for a moment. with genji now seemingly returned to his former playboy glory, you find yourself unable to think straight, too busy writhing under his touch, crying out his name and clenching at the sheets.

"i could get used to hearing you say my name like that," genji comments, a teasing grin on his face.

oh god, please shut up, you think. it was almost as if he wanted you to fall in love with him or something, which was definitely not a part of your plan– in fact, it was the exact opposite of what you wanted.

"don't... say– fuck," you want to tell him not to say things like that, but you're overwhelmed with the feeling of your fast-approaching orgasm. what unfortunate timing. "gonna cum."

genji picks up the pace, unable to decide if he wants to look at your face or at his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you. you attempt to clench your thighs together, though genji's body blocks the action, and as you come undone, he decides the best thing for him to look at is your expression.

you squirm beneath genji, eyes squeezed shuts and knuckles turning white from the force with which you're grasping at your bedsheets. he watches carefully, taking in every minute detail of the way you look when you cum, while still fucking his fingers into you as you ride out the high of your orgasm. once you still, he slides his fingers out, the matte grey now slick and shiny. you open your eyes just in time to watch him pop his fingers in his mouth. he looks back at you through half-lidded eyes, a devious smirk on his face as he watches your already blown-out pupils widen at his actions. to add icing to the cake, he licks his lips, and suddenly you think 'wow, i'd let him do anything to me'.

"god," you mutter, shifting awkwardly. you were trying to rub your thighs together at the thoughts coursing through your mind, but genji was in the way.

you trail your eyes along his body, coming to a halt at the bulge in his joggers. you reach for the waistband of his pants, tugging them down to the middle of his thigh, but the position he was sitting in prevented you from getting them any further. genji climbs off of the mattress and yanks his pants and boxers off himself, then proceeds to do the same with your underwear. the intensity of the hunger between the two of you was so thick it was almost physical, and you can't pull your eyes away from him.

to your surprise, his dick was made of flesh. not that you had any complaints either way– it was just unexpected. you take a moment to admire him, then reach out to pull him back into the bed with you. genji resumes his position between your legs, lifting them up so that your knees are at your chest. the two of you both look down, watching in anticipation as he slides inside of you. he slowly pushes himself in farther, continuing until he bottoms out.

you both moan, almost in sync, at the sensation, and make eye contact again. genji positions his arms on either side of your head and touches his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes, as you dig your nails into his shoulder. one of your hands finds its way back to his hair, gently tugging at the spiky black tufts, keeping him as close to you as you could.

it doesn't take long for genji to find a good rhythm, his thrusts deep and and on the slower side. each movement coaxes noises out of you– his name, mostly, but a few mewls and downright pornographic-sounding moans as well. he kisses you again, lustful and passionate, and slides his hand into your hair to cradle your head. he pulls away, trailing kisses from your jawline to your collarbone, a few of which will surely leave some faint marks. you're not worried about that though– the only person who'd have the gall to comment on it was cassidy, anyways.

"you sound so pretty," he mumbles into your neck.

your breath catches in your throat at his words, and your grip on his hair tightens slightly. he sounded so so hot, it sent a shiver down your spine. "mm," is the only response you can manage.

one particular thrust hits perfectly, and you short-circuit, digging your nails deep into genji's shoulder and whimpering his name. he lifts his head to look you in the eye, his eyes honing in on your lips. his movement becomes more insistent, and he kisses you again, muffling your moans.

for the next few minutes, the only sounds in the room were that of your needy whines, genji's panting and occasional grunts, and the soft skin-on-skin contact. genji was surprisingly much more gentle than you'd anticipated, affection dripping from every action. it was enough to make you start to feel a bit of regret about the whole 'one time only' spiel, but you couldn't really focus on that when he was looking at you, and touching you, and fucking you the way he was.

with the stimulation of genji inside of you, and the way he was purring praise and sweet nothings into your ear in between the barrage of kisses, it didn't take long for you feel your climax coming up. from the way genji was beginning to become more shaky and haphazard in his movements, you could tell the same was true for him.

"genji," you whisper. "i'm gonna cum."

he hums in response, furrowing his brow. "me too."

a few seconds of silence pass, and then genji looks... lost. "uh, where should i...?"

"wherever you want," you say, not really thinking. 'inside' was the first thing that came to mind, but that felt weird to say. was it weird to ask your coworker cum inside you? yeah, probably, but it couldn't be any weirder than the fact that you were having such intimate, needy sex with your coworker in the first place, right?

genji slows down and looks at you with wide eyes. "what? no preference?"

"um, i mean," you cut yourself off, biting your lip to suppress a moan. "i was gonna say inside, but like... up to you."

"are you serious? you want me to..."

so it was weird, you think, instantly regretting that you spoke. "do whatever you want."

genji stops moving, and you let out a pitiful involuntary whine.

"i'm asking, what do you want?"

does he want me to spell it out for him? you wonder. fuck it.

"i... want you to cum in me, genji," you say, looking him in the eye with a serious expression. you ignore the fact that your cheeks are almost literally burning, and also opt to ignore the little voice in your head chastising you for being so awkward.

a choked noise escapes him, and his face turns pink. he promptly hides himself in the crook of your neck again. after a few more thrusts, you can feel the burning pleasure of your orgasm reaching its peak, prompting you to cling tightly to genji. he leans back to watch, and as you clench around him, he loses his composure as well. a soft chorus of each others' names and 'fuck' fills the room as genji fucks you through your orgasm, neither of you breaking eye contact. genji leans in for another kiss as he cums. this time is somehow even more passionate than the others, and you immediately miss him when he leans back and pulls out.

you almost let an 'i love you' slip out, but immediately realize how stupid that would be, and opt to just shut your mouth entirely instead. a silence falls over the room, with the both of you breathing heavily and casting shy glances at one another as if you didn't just have passionate, unprotected sex. genji moves first, sliding into the bed beside you and propping his head up on his hand.

this is definitely going beyond what this was supposed to be, you tell yourself, but really, you're not mad about it. sure, the plan was originally for you guys to have meaningless sex and then pretend it never happened, but that plan started to crumble almost as soon as he walked through your door. you were still worried that you were reading too far into it– maybe he was like this with everyone he slept with.

"can i... be honest with you?" he asks. you nervously look over at him, an overwhelming sense of dread filling your stomach.

"yeah, of course," you reply casually. acting calm and collected when you were pretty sure you were about to hear something you really didn't want to hear was a trait you'd quickly adapted as an overwatch agent, and damn, were you thankful for it right now.

"i... haven't been with anyone in a long time," he admits. "like... since the accident."

you stay quiet. you're unsure of what to say, and you can tell he's not done talking, anyway.

"i couldn't fathom anyone wanting to be with me, considering... you know," genji sighs and averts his eyes. "i've liked you for so long, but i didn't think you'd be interested in me at all. i'm... barely even human."

you're still quiet, trying your best to process what he's saying.

"oh, yeah, sorry. i know you said this was a one time thing, and that's fine. i just thought you should know that you treating me like a person... and making me feel wanted... it means a lot," he continues. "even if it was just sex, i enjoy being around you."

"i'm... really in over my head," you mutter, mostly to yourself. "this is really unexpected, honestly. like, all of it. everything."

genji's face falls, and you realize that you misspoke. he shifts uncomfortably and starts to sit up, obviously preparing to leave. you reach for his arm, wrapping your hand carefully around the metal.

"not unwelcome, just unexpected. i... didn't want to get feelings involved because i was sure they wouldn't be returned," you explain. "you seemed kind of unapproachable. i was taking a shot in the dark."

genji laughs a little. "i seem to give that impression. it's not really the case... or at least, not with you."

you gently pull him back to your side, holding his face in your hands and giving him a quick kiss. you can't find the words to convey the emotions you feel, so you hope that touch would suffice. he presses his forehead against yours and wraps an arm around your waist, and the two of you just lay there, basking in each others' presence. this was... an unplanned turn of events, but you were much happier with this outcome.

"hmm. so much for the whole 'no strings attached' thing, huh?" you say quietly. "looks like there's definitely strings. lots of them."

genji laughs again, and you find your heart skipping a beat at the look on his face. yeah, there were so many strings tethering this man to your heart. you wanted to tell yourself that weren't sure how exactly you ended up like this, but the moment you saw him take off his mask and show you his most well-kept secret, you knew there was much more than sexual attraction there, and that there was no going back.

"thank you," genji says, pulling you out of your trance. "for... overlooking my flaws, liking me as i am. you're truly the most beautiful person i know."

you smile at him, feeling your heart quite literally melt at the way he's looking at you.

"you're beautiful, genji," you tell him. and he was. the scars and metal that made up his body weren't flaws– they were a part of him, therefore they were beautiful, too. they weren't something you had to overlook to find him captivating, but you'd tell him all about that at another time.

#genji shimada x reader #overwatch x reader #genji x reader

[freelancearsonist]

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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#cece writes #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut

[cowardlysimon]

I'm sorry but some of you need to stop being so rude when it comes to terms like pred and prey or even the word vore itself. I understand you can be uncomfortable with them but it doesn't mean EVERYONE has to stop using these terms. Some people are comfortable with these terms as it's what they're used to.

Pred and prey aren't sexual terms they are just used to describe who gets eaten and who doesn't.

It's literally meant to describe animals and if they eat other animals or not.

Just because a sexual side of a community uses these terms doesn't mean they're ruined forever.

I'm not saying if you're uncomfortable with them you're weird, I'm only saying if you actively go around forcing people to stop using these words or if you make people feel unsafe in a safe space, then you are the problem here.

People have their preferences for everything. Some people don't see vore as sexual but don't care if people who do see it that way look at their stuff or interact. Some people do care and that's okay. Some people are comfortable with some words others aren't. Not everyone likes digestion and some other people do.

I just don't like how some people are going around policing each other into being completely 100% wholesome and clean. I've seen too many people get practically harrased into removing the word vore or prey and pred from their blogs just because they don't like it.

This is NOT how we take care of issues here. We are only creating a toxic environment where if you are slightly off of what everyone else wants then you are wrong.

And by the way, if you go around actively telling people they have a kink due to their use of vore or their use of pred/prey you are just as bad as the people going around saying we are posting porn despite saying over and over this is sfw.

You are causing the same problem we had before but you are "on our side"

#sfw vore #nonsexual vore #cowardlyposting #e a/t #swwh #serious post i guess #it just seems like some people are being so rude lately?? #its very annoying when all people want to do is cope and have fun #just because people cope differently doesn't mean they are the devil

[myhairpintrigger]

MY SWEET WRITER PLS DO ME FAVOUR OF A DARKLING AND FEM READER CARRIAGE SMUT . I need the desperation factor where they couldn’t even wait to get back to the little palace . In other terms extremely h o r n e y reader and darkling .

i hope u like and choose to write this if not it’s completely ok

thank u and stay safe u beautiful mind

this is just… somewhat plotless ;) IF U FEEL ME. all my work is done at 3 am so i apologize for the mediocrity. also this is literally just … porn with a slight plot. no other way to describe it. pls don’t interact unless ur 18+.

warnings: NSFW CONTENT. it’s literally just smut. it’s all just smut. smut under the cut just go away if ur a child

word count: 1.7k

Desperate (aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

The ride back to Os Alta was painfully long. You sat across from your husband and kept your eyes on his. His stare was heated and your fingers itched to reach for him. This was probably the most time you’d spent with him in the last few weeks because of his duties with the Second Army, and you wanted him. In any way that you could have him. 

You sat sandwiched between Feydor and Ivan who were bored and looking out the window. Aleksander’s eyes were wide and he was staring at you with a type of desire that made you press your thighs together underneath your dress. 

Of course, you still had hours to go before you reached the capital. Though, you weren’t sure you could make it. And by the look on your husband’s face, you could tell he was thinking the exact same thing. 

“Ivan. Feydor.” 

Both men turned their heads towards your husband as he spoke their names, and you bit your lip. 

“Get out.” Aleksander commanded sharply. His voice had a sharp edge to it and Ivan raised his eyebrows and shook his head. 

“What do you mean?” He asked incredulously. 

“What do I mean? I mean get out of this carriage immediately and ride a horse or something. Walk for all I care. Just get out.” He breathed. 

Ivan looked at him and then looked at you, seemingly not understanding what was going on. But he tapped the back of the carriage a few times hard and it came to a stop. When it stopped, he and Feydor climbed out and left the two of you alone. Your eyes once again met your husband’s and he unblinkingly stared back at you as the carriage lurched forward again. 

You couldn’t help your next action, because before you knew what you were doing, you had pushed yourself off of the seat across from him and threw yourself across the gap keeping you two apart. His hands received your clumsily tossed body with grace and reassurance, catching you by your waist. He tugged you onto his lap as comfortably as he could and lifted your skirts hurriedly, pushing them up to your knees so that you could easily straddle his lap. 

“You are never coming with me to camp again, do you understand me? You’re such a terrible temptation.” Aleksander groaned as you leaned forward to pepper sloppy kisses all over his neck. 

You only gave a hum in reply, rolling your hips down against his just once. He groaned and reached up behind you to grab a handful of your hair as gently as he could. He pulled your head away from his neck and brought you up to press a needy kiss to your lips. The desperation shared between your lips tasted delicious on your tongue and you let out a moan into his mouth. His fingers tightened in your hair and he pulled you closer, his nose pressing against yours as he kissed you. When the two of you had a desperate need for air, he pulled away from you, leaving you gasping and starving for him. 

His forehead laid upon yours and his jaw tightened as he held the back of your head with his free hand, “I’ve needed you so badly.” He grumbled, leaning forward to peck your lips a few times. 

“Just as I’ve needed you.” You managed to whisper out as you rolled your hips down against his again. 

He tipped his head backwards and closed his eyes with a quiet groan and he reached down to grab your waist with both of his hands, “Don’t be a tease.” He hummed, clicking his tongue. 

“Then touch me.” You pleaded and leaned your head down to rest against his shoulder. 

He wasted no time in pushing the hem of your dress up to your thighs and he slipped his hands underneath your skirts. He gripped your thighs tightly and pushed your legs apart and you took note of the wetness that pooled between your thighs. You bit down on your bottom lip and tucked your face into the crook of his neck, letting out a quiet whine. 

“Aleksander, please.” You whispered, pressing your lips against his skin. 

You swore you heard him growl quietly and he pushed your underwear aside swiftly. 

“You’re already so wet. Is that for me?” He asked cockily and you let out a little huff and rolled your hips forward. 

“No. Answer me.” He commanded sharply as he dragged the tip of his middle finger up your folds. 

You shivered deliciously and nodded once, face still pressed against his neck, “Yes. Always.” You breathed, and were instantly rewarded with his middle finger sliding inside of you slowly. You reached up and gripped his upper arms near his shoulders and you let out a quiet, relieved huff of air as he slowly curled his finger inside of you. 

He was wasting absolutely no time though, because before you could comprehend the first finger, he was sliding a second into you with ease. Normally, he’d take his time with you but you suspected his patience had been thrown to the wind with the way he’d started to pump his fingers in and out of you at a moderate pace. A moan fell from your lips and you pulled your head away from his shoulder to look into his eyes. 

You stared up into his lust-darkened eyes and bit down on your bottom lip just a bit. Your cheeks heated up a bit under his gaze and you leaned in to lay your forehead against his. A little, lazy grin formed on his lips and he moved his fingers a bit faster, leaving you whimpering his name quietly. 

A few moments of this had you close to your climax and you reached up to cup his cheeks. You leaned in to kiss him heatedly, but he pulled back after just a couple of seconds and he shook his head, feeling you tighten around his fingers. 

“No. Not yet. I want you to cum on my cock.” He growled and quickly pulled his fingers out of your cunt. 

You gasped in shock and opened your mouth to protest but he was faster than you. He silenced you before you could speak by sliding his pointer and middle fingers into your mouth. He raised his eyebrows at you as if to egg you on and you wrapped your lips around his fingers and licked them clean, enjoying the taste of yourself on his skin. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and you hurriedly reached down between your bodies and unfastened his belt and undid his pants. You reached down into his pants and gently freed his nearly completely hard cock. He groaned quietly at your touch and you wrapped your fingers around him, slowly stroking him. 

The sound that came out of his mouth was heavenly, even more so the second time he moaned, because it was in the form of your name. You smiled, pleased with yourself, and you continued to stroke his cock until his hand was around your wrist and he was stopping you. 

“Stop. I need to be inside of you.” He breathed and adjusted you in his lap just a bit for comfort. He reached between the two of you and positioned himself at your entrance, his tip brushing against your folds, slick with your arousal. You were ready to whine and tell him to not be a tease before he wordlessly lifted you just a bit and lowered you down onto his cock. The movement had you gasping and you reached up to grab onto his shoulders while you adjusted to his size and sunk down onto him entirely. You flickered your gaze up to his and he gave you one quick smile before he grasped your waist and held you up while he set a rapid pace with his hips. You let out a loud moan that resembled his name somewhat and you tossed your head backwards, moving your hips with his, in time with his thrusts. 

It was likely the most unceremonious and rushed sex you’d ever had with your husband. Normally Aleksander took his time with you, made you beg and plead before he finally gave in and fucked you. Not now. The desperation between the two of you was palpable. 

You let out a soft whine and began to lift and drop your hips in time with his movements, holding onto his shoulders for rapport. He swore loudly and reached up with one hand to grab a handful of hair from the back of your head. 

“Fuck. I love you.” He growled and then pulled your head backwards with your hair. He lowered his lips down onto your throat and he flicked his tongue against your skin, “Such a good girl for me.” He mumbled, his voice making your skin vibrate. 

His free hand made its way between the two of you and he pressed his thumb down against your clit, rolling it in slow circles. You let out a cry and rolled your hips into his touch as you continued to bounce on his lap, meeting his hurried thrusts. You moaned out his name as you chased your orgasm, feeling it build up quickly inside of you once more. 

“I’m so close, Aleksander.” You whimpered, tightening your hold on his shoulders. 

“Do it. Cum.” He commanded through labored breaths against your neck. 

It didn’t take long for your climax to make you see white and you let out a gasp before you moaned his name, your head lolling backwards. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, you heard your husband moan in tandem with you and you felt his release just after your own. 

The two of you sat in silence for a long time trying to catch your breaths and come back down from your highs, Aleksander’s thumb lazily still moving around your clit. Finally, he moved his hand away from you and he wrapped both of his arms around you and pulled you down against his chest. 

“I’d like to say we were discreet but I reckon we are going to catch hell for this from Ivan and Feydor.” He mumbled, resting his cheek against your shoulder. 

You laughed and then shrugged, reaching up to run your fingers through his tousled hair. 

“It was worth all the hell in the world.”

#ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine #the darkling imagine #the darkling x you #the darkling imagine #the darkling x reader #the darkling #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #grishaverse

[kyriethesquishysquid]

Betrayal Never Felt So Good (König/Fem!Reader) Chapter 1

You can find Chapter 2 here, Chapter 3 here, Chapter 4 here, Chapter 5 here, and Chapter 6 here!

Summary: The reader is a military nurse currently employed by Shadow Company. She was sent out with a small team into the middle of nowhere to gain intel on the enemy, her presence only a precaution as it should have been an easy in-and-out mission. Unfortunately for the Shadow team, KorTac had also been working on a lead in the same area. One thing led to another and the reader was forced to watch as her team was slaughtered mercilessly. Rather than kill her as well, she was taken back as a hostage and kept captive by the group's colonel, König.

Word Count: ~8.5K

Rating: Mature (For Smut)

A/N: To preface this story - I’ve never played the storyline of any COD games, nor do I know a damn thing about the military, much less special forces, so there will be inaccuracies galore, but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless! My take on König is somewhere between the headcanons of him being a ruthless psycho and a shy bean. Also, don’t come at me with complaints of this not being realistic, please. This is fanfic, loves. It doesn’t have to be realistic. Plus, if I was the one captured by this tree of a man and he was interested? Morals and reality be damned. I’m hopping on that train lmfao. Also, I wrote this entire thing in less than 24 hours and was too eager to post it to do a bunch of editing, so please excuse any errors!

Important Details: Occasional use of Y/N. Reader appearance is left vague but is described in little details such as being short (no exact height used), chubby, and with hair at least long enough to be pulled back. This story is essentially porn with plot, so literally over half of this is smut.

TW: Body shaming, violence, and attempted assault from random asshole #1. A few insecurities surrounding weight by the reader. Canon violence toward others by König. Super fast burn, unprotected sex, oral, fingering, Dom/Sub, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, suggested Stockholm syndrome (but really reader is just a touch-starved, thirsty bitch for Gentle!Giant König), pet names (in English and German), bad German translations bc I’m a lame monolingual American, no beta we die like the jackass Graves. Crappy Translations:

Ich werde dich mit deinen eigenen Eingeweiden füttern, bevor du diesen Satz beenden kannst! - I will feed you your own intestines before you can finish that sentence!

Maus- Mouse

Süßes mädchen - Sweet girl

Heilige Scheiße/Scheiße - Holy shit/shit

Mein schatz - My darling

Mein Gott - My god

Kleines - Little one

Verdammt, sieh dich an, kleine Maus - Damn, look at you, little mouse.

Oh, du kleine Füchsin! - Oh, you little vixen!

It was probably stupid. Scratch that, you knew it was stupid, but you couldn’t help but enjoy the company of the large Austrian man before you. Despite being the one to kidnap you and keep you tied up in this basement-like room for almost a full day now, the conversation had been flowing between you two like you were good friends. Maybe it was the gentle way he was treating you. Maybe it was the fact he’d kept his promises to you thus far. No matter the reason, you knew it was dangerous, this trust growing between you and him, but you were going to lean into it nonetheless.

“Hey, uh, I- I promise I’m not complaining but… why haven’t you, ya know, hurt me yet?” you asked softly. 

König let out a heavy sigh, his mask fluttering around his face temptingly before he dropped back into his chair. It was hard to see his eyes from across the room but you were certain he was staring at you nonetheless. His gaze was heavy anytime it was on you, palpable in a way that made goosebumps crawl over your skin. 

“You’ve given me no reason to,” he replied after a moment, “And, in all honesty, you weren’t our original target. In fact, it should have been anyone but you.”

You almost asked why, but he was quick to continue his explanation as if he hadn’t even stopped. 

“You’re a nurse, ja? A nurse who does not see combat often, according to the intel we’ve been able to gather about your team, and that means you have little to no information we need.”

A warmth crept up your neck as he casually talked about you as if you were nothing of import, essentially a useless captive. It made your heart sting in an odd way. 

“Ah… I see,” you hummed quietly. 

“So now, we wait until your squadmates come in for the rescue, and then we get what we need from them.” 

You managed a little nod but it stopped short when an embarrassingly loud rumble emanated from your stomach. Eyes widening, you nervously glanced his way to see if he’d caught it, only to find him getting to his feet. 

“My apologies. You’ve been here quite some time with nothing but water. Let me go grab something for you.”

Before you could argue, he was out in the hallway, instructing one of the guards to step inside and keep an eye on you until he returned. The instant the young brunette stepped into the room, something felt off. Why? You weren’t sure. Maybe it’s just because you’d grown used to the “comfort” of your kidnapper. More than likely though, it was the way he was staring at you. 

As you were stewing in your thoughts, trying to figure out your emotions, the man crossed the room and stopped at your feet with a laugh.  

“So, you’re the broad the colonel’s been hiding? Interesting.”

The man’s words were spit with pure vile and reeked of danger. You instinctively leaned away when he reached out for your face and the disobedience was quickly rewarded with a hefty smack, tearing a cry of shock from your lips. While the sting was painful, it was nothing worse than you’d experienced before. Unfortunately, you knew he wasn’t going to stop there, the leer in his eyes enough to make your stomach uneasy as he stalked in circles around you like a predator to its prey.

“A little round for my taste, but I can see it. The colonel must have a thing for soft and small. Probably because he’s a fucking mountain. Opposites attract and all that jazz,” he snickered, “Too bad the bastard is too scared to just take what he wants. But don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not a little bitch like him.”

Hearing him talk about König in such a way did weird things to your body. Anger began to rear its head. What kind of person talked about their commanding officer that way? You may not have been a full-blown soldier in the practical sense but you could never imagine speaking filth like that about your superiors. 

“Just because you lack the self-control to be a decent human like him doesn’t mean everyone does,” you bit out through a glare, “I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last human on earth.” 

He paused, eyebrows flying up in surprise, and, for one silly little moment, you’d thought you’d gotten through to him. Then reality struck hard with his fist across your face. A scream escaped your lips as the pain finally registered through the shock, your cheek aching to the heavens. 

“Now, see, you just had to go and be a smart ass. And here König talked about how compliant you were. Don’t tell me you got a hardon for the colonel, sweetheart,” he touted with a cackle, “And, for your information, it wasn’t a request. Either you can suck it up and make this easy, or I’ll take what I want either way.” 

Before he could do anything more, you tilted your head back and screamed, long and loud, for König. Of course that wasn’t allowed for very long. His second punch cut you off instantly, causing your vision to swim as you cried out again. You could hear him mutter something under his breath and you brought your eyes up only to find him drawing his fist back once more. 

“Fuck!”

You braced for impact, tears slipping down your cheeks through your clenched eyes, but the sound of a door crashing open interrupted his assault. The sound of a solid thud and a scream of pain tore your attention to the sudden group piling into the room, then more specifically to your captor-turned-savior pinning your assailant to the floor by one knee on the smaller man’s back, his arms wrenched behind him in a way that looked horrifying. He was snarling words in a mixture of German and English but you weren’t able to make out a single thing as you watched on in awe while he slammed the man’s face repeatedly into the concrete floor. 

“You are lucky I don’t kill you now!” König thundered, voice echoing through the room. 

“I- I’m sorry, I-”

“Nein! Ich werde dich mit deinen eigenen Eingeweiden füttern, bevor du diesen Satz beenden kannst!”  

Shivers crawled up your spine at the ruthless aggression in König’s voice. It was new, unexpected, and you were suddenly even more grateful not to have been on the receiving end of his anger. 

“Take him to his room and see to it that he does not leave. I will deal with him later,” König hissed, shoving the now bruised and bloody soldier toward the two at the door. 

“Yes, colonel, right away, sir.”

The moment the door closed, he deflated, shoulders slumping as he pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something under his breath. You watched carefully as he closed the gap between the two of you. 

“I’m sorry, maus, are you hurt?” 

And instantly, it was like that war-hardened soldier had never existed, replaced once again by the gentleman you’d spent the last few hours with. You shook your head slightly and watched him kneel before you. A little smile twitched up the corners of your lips in amusement as you realized he was still taller on his knees than you were sitting in the chair.

“Nothing that I can’t handle anyway,” you replied quietly, voice trailing off as his hands cupped your face gently.

His touch was tender in ways you hadn’t expected as he shifted your head around, taking in the damage with a sigh. Thankfully, other than a sore and swollen cheek, that asshole hadn’t gotten the chance to do anything more before König had returned. 

“Thank you.” 

The giant before you froze, looking as surprised as you felt. Had you really just thanked your captor? Face warming, you watched him watch you. You could have taken it back, but not only would that have been weird, it would have been a lie. Because as far as hostage situations went, this was the best one you could imagine, and he had just saved you from one of his own when he could have turned a blind eye. Instead, you waited patiently for him to react.

“Hurting someone defenseless is cowardly,” he muttered lowly.

So the infamously ruthless König had an honor code. Interesting. That explained a lot, really. If it weren’t for the fact you’d seen him kill multiple of your allied Shadows with a brutality unparalleled, you’d think he wasn’t the revered Operator he really was. The silence grew in leaps and bounds, a strange charge in the air between you, until the moment was interrupted by another untimely growl of your stomach.

“Ah, yes, food!”

He grabbed a brown paper bag from beside the door and brought it over only to pause once he was in front of you once more. 

Confused, you watched on as his eyes darted around you in obvious thought before you finally broke the silence with a soft, “König?”

As if snapped out of a trance, he rushed over and snagged the black folding chair from across the room just to plop it loudly on the floor at your feet. He quickly took a seat and started opening the bag.

“I apologize but I can’t exactly unbind you,” he spoke softly, “Not yet, anyway.”

Your heart began to race at the implication. He was going to feed you. It was hard to decipher how you felt about it, a potent mixture of surprise, adoration, lust, and embarrassment hitting you all at once. 

“O-Oh, okay,” you mumbled.

Eyes lowering, you watched in interest as he carefully peeled an apple and cut it into bite-sized slices with a fancy-looking pocket knife. It was hilarious how tiny his massive hands made the fruit seem. All humor drained from your thoughts when he picked up a piece and slowly brought it your way. 

König’s eyes were wide beneath the sniper hood when you glanced up but you quickly dropped your gaze once more self-consciously as you parted your lips. Before you could stop it, a mortifying moan of delight fled your lips as you crunched into the deliciously sweet fruit, but you couldn’t find enough fucks to care as the hunger in your belly ramped up. When he picked up the next piece, you preemptively opened your mouth in wait. 

This continued on for quite some time in a comfortable silence until you swallowed the last piece and you almost whined at the loss. Thankfully, it seemed he wasn’t done. He snagged a block from the bag next and your mouth watered as you finally realized it was a brick of cheese. Surprising, but delicious and welcomed nonetheless. The cheese passed much quicker as it was a small chunk and you couldn’t help but watch in elation as he grabbed another thing from the bag. It appeared to be the last of the food because he crumbled up the paper sack and tossed it aside before opening up the little red box. 

“Do you like dark chocolate?” he asked suddenly. 

A grin spread across your lips as you nodded a little too eagerly. 

“Of course!”

You couldn’t tell for certain, thanks to the mask, but you were sure he smiled with the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. Why was that cute? That shouldn’t have been cute. 

“These are from Germany,” he explained warmly, “A brand called Schogetten.” 

He broke off one of the small pieces and brought it to your already parted lips. As the sweet morsel melted across your tongue, you went limp in disbelief, a little whine muffled in your closed mouth. You don’t know if it was because you hadn’t eaten in almost a day, or if it was the fact it was different than your usual chocolate back home, but the flavor was unparalleled. If all your dignity hadn’t already gone through the window, you wouldn’t have certainly lost it for that chocolate. 

Piece after piece, he fed you dutifully and silently, until you were too full for more. 

“I’m- I’m glad you enjoyed that.”

His voice was low, huskier than before, and it sent flutters through your heart. 

Feeling much more relaxed and comfortable, you had to smile back in response, carefully nudging your foot against his much larger boot. 

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” you replied.

That familiar weight of his gaze was on you once more but it didn’t take long to figure out why, one hand reaching out and steadying your face while his other thumb came to wipe your bottom lip. 

“You have some chocolate here,” he mumbled.

It was sweet of him to help when you would have had no way of knowing. The feelings of adoration dissolved into something much darker when his hand went beneath his hood and you heard the audible pop of his thumb leaving his mouth. 

OH.

It seemed he realized what he was doing at the same time as you, his posture going rigid as his eyes widened. A soft curse left him as he suddenly jerked his hand back down. 

“I apologize. I don’t know what came over me.” 

Fuck. Was this Stockholm syndrome? Did that set in this quickly? It wasn’t exactly a topic you’d researched much in your nursing classes. If it was… it certainly wasn’t a bad feeling. 

Biting your lower lip, you tried to steady your breath as the flutters in your chest grew stronger. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him.

Another bout of silence filled the space between you both, but this time you were practically vibrating in your seat from the anxious excitement thumping in your veins. As you stared into his half-lidded eyes, your thoughts went wild. 

What was going to happen now? There was a static charge in the air and it made your skin bump up. How long did you have before your team came? Were they coming? Did you even want them to come now? 

Your thoughts were brought to a screeching halt when he lunged forward, hands cradling your face carefully as his mouth smashed painfully hard against yours. It was a delicate juxtaposition and your brain took a few long seconds to register what was happening, but the instant you realized he was kissing you, you melted into it with a moan. The scratch of the hood against your lips was a unique texture but not entirely unpleasant, although you’d much rather have his lips bare. 

The chair creaked with a loud groan as you tipped forward, eager for more of the Austrian and frustrated by the rope keeping you bound. 

A huff of annoyance slipped out as you snapped beneath your breath, “Fucking rope!”

“Süßes mädchen,” König groaned low in his throat.

He pulled away just as suddenly as he’d started and you actually did whine out at that, not caring how pitiful you sounded, until you saw him take out the pocketknife. Fear bubbled acridly in your throat as you swallowed hard, eyes pinned to the blade as he flicked it out. König hadn’t hurt you yet. There was no reason to think he would now… right? 

It became painfully obvious that your intuition was right when he stepped behind you and fingered the ropes. 

“Stay still, maus, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You did as instructed and we were rewarded with the freedom to move as the rope snapped and fell away. With a long, loud, groan, you leaned back and stretched up to the ceiling, a dopey smile painted on your face as you loosened all the stiff muscles. As you relaxed back into the chair, you found König in front of you once more, almost looking nervous in his stiff posture. 

“Thank you,” you said warmly. 

When you stood, you were made acutely aware of just how short you were compared to him. You’d known he was tall but seeing him now, how far you had to crane your neck back to meet his gaze, it was so different. 

“I’m trusting you not to try anything.”

His voice was tight, whether from excitement or worry you weren’t sure, and you immediately knew how you wanted to prove your trustworthiness. Grabbing one of his massive hands in both of yours, you pulled him over to the cot in the back corner of the room. It was almost comical how easily he followed you and allowed you to push him to sit on the bed but, as you stepped between his knees and got face to face, there was no denying who was actually in charge when your eyes met. If his physical presence wasn’t enough to deter you, the power in those beautiful blues was reminder enough. 

“I think I owe you, for being so kind and for saving me,” you whispered, hands cupping his jaw to mimic the hold he’d had on you, “If that’s okay, sir.” 

When he didn’t stop you, you took the chance to kiss him again. It was even better the second time around. The groan he let out against your lips was pornographic and you found your knees weakening as his arms wrapped around your thighs, hands resting right below your ass. It didn’t take long for your desire to overwhelm your thoughts and you broke the kiss with a gasp of air, carefully lowering to your knees between his legs. What you weren’t expecting was the absolute mind fuck it was to see such a big man looming above you, nor the way seeing his thick thighs on either side of your head would make your pussy throb. 

“Well, süßes mädchen?” he teased, leaning back onto his hands. 

What a sight that was; Black shirt pulled so tight across his body that every ridge of his muscles bumped through, dark green cargo pants now sporting a growing bulge, the intensity of his gaze staring you down with something akin to amusement and delight. 

You could feel your hands shaking as you reached up. What little confidence you had previously was beginning to wane at the realization that you were going to actually be allowed to touch this adonis of a man. Taking a deep breath, you steeled your nerves and got on with it. To his credit, König didn’t push you to speed it up. In fact, he praised you softly with each touch. By the time you were pulling on his boxers to get his cock out, you were beyond soaked and arousal hummed like a bee through your body. The way it slapped against his stomach once free didn’t help your predicament one single bit. 

“Holy shit.”

You weren’t a virgin by any means but the size of him made you pause in shock. Of course. A giant man would have a giant cock. What else did you expect? It was surprisingly beautiful too; surrounded by trimmed blonde hair, thick, long, and curved, flushed tip leaking and just begging to be sucked. 

Swallowing hard, you let your fingers wrap around him and moaned when your fingers didn’t meet. If you were lucky enough to do more than suck him off, you were going to be sore… blissfully, happily, sore. 

“Ah, scheiße, ja. That’s it, maus,” he purred, cock twitching in your hand. 

Your face warmed under the praise. Leaning forward on your knees, you braced your hand against one of his thick thighs before bringing your lips to the tip of his cock, pressing a gentle kiss to the sensitive skin. The hiss he drew in was delightfully guttural. You needed to hear more of him, needed to earn that praise and pay him back for his unprovoked kindness. Slowly, you moved down his cock, planting kiss after kiss until you came to the base. He was nearly vibrating with need when you finally poked your tongue out, tracing up the veins branching along the underside. 

With the way his body tensed, you’d almost thought you’d done something wrong but then his hand was in your hair, pulling it back as he guided your mouth to his head again. 

“Stop teasing or I’ll bend you across my lap, Y/N,” he commanded gruffly. 

The way your name sounded coming from his lips was deadlier than any poison. You wanted to hear it again and again, whispered in your ears and against your skin. Fuck. 

Oh, and the mental images. How did you tell him that you wouldn’t mind him spanking you at all? Hmm, an option for later, maybe? Pushing the thoughts aside, you finally gave in to your temptations and licked up the precum around his head before taking him into your mouth. 

“Heilige Scheiße!” 

His moan was heavenly in the most sinful ways, only rivaled by the little breathless whimpers he let out as you hollowed out your cheeks and slowly sucked him down. You knew there was no way you’d be able to fit the entirety of him, your jaw already aching from the stretch, but you were going to fit as much as humanly possible. Inch by difficult inch, you took him until he was pressing dangerously hard against your throat. Unfortunately, you couldn’t get your body to relax enough to take him in- your body’s self-preservation too strong- but you quickly thought of a loophole. 

Pulling back suddenly, you gasped out, “Push me down.”

“Huh?”

Giving him a coy smile, you said, “I know I can’t push past my body’s limits, but you can fix that. I want you in my throat so, please, just… push me down?”

His entire being shuddered and he took in a sharp breath as if he were going to argue, but finally, he relented with a nod. Flashing him a wink, you wrapped your lips around him once more.

“Take a breath,” he instructed softly. 

You barely got a lungful in before he arched into your face. Tears welled up in your eyes as he thrust in deep, saliva pooling in your mouth as you gagged around him, but you were able to relax just enough for him to push through. Mortification clawed at your brain as both tears and drool spilled out the instant he began to fuck your mouth, but worse was the embarrassing noises that escaped your throat. Thankfully he didn’t seem as perturbed by them, possibly even enjoying them if his groans were any indication. 

Blinking away the tears, you looked up at him and were rewarded with a pained moan.

“Scheiße, kleines maus, you look so perfect like this,” he groaned, “That pretty little mouth feels so- ah- so good.”

When he let you up, you inhaled a quick breath before going back down. Now feeling more comfortable with the sensations, you brought your hands back into play, one pumping the base of his cock while the other wiggled beneath his boxers to stroke his balls. It wasn’t long before you could hear little frantic whimper leaving his lips. The way his breath hitched and his fingers tightened painfully in your hair told you all you needed. You quickened your pace and played into the sucking noises that he seemed to relish. 

“A-Ah, fuck, I’m going to cum. B-Bitte. Bitte, bitte, bitte. Don’t stop!”

A flush of heat rushed through your core and you couldn’t help but moan around him. Something about hearing such a powerful man reduced to a pleasured mess was both arousing and flattering. His strangled gasp was the only warning you got before he slammed you down, hips arching into your face as his cock throbbed in your throat. 

Eyes burning and throat aching, you managed to pull up just enough to breathe and used your saliva to pump his cock faster. 

“Come for me, König, please,” you begged him weakly before taking him in your mouth again, your tongue laving his head lovingly. 

Almost instantly, he broke, rope after rope of cum filling your mouth as he groaned your name. As you looked up at him, you wished you could see his face, see more than just the squint of his eyes as you sucked him dry. Unfortunately, you knew you couldn’t ask that of him… yet. Maybe if you were lucky enough to be around him more, eventually you could earn that trust. 

It wasn’t until he was shuddering and tugging on your hair that you finally pulled back, content that he’d ridden out that wave as long as he could. A satisfied smile curled up your lips as you leaned your head against his thigh and watched him intently. The heavy rise and fall of his chest was enrapturing. What would it feel like to curl up against him and use those muscles as a pillow? 

You were torn from your daydreams when he patted his other thigh. 

“Up, now,” he demanded. 

Lifting your brows in shock, you let him guide you up onto the cot and sat on his thighs as commanded. 

“Yes, sir?” you asked curiously. 

König didn’t answer. Instead, a hand came to the back of your skull and jerked you forward while he sat up, a squeal of shock escaping as you fell against him hard. Before you could question him, a mouth was over yours. A decidedly bare mouth. No hood to impede it. Realization sent a shiver through your body and you couldn’t help but reach up and hold his jaw. Prickles of a shadow beard tickled your palms and fingers with each caress. There was no denying his jaw was strong, angular almost, as you soaked in the sensations. God you wanted to see him even more now. Your exploration was cut short when you felt the breach of a tongue between your lips and a hand between your thighs simultaneously. 

“König,” you gasped out softly against his mouth.

The chuckle he let out caused your core to clench in need.

“You didn’t think that I was done with you, did you, maus?”

He didn’t give you the chance to respond, tongue filling your mouth with vigor as you melted into him. You were suddenly very thankful that you’d been captured in your pajamas when his hand slipped easily beneath the elastic waist of your silky shorts. He let out a hungry groan when his fingers came into direct contact with your skin. 

“No panties?” he asked, amusement and lust heavy in his voice, “How lucky for me.” 

His words made you blush but the embarrassment was easily forgotten when one long finger ran down your cunt, tracing your slit in teasing strokes. 

“You’re already so wet, mein schatz.”

A broken snicker fled your lips as he tenderly slid two fingers between your lips and you whimpered out, “It’s not my fault you’re- fuck!” 

“I’m what?” he teased.

He made it impossible to respond, the calloused pad of his fingers making little swirls around your nub, just on the right side of not enough. 

“You-You’re, fuck, you’re- Ugh, you’re making it hard to talk!” you squeaked out. 

König let out a long rumbling laugh that felt way too nice against your chest. 

“Try, maus, tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Fuck, you’re so sweet, and you’re big, and your eyes are beautiful, and- and-” a pitiful squeal interrupted your train of thought when he slowly slipped a single finger into your cunt. 

“Annnd?” he purred. 

“I love your voice, fuck, I could listen to you read a dictionary!” you groaned.

“Mmm, good girl.”

Your knees went weak and your cunt clenched around his finger as your eyes flew open to meet his in surprise. 

“Ah, you like that, hmm? You like to hear what a good girl you’re being for me?” he asked, not-so-subtly grinding up against you with an already hardening bulge, “You’re being absolutely perfect, mein schatz. This little cunt gripping so tight. Almost as tight as your throat was on my cock. I’m almost afraid to take you.”

“No, please, please do, please! I can take it!” 

“Oooh, I know you can, süßes mädchen, don’t worry,” he hummed, quickening his finger as he twisted his palm to rest against your clit. 

Your forehead fell against his shoulder in utter defeat as you lost all inhibitions, grinding down against his palm with each thrust he gave. It was ridiculous how close you already felt with so little stimulation but there was no denying the ways your walls were flutter around him. Pleasure swirled through your core, growing tighter and tighter, until all you could think about was how fucking good he felt and how you wanted his cock in you, now.

A needy whimper fell from your lips when he suddenly pulled his hand away and you jerked back in his lap to stare at him in disbelief. 

“Wha-” 

Your voice went silent as you watched the way his tongue cleaned up his glistening fingers with a moan. Fuck. That was it. You were good and ruined. 

“I want to make sure you are good and ready, mein schatz, so lay down for me.”

Before you could even move, he picked you up as if you were nothing and dumped you onto the cot. It took a second for your brain to catch up, too shocked by the show of strength, and by then he was lying on the comically small bed on his stomach, mouth pressing hungry kisses to the insides of your soft thighs. 

“Mein Gott, you are so beautiful,” he groaned quietly, “So soft. So sweet.”

Instinctively, you slapped your hands over your face and let out a whine. No way was this beast of a man not only going down on you, but he was going to kill you with compliments while he did it. 

Almost instantly, your hands were thrown aside and you gaped at him in confusion, only to see his full lips curved up into a smirk, mask tucked behind his ears to expose even more of his beautiful features.

“None of that now. You will not hide from me. I want to see that pretty face when I make you scream.” 

Yep. You were dead. Dead and gone to heaven. When they raided the camp, you had just been killed with all your allies and this was some fucked up kind of reward for all your good deeds. 

All existential thoughts were wiped clean from your mind when you felt him tugging your shorts down. You quickly helped him, unable to stop the giggle that escaped when he tossed them aside with a curse. And then you were bare before him. He looked like a man starved and you were given no warning before he dived in. 

“Oh, fuck!” you gasped. 

Big hands wrapped around your thighs and tugged you closer, throwing your legs over his shoulders before moving to part your lips for his tongue. Before you could get used to the sensation, he thrust two fingers in your cunt, punching all the air from your lungs. 

“Scheiße kleines,” he groaned against your skin, “You taste so good. I could live between these thighs.” 

It was all too much. The swirl of his tongue on your clit, the girth of his fingers pressing oh-so-perfectly against that sweet spot only your toys could reach, the feel of his facial hair scraping against your sensitive skin. And then he added a third finger into the mix. 

“Ho-Holy fuck! König, ohmygodfuck!” 

You nearly collapsed in around him but he was quick to catch your legs, holding them apart with a hand and elbow on either side, his forearm pressing deliciously against your lower belly. That pressure alone sent you rocketing to the edge. Instinctively you reached down to grab his hair, only to come into contact with the fabric, and you couldn’t help but whine in frustration. You really wanted to touch him more. 

As if understanding your plight, he slowed until only his fingers were pumping in and out and lifted slightly. Something was brewing in his beautiful blues when they met your gaze. 

“I can’t take off the mask, mein schatz, I’m sorry,” he sighed. 

“It-It’s okay!” you assured him quickly, “I understand!” 

Despite your words, he kept staring at you, the sounds of his fingers sliding through your arousal the only noise in the room. 

“Here, close your eyes for a moment.”

You did as told, swallowing hard in anticipation, and then his hand grabbed yours. Your heart felt like it was trying to escape your chest as he guided your fingers below the hood into his short hair. It was a bit longer than you expected, having thought he would have a regulation military fade cut, and softer. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, tears invading your closed eyes. 

“Of course, maus.”

How in the actual fuck was this stranger- a literal mass killer- you’d met a day ago more in tune with your needs and willing to compromise than literally any other man you’d been with? 

A gasp tore from your throat, harsh and raw, when he immediately returned to his previous act. Somehow it was even more intense after the brief break; frantic, almost painful. 

“König, pl-please. Don’t stop!” 

His moan was the only response you got. Rather than take your words as an invitation to go harder or faster like most did, he listened and listened well, keeping the same even pace, building you steadily higher and higher. Words and thoughts became impossible, incoherent pleading and wanton moans the only sounds you could make as you began to shake around him. Your fingers snarled in his locks in a way that was probably painful but you couldn’t find the wherewithal to stop. 

“Ja, that’s it, maus,” he demanded, “Be a good girl and come for me.” 

Within seconds, that ever-tightening knot in your gut broke. You tried to scream but the pleasure left you mute, lips parted in a silent cry of his name as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through your being. When your breath finally came, so did the tears. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck, so- mm!- so good!” 

Just as it became too much, he lifted from your pussy with a heady groan. 

“Verdammt, sieh dich an, kleine Maus.” 

The moment the orgasm haze started to clear, you reached down and snagged his shirt, tugging on it to get him over you. He relented with a little chuckle when you whined his name. 

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, clean fingers gently tracing along your jawline. 

“Okay? The fuck you think? I’m absolutely dead in the best way,” you giggle, finally opening your eyes to meet his, “But… I still want you.” 

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you reached up at the same time and carefully pushed the hood back up, just enough to reveal his lips, your own curving up into a gleeful smile as you saw them. 

“Can I?” you asked hesitantly.

His answer came as the brutal crush of his lips on yours, pulling a moan from deep in your chest. As his tongue dominated yours, you took the initiative to reach between your bodies and palmed his cock, delighting in the way he whined. 

“Please, please fuck me,” you begged against his mouth.

“Couldn’t refuse you even if I wanted to,” he hummed back. 

You helped guide him as he lowered his hips to yours, unable to stop the gasp that escaped when you felt his fat head against your entrance. 

“You’re sure?” he asked suddenly. 

Brows furrowing, you dug your nails into his neck lightly and pulled him into another hungry kiss. 

“If you don’t fuck me, I might die.” 

That earned a warm laugh, a laugh that made your insides light up too bright, and a swift smack to the ass. 

“Well, we wouldn't want that, now would we?” 

When he began to push in, you tried so hard to keep your eyes open, wanting to see the expression in his, but it was too overwhelming. Despite his thorough prep, it’d been quite a dry spell for hookups due to work and it didn’t help that he was absolutely massive. It was a stretch, to say the least, but it hurt in all the best ways. 

“Oh mein gott,” König hissed into your mouth, “You are so tight, Y/N.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m pretty sure you’re just hung, big guy,” you teased through shaky breaths, “It’s- It’s good though.” 

“So fucking good.”

The metallic tang of blood filled your mouth when he suddenly caught your lips again, this time with too much teeth and force, but it only made you moan. The pain of a split lip was nothing compared to the delight of his cock stretching your walls. It felt like forever until his hips were against yours, but once they finally were, you were already needing more. You tried to rock your hips into him only for him to stop you with a bruising grip and a dark growl. His eyes were predatory when you found them and it lit another kind of fire in your belly. 

“Dont. Do. That,” he bit out gruffly, “Don’t move. Give me a second, mein schatz, or it’s going to be over far too soon.”

Pride fluttered to life in your chest at his admission and you couldn’t help but grin, earning another cheeky smack. 

“You’re enjoying this? My pain?” he teased warmly. 

You pouted slightly but couldn’t maintain the look, too enraptured by his pretty blues. 

“I have to admit that it feels good to know you’re as affected as me,” you whispered. 

He groaned, forehead falling against yours, and muttered, “You have no idea, my love. You feel- Gott, I can’t even describe it. I’ve never felt someone who fit me so perfectly.” 

Lips quirking up into a teasing smile, you replied, “I guess you’ll have to keep me around then, hmm? Because I can promise you, you’ve ruined all other men for me at this point.” 

König groaned and his hips rutted eagerly at your words. 

“Don’t tempt me, süßes mädchen,” he moaned, “I would love nothing more than to steal you and keep you here, all mine, to have whenever I wanted.” 

As he spoke, you fell more and more in love with the idea. And why shouldn’t you? This was the most romance you’d experienced in years, all your previous conquests being quick flings with soldiers who barely qualified as friends. König was the first one to truly see you in years. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, maus, you’re making this hard.” 

Biting your lower lip, you tested a little wiggle against his hips and were elated when he allowed it. 

“I’m already here, König, who says you have to let me go?” you whispered, “For all they know, I’m just another casualty.”

Logically you knew you shouldn’t feed into the delusion plaguing you both right now, but fuck did you want it. Something about the idea of being at his beck and call, being allowed to please him whenever either of you wanted, was a deliciously dangerous option. 

Suddenly, he drew out his hips and slammed back in with a strangled grunt. 

“You want that, hmm? Want to be my personal little whore, maus?”

The way you clenched around him made you both whimper and you instantly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a heated kiss. 

“Yes, yes, please! Wanna be allowed to have you whenever,” you whined, “Want you to use me.” 

Your nails found his shoulders and dug into the firm muscles there as the sound of your bodies meeting clouded the room. But you needed more, needed to feel more of him. Logically you knew you both needed to stay as clothed as possible, considering you could be interrupted any moment, but you couldn’t resist the urge to touch him. Slipping your hands under the hem of his shirt, you slid your nails up the length of his back, dragging the material with you until it gathered at his shoulders and you were granted the absolutely stunning visual of his abdomen clenching with each thrust of his hips. 

“God you’re beautiful,” you gasped out subconsciously. 

The noise König let out was unholy, deep and keening, as his fingers tightened on your hips once more. Even through the haze of bliss, you could see the way his cheeks lit bright red. It would be cute if he weren’t currently fucking you silly.  

“That’s-That’s my line, maus,” he chuckled breathlessly. 

Eyes trailing back up to his, you couldn’t resist leaning up as you pulled him down against you once more, your lips finding his ear with a little moan. 

“Then we’re both beautiful, König, because- fuck!” 

His pace grew brutal without warning as he shifted and suddenly it felt like he was slamming right against your cervix, the sharp pinch of pain making you yelp in surprise. It was clear the praise was doing something, a fact you stored away in your memory for later. Then he hit your cervix again. You almost tried to pull back until his hand left your hip, coming between your bodies to rub gentle circles across your clit. Fuck and that made the pain more than worth it. 

“Kö-König, close, please, just-” 

He groaned lowly and grunted out, “I know, I know. I’ve got you, mein schatz. Just relax and let go for me.” 

You finally released your hold on his back only to cup his jaw and draw him into a frantic kiss, panting out half-mumbled half-screamed moans as he tongued at your mouth. It was all too much. It was the best thing you’d ever experienced. When your climax finally hit, it felt like the world turned up on end. Collapsing back on the bed, you slapped a hand over your mouth to somewhat muffle the scream that escaped, but König had none of that. One big hand collected both of yours and pinned them to the bed by your wrists. 

“No! Let me hear what I do to you,” he snarled, “I want to hear every pretty little sound!”.

Looking up through wet eyelashes, you couldn’t stop the enamored smile that crossed your lips even as you whimpered for him. He looked so fucking good over you. What you wouldn’t give to see that sight every damn day. 

“Why are you so smiley?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone as he slowed his pace. 

“Just really fucking happy,” you giggled softly, “You feel so damn good and look just as amazing.” 

König’s lips twitched into a half smile before he shifted in place, keeping your hands pinned while he carefully lifted one leg up over his shoulder. Before he even moved, you could tell your body was going to resist the change in depth. Not that you would stop him. He could demand you attempt a headstand while he fucked you and you’d do it.  

“Oh FUCK!”

Your shriek earned a broken moan from the man above you but it didn’t stop him for even a moment, hips slamming into you with purpose. Fingers curling tight, you dug your nails into his hand and bit your lip hard to keep a hold of your senses, though it was for naught. The way his fat cock buried into your tight walls over and over was more than you could handle. You wanted to beg him to stop and to keep going until you died. 

“So tight for me, süßes mädchen,” he groaned huskily as his free hand came back to your clit, “One more.” 

“Eh!?” you gasped in disbelief. 

He grunted out a laugh and said, “Come for me, one more time. I want to feel you coming again before this is over.” 

You shook your head violently and retorted, “I can’t.” 

Even as you said it, he was easily proving your words wrong with his gentle stroking contrasting with the way he pounded your swollen cunt. His fingers tightened until it felt like your wrists would break under the force and yet you couldn’t find it in you to care, all self-preservation long gone. 

“You can and you will, mein schatz. I am nothing but a patient man.”

A pathetic whimper tumbled from your parted lips as you panted for breath beneath the exhaustion of it all. Suddenly though, he slows, releasing your hands and letting your leg fall aside. 

“König, wh-”

He silences you as he falls completely over you once more, the heavy feeling of his body against yours making you sigh happily. It only takes a moment to realize his reasoning, hands pushing your hair away while plush lips begin kissing along your neck. 

“Mmmm,” you hummed softly, fingers slipping up the back of his hood to find his hair again, “That feels incredible.” 

“You taste incredible,” he replied through a mouthful of your flesh, “Though, I must admit, my intentions aren’t so pure.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he bit down hard, hard enough that you reflexively yanked on his hair and screeched. The pain dulled to a low throb when he started licking and sucking over the wound, and you clenched hard around him when he rolled his hips into yours. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” you whined breathlessly. 

“Only with pleasure, maus,” he said with a chuckle, “Would never hurt a hair on this pretty little head.” 

Your heart fluttered traitorously at that. Deciding to return the favor, you moved aside his hood enough to reveal his thick, pale, neck and started kissing along the warm flesh. 

“Ah, s-scheiße.”

Poking your tongue out, you traced a line up to his ear and moaned at the taste of salt and skin. Even his sweat was driving you crazy. What was this man doing to you?  

The slow motions quickly turned into something much more primal when you wrapped your legs around his waist and sunk your teeth into his throat. 

“Oh, du kleine Füchsin!”

Groaning, you released his neck and whispered, “Fuck, I love hearing you talk.” 

“Then I shall talk to you,” he grunted through moans, “What should I say? Should I tell you how good you feel, how perfect you grip me? That I never want to leave this tight little cunt? How divine you look when you’re drunk on my cock?”

Despite your earlier protests, you could feel another orgasm brewing fast under his words and you let him know. 

“Ja, you going to come for me, aren’t you, schatz?”

“Oh god yeah, yes, please, keep- keep-” 

You pulled his hair taut as your limbs drew him in close, silently demanding to feel every inch of his body against yours, and his name spilled from your lips like a mantra. This one came up just as fast but much calmer, creeping up silently and taking you by surprise with its voracity. Something deep inside you snapped and you could feel your arousal gush down your cunt, coating your cheeks and the cloth beneath you. 

“Fuck, mein schatz, where- mein Gott, where do you want it?” he gasped out as you clenched around him. 

You didn’t even give it a second thought, locking your legs and pulling him into a ravenous kiss. 

“In me, please, I’m- I’m on birth control. I need to feel it in me,” you whined weakly into his mouth. 

His curses were muffled by your lips but their intensity wasn’t lost on you, the mumbled praises only adding to the flush on your skin. You bit his lower lip gently and suckled all while your nails scraped against his scalp and shoulders, doing your best to pull him under with you. 

“Oh, that’s my girl. My good girl,” he snarled, “Mine. All mine!” 

Stars burst behind your eyes as he buried his cock as far as possible in your walls, the throbbing sending little pulses of ecstasy through your veins as you tried hard to focus on working him through it. You only hoped you could return even a fraction of the bliss he put you through. 

A long, loud groan reverberated through the now silent walls as he went limp- though stubbornly keeping all his weight from pressing on you- and you had to smile to yourself, fingers now playing through his soft strands gently, in a silent apology for nearly ripping them out. 

“I’m going to move, hold onto me,” he instructed you quietly. 

You did as asked but the way he flipped your bodies over was still a shock. You instinctively tried to lift off of him only to be jerked back down, massive arms locking around you and holding you to his chest. 

“You are not going to hurt me, Y/N,” he murmured, “Rest. Relax.”

“O-Okay,” you whispered.

Face red, you fought all those negative inner thoughts away and gave in, earning a content little sigh from the big man. 

“You know, I never thought I’d have the best sex of my life while being a captive,” you joked easily, turning your head to rest your chin on your forearm, allowing you to observe him closely, “Where have you been all my life?” 

Your head bobbled like a boat on the ocean with each hearty laugh that left him and your heart clenched in delight at the pure joy in his eyes. 

“Waiting for you apparently, maus, took you long enough to get here.”

There was something strange in the way he looked at you, the tenderness in his touch as he held your face and stroked your lips, but your cockdrunk, touch-hungry, brain decided it couldn’t care less. All that mattered was how it made you feel, and God did it ever make you feel perfect.

#König #könig cod #könig x reader #König smut #COD smut #call of duty fanfic

[lobautumny]

The rhetoric of anti-porn ideologues is as insidious as it is annoying. They use the fact that porn addiction is a real phenomenon to paint anyone who consumes porn to any extent as an addict, which is patently delusional, but calling someone a desperate addict is a really easy way to get random people who don't know anything about the person being attacked onto the attacker's side, because if the audience don't know them and they try to defend themself as not being an addict, then it's very easy for the attacker to just go "see? Obviously they're just in denial and need help."

Another thing is that they start at a reasonable premise: Yes, porn addiction is a real thing that some people succumb to in the same way that one can get addicted to anything enjoyable, and there are businesses that should be under scrutiny that weaponize that fact and actively try to pray on addicts, which can ruin their lives much further than the addiction itself would on its own. But then the anti-porn acolyte falsely equivocates this very reasonable stance with "all porn is inherently damaging to society, and anyone who consumes porn to any extent is an addict."

The fact that people who do this schtick genuinely get a lot of respect despite literally just being puritans who farm clout by harassing random people online is as depressing as their shitty, anti-fun ideology and this toy's sick of seeing them.

There's a popular Youtube video essayist who made a tweet a while back claiming that all fetish porn is inherently immoral and fetishes have no place in an advanced society, and his sources boiled down to "trust me bro." He doesn't even give any kind of coherent argument for his stance. He just kind of asserts, based on nothing, that kink is a major contributing factor to how much mental illness exists in the world and that 90% of the world agrees with him. He then goes on to call anyone who disputes his claims a desperate addict attacking him from degenerate subreddits, and he paints his detractors in this way specifically to avoid having to make an actual counterargument to anything they are saying, because then he would sound like a stupid pseudointellectual asshole (precisely what he is) because he doesn't have a counterargument in the first place.

And if you find yourself thinking, while reading this, "Hm, this all mirrors a lot of argument tactics commonly used by a particular group who are known for not being too terribly fond of minorities, especially jewish people," you would be exactly correct. This toy's not saying that every anti-porn ideologue is a nazi, but a lot of them are reactionary conservatives who, at the very least, are not fond of the LGBT, and most of the ones who aren't still use the same exact rhetorical tactics based on dogma and harassment that nazis use to prop their bigotry up and make anyone who disagrees with them look like some kind of sickly degenerate, and that should be a red flag for anyone. In fact, unironic use of the word "degenerate" to negatively describe others should always raise alarms in your mind.

It's really incredible how scared so many people are of sexuality. This toy thinks a lot of it comes down to projection. Like, yeah, it sucks that you got addicted to porn at an early age and it stunted your social development or whatever, but perhaps your personal experiences are not universal. This toy doesn't want to say "skill issue" to people who have had genuine struggles with addiction, but damn, some people make it hard not to.

#autumn rants

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/740284683556929536/

Omg I'm so sorry! I wrote that anon when I was sleepy so it had very ham-fisted wording. Yes, I meant to ask about portraying self-esteem issues about bodies. I thought guys don't talk about it much.

To that one person, why would dudes comparing dick sizes be considered smut? I can see it being rated M. Are you suggesting the rating go up to E?

--

Ahahaha.

Uh... anon... if that's truly what you were trying to ask... I think maybe you need to work on your writing a bit more. The vibes you give off are odd, to say the least...

Like, creepy pervert angling for foot fetish photos while lying about what they want-level weird.

It sounds like you want to heavy-breathe while reading guys' descriptions of their own penises, not like you want help with writing.

--

The reason your ask reads so "She breasted boobily down the stairs" but from the other side is that guys, at least from what I've seen, do not stand around comparing their dicks, at least not in the way you implied.

The people who most commonly compare their junk out of curiosity are toddlers.

This is something tiny children do. Anecdotally, some teens do it, but a lot don't, and there are clickbait articles about athletes sizing each other up this way, but they are just that: clickbait. I'm not saying it never happens, but you wrote about it like it always happens.

It is fucking weird to have a grown-ass man routinely doing it outside of maaaaybe some weirdly homoerotic scene in a stoner comedy or something.

People joke about this practice because it's a thing that exists, not because it is ubiquitous.

That's also why it reads like porn. IRL, if some dude is like "I think we should compare our dicks... uh... and they should be hard so we can compare properly", many other guys are going to interpret that as sexual. And also self-deluding. Which is a good reason to say no.

--

Most people in locker rooms and public bathrooms try to give each other a little privacy if they can, regardless of gender. Openly ogling is what you do if you're about to proposition someone for sex. Or, if it's hostile, you stare because you're about to beat them up.

I'm not saying a guy couldn't sneakily see the size of another guy's junk and have a response, but the whole way you described this sounds like you've never spoken to a human before. Did you seriously get this idea from those clickbait articles?

Among other issues, penises become erect. They look different in different states of arousal. Surely, you've heard of "growers vs. showers"? Temperature also matters. There's a whole fucking bit on Seinfeld that everyone quoted for like years and is probably still quoting about "shrinkage"—i.e. a guy is insecure that someone saw him when he'd just gotten out of the pool and his dick looked small because he was cold. Hopefully, the locker room isn't that cold, but you still don't know what a dude's dick looks like all of the time from catching a glimpse of it one time.

So an adult man who is not completely unfamiliar with penises is not going to 1. openly stare at another man in the locker room and 2. look only at his penis and have some crisis about "Mine looks different".

I suppose for the right character in the right circumstances, you can sell any kind of goofy-ass reaction, including the "breasted boobily" stuff where women think consciously about their tits in a way that actual women generally don't and male authors love to write. But you have to make it a whole Thing. She has to have some reason why her nipples are super sensitive today and thus she pays attention when she normally wouldn't.

Instead, you keep asking these dumbass questions like you're 12 that boil down to "Literally all men are the same cardboard cutout based on their D&D stats from this character sheet. Please tell me some facts about these stats!" instead of approaching people as individual humans who all react differently. You haven't even said anything about what kind of culture these characters come from. Both personality and specific culture (not just big things like nationality but shit like whether they're athletes who change with the same guys all the time) are going to affect how and whether men talk about self esteem and bodies.

You're boiling this down to "What does the penis-having alien species all do?" despite already getting several answers that told you to stop doing that. You either didn't listen or didn't understand what people meant so badly that it's pointless to keep giving you help.

This is not a good way to write three-dimensional characters.

--

Now, I'm not saying nobody has ever snuck a peek in a locker room. Lots of people, regardless of gender, do that. But we're talking covert looks and that kind of looking gives you glimpses of many body parts and not always a very clear look either.

Most actual men on most actual days of their lives are going to feel insecure about their bodies relative to someone else because the other dude looks better at the gym or grows chest and facial hair more easily or is much taller or isn't going bald.

We love to make jokes about penis size, but in my experience, the level of perpetual crisis dudes have over potential baldness is way higher. There are a shitton of ways to be insecure about yourself and your body. That goes for any gender.

Maybe a dude feels insecure because the other guy is much less body-conscious and has an easier time changing in front of people or because he's paid five times as much and is changing into a thousand dollar suit.

Many of the markers of masculinity and attractiveness have very little to do with penises.

There's also a vast difference between your POV character thinking some other dude's huge package is admirable and your POV character thinking he himself is inadequate. He could think his own dick is average and that it would be nicer to be hung like a pornstar without being insecure about it. He could also have a big dick yet still be insecure about it because he's a weirdo who's obsessed with penis size. He could be a size queen who wants to take a ride on that. He could have an ex girlfriend who thought big penises hurt and be creepily fascinated and wonder whom this guy fucks and how they manage.

--

All this shit is a character point. Stop treating it as immutable truth where someone can give you the Correct Answer™ for you to slot into your writing or spank bank fantasies.

[suzukiblu]

Heyyyyy, who wants the expanded excerpt of that one WIP of mine with transfemme!Kon, two glorious and terrible Amazons, and familial soulmates that's behind this here read-more?? (( tw: internalized misgendering, unintentional misgendering ))

Kon just saved Lex Luthor's life, so that's kind of weird and unfortunate. Like, he's perfectly aware that Kal would've wanted him to do that and would've done it himself if he hadn't been too busy bashing on the robot minions of the latest morally dubious AI to need dropkicked out of Metropolis, but also now the whole stupid world is gonna know he's the kind of dumbass who wastes time saving Lex Luthor. 

Specifically, wastes time saving Lex Luthor in the middle of a situation that has at least an eighty-five percent chance of being Lex Luthor's own goddamn fault, just to really rub it in.  

Look, somebody had to have programmed that morally dubious AI. 

Kon can't even enjoy the fact that Luthor's currently knocked out on the ground and both of the dude's super-hot and allegedly Amazonian bodyguards are on top of him. And considering that the one's all buttoned up in a sexy chauffeur uniform with semi-sheer stockings and the other's wearing a black minidress and strappy gold stilettos under a trenchcoat, and that they're both at least six feet tall and built like, again, actual Amazons, that is a lot to not be enjoying. 

. . . although actually, he can't help but notice, they're weirdly not his type despite the fact that they're both absolutely gorgeous and also the fact that he pretty much just described the stars of at least the last three pornos he watched. 

Very weird, Kon thinks, then attempts to get out from underneath said porn star bodyguards. The chauffeur-looking one–Mercy, he thinks her name is–cuffs him upside the head, then pulls out a gun that he cannot even imagine where she was hiding and takes aim at the nearest robot. 

"Quit wriggling, brat, you'll throw off my aim," she orders, and then starts firing. 

"Aren't you supposed to be a fucking Amazon?" Kon demands incredulously. Since when the fuck do Amazons use guns? Since when is that a thing? 

"I am also not too stupid to see the benefits of high-velocity rounds," Mercy replies dryly without missing a shot. Every robot she hits immediately explodes. There is literally no reason a normal handgun should be causing that reaction, so Kon's just gonna assume that's not actually a normal handgun. 

"Always with the high-velocity rounds," the other bodyguard–Hope, Kon's pretty sure?–snorts as she strips off her trenchcoat and reveals a truly improbable amount of absolutely flawless muscle packed into that skintight minidress that Kon, again, finds bizarrely just . . . not hot, somehow? And neither is Mercy's narrow-eyed look of concentration or the fact that they're both still on top of him. 

Maybe he's coming down with something. 

Admittedly, he's pretty sure they're only on top of him to keep him pinned down to be a useful meat-shield for their currently unconscious boss's much less invulnerable body, but Kon has found people who were repeatedly bashing him in the face with an I-beam or just straight-up about to murder him hot, so . . . yeah, definitely coming down with something. There's really no other explanation. 

"Hmmm," Mercy says, eyeing the swarming robots that are very aggressively beelining for their position. Like, these robots are way too interested in their position for this whole stupid situation to not in some way be Luthor's fault, in Kon's opinion. "We need to clear some space." 

"Then you should've packed a bigger gun," Hope says dubiously, dropping her trenchcoat on Kon's head. 

"Fuck's sake," Kon mutters, then flattens his hands against the pavement, grabs every robot he can reach at once with his TTK, and rips them all to pieces in one burst. 

It's not easy, but he at least nails a pretty respectable amount of them, so he's got that much. And also, like, about a hundred-yard radius without anything that's trying to murder them in it. So that's nice. 

". . . huh," Hope says, tilting her head. 

"You're welcome," Kon snipes. "Can I get up now?" 

"No," Hope says as a fresh wave of robots rushes them. "Do it again." 

"Whatever," Kon mutters, but he does. He's got better shit to do right now than argue with alleged Amazons of unexplained origins. Taking out as many damn robots as possible, specifically. 

"That's convenient," Hope observes, inexplicably dropping a hand onto the back of Kon's neck and squeezing . . . approvingly, actually? "Good job, kid." 

And that, bafflingly, still doesn't do anything to his dick. 

Okay, so he's probably actively dying of radiation poisoning from, like, some kind of new stealth kryptonite that Luthor has in his pocket or whatever. Luthor would absolutely be the asshole to have stealth kryptonite in his pocket right now, ungrateful prick that he is. 

Kon really doesn't have time to be worrying about that right now, though, so he just grabs another group of robots with his TTK and does what comes naturally as Mercy keeps firing at the ones in the air overhead and Hope keeps her hand on the back of his neck. It . . . still isn't doing anything to him? 

Except it sort of is, just . . . not in a way that makes sense. 

Kon really doesn't have time for this. 

Mercy reloads her handgun. Hope squeezes the back of Kon's neck again. Rubs the pad of her thumb across his pulse, the gesture more absentminded than anything else. 

Kon feels weird. 

Then he rips apart every single fucking robot left on the ground. 

Which is . . . a lot of robots. 

Like. Way, way more robots than he actually should've been able to get a grip on. Or even reach. 

"Uh," Kon says, blinking stupidly. 

"Damn convenient," Hope says, then gives his neck a neat little pat of appreciation before dropping her hand away. Kon does not examine the part of himself that misses it, mostly because said part has literally nothing to do with his libido and he just can't make that fact make sense. "Mr. Luthor? You with us?" 

"Not at the moment, no," Luthor mutters from the pavement, pushing himself up carefully and dusting his suit off with a mildly annoyed expression, like they're not currently in the middle of a half-destroyed city block while innumerable robot minions and Kal and Kara are all throwing down in the sky overhead. "Hn. Is there a reason the two of you are perched on one of Superman's pet teenagers? The more annoying one, even?" 

"Convenient bullet-catcher," Mercy replies dismissively, shooting down a couple more of the aerial robots. 

"Also surprisingly obedient," Hope muses. 

"Asshole, I literally just saved your life and fucked up half an army of shitty robots to keep it saved, and as for you two, I did your fucking jobs for you, and all three of you are all gonna be shitheads to me about it?" Kon demands in exasperation. "Seriously?" 

"Seems like a reasonable source of entertainment for the afternoon," Luthor says, idly watching Mercy shoot down a few more of the airborne robots. "Given that Superman's being inconsiderately dull and not getting himself punched nearly hard enough." 

"Let me the fuck up already," Kon says flatly. 

"Oh, that hit was a slight improvement," Luthor says musingly as he gets to his own feet and finishes dusting himself off, clearly far more interested in watching Kal get knocked around by the aerial robots than anything else. Kon flips him off on principle. Mercy pistol-whips him for it. It doesn't really hurt, which bemuses him enough to lay off the rude hand gestures. She's an Amazon, probably. Almost definitely. Either way, she definitely could've made that actually hurt. 

So that's weird. 

Actually a lot of weird has been happening in this whole stupid interaction, really, which is what Kon gets for saving fucking Lex Luthor's life. 

Something explodes really loudly in the distance, which is probably the command center that Steel was supposed to be dealing with because all the remaining robots jerk violently and then drop out of the sky like rocks all at once and crash into the ground. Which–thank fuck. 

"Hm," Mercy says, holstering her gun as she glances around the smashed-up street and finally gets off Kon. "We might actually make your three o'clock, Mr. Luthor." 

"Unfortunate, given that I'm fairly certain my three o'clock is good ol' Brucie Wayne," Luthor says dryly. Hope gets up too and, absolutely inexplicably, offers Kon a hand up. He's so fucking bemused that he actually takes it, and she pulls him to his feet. "That man is absolutely unbearable." 

"Mmm, I don't know, Hope and I usually find Mr. Wayne good for a bit of afternoon delight," Mercy drawls, sounding amused. 

"Ew," Kon mutters reflexively as he lets go of Hope's hand and makes a face. Then he wonders what the fuck kind of kryptonite that stealth kryptonite is, because picturing two dangerous and gorgeous Amazons making a sandwich out of a slutty Gothamite playboy shouldn't be making him say "ew". Like, that is very literally the last thing that should ever be making him say "ew". Ever. 

Seriously, what the fuck. 

Luthor looks back over at them. 

And then he frowns. 

"Hope," he says. "Mercy." 

"Yes, sir?" Hope asks. 

"What the hell are those?" Luthor says. 

Hope and Mercy frown too. Then they look at each other. Look each other over. And . . . pause. 

"Oh," Hope says. 

"What the fuck," Mercy says. 

Kon has no idea what they're all frowning about, but whatever. An annoyed supervillain and his annoyed bodyguards are not his also-annoyed problem, at least not as long as they're not actively trying to murder Kal or blow up Metropolis or whatever. He's just gonna go make sure everybody he actually gives a shit about is okay, and then get back to–

Hope and Mercy's frowns deepen, and then they both flick their eyes towards him. 

"Bullshit," Mercy says, her eyes narrowing. 

"What, do you think it was one of the drones?" Hope asks dubiously, raising an eyebrow. 

"He's a damn man," Mercy says accusingly. "Worse, a damn boy!" 

"Excuse you?" Kon says, bristling reflexively. He's technically eighteen, okay? Or at least the rough equivalent of eighteen, whatever. 

"I will say, not quite what I pictured for either of your types," Luthor says, looking Kon over with an unimpressed expression. 

Oh, gross. 

"Annnnnd I'm out," Kon says firmly as he lifts off the ground, because Lex Luthor just checked him out and he needs to go gag now. And like, scrub the entire memory from his brain. 

Hope grabs his shoulder and shoves him back down onto his feet. 

"You're our soulmate, kid," she says matter-of-factly. Kon . . . blinks. 

"The fuck?" he says, and Hope points down at herself. He looks. There's a soulmark wrapped halfway around her right thigh, which is . . . weird, actually, because he doesn't remember her having a soulmark there earlier, especially not such a big and flashy one, and . . . 

What the fuck, Kon thinks. He looks over at Mercy and sees the exact same soulmark showing through her stockings in the exact same place on her own thigh. He doesn't remember seeing it there before either. 

It's . . . well, it's a soulmark, he guesses. It's gold–like, several different shades of gold, but all of them metallic and gleaming. He can see the shine of the mark even through Mercy's stockings. It looks like a mosaic of a stylized sun, all intricate rays and bright circles and interlocking shapes, and it takes up a hell of a lot of real estate, going all the way from just above their knees to who knows how high up under their skirts. It's . . . well, it's pretty. 

Actually, it's beautiful, and Kon kind of wants to touch it. To touch both of them, more specifically, ideally at the same time. 

And still not in the pervy way. 

So that's a bad sign, definitely. 

"Take your pants off," Mercy orders impatiently. 

"How about 'hell no'?" Kon says, because yeah he has literally no sense of shame or self-consciousness but Luthor was just eyeballing him like a weirdo and he very much does still want to go make sure nobody he gives a shit about got fucked up by a morally dubious robot or anything. And like–okay, fine, apparently he has soulmates and apparently those soulmates are both drop-dead gorgeous Amazons, but like . . . he doesn't actually give a fuck right now, and also they both work for Lex Luthor, so that kinda doesn't bode well for any kind of long-term relationship or whatever anyway? Like, this is very much about to be another Knockout scenario. Knockout in stereo, even. 

Ugh.

"I said take your pants off," Mercy repeats in annoyance. 

"Again, hell no," Kon tells her. 

Mercy grabs for his belts. Kon dodges her. 

"Hey!" he says. Mercy glowers at him. Hope folds her arms. 

"It's obviously him, Mercy," she says with a sigh. "We haven't touched anyone else but each other and Lex in at least an hour, and any of us would've triggered a mark long before now." 

"He's a child," Mercy bites off. 

"I'm eighteen, kind of!" Kon protests indignantly. If he had to forcibly lose sixteen-odd years of his natural lifespan, at least people could fucking acknowledge him as a fucking adult. Like, is that too much to ask?

"You're two," Luthor says dryly. "'Kind of'." 

"Oh, fuck you," Kon snaps, scowling at him and also not sure how he feels about the fact that the fucking weirdo actually knows how old he is. Like, why the fuck does he know that? 

"A literal child," Mercy says witheringly. "A literal child is our literal soulmate. In a V-shaped triad, of all things!" 

Honestly, if somebody'd told Kon half an hour ago that he had two soulmates and said soulmates were a pair of smoking hot older women dressed like professional escorts who could both kick his ass due to being unconfirmed Amazons, and he was the focal point of their V-shaped triad? He would have very literally needed to go have a lie-down until he recovered enough to get some bloodflow back to his brain. And it would've had to be a very, very long lie-down. 

Right now, though, it's just like . . . a thing, he guesses. A very weird thing that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, as far as he's concerned. 

"Well, he'll mature," Hope says resignedly. "Theoretically." 

"Oh, that's a turn-on," Mercy snorts. 

"Look, whatever, I'm not into you two either but I'm not being a prick about it, am I?" Kon says in exasperation, folding his arms. 

The other three all pause. Then they all turn their heads to look at him. 

"You're not?" Luthor says, sounding mystified. "What, neither of them?" 

"Not that it's any of your damn business, but no," Kon says, wondering what his life has come to that he's actually answering the asshole supervillain right now. 

". . . you know, you could just come out to Superman, it's not actually necessary to so aggressively pretend to be straight," Luthor says dryly, raising an eyebrow at him. Kon, again, wonders how and why this weirdo knows anything about him, much less enough to have an opinion about his sexual orientation and the way he expresses it. "I mean, you'll have to put up with him 'validating your identity' every five minutes, I'm sure, but he isn't going to disown you or whatever nonsense you're expecting." 

"I'm bi, asshole, and I am out to Superman," Kon says in exasperation. Who, admittedly, did kind of spend a couple months validating his identity every five minutes after he came out to him, but that's neither here nor there. "It's possible to just not be into someone." 

"But you're not into either of them," Luthor says, eyes narrowing in consideration. "And they're your soulmates." 

". . . oh gods," Mercy says in horrified realization, putting her hands over her face and staring at Kon through her splayed fingers. "Hope. Hope, are we fucking parents?!" 

". . . huh," Hope says, tilting her head. 

Kon blinks at both of them. Then stares at both of them. 

"Are you high?" he says incredulously. "There is literally no damn way!" 

"Really? Because it'd be one thing if you weren't sexually attractive to either of them yet," Luthor says, still eyeing him assessingly. "You're barely past jailbait, physiologically speaking, and that's frankly being generous. But neither of them is sexually attractive to you?" 

"It's possible to just not be into someone!" Kon protests again. "That doesn't mean they're my moms, for fuck's sake! It could just be, I don't know, platonic or something! Or a sibling bond!" 

Not that those options aren't just as weird and doomed as a romantic bond would be, obviously, but at least they'd make more sense than a parental one would. 

"Amazons only get sister bonds, brat," Mercy says dubiously, which Kon guesses makes sense but also makes him feel a little–never mind. Never mind how it makes him feel. 

He doesn't like how it makes him feel, though. For reasons that he's just . . . not ever gonna examine. 

Ever. 

"Yeah, well, last I heard nobody ever proved you two were real Amazons anyway," he snaps back defensively, clenching his fists at his sides. 

"It's adorable that you think we care what anyone else thinks," Mercy snorts, rolling her eyes. 

Kon very literally cannot imagine just not caring what anyone else thinks to that degree. Like–not ever. 

Must be nice, though.

#kon el #conner kent #superboy #hope taya #mercy graves #lex luthor #rinfic #wip: amazon kon #internalized misgendering #unintentional misgendering

[mwebber]

I think the biggest reason why martian appeals to me over other f1 rivalries is that mark never won a wdc. He came sososo close in 2010 but ultimately was beaten by sebastian. Brocedes, prosenna, makkinen, etc, both parties have ensured that they will go down in history. Both have achievements outside of the other. However, mark is doomed to be forgotton by history and forgotten by everyone. That is, everyone except seb. Mark's career is only defined by seb's, but it isn't the same the other way round. They're obsessed with each other and you have made me obsessed with them. Diagnosed with martian brainrot and i'm afraid it's terminal <3 sorry for the long rant

so much to unpack here... like yeah no i'm with u, it's the whole humanizing factor of "almost" with mark that first made me overcome my initial squick. christ, even just sympathizing, it's a gut-wrenching loss. and immediately it's like, how did he cope, what did he do, etc, and i won't lie and say i haven't contributed to this, but it's really just grief porn, isn't it? bleakly realistic or exaggeratedly unrealistic depending on whose take it is, but grief porn nonetheless. who's the real mark webber?

i get what you're saying, but honestly, i'd contest it. mark isn't doomed to be forgotten by history; he's there in the history books as one of australia's best, and also he's literally a world champion in endurance racing. just because he never got that f1 championship doesn't mean he didn't succeed or find fame in other areas. i think there's this idea that he was shit as an f1 driver and his only thing is getting mopped by seb, but when you look at even just the stats, mark still beats out ricciardo. MARK WEBBER is the third-best driver red bull racing has ever had, third only to seb and max.

plus, like, he's literally fine with everything. he doesn't see himself as a victim or a tragic character, the man is just. living his best life! travelling the world! meeting cool people! girlblogging on instagram! not saying this is necessarily you, but i think when one gets deep in the fandom, it's really easy to latch onto the idea of these people and the fleeting snapshots of their stories that are captured in media, and miss the person themselves.

and i'd also argue that seb's career IS defined by mark. i know multi-21 feels commonplace on tumblr dot com, but when the masses of fans think of vettel, they think of malaysia 2013. they think of red bull and 4 championships in a row. sure, haters focus on the tail end of his ferrari career or how godawful aston martin's car was, and haters often have loud voices, but oh my goodness. seb's racing legacy is so deeply entwined with mark's. i think it's reductive to wave that off for the sake of the narrative comparison.

i love that you're just getting into martian, and i love the renaissance that's happening where people are finding their footholds with the ship and exploring the two of them, because there are a great many treasures to find! just be wary of falling into the larger fanon, i guess is what i'm trying to say. this ship has had over a decade to marinate and both seb and mark have had their identities and stories boxed into one-liners like the ones you've described. what else is there? that's where the gold is.

#inbox

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

alice, on a wednesday

a woman dropped alice off at annie's office, a woman that annie clocked as alice's bestie angel. they were communicating in sign language -- annie had noticed sometimes that when alice was speaking freely she would sign along -- annie had always observed her easily facility with language as a sign of alice's intelligence. she believed her to be a genius.

annie was aware that angel struggled with substance use, but to annie's eye she looked like a well-put-together 30something mom. maybe alice had exaggerated. one blind spot alice had, that annie took her to task for often, was a lack of sensitivity about addiction. alice herself was sober -- had been for over a decade, annie was fairly sure. she was intensely critical of angel and of her mother for their drug use.

when alice came into annie's office, it was her mother on her mind again. her father had called alice the previous night for guidance because her mother was, as alice described it, "in a coked-out frenzy." she told annie that she didn't believe it was fair for a great guy like her father to be saddled with a woman like her mother.

"i don't know," annie said. "your mother sounds like a pretty vibrant and warm woman."

"with absolutely no self control," alice countered.

"some guys like that," annie said. "most guys."

alice laughed. "i know. and i do know they love each other."

"how do you know?" annie asked, genuinely curious.

alice told her that when she was 15, she'd found a VHS recording of her parents having sex and she'd watched it. annie immediately thought of her own parents and tried to imagine such a thing. alice explained that she'd watched the entire thing in part because other than photos in porn magazines that boys showed her, she'd yet to actually see sexual intercourse happening. "i kind of love that about my own history," alice mused. "i very literally learned to fuck from watching my parents. and i still use a few of her moves."

"like what?" annie asked.

alice giggled. "just before putting my father's cock inside herself, she sort of holds it up against her stomach as she straddles him, like, showing him how deep inside her he will go."

"yeah, that's a good move if the guy is, you know..."

"hung like a horse?" alice said.

"is your dad...?"

"oh yeah," alice said. "genuinely, biggest dick i've ever seen."

"wow," annie said.

"no wonder i mostly fuck women, right?" alice said, "who could compare?"

having seen angel now, annie briefly imagined her and alice fucking -- they'd briefly been engaged before angel got married and had children. they were still very sexually active.

alice explained that watching the end of the sex tape, where her father cums on her mom's mouth and tits and then films her cleaning up in the shower, was one of the most romantic things she'd ever seen. "i really understood romantic love at that point. and i thought about how rare it is. my parents are from different countries, you know? what crazy luck that they found each other. i don't think there's a lot of hope for the rest of us."

"i don't know," annie said. "i'm still a romantic."

"you're still young," alice said. "how's ryan?"

"okay," annie said.

"you fucking more?"

"yeah," annie said. "i am also trying to sext him more? like, i send nudes but they're pretty casual. i'm trying to figure out how to... do more."

"have him take pictures of you first," alice suggested. "they you'll see how he sees you and you can frame yourself the same ways."

"that's a great idea," annie said. "what happened to the sex tape of your parents?"

"I kept it. It turns out he had lots of them," alice said. "still does, I mean, I see his phone. every time he shows me pictures of like, a trip they took, he scrolls past videos of her sucking his cock and touching herself and videos he made of himself jerking off."

"Good for them," Annie said.

"He's even filmed me," Alice said.

"Uh, how?" Annie asked.

"We were in France. We were on a clothing optional beach and he dared me to go skinny dipping, so I did, and he filmed me taking off my bathing suit and splashing around in the water naked."

"Did you like that?" Annie asked.

"Yeah," she said. "I like, I don't know, being perceived by him in that way. I think I look good naked."

Annie told Alice about her dad and the iPad.

"That's so cute," alice said. "Also I love that you have a bush? Very classy."

Annie blushed. "You know, just a little one. I tend to shave in the summer."

"I shave all year round," Alice said. She winked at Annie. Annie giggled.

"Do you want to show me the nudes you send your boyfriend?" Alice said, tentatively but firmly.

"Yes," Annie said.

"Is that crossing a patient/therapist line?"

"You're an artist," Annie said. "It's different."

"I agree," Alice said. "I'm all for special treatment."

Annie opened her phone and nervously scrolled to a photo she'd sent Ryan a few weeks ago of herself in just a pair of panties at home.

"Cute tits!" Alice chirped. "God, I wish I had those tits. I think this is a cute picture but it reads as silly rather than horny. Like I don't believe that you're begging to get fucked.

"When I'm begging to get fucked I think I do that in text. I told him to come over and fuck me in the ass a few nights ago."

"Good girl," Alice said. She handed Annie her phone. It was a picture of Alice sitting nude against a wall, legs open. Annie gawked at Alice's tiny, perky tits and her smooth cunt.

"You are gorgeous," Annie cooed. And I get it. That's horny."

"Yeah, you better believe I got fucked after I sent that."

"How is this one?" Annie asked. She showed her a bottomless photo she'd sent Ryan from his bed.

"This has fuck energy," Alice said. "I love it. And I love the bush, as expected."

"Well," Annie said. "Our hour is up, and now we have seen each other's pussies."

"All we need is to see each other's dad's cocks and then we'll really be able to get some therapy done," Alice said.

[carolinaboy34]

First

By the time I got to college, my virginity was literally crippling me. All through high school, I wondered about my sexuality and what I liked and didn’t. I had a good idea that I may be gay, based on my porn searches and reading, but sometimes a girl would catch my fancy and make me wonder. I had made out with a few girls in high school, but it never went past the light petting stage, and I never made out with a boy. There just weren’t that many opportunities in the small town I grew up in.

When I got to college, away from home, dad, and the watchful eye of everyone in my hometown, I just had to find out what it was all about. Being the analytical, scientific person I am, I went about devising a plan to figure out my sexuality. I know I was being a little silly, but I didn’t want to close a door that may be a fun adventure or deprive me of a great experience.

My first step was purely by accident. I met a girl during orientation, before classes even started. Her name was Beth, and she was a cute redhead with freckles and long, curly hair. She was so sweet and fun, we hit it off right away. She had an odd sense of humor that suited me well and was sarcastic enough to keep everyone entertained. We started to spend a lot of time together, eating meals at the same time, walking to classes and even spending evenings together in our rooms. We made out a lot. She was a great kisser. One night she grabbed my hard dick while we were laying in my bed kissing and started rubbing it through my sweatpants. I decided to grab a boob, so we started playing with each other. She eventually leaned down and pulled my dick out, licking it tentatively while she held it like an armed bomb. I was rubbing her back and laying there, enjoying the first time someone else ever touched me. It didn’t take long for me to cum, which I warned her about and she let blast all over my shirt. She just dropped me afterwards and came back to make out more. I could taste myself on her lips, which tasted really good (I’d never even tasted mine before). She left soon after, but we kept hanging out and making out when we could.

One night, I was at her place and we were making out while watching a movie, kind of. We’d both gotten naked and were touching and exploring each other. She knew I was a virgin, but she’d had sex before. She gave me a blow job for a few minutes then reached into her nightstand and got a condom. I watched her, wide eyed and nervous, while she opened the wrapper and put it on me. She pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me, pointed my dick up and sat down on me. I went in really easy, and it was so warm and soft, it felt like masturbating with a fluffy, wet glove. She started moving about on my lap and reached down to grab my hands to put on her boobs. It felt ok. She seemed to be having a great time, and she started squealing and breathing heavily, but nothing happened with me. After she came, she kept me inside and laid down on top of me, pressing her boobs into my chest and making out with me. She came off me and took the condom off then jacked me off to orgasm on my chest and belly.

We had sex a few more times. She seemed to cum everytime, and I eventually came while we fucked, but it left me convinced there was something else out there. We eventually grew apart and stopped dating, but after I came out to her, we became great friends. She brags that she’s responsible for driving me into the arms of a man.

Step one down. I knew I wasn’t 100% straight. It was fun, but it certainly didn’t get me going. A girl's body is wasted on me. So, I figured that I needed to try a dude. Easiest way to do that is with an app, so I downloaded a couple of them and made a profile that was, looking back, pretty general. Just had a face pic and described myself as a college student, looking to meet someone, yada, yada, yada. I got lots of replies, a lot were way older than me looking for a ‘boy’, and I avoided that. I matched with a cute kid named Ethan who lived in my dorm, so we agreed to meet up at the student union for coffee one evening. He was very cute, a freshman like me, finding himself like me, but not a virgin to gay sex. He was very much a bottom. We went back to his place and started making out, got naked and were wrestling around in his bed. We turned into a ‘69’ and started sucking each other. Fucking fireworks blasting in my brain! The smells and textures and tastes bombarding my senses overwhelmed me. My first dick inside my body and I was hooked. He didn’t want to cum that way so asked if I’d fuck him.

“Fuck, yes!”

I asked him for a condom, but he told me he didn’t like them. He was taking meds and was clean, so he was fine without one. I didn’t want to stop sucking him, so I went back for more and was enjoying every second until he literally pulled me off and begged me to fuck him before he came. He got on his back and pulled his legs back to his chest, presenting his ass to me. I pointed my dick at his hole and started to push, but he quickly reminded me we needed lube, which he handed to me. I squirted some on my hand then slathered it all over my dick and spread some on his hole, which felt so cool to touch and rub! I played with his hole some, watching it pulse and flex, studying the hairless skin surrounding it, and slowly and carefully inserting a finger inside. It was so warm and tight! He gasped and moaned, then wiggled his butt on my finger. I pulled my finger out then pointed my dick back at his hole and pushed in until I popped past the ring. Oh my god! The heat and tightness of his hole was intense and soooo much better than a woman's softness. He grabbed my hips and pulled me in until I was all the way and my balls were resting against his ass. I could feel his body contracting around my dick - it was amazing. I reached down and started to jack him while I pulled out slowly before going back in. I kept going in and out slowly, somewhat uncoordinated. I was worried about hurting him. I shouldn’t have been.

“Drew, you can fuck me hard. I like it that way!”

“You sure it doesn’t hurt?”

“Fuck no. You feel amazing!”

He wrapped his legs around my waist and started pulling me in, almost spurring me into fucking him harder. I tried to match his movements and started going faster and faster, harder and harder, until I was slamming into him. He was moaning loudly with each thrust, my body smacking into him each time I bottomed out inside. His hole never relaxed but stayed tight and so warm on my dick, the sensations of his muscles in his ass as they massaged my dick each time I entered him blew me away. I knew this was what I wanted. I couldn’t hold it much longer and started jacking him faster, matching my thrusts, until I pushed in one last time and held still until I started blowing my load deep inside his hole. That pushed him over, and he blasted his chest with his cum, squirting eight or nine shots up onto his body.

I collapsed on top of him, feeling his cum spread between us, and hugged him tightly as I tried to regain my breath. His hole contracted and pushed out my softening dick, along with a healthy portion of my cum. We stayed in bed for a while longer, talking and laughing and reliving our tryst. Ethan was great and we still get together, when I feel like topping, but neither of us were interested in dating.

Step two down. I certainly liked having sex with a guy better than a girl. Way better. It was more fun. More athletic. More interesting things to do and play with. Ethan and I talked a lot about bottoming, because I was really curious. He told me how amazing it was and how much his body just loved the role. He described how he loves to play the submissive part and be dominated by a strong top. I hadn't figured out my roles yet, but it sounded amazing to hear him talk about it.

Step three was finding a top and trying out bottoming. Ethan was like my Sherpa guiding me up the mountain of bottoming. He taught me how to clean in preparation for sex. He shaved my butthole for me. We talked about positions and ways to work your muscles. It’s way more than just laying there and getting fucked! He introduced me to playing with toys and even bought me my first dildo. He took me to the clinic on campus and got a prescription for preventative meds. He was amazing. And he was turning me into a submissive bottom very quickly.

He had a couple friends that he thought would be great for my first time, and we made plans to meet up one evening for coffee to see how things went. The date was a couple of days away, and I was nervous as hell. This was a big summit to crest for me. I had built it up in my head as such a big deal, it was starting to get a little overwhelming.

I’d gone out for a run after class the day before our coffee date to try to relax. It helped, but I was still nervous when I got home and grabbed my stuff to get a shower. When I got to the bathroom, I heard one of the showers running, but there were plenty of others, so I hung up my towel and was undressing when I reached for the hook to hang my shorts and knocked over my shower kit, sending soap and shampoo and other things, including a dildo I sometimes used in the shower, across the floor. “Fuck!” I said under my breath and started to gather my things. Just as I was bending over to get my stuff, naked, the shower that was in use shut off and the curtain opened. On my knees, I looked up and saw this incredibly hot guy from my floor, an upperclassman, looking down at me. And he was holding the dildo! “Double Fuck!!” I thought.

“Is this yours?” He asked with a smirk.

“Um, yeah. Sorry for that.” I grabbed it from him and stuffed it back in my kit.

I looked back up at him, and he was still standing there looking at me with a mix of amusement and annoyance on his face. Totally naked and dripping wet, I noticed his dick was starting to harden. His dirty blond hair was wet and curly, and his chest and abdomen were tight, with barely any body fat on him. What do I do? Seems like a good opportunity that would be a shame to pass up, right? I looked him in the eye, then looked down at his dick, then back up at his face. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t move, so I thought “Why the fuck not?” and kind of crawled closer to him. I was still on my knees now right at his feet, eye level with his dick that was definitely harder than before. I leaned in and my nose touched it before I opened my mouth to take it inside. He stepped back and lifted me by the armpits. “What the fuck? Not here dipshit! We could be expelled! Aww, come with me.”

I grabbed my stuff and wrapped my towel around my waist then ran after him. He was ahead of me by at least 10 feet and got to his room first, opened the door and went inside, leaving the door open and completely ignoring me. When I got inside, he was hanging his towel in the closet, so I shut the door and dropped mine to the floor. He went to the bed and wordlessly sat down with his feet on the floor, reclining back against the wall. His dick on full display and harder than before, it was about seven inches long and normal girth with a cut, round head that was bright red. I went to him and knelt between his legs, using my hands to steady myself on his thighs. I leaned forward until my lips made contact with his now fully hard cock. The shower had loosened his balls, which were hanging down low in his hairless sac between his legs, and he smelled of soap and some leftover teenage pheromones, which was incredibly intoxicating.

At first I just smelled and ran my nose from his balls up his shaft to the tip near his belly button. I couldn't get enough and rubbed my nose and lips along his dick, his taint, his pubes - whatever I could get. He remained motionless with his arms to his side, but his dick was hard as stone and flexing up off his abdomen with his heartbeat. I must be doing something right!

After sniffing for several moments, I extended my tongue and ran it up his length. He finally responded by taking in a sharp breath and moaning quietly. He reached up with a hand and grabbed some of my hair and started to direct my face where he wanted it. He hooked the base of his dick with his other thumb, raising it up. He brought my face to the tip then he pushed it between my lips and into my mouth. He slowly pushed my head down as he entered my mouth then my throat. I gagged when he went past my pharynx, and without pulling out, he told me to breathe through my nose and swallow between breaths. That worked, and I was able to take more of him until my nose bumped against his short pubes at the base of his dick. He pulled up and he left my throat, allowing me to take in a breath. He then lowered my head again, repeating this several times as he enjoyed going past my tight pharynx and feeling me swallow his dick head in my throat.

My dick was leaking precum down it’s length as it remained hard and untouched. I was afraid that if I touched it I wouldn’t be able to stop until I came. He continued to use my face as a warm fleshlight, and I was learning how to give good head. I was using my tongue as he traveled in and out, for which I was rewarded with extra moans. I reached up and gently grabbed his balls and massaged, causing him to thrust into my face and breath faster and louder.

This went on for several minutes and I was really enjoying giving this dude head. I loved the taste of him in my mouth, the texture and taste of his precum as it leaked out, the moans and gasps he made when I did something he liked, the control he had over me, really using me to give himself pleasure. It was a real rush. I even enjoyed the disregard he gave me. He never considered what I felt or if I was enjoying myself. This seemed to be all about him, which was an odd turn-on for me.

He eventually pulled me off him and looked at me for a moment. He pushed my head back then brought his foot up and pushed my shoulder until I tumbled back onto the floor. I was kind of shocked at the turn of events; I was really enjoying giving him a blow job, but this wasn’t about me, was it? He stood up and looked down at me for a moment then asked

“Have you ever been fucked?”

“Um, no, I haven’t.”

“Fuck me! Hi! I’m Scott. You want to keep using that dildo, or would you like me to show you what it’s like for real?”

“Yes, please show me!”

He dropped to his knees between my legs and grabbed me behind the knees, pushing them up toward my shoulders. My ass curled up and opened to him, and I could feel the cool air on my taint and hole, thankfully shaved smooth by Ethan just yesterday. Scott unceremoniously spit on my hole a couple of times then straightened up and used his dick to spread the saliva over my hole before zeroing in on my entrance and applying light pressure. He told me to grab my legs, so I did, and he spread my butt cheeks apart, stretching my hole open and clearing the way for his dick head to pierce my hole and begin to spread the muscle open. I was breathing fast and ragged, nervous at what was happening but seemingly powerless to stop it. I later knew that was not true and I could stop at any time, but in the moment I felt I was falling down a hole without a rope to grab on to. The feelings coming from my butt were a weird and wonderful mix of pain and pleasure. It hurt to stretch the muscles like that, but feeling him enter me for the first time was amazing and was like nothing I had ever felt before. The more he pushed, the more it hurt and the more I wanted him to keep going.

Once his head popped past my ring and was inside, it started knocking on my prostate, which fucking sent me round the bend. I couldn’t believe how good it felt! Just having that stimulated by something that wasn’t my finger or plastic was amazing, and I knew then that this is where I was supposed to be. He continued to push in slowly, and it felt like he was feeding a long hose inside me - he just kept going! He finally got all the way in and his pubic bone bumped my taint and my balls. I could feel his balls smash against my ass and his dick fully inserted flexing inside me. Oh wow! This was amazing. That little bump against my balls sent a jolt through my body and caused my hole to clamp around his dick. He noticed and bumped them again a couple of times, each one causing a similar jolt.

“Ah, you're a ball man!”

“Unf, huh?”

“You like your balls played with. Your body reacts to them being bumped.”

“Umfp. Ok. It feels amaaazing!”

He kept humping into me gently, each time going out and back in a little further, but he reached down and grabbed into my sac and held my balls in his hand. With each thrust, he would tighten his grip until he was squeezing them pretty hard. My dick had gotten harder, if that was possible, and I was moaning and writhing around as much as I could while impaled on his dick. I could feel my orgasm beginning to boil inside me and told him that, and he let go and didn’t touch me anymore. He came forward and put his hands on the floor by my shoulders then started to pump into me faster and a little harder. He hooked my legs onto his shoulders and let me move my arms, which immediately went around his neck to hold onto him. He was fucking me hard now, his balls bouncing off my ass with each thrust and his pubic bone banging my balls and taint each time it made contact.

I could feel everything he was doing, and it felt amazing. I could also almost feel separated from the whole experience, as if I was floating above, watching and feeling at the same time. It was weird and sort of trance-like. It was otherworldly and made it feel as if I could do this for a long time.

“Fuck, Drew. You were made for this! Your hole feels amazing around my dick, like it’s massaging it each time I go in. Are you doing that?”

“I don’t think so. It just feels so fucking good. I’m just trying to keep up!”

“You’re doing just fine!”

He then doubled his efforts and really made me feel it, each thrust sending shock waves through my body. I could feel tingles in my ass around his dick, and they seemed to grow stronger with each pound he gave me. They blossomed out around my ass and went down my legs to my toes and up my back to the base of my skull. The tingles circled my head then seemed to focus and shoot straight down to my dick, which exploded with my orgasm, spraying cum all over my torso, some even reaching my face!

The contractions and convulsions my body experienced must’ve gotten to Scott, because he started to grunt louder and more insistently. He then rose up in a plank and dropped his weight down on my upturned ass one last time and held me there, bent up on my shoulders. He seemed to freeze for a moment before shivering and convulsing on his own, sending his cum out his dick and deep inside my ass. I could feel each shot he made as it fired inside me, the warmth from his cum coating the inside of my colon.

Oh my god! That was the most intense thing I’ve ever experienced! Feeling his body as it reached climax and sent that to me was unbelievable. I felt like he was giving me an energy essence that fired up every nerve in my body. My whole body shivered again in what felt like a dry orgasm.

He rested on top of me for several moments, his breath and heart rate returning to normal. His face was buried in the crook of my neck, and he was nibbling on me there. He whispered how good that unexpectedly was and how we could do that again anytime. He slowly rose up on his hands then rested back on his heels, his dick still inside me.

“Ok. I’m going to pull away. Clamp down as soon as I pull out and hold my cum in as long as you can! Trust me, you’ll love it and thank me later!”

I contracted my ass around him as he pulled out, and only a little leaked out. I held tight while I stood and put the towel back around my waist. Cum was running down my chest and what leaked out was running down my leg, so I gathered my stuff, gave Scott a big kiss and thanked him, then went back to the shower to clean up. I kept holding my ass tight and retained his cum as long as I could. I made it back to my room and got dressed, then messaged Ethan to tell him the news. He was very happy for me but worried his friends would be disappointed that they missed the opportunity. I told him I hoped they still wanted to meet up. After this, I want to do that as much as possible! And Chris was right - feeling his load leak out of my ass the rest of the day kept me turned on and with a semi-hard dick that wouldn’t go down.

[hanasnx]

heyyy do you have any advice on how to write smut cause its sooo difficult for me *cries in virgin*

ur like one of my fav smutty writers and idk if you have any tips 😭

first off thank u very much i appreciate that :)

this isnt the first time ive been asked for writing tips so im gonna give a lot of info. youre bound to find something useful in this mess

im so sorry but one of my solutions to giving myself confidence in smut-writing was to literally fuck and fuck a lot

after losing my virginity it still wasnt enough experience tbh. so i gave myself room to explore my sexuality and was privileged enough to do it with a partner that encouraged that growth. that experience of fucking sure didnt hinder my smut-writing ability if you know what i mean ;0 but everything else about writing i learned from years of practice. ive been writing since i was in elementary school like id come home from fourth grade and read and write on quotev klsdjfsfj smut writing skills came later post puberty

when i tried writing smut as a virgin i genuinely couldn’t get past the build up. i was fantastic at writing the build up, it was the actual sex part that was hard bcos even tho i had done enough research (i read a lot of porn) it didn’t instill me with enough confidence that i could write it correctly, and so i never did. however! i sure wish i’d committed to it more, so let me see if i can write out some tips that would’ve helped me in the past

(this is just how i write smut, im by no means an expert)

my timeline

the way i write smut is pretty formulaic so i’ll break it down:

hook line ⟹ settings ⟹ build-up ⟹ foreplay ⟹ sex ⟹ ending

☥ hook line. maybe: a dialogue piece to kickstart; an ambiguous line that reels you in; an exciting action. i dont like starting my story with the name/pronouns of a character doing something boring. i.e. “you were getting ready for the day…” idk it’s not the worst thing in the world and we've all done it but just writing out what i try to avoid.

☥ build up is key to me. i have such a hard time reading and writing porn with no plot. i’ll do it sometimes if i like the writer enough, but i rarely write smut without the build up bcos i feel like that’s where the juice is. its whats fun and what you get to play around with bcos the actual sex part of the fic is pretty predictable.

focus on what’s said and unsaid in dialogue between characters. focus on the emotion each of them are feeling and how that emotion manifests into body language.

⟹ dirty talk is not for everyone, but god i love it. literally get nasty with it, this is your writing and we’re all just readin it. build anticipation using dirty talk, make filthy promises, make threats. make your characters talk about the nasty shit they wanna do to each other.

imagine someone you really wanna fuck, imagine the things youd do to them if you had the chance,,, write it into your characters.

☥ foreplay. goes hand in hand with dirty talk, its where the touching starts. decide how you want to play it. who gets oral, who gets fingered. both? one of them? neither and they just go straight to fucking?? i like foreplay, but if youre writing a “quickie” scenario then it may not be in the cards.

lets say it is in the cards tho. so some things to remember:

⟹ foreplay gets the dicks hard. when dicks get hard they leak pre-cum. balls have like no cushion and theyre soft and have little sacks in em that move around. the skin of this genital is often described as velvety bcos its soft. ive honestly never had sex with an uncircumcised penis so i have no idea if there’s a difference between how they feel.

foreplay makes the pussies loose and wet. the inside can be lumpy. it can be ridged or smooth. it can be all kinds of flesh colors like brown and pink.

without the foreplay (which can be verbal communication, or touching of the body or genitals) its a little painful for afabs bcos theyre too tight or too dry. and a flaccid dick is a little unpredictable to try to fit in.

⟹ afabs can have multiple orgasms, amabs are less lucky. afabs can cum and squirt multiple times, amabs can cum multiple times.

⟹ genitals get really sensitive after cumming though. so if you write someone finishing, write out how they might need some time before they finish again or start fucking, or that they get overstimulated getting touched still after they came and that sensitivity is a little uncomfortable.

⟹ the head of the penis is the most sensitive and that’s what makes it cum/orgasm. clits on pussies are the most sensitive and its what makes cum/orgasms happen. its very difficult if not impossible to achieve orgasm (if youve got a pussy) through penetration alone without clit stimulation

⟹ you can cum/squirt and not have an orgasm

☥ sex

⟹ changing positions can change angles and hit new pleasurable spots inside pussies.

⟹ probably write a couple different positions during the sex part, just to keep things fresh.

⟹ sprinkle in dirty talk to prolong the sex scene and to avoid sounding repetitive because if youre writing p in v it’s pretty standard to thrust over and over again until youre done. its a lot less glamorous when you spell it out like that, so you gotta add shit to make the sex scene more enjoyable to the reader whos not actively experience the sex.

☥ ending. i usually end the one shot after the fucking is done.

the smut tips

☥ think back to a time you were really turned on. from a show, from a book, something someone said to you, your own sex life, porn you really liked,,, take inspiration from it. use it and channel that own arousal within you.

if youve got a dirty fantasy and it gets you so hot and bothered thinking about it, write that.

if youve got a partner that fucks you crazy good and supplies you with inspo for dialogue or for settings or for scenarios, write that too. theres been a whole bunch on my blog that was inspired by my boyfriend. not everything, but enough to mention it.

also! another thing that people underestimate is the inspiration you take from other blogs. like mine for example, if you like my stuff take inspo from it. study my writing style and you’ll see all kinds of little tips in subtext id never be able to list for you. i do that with other blogs, i dont copy them but i definitely learn little things i like from them and incorporate it into my writing for a more cohesive story. if i take an idea though i ask for their permission & credit them.

☥ the most important tip i can give you is be as self indulgent as possible. youre wasting time worrying about other people. “will they like this? will people think im weird? what if they think im weird for writing this?” fuck that noise. warn accordingly, and go ham. your self indulgence is your best friend. it’ll guide you through all those dirty things you want to say or do to someone, let it take root and write what excites you. chances are you will find your people, and your fic will be set apart bcos it’s so specific to you that people will be drawn to that. and if theyre not? it ends up not being popular? it doesnt matter! because you had fun writing it right? fuck yea u did

☥ the types of words you use are so important. words that invoke a certain emotion or sexy feeling. its difficult to explain but i try my hardest to use “beautiful language” paired with dirty, disgusting, cacophonous language. marry them together so you can convey whether youre “love-making” or “fucking”. i dont like words that dont look or sound good in my head. like when you paint, you probably use colors you like looking at to create the entire picture on the canvas that’s beautiful. so pick out paints that are pleasing to the eyes. the bold ones and the soft ones.

examples of words i dont use cos i hate the way they sound and the way they look: “vagina” and “penis” LMAO

even “butt” isnt a word i like to use. i’ll almost always use “ass” or “backside”

⟹ the smut writer’s dictionary

☥ i keep comedy out of it for the most part, ive never really seem humor added positively into a smut that added to the experience. its usually physical humor stuff like the characters bumping heads or stubbing their toe or something its just cringy to me idk. if i add comedy (i am not good at writing comedy)i put it before the smut. and if you must have some sort of lightheartedness id keep it casual, light, and personal. like an inside joke or something tongue in cheek. you dont have to hide your deepest desires behind humor , you can be serious

☥ your pain tolerance is heightened so run with that. get spanked its fun

more important tips i love and stand by:

☥ call backs are important to me. it’s like if you have something in the future of your fic to be used, try to incorporate it in some small way in your establishing settings or build up. but it’s not as important to others as it is to me. an example would be in my one shot “talk huttese to me”, at the end anakin fucks reader on the tool table. at the very beginning of the fic, when i had reader taking in the surroundings of the “garage bay”, she scanned the drawer stack where she set his broth she brought him, and the tool table he’d later fuck her on. its kinda like,,, foreshadowing (i think?). you’re setting up your reader to be like “?? i wonder why the author thought it would be important to mention the tool table.. wonder if anakin fucks her on it later.” but even if your readers dont react that way, i still think it ties things together nicely

☥ try to write 15-20 mins uninterrupted. create a ritual. i use the bathroom, refill my water, grab a fun drink like sweet tea, put on a silent youtube video (like my ahsoka star wars lofi live i love so much), listen to a playlist of music (preferably music you havent heard before so it can fade into the background. maybe even cultivate a playlist for the vibe youre going for in your story, aids greatly in creating an atmosphere in your writing if youre translating the music in your ears), and turn your phones notifications off (ofc i leave on notifs for calls in case of emergencies, but i can answer my friends’ texts after my writing session). set a timer so you dont have to keep checking the time.

☥ don’t stop in the middle of your storytelling to check the thesaurus or dictionary. write out whatever word/phrase first came to mind and highlight it to come back to later to alter or replace it completely. you’re interrupted your creative flow and its difficult to come back to it when youre checking the thesaurus every five seconds. this hack was crucial to my ability to stay on task i promise you

☥ avoid sounding repetitive by using the same words close together. you’ll create a fuller story by adding to your vocabulary using the thesaurus.

☥ avoid listing actions, break them up with adverbs at the start of your sentences if you must, or description of things or the place your character is in, or explain the emotion your character is feeling or what that emotion is causing within your character. starting sentences over and over again with the character’s name or pronoun breaks up the flow for the reader.

☥ really try to finish your works in progress even if you think its bad, the challenge of it will help you practice and learn to overcome your own mind trying to hold you back

☥ if you dont like the direction your fic is going,,, and youre experiencing writer’s block:: cross out the most recent bit and take it in a new direction. “oh but indy!! i really have a certain goal in mind!!” great, find another way to get to it because youre blocking yourself from finishing this forcing yourself into a non entertaining corner. switch it up! challenge yourself. “but indy!! i really liked what i had for this scene!!” yea but youre blocked right? youre not writing anything else for this scene and you cant, right? if you like what you have for this scene (an action, a dialogue piece youre proud of, a plot twist) save it! use it for a different piece !

hope this helps you and others!

#indy shoots the shit #anon #indy overshares #thanks for the msg!! #writing tips #smut writing tips

[representative-democracy]

saw your tags about getting into terror fic again and was wondering if you have any recs <3

Great question! I feel like The Terror has higher than average quality fanfic so this is a toughy, so this list is in no particular order and non conclusive!! And get ready for a lot of Bridglar :P

I also have a TON more, especially of less popular pairings, so lmk if you want more recs

For The Glory of a Good Pudding by soft_october

Fitzier, modern AU, and answers the important question: what would happen if The Cold Boys were competing in the Great British Bake Off?

any world (that i’m welcome to) by attheborder

Fitzier, modern AU, JFJ was frozen in the ice and is defrosted just time time to meet grumpy professor Crozier

Upon Great Persuasion by anactoriatalksback

McStanley, modern AU, this will get you shipping the doctors

Read from a Treasured Volume by Acephalous

Bridglar, canon time period, watch these two perfect men fall in love, THIS SLAPS PROBS THE FICS I HAVE READ THE MOST BELOVED OF ALL TIME

Magic to Make the Sanest Man Go Mad by TheGreenMeridian

Bridglar, canon time period, literally the softest, most tender porn on the internet 🥹

lighthouse on the sea by rednights

Bridglar, canon time period, John Bridgens learns he deserves to be loved and it makes me sick to my stomach how amazing it is

For Those About To Rock by neversaydie

The modern rock band AU you didn’t know you were looking for

At Furthest South by sadsparties

Fitzier, canon time period, the Antarctic expeditions if JFJ had joined - explored unreliable narrators in an extremely satisfying way

Lock and key by seekwell and hazelmotes

Canon, explores Silna and Bridgen’s friendship

How To Kill The Man You Love by madness_and_smiles

Fitzier, canon, I DONT KNOW HOW DESCRIBE THIS FIC OTHER THAN ITS SOME OF THE BEST FICTION IVE EVER READ, I’ve literally made people that haven’t watch the terror read this

Here Again, Even With A Thought by whipstitch

Canon, this will fulfill your need to know what Fitzjames and Bridgen’s friendship was like and will absolutely devastate you

(it’s) a guarantee soul destroyer by in_a_hedge

Joplittle, modern AU, Tom Jopson has a terrible, no-good, very bad week working at a pet store

i’ll be two steps on the water by eternalbrook

Irving/Gibson, modern AU, this bad boy got me shipping these lads something I never planned on doing

Devine Fruits by manicpixiedreamjop

Joplittle + Solomon, modern AU, the romance is TOO TIER and the porn also slays for this! This Solomon is also so extremely in character is almost painful but I love it so much

#the terror #I genuinely havent read bad fanfic for this fandom yet #also everyone on tumblr has amazing fic and fic recs #these are just the ones I had the foresight so save so I don’t have to hunt them down

[chou-de-chambers]

Monsieur's Request

Content Rating: Explicit (NSFW) Tags: Chamber x Reader, Chamber x You, Reader is a Valorant agent, Reader is non-Radiant, fem!reader, smut, eventual smut, sexual tension, size difference, making out, hickeys, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, porn with context (?), use of french, no beta we die like cinematic Cypher This is my first time writing smut, so beware! Also, I am open to comments and recommendations. Thanks! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Your week-long mission to inspect the ruined teleporters of Everett-Linde Research Facility was almost to its fruition. All it needed was Killjoy's expertise with technology and the superiors' conclusion, which would be due tomorrow. For now, the objective is to check yourself and Chamber in a room to stay for the night. Brimstone was unable to give both of you a ride back to headquarters given that you still had one more day left for the mission, unlike the others who were abruptly demanded to return for other duties. "We'll meet you there by noon," was the last voicemail you heard from your leader. You sighed. Camping was out of the option since it's just the two of you left, and it's riskier taking that route, so there was nothing you could do but endure a night's stay with him in an inn.

You heard him sigh from dismay as you both entered the room. Everything to his sight was cheap- mediocre. The ambience wasn't as extravagant as he was usually accustomed to, especially as a designer. Not even a hint of gold to the whites to at least fake luxury. Everything was washed black, brown, and green. Like swamp to his eyes. You didn't mind it, though. What's important was that you have your own bed and cabinet.

With exhaustion sinking in, you threw your backpack on the couch and dove into your bed. It felt like your body was being sucked by the mattress from how soft it was compared to your apartment bed in HQ. The sheets and pillows were spotless and clean. Smelled fresh from the laundry with a hint of lavender. You couldn't help but smile from how cozy it all felt.

Chamber, on the other hand, took meticulous steps in adjusting to being in a monstrosity of a room. He first removed his shoes and neatly placed them beside the door. Of course he kept his socks on; he wouldn't want his bare feet touching the room slippers. He then dusted off the inside of the cabinet with a disposable napkin before carefully placing his briefcase in it. You were watching him with one eye as you're one with your bed. He acted like he had one of his fragile toys inside his case, but you knew that he kept his arsenal within his radianite tattoos, scanning the way it flowed like gold canals from his forehead to his arms.

"Keep staring, mon chéri. I appreciate the attention," Chamber remarked as he folded the navy blue vest he took off himself. And guilty you obviously were, so as a defense mechanism, you buried your face on your pillows to hide your embarrassment. It's no secret that Chamber is one hell of a handsome gentleman who displayed such strong confidence inside and outside the field. He's too attractive that it's literally a trap left in the open, and one's stupid for falling for it. Most of the agents in VP, especially the superiors, knew that he had other motives, ones that were beyond his contract. He was vocal about it, describing his agenda as an "even bigger picture". Others found it difficult to bond with him 'cause of how good he is at pretending to be an open book, so tonight they paired him with someone quiet: someone like you.

This was unfair, you thought. You weren't great at keeping silent, you just were. You had always been a person of few words, and you found more sense in maintaining things direct and concise rather than prettying it with pointless fillers. But it did not mean that you were immune to his appeal. You were, in fact, 'stupid' for dipping your toes, looking back at the copious glances you stole from him this week.

You were gonna wrap yourself with your blanket when Chamber called your name, "May you come over here?" You turned your head to face where his voice came from, his words echoing from the bathroom.

"Yeah?," you lazily muttered, clicking your tongue, then dragging yourself out of the fragrant sheets. As you opened the door ajar, your eyes were blinded by the white light from the ceiling and the golden luster from Chamber's back tattoos. You gulped as you helplessly stared at his bulky physique, something you didn't expect due to how he was always covered decently. It took all the control you can to lock your jaw from dropping and your eyes from popping out of their sockets, feasting on his half-naked state. Good thing he wasn't looking in your direction to witness how stunned you were. Instead, he was facing the sink, his glasses on top of his head, squinting on a puny razor with disgust.

He turned to you, presenting the razor, "This inn has yet to cease my disappointment from growing," then lent it to you, "If you don't mind, please help me groom myself."

Just when you thought the situation won't get significantly awkward, more pressure was added by his request, followed by him almost closing the gap between the two of you. Your brows furrowed in confusion as to how the hell you were gonna do this. His shadow was literally looming over your figure.

"Um. Isn't there a stool somewhere? I can't reach," you asked as your eyes wandered in search of it, even when half the truth was you're finding an excuse to not look at him.

It wasn't long before a pair of strong hands made their way to your waist, raising you just enough to surprisingly grip Chamber's shoulders. The same hands later supported your thighs, anchoring you to sit on the bathroom counter. You felt a cool flash hit your clothed limbs from the counter's freezing surface, but it was paid for by the marksman's warm breathing on your face. You could also smell his expensive cologne which miraculously stayed even after being soaked for several hours under the sun. Chamber sported a smug look as he observed how shameful you were with your positions- you seemingly straddling him from the way you sat close to him and him pinning you on your spot with his arms on your sides- setting an opportunity for him to tease you.

"Is this better, mon chéri?"

Fuck you Chamber, you cursed in silence. You mentally slapped your very being to calm down and not overthink whatever's happening. He's probably just messing with you so he could feel better.

Making sure your palms weren't sweaty from this nerve-wracking situation, you fumbled for the tube of shaving cream and proceeded to prep him. You massaged his face, your fingers touching the pricks of stubble growing from his jaw, something one might fail to notice without closer inspection. These were ticklish to your soft hands, triggering you to picture Chamber with a full beard on- or a mustache maybe? It helped you ease your nerves, but thinking about how he would've looked was difficult since he always kept his face clean.

Try as you may ignore him, the more the silence grew, the higher the tension was becoming. Like a ticking bomb, your heart started to pace from how he kept his eyes on you. Almost like laser burning your skin. Like he was stripping you naked. How the hell were you gonna do this properly if he's acting like that?

Chamber watched the build-up of red from your ears to your cheeks. He's amused by the size difference, him embodying a predator cornering his next meal. How could he forget the way you effortlessly flicked your firearm at consecutive enemies during your mission together? It got him attracted to you like a damn magnet. Almost a distraction. From the skills you've exhibited, you just helped him save magazines of bullets and repair times, and sometimes all that's left for him to do was admire your graceful movements through Tour De Force's scope. Yet there's something about the way you switched now that's making him act up. The way you're desperately collecting yourself in front of him displayed a huge contrast against your dominance in the field. Interesting. His seed of fondness over you was being watered to growth the more he thought about how you're turning out to be his perfect match.

You weren't sure if it's just you but the proximity of your faces seemed to gradually lessen. Shifting your eyes down was a mistake too as you met deliciously toned muscles with gold circuit-like strips running from his torso to the boundary of his pants' waistband. With one hand holding the razor and the other on his face, you tried to initiate a conversation, hoping to get your mind out of the gutter.

"Do your tattoos hurt?"

It took him a few seconds before answering with a hum, "Non, why do you ask?"

"Well, it's because all your weapons are stored there, so it must take a lot of energy to take them out of you, right?" you followed in a matter-of-factly tone, genuinely curious while steadying your shaving hand, careful not to cut his skin.

Your trivial interest over his masterpiece excited him. After all, he loves talking about himself.

"They do, but I work out in order to compensate. So say, I wanted to upgrade my radianite weaponry, then I need to be stronger for that."

"Hm," you simply responded, unable to stop yourself from making quick peeks over his huge chest and broad shoulders, a clear proof that he had been sweating to build his body, "Um... You're not Radiant, right?"

"I am not as special as the others in terms of that," he said, "though I am special in another context."

You rolled your eyes in disagreement, although the butterflies fluttering in your stomach dictated otherwise. Just a bit and then you're done, you reminded yourself. You gently tilted his face using your free hand to the other direction. It's bothering how Chamber's eyes didn't leave your sight even with his head shifted. Like he's committing this obscene act in purpose. Hard to tell though because it might just be all in your head. After all, you're probably way below his type, and you've only been in the Valorant Protocol for less than a year to leave a lasting impression on the sentinel.

A drop of shaving foam fell onto your lap. Out of pure instinct, Chamber swiped it with his finger, his hand slightly pressing onto your thigh. It was heavy, and you swore you felt chills run down your spine from this contact. Gulping, you decided to fake curiosity over the continuation of his tattoos on his hand.

"And this is where your cards come from?"

"Ah," he exhaled, meekly showcasing the hand you were pertaining to, "Here is where my teleporters and traps are."

"So the cards-"

"Come from the other hand, yes."

Your brow raised in affirmation, "Oh."

You paused from your task to acknowledge his other hand, its wrist adorned by a custom gold watch touching the side of your other thigh. His arm was incredibly close, trapping you on your right side as you felt the metal bracelet poking through the fabric of your pants. You were almost done, left with the last step of moisturizing his face, so you continued to ignore this inevitable tension eating your insides and further entertained his ego, "Are there other things you can do?"

"Would you like me to show you?"

A whimper escaped your lips as your body had been suddenly pulled forward by strong hands that squeezed your thighs, the razor jumping out of your grasp and falling onto the bathroom floor. Chamber tugged the clean face towel hanging on the wall hook to wipe the leftover foam off of his face and threw it on the ground. You helplessly muttered, his nose almost touching yours, "I swear I'm almost done."

"It is a shame that I do not bear that much patience," he growled, his eyes fixated on the way your dry lips trembled. You were driving him feral from the way you cowered, face piping hot red under his big stature, and it's urging him to just ravage every inch of your being. But as a gentleman, he had to tone himself down, at least on the start, so he wouldn't scare you any more than you are right now. His hands caressed your waist, palms tracing the curves down to your hips. Chamber was leaving you breathless from his touch, forcing you to resort onto clutching his shoulders. The icy feeling of your hands on his bare skin motivated the marksman to pull you much closer, your hot core being poked by his tent through both your pants. You gasped in unison with him, crossing paths with his eyes set ablaze by desire.

His face slowly neared yours, the clean smell left by the shaving cream tickling your nose. Your ears rang from the vibrations of your pulse, too. Unsure of whatever urged him to be like this, your eyes closed and braced for whatever he might do. Then, Chamber's lips crashed yours, his mouth tasting stingy from the minty toothpaste. His rough hands slid under your upper garments, feeling your soft skin just below your chest. Quiet moans struggled to slip out from you as his tongue invaded your mouth. You were becoming dizzy from the warmth he radiated from every overlap of his lips on yours and every ghost of his touch close to your erotic parts, so you tried to push him away. Chamber respected this, pulling away from you as a wet string was tangled in between your lips. He licked his upper lip, savoring your aftertaste, and kept a heated look as he adored this mess you became from his advances.

"Not as innocent as I thought you were, mon ange," he teased with a smile, brushing a stray portion of your hair to the back of your red-tipped ear. You have so many questions, but the dryness of your mouth made it difficult to spit out words. You tried backing away from him, but you were caged. His grip on your thighs were also strong. Bruising, almost. Looking straight at him, you noticed your reflection from his dilated pupils. His breathing was audibly deeper this time, all while focusing on you and only you.

"W-Why?," you managed to speak out as your voice trembled.

The way he looked at you didn't waver, "Is it not obvious that I'm smitten over you?"

You blinked. You wanted to pinch yourself just to confirm whether you were dreaming or not because this did not feel right. The possibility of your death from failing to defuse the spike seemed more likely to happen than someone like Chamber harboring such a fire for you. Reject it as much as you did, the lust and want in his eyes did their absolute best to convince you that this is real. You were what he'd been eyeing for, much more a necessity than a want. To him, at this very moment, nothing could ever compare to finally having you. Even just for tonight.

Chamber pressed himself onto you, leaving you gasping for air as his entirety devoured your fragile being, gently pushing your back to lean on the mirror. His nose nuzzled your neck, then proceeded to indulge himself to your scent. His prediction was right; your smell was sweet and addicting, like a delicacy he'd purposely bite. You felt his tongue lick your neck, making you tense and earning him a moan from you. He groaned from the noise you just made, certainly wanting more.

"I beg of you, mon chéri. Please let me in," he breathed with his lips still grazing your neck. Unable to use your words, you affirmed his desperate plea by wrapping your legs around his hips and your hands on the back of his neck and shoulders. This made the feeling inside him eat him more, so he compensated by sucking and nipping onto your skin until there were hickeys on the base of your neck. You released lewd noises from the way Chamber brazenly marked you and from the way his hands gripped onto your frame- like you'd slip away from him if he didn't hold you tight.

The line was almost crossed when his fingers held onto the clasp of your jacket's zipper. You liked everything that's happening- you sometimes dreamt of it, but this is reality, and he's skipping way too many bases. His wrist was stopped by your hand, causing him to look at you with lidded eyes, lips moving to kiss your hand that held his, "Are you not enjoying this?"

You struggled to make eye contact from how you felt your face will explode from too much heat. In response to his question, you shook your head. He stopped, slowly backing away to give you some space, but not far enough to still feel each other's breathing. "My apologies, I got carried away. I should have asked for your consent first." His palms then met your burning cheeks, raising your head enough for you to face him, "But mon amour, I adore you. You are the only thing in my mind ever since we started working closely together. What shall I do to make you mine?"

His words shocked you. Obviously from the way he explored you hungrily, you knew there was something, but you refused to accept this until he said it out loud. You thought this was gonna be a one night thing or just his carnal desires talking, and you didn't want to be left heartbroken by any of those. You're just too soft for that kind of thing. "Are you sure?"

"That is a silly question," he answered, adding another passionate kiss to your hand, "Of course I am."

"T-Then..," you hesitated for a moment, unable to think clearly from the spirals that crowded your mind.

"Then what?"

Building up courage, you accepted this possibility of Chamber wanting you, abandoning the what ifs for tomorrow and trying to enjoy the privilege of being his tonight. With your hand finally loose on his wrist to touch his cheek, you mumbled, "Then take me."

"Tu m'excites, mon amour," he breathed out shakily before locking his lips onto yours. The kiss this time was more torrid than before, with your tongues feverishly exploring each other's mouths. Your hands, in need of something to brace onto, slid from his jowls to the back of his neck and his undercut, your head tilted upwards as his figure conquered yours. Without pause from making out, your jacket was zipped open to the hem, exposing the tank top that hugged your upper body. Chamber's lips, its bottom swelled from the bites you've snuck, eventually pulled away to peck your collarbone. You were feeble from every move he made, melting like a puddle as his hands swiftly got rid of articles of clothing that blocked him from feeling your bare chest.

His warm hands palmed your breasts, supple to his touch. "Ah, just the right fit," he whispered with a smile before sucking your earlobes. Your nipples had gotten erect the more he kneaded on your chest, eventually getting played by his fingers. You couldn't help but let out moans from this loving you received without any demands for exchange. Lucky for you that Chamber's the type of man to find pleasure from his partner's pleasure, so he's doing his absolute best to elicit these lewd reactions from you to satisfy himself too. Your panties were inevitably getting soaked from this heated activity, made worse by his mouth sucking on your nipples and his erection grinding on you.

Chamber's slicked-back hair became disheveled from navigating every inch of your bare skin- starting from the base of your jaw to your breasts. He's even hotter looking like this, you thought to yourself, although your lashes fluttering in passion relayed this to him. "Keep your eyes on me," he ordered in a soft tone as he descended to your legs, removing your pants and leaving your underwear clinging onto your folds. Your thighs were spread apart by Chamber's hands, his hot breathing fighting the counter's chilly contact with your skin. The marksman's face was too close to your sex, with only a thin underwear as the only boundary left. He smiled at the sight of your panties' wet stain, his fingers repeatedly swiping onto it, assuring him that you were enjoying this as much as he did and earning him moans from you.

You swore your mind was turning blank from how his eyes were still staring at yours as his fingers moved from the stain to your panties' fabric, tucking them on the side, revealing your moist folds. His eyes momentarily closed from ecstasy, smelling your rousing scent below. He even bet that your taste was just as good. You bit your lower lip as his tongue began to flick from your folds to your erect clit, keeping this pattern over and over again. "Oh my god," you needily whimpered. You haven't felt anything better than this. It's so different from when it's just you touching yourself during your sleepless nights or stressful weekends. Moans were hardly produced from you masturbating in your bed compared to Chamber coating your entirety with his saliva. He's too good at eating you out. It felt like you were ascending into heaven.

Your fingers intertwined with his as you were nearing your climax. He didn't stop from lapping your cunt even after your release, your tummy coiling and your legs shaking badly from the high. You were still gasping for air when Chamber decided to unbuckle his belt, freeing his hard length that curled up to his navel. His eyes were also way darker than before. You were getting wetter just from the sight of his cock erect for you, and this was clear proof that he had asserted so much power over you right now. It wasn't a problem since you were more than willing to be used by him, thanks to the lust intoxicating your mind, vacant of any rationality. Both of you were longing for each other- and you'd like to leave it at that to keep things simple.

"I cannot wait any longer," Chamber grunted as he held onto his cock's shaft, spitting on it as lube, "You are way too beautiful being this sinful for me."

You struggled to keep your noises inside you as his cock's head penetrated your entrance. It wasn't even the whole thing yet it already felt big. Chamber groaned from how your walls clenched and slowly sucked him in. It's been so long ever since the last time he visited cloud nine, and to do it with a heavenly being such as you, all hot and bothered from his erotic efforts, made it the best he'd ever experienced. Oh, how he loved the way you turned to mush on his grasp- hair tumbled and body painted by his love marks- as he slowly sank himself inside you.

Your hands were lost, fumbling all over the marksman's back for someplace to hold onto as he thrust in you, your nails digging onto him. It was distracting him from relishing your insides, so he caught your wrists and pinned them above your head. This was his declaration of control, and it turned you on much more than ever, your sex getting wetter, allowing Chamber to insert his whole length with ease until he was balls deep into you. "Merde, you feel so good," he cursed as his hips drilled into yours, spreading your legs and your insides even wider. The sloppy sounds from your skin and his skin echoed through the four walls, filling the room with vulgarity. If this happened at headquarters, the whole team would've heard how you shamelessly cried his name. Thank Brim for this blessing in disguise because if it wasn't for him, then you wouldn't find out that the handsome guy you've been ogling at missions fancied you more.

Chamber amped up his pacing, driven crazy by the music of your moans. This made your mouth dry, longing for him, so your face desperately reached for his. "Please," you begged with tears at the edge of your eyes from the pleasure built up. Chamber was motivated by how you looked like a hungry pup, pleading for sustenance, so like a good master would, he leaned closer and reciprocated the fervor of your kisses. Both of you exchanged hot moans in between making out, all while he railed you like the sun wouldn't shine again tomorrow.

You felt a tight knot building in your stomach and your legs started to quiver, a clear sign that you were getting close. Chamber, being mindful of cues, picked up his pace until his rhythm turned reckless. Your locked hands fought for release, anchoring on his worked shoulders while his hands descended to your ass, moving you so he could pound you harder. You tasted a hint of blood from biting too hard on your lip as you climaxed, your legs trembling non-stop as they went around the gentleman's thin waist. He didn't slow down from pumping his cock into you while you were releasing, ensuring that you're letting all of it out, drenching his cock in all of your juices.

The adrenaline in your system slowly eased, helping you relax and catch your breath. He pulled out, his hands sliding towards your overworked thighs, caressing them to avoid cramps. This was thoughtful of him, earning him more attraction from you. It's also fair that he was as flustered as you were; at least you knew that he was truthful with his feelings for you. Chamber then pecked your forehead, not minding the sweat that dripped, "Did I feel good?"

"That's a silly question, monsieur," you retorted, hearing him chuckle. He once again kissed you, but this time it was more gentle than the firsts, combining it with a hug.

He hummed with contentment, studying your work on his face through the mirror while not letting you go, "You did excellently for someone who doesn't do this kind of grooming."

"Thank you," you happily whispered to his ear, tightening your arms around his neck.

"And," he whispered back with a change in his tone, "You're loud for someone who's awfully quiet most of the time." His grip then aided you to plant your feet back on the floor. As you were finally able to stand up again, Chamber then lightly spanked your ass, prompting you to face the bathroom mirror with your back leaning to his chest.

"Up," he patted your thigh, commanding you to bring that leg up on the counter with his erection slapping your once again heated core, "The night is still young, and I have plenty more to show you."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

#valorant #valorant fanfiction #valorant smut #valorant x reader #valorant chamber #chamber valorant #chamber #chamber x reader #chamber x you #vincent fabron #vincent fabron x you #choudechambers writing #kinktober #kinktober 2022

[xcherryerim]

this isn’t a request, more of a question! How do you start off a tumblr for writing? Smuts and what not. Any tips? I especially like the way you decorate each post and space it out!

Hello! thank you so much for asking me this omg

I will mostly talk about smut content because that is mainly what I write but some tips can be used for fluff, angst and what not! (also pls keep in mind I started writing like a month ago so i’m new to this too!)

So…

1. I will always recommend to read other people’s work!

This is the best way to see how other people describe certain feelings, settings, emotions and even characters!

2. Write in the perspective of the reader, not the writer.

What this means is make sure to be detailed on your writing, and also try to be inclusive as possible. Doesn’t matter if you’re writing for gn!reader, afab, fem, amab etc. For example, don’t describe the reader (if you’re writing for readers ofc) that they’re skinny, pale, that their flesh is pink (for smuts), that their ‘chest is big’ because that might not the the case for everyone. I would say lean more on the surroundings, the noises, and the sensations rather than the body itself.

3. Do your research!

if you’re writing for gn!readers for example, try to look up for tips on how to write for them. This is what I normally use.

When it comes to smut, one of the hardest things for me is to come up with the positions. So, I look for sexual positions online (the examples are drawn out) or watch actual porn. AND IK HOW IT SOUNDS BUT come on, I’m writing literal porn. This is to see visually how the body reacts realistically to certain positions.

(Yes, i’m a visual learner)

4. This is more if you have a ton of ideas like me. Anytime you come up with something WRITE IT OUT ASAP (if you can ofc) doesn’t have to be dialogue or too specific. It can be as simple as “He is your roommate and ends up having shower sex with the reader.” (this is taken out of my ideas list lmao)

I also wanted to say that if you really want to write a scenario that has been overdone (Derek x reader assistant or a story related to Mike and his vest) that does not mean you can't write it, just make it unique and yours!

5. Finally, do not get discouraged. Writing at first is overwhelming, and if you’re like me you’ll always think your writing isn’t good enough but remember, there will always be someone out there willing to read and appreciate your work.

Also if we get more technical, I use Google Docs, Grammarly, and Nautral Reader (when I’m tired of reading my work).

Hope this helped, and if you have more questions, please let me know! Again, thank you so much for asking me about this.

#I literally just woke up #writing smut #smut writing #smut writing tips #smut tips #writing tips #writers on tumblr