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#is the tension in every scene with them i think
egophiliac · 2 days
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Hi there! I really love your comics and how expressive they are. How do you go about making the characters in your comic so expressive?
thank you! 💚💜💚 I am REALLY bad at explaining things, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but maybe there's something helpful in here somewhere. :')
1. warm up! drawing is a physical activity, after all! so if I'm planning on sitting down and drawing for a while, I usually start off by taking a couple of minutes to doodle a bunch of circles and lines and random shapes, just to get my drawing arm goin' again and get back into the physical groove. just stuff like this:
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and just do that for however long you feel like! you can kind of feel when your arm starts to loosen up and your strokes get more confident. it makes it a lot easier to get those swoopy big lines and gestures!
2. play around with how you use your lines! paying attention to the shapes that they're making will change a lot about how much force and life your drawing feels like it has. (no way is better than another, it just depends on what effect you're going for and how it looks as part of the larger whole.)
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and you can also use lines against each other to get different vibes:
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it's not really a matter of "you need to make sure all your lines are always doing this all the time", it's more like...being aware of it, and getting that into the general thrust of a pose, if that makes sense? like a lot of smaller lines of action, beyond the big one that goes through the spine.
(just gonna use my own art as examples, apologies)
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if you have a good foundation of tension, then all of the little bumps and contours of a character's details won't get in the way of it, and it'll still come through.
and don't forget about negative space either! the spaces between things have their own interesting shapes too!
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I don't mean this to come off as, like, all these extra things that you need to be constantly thinking about and stressing over. more like...just try different stuff and then see how it works and how it changes the feeling! if you find a good shape, see if you can exaggerate it and make it more interesting, and how that affects things! angles and shapes are a LOT of fun to experiment and mess around with, especially when you're going more cartoony. :D
3. acting!
just...spending a little time to think about what the characters are actually doing! (aka the "figuring out what everyone is doing with their hands" bit.) this is more a personal preference, but especially in multi-panel comics, I like to have them be in the middle of doing stuff. not just big actions, but smaller things -- like even just how they're sitting or standing -- so that it feels like we're looking in on the middle of a scene, instead of a couple of characters just standing around neutrally and staring straight ahead while talking at each other.
this probably sounds really obvious, but it is one of the most fun parts for me! I love trying to find some little action or something that they can be involved in, especially if it's relevant to their character or adds an extra joke. (for some reason this usually involves me being mean to Sebek) (I'm sorry)
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it doesn't need to be everyone Always! Doing! Something! all the time, especially if starts becoming distracting (sometimes they do actually need to just be standing around neutrally and staring straight ahead, especially if there's a bigger action going on that you want the audience to focus on instead). but even just figuring out some kind of non-neutral pose for them to be in can add a lot and make it feel less generic!
3. thumbnailing!
this is, again, very much a personal preference; unfortunately, every artist really is different, and we all have different processes that work better for us. so I can only speak to my personal experience! but I find what helps is to start REALLY rough -- not so much as in messy, as in not trying to start right into actually drawing everything out. like, literally just starting with stick figures and :O faces.
it probably doesn't sound relevant when talking about Drawing Expressively, but I find it's really, really helpful to have already figured out what everyone should be doing (acting!) and what the overall general layout and flow of things should be, before getting into the actual meat of drawing the characters. like having a sketch for the sketch!
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(good compositional flow is something I struggle with, and text layout especially, so this stage also helps a LOT with making sure things are fitting where I want them and staying consistent/not breaking screen direction/etc.)
then after that, I can go ahead and focus on getting those Shapes and Lines and Angles and all that, without having to think too much about the layout or where things should go!
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(of course, the downside of that is that my thumbnails are usually way better than my actual drawings, alas alas.)
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4. this is more philosophical, but...give yourself some slack. the stress of Making Things Look Good is, ironically, often the biggest problem. (see: thumbnails looking better than the actual drawings.) so...let yourself draw shittier and without regards to accuracy. make things just for yourself without thinking about posting or showing them to anyone else. draw stupid faces and wrong proportions because they feel better that way. focus on what's fun and not on getting a perfect end result. "draw expressively, not well", as they say -- you can always tighten up things like proportions and details later, if you really want to.
that's all WAY easier said than done -- god knows I haven't really managed it -- but even just aiming for that attitude really, REALLY helps. if your lines are confident, they'll look a lot more alive and expressive than lines that are exactly technically precise but have no rhythm in them. (this is why tracing photographs tends to look so weirdly stiff and unrealistic, by the way -- even if you're drawing realistically, you usually need to exaggerate and stylize a little bit so it doesn't look lifeless.) it's a balance between caring about what you draw, but also being willing to let things go a little bit.
↑ I hope some of this helps! I don't know if any of this was actually what you had in mind, let alone much of it actually made sense outside of my head. :') but hopefully you (or other people) will be able to get something out of it!
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hathorneheiress · 3 days
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Something that kind of bothered me if you will is how people think Grayson and Avery had romantic chemistry together.
In the first book Grayson treated Avery nastily and neither trusted each other. There was tension every time they were in a scene till the end of the book. No romance.
Book 2. Okay so there was some sweet moments with the skiing, sword fighting, and then the kiss. But still I didn't feel any romance. I saw two people who used to be enemies slowing becoming friends. Avery was having to become what Grayson was raised to be. And just under a year, where Grayson had his whole life. Grayson knew the struggle and he wanted to help. Also the fact Avery thought of Jameson when she was told to picture someone while on the imaginary cliff.
Book 3. It's pretty obvious Avey and Jameson are a thing. Grayson has gone to Harvard but then returns for her birthday. It's awkward between them when Eve is around but then we have that heart wrenching scene in the chapel. When Grayson tells Avery he had never hated her and there are many things that she will never know about how he feels about her. I think it was his way of telling her that they will ever be together. She choose Jameson and Grayson knew that.
Anyways, so I still stand by that Avery and Grayson are each other's right hand person. Biggest supporters and comrades in arms. Not lovers.
Disagree or agree all you like.
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myscenic · 3 hours
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Part I | Part II coming soon :>
Pairing: incubus!jung sungchan x prince!male!reader
Genre: royalty au, smut
Warnings: unprotected sex (don't irl!!), swearing, big dick sungchan (yes, again, handjob (r. receiving), blowjob (s. receiving), cum eating, slight gore, character deaths, (tough reader turns into a sub real quick ijbol), and more (i realized this was too long so I cut it into 2 parts), pls lmk if there's any mistakes :)
Word Count: 3.8k+
Synopsis:
𖤐 Note: this was inspired by smth, but i can't remember about what it was, so💀 still can't believe I got so many notes from my last fic, thank u guys sm!! im not really a good smut writer as im still learning, this rlly motivates me to write more but i think ima need to write more non smut fics to calm myself down-
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y/n, the prince of the y/l/n's, stood before his father, the king, in the grand hall of the castle. the air was heavy with tension as the king addressed the group of knights assembled before him. y/n's heart pounded with a mix of apprehension and determination.
"my loyal knights," the king began, his voice commanding and authoritative. "i have called you here today to address a grave matter that has plagued our kingdom. people have been vanishing without a trace, and we cannot turn a blind eye any longer."
y/n's father's eyes bore into each knight's soul, his gaze unwavering. "i hereby command each and every one of you to investigate this matter. find out what is happening, and put an end to this menace that plagues our land."
the knights nodded in unison, their resolve firm. y/n stepped forward, his voice filled with determination. "i will lead the charge, father. i swear to you that i will uncover the truth and bring justice to those who have suffered."
the king's gaze softened, pride gleaming in his eyes. "i have faith in you, my son."
with their orders given, y/n and his fellow knights set off towards the town where the disappearances had been occurring. the moon hung high in the sky as y/n's heart raced with a mix of anticipation and unease. he knew that his duty as a prince went beyond protecting the kingdom; it was about safeguarding its people from the unknown horrors that lurked in the shadows.
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as they ventured deeper into the small village, y/n's senses heightened. it was as if the very air crackled with an otherworldly energy. suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced the silence, sending shivers down y/n's spine. without hesitation, he motioned for his fellow knights to follow him, leading the charge towards the source of the disturbance.
the house loomed before them, its windows shrouded in darkness. y/n's grip tightened around his sword as he prepared for the worst. he exchanged glances with his comrades, their eyes reflecting a mix of determination and concern.
with a swift kick, y/n pushed open the creaking door, revealing a scene of eerie stillness. the room was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the worn-out furniture. but what caught y/n's attention were the lifeless bodies of his fellow knights, piled together in a haunting display.
a sense of dread washed over y/n as he scanned across the room. he knew that the incubus, sungchan, was responsible for this mess. the prince's eyes darted around the room, searching for any signs of the demon's presence.
but as y/n turned his gaze back to the lifeless bodies, a flicker of movement caught his eye. in the corner of the room, a figure emerged from the shadows, revealing the horns first, then the enigmatic and alluring form of sungchan himself.
"well, well, well, isn't this the prince of the y/l/n’s?" sungchan's voice dripped with a mix of amusement and malice as he sauntered towards y/n, his eyes filled with a predatory gleam. "ah~ your knights. don't worry about them, my dear prince. i've taken good care of them. i'm sure they're in a better place now~”
y/n's eyes narrowed, his grip on his sword tightening. "you monster! what have you done to them?"
sungchan chuckled, his voice a seductive melody. "oh, nothing too permanent, my prince~ just a little taste of pleasure and pain. they were quite...entertaining."
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y/n's rage consumed him, fueling his every action as he swiftly gripped his sword and lunged towards sungchan, determined to exact his revenge. but to his astonishment, sungchan effortlessly flickered his hand, causing the sword to be flung away across the room. y/n's eyes widened in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest.
a wicked grin spread across sungchan's lips as he taunted y/n. "is this all you've got, my dear prince? such a disappointment~" his voice dripped with amusement and superiority, relishing in the power dynamic that had shifted in his favor.
y/n then tried to punch sungchan in the face. but before y/n could touch him, sungchan swiftly moved, his movements fluid and graceful. he reached out and gripped y/n's wrist with an iron grip, overpowering him effortlessly. with a sudden, forceful motion, sungchan flung y/n onto the bed, causing the prince to crash onto the soft mattress.
y/n's body sprawled across the bed, his mind reeling from the unexpected turn of events. he struggled to regain his composure, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. anger still burned within him, but it was now mingled with a sense of vulnerability and helplessness.
sungchan loomed over y/n, his presence dominating the space. his dark, seductive eyes bore into y/n's, relishing in the control he held. "oh, my prince, you truly are a sight to behold when you're filled with rage. but sadly, you can't do anything now."
y/n's muscles tensed as he attempted to free himself from sungchan's grip, but it was useless. he could feel the power emanating from sungchan, an otherworldly force that left him powerless to resist. the realization of his own vulnerability sent a shiver down his spine.
sungchan's voice was a low, sultry whisper as he leaned in closer, his breath caressing y/n's ear. "don't worry, my prince. i have no intention of causing you any harm... yet. consider this a taste of what's to come. your defiance only adds to the pleasure I derive from breaking you."
y/n's mind raced, his emotions a tumultuous whirlwind. he knew he had to find a way to escape sungchan's clutches, to protect himself and his knights. but the odds seemed insurmountable, and the path to victory obscured by sungchan's overwhelming power.
as y/n lay on the bed, his body still tingling from the impact, he braced himself for what lay ahead. the battle had taken an unexpected turn.
sungchan's eyes glinted with a mix of mischief and desire as he slowly crawled over y/n, his movements sinuous and deliberate. he leaned in close, his lips barely grazing the shell of y/n's ear as he whispered, his voice dripping with tantalizing promises.
"i was hoping for a show, my dear prince," sungchan purred while playing with y/n’s hair, a sultry smirk playing on his lips. "but i guess i'll have to take matters into my own hands."
y/n's heart raced, a mixture of fear and curiosity filling his mind. he couldn't help but ask, his voice laced with a hint of defiance, "w-what are you going to do?..."
sungchan's laughter filled the room. "oh, my sweet prince, you'll find out soon enough~”
with a swift motion, sungchan raised his hand, his fingertips glowing with an eerie, otherworldly energy. he whispered spells under his breath.
y/n's vision blurred, his consciousness fading away as he succumbed to the power of sungchan's magic. in the span of a few seconds, his body went limp, collapsing onto the bed as he slipped into unconsciousness.
"now, my prince, it's time for the real show to begin," sungchan murmured. he traced a finger along y/n's jawline, his touch sending shivers down the prince's spine even in his unconscious state.
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after a few seconds, y/n's eyes fluttered open, his consciousness returning to him in a haze. as his senses slowly awakened, he became acutely aware of the chill in the air against his exposed skin. his heart pounded in his chest as his gaze fell upon his torn clothes strewn across the floor, leaving him completely vulnerable and exposed.
a mixture of shock and horror washed over y/n as his eyes shifted to sungchan, who knelt between his legs with a sinister smirk playing on his lips. sungchan's fingers danced along y/n's inner thighs, teasingly tracing the contours of his skin. The sight of sungchan toying with his hardened cock sent a shiver of pleasure mixed with humiliation down y/n's spine.
"y-you monster!" y/n's voice trembled with a mix of anger and humiliation. "how dare y-you!"
sungchan's laughter filled the room, a chilling sound that reverberated in y/n's ears. "how dare me?~" he purred, "then why is your body reacting to me?~"
sungchan leaned in closer, his breath hot against y/n's ear as he whispered, his voice laced with both menace and seduction. "you look so hot under my touch~"
y/n's body trembled, a tint of pink appeared on his cheeks. he knew this was wrong and he was embarrassed. the prince wanted to defend himself but there was no chance.
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as y/n attempted to move his hands, panic washed over him. his heart raced, his breathing quickened, but his efforts were met with resistance. he glanced down, his eyes widening in horror as he realized his hands were magically pinned to the bed headboard, leaving him completely at sungchan's touch.
a mix of fear and rage coursed through y/n's veins as he struggled against the invisible restraints, his body straining against the unyielding magic that held him captive. "let me go, you fucking devil!" he spat, his voice laced with defiance and desperation.
sungchan's eyes glinted with muse, relishing in the power he held over y/n. he leaned in closer, his breath hot against y/n's face as he whispered, his voice dripping with wicked amusement. "oh, my prince, don’t you wanna have some fun?~"
a wicked smile played on sungchan's lips as he observed the war within y/n. "you see, my prince, your defiance only makes this game more playful..."
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sungchan's eyes gleamed with a mixture of admiration and sadistic pleasure as he praised y/n, his voice dripping with lust and power. "my, my, my, what a handsome prince you are," he crooned, his gaze fixated on y/n's exposed body. "and that beautiful cock of yours, it's simply irresistible."
a wicked giggle escaped sungchan's lips as he relished in the control he held over y/n's body. his fingers wrapped around y/n's throbbing length, his touch both teasing and torturous. "are you ready to have some fun, my dear prince?" he taunted, his voice laced with seduction.
y/n's anger burned within him, his defiance still present, but as sungchan's hand began to stroke his cock, an involuntary moan escaped his lips. the pleasure mingled with his anger, forming a chaotic mix of sensations that left him both frustrated and achingly aroused.
"y-you... ah~" y/n stammered, his voice filled with a mix of anger and reluctant pleasure. "you son of a... f-fuck!" his words were choked off by a moan as sungchan expertly played with the tip of his cock, rubbing circles that sent waves of overstimulation coursing through his body.
sungchan's laughter filled the room. "how cute~," he purred, his voice a seductive melody. "i definitely prefer this side of you more~"
sungchan's seductive words and skilled touch continued to push y/n closer to the edge of pleasure, but amidst the overwhelming sensations, a surge of anger and defiance coursed through him. his frustration reached its peak, and with a voice strained with desire and fury, he managed to utter, "i-im gonna... ah~ fucking kill... y-you, fuck!"
y/n's words were punctuated by a moan, his body trembling with a mixture of pleasure and rage. sungchan's relentless pace only heightened his need, pushing him further and further towards the edge.
sungchan's ears perked up at y/n's outburst, a wicked grin spreading across his face. he tightened his grip around y/n's throbbing cock, his fingers teasingly tracing along the sensitive tip that glistened with precum. a low chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned in closer, his voice dripping with amusement and a hint of sadistic pleasure.
"what was that, prince?" sungchan taunted. "did i hear a threat? how charming." his fingers continued to play with y/n's leaking tip, receiving a gasp from the prince. "but let me remind you, y/n, that here, in this moment, you are mine. and you can’t do anything about it."
y/n's breath hitched as sungchan's fingers circled and teased, his body betraying him in the most intimate of ways. each touch, each stroke of sungchan's fingers pushed y/n closer to the edge, the desire for release becoming unbearable.
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y/n's body shivered as his orgasm crashed over him, shooting white ropes all over on his body and sungchan’s hands. hee panted heavily, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. sweat clung to his forehead and his body trembled with a mix of pleasure and exhaustion. but as y/n tried to catch his breath, sungchan's chuckle filled the room, shattering the brief moment of respite.
"oh, y/n~," sungchan taunted. "i'm not done with you yet." his fingers, still coated with y/n's sticky cum, descended towards the prince's stomach. with a twisted smirk, sungchan scooped up the milky fluid, bringing it to his lips.
y/n's eyes widened in disbelief as sungchan proceeded to eat his own cum, his gaze locked with the prince's. lust danced in sungchan's eyes as he savored the taste, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. "mm~ you taste so fucking amazing," he purred. "i can't wait to have more of you later."
before y/n could react or utter a word, sungchan descended upon him, capturing his lips in a passionate, possessive kiss. sungchan murmured between the kiss, "taste a bit of yourself." sharing y/n's own cum with him.
the taste of the prince’s own cum mingled with both of their mouths, their tongues swirling together. y/n's mind swirled with a mix of emotions, his senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.
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sungchan released y/n's hands from the headboard, granting him a momentary sense of relief. y/n flexed his fingers, feeling the tingling sensation return as blood rushed back into his limbs. his cock was still throbbing, but a glimmer of defiance remained in his eyes.
sungchan observed y/n's reaction with a satisfied smirk, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and lust. "looks like someone's eager for more, huh?" he taunted, his voice oozing with dominance. "don’t worry, I’ll give you everything~"
y/n tried to defend himself but nothing came out of his mouth. did the heroic side of him got consumed by the devil?
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sungchan's cock was a sight to behold, long and thick, with prominent veins pulsating along its length. it stood proudly before y/n, an imposing presence that both excited and intimidated him.
y/n couldn't help but gaze at the impressive member before him, his eyes tracing every contour, every throbbing vein that ran along its shaft. the sight of it made his mouth water, his own desire growing with each passing second. he could feel his own arousal building, a mix of curiosity and a hunger to experience the pleasure that sungchan's cock promised.
sungchan's voice cut through the air, dripping with confidence and a hint of dominance. "you're in for a wild ride, my prince," he declared, his smirk widening as he gave his cock a few pumps, accentuating its size and hardness. y/n gulped at the sight, feeling nervous but also excited to try it at the same time.
"i know you're eager," sungchan continued, his voice laced with a commanding tone. "but take it slow first if you want. so that you can savor every inch of me." his words hung in the air, a seductive invitation that y/n couldn't resist.
y/n wanted to please sungchan, to feel the fullness of him inside him. with a mixture of anticipation and excitement, y/n leaned forward, his lips hovering just above the swollen head of sungchan's cock.
as y/n's lips brushed against the swollen head of sungchan's cock, a wave of realization crashed over him. what have i gotten myself into? he thought to himself, a mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through his veins. the boundaries he had once held so firmly were now blurred, and he found himself venturing into uncharted territory.
the taste of sungchan's arousal filled y/n's mouth, a heady combination of salt and musk that sent a jolt of desire straight to his core. his tongue swirled around the velvety flesh, exploring each ridge and pulsating vein with a newfound hunger. it was an act of submission, a surrendering of control that both thrilled and terrified him.
as y/n continued to take sungchan deeper into his mouth, he couldn't help but blush at the way sungchan responded. the low, guttural moans that escaped his lips fueled y/n's own arousal, reminding him of the power he held over sungchan's pleasure.
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and as y/n's mouth continued to work tirelessly, he knew that once he crossed this line, there would be no turning back. but the allure of the unknown, the promise of pleasure that lay just beyond his grasp, was too enticing to resist.
sungchan's voice dripped with arrogance as he uttered his words, his dominance palpable. "i know you can take it all in, baby," he said, his tone laced with a smug confidence. and without any warning, he thrust his length y/n didn't take earlier into his mouth.
y/n's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and pleasure flooding his senses. the sudden intrusion made him gag, the sensation of sungchan's cock hitting the back of his throat sending shivers down his spine. his mouth stretched to accommodate the sheer size, saliva pooling around his lips as he struggled to find his breath.
drool trickled down the corners of y/n's mouth, a display of his submission and the overwhelming stimulation he was experiencing. he fought against his instinct to resist, allowing sungchan's cock to fill his mouth completely.
sungchan's grip tightened in y/n's hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he maintained control. "that's it, take it all," he commanded, his voice a husky growl. The mixture of y/n's gagging and drooling seemed to fuel sungchan's arousal, his hips instinctively thrusting forward, seeking more of y/n's warm wetness.
y/n's eyes watered as he struggled to find a rhythm, his throat constricting around sungchan's cock as he fought to suppress his gag reflex.
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sungchan's voice filled the room once again, this time with a hint of admiration. "you've given me the best blowjob of my life, fuckkk~" he praised, his words causing a surge of pride and satisfaction to wash over y/n. the validation that he had pleased sungchan in such a profound way fueled his desire to continue, to push himself even further.
y/n's heart swelled at the praise, a mixture of pleasure and happiness flooding his senses. the thought that he had brought sungchan so much pleasure, that he had exceeded his expectations, filled him with an intoxicating sense of fulfillment.
but sungchan's words quickly shifted the focus back to the present. "i'm almost there, baby," he announced, his voice laced with a sense of urgency. it was a warning, a signal that the climax was close and y/n's purpose was to bring sungchan to that peak of ecstasy.
as sungchan's thrusts grew more erratic, his grip on y/n's hair tightened, a silent demand for y/n to keep going, to push him over the edge.
y/n's mouth continued to work tirelessly, his lips and tongue coaxing every last drop of pleasure from sungchan's cock. the taste of sungchan's essence filled his senses, pushing him closer to the edge of his own release.
with one final thrust, sungchan's body tensed, his grip on y/n's hair becoming almost painful. a guttural moan escaped his lips as he spilled his seed into y/n's eager mouth. the taste of sungchan's release sent shockwaves of pleasure through y/n's body, his own orgasm crashing over him like a tidal wave.
sungchan cupped y/n's flushed cheeks, his touch both possessive and tender. "swallow it all," he commanded, his voice dripping with a mix of dominance and affection. y/n obediently followed, swallowing every last drop of sungchan's essence.
sungchan's smirk widened as he watched y/n comply with his order. "say 'ah'," he teased, his tone laced with amusement. y/n opened his mouth, his cheeks still flushed from their intense encounter, and let out a soft, breathless "ah."
sungchan's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he praised y/n, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and arousal. "good boy," he whispered, his words sending a shiver of pleasure down y/n's spine.
y/n's blush deepened at sungchan's teasing words.
sungchan leaned in closer, his voice a low, seductive murmur. "you like being called a good boy, don't you?" he taunted, his words causing a surge of arousal to course through y/n's veins. the combination of sungchan's dominance and y/n's submissive nature created an intoxicating dynamic that left him craving for more.
y/n's gaze shifted away, his cheeks red. he hesitantly nodded in response to sungchan's teasing words, unable to deny the truth in them.
sungchan chuckled softly, his voice dripping with amusement. "aww, that's cute," he teased, his words laced with a hint of affection. the playful tone in his voice served to both tease and reassure y/n.
y/n bit his lip, unable to hide the bashful smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.
sungchan leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over y/n's ear as he whispered, "you're such a good boy, y/n. i love how eager you are to please me. this attitude is so much better than the heroic, bravery side of yours~" his words sent shivers down y/n's spine, his body responding to the praise and affirmation in the most primal of ways.
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sungchan then looked down and saw that y/n had came without being touched. a mischievous giggle escaped his lips, causing y/n's blush to deepen even further.
"aw, baby," sungchan teased, his voice filled with playful amusement. "did you just come untouched?" he asked.
y/n's face turned a deeper shade of crimson immediately.
"it's alright," sungchan said, his tone gentle and comforting. "i'm glad i made you feel good. your pleasure is important to me~"
sungchan leaned closer, his breath ghosting over y/n's ear. "i have so much more in store for you, baby," he whispered. "you're going to be begging for more." he said the last sentence seductively making y/n gasp.
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sungchan gently guided y/n to lay back on the bed, his touch both tender and commanding. he positioned himself on top of y/n, their bodies aligned in a sensual embrace. leaning in, sungchan captured y/n's lips in a passionate kiss, devouring y/n hungrily.
their lips molded together in a heated dance, tongues tangling in a fervent rhythm. sungchan's hands roamed over y/n's body, tracing the contours of his skin with a mix of possessiveness and adoration. as their kiss deepened, sungchan couldn't resist the temptation to leave his mark on y/n's exposed skin.
lowering his lips to y/n's neck, sungchan began to suck and nip at the sensitive flesh, leaving a trail of red marks in his wake.
moving downward, sungchan continued his actions, lavishing attention on y/n's collarbone. his tongue traced along the bone, leaving a wet trail in its wake.
y/n's breath hitched, a chorus of moans and gasps escaping his lips as sungchan marked him as his own.
sungchan's voice dripped with desire as he whispered against y/n's skin, his breath hot against the marks he had left. "you're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his words laced with a mixture of reverence and lust. sungchan couldn't help but be captivated by y/n's allure, secretly enjoying each and every moment.
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i think to me yaz&14 is like,,,ce monde où tu n'existes pas/heavy in your arms
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buffyspeak · 1 year
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shadowhunters rewatch 2023:
alec and clary not trusting each other in 1.03 vs. alec saving her anyways
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Russian Roulette update: Yassen's conversation with John towards the end of Командир (The Commander) genuinely made me tear up a bit. Y'all if I hadn't started shipping them at the start of Eagle Strike the first time I saw them interact this scene would've 100% convinced me because the way Yassen was so hesitant about working for Scopia at the start and had considered his other options, but now that John is tutoring him he desperately wants to prove his loyalty and competency. In the jungle John tells him he could leave if he wanted to, Scorpia had taught him enough about disguise - all this he had considered before himself, yet when John brings it up Yassen immediately shoots it down, becomes agitated. Why? Because he feels like John is questioning his competency. Remember what he said? "I can do this." John wants Yassen to not have to walk down the same path that he did, but ironically he is the reason Yassen even cares so much about succeeding in Scorpia in the first place. His cover worked a bit too well and now Yassen has a very fixed idea of who John is, and he will do anything to prove himself to his version of John.
You get it, right? The way they want completely different things out for each other, completely incompatible things, because they do not understand each other. These types of dynamics really just eat me up from the inside
#chaotic ramblings#alex rider#russian roulette#yassen gregorovich#john rider#man they really need a ship name i need SOMETHING to tag these posts with#the fact that yassen's relationship with john is very much personal to him even though he would never admit it#and it just so happens that to him john is basically an embodiment of scorpia#and he wants to impress john so by proxy he decides the best way to do that is to prove himself to scorpia#do you get it. do you get the dynamic#the tension in that scene was phenomenal i felt like i was reading fanfiction#which i suppose means that every fic author in this fandom does a wonderful job of capturing their relationship#just. the way yassen is so on edge whenever john says something about how he could still leave if he wanted to. before it's too late#the way he is so confused as to why john would bring this up because it doesnt fit with the very fixed idea he has in his mind about#who john is. the way he says “i killed some of them” as if to say see? i am like you. i can be like you. please give me a chance#his admiration for and attachment to john is so incredibly unhealthy which is unsurprising given that he has not had a normal#relationship of any sort since he was 14 and everyone he knew died#he wants so badly to be who he thinks john wants him to be. and that means that he will never be who he wants to be or who john wants him t#be or who he thinks john wants him to be. he is pursuing something that just doesn't exist#god i am so normal about these two
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wilsonssluttywaist · 1 month
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*Gets up on podium* HUDSON 🗣️📢🔊
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twinstxrs · 1 month
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boo *exu calamity au’s your bad kids*
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infizero · 3 months
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with robotnik officially returning in the third movie, i think he and stone should finally make out sloppy style on screen. that's the logical progression from their dynamic so far
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the push and pull of MSR in the cancer arc
Louise Glück, from Marathon / The X-Files 4×14, Memento Mori / Phoebe Bridgers, Moon Song / 4x17, Tempus Fugit / I've Been Thinking Of Ending Things, dir. Charlie Kaufman / 4×18, Max / Sue Zhao (@beamusing) / 4×22, Elegy / Lucy Dacus, Historians / Ocean Vuong, Into the Breach
#the way every time i do something cancer arc i end up deep in scully's pov...#i had room for one thing but it didn't work out so i want to mention Bag of Bones by Mitski which i had on loop while making this#i just... they go back and forth so much#being so soft and yet so tense and holding each other a little apart even though they want to be close#the way they hurt each other without even meaning to but comfort each other without consciously trying#it's simply so much.#there's so much they want to but can't won't say that they're scared of saying and it SHOWS#both in the moments they snap or push away and in the times they hold each other close#scully says it in elegy! ''he's been a great source of strength for me'' but when karen asks if she's told him that fhe truth is she hasn't#and that's so much of their struggle is that they dont know if they can say all they mean to each other#so you end up with the tension and pain of wanting nothing more than to be together and have that safety and comfort#but not knowing if it's allowed and okay and how much it might hurt in the end#they need each other but they're losing each other but they're also becoming closer in an agonizing new way#he's the ONLY person she called#you ever think of that scene in memento mori where they're on the phone and she says ''right now the truth is in me''#and mulder immediately replies with "i will be right there'' so soft and certain because in that moment#she IS the truth and she is the only thing that matters#and then how she starts to pull away throughout the arc and isolate herself and that causes pain for both of them#and is part of why mulder is a bit of a jerk in gethsemane#but he never fully lets her pull away and she still leans on him she still has him and that doesn't change!!!#it's the push and pull of it all#Lu rambles#txf#the x files#msr#dana scully#fox mulder#usermoody#userscully#usermulder
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omgeto · 7 months
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☆ THRILL (h)ER! — SATOSUGU X READER
summary: when watching a scary movie with your two best friends, you cant help but hold onto them tight every time you get jumpscared. but as the night goes on and your fingers roam... wait, what movie were you watching again?
wc: 3.3k (its alll smut guys so give me a medal)
cw: double penetration, praising, slight degradation, gojo and geto bickering, fingering, dirty talk (?) and some fun loving you're their pretty little princess. afab!reader, MDNI
an: guys look I finally posted a fic for kinktober, yay me, I hope you like it since Id say the smut on this one hits different sooo give it a chance. also only big brains will understand the fic title.
KINKTOBER M.LIST.
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your best friends, gojo and geto always have a way of making you feel right at home, especially when you find yourself in your favourite spot on the couch – sandwiched between them. geto's embrace is a gentle yet possessive one, his arms wrapped around you in a tender hold that radiates warmth, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your lower back.
to your side, gojo's long limbs seamlessly entwine with yours. your legs stretch over to meet him, creating an intimate tangle of limbs. his fingers trail leisurely up and down your thighs, their teasing caresses sending delightful shivers through your body. it's a familiar and electric sensation that's become an unspoken language among the three of you—one that hasn’t fully been enacted upon… yet.
"i don't know why you insist we watch this movie every year," geto complains, his gaze locked onto his b est friend, a playful frustration in his tone. "you're so predictable."
"oh, don't be a bore," gojo retorts, matching geto's glare before shifting his attention down to you. his voice is laced with mischief as he speaks to you. "you find it fun, don't you?" 
“what? do i like crappy slashers from the 80s with big titted damsels running from a shitly costumed killer?” you deadpan, your sarcasm evident. you could feel the vibration from geto as he lowly chuckles. gojo’s face forms a pout that prompts you to quickly add, “but i love them.”
gojo’s pout transforms into a triumphant grin as your admission earns you a playful nudge from him. “that’s my girl,” he exclaims, giving your thigh an excited rub as he turns on the movie.
geto, still chuckling softly, leans in closer. “well, i suppose if toru enjoys it, we can endure it one more time.” his words carry a hint of tenderness, his arm around you tightening ever so slightly, puling you closer into his embrace.                                                                            
you watch the movie in a comfortable silence, the only noise coming from the tv and gojo's oddly placed screams that you've come to expect every year. his over-the-top reactions to jump scares and gruesome scenes never fail to amuse you, and it's a source of endless entertainment for both you and geto.
geto, on the other hand, watches the movie with a more stoic expression, occasionally shaking his head at the implausible plot twists and unrealistic gore. His hand continues to rest on your thigh, his fingers now tracing soothing patterns as if to counterbalance the tension on the screen.
as the movie progresses, you notice how both gojo and geto steal glances at you when they think you're not looking, as their innocent touches progress into heavy petting. but there's a moment where you all pause, their movements stop, and you all look at each other as the loud sounds of exaggerated moans blare from the screen.
“i always forget this scene is in there,” gojo lies, with a snicker, an appreciative smile forming on his face as he watches the scene.gojo's arm remains draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your arm, while geto's touch has grown increasingly intimate, his hand resting on your hip, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles.
“oh don’t bullshit satoru,” geto accuses, taking his hand off of you for a second to send a jab into gojo’s side, “i know you’re getting off on watching this ditzy blonde getting laid.”
“not true,” gojo retorts childishly, “i think there’s better sights to get off on, isn’t that right?” he finishes casting his eyes, not so subtly, over to you.
“well i can’t lie and say the sights aren’t… appealing,” geto grins his hands coming back on you, toying with the hem of your shirt.
“you two are such guys,” you laugh, trying to remain nonchalant even though on the inside the pace of your heart was quickening, and every touch of their fingers sends jolts straight to your core. “you’re focusing on the wrong things here.”
“and what should we be focusing on here?” geto murmurs at you, you couldn’t see his face but you knew a smirk was plastered across it. his challenge hangs in the air as you pause, hesitating as you scan the room, your eyes meeting gojo’s trying to gauge if they are thinking what you are. geto can sense your hesitation as he feels your breathing still as you lean against him, so he pulls his finger under your chin turning your head to face him. “let us focus on you, come here.”
you lean in, his lips enclosing on yours in a deep kiss, you turn your body almost straddling him so you could get better access. his tongue enters your mouth, as his hands work down your body, and as the kiss intensifies, you’re aware of gojo’s gaze on you. you extend an inviting hand toward him, flashing him a smile as you pull away from geto and set your lips on your other friend.
gojo groans as your lips work with his, and his hands go straight into his pants, fisting his dick that has been hard all night just at the sight of you. geto cascades kisses down your neck as he starts to pull your shirt up off of you, you gasp at the feeling of both of their hands and lips all over you.
“h-how long have you two been planning this one then, huh?” you grin, a laugh escaping through your moans, as you let geto get rid of your shirt, assisting gojo with taking off your pants. 
“how long have we known you?” geto responds rhetorically, and gojo nod in agreement, as they both take off their jogging bottoms, leaving you all sitting on the couch in your underwear. there is no more hesitation, or uncertainty between you three—you all know exactly what you want.
“so who gets to have me first?” you joke, your eyes darting between the two of them, their lustful eyes are unmistakable as they stare at your body, their dicks straining against their boxers ready to be suffocated by your tight pussy.
“i get to!” gojo sputters out quickly, but he’s not as swift as geto who’s already pulled you back onto him, his fingers pushing into you without any warning. your mouth parts, as you let out a whine, as his long digits give your pussy fast, relentless strokes, he adds another finger, smirking as your body buckles against his. “hey no fair!” gojo pouts, side eyeing geto, but he can’t help biting his lip as he hears your cunt squelch everytime his best friend shoves his fingers into it.
“don’t worry, ‘toru,” geto reassures, his fingers curling up into you before he pulls it out swiftly, spreading your pussy apart and giving gojo a knowing look, “there’s room for the both of us.”
gojo eagerly drives his fingers into you from behind, his body pressing against yours as he charges your fingers into you. your moans increase as you feel a flurry of digits explore your pussy, gojo’s hand grips on his shoulder and geto hand holds your waist as they both tug your body back and forth in an attempt to get you closer to them.
“s-shit” you cry out, as you clench around their fingers, trying to keep them inside of you. you grind down against both of their fingers, your whimpers encouraging them to twist and push their fingers deeper into you.
“you see how much of a mess she gets for us?” geto asks gojo with a low chuckle, and gojo nods, smiling as the wetness of your pussy allows for his fingers to slide into you with ease, “press down on her clit. hard.”
“don’t tell me what to do,” gojo mutters, but he does it anyway. his thumb going straight to your clit, pushing down on it, smirking as you groan your back arching right into him. 
“see i told you,” geto chimes, laughing as gojo glares at him. geto’s focus shifts to you, as he pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to your mouth, he holds your chin, placing his thumb on your bottom lip as he raises his eyebrows at you for permission. you nod lazily, opening your mouth, accepting two of his fingers —which are drenched in your juices. “‘toru, you gonna finish her off for me.”
gojo smirks, his fingers working in overdrive, as he adds another digit inside of you and you could feel yourself about to release. geto can tell you're close from the way you bite down on his fingers. “you close? you gonna cum on satoru’s fingers as you taste yourself?”
you couldn’t even respond, as your cum sprays all over gojo’s fingers and geto’s stomach. the boys both smirk at each other, as they hear your high pitched moans and see heaps of your cum spilling out of your pussy running down your thighs. gojo is in awe, his fingers still remain in you and he pushes them up lazily, trying to keep you plugged with your cum. you relax onto his fingers, letting him do as he pleases, as you try and catch your breath your body slumping onto geto’s.
“you did so well,” geto praises in his air, lifting up your head off your chest, pecking your lips softly. “you took both of our fingers letting us stretch your tight pussy, it felt good didn’t it?” 
“y-yeah it felt so good sugu,” you sigh, turning your head to face gojo, as you pull him closer into you, “you both felt so good.”
“you wanna let us stuff you further?” gojo questions eagerly, his hard dick resting on your ass, as rocks against you.
“satoru,” geto reprimands, shaking his head at his friends over excitement. but gojo shoots him a look shrugging as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, practically inhaling you.
“but suguru, she wants us both to stuff her,” he argues, as fingers already go back to your sobbing cunt. “you want that dont you?” he whispers, directly in your ear, slowly coaxing your pussy with soft strokes as he murmurs in your ear. “you want me and sugu to shove our dicks right up your pussy, together.”
“i don’t know if i can…” you hesitate, your voice faltering, but you pull your lip between your teeth, closing your eyes as you think about taking both of them.
“c’mon pretty girl,” geto persuades you, forcing you to open your eyes and look at the teasing smirk on your face, “don’t think we don’t know how slutty you can be. you know your greedy little cunt take both of us with ease, and you want it to, don't you?” you nod your head slowly in agreement, but geto shakes his, “no, we need to hear you say it. use your words. tell us what you want.”
“i want your dicks to stuff my pussy,” you admit, feeling your confidence grow as the smirk on geto’s face widens and you can hear gojo lowly growl in your ear. “i need it.”
“well we have to give our girl what she wants, right sugu?” gojo taunts, pulling you off of gojo and onto his lap, his dick slaps against your pussy. “suguru got to see your pretty face, before, so this time you’re all mine, okay?” gojo says to you, and you could hear geto kiss his teeth, but he obliges letting gojo have his way this time. 
“you ready for me?” gojo asks, waiting for your approval as he lifts you up slightly over his dick, he even looks over to geto he leans back against the couch, with his dick in his hand. you don’t even answer gojo, sliding down onto gojo as you moan together.
geto fists his dick at the sight, “go on satoru, fuck her,” he orders, his strokes increasing as he watches as gojo begin to thrust into you. your hands press down on gojo’s shoulder’s as you start to bounce on him, you lean forward whining straight in his ear, causing him fuck you harder.
gojo plays with your bra strap, pulling it and letting it release against your shoulder, “i don’t know why you’ve still got this on,” he complains, as brings his hands to the clasp of your bra, undoing it. your tits bounce as he pulls off your bra, and both boys smile at the sight. gojo’s fingers pull against both of your nipples, twisting and pulling at them causing you to cry at every tug. “so sensitive,” he mutters to himself, touching your tits inquisitively as he continues to toy with them, loving how with every touch your cries grow louder.
“it’s crazy how we stretched you so well earlier, but your pussy is still tight as fuck,” gojo comments, his words punctuated with every thrust. “i had all my fingers inside of you already, but your cock hungry cunt just can’t seem to get enough.”
“is he fucking you good?” geto calls, feeling himself about to cum, as he rubs against his dick hard. you look over to him and smile, nodding quickly as you wrap your hands around gojos neck, clinging to him as his dick drives into you. geto stands up, coming up behind you pressing a kiss on your neck, “you need me to help get you off?”
“she doesn’t need anything from you, i’m doing just fine,” gojo mumbles, but he lets you slightly raise up off of his dick and he smirks as he feels geto join him, geto’s dick presses against gojo in excitement as they wait in anticipation for you to enclose them with your pussy. 
“don’t be nervous,” geto coos from behind you, nipping at your ear. you look at gojo and he gives you an encouraging nod, and you slide back down onto them hissing in slight pain as you feel them both enter you. “it’s okay pretty, you’re doing so so well,” geto continues to reassure you, pressing soothing kisses down your neck, his lips sucking at your flesh. you all pause as you fully take them both in, and you feel the pain subside smiling at gojo giving him permission to move. 
geto follows suit, and you all move in tandem, fucking against each other. gojo places his hands on your ass, pushing your cheeks in pace with his movements whereas geto’s hands cup your tits, holding them firmly as he spreads his fingers over your nipples, rolling them.
“fu-fuck you two are too big, you can’t” you whine, clawing against gojo’s chest. they were both drilling into you relentlessly, you couldn’t catch your breath as every second you were being double stuffed with dick. tears spring to your eyes, as you cry out in pleasure, grinding down against them trying to get as much as them as possible. 
“if only you could see how slutty our girl looks,” gojo says to geto, as he watches your head fall back, another moan escaping your lips. “her eyes are all glossed over, she’s fucking crying, all slutted out on our dicks right now.”
“is that so?” geto mutters, he forces himself into you deeper, his back hitching up against yours, his clench on your tits tightening as he inches himself in your pussy, his hips slapping against you. “she’s such a good slut, i knew she’d be able to take us well, and look she’s loving it, already creaming all over us, isn’t that baby?”
you nod, your hand coming up to hold geto’s head as he nestles into your neck. you were losing your train of thought, you wanted to tell them how good they felt, how their dicks rubbing against each other in you was all you needed for the rest of you life, but when you open your mouth all that can leave your lips is incoherent words and moans. 
both of them smile, watching as you come undone on their dicks. gojo gives geto a nod, and their hands trade places. gojos fingers coming back to your tits, rubbing and pushing them apart before lowering his head to your chest, nuzzling your boobs. gojo and geto were so close that some things between them didn’t need to be spoken, and they were so close to you that they knew your body in and out. they knew when to push and pull, and where to suck just to get you cumming their lap.
“i’m s-so close, i’m gonna cu—” you try and speak out, but your mind is too far gone for you to finish. their dicks slip out of you as your bounces become sloppy, the pleasure too much for you but geto forces you back muttering reassurance in your neck. and the sudden contact causes you to cum, you release all over both them, but they don’t stop their movements, their dicks driving into you still, pushing back in all the cum you were letting out.
“satoru, we gonna give our girl one final stuffing?” geto prompts, and gojo nods, they both give you one final push and you could feel your pussy stretch as their cum sprays your walls. you wail out, the tears streaming your face as your body jerks forward, feeling their dicks go limp inside of you as you all pant in pleasure.
“that was fucking amazing,” gojo praises, a blissful smile on his face as he leans back his head resting on his arms. you return his smile, your lips meeting his in a quick kiss, that he groans at as you pull away. you come off his dick slowly, all of your eyes staring at the ropes of cum that immediately spill out of your pussy as he unplugs you. 
geto turns your head to face him, his dick still lodged deeply inside of you, he pulls you into a long kiss, his mouth smothering yours. he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, roughly biting down on it before releasing you, his hand cupping your chin, forcing you to stare up at him “you’re mine, my pretty slutty mess.”
“um she’s ours,” gojo chimes in, but geto shrugs, not caring to listen to your other friend. geto, finally pulls you off his dick, and your pussy clenches around nothing, already missing the feeling of their dicks.
“you too always know to take good care of me,” you exhale, exhausted your pussy sore about being stretched open by the two of them. geto pulls you back into his original hold, leaning back against his chest, and your legs stretch over gojo’s lap. but this time instead of innocent gentle touches, geto’s hands lazily tug at your nipples, and gojo caresses your naked thighs, his fingers flicking at your clit every now and again.
“that’s what friends are for,” geto muses, pressing his lips against your cheek before saying, “now satoru, are you gonna press play on this shitty movie or what?”
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AN: ight so there you have it my FIRST FIC of kinktober, what do you guys think I need to hear all your thoughts since Ooooof this took me so long to write. so I hope it is worth it. also if you see my bias towards geto during this then LOOK AWAY, im sorry gojo stans but im a geto lover foreverrr. but yeahhh lmk ur thoughts stay tuned for my other kink tober fics which WILL be on time I promise smooches.
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afraidboy · 10 months
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crying during succession again
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months
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You're my favorite writer, and König is my favorite aussie man, so OF COURSE im making you write for him, hal, BEAR W ME !
Alright, what do you think about König with the “You’re here late.” prompt? The reader is part of KorTac and always worked alongside König, since they both entered about the same time, because of the readers personality, they are always fighting, one of these fights are specifically bad, leading the reader to go on a mission with another KorTac member, to help out somewhere else and take their mind off things, when the reader face a problem on the mission and ends up arriving late, König is furious.
Moths Hit the Window
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PAIRING: König x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Fights with König were always loud, but this time his comments went a bit too far.
WORD COUNT: 5.9k
WARNINGS: Verbal fighting, angst, high tension, blood & stitches, wounds, canon typical violence, guns/weapons, death, suggestive near the end, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc.
A/N: Huge thanks to @idocarealot for the German translations!! Also, König's wearing the arachnid skin in this because I love it sm - enjoy, Anon!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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You seethe. If eyes could turn red yous would be a beautiful shade of crimson—bloody knives ripping out of the cornea to strike whoever happened to get too close. It was as if the very air boiled with the force of a raging tsunami as you stomped down the local military base’s hallways, covered in blood and guts. Never had you reconsidered working for KorTac more than at this very moment. 
Maybe I should just become a mercenary, you rip at the torn-apart gloves over your hands and jerk your arm out. Passerbyers quickly avert their eyes as you shove them into a garbage can and continue on with a growl. No shitty rules, no regulations—no fucking partners.
If people happened to slide past without noticing the steam coming out of your ears, they would have immediately locked eyes on the pure elephant of a man trailing fast behind. König’s eyes were goring into the back of your neck, gray and tan garb swaying as the packs and flash grenades on his combat vest bounced with every step. Accents of red do nothing in comparison to his visible flesh—the section of his eyes uncovered by his mask and head rig alight around his obsidian gaze. 
 König was muttering to himself far under his breath, curses and harsh comments all in German that he wouldn’t say to your face. At least not right now in view of others. 
“I can hear you, you dimwit,” you hiss over your shoulder, grinding your teeth as you both make your way to the armory, “curse me out quieter!” 
“You are making a scene!” The beast grunts, that heavily accented English striking your eardrums with its harsh dialect. 
“Oh, jeez!” You raise your voice even higher, turning back forward and clenching your hands into fists as blood and guts drip off your gear—none of it yours. “I’m just so damn embarrassed, König! I’m making such a large and obnoxious display. Whatever will I do?!” Sarcasm like a valuable drug is injected into the waves of your voice. People from open doorways look out with shock, brows pulled up. 
Everyone quickly darts back away when you snap your head in their direction and send them a scathing glare.
No one was surprised to find you and the Austrian going at it again but knew well enough to stay out of the crossfire. Lest someone get roped into it.
“Fuck off!” You spit the last curse into the burning air and shove past a soldier ahead of you.
König’s dark eyes flash dangerously, lips under his mask twisting into a sneer. The man’s shoulders seem to dig in even farther, spine curling over as if a brooding child. 
This had all started the second you’d joined up with KorTac. Fresh out of the military and eager to get back into the game after a good vacation the PMC group had been at the top of your list. But if you’d known you’d be paired up with this damn mountain every chance there was just because he’d got into the game at nearly the same time as you, you’d have put in your luck with SpecGru. 
“I do not see how this is appropriate behavior,” König follows as you place your palms on the black metal of the armory door, pressing with your shoulders. “I did what I was tasked to do—”
The masked man is cut off as you whirl on your heels, the door slamming shut as his body is shoved into it with strong arms. Dark eyes go wide in surprise, feeling the dig of your nails on his abdomen as your form presses into him and the chill of the door on his spine. You feel his skin bunch under his thick shirt and even if you want to stare him down that’s just not an option. Your warm figures shuffle together with panting breaths and dangerous glints in your eyes. 
“Bull,” you drag out the word, growling it right up into his neck; sniper hood caressing your chin. König’s breath hitches with shakes of swirling emotions. “Shit.”
Shoving once more so he gets the point, you push off of him and stalk away like a feral wolf, already unclipping grenades and medical packs from your vest. 
“You’re the damn reason the target got away!” Gear is thrown haphazardly to the long table in the center of the room. The Austrian watches with predatory eyes, hands clenched so hard that they quiver. He stays still, watching, as you send scathing glances. “The reason we’re going to be here for ten times longer than we’re supposed to be!” 
“It is not my fault you failed to properly check the perimeter before you rushed in like a fool.” Volatile couldn’t be used to describe this…this was nothing short of volcanic. It was as if there were two sides of a scale filled with bullets and gunpowder—fire in the middle that was equally heating both piles as they raised and lowered erratically. König’s voice grates over the air, “I did what I could to fix your scheiße plan!”
“Don’t you shit on my plan!” You point, voice bouncing off the weapon racks as you rip the rifle strap from over your chest, chucking it away. 
“I will shit on it—it was…it was…!”  König’s voice cuts out and he can’t find the words. The Austrian descends into visceral German ramblings. “Es war so ziemlich der schlechteste Plan, den ich je gehört hab. Welcher halbwegs vernünftige Mensch geht in eine heiße Zone ohne vorher alle Zielobjekte richtig zu markieren?! Ich kann dich und deine Rücksichtslosigkeit nicht mehr leiden — du bringst mich um meinen Verstand! Hast du überhaupt ein Gehirn in deinem Schädel?”
You shake your head to yourself, heart pounding. “You’re still the one that was supposed to focus on the HVT. I rushed so he would flush out, but, no,” taking out the magazine of the rifle you hold it in your hands like an accusatory ruler that a teacher would hold. König shoves off the door and stands to his full height; arms tensed and straining before they coil around his chest in a soothing gesture. 
He hated the fighting—the constant strain between the two of you. But when you were together it could never amount to anything else. The room felt like it was a million degrees.
Your eyes stab at him, “No! You had to go and focus on me! I hate to break this to you,  König,” feet come forward and you once again find yourself close to him—breathing the same air and taking in the scent of gunpowder and blood. You point the tip of the magazine into his chest. His unseen lips pull; jaw clenching with held-back fire. “But I am not your damn mutt to keep on a leash. I had it under control.”
It’s as if you don’t realize the Austrian could snap you in half with a single kick of his leg, as if the sheer size of König had slipped your mind as a whole. His hands could snap your neck in an instant, but that was only if he got ahold of you. 
But that was a line the both of you were never planning to cross. Words were one thing in this profession, actions another. If you ever got into a physical fight, you’d both kill each other, no doubt. 
You’d like to think you’re a bit above that, but perhaps not.
König’s chest rises and falls deeply, taking in calming breaths as he tries to get his temper under control. “You didn’t,” he jeers out, “I saved your life, you Heißluftgebläse. And if you wanted to be treated less than a dog,” he grunts to you, head pulling down close to your face, harshly whispering out, “You could have simply asked me, yes?”
You both snarl at each other's throats like rabid animals, the world disappearing all around the obsidian eyes that match with yours; for a moment you get lost in the shining bits of silver in his iris that seem to burn with chilled iron. What little skin you can see is flushed and tight—hawk nose nearly poking out your eye as you’re leaned over like a giraffe near a bush.
Body vibrating, you sharply breathe, “I’m not even going to ask what that fucking means, you tool.”
“Good.” The words are bitten and fast, “because I am not telling you.”
“Great!”
“Perfekt!” You both were arguing like children. Hot faces and unwilling to let the other have the last word. If you got along it might have been funny. 
“I’m going to dump all of your Einspänner out on the tarmac.” Your sure voice echoes with a definitive promise to the tone. 
Pale lids widen in horror at the threat to the Austrian's favorite beverage, comfortably sitting in the Base’s fridge. 
“You would not,” König’s tone is deathly serious and you smirk, eyes dancing. “You…” a guttural growl meets the air, mind translating words and giving meanings, “beast of a woman!”
“Oh, is that the best you can fucking do?!” You yell, splaying your hands out widely and moving away from him. “Now that’s really a show stopper, König, I’m shaking in my damn boots.” 
“Ich komm mit dir nicht mehr klar.” König yells, moving back and placing both of his hands atop his head, knuckles white. “You’re rude—you do not even try to get along. You are loud and disrespectful; how do you live like this?!”
Your eyes slightly widen, watching the Austrian.
“Don’t try?” You echo, scoffing loudly. “What do you mean don’t try? I was the one to try and smooth things out between us in the beginning.”
“When?!” König spreads his hands out, knees slightly bent. “Because I have no recollection of such events.”
“Well of course you wouldn’t!” The heat was meeting a breaking point—words were getting more personal, sharper. Like a blade being honed for the kill slowly; being sharpened by rocks and whetstones of conviction. 
König points a finger at you, voice going low and thin, “I’ve had enough of you, yes?” His sniper hood moves rapidly with his fast ricochets of breath. “Just about enough. Would you have wanted me to let you die?”
“I had it,” your lips spit, nose scrunched, and forehead tight. The man’s chest vibrates with a mute growl. 
In all actuality, you’d never seen him this worked up before. König wasn’t above giving your quips back even if he obviously disliked it—most of that was due to the strange familiarity between the two of you. In large crowds, the man preferred to stay silent. This only added to his almost deadly aura with others, though you knew the muteness was because of social anxiety and not some built silence. He wasn’t shy per se, just afraid he’d say something wrong; mess up the conversation. You did most of the talking in meetings and you never minded it. Added him in when the topic was something he knew a lot about.
Your mind had addled it up to thinking it was cute, actually. How his feet would shuffle; his half-lidded gaze and his intense eye contact to let them know he was still listening. When he’d have to remind himself to look away with a pinch to his thigh because it was starting to seem threatening. It was endearing, even.
But around people König knew, well, he was going to speak his mind. No matter how long it takes his brain to catch up with his lips.
The only thing the two of you were good at was being moths—hitting the metaphorical window over and over on the same topics and tension points. Slamming heads and flapping wings. You were at the end of your rope just as he was.
“I should have never taken you as a partner!” He calls, feet splayed. “Should have gotten out of this the second you were assigned with me. Gott, ich hab wirklich versucht, dich zu verstehen — Ich hätte gleich aufgeben sollen.” Your lips thin, lungs stalling as all the air vacates the room. You stand still and listen to what he really thinks, fingers shaking.
König’s large form towers over all, great sparks of electricity flying out. His gear shakes as he moves, thigh straps pushing fabric to shift and conform to his body. Your blood pumps with brewing hesitance. 
Maybe this had gone too far. I’ve never seen him like this.
“I can’t stand you any longer! Pathetic squabbles that mean nothing, absolutely ludicrous plans that make little headway.” Your head bursts with aggression and what little warning signs you have are squashed. “I can’t keep saving you because you can’t do your job correctly!”
“You don’t have to save me at all!” You scream. “You can’t keep your damn eyes off of me for five seconds, König.” Feet move away quickly from the armory door as if someone had come to put away their stuff but thought better of it. The next words burst from you before you can think of the contents. “It’s like you fucking love me or something!”
König doesn’t miss a beat, but for months afterward, he wishes he had.
“Oh, do not make me laugh—” he scoffs ferally, adrenaline making him talk, “as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place.” 
Twin eyes widen and both parties immediately fall silent. A sharp inhale.
Too far.
Under the hood, König’s face goes an embarrassing shade of red all the way down to his chest. Fingers freeze. Jaw slackens.
You feel like your heart was just grasped in his grip and ripped out of your ribs with one violent motion—one sentence out of all the others enough to knock down the rebuttal that had formed on the tip of your tongue. Your throat closes up as you blink in shock.
“I-I…” König stutters, mind blanking as he struggles for words. But anger was easier than pain.
Numb fingers rip off the last of your weapons and belongings as you let them hit the floor with defining thuds as warm shame floods your cheeks. Shaky puffs of breath like a panting dog. Dark eyes watch with regretful panic, heart jumping and eyes flinching. The adrenaline it…it made him forget himself on occasion—how to properly act when not on the battlefield. It was like that with everyone but…but he hadn’t meant that.
Shame that it’s already too late.
Your fisted hand slams into his chest, brutal and unforgiving. König lets off a grunt but does nothing as you slither past, hissing into his ear, “Find yourself a new punching bag.”
His hand snaps to his breast where you had slammed your KorTac patch right into his heart, catching it. It’s many moments before he can think enough through the alarm; form words.
“I…I didn’t…oh, du blöde Kuh!” 
By the time the man composed himself, panicked tears burning in his eyes, the door had already slammed shut. His feet squeaked over the tile to an empty audience. 
Private Military Companies don’t have ranks. There are no Sergeants, Lieutenants, Generals or Colonels. Just people. Beyond the orders you’d been hired on, there was nothing keeping you in line with König on this mission. And those orders were loose at best.
Adhere to policy and listen to the Base’s COs. Shut up and get the job done. 
The Austrian and you weren’t due out for another week because of rotations. Since you’d failed to capture or kill the HVT that you were assigned, another group had picked up the tracks in the meantime. Like an oiled machine, the gears of this operation kept whirling. 
Evolve, or die. 
“Lieutenant!” You call to the geared-up man on the tarmac—the one heading that very same group. It had been only a few hours since the incident in the armory. You needed a distraction; blood was still running high and brain pounding for release. There were only so many times you could bruise your fists and legs on a punching bag before people started giving you nervous looks. “Need an extra hand?”
Your voice sounds strained, even to you. The man looks you over once and narrows his eyes. Nods not moments later. 
“Get tired of your big friend? Okay, how fast can you be ready for me?” You feel your shoulders loosen, a relieved sigh exiting your lips.
“Three minutes.”
“...get to it then. We move in five.” 
So that was how you found yourself backed into a corner five hours into the op from hell—bloody knife held tightly in your grip and mouth open in ragged pants. 
“Fuck,” your vest is torn and riddled with bullets; your entire chest must be bruised by now because it surely aches like it is. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
You really are reckless, just like König had said you were. Maybe you’d just never realized it because he always seemed to watch your six. This…this was really bad. The comms were awash with screaming orders and panic, ringing out across the abandoned mining factory that exploded with light from gunfire and the sounds that accompanied it. You knew for a fact three soldiers were down; two KIA. 
The Lieutenant is one of them. 
Your hand snaps to the radio strapped to your chest, one eye squinted in pain at the ragged slice across your left brow line. At your feet, two heavily armed men lay dead. 
“Pull back! They knew we were coming!” But your word didn’t carry weight here. Your face twists between pain and rage. König’s comment still rings in your ears as the onset of tinnitus does, as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place. It wasn’t ideal to be thinking about this now—it was detrimental that you didn’t. 
But König and the things he did often stained your brain. No matter how much you tried to distance yourself from that fact. 
Snapping the knife in your grasp down in an arch to dispel the blood from the blade, you take a steel-laced inhale and shove off the wall. Limping, but moving. Sprained ankle. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.
The concrete under you is splattered with crimson viscera and you stumble over spasming bodies riddled with bullets. With a subdued shink you slip your knife into its thigh sheath, grabbing the FTac Recon strapped around your chest after slamming a fresh mag into it. With a numb calm overcoming you, you slip your forefinger into the trigger guard, poised over the easy press of the trigger itself. 
The long shadows spread over you; your head illuminated by the dull sheen of the moon as you pass under a stretch of open sky to slink into the building across the empty street. Feral yells still bounce off the air and you go to them readily, purpose settling in your veins. 
Pain flies to the back of your mind, displaced by adrenaline and the rabid puffs of breath that fall like grinding thunder from your lips.  
You wonder what König’s thinking right now—he’d without a doubt noticed that you were gone. He’d even probably gone to your barracks room to try and apologize and found it empty. That was just how he was. 
Would he be happy? You wondered. Relieved to see you out of his life? You’d both done nothing but fight, but there were moments of peace. Understanding. 
Shared meals and comfortable, yet sarcastic, comments; soft glances when the other wasn’t looking. Heat in your face and obviously shown on his when shy hands brushed. 
Your hold tightens on your gun, brows dripping with sweat as it dribbles down along with the blood. Gunfire flashes. 
Closer now.
Shadows scream on top of a raised walkway attached to an in-mountain compound, targets with trigger fingers firing on your fellows who take cover behind crumbling walls. Pinned down. You watch, unseen, from a broken window as dust and moths collide. 
Your eyes lock on the closest hostile and you raise your weapon slowly, barrel resting on the frame between shattered glass. You clock the distance and adjust accordingly; breaths falling steady. 
The small insect that keeps hitting the window plays in your mind over and over—drowning out the yells; the fire. 
Just a moth readily willing to smash into that barrier until it dies. You hum under your breath and rest the gun into the crook of your shoulder, cheek to stock. 
Your finger slams into the trigger. 
You stumble out of the loud infirmary with a bloody rag pressed deeply into your forehead, medical pouch under one arm. You hear rushing feet and barked orders from nurses and doctors just before the door closes, cutting off as you stake out on your own.
Limping, you reason there were others with more severe wounds than your own; as blood drips from your flooded rag, your feet take you deep into the base one broken step at a time. You’d figure it out yourself. 
Plus, the silence would give you time to think. Think about König. 
You just gritted your teeth and decided that was better than taking up space in the infirmary. 
In times like these, the Austrian would fix your wounds for you, just as you did his. While you had your disagreements and heated fights, he’d never made it as personal as he had hours beforehand. Never made it hurt. 
“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your other crusty hand over the mud along your chin. Everything ached and you don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. 
Flinching along like a downed bird, you shove through into the last door into the barracks; thoughts now stuck on finding a chair to sit down on before your legs gave out. The darkness of the common area was deep—staining your eyelids as you grunt, bumping into the back of the couch. 
It’s almost funny the way the lamp flicked on mere moments later. 
You hiss, eyes snapping shut as the rays attack your sight, rendering you blind for a moment. The shaking hand on your dripping rag tightens before the spark of pain makes you lighten the pressure. 
There’s a dark grunt just as you open your eyes back up.
“You are late.” König. 
He sits in one of the chairs—sniper hood still over his head yet only clothed in a large compression shirt and casual camo pants. Like a disappointed parent, the Austrian’s arms were crossed over his chest; feet resting out and crossed at the ankles. With such a big stature the look could strike fear into anyone. 
Anyone but you, that is. 
König’s dark eyes rove over you, stopping immediately on the fabric you keep to your forehead. The previous, furious, tone stops and the flash of very real concern takes precedence. His hands tighten on his biceps, thighs tensing over the cushion; spine just a little bit straighter. 
You watch and say nothing—dead-faced. 
Your heart suddenly skips beats, stuck into the framework of the man’s eyes. König’s brows peel back and a timid stutter stays in your breast.
“...Vögelchen?” Lids blink rapidly, and before you can register anything because of your blood loss and fatigue, you’re being dragged to the couch and forced to sit down. 
Strong hands encompass your shoulders and small breaths flutter in front of your face as König peels back to kneel in front of you; spying the medical pouch in your under-arm. 
“What is this?” He mutters to you, vision flinching along your body but always dragging back to the bloody rag on your face. “What did you do to yourself?” 
Scarred hands raise before pausing, obsidian eyes staring deeply into yours as if in frantic question. Your own gaze keeps him close, spying on his veiled fear at the sight of your blood and your disappearance. He’d heard about the mission, then, that much was upfront because of his earlier comment. 
The humvee had been late arriving back. Half an hour. 
“Fuck off,” you utter, shoving off the couch before you’re captured in an unyielding press again, shoved down. Your anger spikes along with your unease, “König! I don’t have the patience—”
“I’m sorry.” The fight leaves you. 
Fingers squeeze your biceps, hold lightly shaking with nerves. “I did not mean it.” Obsidian pierces you, “Please, Vögelchen, I am sorry. Utterly. I speak so fast I misplace words—get far more,” words fail as you stare so intently at him, a strange feeling swirling in your gut. König’s face was going crimson again, though not from anger. His tone was deep and honest, accent becoming more whole with emotion. The hands on your skin stay. “Rude than I intend. It is not an excuse, but…”
In the horizontal oval of his hood, you spy the dots of tiny freckles; the whispers of auburn hair. That hawk nose still points violently from behind the fabric. König never finishes his sentence, just takes a large breath and looks to the side after a moment of silence. 
Then he steals the medical pack from your grip and opens the zipper with firm fingers, taking out gloves and gauze. Needle and sutures. It’s all placed on the side table as the bear of an Austrian stays on his knees for you—bending and shifting as the bottom of his shirt rides up. 
It’s a tense affair of touching skin; warmth and hissed curses. Gentle shushing. But you say nothing through it. Until he’s up in your face trying off stitches with forceps and a needle holder, breath making his hood lightly caress your bloodless face. His fingers are large and firm, never second-guessing or stuttering over the course of directing tools that dig a needling and thread into your flesh. 
He’s warm and every motion elicits shivers. You see his form from the side of your eye; his face’s outline as the lamp light illuminates the hood’s fabric. Shadowy silhouette of König’s strong jaw that shifts with every other breath from his wide chest. 
“You’re an asshole for saying that to me, y’know.” you slip your gaze away just as he snaps over. “Adrenaline or not.” 
The needle pauses and a swift nod is given. 
“I…I know it was. No amount of apologizing can explain how very horrible I feel. It was like I was so…so…” An annoyed grunt was leveled at himself.
“Pissed off?” You offer quietly. 
“Yes! Pissed off.” Amused glances were shared, the air slowly smoothing out between the two of you. Dark eyes quickly look away from yours and König clears his throat terse-like. But softer, steadier, “I…could not bear it if I were to see you in harm and be unable to assist you. That…is why I was watching. Why I do watch you.”
Inside of you, it was like there was a pot of water on the stove, steadily boiling under the heat. Your eyes are delicately wide when the man’s hands leave your face; kneeling body still tall enough to stare into you.
“You are…” König pauses, but not to find the words. To ready himself. He takes a long breath. “You are special to me, my Vögelchen. I can not see you hurt,” a gesture to your forehead and creased eyes. As if your pain was his own. “Not like this.”
“What are you saying, König?” You whisper, face twisted with hurt and confusion. Apprehension. “You’re giving me mixed signals. We always fight with each other. I’m not saying I’m blameless, but…c’mon, now. Look at us.” 
“Not…always.” He grumbled like a child, tools placed away and hands dripping blood before he slips the gloves off. They meet the side table with a tiny toss. The Austrian leans back onto his ankles, butt to heel. He begins to look at your forehead and you can practically hear his heart break. “I do not like arguing with you, you know that, yes?” 
“Me neither,” you whisper, fingers fiddling as a sheen of anxiousness sets in. “You just,” you pause, “confuse me.”
 König blinks in surprise, head tilting and large eyes shimmering. Your mind flashes to a curious cat and you try to explain with a burning face and fast lips.
“You say we’re partners but you never act like it,” he stares and listens. When had you both had a conversation like this before? “You make it seem like you can’t trust me to do the simplest task. I’m not,” your voice betrays you, cracking, “I’m not that useless, am I?” 
He freezes, muscles going taunt. 
“U-Useless? Nutzlos? No, no,” A hand comes to capture your chin and you let him move you where he wishes. Creased eyes lock on yours. “That is not right. You’re not useless to me—how could you be?” Pained brows move in, “did I make you think like this? Like I did not appreciate your skills?” 
Your eyes burn, and the aches from your wounds mix with the pure fatigue in your flesh to leave your emotions running between sanity and sadness. A moment later you’re turning your head away. 
König recaptures it, hands finding both sides of your cheeks. He looks shaky; desperate. 
“No, please, Vögelchen, please. I need you to look at me.”
“König, I don’t—” You close your mouth before you let out the beginnings of a sob. “I can’t keep fighting with you.”
“I know, oh, I know,” his hands are so grounding it’s like you’re the inner pages of a book, and his grip the thick leather cover—leather laced with shared scars and the same that had stitched you up countless times. This push and pull had to end. “I cannot fight with you either—it tears me apart. Oh, du weißt gar nicht, wie sehr es mich schmerzt, dein wunderschönes Gesicht anzuschreien. Mit dir zu streiten bedeutet, meinen Verstand und mein Herz gleichzeitig zu brechen.” König’s thumbs run up and down your skin, still bloody with dried flakes falling to the ground. He seems not to care a bit. 
“What can I do to fix this? Anything. Anything to get us to stop doing this to each other.” You stare into his eyes, both creased and glazed over. 
There’s a brief moment where you wonder if anyone truly even knew you as well as König did—there was no one else that you shared such a deep connection with. Years upon years of being stuck at his side. 
And someone else’s hands had never felt as good as his. They were hard and callused over but cupped your face as gently as one would cup water from a rippling stream. His eyes were stars; visible skin like porcelain, his breath raised a large and wide chest with a fast-paced heart. You could sense his throat trapping air. 
König kneeled to you and bared himself. 
Anything, he had said, to fix what he had said. To stop this. 
There was one way you could think to stop this—it might not have been smart, certainly not, but…hmm…You gradually raised your hand raised from your lap and slipped it under the front of König’s hood. 
Slowly, with all the delicateness of a glass dragonfly, your fingers strayed to the side of his neck to press into tight flesh. A rapid pulse.
The man goes to stone. It’s like you’ve stolen his nervous system. Dark eyes stay locked onto yours as you gaze back, hand dragging nails up with a light pressure near to the speed of a slug. 
König whispers your name into the empty space and the oxygen seems to dry up. Warm light from the lamp cast phantoms on walls and over skin in a small moment of foreign discoveries. The Austrian swallows saliva and you feel his neck flex. You don’t answer him, just watch and feel his own hands tighten on your cheeks in warning. 
But you never listen, do you? Reckless you were called. And König had been right.
You were reckless.
Your hand had now explored like a map the indents of hidden facial scars; long and short over jaw and lips. The hand that was doing this had hiked the sniper’s hood up around your wrist so that the man’s lashes were twitching as the fabric got too close to his eyes. And you watched. And so did he. 
A twin pair of moths hitting a glass window, staring from opposite sides at one another until they realized the break in the frame. 
“Anything?” You ask in a loose tone, barely heard above the flood in both of your ears. 
König was breathing heavily but didn’t pull away. Pupils wide and body heavy to your touch. His spine briefly straightened, until he realized he had moved back slightly and immediately hunched again if only to keep your hands on him. 
“I…” he grunts, “A…anything.” Fingers touch his nose, they spread under the hood to trace the bumps and marks he keeps hidden like buried treasure. Your vision takes in the otherworldly hue on his visible skin; the glaze of rapture in his eyes yet still that ingrained heat. 
Your body shivers at the gravel in his accented English. 
Fingers stall over his lips, hood showing you the pale being of König’s strong chin and jaw. You shift your touch to the side and find chapped lips revealed to you, a small palate scar that had healed to nothing more than a line up to his nostril. 
You spare it nothing more than a glance before you look back into obsidian. Dark ether and dead galaxies devoid of stars. Swallowed in a sea of pasts and futures. You look for hesitation; for disgust. 
You find none. 
“You said that no one could ever love someone like me,” your head leans in, and your breath mingles together with an intimacy that had never been shared between this type of partners. König, as if broken from a spell, takes down a swift inhale of air into his stiff lungs. He stares with far back lids. Flashes of unidentified emotions. “Why did you say that?”
A moment of silence and of rabid hearts. The man’s lips twitch over yours as he answers slowly, not breaking eye contact for a moment. As if he did he’d be turned to rock. As if he’d miss something amazing from happening. 
He speaks with a whispered confession.
“Because if they did—I would have to kill them. Because no other than I would be able to love you more.” Your world slows and your ears strain with the breathy words. 
Face burning your lips part with shock and awe. Violent to any other, but to you this was a confession from a man that could meet you blow for blow—calm you and infuriate you all in one. Challenge you, but knew when he’d gone too far and how to properly apologize. 
He’d waited in that chair for you all night, you’d realized. 
For you to come back to him. His partner. 
You press your lips to his and hear his pitiful sounds of gasped reassurance. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you let saliva drip off of your chins to splatter onto bent knees and shaking thighs.
König’s arms cage you; capture your waist and draw you closer, lips breaking apart before you both share a wide-eyed look of momentary pause. There was no room to breathe; to think. Chests hit together and fingers tighten to a tendon-visible hold.
The man's growing smile is wide from where you still hold his hood up by his nose, and with a lick of his red and wet lips, he reconnects your awaiting mouths. 
This time, you’re the one to gasp.
“Lass mich zeigen, wie leid es mir tut, Vögelchen.”
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nanivinsmoke · 1 month
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Rated-R
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saw this art from @/yunonoai on twitter and i cannot stop thinking about it. enjoy ya freaks
roommate!Choso x F!reader
summary ~ when the movie is a little bit more than you both could handle.
warnings and tags ~ porn, mentions of drinking, fingering, oral, sexual tension, nervous choso, teasing, semi-pussyjob, facial, cream pie, degradation, rough sex, squirting, etc~
“what about this one?” you asked, holding up a dvd and showing it to the raven haired male who nodded in approval at your movie selection. popping it into the dvd player, you pressed play and got up from your position on the floor to sit next to choso on the couch.
every friday night the two of you planned to do something with each other, being that it was your only free night out of the week. with you being busy with work and school, and him being busy with work; this was the only time the two of you had for each other.
thanking him for handing you your glass of wine, you relaxed onto the couch and watched the flat screen tv in front of you as it played the movie. The movie starred your favorite actor, satoru gojo. anything he was in automatically became your favorite movie of all time and if he was shirtless, trust you’d go back to the store to get three more copies.
this time it was a romantic comedy and Gojo played the part of the funny charming crush pretty well. while your eyes were glued the to screen, choso couldn’t help but to keep glancing at you from his peripheral.
you were the most beautiful girl that stepped foot on campus, he knew it and everyone sure damn well knew it too. it was no doubt that he had such a huge crush on you. the first time you spoke to him nearly made him cream his pants right there in the study hall.
from that moment on he tried so hard to avoid you, but it’s like fate kept pushing him to you. be it work or school, he was always around you. and when you asked him to be roommates with you because rent was too high, he immediately gave you his half of the rent.
even though you two got closer, he couldn’t help but be still so shy around you. he was in love with you and you knew it too. walking around in your panties and a small shirt that made nipples stand at attention, just to tease him only made it harder for him to not want to feel your soft gummy walls.
choso didn’t care about watching the movie anymore, so he pulled out his phone and turned the volume down; scrolling on instagram to look at your page. he could look at you for hours and if he’d brush up on his art skills, his whole sketch pad would be filled with you.
you glanced over at him, blushing as you caught a glimpse of the video he watched of you. he quickly double tapped it before moving onto the next one. you turned to look at him, he was shirtless—his abs chiseled and defined. and then you took in his features. the sharpness of his jawline, the way the bags underneath his eyes brung them out and his hair that’s usually pulled into two high ponies, sat low on on his shoulders. oh how you imagine tugging on it as he sucked on your pussy like it—.
you whipped your head around towards the television, hearing loud moans and skin slapping coming from it. you had no idea that there was going to be a sex scene, a long and raunchy one at that. your eyes were glued to the screen and you only moved to place your empty glass on the table next to you.
choso had to put his phone down and when he heard the lewd noises coming from the the screen, he couldn’t look away and he couldn’t look at you either. imagining that him and you were on the screen instead, had him rock hard in his pants and he had to grab one of the couch’s pillows to hide his boner from you.
neither of you said anything, not able to look away—your minds clouded with lewd images. choso slipped one of his hands underneath the pillow and into his sweatpants, stroking his boner—the stiffness and the hardness caused him to stifle a moan. precum leaked from his thick mushroom tip the more he slowly rubbed himself to the thought of you cumming around his cock.
hearing soft moans and whimpers on the side of the couch, he turned his tired eyes towards you—blushing when he saw you clutching your boob and your thighs pressing and rubbing together. he couldn’t believe the sight, you were doing that right next to him? he couldn’t stop looking as you pinched your nipple through your t-shirt, your mouth turned in a slight frown—too aroused from watching gojo fuck the woman in the movie.
and when you finally lock eyes with him and softly moan his name, his cock nearly ripped out his pants. “please, choso~,” your voice low—a soft moan following behind. his nervousness left his body the moment he leaned up and hover over you, laying back on the couch—spreading your legs for him. he took a good look at your body, your nipples standing at attention and the wet stain on your panties made it damn near impossible for him to not cum right on the fabric.
his rough hands traced your inner thigh, sending flutters to your pussy. you grabbed his hand, making him pull your panties to the side—unable to bare the overwhelming sensation. “please touch me~” you begged and he leaned down to kiss you for the first time, his lips soft against yours. his hand rubbed up and down against your folds, covering them in your slick—causing you to whimper in between the kiss.
he back away from your addictive lips, leaning down to be eye level with your dripping cunt; his tongue meeting your clit. you gasped and clutched the side of the couch, his tongue swirling and sucking on your sensitive bud. choso had been dreaming about this moment; tasting you, slurping up your fluids to satisfy his thirst. this felt all too surreal for him, but he wasn’t going to stop. not now, not ever.
the more he tongue fucked you the more you desired to cum all over his pretty face. and when he finally pushed in his middle and ring finger, those soft moans of yours became louder; drowning out from what was still playing on the television. you manicure now tangled in his deep brown locks, pushing his head further into your slick; grinding on his face—building up your orgasm.
“you taste so good” his words vibrated against your cunt, causing your back to arch off the bed. it felt so good, you were so so close and he could feel it too. his pace quickened, dipping in and out of your walls with precision. your toes curled and the grip on his hair got tighter as you came right there on his tongue. moaning his name as you ride out your orgasm, while grinding sloppily against his face.
he still pumped his fingers inside of you and didn’t detach himself from your sensitive clit either, working on another orgasm out of you. this one more intense than the last. “oh my fuck! ch-choso~” a stream of clear fluid splashed out and onto his face, catching you both by surprise. he had made you squirt, lapping up the sweet liquid that dripped down his face. you had never squirted before, none of your exes could ever pleasure you that good.
leaning down to kiss you again, you happily accepted his tongue inside your mouth—tasting yourself. gasping when you felt something hard poke you, you pulled away and looked down to see his cock standing up through his sweatpants. ‘there’s no way…’ you knew he wasn’t going to fit inside of you either, but damn were you going to try your hardest.
a smirk etched on your face as you began to grind against his clothed cock, earning a low gasp from him. his eyes planted down on your pussy teasing his cock, your slick mixing with his precum had created a huge stain on his pants. the friction earned a moan from both of your lips, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through your bodies.
“can i….please..?” he asked, his tone coming off more as a beg—his dark purple eyes connecting to yours while he pushed himself more onto your pussy. you nod and quickly slid your soaked panties off, throwing them to the far end of your living room, while he did the same with his sweatpants.
‘oh my fu—so big~’ you thought, eyes widening at the sight of his cock. it was so pretty too, couldn’t stop yourself from staring at it. his tip was so pink and had so much pre-cum pooling out of it and from his tip to base he had vein running from it and he was neatly trimmed. you could feel yourself getting even more wetter the more you stared at it, you were gonna have so much fun with him.
getting closer to you again, his angled his cock at your little entrance before he paused and looked at you. “do we need cond—shit, y/n~” he moaned breathlessly as you pushed yourself down onto his girth, answering his question before he could even get it out. “i want to feel all of you cho~,” a whimper leaving your mouth as he began to fill you up.
he thumbed your clit and held your other leg up, easing the pressure as he pushed in you. when all of him was finally inside, he didn’t move and allowed you to get used to his size. the feeling of you clenching around him made him slowly move his hips, stroking in and out of your tight little cunt.
he was so so so fat—he was stretching you out with each stroke with his tip brushing over your spot, clit throbbing as a result. oh you knew you made the right decision when you asked him to be your roommate. choso moved slow, but hit all of the right spots—not wanting to hurt you. “choso, you could be rough with me….i can take it,~” he looked at you wide eyes, hesitant to do anything further until you gave your nod of approval.
all the air was sucked from your lungs when he slammed his hips into yours, his tip making out with your cervix. this is exactly what you wanted, to be fucked like a whore. he grabbed you by the hair, making you watch as he begun to tear your pussy in half, stretching you completely. “look at how good you’re fucking taking me. cunt’s so fucking wet.”
nothing played on the tv, but all that was on your mind was cumming for you roommate and have your belly full of his cum. balls slapping your cunt hard, cream coating his dick with each stroke and his hands now at your throat, fucking you so hard into the soft burgandy couch cushions.
“you love this shit, don’t you? mhm—I knew you were a slut, teasing me with those little ass panties. fuck, gonna let me breed this cunt?” his hand was still wrapped around your throat, only allowing you to nod. he strokes became faster and harder, your little cunt would be sore the next day. he let out a loud groan, his load panting your walls in long thick ropes.
he knew you were going to cum that way you were squeezing and milking his cock as he came. “hold it. don’t cum, yet” you whined as he pulled out of you, halting your orgasm. He sat back on the couch and pulled you on top of him, entering you with ease and pushing your head down as he proceeded to pound the shit out of you.
choso jackhammered you like his life depended on it, grunting in your ear while you moaned softly into his. the sounds of your slick made it harder for him to not bust inside of you again, not before he made you cum again. “daddy, please don’t stop—pound me harder!” hearing the name you called him made his dick twitch, he held your waist and slapped your ass as he pounded you harder.
you couldn’t hold it anymore. his cock became drenched when you squirted, wetting up the couch cushions underneath you. pulling you off of him in a swift motion, he got up and began jerking himself off in front of your face—spurting out thick white loads, covering your pretty face completely.
a wave of nervousness fell over him again and he quickly began apologizing for cumming too much on your face, but when he saw your finger glide on your face and dip into your mouth; he calmed down. a smirk etched into your face as you continued to lick the load off your face.
“mhm, we need to do more movie nights. especially if it’s going to end like this~”
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katsukikitten · 8 days
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Actress reader and Actor Bakugou have to enact a sex scene. Of course they've got one of those little modesty covers for his dick and for you but you'll still look naked in the shot.
But there is just something about the way that he's grinding into you, his cock hard from the action of course and since your characters hate each other (just like in real life) it's supposed to be a rough passionate scene, it's hate fucking after all! Your moaning only gets louder the more he "fucks" into you echoing around the studio with tons of people looking over the two of you but his eyes are trained on you and when he thinks he hears something a little more than the over the top obvious fake sounds your character is meant to give, when it ebbs into something real (fake to real sounds per the script) he gets a little too into his character.
"That's right, take it, take this cock. Mould to me so that every other man knows that you're mine and mine alone, princess."
"You'll have to fuck me harder than that to make me cum, prince." Spitting back the title his character so hates and the nickname you've come to call him off set and in interviews if only to burrow under his skin. His eyes flash with anger and for a moment you think you've regained control.
But his thrusts come harder after that and suddenly you're trying to cover your face with your arms but he moves to pin them to the plush pillow over head. His voice rough, deep, panting out in such a mind numbing growl.
"No, I want to see the exact moment I ruin you."
Covered cock somehow grinding against your clothed slit just right, your clit throbs from the repeated action, making you lock your ankles around his waist.
Head thrown back to expose your throat that he comes down to bite as he "cums" just as he's supposed to although the lines were wholly improvised. Shuddering over top of you with his tongue lapping up the rough teeth marks he's left on your pretty skin. Pulling away to grab your jaw roughly, rutting into you with pained groans as his tongue slips into your mouth "prolonging" your release and his.
"CUT!" Comes the doctor's voice, slicing through the tension reminding you both exactly where you are. Bakugou pulls away but not too quickly, grabbing at the blankets to cover you even if the whole world was going to see your tits bouncing from his rough thrusts thanks to the network allowing borderline soft core porn on air.
"Let's take fifteen to review and recenter!" Comes the directors sharp voice and so Bakugou helps you up on shaking legs, pressing you into his side as he walks around in nothing but that "modesty" covering.
"Wow! That seemed so real you did the fake to real moaning so well!" People linger to pass you compliments until they see Bakugou snarling down at them, rushing away from the always grumpy actor. He makes sure you're sat on the couch in your dressing room, both of you lock eyes for a moment and it's obvious by his smirk that this jackass can't help but stroke his own ego.
"Ya that sure was a performance from you, ya know I almost would have thought it was real, princess." He mocks you, giving you some knowing look as your cheeks still burn from how good he was from grinding alone.
"In your fuckin dreams Prince." He can only suck his teeth and chuckle darkly at your retort. Going to cup his fat length and sac, a squishing sound can be heard and it makes you hyper aware of the wetness between your thighs. He pulls away his hand slowly, silvery strings connect to the thin fabric and his fingers before they snap and he looks up at you. Smiling devilishly, palming his damp cock sticky from more than just you but you don't have to know that.
"Then I must be dreaming huh?"
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
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Ghost knew that declining any type of work in this industry wasn't ideal. He can do as he likes because Ghost is a name everyone knows, a porn actor no one forgets.
Unlike you, the newcomer. Still so green behind the ears.
So, with a downturn of your alluring lips, you inform him that the meeting to go over the upcoming threesome with Price would have to wait.
"My manager sent me an email this morning, very last minute, about a video I'm gonna shoot with Gaz."
The fingers that were tugging your hair still. "Oh yeah? Know wha' kinda scene your doin'?"
You softly hum. "He's to be my handyman neighbor. Gotta bat my eyes at him as I ask if he can come fix my kitchen sink."
Kyle's a decent bloke, a looker for sure.
He's an up-and-coming entertainer. The pretty boy next door, the brother's best friend type.
Face as if sculpted from marble, a smile to die for.
Beautiful, really. Not particularly Ghost's type though, he likes a little more meat on his bottoms. Not that what he thinks matters, of course.
"Tha's alrigh', love. We'll postpone it to after then, yeah?"
Ghost quietly sits behind Price with his arms crossed, never taking his sharp eyes off the small screen. Even though Kyle is there too, all he can see is you. Your rosy tongue tantalizingly licks your bottom lip as you give Kyle a once-over.
Smart fingers undoing the button on his trousers, hooking into the waistband, carefully pulling them down until they puddle at his ankles.
The way you gaze up at him through your lashes, with his cock in your pert mouth, taking him in until the tip of your nose grazes his trimmed pubic hair.
How your neck cranes back so beautifully, eyes fluttering closed as Kyle slides his expert tongue through your slick folds. Your soft thighs trembling as you buck into his mouth, the heels of your feet digging into his back. Ghost's ears catch the sound of your breath hitching, while his eyes feast on the delectable sight of your back arching off the kitchen counter as you reach your peak.
His fingers sink into his thick bicep when Kyle doesn't relent after; continues to lap away at your sodden cunt, pressing tiny kisses on your sensitive clit. Ghost's spine straightens instantly when he hears your pained whimper.
It's too much, Kyle needs to back off before he forcibly gets him off of you—
It takes less than a minute for you to reach another peak, squealing as you come.
Your airy laugh dissolves the tension in his shoulders and leans back into his chair.
Good.
He drinks in the euphoric expression on your face when Kyle slowly sinks into your wet heat— your sweet moan forever music to his ears. Ghost watches you jolt back on the counter with every sharp snap of Kyle's slim hips. He hears the breath punched out of you with each thrust. He can see your white, creamy release around the base of Kyle's thick length, strings of slick connecting you two.
Your hands curl around Kyle's forearms, your shaky legs wrapping around his waist.
Ghost's eyes narrow when Kyle leans forward to whisper something into your ear, and you mewl loudly. Ghost clenches his jaw so tightly that he hears a pop.
Kyle's got stamina, Ghost'll give him that. He fucked you through three orgasms until he finally pulled out and spurted thick cum over your mons.
Price calls it a wrap, and the crew begins to take down the lights and such.
Ghost doesn't move from the chair he's in, knowing that you'll come to him, even on unsteady legs.
And walk over you do, slowly but surely. "Hi, Ghost." He pats his thigh invitingly, gesturing you to sit.
"Hey, love. You did so well," he praises. "Looked a dream."
As you glance down in embarrassment, his dark eyes lock onto Kyle's, who stands with a cold water bottle in hand across the room. "Flatterer."
He holds Kyle's gaze a couple more seconds before flicking them to you. "Only tellin' the truth, pet. Alrigh', let's get outta here. Ya hungry?"
He places an arm around your lower back, the other under your knees, and lifts you off his lap.
"Don't even try to pull tha' dietin' bullshit on me either," he chides.
He huffs in amusement when you sputter.
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