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hyuckiefluff · 8 months

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drunk in you pt.2 | mark lee

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader genre: friends to lovers word count: 3.1k a/n: i meant to post this sooner but a whole week ended up going by without me realizing lol thank u for liking part 1 thoo content: semi-public sex (they’re in the living room of a shared apartment so), dry humping, usage of pet names like doll and baby, mark also calls reader a slut (this was self-indulgent hehe), oral (fem receiving), creampie, a fair amount of ass grabbing/slapping cuz mark is an ass guy in my head :))!! edit: it’s not even in my head anymore go watch his mommae challenge and tell me im not right

part 1

Life is funny in sick ways, because just a few minutes ago you were thinking about how badly you wanted to ride your best friend’s thighs but now that you were actually in a position to do so you couldn’t move. You were just straddling him, not even sure where to put your arms and shifting minimally scared that any movement against him could reveal how pathetically wet you were right now. I mean he had barely spoken a few words to you and you were putty in his hands, ready to give him anything that he asked for. So, why isn't he asking? Why isn't he doing something? He's the one who-...

Your train of thought came to an abrupt halt when his hands slid under your dress, grabbing a handful of your ass. A surprised yelp escaped your lips, almost sounding like a moan, and he seemed to like your reaction as he pressed his lips together to suppress a grin. Then he experimentally thrusted upwards, his hands keeping a firm grip on your ass, leaving no space between your clothed cores.

He took in your fucked out expression after every thrust as an invitation to keep doing it "M-mark…" you moaned, your nails practically carving into his shoulders.

Your head hung low, your hair acting like a curtain, blocking Mark's view from your flushed face. And he was not having it. He wanted to see you, he wanted to remember every little detail of you like this. So he grabbed a handful of your hair and gave it a gentle pull, making you lift your head. That put your neck in his line of sight, like a blank canvas he was ready to mark with his lips, leaving purples and reds behind.

He immediately latched his mouth on the space between your neck and clavicle, each kiss, bite and suck coaxing delicious moans from your throat, “F-fuck, keep…keep doing that” you managed to breathe out, your hands finding their way to his head. You attempted to grip his hair, but his haircut left you with little to grab onto. But that didn't stop you from trying, and he seemed to like it because as soon as you tugged, he groaned against your neck and sucked harder on a particular spot that sent tremors through your legs.

You were so focused on how good his mouth felt all over your skin that you completely missed the way his hand slid inside your panties. The sudden feeling of his fingers touching your folds making your brain short-circuit. So much so that you almost missed the words he whispered into your ear, “You’re already this wet just from a little teasing,” he tutted.

His finger emerged from your panties, glistening with your arousal. That was a sight that would have embarrassed you under different circumstances but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about that, not when he brought his finger to his lips and licked every drop of your essence off it all while making eye contact. A whimper got caught in your throat as you watched, captivated by the way he tasted you.

"How will it feel when I fuck you for real then, hm?"

Your thighs instinctively tightened against his after those words left his mouth. A reaction that wasn't lost on him. His flushed face sported an even cockier smirk now, "You'd like that huh?" he quipped, extending the finger he'd just licked toward your mouth. Without hesitation, you took it in, not caring about the mingling of his saliva with yours.

"But here's the thing," he continued, "You've gotta ask for it."

You were having a hard time paying attention to what he was saying. Your brain being more focused on his finger abusing your mouth and the subtle but persistent thrust of his hips against yours. His words seemed like distant echoes, drowned out by the sensations wrapping around you. That is, until a sudden slap against your bare ass jolted you back to reality. His voice was low and commanding, "Ask me to fuck you, doll."

His gaze bore into you, intense and almost predatory, "Please… fuck me, Mark," the plea slipped from your lips easily and before you could fully process your own words, he was lifting you up. You expected him to take you to his room upstairs, but instead, he started walking right up to the big couch in front.

Certainly he wasn’t planning to fuck you in the middle of the living room, where any of the boys could just walk in on the scene, right? Your hazy brain couldn't even remember if Jaemin had gone back to his room. The last you knew, he had been somewhere near the kitchen, possibly passed out. But if he were to walk in here and…

Your thoughts were once again interrupted by Mark lowering you onto the couch and immediately discarding your soaked panties. He spread your legs a little bit more and made eye contact with you right before his head was disappearing between your legs. Things were moving so fast but you couldn't bring yourself to think about the consequences of doing this right now when it felt so damn good.

The heat pulling in your lower stomach intensified as he used his nose to nudge against your entrance and with one swift move of his tongue against your core he had you losing your mind.

“Oh.. god-.. Mark… fuck…that feels so-” you tried to voice the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you but your words broke into fragmented moans and gasps.

Your fingers clenched in a tight grip on his short hair, urging him further against your core. You were so desperate and it was embarrassingly obvious. But you felt his chuckles resonate against your core, so he clearly found it amusing. His tongue danced and explored every sweet spot slowly, making you see sounds and hear colors. But, it wasn't enough. The ache inside you demanded more.

Your need for him to fuck you into tomorrow was almost unbearable.

"Mark…" you called out to him, but it seemed he was too focused on eating you out to hear you. His own desperation was also palpable, clear by the way his hips rutted against the couch. His fingers joined his tongue sliding inside you one by one. The simultaneous ministrations threatened to push you over the edge. If he kept up this pace, you would definitely cum all over his face.

His gaze locked onto yours immediately as he pulled away from your core. The sight of his swollen lips glistening with your arousal, and his hair sticking to his forehead leaving you with an image that would replay in your head for many nights to come.

"Are you close, doll?" his focus on your reactions intensified as he coaxed you, "Aw, look at your pretty fucked out face, cum for me, okay baby?"

His words and the relentless pumping of his fingers were enough to bring you over the edge of an explosive orgasm “Oh my go-," you moaned, your voice a chorus of curses mingled with his name.

This was the first time in your life you’d actually orgasmed after being asked to. His tongue wasn’t just good at eating your pussy, he was also good with words.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. But before you could fully recover, Mark grabbed your legs and quickly flipped you onto your stomach. Your dress was hiked up, baring your ass to him. Another firm slap echoed through the room, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. A quick glance over your shoulder revealed the hunger in his eyes as he looked over your curves, a satisfied smile tugged at your lips as you confirmed that Mark was very much an ass guy– Haechan owes you $10.

“Can’t believe my best friend is about to blow my back out," you muttered with an amused grin, the words directed more to yourself. However, Mark's snort indicated that he heard you loud and clear. "This is quite the bonding experience, don’t you think?," he said playfully and the boyish smile on his face didn’t quite match his actions. He pulled his dick out in one swift move and you felt almost embarrassed at how your mouth watered upon seeing his length and girth. You’re so glad he prepped you with his fingers before, otherwise you don’t think you could take all of him.

“What’s wrong? Never seen one this big?” you rolled your eyes. This was a side of Mark you hadn't seen before – this level of cockiness – but given what he was packing, you guess he had every right to flaunt it.

“How about you shut up and fuck me?”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” he seized your hips and gave them a teasing squeeze as he positioned himself at your entrance.

"Wait, shit" he cursed under his breath, and you turned on time to see him run a hand frustratedly across his face "I don't have a condom,"

You grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward you. "I'll take the morning-after pill, just please, fuck me already.” the man didn’t need much convincing because before you knew it, he was gradually pushing himself inside you.

The room echoed with his grunts and muffled moans as he pushed deeper inside. You struggled to stifle your own cries, but his generous stretch brought tears to your eyes, and your lip was surely going to bruise from the excessive biting.

"Shit... doll... you're... you're squeezing me so hard," he grunted, his fingers digging into your waist with a grip that promised to leave marks. Once he bottomed out, his hold on you relaxed. After the initial discomfort passed, you found yourself moaning at the intoxicating sensation of being filled completely. He gave you a brief moment to adapt to his size, peppering your backside with kisses before seeking your consent to move. And only after a strained "Please" escaped your lips, he started moving.

Though he started slow, his thrusts were anything but soft. The explicit sounds of your sticky bodies colliding filled the air, almost scandalously loud, and you couldn't help but wonder if the other guys could hear it from their rooms. It was almost as if Mark could read your mind, because he took hold of your jaw and drew you flush against his body. The change in position momentarily stifled your moans. “If you keep being this loud, the guys will surely hear how good I’m fucking you right now…” he bit your lower lip, drawing a weak whimper from you.

“But maybe that's what you want, huh? You like the idea of them hearing?… hmm.. Look how nicely you're clenching around me after I put that thought in your pretty, twisted mind.” He thrusted hard against you, this new position putting extra pressure on your muscles and you felt like you might collapse any second, but Mark was so in tune with your body language that he noticed this and swiftly flipped you over again.

Now face to face, you had an unobstructed view of Mark Lee thrusting into you. A faint furrow adorned his forehead, and his flushed complexion extended from his neck to his cheeks. It also struck you that he had taken off his shirt somewhere along the way, exposing the expanse of his soft skin. Seizing the opportunity, your hands roamed freely across his torso, fingers tracing the contours you'd always secretly admired. You wanted to kiss it and bite it, and what was stopping you? You pulled Mark closer to you by his necklace and this sudden closeness seemed to have caught him off guard because his pace faltered a bit, you took this chance to start leaving a trail of kisses on his chest and collarbones. The soft moans he emitted as your lips grazed his skin were almost enough to send you over the edge once more. Your erratic pace was matching his unhurried thrusts as your hips met in the middle. In response, he snatched one of your legs, hoisting it onto his shoulder to penetrate even deeper.

“Shi–... you feel so, so fucking good, doll.” Mark groaned against your ear. Your eyes met as you tried to pull him impossibly closer by the hips, and at that moment you wished that eyes could talk because he was looking at you in a way he never had before. Good sex did funny things to people, you were probably his favorite person right now, if the way he was smiling like an idiot was any indication.

“Wha..what?” you asked, trying to match his smile but the way he kept hitting that specific spot had your expressions morphing in pleasure. “Be honest… how-..fuck... how long have you wanted me to fuck you?” he said, his eyes shifting from yours to the point where your bodies joined, the sight of his dick pumping in and out of you enough to make him want to go crazy.

"T-this isn’t the time for that," you managed to say, your head lolling back until it met the plush surface of the couch behind you.

“You know…you could’ve just told me earlier… cause now I regret not fucking you before,” he confessed, his words punctuated by the exertion in his voice. Without waiting for your response, he bunched up your dress, exposing your chest. His eyes lit up as they fell upon your naked breasts, and a satisfied "Knew it" slipped from his lips.

"Wearing that flimsy dress and no bra… did you really think I wouldn't notice?" he tutted while cupping your breast. The cool touch against your warm skin made you release an involuntary moan "You think the boys didn’t notice?" he chuckled bitterly and took one of your nipples between his forefingers, his gaze unflinching as he watched your mouth fall open in response.

"But this was for me, wasn't it? All that innocent act in front of them, while secretly wanting me to fuck you so bad.” you whimpered in response, unable to respond or deny what he was saying because it was in part true.

“You were practically drooling at the thought of me touching you like this," he grunted and suddenly took that same nipple into his mouth, alternating between nibbling and sucking. “M-Mark, oh my go–...” The words were cut short when he began to thrust into you harder, his hips meeting yours more desperately now.

He pulled away from your breast slightly to whisper a stream of dirty nothings against your skin. You only caught the words little slut and the surprise of such a term rolling off his tongue only served to turn you on even more. Your walls instinctively tightened around him, a reaction that had him sucking your nipple even harder.

“Shit… If you-…if you keep squeezing me so hard… I’m gonna-“ he could barely speak, his words being lost between every thrust and the feeling of your pussy taking him so well.

Mark was pretty damn sure he'd never been this pussy drunk before. He was even fighting to hold off his own orgasm just so he could bask a bit longer on how your walls were deliciously clenching around him. And oh, the view. You sprawled beneath him, disheveled yet so beautiful. Your flushed cheeks and lips, slightly swollen from your own nibbling. Bangs pushed back from your face revealing those pretty eyes that struggled to stay fixed on his. They rolled with pleasure every time he found that sweet spot. And he couldn't ignore how your tongue darted out every now and then to moisten your lips, tempting him to bridge the gap between your mouths.

“Mark.. I—I’m c…I’m cumming,” you said, grabbing onto his neck for support.

"Me too, ah... wh-where do you want it?" he managed to ask between ragged breaths, his wide eyes strangely innocent amid the frenetic rhythm of his thrusts.

“Inside,” you said, and a glint of something flashed through his eyes.

All of a sudden he closed the gap between your faces, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that matched the intensity of his thrusts. It stole your breath quicker than you'd care to admit. His tongue asserted itself without hesitation, as if it already knew the contours of your mouth intimately. You nipped at his lower lip juts like he did to you earlier, catching him off guard. To this, he let out a guttural whimper that would definitely linger in your mind for days to come. Mark's moans had a mix of whininess and a deep resonance that struck you at your core and you wanted to hear more of it so you kept kissing him hard. His moans became your own as your kiss deepened.

Your orgasm came first, your cries muffled by Mark's mouth. He followed suit not long after, his thrusts growing sloppier. Then, he stopped completely and you felt him filling you to a brim. You both looked down at the same time to see the messy evidence of both of your releases mixing. You immediately regretted doing this on the couch when he pulled out from you and the sticky mess spilled out of you.

But you decided that would be a problem for your sober self to deal with later.

Sober you wasn't exactly managing the situation well.

Waking up after having drunk sex with your best friend in the living room of the dorm he shared with your 6 other best friends didn’t turn out to be the chill moment you thought it would be.

And the way his hand was casually resting on your ass, coupled with the feeling that you'd been run over by a truck about twenty seven times, certainly didn't contribute to improving your state.

You reach over to his side and grab the cushions under his head. Then, you give his body a careful nudge, turning him around slightly which oddly enough doesn’t even make him stir a little. You climb on top of him, pressing the cushion down on his face just enough to jolt him awake, without actually cutting off his air supply. His arms flail in confusion for a solid five seconds before you lift the cushion, revealing a bewildered yet still half-asleep Mark.

"What the…" was his initial reaction, though it took him a moment more to fully register the scene– you sitting on top of him, only a cushion covering your nakedness. “…fuck”

"Yeah, exactly, what the fuck," you gesture between the two of you, highlighting the rather interesting scenario.

A few seconds of just silently staring at each other went by while you could see in his eyes that he was trying to come up with what to say now.

"Uh… wanna go again?" he joked, and you respond with a playful pillow thwack, prompting a chuckle from him.

"Just kidding!"

a/n: after editing this i realized how many times i wrote the word ass and i feel ashamed lol... also the ending is kinda bleh cuz i genuinely dunno how to end my fics but i hope yall liked this! let me know in the comments how it was! xx

part 1

#nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct fic #nct dream fic #nct smut #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct moodboard #nct mark #nct mark x reader #nct x you #nct dream smut #nct dream #mark lee x y/n #mark lee fic #mark lee x you #nct dream scenario

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inkdrinkerworld · 5 months

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A little blurb because i needed this attention when I came out of the hair salon yesterday :) @bruisedboys this is for us hehe

You’re fiddling with your hair as you step out of the salon, distractedly looking around for your boyfriend’s car.

Remus turns up a second later, eyes wide as he comes out of the car to greet you.

“Oh my gods!” He all but shouts as he sees you.

“Do you hate it?” You ask, uncertainty bleeding into your tone. You’d wanted to go a little shorter than you are right now and having the change in your plans is really messing you up.

It’s not necessarily a bad haircut, just not what you expected.

“Hate it? You look fucking stunning, dove.”

Remus’ hands race to the ends of your hair, twisting it experimentally and smiling. “I think this cut suits you perfectly.” He adds when you don’t even blush.

“Are you sure? I wanted it off my shoulders.”

Remus nods, tipping your chin so you can look into his eyes. “You’re a fucking stunner babe, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

His lips meet yours before any more doubts can race into your mind.

“I think I need to take you out now,” Remus admits as he helps you get into the car.

“What why? S’just a haircut,” you still sound unhappy, just a little less so from Remus’ attention.

“I wanna show you off even more now,” Remus explains, leaning across the center console to kiss your cheek. “Where do you fancy? I reckon we could probably get a spot at that place you like with the shrimp.”

You mull it over a little and nod- still a little shy to Remus’ obvious need to dote and spoil you with random dates like this, “If you really want to.”

Remus chuckles, hand reaching for the nape of your neck- he’s a deliberate little shit and tugs at the root of your hair a little to make you moan, effectively getting you out of your head,- then scratches your scalp softly.

“I really really want to, precious girl.”

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x y/n

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uhohdad · 8 months

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EXPERIMENTAL - Konig Fic Pt 3

Summary: Konig helps Researcher!Reader with a new technology they’ve been developing.

Warnings: Sexual Content, NSFW, bondage, DOM!Konig, size kink, light spanking, unprotected sex, possessive!konig, praise kink, the mask stays on 😈, Reader x Konig, injury, needle torture, PTSD, talk of standard war stuff, Non-con Voyeurism. No use of y/n,

Reader gender/sex is incomprehensible cause I do it for the girls, the gays, and the theys

Word Count: 10,2k

(tbh you probably don’t need to read the first two parts so if you just wanna read this slutty chapter it should be fine lol but if you do i’ll link them)

AO3

PART ONE

PART TWO

NSFW under the cut

You’re praying that he’s getting this.

There’s a million things that could go wrong - Konig not being near his device and you’re just streaming into an empty room. Or Ghost’s device wasn’t the one that was synced with Konig’s, maybe one of the matching copies or an earlier prototype. Or worse - Konig found out about the video and leaves you to your demise as he rightfully should.

You swallow as you watch Mohawk put the his phone away in his pocket, hoping his screen wasn’t exposed to the feed’s camera, “Thanks for making me have that on my phone, by the way. Do you know how many times I was forced to watch this?”

Stop talking about it!

“What else do you want to know?” You’re more willing to give out top-secret government intel than let Konig find about that fucking video.

Ghost senses you’ve been holding back on him, and he tilts his head down to look at you from above the projection, “What’s it do?”

“Everything.” You answer, “Anything I tell it to. It’s like VR.” There’s a bit of a slur to your words. You’re still aware enough to manage the long-con, but your eyelids are getting heavier. Just have to hold out awhile longer, juggle a few things at the same time. Don’t let Konig find out about how you ended up here, but make sure he knows you’re here. Don’t let skull boy and stupid-haircut find about the transmission, but don’t let them lose enough interest to turn the device off. Don’t give away too many government secrets, but don’t give out too little to keep the soldiers from doing anymore permanent damage to your brain.

And manage all of that while coping with the current level of brain damage you have.

They look at each other, trying to figure out if they’re satisfied with your answer.

That’s good. Just keep stalling.

Everything was threatening to crash down around you, but there’s a glimmer of hope so minuscule, you think you could actually pull it off if all the pieces fall together.

You’re no longer giving up.

We can fix this. Fix all of it. Fix your mess.

You’re going to give it a fair shot, you decide, and you’ll leave it up to the universe.

Ghost cocks his head, those intimidating eyes boring into you, “And what things do you tell it to do?” You can tell he’s irritated with the meaningless answer. You steer in the opposite direction.

You give a drawn out hum, “Identify the bad guys. Heat map, heart beats ‘n all that.” You’re trying to keep your thoughts together, but there’s too many to keep up with, and the concussion still has you in its hazy clutches.

Another idea, a back up plan, you’ll call it. You can’t tell if it’s a stupid idea or not, but you’re slipping and fast, “Can I get a smoke? I’m feening.” You give a smile, the residual of the painkillers making it easy to appear unassuming.

“No. What else does it do?” Ghost is straight to the point, and it reminds you of Konig, and you wish Ghost would stop doing that because you’re trying to do something here.

Another drunken hum, “What’d’ya want it to do? I can do it.” You wave your hand at him, casually flashing your restraints so Konig would get a clear view.

Ghost steps towards you and grabs the front of your gown, yanking your face inches from his, “What does it fucking do?”

A proud smile crosses your face, “Not your mom, ‘cause I got that covered myself.”

Mohawk puts a hand of warning on Ghost’s shoulder, reminding him not to get too violent with you.

Ghost ignores the warning, his fist connecting with your temple before you had a chance to brace yourself.

Skull boy packs quite a punch.

You’re reset for a moment, blinded by a bright white and the ring in your ears makes a blaring encore.

You can tell by the warm and wet feeling under your bandages that the gash from Ghost’s gun had split open.

You don’t know how long it takes you to get your bearings, but once you do you’re almost thankful Ghost had rocked you.

You’re hoping Konig can see the urgency of the situation and your injured brain being rattled around your skull gives you an excuse to lie motionless, hindering interrogation. They know you’re not useful to them when you incapable of coherency. It’s why Stupid-Haircut is trying so hard to keep Ghost from injuring you to bad. It’s why they went through the trouble of nursing an enemy back to health. If Ghost turns your brain to soup like you’re so clearly provoking him to do, you won’t be able to tell them what they want to know.

Okay, painful change of plans.

Instead of forcing yourself to stay clear enough to manage all the details through the fog of the concussion, you’re going to force yourself into ignorance by weaponizing Ghost’s temperament against him. It’s in their best interest to keep you cognizant, and it’s in your best interest to get Ghost irritated enough to torture you until you’re unable to speak.

It’s going to be brutal, but you’ve been feeling nothing but pain at the hands of him, and you don’t think you’re far off from the cozy clutches of unconsciousness as it is - that it won’t be long until you’re unable to feel anything.

Always the masochist.

You can’t help but smile, even though it all. A genuine one, toothy and face-wrinkling, one that wasn’t for anyone else in the room, but didn’t care if they saw. It wasn’t a desperate attempt to relieve your discomfort. Not a waste of your precious energy lulling strangers into their sense of comfort. Not a weak effort to influence the opinion of you belonging to whoever happens to be in your vicinity.

You feel like you’re watching yourself descend into madness, powerless against the euphoric feeling that floods through you. Warmth coasting through your veins. You could tell it wasn’t the drugs, the concussion and the growing list of other injuries, or even the idea Konig may be rushing to your rescue any minute now.

It was because in this moment, despite everything that has happened, you can’t help but be enamored with yourself.

You?

Of course. Of course it took these conditions to pull it out of you.

It’s always the hard way with you, wasn’t it?

“If you can’t restrain yourself maybe you should let me handle it.”

“Back down, Johnny.” Ghost warns in that low, cautionary tone that can’t help leave the receiver wondering just what horrible punishment would occur if they pushed. He doesn’t even have to look at Johnny to hammer the intimidation into him. It’s only accompanied by a low extend of arm vaguely in his direction.

Neither you or Ghost noticed the way Johnny’s eye twitched or lip snarled, but he heeds Ghost’s warning.

Ghost’s eyes lock on you, and you think everyone in the room has caught on to the predicament they’re in.

Johnny, who’s been up to speed since the start, walking the tightrope of being respectful to his superior without letting him damage the value of his informant.

Ghost, who’s long lost his respect for you before he even laid eyes on you, and since meeting you has only been sinking deeper into his hatred of you. He’s used to getting information from soldiers. Out of powerful individuals that could handle a hit and that stay conscious during an interrogation session. The ones smart enough not to antagonize and beg for the brutality. Ones that grit their teeth an at least try and suck it up to maintain a scrap of dignity. Not you. He knows he needs your brain but he’d be happy to put an end to all of it, right now. Pull the plug on your project the manual way. If they can’t have it, no one can. Maybe he’d get what he wants along the way if you’re coherent enough to squeak it out, but that’d just be a bonus in his eyes.

And you. Wonderfully brilliant, even if occasionally misguided, and as much as you hate to believe it sometimes, incredibly lovable, even if Ghost is looking at you like he wants to put your head on a stick. But you don’t care about that dummy. No, you’re not even looking at him or his Johnny. Even if he takes your life from you right now, you think you could accept that. Not for any necessarily suicidal reasons, even though the concussion has definitely knocked some dark feelings loose.

You close your eyes, and the smile still hasn’t left your face, even if your sore muscles were pulling on the edges of your headache.

“Too much morphine.” Ghost says, to no one in particular, not hesitating as he forcefully grabs your forearm and digs his thumb into the skin encasing your IV needle.

You immediately hiss through gritted teeth, but he doesn’t hesitate as he takes the beginning of the needle with his other hand, roughly poking around in your arm.

You try to pull away but he’s got a grip tight enough to force your arm extended. You’re sure his fingertips will leave bruises.

He removes the needle entirely before puncturing you in a different spot on your inner elbow, shaking the needle violently beneath your flesh. You gasp, pulling against his iron grip with what little strength you have.

“Where’d your smile go?” Ghost asks in a neutral tone, his eyes dead of emotion as he removes the needle before stabbing another hole in your arm.

You let out a yelp, eyes screwed shut as your other hand jerks against the restraints. You’re too focused on the sickening feeling of skewered veins to make up a good comeback.

He does it again, and your fists clench and a high grunt escapes through gritted teeth.

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to set an IV.” Ghost says dryly, his eyes cold behind the mask as he thrashes the needle.

“Keep practicing.” You hiss, pitch warbling through the pain.

And he does.

It’s brutal, Ghost flaying the crease of your arm repeatedly. It’s been less than a minute but you’re sure the torture started a lifetime ago. You just have to take it, it’s all you can do. Your verbal stalling wasn’t cutting it, so you’re just going to have to opt for this instead and hope you can piss him off enough to get just a little too violent with you.

When he’s done, he jams the needle back where it was, managing to lay it back in your vein. “There we go.”

You study each other for a brief moment, before he leans in close, so close his projection becomes obscured through your head. You’re eye to eye now, nothing between you two but the mask your nose is almost brushing up against.

He grabs your face, his gloved fingers digging into your jaw with the same force he had held your forearm. He holds your head still and all you can do is look at him, brows pinched in fury as your nails dig into your palms, fists fight the restraints.

His eyes twitch as they flicker between each of yours.

“I am going to ruin you.”

You shake your head in an attempt to free your jaw from his clutches, but his grip is strong and he makes a point of forcing your head still, looking down his mask at you.

“You can give me all the information you like. I’m not stopping until it’s finished.”

Ghost finally lets you go with a rough shove. He takes the device from his ear and his wrist, discarding them both over his shoulder. Johnny catches the ear piece with a slight fumble, and the wrist remote hits the ground with a ting, rattling obnoxiously as it rolls to a stop. Johnny’s got his hands full as he yells but you you don’t bother listening to what he’s saying.

You’re too busy relaxing into the attack as you let Ghost carry you to death’s door.

———————————————————-

Even wincing is painful.

You're finally stirred awake by the feeling of a gloved hand on the back of your neck.

It’s hard to open your eyes, and when you finally do you see him, from the chest up, he looks just like a just a blurry figure. Two of them, actually, doubled vision multiplying the lone man that stood before you.

Even with your damaged vision you can tell it’s Konig, making out the telling shapes of his gear and those biceps you’ve studied so close you could pick them out of a lineup.

The hood that always intimidated you, but now fills you with a comfort like no other. You can see the light of your projection shielding his eyes.

A blinding bright light surrounds him, haloing your vision and it hurts, but you can help but keep your weary gaze fixed on him inbetween slow blinks.

You’re sure you’re dead. That you’re passing over and this is your brain manifesting some hallucination to comfort you as you transition.

You reach out to touch his hood, just to see if you can. You wanted to see if you could feel him, the researcher in you testing the potentials of your delusions. The restraints cut you short for a final time, before Konig quickly cuts your hands free with a knife. He takes your weak extended hand in his and you can feel it.

It engulfs yours, the scratchy feel of his glove wrapped around your hand, and he feels real.

His other hand retracts from your neck and reaches up to turn his projection off to get a clearer look at you. His hand comes back from under his hood and moves carefully to the side of your face, his thumb tracing a bruise on your cheek. His can’t believe what he’s seeing, his eyes darting around to the various injuries plastered on you.

“Meine liebe…”

He says, and you’re not sure if he’s speaking a different language or if your Ghost gave you dyphasia.

“Who did this?” He asks, horrified as he realizes there’s anyone out there cruel enough to do this to you.

You thought his stares were scary before, but the way his eyes glaze and turn cold as they follow the swells and bruises marking your face appears animalistic. It shoots a feeling in your gut so unnerving it confirms that you’re definitely not experiencing some euphoric deathbed hallucination.

When you don’t answer, your eyes just flicking around his features as you adjust, he asks again.

“Who did this?!”

His voice strikes an urgent and menacing tone the second time. On your recording he had been able to see Ghost’s point of view, but not Ghost. A front row seat to watch you get brutally attacked but not being able to identify the aggressor himself.

Always determined.

You reach up with your other hand to your saving grace, and place it on his upper arm, “Don’t leave.”

He hears how delicate your voice is, how you barely have the power to speak. How your hand quivered as you reached out to him, how you had squeezed his arm with what little might you had to encourage him to stay, to join you in a world where your aggressors and injuries didn’t matter, none of it mattered.

And how can he say no to you?

His eyes soften again and you can’t help but smile at the man behind the hood. You’re smile immediately turns to a wince as it forces an uncomfortable tug on your fresh injuries.

“Come here.” He says softly and he picks you out of the hospital bed with little effort. He’s got one arm secured around your back and the other is under the crease of your knees like he’s carrying you from the alter. He tilts you gently so your head can rest on his chest while he carries you to safety.

You’re wondering if you really are dead after all. It’s too good to be true, your plan working and Konig carrying you from the danger like he’s a fireman rescuing you from a burning building. You can discern the capabilities of his muscles as he holds you tight. You’re not even slowing him down, he’s still able to hurry through the hallways, guided to the exit by your device without fault.

The jostling hurts, but he’s doing his best to hold you steady, and being in his arms, resting the less injured side of your forehead against him, makes the pain all worth it.

You can hear the sounds of gunshots in the distance, not even your impaired hearing could muffle the loud pops. They must have had a full team come out to do an extraction. You thought it was a lot of to-do for little ol’ you.

Konig gets you to nearest exit, carefully managing the door as he opens it to ensure it didn’t hit you, and carries you out to the getaway vehicle, setting you down across the backseat like you’re made of glass.

“Liebe, they need me.” He looks back to the building, “Can you stay here?”

You give a weak nod, and he gives your hand a squeeze.

“I’ll be back, I promise.”

And you have his word.

He rushes back into the building while you try and rest in the backseat.

————————————-

The safe house was incredibly depressing. A rundown little two-room shack in the country, decorated with outdated appliances and furniture. The wall paper is peeling from the ceiling and you’re not sure if it was originally a drab yellow or if it had been stained from years of abuse. You can tell no one’s been around to take care of the water damage, judging from the large brown stains spotting the ceiling. There’s a kitchenette in the corner with an oven, a fridge that hums too loudly, and a microwave that appears never to have been cleaned. A worn beige couch outfitted with two dusty orange cushions that sag with age. A few generic paintings on the wall that hardly comfort you. No internet and no cell service, but there is a small box-shaped TV that you’re sure is from the 50s, the picture warped and cloudy.

Base placed you here temporarily until you relocate, your apartment now too dangerous to live in as your address was in enemy hands.

Judging by the way your supervisor spoke to you when discussing the transition, they must be in the dark on what caused the breach.

Your secret is safe for now, but there’s no telling when it’s going to get discovered. Waiting for the truth to come out has left a weight in your chest that sticks around from the moment you wake up to the moment you fall asleep.

They had assigned you a counselor to visit you and help process the trauma of the event, but you don’t trust them enough to give them the full truth. You just tell them about the violence Ghost inflicted, walking through the nightmares that result from it. You haven’t gotten a goodnight’s rest since it all went down, often waking up in the middle of the night kicking and screaming at the vivid night terrors of Ghost at the side of your bed.

Other than your counselor, the base associate that brings grocery to restock the noisy fridge on Thursdays, and the occasional check-up from your supervisor, you’ve been totally isolated from the outside world.

You don’t care about most.

Just Konig.

He had held you in his arms and carried you to safety at the risk of his own life. You knew you didn’t deserve it after what you did, but you can’t help but daydream.

Thinking about the way it felt to have your head on his chest, the cotton of his mask brushing your bruised cheek, his arms grasping you tight - protecting you - it definitely helps distract from the uncomfortable feeling lingering by your heart.

You wondered if he knew, if he had seen himself on Johnny’s copy of the recording, but still was kind enough to do such a favor for you.

Then you really wouldn’t deserve him.

You spend all your time thinking about Konig, bouncing between the depth of your guilt and the highs of the fantasy, just as you have been since you met him.

When he visits for the first time, it nearly triggered a panic attack. You had not been expecting visitors, and you were still haunted by the precious unexpected visitors you had. You’re delightfully surprised when you peek out the window and see Konig, looking nervously at the landscape behind him when you don’t answer right away. Your eyebrows spring up in shock and you let out a verbal exclamation at the sight.

You quickly run your fingers through your hair as a last ditch effort to appear somewhat put together before opening the door, forced to tilt your head back to look at him. His eyes widen at the sight of you, and he moves, almost like he’s about to step closer but stops himself.

You force yourself to contain your excitement at his visit, “Konig, It’s good to see you.” You look down at your clothes, still donned in loungewear, “Sorry about the jammies. Come in.” You open the door for him so he can step in before shutting the door behind him. He takes a few steps into the room before stilling, taking a moment to look around.

“Sorry for stopping by unannounced.” He says, followed by a clearing his throat. His eyes linger on the old beige couch before meeting your eyes again. “I‘ve been worried about you.”

You knew you were unreachable, he couldn’t have gotten in contact any other way, “Don’t apologize, you really have no idea how good it is to see you. I’ve been thinking about how to say thank you, for what you did, but I’m not sure there’s enough words between our languages to cover it.” You put your hand to back of your neck, looking to the floor for a moment before meeting his gaze again. You give a nervous laugh, “So I guess I owe you a bottle of wine, huh?”

You can tell he smiles under the mask by the way his eyes crinkle, “Just doing my job.”

You glance down at the arms that had held you so tight and wished they were wrapped around you again.

“Thank you, Konig. Really. I owe you my life.”

“It was my pleasure.” He says as he gives his head a little shake. His gaze shifts a bit higher, “You’re healing nicely.”

You touch a hand to the gash Ghost had left from his gun. You were most likely going to have a scar, but it had closed and the swelling had gone down significantly, the previous inflamed red now a medium pink. “Ah, well thanks for noticing. You know I made those skin cells myself?”

Huh?!

He tilts his head, “That’s good, I hear store-bought isn’t what it used to be.”

You giggle and roll on your heels a bit, not necessarily at the joke but at the fact that such a normally rigid and imitating man is now being cheeky with you, and it feels so nice to break the tension a bit.

“How are you holding up?” He says, and it reminds of the way your therapist inquires, with that gentle tone that clearly eludes to the incident without directly referring to the incident.

“Uh,” You trail off a bit, touching the nasty bruise on your inner arm, large from the spread of the internal bleeding, but now faded to a healing yellow. “Y’know? It’s actually been,” You let out another nervous laugh, “awful, actually. But that’s alright. Uhm, I think it’ll get easier with time.”

He nods and his eyes dart down to the bruise you’ve been mindlessly tracing with your finger. Something dark flickers behind his eyes but quickly subsides.

“If it’s worth anything, it does.”

You give him a weak smile and you have no way to confirm but you think he does the same.

A silence falls on you both for awhile, both of you picking a random point in the room to unfocus your vision on. The silence doesn’t feel awkward, more like you both were grieving for a minute - or maybe just lost in thought. Even if neither knew what to say to the other, you were still bonding over your traumatic experiences in your own quiet way.

You’re the one who breaks the silence, your voice a bit cracked from your dry throat, “What do you do about the nightmares?”

His eyes leave you for a moment as he considers it. “I leave a book by my nightstand. For some it’s TV, others crossword puzzles. There’s no stopping it. You just have to find what calms you down after.”

You give a nod. You knew there wouldn’t be a magic cure but you still have to take a moment to process that you’ll have to be dealing with it for the foreseeable future.

There’s a long pause before he speaks again, “You dream of him?”

You swallow again, trying to make it easier for you to speak but bail, instead slowly nodding your head.

Another silence falls over you both. A longer, more drawn out one. You both get lost in thought for awhile.

When you interrupt the silence again, the words spill out of you fast, coming out in a jumble and before you can stop yourself. He had that effect on you, making you feel so vulnerable and exposed, ready to spill your guts. Deep down you knew that it’s time to rip the bandaid off. Free yourself from the guilt and the constant fear your world is going to come crashing down around you.

“Do you know what I did?”

He studies you, tilting his head, “What do you mean? About your SOS?”

His response tells you that he truly doesn’t know. If he knew what you did, he’d have known exactly what you’d meant. Regardless, you still make a futile attempt to jog his memory, hoping you won’t have to explain yourself, “How I ended up there? What caused the breach?”

His eyes squint in confusion, “I was told we didn’t know how they received your information.”

Your head tilts down in shame, and you have to look away from him.

You take a deep breath and rest your palms flat on your thighs.

“Okay, look, I’ve done something horrible. I have not been very good to you, and… that sucks! Because I really thought we could have been,” You hesitate for a moment, “friends.” You close your eyes and take another breath, “At first I thought I could keep it a secret from you, even if I believe you have every right to know, but the truth is I just can’t handle the guilt anymore. I’m exhausted waiting for the other shoe to drop, okay?”

Konig’s whole body is tense now, standing at attention as he waits for your words. You’re worrying him.

“The day we met,” You’re choking up now, the adrenaline coursing through you, causing you to shake and perspire, mouth dry, “After our day in the shoot house, I forgot to disconnect your feed.”

Your tone shifts from serious to a bit desperate, “It was an accident, I swear, Konig.” You look at him, pleading eyes begging him to believe you, “And I should have just disconnected the feed when I found it, I know,” You’re getting exasperated, “But I’m sick and curious and to be honest I just couldn’t help myself when I saw you.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his spot, and swallows hard. He knows what you mean, but he has to confirm it with you to believe it, “What did you see?”

You look away from him and to the floor. It takes you a moment to work up the courage, “I saw you getting off.” You say it so quietly, ashamed to admit it.

“I shouldn’t have watched Konig, I shouldn’t have. It was wrong and I know it doesn’t mean anything now but I truly am sorry. But I did watch and I heard my name and I’ve been wracked with guilt ever since.“

He stands still, his breathing escalating slightly. He doesn’t say anything and the silence drapes over you both for awhile.

This silence was definitely awkward.

His eyes tell you nothing and his expression is masked by the hood.

You swallow, knowing you owe him the full truth as you force yourself to continue. If he’s already disgusted with you under that hood, this will really put you over the edge.

Your fist clenches, “In a moment of pure stupidity, I kept the video.” You break eye contact for a brief moment before returning your gaze to him. “I sent it to myself.”

“Okay?” You spit, angry at yourself, “I kept it and I’ve watched it so many times because I am just addicted to the way you moan my name, Konig. I’m sorry. I heard it and I needed more. It made me feel so good, and so so terrible at the same time.”

You’re on a roll now, rambling like you’re talking about your research.

“And I have not been able to stop thinking about you!” You laugh a bit, “And I understand how serious this is. So if you want to go straight to head of command and have me discharged, I won’t hold it against you. In fact, if you don’t even feel like filing the report, I’ll pack up my things and leave now, and you won’t hear from me ever again.”

You pause, and he doesn’t fill the silence, so you keep going, the words coming out like vomit, “But there’s something else you deserve to know. When I sent the video to my phone - for personal reasons only, okay?! I was not planning on showing anyone, if that helps. When I sent the video, it opened a vulnerable point of entry for TF-141 to hack in. They… have your video. I’m so sorry, it was a major lapse of judgement, and I overlooked so many protocols, and I put our intel at risk. I put your private moment at risk. I put us all at risk. I-“

You cut yourself off, tears starting to well in your eyes. It was relieving to get it off your chest, but you knew what was about to happen. You knew you were lighting a fuse with one hand and holding dynamite with another.

“I’m so sorry, Konig.”

The tears start flowing and you’re powerless to stop them. You hoped it wasn’t coming off as a desperate attempt to gain sympathy.

For awhile you stand there, eyes fixed at the floor as you wait for his response.

Konig hasn’t moved, hasn’t said anything, just stands in his spot, staring.

When you finally look at him, eyes full of heartbreak, he maintains eye contact for a few moments, expression unreadable.

After a moments to process, he uncrosses his arms to dig into his pocket, pulling out the device you had given him on that very first day. His boots slowly cross the linoleum floor and he gently sets your device on the dinky table behind you before removing the wristband and setting it down next to the earpiece without making a sound.

He doesn’t even look back at you before he turns his back and walking out the safe house door, shutting it with a soft click.

——————————————————————

It’s been three days since Konig left you alone in the safe house.

You’re wondering if you should cut your losses and leave. Change your name & get started with a new life.

You’ve already preemptively packed up your things to make it less painful on yourself when your supervisor comes to kick you to the curb.

Even as your life is dissolved and scattered to the wind, you actually feel a lot better than you have in months. Almost like the worrying was worse than the actual consequences. At least now you can live honestly.

Nonetheless, it was still pretty painful. Your latest infatuation finding out how you so deeply betrayed them. Watching him walk out on you had left you sobbing face down in the dusty orange couch pillows to muffle your cries.

It’s late at night on that third day, and you had managed to find some respite with a surprisingly warm shower and losing yourself in blurry reruns of a game show when you hear the light ting of metals.

At first you think it’s the ringing in your ears returning, it had been on and off ever since Ghost concussed you, but you quickly realized by the uneven rattles it had been coming from within the safe house.

Your eyes scan the room after switching the TV off, first starting with the fridge that hums too loud, but quickly dart your attention over to the movement of the safe house’s doorknob jiggling.

Not again.

You try and suppress the flashbacks enough to find somewhere to hide, but the safe house is one big open room with a small obscured bedroom that was more bed than room, and you don’t think the bed is high enough off the floor to crawl under.

So instead you freeze on the dingy couch, your heartbeat deafening in your ears as you watch your doorknob wiggle in its loose hold.

There’s a distinct click and then a long pause. You don’t even see the doorknob rotate because the door gets flung open with such speed and force it slams against the wall and bounces back.

“Konig?” You fear melds with confusion as you make sense of the figure rushing in.

He’s already closed most of the gap between you when you manage to squeak out a more alarmed, “Konig!”

It’s scary to have such a large man charge you, especially one you’re so used to being docile around you, one that usually stands hesitantly by the door until invited closer.

You don’t have a lot of time to think about it. Konig grabs you by the crest of the back of your neck with one hand, his other hand lifting up his mask to kiss you without room for arguing.

You let out a surprised gasp that was muffled by the kiss, and he takes that opportunity to have his tongue greet yours. His grip is tight on the back of your neck, his fingers digging in slightly to stake his claim. The stubble on his chin brushes roughly against your skin as he takes what’s his.

Once you catch up, you close your eyes and try to match his intensity but it’s difficult to keep up.

He finally pulls away, out of breath and letting his hood fall back over his mouth, his now free hand moving to the side of your face, “I’m sorry I left you, mein schatz.” He pulls away from your face slightly with a breath, “I needed to think.”

Your wide eyes flicker between his, mouth slightly parted as you nod. “Yeah,” your voice is breathy, the shock of the kiss having knocked the wind out you, “That’s uh, understandable.”

He brings his face closer to you. His eyes shift, and you see that dark flicker again.

“You have to understand, liebe, your deed will not go unpunished.”

Your brows retract as you swallow at the threat, looking up at him with concern in your eyes and your thighs pressed together.

You’ve been nervous around Konig before, maybe even scared, but you’ve never feared for your safety. Quite the opposite, actually. Such a large, strong soldier on your team gives you a shield of comfort - he made you feel safe.

But the way his voice had lowered and his eyes tinted with something primal shoots a tingle down your spine and raises the hairs on your neck. You’re not sure what he means, but your brain is coming up with ideas faster than you can sink your teeth into the details.

You’re almost ashamed at the warm feeling of arousal that sinks to your lower abdomen.

He kisses you again, this time closed and softer. When he pulls away his face stays dangerously close to yours, “You’ve done a very bad thing, liebe. You understand?”

His voice is low and husked but holds incredible authority. You can’t help but feel like a child being scolded in the principal’s office. You nod slowly, lips pursed and eyes still rounded in suspense.

He brings his finger up to your chin, his face close enough your noses are brushing, “I can’t hear a nod.”

The knot in your stomach doubles and your breath hitches a bit, shaking as you speak, “Yes, Konig, I understand.”

His thumb strokes your cheek, but it doesn’t soothe the mixture of fear and arousal flushing your skin.

“Would you like to right your wrong?”

You take a deep breath. You’re not sure what you’re agreeing to, but you’ve been desperate to fix what you’ve done since the moment you committed it. “Yes, Konig.” You nod your head, “I’d do anything.”

A pleased hum comes from him, and you're close enough to feel the vibration. You swallow nervously, gaze hesitantly watching his animalistic eyes stare down at you like you’re his prey.

“Stay.” He orders, pulling away from you and letting his hand linger on your face for an extra moment before turning away from you.

You obey, both fear of consequence and desperation to please not allowing an ounce of will to defy him. Your eyes are still locked on him as he steps to the dinky little table he had set the device on three days ago.

You had left it untouched, making it easier to swallow by still thinking of the device as his. As if Konig had just left it behind by mistake instead of intentionally returning your property to you.

He took both carefully in his hand before returning to you, boots asserting themselves as they slowly and confidently traverse the linoleum. He holds the devices out for you to take. “Feed on. Projection off.”

And you follow his instructions, what choice do you have? When his voice is strict and he’s standing over you, intimidating stature making you feel so small and defenseless. The shake of your hands causes your fingers to fumble as you struggle with the remote, his hand held out impatiently as you stumble with fluster.

When you finally get it, you place both devices in his palm, staring up with your eyes begging for his approval.

He gives you nothing, as usual, placing the earpiece under his hood and setting the wrist piece down simultaneously.

“You stepped out of line, liebe.” Konig takes closer to small gap between you you, “You humiliated me.”

His eyes are half-lidded now, boring into you with menace.

“And now I’m going to humiliate you.”

He touches your face with his thumb again. You can’t help but flinch at the gentle touch, on edge from unease and excitement.

He gives another light huff, reveling in his ability to intimidate you.

“On your knees.” He commands, finger pointing at the floor as he slides back to make room for you.

He huffs in satisfaction at the dumbfounded look on your face. Your mouth slightly agape and stuttering - it’s dawning on you now; exactly what you have to do to right your wrongs.

He squints at you, voice leaving no room for error, “Did I stutter, Schatz?”

That sinister glint in his eye returns again, and just the sight is enough to get you to slide quickly to the floor, assuming your position on both knees, neck slowly tilting back to take him in as he towers over you.

He leans in to to cup your face again, giving it a soft yet firm pat, “Good.”

Your heart flutters at the praise, even if simply articulated.

That’s all you want to hear. That you’re good. You want to be so good for him.

You’re dripping now, Konig already having you ache for his touch.

His strong hands slide down your face, four fingers cupping your jaw as his thumb brushes your bottom lip gently. When your lips part he slides his thumb in your mouth and you oblige, obediently sucking and showing him what you can do with your tongue.

He gives a low pleased hum before removing his thumb and reaching for his belt, the buckle jingling as he unlatches it and removes it from his waist in one swift pull.

Your stare follows the belt as he folds it in half, and he muses at your worried look. He likes the way your mind wanders, always running with the possibilities. It’s what drew you to him in the first place.

He doesn’t hit you, though, just taps it against the bottom of your chin to get you to fix your gaze back on him. Once he’s got your attention, he discards the belt and reaches down to pop the button on his pants, yanking each end to get the zipper down in one smooth move.

He slides his thumbs behind both waistbands, pulling them down just enough to expose his cock. It’s rock hard and practically springs from his pants, and you can’t help but let out a small squeak and just how big it is.

You’ve seen it before, studied it endlessly, imagined it so many times.

It did nothing to prepare you for kneeling before it. Just like the rest of him, his cock intimidated you, at full attention and already leaking precum.

“Wrap your hands around it, schatz.”

You follow his orders, softly gripping his cock. You’ve studied the video of him jerking off so many times, you know exactly how to please him. You start with a loose grip, your hand sliding from base to tip at a slow pace, as your other hand cups his balls.

At first he watches, enjoying how your hands looked so small around him. He can’t help but close his eyes and tilt his head back as he lets out a soft moan.

It sounds so much better in person, and your pace picks up, desperate to elicit more from him.

He tilts his head forward to get a better view of you.

“Suck.” He commands, and you hesitate for a brief moment, worried about the logistics, before ditching your fears and giving it your best shot.

You keep your hand steady on his shaft as you guide the tip to your tongue, a slow lick clearing the bead of pre-cum that had formed.

He lets out another low moan that makes you quiver.

You press your lips to him, slowing working the tip into your mouth as you tease with your tongue.

As you work steadily down his shaft, you have to fully unhinge your jaw to fit him in to avoid teeth, and even then it’s a close call. You’re continue carefully and he seems willing to be patient with you as you get used to his size.

You manage to somewhat comfortably fit half of him in your mouth, using your free hand to squeeze the base of his shaft. You start to move back and forth, pressing your tongue against him.

He watches in awe as you take him in, not holding back in his pleaded hums and groans.

“So good, Schatz.”

Warmth pools in your chest at the praise.

You look at him with a doe eyes and a full mouth, bobbing on his cock as you slick it up.

He moans at the sight, placing a hand on the back of your head. He follows it up with another order.

“Deeper. I want to see you choke on it.”

You’re not in a position to argue, so you oblige, letting his cock slide as deep as you can, but he’s not pleased with your attempt. He tightens his grip on the back of your head, fingers laced between strands of hair, and slowly forces his cock in until you’re squeaking out noises involuntarily, eyes welling with tears.

He starts to fuck your mouth, slowly at first, but picks up the pace. He doesn’t wait for you to get your bearings or catch your breath, savoring the lengths you’ll go to please him.

“There you go, schatz, so good for me.”

The tears are steaming now as he triggers your gag reflex, and your underwear is stained with your arousal in response to being praised and used.

He pulls out of your mouth, his cock still wet with your spit, and takes a step back to admire you. Your breath quickening to catch up, the flushed look of your face, the disheveled hair. He relished in the mess he was making of the intelligent professional he had come to know.

He gives a pleased hum at how you wait so patiently for his next order.

“Up. Clothes off.”

Your breath hitched, cheeks flushing a shade deeper. You wipe the spit from your mouth and slowly stand, hands shaking with nerves.

Your fingers dig into the hem of your shirt, desperate to grip onto something, and you hesitate at his command, nervous to let him see you even more exposed.

You ignore your nerves, too willing to please Konig, and pull your shirt over your disheveled hair and discard it on the couch. Your fingers fumble with the waistband on your lounge pants, sheepishly pulling them down your thighs and stepping carefully out of them.

You stand before him in your underwear, and you can’t help but cross one arm over yourself. The way he’s staring at you, not shy about his gaze mapping your newly uncovered features. He steps forward again, close enough his hard cock brushes against your warm skin.

He gives a low hum of approval and steps closer, his hands gently running along your sides until they find your waist, staking their claim with a firm grip. He leans in and you feel the drape of his hood caress your shoulder as he brushes his head against yours, lips in your ear.

“You’re so beautiful, meine schatz.”

You close your eyes as he plants a kiss though his hood on your neck, and you can feel his breath through the soft cotton.

It’s not fair that you’re naked while he’s still fully covered. You feel so vulnerable and exposed.

You quickly understand that’s exactly what you had done to him and let out a soft whimper at the realization that this is intentional, that he’s issuing this power play as part of your punishment. You’ve had your time to admire his body, now it’s his turn.

“Bedroom, now.” The softness leaves his voice with the demand and he pulls away from you once again to get a better view of you.

The knot is your lower abdomen doubles as you turn and head to the bedroom, giving him a good long look at the back of you.

You stand at the narrow space between the end of the bed and the wall, looking up at him when he enters, waiting for his next order. You can’t help but notice the jingle of his belt as he carried it with him. He sets it on the bed and takes his time committing your image to memory.

“On your back, liebe.” The pet name doesn’t soften the domineering tone, warning you not to dare rebel against him.

You follow his order, getting up on the bed and laying down for him, your upper half propped up by your elbows.

Konig follows, crawling over top of you slowly, his massive frame engulfing you beneath him as you lean into the bed. He appears even more menacing over top of you, strong arms and legs trapping you beneath him. You can’t help the nervous expression on your face as you stare up at those hungry eyes.

He brings a hand up to touch your face, leaning forward to plant another kiss on your lips, lifting up his mask as he does so. It annoys you that whenever he pulls away the hood falls, and you can’t even get a peek at what you assume is a strong jaw.

The hand on your face slides down your neck, fingers traversing the bumps of your collarbones before he shifts down to your chest, stopping for a moment to tease your nipples to attention. You suck in a breath and arch into the touch.

He hums again, low and devious.

Your hands reach up to touch his arms, but he doesn’t let you, removing his hands from your chest and grabbing your wrists firmly. He passes one off so he can hold both of your arms in one strong grip, and you’re amazed he’s able to subdue both of your wrists with just one of his massive hands. He leans back and uses his free hand to reach for the belt at the foot of the bed, before wrapping it around your wrists and fastening the buckle tightly.

He leans in close to your face as he places your restrained hands back above your head. He takes in the way your breath quickens through parted lips, eyes wide and cheeks flush with excitement and worry. He likes making you falter, likes watching you breakdown underneath his power.

“You’re all mine.” He reminds you, one hand keeping your bound wrists firmly above your head.

You nod, and when you speak your voice comes out quiet and broken, “All yours, Konig.”

It gratifies him, judging by his self-assured laugh and the way his cock twitches against your stomach. “That’s it, liebe.”

He removes his grip on your forearm with a firm squeeze to remind you to stay, and he scoots himself back so that either leg is straddling your thighs instead of your waist. His gaze shifts down, soaking in every inch as he cups you over your underwear, his careful touch taking advantage of your sensitivity.

You can’t help but grind your hips into his teasing, already leaking for him.

“Mm, I can tell you’re enjoying this. Such a dirty little pervert you are.”

You close your eyes and let out a whine at the teasing, both verbal and physical.

“Don’t worry, liebe, I’m getting impatient as well.”

He slips his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, sliding his fingers along your hips to tease you a bit before sliding them down, having to readjust himself as he takes them off. He repositions himself between your legs this time, letting either of your ankles at his sides.

His hands slide up your quivering thighs, spreading you open and getting a good look at you. You try and fight the embarrassment under the heat of his stare, resisting the urge to bring your bound wrists down to cover yourself.

He takes his time slicking himself up with lube - he came prepared, you noticed. Premeditated passion. Guess he has to when he’s got such a large cock.

You’re worried about the logistics, but you get the feeling Konig wouldn’t dare hurt you in this way.

Once he’s nice and slicked, he lines the tip against your aching warmth, and leans down close to you.

“Are you ready, meine liebe?”

“Please, Konig.” You whine, rutting your hips to grind against him.

He closes his eyes as he slowly works himself into you. Your suspicions are confirmed as he stops just after the tip, opening his eyes again to confirm the level of comfort displayed on your features.

Your teeth are grit, but you nod your head in approval.

He’s continues, pace so careful as he pushes himself further into you. It’s been so long since you’ve got any action, especially action from someone so well endowed, you’re incredibly tight around him. He’s studying you, searching for signs of being pushed over the limit as he takes his time stretching you out.

You can’t help let out a soft moan when he’s halfway in, just at the feeling of being filled. Your eyes flutter shut, giving yourself the ability to concentrate on the cock working into you.

It takes awhile, it does. You’re so small and he’s so big, but he doesn’t seem to mind, enjoying using you as his cockwarmer, walls so cozy and tight around him. He thinks it’s so goddamn arousing that he’s so huge you have to push yourself to take him. He likes that he’s a challenge for you. He wants to train you and shape you in every sense of the word.

But for now, he allows you take the lead from underneath him, letting yourself grind your hips down on to him at your own pace as he lets low moans escape him.

When you’re finally at the point of desperately rutting your hips against him, you give him all he needs to hear.

“Fuck me, Konig, please fuck me.”

He obliges, unable to say no to your eager and breathy tone. His fingers grip onto your outer thighs as he thrusts into you. His pace is quick, but he’s still cautious not to force himself too deep inside you. He’s a disciplined man, after all.

Even without being all the way inside you, he’s still deep enough to hit the spot, forcing moans to escape from parted lips.

“Look at me, liebe.”

You oblige, and his cock twitches inside of you at the sight of your half-lidded eyes glazed in pleasure. He grunts, his pace picking up as he ventures deeper inside of you.

You can’t help the mutters and moans spilling from you. Your hands mindlessly move from above your head to his chest, tugging on the fabric of his shirt.

“You feel so good. So good for me, schatz.”

You moan in response, and he decides he’s worked you open enough to push all the way in.

You’re cockdrunk now. Breathy moans escaping without thought, eyes unfocused and body limp to his desires.

When he suddenly pulls out you whine. “Koni- please.”

“On your front.” He commands as he sits back on his knees, towering over you.

You’re flush and out of breath as you do as he says, positioning yourself the best you can with your hands bound. On all fours, head down towards the pillows as you arch your back.

The bed shifts under him as he scoots close before giving your ass a firm smack, the gasp leaving your mouth more out of surprise than pain. He gives you a few more, alternating between your cheeks. Just enough to leave handprints behind, marking you as his own.

He lines up with you again, pressing into you without hesitation.

You both let out moans at the return of warmth. He’s less gentle now, pounding into you hard enough the sound of flesh crashing together fills the room. The creaky bed is slamming against the dingy walls and your thighs are rippling on impact. You can’t help but quiver as the pleasure washes through you.

He’s got such a rhythmic pace, slamming into you while he grips your hips tight to keep you still.

“All mine.” He growls between breathy groans.

You can't even respond, practically drooling into the pillows as Konig fucks you senseless. A string of broken praises fall from your lips, mostly nonsense. Konig leans in and leaves little kisses down your back, without breaking his pace.

“Koni, I’m gon’na- fuck, Konig.”

“Come for me, meine liebe.”

Your eyes pinch shut and a broken moan leaves your lips as you ride the waves of intense pleasure washing through you. It’s enough to make your entire body clench, your walls gripping onto Konig.

He doesn’t let up, forcing your thighs open as he mercilessly pounds you through orgasm.

He gives your ass another firm smack, and your fingers are clawing desperately at the pillows, searching for any sort of stability but you’re powerless to Konig and his forceful cock.

You’re on cloud nine, feeling so far away from your body as you’re washed up on the shores of pleasure. Konig’s strength is the only thing holding you steady.

“I’m going to come, schatz.” He warns, moaning your name just like he did on the video before he fills you up and stakes his claim deep inside you.

His fingers dig into your thighs as his muscles tense under his clothes, his thrusts and moans becoming uneven as he loses himself to the euphoric gratification.

He pauses for a few moments after he slows to a stop, taking a moment to catch his breath as he lets his cock warm inside you.

He pulls out of you with a low grunt, watching the come that spills out of you. When he releases his grip on you, you’re too weak to support yourself, sliding limp on your front and basking in the afterglow of your orgasm.

He takes pleasure in knowing he marked you, completely broke you down and disheveled you. Made you feel so good you have to collect yourself afterwards.

He steps out for a moment before quickly returning with something to clean you both up with.

He’s gentle with the clean-up, wiping away the mixture of lube and come from you while minding your sensitivity, not wanting to disturb your bliss. He removes the belt from your wrists as well.

“Konig? Cuddle.” You mutter, arm stretching across the bedspread.

You don’t see the smile underneath his hood, but after he wipes himself off he joins you back on the bed, the mattress creaking for a final time as he pulls you in a spoon. You feel so safe and small, pressed into him like this. His strong arms wrapped around you. His chest on your back. You let out a pleased hum.

“That’s going to make a nice video.” He says, removing his earpiece and turning it off as he sets it on the bed.

“You can have the real thing anytime.” You say, eyes closed with a warm smile on your face.

He hums low in your ear and gives you a kiss on the cheek, “You’re forgiven, Schatz.”

“Thank you Koni.”

You both drift off, tired out from your intense finishes.

You stay close throughout the night, but having him pressed into you unfortunately didn’t stop the nightmares. When you wake up in a panic, kicking and screaming at the latest renditioning of your mind’s unresolved trauma, Konig’s there to press his hand to your heart, telling you that everything’s okay, it was just a nightmare.

Your breath is still rapid and your heart is still pounding as you steady yourself, transitioning yourself back to reality after the night terror.

He hugs you so tight, reminding you about how he’ll always be there to protect you, that no one will ever hurt you again, he will not let anything happen to you.

You steady yourself, and he knows well enough how hard it is to calm yourself after such an immersive terrifying experience.

“I brought something for that, Schatz.”

When he leaves the room you think he’s going to bring you a book, a puzzle, something to do to distract yourself.

What he brings back makes you tense, your eyes widening at the gift. He sets it down for you, getting back into the bed and resuming his position wrapped around you, protecting you. But your eyes are glued to the gift, the full implications sinking in.

Konig had set down Ghost’s mask.

“No one will find out about your secret. I took care of it.”

You don’t need him to explain further. You know Ghost will never have the opportunity to hurt you again.

“Thank you, Konig.”

He kisses your shoulder through his hood, “My pleasure, meine liebe. Sleep tight.”

And you do.

Original Works Masterlist

#konig #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig modern warfare #konig mw2 #call of duty #cod #modern warefare ii #modern warefare 2 #konig x reader #smut #konig x you #x reader #fic #experimental #uhohwriting

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astroismypassion · 2 years

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Astrology observations ☕️ ☕️ ☕️

Credit goes to my astrology Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

☕️ Aries Rising is very “what you see, is what you get” person. Also, even when they get married they could just see it as just another day in their life. Also, they are just as adventurous and experimental as a Sagittarius Rising!

☕️ Virgo and Gemini Lilith might prefer online dating/chatting before meeting you in person, because they like to have control over their image, words, what you perceive them and take more time and thought to respond. They usually have “a curated image” going on with their behaviour.

☕️ Taurus Moon might really struggle with daily showering, shaving and other hygiene. They constantly postpone it or sometimes feel to lazy to do it. They would also buy expensive clothing and shoes, but are too cheap to get a haircut.

☕️ Taurus Moons also might marry their first love, very much the type “date to marry”. Even if you break up with them, there’s a high chance they might run after you again in the future.

☕️ Aries Chiron or Chiron in the 1st house has a name that gets constantly mispronounced. Or there are several ways to say it.

☕️ Okay, so this one might get a bit controversial, but when people with 8th house synastry break up or break off the connection, those around them, who know them, react STRONGLY. And by that I mean other people can be heart-broken, really down or feel like they don’t believe in true love anymore. Whichever the option, it’s like people feel the heartbreak too. Just look at any major celebrity couple with 8th house: Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield, Miley Cyrus and Liam Hemsworth, Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber and many more. These relationships STILL get talked about even years after people seem to be “heartbroken” along with them.

☕️ When Capricorn Moon woman doesn’t like someone’s mothering style, they won’t like their children as well. 😬

☕️ I still don’t know YET why, but honestly check guy’s Pallas Athene to see how (non)committal he is. I saw a pattern with Aquarius Pallas being highly individualistic and not wanting a relationship, Virgo Pallas men who are workaholics and might pull the “I’m focusing on my career, I don’t have time for a relationship” card and Aries Pallas who are just too selfish to even consider sharing something, so they shy away from any concept of a relationship. I would say much more positive would be Taurus or 2nd house Pallas, maybe even Libra Pallas (though he might be extra flirty or have multiple crushes😬).

☕️ You can learn SO MUCH from Solar Return charts. You want to know if you will be entering a long-term partnership? Search for Venus in the 7th house! You might hang out more with sign that fall into your 1st, 7th house. Which sign you might not really see much (if even) that year, it’s the sign over your 12th house. Who you will be talking to only on social media/online? Check 11th house sign, but also where your Mercury is. Also when you might decide AGAINST entering a partnership? Mercury, Uranus, Moon, Saturn and sometimes even Jupiter in the 7th house in Solar Return chart. If someone’s sign falls over your 4th house, you might be visiting their hometown or be in their home that year, or even live together.

So my point, if you are feeling someone and want to know if this is even going somewhere, my advice would be to check your Solar Returns for 2, 3 years ahead. If their Sun sign is the sign in the 7th house one year, they could be very romantic, charming to you that particular year. Next year, their sign is over your 12th house, you might not see that person much (if even). They could start living at a distance from you (like a different country even).

☕️ You could view people with the same Sun sign as your Juno sign as having your ideal partnership or ideal marriage. If you have Gemini Juno, you could think Gemini Suns know how to do relationships or even envy them their partnership.

☕️ I noticed a common correlation that you tend to marry or have a significant long-term relationship with the following Sun sign:

@astroismypassion ‘s compatibility (birth number - Sun sign) theory

If you are born on the 1st of any month you could be in a significant relationship with the following Sun sign: Aries Sun or Libra Sun, even Capricorn Sun,

2nd, 8th, 17th, 20th, 26th: Taurus or Scorpio Sun,

3rd, 9th, 12th, 18th, 21st, 24th, 27th, 30th: Gemini or Sagittarius Sun,

4th,13th, 31st: Cancer or Capricorn Sun,

5th, 14th, 23rd: Leo or Aquarius Sun,

6th, 15th: Virgo or Sagittarius Sun, even Gemini,

7th, 16th, 25th: Libra or Scorpio Sun, even Aries Sun,

10th, 28th: Capricorn Sun, Cancer Sun, also Aries Sun,

22nd: Cancer, Taurus, Capricorn Sun,

11th, 29th: Aquarius or Leo Sun, even Taurus Sun

☕️ Scorpio Moon men want a woman who will provide for their security, travels, other things they desire. They want someone to support them financially.

☕️ Pisces Venus dislikes games of seduction when talking to someone. They want other people to be more honest and upfront about it, because they dislike guessing. These are also the types to say that people “play too many games”.

Credit goes to my astrology Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

#astrology blog #astro notes #astrology observations #astrology #astroismypassion #astroblr #astro community #astrology observation #astro note #taurus moon #virgo lilith #gemini lilith #scorpio moon #pisces venus

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teekays · 9 months

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everyone makes fun of roope's outfits and then turns around and is like oh hockey player fashion sense is so boringgg no one slayssss like is roope nothing to you? she's dirt beneath your shoes? he wakes up every day with that fuck ass haircut and says how can i bamboozle the girls today. how can i get everyone talking. and he DOES. he is TRYING. he is PUTTING IN THE WORK. experimentally serving like he's the head chef at a michelin starred restaurant!!!! do NOT be ungrateful.

#there are misses. there definitely are misses. but who else is giving you fits like that... no one.#teddyposting

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asterlark · 9 months

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today in Leverage Thoughts That Make Me Sad- it's canon that eliot has a much better than average memory, and we see this in a few ways:

the extensive and minute knowledge he has of things like helicopter and bullet sounds, and what different groups of military look like based on haircuts and stances, always brushed off with "it's a very distinctive ___"

the knowledge he gathers from women he dates, paying attention to things like what's currently fashionable, what flight attendants prefer to be called, etc; again brushed off with "what? i dated a ___"

the speech in the experimental job about him remembering everyone he's ever killed, up to and including their names, what they wore, and what food was on their breath

if you've rewatched the show at all or pay attention to eliot specifically in any scene, you'll notice that he observes people very closely. i think this goes back to a hyper-vigilance he's cultivated through his days in the military and doing wetwork- probably especially in working with moreau. if your circumstances are that difficult to navigate, and if you can only really depend on yourself, of course you're going to notice and remember details about people. you'd have to develop that skill, to have the knowledge to give yourself options if you ever needed to escape suddenly.

also, for eliot's job in retrieval, he had to be a successful grifter somewhat often, so it makes sense that he'd find it important to both notice and remember small details about other people in that setting as well. cultivating that skill with people, with lying and charming, was a survival instinct.

all of this is to say- eliot has always done this, remembered little things about people, in service of his own survival (he's loaned out the skill to others, but you can argue that work is based in a survival instinct too... anyway). during the course of leverage we start to see him using these skills not only to protect other people, but to make them happy too. while he's risking his life every day to protect the team, he's also using his excellent memory to do things like buy parker a fucking plant that does something and say it's from hardison!

he wants to go beyond simply protecting them, he loves them and wants to show it- but he won't take the credit. eliot doesn't believe he's worth loving. he doesn't believe he'll ever be actually loved back, let alone loudly, by parker and hardison.

so he lets the credit be on hardison, he talks to them both and gives them advice about each other, he tells them in the rundown job to get on a plane out of d.c. so he can take whatever's coming himself. he pushes them away, towards each other, because he wants them to be happy and he thinks they will be happiest not knowing him that deeply.

but he also couldn't bear not being in their lives, not standing with them every day and protecting them from harm- so he puts his body, his memory, his mind in service of them, every single day. just... always from a distance. and he thinks he's doing it for them, to protect them, but he's doing it for himself out of fear of rejection. because he doesn't think he's good enough, worthy enough, of love. and that's so fucking sad.

#this is why i can't stand redemption for not having the ot3 be together #you're telling me it's been the 3 of them for YEARS and eliot's still on the outside telling himself he'll never be with them?#you're telling me he's right??#i refuse to believe it #leverage #eliot spencer #ot3 #credit to jam unlonelist for the phrase 'he pushes them away toward each other'#mine

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nogu-d-reamers · 1 month

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MORE ABOUT LIBBY AND #1202.

(this Sketch are the first concept about Libby and Dogday + a little Bit of lore of them).

MORE ABOUT LIBBY:

As mentioned above, she was an orphan who ended up in the playtime CO adoption program to be adopted by one of the employees at playcare, and was selected as to be one of the smiling critters, specifically; Dogday. (I don't think that the gender of the children is a great influence in deciding which children will be experiments for the bigger bodies initiative.)

She lost her parents because of a "strange religion" so the topic is something delicate for her.

Originally due to all the reasons, the team of scientists wanted to place it in "experimentation" as soon as possible (#1189-#1201); However, it started to be a problem when a certain Playtime manager had taken a liking to her and had her under some protection.

She was known for being a quite sociable and charismatic child among other orphans, however with adults she was a completely different thing being withdrawn and quiet.

She used to be constantly hurt and wearing Band-Aids (playTime co. trademark) due to her own childhood hyperactivity and was often an easy target for older children caused by the panic of not being adopted. (Libby in general did not usually betray them or return evil because she did not see the point of revenge).

Extra note: he reason for her appearance in the story (specifically her haircut and several of his clothes) is based on several protagonists of Ghibli films.

She favorite food was the po' boys sandwiches and chicken and waffles (which causes a misunderstanding when, already converted into dogday, he said "man, how much I would kill to eat a po' boy" and catnap left him the body of a deceased child).

Her favorites Playtime Co. toys are the smiling critters, Candy cat and PJ pug-a-pillar (although Libby was only able to buy 2 smiling critters at the toy store during his entire stay at playcare)

She hates the playtime Co. Doctor's, according to her because they were very rude and scary.

Libby "died" at the age of 9 due to an attack by the prototype.

About Dogday/#1202:

It should be noted that Libby's clear annoyance and confusion at being turned into dogday made it difficult for the playtime co. scientists deal with him.

The biggest problem in being turned into dogday in a curious way was not the fact that it was referred to as masculine; Instead, they put Dr. Sawyer's voice on the voice box.

extra note: dogday has no problem being referred to as a boy (he/him), however it was VERY confusing for him at first and many times he did not respond or had a hard time saying that; so he started referring to himself in the third person "dogday says..." or "dogday thinks...". He keeps his true identity a secret so that there is no confusion about what to call him (although he will be happy when he is treated femininely)

Returning to the topic of the voice box, this was a strategy of scientists who were aware of the fear and rejection that Dr. Harley Sawyer and that unlike Elliot Ludwing, he did not have a very charismatic personality or very kind to them in general. So, adding the fact that they had to turn Libby into an experiment, they thought that if Dogday had the same voice and interacted with the little ones in a friendly way, they could trick the children into confusing the smiling critter's voice with that of the scientist. (Dogday refused to collaborate; being the one who fears and rejects the doctor the most, so he learned to imitate the cartoon's voice as best as possible).

That made him create a sworn enmity with the scientists; constantly punishing him when the children did not see him, denying him food and when they gave him food it was portions of poor quality raw meat (which made Dogday prefer to endure hunger than eat it).

Not counting that enmity with the scientists, due to his duties in the counselor's office as an assistant and "therapy dog" for the children who came, he had a broader perspective that there were "angel employees" and "evil employees." even witnessing when one was upset about the whereabouts of one of the children he was going to adopt and hearing their complains about not being able to get out of there.

About... PLAYER?!:

(hell yeah... This story is more complicated...)

Remember when I mentioned that the reason Libby hadn't been experimented on before was because a high-up Playtime official had taken a liking to her? well, whoever she was the player is the person.

At first both were irrelevant to each other's lives (the player because he was just another worker, and Libby because of her shyness with adults); However, after an absurd incident with Barry's toy, it was enough for them to meet.

Once Libby had come into confidence with Player, she can't pronounce his name correctly, so she affectionately call to him as "Mr. Angel" and ran to hug him, give him drawings and crafts made in class whenever she could.

The scientists thought that perhaps it was a ruse to get the girl to believe in him, in any case they knew that he had already done more terrible things for the company... but they were shocked to know that he was taking the issue of Libby seriously as a legitimate adoption. even giving her gifts along the way (including the famous "tragedy dress").

Once Player entered the complex adoption process to be able to take Libby from Playcare, he learned the worst side of the scientists and managers of Playtime Co.; He spent two whole years fighting for it until he was able to find a legal loophole where either the girl would be handed over to him or he would publicly declare everything the company has done without caring that it would sink him in the process.

...unfortunately the day he was going to take her, she disappeared and only a bloody piece of the sunflower dress she was wearing that day appeared; and scientists left her for dead in an accident in the restricted area.

After Libby's disappearance and "dead", Player was never able to return to playcare so he demanded to be changed sections shortly before Dogday went into operation. They were never able to cross paths again.

a massacre and 10 years later; They cross paths again. Dogday cannot recognize his "Mr. Angel" and only called him that because it was the first time in a long time that he heard friendly footsteps; However, the mere fact that he referred to "Angel" and that player assumed that all the bigger bodies were children, it didn't take him long to realize that that poor ragged dog would be his sweet little Libby.

The shock of that possibility was so great that the mere idea made him remain paralyzed while the bigger dog said his monologue before he warned him to run away from there.

Extra note: in the timeline where he did react in time and saved Dogday from that cruel fate, he couldn't help but burst into tears and hug him, begging for forgiveness. while dogday would be confused.

About Theodore Grambel/Catnap/#1188:

(Let's not lie to each other, everyone even me came for this-)

Ohh boy... How I can start this?...

Their relationship was one-sized from minute 0.

Libby wanted to be friends with Theo however she wanted, because she considered him to be a very shy and quiet boy; Theodore, she tried to talk about him all the time with different topics until she could find a common topic.

Theodore for his way... he only considered her annoying and a waste of time to spend with his true friend, 1006.

Which got worse when Libby realized that, like her, he was a fan of the smilling critters show and that it bothered him that Catnap had disappeared from the shelves (she was even able to give him his catnap stuffed animal to keep him happy; which he still thinks is a nuisance but he appreciates the stuffed animal)

When Theodore disappeared, Libby got really sad; while Theo couldn't care less that it was Libby's... that is, until her resistance to her poppy gas became present and Catnap had to be more aware of her. (in the end it could be useful to his angel)

dogday also strived to be friendly with catnap and that it will integrate with the others.

That unilateral dynamic is cut when the theme of the "hour of joy" becomes present.

dogday understands everyone's motives in wanting to participate; but it starts to be a problem for catnap when your "and there's no other way?" along with their “and then what?” They made other toys start to doubt the prototype... that annoyance towards Dogday turned into legitimate hatred.

Extra note: In an alternative line where Theo likes Libby things would be slightly different, he would be rude because he doesn't know how to be sweet with her and he would even ask 1006 for advice on how to be romantic (of course it would end in failure).

Despite everything, for Dogday things would only end up being him alone, being the last smiling critter standing, completely a prisoner and feeling stupid for having wanted to be friends with that thing called catnap.

#smiling critters #dogday headcanon #poppy playtime catnap #poppy playtime dogday #poppy playtime #poppy playtime player #dogday #catnap #theodore grambell #lilibeth faith #libby

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planet-dusk · 9 months

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you should definitely share the fem!skz thoughts with the rest of the class mhmmm mhmm totally not because i need them more than oxygen or anything 🙄

i was thinking,, what kind of aesthetic would the fem!skz members have...

chan would have emo/e-girl vibes, the type of girl whose wardrobe consists of 99% black. lots of silver jewelry. the chunkier kind,, black leather too, and of course her nails would be painted black as well (a little chipped from biting them). pleated skirts, chain belts and oversized sweaters. big platform shoes to make her look taller and fishnet stockings to show off her pretty legs <33 n piercings! a nose & belly button piercing for sure bc of course chan would have the prettiest tummy :)) her preferred hair color would be black (relaxed, not curled) or 2 tone with either black + silver grey or a neon color

leeknow's style would be a mixture of comfortable athleisure and a more preppy clean aesthetic. padded jackets, hoodies, sweatpants and ofc converse :)) minimal jewelry,, if any. probably just some (cat) bracelets. she'd prefer to dye her hair in natural colors like dark brown. in winter she wears soft chunky wool sweaters. she uses very little makeup but she loves her cherry chapstick, and how it makes her lips all sweet and sticky and kissable <33

changbin would be such a babygirl ! the prettiest in pink, always showing off her gorgeous body <33 the cleavage on this girl 😵‍💫 she'd act all coy about it but loves it when people comment on how pretty she looks today,, bc she works hard for it and everyone should know! would def match her eyeshadow to her top <33 her hair would be black and curled, either short or long she looks great in both :)) binnie's a dress girl, she loves short bodycon dresses (n of course hidden underneath are her perky nipple piercings 🤭)

hyunjin would be the epitome of artsy elegance,, pretty silver rings adorning her long fingers. she keeps her hair short so it doesn't get in the way when she's painting. loves flowy oversized button ups that look like she stole them from someone else's closet. experiments with makeup sometimes but prefers to keep things more natural,, including her hair (but bleaches it sometimes). honestly looks like a dream whatever she wears <33

han would be right at home in leeknow's sweaters :)) sungie loves borrowing her friends' clothes. her style is similar to minho's but with some edgier street vibes thrown in,, like bucket hats and ripped jeans or cargo pants. goes through experimental phases (including a punk phase and dying her hair all colors of the rainbow) but always falls back on her comfy clothes <33 never goes far without her noise canceling headphones

felix likes expensive things,, likes them to be well fitted and neat. she loves soft n cute things too and often mixes aesthetics. a natural blonde <33 knows exactly what flatters her features (makeup, clothes, etc). could be wearing some high end jewelry paired with fluffy knee socks — anything she feels like,, and she looks amazing in it. bright and light colors look best on her but at night she'll turn up wearing a tiny black dress and make everyone do a double take 😵‍💫

seungmin breathes academia vibes! somewhere between light and dark academia, but always looking sharp and pristine. the kind of timeless beauty who knows how to accentuate her features,, with the perfect haircut (somewhere in the middle) and the right amount of makeup to make her beautiful face stand out. she'd wear tortoiseshell rimmed glasses,, a vintage pair she found in a shop downtown. lots of warm brown leather and tweed to finish off her daily look <33

i.n is on top of all the latest trends. she's just so cool 😫 her style is trendy but relaxed,, a city vibe with her oversized jackets and her shoe collection. rocks a bob or a ponytail like no other ! she buys vintage sometimes,, stuff like those 80s adidas jackets, seamlessly mixing them with her modern day sneakers. her style is very laid back but she knows how to dress up n loves a good red lip <33

#answered #comet-falls #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #;skz headcanons

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theunderestimator-2 · 7 months

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Daniel Ash of Bauhaus, Tones on Tail, Love and Rockets, Poptone & Bubblemen, here as captured in 2001 for a promo pic by Chris Jensen.

"Post-Punk.com: Do you think the whole association with Bauhaus being Goth is ridiculous? Daniel Ash: It’s a weird one. To me, the whole Goth thing is very one dimensional. It’s sort of cloak and dagger. It’s ok, it has its place, it’s fun, but we just find it funny that we’re thought of as that (…) I think a lot of it is the imagery, but we never actually spoke about what we looked like when we started out. We never mentioned wearing black, never mentioned makeup or any of it. I know for Peter and myself, we were pretty obsessed with the whole Bowie thing, and the visuals were really important to us, so without even saying anything it was like, “Damn right I’m gonna wear eyeshadow and have a funny haircut because that’s where I come from and that’s what I feel like.” …Ironically, we’re just like the original Bauhaus movement, which is art for function, the opposite of gothic. It was about art being very simple and functional, which is just like the music that we made. However, we were very flamboyant visually, so we had those two juxtapositions going on. It’s almost like a contradiction between the visual side and the musical side. I’ve got to be honest. We find the whole Goth thing a joke, really, we sort of laugh about it. We were an art band. We all went to art school. We were like an experimental art band. I think that’s accurate to say that."

(via)

#danielash #bauhaus #tones on tail #love andr ockets #bubblemen #poptone #goth #experimental art #2001

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missvelvetsstuff · 1 month

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With Friends Like You, Who Needs Enemies?

Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Natasha, Reader x ????

Reader is a mutant with the ability to turn sound into light who was 'adopted' aka stolen as a child by Baron Von Strucker to use for experimentation. She was given a form of the Super soldier serum so in addition to her mutant abilities she also has super strength, enhanced senses and healing. When he starts experimenting on his volunteers, the Maximoff twins, she tries to convince them to escape with her but they tell the Baron that she's planning to escape so he doubles her cell security. Steve and reader met when the team recovered Loki's scepter from Strucker.

She falls in love with Steve and becomes good friends with Nat but they aren't the friends she thinks they are.

This story is canon adjacent except that Thanos never happened.

Chapter 1

After Y/N had slept for almost 24 hours and eaten enough to fill her up, Nat approached her in the kitchen.

"Tony is having a party tonite, to celebrate finding Loki's scepter. He gave me his credit card so do you want to go get a dress for tonite? And maybe some clothes so you aren't stuck in Avengers sweats all the time? We can have lunch and get our hair and nails done as well." She smirked "We can find a blue dress for you, it's Steve's favorite color."

Y/N felt her face flush "Why would I be worried about what Steve likes?"

Nat grinned "I'm a spy, I know how to read people and both of you are giving off some serious vibes. Trust me, he's into you too."

Y/N shrugged "I don't know what you're talking about but I do need some clothes and I've never had a real haircut. I just chop it off when it gets too long." She thought for a minute "Sure, sounds like fun."

They left the tower in one of Tony's cars that Nat borrowed. Driving around Manhattan Y/N felt overwhelmed but something was familiar as well.

"This is all so much. I haven't even left the facility where you found me in years."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it pretty quickly" Nat told her as they pulled into a parking garage on 5th Ave. "Having access to Starks credit and cars definitely helps." She parked and they got out of the car and walked into Saks.

Nat headed straight for evening wear and started looking through the racks when a sales person approached them.

"Ms Romanoff, it's so good to have you here again. I see you've brought a friend" she looked Y/N up and down, sneering slightly at her attire. "I can see she needs our help. What are you looking for today?"

Nat glared at her "We're looking for someone who won't be a bitch because of how we look. Do you have anyone here like that?"

The sales girl, her tag said her name was Sophia, blanched "I'm so sorry, Ms Romanoff, I was just caught off guard. Of course I'm happy to help you in whatever way you need.

Are you looking for a cocktail dress?"

Nat smirked "Yes, Tony is having a party tonite and my friend needs an appropriate dress. Something blue."

Sophia stuttered "Tony Stark? How exciting. Why don't you and Miss...."

"Y/L/N, I'm Y/N Y/L/N"

"Of course. What size do you usually wear Miss Y/L/N?"

Y/N flushed "I don't know, I haven't gotten myself new clothes in ages"

Sophia pulled out a tape measure "Well lets see..." And quickly took her measurements. "A size 7 should fit nicely. I have some dresses that would be perfect for you. Please have a seat and I'll have them brought over.

Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, water, tea, soda, champagne?"

Nat nodded "Some champagne would be nice. And none of the cheap stuff."

They spent an hour looking at dresses until they narrowed it down to 3. All shades of blue. Y/N tried them all on and was overwhelmed when she saw herself in the mirror, she felt like a princess.

"I can't choose, they're all so pretty. What do you think, Nat?"

"I agree, it's too hard to choose so we'll get all three. Tony loves throwing parties so you can never be too prepared." Nat replied

Y/N shook her head "I couldn't, that's too much"

Nat laughed "too much should be Tony's middle name. Don't worry about it." She turned to Sophia "what about accessories?"

4 hours later they had all 3 dresses and accessories for each one, plus enough everyday and business style clothes to last a year. And shoes and lingerie. Nat gave Sophia a stern order to make sure it was all delivered to the tower before 4pm. Then they went for hair, makeup and mani-pedi's.

Y/N didn't know how to process everything that was happening. Less than 72 hours ago she was in her cell with no inkling that her life would change so drastically.

"Thank you so much, Nat. I just...."

Nat smirked "Don't worry about it. I have a feeling you're going to feel right at home before too long."

They went back to the tower after a late lunch and finished getting ready. At 9pm they took the elevator to the penthouse where the party was already going full swing.

Nat led her to the bar and poured a glass of champagne for both of them.

Y/N just looked around, watching people, unsure of how to interact.

Steve and Sam were playing pool when Sam noticed Steve was staring at something by the bar.

"You checking out Nat again? I thought that was over."

Steve shook his head "It never really was on, just occasional stress relief. Besides she has something going on with Bruce. Look next to her, in the blue dress. That's Y/N, we found her at the base where we found Loki's scepter. She's a mutant, turns sound into light. She was humming the other night and had this glow around her like a mist of colors. It was beautiful" he sighed.

Sam laughed "You sound smitten. Why don't you go talk to her?"

Steve blushed "I wouldn't know what to say."

"How about hey Y/N you look beautiful, wanna have my babies" Sam offered

Steve snorted "Give me a break.

It looks like Nat is busy with Bruce so I should go be a good host. Don't want to leave her alone with all these strangers. She's been a prisoner since she was a kid so might not be good socially."

Sam laughed as Steve walked away.

Y/N was looking out the window when Steve approached her. She turned and looked at him.

"It's a beautiful view"

Steve was staring at her and agreed "Yeah, it's gorgeous"

She saw he was looking at her and felt her face heat up. "So Nat said Tony throws parties like this all the time"

Steve nodded "This is actually pretty tame compared to some. Before he became Iron Man I think partying was his priority. It's still a favorite past time.

You must be overwhelmed with all this if Strucker kept you prisoner since you were 10. You'll get used to it. We are mostly a happy family." He smiled softly at her.

After the party died down the team sat around drinking and chatting. Most of them tried to pick up Thor's hammer and failed. Only Steve moved it at all but he still couldn't pick it up.

Then Ultron showed up and made a mess of everything. Y/N tried to use her powers to help fight him but was thrown against a wall and knocked out. After Ultron was gone, she came to and heard arguing. Steve helped her up and kept his hand on her back to help comfort her. Once the team decided on their course of action he took her to her room.

"I need you to stay here for now, ok? We'll be back as soon as we can" he told her gently.

Y/N shook her head "I can help. I could come with you and-"

"No" he told her firmly "We need to evaluate your abilities and work together before you get into any fights with us. I don't want you to get hurt so please be a good girl and wait here for me"

She felt a funny tingle when he called her a good girl but pushed it back "Ok. I'll wait here. Please come back safely."

"I promise, sweetheart" he kissed her softly on the lips and made sure she was safe in her room before he left.

While the team went to Africa to stop Ultron, Y/N was having dreams about Steve but with her lack of experience couldn't figure them out. The only sex she had was when Strucker forced himself on her and she thought she would never actually enjoy sex but her dreams said otherwise.

In the morning she saw what happened on the news and knew that it was Wanda messing with the Hulk. If she had been there she could have broken Wandas hex and prevented all that destruction and death.

She jumped when Jarvis spoke to her "Miss Y/N? You have a phone call from Captain Rogers."

"Umm ok how do I take the call?"

"I'll put him thru"

Steve's voice came thru the speakers in her room.

"Hey sweetheart, how are you? Did you get some sleep?"

"Hi Steve, I slept a little. I had strange dreams. My life has turned upside down.

Are you ok? I saw the news. Wanda was there wasn't she? If you had let me come I could have prevented-"

Steve cut her off "No. You don't even know if you could have helped Hulk. You aren't going on any missions any time soon.

I just wanted to let you know that we will be gone for awhile. After that mess we have to lay low. Just be a good girl and make sure you eat and sleep. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Y/N felt so helpless as she saw the teams adventures on the news. They went from Africa to Korea. She was frustrated and wanted to help but couldn't so waited for them, for Steve, to return.

When Tony and Bruce returned they barely noticed her and rushed into the lab to work on something.

Steve came to check on her and gave her a sweet kiss before she noticed the twins were with him.

Wanda looked at her "Hello Y/N. Nice to see you again"

Y/N was confused "Steve why are they here? They are nothing but trouble and can't be trusted."

Wanda cringed "I know we have done awful things to you in the past but we didn't realize how bad Strucker was, too caught up in our own rage and grief. I promise we won't hurt you. We want to help stop Ultron."

Y/N looked at Steve "If you are taking them then I should be able to go too. I can help."

Steve chuckled "I know you want to help honey but I don't think a light show will do any good."

She pouted "I can make lasers too. I hate staying here while you risk yourself. Please, Steve." She begged

Her begging did something to Steve but not something that would help in a fight. He was about to tell her no again when Clint walked by

"She's not wrong Cap we could use all the help we can get."

Steve gave in "Promise me you'll be careful. I'd hate to see you hurt."

Y/N didn't do too badly considering the circumstances. She even took out a few robots on her own, including the one that tried to get Pietro and a young boy he was protecting.

Sokovia was still destroyed but most of the people were saved. Sometimes you have to accept how things turn out.

~~~~~~~~~~

After a few days rest Y/N, Sam, Wanda and Pietro started training to become official Avengers.

Y/N and Steve started dating, taking things very slow since she was inexperienced and in no rush.

Nat was devastated that Bruce had disappeared and started spending a lot of time with Steve and Y/N. Every night he would walk Y/N to her room, kiss her good night and leave her on her own.

After a few weeks she noticed Steve and Nat seemed really close and she asked him about it.

Steve shook his head "You have nothing to worry about sweetheart. Nat and I are just friends. We've been thru some tough situations together but there's no romantic feelings. She's just lonely because she misses Bruce."

She nodded trusting him.

They went on like this for awhile until General Ross brought up the Sokovia Accords. She took Steve's side but he didn't want her involved in the fight so she made her way to the quinjet and waited for Steve and Bucky. She saw what Zemo did and the fight that came after but couldn't bring herself to hurt Tony so found herself waiting on the jet again.

Y/N went with them to Wakanda and then on the run with Steve and Sam. After months dating, Steve told her he loved her and then told her he had to leave for a couple of days to meet up with Nat for cash and intel. They met up every few weeks and he always came back in a lighter mood.

One time when he returned he asked Y/N for a favor

"I don't want to be separated but Shuri figured out how to remove Bucky's brainwashing and I want you to go help him. Just be a friend. He really likes you and I think it would be good for both of you. You're the only one I can ask, he has bad history with Sam and Nat. I promise I'll come visit when I can."

She looked at him sadly, not wanting to leave the man she had fallen in love with but wanting to make him happy and be his good girl so she went to Wakanda.

Y/N and Bucky became close friends. She didn't mind if he didn't want to talk and they would just be together. If he did want to talk she listened without judgement and she was there for his nightmares. She helped him tend his goats and thought she could have fallen for him if she hadn't met Steve first.

A couple of times a week Steve would call to check up on her but it was always brief because Nat always called him away after a few minutes. He kept promising he would come visit but something always came up.

One day, Shuri showed up at Bucky's hut where Bucky and Y/N were playing chess."I have news, Captain Rogers contacted me and told me to tell you, Thor and Hulk have returned. Asgard was destroyed and all of the Asgardians that survived are here, setting up a home in Norway. New Asgard.

That's not all, the Captain and Tony Stark have worked things out with Gen Ross and Sargeant Barnes is being pardoned. You can go home soon, back to the states but there will be a celebration in New Asgard in a month.

Y/N wondered why Steve didn't call her and went thru Shuri instead but she was trusting and believed he just had too much to do.

Y/N and Bucky spent the next month as they had spent time in the past, strengthening their friendship, enjoying nature and herding goats. They both expected Steve to show up at any time but he never did. He only called once and explained that he was very busy helping Thor and Valkyrie set the new town up. Y/N told him they could help but Steve insisted they stay in Wakanda.

Finally it was time to leave, both of them were excited at being reunited with Steve but also nervous at meeting a whole new group of people.

Steve came in the quinjet to pick them up and after a quick hug and kiss on the cheek he spent the rest of the flight talking to Bucky. Y/N realized they were best friends but she had hoped for a better reunion with her love. She sat alone trying to talk herself down from the anxiety that was building up.

When they arrived in New Asgard the whole team was there to greet them. Nat and Bruce were wrapped around each other while Wanda and Vision were holding hands. Steve was suddenly in a bad mood right after they landed and left saying he just needed to work it off. Nat disappeared shortly after.

Thor gave Y/N a fond greeting and introduced her to Val. They took her and Bucky to a dressmaker to create Asgardian style robes for the celebration the next night. Steve didn't come to see her at all so she figured he was still busy helping and she stayed up talking to Bucky until they were both exhausted and fell asleep in the early hours of the morning.

Chapter 2

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #mutant reader

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