#stop calling it bad writing

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights cuddling for comfort, but also they're oblivious idiots who are pining over each other but thinks its unrequited

“Ugh,” Duke says, dropping down onto the bench besides Danny.

Danny nudges him with his shoulder. “Rough night?”

“Slept for like an hour,” Duke mutters, “This sucks. My head’s going to burst like balloon and my eyes are about to fall out.”

“Yikes. You know, you could have just canceled for today. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Duke sighs and presses the heel of his palms against his eyes. “Maybe, but I would have minded. We barely see each other anymore, man. I’ve missed you.”

“Oh.” Danny bites his lip, trying and failing to stop from smiling. Something soft in his chest glows at the words, a growing spark of happiness in knowing that for this, at least, the feeling is requited. It’s nice to hear that he was missed, and it would be even nicer if Duke wasn’t in pain, pushing himself just because he didn’t want to cancel. Carefully, Danny reaches for him and pulls his hands away from his face. “Here,” he says, “Let me.”

His hands are always cold. Most of him is cold, really — side effect of having an ice core. Sam told him once that his hands were better than an ice pack, and he’s hoping she’s right or this is going to be weird. 

Danny gently presses his fingers against Duke’s temples, his hands cradling Duke’s face. Duke is tense for a few seconds, then abruptly relaxes, leaning into Danny’s hands. 

“Is this helping?” he asks, voice hushed to keep from aggravating Duke’s migraine.

“Mhm. Yeah, it feels great. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke goes completely limp, leaning against Danny. They sit there for a minute in silence, the rest of the world feeling far away. As nice as it is to just exist together, he knows what Duke needs most right now is quiet and stillness. Gotham is very much not that, and every honking car that passes by makes Duke wince, trying to turn away from the road even more.

“Hey, let’s head back to my place. It’s close by, and a lot quieter than out here.”

“Are you sure? I know we planned to go to the arcade today…”

“The arcade can wait. You’re more important.”

Duke blinks open his eyes and looks at Danny with something soft in his gaze. Being so close together, barely any space between them, with Duke looking at him like that makes Danny’s cheeks flush red, unable to think anything but please kiss me.

Which is never going to happen. Duke is his friend, and just his friend, no matter how much Danny wishes they could be something more. It’s a pipe dream, something so impossible it’s almost laughable. 

Duke likes being friends with normal human Danny. He doesn’t want to imagine how he would react if he found out about Danny being half ghost, assuming this imaginary reveal happens without Danny being hunted down and cut open by GIW agents. 

He’s still in hiding, always waiting for the worst as he stays in the apartment his friends (living and dead) had set up for him. The building is for ghosts so it technically doesn’t exists, which means it’s the safest place for Danny while he’s actively being hunted by the US government. 

He can’t be honest with Duke. Can’t be as close to him as he wants to be. Duke deserves more than to be dragged into Danny’s problems and put in danger.

Even so, Danny can’t help but want him around, pushing his luck each time they hang out.

“Come on,” Danny urges, standing up. He pulls his hands away and Duke’s brow immediately furrows, his pain returning. “It’s only a few streets away.”

Duke sighs, then visibly braces himself before he stands up. Danny tucks himself into Duke’s side, taking as much of his weight as he can as he walks them down the street. It’s times like these that he wishes he could reveal his powers safely and just fly them to his apartment. But even without the GIW gunning for his head, showing off powers in Gotham is a sure fire way to get a target painted on his back.

“Almost there,” he says as they turn a corner. 

His apartment doesn’t have a fixed address. It doesn’t have a fixed location at all, drifting around, but it likes this street the most, so this is where it usually is. Danny takes them halfway down the street, then turns into an alley, following his ghost sense. 

Where there’s usually a dead end is instead a building, looking as if it’s always been tucked away in this alley. Danny keeps a tight grip on Duke as they climb the front steps, silently asking for the building to let him stay while he’s with Danny. The door opens easily, which is as good as an agreement, and they’re inside without anything going wrong. The small entrance lobby is empty, with an area for packages filled with clearly magical artifacts carelessly wrapped in bubble wrap. 

Danny drags them past that quickly, hoping Duke doesn’t notice, and calls the elevator down. It arrives silently, the doors opening to let another tenant out. Carefully, Danny positions himself in front of Duke, making sure he doesn’t see how the tenant, who nods at Danny, has a still bleeding wound in his stomach that has him nearly split in half. 

“Alright,” he says, ushering Duke into the elevator, “Just a little ride up and then you can lay down.” He hits the button for the fourth floor and they ride up in silence, Duke dropping his head down to onto Danny’s shoulder again, wrapping his arms around his waist as he stands behind Danny. He’s glad Duke can’t see his face; there’s no doubt that he’s blushing like crazy and if that doesn’t give away his feelings, he doesn’t know what will.

Thankfully the elevator ride isn’t long. If Danny had to go for more than a minute with Duke breathing softly against his neck, his warm hands on his stomach, Danny would have collapsed into a pile of flustered goo.

He opens the door to his apartment and kicks his shoes off. Duke follows in suit, still plastered onto Danny’s back, refusing to let go. 

“Come on,” Danny says, leading him to the couch, “Sit down and I’ll grad you some water and painkillers.”

Duke nods against his shoulder, then slowly detaches himself from Danny and makes his way to the couch. He drops onto it gracelessly, pressing his face into a cushion. 

Danny winces. He must be feeling really bad. He knows how bad migraines can be with sleep deprivation, having suffered through high school with only a few hours of sleep at night, if he got to sleep at all. Frankly, it’s a testament to Duke’s strength that he lasted the entire walk to Danny’s apartment without complaint. 

He returns to the living room with a full glass of water and a bottle of Advil, setting them on the coffee table to crouch next to the couch and place a cold hand on Duke’s cheek. “Hey,” he says softly when Duke turns to look at him, “Is Advil alright? It’s all I had.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke sits up and shakes out three pills, then washes them down with water. He drains the rest of the cup quickly, then falls back against the couch with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?”

Duke immediately reaches a hand out for him.

“Um?”

“Sit next to me. I feel better when I’m next to you.”

“Oh! Alright. Bet you’re only saying that because my hands are cold.”

“You caught me,” Duke laughs, pulling Danny onto the couch. He goes easily, tucking his legs beneath himself, and places his hands on Duke’s temples again. “Man, I owe you my life.”

“I don’t think my cold hands are worth quite that much.”

Duke hums, but doesn’t say anything else, so Danny settles in and focuses on keeping his hands a little colder than normal. 

The apartment is quiet. No sound from outside can reach them, one of the few ways the building looks after its tenants. Danny and Duke fall against each other, at ease with each other. There’s no need to fill in the silence, and with Duke’s eyes closed, Danny doesn’t have to carefully shove down his feelings and act normal. He indulges in the warmth of Duke’s body pressed against his, a hand on his knee and an arm around his waist. 

He keeps his hands as steady as possible as he looks over Duke, adoring all the little details he can see; a small scar on his chin, the fullness of his lips, the way his hair falls into his face now that it’s long enough to keep in braids.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Duke murmurs, “What’s on your mind?”

You’re cute, he thinks, I feel safe with you. I want to kiss you. I wish I could be brave enough to be honest.

I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave.

“Nothing,” he says. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I might fall asleep though.”

“That’s fine. You know I would never say no to a nap.”

“Come here, then,” Duke says, and before Danny can do anything, Duke gets a stronger grip on his waist and pulls Danny down on top of him as he falls back towards the arm rest and gets his legs on the couch.

“Duke!”

Duke laughs underneath him, and Danny can feel it roll through him. Okay! This is definitely something he’s going to think about… forever. Wow, he can feel Duke’s abs tense up as he laughs, and has he always been ripped? Unfair. Also unfairly hot. 

“Is this alright?” Duke asks, voice soft and quiet. There’s a hesitancy around his words that Danny doesn’t like hearing, and he brings his hands down to sweep his thumbs soothingly over Duke’s cheeks.

“Of course it is, man. I’d never refuse cuddles.”

“Okay. I’m gonna pass out now. Wake me in an hour?”

Danny moves his hands back up to his temples and says, “Sure. Get some rest, Duke. You really need it.”

He feels Duke relax beneath him, breaths slowing down as he begins to fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet and Duke is warm in a way Danny never can be with his ice core. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but curled up on the couch with Duke in the safety of an apartment that only barely exists has him drifting off in no time at all.

. . .

(Duke wakes up before Danny. Their legs are tangled together and Duke has moved during his sleep, turning so Danny is held tightly to his chest, his back to the cushions, while Duke is balancing very carefully at the edge of the couch. 

It’s been hours, and he should be heading home soon, but he stays as he is, enjoying this quiet moment for as long as he can have it. Danny is in his arms, safe and content with him, his head no longer hurts beyond a residual ache he can easily ignore, and he can admire how pretty Danny is without being worried about Danny catching his lingering stares. 

These moments are precious to him, rare as they are, and he wants nothing more than to kiss Danny once he’s awake and let his feelings be known.

But the Signal has lots of dangerous people after him, and Gnomon has started causing problems in Gotham again. So he’ll bite his tongue and keep his less platonic feelings buried under lock and key until it’s safe enough for Danny to be around him more often.

And when that time comes, he can only hope that Danny will feel the same way.

That’s all far away from the stillness of Danny’s apartment. All that matters is that he has Danny in his arms. Everything else can wait. 

For now, this is more than enough.)

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dpxdc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #once again unable to resist the urge to write abt living buildings #duke and danny are pining no stop bc they're both like 'this is a bad time for a relationship/i have to keep too many secrets' etc etc #while also cuddling and going on dates that they dont call dates out loud and sighing wistfully when they think of each other #taking what small things they can while trying to hide their feelings.... #some other batfam member is going to stumble upon them in public and chat a bit w dukes friend #then walk away texting the group chat like 'hey duke and his friend are madly in love but too shy/stupid to do something abt it. #lets play cupid lol' and then theyre all trying to get duke and danny together #it gets to the point that every time they hang out it ends with them doing some nonsense to escape the batfam and their kind but unhinged #attempts to get them together #thanks for the prompt!!!

[opens-up-4-nobody]

Once I was scrolling thru naruto fics and saw the tag "buisnessman!Kakashi" and all I could think about was Kakashi being a child businessman, owning all the konoha adults at doing business while wearing an oversized suit and tie. That idea is so fucking funny to me.

#obito: that kakashi! hes always showing me up by getting better deals than me >:-( #also just the idea of lil child Kakashi showing up at a business meeting and sealing the deal with an outline written in adorablly childish #handwriting. written in crayon lol #call this the naruto businessman au #every ninja is a business person and it exactly parallels canon. that is my dream #sealed inside naruto is the partial spirit of the ultimate buisnessman but its too powerful and everyones afraid #fucking hashirama's face on the wall as the company founder lmao rip madara: fuck this company ur brother embarrassed my brother so bad #at deal making that he died. im gonna tear it all down. face me hashirama! deal for deal. ill become the ultimate businessman ill control #the world and put an end to all this business! #oh got its so weird like the founders waterpark au that i also keep deep in my heart #anyway this is weird wtf am i doing. procrastinating and its like almost 11 i should keep writing or go to sleep lol #but wait: 10 years ago the spirit of a ferral businessman was unleashed upon this building. there was no stopping him. his charisma was #unmatched. his expense reports! his terrible otherworldly expense reports! he was too efficient! he fired half the staff! the spirit of #that buisnessman is sealed inside of u naruto. thats why theyre so afraid of u. and then cut to naruto in an oversized buisness suit #looking shocked. aw iruka as a daycare working. cute #anyway this is fucking dystopian lol #unrelated #naruto ramblings

[extra-somethin-somethin]

If nothing else Koenma is a Kuwabara stan and I'm right there with him o7 (I need to write the kuwameshi fic that goes with this fr)

#maybe one day i'll write that au i have sitting in my head #ever since the comment he made about making kuwa spirit detective instead ive been thinking about it #like...what if yusuke is still recruited same as canon but like #kuwa was already spirit detective? doing assignments for the guys upstairs and all #and they made yusuke help him after his resurrection instead of going solo #and it's hilarious because they still have the ''rivalry'' set in place so it's like #now i gotta be coworkers with this guy i was in a fist fight with last week? #yusuke is like you can't be serious you want me to fight DEMONS with the guy who cant even beat ME? lmaooo okay #kuwa would be more in tune with his powers atp in this au and super offended like hello #why would i use my reiki on a FELLOW HUMAN CHILD you DICK i can hold my own on my assignments just fine #but he's actually really excited to be able to spend time with yusuke doing something besides getting his ass handed to him #they're both genkai's students (she's endlessly annoyed but they grow on her) #i just think it'd be fun cos like #it'd be harder to exclude kazuma from shit if he's literally been involved in this shit before he even met #kurama and hiei #kuwabara isn't really told about yusuke's resurrection so things go mostly the same up til he's brought back #they're both called to koenma's office and it's the spiderman pointing meme 💀 #it's koenma's first time seeing kuwa in person as he usually just sends assignments with botan #yusuke has already seen him cos of the resurrection arc #and koenma is SUCH a fanboy ''kuwabara it's such a pleasure. you know you're my best worker 🥺'' #''um urameshi am i seeing things or is that a fuckin baby'' yusuke will NOT stop laughing #it fucks koenma up so bad he makes sure he's in his adult form when he's around kuwa next #cos he wants to be the respected boss but also guy that you can chill with!! he's so cringe #okay yeah i need to write this it's such a fun concept #kuwameshi #yu yu hakusho #kuwabara kazuma #yusuke urameshi #koenma

[ztmachine]

I wish people would stop saying "written like fanfiction" when what they're actually trying to say is "this writing was bad and out of character". It obfuscates the actual criticism they're trying to make while, at the same time demeaning an entire genre.

#dear god if you think something is bad you don't have to demean the entire genre of fanfic. You can just say it's bad. #yes bad and/or out of character writing is more common in fic but that's not at all exclusive to fic #idk just stop calling something bad by comparing it to an entire genre of writing and implying the genre is inherently bad #zt adds something #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #fic #criticism #book #books

[rynnthefangirl]

The Breaking Bad universe is top tier because it consists of rich, poignant, beautiful dramas starring the absolute silliest men you have ever seen in your entire life.

#walter white may be the one who knocks but he also cooks meth in his tighty whiteys and writes out pro/con lists when contemplating murder #jesse pinkman physically cannot stop saying the word bitch #when together they synergy of their silliness reaches off-the-chart proportions #Jimmy needs no words we all know what that man is like #breaking bad #better call saul #walter white #jesse pinkman #jimmy mcgill

[aroaceleovaldez]

a quick helpful reference guide:

Children's books - Target demographic is generally up to like age 10 - basically elementary school and below, for us Americans.

Middle-grade books - Target demographic is approximately middle schoolers (ages 11-15).

YA (Young Adult) - Target demographic is about 15-20ish year olds, so high schoolers and early college.

There is such thing as "upper middle-grade books" (targeted more towards the upper range of middle grade, so middle schoolers going into high school) and other such more specific intended target demographic age ranges within those groupings.

What these ranges mean is that the books differ in how they present subject matter to be appropriate to the intended audience demographic. Obviously, books geared towards younger kids are going to be shorter, use simpler language, and present concepts in ways that are easier to understand for younger children. As the target age demographic increases, the length, word choice, and presentation of topics will become more complex. The actual subject matter within the book itself is unrelated to this classification system for the most part - the books are graded on what's presumed appropriate for that age-range in terms of how children learn and their presumed literacy and reading comprehension at that age, rather than the topic itself.

Rick Riordan is a middle-grade author, and his books are usually middle-grade - including the entirety of the Riordanverse and Daughter of the Deep. The only exception is The Sun And The Star, which is loosely either upper middle-grade or YA, as Mark Oshiro is a YA author and co-authored it.

#rick riordan #< basically only gonna tag that cause this is more general books rather than pjo-specific #anyways stop calling Rick a YA author he's not #also QUALITY IS SUBJECTIVE TO THESE CATEGORIES #a book being shitty because it's middle-grade does not excuse it being shitty #it just means it's shitty and also middle-grade #in fact its probably more difficult to write well for younger age groups because you have to break down the concepts well #and your audience is less likely to have the life experience to understand certain references or experiences #and you need to take that into account #it doesn't mean they can't handle certain concepts or deserve shitty writing #some writing is just obectively bad from a structural standpoint

[tootern2345]

I did try to call one of the senators to make my voice heard but turns out I don’t think stuff through that much

It was worth a shot but people, don’t give up hope! Still try and try to call your senators/representatives and make your voice heard. Also write emails, still sign petitions, and at least do some reblogging/posts of your own! WE WILL NOT BE DEFEATED. Giving up is what THEY want you to do. THEY want you to fall into silence, don’t let THEM stop you. Defeat THEM.

Some senators to call include Alex Padilla of CA (California, not Canada for those who get the two mixed up) and Jon Osoff of GA. and while there is a script or two for what to say. Here is the technical aspect of it (what you should do) in the first link (ACT.EFF.Org).

#bad internet bills #stop earn it act #stop censorship #kosa bill #stop kosa #important #important as fuck #call call call #sign sign sign #write write write #don’t give up #still try #even if it doesn’t go to plan #you can still make a change #we will not be silenced #toot’s talking corner #important information #serious post #government #senate #congress #politics #house of representatives #emails #united states of america #links #lgbtq #lgbtq rights #pride #kids online safety act

[rocksanddeadflowers]

Has anyone done a variation of "Y/N gets sold to 1D" but it's The Mechs? (Like the characters not the irl ppl.) I feel like there's a lot of potential there. For science of course.

#please hear me out #bc it would be stupidly funny #I can't ever stick to single multi-chapter fics but it's genuinely tempting #I'm also bad at satire so it would start like “i throw my messy bun up” “my moms a BITCH” “omg the Mechanisms” obviously #with tim calling yn love and shit #but lile three chapters in and suddenly I'm writing super serious and intense self insert and have stopped using yn #but eh #the mechanisms #I'm serious tho have we even considered the possibilities here

[recitedemise]

𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲, 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗘𝗹𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗮 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗪𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲. That isn't to say the Weave, however, the very source well of magic, was made any lesser for Gale. Rather, it was Gale's ability to draw from it that was egregiously stunted. While every other mage may experience fatigue, weary with that effort to manipulate magic, Gale's body was slowly wasting. In his case, his body could only take so much, and unfortunately, no amount of rest would do him well. For a time, casting to Gale brought him a conflicted feeling of joy, elation, and the chronic hollowness of a ruthless ache. His skin cracked apart, nails stained black with the ruptures beneath them, and under duress with incurable exhaustion, plainly put: every spell Gale would cast could've been his last. The realization? Well, it was gutting. Abstractly, he knew one day, on a day likely balmy for cruelty, he would've burned himself out to the end of his wick. One day, he would fan out his fingers and conjure nothing at all. Unable to absorb more Weave, it would have been the beginning of the end.

Honestly, at that point, he'd believe death comparatively merciful.

#HEADCANON. #my reply to ouija made me write this. gale had a finite amount of spells in him #before his body would..give up. just stop. just call it quits. #honestly knowing how important magic is to gale....god.... #that would have destroyed him. you think hes bad already in act 1? brother if elminster never came #(even tho mystra missive is grade a Ass) #gale would have been just absolutely devastated.... #Gale is so chronically sick. I sit here and look out a window with sorrow in my big ol eyes #This means magic Gale spends for his friends or his lover (if applicable) are ALL the more meaningful #taps my brain. tastes like tragedy!

[icejello]

Okay svsss fandom give me your thoughts

So i was thinking about that scene where sqq jokingly asks the system if it ever worked with the harry potter franchise before and got inspired to write a harry potter au for svsss. The characters that would be involved are bingqiu and moshang but i can't figure out what Hogwarts house they would be in so do tell me your ideas.

How the story would go?

Basically the system malfunctions and suddenly transmigrated the 4 of them into the Harry Potter world. They can only escape if they help protect Harry and figure out who's the evil person trying to kill him (it's going to be centered in book 1). The problem? None of them knows about Harry Potter and so they're in a panic trying to solve who the evil person is without realizing Harry practically could not be killed because of the prophecy.

#svsss #bingqiu #moshang #harry Potter au #does this makes sense? i hope it does #will i be able to finish it fast? probably not seeing as i have 2 other wips that are still uh in progress #but i want to write them panicking in Hogwarts so bad #binghe and mobei would be the confused ones like what just happened??? what is this system??? #while qinghua and qingqiu are losing their mind yelling at the system #cue a very confused binghe going 'shizun? what just happened? do yk what this system is???' #cue mobei just staring at qinghua hard bcs he can see that qinghua seems to know what the system is and wants explanation #cue cumplane panicking about two things #1) how tf are they gonna figure out and save the kid by the end of the school term #2) how tf are they gonna explain to lbh and mbj about the system without outing themselves #they won't be part of the first years there #I'm gonna make them get isekai'd into some random made up senior students bcs i think it would be funnier #bcs then we also see them trying to figure out how to fit in their new character #also cue a confused lbh and mbj questioning the language that they're hearing for the first time #but for some reason understand it #does lbh stop calling sqq shizun? no and it complicates matters for sqq to explain to ppl who thought it was his nickname and calls him that #would sqq and sqh ever read harry potter? idk tbh but i think of them as someone who mainly reads only webnovels here so take that

[worldsquietestjojosfan]

Mingjue's gaze softens.

"Didi. You are confused. You are misinterpreting brotherly love for romantic interest."

Huaisang clenches his firsts and stares down at the floorboards. His expression morphs into one of pain. He draws in a deep breath.

"Da-ge, please sleep with me." Mingjue's body jerks back at his little brother's words. "If I sleep with you, then I'll know for sure what I'm feeling."

#bro doing anything but organizing her code #my brother says i write like i wasnt allowed to go to school #recently my brother had to do a project for school where he had to pick up a new hobby #he didnt do the assignment and at the last day he was like brother im so fucked help me #so i let him use one of my fanfics for the before and told him to use his own fanfic as an after and present that #his professor told him his improvement was incredible #thats all i have to say #theres something so cringe about when i write #ill write it and be like yeah. and then i read over it and die #unironically i actually run away from my fics. i have never once read them again after finishing #like when i draw. i look at it. im like yeah that part is good that part is bad. pretty mid but its ok. #writing? i turn red and hide from the monster i have created #i think my writing could be lethal. like if i read all my fics one after the other id die from cringe poisoning #i regularly look at my old drawings and cry how much ive regressed. but i can look at them. #one time my friend wanted to torture me so he called me to read my fics out loud. i endorse this as an execution method #shit gets me sweating. i have to get normal about this #some words #wip #the second wip actually #the first one is the saber spirit takes over nmj and he fucks nhs on the training grounds infront of everyone. #second one is nmj is like brother you have to stop being a freak this is getting out of hand and nhs is like nuh-uh. but also how'd you kno #on a side note remember my former student that confessed? yeah well #he proposed marriage

[weaper-reaper]

Eventuality Pt.3+4

1, 2, 5, 6

As always crossposted on Ao3 @WeaperReaper. It gets updated first so check that out.

DAY after DAY, CHAPTER after CHAPTER,

I promised to feed my bbgirls and I’m doing so on a

SILVER PLATTER

Eat up kids.

NSFW UNDER CUT // MINORS DNI

CW: fluff, medical inaccuracies, German translation inaccuracies, military inaccuracies, you get the point, NSFW: smut, handjob, fingering, cunnilingus, rutting, dirty talk, etc, not too bad but you’ll find out. WC~7.7k

Since then the rest of the week went by relatively uneventful. I fell into an easy daily pattern. Wake up, shower, entertain whatever morning challenge Soap set for himself and the troops, then lock myself in the infirmary until the sun set. Sunday rolled around and I found myself carrying a tray of food back into the sterile and cold room. Outside, the days grew hot, but I dressed in thick clothes daily because of how chilled the makeshift office was kept. Thankfully, whatever help they had before me did a decent job of keeping medical records for most of the soldiers. So after a few quick emails between myself and KORTAC command, I was able to round up everyone’s history, some only dating back a few years.

There were a handful of documents that continued to stay missing. Most of Soap and Price’s history had been erased, and there was nothing on Ghost. I hadn’t even gotten a hint as to his real name, same went for Konig.

My stomach did flips as his name crossed my mind.

Konig had made it a habit to visit everyday at the end of my shift- or whenever it was when I finished paperwork for that day. He’d see me at the door and make an excuse to walk me back to the sleeping quarters. It was quite most of the time, that seemed to always be the case with him. He’d ask me how my day went, and then never really elaborated on his.

I didn’t mind though, after the buzzing and beeping that rang through my ears all day I appreciated his gentle calm.

I settled at the desk in the back, tray clacking loudly against the steel top, and chair speaking just as annoyingly underneath me. I was proud of myself for catching up so quickly though, I had practically everyones name, face, and blood type memorized.

I was in the middle of shoving a banana muffin in my face when someone knocked on the open door. It was Soap, in full gear.

“Dressed up for me?” I teased and eyed him up and down.

He was equipped to the T, rifle strapped across his chest with matching mags tied into his vest. The black shirt he wore under it was almost too tight for him, and his biceps bulged under the thin fabric. My face heated.

“Only so you’d notice me.” He sauntered over to where I sat and grazed his fingers over my tray of food, I swatted his hands away. His close presence not doing any favors with my growing blush.

“Get your own food, Mctavish.”

“I did, yours looks better.”

I scoffed and two pairs of boots echoed loudly down the hall, approaching the room. I reeled quickly away when Price and Konig entered, I didn’t miss Konig eyeing our sudden distance, as if it were not far enough. I cleared my throat and addressed the both of them.

“Well aren’t I just popular today,” I stood and inched closer to the men at the door, letting the cots act as a barrier between us all.

“What do I owe the pleasure, Captain?”

They were both dressed similarly to Soap, boots strapped up tight and guns loaded. Price had his flimsy hat on again like he did the first day. His facial hair had grown significantly since then.

“Someone didn’t get the message, eh?” He mumbled, eyeing my form. I glanced down at what I was wearing. It was the usual, black fitted crew neck with matching cargo pants, my only pair of boots and medic jacket hung on the hook by the desk.

“What message?” I asked.

“We’re shipping out, Nurse.”

My eyes widened, a mission?

And they wanted to bring me?

I rushed over to my duffle bag packed with all the necessary medical supplies and onced it over. Thankfully it was still pretty much stocked.

“Have you checked out anything from the armory yet?” Soap approached behind me and handed me my jacket. I threw it on and slung the bag over my shoulder.

“Well it can’t be that dangerous can it? For you to want to bring your only licensed medical help?”

“We’re just gathering intel,” Price began, leading us four from the room. Soap joined his side and I followed behind them in stride as they briefed me. Konig fell into step beside me, quiet as usual, but his eyes never left me.

“Given what happened last time, figured it’d be better to just bring you along.” He continued.

“You thought right, sir. Another ambush isn’t going to do anyone any favors.”

“Right you are Nurse.”

Konig handed me a handgun, it was snapped shut in a black leather holster. They moved quickly. In the next handful of minutes we were loaded up in the back of a Jeep. Price drove and Soap sat passenger, Konig and I behind him. He had a laptop opened on his lap- a map of the dunes and some other information scrambled off to the side. He slid a gloved hand over the keys and shifted the monitor so I could watch.

It was a silent drive, Soap and Price held most of the conversation. I put in a good word or two when addressed but other then that just watched as Konig typed things into the laptop.

He pulled a photo up after a while.

“This man, we are looking for him.” He stated, and I realized only then how much I missed his warm accent. Soap and Price continued their conversation up front, and Konig spoke in a soft way.

“He’s ratted up in a building near us, we don’t normally take jobs like this but..” he trailed off.

Soap finished his sentence , “He might have information on another case we’re working on.”

“So it’s our job to find out what he’s up to, and bring him back to base for questioning.”

“Is that really the best tactic?” I questioned, the sun began to set, and the desert quickly grew cold. I shivered beneath my jacket and I swear Konig schootched just that bit closer, our thighs brushing together ever so slightly.

“I mean if he’s associated with the one’s who set an ambush up a week ago, who’s to say you’re not walking into a trap?”

Price chuckled from his seat and glanced back at me through the rear view mirror, then turned to Soap. “Told ya she’s a clever one.” Soap said lowly. Konig nodded in agreement.

“Ghost went ahead of us,” he continued, Scottish accent thick with witheld emotion. Was he worried for him?

I mumbled a small ‘good’. Having a scout sent out before was what’s clever.

These men, besides their cool exterior, were soldier through and through. The mission and end goal is the first thing on their mind. I blamed the shiver that ran up my spine on the cold. I could never do what they do, this S.A.S. All of my training went to healing, the though of bringing a man back- regardless of what he might be affiliated with- in a plan to torture information out of him..

Konig’s gloved hand pulled me from my head when he put it on my knee. I turned to look at him but he was looking away, out the window to his other side. He was different tonight, This the only crack in the facade he played. With me, he’d only been gentle and kind. But tonight out on a mission for the first time together, would I be afraid of what I’d see?

I placed my cold hand on top of where his lay, a gesture of comfort maybe, or a promise that whatever happened he’d still be there- underneath the fear enticing mask.

I swallowed hard.

Some hours later Price pulled up behind a crumbling building and threw us into park. The sun had far from set, but the moon was bright and full. It illuminated our surrounding area clearly. Something I was glad for, but the others didn’t share.

“We’re too exposed out here.” Soap complained. The place looked dead to me, however.

“Ghost, how copy?” He thumbed at the radio strapped to his vest.

There must have been some reply because he gave a thumbs up to price, and headed off into a seemingly random direction, slouching his way between the clay building and a wall- disappearing behind some shadows.

Price turned to us and Konig pulled a long thin sniper case from the back of the Jeep. I hadn't even noticed it before. There were black sharpie scribbles on one top, phrases in German and little doodles in another corner. My lips twitched up.

“You’ll keep watch with Konig, should anything happen- I’m looking to you Nurse.” Price laid heavily on me. Any smile I might have had faded, a seriousness settling over us.

“The two of you are my eyes, if everything goes according to plan- you’ll never see Soap or Ghost until we regroup. Konig has the safe houses, don’t leave his sight.”

‘Don’t leave his sight.’ He said it like a command, and it probably was. Though I didn’t make any plans to go wandering out on my own anyway. I turned to Konig and he was already staring down at me. The moon was bright behind him, and cast his face into one giant shadow, eyes dark, it was a scary sight to be on the wrong side of.

They shared a nod and Price jumped back into the Jeep, leaving us in his trail of dust after a moment.

“Let’s get set up.” Konig grabbed the handle of the case and turned to climb a flight of stairs. When we got to the top of the building, the other surrounding houses were clearly outlined by the moon. Lights were on in a handful of them just down the way that I hadn’t noticed before. Konig found a comfortable spot on the ledge and pulled out his rifle, snapping some pieces at the end together. He fell into a crouch and I joined him at his side, setting my bag underneath me to act as a seat. The ledge went just up to my shoulders, and Konig easily set up his scope utop it, always the perfect height.

It was dead silent for a few minutes, until he set his radio infront of me. He turned it down so low that only a faint static could be heard if you strained to hear it. His thumb reached over me to press the PTT on the side.

“In position, eyes on you Cap.” He eyed through his optic and shifted the nose of his rifle to follow where the Jeep Price drove could be see. If it weren’t for the dust and sand it kicked up, I wouldn’t have noticed it. Just a tiny black dot far out in the dunes.

“Copy. Stand by.” Price’s voice was muffled a little over the radio. It wasn’t really my place to ask questions about the mission, though that didn’t stop loads from firing out of every crevice of my brain.

Konig sighed to my right and I realized the bouncing of my leg was probably bothering him. I couldn’t help but be nervous, so I mumbled a silent apology.

“It’s okay.” He said quietly, eyes still looking through the scope, “I also have trouble sitting still.” He huffed a little, like there was some private joke for him.

I stilled my legs and instead focused on watching him closely. I hadn’t been this near his face before, since he first came to me at least. The cut on his jaw I cleaned before should be fairly healed by now, if he didn’t mess it it too much. My fingers itched to lift his mask to check it myself.

“Maus..” He drew out faintly after a while. My chest fluttered and he kept his body facing forward. “I can feel you staring.”

My voice caught in my throat and I couldn’t even apologize in response, I shifted to get up when his hand shot out and caught my elbow.

“No, it is alright just-“ he nudged me a little closer to him, “talk to me at least, your voice” he turned his head to look at me and our eyes met. The moon and clear sky reflected out of them, “It calms me.”

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, nodding. “Okay uhm.” I racked my brain.

“What do you want to talk about?” I asked, switching over to eye the buildings instead. I prayed everything went smoothly.

“Anything. You.”

“Me?”

He nodded.

“I’m not that interesting I’m afraid.”

“You’re wrong.” He countered and turned to glance at me once more. His eyes settled on my breast pocket.

“Who is that photo of?” He asked, turning his attention back through his scope.

I was a little astonished.

“How do you know I have a photo?”

I could hear him laugh under his breath, the fabric covering his face shifted with the movement and I could feel my face heat up all over again.

“So you don’t deny it.”

I scoffed and turned away, looking anywhere but his direction. He was always watching me, so of course he probably noticed it a couple nights. It’s not like I tried to make a secret of it, sometimes if the day was rough I had a habit of pulling it out and thumbing over it a few times until I calmed down again. It wouldn’t surprise me if he already knew what was on it.

“It’s of my dad.”

“I’m sorry.” He said without missing a beat, immediately cursing at himself in German.

How did he-“You knew already.”

It was impossible to read his expression, especially when faced away from me, but I could hear the sheepishness in his voice when he answered me.

“I asked Price.” Was his reply.

I hummed.

“He told me about him.. and you. He was a war hero right?”

I hummed again and absentmindedly graced my fingers over the pocket his photo stayed zipped up tight behind.

“You’re awfully curious about me.” I tried to change the subject.

He shrugged.

“Enough to ask price about it.” I pushed.

“I want to get to know you, Maus.” The nervousness that sat in my chest from before immediately dropped into butterflies in my stomach, and I had to remind myself that we’re out here in this blistering cold on a mission. This wasn’t a tailgate party where I could fraternize with my coworkers.

I cleared my throat and let some moments pass between us silently. He continued to stay focused on his rifle, shifting if only to get more comfortable and not stiff out his hands. The radio buzzed between us, it was Soaps voice.

“Target located, extraction a-go.”

I let myself relax a bit, he seemed to be doing well at least. We hadn’t heard anything from Price yet, but I didn’t doubt he was in good shape too. Ghost I was the least worried about, if there was ever a man who could handle his own- it was him.

Konig sighed and shifted his weight again, leaning over me to palm the radio.

“Copy, all clear.”

Just then the roar of an engine bounced over the walls surrounding us. It wasn’t clear where the sound originated, but the both of us stilled to listen. Konig clicked off the radio and clipped it back onto his belt.

I moved into a crouch and slung my kit over my shoulders, ready to move given the signal.

Voices echoed underneath us, a handful of men talked in a language I couldn’t understand and Konig wasted no time in readjusting his rifle to carry. He grabbed onto my upper arm and led me quickly back down the stairs, I had to do my best not to trip and fall on top of him. His long legs made him able to move quicker than I could. We neared the bottom of the staircase when a light flashed through one of the windows, Konig pushed me against the adjacent wall and we stood as still as statues, I didn’t dare let myself even breath.

After a moment, when the flash moved he motioned to a door slightly off its hinges. I nodded and we moved over to it, swiftly slipping inside. It was cramped and Konig pulled the door shut tight behind him, his towering form covering my back completely. He had one hand on the doorknob, and the other glove palmed the wall in front of me, his arm resting over my shoulder- fingers directly in my line of sight.

We were shoved so closely together that I could feel his heart beat against his chest, or maybe it was mine. I tried to pull away slightly, but my foot caught on the uneven floorboards, Konigs hand cupped over my mouth before I could let out any noise, effectively pulling me back into him so that I rested on his chest. My breathing quickened, and he let his hand stay over my face, but loosened it slightly so that I could breathe.

We could hear the men from outside wander in. Two of them from the sounds of it. They chattered back and forward between each other as they scoped through the worn house.

Were they patrol? Wouldn’t ghost had let us know if he noticed any guards wandering around the buildings were were at?

The adrenaline coursed through me veins and made me more frustrated at him then I probably should’ve been. There was a reason he didn’t know, or didn’t tell us.

Footsteps approached our position and I held my breath, refusing to move even an inch.

Don’t fuck up, don’t fuck up.

If I made a noise then it wasn’t just my life on the line, but Konig’s too. So I held my ground, my hand wrapped around his wrist holding on as tightly as I could.

Just as the footsteps got closer brakes squealed outside. Yelling ensued and the men ran back outside towards all the commotion. I let a breath escape me and loosened my grip on Konigs arm. He remained still, even as we heard the men load back up into their vehicles and leave. A few moments passed and my own anxiety died down, it was quickly growing hot in this cramped space.

I wiggled a bit and shifted my weight from one foot to the other, Konigs breath hitched behind me and i stilled. Did he hear something I didn’t? I waited a moment more. His gear began to dig into my back and the position we were in made me grow uncomfortable.

Practically all my weight was tossed back onto him, crushed between me and the wall I’m sure he wasn’t in the best position either.

I attempted to move again, and his hand fell from my mouth across the front of my shoulders, pulling me tighter into him.

“Konig..” I whispered, afraid maybe there was someone still lurking around outside.

“Little maus..” his voice sounded strained, and I made a weak motion to pry his arm from my chest and turn to face him. The majority of his mass covered the door anyway, so I couldn’t really escape even if I wanted to. His grip tightened again, preventing me from moving, and my kit fell from my arm, landing in the remaining space in front of me with a soft thud.

“Please, don’t move.”

I obeyed and grew still in his arms again, trying to relax my body against his so my muscles didn’t ache from all the tension. I could feel the edge of his holster strap press against my lower rib, and his mask hung over my hair, shifting only when I moved. We stayed as we were and I listened for any movement I might have missed outside, but after a couple minutes like this, there was nothing.

I shifted again, and he groaned behind me.

Then I noticed it.

Something else pressed up into my lower back, I stopped immediately and swallowed thickly.

“Konig.. is that-“

“I’m sorry.” He responded, his grip on me never failing to loosen. As if the moment he moved the string would snap and everything would fall apart.

I was going to ask if it was a knife, or another handgun he had tucked and hidden away, but the conviction in his voice made me blush redder than any burn the sun could give me.

I cleared my throat and put on my doctor voice, “It’s okay.” I began and his tension slipped if not just slightly.

I made my final move to turn to face him, met with some resistance at first but ultimately he allowed me to move.

“No I’m-“ he voiced unevenly, unsure about the entire predicament probably. My heart raced in my chest as I turned us so we were flush against each other. One of his arms remained wrapped around my back gently, the other keeping a death grip on the doorknob. Practically welding us shut in this room.

I tried to glance up to his face, but the small closet left me no room to. I’m sure his eyes were glued shut anyway. I let my hands circle around his middle, and rested my head on his chest- the strap of his gun dug into my cheek but I didn’t really mind. His entire warmth enveloped me.

“What are you doing?” He whispered, I could feel his mask shift above me as he talked.

“Shh.” I said and let my body weight press against him.

“Try to relax, Konig.”

It took another minute or so, but eventually both his arms came to rest over my back, and his chin lowered to sit on my head. We cuddled like this for what felt like hours, my feet grew sore from standing, but thankfully Konig took most of my weight.

After a while my body grew numb, and any intruding poking and prodding died down too. Reluctantly I slowly pulled back, supporting my entire body weight back onto my own two feet. Konig sighed but let me pull away, and I felt incredibly colder outside of his arms.

I wanted to say something, anything that would help ease the tension that stood between us, but words were lost on me. He also said nothing as he reached for the doorknob, there was a moment when his eyes tipped over to me, and I thought he would say something, but he instead shoved the door open. The entire thing practically crumbled under his force. We spilled out into the hallway and I took a second to steady myself. Konig went back up to the roof to retrieve his case, and I made my way outside cautiously.

Tire tracks sat heavy in the sand, and trailed off behind the building towards where the lights I saw earlier were. I heard as he approached my side, silently. He ticked the radio back on and mumbled something I couldn’t hear. Prices voice rumbled back over the static and instructed us to meet him at the nearest regroup location.

Without a glance back at me he started off in one direction, opposite of where Soap and Price had disappeared before. I followed the path he set, and a new feeling of uneasyness found it’s way back to sit heavy in my stomach. Being given the cold shoulder didn’t feel good, suddenly I regretted any of my actions.

I chewed on my lip, should I say something?

I hesitated, “Where-“

“Safehouse.” Konig replied, without missing a beat. As if he already knew the question I was going to ask. I nodded to myself and kept my head down, watching only his boots and my own feet following them. The strap of my bag digging into my shoulder.

About three miles later we arrived at an old warehouse. There was a gap in the chain fencing that we both squeezed through, my smaller frame a lot easier then Konigs. He unlatched the side door and it creaked open in front of us.

The ceilings were high, and a loft sat overlooking the main area. A couple smaller rooms were boxed off to the right, probably offices at some point. The rest of the space was empty, save for a table that sat directly in the middle. A map and some other random papers littered on top of it. The place looked like it hadn’t seen the presence of anything in years. Sand and dust filled in through the cracks in the windows and left piles of the stuff below the frames.

We were the first ones here.

Konig climbed the steps as if he’d been here a hundred times. I followed him up and he settled on a torn red couch, unloading his heavier equipment and tossing his case onto the ground. I dropped onto my duffel bag and watched as he worked.

His fingers were long and easily disassembled his rifle into three large chunks. He placed them back into his case and latched it back up, finally taking a moment to look over at me.

He spoke first.

“Are you alright?”

If I wasn’t exhausted from the hike in the dunes, and muscles tense from our earlier encounter I probably would’ve had half a mind to give him some attitude. But I was tired, and he was my comfort.

“No.” I choked out.

He immediately rose and it took him two strides to reach me, arms returning around my frame and enveloping me completely. I let a huff of frustration escape me.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Maus.” I fisted at his vest, pushing my head into where his neck met his chest. His kneeling position made him the perfect size for me to ball up into.

“I’m tired, Konig. I’m not fit for this.”

His large hand smoothed my hair back and the movement instantly calmed me. I sighed heavily against him and pushed myself off.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, “It’s fine- I’m fine.”

His eyes searched mine, and he kept his arms lazily looped behind my back. I was looking down at him slightly from this angle. Though there wasn’t much light in the space, I could read the contours of his eyes and brows perfectly. He was worried and it tore at my heartstrings.

The last person to look at me like this…

The photo in my breast picked burned hot and I tore my eyes away from him.

He glanced down between my lap and back at the couch, then his palms flushed against my back as he ushered me over to the couch. In all honesty it was torn and battered and didn't really look that comfortable. Konig sat first, and opened his body up to mine so that I fit right in between him and the back of the couch. I was wrong, it was warm here. I could feel my lids pull heavy on my eyes.

Warmth surrounded me and my shoulders burned less when I woke, my body practically jerking me awake. Konig already had his eyes on me, of course. His entire body blocked most of my view to the warehouse but I could tell it was still dark out. I tucked my arm under me and a deep sigh escaped me.

“Sleep more, little Maus, I will wake you when we need to leave.”

I shook my head, his accented voice sending pleasant pulses through my body.

“I just woke up.”

“You were only asleep an hour, maybe.” He hummed. His right arm had fallen over the two of us as I slept, and I noticed he ditched his helmet and armored vest. The mask still hung between us though. Evident of where his trust stood.

I didn’t say anything about it, but I rolled my cheek over his chest. He was so damn warm, it was an embrace I never wanted to leave. It was like the dangers that lurked and loomed outside didn’t seem so intimidating under his presence. I let my eyes fall close again and pressed tighter against him. He stiffened.

“Am I too close, Konig?” I voiced, needing some kind of confirmation that this kind of thing was okay. Obviously it teetered some lines, and I didn’t want to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with. The pit in my stomach hoped he would answered how I wanted him to, though.

His arms tightened around me and he bent his face down into my hair. “You cannot get close enough, Maus.”

The tension that filled the air around us settled into something heavier.Konig felt like a brick wall, and me just a puddle of sap in his arms. I gingerly placed a palm over his abdomen and I could feel the muscles tense and flex underneath. He was so quiet that I thought he might’ve fallen asleep if it hadn’t been for the fingers twitching behind my back. I craned my neck to look up at him. His eyes drooped to mine, expectant.

We stayed like that, staring at the other for an eternity before he moved, shifting me under him as gently as he could. I felt incredibly tiny as he hovered over me like this, forearms either side of my head. His mask hung down and brushed against my neck, the black balaclava he wore under it more apparent through the holes. He caught me staring at it so he raised one hand to pull it off, I shot an arm up to stop him, our fingers intertwining.

“It’s okay- you, you don’t have to.”

His eyes crinkled as he laughed. It was one solid ‘ha’ before he pulled it down and tossed it over the arm of the couch behind me. He still donned the balaclava, but seeing his face outlined as it hugged him tight made my stomach flip. His brows were light and thick, and his nose was large, the crook of it pressing out against the tight mask. His eyes traced my face equally and settled on my lips. There was hesitation in his eyes, and I shared it. Was this really alright?

His eyes searched mine asking that same silent question, and I felt compelled to nod slightly, stretching my neck out to meet his face.

It was chaste, and I felt silly for entertaining the idea of kissing him through his mask, but as the fabric pressed up against my lips, all of that inhibition was lost. I caved and folded my hands up to his cheeks in order to pull him closer. The stitched seam at his nose scratched harshly against my face when he pulled away to bury himself into my neck. Tension faded from his upper body and he pressed most of his weight down onto me comfortably. It would’ve been smothering if it was anyone else.

I could feel the heat from his face radiating through him. A mix of embarrassment and tension.

“Scheiße Liebling,” his voice was muffled and strained as he spoke into my neck. “I can not stay away from you.”

___________

I felt it again, his hardness pressed deep into the crevice of my hip. Heat centered in my core as he spoke, slipping in and out of German.

My face flushed and I turned my head from him as he rose up slightly. He shifted onto one side, pulling up the bottom of his mask to sit snugly over his nose. The cut he got earlier this week was practically nonexistent now. If the skin of his face hadn’t been so pale I probably wouldn’t have noticed the faint red scratch. And his lips..

His tongue flicked out to wet them and I couldn’t help but stare. He must’ve shaved recently, because the bit of stubble I saw from before was gone completely now. Had he planned on this? No, it was probably more comfortable for him to stay clean shaven under the mask. The skin just under his lips were raw, and I wondered if he had a habit of biting them.

When he settled back down over me, he hid his face in my neck, leaving small pecks and nips at the soft skin just under my jaw. I sighed and wrapped one hand around his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer. The other went flat against his stomach, and I traced the hard muscle down. My fingers itched over the metal clasp of his belt and his hips twitched down into me suddenly, his hardness digging roughly as the end of my shirt slipped up.

“Maus,” he groaned out, snapping a hand over mine just as I palmed him through his pants, squeezing my fingers together tightly. He held our hands there for a moment as he tried to calm down, his breath rapidly growing harsh and uneven. I rolled my palm from the base to its fingers, grabbing as much of his length as I could through his zipper. He whined and detached his hand from over mine, settling it on my hip and letting me move as I wanted. I smiled in small victory and moved to unclasp the belt, twisting my hips up to give us more stimulation.

Konig slowly started to become a mess above me, and I was enjoying every second.

I pulled his zipper open with my fingers and palmed him through his briefs. The two belts he wore left little room for me to pry open his pants any more, so I had to settle on tugging him through his boxers. His hips jutted down into my hands again.

“Liebling..” he gasped out, grinding into me harsher- unaware of how his bigger physique could crush me in a matter of seconds. The weight felt good, however, and it wasn’t much of anything I couldn’t handle. He nipped at my neck again and I moaned with him, fumbling to pull his manhood out of the window of his boxers.

“Maus, please” his pitch rose again when my hand met his skin. He rolled his hips down into mine and pinned my hand there, flat between our bodies.

“Konig I can’t,” I wiggled my fingers against his flesh, it burned hot against my skin.

“Please,” he whined, face buried as deep as it could go in my shoulder. “It’s too much.”

I slowed, coming to a halt. He huffed heavily above me when I did. Was I hurting him? My movements were unpracticed and probably juvenile, I was inexperienced with touching men so intimately but I didn’t mean to be so rough.

“I’m sorry, does it hurt?” I hadn’t expected my voice to be as gravely as it was.

“It aches,” I felt bad for a moment before he began to grind down into me again, “Liebling, I can’t take much more.”

Then I quickly understood what he meant when his thrusts grew sloppy. I wasn’t hurting him, I was in fact making him feel the very opposite. My lips parted and I panted with him, resuming my movements. I tried to wrap my hand around his length, but because of how closely he was pressed against me I couldn’t do any more than follow his jerks with my palm.

His face finally rose from my chin and he left sloppy kisses up my cheek to the corner of my lip. His hooked nose pressed against the contours of my face when he moved down to find my mouth.

They were like velvet, his lips brushed mine lightly, non-committal and hesitant. His breath fanned my face and as I pulled my free hand up to the back of his neck- I could feel heat and sweat rise off him. His moans muffled into me when I pulled him down closer, forcing our lips together in a proper kiss.

We were both inexperienced and sloppy, but my skin pricked with heat nevertheless.

He pulled away suddenly and smacked a shaky hand against mine once more.

“W-wait liebling I-“ but it was too late, his cock pulsed against my hand, spilling hot and thick into my palm.

He whined out again and his body went stiff, save for the forearm that shook and quaked beside my head. His breath fanned my fave with heavy pants, and I was so surrounded by him that I swore I could smell his aftershave.

There was a breath before he spoke again.

“I’m sorry,” he pulled away and reached down for my bag. Pulling out a thin gauze pad he knelt above me and tucked himself back into his boxers before I could even get a glance at it. He wiped at my palm, cleaning the sticky residue from my fingers and at the bottom of my shirt where it came untucked.

“Scheiße,” he cursed again. “It’s on your shirt.”

I swallowed thickly, watching his mouth move as he talked made me want to kiss him again. His lips were bright red and raw. His eyes searched mine when I didn’t reply, finding them already staring at him. With his mask hitched up I could see the blush that ran up his neck, I wished I could see it on his cheekbones too.

He bit at his bottom lip under my stare, a nervous tick. I was right.

“What? You can stare your fill at me but I can’t look at you?”

He tossed the gauze pad aside and returned to his position above me, lips just slightly grazing mine.

“You can look at me if you like, Maus. But I want to be the only one you look at like this.”

My stomach twisted in a knot when his eyes bore into mine, looking for something I didn’t know if I could provide him with yet. I grew uneasy and evaded his gaze. His arms scooped me up easily into his lap, and I hid in his chest as he moved us in the corner of the couch. His hands rubbed at my back soothingly and it gave me a minute to calm down properly. I folded my legs between his, and turned so that my right side was flat against his chest, my head tucked just under his chin.

It was easier to talk to him like this, when he wasn’t looking so deep inside of me I felt like he could see my very soul.

“You said before you couldn’t stay away from me.”

He hummed in recognition, trailing a hand down my side and settling it on my hip.

“What did you mean?”

His fingers slowed and circled my exposed skin gently as he thought through his answer.

“You are in my head, all the time.” He sighed out, “And when I see you, it is like you are the only important thing in the room.”

He spoke and I’d be lying if I said it didn't pull at my heartstrings. I suddenly regretted asking the question. His hand snaked down my stomach and his fingers hovered over the waistband of my cargos. My body quickly grew warm again, and the skin where he touched sent shocks straight through my nerves.

“You surround me completely little Maus,” his hand dropped to my inner thigh and he squeezed the muscle there. My mouth parted and I snapped my knees shut, trapping his hand where it was, preventing it from sliding any higher.

“W-what does that mean? You keep saying it.” I tried to speak, and attempted to distract his wandering hands. He lost his gloves some time ago, and his pale hands were starch against the dark of my jeans.

“It is something my father called my mother.” He mused, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. That was the first time he’s ever mentioned his personal life to me. I mulled the sentence around in my head.

His palm massaged my thigh and the motion relaxed them some, he took it as a sign for him to continue. He swiftly snapped open the button to my trousers and centered his palm over my core, pressing into me gently. My back was to him at this point, and I was at his mercy in his lap.

“Verdam-“ he began, choking back a heavy groan. “You’re so wet.” He said a bit too loudly for my taste. A blush rose to my cheeks and I rapidly grew embarrassed. I tried to wiggle from his grasp, but he bound his other arm around my waist and pulled me back into him.

“I’m sorry,” he half-laughed out. “Let me return the favor.” His fingers probed at my entrance through my underwear.

“Hmm?” He prompted again, waiting for a response from me before rubbing his fingers up and down my slit. He found my clit through my underwear and circled it lightly with two fingers.

I nodded and he quickly flipped us again, so my back was once again on the couch cushions, and he hovered over me for only a moment before he moved down my body. Trailing kisses against my lower stomach and nipping at the corner of my thighs. I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me when he pressed his face up against my core, pulling my pants down completely and tossing them to the side. His fingers pulled at the damp cloth covering and inched it to the side, kissing my puffy lips and my hips involuntarily raised to meet him more.

“Konig.. konig,” I breathed, hand settling over his head and pulling him into me. My skin pricked as I teetered on the edge, one word from him and I knew I would fall apart completely. One of his fingers slipped through me, and rubbed it against my folds gathering up all my slickness before sliding inside of me. His fingers were long and thick and they reached further inside of me than I ever could.

“That’s it maus, just feel good.” He mumbled into my core, the vibrations shooting all around me.

I moaned and threw my head back as his mouth found my clit, sucking and licking at the swollen head I trembled underneath him. He flattened his tongue to lap at me more vigorously. Another finger joined the first and he rubbed the inside of my walls with so much intensity that my thighs began to shake. My core tightened as he coaxed a quick orgasm through me. He curled upwards and the moment the pads of his thick fingers brushed against that sensitive spot inside of me, I came undone.

Tension left my body in rapid waves and I wasn’t even aware he was still talking to me until I started to come down. He continued to attack that little spot inside of me, tongue brushing every sensitive fold until it was too much and my eyes started to water. His tongue dipped in to taste me at my deepest. The muscle was thick and hot and I felt as it move inside of me.

“Okay! Okay,” I slurred and attempted to tap out, but his eyes snapped up to mine, a hungry and desperate look in his eyes. He only pulled away enough to speak clearer to me, fingers replacing his mouth once again.

“One more maus, please,” his finger quickened their pace and the end of his thumb found my clit again, playing with it in circles. “Come one more time for me, Liebling. Bitte, I want to feel you.”

It was the sweetest kind of torture. The Konig I knew from before was totally gone here, lust-drunk and pleading, he worked to pull a second orgasm from my body. I tried to shake my head and my fingers itched over his jaw, pulling his face close to mine in a desperate kiss.

“I can’t- there’s no way.” I whined and rutted my hips up into his, fingers never slowing and his pace completely relentless. He kissed me with more ferocity, and bit at my bottom lip, sucking it in between his teeth. I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut, another wave of pleasure crashing through me as he rubbed his fingers erratically against my inner walls.

“I know you can, come for me liebling.” His pleas sounded as desperate as mine and I couldn’t do anything to stop another orgasm from racking through me. My entire body shook as it tore through the pit in my stomach, gushing over his entire hand. My embarrassment flooding with it. If we hadn’t made a mess before- we definitely did now.

He gently pulled his fingers from me and sucked both clean in his mouth. My face cringed and twisted, and he lowered his lips back down to my neck to leave more sloppy kisses.

“Why do you make that face?” He questioned, continuing to feather me in light kisses.

I shrugged, by body too tired and too worn to trust any coherent response to come from me.

“You are so sweet, my little maus.” He rose slightly and palmed over my core gently, replacing my underwear to sit properly over me again. I twitched under him. “So tasty, Schätzchen.” He muttered mostly to himself.

Reaching over, he grabbed my cargos and helped me put them back on over my boots, buttoning the top for me. I was nearly ready to fall asleep all over again, I wish I knew where he found his energy.

Konig lifted me into his arms again, and seated us onto the less torn side of the couch. One hand in my hair, and the other along the back he spoke words to me in half-English, half-German before my eyes dropped shut once more, all my remaining energy leaving my body.

#könig is my babygirl #when you have to stop writing half way thru to Jill off #mutuals you didn’t see that #down atrociously bad #könig #könig smut #könig call of duty #könig x ofc #könig x origional female character #shameless smut #call of duty #call of duty smut

[padawansuggest]

Annnnnnnyways. That comment had me so fucked up that I forgot to eat for over 8 hours and now I’m gonna throw up if I don’t cause I need to take my pills :/

#seriously the anxiety is why I stopped writing and now here we are again :/ #like buddy I am an actual human being throwing up because of anxiety from your comment and you still have the audacity to call yourself #the victim as if that’s actually what happened #I’m sorry you chose to be angry at my boundaries and pissed on them????? #im sorry you got angy that you were supposedly more disabled than me but you def aren’t #I’m sorry that you chose violence when I decided to give you guys a christmas update #I’m im super upset that I got really bad comments on that chapter I worked so hard on #like thanks I was having the best day ever till I saw that and then I couldn’t leave my room or eat for nine hours #because of anxiety… yikes. you really chose to attack for nothing #I set a boundary but that was against your religion or some shit I guess #comment etiquette

[whysamwhy123]

Hmmm. What if I attempted to write a piece of Trash and posted it anonymously?

#What is wrong with you Sam you should not be allowed to write #This post was inspired by...something #Namely me getting a Bad Idea for a fic (thanks to someone's else's fic) #And then feeling The Shame because I'm just like that and this would normally be enough to stop me from even attempting it #But then I was just like...what if I tried anyway and just stopped giving a shit? #I'm being super vague here because reasons #But...this bitch is tempted to just write some problematic poorly written trash and shove it out there for all to see #It's not like I have a reputation to worry about I'm a nobody LOL #But at the same time there's a bunch of reasons why I don't think I should bother #Shame is only part of it tbh there's other more valid reasons why #it doesn't help that most of the other stuff I've been working on is stuff I don't think I could ever post anon or not #I'm babbling on about nothing here what the hell? #This is what happens when I kinda-sorta inch my way out of a month-long writing slump and then I start getting Ideas again #Bad Ideas! #Folks if I'm really about to enter my IDGAF Era of writing it's gonna be a baaaaaad time for all involved... #OK that's enough Sam let's stop now #......................................the idea is for an OrangeHook fic #Or whatever people are calling that now

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

the heist!mark brainrot is consuming me…, just imagine mark n the viewer meeting for the first time as little kids to shoplift candy or smth together ╥﹏╥

the (brain)rot consumes!! I can relate

my dear anon... LISTEN. I am a big advocate for childhood friends captaineer, it's one of my favourite headcanons, but a childhood friends AU for the heist partners? that's something I hadn't considered until now. and it's adorable. I had to write something for it asap because I was INSPIRED. I hope you enjoy💖 thanks for sparking the idea!

Heist!Mark x reader (not explicitly romantic at all it's more about the friendship in this one) | Words: 1,317

You are in the kitchen of your shared home base, unloading the groceries your heist partner has just bought, when you pick up a bag of sour candies, smiling quietly to yourself. He's always been a fan of them.

Turning the packet in your hands, an old memory drifts to the surface of your mind:

You don't remember exactly how long ago it was, but you couldn't have been much older than maybe ten.

Your father was busy working, and had reluctantly sent you to the store with a small list after you insisted you could handle it on your own.

You slipped the folded piece of paper out of your school bag and scanned the list of items. At the bottom was a note that read, ‘Remember to stay hydrated, kiddo! :)’

You walked around the supermarket collecting the few things on your list and placed them in your trolley. On your way to the checkout, you passed through the candy aisle and slowed to eye the products on display.

‘Aren't you going to get anything?’

Your head perked up, shocked at the sudden voice addressing you.

There was a boy next to you with dark hair, looking at you inquisitively. He seemed to be about your age. He might have even been slightly shorter than you.

You must have been standing here for longer than you realised if it had prompted him to ask you about it.

You shook your head.

‘Why not?’

‘Oh, um. My dad only gave me enough money for what we need,’ you said timidly, showing him the list.

‘Ohh, that's too bad.’ Then, a small yet undeniably mischievous smile appeared on his face. He glanced discreetly up and down the aisle. ‘You know you can just — ’ and he took one of the small packets of candy off the shelf and slipped it swiftly into his pocket.

Your eyes went wide, stunned. Both from the fact that he was suggesting you steal, and at the speed and subtly with which he'd enacted the crime, as if he'd done it dozens of times before, if not more.

‘What are you doing?’ you spoke in a harsh whisper.

‘It's no big deal,’ he said in a lower voice than before, but one that still felt entirely too loud. He slipped another bag into his pocket.

You did not want to associate with this boy any longer.

You pushed your trolley away and towards the checkout, handing your items to the cashier.

You were unhappy to find the boy waiting for you when you exited the store, shopping bag in your hand.

‘What do you want?’ you asked, a little standoffishly, frowning at him.

‘There's no need to be rude,’ he said with a small pout. ‘Y'know, I think I might have seen you at school a few times.’

To your dismay, he followed along as you started walking home. When you pressed him, he simply said, ‘Hey, I'm not following you! I live down this way too, I promise!’

As the two of you walked, he chatted annoyingly by your side. What was more annoying was that you found you didn't mind his presence. You were a quiet kid and you didn't have many friends. Having someone to walk home with you was kind of a nice change of pace.

Just as you thought this, though, you immediately chided yourself mentally. You and him were not friends. You weren't going to be friends. This boy was a criminal and he wasn't even sorry about it.

You frowned in thought.

Oh no, what if he got caught? What if you went to juvenile jail for being an accomplice to theft? What would Dad say? What would Mom say? What if—’

‘Hey, are you listening to me? You haven't responded to anything I'm saying.’

You simply sighed as he pulled you out of your thoughts.

‘Are you still mad about the candy? I told you it's not a big deal.’

You stopped as you realised you were approaching your front door. The journey seemed to have gone a little faster than usual.

‘Really?’ you finally replied in an exasperated tone. ‘That was no big deal for you? That was stealing. Stealing is wrong.’ You couldn't believe you had to spell it out to him.

‘They won't notice a couple tiny bags of candy are gone. My mom says big companies that own supermarkets are greedy. They make loads of money anyway and don't pay enough taxes.’

‘Does your mom know you're a thief?’

‘W- well, no, but-’

‘That’s what I thought.’

He looked a little disheartened.

‘Please don't tell anyone. I'm sorry if I upset you,’ he said quietly, looking down.

You hadn't really expected an apology from someone like him. You sighed again.

‘I won't tell, but don't expect me to just go along with it. And don't act like we're best buds all of a sudden. We don't know each other. You don't even know my name!’

‘Well, what's your name?’

You gave him a slightly surprised look before telling him your name, albeit hesitantly.

‘Look, I have to get going now…’

You fumbled with the shopping bag as you reached into your coat pocket, feeling for the house key, when you suddenly felt something that wasn't there before. It made a crinkling sound beneath your touch.

‘You didn't.’ You pulled the candy out of your pocket. ‘When did you—?’

The boy grinned at you.

‘I thought you could have one of mine.’

‘I don't want your stolen candy!’

‘Judging by how you looked at it earlier, I think you do. And besides, stolen treats taste better!’ he called out, already walking away.

‘Wh- SHH!’ You hoped none of your neighbours had heard.

‘I'm Mark by the way! See ya, buddy!’

You stood outside the front door, dumbfounded.

Finally you let yourself in. Your dad wouldn't be home yet for a while.

You put the shopping away and sat down at your kitchen table, staring at the stolen goods in front of you.

You could try to put it back but… that would be more suspicious.

You figured, the deed had been done. There was nothing you could do now, so you may as well make the most of it.

You tore the edge of the packet and popped one of the candies in your mouth, savouring the sweet and sour combination on your tongue.

Maybe Mark was right. It did taste extra good. But maybe it was just because you'd been craving it.

What a weird kid.

‘Stealing is wrong, huh…?’ you mumble under your breath. You look down at the candy in your hands. It's not the same brand as the one from back then, but you imagine it tastes more or less the same, from what you remember.

Present day Mark is the one to pull you out of your musings.

‘Hey, what's with that face you're making? I know that look, buddy. Are you contemplating your life choices??’

You chuckle softly.

‘Just… got reminded of something. I suppose I got lost in nostalgia for a moment.’

‘Oh yeah? Penny for your thoughts?’

You turn and smile at him.

‘This just made me think of an annoying little boy stealing candy from a supermarket. And his reluctant acquaintance who ended up getting dragged into his antics for the foreseeable future.’

It takes a second for it to click.

‘Ohhhhh.’ You watch as realisation turns to him smiling fondly at the memories, which turns to him snapping his attention to you with a fake-offended look.

You laugh at his expression.

‘Wait, hey! Annoying?!’

‘Mhm.’

‘Excuse you, I was a wonderful, sweet and positively charming child.’

Your laughter rings out in the kitchen, full of mirth, and he shakes his head at you with a familiar lopsided grin, and you are so grateful for the cheeky little boy who approached you that day.

#feels kinda weird calling it candy instead of sweets. but I did it bc they presumably live in america #I'm working on at least two other fics rn but I had to stop everything to write this #I finally submitted a uni thing I've been doing for a while so I felt like I deserved a break #and I sat down and wrote majority of this in one sitting lmao #lmao it ended up being my longest fic to date??? WHAT THE HECK?! #BTW AGAIN. NOT ENCOURAGING STEALING THAT'S BAD DON'T DO IT #also yes y/n's dad is the one the only stan the water man #I hc stan to have been the captain's actual dad so I just went 'wth why not in this universe too?' #I really enjoyed this one #thank you again anon #also. I looked up pictures of young markiplier out of curiosity and to get into the headspace Ig/get a mental image for this #and guys. I highly encourage you to do the same. #HE WAS SUCH A LITTLE GUY🥺 #and he looked as cheeky and mischievous as he often does now lolol #that also inspired parts of this haha #I tried to write a young heist!mark in a way that I think? would make sense for him #bit of a kleptomaniac maybe lol #and possibly more seemingly extroverted than I wanted but I had to kick off the interaction somehow #amee writes #a heist with markiplier #ahwm #partners in crime #heist mark x y/n #heist mark x reader #heist mark #heist!mark #markiplier egos #markiplier cu #asks #anonymous

[scalproie]

might be even more protective of jun that i am of kaz and jin

#i see bad takes on kaz and jin im like “yup its a tuesday alright” #i see jun being called “delusional” i have to stop myself from flying in a blind fucking rage #sorry you cant understand her. but tbf the writing doesnt make it any easier so i guess that tracks #“she deserves better” and the sky is fucking blue can we move on? #tagging later