#fem poland

[wqxd]

redraw!

[havg02]

Angry nyotalia gorls Art dump

'Am trying to learn to draw more facial expressions bc I found out I have a bit of a same face syndrome and 'same pose' syndrome if that even exists, by inpri3d from manhwas bc manhwas have the best portrayals of anger

And yes, i have given up on a lot of them and just winged it lol

[apotrelavrius]

polak

[thehetaliaweeb]

So I was scrolling and I found this picture of frm Poland but it lacked colour and I kinda wanted to see what it would look like with colour. So I decided to add some myself! This is my progress so far. The original is by @ritterlaurinatis

[coralcatsea]

Nyo!Poland

She's pretty good. Her traditional style dress is very lovely! I wish more of the nyos got to wear traditional dresses/outfits.

[nonuggetshere]

Almost forgot to post this fucker

The first 3 are more casual, the 4th one is what he wears to political meetings and the last one is what he wears in public (+ fullbody veil but I got sick of drawing this so no veil for the ref)

[killingick]

“—Reaper do you read me?”

GHOST x READER

TW: HOMICIDE, MENTIONS OF GORE, EXPLOSION, WEAPONS

0650 ʜᴏᴜʀꜱ

ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: —ᴋʀᴀᴋᴏᴡ, ᴘᴏʟᴀɴᴅ

ᴅɪꜱᴘᴀᴛᴄʜ ꜱqᴜᴀᴅ: 7

ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ: ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ (6751) ꜱᴏᴀᴘ (2137) ʀᴇᴀᴘᴇʀ (4371)

"Area D clear, Reaper move forward." 

"Affirmative."

Leading with the barrel of your rifle, you peered around the corner, checking the blind spots out of reach from your comrade's sniper lens. 

Being more skilful when it came to close combat, you and Soap had agreed to traverse the area on foot, with Ghost as your lookout. Your mission to locate any files that could provide you with insights on your country's opposer's next move.

The area had already been wiped out by an aerial squad a few days prior, but you could never be too careful; anyone could have decided to report back to the scene to retrieve information, just as your squad had been ordered to do.

"I've been standing here for twenty minutes and my back is fuckin' killing me, can I get a bloody report ghost."

"Negative."

You snickered at the two's childish banter. Ever since Soap had said you were better with a knife than Ghost and had a higher body count on the field hence you receiving your code name 'Reaper,' Ghost's ego was massively bruised. 

He'd been keeping an eye on you, and occasionally checking on Soap but refusing to help him out any more than that.

"Entering a building on Block D. I've sighted 3 entrances, North, South and West. Windows are barricaded with debris. Entering through the South Point."

The building stood tall, kissing the hazy daze that covered the sky and buried the ground below in a blanket of snow. You couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped your lips as the building had somewhat felt slightly warmer than the outside.

Your uniform had done the bare minimum to keep you warm over these past few days. You'd always find yourself pulling your pants up by your utility belt and tucking your body warmer into it to stop the sharp cold breeze from nipping at your skin.

Ghost had offered you his body warmer given that it was warmer and bigger, but you'd brushed over the kind gesture given that you'd known he'd needed it. You knew he was more than tired about you complaining about how cold you were and it showed.

So when you'd been shivering your ass off on the outskirts of the city and letting out low curses unbeknownst to your other companion Soap who'd been fast asleep, he'd pulled you by your sleeping bag into his warm embrace, throwing an arm around you and rubbing your side soothingly till you'd fell asleep.

Soap had teased the soldier about it in the morning, but he flipped him off, claiming that he needed to get his head out of the gutter because he'd never feel any kind of way about you.

Which stung but you got over it despite your own feelings that had developed over time and acted normally.

You progressed about the room which was silent. Papers and bookshelves scattered themselves about the floor whilst dust occasionally fell from he ceiling as a result of the building being unstable. 

Pulling your visor down you turned on your night vision so you could see more clearly and avoid the dust particles from falling into your eyes.

"Let's play a little game since Ghost is still in his feelings." Soap teased.

"What has two legs and half a body."

"Don't tell me." Ghost groaned.

"Your mum by any chance?" Ghost chuckled heartily at the response, putting a smile on your face as you crouched down skimming over some of the papers on the floor.

"Okay L/N, stand by that. But no it was half a dog."

"I said don't tell me." You could hear the way Ghost cringed in his voice. After killing so many people you thought he'd have grown used to the violence by now, but animals is where he drew the line, which you thought was cute.

Checking both corners at the door way, you cautiously edged your way into the hallway. Most rooms were blocked out from entry with bookshelves, or rubble leading you over to the stairwell.

"What's smart, proactive and ticks—."

"Not Reaper." Ghost cut in.

"Fuck you Riley."

"He's not wrong." Soap chuckled earning an eyeroll from yourself.

"A bomb." Ghost replied.

"Ding ding ding." Soap affirmed.

Even though he couldn't see you, Ghost had been keeping a sharp eye on the building you entered. Squinting closely through the windows on each floor as best he could despite his distance and checking the entrances repeatedly.

He didn't want to make you anxious but something just didn't feel right.

Soap had almost encountered two parties of soldiers marching through his designated area which they'd all referred to as Block A, whilst he'd been rested and watching on Block C. Occasionally jumping down for cover on his building when overhearing other soldiers walking by below, speaking in another language.

But Block D had been strangely quiet and you were more than careful. You'd often get sent on search and destroy missions due to your stealth, and the fact that you'd never leave a trace of yourself behind down to the last hair strand, led him to believe that you wouldn't get caught for anything foolish. But the silence in your area was alerting. It was almost as if people had knew you were already there and that's when Ghost's heart sank.

A good few minutes had passed of him and Soap's childish games and you didn't respond with a sly remark or giggle. He'd constantly brushed it off as you focusing despite the fact that you'd be a lot more talkative with the two.

In addition to this, it had only just occurred to him that squads of 3 to 5 people would walk by his building.

The direction they had been walking in now becoming more evident as Block D.

An ambush.

"Reaper, get out of there, you've been compromi-."

A large bang sent tremors throughout the whole city. The building jerked harshly throwing Ghost onto his side on the rooftop, with his rifle falling gracelessly by his side.

"What the fuck?" 

"Just fucking get to Block D!" He cursed as he scrambled back onto his feet, sprinting through the exit and down the stairwell.

Did he just lose you?

He just fucking lost you.

You weren't responding, and as much as his heart would twist and tear from it's heart strings at the sight of your buildings windows being complimented by the red and orange flicker of flames, he refused to come to terms with the idea of it. Not until he'd fucking seen you.

"Ghost I'm here, it's not looking good. The whole area's fuckin' crawling with them I couldn't get closer to the building if I tried. REAPER 4371 DO YOU READ ME?" Soap called through the intercoms, once again no response.

Ghost ignored Soap's aimless screaming through the comms as he rapidly approached Block D, foolishly forgetting to check corners whilst he sprinted through back routes in his haste to see you.

As he turned the corner a blade quickly swung itself in his direction. Raising his rifle, he blocked it sending a swift knee to the opponent's stomach before clawing a knife out from it's holster and slitting their throat.

Pushing the body away from him he continued before pausing. As confirmed by Soap, about twenty people stood and lingered around the building, all with automatic rifles which he wouldn't stand a chance against with a sniper alone.

He cursed to himself, regretting leaving the automatic at their camp, not wanting it's weight to slow him down.

 He felt his heart stop as he slumped down against a wall, putting his head in his hands.

He'd failed you.

He'd promised himself he wouldn't let anything like this happen to you and like always, he failed to keep that promise. He knew you'd liked him but he was too scared to lose you on the field so he acted like he'd hated you just so if he did lose you it'd pain him less, but it wasn't fucking working.

If only he'd spent more time with you. If only he'd let himself be more vulnerable around you whilst he'd still had the time to.

A crackle came through the Comm's.

"You won't fuckin' believe this Simon, I fucking found her crawling through the street with the files! She's injured, knife to the side and Comm's is broken, but she's breathing, we need to get her back to camp asap."

A wave of relief washed over the soldier at his comrade's voice.

"Affirmative." He cleared his throat before continuing. "Forget the rendezvous point just get her there and don't get caught."

[arthiiwille]

🎃Halloween costumes request #1!! I enjoyed drawing this so much🥹 For this part the requests are mainly from close friends and followers from other platforms. Another request chart will be open on IG (@arthii_vi) soon(-ish?)

[pbielik]

Tianę raczej kwalifikujemy jako anty-hero, ale ten dźwięk mi po prostu pasował :)

[hetagrammy]

Forever thinking about how much Erzsebet's shit got rocked when she hit puberty and started presenting as a woman. Like you've been raised as a boy your whole life, then all of a sudden someone is saying "No, that's not right." And then you still have these things you want to do like hunting and wrestling and riding but you're told that the things you love to do are now inappropriate. You're not considered as capable anymore for no other reason except for your gender presentation changing. You're suddenly being sexualized by the world around you, and even your childhood frenemy, who is having a pretty hard time with this adjustment as well, is treating you differently in this way. So you try to settle in, and you do embrace femininity in ways that make you happy. You get to be the big sister, you wear your pretty dresses and ribbons, you work at being more gentle. But there is always a part of you that doesn't fit that mold quite right, little quirks you still have and interests you still long for, that society quickly picks up on and judges. And even if you're content in your femininity, you will always be haunted by how it was thrust upon you rather than fully chosen.

[council-of-beetroot]

Dear Council of Beetroot I come here again with another ask. So Poland. What are your headcanons on appearance but NOT what he looks like. More like What are his feeling about appearance, about make up, about what he wears. Has this changed throughout the times. Do others have opinions on this? Is his appearance and upkeep of it important in your characterization or not particularly?

I mainly ask this because his appearance and the emotions he has tied to it are things that are very very significant to my characterization of him so I was just curious.

Ooh this is fun especially since this has been on my mind while writing Polpru fics.

Feelings about appearance

I definitely see him acting confident in his appearance but in internally being not very confident in his appearance

He definitely has those particular insecurities for some physical features

About makeup

Note i have never worn makeup before but he likes makeup it's another way to add to his look

Feelings about what he wears

Doesn't like being forced into wearing a particular outfit

Will wear something in to stand out or go against authority or majority but it doesn't mean he doesn't feel confident in doing so

I think he puts effort into what he wears because he has the mindset that if i look the part i can play the part in terms of daily life and responsibilities

Enjoys clothing though as it is a form of self expression and uniqueness.

He enjoys accessories

I could see him being more comfortable in feminine clothes but forgoing them in certain periods to try and adhere to more masculine standards that are expected of him.

Appearance and upkeep

Appearance and upkeep are very important to him

There's a lot that can be said about how the right outfit can determine whether or not people see you as legitimate

Definitely has had to go long times foregoing proper hygiene this definitely bugs him feeling dirty for long periods of time.

I'll probably add to these but let me know what you think these were on the top of my head.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Lovefool [dark!Konig x fem!Reader]

Konig gets to secure a little trophy from the battlefield. Hope you're in for a ride.

!TW! Kidnapping, Yandere themes, Dub-con, dark!Konig

Tags: Yandere, Dark Romance, colonel!Konig, dark!Konig, Size kink, Age gap(Konig in his thirties and Reader is in her twenties), Stockholm syndrome speedrun, Konig is a huge pervert, submissive Reader

You never knew who he was before he attacked.

Your teammates did – whisperers about KorTac getting on their tails, stories about their crazy psycho commander who could barely pass a word to his subordinates while smacking heads off trained men in full armor. Spooky tails for the recruits who refuse to train in their free time – something about “If you aren’t getting in shape by the end of the month, König is going to get you”.

You never knew who he was – you barely knew the organization you worked in.

Cyber security, lowly private military. They are hiring based on CV alone and didn’t ask for a fancy college and a few degrees in hacking that you could never get. They wanted experience, and you had at least a bit of it – you passed through basic training, never serving in the military before, but fine with promises of never actually going out in the field since you would be giving them intel and cyber support from the sidelines.

Well, they never told you that “the sidelines” would be 100 meters away from the actual battlefield.

You don’t even remember what the mission was about – something important, you guess, because they asked you to be here, on sight, computer in hand, and your comrades, with whom you barely talked outside of work, alongside you. Something about weapon smuggling, though you never actually understood if you were stopping it or doing it. Working in the middle of the European Union pays a lot, and it sort of counts as free travel – you’re somewhere in Germany, maybe on the border with Poland or Austria or Czech Republic. Nothing but fields of grass and occasional mountains. They gave you a riffle, a sidearm, and instructions to try not to get too wounded since they wouldn’t be dragging your body out of the field. S[read sheet with intel opened on your computer – you’re not their secretary, but at least they don’t want you to hack the Pentagon.

You heard screams from your tent: “KorTac”, “Compromised”

“König”

What was the weirdest thing – he was alone. A single man shouldn’t be able to take on a team of trained mercs, even as lowly as your company was. You all had weapons, armor, and means of at least taking him down as a group – and you were like a bunch of babies with toy guns on the playground when a pitbull came in.

Your leader fell first – you saw his head explode with a perfect shot right between his eyes. no one screamed sniper, but you still ducked under the field table, hoping that it would save you a few minutes of peace before you’d manage to delete all of the important files from your laptop. This was the protocol – if you are in the middle of dying, you need to first make sure that the enemy won’t get a hold of precious company correspondence and deeply personal photos of your cat.

You leaned forward to see what was happening on the field – you heard screams, you heard gunshots, you heard…

Laugh.

Deep, loud, the laugh that sounded both malicious and cheerful at the same time. It sounded like the man had a field day of breaking necks and stabbing his teammates. You've never seen so much blood on someone. You wish you never had.

Your teammates are falling like porcelain dolls when the elephant hits the kitchen, and you are trying your best to be a good little hacker and not let your company down before your inevitable demise. Turning on your laptop, waiting for whatever ancient version of Windows you had since the budget was mostly going into flashy guns and cool night vision headsets, you are getting ready to format all the disks when….

“The Windows update is in the process. Please, wait approximately 9 hours to complete”

Oh, hell no. You are not going to wait another 9 hours, you could barely survive for the next 9 minutes! Of course, naturally, obviously, you can just turn off the computer and get it off work because the files will get fried up and it won’t turn on again, ever. Which would still complete your goals, so…

— Come on, please…f-fuck, please, just let me…

“As a method of complete data loss prevention, Windows has disabled the ability to manually turn off your computer. Please, wait approximately 9 hours to complete”

— Found you, Maus.

Something – a hand, big, covered in the type of protection you never saw on your fellow soldiers – yanked your ankle, dragging you from under the table you were hiding under. The air stinks of blood and you involuntarily whimper, hands are going to grab the laptop. You need to smash it, destroy it, maybe just drop it hard enough on the floor, push it against the wall, and try your best to kick it enough to damage the disk and prevent KorTac from accessing the files.

The guy steps on your hand, taking the laptop away. You swear to god you hear a crack – you prayed that he would accidentally smash the laptop, but it was your hand under his boot.

— Hurts? Good.

You whimper as he carefully puts the laptop away, checking if it’s still working. He then returns to you – laying on the floor, fingers still shaking in pain, and attempts to grasp for the computer that was snatched away. There is nothing you can do – you have a gun, yes, and he has at least three guns and deadly man-bear hands, so even if you were fast enough to draw a gun before he would, he can just kick you like a puppy.

König – it’s him, it must be him, your teammates were screaming his callsign and talking about a devil who wears a sniper hood and has the height of a not very small tree – kicks you in the ribs, turning you from the side to your back, facing him. If you were stronger, you would do something cool – bite his ankles, for example. Or spit in his face as the last remaining tip of your dignity, before he would kill you or torture you or feast on your flesh.

— Verdammte Feiglinge, can’t even face your death like a man. Look at me, ja?

Crying isn’t a shameful thing to do. So, you cry. Soft little whimpers, sniffles, you are probably looking wet and disgusting, but you hurt, scared, and fucking tired and you want out of here, and you never actually wanted to be a soldier, and they all lied to you while promising to keep you out of the field, and this uniform is horrible, and you feel your tears soaking the half of bandana you were using as a face mask and…

He snatches the mask from your face. Look you in the eyes for long enough to make your whimpers even more audible. You can swear to god that his pupils were dilated. That his hands were shaking. You could see his eyes getting scrunched in that particular way that their owner is smiling – sincerely, openly, from the bottom of his heart.

— Please…p-please, be fast, I don’t know anything, I will…I won’t, I…

Rough, calloused hand goes to cup your face. The material of his glove is tough and soaked in blood as he smears it on your cheek, your fingers are going to wipe away the tears – you don’t understand what’s happening and you are even more scared, and your mouth is twitching in a terrified grimace. He pushes the tip of his finger into your mouth, making you suck on the blood and dirt of the fabric. You think you are going to throw up.

— Quiet.

You don’t understand why he didn’t kill you yet. He is touching your face, slowly, his one hand is enough to cover your entire head and you’re sure that if he’d want to just squish your brain like a rotten cabbage, he could just fine. He pushes his finger even deeper in your mouth and you lick it involuntarily because this is an intrusion and you have the brain of a two-year-old who sees the world through their ability to devour things, and his pupils dilate even more. He looks at your frown, your tears, and your lips wrapped around his finger.

He yanks you on your feet embarrassingly easy.

— You’re a hacker?

You blink a few times. Now, the protocol is that no, you can’t state who you are, If he knows that you are a hacker, he can take you away for interrogation, maybe torture you for passwords and the intel on your company, and being tortured isn’t something on your monthly calendar. Now, the protocol also states that you have to be able to die for your company, and…

He grabs your neck, lifting you – surprisingly gently, softly even, a hand supports your waist so you won’t be able to either kick him or get choked to death because of his grip.

— Answer me, Maus. I might have a reason to let you live.

You do want to live. Maybe not long, definitely not until you’re 100 years old with dozens of grandchildren, but being able to live past the next few hours and then days and then weeks does sound incredible.

— Y…yes. I’m a cyber security specialist.

He squeezes your neck more. Pushes you up, making you cough in your grip. You never experienced anything like this before – never had a guy strong enough to handle you like this. It would look cool from the side, probably – like something from a videogame. It would look hot in the porn, probably, if it was consensual and happening between two passionate lovers.

But you are his enemy, and he is yours – cold blue eyes peering right into yours. He is looking at you like a piece of meat, and not even in the lustful, hungry way. He looks like a butcher in front of a very good beef cut, thinking about where should he sink his knife to get the best steaks. A hunter standing over the wounded deer, thinking if he wants your head above his fireplace or taxidermy your whole body as a wicked trophy.

— Didn’t know they’d allowed someone so fucking small in the field.

You can swear to god that you saw him smile, under this hood. You can’t see his face, obviously, only the blood-soaked fabric and his eyes, but something still tells you that he is smiling. Enjoying your attempts to escape, maybe – you tried to kick him a few times, producing a deep, amused chuckle from his lips. He holds you so easily like you are nothing but a sweet little kitten. You might not be as big as him, but he still shouldn’t be able to lift a grown woman in full gear with just one hand. Right?

— I’m not…not s-small.

You don’t have much fight left in you. You are on the verge of just asking him to kill you, to be honest, your neck hurts and the pain spreading from your fingers pulsates and transforms. You hope they are not broken – even though you understand that your chances to live past these few minutes are very slim. Even your usual snark is lost, forbidden in the hands of a giant who likes to play with his food.

You do feel like a mouse – in a way that you would die under his boot very soon.

He – König, monster, colonel, fucking deadly mercenary – chuckles again. You can get used to this sound. Melodic almost, in a way that most alarms are melodic while telling you about inevitable catastrophe.

— Kleine verfickte Maus. Ich wette, dass du auch ganz eng bist.

He is laughing, again. Laughing and chuckling and you can’t take it anymore because he is so obviously stronger than you, it’s not fair. You want to put your foot on the ground and tap it like a spoiled brat, like a baby on the playground whining for their mom to take them home because other kids don’t want to play by their rules. The difference in skill is so obvious, that you aren’t even able to put on some sort of fight.

— Wh…I don’t speak German.

Your other hand – the one that didn’t get squished under his boot – goes to scratch his arm. Maybe put up enough struggle that he would accidentally let you fall right from his grasp. He doesn’t react and you feel hopeless. Weak, useless, you remember all the times you decided to miss training so you could just chill in the lounge with other rookies or do something on your computer.

— You will, Maus.

Then, there is only darkness.

***

You woke up…somewhere.

Come to think of it, it wasn’t the first time you woke up. You remember opening your eyes, feeling the vibrations under your cheek, hearing the noises of a car or other vehicle moving fast. Too fast for your already spinning head and stomach – you don’t remember if you were coughing or vomiting, but the movement wasn’t stopping to ever let you breathe. You were being transported somewhere, without a chance of knowing where you were heading. At least now, when you get to the final, as you think at least, destination, you’re clean.

As much as someone tied up to a chair somewhere that reminds you of a basement can be.

You’re stripped of your weapons obviously – not like you had a chance to use them anyway. Your hands are tied behind your back, your legs are bound to a chair, and your tragic lack of clothes is…more evident than you wanted it to be. At least you still have your underwear on – it still didn’t make the situation better. He saw you naked, completely, and he might do god knows what with you now.

Although you have some feelings about what he can do with a weak enemy hacker, half-naked and tied up in a secure place.

You would panic, but it requires energy. A resource that you don’t have right now.

— You woke up. Gut. Started to think I went too much again.

His accent is weird, you think. The thought only occurs to you now, when you can hear him more clearly while not being that afraid of getting out of this alive. His voice is weirdly calm for someone of his size – you want to think of gentle giants but this man is far from gentle and is almost too big to even be called a giant. A colossus, you want to say.

— Again?

Your voice is raspy, both from your sleep and from lack of water. When was the last time you drank anything? Probably more than a few hours – your throat is dry as sandpaper, and your head is dizzy from both your trauma – he either strangled you to unconsciousness or beat you hard enough – and the dehydration. You don’t want to spend another minute in this basement – you think this is a basement, at least, the high humidity on the walls and some garbage tossed to the corner is fairly evident. It’s large, too – you never saw anything like this. It might be a KorTac prison, but the remains of a bike and a few shelves of canned foods tossed to the other side of the room tell otherwise.

— We’re allowed to take trophies home. Sometimes I get…impatient.

You’re in his house? Does a monster like him even need a house?

“A trophy”

Funny how you don’t even feel that dehumanized. He didn’t kill you, you don’t feel the evidence of violation on your body – you are clean, neat even, your stomach and private parts aren’t hurting, and, as much as you hate to say this while tied up to a chair, you are as comfortable as a person in your position can be.

— What are you going to do with me?

You shake like a leaf. He finally steps closer to you, coming from the ladder – you can hear the lock and a heavy door being closed, setting your hopes of escape. Not like you could, in your position – the bruises already forming on your legs and hands, a numbed pain in your head and fingers. You feel shitty and comfortable at the same time, trying to tune off the discomfort and just concentrate on talking to him.

He didn’t kill you – this is good, you can work with this.

He left you alive – this is bad, he is going to torture you, he is going to do a million terrible things with you and you are not a part of a regular army, You didn’t get the torture resistance training. Maybe, if it was some of your friends, other girls in the group who got through military school and never missed gym to sit on their computers, they would have survived. You never felt so weak before – not even on the battlefield.

God, you’re scared.

— Your computer. My employer needs the info you had on it.

Oh.

It’s not personal, at least. He is here for the information, not to take advantage of your weak, fragile body. It made you almost feel at peace, almost made you forget about your lack of clothing and the damp basement you’re being put in.

— What sort of info do you need?

You slowly start to wiggle your hands in your binds – he used plastic locks, those stupid unremovable things that are slowly cutting the soft flesh of your wrists. You can’t untie them, but you can try at least tear them on the metal of your chair. You can try to, just to say that you did, and not feel bad about not resisting him at all.

— Your last mission. You were trying to smuggle weapons into the EU border.

— We were trying to stop the smuggling of weapons.

At least, you think you were – your head hurts, your memories are dizzy, and they never actually told you what kind of job you had. Come to think of it, actually, you never asked whether you were the good guys or the bad guys – it was always about money, paychecks, getting your job done and not dying from lack of nutrition because most tech-jokey jobs are already filled with uninspired chatbots and graduates from fancy colleges with a dick between their legs. Not reserved for tired women like you – so you turn to, ironically, paramilitary organizations. How the tables have turned.

— That’s not what our intel says, Maus. Do you want to lie to me?

You don’t. You just don’t know if you are telling the truth or lying because you are too fucking tired to even think straight.

He comes closer, and you whimper involuntarily. His breath hitches.

— Scheisse…they knew who to hire.

He grabs you by the neck again, and you can finally see him fully – towering over you, cold blue eyes staring right into you. You sob, not able to handle your emotions because, oh god, he is going to rape you, torture you, and then put a giant burning stick right in your ass because everyone knows that this is the best way to hack a computer – you just need to find the person who put the password in the first place.

— Can’t you just hack the computer yourself?

He chuckles – you’re getting tired of that sound. You hate that you found his voice attractive, you hate the fact he is keeping you down here. You want to destroy that part of your body that likes the attention – how his eyes are only kept on you. Never had a guy kidnapping you before, and you fight the feeling of disappointment that strikes you when you remember that he is here because he needs the intel. Not because he wants you.

— It wasn’t a…conventional operation. Can’t waste manpower on breaking the walls you installed.

His hand goes to cup your face again – you frown, breathing stops because he is so close and he takes off his gloves, allowing his rough, calloused fingers to linger on your cheeks. He squeezes your face in an almost adorable manner and steps back again. You lick your dry lips again, trying hard to keep at least one part of your body moisturized, and his breath hitches again.

He goes behind you, ruffles through shelves – you can hear something falling, his awkward grunt as he had to pick it up. He is more clumsy than you though – more nervous also, hands are jittering and fingers twitching every time you look at him. Adorable, really, how this huge mess of a man can look so innocent and almost nervous in front of you.

König returns after a minute or two, holding…a water bottle. Closed, lid still on, little plastic wrapping in place. You have half a mind about just drinking it, even though he doesn’t offer it to you. Not like you could open it yourself, with how your hands are still tied up behind your back.

— You don’t speak German.

It’s not a question – it’s a statement. you watch him opening the bottle with ease, large hands are working on something so fragile and delicate. You can’t remember the last time you had sex, not with how fast your head is spinning and memories still foggy, but you think it was a long time ago – because you feel your cheeks heated from the simple actions of his large fingers ripping through soft plastic.

God, you don’t really remember what was happening before you got here, not in detail, but you know that you needed to get laid like, a year ago.

— No.

— You will.

— Wh…what do you mean?

Is he going to make you install Duolingo? Is this what it all was about? Some elaborate prank, a marketing campaign, a tough lesson for silly girls who think that knowing just your native language is enough to live your life and…

— When you want something, Maus, you have to say “bitte”.

If you were a strong and cool soldier, you would use this moment to jump from your chair, using the weight of your body to fall on him and make him lose balance, and then spit in his face as your last remaining blast of human dignity.

But you aren’t a cool and strong soldier, and you really need to drink.

— B…bitte. What does this mean?

— Please.

He is almost whispering, the water bottle tanging in his hands in front of you. You take your time, considering the possibilities – you can play like a good little prisoner and allow him to take your pride and just toss it aside. You can play like an obedient hostage and ask him nicely, hoping that it would be enough.

You don’t know what to do – appearing too shy and soft can give him…ideas. And you don’t want this crazed giant who is keeping you bound in his basement to get ideas. You can…you probably can spend more time without water. Or food. Or shower and change of position.

You take your time answering, and his demeanor seems almost…anxious. His eyes are darting between the water bottle and your face, between his hands and your body – like he can barely keep a calm facade and not force you into doing something nasty. Like he is almost afraid that you are not going to cooperate and he would really have to hurt you in a meaningful way.

— Can I have water, bitte?

— Gutes Kätzchen. Drink, you’ll need it.

In the end, you broke down first. Not because you are this weak, but because being a brat won’t save you in a situation like this. You don’t want to die over something as trivial as your pride.

König seems…at ease. He takes off the bottle cap and brings water to your lips, allowing you to drink as much as you want. You lick the remaining drops from your lips and he puts a half-empty bottle aside.

— I won’t tell you the password.

You mumble under your breath, barely audible. He chuckles.

— I count on it, liebe.

[dixons-sunshine]

Study Buddy | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: Your exams were coming up soon. While studying for your history exam, you offered to tutor your boyfriend. However, Daryl accidentally revealed that he's much smarter at school than he gave himself credit for.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 1.3k.

A/n: This sucks. I don't like this at all, but I really wanted to get some actual writing done, so I powered through. I hope you like this nonetheless.

The late afternoon sun was starting its slow descend beyond the hills. The birds' chirps were slowly being replaced by those of crickets, and the owls were making their presence known one by one. There was a lone pigeon resting on the bench outside your trailer home, but the unsuspecting creature was startled by the rumbling of a stopping truck.

Daryl Dixon got out of the truck his brother had unofficially given him, a shopping bag with multiple snacks and a few drinks in his hand. He slammed the driver's side door shut behind him before walking up the small steps into your trailer. Without even really thinking about it, Daryl walked down the familiar narrow hallway that lead to your room.

The sound of your door opening diverted your attention away from the history textbook that rested on your bed. An enormous smile spread across your face at the sight of your handsome boyfriend. You got up from the bed and walked over to him, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a soft, tender kiss.

Daryl, shy as ever, could feel his face heat up at your actions, but he didn't resist. His hand that wasn't holding the bag rested on the small of your back, his fingers lightly gripping at your sweater. When you pulled back, he gave you a lopsided smile, his eyes holding a softness that he reserved only for you.

You smiled at him, your fingers playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. “Hey, handsome,” you greeted him in a whisper. “Took you long enough.”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry, sunshine. Got caught up at the store,” he explained, pulling back from your hold slightly to reach into the bag and take out a soda for you. “Got yer favourite for ya.”

You gently took the drink from his hands, sending him a look of appreciation. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment, his cheeks taking on the colour of the red rose bush outside your window. “Ya might've mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well,” you began, popping the lid of the can open. “Then I definitely don't tell you that enough. I love you, Dar.”

“Love ya too, peach.” Daryl smiled a small smile, before moving to plop down on your bed. He picked up the textbook that rested on your bed and started flipping through it, his eyes skimming over the pages. “Ya already started studyin'?”

You sat down next to him, placing the can of soda on your nightstand. “Only to make flashcards.” To prove your point, you picked up the aforementioned flashcards from your nightstand. “I was just skimming through for good measure. Just wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything important.” You made yourself more comfortable on the bed, adjusting the flashcards. “You ready to get some studying done?”

Daryl nodded. “How's this gon' work?” he asked.

“Well, I wanna see how much you know, so I'm gonna start asking random questions to see what we need to pay special attention to.”

“Alrigh',” Daryl shrugged nonchalantly. “Do yer worst.”

You smirked playfully. “I'll try my best.” You shuffled the cards, selecting a random one. “Okay, let's start easy. When did the Second World War start?”

“September 1st, 1939. Tha's when it was generally considered to have started. S'when the Nazi's invaded Poland,” Daryl replied with zero hesitation, absentmindedly twirling one of the loose threads on your blanket. “The UK and France officially declared war on the third, two days after the invasion.”

You looked at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows, impressed by the way he answered the question so easily and proceeded to answer two separate questions without being asked to do so. You knew Daryl was smart, there was no doubt about that, but you were still a bit surprised. Daryl made it no secret to you that he wasn't the best student, so his perfect answer to the question was a nice surprise.

“Correct,” you told him with a smile. “Next question: How many alliances were there in the Second World War, and what were they called?”

Daryl pondered over the question for a moment. “Two. The Allies and the Axis Powers, right?”

You flipped the flashcard over and read the answer, humming in approval. “Correct again. You're on a roll, Dar.”

Daryl shook his head, shrugging nonchalantly. “Ya ain't askin' any hard questions. Everybody knows the answers to those.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully, shuffling through the flashcards again to find a different question. “Okay, then, smart guy. How about this one: Which cities did the United States detonate atomic bombs over?”

“Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Two cities in Japan. The bombs were dropped on August 6th and August 9th. The US wanted to force the Japanese to surrender.”

“Okay, time out,” you started, carelessly tossing the flashcards to the side. “Please tell me again how you're not smart? Because those were perfect answers and you haven't even read through the textbook yet.”

Daryl shrugged again, averting his eyes to the bed. “Ain't smart. Jus' heard the teacher talkin' 'bout it in class. Ain't tha' hard to remember it. 'Sides, history is interestin'. S'the only class I dun' mind attendin'.”

You laughed in disbelief, looking at your boyfriend in wonder. “You manage to find a way to surprise me every day. I thought I knew everything about you, and now I learn something new. You're a history nerd.”

Daryl scoffed incredulously. “Ain't no damn nerd. Jus' 'cause I know some history doesn't mean m'a nerd.”

“Sure,” you started, sending him a playful smile. “So I know a lot about science and I get called a nerd by you, but you know a lot about history and I can't call you a nerd?”

“Damn straight,” Daryl replied, his tone playful. “Yer a nerd. Tha's one of the many reasons why I fell fer ya.”

“I love you, too, Mr I-know-that-Hitler-was-born-on-the-30th-of-April.”

“He was born on the 20th. He shot himself on the 30th, ten days after his birthday.” You smirked, and Daryl instantly knew that he had fallen into your trap. “Oh, fuck ya fer tha'.”

“My point has been proven,” you said with a victorious smile, leaning forward to let your lips hover over Daryl's. “No need to be ashamed of being a nerd. I find it extremely hot.”

Daryl hummed, his lips grazing against yours. “Ya find it hot tha' I know 'bout the world war? Then yer gon' find it really hot when we get to the Cold War.”

“Colour me intrigued,” you whispered, before closing the gap between the two of you.

Daryl's lips moved against yours hungrily. Soon, he gently guided you to lay on your back, hovering over you as his lips trailed down your jaw to your neck. You giggled, leaning your head back to allow him more access.

“You might be really smart in history, Dar, but I'm not. I need to study,” you told him.

Daryl hummed, but his kisses didn't cease. “Ya'll be fine,” he mumbled against your skin. “'Sides, we got a human anatomy exam comin' up soon. I suck at tha'. I need to get some studyin' done fer tha'.”

You laughed lightly, yielding to the desire. Well, studying would just have to wait. You had other, much more fun activities planned for the time being.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[luvnami]

one more, baby | ushiten x fem!reader

ɞ an | i've been thinking of ushiten x reader... i might start a small series for them if i feel like it :3c everything here is timeskip and reader is living with ushijima in poland (for now), so they're video calling tendou so that everyone can get freaky 2gether. sorry if the ending is weird, its 3.30am and i cant think anymore. enjoy! ɞ cw / wc | dom/sub dynamics, creampie, slight degradation, esex, vaguely implied dubcon, fluffy ending, 800+

“guh- ah!”

your broken moans fill the room as ushijima relentlessly slams into your sticky pussy. his breaths are heavy and laboured, punctuated with groans of pleasure. his balls are heavy with cum and it takes everything in him to not fill you with his seed right then and there. he has you in doggy position where your ass bounces off his hips with each thrust, your back arched beautifully beneath him.

“c’mon, pretty thing. let me see your face.”

tendou’s voice comes through the phone speaker. with bleary eyes, you muster what little strength you have left to lift your head off the drool-stained pillow. he strokes his length languidly. even through the screen of your phone, you can still make out the wet shine of precum on the head of his cock. you spy a lazy grin on his face.

“aw, look at her, wakatoshi. so drunk on your dick,” tendou coos.

he likes the view he has of you, eyes half-lidded and spit running down the side of your open mouth. ushijima grunts in reply. he never stops thrusting into you even as you try to wriggle free of the tight grip he has on your hips, fingernails digging half-moons into your skin.

you don’t know how many times you’ve cum tonight. maybe twice on ushijima’s mouth, once on his fingers and another time on his cock. you know tendou wants more, though. he likes pushing you to your limits till you’re crying and wailing for him, “satori, please- ah! no more, mmph! no! too much!”, and trembling so hard he has to hold you down.

“make her cum one more time, wakatoshi, then you can finish,” tendou hums. “the both of you look so good together. i wish i was right there, i’d fuck your throat while wakatoshi filled your pussy.”

you whine. tendou laughs mockingly.

“yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? both of us fucking you from either end? whore.”

ushijima’s eyebrows are furrowed together. he’s held back his orgasm for long enough to the point where he’s certain if you clench just right around him, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from cumming (but tendou wouldn’t like that. the last time he came without permission, the red-head edged ushijima until his voice cracked, and was denied from orgasming for another week).

ushijima leans over your shoulder, his breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“one more, baby. you can do one more, right?” he pants.

each ram of his hips bumps the head of his leaky cock against your favourite spot. your womb practically feels like it’s melting, and your mind is so foggy you barely manage to make a weak noise of affirmation.

ushijima speeds up his pace. you lean your weight on one elbow as your other hand ventures to toy with your swollen clit. you gasp. each circle of your fingers makes electricity shoot down your spine, your nub already overly sensitive from your previous orgasms.

“f-fuck,” you wheeze. “toshi, toshi!”

he kisses your bare shoulder in response. you tilt your head back so that your lips meet his, teeth clacking against each other and tongue a heated mess as you moan into his mouth. you hear tendou let out a groan. his hand quickens, the slick of skin and lotion echoing from your phone.

it hits you before you even realise it. your pussy flutters around ushijima’s cock as you cum for the fifth time, muscles stiffened to the point that your toes curl and your thighs shake. for a moment, your ears pop and you hear everything in a blanketed haze. you make a high-pitched cry that cuts off when ushijima finally, finally gets to fill you up. he muffles his pathetic moans by burying his face in the crook of your neck, effectively pinning you flat to the bed as he empties the last hour’s worth of pent up cum into your warm cunt. he gives you a few shallow thrusts and heaves for air.

tendou’s so close. fuck, he curses. he really wishes he was right there, fucking your face and making you gag and sputter all over him. he squeezes the base of his dick and strokes himself even faster. you look up at the screen dizzily. tendou huffs, a pink tint staining his cheeks as he chases his high.

“satori,” you slur. “ahh-”

you open your mouth and loll out your tongue at the camera. tendou’s eyes go wide. a string of saliva stretches between your upper and lower lip, snapping at the same time tendou cums all over his fist.

“shit- fuck!” his hips buck into the air. “wish this was your mouth. fuck, you’d clean it all up for me, wouldn’t you?”

“uhuh.” you make a show of licking your lips.

tendou lets out a sigh of satisfaction, riding out his high as you sit there, pretty and flushed in that after-sex glow. he thinks about the plane tickets he bought to surprise you and ushijima for your anniversary next month.

"god, i can't wait to see you both again," he groans.

the next time the three of you are in the same room, you cum more than five times. tendou and ushijima make sure of it.

[formulafics]

Hi, love your fics!! ❤️❤️ Could I request a charles x reader? One where she's also a driver (your choice which team) and she's from Poland and their flags just look like 🇵🇱🇲🇨 and it's like a "funny" coincidence to the fans or something, maybe it's a charles and y/n thing to always point out how similar their flags are

★ IF YOU CANT BEAT ‘EM, JOIN ‘EM | CL16

Scenario: time and time again, your flag gets mixed up with your boyfriends’, and vice versa. this time around, something a little more interesting than just a mixed up flag happens.

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader (mclaren driver)

A/N: i’m so sorry this has taken me so long to get to! thank you so much for your patience 🫶🏻 this is actually such a cute idea, i love it. i hope you enjoy the fic! <3 ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST CHARLES FIC ‼️WHO CHEERED?

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, f1, yn_ln, and 1,360,155 others

charles_leclerc good to be back on the podium…even with the flag mishap. i wouldn’t want it to be any flag but @/yn_ln’s.

view all 12,345 comments

yn_ln i could say the same for your flag. congrats on p2 baby you deserve it! 🥰

scuderiaferrari if you can’t beat them join them. right @/yn_ln ?

⤷ yn_ln 👀

⤷ rizzciardo hey so what does this mean lol

landonorris get a room

⤷ yn_ln bet 🤭

leclercnorrisrussel WE CAN BE WORLD CHAMPION I SAID

lovelyleclerc yk its a good day when yn and charles are on the podium together

lovelyleclerc WAIT A MINUTE WTF DO YOU MEAN FERRARI

yn_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, alex_albon, georgerussel63, and 864,562 others

yn_leclerc (accidentally) took his flag, joined his team, and now taking his name. 🤭❤️

thanks lando for taking the pictures 🫶🏻

view all 9,652 comments

charles_leclerc through sickness, health, and mixed flags 😂

⤷ yn_leclerc forever and always baby ❤️

landonorris thank god i don’t have to spend another year with you

⤷ yn_leclerc just bc we aren’t gonna be teammates doesn’t mean we aren’t friends 🤨 you’re not getting rid of me that easily mister. also i gave you photo credits i expect you to be nicer

pierregasly congratulations ❤️ love you guys

maxverstappen1 💙

georgerussel63 congrats guys 💙

carmenmundt so happy for you both! congratulations, mr and mrs. leclerc! ❤️

paularon_ @/arthur_leclerc can be the flower child at the wedding!

lovelyleclerc SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP ARE YOU SO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

ferraricharles BABE WAKE UP YN AND CHARLES ARE ENGAGED

stardustf1 serving parents more than ever with this one

yn_leclerc and scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon, f1, paularon_, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, and 876,542 others

yn_leclerc a wise man once said “if you can’t beat them, join them” and join them i did. 🤭 can’t wait to see what the 2024 season brings!

view all 7,672 comments

charles_leclerc i love you ❤️ can’t wait

⤷ yn_leclerc i love you more

oscarpiastri thank you for the seat

⤷ yn_leclerc your welcome pls take care of lando

⤷ thumbsuplando CRYING I ALREADY MISS YN AND LANDO SO BADLY

scuderiaferrari happy to have you! 🥰

lovelyleclerc everytime i get the notif that you post, i go insane. i just wanted you to know that!

norrisnation i’m gonna miss you in mclaren but im so happy for you 😭🧡

ynsnumberone MOTHER

⤷ rizzciardo it truly isn’t a yn post if there isn’t someone in the comments calling her mother

thank you for reading! all feedback is appreciated! — dae <3

💌 | @renarots @jsjcue @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @treehouse-mouse @minkyungseokie @lokietro @spidersophie @arkhammaid @vellicora @stopeatread @motorsp0rt @leclercvsx @cixrosie @piasstrisblog @vroomvroomverstappen @harrysdimple05 @sadieurlady @fastcarsandshit @kortneej81 @i-love-ptv @pretty-little-bunny382728 @elliegrey2803 @yagirlhayes

[bumbledi]

♡ Olympic Games 2024 ♡

Pairing: time skip! Ushijima Wakatoshi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: once again, you get to see your husband playing at the Olympics and he’s happy to have his two favorite cheerleaders cheering for him.

*In case you feel confused about some things… This is a sequel of “The road to parenthood/The road of parenthood”, you can still understand if you haven’t read the series but I do recommend it!

Note: I can’t believe I haven’t posted in like 10 months… I hope I can do it more often, specially because I have so many ideas in mind.

I hope you enjoy this little slice of life scenario.

I apologize if there are any misspellings 😩

*I might write something about Wakatoshi and (Y/N) actually making a baby during the Olympics… I’ll think about it 🫣

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Mama, where’s papa?” A 5-year-old Megumi asks again while she hugs you and waits to see her dad.

“We’ll see him soon, baby…” you kiss her forehead and fix her hair out of her face “will you cheer for him extra loud?” Megumi’s eyes sparkle with excitement while she nods happily.

“You’re wearing your Ushijima jersey, I bet that’ll make him feel extra motivated” Tendo, who gladly joined you in the opening ceremony, says tickling Megumi’s belly, making her giggle with you.

“Satori-nii!” She giggles trying to push away Tendo’s hand “are Marie and Theo coming?” Megumi brushes her hair out of her face and asks about the twins

“Not today, Gumi… you’ll see them tomorrow, tho!”

“Good!” She high fives Tendo.

You continue waiting for some time to see all of the Japan athletes, along with some other family members and you let Megumi down for time to time so she can play with Shoyo’s and Tobio’s daughter, that they adopted a couple of years ago.

Everyone sees how some other countries parade in the Seine River until they announce Japan coming and Megumi runs to your arms so you can pick her up.

“Where’s papa?”

“Near the center… look for him” you both look for Wakatoshi while you swing our little Japanese flags. “There he is! See?” You point to where Wakatoshi is, hoping Megumi can see him too “do your best, Wakatoshi!!” You scream and send him kisses with your hand.

“Papa! I love you!” Megumi swings her little flag like crazy and screams loudly “you are super cool! Do your best!”

Even from afar, Wakatoshi can spot you for a brief moment and he waves at you.

“I love you, papa!” Megumi keeps screaming while sending kisses to Wakatoshi with her little hand, making you giggle.

The boats follow its course and you stand there and continue watching the opening ceremony

“It was super short, mama” Megumi says with a pout on her face, and you let out a laugh

“I know baby… but we’ll se daddy later tonight, alright?” You say fixing her raincoat’s hood and she nods.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Later that nights, Tendo, Wakatoshi’s dad, Megumi and you arrive at the hotel where you’ll be staying and where you’ll meet Wakatoshi.

“Megumi, baby… come sit down. Papa’s team hasn’t arrived yet”

“But he what if he arrives NOW?” She says jumping all around, making you sigh… She’s not disturbing anyone so you let her be.

“Wanna go get a snack, Gumi-Chan?” Her grandfather asks and she instantly runs to him

“Yes, Oji-Chan!” He picks her up, gives her a warm smile and walk to the snack table with Megumi in his arms. He has let you know multiple times, how grateful he is with you for loving his son and giving their family a granddaughter.

“She’s totally a mini (Y/N), huh?” Tendo jokes and sits next to you.

“Don’t even mention it, she’s only five and she’s such a little rascal”

“Are you two still planning to have another baby like you wanted at the beginning?”

“We’ve talked about it… specially since Megumi can’t stop talking about how she has some friends who have siblings and she love spending time with your twins…”

“But…?”

“But… even though Megumi has adapted amazingly to Poland, I’m scared of having a baby and going through postpartum in another country, without my mom or sister…”

“Understandable…”

“AND Wakatoshi is on his top game right now, I don’t wanna pull him away from that”

“I don’t think you should worry about that… He loves volleyball but I know for sure he loves his family more”

“Thanks Satori…”

“Mama! I got banana chips!” You hear Megumi say and you see her walking back to you while holding hands with her grandpa and waving the bag of chips in the air.

“Is that so?” You chuckle and she skips to you.

“We can share if you want”

“That’s so kind Megumi, thank you”

Cheers and tons of camera flashes can be heard while we eat some banana chips, these make you all turn to that direction, noticing how some volleyball teams are arriving.

As they enter, you see the Japanese team at the end of the line. Once they enter, you finally let Megumi know his father has arrived.

“Megumi-Chan… look ever there!” Megumi follows your finger as you point to the entrance, where Wakatoshi enters the building.

“PAPA!” Her little eyes light up and she starts running towards her dad.

All of the team step away while they see little Megumi run through the crowd all the way to her dad.

“Hello, honey…” he says picking her up and throwing her in the air, making her laugh “how are you, my love?” He kisses her cheeks

“I’m good, papa!” Megumi says between laughs “I missed you!” She hugs him by the neck

“I missed you too” he holds her little hand and kisses it.

“Me and mama cheered so much for you!” Megumi says while opening her sweater to show him her Japan jersey.

“If you keep cheering for me I’m sure I’ll win the best medal” he smiles at her and she hugs him again.

“No hugs for me?” You says walking to your husband and child

“Mama!”

“Hello, handsome…” you say hugging Wakatoshi and Megumi and kissing your husband right after.

“Thanks for cheering for me” Wakatoshi gives you a kind smile

“It’s always my pleasure…”

Megumi hugs you both by the neck and you start walking next to your husband who’s still carrying Megumi and you go greet the rest of the team. For an instant it feels like not a moment has passed since you were in high school and spend time with the monster generation but now you’re all here, some of you with families of your own and some of them playing so far away from Japan.