#gun drill machine

[widmakenametal]

Exploring Advanced Machining Solutions: Hole Drilling, Gun Drills And Horizontal Machining Centers

In the realm of precision engineering, having the right machinery is crucial for delivering high-quality results. Industries such as aerospace, automotive and manufacturing depend heavily on advanced equipment to meet their production needs. Machines like the hole drilling machine, gun drill machine and Horizontal Machining Centers play a pivotal role in ensuring precision, efficiency and cost-effectiveness. Companies like Widma have been at the forefront of providing state-of-the-art solutions to meet the demands of modern manufacturing.

The Importance of a Hole Drilling Machine in Manufacturing

A hole drilling machine is essential for creating precise and clean holes in various materials such as metal, wood and plastic. Whether it’s for creating small, intricate holes or larger, more complex designs, this machine is vital in industries where accuracy is paramount. Drilling machines can range from manual setups to fully automated systems, depending on the scale and requirements of the project.

Advanced hole drilling machines are often equipped with CNC (Computer Numerical Control) technology, which allows for higher precision and automation in the production process. These machines ensure that the depth, angle and diameter of the hole are consistent, reducing the need for rework and ensuring that production deadlines are met without compromising quality.

The Precision of a Gun Drill Machine

For deeper holes that require utmost accuracy, the gun drill machine is the go-to solution. Originally developed for the firearms industry, this machine has since become a critical tool in various sectors that demand deep, straight holes with minimal deviation. The gun drill machines are particularly useful in industries like automotive, where components like engine blocks need deep, precise holes for optimal performance.

What sets the gun drill machine apart is its unique design. It uses a specialised tool with a single cutting edge, which helps reduce friction and heat buildup, allowing for faster drilling and cleaner results. Companies that require deep-hole drilling without sacrificing precision often turn to gun drill machines for their operations.

The Versatility of a Horizontal Machining Center

A Horizontal Machining Center (HMC) is a versatile machine that combines the capabilities of various tools, such as milling, drilling and tapping, into a single platform. What makes the Horizontal Machining Centers so efficient is its ability to work on multiple sides of a workpiece without needing to reposition it. This reduces setup time and enhances productivity, making it a preferred choice for industries that require high volumes of work in shorter cycles.

The horizontal spindle orientation of the Horizontal Machining Center allows for gravity to help clear chips from the workpiece, ensuring smooth operations and better surface finishes. This is especially beneficial for tasks involving large or heavy components where precision and efficiency are critical.

Widma: A Leader in Precision Machining Solutions

When it comes to providing advanced machining solutions, Widma is a trusted name in the industry. Known for its cutting-edge technology and robust machines, the company offers a wide range of equipment, including machines for hole drilling, gun drill machines and Horizontal Machining Centers. Their machines are designed to meet the needs of various industries, ensuring precision, durability and efficiency in every project.

The company stands out for its commitment to innovation, constantly improving its product offerings to meet the evolving demands of modern manufacturing. Whether you need a high-performance gun drill machine or a versatile Horizontal Machining Center, it has the expertise and solutions to drive your production forward.

Conclusion

In today's competitive manufacturing landscape, having access to advanced machining solutions is essential for maintaining efficiency and precision. Machines like the hole drilling machines, gun drill machines and Horizontal Machining Centers are indispensable for various industries, offering the accuracy and reliability needed for complex production processes. With a company like Widma leading the way in innovation, businesses can confidently invest in high-quality equipment that will enhance their operational capabilities and meet their production goals.

[silusvesuius]

n*loth not being able to bag anyone over the (human term) age of 25-30 at most is the only logical and real conclusion to me because it can be just explained away as him wanting to prove and control everything and anyone (Cus he's a man!) but being stuck in that demographic because his unbearable and vile personality is a force that nobody can look past once they've outgrown the possible fear and idolization period of anyone but also n*loth in particular.

[matoitech]

there’s so many fucking cops out today

[dirt-str1der]

Im like giggling and shit thinking about how me and dante are going to be vashwood , finally the four fingers will have me date every member (remembers im the number one vashwood hater) oh no

[gunmemes]

[annureddy]

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[holytriumphnightmare]

synchronized to "the tele".

"Σαν να είναι συνδεδεμένη με το ηλεκτρικό ρεύμα" (About Chionoula, a four-leg dog, Kallithea, Athens, Greece, 2019-2021)

30-5-2024: - "I have my curiosity. What is Little Nellie"? Tiger Tanaka (Tetsurô Tanba)- "Oh, she's a wonderful girl. Very small. Quite fast. Can do anything. Just your type

" James Bond (Sean Connery)

- "A toy helicopter"? Tiger Tanaka (Tetsurô Tanba)- "

No, it's certainly not a toy. You'll see. We've made one or two improvements. 

I'll give you the drill" 'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn)- "This can only be for children. Don't use it, Bond-san. Take my helicopter instead" 

Tiger Tanaka (Tetsurô Tanba)- "Right. Now, pay attention. - Two machine guns, fixed" 

'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn)- "Synchronized to what"? 

James Bond (Sean Connery)- "100 yards. We're using incinerators and high explosives. Two rocket launchers. Forward firing on either side" 

'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn)- "Fine" 

James Bond (Sean Connery)- "Now, these fire heat-seeking air-to-air missiles. Sixty a minute" 

'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn)- "Good" 

James Bond (Sean Connery)- "Flame guns, two of them, firing astern" 'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn) - "What range"? 

James Bond (Sean Connery)- "

Eighty yards. Two smoke ejectors next door to them. Aerial mines. Now, remember. Use them only when directly above target. That's about the lot, I think. You know the rest, don't you"? 'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn)

- "Yes" James Bond (Sean Connery)- "

Cine-camera" 'Q' (Desmond Llewelyn) in "You only live twice" (1967), a film by Lewis Gilbert 

[shakti-12]

Essential Tools and Hardware for Every Project

Whether you are a professional tradesperson or a DIY enthusiast, having the right tools is crucial for the success of any project. At Shakti Tools and Hardware Store, we offer a wide variety of high-quality tools and hardware to help you achieve the best results. In this blog post, we will highlight some essential tools that should be part of your toolkit.

Multimeters

Multimeters are indispensable for anyone working with electrical components They allow you to measure voltage, current, and resistance, making troubleshooting electrical issues easier and more accurate. Our range of multimeters at Shakti .Tools provides reliable and precise measurements for all your electrical needs.

Screws and Washers

Having a variety of screws and washers is essential for securing materials in place. Whether you are working on wood, metal, or plastic, the right type of screw and washer can make a significant difference in the durability and stability of your project. At Shakti Tools, we offer a wide selection of screws and washers to meet different requirements.

Introduction

drill machines

A powerful drill machine is a must-have for drilling holes and driving screws efficiently. Coupled with our comprehensive tool kits, which include everything from hammers to pliers, you will be well-equipped to handle any task. Our drill machines and tool kits are designed to provide maximum performance and convenience.

Cutters and Brushes

Cutters are essential for cutting through various materials such as wires, ropes, and more. Additionally, brushes are versatile tools used for painting, cleaning, and applying coatings. At Shakti Tools, we offer durable and sharp cutters along with a variety of brushes suitable for different applications.

Glue Guns and Soldering Irons

For crafting and repair projects, glue guns and soldering irons are invaluable tools. Glue guns provide strong and quick bonds for various materials, while soldering irons are perfect for precise electronic repairs and installations. Explore our selection of glue guns and soldering irons to find the perfect tools for your projects.

Conclusion

At Shakti Tools and Hardware Store, we are dedicated to providing a wide range of high-quality tools and hardware to ensure the success of your projects. From essential tools like multimeters and drill machines to versatile accessories like screws and brushes, we have everything you need. Visit our website today to explore our extensive product range and start building your perfect toolkit.

By incorporating these elements into your website and content strategy, you can improve your search engine rankings and attract more visitors to your store. Let me know if you need any further assistance!

[widmakenametal]

Innovating Precision with WIDMA: The Future of Machining Tools

In the ever-evolving world of industrial manufacturing, precision and efficiency are paramount. As industries demand higher performance and accuracy, WIDMA stands at the forefront, delivering cutting-edge solutions tailored to meet these needs. This article delves into the innovative offerings of WIDMA, focusing on their hole drilling machines, gun drill machines and horizontal machining centers.

Precision Redefined: Hole Drilling Machines

Hole drilling is a critical process in manufacturing and the accuracy of this operation can significantly impact the overall quality of the final product. WIDMA's hole drilling machines are engineered to provide exceptional precision and reliability. These machines are designed to handle a wide range of materials, from metals to composites, ensuring that every hole is drilled with the utmost accuracy.

are engineered to provide exceptional precision and reliability. These machines are designed to handle a wide range of materials, from metals to composites, ensuring that every hole is drilled with the utmost accuracy.

WIDMA's hole drilling machines are equipped with advanced technology that minimizes downtime and maximizes productivity. Their robust construction and user-friendly interfaces make them ideal for both small-scale and large-scale manufacturing environments. Whether you are in the automotive, aerospace, or construction industry, WIDMA's hole drilling machines offer unparalleled performance.

The Power of Precision: Gun Drill Machines

Gun drilling is a specialized process used to create deep, straight holes with high precision. WIDMA's gun drill machines are renowned for their ability to produce holes with extreme accuracy and smooth finishes. These machines are perfect for applications where precision is crucial, such as in the manufacturing of firearms, medical devices and mold making.

WIDMA's gun drill machines incorporate state-of-the-art technology to ensure consistent performance. Their design focuses on stability and control, allowing operators to achieve precise results even in the most demanding conditions. With WIDMA's gun drill machines, manufacturers can achieve higher productivity and better quality, setting a new standard in the industry.

Efficiency and Versatility: Horizontal Machining Centers

Horizontal machining centers (HMCs) are essential in modern manufacturing for their versatility and efficiency. WIDMA's HMCs are designed to perform multiple machining operations in a single setup, reducing the need for multiple machines and setups. This not only saves time but also improves accuracy and consistency across production runs.

WIDMA's horizontal machining centers are equipped with high-speed spindles, advanced control systems and automated tool changers. These features enhance the machine's capability to handle complex machining tasks with ease. Whether it's milling, drilling, or tapping, WIDMA's HMCs deliver superior performance, making them a valuable asset for any manufacturing facility.

WIDMA: A Legacy of Excellence

WIDMA has established itself as a leader in the machining tools industry through its commitment to innovation, quality and customer satisfaction. With a diverse portfolio of products, WIDMA caters to various sectors, including automotive, aerospace, construction and energy. Their machines are known for their durability, precision and efficiency, making them a preferred choice for manufacturers worldwide.

The company's dedication to research and development ensures that their products remain at the cutting edge of technology. By continuously improving and expanding their product range, WIDMA helps manufacturers stay competitive in a rapidly changing market. Their comprehensive support and service network further enhance the value they provide to their customers.

Conclusion

In conclusion, WIDMA's hole drilling machines, gun drill machines and horizontal machining centers represent the pinnacle of precision and efficiency in industrial manufacturing. With their innovative designs and advanced technology, these machines help manufacturers achieve superior quality and productivity. WIDMA's legacy of excellence and commitment to customer satisfaction make them a trusted partner in the journey towards manufacturing success.

[ltash]

Poked

You had barely been in the SAS for a week, and already, you were causing a stir. At first, people underestimated you. You were smaller than most, a little too pretty for the rough world of special forces. But you had grit. And, more importantly, you had a wicked sense of humour.

You’d always had a sharp tongue and a reckless streak, but messing with Ghost, well, that was a whole different game. The moment you stepped into the SAS, it was clear you weren’t like the others. Sure, you were skilled, maybe even more so than a few of your male counterparts, but it wasn’t your combat abilities that made you stand out.

It was your mouth. More specifically, how you used it to get under Ghost’s skin.

Lieutenant Ghost, the infamous, towering man whose reputation made even the toughest soldiers stay in line. He was cold, distant, and never let anyone get too close. But you couldn’t resist poking the bear. You weren’t afraid of him, in fact, you found his brooding nature kind of amusing.

So, naturally, you started catcalling him.

At first, it was subtle. You weren’t dumb, you knew Ghost wasn’t someone to mess with lightly. But something about the way he carried himself, all silent and brooding, just begged you to poke at him. You were like a kid pulling the tail of a lion, waiting to see if it would roar.

"Looking sharp today, Lieutenant!" you'd call out across the training yard, watching as Ghost’s shoulders tensed under his tactical gear. He’d never acknowledge it, at least not at first, but you always knew he heard.

It began as a harmless joke. You spotted him across the base one day, walking with that signature, menacing swagger, and you couldn’t help yourself.

"Looking good, Lieutenant!" you called out, smirking when he stiffened, stopping mid-stride to look over his shoulder at you. "Who knew you could fill out that uniform so well?"

The other soldiers who heard you quickly turned away, not wanting to get involved, but you just grinned wider. Ghost gave you a look, one that said *don’t even think about it, but you could see the flicker of confusion in his eyes. No one had ever talked to him like that.

That only encouraged you more.

Over the next few days, you found every opportunity to throw playful comments his way. Whenever Ghost passed by, you’d lean against the wall, give him an exaggerated once-over, and whistle. "Hey, Ghost! If you ever get tired of being a killing machine, modeling could be your next gig!"

His reaction was always the same, a deep, rumbling growl under his breath and a piercing glare. But the more you did it, the more you noticed the subtle changes in him. His shoulders would tense before you even said anything, as if he was bracing himself for whatever you’d throw his way.

And while you loved riling him up, there was something else beneath the teasing. You weren’t just messing with him for fun, you were intrigued by him. The way he moved, the quiet power he exuded, the way his presence seemed to fill a room without him even trying. There was something about him that made your heart race in a way you didn’t quite understand.

Then, you got bolder. During drills, you’d deliberately station yourself near him, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you "complimented" him.

"Hey, Ghost, ever think of doing a calendar shoot? You know, something for the ladies, maybe a topless spread for June?”

You swore you saw his hand tighten around his gun, but he never said anything. Not yet.

The others found it funny, at least for a while. Some of the younger recruits would stifle their laughs when you catcalled him, while the veterans gave you the side-eye, clearly wondering if you’d lost your mind. Soap warned you a few times, telling you in that thick Scottish accent, “Ghost’s not the kind of bloke you want to push too far, lass.”

But you? You were fearless. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself. The more you poked, the more you could feel the tension building between you and Ghost. Every snarky comment, every playful whistle, it was like stretching a rubber band tighter and tighter. You were waiting to see when it would snap.

One day, you pushed it a little too far.

Ghost was at the shooting range, going through his drills, when you wandered over. You leaned against the fence, watching him in action. You couldn’t deny how impressive he was, his movements precise, his focus unbreakable. But you weren’t about to let that stop you from having your fun.

“Damn, Ghost, you’re really showing off today,” you called, your voice carrying over the sound of gunfire.

He didn’t acknowledge you, but you saw his jaw tighten beneath the mask. You smirked, pushing off the fence and walking toward him, your steps deliberately slow, knowing he could hear you coming.

When you got close enough, you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “Bet you get all the ladies with that aim.”

This time, he paused, lowering his weapon and turning to face you. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours. For a moment, you felt a flicker of nervousness—but you shoved it down. You weren’t about to back off now.

"You’ve been having fun, haven’t you?" he said, his voice low and gravelly. There was no humor in it, but there was something else. Something darker. Something that made the air around you feel suddenly thick.

"Just a little bit," you replied with a grin, though your heart was pounding harder than you’d like to admit.

Ghost stepped closer, and for the first time, you realized just how much bigger he was compared to you. He towered over you, his broad shoulders casting a shadow. But you refused to back down, even as he closed the distance between you.

"You think it’s cute, don’t you?" he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he leaned down, his face inches from yours. "Messing with me."

Your smirk faltered slightly, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. “Maybe I do.”

He chuckled, low and dangerous, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But there’s only so far you can push before I push back."

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You swallowed, your heart now pounding in your chest. You had been playing with fire, and for the first time, you wondered if maybe you were about to get burned.

But instead of stepping away, you lifted your chin, your voice steady despite the way your pulse raced. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Ghost’s eyes darkened, and before you knew what was happening, he moved even closer, backing you up until you were pressed against the wall of the range. His hands planted themselves on either side of your head, trapping you there. The closeness of his body was overwhelming, his scent, leather, smoke, something undeniably masculine, filling your senses.

“You should be,” he whispered, his voice so low it sent a thrill through your body.

Your breath hitched as his gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a second too long. The tension between you was palpable now, electric, and suddenly your teasing didn’t feel so harmless anymore. It felt dangerous. Intense.

But instead of retreating, you felt a surge of boldness. “Or maybe you’re the one who’s scared.”

His eyes snapped back to yours, and for a split second, something flashed in them, something raw, something primal. And then, before you could say another word, he moved.

Ghost stared at you for a long moment, the tension between you simmering like a live wire. You could feel the weight of his gaze, dark and dangerous, but just when you thought he might do something, close the gap again, say something that would send a shiver down your spine, he did the opposite. He stepped back.

You blinked in surprise as he straightened, his eyes never leaving yours, but something in his expression had shifted. It wasn’t defeat, but it wasn’t victory either. It was calculated. Measured. His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, but close enough to make your stomach flip.

Then, without another word, Ghost turned on his heel and walked away, his broad back retreating, leaving you pressed against the wall, heart still hammering in your chest.

For a second, you thought you’d won, that maybe you’d finally gotten under his skin enough to make him back off. But as you watched him go, that strange, unsettling feeling lingered. Something about the way he left, the way he didn’t retaliate, didn’t push back immediately, left you on edge. He wasn’t done.

No, this wasn’t over.

It came to a head one day during a routine briefing. You were sitting in the back of the room, half-listening to the mission plan, your eyes occasionally drifting over to Ghost, who stood at the front, arms crossed over his chest, silent as ever.

That’s when you went too far.

As Captain Price wrapped up the details, you leaned back in your chair and called out, loud enough for everyone to hear, “So, Ghost, when are you going to take me out to dinner? Or are you afraid I’ll outshine you?”

The room went dead silent. Every pair of eyes snapped to you, then to Ghost, waiting to see what would happen. Price’s eyebrows shot up, but he wisely said nothing, though you could tell he was biting back a smile. Even Soap looked a little pale, as if he was bracing himself for the fallout.

Ghost didn’t react at first. He just stood there, his face hidden behind his mask, completely unreadable. But you noticed the way his fingers twitched, just a little. His entire body seemed to go still, as if he was debating whether to address your latest insult or let it slide like he had with all the others.

For a moment, you thought maybe you’d gotten away with it. Maybe you’d gone too far, but he’d let it go.

Then, he spoke.

"Stay after the briefing," he said, his voice low and calm, but there was something in it, something dark that sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed, your bravado faltering just a bit. But you were committed now. You couldn’t back down in front of everyone. So, you flashed a cocky grin and shrugged. “Sure thing, Lieutenant.”

The briefing wrapped up, and the room emptied out, the others giving you quick glances on their way out, as if they were watching someone about to walk into the lion’s den. Even Soap gave you a sympathetic look before slipping through the door.

And then it was just you and Ghost.

The door clicked shut behind the last soldier, leaving the two of you in the dimly lit room. Ghost hadn’t moved from his spot at the front, his eyes still fixed on you. You could feel the weight of his stare, heavy and unrelenting, as if he was sizing you up, deciding exactly what to do with you.

You stood up slowly, trying to maintain your usual confidence. “So, what’s this about, Ghost? Gonna tell me off for embarrassing you in front of the boys?”

He didn’t say a word. Just stood there, his gaze never leaving yours. The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. You felt your pulse quicken, but you forced yourself to stay calm.

Finally, he moved.

In two strides, he closed the distance between you, towering over you with that imposing frame. He didn’t touch you, but he didn’t have to. His presence alone was enough to make you feel like you were pinned to the spot.

“You’ve been having fun, haven’t you?” he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

You swallowed hard, your bravado crumbling slightly under the intensity of his gaze. But you weren’t about to let him see you back down. “Maybe I have. Didn’t think you minded.”

Ghost tilted his head, studying you. “Is that what you think?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, he took another step closer, backing you up against the wall. His hands planted themselves on either side of you, trapping you in place. The closeness of him was overwhelming, his scent, the sheer heat radiating off his body, the way his eyes bore into yours, dark and unreadable.

“You’ve been running your mouth,” he said quietly, his voice so low it sent a thrill through your body. “And now you’re going to see what happens when you push me too far.”

Your heart raced, but instead of fear, you felt something else. Something hot and electric buzzing just beneath your skin. This was what you had wanted, wasn’t it? To push him, to see how far you could go before he snapped. And now, here you were, cornered by the very man you’d been teasing, his breath warm against your face, his presence swallowing you whole.

You tilted your chin up, your voice steady even though your pulse was thundering in your ears. “What are you gonna do, Lieutenant? Scare me off?”

He chuckled, low and dangerous, and the sound made your stomach flip. “No. I don’t think fear’s what you want from me.”

Your breath hitched as his gloved hand came up, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but the intensity in his eyes was anything but. You could feel the heat rolling off him in waves, the raw power behind his calm demeanor.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, the solidity of his muscles against yours, the firmness of his chest against your soft curves. He leaned in, his forehead nearly touching yours, his breath hot on your skin.

His voice was a low, dangerous murmur, his gaze locking with yours with an intensity that made your pulse race. "What you want," he said, his voice a rough whisper in your ear, "is for me to put you in your place."

He grabbed you by your hairs, a seductive whimper escaping your lips as he tilted your head to expose your throat.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive flesh of your throat, sending a shiver through you. "You think you're so damn cocky," he murmured against your skin. "But you've been asking for this for a long time, haven't you?"

You completely melted in his hands, done and dusted.

Ghost could feel you surrendering to him, the tension leaving your body as you melted against him. A slow, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He liked seeing you like this, all defiant bravado gone, replaced by raw, unguarded need.

He pulled your hair a little tighter, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, pulling your body even closer, making sure you could feel every inch of him pressed against you.

He chuckled softly at the sound you made, his eyes flicking down to your parted lips. God, you looked so perfect like this, all soft and pliant, your body pressed against his, the sound of your ragged breaths filling the air.

He tightened his grip on your hair, tilting your head back further, exposing more of your neck. "You look damn good like this," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your flesh. "All mine."

And then, before you could think, before you could say another word, he closed the gap between you.

His lips crashed against yours, fierce and unrelenting, stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching for his chest, clutching at his shirt as you pulled him closer. The kiss was wild, a mix of frustration and pent-up desire, everything you’d been pushing him toward finally snapping.

Ghost’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you against him, his touch possessive and firm. You moaned into his mouth, the sheer intensity of it all sending a jolt of heat through your entire body. It was overwhelming, the way he kissed you, like he’d been holding back for too long, and now that the dam had broken, there was no going back.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathing hard, your foreheads resting together. His eyes were darker than ever, filled with something raw and primal.

“I warned you,” he whispered, his voice rough, “but you didn’t listen.”

Your heart was still pounding, but a slow smile spread across your lips. “Maybe I just wanted to see what would happen.”

Ghost chuckled again, a low, dangerous sound. “Now you know.”

But as his lips found yours again, slower this time, more deliberate, you realized that this was just the beginning.

[soggyriceee]

stress reliever pt2 - captain price

cw: lowkey aggressive price ngl y’all.. forced breeding, bathroom sex and lowkey:.. for like two seconds istg r@pe

“so, will you be taking me up on drinks tonight rookie?” Gaz smiled, holding the door to the armory open as you both brought back magazines for the new machine guns.

“you never stop trying do you?” you chuckled, shaking your head as the heat crept upon your cheeks.

it had been a full week today since you and Price had that little. moment. things have been weird and while he did ignore you for half the week, he’s been trying to apologize and be around you. however you don’t even let him get close, going so far as to ignore when he talk to you during drills or mission assignments.

everyone’s kinda picked up on it. you told them it was something stupid he said and you were just being petty. you knew that was wrong, but hearing you say that gave the captain hope that you’d talk to him soon.

but he’s noticed youve actually completely blocked him out your life, almost at if he were invisible! flirting with Gaz in the trucks, requesting him as a partner for almost everything. he was truly fed up and had no intent on letting this go any further.

“i do not. so. i’ll see you at Danny’s bar tonight at 8:30.” he said, grabbing the other box in your arms before pushing his way to the front of the crowded room, placing the boxes at the front table. Price noticed how you two walked in together, and late.

“3 minuets late. something happen that took up 3 minuets of our time soldiers?” his voice boomed, as you shuffled through the tall men to take your place in the front. “uh no sir just-“ “gaz was asking her out! look at his face it says it all over.” one of the recruits blurted out, causing an eruption of laughter throughout the room. all except one person of course.

price’s eyes met your cold ones, before you rolled them and shifted your way back out the door. “take 10. i better see guns in everyone’s hands fully loaded once i get back, Gaz.” he spat, slamming his clip board on the desk.

you were already well into the women’s restroom, sitting on the sink as you waited out the meeting. or so you thought.

within a minuet price was busting through the door, nose flared and eyes low. “price you sick fuck get out this is the women’s bathroom!” you exclaimed, jumping at the burly man’s sudden entrance.

“i’m yourw goddam captain have you forgotten that?” “yea and you’re also a fucking dick so now what?” you scoffed, almost laughing at his anger.

you felt no remorse of course, he literally ghosted you for a week. “now if we’re done here can you get out? id like to pee now.”

price didn’t like that.

with swiftness, both your hands were pinned to the sink behind you, Price’s body pushed right against yours. “you think you’re funny? think you’re tough shit hm?” he asked, his voice low, grip on yours wrists tight.

price was more than angry with you. of course he was wrong for how he ignored you. but he’s here now he’s trying to fix it. and you’re going on dates with other guys? it made him wonder..

“you’re going on dates either our baby inside you? hm?” to which he got a chuckle from you. “you ignored me, completely, and expected me to keep it? to not take a pill?” another laugh.

for a moment, he felt like his heart stopped and literally dropped. i mean you weren’t wrong for what you did, but the fact you still did it shook him a bit to his core. but that quickly became anger.

his grip on your wrist became almost enough to snap it in half, earning a yelp from you. he yanked you, turning you so your face was smooshed against the bathroom mirror. one hand wrapped around your waist, undoing your pants and yanking them down. no panties.

“Price get the fuck off me!” you cried out, teyinf to move your hips to a voice his hand but all you did was rub up on his cock, poor thing.

he scoffed, feeling his pants grow tight. you too, felt your pussy begin to throb. just slightly tho.

“no panties? what anyone can fuck you now?” he asked, taking his large, calloused hand and rubbing the curve of your ass, every so gently. “you wanna fuck Gaz? want his cock inside you not mine anymore?” he pouted, eyes wandering to meet yourw in the mirror.

you whimpered, the once confident and mean girl in you disappearing into this weak, submissive one. “answer me.” he spat, landing a sharp smack right on the curve of your ass. you yelped, backing into him and feeling the tent in his pants. “n-no no just you. i promise.”

he rolled his eyes before placing yet another smack to your ass. “liar.”

he kept one hand around your waist, the other huridly yanking his pants off his body. oh how much his cock hurt, restricted in his pants while your wet pussy rubbed against it. it was torture.

it was torture fucking into your stolen panties(by him ofc), moaning your name out every night as he overstimmed his cock. how he reminisced on the feeling of coming inside your warm hole, how you rejected it but he still forced all of it inside you. he could never not cum to that night.

“i told you. quit. i told you i’d take care of you.” he spit onto the head of his cock, spreading it with his free hand as he looked back at you in the mirror. “you’re gonna have my fucking baby. gonna make you mind forever.”

for a moment you felt his head, the next he was almost balls deep inside you. price knows how loud you can get, how sensitive you are. but this time, he was so blinded by anger, he didn’t even care.

so, when you moaned out to him bottoming out inside you, instead of covering your mouth like usual, he slid all the way back before shoving himself right back inside you, gasping at how well your pussy took him in.

“p-price please it.. it hurts.” you cried, tears brimming your eyes as you felt his cock make its way back inside you. but he wasn’t listening. in fact, he was way to busy drooling, literally, watching how your pussy sucked his back up again and again, watching how wet his cock got everytime it came out. “o-oh bunny..” he groaned, his hips picking up speed slowly.

your hands pressed flat against the mirror, watching as your captains head fell back, letting his moans out just as he pleased, no remorse or fear of anyone walking in. “you’re gonna.. gonna be such a good mommy.” he breathed out, his hands moving from your hips to the edge of the sink.

he looked down to you in the mirror, watching as your teary eyes squeezed shut, biting your bottom lip as to not give him the satisfaction that he’s satisfying you. but he saw right through you and laughed, picking up his speed.

“you can try baby i know my cocks making you feel good.. just listen to how good i making you feel.” he smirked, leaning down to your ear and gently tugging it with his teeth. “i know how to make my baby feel good.”

it’s true tho. your pussy was absolutely exposing how good and how much you wanted, no, how much you needed this. “f-fuck Price i hate you.” you choked out, all while tilting your head back to look up at him.

“you hate me baby?” you nodded quickly, whimpering out each thrust he gave. he loved it when you told him you hated him. made coming inside you that much more hot. and you knew that, please.

“tell me how much you hate me.” he panted, letting his hand slip up your body to your throat, holding you there while his cock plunged in and out of you. “i-i hate you and.. and you’re stupid f-face. i never.. wanna see you again.” you spoke, the grip of Prices hand growing tighter as you spoke and as he got closer.

he whimpered out, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt his cock twitch inside you. “tell me you don’t want my cum baby. tell me please.”

despite your mouth being dry from all the harsh breathing you’ve had to do, you swallowed your spit and spoke out. “p-please get off me. i-i don’t want your baby please.”

price panted above you. his eyes rolling back as he felt you begin to pulse around his cock. oh how he loved when you did that, chanting how you didn’t wanna take his cum, but you were milking him so fucking well.

“i-i’m coming baby.. hold still for me.” his hands quickly found your hips, giving a few more deep, fast thrusts as his tip hit right at your gspot . “f-fuck it’s coming baby i-im…” for the first time, Price was actually whimpering out from the pleasure, his legs growing shaky as he used you as stability.

“h-holy.. oh my God..” he panted, his body pressed totally up against you as you bent over the sink painfully. you felt his cock still pulsing inside you, his rapid heartbeat on your back.

for a moment, you wanted to cry. cry because again you let this man fill you with his cum, just to ignore you again. you wanted to cry because you so easily melt in his hands every single time. so you let a tear or two drop, both noticed by the man above you.

“i wont leave you. i… i feel so scared to be honest. i want you, i really want you baby but. i’m scared. i scared myself last time.” he confessed.

he slid out of you, not before pushing back his cum inside you for good measure of course. he caught you in his arms, your weak and wobbly legs unable to hold you up. “but i’m not gonna leave again.. please. let me take care of you. let’s start a family let’s-let’s get fucking married.” he chuckled, pulling your pants up before meeting your gaze.

“marry me. i know it’s wrong but i cant resist you. i need you..” he begged, cupping your face as his eyes locked onto yours…

uhhhh you guys can pick an ending i would love to hear alternative endings!! i find that some ppl really want there to be a different ending that i write so i leave it up to you guys

[simp4konig]

"Can I sit here?" König X Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: 3060

*Part one?

*Slow burn?

*Strangers to Friends (to Lovers?)

Not decidedany of those yet 😶

Edited on 23/8/2023 for some grammar tweaks.

*!!Fanfic inspired by @theeggrollslord's drawing on Twitter!! I really wanted to use their art as the cover for this fanfic, but due to me not having an Twitter (or X 🤮) account, and not knowing whether the original artist consents to people reposting their art, I held back. 😿 If anyone knows whether they are able to give me permission or are cool with it, please let me know!! ☺️

*Author has played MW1 + 2... but not the newest reimagines. 😭 all I remember from the campaign is that Shepherd shot Ghost in the face,but in NO way did he look as fine as he does now ☠️☠️

*Author does NOT speak German... but can use Google Translate !!😊

As is customary with all foreigners, English is not my first language!. Pls do not bully me if my grammar  is bad i will cry 😢

König sat by himself in the cafeteria.

Three sausages, a spoonful of beans, and two eggs alongside a 500ml water bottle were all that consisted of his daily breakfast. Hash browns would be served raw, and the bagels were solid enough to break teeth when bitten into. He didn't even want to consider the sandwiches, as their stale, stinking cheese and slick ham made him gag. A pity that they didn't serve Bratwurst or order authentic — hell, even half-decent — eggs, as the meat in his sausages tasted out of date and the yolks were a dull yellow. The beans weren't even Heinz.

Looking at the cheap slop on his tray made him lose his appetite. At least the water was drinkable, but its taste was peculiar at best.

König sighed.

Every day "eating" the same breakfast, sitting in the same spot, at the same time.

To say that he enjoyed the routine of the barracks would be an overstatement, as he felt oppressed by the monotony: rigorous and thorough briefings pre-missions; intense training three times a day; shooting drills and target practice right after the sun barely opened its eye or into late hours of the evening when it was hard to see. Yet he couldn't complain, and forced himself to appreciate the predictable structure of the barracks.

After all, routine meant safety.

Knowing the details of the misson and the intel required guaranteed a flawless operation. Knowing how exactly to eliminate an opponent in any given situation meant that it made the job even easier. Knowing when to dive for cover to avoid a rain of bullets and the rumbling thunder of machine guns in an active shootout equalled survival.

And knowing that you intimidated everyone on base at least made social interactions easier. All of these extended his life expectancy, yet by how much was anyone's guess.

Being a 6'10 wall of a pure muscle made him the perfect human bulldozer, and paired with his animalistic instincts taking over while on the battlefield, he struck fear in even his own teammates.

Most of the time, König didn't even need to use a gun, as he could snap an enemy's neck faster than they could blink; and, even if they could do that, they wouldn't be able to react fast enough as he manhandled their body like a rag doll and snapped their spine in half over his knee. Quick and easy kills. Other times, frantic stabs in the abdomen, chest or neck finished with a harsh cut of the throat sufficed when sneaking, and allowed him to release any pent of frustration he felt that he wouldn't have been able to relieve through strangulation alone.

Yet, all of the time, seeing König's brutality first-hand made his teammates lose their balance and struggle to collect themselves during the mission, fearing that he would turn to indiscriminately killing anyone that had the misfortune of entering his field of vision. Compared to König's animalistic instincts taking over in an active firefight and causing bloodshed, his allies putting down enemies with a bullet to the head seemed merciful, and even kind.

Unlike friendships, killing people was easy. Keeping good relations with people was difficult enough for König to begin with — with his first hurdle being his social anxiety, and the hurdle of others being getting used to his frightening exterior — and it grew more and more into a challenge as he moved up the ranks, until his position as Colonel made him feared, not respected. People avoided his eyes, and kept conversations to a minimum, bowing their heads in fear, not respect.

After witnessing him maul enemies like a feral animal, König walking down the barracks had people scuttling away like rats in opposite directions, a horde of people dissipating in an instant. Crowded rooms with rowdy laughter suddenly were brought to silence once he made the mistake of entering, with people speaking in hushed whispers or not even speaking at all, opting to escape before their colonel addressed them.

Truth of the matter was, König never wanted to be a colonel. He'd had rather been the one receiving orders than the one making them, as his social anxiety in front of innumerable pairs of expectant eyes put pressure on him in the moment and made it near impossible to let a single word out.

He was not a natural born leader: he knew it, everyone knew it; but he kept his position solely due to his ruthlessness in action and his cold efficiency, as there was no one like him that could come close to imitating his behaviour.

Then, to say that he enjoyed the daily routine of life in the barracks was a stretch to say the least. The thrill of killing on missions and the primal adrenaline that took over his veins and clouded his senses could not be more of a contrast to this boredom and overwhelming isolation on base: of every day sitting in the same damned spot; of every day pretending to eat the same damned food; and, of every damned day being avoided by the other operators to be at a peace he was forced to accept, whether he liked it or not. What a miserable life to live.

The beans on his plate looked menacing, and he had the urge to crush each one individually until they'd stop sneering at him so, as being judged by off-brand beans was running his patience thin. Yet, he wouldn't do that, as everyone else would view him as not only a brute but a mentally unstable lunatic who was now using food scraps as an outlet for his temper; so, he resorted to just picking at the rations instead. His head was in his palm, and his gaze went elsewhere, his pale blue eyes drooping.

So engrossed in absentmindly pushing the beans on his tray with his fork and contemplating what went wrong with him that he did not hear the footsteps walking towards him.

You cleared your throat. "E-excuse me, sir, but can I sit here?"

König looked up, and saw a young recruit hovering over him with a small brown paper bag in their hands. Your face was one he hadn't seen before around here, and you weren't in the standard military uniform, so he assumed that you were perhaps a groundsperson of sorts.

Your ignorance of him was probably the only reason you dared approach him, as any other person would have avoided his table at all costs and gotten whiplash from how quickly they'd turn their head the other way. However, he was glad that he didn't intimidate everyone that encountered him, and was internally thanking you for giving him a chance. Some hope.

Feeling uncomfortable under his scrutinising stare, you tugged the collar of your t-shirt and struggle for words.

"S-sorry," you begun, sheepishly looking down at the floor. A rub of the neck and a shuffling of feet. "It's just... all of the other tables are crowded, and I don't know anyone here well. And yours—" You looked at him, shooting him a lopsided grin, "—yours is empty."

"I understand," he stated, before looking back down at the mush on his tray. "Not a problem."

You gulped, feeling like he was dismissing you, and beginning to regret approaching him. "Are you sure, sir? I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Look at you, he thought, so thoughtful over his feelings. When was the last time anyone bothered to ask him how he felt, or treated him like a human being?

"Ja. I am sure."

Still standing, unsure as to how to interpret the tone of his statement, you shot him a shy smile and sat down at a reasonable distance from the man, beginning to unpack the contents of your bag.

König kept stealing glances of you from under his eyebrows, trying to be discreet. Although he actually was uncomfortable — not used to company in the slightest, especially with someone so polite and courteous — he was oddly drawn to you.

He was thankful that you were oblivious to his status around these parts, and he wanted to leave a decent first impression on you before you finally overheard the true rumours about him, and paid attention to how quiet the cafeteria had gotten now that you two were sat together.

The thing was, he didn't know where to begin.

Communication was not his strong suit. He mused over potential ways of starting a conversation, yet not only had he never been faced with a situation like this, the language barrier was ever so present. Perhaps if he could speak to you in German he'd be able to formulate his thoughts better, yet at the moment it felt like all his knowledge of English seemingly evaporated in an instant.

"You prepared well your breakfast," he stated plainly, angling for any kind of small talk. He internally cringed at the order of those words and how wrong that sentence sounded in his voice, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

An awkward smile. "—W-wow. Thank you, sir!"

König felt his chest tighten, but he didn't know why. 

"My first day on base I had the misfortune of being served breakfast," you continued, "so, from then on I decided right then and there "never again". The food—" you laughed weakly, "—sure is something."

"Du hast recht," agreed König. "I mean... You are right. If I had a dog, I never would feed it this— these... scraps."

You could sense König hungrily devouring your food with his eyes. Although he tried to be subtle, he was not good at going unnoticed. Really, stealing glances of this behemonth in front of you, you kind of pitied the man, especially when the next edible meal would be in precisely 5 hours. With his breakfast beaten and bruised into an unrecognisable pulp, it was definitely too late for him to consume.

Mourning your sandwiches, you silently bid them farewell and took a deep breath:

"Well, sir. I would assume that you're hungry."  You took out the contents from your bag and slid them in front of him, smiling meekly. "You can have my breakfast."

He looked down at your two sandwiches and his eyes visibly widened under his hood; four thick slices of sourdough bread, a generous slather of butter, cheese, rocket lettuce, and thinly sliced pieces of meat, topped with tomatoes, and most likely seasoned with spring onion and pepper.

They looked so appetising, and he felt his mouth salivate, yet he shook his head vehemently. "Nein! Ich sollte das nicht tun, nicht, wenn du dich so sehr bemüht hast!"

You tilted your head in confusion. König mentally facepalmed.

"I-I mean... you tried very hard, and it isn't right of me. They are yours."

You waved a dismissive hand. "Honestly, you need them more than me. Have them."

"Einer wird ausreichen," He shook his head again, and picked up one slowly. "One will be enough."

He reached over to take one and you looked at him expectantly, patiently waiting for him to take a bite and give you his thoughts, yet it hit you. He was wearing his mask. He probably wouldn't eat in front of you.

A cough. "S-sorry. I'll look away while you eat it. Tell me what you think about it."

König practically shoved the entire thing in his mouth the moment your back faced him and and started choking. He saw you turning back to assist, but he raised a weak hand to stop you.

Getting over his coughing fit, he could finally appreciate the freshness and the flavour of the sandwich. It tasted of... nostalgia. Like the sandwiches his Mama would make for him after school to reassure him and to take his mind off the day's events. He felt like a young boy again. When he closed his eyes, for a split-second he imagined he was in the kitchen with his mother chatting energetically, taking his plate and ruffling his hair when he had finished and feeding him another, insisting that he "was a growing boy".

"So köstlich..." he said, and was disappointed to see that the sandwich was gone from his hands, already eaten. "Mein gott, that was perfekt. A sandwich of the Gods."

You turned around and you were beaming so brightly that König swore he would need to shield his eyes from the sight.

"Thank you so much! You don't know how happy that makes me."

You looked at him, your smile unwavering. "Do you know what would make me happier?"

He gave you a blank look. "...No?"

"If you ate the other one," you said, and König's eyes widened comically. "Though, please, be careful. Sandwiches can sure be a choking hazard," you dared tease him, and was actually surprised when he let out a quiet chuckle.

After savouring his second sandwich, the two of you were quiet. Although the tension had evaporated, the silence was deafening, and you felt suffocated by the lack of conversation.

"Uhm... Sir. What is your name?" A hesitant start, your hands folded neatly in your lap. "If it isn't too much of a personal question, of course."

He deliberated for a few moments, before responding with a quiet "König."

"König," you repeated, making sure to pronounce it properly. Your eyes widened in realisation, and you smiled broadly. "That's King, in German, right? That's so funny, because I go by King!"

König froze up like a statue.

"Holy fucking shit, what are the chances?" You rambled, not realising how quiet König had become. "Honestly, what are we doing here? Where are our castles, our riches? Our chariots led by silver horses and our toilets made of 24 carat gold?"

König shrugged stiffly. "Blown up by a grenade, I suppose."

You looked at him, dumbfounded, then burst into laughter. Like, fits of giggles, too many of them and too strong for his unbelievably dry response. Maybe that's why you were laughing so hard.

Either way, König couldn't believe it at first.

It was so... beautiful. Almost angelic in a way, despite you holding yourself up with a palm on the table and unable to contain your pig-like snorts. He could get used to hearing you laugh more often.

And, just like that, he dropped his guard. Slowly, all of his stiffness melted, and he became more of his confident self, this trait only ever coming out when he was actively shooting.

The two of you spent the entire length of breakfast chatting, joking, and telling each other things about each other. Although König insisted that his English wasn't good, you assured him that you understood him just fine — if anything, his confused looks and furrowed eyebrows at idioms you used were adorably endearing, each time earning a sympathetic giggle from you.

At some point — and though he would've been ashamed to admit it — he tuned out the babbling that came out of your mouth as he admired your face, noting all of your features: the colour of your eyes and how they'd crinkle in happiness whenever you smiled; the way your hair flowed and framed your face; taking the time to count all of the freckles on your nose and committing the number to memory.

He'd only catch himself staring when you'd suddenly finish talking. "But what do I know, I'm kind of stupid if you ask me. It's a wonder I passed the tests to qualify for this job in the first place."

You locked eyes with him, interested in hearing what he had to say. "What do you think, König? I bet you know the answer!"

To which he'd quickly clear his throat and respond with, "Ich weiß nicht. I don't know. To be... frank, though that is strange for me to say when I am not "Frank"—" 

You struggled to struggle to contain your laughter, and quickly apologized as soon as you stopped shaking, before attempting to explain to this clueless Austrian man why it was used. König didn't feel demeaned by your explanation, though, as he thought that his blunders would be worth it every time if it meant hearing you laugh so sweetly.

To König's dismay, half an hour flew by in minutes, and it was time to part ways as you began your daily duties.

As the two of you stood up, you initially had realised that König was taller than the average man based off how his knees could barely fit under the table.

You sure as fuck did not expect to see this.

He towered over you, casting a shadow down below. You had to strain your neck to make eye contact with him, and a painful cramp was already forming.

"Ha—ha.... you're pretty, uh... big."

That statement had more than one connotation. Gott sei Dank für diese Maske, he thought. Thank God for this mask, otherwise you would have seen the blush from his neck up to his ears after his mind went to a place he hadn't thought it'd go, especially not with a person he had formally met not even an hour ago.

"Oh well, I can finally put those 4-inch combat boots in the bottom of my closet to good use," you laughed, playfully nudging what meant to be his shoulder but your height difference meant that you instead touched his pec. Not that you minded though.

With your arms behind your back, you shyly averted your gaze. "Well... It was nice to meet you, König."

"You too... King."

Furrowing of brows as you tilted your head. "How do you say it in German? "Auf Wiedersehen"?"

"Ja, das ist es."

"Well then, Auf Wiedersehen, big guy. I'll see you around!"

Big guy... In more ways than one...

God. König had to get a grip.

Yet, with the way he was looking at your backside and fantasizing about your next meeting, he already knew that not even Gott could help him.

...

Note: I HATE this fucking fanfiction WITH MY SOUL 🤬🤬. This fucking thing was NEARLY FINISHED and I was in the process of tweaking yet my phone decided to erase half of my progress !!!! 😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

My phone 📵 and God 🤬 didn't want this fanfiction getting published yet guess what!!! 🖕🖕🖕🖕Fuck you!!!🖕🖕🖕 Ive gotten it out anyways🗣️ fucking shaved a decade off of my life trying to recovervthe opening part of this fic,,

,,,,literally why did I get punished for writing a very mild and unextreme fanfic 😭😭😭😭 like the first half was just in Königs perspective and Ur telling me that i can't do that?????

I mf get fucking crucified like Jesus  on the cross, only this time I sarcificed my sleep and sanity to not be ressurected again,, bitch I would have rather died if I had known tjis would happen ☠️☠️ I could have actually SLEPT?!! 🤬🛌

Never again writing fanfictiosn on my phone, I can't trust this evil technology!!  I'm gonna draft them with PEN and PAPER bitch!!!! Typewriter!!!!!!!! Chalk On Pavement™!!!!!!!!!!!! PERMANENT MARKER ON MY FOREHEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

...

If you read this rant of mine, I hope you have a lovely day/night, beautiful person. <33 (please wash your eyes after reading that,,I needed to release my anger somrjow don't judge me hhhhhhhHHHH—)

[gluion]

i 💙 my artist — choi jiung

choi jiung & reader

wc —1.3k genre & warnings — fluff, established relationship, artist reader & jiung as your no. 1 fan, pet names, peck on the cheek, reader has a peanut allergy, unedited notes — happy (belated) birthday and graduation @sizzlingdino had to let this thing marinate with me as i was juggling thesis among other things (as you are very aware) but i really hope you enjoy this one <3 first artwork is done by Taylor McKimens and Misaki Kawaiand and the second one i couldn't find out :(( if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog and leave feedback! request to be part of the taglist! masterlist

synopsis — stressed out from preparing your exhibit, you receive news that your boyfriend won’t make it in time for its opening—until you spot a mint-haired boy wearing a headband with your name on it.

if there’s one thing you learned all throughout your years doing art, it’s that nothing will ever go according to plan. you’ll come across accidents; your sketch can look awful once you’ve outlined it, the diorama you’ve spent weeks working on can crumble from the lack of super glue, and the 3d model you’ve tried rendering overnight can fail (and you hated that the most).

you’ve learned that your vision can turn out very different in its final form—but you weren’t going to allow that now.

“we still need extension cords!” kevin calls out as he moves a softbox.

as soon as you spot a cable that could topple the light, you rush to kevin and grab hold of the neck. “careful!”

your friend sighs before shooting you an apologetic smile. “sorry, didn’t see that.”

you couldn’t blame him. with only an hour left until the exhibit officially opens, the venue is still a mess. everyone’s scrambling to fix everything; the lights still need to be placed in their designated spots and more screws had to be drilled into walls for paintings. 

“it’s fine. this light is for which?”

“the live portrait section,” kevin answers.

as you help him move the light, you spot ricky on the phone. “yeah. no peanuts, right? we can’t have that since some of us are allergic,” he speaks to the other person on the line before meeting your eyes.

“what’s the status of the catering?” you ask him, only for him to mouth 30 minutes back at you. you sigh before setting the light down at its designated spot.

kevin wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans. “do you know where the extension cords are?”

“uh, the last time i heard, seulgi was able to get a box full of them, but you’d have to ask her. i think most were used for the dioramas.” you pull out your clipboard and go through sections that still need to be fixed; pulling this off in an hour would be a miracle.

“hey, boss,” your attention is called by minghao on the other side of the venue, “does this look okay?” he points at the wall with the screw gun in his hand.

once you approach him, you look through the paintings hung on the wall. “i think so? it looks fine.”

“good, because i might’ve fucked up the measurements.”

you frown at him. “what?”

“no take-backs! you said it’s fine!” before you can smack his arm, he bolts away with the screw gun.

“yah! don’t go running around with that!”

you need everything to go according to plan, especially when all the responsibility is on your shoulders.

your phone rings in your pocket. once you pull it out, the contact name brings a smile to your face. you accept the call and bring it close to your ear. “hey, what’s up?”

“how’s my artist doing?” jiung’s voice on the other line is enough to keep your mind off of the rattling or machines and objects. “wow, it sounds very busy.”

a sigh leaves you. “because it is.” you scratch the back of your neck. “the exhibit is supposed to open in a while and we are delayed in the ingress. there’s already guests outside and the food has yet to arrive.”

“babe, i’m sure all will be okay. just from the sounds alone, i can already tell you guys will be done in time. if anything, you guys shouldn’t even be preparing this exhibit! you’re the artists!” your boyfriend exclaims, causing you to laugh. “see, i got you laughing.” he always knew the right words to say.

you smile before saying, “thanks. i needed that.” you spot ricky coming your way with a frown. “wait a minute, someone needs to talk to me.” you bring the phone away from your ear.

“i have some bad news.”

with stress evident in your friend’s features, your spirits go into a decline. “oh no. what happened?”

“so, i got off the phone with catering, and they told me that most of the food they cooked used peanut oil.” you have to be kidding me. “i asked if they could replace it but they said that if they do it now, it won’t arrive until like two hours later.”

you close your eyes as you try to process the information. “okay, that just means i can’t eat any of the food then. i mean, that’s fine.” you look at ricky who pouts at you.

“i’m sorry. i can get you some food if ever.”

yet, you shake your head. “it’s okay. thank you, though.”

once he takes his leave, you bring the phone back to your ear. “sorry about that. anyway, why’d you call?”

“babe, you know i’d do anything to be at your exhibit,” as he starts off the sentence, you can’t help but feel your heart drop, “but i’m still stuck at the clinic for the wisdom tooth removal. i think the dentist had some long procedure, so i’m only about to get it done. i’m so sorry.”

you know that jiung would never miss out on your exhibit. if anything, he’s always been more excited about it than you ever have, but with the day taking a stressful turn, you hate to admit your disappointment over his absence.

“it’s okay,” you try to reassure your boyfriend. “i’m sure i can tour you around the exhibit another time. think of it as a private tour.”

“okay, i’ll be sure to free up my schedule just for you.”

before you can say anything, he cuts you off. “wait, i have to go. i’m being called to the room. i’ll see you soon, love you!”

“bye, love you.”

the call drops along with your spirits. the only thing that could’ve saved today couldn’t even make it. still, you do your best to force a smile. 

preparations continue as planned, and somehow, the exhibit is finished in time for its opening. your boyfriend seemed to be right about almost anything.

“okay, we have a few minutes to talk with everyone before y/n’s opening remarks. once they’re done, don’t forget that we’ll be called one by one for acknowledgements,” seulgi reminds everyone. after everyone nods at her reminders, they all storm off to meet up with their guests; friends, families, and partners smile at the sight of the other artists.

yet, you were by yourself with no one to go to. 

feeling dejected, you were about to retreat to a corner and practice your speech—until you saw a familiar mint-haired boy in the crowd with a foam cutout of your name on his head. in his hand is a bouquet of flowers, and the sweater he wears has the words, I 💙 MY ARTIST, plastered on the front. and while everything about his get up should make you embarrassed, the swollen grin on his face brings you to smile.

you run to him. “jiung!” with his arms open, he brings you into a hug. “i thought you wouldn’t make it.”

“honestly, i thought i wouldn’t with how long this sweater was taking with the printing,” he admits. “but i did, and i even brought food.” you glance down to see a paper bag filled with takeout food by his feet.

when you look back at him, you can’t help but admire his whole outfit. “i never expected you to be this embarrassing.”

shock casts his features. “i’d literally do anything for you.” as he pecks your cheek, your smile grows. “i would do this any day just for you.”

your heart grows full from his words. “i love you. thank you for this.”

he tucks some hair behind your ear. “i love you, too. i’m always proud of you, and i can’t wait to see everyone be amazed with what you do.”

jiung always knew the right words to say.

(you hope your art can convey your love for him.)

networks taglist: @kflixnet @k-labels @blankjournal @kstrucknet

[hauntingkiki]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do venture waking up from having a nightmare about reader dying and readers like lying right next to them and hears venture crying but reader try’s to comfort venture? Just some angst fluff please :c

OMGGG AWWW, IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS!!

Hellish Night

Venture x Reader

Overwatch

2nd POV

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

venture scrambled into their room, tears poured out of their eyes, rolling down their cheeks and dripping on their clothing, skin and the wooden floor beneath them. “oh my fucking god.” they shakily sobbed, their mind backwards as they immediately forget where everything was located around their room.

their knees gave out from under them, catching themselves on their desk with a sucked in breath. their heart hammered against their chest, the scene from a few hours ago replaying in their mind.

~~

“SLOAN!” you screamed, struggling against the strong hold that was around your waist. you threw your fists into the back of your kidnapper, trying to wiggle out of their hold.

sloan chased after you, stumbling as they tried to keep up with the pace. “Y/N!” they cried, reaching a hand out in your direction.

your kidnapper turned his torso, grabbing his mini gun then firing at sloan, dropping the weapon back to his side as he continued to make his way to the get away helicopter that drowned out the loud mini gun sound with the obnoxious whirling of the propeller.

venture was lucky that all the shots missed, punctuating the ground that was at their feet. venture came to a halt, skidding against the orange dirt as they started at the flying machine in front of them.

your attacker threw you off of his shoulder and onto the metal floor, enemy troops snagging you off the floor, trying to detain you but struggling as you kicked and bit, wiggling around.

venture covered their face with their arm, turning their torso away as the wind around the helicopter pushed them back slightly. when the wind slowly stopped, sloan peeled their arm away and cocked their head up towards the pink and orange sky, wide eyes, horror completely washing over their body as they watched the helicopter zoom off. they faintly noticed you reaching out the open side of the vehicle, getting pulled back by the troops inside.

“SLOAN!”

~~

it kept playing in their mind.

over and over and over again.

a hand shot over their mouth, wide eyes as they gagged, but thankfully swallowed it down. sloan started at the wooden floor beneath them, the wax having a faint reflection of themself.

they felt so stupid.

they could’ve prevented all of this from happening.

sloan should’ve been more cautious about the situation, they could’ve warned winston about their past encounter so he could’ve been kick out of overwatch.

sloan knew what he was capable of. fuck, they’ve seen it first hand! back at illios, talon and some of his troops came into the sight, including mauga.

groaning through gritted teeth, sloan pulled themselves off of the floor, whipping their head around to find the needed supplies they were going to need for this journey.

their eyes landed on their canteen that was hanging on their doorknob. ripping it off of the door, they stormed out of their room and into their kitchen, placing it onto the island before walking off.

they did this for about 15 minutes, going into different rooms and grabbing things that they were going to use.

letting out a breath they didn’t even notice, they stood in front of the island, glancing over all the items that were scattered around the countertop.

a first aid kit; full of gauze, wrapping tape, hydrogen peroxide, alcohol wipes and a lot of other shit sloan didn’t even know were medical stuff.

a canteen with backup water bottles.

a few snacks; crackers, chips, small baggies of fruit and some assorted sweets. anything to give them and you fuel.

a pistol that their grandfather gifted them with boxes of backup ammo.

and their drill.

with backpack in hand, they started to pack, trying to organize everything so it would fit into the pouch the best it could.

just as they finished filling up their canteen, a knock echoed through the room. turning the tap off, they twisted the lid on the metal container, gently placing it on the counter as they walked over to the door.

“angela?” sloan gasped when they opened the door, revealing the medic. their eyes looked around her face, brows knitting together. “what are you doing here?”

angela peeked behind sloan, getting a glimpse of their backpack and their drill. she sighed when they stepped over to the side, blocking her view from inside, even though they were too late. “venture, you can’t go there alone.” she muttered, adjusting her glasses before reaching out and grabbing their calloused hands. “lucio’s getting winston now; we’ll all go with you to save y/n.”

venture turned their head to the side, eyes glued to the ground. “i can’t wait, angela.” they huffed, looking her in the eyes, watching as her face slowly softened at their words. “she needs me. she’s my girlfriend for christ’s sake!” they chuckled faintly at the end, shrugging their shoulders.

the two fell silent, angela letting go of their hands with a nod. “go get her then.” she whispered, nodding in approval. “just…stay safe. and bring her back safely.”

venture started at her with slightly wide eyes, their lips parted at her words. they nodded faintly before nodding eagerly. “i will.” they reassured, running a hand through their chocolate locks. ���when winston gets reported of it, you guys can head straight there.”

angela hummed in agreement, giving them a quick hug before running down the hall to alert the others about the situation at hand.

venture quickly put the backpack on, then their canteen around their body. they grabbed the gun and put it in their waist band before dragging their drill and walking out, making sure to grab a pair of keys with them on the way out.

locking their door, they made their way over to all the hero’s vehicles, speed walking over to their motorcycle. they got their drill adjusted onto the back of their bike before they hopped on, putting the keys into the keyhole and started up the bike. revving the engine a few times, they slowly drove out of their parking spot before accelerating and driving off.

•••

coughs and hacks filled the room, the sound of liquid dripping into the floor faintly made it’s presence. shoes clicked around you as one of the soldiers walked around your hunched over body, all of the soldiers who took you hostage watched with chuckles and smirks as blood slowly started to cover the floor from their torture.

tears pooled into your eyes, your attention glued on the blood and spit mixture that dribbled down your chin and into your legs, rolling down your skin and spreading onto the concrete. you slowly turned your gaze over to mauga, your body shaking as you watched one of the soldiers try to coax him into joining the torture, but thankfully for you, he declined, staying in the shadows with his arms crossed.

“i’m going to ask you again!” a male voice spat, baton in his right hand. he got onto one knee, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head up, making eye contact with your wide, tearful eyes. “WHERE is the ffFUCKING ARTIFACT?!”

you shook your head against his hold, blood and spit rolling down your chin. “i don’t FUCKING KNOW.” you spat, blood spattering onto his mask that was covering his identity.

he let go of your hair and spun the baton in his grasp before swinging, landing a clean hit on your jaw.

you cried out, your head snapping to the right. you scoffed faintly, opening and closing your jaw before you spat out some more blood.

the soldier pushed you over with his boot, making you whimper as you landed on your fresh cuts and bruises. you brought your knees up to your chest, hissing as blood gushed out of your abdomen from one of the many stab wounds you’ve received. he raised his arm over his head, getting ready to hit you before pausing.

everyone froze, turning their attention onto the doorway as faint gun shots echoed throughout before a booming drill sound followed.

then silence.

your heart fluttered in your chest, pushing yourself up from your laying down position. you knew that clunky drill sound from anywhere.

venture walked into the room, blood slightly dripping off their drill and off their coat.

your eyes went wide, shuffling forward as tears started to pool into your eyes again. “VENTURE!” you sobbed, your body violently shaking as you wailed.

“GET EM!” a soldier from behind you called out, the rest of the soldiers (besides the one that’s next to you and mauga) started to shoot at the archeologist.

sloan dived behind a pillar, using the pistol to pick off some of the soldiers, groaning when they remembered they left their bag full of ammo back with their bike. tossing the gun to the side, their hands wrapped around the handles of their excavator before they burrowed under the concrete.

you watched your partner with a twinkle in your eyes, your lips parted slightly with a faint smile.

you were going home.

mauga slowly walked over to the soldier who stood a little ways behind you, clearing his throat to gain the man’s attention. once he had his gaze, he jerked a thumb over towards you. “she, uh…she won’t say anything.” mauga admitted, rubbing his neck as he glanced over to you before turning back to the soldier. “we just need to find someone else to tell us.”

the soldier’s eyes landed on a dagger that mauga was holding out to him. he gently took it from the inked up man, caressing the blade between his fingers, being careful to not cut himself with it. he slowly nodded, getting a comfortable grip on the handle. the soldier inched his way over to you, kneeling behind you and-

your eyes shot open, the coldness of the blade entering your skin before it quickly left. you slowly and shakily looked down, blood oozing out of your skin, soaking into your shirt. you felt the liquid trickle from your chest and your back, seeping into your pants.

breathing quickly became hard to do, making you put all of your energy onto a simple task.

the two men behind you quickly left, the dagger staying behind on the floor a few feet away from you.

sloan had their back towards you. their chest fell and rose rapidly, sweat building up and collecting in the blood that spattered onto their skin; they were covered, almost head to toe.

sloan snapped out of their odd state, turning to you with a grin before it quickly slipped of their lips, fear washing over. “y/n!” they gasped, dropping their drill as they ran over to your laying down frame. they slid on their knees when they got to you, rubbing a bloodied hand through their hair. “no…no, nonononono.” tears collected in their caramel eyes, gently lifting you up and holding you in their arms.

you wheezed, coughing as you felt the blood pool into your lungs, time quickly running out for you as you were drowning by your own blood. your own body was killing you.

slowly, you reached a freed hand towards your partner, sloan meeting your hand halfway as they leaned their head down into your touch, placing their bigger, calloused hand over yours.

tears were flowing out of venture’s eyes, dripping onto your face as they slid down. “i love you, cariño.” they whispered, their shoulders shuttering as they sobbed. “don’t leave me…please.”

you smiled meekly, caressing their cheek with your thumb, the blood on their face and on your fingers smudging into their skin. “i love you too, baby.” you muttered, taking a deep breath before slowly exhaling, your eyes closing for a brief moment. “i…” you sighed, before going quiet, falling limp into sloan’s arms.

•••

sloan let out a gasp, clawing at the bedding that was placed over them as they shot up. their hunched over frame stared at the base board at their feet, their chest rising and falling quickly.

sweat rolled down from their temple, their shirt was drenched in the salty liquid, so they quickly tugged the shirt off, some of the left over sweat sticking to their chest from the shirt, but it seemingly disappeared once the ac kicked on.

their vision was a haze, impossible to see in the dark. they blinked a few times and their vision got adjusted to the darkness. they glanced around the room they were in, their eyes stayed glued to the right side of the room first. a bunch of maps, drawings, rocks and gems, history books and other things littered the side of the room; their side of the room.

slowly they turned their head to the left side, their eyes immediately shot down to the bed that they were in.

there you were. sleeping peacefully, your lips slightly parted as you lightly snored, your hands gripping at the sheets and comforter that coated your body.

sloan immediately broke down at the sight of you, relief quickly washing over them when they realized that it was all a dream, a nightmare more than a dream. they threw their face into their hands, their back pressed against their pillows and the head board.

their hics and weeps were quick to wake you up, your hand rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes as you let out a yawn. “babe?” you yawned, fluttering your eyes open once you were done rubbing them with your knuckle. you let out a gasp, pushing yourself up into a seated position as you leaned over to the person sitting next to you. “sloan?! w-what happened? are you okay?” you panicked as you turned on the small lamp on your nightstand, the soft light casting a gentle glow onto the two of you.

your eyes darted around the backs of their hands, scooting your way in between their legs so you were front of them.

sloan peeled their hands away from their tear stained face, choking on their sobs as they struggled to make eye contact. “i…i had a nightmare..” they admitted, almost embarrassed that they were sobbing like this over a nightmare.

you nodded, showing that you understood, sincerity lingering in your eyes. “okay..” you whispered, your hands rubbing gently along their bare, muscular arms. you would be lying if you said you didn’t blush a little at the sight of their bare chest, a small skull with your favorite flowers in your favorite color on their left side immediately catching your eye. you shook your head, scolding yourself at the thought. you can think like that later, you cursed to yourself. “what happened in the nightmare?” your left hand reached out towards their face, gently cupping their cheek as you gently made them look at you, a worried look twisted at your face.

sloan swallowed thickly, their hand atop of yours. they also linked their other hand into your free one, immediately getting a reassuring squeeze from you. “you were taken by talon…” they started, their eyes flickering between your eyes as you watched them. “and you were killed.” they whispered, you almost didn’t catch it.

you let out a huff, a frown tugging on your lips as you brought sloan into a hug. “oh, you poor thing.” you muttered, rubbing a hand in circles along their bare back as your other hand got lost in their thick curls.

sloan dove their face into your chest, gripping at your top as their body shook once again, sobbing into your pajamas.

you shifted around as you comforted your partner, your legs straddled their hips as you gently shushed them, your chin atop of their head as you gently pressed kisses against them every now and then.

“i don’t want to let go.” they muttered against you, loud enough for you to hear it. they pulled away from your body, looking up at you as your hands cupped their cheeks, thumbs grazing under their eyes.

“you don’t have to.” you whispered, kissing their forehead. “i’m not going anywhere.”

sloan sniffled, nodding their head against your hands as they leaned into your right, kissing your palm. “i love you.” they whispered, hands snaking down to your waist as they pulled you closer. “so much.”

smiling, you bright them into a kiss, their lips chapped from the cold air that was being blasted into the apartment. “i love you too.” you muttered against their lips, pulling them into another hug.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

oh…my…god…

that took so long to write holy😭 but totally worth it! (if you couldn’t tell, they’re my favorite character to write) i hope you enjoyed!