#if i were talking real people it would be taking away bucks agency to say that tommy is a reason for no buddie currently but...

[katyobsesses]

Sorry, but saying Tommy is the reason Buddie ain’t together is straight up taking Buck’s agency away from him. HE is the reason they aren’t together. Because Tommy is the one he likes and wanna be with rn

I meant in terms of the story, not in terms of the universe.

Yeah in the universe Buck has chosen Tommy to be with rn, he likes him and wants to be with him and I'm enjoying their dynamic (my problems with Lou's acting and some of his dialogue aside), but i do believe that storytelling wise Tommy is very much a stepping stone to Buddie. He's a midgame relationship for Buck to explore his sexuality, and find peace with that side of himself that he's never thought to explore before. and I like Tommy as that stepping stone, he's an interesting character.

Tommy as a character (not a a person in the 9-1-1 universe) is just there as a barrier and a stepping stone towards Buck's endgame, and that's okay, it's good. The show needs a reason for Buck to not go straight to Eddie after realising his sexuality, and I'm enjoying Tommy as that reason. but his character very much is a plot device.

It would be boring if Buck had just realised he was bi and launched straight into a relationship with Eddie, and that's not even discussing the Eddie side of things. (i.e. his catholic guilt being the reason he isn't going to buck... or even realising/accepting his sexuality)

I watch shows from a very analytical view point, I have a media studies degree and it's hard to switch off and honestly i don't want to. I like how i watch the shows i'm interested in. I like trying to figure out where the puzzle pieces will land, what the show runners are planning and the roles the characters have in the stories and arcs to push them to their conclusion.

Tommy and Buck are fictional characters they're plot devices they aren't real humans. so I can't take their agency away from them when discussing their stories, because they don't have agency, because they are puppets and dolls being played by the showrunners and writers.

[hmslusitania]

13 + 99 for buddie 💖

13. Detective AU + 99. Magical Accidents

So, urban fantasy. That’s what I’m hearing here.

Because, see, Private Detective Eddie Diaz believes in magic but only because he can see it. His clients can tell him about angels and epiphanies (in the literal, traditional, “I saw god and my face and flesh were rent from my bones by holy light and then seared back together” sense), and they can tell him about witches laying curses and monsters that come up from the deep of the Pacific Ocean, but... But Eddie keeps his scepticism up, because, well. Magic didn’t save his unit in Afghanistan and magic doesn’t dispel the worst of his PTSD and it didn’t save his wife.

So, y’know, he’ll track down wayward husbands to siren-staffed bordellos and he’ll find a missing wife by tracing which of her jewellery she traded at the goblin market for the ability to disappear. He believes in magic, but there’s no such thing as Magic.

The woman who comes into his office looking for her missing kid brother is possibly the most normal client he’s had to date since he set up his practice.

The kid brother’s name is Evan, easily identified by the angel’s kiss over his left eye because he was born from a wish and a prayer to be a saviour and it...well. It hadn’t gone correctly. And Maddie tells him that when Evan found out about this, found out he was barely even a person, let alone a beloved brother or cherished son, he’d taken the news badly and he’d run away to LA.

The problem is, well, Maddie can talk to ghosts, and for a very brief -- but alarming for how ephemeral it was -- moment she spoke to her brother’s ghost when her plane was landing in LA. She hasn’t been able to contact him since, and, well, he’s her kid brother, so please, Mr Diaz, anything you can do to find him.

And, see, Eddie doesn’t believe in Magic to such a extent he doesn’t realise that’s what he is. He doesn’t realise that most people can’t find the goblin market unless they have something to trade, and he doesn’t realise that most people who end up at the siren-staffed bordellos are there because they were lured, and he doesn’t realise that the seamonsters that come out of the Pacific aren’t usually amenable to conversation and usually just, like, eat whichever sorry bastard wanders into range. Most people become the bones the monsters cough up, rather than being the person to convince the monsters to cough up a skull for ID.

And so Eddie sets about trying to track down the kid with the angel’s kiss over his eye. And the seamonsters don’t have any fresh bones to share with him. The shopkeepers at the goblin market can get him a good deal on his own angel’s kiss if he wants it, cost of your hair and eye colour and all your memories before you were five? but they don’t know about the kid. The sirens have nothing to offer except an invitation to stay, which he turns down (he doesn’t realise the fact he can turn this down is unusual, to say the least).

He isn’t expecting his first real lead to come from his abuela’s neighbour. But all the old women on his abuela’s street have been hearing rumours about the ghost boy who isn’t really a ghost and may not really even be a boy, ever since November 1st, and that matches up with Maddie’s description of the ghost she’d so briefly seen.

Eddie eventually finds Evan Buckley. He recognises him from the angel’s kiss over his brow, but discovers on first sight that, perhaps, he’d taken Maddie a bit too literally when she described him as her “kid brother” because he’s nearly thirty.

And he’s stuck in a liminal space because after he found out about the nature of his...creation...he’d attempted to find a witch who could make him real, make him a proper, living person with a soul and everything. They’d attempted the spell on the night of November 1st, All Soul’s eve, the Day of the Dead, because, obviously, when else would you find a spare soul?

But, it had gone wrong and now Evan -- Buck -- is stuck. And Eddie is the first person to be able to see him.

It doesn’t feel like fate or providence when Eddie takes him by the hand and drags him back into the land of the living -- a real man, his own soul and all -- it feels like Magic.

Because it is.

And maybe, a while later when Buck’s decided to stay in LA, and Maddie has too, and the three of them have gone into business together to expand Eddie’s detective agency, well. Maybe Buck has pointed out a few too many times the magic Eddie does without thinking about it, and maybe Eddie starts to believe that there’s a chance he’s just as magical as the man with the angel’s kiss.

And maybe, after Buck kisses him that first time, and all the times after, Eddie starts to believe in Magic.

There are Other Mashups

[winetae]

wall to wall (m.) 02

— female reader x hoseok

— smut, porn star!au

— sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification, role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, anal sex, sex toys, face fucking, double penetration, erotic massages, humiliation, degradation, porn star type dirty talk, squirting, creampie, lots of cum (and oil!)

— 19.7k 

… 

Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman. 

Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

↳  or, my contribution to the lights, camera, action! collab : )

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

author’s note | part 2 is finally here ! ! ty to jordan who has encouraged me literally every step of the way and to ella for supplying a never ending amount of hoseok gifs and pics when i most needed it :’) i’m sorry again for cutting the chapter into two parts but seeing as this entire chunk only amounted to 1/3 of my outline for part two it’s safe to say i would have never finished this fic otherwise ;;

(!) if you are particularly sensitive to humiliation/ degradation then maybe u should skip the smut scene bc jdjffjkfkddkd cries in tears of heaux 

SCENE 03 - PULP FRICTION. TAKE 02. ROLL A.

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It’s hard to guess how a project will be perceived by the general public. Sometimes a xxx feature film everyone believed would do well sells less than expected, and with online pirating becoming such a rampant and common occurrence, it’s harder to measure the impact of your work. Views and numbers are no longer a reliable indicator of one’s popularity. You’re lucky that you’re signed under such a big talent agency because at least you’re guaranteed regular paychecks, regardless of how well you perform. But to survive in this industry you’re conscious that you need more than that.

According to Seokjin and his expert advice, fans are the ones who will keep an adult entertainer’s career afloat for longer than the average six months. It doesn’t matter how good-looking or well endowed an actor is; if fans aren’t interested and invested, there’s a slim chance that they’ll pay money from their own pockets to view your work. And in order to build such a strong and dedicated fan base, you need one of several things: regular content and an active social media account.

It’s a careful line to tread; not enough online interaction can make people lose interest, but so can overexposure.

You’re patiently waiting for what Seokjin baptizes “The Big Breakthrough” - the decisive project that will propel you into superstardom. None of your videos have ever garnered that type of traction, however, and you’ve been stuck repeating the same old recycled scenarios of plumbers/pizza delivery boys coming over to get the fuck of their life.

When your latest video is uploaded online, you do your best to steer clear from social media. As much as you want to see what people think of your performance, it’s too nerve-wracking to deal with on an empty stomach. You know that if you begin scrolling through the comments, you’ll spend all day glued to your phone, constantly refreshing the page to check for feedback.

And while you aren’t the type of person who lets negative opinions affect your morale, you are nonetheless worried that your time in the industry is about to run out. Lately, the thought lingers ominously in the corners of your mind.

In times like these, exercise is one of the best distractions, second to maybe sex.

Pia, the yoga instructor, walks you through several routines, bending your body this way and that, until your head feels pleasantly blank, devoid for once of any stress and self-doubt. The hour long hot yoga class puts your overthinking mind to rest. In that moment even the notion of time ceases to matter.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

The instructor turns off his meditation playlist while the room empties out, soft chattering replacing the chirping of birds and the sound of cascading water. Slowly, mind still fuzzy around the edges, you gather your belongings and head straight to the vending machine to get a much needed dose of caffeine.

As you dig around the contents of your purse for spare change, someone comes up from behind and taps your shoulder.

“Eep!” You catch your bag before it can slip from your grasp. “What—”

“Shit, sorry!”

When you spin around, hands clutched protectively over your chest to keep your heart rate steady, you don’t expect to come face to face with Hoseok, of all people.

He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to give you a scare. I, um, recognized you from afar and thought I’d come say hi.”

Now that the initial shock has faded, you’re free to admire the sight in front of you without any distractions.

As handsome as Hoseok looks under the bright studio lights with his hair styled and make-up applied, there’s something undeniably appealing about the way he appears now - with his hair mussed up and sweatpants riding dangerously low on his hips. While you normally prefer someone who puts more effort into their appearance, there’s something attractive and unpretentious about his casual demeanor that intrigues you.

Heat surges to the apple of your cheeks when you realize that you’re being too blatant with your ogling. Your eyes settle on his face - a safe zone, one that won’t cause any misunderstandings. It’s a nice sight to look at. Hoseok’s face is pretty, the absence of powder and contour not taking away from his handsomeness in the least. His skin glows in a way that can only be achieved post-workout or after an intense orgasm.

This train of thought brings you down a slippery slope. All too soon, your mind supplies images of his long cock filling you up over and over and over again, his lips whispering praise and filth in the same breath. Your gaze flits to his mouth as you recall how red and swollen they’d been after kissing you senseless, how sticky and wet they’d felt against your own, the taste of your own succulence bleeding into your mouth as your breaths intermingled.

“You’re - yes.” You clear your throat, embarrassed by the way you’d quickly let your thoughts spiral out of control. “It’s fine, you just - caught me off guard. How’ve you been?”

Since you last dicked me down, goes unsaid.

“Just finished teaching a class a few minutes ago. I’ve got a 30 minute break before the next one starts.” He checks his watch. “Well, eleven minutes now.”

“You teach here?” You raise your brows, taken aback by his revelation.  

Not that it isn’t uncommon for adult entertainers to work two jobs - or more. You’ve run into a variety of cases since joining the industry. Some do porn on the side, as a hobby or as a way to make a quick buck. They quit the moment porn becomes tedious or when they’ve made enough money to pay back their loans. For you, however, it’s not like that. What started off as amateur cam work has now become your whole life. You can’t imagine doing anything else, even if it means going against your family members’ wishes. They could go suck on a rancid cock, for all you cared.

“Yep, sure do. I teach the morning Pilates class on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Funny how I’ve never run into you before, huh?”

He takes a few coins out of his left pocket and inserts them into the vending machine. “Here, get whatever you want.”

“You don’t—”

“My treat.”

You want to argue but Hoseok’s too beguiling for his own good. It doesn’t take much for you to be won over; Hoseok’s smile widens and you’re a goner.

It’s that easy.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’ve seen each other naked before or if the earlier yoga session has successfully weakened your defenses, but you’re not as wary as you usually would be around people you don’t know well. Distrust runs in your veins yet something about Hoseok has you lowering your guard.  

Based on your observations, there’s nothing calculated behind his gestures and mannerisms. The blinding grin, the jokes, the way people easily get pulled into his magnetic field - it’s not a facade or an act or a fluke. It’s just the way he is.

Hoseok leans against the vending machine and watches you press in the numbers for your order. From the corner of your eye, you see him studying your profile with a degree of intensity that makes you self-conscious. You swallow down the urge to fidget.

And it’s - silly. He’s seen you bare and at your most exposed, has kissed and touched the entirety of your body from head to toe, but this quiet moment feels strangely intimate, more so than when he’d slid his cock inside of you for the first time. Perhaps it’s due to the absence of cameras and prying eyes or the knowledge that right now you’re both real people, stripped of your porn star persona exterior.

Your eyes meet.

There’s nothing predatory or hungry about his gaze. The passion and the love he’d expressed so naturally during your filmed scenes are no longer detectable. Right now he’s Jung Hoseok, not a character with a role to play. This is all him - the dark circles, the relaxed smile, the slight slouch in his shoulders.

“About—” He clears his throat. “About the other day. The guy that was with you...”

You know without needing clarification who and what he’s talking about. You run your tongue across your row of teeth, wiping away the cheap coffee’s aftertaste, and nod for him to continue.

“He give you a hard time?” Hoseok’s eyes don’t stray from yours. He looks concerned. Serious. “Afterwards I - I regretted leaving so soon. I didn’t want to - I wasn’t sure. But, regardless, I should have made sure you were okay before leaving you alone with him.”

“Oh.”

Realization sinks in. Your eyes widen and you splutter, flustered. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. Jimin - he’s my boyfriend.”

It’s hard to appreciate the concern when all you feel is shocked that someone could misinterpret your relationship for a perverted staff member preying on an unsuspecting porn actress. Although it’s unfortunately common practice in the industry, it’s so far removed from what you share with Jimin that you’re at a loss for words.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Hoseok immediately rubs his face in embarrassment. “I thought - sorry. I’m a dumbass. Ignore me.”

“It’s -”  You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

An awkward silence ensues.

You occupy the void by sipping on the bitter vending machine coffee, your eyes glued to your toenails peeking out the top of your sandals. Any other time, you’d fret over the chipping nail polish and rush to schedule an appointment at the nail salon, but your thoughts are so jumbled up that you can barely string a coherent sentence together.

Jimin - he isn’t anything like what Hoseok’s implying. Implied. You know this. But the fact that someone could mistake him as such doesn’t sit right with you. You want to defend him but at the same time you don’t know what to say.

“I just,” he sighs, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen it happen before. I’m sorry I assumed the worst. I guess I’m too paranoid for my own good. I hope I didn’t offend you too much. Or him.”

“No - I’m - I understand.” You give him a small smile to let him know you don’t harbor any ill feelings over the mistake. Hoseok seems so genuinely sorry about the entire situation that it’s impossible to hold it against him.

It’s possible, you think. To misinterpret your relationship with Jimin. The situation back then had been so tense - you remember that better than anyone. Given the context, Hoseok had every right to be mistrustful, especially when no one had bothered to set the record straight.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“There’s no harm done.” You hesitate before continuing, “I’m that way too, you know. I tend to think the worst of people when I probably shouldn’t. I thought - I was worried about you at first, too. When we met. Not because - it wasn’t anything against you personally. I’m just distrustful. But I’m glad - that it was you and not someone else.”

His posture relaxes. “Thank you. I’m glad that it was you, too. And that I was able to prove you wrong about me. With the shit you hear and see happening on set… I don’t blame you for being on your guard.”

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll - oh. I think someone’s calling you.”

Hoseok follows your line of sight to where a small group of his students are huddled behind the glass panel separating the Pilates classroom from the hallway leading down to the changing rooms. They’re all female and look around your age, maybe younger. The one who had been waving her arms wilts under the attention of her teacher, blush high on her cheeks, while her group of friends dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Ah. That’s my cue.” Hoseok sighs in apology, the corner of his lips tugged downwards into a pout. “Sorry. Would’ve loved to get coffee and catch up but alas. Duty calls.”

“Next time.”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll hold you up to that. And it’ll be proper coffee next time! Promise.”

“Okay, deal,” you agree easily. “I’ll buy.”

He looks somewhat offended. “What - no, that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s only fair.” You gesture at the half-empty plastic coffee cup still warm against your palm.

Hoseok opens his mouth to object but a short-haired woman pokes his head out the open door. “Yo, teach! Wasn’t class supposed to start five minutes ago?”

“I’m coming!” Hoseok shouts back, waving his student back inside. “Arrogant brat.”

“Go, go!” You urge, holding yourself from physically pushing him towards the classroom. His group of students look like they’re willing to jump you if you keep hogging his attention.

“We’ll Rock Paper Scissors it!” He says while jogging backwards. “Gotta run but see you around, yeah?”

Your lips pull into an amused smile as you watch him retreat back to his classroom. Through the glass panel, you can see the horde of girls flock around him, each vying for his attention in different ways. You’re especially impressed by how one almost succeeds in drowning Hoseok in her generous cleavage.

The sight of Hoseok dealing with thirsty college girls is so ridiculous you can’t help but giggle. You’re tempted to attend one of his classes just to watch them all trip over each other in an attempt to seduce him. Maybe you could even learn a thing or two.

With that thought in mind, you leave the gym center in high spirits, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle on whatever hurdles the day decides to throw your way. You hum along to a top 40 hit they constantly play on the radio and decide to stop by your favorite restaurant to get take-out before heading home.

As you get into your car, you turn on your phone you’d disregarded all morning and are immediately notified of five missed calls and several unread text messages. More than half are - unsurprisingly - from your agent. You’re tempted to ignore him for an hour or two longer but you know how he gets once his patience runs thin.

“Don’t tell me you were out with Jimmy again,” Seokjin groans once you decide to call him back.

“I was with Hoseok, actually.”

“Hoseok?” Seokjin instantly perks up on the other side of the line. “As in, Jung Hoseok? J-Hope? Your baby daddy? That Hoseok?”

You contemplate ending the call.

Begrudgingly you concur, “Yes. That one.”

“Oooooh. Do tell,” he eggs, the smugness in his tone so thick that you can visualize it.

“It wasn’t - whatever scandalous thought you’re thinking. He works at the gym I go to. What are the chances, right?”

“What are the chances indeed.” Despite the lack of juicy gossip, he sounds pleased. “The news I rang you for earlier involves him.”

“How so?”

“Your video with Hoseok has been the number 1 trending video on Bang Gang’s home page since this morning!” He squeals, enthusiasm making the volume of his voice raise by a notch. “People are eating that romantic insemination stuff for breakfast and lunch. The views on this are insane! We haven’t gotten such a big reaction since the Agust D teacher-student role play and that was ages ago.”

“Wh- Are you serious?!”

Unable to contain the elation that surges through your chest, your face breaks out into a giant grin.

You’re admittedly the first to say that the number of views doesn’t equate to one’s talent or prowess in bed, but you also can’t completely disregard what this particular achievement implies...

While belonging to a reputable agency has its perks, it also entails continuous competition with big names. Your coworkers are also your competitors. Every month the most successful porn stars are rewarded and praised, whilst the ones who rake in the least amount of views are cast aside and are fated to fade into anonymity.

As much as you hate to acknowledge it, you’ve never had the support or interest it takes to contend for 1st place on any popularity polls or rankings of the sort. On Wednesdays, it so happens that the number one trending video spot is usually occupied by a popular femdom porn star who’s been in the game long enough to have secured a loyal fanbase.

Seokjin understands and empathizes with your excitement more than anybody.

“Yes, I’m serious! I think this is It, you know? Your Big Breakthrough, the moment we’ve been waiting for. You’ve been doing well so far but I think we’ll be able to go mainstream with this,” he chatters on, excitement building with every word. “Director Ryu said he’d personally call you up later to congratulate you, so don’t turn off your phone and ignore your calls, okay? I think he wants to ask you to film in his next movie but he didn’t discuss the details with me. Whatever it is - please say yes. I know the guy is a little pompous old fart but he really has an eye for this sort of thing. Casting you and Hoseok in the same film was the work of God. The chemistry between the two of you is unreal, no wonder people are jacking off to this at 10 am while they eat their cereal.”

You think it’s too early to rejoice in the success of your video considering the majority of the viewers are sleeping or busy at work - but when THE SPERMINATOR retains its number one ranking for the remainder of the week, you know your achievement deserves to be properly celebrated.

True to Seokjin’s word, Director Ryu does end up calling you. He wants to work with you and Hoseok again for a new film - and possibly more.

“A multi-film contract? You want to sign one with me?”

“How could I not? You’re both naturals and work well together. More importantly, the camera loves you. And people are on board with the pairing already! I think it’s a good idea to capitalize on their interest, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t take much more to convince you — not that you need any convincing at this point.

You refuse to be a flash-in-the-pan star. Although you admittedly had your reservations at first, the unexpected success of the last film is all Ryu needs to persuade you.

And - you like Hoseok. It goes without saying that there are far worse people to be partnered up with. Besides, it’s easier to work with co-stars you’ve starred in movies with previously for multiple reasons. Your acting is much more likely to come off as natural if you’re already acquainted with the dick that’s about to split you open - at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

When you mention the possibility of working again with Hoseok, your boyfriend doesn’t seem to share your enthusiasm.

“So it’s not a one time thing?” He’s not looking at you directly, his attention fixed instead on the freshly brewed coffee he nurses in his hands.  

“I mean—” You smile tentatively. “Director Ryu hasn’t said for how long he’ll keep hiring us for his projects. Maybe - maybe he’ll keep the format and hire different actors in the future? He - he didn’t really say. I don’t think he has much of an idea himself. He’s very...peculiar.”

You force out a laugh, but your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere falls flat.

“I see.” Jimin brings the coffee cup to his mouth to hide his grimace.

You don’t need to see his dejected expression to know that he isn’t pleased with this development.

“Do you - is there something wrong with Hoseok?” You hesitate, unsure of how he’ll reply.

Jimin’s never insisted you step down from a project before or expressed his dissatisfaction with any of your ‘artistic choices’, although you always imagined that someday, somewhere down the line, he might. Compared to your past dalliances, Jimin is understanding and empathetic. You don’t expect him to be perfect, however, especially when you yourself are far from that. Everyone must have their own personal limits, right? It’s unfair to ask Jimin to be accepting all the time.

It’s just that...the timing is bad.

You want to take his feelings into consideration, but you’re also aware that this might be your last opportunity to get your name out there once and for all. Your previous works have never tanked, so to speak, but they’d mostly gone by unnoticed. While you’ve managed to make ends meet in the past, such anonymity cannot go on for much longer if you want to remain in this line of work.

Your lipstick wears off as you bite your lower lip. Silence hangs heavy in the air.

Jimin sets down his cup of coffee and averts his gaze.

“No. No, there’s nothing wrong with him.”

You breathe out in relief, only now realizing you’d been holding in your breath as you awaited his answer.  

“It’s a bit difficult,” he admits after a pause. “Watching both of you together... Not because it’s bad! You did really good last time. You always do, but - saying ‘I love you’, that kind of stuff, it’s - I don’t know. It’s not your fault, though! I just need some time to adjust. Next time shouldn’t be as strange - since I know what to expect...”

You blink slowly as your brain registers the confession. His words echo in your ears and a strong feeling of déjà-vu washes over you. He’d said something along those lines before, hadn’t he?

Jimin shrugs like it’s no big deal before continuing, “As for Hoseok... He seems like a good person, I guess. I don’t think he’s the problem. Whether it’s him or another guy...” He sighs. “I think I just need to work this out on my own. It’s not like I can ask you to turn down a job offer because of me, right?”

Guilt makes your stomach turn. He’s right. As much as you want to respect his feelings, you can’t bring yourself to turn down the job for his sake. Does that make you selfish? Does he think less of you for it?

“Alright...” When you reach out to take his hand in yours, his skin is surprisingly cold to the touch. “You’ll tell me if it ever bothers you, okay? Filming this - or anything else. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with what I do...”

You’re not sure what you’ll do if that moment ever comes to pass. Work is your number one priority in life. Many of your relationships haven’t worked out because of that very reason but your past lovers’ dissatisfaction hadn’t been enough to change your mindset. After all, work is what helps put money on the table, not love. You shake your head, as if the action will help you get rid of your stressful thoughts.  

Jimin nods as he interlaces his fingers with yours. On normal days, holding hands together puts your mind at rest. You love the way his hand fits in yours, the different skin tones blending into one.

Right now, his pale hand feels unnaturally cold against your own. It feels like winter itself is embracing you and you repress a shiver.

Maybe as his girlfriend it’s not the right choice to make, but — you can’t falter now. It physically pains you to admit it but Seokjin’s worrying isn’t unfounded. Your career is stagnant, your projects predictable and boring. You’re not bad at your job, but you don’t stand out amidst the sea of pretty girls hoping to make a name for themselves.

There’s no guarantee that Director Ryu’s new project will be as successful as the first. You’re no stranger to false hopes; there’s a chance that Seokjin’s wishful thinking might never amount to anything. Even so, you want to give it a shot. Not trying feels too much like giving up and giving up is not an option you’re willing to consider, not when you’ve already put so much on the line.

You’re not a quitter. Seokjin had warned you from day one that it wouldn’t be easy and you’d taken his lessons and warnings to heart. You’d become an adult entertainer fully aware of the trials and tribulations you’d have to face and had been prepared to make the necessary sacrifices in order to achieve your goals.

But are the risks truly worth it? Looking at Jimin’s dejected expression, you’re not so sure anymore.

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They’ve really gone all out this time, you muse as you cast a cursory glance at your surroundings. A small, electric waterfall fountain sits in the far right corner and crimson colored scented candles are dispersed all around the elaborate massage parlor set-up, dousing the room in a cosy, amber glow. It’s a surprising sight because porn sets are famous for never focusing on the details. Viewers are here for the sex, not the generic backdrop of a rented room or hotel suite.

Director Ryu vehemently protests.

“That’s precisely what sets apart my works from your average pornography film. I want the viewer to be completely immersed in the movie they’re watching. Porn is too constricting and underwhelming a word. What I’m creating is a feast for the eyes, one that leaves a lasting impression after consumption.”

“Ah... Yes.” You try (and fail) to sound impressed.  

“People want to believe the sex is real, even if it’s just for an hour.” He sighs deeply, sounding pained, like explicating such a simple fact isn’t worthy of his time. “They need the escape and it’s our job to make it happen. A few extra candles might not make a colossal difference at first glance. But that’s where you’re wrong! It’s never been about the candles. It’s about the ambiance! The visual experience!”

It’s a pity the new budget doesn’t extend to your wardrobe, you remark internally as your gaze drops to observe the stylists’ pick of the day.

For the upcoming scene, you’ve been instructed to squeeze into a tight, baby pink shirt that stretches obscenely over your bust like something straight out of a frat boy’s wet dream. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for hitting the gym religiously because your clothes—or lack thereof—put everything on display. The cotton material of your shirt is so thin, you’re surprised the stitches haven’t popped out, while the denim bottoms you sport are so tiny that you could hardly qualify them as shorts. Although—you suppose that there isn’t any use debating over semantics. It’s not as if they’ll stay on long enough for it to matter.

The scenario that you’ll be acting out today is pretty straight-forward. You stop by the parlor to cash in a voucher gifted by a generous and thoughtful friend. Hoseok, who plays the role of an erotic masseuse, gives you a deep tissue body massage worthy of a five star review on Yelp.

Director Ryu is extremely proud of the pitch. His spectacles glint as he pushes them up the bridge of his long nose.

“We’re gonna call it My Bare Lady. Haha, get it?” He gloats. “It’ll be different from our last shoot - the both of you aren’t supposed to be acquainted with each other at all. In fact, there won’t be any romance. We’re aiming for something new because as artists, it’s our duty to reinvent ourselves every day. Complacency is the enemy of creativity.”

At the mention of Hoseok, your gaze flits over in his direction.

His brown hair, two shades lighter than the last time you’d run into him, is swept to the side, giving him a professional and tidy appearance. He’s swapped his workout attire for beige scrub pants and a matching shirt. The color compliments the glow of his tan and the cut of the uniform is flattering to his figure. Diretor Ryu’s speech continues despite your wavering focus.

“—visual stimulation. That’s why one shouldn’t underestimate the proper use of props. A believable setting sets the tone for the rest of the scene. If you don’t believe the role you’ve been given, then why should the audience?”

“Mhm,” you nod here and there but you’ve long stopped paying attention to his one-sided speech.

Your eyes linger on Hoseok’s arms and the dimples that appear every time he laughs. You’re not the only one who stares. A small group of admirers flock to him like bees swarming around a rare and exotic flower.

You’d noticed it before but today confirms it; Hoseok’s presence is riveting. It’s not the first time today your gaze has strayed his way. More than once, you find your eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame only to quickly avert your gaze whenever your eyes meet. Each time, the right side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile, the beginning of a question forming on his lips.

It’s embarrassing to be caught red-handed gawking but, in your defense, you aren’t the only one who ogles him—and many of them are far less discreet than you try to be, some gazes curious, others downright lecherous.

It bothers you. What exactly do you and everyone else find so fascinating about his character? He’s good-looking, sure—but you’re no stranger to handsome and pretty co-stars with nicely shaped dicks. You can’t put a finger on what sets him apart from the rest.

The gaffer comes over and momentarily interrupts the flow of Director Ryu’s monologue with a personal inquiry. Thank God. You use the opportunity to slip away, grateful that someone has put an end to your misery. As thankful as you are to the director for the career opportunity, you could do without his long-winded speeches that never seem to end.  

“Hey, Hoseok.”

His smile widens, the corners dimpling the moment he spots you. “Hey! It’s been a while. Who would’ve thought we’d get to work again so soon, huh?”

“I didn’t think our last movie would do so well, honestly.”

Without its success, who knows what kind of movie you’d be participating in right now? Another re-hashed version of ‘BABYSITTER GETS CREAMED’ type scenario, most probably.

“I guess that’s a testament to your acting skills, right?”

You smile back, sheepish but nevertheless pleased. It always feels nice to be complimented, especially on days like today when you’re feeling less confident than usual.

“You changed up your hair.”

“Yeah! I thought I needed a change.” He threads his fingers through his locks self-consciously. “It looks fine, right?”

“It does!” you agree with an enthusiastic nod.

Jimin, who had insisted to be present on set today, hovers on the edge of your periphery. In the back of your mind you know he means well—that his presence is meant to be a source of support and security. On a typical day, you’re relieved that someone you trust is close by in case the situation escalates. While you’ve never had any horrific experiences, there have been the occasional uncomfortable encounters behind the scenes. Thankfully, Seokjin or Jimin have always stepped in before whichever entitled asshat could get too handsy.

But for the first time, his presence doesn’t comfort you the way it usually does.

Your smile becomes stiff.

The last thing you want is for Jimin to misunderstand the situation... Despite his claims of not having any problems with you shooting again with Hoseok, you can’t forget the stony expression on your boyfriend’s face as he had stared your co-star down, his grip around your waist strong and possessive.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok inquires, noticing your change in attitude. Worry creases his brow. He takes a step forward as if to check up on you.

“I’m okay!” You wave your hands around in the air, if only to maintain the distance separating your figures.

Despite your energetic reassurances, Hoseok looks unconvinced. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in concern.

You wrack your head for an acceptable excuse. “Maybe I have pre-performance jitters? It’s nothing serious, though!”

It’s not too far from the truth, either. You feel more nervous than usual... Maybe because you’re aware that today’s shoot will most likely make or break your career. If the results prove to be disappointing, you don’t want to imagine what that means for your future.

You shake your head, refusing to accept any talks of early retirement.

But what other choice will you have, your inner voice argues. If no one is interested in viewing your works, no production company will want to book you for their movies. Even if you’re able to shoot half a dozen films after this failed attempt, the interest and support from viewers and higher-ups will soon dry up.

Hoseok’s features soften.

“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but if my opinion means anything... I think you’re really amazing.” His deep brown eyes reflect sincerity. “I haven’t had this much fun performing with anyone before and it’s not just ‘cos you’re fucking hot.” He laughs to cover up his embarrassment. “Maybe it’s a bit of a reach to compare the two, but porn is a bit like dancing in a way. There’s a choreography to follow, a certain rhythm and mood you have to get into. But the most important part is the chemistry and trust between you and your partner. And you - when I perform with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m acting at all. Not many people have that ability. For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty special.”

“T-thanks,” you stutter in reply, taken aback by his candor. “I appreciate that.”

You’re not the only one caught off-guard by Hoseok’s frankness. He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles to fill up the momentary lapse in conversation. A bashful smile inches its way across his face, but surprisingly he doesn’t break eye contact.

You quickly change subjects, unwilling to acknowledge the slight fluttering in your stomach.

“...So, you dance?”

It’s not the smoothest transition, but Hoseok’s face instantly lights up.

“Yes! I mean,” he pauses and clears his throat. “Not professionally. I minored in dance. But it’s something I definitely enjoy, you know, to blow off some steam. Ah, wait a sec—”

He takes out his phone to show you short video clips of his dancing. He pulls up his instagram account and scrolls through an eclectic mix of mirror selfies showcasing his bold fashion choices, dog pics, and videos of him working out and dancing.

“Here’s a recent one.”

You don’t know much about dance but in spite of your little knowledge in the subject, your eyes stay transfixed on the screen in front of you. “Whoa...”

The way he moves is enthralling, for lack of a better word. You know from experience that his body is flexible and agile, lithe and strong, but seeing it in action like this leaves you speechless, momentarily robbed of coherency. You can’t even describe it. His execution of the choreography is sharp and powerful, yet his body doesn’t look rigid. On the contrary, his movements are surprisingly fluid and he never misses a single beat. You watch in astonishment as he pushes himself off of his knees after bending backwards in one fell swoop.

“Eh? Is it even possible to move your body that way?” Surely if you try to mimic him, you’ll look like a flailing chicken. “That can’t be safe...”

Hoseok laughs at your shocked expression. “It takes a lot of practice. You should come to a workshop one day! My friend teaches beginners. He’d be glad if you could join. The more the merrier, right? You don’t need to know any of the basics... And if you’re worried about people poking fun—don’t. Dancing isn’t a competition or anything.”

“I dunno.” You hand him back his phone after watching the video loop back for a second time. “I think my back would crack if I attempted any of that.”

“I think you would do really well! You’re pretty flexible and I don’t think you need to worry about stamina. Your core muscles are also really well developed. Based on what I’ve seen, you have a good sense of balance and beat awareness, so even if you’ve never danced before, you have the body and disposition for it.”

“Well... I guess I—”

“Hey.” Jimin interrupts, plump lips curved into a polite smile. You try not to let your surprise show; you hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He kisses your cheek and slides his hand into yours, clasping it between his own. “Sorry to interrupt, doll. Seokjin wanted to have a word with you before the shoot.”

“Oh.” You blink, your eyes darting back and forth between Jimin and Hoseok. “Um...if you don’t mind?”

“That’s straight,” Hoseok steps back, shoving his hands down his pockets. He shoots you a tentative smile. “I’ll catch you later.”

You feel bad for ditching him mid-conversation after he’d been so nice, but you know how annoying your agent can get when ignored for too long.

Jimin’s fingers tighten around yours. When you look up, he’s pouting, his lips pursed and brows drawn together.

“Is something on your mind?”

You can see the hesitation flicker across his face. When he finally meets your gaze, his expression is troubled.

“It’s nothing...” He looks away again and the grip he has on your hand loosens.

“Hm.” You swallow down any further inquiries, worried you’ll upset him.

“What was that about, anyway?” he asks casually, trying his best to look uninterested. “You and Hoseok look like you’re getting along well.”

“Yeah.” The memory of your previous conversation makes you smile softly despite yourself. “He’s a nice guy.”

“I can imagine.” Jimin mutters under his breath. Before you have time to question him again, he straightens his spine, his features twisting into an apologetic expression. “Look, I gotta help setting up the cameras. I’ll see you after the shoot.”

“Ah... Alright.” You fight to keep the disappointment of your face. Since you only have a few minutes before filming begins, you’d been hoping to spend it with him.

As if reading your mind, Jimin leans in and kisses you, his plush lips soft and familiar against your own. You expect him to pull away after a few seconds but his left hand slots itself behind your neck, bringing you in closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand angles your head to the side, giving him more access, and he doesn’t waste any time before brushing his tongue against the roof of your mouth.

You respond to the kiss as if on auto-pilot, but your thoughts are all jumbled in your head. Jimin’s always been a good kisser but he’s rarely kissed you quite like this. His style is more of a slow-burn, the kind that slowly creeps up on you and leaves your whole body numb with pleasure. Every press of his lips feels like a silent prayer of worship and each swipe of his tongue tastes like adoration. You like that he takes his time, like you’re not just a quick meal to curb his hunger but a delicacy worthy of being savored.

Right now, this kiss feels unfamiliar. Urgency replaces devotion. Perhaps it’s because he’s short on time, but his touch is hurried and sloppy. He bites your lower lip, hard enough for it to hurt, and licks into your mouth when you mewl out a gasp of surprise.

“I wish I could just mark you up,” he pants against your parted lips. They feel tender when you smack them closed.

“The makeup artist is going to strangle you for messing up my lipstick.” You fake a scowl. You’re not half-wrong, though. Once she sees how swollen they’ve become she’s bound to take out her frustration on the closest available victim. “If you marked me for real, she’d probably kill you. Don’t tempt her.”

He chuckles and pulls back, letting his hands fall to his side. His eyes dart to somewhere behind your shoulder, his smile curving into a smirk.

“You’re right.” He sighs, looking back at you. “But that’s easier said than done. You’re hard to resist... Anyone would agree.”

Something dark clouds his eyes but whatever it is, it’s gone in the next blink.

You laugh, pleased nonetheless by his flattery. “Didn’t you say you had to help set up? You’re going to end up in trouble because of me…”

Jimin snorts but backs up all the same. “Don’t worry about me. Besides, you’re worth getting in trouble for.”

Someone behind you gags dramatically. “Absolutely sickening.”

When you whirl around, your agent shoots you a disgusted glare. “I was wondering what was taking you so long but I should’ve known you two were out here fabricating babies. Have you no shame?”

“I’ll see you after the shoot!” Jimin says quickly, eager to get away from Seokjin and his sharp tongue.

“See you.” You smile sweetly, ignoring Seokjin’s grumbling. You feel a pang of jealousy as you watch him scurry out of sight. If only you could avoid Seokjin’s pre-performance motivational speeches...

“Anyways.” Seokjin looks noticeably less irritated once Jimin is gone. “I wanted to check up on you before filming could begin. How’s your ass doing?”

You don’t bother hiding your grimace. “Squeaky clean and stretched.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He sounds proud. “Don’t make that face. It’s your first anal scene after all. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?”

By ‘be prepared’ he means following a strict diet prior to shooting, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a colonic, stretching out your asshole for a good thirty minutes using a fuck ton of lube, and constantly rehydrating yourself throughout the day to the point where you’d gone to the bathroom more times than you could count on one hand.

You’re never this thorough with prep before having anal but apparently that’s the difference between fucking in the privacy of your own home and on camera.

“There’s a reason why cleanliness is one of the fundamentals of anal sex, especially when shooting porn. It’s a pain...in the ass...but this way, no one sees something they’d rather not see,” had explained Seokjin after giving you a non-exhaustive list of detailed steps to follow. You suppose there’s logic behind his reasoning. Due to the magic of 4k-quality videos, viewers can now easily see everything, down to the sweat droplets dotting your hairline and any makeup-covered skin imperfections, so you don’t want to imagine what they’ll notice once the camera zooms in on your back entrance.

“Eventually you’ll get used to squeezing water out your bum on the regular.” He shrugs. “You’ll also start to avoid certain foods on your own. The dietary restrictions aren’t that bad, all things considered, and your body will thank you for eating more spinach than you’re used to. Greens are good for your health even if they taste like yuck.”

Athough his suggestions are well-intended, you don’t need another 25 minute speech on all the know-hows of filming anal sex. The first time had been more than enough.

“Thanks for the advice!” you interject right as he opens his mouth to continue his counseling. “That reminds me I need to get this butt plug out of my ass before we start shooting.”

Seokjin sighs. “That would be preferable, yes.”

He doesn’t need to know that you’ve taken out the butt plug in the bathroom half an hour ago. Any excuse will do, as long as you’re spared from listening to his passionate discourse on the benefits of high-fibre food diets and his long list of enema tutorial video recommendations.

The fussing, you think, is unnecessary. You’re not worried about the upcoming sex scene, even if it will be the first time someone other than your partner sees you in that position. No, what troubles you is the possibility of the audience growing tired of seeing you onscreen now that they’ve witnessed you take it up the ass. Boredom is the reason why so many of your peers are forced to end their careers prematurely, after all. Why else is Seokjin so adamant about you pacing yourself and not filming everything there is to film right off the bat? You’ve always held off shooting anal, double penetration and the likes, for that very reason. Although you have no qualms with the act itself, you’re worried that you’re now one step closer to retirement.

The thoughts sit on your shoulders like a heavy weight as you get ready for the scene to come. You listen to Director Ryu’s instructions as he describes the scenario’s key points, your character’s motives, and what sex positions you should include before the scene comes to an end.

“The rest is up to you,” he says with an encouraging nod. “I want the words to come from the heart! Let yourself be a vessel, a way for your character to express their innermost desires.”

“Leave it up to us.” Hoseok’s smile radiates confidence.

“I like your enthusiasm!” Director Ryu approves, clapping his hands together. He misses the way his two leading actors exchange exasperated glances over his shoulder. “Good, then we’re all set? Remember where the cameras are positioned, please, or else we’ll have to reshoot to get the right angles.”

“Got it.” You nod, eager to get this show on the road. Between him and Seokjin, your ears are about to fall off from the incessant chattering. Even the camera men are starting to grow restless.

Speaking of... You meet Jimin’s gaze, the sides of your mouth upturning the moment you spot him. As usual, he looks slightly out of place standing between the other crew members, his white, ironed dress shirt neatly tucked into his black pants providing a stark contrast with his co-workers’ unkempt appearance.  

Jimin mirrors your smile and your shoulders immediately relax. A lot of people may not understand why you’d allow your boyfriend on set while you’re fucking someone else, but his presence brings you a strange sense of comfort that’s hard to put into words.

The sound of your name being called pulls you from your line of thought.

“Can you scoot over to the right? Just a little.” Director Ryu orders while glancing at the monitor. “Yes, that’s much better. And can we fix the lighting, please? My shadow’s getting picked up by the camera.”

Now that the start of the shoot is right around the corner, your stomach cramps up with a nervous kind of anticipation. Your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth and even when you swallow, the unpleasant feeling doesn’t go away.

You clasp your hands together in your lap to hide the minute trembling of your fingers. It’s strange, you think. Ever since you started working with Hoseok, you always get too wrapped in your thoughts. Not necessarily in a bad way, at least not all the time, but --

“You all good?” Hoseok asks, low enough that the mics won’t be able to pick up his questioning. “Do you need some water?”

You shake your head. “I’m good, thanks.”

He hesitates but doesn’t push. “I just wanna run this with you one last time. I know we already signed the consent forms but I’d feel better talking with you about the scene directly.”

“Oh.” You remember he’d done something similar last time, too. “Sure.”

“Anal aside, are you okay with the use of degrading names during the scene?” His eyes never leave yours, like he wants you to know how serious he is.

“I’m okay with you calling me a whore.” Your shoulders loosen up. It’s easy to relax when you’re on familiar territory. Working in this industry requires complete transparency. There’s no shame in discussing your kinks just like there’s no shame in admitting the acts you’re not comfortable performing. “As long as I can call you a slut.”

“That’s fine.” His lips quirk up, but not in a mocking or dismissing way. “I don’t really have any hard limits myself, except for what you’ve already seen on paper. Degradation is fine with me. Call my dick tiny all you want, I won’t take it to heart.”

You laugh, forgetting to keep the volume down. “I’ll keep that in mind…”

“So degradation is fine. Is humiliation okay as well? Situational and verbal?”

“I like that.” You bite your lower lip as you remember your encounter with Min Yoongi a month or so ago, how turned on you’d been from his words alone. “I’ll admit I haven’t dabbled too much in BDSM on the porn scene, but I enjoyed what I’ve done so far.”

“That’s good to know.” He raises his brow. “Ever since we received the pitch for today’s movie I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it, uh, more interesting. So to speak. But I didn’t want to take any initiatives if they made you uncomfortable. Oh, also I meant to ask if there was anything you wanted to include in the scene aside from anal sex.”

Somehow you’re not surprised he’s put thought into this. Last time you’d worked with him, he’d been overflowing with suggestions as well. Maybe because the previous filming formats aren’t as flexible, but it’s not often you meet someone so willing to exchange ideas before filming.

The change is more than welcome. For the first time, it feels like your opinion actually matters. The two of you quietly go back and forth discussing different possibilities while the filming crew finish setting up the set the way Director Ryu wants it.

“Alright,” Ryu calls, settling into the director’s chair. Somewhere in the background, the gaffer wipes off his brow. “Everyone ready to rooooollll?”

Hoseok takes a few steps back and reaches for a nearby clipboard.

Miraculously, you note distantly, the swarming of butterflies in your stomach is now gone. Your palms are no longer clammy and cold with perspiration. When you swallow, there’s no lump of nerves stuck in your throat.

Hoseok sends an encouraging smile your way right before Director Ryu yells “ACTION!” and he schools his features into a more polite, appropriate expression.

He doesn’t speak up right away, just walks over to where you’re sitting on the massage table in a leisurely manner. You open your mouth to fill the silence but he beats you to it.

“Welcome to Happy Ending Clinic, where we ensure every client leaves feeling 100% satisfied. We guarantee high quality services personally adapted to suit the needs of our every client,” Hoseok says in lieu of greeting, the lilt in his voice smooth and practiced, like he’s used to repeating this introduction multiple times throughout the day. “My name is J-Hope and today you will be in my care.”

“Nice to meet you.” You’re careful to keep your back ramrod straight, hoping the stiffness in your body will be picked up by the cameras.

The role you’re playing today is more reserved and awkward than the usual unabashed and bold characters you’re used to acting. And while it’s not your first time pretending to be coy and shy for the cameras, such behavior isn’t second nature.

His smile, whilst professional, radiates warmth. You suppose it’s meant to be reassuring.

“I will do my best to make this session unforgettable.”  

His gaze sweeps over the clipboard sitting in his hands.

“Hmmm... ______, is it?” When you nod in affirmation, he continues. “It says here it’s your first time visiting our establishment.”

You’re surprised at how naturally he adapts to the role he’s been assigned to. The words that roll off his tongue sound like his own.

“Yes... Honestly, I - I didn’t think it was necessary, but my friend insisted - I mean, she recommended I visit this place...said it would do me some good.”

You wring your hands in your lap. You’re lucky the character you’re playing today is supposed to be a little shy and rigid. Otherwise, you’re not sure Director Ryu would have let your awkward stuttering slide.

“That’s not a problem.” The lines of Hoseok’s mouth bend into a reassuring smile. “Let’s see... It says you’ve booked an hour-long session?”

“Yep.”

“Then with your permission, I’d like to take fifteen supplementary minutes to find out which massage course is best suited for a novice like you. It’ll be free of charge, of course.”

You nod, eager to get the show on the road. Given your character’s disposition, maybe you should have pretended to mull over the proposal for a few seconds more - if only for appearance’s sake - but you’re tired of all this talking. Impatience gets the best of you.

“Oh! Yes, that sounds fine.”

He pulls out several colorful mock pamphlets and hands them over for you to peruse their contents. You try not to let your astonishment show.

It’s the first time you’ve seen a prop team this devoted to their task. Although the insides of the brochures remain blank, you still can’t believe someone actually took the time to print out fake brochure covers. You appreciate the effort, even if the covers do look like they’ve been made by someone who’s looking to major in ‘graphic design is my passion.’

You hold one up at random and pretend to read through it, hoping that whoever will watch the movie later will ignore the ugly block font that spells out ‘NAUGHTY MASSAGE : FOUR HANDS EDITION.’

“Inside, you’ll find a detailed explanation on the various vegan, cruelty-free products we use. All of our treatments are oil-based and you can choose the scent of your choice. If your skin is particularly sensitive, we have essential oil-infused body butters that work just as effectively and leave the skin silky smooth to the touch. Depending on your skin type, you might be interested in testing—” He takes out several jars all while explaining the different health benefits of ylang ylang essential oil.

Once again, you’re caught off guard by his convincing performance. Even though you’ve been given several pointers by the director before filming, Hoseok is the one who ultimately calls the shots. Inwardly, you wonder how he manages to come up with such original lines on the spot. Despite not being a professional actor, Hoseok’s intuitive choices are beyond your expectations.  

The thoroughness of his explanation makes your head spin. Cruelty-free products? Body butter? You have no way of knowing whether his statements are fabricated for the sake of the vague storyline - but you suppose the credibility of his words doesn’t really matter in the end. It’s the small details he sprinkles here and there that help you immerse in the scene.  

His proficiency in acting makes all of your worries melt away. It’s hard to believe he’s only a rookie, just starting off his career, and not an acting veteran with dozens of movies under his belt.

Not wanting to be entirely overshadowed by your co-star, you furrow your eyebrows, determination set into your features.

“I’m sorry... I’ve never done this before. They all look the same to me.”

“Ah.” Still, Hoseok’s smile stays amiable and professional. “Well, let’s go about it this way - why do you think your friend insisted you visit our establishment?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, your gaze dropping to the floor in order to avert his probing stare. “I - um. I haven’t had - I mean, I guess I’ve been stressed lately. More pent up than usual. I’ve tried exercising and meditating and mas- uh...well everything, honestly. But nothing seems to work. I’m snappy all the time and...frustrated.”

Today, the character you’re playing is a bit more bashful, too timid to voice her desires into spoken words. “It’s all about the tension! The build-up!” Director’s Ryu’s voice echoes in your mind as a reminder.

“I see,” Hoseok nods, taking your comments into consideration. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate the quality of your sleep?”

“A five...” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t wake up during the night, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep.”

“Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

“Pain? No, not really.” You roll your shoulders back, conscious of the way your perky chest juts out, nipples prominent through the cheap fabric. “My neck does feel sore from time to time but I think it’s because I work an office job. They say staying hunched over in front of a computer all day is bad for your health.”

His gaze roams your figure, quietly assessing. “It is.”

“May I?” he asks, taking a tentative step closer. “I think I’ll need to gauge your level of sensitivity for myself. We’ll adjust the intensity of the massage depending on how much pressure you can withstand and how your body reacts to different types of stimuli.”

Your brows lift. “Oh. Sure, why not.”

“Move back a little. A bit more.” You obey his instructions without second thoughts. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Your legs dangle awkwardly over the edge of the massage table. You can probably close them if you wanted to, but you don’t miss an opportunity to expose yourself in front of the cameras. The shorts you’re wearing are more like tiny scraps of denim put together with the help of a few stitches. You’re certain that if someone were to really look, they’d see the outline of your pussy lips.

Hoseok walks around the table to stand behind you. The sensation is somewhat familiar—right away, you’re reminded of the first encounter with Hoseok, the one where he’d wrapped his arms around you and whispered words of love into your ear. You close your eyes and let the images flash by in quick succession. The memories all come rushing in at once—an artist’s lips painting your skin like a brush would canvas, a potter’s agile fingers molding your body from clay, a lyricist’s tongue composing sonnets into your weeping, open cunt. Your body remembers it all.

When he finally touches you, his hands radiate warmth the shadow of his memory does not.

A shudder runs down your spine.

Oblivious to your inner thoughts, Hoseok carefully gathers your hair into a ponytail and moves it out of the way. His mobility no longer restricted, he lets his slender digits travel down the slope of your neck, the pads of his fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders.

“You’re unusually tense here.” Concern colors his voice as he increases the pressure.

Suddenly the discomfort you’re to convey to the audience is no longer feigned. “Ow!”

The wince that mars your face is authentic. You try to wiggle out of his grasp to relieve the sharp ache in your shoulders. Hoseok’s grip is strong, however, and he keeps you exactly where he thinks you ought to be.

“Hmm...”

He massages your arms one by one. The circular movements he traces across your skin are a lot more gentle this time around, and you allow yourself to slowly relax under his touch. He manipulates your body like one would a rag doll, pulling your arm over your head.

“Can you reach behind, towards your neck? How about a little lower? You should feel a stretch here.” He taps at an arm muscle.

“Yeah… I can definitely feel it.”

You suspect that Hoseok’s stunt as a Pilates instructor is what’s helping him sound so experienced and natural.

“Good.” He lets out a pleased hum. “Hold the position for as long as you can.”

His hands reach around your body to squeeze your perky breasts. You gasp at the rather rough way he handles your tits. Perhaps it’s because you’ve been told to forgo a bra, but you’re much more conscious of his every action - from the way his fingers splay out, cupping the fullness of your breasts between them, to the way he kneads your mounds with his entire palm as he gropes you from behind.

“How often do you masturbate?” he asks in an almost offhand manner, his tone is more clinical than casual. The question is crude and direct enough to distract you from the way his fingers encircle your nipples through the cotton fabric of your shirt.

You recall Ryu’s earlier directions: unlike your first movie together, this tryst is not romantic in nature. The scenario that you’re acting out this time doesn’t involve sweet kisses and whispered declarations of love. Feelings aren’t on the table.

You pretend like the bitter taste you swallow down isn’t disappointment.

“Um.” You struggle to remember the initial question. Luckily, your mental buffering comes off as bashful and true to the character you’re playing. “I, uh, I guess masturbate often?”

“But it isn’t enough, is it?”

His question comes off as slightly patronizing. Before you can formulate a suitable answer, Hoseok’s fingers tweak your hardened nipples and your back bows under the pressure. You oscillate between the desire to thrust your chest out in offering, and the pressing need to flee the sharp sensations his skilled hands provoke.

“I - um!” You squirm helplessly as he continues playing with your breasts. “It isn’t!”

“Just as I thought.” He pinches both of your nipples and pulls at them until you cry out in half-pain, half-pleasure. The thin material of your shirt doesn’t dull the ache; if anything, the cotton scratches your skin, rubbing the nubs raw.

Despite your very visible discomfort, Hoseok doesn’t let go. You can only sit there obediently while he has his fun, knowing that if you wiggle too much it’ll only worsen the pain.

“Ah!”

Only then does he release them. You fight against the urge to cover your sore nipples. Your flimsy shirt hadn’t provided any protection against his rough onslaught, none at all.

“You’re quite sensitive,” he observes, giving your breasts one last squeeze.

Finished with his appraisal, he steps away and picks his clipboard up. He makes his way around the massage table, coming back into view, and scribbles something onto the paper with a ballpoint pen. He looks so absorbed in his work that you almost fall for the act.  

You worry your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. Without a bra, your hardened nipples are clearly visible through the thin shirt. They jut out in a distracting way; Hoseok’s eyes drop down for a split-second in appreciation before flickering back to the clipboard in his hands.

“Your body is wound up. It’s tense in places it shouldn’t be.”

“Is that...a bad thing?”

“No. Your case is not abnormal.” He shakes his head and offers you a reassuring smile. “Although... Hm. When was the last time you achieved an an orgasm?”

You look away, mumbling your answer in an embarrassed voice. “Last night.”

More scribbling. He taps the end of the pen against his chin, pretending to be lost in thought.

His eyes glint when he asks, “How many times did you cum?”

It’s not real - none of this is - and yet you can feel warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your chest. It’s a strange sensation, stuck somewhere between humiliation and arousal, and it makes your entire body heat up from the inside out.

“Just - Just once…”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap towards his on command. He looks relaxed, unbothered, like he’s discussing the weather forecast and not your masturbation habits. You want to look away but something in his stare pins you in place.

“You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes! I’m not - I wouldn’t lie.”

“Good.” He smiles pleasantly, nodding to himself. “So. You came once. Did you use your fingers? Or, perhaps, a toy?”

He’s still staring at you, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while you confess your sins. Your thighs clench together and you struggle to focus on the conversation at hand.

“F-fingers.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you imagine Hoseok’s fingers replacing your imaginary ones. They’d fill you up nicely, too. Compared to your own, they’re longer, capable of reaching places yours can’t. All you’d have to do is hook your arms under your knees and keep your legs spread wide open. He doesn’t even need to take your clothes off; he could pull the seam of your shorts and underwear to the side and fuck you just like that. “I only used my fingers.”

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t quite believe you. Somehow, that makes the fire between your legs burn hotter. It’s like - he knows you’re too cockhungry to settle for just fingers. And if a mere stranger can tell how desperate you are to get fucked, what about the rest?

“Interesting.” Hoseok’s eyes darken by the minute. “And do you prefer clitoral stimulation to penetration?”

���I-” You pause and struggle to formulate your response. Your ears feel hot. In fact - your entire face feels like it’s on fire.

The embarrassment you feel doesn’t make sense - you’ve never had any qualms discussing sex. You can talk candidly about any topic for hours on end, from the condom brands you prefer to advice on how to maintain a rash-free pussy, to the point where some people might think you’re over-sharing or being too crass. Discussing intimate topics shouldn’t be a problem.

It’s not even a real dialogue anyway, so why do you -

“Yes?” Hoseok leans forward, interrupting your train of thought. The corner of his mouth is upturned, like he can’t help but be amused by your discomfiture.

“I like, um.” You close your eyes, hoping that it’ll somehow make the admission easier. It doesn’t. The darkness makes you feel even more exposed, like all your secrets are laid bare for him to see. Your voice quivers when you answer. “I - I touch - I mean, sometimes I’ll - my fingers aren’t long enough. So just rubbing the outside is - fine.”

“Ah. You like being stuffed full, I take it?” Hoseok’s vulgar vocabulary makes your eyes snap open in shock. He smirks, not expecting you to answer. “Poor girl.”

You shake your head, your reply dying in your throat. With every word he utters, your thoughts become fuzzy, muddled.

“What did you imagine last night while you were getting off? A stranger fucking your face? Big men taking turns using your cunt? Tell me. In detail, preferably.”

“I don’t see how-” The sharp look in his eyes makes you swallow down any protest. Still. You can’t get your mouth to work correctly and you look back at him helplessly.

“Is there a reason why you can’t tell me?” He tilts his head to the side, the smirk on his face growing, canines flashing. “Oh. I see.”

You flinch, your face impossibly hot.

“Were you thinking of today’s session?” He chuckles, delighted. “That’s quite naughty of you. Although, I can’t blame you, can I? We are known to deliver the best orgasma. It’s only natural to imagine what would happen.”

That’s right, you think. You’d spent all night fantasizing about a faceless, nameless stranger’s hands all over your naked body. How long had it been since you’d felt someone’s touch? Their tongue buried deep in your cunt, fucking you until your thighs trembled? Even your best dildo couldn’t hold a candle to a hot-blooded, throbbing cock.

Hoseok taps the pen against the clipboard, the staccato sound filling the silence.

“One last question.” He makes sure he has your undivided attention before continuing. “No need to look so worried. I won’t ask you what lewd thoughts you get off to, although maybe in future sessions I’ll expect that of you.”

You don’t linger on the implication there - that you’ll undoubtedly come back for seconds - and nod your assent for him to go on.

“Did you cum hard while thinking of getting fucked by me today?”

You inhale sharply, struggling to hold his stare. “I… The sheets were so wet afterwards, I had to change them.”

“I see.” He jots something down on his clipboard but his reaction doesn’t give anything away. Nervously, you pull on a loose string hanging from the hem of your short. “Hm…”

After a few seconds of silence he speaks up again, done with his assessment.

“Well, normally for first timers such as yourself we’d recommend starting with a more soothing body massage. But I think in your case a more thorough massage is needed. It’s not a cause for concern!” He adds quickly, as if to assuage any growing fears. “But in my professional opinion, I think the massage I have in mind for you might be more beneficial than the beginner level massage.”

“Um, what does this massage entail exactly?”

“We call it the full treatment. In other words - it’s a deep tissue penetration massage,” Hoseok explains calmly. “It includes an internal massage. We’ll use a variety of methods but rest assured - all techniques are tried and tested! You’ll be in safe hands.”

You pretend to mull it over.

Hoseok waits for your nod of confirmation before instructing, “There are towels at your disposal.” He motions to the pile of fluffy white towels folded neatly on the bench. “Feel free to use them. While you change into a...less restricting outfit, I’ll go retrieve the rest of the massage equipment. See you in a bit!”

And with that he’s gone. The privacy he grants you is, of course, just an illusion. Even without looking in their direction, you know that the cameras’ lenses are all focused on you, waiting to capture the impending striptease. You’d forgotten about them but Hoseok’s absence reminds you of their presence.

Per Director Ryu’s earlier instructions, you make a show of taking off your clothes. Teasing the camera comes naturally to you thanks to your prior experience as a cam girl; you know exactly which angles are the most flattering and which ones, on the other hand, emphasize your flaws.

Your back arches as you peel off your shirt, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts and the curve of your waist. Not long after do you shimmy out of your shorts, exaggerating the swing of your hips for the audience’s viewing pleasure. You try not to show your surprise when the dampness of your crotch sticks to your folds as you pull them down your legs - you hadn’t expected how much a simple tit massage and few exchanged words would rile you up.

The denim pools around your ankles and when you bend over to retrieve the useless item of clothing, you’re acutely aware of how your wet, waxed pussy peeks out from between your thighs. You stay in position, giving the camera ample time to zoom in, and while the stretch isn’t painful (thanks to your yoga lessons!), it is a rather awkward position to maintain.

Once you straighten up, you take a few seconds to fold up the shirt and itty bitty shorts before setting them aside. Normally, you’d leave your discarded clothing strewn about but you can’t imagine your character behaving in such an uncouth way.

With that thought in mind, you wrap yourself with a short towel. Rather than covering your intimate bits, it’s so short that it emphasizes your nakedness. When you go to sit on the massage table, the towel rides up, leaving you exposed and you have to fold your hands in your lap to preserve a semblance of modesty.

It’s easy to convey nervousness while you wait for Hoseok’s return. While you’ve never attended any drama school, you have watched plenty enough Netflix dramas to know which physical cues are more or less effective - constant fidgeting, shifty eyes, audible gulping. Since it’s your first time putting your knowledge into practice, you’re not certain how convincing your acting is, but hey, isn’t it the effort that counts? You’re not here to audition for the starring role in Hollywood’s next summer blockbuster, after all.

Hoseok knocks twice before entering, stopping your self-depreciation in its tracks. He’s abandoned the earlier clipboard for a large, nondescript, white cardboard box that rattles with every step he takes. It sounds more ominous than it actually is.

If Director Ryu is truly aiming for realism, he wouldn’t make Hoseok carry back the items in a fucking box, you think privately. Who even does that? Although you suppose realism isn’t the be-all end-all, no matter how much the director insists. Sometimes viewers like to be metaphorically edged and endlessly teased, and all this guessing only adds to the build-up, making the climax more than worth it. They could, of course, fast-forward to get to the juicy sex scenes, the crux of the matter, but you’d like to believe all this extra effort is worth it.

You blink curiously back at Hoseok, feigning ignorance.

“Oh good.” He beams in your direction, his eyes drinking in your scantily-clad figure. “Now that you’re more comfortable, please lie down for me.”

He sets the box to the side, opens the lid, and takes out a bottle of oil while you settle down on your stomach and carefully rearrange your towel so that it covers your bum.

“I’ve chosen bergamot essential oil for today’s massage. It’s a nice, citrus-like scent that’s not too overwhelming because it’s been mixed in with sweet almond oil. Its many virtues include, but are not limited to, increasing the body’s energy flow and enhancing feelings of joy and freshness.”

“That sounds lovely.” You sigh dreamily. Getting massaged and getting dicked down in one go? Hell yeah. That one is a no-brainer for sure.

There’s a shadow of a smirk on Hoseok’s face when he rounds on you, like he’s somehow privy to your thoughts. That, or your eagerness is too transparent. You’re betting on the latter.

His voice lowers an octave, the low timber making shivers run down your back.

“Shall we begin?”

He moves your hair to the side, leaving your neck and back exposed. He then pulls down your towel so that it uncovers the expanse of your back and covers more of your bottom half instead.

“Is this alright?” he inquires. As if testing the waters, his fingers trace down the line of your spine, stopping right before your lower back dips into a curve.

You moan your assent. “More than.”

Hoseok takes the bottle of oil and drizzles its contents over your skin like a painter splattering ink onto a blank canvas. He spreads the lubricant all over your back, rubbing your skin in circular motions until you’re coated with it. You let out a few pleased sounds here and there that are not entirely faked or exaggerated. He definitely knows what he’s doing with his hands.

Honestly, you feel sorry towards your co-star who’s stuck doing most of the work while you’re splayed out like a starfish. It feels a bit unfair that you’re getting paid more than him when he’s the one putting in most of the effort. Had you any shame, you’d give him half of your pay for his services. Alas.

“Tell me if it hurts anywhere,” he warns, not unkindly.

Your back stiffens. You expect Hoseok to replicate the rough treatment he’d inflicted to your breasts, but contrary to your expectations, he kneads your body gently, almost tenderly. The contrast between this touch and his earlier ministrations messes with your head. When his hands outline your flank, his fingers prodding the sides of your breasts, you swallow a hopeful sigh as you wait for him to envelop your soft mounds and roll your sensitive nipples between his skilled fingers.

Betrayal brews in your gut when he fails to indulge your fantasies. You’re tempted to grab his wrist and guide his hand to where you need it the most but you miraculously hold yourself back. Since the scene doesn’t call for that much impatience and desperation on your part, you’d hate to be the reason why Director Ryu asks for a re-take.

Thankfully, he soon puts you out of your misery. Hoseok retreats, done teasing the sides of your breasts for the time being. You’re not sure it’s relief or disappointment that swims in your lower belly, but Hoseok doesn’t give you time to dwell on the question. Almost as soon as he retracts his hands from your back, he redirects his attention to your legs. His hands, warm and slick from the oil, glide over the back of your calves and thighs with ease. His thumbs rub circular shapes into your flesh as he slowly works his way up, the pleasant sensations leaving your whole body boneless.

“You loosen up well.”

Hoseok’s fingers skirt the hem of the towel. Your breath gets caught in your throat as he toys with the fabric.

“Will you open up for me, pretty? You look tense right here.” He flips the towel up, revealing your bare lower half. He wastes no time before gripping the meat of your ass cheeks, fingers digging into the supple flesh. He spreads your cheeks apart, cool air blowing against your exposed holes, and lets them jiggle back into place after giving the camera ample time to capture the view. “Hm. Looks like you haven’t been properly stretched out in a long time... We’ll fix that today.”

Bolts of pleasure run through your body. The whole situation is ludicrous and yet, for whatever reason you cannot pinpoint, moisture gathers between your thighs with every passing second, adding to the mess dripping from your folds.

“Um, like this?” You part your legs open slightly, as if unsure. In situations like these, the biggest challenge is to act diffident and coy when all you want is for your co-star to blow your back out.

He tsks, the sound sharp and reproving. It goes straight to your core and makes your belly clench with unspeakable need.

“How am I supposed to fuck your holes open in that position?” He has the audacity to sound impatient. “Work with me here.”

He grabs your ankles and separates them himself, ignoring your yelp of surprise. Unaccustomed to the stretch, the muscles in your thighs strain with the effort to hold the position.

A whine slips out your mouth. He’s so mean.

While you expect Hoseok to act somewhat distant and objective because of the role he’s playing, his fluctuating behavior gives you nothing but whiplash. One moment he’s cordial and friendly, the epitome of what a  professional should be, the next he’s treating you like you’re his plaything, not his client.

His grip around your ankles is firm and unyielding. He’s got you spread impossibly wide, your legs dangling dangerously off the edge of the table with your waxed holes exposed for inspection.

“That’s good, just like that.” His hands let go of your ankles when he’s sure you won’t move from the position he’s steered you into. He strokes up your legs, the touch feather-light and fleeting. “Keep your legs spread wide. I want to see your cute little holes on display.”

His crude remarks make your body flush with heat.

Even if this is the sort of place that offers sexual gratification, Hoseok’s wording toes several lines. As his client, he should be focused on giving you pleasure, so why do his comments make it sound like you’re here for his entertainment instead?

Despite your character being fully aware of what type of establishment she’s visiting, you reckon Hoseok’s words are enough to make her squirm in embarrassment. There’s something filthy about the way he orders you around and bends you to his will. Even you’re not indifferent to the impersonal way he handles your body like a doll. Flickers of arousal lick up your spine, and with your legs extended so far apart, it’s not difficult for Hoseok to notice how much you’re wound up.

The position is far from proper. Hot streaks of humiliation burn through you when you imagine how easy and slutty you must seem to whoever is watching. You don’t dare move from the pose he’s maneuvered you into, not because you’re scared of the consequences, but because his presence demands obedience. Even without explicitly saying so, he’s made it clear that for the next hour or so, you’re his to toy with.

“Good girl. You open up so nicely.” Hoseok purrs, satisfied with your compliance. “Now let me see what I’m working with here.”

He swipes his index finger through your glossy folds, the action forcing you to stifle a startled gasp. It’s nothing like the erotic oil massage you’d experienced minutes prior. The touch is inquisitive, clinical, assessing. Like he’s testing out a new product before purchase.

You want to stay still but you’re so wound up from his incessant teasing. The slightest caress makes the hairs on the back of your nape stand straight. Hoseok is all too aware of this fact. The tip of his pointer finger comes in contact with your clit, the touch more delicate than a feather's caress. Hoseok watches with thinly veiled amusement as you jerk against the table.

“You really are sensitive,” he all but coos. “What a treat. Don’t need any oil when you’re leaking all over the table like a faucet. How long has it been since someone touched you here, hm?”

The teasing lilt in his voice borders on condescending. Heat simmers under the surface of your skin as you struggle to collect your thoughts.

“Eight months,” you squeak just as two of his fingers dip into your slicked up entrance.

“No wonder you’re all worked up.” He slides his digits right up to the knuckle, the glide so easy it’s embarrassing. “Needy holes like yours should be used more often.”

He fucks his fingers into your pussy one, two, three times, before pulling away, chuckling under his breath when your hips push back, greedy and desperate for more. Using the same hand he’d used to test out your cunt Hoseok slaps your ass once, the sharp sting making you still at once.

The damp mark on your ass is a testament to how fucking soaked you are. You can’t imagine what kind of mess the cameras are picking up on - but maybe you don’t have to.

Hoseok wipes his fingers off on you, using you to clean himself off. Although you can’t see anything because of the way you’re laying down, everything feels wet and filthy. He rubs your own juices onto your skin, reminding you of the intensity of your need.

And just when you don’t think his mouth can get any filthier, he proves you wrong.

“I can tell you haven’t been stretched recently,” he sighs, almost disappointed. “You’re just gagging for a pounding, aren’t you? It’s a shame your fuck-hole is too tight to take a big cock or I would have given it to you right away.”

Your lower body clenches as his words wash over you.

The idea sounds downright delicious. Hoseok is right. Even if it’s just for the sake of the storyline, there’s nothing more you want right now than a good, hard fucking. It would take him less than ten seconds for him to pull his hard cock out from his scrubs and make a home for himself between your thighs. Images flash through your mind of Hoseok’s hands on your breasts, in your hair, around your throat. You want him to cover you, smother you, as he forces you down against the table and takes his fill. You want his lips on your skin, hot and possessive, as he uses you like the cocksleeve he needs you to be.

God, you want that. You want to be used hard, to be fucked full until you break. You need this - your character needs this.

You whimper, high-pitched and needy. “Please. Please, I want it. I want - I want your cock.”

“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok all but scoffs. “Why don’t you just sit still and relax for me? I’m going to massage you until you’re nice and loose, alright? First-timers like you could get hurt if they’re not prepped properly but I’ll get you ready, don’t worry. By the end of this, you’ll be able to take big cocks in all your holes like a pro.”

“Shit.”

You bite back a moan, startled at how much you’re turned on.

Porn dialogue is rarely arousing. You’re the first to tune out your partner whenever they talk for longer than a minute. It’s because you hear the same exact shitty lines repeated so often that you’re half-convinced there’s a porn acting for dummies handbook being circulated around.

Although… Maybe if Hoseok’s lines had been delivered by someone else, they wouldn’t have the same effect on you. That’s the difference, you think to yourself. Hoseok’s delivery. The cockiness that infuses his every word, the way he confidently carries himself… He does it all so convincingly - nothing like the wooden and awkward memorized performances you’ve witnessed from fellow actors.

While you’re lost in thought, Hoseok rummages inside the cardboard box. Without his touch or words to distract you, it’s harder to ignore the building arousal between your legs. As the seconds tick by, your shameful desire only worsens.

Before you can crane your neck or voice your confusion, Hoseok returns, humming under his breath.

“We’re gonna try a different massage technique now. This method will help with lubrication,” he explains evenly. “I’ll use a special vibrating tool that will massage hard to reach areas.”

“Um…” You swallow, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds. We’ll start off slow and I’ll gradually up the intensity once I deem you ready for the next stage. How does that sound?”

A click, followed by a low buzzing, fills the room.

You gasp when the vibrating object comes in contact with the back of your knee. Hoseok’s free hand settles on your leg - a nonverbal reminder to keep your legs wide open for him as well as the cameras.

“See? Nice and easy. Nothing to be scared of.”

He rotates the tool in slow, even circles. You force yourself to relax and accept the foreign massage, disregarding how strange it feels to have small vibrations travel up and down your leg. After a few minutes of him repeating the same motions on your other leg, he slowly makes his way up your thighs, the rounded tip of the tool dangerously close to your drenched pussy.

A pleading whine reverberates in your chest. The electric whirring of the vibrator is not enough to soothe the burning between your thighs. If anything, it makes it worse. You need more, you think urgently.

Hoseok moves to the side of the table so that the cameras can get an unobstructed view of your clenching hole. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he made you lie down. From his voice alone, it’s impossible to tell how affected he is. More than once you’d caught yourself wondering… Does he like what he sees? Is he enjoying himself?

A dark streak of satisfaction crosses over you when you notice the hunger in his gaze, his pupils blown so wide his brown eyes look black. Drool pools in your mouth when you spot the sizable tent in his scrubs.

The fact that you’re at the perfect height to suck his dick doesn’t slip by you. He could flip you over onto your back, your head hanging off the table, and use your mouth to his heart’s content. You whimper at the thought of him fucking your face, your mouth reduced to a fleshlight for him to get off. You could probably cum like that - his cock buried deep in your throat, his fingers pressed against the side of your neck to you struggle around his length, while his other hand reaches down to grab at your breast, using it as an anchor to fuck into you harder.

“Shit, you’re really making a mess of my work table.”

Hoseok’s gaze is trained between your legs. He wets his lips and adjusts his hold on the vibrator. The sudden movement changes the angle, positioning the tool right over your dripping entrance, closer than ever to your swollen clit. The vibrations suddenly feel louder and stronger than before. If this keeps up, you reckon that it won’t be long before you’re hurtling towards the edge of a precipice.

A moan slips past your parted lips, loud and wanton. Embarrassed by the sheer need that colors your voice, you quickly shut your mouth closed, hoping that your desperation goes by unnoticed.

Hoseok chuckles, the sound sharp and mean. He comments on your obscene behavior, how you’re acting so slutty it’s a wonder you’d kept this side of you locked away for this long without people suspecting your love for cock. Every word infiltrates your mind, leaves no corners untainted, until all you can think and breathe and smell is him.

“Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of sluts parade in here and pay for my time,” he says, his dulcet tone making the degradation sweeter. You hang onto each and every word, letting yourself fall deeper into a haze of arousal and submission. “But it’s been a while since someone like you showed up. Just look at this… Your little fuck-hole can’t even take a bit of teasing without getting me dirty.”

The buzzing between your thighs switches back and forth between strong pulses and rapid, little vibrations. You keen, shaking from head to toe in pleasure. Your thighs are wet, sticky with your juices, and your clit is hard and aching for attention.

You don’t even want to know what state your sopping pussy is in. Every time your body jerks and trembles, you feel the pool of arousal that’s gathered underneath you. It’s - embarrassing. That you’re this soaked and close to cumming when he hasn’t even touched your clit or fucked you with his cock.  

In the midst of your pleasure-induced haze, your eyes meet his. The lines of his face are drawn into a smug expression, his gaze smoldering. Embers of arousal light up his dark eyes, and you can only stare back at him, clit throbbing, as he ups the intensity of the vibrations.

“Fuck! Oh God, oh I’m-” Your legs thrash, hips lifting off the table in an effort to escape the shocks of pleasure zapping throughout your body. Mercifully - or not, depending on how you looked at it - Hoseok brought the vibrations down a few settings, until the whirring had quieted down to a low thrum.

“Feeling good, huh?” The grin he sends your way is positively wicked. “I think you’re ready to take more.”

More? you think weakly. Any more and you’ll explode, like popcorn kernels in a microwave.

For a second you think he’ll bring the vibrator up to your clit. Maybe even slide the long, phallic-shaped vibrator inside your pussy so that it’ll stretch you out like he’d promised. What you don’t expect is for him to bring it down to your other hole, the powerful vibrations rattling you to the core.

Your surprised gasp is so loud, not even the buzzing of the toy drowns it out. Hoseok places his available hand on your left hip and pins you to the table, the gentle weight keeping you steady.

“That’s right,” he soothes, voice smooth like silk. It sounds patronizing, almost like he’s calming down a dog startled by thunder or explaining right from wrong to a small child.

“Um.” You let trepidation inch its way into your voice. “You - what are you doing? That’s not - that’s dirty.”

“What is?”

“My,” you pause, humiliation coiling tightly around your spine. Hoseok presses the toy harder around your rim, its coat of arousal making the tip slide over your sensitive skin. You’re tempted not to answer but you know Hoseok wants you to voice the dirty words. “My asshole. It’s - dirty. Please - I… I don’t think you should touch it. It’s not right.”

You mumble the end of your sentence like you’re embarrassed to say such a scandalous thing out loud.

Hoseok laughs, sounding both mocking and endeared. “Oh, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m going to loosen up all your holes. Because that’s what you’ve always wanted deep down, isn’t it? To service cock. Even if it means letting me play with this dirty hole of yours.”

The vibrations intensify with the click of a button. Your whole body spasms, limbs flailing pathetically as the sensations run down your back all the way to the tip of your toes.

You bite down a whimper. How does he know? How can he tell? All you want right now is a nice, hard cock buried inside of you - and at this point you don’t care which orifice he sticks in it. You’re just so - empty. So empty it physically aches.

Hoseok dials down the intensity of the vibrator and with his free hand, squeezes a copious amount of oil onto the toy, slicking it up.

Surprisingly he doesn’t bother prepping you with his fingers before easing the toy into your back entrance. From your position, you can’t tell if Director Ryu signaled to hurry things along or if his own impatience played a part. Either way, your sharp intake of breath is genuine.

You try your best to relax your muscles but the toy is thicker than expected, its sides bumpy and ribbed. Even though you’d stretched yourself out beforehand with a sizable dildo, the girth of the toy still makes your breath hitch. Your bottom lip hurts as you scrape your teeth over it.

“Relax for me. That’s it.” Hoseok whispers soft words of encouragement. “You’re doing such a good job.”

Finally, after what seems like light years, the toy is fully inserted, only the base of it peeking out from between your parted cheeks. You feel full, deliciously so. It’s only now with the weight of the toy inside of you that you realize how much you’d missed being stuffed to the brim.

“There you go.” Hoseok smacks your right ass cheek hard enough for the sting to go straight to your clit. “How does that feel?”

“Full.” You smack your lips together. Eloquence is not your strongest suit in the present moment and your lack of coherency only humiliates you further. It’s like he’s rendered you cock-dumb. Reduced you to a lust-driven creature that only has dick on the brain. “I feel good.”

“Of course you’d enjoy that.” The cockiness in his voice is undeniable, like he’s drunk off the power he has over you. “Needy sluts like you only care about getting filled up, huh?”

It sounds like a rhetorical question but you answer it anyway, just in case he wanted an answer.

“Yes! I’m a needy slut. Please - could you…?” You wriggle your hips, trying to entice him into action. The rocking motion jostles the toy nestled inside of you, causing you to choke out a moan. “Hng! Use my pussy this time, please?”

Hoseok clucks his tongue and slaps your ass again to keep you still. It moves the lodged vibrator, knocking it against a spot inside of you that makes you gush. Your pussy clenches up in an imitation of an orgasm - but you know from experience that you haven’t cum just yet.

Fuck. You’re so fucked and he hasn’t even given you his cock.

Your head thumps down against the table as you take in deep, steadying breaths. You can’t think straight; every thought seems clouded by a dense smog of lust. Your body feels like a live wire, all your nerve endings crackling with electricity. How much more can you endure before you shatter beyond repair?

Hoseok takes pity on you. “The vibrating massage should have helped your muscles relax. Your tight cunt should be able to fit this in by now.”

He slides another silicone toy into your pussy, this one wider and longer than the first. Your hands grapple for purchase as your body accommodates both toys, one in each hole. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance despite its impressive size and you suck in a breath as Hoseok keeps pushing it in, inch by interminable inch.

If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to how stretched you feel now. The wall separating the two toys is stretched thin and when you tense your abdomen, you can feel both of them nudge against one another. Your stomach feels - bloated. As if there’s a bulge where the toys are nestled deep inside of you.

It’s quite frankly obscene.

You’ve never felt more turned on.

“Whoa.” He grips both of your legs and widens them even further, displaying your stuffed holes for the cameras. “Your hungry cunt ate up my biggest dildo like it was nothing.”

The fact that he admitted it was a dildo - and not some vibrating tool - just adds to your mortification.

“Okay. Two holes down, one to go.”

He releases his hold on your legs and raises a brow at you. The smirk is back on his face and that, paired with the ravenous look in his eyes, makes you want to run and hide. He looks like he’s two seconds away from devouring you whole for dinner. “Why don’t you turn around for me? It wouldn’t be a full body massage if I didn’t rub down the other side, right?”

His chuckle spurs you into action. It’s not that you’re not embarrassed by the idea of baring yourself completely for him like some sort of cult offering, but the need to get dicked down trumps all.

Your mind feels fuzzy and your body sluggish. There’s a fire inside of you that not even double penetration has managed to extinguish and it roars to life as you manœuvre into the position he’s ordered you to get into. The toys jostle inside of you, reminding you of the depraved lengths you’d go to because you’re starving for cock.

He’s right about you, you think as you settle onto your back. You’re a needy slut. All you want is for your holes to be filled. And when they’re empty, your body aches with the need to fill them back up again. Toys will do but they’re a poor substitute for what you really want.

Thankfully, Hoseok’s own patience is running out. You’ve barely gotten into a comfortable position when he’s fishing out his cock from his scrubs, not even bothering to remove his clothes.

Drool pools into your mouth at the sight. He’s just as long as you remembered him to be. Not too thick or veiny, but prettily flushed and glistening with translucent precum. How long has he been hard? The erection looks painful. Distantly, you’re comforted by the knowledge that you haven’t been the only one suffering from this prolonged foreplay. God is fair, you rejoice internally. 

Your mouth opens of its own accord and your tongue lolls out, hungry.

Hoseok doesn’t comment on your pathetic state -  a testament to how worked up he probably is. He guides his cock into your waiting mouth with barely repressed urgency.

His cock is heavy on your tongue, the perfect weight. He pushes in until he can’t go any further, the position you’re in giving him better access to your throat. You fucking love it.

When you swallow around his length, he hisses between his teeth. “Shit.”

He gives you little time to adjust. As soon as he’s certain you can take it, he starts to thrust his hips. His cock drags across the rough surface of your tongue as it’s pushed and pulled out of your mouth at a rapid pace. Each thrust of his hips makes you gag, drool running down the sides of your face, and the obscene sounds of your choking echo in your ears.

The rough treatment should revolt you, make you squirm or shy away, but you’ve never felt more alive. Your mind feels pleasantly blank - like your sole purpose in life is to be a glorified cum bucket, a receptacle for his cock and cum. Even when he buries himself all the way to the hilt, so far down your throat it feels like he’s reached your stomach, you’re eager for more. Logically speaking you don’t even know if you can handle more, don’t have the mental faculty to figure out if more is physically possible, but your body knows that it’ll never be sated, not fully, not until he cums inside you.

“Greedy girl,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “Look at you… I’ve plugged up three of your holes but you’re still gagging for it, aren’t you? Filthy slut.”

His words are meant to degrade and humiliate you. Instead of disgust, you can hear the admiration ring in his voice. His awe satisfies you and you hollow your cheeks, suctioning around his girth just to hear him curse under his breath. You live for the way his hips stutter and how his deep breathing is interspersed by the occasional grunt or moan. It feels good to know that you’re bringing him pleasure, that your hole is satisfactory.

Hoseok reaches over your body and grabs something from the discarded cardboard box you can’t see. You soon find out what it is though - the oil is drizzled over your torso and chest, liquid spilling down the sides of your body. He throws the bottle to the side, more interested in spreading the lubricant over your tits until they’re slick and shiny.

It soon becomes clear that he’s abandoned his earlier massage techniques in favor of a more rushed treatment. Gone is the slow build-up. He rubs your breasts, grabbing and squeezing them like stress balls, and pinches your hard nipples tightly between his fingers, pulling them out until your back arches.

The next time he slams his erect length into your mouth, your breasts bounce from the force of the thrust. Hoseok’s eyes remain transfixed on the lewd way your breasts jiggle; because he keeps your nipples clamped tightly between his fingers, your tits have no other choice but to swing around every time he rocks his hips back and forth.

Every time you gag and choke on his cock, tears prickling your eyes, you feel the fire between your legs grow stronger. Shame and arousal course through you, your head dizzy with lust. You can’t move, can’t scream, all of your moans of pleasure muffled by the cock buried in your throat.

He laughs derisively, pulling out after a particularly hard thrust. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his cock and your eyes zero in on it, finding it impossible to look away.

“You slut.”

He makes a disapproving noise low in his throat before slapping you across the face with his cock.

It doesn’t hurt anywhere as much as a real slap but it’s so unexpected you gasp, your jaw throbbing in pain. The imprint of his cock is wet and dirty against your cheek. He keeps his cock hanging a few centimeters above your face. It taunts you, beckons you closer. The seam of your mouth stays wide open, your appetite evidently knowing no limits.  

“Heh. You’re really something… Never seen a whore so cock-hungry in my life. And trust me when I say I’ve seen plenty.” He sneers, walking away.

For a long second, you fear he’s gone and left you high and dry and that the scene will end like that. Except - no. He’s positioned himself at the other side of the massage table. You shudder as you realize that can only mean one thing : he’s going to grant you the fucking your body craves. 

Hoseok’s lips twitch into a knowing half-smile. He grips his stiff cock in one hand, the length of it soaked with your spit and precum.

You gulp, suddenly intimidated. Perhaps it’s the angle, but he looks taller than you remember him to be, bigger, his shoulders slightly broader. His cock looks more imposing, too. Despite just having choked on it, it’s long; his hand sits loosely at the base of his cock, leaving a few good inches poking out of his fist. Your mouth goes dry, your insatiable hunger reawakened. 

The impatience marring your features is probably disgustingly obvious because Hoseok makes another comment about how desperate and pathetic you look once you’re deprived of cock.

Using his left hand, he slowly removes the toy from your ass. The slide is painful because you’re clenching so hard down on it, unwilling for your hole to become empty once again.

A whimper escapes your parted lips. Hoseok laughs at the betrayed look that crosses your face at the loss of the thick dildo.

“So fuckin’ greedy.” He slaps your entrance with his cock, his grin wolfish as you wail in reply. “Stay still if you want my cock.”

Immediately you freeze, taking his words to heart. Deep down, you know that he won’t be that cruel but you’re so exhausted from the never-ending teasing, that you’re not willing to take any chances.

Hoseok holds up one of your legs and pushes it over his shoulder.

“Good girl.” He breaches your ass, both of you moaning as his cock works its way inside of you. It’s a tight fit; you can feel his cock bump into the vibrating dildo in your pussy, the feeling overwhelming you. He grunts, fingertips bruising your skin as he hold back from cumming too quickly. 

His hips work up a steady rhythm, the both of you already so close to finishing. You know that a lesser man would have cum ages ago, but Hoseok troops on, eyebrows creased in concentration. He looks - hot. Ridiculously hot, even in that dumb fake masseuse uniform.

His once perfectly combed hair is now disheveled, strands of hair falling over his eyes and dripping brow. There’s something about all of it - the wild glint in his eyes, the rough way he’s fucking you, the domineering aura that he exudes - that makes you absolutely lose it.

You clench up on his cock without warning, your insides squeezing around him even more tightly because of the toy still lodged in your dripping cunt. The orgasm rips through you, fast and hard, leaving your thighs soaking. Hoseok fucks you through it, his cock relentless, drawing your pleasure out until your body goes limp. 

It’s the kind of orgasm that on a normal day you could only hope to achieve.

Except Hoseok doesn’t stop to let you rest or take a breather. He brings your other leg over his shoulder, testing the limits of your flexibility, and uses the new angle to plow into you with renewed force.

“Ah - ah fuck wait!” You cry out, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations traveling through your body. “Oh my God, oh shit! You’re so fucking deep, ah!”

Hoseok chooses that moment to turn on the vibrating dildo. He doesn’t even start at the lowest setting, sets it straight to one of the higher level ones, and your whole body jumps. Both of you moan as the toy comes to life. The vibrations rattle your insides - and that, coupled with the fat cock that’s splitting you open relentlessly, threaten to rearrange your insides.

Arousal builds again quickly inside of you, pulsing steadily alongside your heartbeat.

You feel so fucking full you think it’s possible you’ll burst. Before, when you had both toys buried inside of you, the stretch and the fullness had been pleasant. You had even been able to tune it out for the most part once you’d got used to it.

But with the way Hoseok is now fucking into you with reckless abandon, it’s impossible not to be reminded of how stuffed your holes are. Every thrust of his cock in your ass bumps against the vibrator, pushing it harder against your bundle of nerves. 

“I knew the minute I saw you,” he growls, his pace punishing. “No bra, pussy ripe for the picking. Whores like you could never be satisfied with the beginner massage. No, I knew exactly what you needed.”

He adjusts his grip on your ankles and the change in angle keeps the vibrator pressed directly the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you.

“Fuck! Oh God, there there! Please, keep going. It’s so good. Fuck me!” You chant, out of your mind with pleasure.Your words are raw, unrefined, and in any other circumstance, you’d laugh at how ridiculous you sound.

“You’re so fucking loud,” he hisses between grunts of pleasure. “Why don’t you go ahead and cum for me. Make yourself useful and tighten up this hole of yours so I can feel good.”

He reaches down between your legs and fiddles with the switch.

You scream. Your eyes roll back and your entire body locks up. Intense pleasure that you’ve never experienced before thunders through your body. If your previous orgasm was like a building wave crashing to the shore at long last, this one is a fucking tornado determined to rip you to pieces.

Maybe you might’ve passed out. You don’t know. But when you regain consciousness, Hoseok’s cock is pulsing jet after jet of hot cum inside of your pussy. You feel it spurt inside of you, coating your already slick walls with his essence. 

He pulls out quickly so that the camera can zoom in on the way the cum oozes out of you in thick globs. Instinctively you clench your walls to keep more from leaking out, but it only pushes more of the mess out, painting your inner thighs white.

When you glance up at him you notice his shirt is soaked. There’s a huge dark spot that starts from his chest to his pants. He doesn’t seem to mind the stain.

“You came so hard you passed out,” he informs you while tucking his spent cock back inside his scrubs. “I came inside of you while you were out of it but I figured you wouldn’t mind. That’s what you came here for, right?”

The smile he shoots your way looks more like a smirk. You bite your lip. He must’ve taken out the dildo - or it might’ve gotten pushed out during your orgasm, you don’t know - and you feel your holes gape a little after being stretched and used for so long. You’re tempted to snap your legs shut but you know the cameras need to record your debauchery.

“I’ll let you change. You can meet me out front to schedule your next appointment. Hm let’s see… Considering how well you reacted during this session I think we’ll have to take more, hm, drastic measures next time. I’m curious to see how far your greedy cunt is able to stretch with enough incentive. I’m positive that with you anything is possible. We’ll try fitting two cocks insides for starters and maybe - ah. I’m getting carried away.” He chuckles. “Anyways, meet me at the counter in ten minutes and we can go over the details then.”

“I…” You wet your lips. “I’d like that.”

A silence ensues and for a second you think your acting was bad or you’d said the wrong thing.

“CUT! And that, my friends, is what you call art!” yells Director Ryu, clapping his hands like a seal.

You breathe out a sigh of relief and sit up despite your muscles protesting loudly. God, your ass feels sore. Hoseok had really done a number on you.

“Hey, are you all good?” He asks, drawing closer to you in concern. He must have seen your grimace.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s just - it was kind of intense. In a good way! I’ll probably be sore later but that’s because I’m not used to these kind of scenes yet.”

“You were really hot. I couldn’t tell this was your first anal scene at all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Really.” Hoseok sighs dreamily. “I think I saw Jesus when I came.”

“What?” You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter. “It was a good nut, I take it?”

“The best.” He looks over at you, dimples on his cheek as he returns your smile. “I blacked out for a second and went to heaven.”

You bask in the afterglow for a few minutes longer than you usually would. Hoseok makes no move to leave either, even if logic dictates that you’re both better off washing up instead of letting the mixture of sweat, cum, and oil dry on your skin. You know from experience that it’s hard as fuck to clean up once it hardens - not to mention it stinks.

“Babe!”

You’re roused from your peaceful state of mind as your boyfriend approaches. He’s smiling but one side of his mouth looks stiff. He hands you a towel, eyes trailing down your figure, and suddenly you feel self-conscious. You hurriedly wrap the fluffy material around you, eager to hide the cum still dripping out of your swollen cunt and the red marks littered over your body from Hoseok’s rough treatment.

It’s not - you’re not ashamed. You never are. It’s just - you don’t want to hurt Jimin. Even if it does come with the job, it can’t be easy for him to see his girlfriend getting fucked by someone else.

“That was so good! You did great. The camera really loves you. I can’t wait to see how the final cut turns out,” Jimin compliments and you preen despite yourself, conditioned to suck up praise. “Are you hungry?”

Just on cue your stomach lets out a grumble.

Jimin’s eyes crease into crescents as he smiles. “I knew it. You’re always famished after a scene. It’s a good thing I booked a reservation at our favorite restaurant, right?”

You nod, thankful yet again that you have such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend. “I’m famished now that you mention it.”

Hoseok observes the exchange silently and his presence makes you embarrassed for some reason. Maybe not embarrassed but - something. You can’t put a name to the emotion.

“Um, I’ll see you around?” You say as you gather to your feet. Jimin is instantly by your side, his hand wrapping around yours tightly. “It was nice working with you again! Thank you for your hard work.”

Hoseok’s lips quirk into a half-smile. He’s still eyeing the both of you in a strange, intense kind of way and the scrutiny makes you fidgety. You try not to make your desire to flee the scene too transparent.

“It’s always a pleasure. I look forward to working with you again.”

The words he utters are tactful and diplomatic - nothing like the carefree familiarity he’d showcased minutes prior. You don’t blame him, given the circumstances.

You shoot him an apologetic look as you turn away to leave. To your relief, Hoseok doesn’t appear dejected or offended. Just - curious, maybe? Pensive? Like he’s in the middle of solving a complicated and intricate puzzle and that puzzle involves you.

The idea scares you. Mostly because you yourself don’t know what he’ll find.

As soon as you’ve rounded the corner, Jimin excuses himself. “I have to finish helping the guys. There’s still some equipment to put away. But we’ll meet out in the back like last time?”

“Sure.”

He kisses your cheek and scampers away.

Seokjin is waiting for you in the next room over. He’s holding a water bottle, your favorite silk robe, and a dark chocolate energy bar. You’re so sweaty that it feels silly to wear the robe but you shrug it on anyway, knowing that Jimin will feel better if you’re not parading around the set naked.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and it’s only then that you realize the extent of how fucking hungry you are. Non-stop sex sure is tiring, you note while ripping open the energy bar with your teeth. Seokjin calls you a savage under his breath but those types of comments are so commonplace that it’s easy to tune him out.

“God, I could kiss you right now,” you say after swallowing down a mouthful of granola. After eating spinach exclusively for the past three days, the sweetness on your tongue tastes like a slice of heaven.

“Not with that mouth, you won’t.” Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I know where it’s been.”

Still high from your mind-shattering orgasm, you giggle and pretend to kiss him just to watch him squirm. It’s not until much later, after you’d washed up as best you could with the help of baby wipes, that you check your phone. You respond to a text or two before finally checking your social media page out of habit more so than anything else.

.

(2) new notifications

JHOPE94 has followed you!

JHOPE94 has mentioned you in their story.

.

It’s the same account Hoseok had shown you earlier in the day. You follow him without much thought, grinning to yourself when you read his bio “hope on streets and in the sheets ;)”, and click on his Instagram story.

You’re surprised to learn he’s one of those people who uploads multiple pictures about just about anything - his Starbucks’ coffee cup with JAY written in black sharpie, several mirror selfies, a snapshot of his shoes, pictures of the film crew setting up the scene. You click through the pictures, a little flummoxed by the random collage, and pause when you get to the picture you’d been tagged in.

It’s you. Squinting, you realize that he must have taken the candid picture in passing. You’re sitting in the hair and makeup chair, the makeup artist applying a layer of gloss on your lips. The row of lights that border all around the vanity mirror give your figure a halo spotlight effect.

JHOPE94 : not in heaven but i saw an angel today :))

.

.

[fanaticfangirl001]

Like Real People Do Ch 5: An Assassin, A Terrorist, A thief, and A Bird Walk Into Madripoor

Taglist:

@p3nny4urth0ught5, @kissofvenom922

Ch 5:

Author’s note:

“I’m going to go in alone.” Bucky turns to Winnie and Sam.

“Why?” Sam asks.

“Bucky does have a better chance of getting answers.” Winnie adds.

“Also you’re an Avenger. You know how he feels about that.” Bucky says.

“It’s not like you two are known for frolicking in the sun together.”

“Zemo would be a good informant though, Sam.”

“He was obsessed with HYDRA. We have a history together. Trust me. I got it.” Bucky walks off to speak with Zemo.

Sam turns to Winnie “ Why aren’t you volunteering to go in with him?”

“I can’t, I doubt Zemo likes me much.” Winnie scoffs.

“Right, SHIELD.”

“Yeah.” Winnie nods hoping Sam drops it.

“So.” Sam changes the subject, “ You were kind of out of it when I mentioned Sharon.”

“I said then that I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“How about now?”

“Look, right before Shield fell I found some documents connecting the dots.I saved them to a flash drive and drove my ass home to the apartment Sharon and I shared. I tried to tell her, she got defensive, we got in a fight. She claimed I was a part of Hydra. I called her a bitch and left.” Winnie explains.

“That’s rough.”

“Yeah, I don’t see us working it out. “

“There’s always couple’s therapy.” Sam suggests with a laugh.

“Oh right, how’d that session go?”

“Got to stare into his baby blues.”

“Did that help?”

“No.”

“I could do better than that.”

“Oh I bet he’d like that.” Sam smirks.

“Not what I meant.” Winnie rolls her eyes.

“What are you talking about breaking Zemo out of jail? Where the hell are we Buck? Have you lost your mind?” Sam asks.

“That’s a fantastic idea, Buck.” Winnie says sarcastically.

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing.”

“What we have is one of the most dangerous men in the world behind bars.”

“That Bucky wants to let out of those bars.” Winnie sidesteps by Sam to avoid tripping.

“We also have eight super soldiers on the loose.”

“Shit, he’s gotta point, Sam.”

“Zemo is gonna mess with our minds. Especially yours.”

“He also probably doesn’t like me either.” Winnie adds rubbing the back of her neck.

“Offense, super soldiers go against everything he believes in. He is crazy but he still has a code.”

“How crazy?” Winnie asks.

“Bag of cats.” Sam answers.

“He blew up the UN, killed King T’chaka and framed you for it.” Sam continues.

“We don’t know how they’re getting the serum.”

Bucky says.

“We don’t even know how much serum is out there.” Winnie replies then adds “ Or who put it out there in the first place.”

“What did you do?” Sam asks.

“I didn’t do anything.” Bucky says calmly.

Winnie takes a deep breath and puts her hands on her guns. If Bucky did what she thinks he did, then it’s only a matter of time before shit gets real.

“The weakest point in any system is not the software, the hardware, it's the meatware.The human element…” Bucky continues.

Three seconds to draw, two seconds to fire, three seconds to draw two seconds to fire, Winnie thinks over and over.

“I don’t like how natural, you’re being about this, and where are we, man?”

More lights fill the area and a door opens.

“Woah Woah Woah, What are you doing here!”

“I didn’t want to tell you cause I knew you’d never let this happen.”

Winnie follows the two with a gun in hand.

“What did you do?”

“We need him, Sam.”

“You’re going back to prison.”

“If I may..” Zemo starts.

“No!” Both shout.

Winnie stands besides them with her gun pointed at Zemo.

“Apologies.”Zemo says softly then looks at Winnie.

“When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you back him.” Bucky continues.

“I really think I’m invaluable.”

“Shut up.” Sam turns to Zemo.

“If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.” Sam says to Zemo.

“Fair.”

Zemo turns to Winnie and says “You’ve been very quiet. Penny for your thoughts.”

“Don’t let him mess with you.” Sam says as Winnie puts her gun back in the holster. “Okay, Zemo, where do we start.”

“So our first move is grand theft auto?”

“These are mine, collected by family over the generations.” Zemo starts collecting his things out of the cars.

“Nice wheels.” Winnie gestures to a vintage cadillac.

“So she speaks.”

“Leave her alone.” Bucky says.

“I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention of leaving my work unfinished. To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”

“Well, join the party. We’ve already started.”

“First stop is a woman named Selby.” Zemo says carrying his bags away. “Mid level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb.”

Walking up to the private jet, “ So all this time you’ve been rich.” Sam asks.

“I’m a Baron, Sam.” Zemo says as the four climb on the jet, “ My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.”

Zemo drinks the champagne his butler serves him.

“It seems like you have me at a disadvantage. I don’t know your name, and if I had known such a treasure would be with those two idiots, I’d escape sooner.” He says to Winnie.

“She’s Winnie, she’s a hacker. That’s your introduction.” Bucky says gruffly.

“ A hacker...interesting.” Zemo sips at his champagne.

“Not really.”

“Oh no, it is. You’re not with an agency, I guess.”

“No.”

“No health insurance or dental, no pay check.”

“None of that.”

“Do you live in a house?”

“Yes.”

“With no income?”

“Yes.”

“Must have a wealthy family?

“No, I’m an orphan.”

“Then pray tell how you get paid.”

“Easy, like Buck said, I’m a hacker, To make money I hack into bank accounts of the rich and take very little in the grand scheme of things. One percent of the richest men in the world’s wealth.”

“Winnie.” Sam nudges her.

“It’s the truth.” Winnie adds. “Besides not like he needed it in prison.”

The conversation lulls to a deafening silence.

“Why don’t you tell us where we’re going?” Sam asks.

“Sorry I was just fascinated by this. I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?”

Bucky jerks across and grabs Zemo by the throat.

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you.”

Zemo nods understanding and Bucky sits back down.

“You okay, Buck.” Winnie asks.

Bucky nods.

“I’m sorry. I understand the list of names.People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.”

“Don’t push it.”

“I’ve seen that book.” Sam adds. “It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?”

“I like ‘40s music, so...” Bucky answers.

“You didn’t like it.”

“I liked it.”

“It is a masterpiece, James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience”

“He’s out of line, but he’s right.”

“Extremely right.” Winnie adds.

“Everyone likes Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

“You must have really looked up to Steve.But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s super soldiers is that we put them on pedestals.”

“Watch your step, Zemo.”

Winnie watches Bucky, and nudges his leg with her foot. He nudges her foot back with a small smile.

“They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought.”

“There is no avoiding war; it can only be postponed to the advantage of others.” Winnie quotes Machiavelli.

“Clever.” Zemo says then adds “ Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we go to Madripoor.”

“What’s up with Madripoor? You talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary in the 1800s.”

“It’s kept it’s lawless ways.”

“Well let’s get the show on the road.” Winnie picks up her bag.

“We can’t exactly walk in as ourselves. James you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

“We have to fix this.” I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming, African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“Who am I?” Winnie asks. She dressed in a glittering short golden dress with black thigh high boots.

“A sugar baby.”

“Why am I the sugar baby?”

“It’s a role I thought you would be the most comfortable with.”

“Is this payback for stealing money from you.”

“No.”

“Oh well then Sam and I will be constantly vigilant. I have extra guns strapped to my thighs just in case.”

“The Smiling Tiger doesn’t have a sugar baby.”

“Then who am I..” Winnie’s face falls as she realizes who she’s paired up with on this mission.

“That.” Zemo points to her face,” is payback enough.”

“I don’t like you at all, but good play.” Winnie admits holding out her hand.

Zemo takes her hand and kisses it.

“Oh you don’t have to do that.” Winnie adds.

“No matter what happens we have to stay in character.”

The four of them climb into the car headed for Low Town.

Winnie stays close to Zemo looking around.

Zemo wraps an arm around her and whispers “Relax and fake like you’re meant to be here.”

“Right.” Winnie straightens her postures and twirls her hair between her fingers.

“We’re here.” Zemo then speaks to Bucky in russian: Ready to comply, Winter Soldier.

Once at the bar the bartender welcomes them “ Hello Gentleman, and lady, Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed, we have to do business with Selby.”

“The usual?” The bartender suggests.

“Ah, Smiling Tiger, your favorite.” Zemo says.

Winnie puts a hand on Zemo’s shoulder and lightly squeezes it.

“I love these.” Sam takes the glass

“Cheers, Conrad.”

Sam takes the drink and swallows the snake organ.

A man comes up to Zemo and Winnie lets go of his arm. Zemo wraps his arm around her.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…”

“New haircut.” The man nods towards Bucky.

“Or bring Selby for a chat.”

“Power broker, really.”

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?”

“Only by reputation. In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.” Zemo begins walking to the middle of the room speaking Russian to Bucky.

‘ Oh no, Winnie thinks, it’s showtime.’

Bucky attacks the man standing beside Zemo. People begin recording. Multiple men are attacked until a gun is cocked.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.”

“You’re undoing so much therapy.” Winnie adds softly.

“Keep in character or the whole bar turns against us.” Zemo adds softly before ending Bucky’s commands.

“Selby will see you now.” The bartender says.

“You good?” Sam asks.

Bucky doesn’t answer, just walks off.

The four go up the stairs.

“You should know, Baron.” Selby says “ People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.”

“Not a demand, an offer.”

“A lot has changed since you were here last.By the way I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we. I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.”She purs, “ What’s the offer?”

“Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum. And I give you him.” Zemo touches Bucky’s face. “Along with the code words to control him, of course.He will do anything you want.”

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember.”

“I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. It’d be a bad date for the pretty thing on your arm. You were right to come to me. Arrogant but right. The super soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you want to thank. Or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum but things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?”

“Oh the bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute. Don’t think you can find Nagel without me.”

Sam’s cell phone buzzes.

“Answer it.”

Winnie stands with her hands by her side ready to grab her guns.

“On speaker.”

“Hello.”

“Hey, um we need to talk about this situation. It’s been driving me, nuts.”

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?”

“Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.”

“What situation, Sarah? Say it.”

“The damn boat. And watch your tone. Okay? I let you slide at the bank.”

“The bank, yeah.” Sam scoffs. “Laundered so much… Yeah they’ll come around.”

“If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big time.”

“Yeah you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see when I have that banker killed.”

“Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios! I don’t have time for this! Sam I’m sorry let me call you back.”

“Sam? Who’s Sam? Kill them.”

The window breaks and Selby falls shot in the chest.

Bucky and Sam fight the two guards with Bucky grabbing the gun. Winnie follows Zemo to the door.

“They’re going to pin this on us.”

“We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.”

As they walk out, phone’s all over the island begin buzzing with a bounty on the four of them.

“This is not good.”

“Obviously not good.” Winnie says

A man with a large gun begins shooting at the four, Sam and Bucky go in one direction, Zemo and Winnie in the other.

Winnie begins to notice the pattern of the sniper killing all those who want us dead. It reminds her of the cover she had on missions with Sharon. Winnie and Zemo keep going until they meet up with Sam and Bucky.

“We seem to have a guardian angel.”

“Well this is too perfect.” A woman says walking out of the shadows. “ Drop it Zemo.” She has him at gunpoint.

“Sharon.” Bucky says

“You cost me everything.” Sharon takes a step towards Zemo.

“Sharon wait, someone recreated the super soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” Sam explains.

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass to save his ass, from his ass. I didn’t have the avengers to back me up. So I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

Winnie clears her throat,” Sharon.”

“Winnie.”

“Don’t blow smoke, I was on the run too.”

“Was, is, big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore. I can’t.”

“Listen Sharon we need your help.” Bucky asks.

“No we don’t.” Winnie argues.

Sharon laughs.

“Please.” Bucky tries again.

“Bucky.” Winnie interjects.

“Winnie, we need her help. You two can get over it.” Bucky turns to Winnie.

“I have a place in High Town, You’ll be safe there.”

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well.”

“I thought if I had to hustle, I might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I can get for a real Monet.”

“You never liked art before.” Winnie mentions crossing her arms.

“Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monets.”

“No, she means real. This gallery specializes in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.”

Winnie stops by one painting, and Sharon stands beside her.

“The Beach in Pourville, it was your favorite, right.” Sharon points out.

“Yeah, I didn’t think you were listening, when I spoke about it while experimenting.”

“You said that if you could jump into any painting like Mary Poppins, you’d choose this one. So you could lay on the beach after jumping in the waves and watch the sun set.”

“I know what I said.”

“Have you?”

“Do I look like I’ve been to any beaches?”

“There’s a beach on High Town. You could stay.”

“I can’t leave Buck and Sam.”

“You call him Buck.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice,” Sharon turns to the group away from Winnie “ You guys need to change I’m hosting clients in an hour.”

Winnie changes into the gown that Sharon picked for her. Albeit not as sparkly as the one Zemo picked out. It was nice and understated. A short lilac halter dress with a black belt paired with her same thigh high black boots, Zemo had picked out.

Sharon opens the door.

“Sure, Sharon, you can come right in.” Winnie puts on the pearl earrings Sharon picked out.

“You look great.”

“Thanks.”

“You were right.”

“About.”

“Everything, shield, the government, being pessimistic. I didn’t believe you, and then I stole the shield and after being on the run I realized I was wrong the whole time. I shouldn’t have called you a hydra agent, especially after everything you did for Shield and the inventions.”

“The rocket boots work.”

“Course, they did, you made them.”

“You think apologizing after more than seven years is going to fix everything.”

“No, because I know you, and you hold grudges like no one else I know. But it’s a start to not hating me.”

Winnie sighs, “I don’t hate you, that’s too strong of a word but another start would be helping us a little more.”

“I thought you didn’t need my help.”

“Buck was right. Any other information you have is going to help us.”

“ Speaking of Bucky, what is your deal?”

“Deal?”

“Yeah are you two friends or more, because I…” Sharon starts but gets interrupted.

“Don’t.” Winnie says sharply.

“Oh.” Sharon smiles.

“Not like that. It’s just, you remember when we’d go out together, and I’d flirt with a guy and then they’d ask me for your number.”

“You don’t want that to happen to Bucky.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Noted. Just uh he might have heart palpitations when he sees you in this dress.”

“Sharon, go check on the guys.”

Sharon walks in the room as Sam’s changing shirts.

“Much better.”

“What’s going on Sharon? You don’t ever wanna come back home?”

“They’ll lock me up if I step foot back in the States.”

“Madripoor doesn’t allow extradition.”

“Look I’m sorry I didn’t call. But after the blip and the chaos. I just..”

“Look you know the hero thing is a joke, right. The way you gave up that shield.deep down, you must know it's all hypocrisy.”

“He knows. And not so deep down.”

“By the way how is the new Cap?” Sharon asks.

“Don’t get me started.” Bucky answers.

“I punched him in the face.” Winnie enters the room in her new dress.

“You look nice.” Bucky looks away from Winnie.

“Thanks.” Winnie sits on the other couch by Zemo.

“Please you buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr.America! Cap’s best friend.” Sharon sits down by Bucky.

“Wow, she’s kind of awful now.”

“Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum.” Sam starts.

Winnie looks down at her phone tracking the shield and John just to see that they are still in Germany.

“You guys really should steer clear of all this for your own safety. Winnie, seriously, you can and should stay here with me. You know all about art and I can get you drawing again, or inventing. Plenty of people would pay big money for rocket boots, or taser whips, boomerang daggers.”

“I can’t.”

“We know it’s a risk, but we won’t leave until we find the person that cracked the code.”

“We got a name, Wilfred Nagel.”

“Nagel works for the Power Broker.”

“We need your help Sharon, I can get your name cleared.”

“You haggling with my life?”

“Not like that.”

“I don’t buy that.”

“You pretending like you can clear my name.”

“Okay maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you’re right. What happened to you. But I’m willing to try if you are. They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he’s met.”

Sharon looks at Bucky, he’s glaring at Zemo, who’s talking to Winnie about art.

“You draw and paint?” Zemo asks.

“I did, when I had the stuff or the time.” Winnie shrugs and pulls out her tattered sketchbook with pages falling out. She opens it flipping through a few landscapes and portraits of people she saw at coffee shops.

“You stole money from a billionaire and you didn’t steal enough for art supplies.” Zemo questions.

“I only stole money from you for rent, groceries and to sponsor a few Sokovian families.” Winnie explains. “ I make a tight budget and stick to it.”

“You.. what?” Zemo looks surprised.

“I sponsored a few Sokovian families to emigrate to the United States. It was anonymous so I don’t know where they ended up.”

“I heard that.” Bucky adds to Sharon.

“I don’t trust charity.”

“All right, a deal then.”

“You help us out, and I get your name cleared.”

Sharon shakes his hand.

“Well I sell to some well connected people. Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay out of trouble. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Trouble.”

Loud electronic music plays. People are everywhere, dancing with everyone. Winnie feels a little out of place.

“A part to play,again.” Zemo says from behind her. “Relax, your friend said to have fun.”

“Ex-friend, and secondly parties like this aren’t fun for me. I’d rather be..” She’s interrupted by Zemo.

“You’d rather be in some greasy spoon hole in the wall diner with James, sharing a milkshake.”

“Malts, and second why do you think this?”

“On the plane when after James choked me, you asked if he was okay.”

“Friends do that.”

“Again on the plane when I made James uncomfortable, you kicked his leg.”

“Yeah, checking up on him without asking if he’s okay. “

“ He stares at you when you aren’t looking.”

“He stares at everyone.”

“When he stares at you though, his features soften.”

“And.”

“Also when we were talking about art, he was glaring at me.”

“He doesn’t like you much anyway. He has reason to glare at you that doesn’t have to do with me.”

“I’m just saying if you two both feel the same way, why wait? No one is guaranteed time on this earth.”

“You’re ridiculous. Also you might want to change your pin code. Your dead wife’s birthday isn’t a secure code.” Winnie walks off from Zemo.

Winnie finds Bucky by himself on the outskirts of the dance floor.

“Need a breather.”

“Yeah.”

“Winnie, stay away from Zemo. He plays mind games”

“I can handle myself. We were talking about you.”

“That’s another reason why you should stay away from him.”

“He said you like me cause you stare at me, but..”

“I gotta find Sam.” Bucky walks off to find Sam.

The moment Bucky is out of sight Zemo walks back to her.

“Did you get the answer?” He asks.

“Yeah, I did. Not the one I wanted” Winnie nods then says “ Let’s dance, Zem.”

Bucky looks around and finds Sam.

“Winnie knows.” Bucky says nervously to Sam.

“She’s a genius and a hacker. What specifically does she know?”

“She knows that I..” Bucky trails off when Sharon arrives.

“Don’t let me interrupt this.” She says. “ Winnie knows that you..”

“I’m fond of her being around.” Bucky finishes.

“That was a secret?” Sam asks.

“Yes, did you know?”

“Of course I knew. The real question is does she like you?” Sam looks towards Sharon.

“I’m not violating Winnie’s trust. She just stopped hating me. I also found him.”

“Okay Bucky, let’s put in a pin in your love life problem for now, and let’s get this guy. Here we go.”

Sharon signals Winnie and Zemo and they follow the three out of the party.

“Madripoor can give New York a run for its money.”

“They know how to party.”

“You’re not a bad dancer, Zem.”

“Neither are you Win.”

“With that bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving. All right. He’s in there. Container four-two-six-one. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel.”

“Need help out here.” Winnie offers.

“No I got it.” Sharon insists.

Winnie follows the three guys inside putting in her ear piece.

“Completely empty.”

“I’m positive it has to be.”

Walking around on the inside with a flashlight Zemo pushes in the false wall. Music is playing softly.

“Mel Torme, good taste.” Winnie whispers.

“Agreed.” Zemo motions for Bucky and Sam to go forward with the guns.

Winnie pulls out her guns, ready for anything and follows walking through the makeshift lab.She listens out for any signs of struggle from Sharon outside.

Zemo stops the record.

“Dr.Nagel?”

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“We know you created the super soldier serum.”

“Get out of my lab.”

“Hey. You know who he is right.This is Baron Zemo.I know you've heard of him too. You seem like a pretty smart guy. So you better become conversational real quick.”

“How about a counter proposal? Make me a better offer and I’ll talk.”

Winnie looks around at the chemicals and the serum making process. It would take years to make sense of this.

“Guys we have company.” Sharon says from the ear pieces. “Every bounty hunter in the city is here we gotta go.”

Bucky grabs the doctor and puts him in a chair with a gun in his face. He fires the gun near him.

“Okay.I was brought into Hydra’s Winter Soldier program to pick up their work after the five failed test subjects in Siberia. When Hydra fell I was recruited by the CIA. They had blood samples from an American test subject, with semi-stable traces of serum in his system.After much labor, I was able to isolate the necessary components in his blood. I was a god. I did what no other scientist since Erskine was able to do. But mine was going to be different. No clunky machines or jacked up bodies. Mine was going to be subtle, optimized. Perfect.”

“How have we never heard about this?”

“Because before I was able to complete my work. I turned to dust.Then when I returned, it was five years later,the program had been abandoned, so I came here. THe Power Broker was more than happy to fund the recreation of my work.”

“How many vials did you make?”

“Twenty.”

“Karli Morgenthau stole those, so I can only imagine what the Power Broker has planned for that poor girl.”

“Where’s Karli now?”

“I don’t know where she is. But a couple of days ago she called and asked if I could help someone named Donya Madani. Poor woman has tuberculosis. Typical of overpopulation in displacement camps like that.”

“Well, what happened to her?”

“Not my pig, not my farm.”

“Is there any serum in this lab?”

“No.”

“Now what?”

“Guys we’re seriously outta time here.”

Zemo shots the doctor.

“No!”

A large explosion throws the five on the other side of the lab.

Bucky, Sam, Winnie, and Sharon on one side with Zemo on the other.

“Anybody see Zemo?” Sam asks.

“Let’s go.” Bucky pulls Winnie and Sharon up.

“Alright wait for my signal.”

Gunfire breaks out.

Sam goes early.

“Damnit.” Bucky says running after providing cover for Sam.

“You know the drill, right Winnie.” Sharon says.

“Yeah yeah, go.”

Sharon and Winnie run and fall into their old routine, as though it’s been no time since they were partners. The four find cover and keep shooting.

“And you like living here?”

“It’s not terrible.”

“It’s pretty terrible, Sharon.”

“I thought you were going left.”

“You went the wrong way.”

“I was clearing the way.”

“Do they always fight like this?” Sharon asks.

“Pretty much.” Winnie answers.

“I came out first. You had to follow me.”

“And where are we now!”

“Guys, Not the time!”

“I’m out.”

“This is a barricade.”

“It’s in every action movie.”

“Might have some more in my backpack.” Winnie tells Sharon.

“You carry ammunition in a Jansport.”

“I didn’t judge you in your home with the off season prada purse you were carrying.”

The four look up and see Zemo with a purple mask sniping the way clear.

“Go.” Bucky taps Winnie and Sharon

They grab each other and run.

Bucky and Sam follow into a shipping container.

A car screeches to halt with Zemo in it,

“Supercharged.”

“You’re going back to jail.”

“Do you want to find Karli or not?”

“He’s right, we need him.”

“There’s three of us and at least twenty of them.”

“Fine but if you try that shit again…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Well that was one hell of a reunion.”

The four get in the car.

“Come back to the states with us.”

“I can’t. Just get me the pardon you promised me. And here.” Sharon gives Winnie back the flash drive with all the hydra information on it.

“Thanks.”

“You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you.”

“No.”

On board the private jet Sam calls Joaquin about Donya Madani.

“Oh ask him about the secret Winnie project.”

“Sure.”

“Do you have information on some secret Winnie project?”

“Yeah yeah it’s a bad name, she’ll work on it. Nothing, yet, okay more importantly is Donya Madani.”

Winnie looks down at her phone tracking John with earbuds in listening to his conversations.

“You okay?” Bucky asks seeing Sam flop down into a chair.

“Yeah. Just thinking about all the shit Sharon had to go through, and Nagel referring to the American test subject like Isaiah wasn’t even a real person. Just makes me wonder how many people have to get steamrolled to make way for this hunk of metal.”

“Well it depends on who you ask. That hunk of metal saved a lot of lives.”

“Yeah I get that. All right. Maybe I made a mistake.”

“You did.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have put it in a museum. I should have destroyed it. “

“Look that shield represents a lotta things to a lotta people, including me. The world is upside down, and we need a new Cap. and it aint gonna be Walker. So before you destroy it, I’ll take it from him myself.”

Joaquin calls Sam back and Zemo comes back with plates of food.

He gestures towards Winnie and says to Bucky“ Can she hear us?”

“No, she’s in survelliance mode. Put a tracker on the new Cap.”

“Smart.”

“Surprised she hasn’t put one on you.”

“Winnie is quite special, isn’t she?”

“Whatever you're thinking about saying or doing, don’t.”

“Oh I have no interest in her. Besides a financial one.”

“You want her to hack on your behalf, not gonna happen.”

“No, she’s an artist.”

“You want to pay her to draw and paint.”

“Yes, she’s very talented. She showed me her sketchbook, you’ve seen it haven’t you?”

“No.”

“Hm, interesting.”

“Stop.”

“They found Madani. Dead. She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea.”

“I have a place we can go.” Zemo says. “I for one am looking forward to coming face to face with Karli. Oeznik we’re changing course.”

“Walker knows you two broke out Zemo.” Winnie says taking out her earbuds. “ He’s also not too concerned with his rules of engagement.”

Walking down the streets of Riga, Latvia, Zemo begins talking. Winnie looks at the small buildings lining the street, it looks like painting by the sea.

“I don’t suppose any of you bothered visiting the memorial, at least the thief donated.” Zemo gestures to Winnie.

Zemo stops at a large building, “We are here.”

“I’m gonna go on a walk.” Bucky says.

“You good?”

“Yeah.”

“Be careful.” Winnie adds.

“Always am.” Bucky nods.

Once Zemo and Sam are inside Winnie follows them.

Sam turns towards Winnie with a smile.

“What?”

“Be careful.” Sam mimics her.

“Not you too.”

“No it’s cute. It’s adorable actually. That you have no clue.” Sam says.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 64 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet was not pleased by Team Adult’s discussion about Courtney, and Katya tried to grit her teeth and smile through her anxiety.

This Chapter: Katya continues to fake it, Tati rescues Courtney from Team Adult, Bianca makes nice, and Violet finds joy with an old friend.

***

“Katya! How are you, girl?” asked Alexis, giving her a tight hug that smelled like sweet florals.

Even though Katya had barely worked in Fame’s office, the entirety of the Galactica staff absolutely loved her, the crew always welcoming her back with open arms ever since the first time Trixie brought her back, everyone delighted to see her.

“Hi! I’m good, how are you?” Katya replied, touching the ruffles of her dark red skirt, doing her best to keep the smile on her face. “Love this dress.”

Alexis looked at her for a long moment before tilting her head and lowering her voice, asking, “Are you okay?”

Katya bit back a sarcastic reply. After all, Alexis couldn’t have guessed that she was about the 40th person tonight to ask her that question. Katya was trying her best, she really was, but simply maintaining her sanity all week had been hard enough.

She just didn’t have the energy to be her usual effervescent self, and she knew it.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” Katya shrugged, the words an absolute lie since she honestly felt exhausted. “You know, this time of year the six year olds are a bit out of control. Christmas cheer and all.”

Alexis laughed, patting her on the arm. “Well, bless you for taking care of the little monsters.”

When Alexis left a few minutes later, Katya felt a familiar arm wrap around her shoulders. “You know, if you want to leave early, we can.”

“That’s okay, sugar butt.” Katya turned around, placing a kiss on Trixie’s cheek, her fiancé wearing a sparkly silver tuxedo. “I know it’s important for you to bond with your team.”

“Yeah, but it’s even more important that you’re okay,” Trixie told her softly, holding her against his side, his voice low and full of concern.

“Have I told you today that you’re my favorite?”

“No…”

Katya wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him flush against her, Trixie immediately responding to her dominance. “How about this...you go chat up whoever you need to, and I’ll go prepare a sampling of every dessert they have...then we can meet back at that table in 10 minutes for a taste test?”

“Oh, you’re so on, baby.”

He gave her an enthusiastic high-five before scampering away, Katya smiling at his jaunty little walk. She’d been feeling so guilty for days now, wondering if she’d ever be enough for him. If she couldn’t handle kids, would he still be happy? She supposed there was no way to truly know for sure, and that thought plagued her like no other.

“Hey Katya. Are you okay?”

Katya closed her eyes, taking a brief moment to center herself before forcing a sunny smile and turning towards April’s voice.

***

The Galactica party was a lot more fun than Tati expected, everyone so much sweeter than she had hoped. She had bumped into Violet, the two of them actually talking this time, and Ivy had said hello to her earlier, Tatianna still beyond grateful for how kind the redhead had been to her at the holiday show. And then of course, there was the lovely Max, who had taken some photos for Tati’s portfolio after they’d met in September.

“Hi Max!” she exclaimed, greeting him with a bright smile. “It’s great to see you again!”

“Tatianna, hello!” Max said, gesturing for her to stop and pose in front of a big glittering Christmas tree, snapping a few shots of her, laughing as she hammed it up, giving him her best poses. “Well done.”

“I feel so honored to be in front of your camera again,” Tati said.

“Not for the last time, I hope.”

“Oh god, me too. I honestly can’t thank you enough for that session we had.”

“So they were useful then?” Max asked.

“You’re kidding, right?” Tatianna didn’t want to say that the simple photos Max had taken of her in his studio were a million times better than the meager gigs her agency had booked for her. It had been so much fun to shoot with him, Max guiding her with his calm voice and clear vision, the results speaking for himself even though Tatianna had just been doing what he asked. “They’re the best photos in my portfolio, hands down.”

“I know it’s tough when you’re starting out,” Max said, “But I’m sure you’ll find your niche; you’re very talented.”

“Thanks,” Tati said, hoping it wasn’t just something people said. It felt like she’d spent months pounding the pavement with little to show for it. Thank god for Courtney for getting her in with Galactica, because the holiday show had been her first major job for a real label, and she had her fingers crossed about walking for them during fashion week, hoping she’d done enough to prove herself.

She glanced towards Courtney once again, standing with Bianca and Miss Fame and what looked like a whole group of their high-roller friends, including the supermodel, Raven, who Tati still couldn’t believe she’d worked with. (Not that they’d exchanged two words, but even being in the same backstage area as her had been exciting.)

Tati knew that she should probably go over and say hi, but you couldn’t pay her to interrupt that group. Although from the look on Courtney’s face, she might have welcomed the interruption--poor girl looked stressed, clinging to Bianca’s hand for dear life.

Max followed her gaze, chuckling to himself. “Courtney’s new girlfriend is certainly a good person to know.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve met her before and I don’t think I left a very big impression. Although to be fair, she was real busy eye-fucking Courtney the whole time.”

Max laughed some more at that and said, “That sounds about accurate.”

Finally, Courtney glanced back in Tati’s direction, her eyes lighting up when she saw her. She leaned in, murmuring something into Bianca’s ear, then came bounding towards Tati, a relieved expression on her face.

“Augh, you look so fucking pretty!” Tati squealed, pulling Courtney in for a tight hug.

“Look who’s talking, golden goddess!” Courtney cried, taking her whole ensemble in, then turning to Max to add, “Hi Max, how are you?”

“I’m well, thanks,” Max said, picking up his camera again and snapping a shot of the two of them, Courtney on her tiptoes. “I should probably leave you ladies to catch up. Have a lovely evening.”

“Bye!”

“I love these shoes!” Tati said, spinning Courtney around.

“Thank you, they’re Bianca’s,” Courtney said, beaming up at her.

“So...how’s that all going? Are you having fun?”

“Tonight?” Courtney asked, smile fading, the look on her face betraying exactly how much fun she was not having. “Tonight’s been...interesting. I mean she’s amazing. And walking the red carpet together was just the most exciting moment of my whole life.”

“Aww…” Tati grinned, then asked, “...but?”

“But...her friends are...not quite in favor of it. I think they think she could do better.”

“Fuck them! You’re a goddamn catch.”

“Thank you,” Courtney giggled, then waved to someone excitedly. “Oh! There’s Alaska! She’s the best, she’s in charge of the makeup department and she told me they’re gonna be casting the next campaign in January. Let’s go say hi!”

“I love you…” Tati said, letting Courtney pull her over to a striking blonde woman in a blue gown with sky-high heels and even higher hair.

Tati stood up straight, hoping to make a good impression, but their exchange with Alaska was quickly cut short when a swarm of people flocked over to hammer Courtney with questions about her scandalous date.

“Are you guys actually a couple?”

“Is Miss Fame mad?”

“How long has it been going on?”

“Are the rumors true?”

Courtney laughed, taking the questions in stride and giving very diplomatic answers along with a few knowing winks, finally able to loosen up and have fun.

***

Shangela loved the annual Christmas party. Sure, it was a pain to put together, Fame’s attention to detail and demand for perfection almost impossible to keep up with, and yet, they managed it every single year, the result always worth it.

“Mmh!” Rita moaned, her eyes closed. “God, this gelato is magnificent!” The HR director was dressed in a sparkly blue suit, her hair twisted in a tight updo.

“Do you two want a room?” Jaida raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed, her white nails tapping against her brown skin. She was dressed in glittery royal purple, and looked like a million bucks.

“Do not be jealous of those of us who have chosen comfort over beauty,” Rita smiled, her accent coming out. “You might be skinny, but I, I have gelato.”

Shangela snorted, Jaida hitting Rita’s shoulder and leaning in for a taste.

“Guys!” Shangela looked out on the dance floor, Kiara standing there with her arms over her head decked out in sparkling gold, Laganja next to her in gorgeous yellow. “Get on out here!”

“Come on!” Laganja cupped her mouth, “or are you scared you can’t shake it?!”

“Ugh!” Shangela gasped, holding a hand to her chest. “Girl you did not just say that to my face! Move aside!”

***

Bianca loved her friends, but she knew how intense and judgmental they could be, and so she was glad to see Courtney finally having fun on the dance floor with Tati. She smiled slightly to herself, watching as Courtney twirled and laughed--the lowkey shade she’d gracefully endured earlier seemingly forgotten.

She turned back to the group, catching Fame’s eye and giving her what she hoped was her most charming smile. Fame narrowed her eyes slightly, lips pursed, and Bianca sidled up to her, putting an arm around her waist.

“So on a scale of 1 to 10...how mad are you?” Bianca asked softly.

“A 7.” Fame’s voice was cold, but she didn’t push on Bianca’s arms, didn’t try to wiggle out of her embrace.

“I’ll take that,” Bianca laughed, a moment of relief fluttering in her chest.

“You know I hate being blindsided,” Fame told her.

“I know, I know...but be honest. If I’d called you and told you that I was bringing her, what would you have said?”

“I’d have said the same thing I told you a month ago.” Fame looked at her, her blue-gray eyes filled with annoyance. “Absolutely not. Stay away from my staff, and for damn sure don’t bring them anywhere near a red carpet.”

“Exactly.”

Fame rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Bianca, but not making any move to get away from her gasp. She was definitely peeved, and wanted Bianca to know, but they’d be okay. And Bianca had no doubt that once her friends realized that her relationship with Courtney was serious--and even better, than it was making her so absolutely happy--they’d all get on board.

Bianca leaned in and pressed a kiss to Fame’s cheek, then inquired, “Still a 7?”

Fame gave her some side eye before admitting, “Maybe a six and a half.”

“Hey, progress!” Bianca said, clinking their glasses together, Fame not pulling away which Bianca took as another win. “That’s barely more than usual.”

“If you ever,” Fame pointed at Bianca, champagne twirling around in her glass, “pull something like this again,” Fame’s voice was firm and hard, a warning tone in it that left no room for arguments. “I might not be so forgiving.”

“So you’re saying don’t propose at your Spring runway show?” Bianca asked, a mischievous grin deepening her dimples.

“Bianca, that’s not funny,” Fame sighed, exasperation radiating from her and Bianca laughed, hugging her tight. “If I thought you’d still be together in February, you’d be on very thin ice right now.”

“Good one, blondie,” Bianca said. Given the circumstances, she decided it was better to let her have that one.

***

Courtney had never liked her coworkers more than tonight, on the dance floor. She was so used to seeing everyone in their serious, professional modes, but getting tipsy and a bit silly with them was a much-needed reprieve.

However, as much fun as it was, her eyes kept getting pulled towards Bianca, and her dimples, and the hand that was wrapped around her glass that Courtney wished was wrapped around her thigh. At one point, she glanced over to find Bianca gazing back at her, tingles rushing up her spine as their eyes met.

She smiled slowly, giving her best hair toss and bedroom eyes, hips moving in a slow, lazy circle. Then, for good measure, just to really hammer the message home, she took her fingers and slid them slowly up her thigh, lifting her skirt ever so slightly.

Bianca’s expression barely changed, but Courtney was watching closely enough to detect the slight quirk of her eyebrow, the smile tugging on her lips. She also saw Bianca’s eyes flick over to the exit, then back to her, and gave the faintest nod of agreement.

“Tati? Would you hate me if I took off?”

“What?” Tati yelled over the music, laughing as Bob took her hand and spun her in a circle. “No, go get laid, girl. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

And with one last air kiss, Courtney headed for the door, nearly skipping towards the exit.

Bianca took longer than her to extricate herself from her friend group, and by the time she made it out to the lobby, Courtney was already waiting, posed, leaning against a table covered in poinsettias.

Bianca threw open the door, striding towards her quickly, taking her face into her hands and kissing her hungrily. When she pulled away, she was already breathing hard, one hand wrapped around Courtney’s waist, the other tangled in her hair.

“Did you have fun in there?”

“It was alright,” Bianca murmured, lips trailing down her jaw. “Fuck, why didn’t I get a hotel room for us?”

“Um, because you live four blocks away?” Courtney ventured as her eyes fell closed.

“Four long, endless blocks,” Bianca moaned softly, fingers gripping her waist tighter.

“Come on…” Courtney giggled, pushing off from the table and heading for the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

***

“Uh!” Pearl’s eyes widened as she swallowed, an explosion of deliciousness in her mouth. She reached down, stabbing another piece of the passion fruit mousse on her fork. She had spotted Violet sitting by herself, her friend clearly not having a good time, so Pearl had done what any great bro would do, which was kidnap her, the two of them now tucked away in the darkest corner she could find.

“Try this one Vivi!”

“What?” Violet looked at her like she was crazy, a raspberry tart on her half of the plate and Pearl couldn’t help but laugh. Their legs were intertwined, the seat they had taken not nearly big enough for two adults. Pearl had grabbed them a plate of the teeny tiny desserts that had been put out, the treats resting on Pearl’s thigh and Violet’s skirt.

“Come on,” Pearl grinned, raising the fork, “Here comes the airplane.”

“You’re insane,” Violet laughed, the frown of her beautiful face completely gone.

“Open wide!” Pearl moved the fork forward, making an airplane noise, Violet hitting her hand to get it away from her face.

“Pearl!” Violet cried, outrage in her voice, even though she was still laughing, their plate almost toppling over, Pearl popping the bite in her own mouth.

“I’ll get you next time.” Pearl wiggled her brows, swallowing the mousse down.

“Please,” Violet sounded exasperated, but she was adorable when she was upset, Pearl knowing few things that were more fun than ruffling Violet’s feathers. Pearl was just about to go for Violet’s raspberry tart, stealing it a surefire way to get into another play fight, when she saw light coming out of Violet’s clutch.

“Umh, Vivi?” Pearl pointed to the ground, “Your bag is glowing.”

“Shit!” Violet’s eyes widened, and she lunged for her clutch, nearly tipping over the plate as she fished her phone out.

***

“Fuck!” Courtney exclaimed, Bianca all but hurling her onto the bed, her dress tossed to the floor the second they’d stepped off the elevator.

Courtney was already on edge from the ride home, Bianca driving her absolutely nuts in the backseat of the town car, sucking wet kisses into her neck, toying with the little decorative buttons on the front of her panties. She sprawled on the bed, legs danging over the side, looking up wild-eyed at Bianca standing above her, tugging her down by the skirt.

“Please, B...”

“Please what, angel?” Bianca asked, flashing her a wicked smirk as she slowly knelt down between her legs.

“I...I…”

“I love these practical undies,” Bianca said, fingers trailing over the edge of Courtney’s gray, boy-cut panties. She dipped her head, teeth pulling at the little buttons, the pressure against Courtney’s clit even better than it had been in the car, immediately making her grasp the covers in her fists.

“I love seeing you all wet like this, baby.” Bianca nuzzled into the front of her panties, then began to kiss down her thigh.

“So wet,” Courtney echoed, thrusting her hips up, begging, “Take them off, please.”

Bianca pressed one more kiss to her inner thigh, then began to slide her panties down. She let go of the covers, hands going to her tits, playing with her nipples to release some of the pressure building up in her abdomen.

“In a hurry?” Bianca teased, lips ghosting over her.

“I need…”

“What do you need, angel? Tell me,” Bianca urged, nibbling gently on her thigh, mouth moving higher. “Tell me.”

“You tongue…” she whined, not caring how needy and strung-out she must have seemed.

“Uh huh...where?” Bianca licked her, so gently she thought she might scream, right at the crease of her thigh.

Courtney let out an impatient, strangled moan, pinching her nipples hard, hips rolling faster now. She could feel Bianca’s hot breath against her, and all she wanted was that mouth, that tongue, but words were failing her. The only thing she could manage was a gasping litany of, “Please please please please…”

It seemed to work, though, Bianca swirling a tongue over her, finally, strong hands holding her shaking legs apart. Her body responded fully to every generous touch, arching up, whimpers turning soon to full-throated moans.

***

“You know,” Sutan reached out, closing the cab door, Violet’s crutches against his chest as the car pulled out, juggling everything while tipsy a huge pain. “I can’t wait for these,” Sutan moved his arm, the crutches clacking, “to be obsolete.”

It had taken forever to find Violet, her phone going to voicemail the first three times he had tried it, and while he wasn’t proud of it, it had taken a few deep breaths not to panic.

Apparently, the vibration on it had died months ago, the fact that he had a 23 year old girlfriend who actually had the sound turned on on her phone in her everyday life deeply bizarre.

“I’m sorry that me getting around is such a huge inconvenience for you.” Violet was leaning back into the seat, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll tell my broken bones to hurry up.”

Sutan realised how stupid he had just been, Violet’s struggle so much grater than the hassle he felt.

“Sorry.” He went for an apologetic smile, hoping it was clear on his face that he meant it. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Mmh?” Violet looked over at him, and Sutan put her crutches down against the window, hoping that they’d stay in place.

“Yes mmh.” He moved closer, their driver ignoring them completely as his hand touched Violet’s knee, his arm sneaking around the back seat, boxing her in. “Can you forgive me?”

“Hmm,” Violet hummed, the sweet lavender scent that had become synonymous with her filling his nose, the prettiest blush dusted over her cheeks. “I’ll consider it.”

“Good,” Sutan grinned, “because I am very, very, very sorry.”

“Oh god,” Violet rolled her eyes, a chuckle leaving her. “You absolute idiot.” She reached out, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss, their lips touching as Sutan pressed her against the car door, their trip home a lot more interesting now.

***

“Go go go go!” Alaska laughed, clapping her hands together as Kandy and Ivy slammed back shots. Most of the non-staff guests had left by then, staying once the cameras had disappeared not that interesting. It was, of course, the best part of the night, as the lights went down and the bass turned up.

“Yeees!” Alaska cheered as Ivy finished the 5th shot and slammed the glass down seconds before Kandy.

“Everybody!” Shangela grabbed Ivy’s hand, “We have a winner!” She thrusted it into the air, making everyone laugh, and Alaska felt like she was flying high.

She grabbed her vodka soda, looking around the room, only just spotting Kim Chi who was bent over  a couch, drawing a moustache with lipstick on Amy who had passed out. As their boss, Alaska had a fleeting concern, wondering if she should intervene, but then shrugged, realizing how hilarious it was, and turned back to Shangela to take another shot.

[mypassionsarenysins]

Not Yours, But His.

Sam Wilson x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (One Sided)

Author’s Note: Just something I’d been rattling in my brain. 

When Steve Rogers married Sharon Carter he imagined he would eventually be happy, that it was what he needed in his life. 

Why had he ask Sharon to marry him?

Steve liked Sharon, don’t get him wrong, but in the core of the marriage it was the pressure. 

The pressure that he was old and he needed a companion. 

Steve thought he was in love with Peggy, he later realized that it was just a deep infatuation that went away as he settled in the future. 

Then he met Sharon and in his desperation and the fear of being alone he gave her his life, and now he regrets it deeply. 

It all started when on a Saturday night he had the boys over. 

Bucky was talking about how good his relationship with Nat was going and then he heard the name that would be haunting Steve forever. 

 “I have a girl now,” Sam says as he looks dreamy. 

“Makes sense,” Bucky brushes it off.

“What you mean metal man” Sam throws him an angry look while Steve just smiles at his two idiots. 

“It’s that stupid face you’ve had for the past couple of months,” Bucky laughs an throws a pillow at his face. 

As the start throwing pillows Steve intervenes.

“Okay okay, what’s her name?” Steve asks as Bucky sticks his tounge out. 

Sam smiles and sighs. 

“Her name is (Y/N), and she’s honestly the best thing thats ever happened to me.

“Well I’m happy for you,” Bucky says as he hugs Sam and they start fighting again. 

After that day Steve didn’t make a big deal about Sam’s girlfriend thinking it was just a casual thing, but oh was Steve wrong.

It was Sam’s birthday a couple of months after Sam talked about you and Steve and Sharon where invited to a dinner celebrating the falcon. 

It was in a nice upscale restaurant they usually went on special occasions. 

The day had been ruined since they got into a big argument that had been happening for a whole year. 

Steve wanted kids, Sharon didn’t. 

It wasn’t working, Steve should’ve waited for that person that was gonna fill his life, that was going to make him whole. 

He was trapped in a hopeless marriage that he didn’t want to keep, still feeling trapped as America’s golden boy the last thing he wanted was to leave his wife, hurt her in any way. 

And then he met her. 

The girl Sam wouldn’t stop talking about and now he knew why. 

He felt like his life was interrupted by a shocking woman walking in with her arm around one of his best friends. 

She interrupted his life with her amazing beauty and then he looked at her eyes, so sure, so beautiful, like she was looking through him. 

You looked so happy in his arms and Steve wondered, for a brief moment, if you were happy with him or pretending like he was pretending with Sharon. 

Then you leaned and kissed him softly smiling at him, and in that moment his heart broke and he didn’t even know it. 

“Thank you all for coming,” Sam says loudly as he hugs his girl. 

“And I specially want to thank (Y/N) for organizing all of this.” He says as he kisses you and you smile hiding in his neck. 

He curses at the way your name slipped lovingly from Sam’s lips.

“We also have to make a special announcement,” you say as you extend your left hand and show your fourth finger decorated with a beautiful, yet simple diamond ring. 

Steve’s eyes widen and the pit in his stomach overtakes his feeling confusing him completely. 

He’s never met you before and yet here you are taking over every sense in his body making him desire things he’d never desired before. 

He felt like he was playing a game pretending to live a life that did not belong to him.  

He had everything people assumed he needed, a talented wife, a beautiful home, and a very successful career as the director of the Avengers. 

And yet his life was sad and bland. 

He had no real spark. 

He wasn’t adventurous like Bucky or charming and outgoing like Sam. 

He thought that quiet and establish was what he needed. 

And now here he is looking at you and Sam on how in love you are. 

You where loud and exuding a happiness that he would never know. 

As people congratulate you, he and Sharon approach you and Sam. 

“Congratulations guys, (Y/N) is really amazing Sam,” Sharon says as she hugs Steve keeping the facade. 

“Don’t I know it,” Sam says as he looks at you softly and you smile pecking his lips. 

You turn to Steve, “It’s nice to finally meet you Captain Rogers,” you say softly looking at him with a smile. 

Steve’s whole body goes rigid dropping his hand from Sharon’s waist. 

“It’s Steve and the pleasure is mine,” He says softly taking your much smaller hand into yours. 

You smile at him and the only thing he wanted to do was keep your eyes on him when you turned to Sam and smirked at him.

“So, how have you been Sharon?” You ask Sharon and this surprises Steve. 

“I’ve been good, you know missions can be tough, but we work them out,” Sharon says as she forces her hand into Steve’s. 

“I didn’t know you knew Sharon,” Steve says rejecting Sharon’s wandering hand. 

“That’s how we met,” Sam says with pride in his eyes as he winks at you and you giggle cuddling further in his arms. 

“(Y/N) is the head of the International Affairs of SHIELD,” Sam says proudly making her hide her face. 

“That’s great (Y/N),” Steve says with a small smile. 

“It’s okay just talking a lot with foreign intelligence agencies,” You shrug as you turn and see Bucky and Nat arriving and you giggle at the sight of Bucky leaving Nat dramatically. 

“We should go say hi,” you smile and turn to Sam to see him rolling his eyes at Bucky.

“Yeah, yeah, see you around guys,” Sam says as he takes your arm and you giggle about something about stealing Nat away from Bucky or something. 

Steve just looks lost for a moment and Sharon clears her throat. 

“Don’t even think about it, Steve.” Sharon says seriously as she starts to walk away. 

Steve frowns and follows his wife. 

“What are you talking about?” He questions sternly. 

“You know, the way your eyes shined when you met her, don’t get any ideas?” Sharon says sternly. 

“Why because she will make me happier than you,” Steve says angrily. 

“No you arrogant man. Sam loves her, she loves Sam, they’ve helped each other.” Sharon says with tears in her eyes. 

Steve just stands there in shock. 

“I know you don’t really love me and it kills me because I did Steve, but this is not gonna work. You keep looking for some soulmate, for this magical person. First you thought it was Aunt Peggy, then you thought maybe Nat could bring you joy, and then you settled for me.” She says in tears. 

“You keep living this fantasy that someone else is going to fulfill whatever hole you think you have, but it won’t.” Sharon says as she keeps her distance. 

“But (Y/N), she’s such a Wonderfull human being, I love her, the team loves her, but mostly Sam loves her and she loves him. They’ve worked so hard to be this happy.” Sharon says as you wave at her and she starts walking away. 

Steve just stands there and looks down at his left hand with the glistening gold band staring at him making his guilt and unhappiness of this situation. 

Was Sharon right, was he just after a dream that might never come true. 

“What’s up?” Bucky says scaring Steve who deeply lost in thought. 

“Nothing,” Steve says seriously, looking down at the floor. 

“Steve I think I know you better than that,” Bucky sighs. 

“I just think that (Y/N) is beautiful,” Steve says with a sigh finally looking up at his friend.

“That she is, birdbrain is a lucky man.” Bucky says with a smile. 

“I feel like she is the one Buck,” Steve sighs his eyes find you who are laughing at something Sam whispers on your ear. 

“You don’t really mean that Steve, and even if that where the case she might be the one for you, but you are not the one for her.” Bucky says seriously. 

“You don’t mean that,” Steve says with hurt in his voice. 

“I mean it Steve. You don’t spend that much time with us anymore, you will always be my friend Steve, but Sam is my partner now and I know how hard he worked to get with (Y/N).” Bucky sighs as he looks at Steve. 

“I love you Steve, but believe it or not I also love Sam. After you retired he got my back, and honestly I have his.” Bucky said seriously. 

“You know she saved him.” Bucky says as he nods toward you and Sam. 

“What you mean?” Steve asks with curiosity ion his voice. 

“After the snap we weren’t the same, after Thanos, Steve it was bad. You went and retired, but Sam and I had to keep the world under control. Then comes this wonderful girl that bought light not only to his life, but mine also. She saved our life, helped me find the courage to get with Nat.” Bucky says as he smiles at the end of his little speech. 

“I don’t know what to do Buck,” Steve says still looking at you. 

“Let it go Steve, you always tend to make up these fantasies in your head that will change your life, sometimes it works like when you did with the army. But you gotta let her be happy with Sam.” Bucky says. 

Bucky walks away and in that moment Steve feels heavy like his feet are glued to the floor. 

In that moment his fantasies of you die and break like a glass. 

“Hey man you okay?” Sam asks and Steve turns to see his friend with a concerned look. 

“Yeah just getting over something,” Steve shrugs and smiles. 

“You know I never thought she’d fall for someone like,” Sam says as he looks at you laughing with Nat and Buck. 

“What you mean?” Steve asks questioning. 

“When I met her she was such a bright shine in the middle of this dreary life, that I never thought that she’d look at me,” Sam responds his eyes still on you. 

“I thought she’d end up with someone like you, someone more deserving than me,” Sam sighs finally looking over to Steve. 

“But then she opened her heart to me, and wether I deserve it or not, she’s mine and I’m hers,” Sam says as he starts walking away. 

“You know Sharon really loves you, maybe you guys should talk to a professional, you can be happy with her you know?” Sam asks and smiles walking back to you. 

Steve thinks hard about what Sam just said. 

He thought about how everyone struggles with love. 

He looked at you and Sharon hugging and decided that maybe opening up to his wife would be the way to go, but in the very back of his mind the thought of you never left, and maybe it would never leave. 

My Chaos Tag: @honeybucks @honeyvbarnes @stuckonjbbarnes   @valkyriesryde @babiiface95 @mrwinterr @buckysmischief   @mushyjellybeans @stateoflovinged @sunmoonandbucky​ @thinkoutsidethebex​ @poppunkdork​ @sleepingspacedragon​ 

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

Headstrong

Part Three

Summary: After moving past the locker room incident, Bucky and Haven continue on with training for an upcoming fight.  Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC Word Count: 1895 Warnings: Angst; discussion of cancer, amputation, infidelity, drunk driving, car accident and related injuries.  A/N: Taglist is open, you can be added to the one for this fic or Buckvember simply by sending an ask. Happy Reading!

Series Masterlist

Right after dinner, Haven put on a touch of makeup, smoothed out her shorts and t-shirt, and slipped into a pair of sneakers before telling Wes she was going out for a little bit. 

When she entered the bar, she looked around for Bucky; he raised his right arm to get her attention at a booth toward the back of the place. She waved an acknowledgement, stopping at the counter to order a drink for herself before she joined him. 

“Thanks for meeting me,” she started, sliding into the booth. “After this morning … honestly, I wanted to forget everything about it, but Wes said it’s probably best not to ignore it and let tension build up.”

Bucky nodded. “Sure, I can understand that. I hope you know, Haven, it was truly an honest mistake. I wasn’t paying attention, I’ve never been there before. It won’t happen again.”

“Thank you,” she replied, smiling softly. “I know it was a mistake — I was never worried about that. I wasn’t exactly gracious in my reaction, but you caught me off guard. I apologize for that.”

“No apology necessary.”

Her drink arrived. She thanked the waitress and took a few sips before continuing. “And I want to apologize for the way I declined your lunch invitation. We’re going to be working together closely and often, but I thought if I kept things more professional than I did with my last coach … it’s a self-preservation thing, I guess. I let things go too far with him, let it become personal. Too personal, and it almost cost me my career.”

Bucky assured her that he could understand. “Boxing was the most important thing to me, and it was taken away. Turns out, it takes two flesh arms to stay in the ring. I got lost for a while, hid away — I’m sure you heard about that. I’m pushing myself, taking this job and getting back into the business in any form. What I’m trying to say, Haven, is that we don’t have be best friends or anything, but, besides all the work together we’ll be doing, we’ve got some things in common. There’s going to be a personal note to our relationship, but even that doesn’t have to cross professional lines.”

“Thank you,” Haven told him quietly. The tension in her shoulders released and she continued to sip at her drink. She wanted to tell him more, but the words wouldn’t come. Something she was doing was giving her away because a few seconds later, Bucky’s warm fingers covered hers. 

“When you’re ready to talk about the rest of it, we can. There’s no rush.”

Haven pulled her hand out from under his. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They finished off those drinks, and Haven paid the tab for both of them. They bid each other goodbye with a wave in the lot and went their separate ways. 

For a couple of weeks, they kept things what Bucky called casually professional. They didn’t see each other outside of the gym again, he was extra careful about which locker room he went into at the end of each session, and he didn’t push her for any personal information. He didn't offer any, either. 

Haven was getting stronger and more ready for a fight by the day. They hadn’t been training together long, but Bucky could see she was chomping at the bit to compete. Her punches were coming harder and faster when he called out combos, their sparring sessions were becoming more intense. 

“There’s a fight in Los Angeles at the end of the month,” Bucky informed the siblings one afternoon after he and Haven had showered, and Wes was able to join them in the gym. “I think Haven can be ready by then. The other fighter on the card, Helen Cho, is also a newer pro and, from my research, I think she and Haven will be a good match.”

“You really think I’ll be ready?”

Bucky nodded with enthusiasm. “Without a doubt. Honestly, I’d put you in the ring against this girl today, if we had to. You’re a natural boxer and your lighter training while you recovered probably helped you to stay on track. What do you think?”

Haven looked at Wes, who nodded. “All right. I’m in.”

“Great,” Bucky smiled. “We’ll get you on the card and start training harder over the next couple of weeks. I want to be in Los Angeles a few days before the fight to do some training in their weather, get your body adapted to it.”

The next task was to contact the right people, find a flight and a hotel, and work out a temporary training schedule. They talked about nutrition, too; all of them wanted Haven in top fighting condition so her first pro fight could be a win. 

While Bucky put the finishing touches on the training schedule, Haven and Wes quietly argued about something by the door. Wes finally won out after a few minutes, it seemed, and left the gym. Haven huffed, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. Bucky wouldn’t have been surprised if she stomped her foot for effect. 

“Coach, do you have some time to talk before you leave,” Haven asked, blurting it out as a statement and not a question. 

Bucky nodded and motioned for her to join him in the ring. They both sat on the edge of the ring, their legs hanging over. Haven leaned forward on the ropes. Bucky kicked his legs with his hands in his lap, patiently waiting for whatever it was she had to say. When two minutes passed and she hadn’t said anything, Bucky decided maybe it would be easier for her to open up to him if he opened up to her first. 

“Right after I won my last title, I couldn’t shake the pain in my left arm,” Bucky began. “I did three more fights and it just got worse every time. Finally let my trainer convince me to get it checked out. Doc did x-rays and found a mass on my humerus.”

Haven frowned. “Cancer?”

“Cancer,” Bucky echoed. “It could have been removed and maybe beat with chemo, but I let it go on too long. I didn't want to hear that whatever was happening would end my career, but it did anyway. They had to take the arm, or it would have taken my life.”

“I’m so sorry, Buck.”

He smiled, both in gratitude for her empathy and because she hadn’t called him Coach. “The upside, I guess, is that being a prize fighter puts you in line for cutting-edge technology like this.” He flexed his prosthetic arm and a light whizzing came from inside the thing. “I can’t fight but I can function. And I’m alive.”

She sniffled, and Bucky could see that her eyes had glazed over. “Do you ever get angry that you can’t compete anymore?”

“Sometimes,” he confessed. 

She leaned back on both arms. “I was so angry when I thought my career would be over. Punched a hole in the wall in my bedroom one day because I got so angry.” She looked up to the ceiling, so Bucky kept his eyes on his hands in his lap. “Brock Rumlow was my coach from the very beginning. I was training at this gym in town, straight out of high school, not even sure if I wanted to do this for real, and he was new to coaching. He told me I had potential, so my dad and Wes went all in. They built this gym, and the three of them got me into the amateur league. Brock was a good coach, until he wasn’t. A few years ago, we started dating. It was always there, somewhat, I guess, despite the age difference, but we decided to make a real go of it.”

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line. He fought Brock Rumlow when they both were amateur fighters and knew about Brock’s reputation, but this wasn’t the time to comment on that — especially when he didn't know how much Haven was aware of. 

“Besides coaching me, Brock had a management agency that he owned. It went under, and Brock lost his mind. He was drinking all the time, sleeping around. I was so concentrated on getting my pro bid, I ignored all of it.

“We were coming home from a party one night though, and Brock had been drinking. We were arguing about the cheating — I’d had enough, I guess, and I wasn’t exactly sober. The argument really escalated and Brock lost control of the car.” She drew in a deep breath, staring ahead as though the images were playing in front of her. “The car rolled a few times, crashed against a light pole. How we managed to keep that out of the news, I’ll never know.”

Bucky scooted closer, covering one of her hands with his metal hand; she didn’t even wince or pull away. “How extensive were your injuries?”

“Ironically, I broke my left arm right about where you said your cancer was at. I’ve got a rod and a plate supporting it now. Bruised kidney, shattered spleen.”

“You’re lucky that’s all you made it out with.”

Haven paused, then nodded. “Yeah. I am. Anyway, after that, I told myself that I would keep boxing and my personal life separate. I wouldn’t ever again make the mistake that I made with Rum with anyone else.” She turned to look at him. “This fight, this championship you think I have a shot at — all of that means the world to me. I want to come back strong. I don’t want to be the girl who almost lost her shot because she dated her coach and it came back to bite her in the ass.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, shaking a finger at her, “as your coach, it’s my job not to let anyone bite you in the ass.”

She laughed, and Bucky found that he quite liked the sound. “Well, thanks, I appreciate it. I mean, I think I’ve got a pretty nice ass and bite marks would just ruin the image.”

“I’ve seen it,” Bucky reminded her, “and — not to overstep — but bite marks or not, Haven, you do, in fact, have a nice ass.”

That made her laugh even harder and painted her cheeks with a blush he hadn’t seen since the day of his interview. She swatted at him playfully, but Bucky dodged out of the way, slipping out of the ring with Haven not far behind him. 

He waited with her while she shut down the lights in the gym and locked up the building. She walked with him to the front of the house where he was parked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Starting to get chilly at night,” Bucky commented. 

“Yeah, it is.”

Bucky fished his keys from his pocket, wanting for some reason to linger in their goodbye. “Running tomorrow morning?”

Haven gave him a thumb’s up. “Bright and early.”

“I’ll see you then. G’night, Haven.”

“Night, Bucky.”

She had skipped the ‘Coach’ bit again; Bucky wondered if she even realized she had done that. He got into his car and pulled out of the driveway, waving goodbye one more time to Haven before turning his eyes to the road. 

Headstrong: @disastersoldierbucky @ashleymalfoy @amanda-teaches @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @tanelle83 @tellmewhatyouwill @capandbuckylvr @pinknerdpanda @ntlmundy @siggy85 @itsallyscorner @m-blasterrr @just-the-hiddles​

Buckvember: @peace-love-hobbitness​ @disastersoldierbucky​ @connie326​ @rebekahdawkins​ @wonder-cole​ @shynara51​

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Hurts A Little Less

Summary:  Bucky knew he was never at his best. But you were a constant, helping him on the days where things were difficult. 

Features/Warnings: Minor angst; mentions of Bucky’s trauma 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Notes: Based off of ‘Hurts to Know’ by 1551, which I highly recommend you listen to while reading. Spot the Hallmark Channel reference 😂

Word Count: 2394

He stood, staring blankly out the window. The sun was shining, but you knew a darkness was battling inside. You stood by him, day in and day out. The line between friends and more had blurred a long time ago. You sighed as you stood from where you sat on the couch, heading for the kitchen. 

You loved him, more than you loved anyone before. You had been down that road before, thinking you could fix someone, heal them. You knew you couldn’t. It wasn’t a healthy mentality to have. He wasn’t a broken toy. He was a human being, one who had been through unimaginable things. You knew the only thing you could do was make sure he knew you were there, that you cared, that you loved him. You couldn’t fight that battle for him, as much as you wished you could. It was the one battle he had to face one on one. At the end of the day, when the fighting became too much, you would be there to hold him, to support him, but you weren’t the one healing him. No. That was something he had to take charge of. 

He stood, staring blankly out the window. Thoughts swirled around his head. Every failure. Every life he had taken. In startling clarity. The Starks hit hardest, especially now that he had worked through that trauma with Tony. It had taken multiple counseling sessions for them to reach an understanding, to reach common ground. It had surprisingly been Tony’s idea. 

“If we’re going to work together, you and I have problems to resolve and Pepper has informed me that punching you repeatedly is not a productive way of resolving our issues,” Tony said. Bucky looked at him with an unreadable expression.

“Buck?” you asked, looking at him with concern. 

“What’s the catch? You would’ve killed me if Steve had let you,” Bucky said. Tony glared at him.

“You killed my parents. I think I’m entitled to a bit of anger. You in or not? Because we’re not going on missions until we resolve this because no one trusts that we won’t kill one another,” Tony said. 

“Okay,” Bucky said, stunning everyone in the room. Tony opened his mouth, prepared to continue arguing his case.

“Wait...you agreed?” Tony asked. Bucky nodded. Dr. Thornton had been telling him he needed to start working through accepting his past. She had been encouraging him to work things through with Tony if Tony approached him. Elizabeth Thornton was a force to be reckoned with. Her husband had been a SHIELD agent, close to Fury. She worked with the children and adults involved with the Avengers initiative now. 

“Well, alright then,” Tony said.

Their sessions had been filled with tension to start. You were the one constant, always there like his own Northern star, guiding him home again, back to some sense of stability. You gave him space to breathe, to exist, to process. Steve was well meaning, but his oldest friend could be overbearing at times with his need to check in on Bucky. Sam, as much as Bucky hated to admit it, had been a help there. Reminding Steve that Bucky needed to adjust on his own terms. You were different. 

You were a quiet person, in his periphery from the day he set foot in the compound after he was cleared and the Accords were thrown out. You didn’t give him looks of pity. You didn’t crowd his space. You would enter a room and sit down in his line of vision. Sometimes you had a book, other times some sort of handheld device, what he had learned was a Switch. You were there, existing in the same space, but giving him his. 

The dark days had outnumbered the good days back then. And when it was dark, it felt like no light could break through. Like he would never be able to move forward. And then you’d ask him a question, something off the wall. At first he wouldn’t respond. He wanted to be left alone. God, did he want to be left alone. But you persisted. If it wasn’t an off the wall question, you’d launch into a story about the team, about your childhood, anything that came to your mind. Slowly it had gone from an annoyance to something he looked forward to, something that pulled him away from the dark turn his thoughts constantly took. He remembered the day he told Dr. Thornton about you.

“How have you been since the last time I saw you?” she asked. Bucky was quiet for a moment, looking around the familiar office. Her desk had a photo of her with a group of people, friends from home, he guessed. She came from a small town in the Pacific Northwest, Hope Valley. 

“I don’t know. There’s this agent. And she’s annoying,” he said, a small smile on his face. Elizabeth kept her expression neutral, writing something down. It was the first time she’d seen him smile about something that wasn’t long since passed. It was progress. He launched into a rant about you.

“But she’s real nice. Doesn’t make me try to talk like Steve. Don’t get me wrong, he’s like my brother...but...he can be overbearing,” Bucky said.

“And how’s your relationship with Sam?” she asked. At this, Bucky laughed. It was a rare sound. Elizabeth wrote that down too. He might not have seen it himself, but James Buchanan Barnes had made progress since the first day in her office. He was starting to let the walls down for someone who wasn’t Steve Rogers. She knew you well. You popped in from time to time, sometimes after a difficult mission, other times because you needed to talk. 

When Bucky left his appointment that afternoon, he had a soft smile on his face and you on his mind. 

Bucky was pulled from his thoughts by your voice. He turned to see you sitting on the couch, two mugs of hot chocolate with extra whipped cream in front of you. 

“I think today is a favorites kind of day, what do you think, Buck?” you asked him, a small smile on your face. He nodded. 

“I think that’s a great idea, doll,” he said, his voice low. You still heard him. He made his way over to you, picking up his mug. You had learned since meeting Bucky that sometimes on his bad days, if you gave him choices on low effort things, it helped him. There were days where he wanted to be left alone entirely. On those days, you would make sandwiches for him and leave them in a container on his desk in his room after making sure he took his medication. What you would do after varied. Sometimes it was shopping with Natasha and Wanda. Other times you would sit and talk with Steve for a while or resort to baking if you wanted to be alone. If it wasn’t baking, you would sit and journal, occasionally checking in on Bucky through FRIDAY, something he had given you permission to do. 

“Can we order pizza? And mozzarella sticks?” Bucky asked quietly. You nodded. It was one of the things Bucky had slowly adjusted to. Being his own person again. Having agency and making decisions for himself. He had had time to start adjusting while he was recovering in Wakanda. But coming back to the US had presented new challenges, new decisions to be made, and a society that hadn’t been ready to accept that he was an Avenger until at least part of the truth had come out. 

“FRIDAY can you please order that for us? And two orders of garlic knots,” you said. FRIDAY knew your usual order. 

“The usual then?” the AI asked. 

“Yes please. Thank you,” you said. Bucky stifled a laugh at your manners. You always made sure to say please and thank you to the AI when asking for something. It was something he found endearing. 

“What?” you asked him. 

“Nothing, nothing. Just you,” he said, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. You took a sip of yours, coming away with a whipped cream mustache. He laughed a little before swiping his finger across your upper lip.

“You had a little,” he said, holding up his finger. The two of you got comfortable, turning on a movie he hadn’t seen yet.  As the movie credits started to roll, you looked over at him.

“How have you been sleeping, Buck?” you asked him. He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. The two of you weren’t at the point yet of sharing a room and you had been gone all week on a mission. He always hesitated before telling you when things had been bad. He didn’t want to place that burden on you, no matter how many times you insisted you wanted to know, that he could tell you anything. He was scared. Scared that if he told you some of the things on his mind that you would walk away, even though everything he knew about you told him that wasn’t who you were. 

“Not great. Nightmares,” he said. You nodded. 

“Did you try the tea?” you asked him. It was one of the new things you were trying. Something to help settle him down. Whether it was a placebo effect or not, it had been helping at least a little before you left. 

“Wasn’t the same as when you made it for me,” he said.

“Fair enough,” you said. The two of you sat talking for a bit. He was more relaxed than he had been earlier. As the two of you spoke, you smiled as you thought about how far he had come from those early days. 

A few days later found you sitting on the balcony late in the night. You hadn’t been able to sleep. A sense of something being wrong had settled in and you couldn’t shake it. You drained your cup of tea before checking on Bucky. You were alarmed when FRIDAY told you he was in distress. She usually was on top of letting you know, and if you weren’t there, letting Steve know. 

You barreled into his room to find him hunched over. You sat beside him as his shoulders shook. 

“May I touch you, Bucky?” you asked. He shook his head. 

“Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?” you asked. Again, he shook his head. You stood up and grabbed a bottle of water from where they were stored in the refrigerator and looked around for the other things you needed. It used to be more frequent that he would have nightmares bad enough to shake him like that. More like memories, you had thought. He had said they hadn’t been to that level while you were gone, just bad enough to keep him from wanting to go back to sleep. 

You handed him the bottle of water while you busied yourself in the kitchenette making a cup of tea for him. It was routine now. You never pushed him. He would talk if he was ready. If not to you, then to Dr. Thornton or Steve. If he really didn’t want to talk, he would write about it. It was progress from where he had been when you met him, when the two of you weren’t even friends. Back then he never spoke, unless it was short sentences, and even then it was mostly to Steve. 

You brought him the tea, sitting down beside him. He reached for you after finishing the tea, pulling you on to his lap and into a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him more than he was holding you. 

Bucky’s thoughts were still racing. You were there. You were alive. You were okay. His nightmares had taken a new turn. One that saw you ending up hurt or worse because of him. His biggest fear now was hurting you. He knew he wasn’t perfect. He knew that his trauma would be a lifelong process of working through. He knew that he would never fault you for walking away. But you still hadn’t. You stayed, patiently waiting, listening, helping. You were his reminder that there was still good. It wasn’t you alone, but you were who he was around most.

He saw good in how Wanda would sneak off to volunteer at the children’s hospital, reading to the kids and spending time with them, entertaining them with her magic, a reminder that she wasn’t only a force for destruction. He saw it in how Peter Parker helped out at a local soup kitchen, both in the city and near the compound. Peter Parker, who had taken time to explain to Bucky what the hell a meme was, knowledge that Bucky had one hundred percent weaponized against the team, making them groan on more than one occasion. Bucky saw good in how Natasha spent some of her time off helping victims of abuse, in how Tony had started an actual internship program for students from low income backgrounds. He spent a lot of time watching, observing while lost in his own head. He wasn’t sure the team knew what the others really did in their free time away. None of them ever broadcast those things. But Bucky saw them. It grounded him, in a way. Another beacon of light, of hope.

You felt Bucky slowly start to relax. His arms loosened and you pulled back a little. He was looking at you, a small smile on his face.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?” you asked.

“Everything you do. You don’t have to do the things you do for me, but you do,” he said. You shook your head.

“Because I love you. Our friends love you. And we never want you to forget that you’re loved, Bucky,” you said. He placed a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew the road was long, but with you by his side, with his friends by his side, he knew it would be easier. It would never be easy, life so very rarely was. But if there was one thing James Buchanan Barnes was sure of, it was that he would never be alone, not truly, and that made all the difference. 

[godofplumsandthunder]

Wicked (7/10) - Defying Gravity

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes did many horrendous and evil things. He didn’t felt worthy of love and affection because after all, who could learn to love a monster.

Word Count: 1.8k

Previous Chapter     Masterlist

Just you and I defying gravity. With you and I defying gravity. They'll never bring us down.

The last few weeks have been heaven. Ever since your date in New York City, Bucky has really started to open up with you. You haven't pushed the issue about labels, but if anyone were to ask you, you'd happily say that Bucky was your boyfriend. Bucky started sleeping more in your room than his. Those where the nights he slept better, without nightmares. Other nights, you would receive a notification from F.R.I.D.A.Y. in the middle of the night, requesting you to go to Bucky's room. These were the nights when Bucky would have a nightmare, or as you would later learn, the nightmare. On those nights, Bucky needed to feel your warmth and your heartbeat. He needed to feel your arms around him, reminding him that those dreams are just that, dreams. Those are the hardest nights for you when Bucky can't see his worth. When the true effect of HYDRA shines through. You aren't an Avenger, but you sure as hell want to find every single person responsible for hurting Bucky, and snuff them out, killing the cockroaches that they are.

While most days with Bucky are good days, there were still too many bad days. You wanted Bucky to get better, to feel better, so you pushed him. You were a licensed doctor, who specialized in neuroscience. You could see the symptoms of PTSD from a mile away. So you pushed Bucky into seeing a counselor. It was hard to get him to agree. At times, you forget that Bucky was born in the '30s a completely different era than you. He refused therapy, at first. Talking about how real men didn't talk about their burdens, rather they carried them in silence. You remind him that in today's world, there isn't a stigma of seeking help for one's mental health. He was still reluctant, but you gave him an ultimatum. You told him that you like what is going on between the two of you, whatever you will call it. You want to have a future with him, but you couldn't see yourself having one with him if he refused to seek help and bottle everything in. Thankfully, Bucky's love for you was strong. He would do anything to keep you. So, he reluctantly went to therapy. He tried, but only for you. And it was a good thing for you because Bucky would have to be strong, not for himself, but rather for someone else. Events where in motion that none of you could stop, and it would change both of your lives for ever.

You wake up, bolting out of Bucky's arm, heading for the bathroom. A wave of nausea hit you, and you could feel the occupants of your stomach creeping their way up. You try to vomit quietly, which you learn isn't possible, because Bucky leaves in a few hours for a mission, and you want to let him sleep for as long as he can. But your attempts were for nothing. During your second round of throwing up, you feel your hair being pulled back, and you feel the distinct coolness of Bucky's vibranium arm rubbing circles on your lower back. After a few more bouts of vomiting, you were finally done and slumped against the toilet.

"Y/N, this is the third day that you've been throwing up. I think you might have a stomach bug. Could you please go to the medical center?" Bucky asks you while still rubbing circles on your back, trying to contort you in any way he can.

"Buck, do I need to remind you that I am a doctor? I don't think it's a bug. I think that I probably just ate something off." You try to comfort Bucky and let his anxiety for you lower a bit.

"I'll feel better if you'd go. Please, baby, for me?" Damn it, you think to yourself, how are you suppose to say no those puppy dog eyes of his.  

"Fine, I'll go, just for you. Now, let's go back to sleep. We still have a few hours left," you have Bucky help you up, as you make your way back to bed, to cuddle with Bucky for just a few more hours.

You were never were calm when Bucky went on a mission. Especially now, as you were waiting to see one of your co-workers. You have a hunch about what's going on, but you didn't want to add more stress to Bucky. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what a late period and morning sickness bring. But you want the conformation that only a doctor's visit can bring. Especially before talking with Bucky. You didn't want to spook him over a false positive.

Your co-worker, Dr. Cho, escorted you to an examination room. "What can I help you with, Y/N."

"Well, I've missed my period, and I'm having bad morning sickness. I know what it is, but I want to get a conformation, more than just the pregnancy test kits." You shyly tell Helen. You're not sure why you're embarrassed about admitting that you are pregnant. Maybe because if you say it out loud, it makes it real. And you dread to think about all the problems this will bring to your relationship

"That should be easy. Let me grab a phlebotomist in here and let's run your blood. We should have your results fairly quickly." Dr. Cho tells you as she leaves the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.  

How could you let this happen? On HYDRA's file, Bucky was listed as infertile, and you were taking birth control just in case. You can't give birth to this child, let alone raise it. You're a monster, HYDRA proved that. They showed what you're capable of doing. Sure, Bucky would be a great father. He's shown you how loving and kind he is. He would flourish as a father, but you would only bring them down. You continue down this rabbit hole of self-doubt and deprecation when the phlebotomist comes in to do your blood draw.

About a half an hour passes before Dr. Cho comes back in with your results. You're still a nervous, emotional reck when she gives you your results.

"You said it yourself, Y/N. I guess congratulations are in order," Dr. Cho hands you the results from your blood test. And to no surprise at all, you had all the indications that you were pregnant.

"Fuck," you mutter out loud while holding on to the paper that confirmed that there was another living being growing inside of you.

"Do you want to know what options are available, Y/N?" Dr. Cho says to you as she starts to reach for pamphlets and handouts about different services like abortion clinics or adoption agencies.

"No. I'm fine. I know what I'm going to do." Because even if you were terrified at the idea of having a kid, you knew you were going to keep it. You were an emotional wreck, freaking out, unsure about most things, but you were sure that you were going to keep it.

You stumble your way back to your bed and collapse on to it. The emotions of today's events overwhelmed you. You were pregnant, and the baby daddy was halfway across the world doing some mission in some remote country. You were scared and completely alone. You fish out your phone to text the one person you know you can rant too.

You:

Wanda! Please come ASAP! It's an emergency!

Just a few short minutes later, a knock came to your door. In your doorway was a very breathless and flushed Wanda. It seems like she ran all the way to your door. You let her in, and her questions start to fire off.

"What's the emergency? Are you okay? Do I need to call Bucky?" Wanda tries to catch her breath, and you bring her a glass of water to help.

"Don't call Bucky, and I'm mostly okay. I texted you because I needed to talk to someone. I'm so scared, and I don't know what I should do or what's going to happen." You start to tell her of the whole ordeal from today.

"Wanda, I'm pregnant." Wanda lets out a gasp and almost drops her cup.

"How, Y/N? I mean I know how, but I thought Bucky was infertile. That is what all the SHIELD files have listed."

"I know Wanda, I thought the same. But the thing is what am I supposed to do know. I can't have an abortion. I respect other women who choose that option, but I just can't do it. Not knowing the life that's growing inside me. But how can I be a mother, being the monster that I am?" You start to ramble, tears starting to form at your eyes.

Wanda is now confused. She understands the fear of an unplanned pregnancy, but where is this self-hatred coming from. "What do you mean that you are a monster?" She asks you, as she scouts over towards you.

"Haven't you read what I did to Bucky, and all the rest of those poor people who HYDRA got their hands on? That was all me. I was in full control. Now I'm going to tell Bucky that I'm pregnant with his kid? He sees me as the monster I am, whether he admits it or not, and he will think that I will raise another monster." This time the tears are flowing and they won't stop. This is one of the few times where you actually admit your true feeling for your self. You were wicked through and through. Nothing would ever change that.

"Y/N, none of us sees you as a monster. Let alone Bucky. I wish you could see how much love and adoration he has for you. No matter what you did to him, which I want to remind you that you did because you were FORCED to, he loves you with all his heart. And I think he will be more than delighted to find out that you are carrying his child. Because that was something that HYDRA stole from him, and now you gave him that chance back. I think you should get some rest, and call Bucky later to see if he can come back home earlier." Wanda gets up from the couch and sees herself out, leaving you with her final words that were stuck on replay.

Maybe she was right, you thought. Maybe you could actually raise this child and help them become a loving and kind member of society. You caress your stomach for the first time, knowing that a little baby is inside of there. That it was your little baby. That no matter what life threw at you, the two of you, no the three of you, would be able to handle it. You fall asleep with plans, visions, and hopes for the future. But sadly, in the end, none of your dreams would come true.

[lord-explosion-baku]

Crocodile Tears

Yandere!Shindou x fem!reader

Warnings: yandere, smuuuut, Dark/triggering themes, dubious consent, angst, Shindou being the rapscallion that he probably is

A/N: I have a few yandere requests for Shindou that are pretty similar and idk I got this idea and so uhhhhh :))) (aged up 18+)

You hugged your pillow tightly and tried not to think about him. You tried not to think about those sweet smiles he used to offer you, how he would always open your car door for you, or how he used to make you feel like you were the only person on the planet. It had been two weeks since you broke up with your boyfriend and though you were doing very well, finding anything and everything to distract yourself, during long periods of time when you had nothing else going on his dark black eyes would find their way back into your mind.

You’ve dropped all contact with him; you’ve blocked him on all of your social media, deleted every photo of him so you wouldn’t have any reason to lament over your lost relationship, and changed the lock on your doors. That was for the best. You had tried to break things of several times with him but he always had a way to convince you not to leave but you were finally to get out and you were relieved… Still, you weren’t at ease, not with yourself and not with knowing that he was out there… stewing.

And it hurt. You were fine— you. were. fine! but still it felt like a part of you, a part that you’ve poured so much of your love in for so long, had been ripped away from you! You kept telling yourself that it was for the best and sure it was but that didn’t stop your heart from aching nor the tears rolling down from your cheeks and on to your momentary companion, the pillow.

A knock at your front door caught your attention. You’d been expecting company but not so soon. You quickly dry your eyes and leapt to the mirror, giving your hair a little shake before opening the door. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Y/N…” needless to say, it wasn’t who you were expecting. You heart pounded against your rib cage as your ex, Yo Shindou, towered over you. “Can we talk?”

Damn him. Damn those sweet eyes, his cute nose, his tousled hair… he shows up with his hands tucked into his sweater pockets looking like a lost puppy!!! What were you supposed to say?!

“We can’t see each other anymore, Yo…”

You made a move to close the door but his foot stuck through the threshold. You sighed and let the door be pushed in with Shindou returning with tears in his eyes. “Please, Y/N. I just… I need to understand what really happened. I’m just,” he sniffed, “so confused.”

That pang in your chest, the reoccurring guilt, and the inevitable excitement at seeing the man you loved after so long had you bowing your head and opening the door wider and in walked the crocodile.

“How have you been?” He asked.

“Fine.”

You sat down on the couch, keeping the pillow in between the two of you. Shindou smiled sadly at you and reached for your hand. Out of habit, your fingers intertwined with his. “I’ve missed you, babe.”

You couldn’t look him in the eye. You knew that if you did, it would be all over for you just like how it had been countless other times. “...yeah.”

“You haven’t been returning my calls. Haven’t you missed me too?” He gave your hand a squeeze.

“Of course I have… it’s been really weird without you but you know that we can’t keep doing this… you know this is wrong…”

“No, Y/N, I don’t know. I don’t understand why you think we’re wrong. I know that we’ve both made mistakes but I really thought that our love was stronger than this. You were my girl. My forever…”

“God Yo, I really am not in the mood to have this discussion right now but fine! I caught you going through my phone, you always get pissy whenever I go somewhere without you, and you get so fucking jealous! It’s unreal! That time you went to my agency to check to see if I actually was there? That was weird, Shindou! And quite frankly, not healthy! And I’ve tried talking to you about this so many times and when I do, you act like you know what I’m saying but then you do it all over again!”

The tears came rushing back into his eyes. “I know,” he said, “I’ve been a real jerk about everything and I’m sorry. I just can’t help myself sometimes, Y/N. I love you so damn much that sometimes it hurts and I can act a little wild and I don’t realize what I’m doing or saying but I understand now that my actions have repercussions. Just, please, babe, please understand that… I can’t live without you.”

Shindou removed the pillow from between the two of you and scooted closer so your legs were touching. He tugged a strand of your hair. “Babyyy,” he cooed.

If your heart could shatter anymore that it already had, it would. You were hurting and the source of your heartbreak was right in front of you telling you what you wanted to hear but did not need. This feeling wasn’t fair! Not for you nor him.

You cleared your throat and involuntarily leaned into his touch. “I guess I could’ve been less, I don’t know, brutal… I’m sorry I ghosted you after everything but I didn’t know any other way… I have to be honest, you’ve scared me more than a couple times and that with my own feelings about all of this has been really hard for me too. I’m really sorry I hurt you, Yo. I’m hurt too. This sucks… so much but I don’t know. I think we could really use the space and then maybe we can see where we’re at in a couple months or something…”

You felt guilty snuggling up against him but he was warm and his scent was so nice and he was… familiar. It was wrong and you knew it was but he had always been a comfort to you. After all, you loved him.

But you didn’t see his smirk.

He wrapped an arm around you. You hardly noticed it happening. You were used him, used to his touch. His fingers brushed against your cheek down to your chin and tilted your head so you had to look at him.

“Did you get a new shampoo? You smell nice.” His thumb met your lips, drawing them out so they parted slightly. “You know you’ll always be my girl, right?”

Before you could even answer his lips were encasing yours; sweet but forceful, hot but soft, a surprise but just what you wanted, what you craved. You kissed him back running your hands through his unruly hair and tugged, a part of you wishing to pull him off of you while the other part of you knowing that he loved it.

He groaned deeply into this kiss and bit down on your bottom lip, warranting a small gasp from you which he took advantage of by rolling his tongue over yours. “Yeah,” he grinned and kissed you again, “yeah you’ll always be my girl.”

His hands wandered down and up your shirt, exploring your body, squeezing your sides, teasing your nipples. He knew how to play you, how to completely turn you on to him and as his hands trailed down your body, stopping to tickle your hip, and he did exactly that. His kisses trailed to your neck, savoring your sweet scent before dragging his tongue along the sensitive crook that made you squirm underneath him.

He chuckled, “tell me you still love me, angel.”

He aroused your puckered nipples, tweaking and pinching them. You let out a breathy sigh and rolled your hips up your front was pressed up against his hardened member. Even feeling him through your pajamas made feel so hot for him. You hated it. You hated that you wanted him. “I… do…” you let out a breathy sigh.

He pressed himself against you, rubbing up your pelvis, grinding against you. His teeth raked across skin making your stomach flutter and stirring you under your pants. His fingers traced down to the light dampening cloth and started to rub you between your lips. “And tell me you miss my fingers.”

He activated his quirk making his fingers vibrate for you. You shuddered in response. “F-fuck…”

“And tell me you miss my cock,” he growled before biting down hard on your neck.

“Fuck! No!” You whimpered and bucked your hips up. You pushed his shoulder and knocked him back. You couldn’t let him leave a mark on you!

Seemingly unphased, he simply wiped his lips and looked down at you, a hot-disheveled mess laying on the couch. He laid a hand down next to the curve of your waist and leveled his head with yours. “You don’t have to be scared of me, sweetheart,” he purred, “I only wanna take care of you. I only wanna make you cry in the best sort of way.”

“You’re the world’s greatest narcissist!” You spat. What the hell were you doing? This was not okay!

At first he looked hurt but his expression quickly changed to something different. Something darker. That grin. “Oh, I had no idea that I was internationally recognized.”

He reached his fingers back down but you slapped them away. “If you really just came here just so you could fuck me you can get lost right now.”

“Nooo, babe,” he grabbed your cheeks and forced you to look into his eyes, “If there’s anything you’re not, it’s vapid. I’m here because I’m in love with you and I haven’t left yet because you still love me. I’m here because we’re meant to be! That being said, the people wanna know: who have you been fucking?”

Dumbstruck, your mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” slowly, he started to massage your scalp, already caging you underneath him again, “you left me because you thought you found someone else, huh? So tell me Miss Y/N, who was it? I won’t be mad with you if you just tell me.”

“Yo Shindou, don’t come at me with your horrible accusations. I’ve never cheated on you!”

“Don’t tell me it was that amateur rookie, Chargebolt, or whatever the fuck unoriginal trash hero name he’s got. That little punk can’t seem to keep his hands to himself whenever he’s around…”

Your face flushed thinking about Kaminari. You rolled your eyes. “Denki’s just an old friend from school and he’s like that with literally everyone! And you know what! I don’t have to defend myself to you anymore.”

“Honestly I can’t say it doesn’t make sense. You hadn’t let me touch you much in weeks. Were you really getting your fix from that idiot?” Again his hands went down to your pajamas, this time sliding passed your elastic waistband. “Does he use his quirk on you, babe?” His fingers started to vibrate, making your body tense from the terribly wonderful sensation. “And does it feel as good as mine?”

“Yo…”

“Huh?” Slowly his fingers rubbed up and down your slit. You spread your legs from him as he teased you around your nub. “Did you moan his name just like you moan mine?”

“Yo… baby…” you sighed and grabbed onto his shoulders starting to ride the sensational waves he was sending through your body.

“Or can nobody make you feel as good as I can?” Two of his long fingers slid into you and you moaned out loud while his tremmering thumb rubbed your clit.

“He’s not… I’m not… ~ahha ahh, Yoo~,” you could already feel the coil up inside. You dug your nails into his shoulder and knitted brows together, letting out an embarrassing mewl.

He stopped his quirk but his fingers continued to thrust into you, denying you your release. “Yeah baby? It sounded like you had something to say?”

You swallowed your moan and closed your eyes. “Shindou, I don’t think you shhh- ~ohhh god~!”

He started his quirk up again and you clenched around his heinous fingers. “What’s that?” He snickered, “baby you’re gonna have to speak up! Are you trying to tell me that nobody can work you like me? You don’t have to be ashamed… you can tell me.”

You arched your back in response. He used that as an opportunity to wrap his free arm around your waist and pull you up against him so he could plunge into you deeper. You bit your lip and let out squeak, feeling the familiar pulsations build up again.

“Yeah?” He bowed his head and nibbled on your earlobe. “Spit it out, doll. We don’t have all night.”

“Mmmmphuuuhhh,” you couldn’t think, you could only feel and you were feeling him. Your toes curled as you began to spill out, becoming undone by the cocky sonofabitch finger fucking your pussy. He kissed your neck and didn’t stop until you were overwhelmed and shaking underneath him, crying out when your climax reached its peak.

“Awww,” he laughed, “my poor girl, you came so fast! Someone’s really been neglecting your needs, huh?” He raised your legs up and swiftly tore your pants away. “I guess we’re gonna have to make up for lost time,m?”

“Shindou,” you breathed, “please listen… we really… really can’t be doing this…”

“Hmm?” He lifted your shirt and began kissing your stomach. “And why is that? You think your boyfriend is gonna find you here falling apart for me?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend-!”

“Lift up your arms,” he commanded. Beside yourself, you do what you were told and let your shirt get stripped away from you. He groaned in appreciation before returning to nipping you down your body. “But you have me, sweetheart.”

He planted his lips against your shaking thighs, savoring the sound of your whimpers as his fingers began massaging you again. He has always liked hearing you squeak and he earned those pathetic noises from you when he started to suck on your soft skin, painting you in violet-red ovals. His tongue teased your clit and and you began to feel his quirk activate inside you again.

“Mmm, you taste as good as ever,” his tongue appreciatively swirled around you. Your cunt twitches as he alternated between using flat and pointed strokes. He’s soft on you but you’re already so sensitive that even hmthe gentle strokes of his tongue had you writhing underneath him. You found yourself in a spasmed daze as you run your hands through his hair and ride his tongue towards your second orgasm. You became a moaning mess, violently shaking against his power.

“God, Yo Shindou,” you cried, “that… you’re… so goood.”

“I know, angel,” he raised his head and winked at you. “Only for you though.”

With bated breath, you watched him lick his fingers clean before his pulled his shirt and sweater off. Jesus fucking Christ, his toned stomach nearly hurt to look at and by the look on his face, you could tell he knew that you loved to look at him. He grabbed your hand and placed his against his chest. You could feel his heart thrumming. “Only for you,” he reiterated.

You slid your fingers down his stomach and he flexed at your gentle touch.

“You want it, right babydoll?” His hands followed yours down to his belt buckle. “You wanna feel my cock?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“Say so,” he undid his buckle. You pulled on his pants. It was so wrong. You tried to stay away from him, you tried to keep him out of your life but he waltzes into your house and suddenly you lose your mind!

“I wanna feel your cock…”

“Deep inside of you?”

“Deep inside of me, Shindou.”

Smirking, he hauled you on top of him and kissed you fiercely. He ran his hands down your back causing goosebumps to erupt across your arms and legs. He grabbed your hips and pulled you down, easily slipping his throbbing shaft into your sopping wet heat.

“Ohhhh fucking hell,” he hissed out, “I’ve missed you so damn much!” His lips trailed over your collar bone, sheathing in and out of you. His cock felt fantastic, filling up your crevices and you rolled your hips and rode the man you promised yourself you’d never see again.

Even while on top of him, he had full control over your body, gripping your ass and thrusting upwards, fucking you harder with every mewl you would give him.

“Tell me who you ruined your cunt. Tell me you’re not gonna find anyone else you can fuck you as well as I can. Don’t deny it, Y/N. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you panted, running your hands through your hair. He’s always loved when your arms were stretched up in front him so he could see your everything and you could tell nothing has changed with his appreciative growls. He wrapped his hands around you and stood up. You squealed and wrapped your legs around him, scared and thrilled by the sudden elevation.

“I’ve got you, angel,” he assured, placing you down on the couch’s arm. He pushed your back and yanked your legs closer, deepening his penetration.

“God could you get any more gorgeous?” His hands began vibrating again and he pressed them down on your stomach enhancing every boiling sensational fiber in your body. You were ignited, in love or in just; so overwhelmed, you couldn’t tell! You moaned for him, and cried his name as his hands his quaking hands squeezed your sides.

“Ohhhh,” he chuckled, “with those pretty little noises comin’ out of your mouth, apparently you can.”

With that, you broke, coming completely undone in front of him, clenching around his unforgiving cock, tears streaming down your face from your over stimulation. You choked out strangled sobs until he finally pulled himself out. He looked like the devil while he stroked himself over you and his seed shot out onto your chest.

He grinned down at the ness he’s made of you. His hands rubbed his essence around your naked trembling body, the implications of what he’d done, you didn’t want to think about.

By the time your thoughts are finally composed, Shindou already had you wrapped up in his arms flesh up against his naked body. His hands never stopped touching you even while you lay languidly against him. Satisfied but defeated you let out sigh.

“You can’t ever leave me again, Y/N. I won’t allow it.”

Pensive, you let him stroke your hair like you’re some sort of doll. Maybe you were a doll how you’d just let him fuck you like that, even if you weren’t sure you wanted him to before he started touching. “Shindou, I’m sorry but…”

Your phone on the table cut you off. You glared at it. You already knew who it was.

“But… what?” His glade was dangerous. He didn't look away from you when he asked, “you gonna answer that?”

Slowly you shake your head. Shindou clicked his tongue and reached over to grab it.

“You were gonna ask me to leave, weren’t you?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond. He checked to see that if it was who he thought it was calling.

Caller ID: Denki with a little heart next to it.

“Alright cutie, I’ll tell you what- If you haven’t been fucking anyone then I’ll leave you alone for the night. But if you have then we’ll all have to face the repercussions. Do we have a deal?”

“Shindou, please don’t answer that.”

He scoffed and shook his head. Click.

“Hey honey, I’m running a little late tonight!” You could hear Kaminari’s voice through the phone. Shindou only smirked at you. “I was just wondering what kinda shake you wanted me to get ya! A little apology for lagging!”

Shindou looked at you and licked his lips. “Her favorite is strawberry.”

It was silent over the line. Terribly silent.

“Denki, you’re about to learn what happens when you touch my girl.”

He put the phone on speaker. You heard Denki’s bated breathing and a flood of questions rang out through the phone but Shindou just laughed over them. He pinned your hands back against the couch. Overwhelmed with panic, you can’t find the words to object. Still, when your body started to shake, you succumb to your, and Shindou’s, pleasure… over and over and over...

Tags for EVERYTHING (closed): @yandere-inamorata @miitaart @dessiedawnwritesfanfiction n @wickedlewicked @nevermorelanore @kpanime @ayeputita a @captain-sin-allmight-queen n @diisasterbii @iceformer r @meganofmars @colagirl5 @colorbookshd @grimmjadeskye @sm0kingcrack @sarcastictextstuck @zellllyyyy @psionicsnow @andie-in-tumblland @iamthe-leaf @midnightfeline666 @rubyred-imagines imagines @kattariapenn @heypartypeps @quirktaker @thecryingsombra @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @ghost-of-todoroki @geektastic84 @davalia @glixeo @rubycubix @mekakushi-dan-01-kido

Because of my special gift @unboundbnha ;)

[mycupoffanfiction]

His Second Chance Part 19

Bucky x Reader

His Second Chance Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Bucky comes back from Wakanda with Steve, ready to begin his recovery from his days as the Winter Soldier, but there’s one thing he doesn’t take into account - you.

Warnings: Violence, use of powers, injury, fluff, language.

Word count: 3500

Thank you to @shygirl-00 and @mochibarnes for your help with ideas and when I was stuck! 😘

The Reader is forced to take on a challenge while Bucky is faced with a very cute opportunity.

ALL TAG LISTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN 💖 feel free to come and chat, my blog is always open for you 💕

_______________________________

“Going in from the west side.” Your hushed tone came over the comms. “Roger that, closing in from the northern entrance, do not engage.” Steve’s voice crackled slightly from interference. You were in a crouched position, moving towards the main building you were infiltrating.

 A last minute mission, low risk, high priority. Get in, get the data and get out. It seemed simple, but quickly became much more complex than you had hoped it would be. When you had arrived, there were far more Hydra agents than originally speculated, leaving the mission much higher risk than you’d thought it would be.

 “Did you hear me? Confirmation required.” Steve was in full work mode, no sweetheart or sweetie here. He was in his Captain mode, firm and sometimes harsh tone, little emotion shown as he did the job. “Confirmed, Captain.” You answered, a relieved sigh passing through Steve’s lips. He knew how you felt about coming on the mission, so he’d specifically set it up so that you didn’t have to do any combat unless it was absolutely needed. He was the one taking the front, allowing you time to slip in and get the data you needed.

 You paused mid movement, immediately forcing yourself up against a half wall outside the back entrance. “Five hostiles on the west side.” You hissed into the comms. A grunt and a muttered curse came down the line. “Can you take them?” Steve asked. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take them without using your powers if you just ran in and started throwing punches.

No. You were going to do this quietly and if you were careful, no one would ever know you’d even been there.

 You moved around the low wall, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. You kept your breathing under control as you watched the movements of the men around you, waiting for the precise moment to take the first strike.

 Quickly, you reached up, cupping your hand over the mouth and nose of the agent closest to you and hooked your other arm around his neck. You used your full body weight and strength to yank him down with you behind the wall while you knocked him out in a single movement. “What’s your status?” Steve whispered. There were too many around you to speak up, they’d hear you, it could put you in a more dangerous situation. You had to stop yourself from swearing out loud when you spotted three more agents approaching. “Are you there? Status.” Steve tried again.

 A strangled sound, a few muffled movements and a groan was all Steve could hear, momentarily breaking his composure as he snuck around the front entrance. “Sweetheart?”

 “You think they’ll be alright?” Bucky asked, sighing as he stared down at his coffee. “Yeah, they’ll be fine.” Sam nodded, fiddling about with the week’s shopping list. “Your girl can take care of herself just fine, Steve’s there, it’ll be okay.” Sam smiled, scribbling something down to buy. “Why didn’t he take you?” Bucky asked before taking a long sip of the slightly-too-hot coffee. “Clint used one of his explosive arrows and it blew off a chunk of my wing, gotta get it fixed.” He rolled his eyes.

“Do we have cheese?” Sam asked.

“No.” Bucky replied, honestly he had no idea and didn’t really want to participate, so he made up an answer. “Can’t you fight without the wings?” Bucky asked, frowning a bit. “Shut up.” Sam countered, throwing a used coffee capsule at him. “Can you put plums on the list?” Bucky asked, twirling his cup around slowly. “No.” Sam deadpanned while he messily wrote plums down.

 “You coming with me?” Sam asked, flapping the shopping list about. “You’re tall enough to reach everything, right?” Bucky smirked, receiving an offended glare from Sam. “Obviously.” He scoffed in response. “Then you don’t need me.” Bucky excused himself before Sam could force him to join the grocery shopping trip. “But- Buck- you’re shit company anyway!” He called out of the kitchen as Bucky walked away. “So are you!” Bucky called back from down the hallway, a smile making it’s way onto Sam’s lips. In Bucky and Sam terms, that was as close to saying I love you to each other as they were going to get, but it was all just mindless banter with no real harshness to it.

 Bucky walked down the street, pausing to kneel down and tighten the lace of his boots. As he looked up, he saw the closed café and he let out a sigh. Oh, pretty girl, I wish this place was still open for us. Bucky wandered towards the old café, his eyes on the rental sign above the shop. The windows were now blacked out, presumably until it was refitted. Bucky pondered for a moment, staring up at the sign above the shop. He eyed the phone number for the agency and thought on it for a moment.

Don’t be ridiculous, the Winter Soldier owning a goddamn café.

No, it would be Bucky and his girl baking sweet treats and making coffees together. Maybe he could even build her a herb garden so she could make her own tea blends and- no, you’re getting carried away. It’s just a dumb dream.

A really stupid, dumb-

 A soft squeak like sound pulled Bucky from his thoughts and he looked about for the source of the noise. There were people around, it was raining and there was quite a bit of traffic on the main road, but this street was fairly quiet. The sound came again and Bucky peered around the side of the café into the small alleyway. Dumpsters and rubbish bags lined the alleyway and it smelled something awful. Bucky took a side step towards the alley entrance, pausing when he saw some rubbish shift and heard a rustle.

 Bucky waited for a moment, almost limiting himself from breathing properly, careful not to make even the slightest sound. He was a trained assassin, he could probably sneak up on whatever was in that alley, not that he was likely to do that. His eyes widened when a literal ball of fluff peeked around a bin bag. Oh. My. God. It’s SO CUTE. The little fluffy cat, a Maine Coon Bucky thought, slowly stepped out into the open. The cat looked skinny, despite the large amount of fluff to suggest otherwise, but he knew it was starving just by looking at it.

 Edging closer to the little cat, Bucky crouched down on one knee, slowly extending a hand out and waiting for it to come to him. It sniffed the air a little, eyes locked on him as it wearily checked its surroundings before limping towards him, one of the front paws of the cat was damaged enough it couldn’t bare weight on it and Bucky’s heart broke clean in half at the sight. Poor little baby. A sad smile spread across his lips as the cat approached, nose nudging his finger slightly as it inspected him, judging whether Bucky was trustworthy. “Hi friend.” Bucky whispered out, the little cat staring up at him for a moment before gently leaning into his hand.

 The alarm blared loudly in your ears, not that you could hear much over the ringing. You ran, full pelt for the server room. You could hear Steve talking, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. You spotted shadows of men approaching down the hall and practically threw yourself into the server room, closing the door and blocking it, heaving out a deep breath. You drew your silenced pistol, clicking off the safety before you started your sweep of the room, making sure to be careful between the rows of servers and computer parts.

 “Sweetheart, what’s going on?” Steve voice crackled through your ear piece, but you only caught half of what he said, your ears still ringing from a nasty hit you took to the side of the head. “I’m in the server room.” You replied, keeping your voice low. “I’m coming to you. Are you hurt? I’m calling for immediate evac, this is too high risk.” Steve’s voice was wavering between stern Captain and concerned best friend, finding it hard to keep focus. “I- I’m fine Steve.” You mumbled, reaching up to wipe away a trickle of blood from the side of your head, the tangy, metallic smell flooding your senses.

Not fine.

You’re not fine.

 You stepped slowly through the rows, analysing each section until you reached where you needed to be. Your hands were shaking more than you’d expected them to, causing you to fumble with the flash drive you pulled from your tac suit pocket. “Drop the mission, we’re getting out.” Steve ordered. “No, I’ve got this Steve.” You shook your head, breathing out as you plugged in the flash drive, the program on it was set to automatically transfer the files, bypassing any encryption walls in place. “We have to go, west entrance, two minutes.” Steve instructed, he sounded like he was running. Two minutes was all you needed.

 “One minute thirty, hurry it up.” Steve stressed down the comms. You looked down at your smart watch where the progress bar for the file transfer was displayed. “It’s at eighty percent, give me thirty more seconds and I’ll move.” You reasoned. “No, it’s too long, get out of there.” Steve put on his best Captain voice.

Ninety five percent.

Ninety six.

Ninety seven.

“Come on, evac is about to land!” Steve yelled down the ear piece at you.

Ninety nine.

“Sweetheart, please.” Steve sounded desperate. “Shit, oh fuck.” Steve breathed out. Rapid gunfire filled your ears, muffled movements and glass breaking.

One hundred percent.

 You grabbed the flash drive, bolting straight for the door, slipping it back into your secured pocket as you went. “I’m making an exit now.” You informed him, trying to keep your voice level as you heard the background noise of a fight, both over the comms and in the distance. “West entrance in compromised, get to the evac from the east side, I’ll join you back at base.” Steve shouted at you. “What? No, I’m not leaving you.” You frowned, pulling the server room door open and looking both ways down the corridor. “Dammit, do as I told you, don’t engage and get on the fucking jet.” He shouted.

 Stay or go? Leave Steve or delay evacuation?

That fight sounded brutal. It sounded bad. It sounded like a full shoot out and Steve was by himself. Sure, he was a super soldier and you’d seen him take on full groups of people, but he usually had backup. You were his backup.

 Fuck it.

 “You fucking- what?” Sam seethed over the phone. “I got a cat, moron.” Bucky scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You can’t just- fuck me, Stark’s gonna kill you.” He groaned. “Put it in a shelter or something.” Sam sighed. “She is in a shelter, she’s in my room.” Bucky smiled down at his newest little friend, purring away as she rolled about on his bed. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. No- this is on you.” Bucky could almost hear the eye roll from Sam. “I don’t want it near me.” Sam sighed. “It is a she and her name is Gemini or Gem for short.” Bucky said matter-of-factly. “You have a nickname for it already?” Sam sounded incredulous. “Her, she is female, Sam.” Bucky corrected, rolling his eyes. “Un-fucking-believable.” And then Sam hung up.

 “It’s alright little Gem, Sam will melt when he sees you.” Bucky grinned lazily at the fluff ball next to him, her paw wrapped up in a bandage as she lay on her back, gently kneading at his arm as he stroked her fur down. Gem trilled at him and Bucky swore he felt his heart melt, almost as much as it did when he saw you doing cute things. “Urgh, you’re so fucking cute.”

 You bolted out of the building, slamming the door against the outside wall so hard that the metal groaned a bit. Agents swarmed the back compound area and you were out in the open. Perhaps running straight out of the building like a bat out of hell was not the best idea. “What the hell are you doing?” Steve hissed down the comms, unimpressed by your appearance. “I told you to go.” He grumbled as he was swarmed by a whole group of Hydra agents. You leapt into a sprint, running straight for the group, rage boiling up inside of you.

 You didn’t want to have to do it. You never wanted to, especially not since last time. Not since the damage you caused your own mind last time. But you had to. “Sweetheart go.” Steve all but begged, but you ignored him, launching yourself right at the group, a blast of power throwing the front of the formation to the ground, disrupting the whole crowd. You stood, one against nearly forty men and women.

 Flashbacks from your last real use of your powers on a mission came back to you. Not again. You wouldn’t let it cause you the same pain again. You couldn’t be afraid of yourself anymore. You had to do this. Even if Steve didn’t need saving, you needed to do it for yourself, perhaps it was selfish, perhaps it was stupid, but some part of you made you feel like you needed to do this, to prove something to yourself.

 “Steve, shield.” You ordered, voice low, eyes squinted slightly as you concentrated. “What?” He breathed out, crouched on the floor. He saw you running straight of him and he immediately understood, pulling his shield over his crouched form. You ran full pelt towards him, your powers feeling like a blaze ripping through your forearms as it travelled towards your palms, the fire within you igniting. You leapt up, feet landing on the face of his shield and Steve jolted at an upwards angle, giving you the leverage you needed.

 You were propelled up into the air, flying forwards, fire erupting out of your palms in swirling, controlled spheres. You landed in the middle of the group of agents, using the force of your landing to send waves of fiery energy out, knocking everyone back. You screamed out when the fire encircled you, making it hard for you to regain control of it, to pull it back in.

 “Stop! Sweetheart, you need to calm down!” Steve raced over to you, almost reaching out for you but retracted his hand before he could burn himself on the energy force around you. “Deep breaths, focus on me, not them.” Steve’s eyes flitted about, checking for any more agents who could be around. “I need you to take long deep breaths, I need you to stop, we have to leave before backup arrives.” Steve was teetering on the edge of Captain mode and protective brother mode. “Sweetheart please.” He breathed out, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t control it; it was impossible to pull it back in. “I can’t Stevie.” You turned away from him, propelling a huge force of energy, exerting all of the power you had left, leaving you weak.

 “Fucking- you weren’t supposed to do that.” Steve grunted out as he lurched forwards, reaching out to catch you as your knees buckled. Your eyelids felt so damn heavy, everything felt heavy and numb. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Steve asked, you felt dazed, weak and shaky. It was all a bit too much. “Shouldn’t have to done that, we shouldn’t have done this, as soon as we saw there were too many we should have just left.” Steve pulled you close to him, lifting you up from the ground as he looked around nervously. “I’ll get you out of here, sweetheart, hold on.”

 “Oh my- did you really have to get a damn cat?” Sam huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he peered around Bucky at Gem. “She chose me, I had to bring her home!” Bucky exclaimed, like that was a valid excuse, which if you asked him, it was.

“I’m not feeding it.”

“Her.” Bucky grumbled.

“I’m not feeding it. Or playing with it or cleaning up its poop.” Sam scowled.  

His pissed off demeanor slowly frayed at the edged when Gemini sidled up towards him, stepping so delicately between Bucky’s legs and letting out a sweet little trill as she swished her tail in curiosity at the new human in her home. Sam’s eyes softened for a moment until he caught Bucky’s smug grin and immediately resumed his scowl. “Shut up.” He growled through gritted teeth before stomping away, giving a quick glance back at Gemini as she happily twirled herself around Bucky’s legs.

 No, no, no, pretty girl, please be okay. “What did you do to her?” Bucky pushed between Steve and Sam to get a look at you in your hospital bed. Fuck me, she looks so weak. “You idiot Steve, you should’ve pulled her outta there!” Bucky raged upon seeing his girl completely knocked out and on fluids. “I tried! I tried Buck; she wouldn’t listen!” Steve defended himself. “She insisted on getting the data and when I told her to leave me and go for evac, she came back for me.” Steve explained. “Oh my- Steve, are you stupid? Of course she’d come back for you!” Bucky half-heartedly slapped his chest. “Sometimes I feel like I’m competing with you for her favourite person, you shoulda’ known she’d come back for you.” Bucky frowned.

 He wasn’t really mad at Steve, but the man was so blinded by his role as Captain that he failed to consider that you, a very stubborn, sweet girl who adored the crap out of Steve, would ever dream of leaving him.

 “M’sorry Buck.” Steve sighed, a look of guilt on his features as he watched over you, his fingers lacing between yours. “She’ll be okay though.” He glanced down at you. “She’s our strong girl.” Steve murmured as he moved to gently brush some of your hair out of the way. Bucky came down to sit on the other side of your bed, busying himself with making sure you had your pillow just how you liked it and that your blanket was pulled up to where he knew was comfortable for you, making sure to pull it tight enough that all the creases were gone. “Our strong girl.” Bucky smiled, gently grazing your cheek with his metal fingers.

My strong, pretty girl.

 “A mocha for the soul and a chocolate pancake for the stomach.” Bucky handed you a tray of food and leaned forwards to kiss your forehead before he fluffed your pillow for the umpteenth time that morning. “Thank you Bucky.” You grinned up at him, Steve peering around the door into your bedroom. You, thankfully, had gained enough energy to go back up to your quarters and continue your recovery in the comfort of your own space.

 “How’s my sweetheart doing?” Steve asked as he walked into the room, giving you a soft smile. “Much better.” You replied, through a mouthful of pancake. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry about what happened.” Steve sighed, sitting down next to you. “Stevie, I’d do it a hundred time over if it meant I didn’t have to leave you to fight alone.” You shook your head frantically. Yes, the recovery was gruelling, but in your eyes, it was worth it.

 A little squeaky meow caught your attention and you gasped dramatically when you caught sight of a fluffy tail walking into the bedroom. “Oh my god.” You squealed excitedly, trying to crane your neck to see the little cat who had made herself welcome to your space.

“A… Cat?” Steve looked absolutely befuddled. “Her name is Gemini, or Gem for short.” Bucky grinned, enjoying the excitement on your face as you watched Gem hop up on the bed. Steve immediately leapt up from his spot and stared wide eyed at her. “You got a cat?” Steve almost shrieked, looking down at the sweet, calm little fluffy cat as if she was the devil incarnate. “Mhm.” Bucky nodded, quite pleased with the chaos he’d caused for both Sam and Steve.

 “No- no, you have to take it out.” Steve shook his head. “Stevie, please.” You pouted, giving him your sweetest look, big eyes and all, causing him to pause with his mouth wide open as he looked at you. He stayed silent for a moment until Gemini nudged her face against Steve’s leg and he stared at her with such confusion.

 “You did almost kill my girl, I think letting us keep Gem is a good apology, don’t you think doll?” Bucky shot you a sly grin, making you giggle. “I think so.” You nodded. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to kick out a little stray kitty, Stevie.” You spoke in the cutest voice you could muster and Steve glanced up at you, a look of defeat as he sighed. “Fine.” He huffed before making his way out of your room.

 “Welcome to the family, Gem.” You gently stroked the top of her head, eliciting a blissful trill from her as Bucky settled on the edge of the bed to join you in making a fuss of the little Maine Coon.

Our little family.

_______________________________

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[peachy-inserts]

Tensei Confession Scenario

As requested by @fatimaville. I accidentally posted this before it was completed and ended up deleting it along with the ask—

Hope you enjoy! My apologies about the sitting style. I couldn’t decide on how i wanted it to go, so i just kept writing until i thought of something

My apologies if it’s choppy or seems straightforward; its been awhile!

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In the earlier days, before the rise and then of course, fall, of Stain, Tensei had been known for his strikingly quick reflexes and beaming confidence. Citizens all over the area had seen him at least once, whether it be in action or passing by on patrol. Though it was a rare occasion that he would bare his face in the public eye, it wasn’t difficult to realize he was smiling underneath his steel mask. This friendly and easy-going demeanor was his rise to fame; tabloids and magazines slapped him on the cover of their latest issues, spilling alleged rumors of affairs with other pro-heroes that were simply nothing more than desperation and deceit at the wrung out hands of a tired freelance journalist looking for a quick buck. It was plain to see that he couldn’t even stand close to All Might himself, and yet, he could have very well been the Symbol of Peace with his attitude alone.

Team Idaten had since quickly fell in productivity and credibility, their front man being paralyzed from the waist down and forced into retirement. You had been there to see it all; it pained you deeply to see the once fearless and confident man be reduced to nearly half of his former self. He was thankful to have you by his side, and you certainly were glad to have been there as well, but things just weren’t the same. It depressed you to see him wheel himself into the room, grunting through his kind smile, and that smile fooled you, but only for a second. Like his heavy sighs, happiness was only fleeting.

“Hey-” he grinned at you, leaning forward and reaching out with once hand to tug at your shirt sleeve. “I spoke to my lawyer; he’ll take it over from here. Thank you for everything so far, I don’t know how I would have made it without you. I’m so sorry to have burdened you with this for so long.”

For the last several weeks or so, you had been assisting him with some legal documents regarding his retirement and the passing of his name to Tenya. Actually, he hadn’t even came to you with the matter; you just missed seeing him so often, having been an intern for his agency. Knowing that you would no longer get to see him everyday, you latched on to any opportunity to be able to help him; you see, for quite some time you had been wanting to confess to the man. Every time he entered the room you were reduced to a trembling pile of nervous stutters and unfulfilled fantasies of what could possibly be, if only you had the courage. Oh, the things you could do together, the things you could show him; he’d take care of you for life, and you him. But that was nothing but a pipe dream. It was ridiculously silly to imagine that he ever would have considered you, a measly assistant to his agency he would occasionally greet in the mornings on his way to make conversation with the people who actually mattered to him. It wasn’t your fault though! The way he carried himself with an unshakable sureness of himself and readiness to help others at the expense of his own safety had you smitten the minute you laid your eyes on him. You did see him every day... would it really be so ridiculous after all?

“Oh-” you were startled at the sudden touch, his calloused and worn hands grazing your wrist. How could such a passive touch be considered so intimate to you? “Don’t worry about it, really!”. You quickly forced all your dreams of possible romance away, back into the depths of your subconscious. Turning up to face Tensei, you offered him a warm smile, bringing a twinkle to his eye. “It really was just a matter of organization, since there’s nothing I could really do legal wise. I actually just enjoyed being able to help you.”

He chuckled. Over the past few years that you had been working under him, he had been attentive to your desire to assist him; Tensei admired this about you, and respected you for it. You reminded him of himself in ways, something that drew him closer to you. Had anyone else offered to take over his paperwork, he would have profusely refused, but if he was being honest with himself, he accepted your plea for no other reason than to possibly create a personal relationship with you. Sure, Tensei felt a twinge of guilt for having used you for such a selfish reason, but at the same time he didn’t. He knew you had feelings for him; he had known you for years and after working against deviants for quite some time, he was easily able to read people and what they were feeling. He knew how you felt; so then why, pray tell, was he still so afraid?

“Well, that I’m glad to hear” he looked you in the eye and pat your back. “Please, tell me. Is there any way I could repay you?”

Typically, you would say no, don’t worry about, my treat, but perhaps you were feeling bold today. Bold? No, not bold. Tired, worn. Sick of watching what very well could be the love of your life pass by every day, without speaking to him nay for small talk, without letting him know how you don’t think at this point you’d be able to make it without being able to see him. No, this was no way to live... so what if you were rejected? It’s not like you’d be the first person. It’s not like he’d ever tell anyone. So what were you waiting for?  

“Well...” you looked down and felt the heat rise in your cheeks. “I know this is silly, considering I’ve been making this route since I took up this job, but with the sun setting later than usual I’m pretty nervous walking home” You shook your head, not so subtly, obviously having regretted everything you just said. Tensei simply laughed, making you feel foolish, when in reality he just thought that it was pretty cute of you to have asked.

“I don’t mind coming with you; it’s my number one priority to make sure this world is safe, even I can’t do it as much as I would like anymore”

The two of you spent the whole way chatting and locking eyes. Oh, how strange it felt. Your stomach was in jitters and sent itself up your spine in chills that caused you to shiver every time his broad, detailed face turned to you with a grin that was for you, and only for you. It made him happy beyond explanation to have accompanied you, not just because he got to fulfill his duty, but because he got to spend time with you. The breeze blew your hair back behind your head, and he couldn’t help but admire your features and appreciate them for all that they were. At times, it was hard to concentrate on the topic at hand; he was simply so enamored by everything about you, down to the way you would tilt your chin ever so slightly and nod to let him know you were paying attention. With you by his side, everything was perfect; maybe this atmosphere was what prompted him to spill his guts to you.

Suddenly, he stopped. Having been looking forward, you take a few steps before you turned around and realized that had had been sitting idly. His expression was one of reluctance, but the twinkle in his eye was still present. 

“Tensei? What’s the matter?” He stared off over your shoulder, towards the sun, were it present. 

“Hm?” he shook himself back to reality. “Oh, damn, I’m sorry; I must have been lost in thought”

A pregnant, tense silence ensued while the both of you love-sick kids choked on your own emotions.

“You know something?” he scratched at the nape of his neck, perhaps from nerves, something he was considerably good at hiding; but tonight, that was not the case. “You know, I see you every day, for all this time... and I’ve always thought pretty highly of you”.

“...but know that I won’t be at the agency every day, I find myself... troubled, to say the least. I kinda miss your face greeting me in the mornings... it’s not really something I’d like to leave behind”.

You sighed, chuckling softly to yourself. Nuh-uh, no way... “Aw, that’s awfully, uh... kind of you! I’ve really enjoyed this too”. What were you supposed to say?

“I guess- I guess what I’m trying to say is... I may not have been entirely sure of it before, but now that I’ve been faced with leaving you behind, I... may have developed some kind of attraction. Uh, towards you, of course”.

You nearly choked on your own tongue. ‘Uh- I... come again?”

Tensei came closer to you, taking your hand into his own. You stood frozen; this can’t be a dream, right? 

No, it couldn’t be. You could feel his pulse in his fingertips, feel how rough his hands were, and how the skin contrasted to yours so heavily, his being hard from years of training and physical brutality. It was real.

“What I’m saying is-” he looked up at you, smiling oh so gently, so that you felt at ease and let yourself melt onto the pavement, only to be caught in his embrace. “...I don’t think I wanna let you just be a passing part of my life. I want you; I want you to be there to greet me every day. Every week day, weekend, or vacation day. I keep finding myself falling deeper and deeper into you, and a this point I wouldn’t have it any other way. You may just be the most endearing, authentic person that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, and as the days go by I think about you more and more”.

Without thinking, almost without conscious, you kissed him, easy and gentle. Taken aback by your sudden advance, and still recovering from the fear of rejection, Tensei remained stiff; but only for a moment. Scared, you pulled back, ready to sputter out an apology, before he went in for another, this time the sweetest and most genuine intimacy you had ever felt. The world around was still and atmospheric; all was perfect.

You’d remember that simple night for the rest of your days.

[petpvc42]

Find Cheap Travel Trailers Right Around The Corner At Rv Repo Auctions

Some days I close my eyes, wish it all away and you can feel that weight on you. That human weight you've known all your life, like a honey you've met be laying on top of you giving you love, but you know you're alone. You're all on your lonesome with not a weapon, nor with barely a scrap of clean clothing and all you can do lay there. You know that if you open your eyes she'll be there, lying on top of you because you know it's her, it's her goddamn weight and she's just waiting, playing her own twisted waiting game to drive you crazy. Train travel from Palermo Centrale to Campofelice try and open your eyes just even a whisper and BAM, she's got ya. I thought that after a year or two, I'd get used to her games but doubts are the devils tools and he's filling my heart and head with the lot of em. Train travel from Milano Centrale to Crema is fairly easy to put together so older kids can do most of the work all by themselves. The various parts are sturdy and durable so they stand up to rough treatment from young train lovers. Attention to details was not spared and the train has a very realistic look. You can even add smoke fluid so it emits smoke clouds and it has a realistic sounding steam whistle. The throttle and transformer are larger than normal and were designed so smaller hands could operate them easily. The track that is included in the set is sixty inches long by forty inches wide. You can buy additional track so you can make it as big as you like. A membership only gives you the privilege of discounted travel, not the travel itself. Therefore it is only valuable when you decide to use the privilege. At all other times, it is worthless. And that is what's wrong with most travel MLM's. They are trying to recruit people into their "travel club" where only a small portion of the people are going to take advantage of the real products - discounted travel. Gauge: The measurement of the track width is simply the gauge. There are Train travel from Milano Centrale to Vasto S. Salvo that may only fit specific model scales. But there are times where the track is tweaked in order for lager model scales to fit and they are usually done by advanced train enthusiasts. These can't be normally done since there are specific gauges for specific scales. The HO scale for example is 87 times smaller than the real train. The designated track for the HO model scale has a gauge of "0.650". For other scales such as 1:22, the designated track for it is "0.257". train travel These memberships do not require you to pay any additional fees, at least the ones that I have checked out. No maintenance fees or annual fees is a huge plus to many, who have been burned by timeshares. That is something that no timeshare can even come close to when comparing the two. If you compare the amount of money that you would have to pay on a retail vacation, a membership blows the retail price right out of the water. You will easily save over 50% or more. Always keep an eye on your luggage as you travel. At arrival and departure time, you're likely to see groups of young men in scruffy-looking western clothes. These groups of young men are often thieves, so be wary. At night, use your bag as a pillow and chain it to the berth. Be sure to make friends with the other occupants of the compartment, especially families, and they will gladly watch your luggage when you leave the compartment. Simply say "Please, look after it" in Hindi and people will oblige. Speaking in Hindi, that would be 'jii, iska dekh-paal karo." In fact, you will almost certainly chat with your fellow travelers, and if you speak any Hindi, people will be curious and want to talk with you. Well I certainly hope not. If this happens there will be no winners; the consumer may think they are saving a quick buck in the short-term but the reality is that their holiday experience will be most certainly reduced. If your schedule allows for some traveling flexibility, you may be able to avoid peak-time travel. Traveling midweek to mid week and middle of the day and night boarding will save on your train fare. Peak travel time will seldom render a cheap ticket price unless you are booking your ticket months and months in advance. However, by shopping around one may find quite a variety of engines, cabooses, box and passenger cars to fulfill their needs. There are also landscaping, tunnels, lights, and other items that can be purchased to go with this kind of train set. While it might seem much faster to fly to your destination, when you factor in the time it takes you to get to the airport, checking in and going through customs, you are better off taking the train. Trains also tend to have a better record of keeping time than planes. It takes 4 and a half hours to move from London to Glasgow by most of the trains. However, most people have experienced delays at the airport, but these trains are usually on time. If you have a tight schedule to keep, using the train will give you a better opportunity to plan your journey. With the advent of technology you can book your train ticket making sure you get the best deal. This way you will get the cheapest prices, with no middlemen, no booking fees, no postage costs or agency mark ups. The other advantage of booking online is that you will be able to book in advance and early, these tickets offer deep discounts over full price.

[romancandlemagazine]

An Interview with Brian Cannon

This is probably a pretty obvious statement to make, but there’s more to music than just the music. Things like melody and chords and all that are fairly important, but there are a thousand other factors that help turn a song, track or album into something more than just a bunch of sound waves smacking into your ear drums.

Record sleeves are one such factor — and not many have created quite as many stone cold classics as Brian Cannon.

As the man behind the infamous Microdot agency, Brian was responsible for looking after the visual side of both Oasis and The Verve, as well as designing covers for bands like Suede, Cast and Inspiral Carpets.

Here’s an interview with him about doing graffiti in Wigan, his trademark ‘in-camera’ style and the logistics of putting a Rolls Royce in a swimming pool…

Maybe an obvious first question – but how did you get into designing record covers? What were you into when you were growing up in Wigan.

I specifically set out to design record sleeves, because I was a fan of punk rock. I was 11 in 1977, when I first got into it all.

Do you remember the first time you saw ‘punk’?

I’m the eldest in my family, so I didn’t have the influence of an older brother – but I did have an older cousin called Tony who was 15 at the time — and when you’re 11, that’s a massive difference. I’d heard about this phenomenon from Tony, and then I saw the Buzzcocks on Top of the Pops — and to actually see it in the flesh — it blew me away.

Why do you think it had such an impact on so many people? Was it because it was so different.

Exactly, it was totally different. At that time, Top of the Pops was your barometer, and glam rock was pretty much all you had — things like Sweet and Mud — long hair, flares, platforms and mad outfits. But then all of a sudden you had these lads who looked like your mates, with short hair and tight pants, making this fast, aggressive music. And I loved it.

How did this lead into doing design?

Me and my mates thought, “We’ve got to get a band together.” So we met up at my mum’s house in Wigan, and I realised instantly that I couldn’t play guitar. I just couldn’t get my head around chords.

But I’d always been good at drawing. My dad was a fantastic illustrator, far better than me, but the opportunities for illustrators in Wigan in the 1940s were zero – so he worked as a coal miner and never did anything with it. But he was very much in favour of me doing drawing, and he always encouraged me.

And with punk, if you looked at the graphics and the visual identity, it felt like it was in reach. I think that was the point of it. Before punk, bands were like creatures from another planet — but with punk, the whole process was demystified – the man in the street could get involved. That was a massive inspiration to me.

So I married my love of the music with my talent for art, and thought that I’d become a sleeve designer instead.

It’s interesting how even in your early teens you knew exactly what you wanted to do.  

I remember doing this art foundation course, and the tutor was going around, asking us what we wanted to do when we finished our education. He came to me and I said, “I want to design record sleeves.” But straight away he said, “No, no, no – you can’t be so specific, you need to get a job in graphics and learn your way.”

I was almost derided for it – because not only was I going to do record sleeves, but I was going to go freelance from the get go. I think anyone can do it these days, because you just get a laptop and then you’re a graphic designer all of a sudden. But back then, not only was there no social media and no internet, but the equipment required to do the job of a graphic designer, the forerunner to Photoshop, cost £300,000. It was this machine called Quantel Paintbox.

What was that?

It was a computer, about the size of your house, with less power than your mobile phone. It was way out of my reach — I could hardly afford a paper and pencil.

What did you do then?

This punk style was really stark, with high contrast black and white, degraded imagery, and it just so happened that if you photocopied an image over and over, it went like that. And that was handy, because all I could afford to use was a photocopier.

There was a little print shop at the bottom of Library Street in Wigan, and I’d be in there all day, with a scalpel and a tin of glue, putting these things together in the shop – and that’s how it all started.

How did your first sleeve come about? Was that the Ruthless Rap Assassins one?

Yeah — I did a graffiti mural on the side of a warehouse in 1984, and it was noticed by a guy called Greg Wilson, who was a very influential DJ at that time. He’d thought to himself, I’m going to see this New York style graffiti in London or Manchester or Birmingham at some point, but he couldn’t believe it that he’d seen it in Wigan. He sent word out on the street that he wanted to meet whoever had done it, and I was summoned to his house. We ended up becoming friends and I did this sleeve. And then off it went from there.

What happened next then?

I then met Richard Ashcroft at a party and got chatting, but then The Verve got signed and I didn’t see him for another two years. I ended up bumping into him in a petrol station at six o’ clock in the morning. He said, “Wow, you’re that sleeve guy. We’ve just been signed – do you want the gig?”

So I went to London to have a meeting with Virgin, who The Verve were signed to. Vigin obviously had some big London agency lined up to do this work for The Verve, so they were horrified when Richard Ashcroft said he wanted this unknown student he’d met at a party in Wigan to do the artwork. But they were cool enough to think, “Well, this is what the band wanted.” And then after the first single came about, they were like, “Sorry we doubted you.”

What else were you doing at that time?

On the back of doing the stuff for The Verve, Suede got in touch. And then I met Noel Gallagher. I used to have an office in Manchester on New Mount Street in the same building as the Inspiral Carpets office, and I got chatting to him in the lift about trainers.

What were they?

They were a pair of adidas Indoor Super. I took my mother to Rome for her 60th birthday, and I found these trainers in some tiny backstreet shop.

Wasn’t the Oasis logo based roughly on the adidas logo?

The original was kind of the adidas font – but we binned it, because with the adidas font, the ‘A’ is just like an ‘o’ with a line on the side, so it just looked like ‘oosis’.

I did the logo in ’93, and then their first album came out in ’94. After Oasis it went buck-wild... Ash, Cast, even Atomic Kitten… it was mental.

Was it hard to keep up with it all?

No, because if you think about it, even a busy band back then would only put out three singles and an album out per year – so even if you’ve got five bands a year, that’s only twenty jobs a year. Mind you, it was labour intensive as there was no Photoshop.

I was going to ask you about that. As a lot of your images were done without Photoshop, ‘in camera’, how did you go about getting them? Creating an image like the Oasis Be Here Now cover doesn’t look easy.

This is a very important point to make. Because it was all shot on film – we didn’t have the luxury of looking at the back of the camera and seeing what we’d got. We had no idea what we’d got until we got the photos back from the lab. Imagine putting a Rolls Royce in a swimming pool and realising the photos weren’t exposed correctly.

Before the shoot, there’d be a massive process of research and preparation, so when the day comes, nothing was left to chance.

Were you given free reign with all this?

Yeah, it was a beautiful situation. With both The Verve and Oasis, the record companies just let us get on with it. All they did was pay for the bills. And that was great, because we knew what we were doing.

A lot of the Oasis ones are particularly complicated. What was the hardest one to pull off?

Putting a Rolls Royce in a pool was pretty tough. Finding a pool that someone’s going to let you put a Rolls Royce into was the hardest part. And then we had to find a Rolls Royce that wasn’t worth £50,000 – because Oasis weren’t that rich. It was a scrap Rolls Royce, with no engine in it, but it still cost us £1,000 to hire it. And then we had to get a crane and dangle it in.

How many shots did you take of that one?

That one was ridiculous, because like I said, we didn’t have the luxury of seeing what we’d shot. For that shoot there was something like 30 odd rolls of film, with 36 exposures on each roll – so it was almost a thousand frames of something that’s really just a still life. That’s excessive.

We stayed there that night, and then we got the films processed in London. Then there was the wait, like an expectant father.

How did you work out which was the best one, when you had a thousand pretty much identical photos to look at?

It was like snow blindness. We’d start with the obvious non-starters, and whittle it down and down. It was a very laborious process of elimination, but we didn’t know any other way.

Do you think this real life, ‘in camera’ method of creating these really detailed images helped elevate them a bit?

By that point we could have easily Photoshopped it, but we just did things for real because it was our trademark, and I enjoyed doing things that way. We started doing it that way out of necessity, because we couldn’t afford computers – but even when we could afford them, we still did things the real way as we preferred it.

And it must have been more fun that sitting around staring at a computer.

Yeah – I loved it. Just to see a Rolls Royce in a swimming pool – it looked amazing.

What about the Definitely Maybe cover? Obviously now that’s talked about as being one of the best record covers of all time, but were people saying that when it was released?

No, they weren’t. It’s all very well saying things with the benefit of hindsight. It’s just been voted as one of the top 70 record sleeves of all time – and do you know what? I’m not going to rain on my own parade, because I think it’s a great sleeve — but had that been for a band you’d never heard of, it wouldn’t be in the top 70.

I suppose there’s a lot that’s tied in with that. The memories that come with it and everything else – it’s a full package. What was the story behind the Definitely Maybe cover?

It’s an anti-band shot. That was the idea. There’s a Beatles album called A Collection of Beatles Oldies (but Goldies!), and on the back there’s this shot of them in this dressing room in Japan. And I just loved the fly on the wall nature of it – none of them were looking at the camera. And whilst it looks nothing like Definitely Maybe, that’s where the inspiration came from.

That documentary style?

Precisely. The band are having their picture took, and they’re all watching the telly.

It’s designed to look candid, but what was the reality of it?

It was incredibly staged. It’s too perfect of a composition to just happen. We positioned everyone very carefully. Even the still on the television was specifically chosen – it’s the shot in The Good, the Bad and the Ugly where he’s got him by the face. It was paused on VHS. That’s how meticulous it was.

A lot of your sleeves are photography-based. Was there a particular reason for this?

My favourite record sleeves, with the exceptions of Never Mind the Bollocks, are photographically based. I just think it’s the best way of doing it. And that’s why, in the cases of both The Verve and Oasis, there’s very little intrusion with type or logos.

With The Verve, the logo would be in the shot, and with Oasis, the logo would be in the top corner. We’d spend ages coming up for the idea and staging the shoot, we didn’t want to ruin it by plastering a logo in front of it.

It seemed like there was definite styles for each band you worked with. Your covers for The Verve always had real text in the photo. Was that a faff to do that? Setting the letters on fire on the Storm in Heaven cover looked tough.

Yes, it was. I had the letters made by a steel fabricator in Oldham, and covered them with this cladding that street jugglers use when they’re juggling fire, and then poured paraffin onto it. The only downside was that the letters gave off loads of smoke – and because we were in a cave, it just wouldn’t clear. We were having to wait about half an hour in-between each shot for the smoke to clear.

Where did the idea for that one come from?

I’d never seen letters set on fire and photographed before, but I just thought it’d look good. I do a lot of lecturing at colleges, and I always say, much to the chagrin of the lecturers, that you don’t have to explain everything away. Some things you just do because they look good – there’s no further explanation required.

Very true. Maybe a tough question, especially considering what you’ve just said… but what makes a good record cover?

What makes a good record? You just know, don’t you? There can be a thousand reasons why one might be bad, but I can’t think of one reason why one will be good. There’s no formula to it. It’s down to the individual too – it’s all opinion.

What do you think the purpose of a record cover is? Is it marketing, or is it art?

I don’t think it’s a marketing tool — I’d regard it as a bonus for the fans. I don’t think it sells records. I’ve bought the odd record because of the sleeve, but then again, I’m a sleeve designer.

Were the covers always influenced by the music – or sometimes did you just have an idea you wanted to use on something?

No — that never happened. We were quite vehement about that. Every sleeve was like a bespoke suit, cut for that particular piece of music.

From what I’ve read, you weren’t just some guy in an office sending off designs to the bands – you were involved with the bands a lot more, going on tours and things like that.

I was of the opinion that the more I got my head around what the band were into and how they thought, the better the visuals could be… and hanging around with a rock and roll band is good fun. I toured American with both Oasis and The Verve, but it was mad, because I was the only person on the tour-bus who had nothing to do.

What was it like being around those bands when they suddenly became massive?

It was all a bit weird really. Anybody will tell you this – the best bit of any band is that bit when they just start taking off. The best bits are when it’s still pretty innocent.

Did you have a few people working for you by that point?

Yeah – but it was never massive. At Microdot’s peak, there was five or six of us. In the late 90s we started branching out into all sorts of mad stuff. We were running night-clubs, we were publishing magazines, we were managing bands… at one point there was talk of importing Volkswagen Beetles from Mexico.

A brilliant idea.

I’d gone to Mexico on holiday, and I kept seeing these old Beetles. They were still making them there, and we’d worked out that if we shipped them back to England, and even if we turned them right hand drive, we could still make £2,000 on every one we sold. If we sold 500 of them, we’d make a million quid.

We were all set to go, but Volkswagen head office in Germany had told the Mexicans they couldn’t sell us the cars, as they reckoned it’d harm the Golf market in the UK.

But it would have been mint.

I know. So we then tried the Brazilians as they were making them there too – and this was so Microdot it was untrue. On the street in Shoreditch where we had our studio, there was a little café called Franco’s that was run by a Portuguese family. Now they don’t speak Spanish in Brazil – they speak Portuguese, so I went in to Franco’s one day and I said I’d give the man who worked behind the counter a tenner if he’d come to the office, and speak down the phone to Volkswagen HQ in Sao Paulo. He did it, but it still didn’t happen.

What do you mean by things being, “so Microdot.” Was there a certain attitude there?

Absolutely. The reason why it was like that was because I didn’t have any experience of working in an agency. I had no idea how things should be done — we were just making things up as we were going along.

It was bonkers. When we moved to London, we had enough money from Alan McGee to buy this computer, and to set up a studio in Shoreditch. But in this mad rush to move to London, I’d forgotten that we needed somewhere to live, so me and Matt, the lad who worked with me, had to live in the studio. There was one room, and a toilet, and we lived in there for four months. We had a couch that you could take the cushions off, and we’d take it in turns every night – one of us sleeping on the couch, one of us sleeping on the cushions on the floor.

And we could party hard, because we knew that the only person we had to answer to the following day had been out with us previous night – there was no way Noel Gallagher was going to ring us at nine in the morning, because we’d just left him at seven in the morning. There’d be occasions when a client would turn up, and there’d be somebody asleep on the floor in the studio.

Nowadays you do all sorts of stuff – and amongst various design bits, you’ve been photographing northern soul nights. How did this come about?

That was a massive project for me. It started in 2012, when the renaissance was under way. A friend of mine from Wigan said that I should go along to this club run by these kids who were into northern soul.

I was very aware that when you take photographs of people dancing in dark rooms, they just look like statues at a wedding, but I wanted to get some soul or some atmosphere into the shot, so I thought I’ll use an off-camera flash.

I went to this club-night with my mate John, who was going to be my lighting guy, holding my flash in his hand, at a 45 degree angle to me. But when we get there, his phone rings — his wife was pregnant and her car had got a puncture — so that was my lighting gone. So I just put the light on the stage or on the floor, and worked around that, and the results I got were astonishing, purely by accident – I got these massive long shadows, cast from behind.

I suppose that comes from the same place as your record covers – you’re a fan.

Absolutely. Growing up in Wigan in the 1970s made it kind of inevitable to be a northern soul fan.

Alright, I think I’ve pretty much ran out of questions now. Have you got any wise words or anything to finish this off?

Never give in.

[cyberramblings]

Ex-CoD Kid’s Thoughts on the New One

I wanna talk about Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. This is 2019′s Call of Duty game (there is one every year). This is a little confusing because it is a reboot of the Modern Warfare sub-series that started with 2007′s Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare. The first three Call of Duty games were set in World War II, which is funny since the whole series is now associated with a modern or near-future setting in most of the games, to the point where 2017′s Call of Duty: WWII stood out by being set in World War II again, which hadn’t been done since 2008′s Call of Duty: World at War (which was the first one to ditch the numbers and also the first one I got into as a kid).

Anyways, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare (the 2019 game, which I will now call MW) is one of the biggest leaps the series has taken in a while. These games are kind of notorious for not changing much from entry to entry. The Call of Duty franchise is also kind of notorious for alternating between three different developers in order to crank out a game every year. This gets a little weird because obviously the franchise as a whole shares a lot of traits and code in common, but for example, the Modern Warfare subseries and its corresponding characters can only be touched by one of the three developers, while another of the developers has exclusive rights to the Black Ops subseries and its characters. All this to say that yes, a new Call of Duty game, but the folks (Infinity Ward) who make it only get to make a new one every third year (formerly every other year until the PS4/Xbox One era).

Well, I guess what I mean to say here is that the Call of Duty games tend to be two steps forward, one step back. There’s actually relatively little consensus on which features to include or throw away between games. 2018′s Call of Duty: Black Ops 4 got rid of regenerating health, only for 2019′s MW to bring it back, but also bring back Black Ops 4′s healthkit item. Imagine that times a hundred every year. Even Call of Duty fans usually don’t agree on which features should return or not.

So with that all being said, MW introduces the most new features that I can recall in a Call of Duty going all the way back to its namesake (CoD4) which either invented or popularized the modern model for picking a loadout and unlocking new items for it. I want to run through a few of them and why I like them.

1 - Attachments Reborn

Call of Duty has long featured attachments for guns as an integral part of multiplayer gameplay. At first, you would have to pick between a scope or a silencer or more bullets. The red dot sights were so popular that some of the games introduced ways to have multiple attachments, but at the cost of other parts of your loadout, such as forgoing grenades. MW finally, gloriously allows you to have up to five attachments on your gun with no tradeoff.

It also features far more attachments than before, up to 70 on some guns as opposed to the dozen or so maximum before. This is because there are multiple subvariants of suppressor, stock, laser, nearly two dozen scopes even if they mostly fall under a handful of categories. This also means that attachments are less of a pure upgrade and more of a trade off, but this means you can transform almost every gun into more of a short range weapon or long range weapon. It’s really satisfying to transform a gun into something it’s not, especially when you need to for...

2 - Camo Challenges

Call of Duty the last decade has featured unlockable camouflage patterns as a reward. At first, they were an incentive to get headshots with each weapon, then later special camo challenges would be unlocked after getting all the headshot-based camos. MW skips that first step and has you unlocking  ten categories of camo challenges, each with ten camos each as you complete the specific task. At first, the challenges are things like getting kills, getting headshots, getting kills while crouching, but later they become getting 3 kills in a row, getting kills from far away, etc.

What this essentially means is that every single gun in the game has 100 little milestones of progress and each of those milestones has a tangible cosmetic reward that even other players can see. After getting all 100 camos for a gun, you get the 101st camo: Gold! But it gets better: getting Gold for every gun one of a certain type (assault rifle, pistol, etc.) unlocks Platinum for all guns of that type! One step further: getting Platinum for every gun type (and thus Gold for every gun) unlocks Damascus (named after Damascus Steel), which is a cool multicolored camo. More importantly, it shows that you spent a lot of time getting these challenges done. And most importantly, it basically means that you can “beat” the multiplayer of MW.

I really like this because it gives me a goal to work towards, even if I don’t stand much of a chance of ever actually completing. It was really cool to pick a gun as my favorite right off the bat then use it at close range, long range, etc. as I completed all the milestones and unlocked all 100 camos for it, which let me “beat” that gun and move on to the next one. On one hand, I can see how the game becomes less fun when it is just a grind for these camos, but on the other hand, it is really cool to have a goal to work towards, and I have never felt as attached to the unlocks in a Call of Duty since I was a kid. I’ve almost never played Hardcore mode (a Call of Duty staple that takes away your crosshair and minimap and reduces everyone’s health) but it has become my go-to for getting some of these challenges done, and now I really have a taste for it.

3 - The Rest

MW has a bunch of other little new features that aren’t as life changing, but I wanted to mention anyways. The visuals, animation, and sound design are much improved and much more realistic. The gun sways so much more realistically as you walk forward, for example. The nighvision missions of the single player mode particularly look realistic since they’re just green. The campaign itself is much better than other recent Call of Duty’s, but it is still ultimately forgettable at the end of the day if slightly more enjoyable. I did appreciate that it gives you rewards for the multiplayer mode instead of expecting you to play it just to play it. MW also brings back the Spec Ops coop mode from prior games but with unlocks and XP tied to multiplayer, which is nice, but I’d rather just play multiplayer.

Speaking of, MW lets you toggle which modes you do or don’t want to play online instead of having to pick one mode to play, which is nice because otherwise, certain modes never get played online, especially as the game ages. Also this CoD features special “Missions” that you have to commit to focusing on one at a time that unlock free gun cosmetics (slightly different looking attachments and versions of guns) that offer yet another way to be rewarded for just playing the game, while also helping to make me experience different playstyles.

Of course, this CoD also features a free battle royale mode that seems to be a big success, and I enjyo it fairly well, but it can’t compare to the nonstop action of normal multiplayer. Also this CoD features crossplay sorted by controller typer, so I can get matched with Xbox players or PC players but only if they’re using a controller rather than a mouse and keyboard. This is great because it lets me play the free battle royale mode with my dad on my PC while he is on the PS4, so we can each have our own screen.

Also I appreciate that this game offers splitscreen at all, even if it can’t be used in battle royale, Spec Ops coop mode, or even the larger multiplayer maps such as the brand new Ground War, which features big maps, vehicles, and selectable spawn points just like the FPS competitor Battlefield. It feels a little janky, but it is nice to have the option when I need to blow up vehicles or shoot people from very far away for a challenge.

Oh, you can also reload while aiming down the sights. That’s new. Plus you can mount your gun on a waist high surface to reduce recoil, but it just ends up being annoying since you are forced to do it for challenges. Also this is minor, but certain weak killstreaks or overpowered perks have been turned into “field upgrades”, a usable ability with a cooldown. I like this because they’re not quite like an “ultimate ability” in Overwatch or Black Ops 3/4, but they add a tiny bit of a skill ceiling and agency.

Oh! This is also the first CoD in a long time to not feature a 50 dollar season pass that just provides a little over a dozen multiplayer maps. For context, the other big shooters (Rainbow Six, Counter Strike, Overwatch, Paladins, Battlefield) don’t charge for maps and haven’t in years, since it just divides the playerbase and makes matchmaking harder.

This CoD also doesn’t lock new guns behind lootboxes, which had become a big problem for the last several games. Furthermore, this game doesn’t feature lootboxes at all, which is a new development in the right direction. Instead, this game has pricey (10-20 bucks) cosmetic bundles in the style of Fortnite and a battle pass (again like Fortnite, but almost every game has this now).

Conclusion

So what’s the takeaway? Well, I know Call of Duty is a very popular game that doesn’t need defending, but I really think this new one is special and very much pro-consumer. I refused to get excited for it before release after years of microtransaction-riddled cash grabs, but this one is a real breath of fresh air. There is a lot of content here, and they provide more for free. You get to play all the new maps and modes for free and unlock the new guns for free. The battle royale and normal multiplayer are both getting a lot of support and constant content. I just hope this game doesn’t drive off the edge of a cliff when this year’s new game comes out, but that is a whole other topic (there are rumors, but nothing has been confirmed about this year’s Call of Duty if there even is one. It would need to come out pretty soon, despite no information about it existing. If there isn’t one, it would be the first year since 2004 without one, but this most recent game has been pretty exceptional in my opinion and Corona couldn’t be predicted).

[avengerscompound]

Felicity 1

Felicity 1:  A Valkyrie Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Brunnhilde x F!Reader

Word Count:  1506

Warnings:  PTSD, Life as on Sakaar as a slave, Reader is a kind of sex worker/slave but also not, but you know, keep that in mind before plunging in. Powered reader, smut (F|F, vaginal fingering)

Synopsis:  Everyone has their role on Sakaar, if they like it or not.

Felicity 1

You had known drinking with Brunnhilde was a mistake.  You’d seen her in action.  She drank most days after all.  She didn’t let you in on much, but no one comes to Sakaar without loss and hers seem to run deep to her core.  Her life was a series of distractions filled with ways to pay for those distractions.  She trained, she collected the scrap, she bet on the fights, she drank.  She drank a lot.  More than most men five times her size.  Nothing numbed pain like booze.

When that failed there was you.

Brunnhilde didn’t use her real name very often.  On Sakaar the only names that were important were the ones given to you by the Grandmaster.  If he favored you, you might get to use your own.  It was rare but it happened from time to time.   He took them from you, because names had power.  That didn’t stop other people from using them with each other though.  He could try and take your identity.  Break you down so you were nothing but Courtesan 087 or Fighter 698 or junker 043.  He couldn’t stop other’s calling you by your real name though, and many in private used them.  It was the only time you had an identity.

Not for Brunnhilde.  She used Scrapper 142.  She wore it like she wore her armor.  It protected her from being hurt in a way no blade ever could.

She allowed the Hulk to call her Angry girl.  He was probably the closest thing she had to a friend, so his pet name snuck in.  Giving her a little more personality.  Something new she could lose.  It still wasn’t her exactly.   Just a small aspect.  No one here got all of her.

No one except you.

When Brunnhilde came to you it was at her most raw.  It was when her old life started to bleed through.

Today had been one of those days.  She’d come in distressed and already halfway to being extremely drunk.

“I need you,”  She said as she’d almost fallen through your door.

Just that and it was enough.  Brunnhilde had come to see you and you wouldn’t let her be alone on Sakaar when she was so vulnerable.

Only now you were plastered.  She was holding you up as you staggered along with her.  “Wait… wait… I’ll carry you.”  She said.

“No… no… you can’t…”   You slurred.  It was in vain.  By the time you said can’t, you were cradled in her arms and giggling uncontrollably.

She carried you to your chambers.  Hers were stark and often littered with garbage.  Yours, on the other hand, were warm and welcoming.  She had her role on Sakaar.  You had yours and yours meant that people needed to feel comfortable when they came to see you.

“Let’s take a bath.”  She said as the doors slid closed behind you.

“Let me down and I’ll start it up, Brunnhilde.”  You said, cradling her jaw and kissing her cheek.

She closed her eyes and something in her softened.  Scrapper 142 was slipping away and Brunnhilde was taking over again.

She set you to your feet and you went to you large gold tub and began running the water.   You added some scented oils to it, to help her relax more.   She needed that most of all.

“How often does he come here?”  Brunnhilde asked as he fingers brushed over the sheer curtains that hang around your bed.

“He who?”  You asked, beginning to undress.

“You know who I’m talking about.”  She snapped.

You recoiled a little.  The role you played on Sakaar made people react in different ways.  Some remained detached during the process.  Not wanting to connect just wanting to let go.  Others wanted the connection most but it made them jealous that they weren't the only ones who got it.  Brunnhilde only cared that you had a lack of agency.  That you saw who you were told to see and your own feelings didn’t come into the decision making process.  Her fury about it only bubbled out when it was Brunhilde you were talking to, but it was a fury.  Not just about your slavery.  It was about everyone’s and her life now and the things she had lost.

“Less now he has the shapeshifter.  He’s definitely into his new plaything.”  You said, coming over to her.  “I’m sure when his interest wanes he’ll start returning.”

She grimaced and as you started helping her off with her armor she cupped your jaw and caressed your cheek with your thumb.  “I hate thinking about his hands on you.”

“Then don’t think about it.”  You said.  “Let’s bathe.  I am so drunk that I’m not even sure I can do this properly.  It might have to wait until the morning.”

She frowned and let you undress her.  You carefully laid out her armor and led her into the tub.   Brunnhilde liked to be the big spoon, so you lay against her, listening to the sound of her heartbeat.

“You remind me of her,”  She said as she started relaxing in the tub.

“Of who?”  You asked.

“My … she and I… before…”  She stuttered.

You reached behind you and stroked your fingers over her cheek.  “Do you want to remember or forget?”

She shook her head.  “She was so strong and so selfless.  It was always about other people over herself.  It should have been me that died.  It should have been me.”

You turned and sat up on your knees.  “She sounds amazing.”  You said, leaning in and ghosting your lips up her neck.  “Why do you say she’s like me?”

“It’s never about you.”  She said.  “Just about having other people cope with this hellscape.  Even the man who has trapped us in it.  What about you?  Who takes care of you?”

“We all have our roles to play.”  You said and kissed her.

She pulled you down against her and pushed her thigh up against your pussy.  You rocked against it, the water splashing up the side of the tub.  You ran your hands down her form, cupping her breasts and squeezing them gently.  She pushed up against your hands and rocked against your thigh.

“Please.  Please. I can’t do this.”  She pleaded with you.

You kissed her throat.  The pain was radiating from her.  Drunk as you both were and as badly as she felt, it was going to hurt.  “Okay,”  You said, running your hands through her hair.  “Okay, Brunnhilde.  Relax and let it happen.”

You brought your fingers to her clit and began rubbing it in small circles as you rocked against her leg.  You could feel her release coming and your eyes began to glow a deep purple as you fed of it.   Like the coil that was winding inside her was pulling on something in you.  You moved your hand faster and pulled a nipple into your mouth.  “Please,”  She moaned as she bucked up against you.

“Relax, let it happen,”  You purred.  “It’ll be over soon.”

You kept moving your hand and letting her grind against your thigh.  The water splashed in the bath as she bucked under you.  Her body seized up suddenly and she came and with her orgasm came a rush of emotions and memories and the feeling of trying to dull them with alcohol.  It was like being hit.  You reeled back from her and scrambled out of the tub, running to the sink and throwing up.

“I’m sorry,”  She said, her voice sounding numb and slightly hollow, even as she panted.

You wiped your mouth and shook your head.  “It is my role.”

“It isn’t fair to you.  You are so good, and I am weak.”  She stepped out of the water and wrapped herself in a towel.  You turned to face her, but your legs were weak and they gave out under you.

She wrapped you in a towel and carried you to bed.

“Don’t feel guilty.  This place crushes you.  We have to survive somehow.”  You said.  “I am just honored that you let me help you.  To see that part of you.  When you were leader of the Valkyrie.  Most here are nothing.”

She shook her head.  “Please don’t, I’ll remember sooner and then I’ll need to do this again.”

You caressed her jaw and leaned up and kissed her.  She did not return it.  Why would she?  She was no longer Brunnhilde.  Just Scrapper 142.  People came to you to get what they needed.  For many it was hope.  Or their memories of their family.  Some it was just the rush of pleasure that with you was amped up like a hit with powerful drugs.  Brunnhilde liked to forget.  She used alcohol to do it most of the time, but you were stronger.

“Goodbye, Felicity 1,”  She said, kissing your forehead and going to redress.

You smiled sadly.  Felicity 1 was your role.  You had now filled it.  “Goodbye, Scrapper 142.  I hope your pleasure sustains you.”