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subwaysurf45 · 2 years

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Our Home to Heal (Ep.5)

Summary: working at the VA, you’ve found your place. helping people in the sobriety unit as well as cooking for the food bank, the VA had everything for you. Bucky Barnes has a not-so-good first impression but after dealing with a dark recent past he finds you to help him heal.

Episode: Five

Words: 5,559 (I got carried away...)

Warning: Sexual themes, getting ‘turned on’ in public, talks of relapse, grief, loss, this seems harsh but it’s fluffy trust me.

Our Home to Heal Series II Main Masterlist

The doors to the gym pushed open fast with the winter wind, they almost smacked the wall but Bucky caught them before that. His gym bag strap sat comfortably on his right shoulder, his membership card flipped between the fingers of his left hand. He couldn’t remember his life before going to the gym, it was a part of him at this point. It had been five days since he opened up and slept over at your house, the feeling of your fingers massaging his back was still imprinted onto him. But he was better, happier, now that he had you. Not literally, there was no title.

“Hey,” he spoke softly as he showed his membership.

“Good morning,” the teenager who worked the cash was too tired this morning, and every morning. It was five in the morning, he was the only one in the gym.

Bucky made his way to the changerooms, his bag starting to dig in his shoulder. Bucky used to wear a tight compression long sleeve and sweatpants that he would show up to the gym in. But now he rocked a tank top and shorts, the vibranium didn’t phase the teen, whose name was Kathryne, most likely because she slept at the front desk.

His shoes were already tied, all he had to do was slip them on. With a quick swipe of deodorant and a few clouds of power, Bucky was back out to the turf ground. He’d start with stretching, mainly focusing on his back and hips. Bucky liked weight training, he found it exhilarating but he also knew he had to work on cardio and endurance. He’d zone out the entire time he was running on the treadmill, thinking about you. He’d think about your lips and your smile, maybe Cleo and something funny she did. But today he was thinking about something very particular. He FaceTimed you last night and was met with the camera pointing to the ceiling. After questioning, the camera moved and showed you wrapped in only a towel, water still dripping off your shoulders. You casually talked about your day, cleaning your face and flossing your teeth but he couldn’t help but stare at your body. He hated himself for it, the shame creeping up on him out of nowhere. You were just telling him about your day, about the fun things you did, and he was objectifying you, you didn’t ask to be, but he hated that he did anyway.

The idea ate away at him as he moved to the squat rack, his jaw tight. All he wanted to do was see you without that light blue towel but he wanted to make you comfortable, he didn’t want to be like all these other guys who’d catcall you when you were walking together. After loading the plates he went to the bar, the picture of you sent his heart racing. He squatted down, a deep breath letting go, he pushed back up and took a second to breathe. He kept going, up and down, thinking of you instead of his form.

“Fuck,” he mumbled on his last rep, jolting forward and racking it which allowed him to step back and breathe. As he moved to different machines his mind couldn’t seem to move from the FaceTime between the two of you out of his head. He tried everything but nothing was working, no matter what exercise he did, he always made his way back to picture you.

“Oh, god…” he mumbled as he looked in the mirror, finding the reason for a tight feeling in his gym shorts, “I need to leave.” Bucky hadn't finished his workout but he was now, he’d normally shower at the gym but he changed fast and got on his motorcycle as quickly as possible. It was very uncomfortable but he needed to get home, the sheets of ice caused bumps and drifts while riding the bike.

The door to his apartment was shoved open, his gym bag thrown on the floor as he ran to his bathroom. The shame started to creep back in as he stood there, his eyes focusing on the bump in his sweatpants, all because he thought of you.

The water was scorching hot, as he stepped in a hiss came from between his teeth. After adjusting, Bucky fully stood in his shower, one hand pressed against the wall and his head bowing down, letting the water run off his back. Shallow and short breaths filled his space as his mind fought itself, he shouldn’t be thinking about you this way but he couldn’t stop it. You didn’t ask to be thought about in the shower, he hated himself that he couldn’t just turn it off. His body ached as he fought the urge, anger rose at the loss of control.

The shower turned off and Bucky got out, grabbing the towel. He checked his phone and it was six in the morning, you weren’t up but he needed to see you. The towel he used to dry off his body and hair, he wrapped around his waist as he went to his bedroom to find a change of clothes. His apartment was strangely empty compared to yours, he liked the sound of talking in the background and a cat always meowing. It was so quiet he heard the sound of his thoughts over the sound of the heater.

His hands were shoved in his pockets as he made his way to your apartment, the decision to not take his bike was coming back to bite him but the road hadn’t been salted yet by the city. No one was on the streets, the sky starting to turn colour. As he walked he could see his erratic breath, the worry eating away at him. What if I tell her I’m thinking about her like that and she gets uncomfortable? What if she calls me a creep and kicks me out? Or what if she calls Sam and he comes to kick my ass?

A loud knock woke you up, it was an hour before your alarm was going to go off. Cleo was up and running to the door, you were still lying in bed. One pillow was turned on its side, vaguely resembling a human to hug when falling asleep. The knock came again and you got up, your robe was on the ground and was picked up and tied around you. The knock came against and you just groaned, the New York way of telling someone you’re coming to the door.

“Bucky?” your eyes were barely open, your mind filled with sleep.

“Hi,” he seemed out of breath.

“It’s six-thirty, what are you doing here?” your voice was grumpy and quiet.

“I-...” he just stood there, “can I come in?”

“I mean you’re already here,” you moved out of the way and Bucky walked in, his eyes scanning the room. “What’s wrong? Do you want coffee?”

Bucky turned to you, “I need to tell you something and sure I’ll take some coffee,” his chest was rising and falling quickly.

“You already seemed jazzed but okay,” you rubbed your eyes and walked over to your coffee pot, it had enough water.

Bucky took a seat on one of your bar stools and watched you get the coffee ready, his fingers tapped on the counter and would snap at Cleo to try and call her over. You kept looking over to see his worried face, you thought he was in trouble with a bad guy and he needed to lay low for a while. Which you would say yes to, he was always welcome here.

“What’s your schedule for today?” Bucky asked.

“I have a group session and I need to help decorate the front lobby for the holiday party that’s in two days,” you leaned against the counter, the coffee maker progressively getting louder. “I actually have something to ask you, I was going to do it later in the day but since you’re here I might as well ask you now.” You walked over to get the cups, your brain rehearsing the speech you practice in the mirror every night.

“I need to tell you something first, it might change how you… see me,” Bucky rubbed his face, wiping off the shame.

“No, nothing will change how I see you Bucky, I’ve told you that.” You poured the coffee into the two mugs, handing one to Bucky. “I’m asking first because you woke me up so early,” you walked to the island and looked at him, one deep breath was shared between the two of you.

“Okay,” he said uneasily.

Both hands wrapped around your hot mug, “I would like you to come with me to the holiday party in two days,” you looked up at him.

“Is Sam going to be there?” Bucky asked.

“No,” you let out a breath, “just me and you,” your eyebrows raised, trying to make him get the hint.

“What are you doing with your face?” he pointed to his own eyebrows but was talking about yours.

“I want you to come to the holiday party, as my plus one, and maybe more than that.” Your eyes squinted, trying to see if he got it now. Your stomach was flipping like crazy. You just looked at Bucky, noticing the damp tips of his hair and the flush on his cheeks. He had really put on muscle since going to the gym regularly, he seemed too large for your tiny apartment.

Bucky nodded and looked away, his eyes finding Cloe. “Yeah, I’ll go as a plus one, do most people bring their friends?” He smiled as he asked, completely oblivious.

You sighed and dropped your head, taking a deep breath in made you smell the coffee. “It’s too early for this,” you muttered, “no, most people bring significant others,” you added emphasis on the last two words.

“Then why are you bringing me?” He took a sip of his coffee.

You let out a deep breath and wiped your face, “well I hope it’s not just me who feels this but,” you looked up to the ceiling to steady yourself before asking, Bucky brought the mug to his lips, “I want you to go as my boyfriend.”

Bucky leaned in and spat out his coffee, the hot beverage spraying your face. “Oh, God!” Bucky stood up and ran over to you, grabbing a tea towel and violently wiping off your face, “that was a surprise, I’m so sorry.” You just stood there in shock as he ran around to try and fix everything, “you’re robe!” he was going to untie it.

“No!” you yelled, taking a step back, “I’m basically naked under here!” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Shit,” Bucky was reminded of what he wanted to tell you. You both stood there for a couple of seconds, catching your breath. After a while you both composed yourselves, Bucky walked up and took your hand into his. “I would love to go as your boyfriend, but I need to tell you something and you might not like it.”

“Just tell me,” you sighed, wiping the coffee off your eyebrow. At this point all you wanted was to get back in bed and miss the session today, it was too early and the coffee hadn’t kicked in yet.

“I’ve been… thinking about you,” his eyes looked at the floor, “in a certain way.”

“Explain?” you furrowed your brows, “I think about you too.”

“No,” Bucky shook his head, “I think about you and something happens, I get a feeling and I think you wouldn’t be happy about it.” His hand dropped yours, “and I’m so mad at myself for thinking of you in that way but I can’t help it sometimes, you just pop in and I can’t push you out. You never asked to be thought about like that, what gives me the right to do that to you?” His eyes were only looking at the floor, never flicking up.

“Thought about in what way?” you leaned your hip on the counter.

“In a,” he paused, “sexual way…” he slowly looked up to see a smirk on your face, “you’re not mad?” he asked.

You shook your head and pulled him in for a hug, “I think it’s very cute you told me, it shows how much you care about that stuff.” your arms wrapped around his neck, his hands held your waist. “And you know what? You might not have control over that sometimes and that’s okay, and honestly… I’ve thought about you like that before…” you pulled back to see his face extremely red.

“Really?” he whispered, “me?”

“Yeah, you,” you smiled and ran your fingers through his hair, “you’re smoking hot.”

“Oh, god,” he muttered and covered his face, “thanks, so are you.” His hands stayed on your hips, slowly pawing at the robe, “very comfy,” he whispered. You just giggled and kept your hand on the back of his neck, slowly playing with his hair. Bucky’s eyes couldn't meet yours, his head was tilted down. “Um,” he paused again, “I would love to go to your holiday party as your boyfriend, I think it’ll be nice,” he looked up and smiled. “Does that mean we’re going to be dating in two days or right now?”

All you could do was laugh, your forehead touching his. Bucky let out a soft huff, realizing what he had said. “I think we can start right now,” you whispered. His hand moved to the small of your back, pushing you closer. You could smell his shampoo with how close you were, it was obvious he showered before coming here.

“Then we should kiss, because, y’know,” he cleared his throat, “that’s what boyfriends and girlfriends do these days, right?” You could see his teeth flash a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled.

All you had to do was nod. Bucky swooped in and kissed you, his hands instinctively balling up your robe in his fists. Your hands shifted and cupped his cheeks, feeling the stubble under your palms. His hands pushed you towards him and he moved closer, you were now hip to hip. Your arms moved to try to get closer, even though it was physically impossible, they looped around his neck and you turned your head to the side. His tongue broke through and you let it, softly nipping at his bottom lip.

You both pulled away out of breath, both of you holding it for as long as possible. Bucky just stood there and smiled, his thumbs brushing your hips after moving his hands back. “That was really nice,” he whispered. “I’m happy my first kiss, back as me, was with you.”

In the background you could faintly hear your alarm going off, “me too,” you whispered, “but I need to get ready for the day, you’re more than welcome to hang here if you’d like. I’ll be back home at around four,” you pulled away and smiled. As you backed up to a normal distance you could still feel his lips on your, there was a tickle from his stubble on your cheek.

“I actually need to head out,” Bucky smiled, “but I’ll swing by for dinner?” he asked.

You nodded and went back for a hug, “of course,” your arms squeezing him tight before breaking away to find your phone which was still ringing off the alarm.

He walked with you to the bedroom but broke away to the front door, “bye, Cleo!” he called over his shoulder, he got a meow back.

You heard the door close as you turned off your alarm, you also heard the sound of Cleo’s gallops as she entered the room. You picked her up before heading back into the kitchen, it was a simple breakfast type of day. Cleo nuzzled against your face, most likely feeling the heat radiating off of it. She took her typical spot on the corner of your counter and watched you get out the pan and toaster, going through the same routine of begging for food even though she had a full bowl beside the fridge.

It didn’t take long to get to the VA building, you were here early to hang up some decorations for the party. It was normally held in the main lobby and also in the eating area near the kitchen. Charles, the head chef, always made an amazing meal. You opened the totes and began taking out all the lights and little knick-knacks, a few you’d save for your own room. There was no music playing in the lobby but you hummed a tune anyways, a buzz ran through you now knowing you were someone’s girlfriend. As you hung up a string of lights you looked back at how long it took you to really come to the fact that you liked him, you were always physically attracted to him, he’s a very cute guy, but there was an emotional attachment that you needed. The night you both opened up and he stayed over, you both ended up in the only bed after a short dispute on who was going to take the couch.

“Just to…” he trailed off, “let you know,” his fingers played with your sheets, “I get nightmares sometimes so if you hear me yell it’s just that and if I get up I don’t want you to think I’m running away, I’m just getting some water.”

“Wake me up if you need water,” you flipped around to look at him, the lights were already off and you both slept back to back, “or if you have a nightmare and I don’t wake up.”

“That’s okay,” he shrugged you off, “I don’t need all that.”

“I don’t care,” you hand cupped his cheek, “you don’t know where the cups are for water so you actually have to wake me up.”

“Fine,” he copied your smirk, “good night.” but you both stayed facing one another.

You smiled at the memory as you finished the strand of lights, he did wake you up to help find a glass of water. The entire time his hand was either holding yours or on your back, needing to feel grounded. Quickly shaking your head you went back to the tote, other people were helping so it was going quick.

Medea was placing a few snow globes on the front desk, you’d catch her shaking and watching before letting it be. The very tall lady was the head of the amputee group session, she’d been working at the VA longer than you or Sam. over time you two had become friends, the lunch dates and coffee runs were always fun with her. When you first met Bucky, part of you wanted to tell Medea about him, maybe slip her a tip like his phone number and see if she could convince him to join. Looking back on it now it was almost stalker-ish to do that, all you wanted was for him to be happy and it took a second for you to realize him being happy is Bucky getting and making choices around his own life.

“Oh, hey!” Medea smiled as she walked back to the tote, her braids were pulled back with a thick ponytail, “I didn’t even see you, how have you been?” Her hand touched your shoulder. She was a very touchy person, and hugs were her specialty.

“Pretty good,” you groaned as you bent down to pick up another strand of lights, “are you?”

“I always love the holiday season, it just makes me happy, y’know?” her pierced nose scrunched. “Are you coming to the holiday party?” She was also trying to look busy by untangling the same strand of lights you were working on.

“I am,” at the confirmation, she let out a deep breath, “and I might be bringing someone with me…” you added, your eyes slowly trailing up to meet her face.

“Tell me you’re lying,” when you shook your head Medea jumped up and down, the strand of lights forgotten, “I'm so happy for you, this is amazing!” all at once her arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you in for a hug, you both rocked back and forth as she squealed. “What’s their name?”

When you pulled away your hands moved to her shoulders, “Bucky Barnes,” you saw her face drop, “he’s no longer the host body for the Winter Soldier, no worries there.” you paused and took a deep breath, “Sam and I tried at one point to get him into your sessions and he’s said no, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t push him as well because that will feel like a setup.”

“Can I still meet him?” Her voice was soft.

“Of course,” you smiled and pulled her back into a hug, a sigh left your lips knowing she wasn’t worried about the Winter Soldier.

The lights flickered on when you walked into your room like they always did. You were in this room every day and it seemed to never get old, it was a second home to you. There was a bit of time before everyone was going to come in for the group session so you took that time to call Charles, who was ‘big man’ in your contacts. He was the head chef at the kitchen in the VA that always helped when you needed extra food.

“You know I’m at the VA, right?” He didn’t even say hi when he picked up the phone.

“Oh,” you laughed, “then come to my room, I need a favour.” he agreed and hung up, Charles liked to get to the point, he was an old man who didn't have time for small talk.

As you waited you opened up your computer and ran through your emails, one caught your eye. It was an email from your boss who you never actually see at the VA, the subject was ‘one less attendee today’ which only made your stomach flip. When someone drops out of this specific program it means they’ve relapsed.

“You needed me?” Charles was at your door, white apron already stained.

“Yeah,” with a cloudy mind you turned your laptop away from you, “I need you to set aside pasta and whatever cheese you think would be good to bake on top of that pasta, please.”

He leaned against the door, arms crossed to show the faded tattoo on his forearm. After a few seconds he puckered his lips and nodded, “I can do that, done.” he waved and left.

You opened your laptop as you shook your head, finding the email again. People would be showing up soon. You scanned the words, just looking for a name and reason. You stumbled past a name and then quickly found it again, “Phoenix will no longer be attending, she has sadly relapsed and is in a rehab center.” You whispered out loud, a finger went to the words and kept your spot as you read it a few more times.

“Hello,” Pops was the first to walk in. The old man took his spot on his chair and waited, he was always first.

“Hi,” you typed back a sad but formal reply before closing your laptop, “I’m a little behind so the water’s going on now.”

“Take your time, dear, you already do too much.”

You smiled as you got all the water ready and boiling, the coffee pot began to gurgle. Pops was a tea drinker, you got his favourite mug and placed the bag in. Wilson was next to walk in, his eyes were cast low to the floor.

“Hello,” Wilson spoke softly, “I wanted to ask how you were doing after…” he trailed off.

Your mind flashed to Wilson leaning over you as he screamed like your father, “I’m better, how are you?”

“Better is a good word to use… can I have decaf today?” He added as he took his spot, Pops gave him a dirty look.

“Of course, and Pops, play nice.” It was like preschool sometimes.

Everyone had filled in and taken their spots, except one was left empty. Pops and Phoenix were friends, it was a slow burn but they managed to get along. An early twentysomething emo whose hair was pink and used a given name and a world war two veteran whose hair was always slicked back like it had to be in the war. The loss of one member made everyone confused, you didn’t have all the answers and the answer you did have had to stay between you and your boss.

“Let’s begin,” you sit back in your chair. Before any talked, you adjusted your flannel jacket that was poking your back.

Pops’ bushy eyebrows pulled close, “we’re waitin’ on Phoenix.”

“Sadly, she will no longer be joining us,” you spoke softly as you ran the pad of your finger around the rim of your mug. There were gasps of disbelief, Pops looked past you and out the window as he shook his head.

Lovey, a person who sat on the floor and never spoke, began to cry. “She was so nice.” They were a very emotional person even though they never spoke too often, you could always see them being an empath during the session and taking on the burden of others.

“She’s not dead,” you chimed in, “she’s just in rehab, she’ll be back sooner than you can say ‘we missed you’, alright?” your hand rubbed Lovey’s shoulder. You swore you heard Pops say ‘I miss you’ which broke your heart.

“Well,” Pops sighed, “when I was in the war I lost a lot of people and found out they were alive, I don’t remember much but I remember that.” With a shaky hand, he brought his mug to his lips, “there was the Howling Commandos, the hundred and seventh who were captured and kept in a Hydra facility for a long time.” Everyone nodded along, “there was this one kid, I forget his name but he was a real spirit, y’know? He was one of the good eggs in the war. I was his superior, along with the rest of the Commandos, but near the end, we all blended in, they were pulling shit that could’ve gotten them sent back home.” His eyes were spaced out when he talked about memories, they seemed to replay right in front of him.

Lovey sniffled, “I lost my cat once growing up,” that was most they’d ever talked, “but it managed to make its way back to the house, it was winter and its paws were all hurt from the salt on the ground but I gave her a bath, I cleaned her up.” They smiled and took a sip of their green tea, which Lovey had asked for last week.

“I’ve lost a lot,” your voice was almost out of place with how little you talked in the sessions, “two friends did a tour overseas and one came back, but after all these years I think I gained something more.” Everyone smiled and nodded, Pops smiled wider than them all.

The talking continued. The subject wasn’t on drugs like it normally was, there were talks of larger-than-life ideas, philosophy and other things that made others look up at the ceiling and just listen. The tone was soft and quiet, people didn't step on another’s last word, rather they waited to let the speech sink in before talking. You talked more than normal, opening up in a way most people who worked at the VA frowned upon. But you didn’t care, you were with strangers who gathered together to better themselves, why couldn’t you be a part of that?

Your gaze shifted to a brown paper bag that was placed on your desk, Charles snuck in and had left it there. The sound of everyone talking tuned out, all you could hear was Bucky’s voice. The way it would rumble when he spoke softly and the way it would shake when he’d laugh, it was all music to you. In your mind you could almost feel the stuble on his cheeks, you knew for a fact if he ever shaved you’d be really upset. All you wanted was to eat the pasta and cuddle on the couch, maybe your head on his chest as he played with your hair or lying chest to chest and you not even watching the movie. It would be a cheesy Hallmark movie and Bucky would get so confused, wondering why a prince was in a bakery for the third time in a week.

A cough snapped you out of it, “look at the time,” you whispered, “alright, guys, this has been really nice and I’m happy we talked about what we did, see you all!” you waved as everyone filled out of the room. “And no Pops, I don’t know what rehab Phoenix is in, go home.” You crossed your arms, he huffed at you reading his mind.

It was a fast bus ride home, surprisingly with the winter weather. The bag of food occupied the spot next to you, you’d look at it from time to time and smile. You alternated between which hand was holding it when you were walking, you didn’t wear gloves and the hand that wasn’t in use was deep in the thin pocket of your jacket. It was all better when you walked into your building, the stairs seemed longer than normal but the need to sit down was pushing you to keep going.

Right as you were about to put your key in the lock your phones buzzed, you knew it was Bucky.

“Hey,” you awkwardly pressed the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you put everything down on the floor, “one sec.” you put your phone down and took your jacket off as well as placed your bag off to the side. You picked it back up when you placed the bag of food on the counter, Cleo ran over to smell it. “Okay, I’m back.”

“Oh, it was nothing, I just wanted to ask if you were home and if I could make my way over?”

You smiled as you got yourself a glass of water, “of course, can’t wait to see you.” After a few more goodbyes he hung up.

The pasta was in the little oven-safe bowl as you shredded cheese over it, Charles had written out a little recipe. With oven mitts on, you placed the bowl in the oven and turned on your timer. With perfect timing, there was a knock on the door.

Before you could open it all the way Bucky was spewing words, you could barely keep up. “I’m so sorry it was just there- and it was crying - do cats cry? I don’t know, I’m so sorry.” his zipped-up leather jacket had a bump in it, the bump was wiggling and making noises.

“Slow down,” you walked him inside, “open your jacket.”

Bucky opened his jacket and a small ball of fur rolled out, it looked like it was only a year old. The dirty white cat went straight to Bucky, “I was walking to your place and there was this noise down the alley a few blocks down, it was this constant meowing.” Bucky was petting it but looking at you with wide eyes, “and I felt so bad to just keep walking so I went back, it was wrapped up in a plastic bag, a plastic bag,” his eyes were starting to tear up, “and I just thought who would do that to an animal? So I picked it up and she’s gonna stay here and come back to my apartment whenever I leave if it’s tomorrow or tonight.”

You were stunned as you looked between the large and broody man and the small and shaken cat. He wasn’t directly asking for permission to keep it but it felt like he was, “that’s totally alright, I’ll set up a litter box and give some food.”

“No,” Bucky cut in, “I’ll do it, I hope Cleo doesn’t mind.”

“She won’t,” you smiled and watched him walk around with the cat on his shoulder, the white fur melting onto Bucky, “dinner should be ready soon, by the way.”

He pulled himself from baby-talking to the cat to look at you, “I can tell, it smells amazing, baby.” he smiled and started to male his friend a litter box, it seemed it really had to go because the second the litter hit the cat jumped in. while that was happening Bucky walked back to you, “I didn’t give you a proper hello, did I?”

He was leaning over you with his height, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer. “What’s a proper hello?” You whispered and took hold of the open jacket, pads of your thumbs running over the zipper teeth.

Bucky leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, he moved down to the button of your nose, and finally planted a long and loving kiss on your lips. “That’s a proper hello,” he whispered into your ear and he hugged you.

NEXT EPISODE

If you would like to be added to the series taglist or my general tag list you can comment below, send an ask, or even personal message me!

tag list: @imtherain @jackiehollanderr @redneckstrash @tylard-blog1 @readingbooksdrinkingtea @linzc-reader @hotleaf-juice @honeybunchesofbucky @sky0401 @striving4averagegirl @seybox @yaszx @happyt0exist

A/N: I have fully updated the series masterlist, I’m thinking of doing some oneshots within the AU so if you have ideas or things you want me to expand on send a request, they’re open!

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky barnes fluff #Bucky series #Bucky angst #Bucky Alpine #Bucky oneshot #Bucky drabble #Bucky x reader #Bucky x female reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #Bucky x yn #Bucky Barnes x yn #Bucky x female yn #Bucky Barnes x female yn #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier angst #winter soldier series #sebastian stan

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dreamkidddream · 3 years

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So guess who finally finished Season 4 and this is their first MHA fic??

It’s me 🤸🏽‍♀️ so in honor of not forgetting about it, I wanted to write some headcanons for some of the boys. So the trend is one partner complains about their shirt smelling and their partner leans down to smell and gets their forehead kissed (I did this with Obey Me if anyone’s interested 😌) Forgive me if it’s OOC, its been a minute since I watched it 🙏🏾Reader is gender neutral!

The Boys and Forehead Kisses (Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kirishima) (Tiktok Trend)

Midoriya

Of course, he’ll smell your shirt! You do work hard, and he understands. He might actually what you to smell him too

He’s glad to help either way!

So when he feels your lips on his forehead, he is blushing

It didn’t register that it was a prank until you burst out laughing

He was embarrassed at first, but he just smiled at your antics. He loves to hear your giggles and see you smile, and if a little embarrassment means that he gets to achieve that, then it’s okay for him

And the prank wasn’t harmful at all, and he might have to try it on you once he gets the confidence

If you give him kisses in public, he gets so flustered and turns red so quick you’re scared he’s gonna overheat or something. So for his sake, you always save it for when it’s just you two

He smiles and blushes so bright every time you do, he can’t help it

They honestly become a motivation/pick me up for him, and he’s so grateful for them. He knows that it started out as a silly prank, but it really has become something so special to him

It lets him know that he has to achieve his goal and if he ever does have days where he feels weakened or second guessing himself, you’re there to help him get back on his feet

You did try to do the prank again, but he wrestled you into his lap and gave you the kiss instead

You weren’t upset about it and definitely encouraged him to do it again

Definitely becomes a thing whenever either one of you are down in the dumps. Becomes a helpful solution along with some much needed cuddles

Bakugou

He is not smelling your damn shirt, wtf

The hell is wrong with you, just change if you think it stinks!

You either try and tackle him or you annoy him to the point that he chased you around and you trick him by giving him a face full of your shirt after he catches you

He’s practically foaming at the mouth until you kissed his forehead

He froze and softly pushed you off, face turning completely scarlet. You thought that he would try and wipe it off by now-

“Just say that you want a kiss next time, damn weirdo!”

He sounds aggravated, but he isn’t moving his arms from around you, and he’s trying to hide his face from your sight, which he’s failing at but you keep your mouth closed

You do find this extremely cute though

He doesn’t have time to worry about getting forehead kisses from his partner, he’s trying to be the number one hero and how can he do that if he’s distracted by your shitty kisses?!

He’s lying and doesn’t know how to admit that he actually likes them and is way too stubborn/prideful to ask for more

However, you do start to catch on after he just...stares at you. You thought that you did something, and every time you would ask, he would just deny it and glare harder

After a draining day, you just crashed into bed, sweaty clothes and all, right next to him. He “asked” demanded that you smell his shirt to make sure your stink didn’t get on him, and you thought nothing of it until you felt something and was shocked

Katsuki Bakugou used your own prank against you and kissed your forehead

His face was beginning to turn red and when he finally did made eye contact with you, he was trying to look confident and bragging about using your own trick against you. You just laughed and agreed with him, not missing the small smile or the soft look he gave you

So you found out a new fact about your boyfriend: he actually likes forehead kisses but don’t ever try to give it to them in public

He has threatened to blow you up more than once. He’s bluffing, but he did almost body slammed you once after you jumped on him in a surprise attack

But give him forehead kisses when it’s just you two and he can only pretend to hate it for so long. Soon enough he’ll be mad at you because he hasn’t gotten a kiss in a while

But seriously give him forehead kisses when he’s having a rough day or feel like he’s not doing enough, and it’ll remind him that he does have people that support him

He has to be number 1 not only for himself, but for you too

Todoroki

You just smell the same to him, but if it makes you feel better he’ll do it for you

He’s confused when he feels you kiss his forehead, and he honestly believes that he accidentally hit your mouth

Poor boy is so touch starved he doesn’t know any better

You had to grab his face and just outright kiss his forehead after he apologized and tried to move away from you

His face turned red, but man he is so happy about it. You can tell in his smile and the way that he gazes at you

I think out of all the boys, Todoroki is the main one that really likes your kisses. I mean really likes them and isn’t afraid to ask for more

Granted he doesn’t ask you in front of everyone, but he doesn’t really care if people see either. If someone overhears or sees you two, then oh well, it’s not stopping him from getting his kisses. But he doesn’t mind having some privacy either to get some other kisses

It makes him feel serene every time you do kiss his forehead, like he’s at peace and doesn’t have to worry about anything. There’s no family problems, no Endeavor, it’s just you and your kisses, and it makes him smile every time

He will pout if he doesn’t get them, and while it is very cute, his smile suits him much better

Kirishima

100% smells your shirt. Feels like it’s unmanly if he doesn’t, plus he’s smelled worse. He’s a more “go with the flow” type of person anyway

And you always smell good, so if you don’t stink then it’s a win-win!

So he didn’t get why his forehead was kissed, but when he looked up and saw you smiling

Feeling your lips on his forehead made him blush and smile so hard, he could feel his cheeks hurting

Picks you up and swings you around, starts with kissing your lips, your forehead, and then pretty much everywhere on your face

He’s an addict for your kisses

Definitely becomes a thing, and unlike Bakubro, doesn’t care if it’s in public. He has no shame in getting his kisses anywhere, anytime! That hero exercise went well? Give him a forehead kiss to celebrate! Going on a mission? A forehead kiss is a must, no exceptions. Going to bed? Doesn’t matter if you guys are sleeping in the same bed, he won’t get a goodnight sleep without it

He loves getting forehead kisses from you, and he loves giving them too

The girls think it’s cute, Iida thinks it’s inappropriate and the Bakusquad (minus Mina and Kiri obviously) thinks it’s the most disgusting display in the world and they gag

But he just laughs and goes for another kiss, they don’t know what they’re missing out on!

But he’s happy that he gets to keep your kisses all to himself

#mha x reader #mha headcanons #mha reader insert #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #deku x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha reader insert

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arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years

Note

Hii 👋 😁 okay so I'd like to request a valentines date with the brothers and newdatebales but while they are on the date MCs ex who is a complete jerk interrupts their nice time and MCs date makes the ex pay for being so rude. Happy Valentines Day! 💝

Happy valentine's! Ugh exes really can be a pain! I'd fist fight my ex for a stick of gum, no hesitation

Sorry this took so long, I've been asleep for most of the day

Pt.2 = undateables (minus Luke)

Context: you decided to go to the human world for your date

Lucifer:

Restaurant! Always - it's a classic

It was fairly lavish, Everyone was in suits or dresses, the place seemed to glitter from how polished it all was

A small classical band in the back

"I'm having a lovely time, I hope it's all to your liking."

"definitely is, though if you were the one playing the piano I'd make it even better."

"I'll keep that in mind for later."

He smirked, taking a sip of his wine whilst you just beamed

You two have been waiting month's for this renovation and you glad you were able to get it in on Valentines

"Oh! (Y/N) been ages- didn't expect you to be here, who's your friend?"

Your stomach dropped

Your ex just smiled at you two, leaning on your seat

"boyfriend."

"no! No way! You're dating?! I heard you were so broken after our breakup, so glad you were finally able to move on, must of been hard."

"Will you leave? I'm trying to enjoy myself-"

Lucifer glared at them, shifting in his seat incase he had to settle this - he had faith in your strength but knew he wouldn't stay silent for long

"Why so hostile?! I haven't done anything wrong it's not like I've gone and told him how clingy you were or the fact you just LOVED arguing."

"fuck off will you?! I wasn't clingy, you were just distant and barely treated me like a partner and we got into arguements because YOU kept going behind my back."

He finally stepped in, noticing you were getting EXTREMELY worked up and had tears lining your eyes

He pulled your ex around, gripping their face and flashed them his true forms face

They screamed as they shoved themselves away from him, darting away to their table

This made everyone look at them, Lucifer fixing his hair and wiped his gloves with a scented wipe

"how unpleasant, Let's get the check, we can finish this back at the house."

He called over a waiter, quickly paying and collecting the now packaged food

"Just tap me and I'll step in sooner, I know you can handle yourself but I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry."

Mammon:

A drive in movie - wants to show off his hot wheels and attractive partner~

He was pulled all sorts of cheesy moves, the yawn and stretch is one but many

He smiled having you leaned against him with his arm around your shoulder

You told him you were going to get more snacks and he tried to follow you but you said it'll be alright

Though when you came back you saw your ex leaning on mammons car, flirting with him

"Babe! I told them to back off but they kept pushing-"

"I didn't expect to see you here, are you with him?"

"I'm very much with him, he's taken."

You roughly handed mammon the snacks

He knew to keep his mouth shut, that look on your face wasn't something to mess with

"what a shame, I'm glad you finally got over me though, I heard from your friends you disappeared for 6 months."

"yeah, I was busy with living my life not crying over you."

Your exes mouth twitched whilst you just jumped back into your side of the car

"Right, right - so are you two serious or just a fling? I know it's difficult for you to keep a partner - why not keep me company? You're too handsome to be with them, don't you think? There's no way you actually like them-"

They trailed a hand up mammons arm, sending him a wink

He smacked their hand away from him, growing tired of their behaviour

"you listen here I'm in love with them more than your tiny little human brain will ever understand, back away from my car or watch us go on with our date."

When your ex didn't move he grabbed your shirt, pulling you in into a heated kiss

Whilst you two made out your cradled his head, flipping off your ex, mammon didn't have to even look to know what you were doing

He joined in on flipping them off, you both stayed like that until you heard them scoff and leave

"just say the word and I'll do whatever you ask, I won't let them get away with talking to you like that."

When the movie was done you spotted your exes car with the window down, mammon happily through your Popcorn into their window

But it wasn't over, when his car got close enough he took a pocket knife, slashing their car and immediately drove off at high speed

Levithan:

Arcade; was there really anything else?

He was determined to get you all the arcade prizes, using all his skills to make the machine do as he wished

Has used his tail to grab a prize from a rigged claw machine

"what else should we do? I saw a two player shooter finally open up."

"maybe dance dance Revolution? It'll be fun~"

He groaned, not wanting to do physical exercise but smiled when you weren't looking

He knew every dance song and pattern! He was going to impress you so much!

Of course there was a line, two kids hogging it and people recording them

Though things took a turn when your ex showed their face

"i should of known you'd come here, can't seem to stop visiting our old dating spots, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, clutching levithan's hand

If you were going to be honest, you completely forgot this was one of your old date places

You just remembered it was close by and you've been there when you were younger

"get over yourself, I'm on a date with my boyfriend."

"him? Really? I knew I hurt you but I didn't expect you to downgrade this much."

Levi looked down ashamed, anger boiling inside of him at how they spoke to you

He suddenly moved Infront of you, gripping your exes shirt as he pinned them to the photo-booth

"I don't care what you say to me but I know that you're just a cheating liar who gets off making others feel shitty, stay away from us or I will rip you to shreds limb by limb!"

He didn't even know his voice raised, punching the booth beside their head

Your normally timid boyfriend only got like this when you tried to be a better TSL fan than him or he lose his patience with mammon

Your ex cowered under his gaze, darting off as soon as they could

"i- I hope I didn't speak over you! I know you could of easily dealt with them but I just couldn't stand it!"

Satan:

Meausum, very interesting with different moments in history and discoveries all for the public to see - a date for nerds

Good thing you're both nerds (tbh I'd love a date like this)

"I was actually alive when this happened, It was pretty remarkable."

Oh yeah, expect him to be giving you all the classified details of moments in history

You just wished you had him whilst you were doing your history exams, you could of gotten so much extra credit!

"were you ever in any pictures? It would be pretty fun if we spotted you in the back of one of these."

He just laughed, grinning as you slowly began to realize that was an actual possibility

But before you could press on your mouth flew shut

Your ex was here

You elected to ignore them but they didn't have the same idea for you

"I never expected to see you around again, I thought you disappeared completely when no one heard from you in months."

"now that you're talking to me I wish I had, is there a reason you're interrupting my date?"

"your date? Is this him? I didn't think you'd move on so quickly~ shows what value you have on relationships."

Satan was pleased; he's heard all about your ex and was mad they were even breathing the same air as you

You were more annoying than any of his brother's and he hasn't even said anything to them yet

"I got over you quickly which might I add 10 months isn't a short time span - because you mean nothing me, you're a bitch."

"Back off or you'll end up with a bloody nose."

"gonna hit? Some man you are! Quick to violence-"

He grabbed their head, quickly jerking their head as if he was going to smash it into the display

His fingers dug into their scalp and tugged at their hair

"You have 5 seconds, I'm feeling nice today because it's valentine's - run now or I will put a dent in your skull."

He let go and he began to count, your ex looked at you both with fear before running

Just grazing the 5 second limit

"what was we discussing? Ah yes, I'll point out where I am, I think the picture is just up ahead."

Asmodeus:

Bath store date!!!

If it's with asmo - anything can be exciting

Even if it is you two walking around snorting bath bombs and poking the bath jello

Asmo handed you a bar

"smell it~ it's got herbs and flowers in it, doesn't the smell remind you of the kitchen back home?"

You gave it a small sniff but almost got abit of herb stuck in your nose when you saw your ex looking straight at you

He caught onto your surprise, slightly turning to see someone approach you two

"Careful there, don't want it to get stuck up your nose."

Your ex laughed, you just frowned

The demon looking between you, noticing how unhappy you were

"Do you want something? We're busy."

"I spotted you and thought to see hi! It's been so long since we've talked! Are you feeling abit better now after your break? I know the breakup was hard."

They gave you a pity filled look, patting your shoulder

"No, the breakup was easy to get through but why does it matter to you? We're not friends and you dumped me and that was that."

"come on it couldn't be just that, don't be shy Infront of- who are you exactly?"

Asmo quickly wrapped an arm around you, hugging you close as he gave your ex a tight smile

"Their boyfriend~! And I'm not happy about you talking to my sweetheart, leave."

"boyfriend? You look like that and you wanna try to be tough, you're as scary as a cloud- this is what you moved on with? I should of expected it."

"cute, look me in the eyes whilst you say that, won't you?"

Your ex foolishly did, Getting ready to insult but felt themself be fully charmed

"Won't you be a dear and spin around for me? Perhaps start clucking like a chicken, I think there's some feed over there." He cooed.

You bursted out laughing watching your ex do exactly as they were asked

Your boyfriend just smiled, picking up another soap and sniffing it before handing it to you

"ooo it's really fragrance, let's get this one."

You ignored your charmed ex, leaving the store with your stuff, hearing them yell out in humiliation as soon as you stepped out the store

Beezlebub:

Picnic, Should of been expected

You watched him do his stretches; you knew he had to keep himself occupied with draining tasks to keep better control over his constant hunger

He already scarfed down most of what was in basket before his fitness watch went off

You just sat back and observed

"I know this isn't romantic but once I'm tired we can continue, I'm sorry."

"Beel, I'd rather watch you flex your muscles than feel starved."

"I'll do my best."

He leaned down and you met him half way, Sharing a quick kiss before he went jogging

Everytime he passed your spot you gave him a cheer

But what you didn't expect was your ex to whistle, watching Beel with you

"do you mind? That's my boyfriend."

"I can see, how'd you get a guy like him? He's shredded, I didn't think big guys were your type."

"It's none of your business what my type is, our relationship is over and I told you I never wanted to see you again."

Your ex scoffed, glaring down at you

"is that why you disappeared for months? You really think I'd be desperate enough to message you again?"

"is it it of your system yet? Can you leave?"

"What's the issue..? You don't look pleased."

He was looking directly at you, concern on his face

You sighed In annoyance

"oh~ and he has a nice voice aswell, aren't you a package, wanna go somewhere more private?"

It was your turn to scoff, beel frowned at your ex

He knew how unpleasant your ex was and immediately stepped towards them

He grabbed their head and easily lifted them off the ground and put them to his eye level

"Apologize and Leave."

Your ex whimpered, wincing in pain, beel moved them like a ragdoll and made them face you

"I'M SORRY FOR EVERYTHING!"

They were let go and scampered off

You turned to beel, cupping his face, his mood immediately improving

"you did amazing, baby, are you tired or do you need to keep exercising?"

"I think I'll be able to be fine now, I'm glad they left so quickly, I was going to eat them."

Belphegor:

He wanted sky diving but you decided to go to the mattress store

Odd date choice but it made perfect sense to your boyfriend, they were having double bed special offers

He sunk into the mattress, sighing feeling how soft and bouncy it was

"We Should get this one."

"you said that with the last mattress, I'm sure you could find one hard as a rock and still want it."

"the top of the sofa is a comfy spot but I like my mattresses soft."

You just hummed, looking at the prices

"Tore up the old one with one of your tantrums? What a shame."

"excuse me??! I had a death In my family and that was an accident-! Why are you even here?!"

You can't believe it! Your ex had to be here of all places!

"I did want to say hi but now you're just getting all worked up over abit of teasing, you're still so sensative."

"Wow, forever the gaslighting cunt, I'm really not surprised you haven't changed but you got real balls to be so public about how much of a shitty person you are."

Beel was propped up on the mattress, happily watching you verbally destroy your ex

"you're just a bitch as always-"

"hold on, I'm just teasing - no need to get all angry about it."

He snickered whilst you smirked, coping the same tone your ex used

"Ah~ I know you, they told me about you, you're the ex that slipped and fell into the pool full of sick, I've been laughing about that for months."

"you-! I can't believe you'd talk about me so much, have you really moved on?"

"they told him one story, calm down, is this what you do now that you're single? terrorise couples in mattress store?"

They tried to bark back but he cut them off

"You know...I know plenty of ways to suffocate a human and I wouldn't even have to put a single finger on you, unless you want to see what I can do to your mind, I'd turn around and bother someone else."

They stared at him in horror, seeing you both just look down at them, enjoying their struggle for words

"you're both little shits, I hope you're miserable."

"and I hope you get the hell out of my face before I decide to stop being nice."

His eyes glowed as mist formed at his fingers, unnoticeable to anyone else around you

Your ex winced, a choked noise escaping them

They surprised you by being smart for once, turning around and storming away

"Are you miserable, belphie?"

"only when you're not around."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #gamingclubpresident #aracadejohn217 9 #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beezlebub #obey me levithan #obey me luficer #obey me belphegor #obey me discourse #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me imagine #valentine's day

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script-nef · 4 years

Text

No need for jealousy, sweetie | Kageyama Tobio

Category: fluff

2k words; Is it a famous idol? Is it a high-skilled setter? Nope. It's his own son.

Everyone knows Kageyama Tobio, the genius setter of Japan’s national team and a member of The Monster Generation, is a love-struck fool. It’s not that hard to find out, seeing how his normally rigid and scowling face immediately turns soft and full of tender affection as soon as his wife is mentioned. His reaction is the same when his son, who celebrated his first birthday just a few months ago, becomes the topic of conversations as well.

The news of his son’s birth was posted all over Japan’s news as it consisted of a video uploaded onto his SNS account where you were beaming like a sun with your newborn baby in your arms while Tobio was silently crying his eyes out. He then moved to embrace you, words of thanks and love spilling out in between hiccups and cries. You joked that he cried more than you during the labour and everyone in the room was either laughing or comforting him.

You once attended one of his matches with Hikari in your arms, cheering for your husband and his team. As soon as the match was finished and congratulations were given, he zipped to your side and took the baby off of you. Hikari, recognising his father, gurgled joyfully and snuggled deeper into his embrace. As you started talking to Tobio, they both looked at you with an identical expression, like it was copy-pasted, that fans nearby took hundreds of photos. It’s one of the highlights in compilations of “Kageyama in husband mode” videos. (Other popular uploads include interviews where he doesn’t shut up when asked about your health or questions about your relationships. A lot of his fans started liking him thanks to YouTube’s wacky algorithms.)

Tobio is the embodiment of a devoted husband and father. Despite his odd memorisation skill which seemed limited to all things volleyball related, he never once missed an anniversary, birthday or doctor’s appointment. He even excused himself from practices for you. You can still hear how Hinata screamed “You’re skipping volleyball practice? You?” when he delivered the news. Interviews and commentaries after matches were cut short, much to his company and team officials’ dismay, because he couldn’t waste a second returning back to your side. He always repeated “[Name] is waiting. Goodbye.” with a bow and took off. He also wakes up practically instinctively to the baby’s cries even after he’s wiped out due to his rigorous training. The amount of superhuman stamina he has made you jealous since you’re half-dead after exercising a bit while he’s fit as a horse. He says any exhaustion he has evaporates as soon as he sees his son’s cute little face. A weird and floppy smile appeared on his face whenever he took the minuscule hands in his.

Hikari is practically a carbon copy of his father. Same piercing black eyes which look odd but strangely suitable on a one-year-old, smooth black hair growing in tufts and a round face with baby fat filling out his plump cheeks. Tobio sometimes pokes his chubby cheeks while he’s sleeping, hands trembling like he’s about to touch a priceless artifact. If you took a photo now and compared it to one of Tobio’s childhood ones, even he would be confused. They’re just that much alike.

When his teammates and friends visited to celebrate Hikari’s first birthday, their reactions were… quite interesting. Apparently they didn’t expect the child, a genetic offspring from Tobio and you, to have the similarity percentage lopsided to 99 and 1. Hinata argued 99.5 and 0.5 which caused another fight to explode between him and your husband.

It was very childish, the arguments thrown around being the equivalent of “Look at him! Are you sure you didn’t just split into half like that thing with the cell?” “Mitosis, idiot.” “Why are you still so mean, Tsukishima?! But yeah, mitosis!” “What the hell do you think you’re saying, dumbass? He’s so much like [Name]!” “Only you can see that, Mr Wife Idiot!” and so on. It was cut short when Hikari started crying due to the influx in noise and Tobio’s Dad Mode kicked in.

In your eyes, it’s absolutely adorable. Two copies of your favourite face in the world to wake up to and fill your life with. While pregnancy was a pain, right now is paradise. Especially since Hikari is a quiet and calm kid just like his father. By now, you should be concerned if they’re clones rather than father and son.

But recently, Tobio’s kind of miffed at Hikari for some reason. That doesn’t mean he’s neglecting his child, he would rather die than do that. He’s as attentive as ever, if not even more so than usual. Using his overpowered athletic skills to respond to Hikari’s whines or cries much faster than you, he drops everything and runs out at the smallest indication of discomfort. It’s also not because having a baby is a handful, they’re meant to be like that.

No, he’s just incredibly jealous of a one-year-old because “he’s taking up all your time and affection when you promised to love me most in the world”.

When he first said that, your initial reaction was to double-take because you thought you heard him wrong. The thought of “Well. My hearing is failing now” echoed in your head. But no, this dork was being possessive and filled to the brim with envy over his son. His own. Son. As unbelievable as it sounds, it’s kind of in character for Tobio. Tobio who has various epithets like:

King of the Court

Volleyball Idiot

Number 1 Wife Fan

Mr “I have two brain cells and one’s for volleyball and one’s for my wife. A third one is sprouting for my son.”

And plenty of other variations.

So far, the attempt to make him understand the needlessness of his concerns and jealousy haven’t gone well. Generally, it starts with your defence of “Tobio, I love you and Hikari equally.” “You said you would love me the most in the world!” “Fine then, I love you the most in the world.” “I know you’re lying!” “Sweetie, please.” Rinse and repeat.

He turns dejected after every single “fight” and curls up into a ball, refusing to talk to you unless you hug and kiss him. He thinks he’s sneaky and manipulative. He really isn’t, you have him playing in the palm of your hands.

But it’s going to become a real problem if he’s going to be jealous with the tiny tenant who’s going to be around for at least another 2 decades. And the worst thing is that you can’t regularly find advice since his closest friends aren’t… much of a help.

Hinata looked at you like you were crazy in one of your rare meetups. Tsukishima acted like he was actually getting sick from your concerns, that salty bastard. Yachi, kind and helpful and sweet Yachi, was the only one who made valuable contributions with Yamaguchi. It’s such a shame they’re so busy that they can barely have a social life nowadays.

“Hmm… I mean, he stills loves Hikari, right?”

“Yes. Endlessly.”

“Well then… how about treating him exactly the same as you did before Hikari came, if not more affectionately? That’ll show him that his son, his one-year-old son who doesn’t even understand the concept of jealousy, is not a quote-unquote threat.”

“Just threaten to leave him alone for like, a month if he keeps on being possessive. That’ll wake him up.”

“Tsukki!”

“Oh hello, Satan, didn’t think you'd be contributing. How’s roasting the souls of the innocent going?”

“It’s going fine. Would they really be innocent if they’re in Hell?”

“It’s a joke, Sea Salt. Also, that would crush him!”

“That’s the whole point.”

“I think you’re using this just to annoy him.”

“You’re thinking correctly.”

“Back to the topic at hand! [Name]-chan, just reassure and spend a lot of time with him.”

“That’s literally what I’m doing right now! Ughhh what should I dooooo…”

“You know it’s really annoying when lovestruck couples come and complain about their relationship like it’s a problem when in reality you’re happy, right? Just saying.”

“Tsukki, she has a real problem here!”

“Eh, does she though?”

And of course, that line of conversation took off before you could object and continued for the rest of the visit. So all in all, the two-hour lunch date with your friends resulted in a public commotion which nearly got you kicked out of the café. You were about to return home with no solid solutions when Hinata grabbed and stopped you.

“Hinata?”

“[Name]-chan, I’m sure it’s going to be fine. I think he’s just like this because he spent his entire life looking at either volleyball or you, and now that a third party has entered, he’s just not used to it. Time fixes everything or something like that, right?”

“It’s already been a year though…”

“Yeah, well… I’m sure he’s getting better. I remember when we visited you on Hikari’s okuizome, he was literally looking at you for the entire time. The entire time. When it was his son’s 100th day anniversary.”

Yes, Tobio spent the whole 5 hour party/ceremony with his eyes glued onto you, until everyone berated him for his lack of attention. Hinata literally flung a rubber band at his head and he didn’t even flinch. It was the main topic of conversation in your friend circle for the next month or so.

“But when we came again for his first birthday, Kageyama was all over Hikari! I think the transition of his love for you to Hikari is a bit slow, if that makes sense. He probably thinks the love you have for him is getting smaller compared to his love for you. Our Kageyama’s a bit of an idiot like that, right?” You don’t really know whether to nod or shake your head. “The fact that you’re hesitating kind of says everything, [Name]-chan. It’ll get better when his love for Hikari matches yours, okay? Hang in there!”

With a swift but warm hug, Hinata ran off to do his training.

The entire walk back home was filled with ruminations. Hinata was probably right. Kageyama’s attitude was slowly, but surely changing now that you’re thinking back. The ratio of his time with you and Hikari was 9:1 when he was just born, but recently it was more like 8:2. It should be concerning that this is the progress after a year of living together, but it’s better than nothing. You probably have nothing to worry about.

“Tobio, I’m home!” Silence welcomed you back. “Love? You home?” It was one of his rare days off and he said he would be taking care of Hikari so you could enjoy some free time while he can sleep in for the day. Also because his team instructor forbade him from meeting with Hinata since it always ends with a 3 hour volleyball match.

“In here.” A tiny reply emerged from the nursery. He always came running as soon as the front door creaked open like an overgrown puppy since you started living together, so this was surprising. Quietly tiptoeing in, you were met with your baby sleeping soundly in your husband’s arms, sucking on his thumb and sleep-babbling intermittently. Tobio’s face was one of love and pure happiness as he watched Hikari snoozing away like he didn’t have a care in the world—the same face he made when he stared at you. When he raised his head up to look at you, his eyes were filled with joy and warmth, crinkling in the edges.

“He’s so small.” He whispered, careful not to wake Hikari up. You joined him by his side, gently nudging your child’s chubby cheeks and revelling at its softness. “I have this… this feeling in my chest whenever I look at him… the same one whenever I see you.” Tobio’s hand came up to cup your face and he pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

“I love you both so much.”

Yeah, you have nothing to worry about.

#kageyama x reader #kageyama imagine #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu!! one shot #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#kageyama #kageyama tobio #fluff #female reader

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winetae · 4 years

Text

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.

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.

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 :))

#once again the italics did not transfer over but i rlly can’t be bothered at this point ;;#i am so happy this is done but also nervous agshsisjskss #bts smut #hoseok smut #bts #hoseok #also as usual I did not proof the last 4k bc I speed wrote the last bit in one go #believe me when i say i cannot look at this draft any longer !

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thithesandofferings · 3 years

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Gym...Date Raian x Reader

TW: 18+ MINORS DO NOT ENTER

Semi-public sex, Rough- (but is anyone surprised-) Scent kink, spit kink - hes just nasty and we love him for it.

It wasnt often when you would accompany Raian to workout, but today you felt a spark that you needed to. You did skip a few workout days yourself and its been awhile since you felt that satisfying soreness post workout. You and Raian both had a love for working out and thusly transformed your own gym in one of the downstairs rooms. Throwing your phone on the bed you quickly changed into some short and a sports bra and went down to meet him. When you got there Raian was already starting his routine so you decided to start on your warm ups seeing how he didnt wait for you. Simple stretches is what you decided to begin with before some cardio.

Your eyes glanced to where Raian was, he looked so focus while he worked out. It was a side to him you hardly saw and it was actually quite refreshing. He seemed so in tuned with every raise of the dumbbell, releasing air whenever it went back down. He truly loved the sport he did, regardless of how dangerous it was. Well he might be more dangerous than the sport itself. You found yourself giggling to yourself, which caught his attention. His eyes met with yours, he smirked, knowing well you were staring at him for some time, causing you to almost choke on your own spit.

You quickly turned and continued on with your stretches. Slowly raising your hands above your head you stretch and then just as slowly bend over to touch your toes. You repeated that process until you heard a heavy object fall to the ground. You paused mid stretch to look back and saw Raian picking up the dumb bell he apparently let dropped. You stare at him confused.

"H-how did you manage to-"

"Shit happens OK!"

".....ok..." After dragging your eyes from him for at least a minute you finally get into your routine. This one was by far one of the hardest ones you could have picked. It literally worked out your arm, legs, back, glutes and thighs. You finally had a 2 minute break and you so happen to meet eyes with Raians again. He looked done with his routine so he was just sitting on the bench motioning for you to come over by him. "..huh?...but im not don-"

He raised an eyebrow .

"...Raian please...im almost done-"

"Y/N if I ask a third time you'll regret it"

With that you instantly go to his side. You go to sit next to him but he grabs your waist pulling you into his lap.

"Noooo im sweatyy"

"So"

"So?? I dont wanna-" your words got caught off, feeling something wet along your back.

"Just as i thought...you taste delicious" he said dragging another wipe across your arm now. He pinned you tightly against his lap and pulled you back even further. He then made his way to the crook of your neck, he kissed up your nape to the bottom of your ear. Slowly licking and nipping, licking and nipping at your wet skin

"R-raian...please...atleast let me...shower first"

His grip tightened as he growled into your ear.

"You see...ive been watching you all that time...ive been finished with my workout from long old time and i couldnt help but observe my little kitten busy with hers." He breathed in your ear. His breath was hot...hot and dripping in want and need. His voice also seemed to crack a bit which was a sign he was really...really ready to break...or well to break you.

"But...i...F-FUCK.." He slipped a hand between your leg. At this point you wasnt sure if it was sweat or arousal but your will to care was slowly leaving you. His thumb began running circles up and down your clothed folds, increasingly picking up speed as he continued.

"I bet this tastes even better huh?...you dont know how bad i wanted to bend you over this bench whiles you did your stretches...made it hard for me to concentrate on my own fucking exercise."

He bit down on your shoulder and then licked around it. "- but you knew what you was doing...right kitty? Thats why you wanted to come work out with me here"

"N-n...no..i..i didnt"

"Dont lie to me kitty...what other reason did you have then?" He made use of his other hand, grabbing both breasts at once and squeezing. He always knew the exact location of your nipple and wasted no time in kneading them.

".....i..i..just-HHHHNNNGG_i..."

"Speak up kitty...i cant understand a word you're saying" he smirked behind you. At this point his erection was more than visible and even more so notable as you sat on him. The heat alone coming from off of it was enough to make you whimper and try to ground down on him for some type of friction. ANYTHING!

He stilled his hand from between your legs and grabbed your head back by your hair. Skillfully wrapping them twice around his hand in once quick fluid motion of his wrist.

"Now now kitty, are you that fucking desperate for my cock? Tryna grind down this naughty ass on me like that...no no kitty...you gotta earn it first." You could only whimper and whine as his grip tightened in your hair.

You struggle to even swallow the spit accumulating in your mouth, yet right now only one thing was on your mind. "What color kitty?"

"..g-green..."

"Good girl" he smiled before crashing his lips into yours. It took little to no time for you to allow him into your mouth. His tongue quickly taking over your senses as he literally kissed you breathless. His hand flew down into your shorts and swiped up your folds before parting them, causing you to break the kiss. He took advantage of this moment by quickly removing his fingers and placed two of his large digits into your gapping mouth. "Suck it clean kitty...and then i'll clean up the rest downstairs"

The moan you let out around his fingers was by far the most shameful thing you ever heard but then again you didnt care much. You notice the way his eyes closed as soon as he felt your tongue wrap around his fingers. The wet lapping motion you did with his tongue was enough to drag out a throaty moan from him which even caused him twitch.

"FUCK...you're so good with that tongue kitty...so..so fucking good" he pulled and pushed his fingers in your mouth, basically face fucking you with his hands. At the last pull you sucked on his fingers and did a small bite as he popped out of your mouth. When he opened his eyes all you saw staring back at you was dark black irises. Oh shit. Without a word he lifted you up and threw you over his shoulder and started off towards the stairs.

"You caused this on your self kitty" he said smacking your already sore ass.

"I just wanted to work out...its been so long since i was sore from a workout"

"If you wanted to be sore from a workout....you only needed to ask...i'll make sure you're fucking sore alright. Really fucking sore"

-Krissy

#raian x reader #Kure Raian #raian headcanons #raian drabbles #kengan ashura

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themurphyzone · 3 years

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Pinky the Snowmouse Ch 1

Summary: On a lonely Christmas Eve, a lab mouse finds himself unable to concentrate on world domination. When an ACME scientist claims to own a magic silk hat, Brain initially dismisses it as superstitious nonsense, but finds that this boast could hold more truth than he could ever imagine.

AN: So I posted this idea back in May (I know, nowhere near Christmas season) but it made for such a viable fic that I had to do it. Besides, I wanted to write a great Christmas fic since I focused more on Halloween last year.

This fanfiction is also a tribute to all the Christmas specials we love so much every year, from the Christmas Carols to the holiday specials in our favorite cartoons to the Grinches and Rankin-Bass features.

Ch 1: That Old Silk Hat

AO3 Link

It was Christmas Eve, the day bolded and highlighted on the calendar, topped with a picture of Snoopy and his doghouse decked out in festive accessories.

Impossible to miss the overly cheerful music, the jingling bells, and the calls to be charitable to the poorer, less fortunate beings of the world.

Except humans never practiced what they preached.

No matter how much they claimed to care, Brain knew they never would. All of those charitable feelings would vanish as soon as Christmas was over, and they’d go right back to wallowing in their ignorance.

If they truly wanted to be charitable, they’d recognize Brain as the indisputable ruler over the world. But since humans always looked down on non-humans, it was an uphill battle with no end in sight.

But that was just fine with Brain. He wanted to be recognized for his merits and intelligence. He wanted to accomplish something other than achieving the lowest times on maze runs.

In time, his efforts would be rewarded. The bitter defeats would gradually transform into sweet victories.

But for now, he was unable to make headway into world domination since all the ACME employees had gathered by the main entrance, waiting for 3 pm to roll around like a class of bored schoolchildren who desperately wanted to go home.

If the higher ups were expecting all these mediocre scientists to show up for work and be productive on a snowy Christmas Eve, they were sorely mistaken. They were only here to collect their paychecks and didn’t care about scientific progress at all.

One lab tech popped a CD full of classic Christmas songs into an old stereo, and a chorus of Feliz Navidad began. Several scientists spun in their chairs, absentmindedly sucking on candy canes.

Brain was just as impatient as they were, but at least he’d be productive with his time once they all left.

“So ya got any plans, Bill?” a scientist asked.

“Go home,” Bill replied with a shake of his balding head. “Sleep because there’s no way I’m getting any shuteye with the twins bouncing off the walls for their presents tonight.”

“Kids are gonna be like that,” a lab tech spoke up. “I had to stop mine from taste-testing the cookies she wanted to leave out for Santa.”

Laughter rang out from the group, everyone taking turns to relate Christmas mishaps with their families. Soon almost every human joined in on the camereradie, except the most eccentric and inept scientist of them all.

Dr. Henry Hinkle was a man who claimed to bridge the fields of science and magic. However, he was woefully mediocre in both departments, and Brain had long ascertained the man had faked his credentials. Even Hinkle’s fashion sense was peculiar, as his gray lab coat was cut into the style of a magician’s fanciful tailcoat. With his brown handlebar mustache, he seemed more like a harried time traveler from the 19th century than a modern citizen.

His most prized possession was a tall silk hat with a pink flower attached to the band. Hinkle often claimed it was a magic hat, one that performed wondrous and mystifying deeds far beyond human comprehension. Hinkle was attached to that hat, and nobody had ever seen him in public without it.

Hinkle stood apart from everyone else, an outsider from the science clique. He frantically paced back and forth, desperately trying to get the so-called magic hat to perform properly.

"Say, Hinkle? Didn't you have a gig at the elementary school last week? How'd that go?" Bill called, and all eyes turned to Hinkle, whose eyes nervously flicked back and forth at the sudden attention.

"Swell, very swell," Hinkle mumbled as he nervously fiddled with his hat. "Those little ankle-bi...I mean those delightful, darling angels were floored by my magic."

A woman scoffed and rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Yeah, right. My son was part of that class, and he thought it was the worst Christmas party he'd ever had. How embarrassing that you can't shuffle a deck of cards."

“Madam, I will have you know I can shuffle a deck with my eyes closed and one hand behind my back!” Hinkle retorted. He flicked his left sleeve, and an entire card deck slipped out and spilled onto the ground. As Hinkle bent down in a hasty attempt to get the cards back in order, a small wand, several rubber balls, and colorful scarves tumbled out his other sleeve.

Nobody bothered to help Hinkle out with his misfortune. His coworkers elbowed each other, pointed fingers, and snickered among themselves instead.

The situation was far too pathetic to be humorous.

Brain wasn’t surprised by humans anymore. Peace and goodwill toward their fellow men didn’t exist, though the holiday season claimed otherwise.

It was now 2:40 pm. Only twenty minutes left in this humiliating performance, and Brain could formulate his next plan for world domination without further interruption.

Hinkle quickly stuffed the mess into his coat pockets. Then he straightened up, pulling on both ends of his bowtie in a vain effort to appear calm and collected once he was finished.

“If your hat really is magic, show us a few tricks!” Bill jeered, and the other employees joined in with challenges of their own.

“Oh, I will. And all of you will feel silly for doubting me after I’m through! Silly, silly, silly indeed!” Hinkle shouted. He tried to remove the hat from his head with a graceful flourish, but clumsily dropped it instead.

He chuckled nervously, a bead of sweat running down his forehead despite the chill.

“As with any exercise, a good magician always warms up with the basics,” Hinkle declared as he showed his audience a small red ball. “For my first trick, I will put this red rubber ball into my magic hat like so, and presto change-o, I have five red rubber balls to-”

He tipped the magic hat upside down. A single red ball bounced out, rolling along the floor before it hit an unimpressed lab tech’s shoe.

“-go,” Hinkle finished dejectedly. He peered into the hat, futilely shaking it as if the other four balls would pop out. Once he realized that wouldn’t be the case, his shoes scuffed the ground in shame as he picked up the single red ball and dropped it back into his hat.

“Look on the bright side, man! You produced invisible balls without trying!” someone called, garnering laughter from the rest of the audience.

Hinkle’s face turned red.

And while the scorn wasn’t directed at Brain, he thought the heckling was an unnecessary endeavor. There was little point in prolonging the man’s misery, no matter how incompetent or delusional he was at magic tricks.

“N-now, as I said before, that was just a warm up,” Hinkle said, nervously tugging at his collar. Then he pulled a small pink scarf out from his pocket, spilling several cards and dice onto the floor again. “But my second trick is sure to amaze you! Watch as I place this scarf into my hat and let the magic focus, now hocus pocus I say, and out come green, gold, and...gray?”

To nobody’s surprise, there was only a lone pink scarf in Hinkle’s hand. “There were supposed to be endless scarves attached to this…” he muttered. It fluttered out of his hand and back into the hat.

But nobody was paying attention to Hinkle anymore. The clock struck three, and the dull atmosphere changed to a holiday-induced fervor as everyone pushed and shoved their way to the front so they could card out and leave.

Brain crept to the front of his cage, one hand resting on his crooked tail as he prepared to unlock the cage and make headway into his plans as soon as they left. He was brimming with viable ideas, and they needed to be written down before he forgot them.

“EVERYBODY, WAIT!” Hinkle bellowed over the noise, and his colleagues turned to him with annoyance written all over their faces.

Brain gritted his teeth. Just let them go already! Was that really so difficult?

“I have one more trick, yes, just one more teensy trick up my sleeve! A real one, I assure you! You won’t be disappointed!” Hinkle said, rubbing his hands together frantically. He emptied his pockets, tossing props everywhere in a vain attempt to find something useful.

Then Hinkle donned a pair of white magician’s gloves, his eyes falling right on Brain. And Brain realized he was about to be conscripted as an unwilling volunteer.

Since his usual tactic of biting fingers until he was left alone wouldn’t work on gloved hands, Brain beat a hasty retreat to the back of his cage, intending to use the exercise wheel as further cover.

But he only made it halfway to the wheel when the door opened and gloved fingers pinched his tail, dragging him out of the cage and dangling him over the magic hat for everyone to see.

“Watch as I transform this ugly lab mouse into a beautiful dove!” Hinkle yelled, and just as Brain processed the insult, he was unceremoniously dropped into the hat. He fell right on top of the rubber ball, knocking the wind out of him. “Abracadabra alakazam!”

Brain pressed himself against the inside folds of the hat as he tried to catch his breath, but he was only given a moment of reprieve before he was snatched up and thrown into the air, as if Hinkle expected him to grow wings because of a nonsensical phrase.

He slammed against the window and fell to the table below, shaking his head to clear away the stars circling in his vision. Every part of his body ached, agony starting from the tip of his tail and snaking up his spine. Slowly, he sat up and checked himself over in the window.

There was a distinct lack of avian features in his reflection, as he expected. He had a new break in his tail from the rough treatment, but there weren’t any other new markings.

Everyone stared at Brain in silence, and the only sounds were barely suppressed squeaks of disbelief from Hinkle and a chorus of Deck the Halls.

Then there was a booming laugh.

“Prettiest dove I’ve ever seen!” Bill said, to the mirth of his coworkers.

Brain’s ears flattened, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground and disappear forever.

His fists clenched at the sound of their mockery. He never chose to be involved in this ridiculous demonstration. Or deal with their scorn and stupidity every day. Or live at ACME Labs at all, where he had to suffer through experiment after experiment on top of attempting world domination and failing every single night.

“Come back! I have trick cards! Magic 8-balls! I’ll saw something in half and put it back together, I swear!” Hinkle shouted at the scientists’ retreating figures as they all carded out and stepped into the bitter chill of winter. They shuffled through the snow-covered property and into their vehicles, not wishing to be delayed any longer.

The prized silk hat crumpled in Hinkle’s hand.

“Bah! The only thing this junk hat’s good for is the trash can!” Hinkle snarled as he hurled the hat at the wastebasket by the door, but it only hit the nearby wall instead.

Then he stomped out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Brain peered out the window, his breath forming a small patch of fog against the cold glass as he watched Hinkle trudge towards the city. He waited a minute to ensure Hinkle wasn't coming back, then rushed over to a drawer where he'd hidden a roll of blueprints and writing utensils.

He was finally, blissfully alone.

Strands of colorful Christmas lights twinkled along the walls, casting a festive hue onto the unfurled blueprints.

Solve for x. Cube the most wonderful time of the year. Multiply by pi.

Peppermints, candy canes, and chocolates were mixed together in a snowflake-patterned bowl. Brain snacked on one of the chocolates as he scribbled a preliminary design for a machine. The candy was bittersweet on his tongue.

Sodium and chloride to form an ionic bond. Three irons needed to balance the equation. Symbol H stood for the hap-happiest season of all.

Only the scratching of his pencil, the hum of a heater which barely worked, and an old, droning carol. The Christmas bells subdued, the computers shut off.

And hearts will be glowing when loved ones are near. Loved ones are near. Loved ones are near...

There was a wet spot on the blueprint, directly over where he was trying to write. Frowning, he rubbed out the excess moisture, but only succeeded in smudging his numbers. He started over in an empty space, only for the wetness to appear again. Annoyed, he flipped his pencil around and rubbed the grayed area with his eraser.

The blueprint ripped.

Though the hole was tiny and didn’t affect the rest of his work in the slightest, it seemed that his plan had failed before he’d implemented it.

And it occurred to him that he’d never considered how the machine would function or how it would help him accomplish his takeover.

His face felt strange, so he rubbed his cheeks to get rid of the sensation. His hand came away damp.

Oh.

He was crying.

It was that stupid song’s fault. He dropped his pencil and walked over to the stereo, slamming his hand against the stop button just as the song reached its end.

The sound cut off immediately.

Only the dying thrums of a malfunctioning heater now.

The silence was overwhelming.

Christmas media always said the holiday season was a joyous occasion for family and friends, a time for reflection and rebirth as the year wrapped up and began anew.

But it was just propaganda. Nothing more than lies so people would praise themselves as right and virtuous and loving when they were nothing of the sort.

Brain splashed cold water onto his face, ridding himself of the useless tears. Then he looked out the window. A light flurry had begun, the clouds low and dreary gray. The land was already blanketed in snow from the blizzard on the winter equinox, and temperatures hadn’t warmed up since.

And while there were footprints in the snow from passersby, much of the surrounding property was untouched.

Maybe that’s what he needed.

An opportunity to numb himself, to walk around in the cold and discard these useless, empty aches in his chest.

He tore up his blueprint and threw it away. He was better off starting over after his stint outside.

Then he put on his winter gear, nicked from a doll somebody had brought in as a donation to a toy drive, but now lay forgotten in the lab.

The thick white jacket was comfortable and padded with extra fluff. He threw the hood over his head and tucked in his ears, then pulled on his snow boots and gloves.

As he wound a long piece of string around the window latch, he caught sight of the silk hat that laid beside the wastebasket, considered nothing more than trash since it wouldn’t do what Hinkle wanted. The rubber ball and scarf was still inside, crumpled and forgotten.

Magic wasn’t real. It was simply the art of misdirection and illusion. Or a word the uneducated used to describe occurrences they couldn’t explain with science.

Despite his beliefs, Brain built a simple pulley system with thick yarn and an empty spool to haul the silk hat up to the counter.

He could use the hat for extra fabric. Repurpose it. Shrink it so he could have a formal hat for himself.

He opened the window, allowing the cold wind to numb the exposed fur on his face. With all the flurries, he’d probably regret this decision later, but that wasn’t anything new. Then he dropped the loose end of the string outside and tugged the knot around the latch. Once he was satisfied with the knot’s tightness, he dropped the silk hat into the snow-covered bushes below.

It was ironic, how he experimented with chemicals and complicated machinery every night, but didn’t know what he was doing with a simple hat.

Maybe that humiliating demonstration had messed with his mind, overriding all his logic and planning capabilities.

But it seemed like such a flimsy excuse, not providing a satisfactory explanation as to why he’d dragged a so-called magic hat outside on what was supposed to be a simple break.

Brain slid down the string, his boots crunching against the snow as he landed. He stuck out a gloved hand, catching several flurries.

No two snowflakes looked alike, they always said. But their crystalline structures couldn’t be seen without a microscope, so they were nothing more than white powder to the naked eye. He rolled the flurries in his palm until they formed a tiny snowball.

It gave him an idea.

But...it was childish. Stupid.

Yet he found himself rolling snow anyway.

This patch of the property was completely undisturbed, so he had a nice layer of clean, white snow untouched by human footprints to work with.

Nobody was around to see him. And it gave his hands something to do instead of remaining idle.

He quickly found that rolling snow into a spherical shape per the typical snowman wasn’t as easy as television depicted. The snow didn’t want to move in the way he wanted, and it came out as a lumpy, ovular mound that happened to be the same size as him.

He kicked aside a thin, whiplike twig that had broken off from one of the nearby bushes as he gathered more snow to form the head. Then he reconsidered and picked up the twig.

In his hands, it looked very similar to a mouse’s tail. One that wasn’t broken by mishandling.

While he didn’t have the height or the tools required for a full-sized snowman, maybe he could create a snowmouse instead.

He carefully threaded the twig into the backside of the mound, curling it around so it resembled an actual tail.

Then he brushed extra snow away from the front, smoothing out the mound until it had the snowy equivalent of legs.

The head was more difficult to sculpt, but he managed to create something that would be recognizable as a mouse’s head, with two small snowballs forming the ears and a muzzle that jutted out. He would’ve made the muzzle smaller, but the increased size was necessary to counterweight the ears. Lastly, he slid two sticks into each side of the snowmouse to serve as arms.

The snowmouse was twice Brain’s height, and while it had the proportions of a mouse, it was ultimately just a cold white body with three embedded twigs. No personality, no splashes of color.

Anyone could easily miss or step on it.

The snowmouse would be gone by next week, once the temperature rose above freezing. No trace of his handiwork would remain.

Such was life. Short and brutal, with nothing to show for it.

The faceless snowmouse seemed oddly alone, the only other thing besides Brain in this wintery courtyard. There wasn’t anything for either of them here.

“Sorry,” Brain said, unsure of why he was apologizing to something that couldn’t hold a conversation. He’d wasted far too much time here. He had to get back to his plans. “I’m going inside.”

A chilly breeze blew, and Brain held fast to his hood so it didn’t come off. As he turned to the lab, he saw the silk hat become airborne, flying several feet until it landed by Brain and the snowmouse.

He didn’t think the breeze had been that strong.

But the strangest part was how the hat was much smaller than before. It wouldn’t fit a human anymore.

Even the red rubber ball and pink scarf shrunk. And there were several pebbles that hadn’t been there previously, though Brain guessed they could’ve just gotten inside when he’d dropped the hat.

Brain stared at the items, then back at the snowmouse.

“Just this once,” he sighed as he draped the scarf between the main body and head, then placed the rubber ball at the end of the muzzle for a nose.

Two of the pebbles became unseeing eyes, though Brain was at a loss of what he should do with the other two pebbles. He tried using them as a replacement for buttons on the body, but that didn’t seem right. And placing them on the cheeks just looked awkward.

Brain held a pebble in each hand, stepping back to determine the placement. But he didn’t find anything satisfactory.

He was about to discard the pebbles entirely, but then he noticed that the snowmouse seemed to have an odd pair of buckteeth sticking out at the end of its muzzle with the way he held the pebbles.

Perhaps he should’ve left it as a matter of perspective. It was stupid. It was silly.

But Brain stuck the pebbles on the underside of the muzzle anyway.

The snowmouse looked ridiculous with its red rubber nose, pink scarf, and pebbles for eyes and goofy buckteeth.

Another breeze picked up, and one of the snowmouse’s stick arms waved, moving up and down like it was saying hello.

Like it was...friendly. Alive. Happy.

Slowly, Brain approached the snowmouse. He placed one hand on the snowmouse’s body, balanced on his tiptoes, and threw the silk hat on top.

For reasons Brain couldn’t explain, the hat just seemed to go with the rest of the snowmouse.

And then he caught himself.

What a ridiculous concept.

Creating a snowmouse wasn’t his worst transgression, if he’d just left it at the creation process. No, instead he had to go personifying it! Assigning qualities that shouldn’t be designated to inanimate objects!

Snow wasn’t alive. It was water. That’s all it was.

“You’re snow. You’re just a pile of frozen water!” Brain yelled, turning away from the snowmouse. Enough with these idiotic fantasies. He was going inside, back to the cruel reality of trying to take over the world. “You’re not alive, so just leave me alone! Quit toying with my perception!”

He stomped towards the window, but only made it a few steps before an odd sound gave him pause.

“Toys? Narrrrrf! That sounds like jolly good fun! Can I play with toys too?”

Brain looked over his shoulder, and promptly tripped over himself in surprise.

A pair of bright blue eyes was looking back at him. Actual eyes, not pebbles.

And the snowmouse was talking.

End AN: I feel really bad for calling Brain ugly. *sobs*

I actually kinda find writing Hinkle’s dialogue fun. A bit of a strange character to crossover with, but fun. Hocus Pocus the Rabbit won’t be making an appearance.

Also some changes will be made from the original Frosty the Snowman cause some parts of the cartoon don’t make sense. A greenhouse at the North Pole, really?

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #pinky the snowmouse

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drreporting · 3 years

Note

Prompt Omelia sharing a bath together something sweet please

Baby Bath

“I forgot how tiring it is manufacturing a human being,” Amelia muttered, half sarcastically, as she leaned her back against Owen’s chest, resting her head in the crook of his neck. “Thank god the nausea is gone.”

“Well, I can put you on the schedule for less hours at work…” He stopped as soon as he saw those piercing blues staring up at him accusingly. “Never mind,” he finished, chuckling as he rubbed her shoulders, splashing water over them to distract her from her irritation.

“I hope this isn’t the chief of surgery speaking to me right now,” she chimed, closing her eyes as she smirked, her jaw evidently tense.

Over the past couple of weeks, she and Owen had challenged each other on numerous occasions during work, causing a lot of tension amidst staff members and patients with their arguments. It was hard to pick a side when one side was the chief of neurosurgery, and the other side was the chief of surgery, especially when they were engaged to each other. Picking a side at work meant picking a side in their relationship, and many of the doctors there had realized long ago that it made no sense to do either, far less both. The power struggle was evident between the two, but no one would openly admit that as the reason for all their squabbles. Owen was coddling her because she was pregnant, and she was being arrogantly independent to counteract it. Something had to give.

Their most recent fight had been catalyzed by Owen rearranging Amelia’s surgeries so that she would spend less time on her feet while working. To say that had sent Amelia over the edge, was an understatement; she hated being micromanaged. The action had led to an all-out yelling session right outside the OR that was supposed to be ready for her surgery, and Owen had unfortunately made the mistake of exercising his full control, as chief of surgery. He’d basically given her a ‘time-out’ in front of all their colleagues, as though she were a resident, and banished her to his office where her subordinates assumed, she would receive the actual punishment for her public disrespect. Although she complied, she obviously did not respond well to it in the end. By the time he’d made it there to privately address their argument, she’d torn up the entire room, the mess of it all making it known how angry she was. It was like a hurricane had torn through his office.

“Amelia, what is wrong with you?” Owen exclaimed as he observed his fiancée pelting all the papers off his desk, and across the room.

“Why are you undermining me in front of my students?” she yelled at him, “I am the chief of neurosurgery-”

“Well, you’re not acting like it,” he responded blandly, hinting at the mini tantrum she appeared to be having in his office, “You’re being completely irrational…”

“I had a surgery booked.”

“And you’re pregnant and you’ve already logged almost 30 hours in the past two days, so no,” he cut her off, raising a hand to silence her, “No more long hours.” Before he could continue his lecture, a knock came to the door, and Derek peaked through the crack, just in time to see the mess. He chose to ignore it, knowing he had more important matters at hand, and went ahead with his inquiry.

“Hey Hunt, is the patient prepped for OR 1 as yet?” Derek asked, not knowing of the yelling match, or its origin.

Before Owen could get a word out, Amelia turned to her brother and yelled, “Get out!” He froze, looking at Derek with a bit of shock on his face. He had not expected her to yell at him.

Derek looked between the two before looking back at his sister. “Okay then…” As soon as he exited the room, she glared at Owen once more.

“Amelia, just…please-”

“No,” she cut him off this time, raising her hand; the hurricane had only just begun, “You cannot use your power to boss me around and undermine me, just because I am pregnant with your child!” she yelled at him, clearly enough for some of the doctors outside to hear, “I am not your property, and I am not a plant!” It was hard to keep a straight face when she had just compared herself to a plant, but Owen knew it would be counterintuitive to laugh right now. They had yet to announce to the rest of the hospital the good news, so he was sure those eavesdropping doctors would do the job for them, and probably spread the news of their most recent fight too.

“You don’t know how to take care of yourself.” She furrowed her eyebrows at him in disgust. How could he have the audacity to say that?

“I know how to take care of myself,” she growled, her fists clenched as though she was ready to pummel him, “Let’s not forget that I had to birth and raise Ryan, all by myself!” She pressed a palm to her forehead as she tried to regain control of her emotions. “You just don’t know how to stop controlling people.”

“I am not controlling you, Amelia,” he disagreed, “Look, can we just simmer down a bit?”

“So, what is it that you’re doing?” she accused him, folding her arms. Owen sighed and scratched the back of his head.

Walking to her, he squeezed her arms and looked down at her. “I just want you to be safe and I want the baby to be healthy, and you’re not being safe!”

“Owen, I’m pregnant, not dying,” she reminded him, “And Arizona has not said anything about me staying off of my feet. For god’s sake, I’m only two and half months along!”

He sighed, knowing she was a little right but not wanting to admit it. He was worried about her; this was his first child. “Amelia, could you just please follow my orders and stay home more?”

“No,” she said, pulling herself out of his grasp, “I am no longer just your subordinate, Owen. You asked me to marry you, I am pregnant with your child!” He frowned at her as he truly began to feel the shame of the way he acted. “You cannot just give me orders, like an intern, and expect me to follow you like we’re living in the 1950’s!” He folded his arms and averted his eyes to the floor, clenching his jaw. She was right, and he knew it, and he’d already done the damage. “You undermined me and embarrassed me today, in front of my subordinates. You made it seem like I was handicapped!”

“Amelia…”

“Can I start parking in the cripple spot too?” she vulgarly asked, pointing in the general direction of the car park. Owen pinched the bridge of his nose, not knowing what else to say. Amelia walked towards him, intending to walk past him, but not before saying, “This is getting ridiculous now, Owen. Last week, you were sending interns, with keto meals, to take my vitals every six hours. This week, you’re running my department for me.” He felt terrible because he knew now; he was overdoing it. He had been stifling her this entire time, and he thought he was being caring, and truthfully he couldn’t help but wonder if this is how Cristina felt too; if that was why she truly left. “It’s either you give up being chief, or…” She frowned; she couldn’t say the words. She just fiddled with the engagement ring on her finger, wondering if she had really thought this marriage thing through with him. “I can’t do this anymore; something has to give.” And with that, she left.

That fight had been just a few days ago, so it was still fresh in their minds as they sat in the bathtub together. Amelia had not broken up with him, but she had stopped wearing the engagement ring, so he didn’t know where they stood. Quite frankly, he was surprised that she’d even invited him in the tub with her. Everything was all so confusing these days, and he hoped it was just the hormones, and not them falling apart.

“This is not the chief speaking to you,” he laughed uncomfortably, deep in thought now. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about some stuff…” He didn’t know where to start, but thankfully she did.

“I have too,” she affirmed, “I’m sorry for making you feel like you have to choose between your job and me. It’s just that the micromanaging…”

“Amelia, I get it,” he cut her off, cupping his hands around her stomach. She looked up at him, the curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “I’ve been entirely too pushy with you, as of recently.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Go on…”

He smiled as he looked down at her, already sensing that she would forgive him. “I think I got caught up worrying about all the ways you could get hurt.” He shifted uncomfortably as he looked around, adding, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad, it’s been my dream since…I don’t know. But I’ve never been through a pregnancy before, and honestly, it’s scary.” She watched him with concern, sensing that he was being vulnerable. “All the baby articles online, all the medical knowledge, it’s always racing through my mind when I see you.” He furrowed his brows and frowned, and Amelia could feel his pulse quickening, his heart thumping against her back. “I know you’ve been through the baby thing already, but this is my first child, Amelia. And I…” He looked back at her again, his gaze a mixture of worry, fear, and love. “I want her to be perfect, and happy and healthy, and I don’t want to have to worry about if you are standing too long, or not eating enough, and if it will hurt her. Or hurt you.” He squeezed his arms around her stomach a little tighter. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself, more than anything.”

“Owen I’m not going to hurt myself,” she giggled, softened by his caring words. Initially, she felt like he was being a control freak, but now she was hearing otherwise; he was just experiencing anxiety. “You can be a caring father, and not control my every move, at the same time.”

“That sounds more like an oxymoron,” Owen grumbled unenthusiastically. Amelia sat up in the tub, and Owen followed, his hands holding either sides of her waist as he helped her up and out of the water to get to her towel. “How am I supposed to do that?” He got out of the tub and wrapped his towel around his waist before joining Amelia by the mirror sink, standing behind her. She had already begun combing her hair and appeared to be purposely ignoring Owen.

“You can start by answering this question,” Amelia quipped, twisting, and pointing the comb at him behind her as she put on a gameshow voice, “What colour do you think our baby’s hair will be?”

Owen raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Amelia, what does this have to do with anything?”

“Just answer,” she prompted him, shaking the comb in front of his face like a mic.

Owen smirked as he looked at her in the mirror; she was entirely too playfully attractive for him not to entertain this little game. “Okay. Red.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and grinned.

“I think so too,” she agreed. She faced the mirror again and leaned into his chest, a dreamy look on her face as she slowly twirled a strand of her wet hair around her fingers. “I think it’ll be a girl.”

“I hope it is,” Owen sighed peacefully, wrapping his arms around her waist as he lightly rested his chin on the top of her head, “And I hope her eyes are blue like yours.”

“With rosy skin,” she added to the imagination.

“Rosy,” Owen repeated, liking the way it sounded in his voice, “Let’s call her that.”

With an amused grin on her face, she said, “We don’t know if it’s a girl.”

“It’s definitely a girl,” Owen feigned ignorantly, making Amelia giggle again, “I can feel it right here.” He softly poked a finger in her side, knowing she would jump.

“Don’t tickle me!” she exclaimed, shying away from his steady grip on her waist. He smiled as he watched her in the mirror, knowing in his heart that it would be a girl. It had to be.

“Rosalie,” Amelia whispered once they settled into each other’s embrace, “Rosie, for short.”

“I love it,” Owen grinned even wider. He looked down at her, turning her in his arms as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

She smiled up at him, returning the kiss, but on his mouth. “How could you not?” And she was right. It was impossible not to love her, which was the reminder he needed to finally make his mind up.

“I’m thinking of giving up being the chief,” he said against her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Taken aback, Amelia pulled away from him to look at him. “Really?” He nodded; his eyes hooded with love. “Just like that?”

“You said it yourself,” he whispered, “How could I not love you?”

She smiled with a questioning look. “Are you sure?”

“I want to be around more,” he explained, “I don’t want to miss out on our baby’s life because I’m sorting through paperwork and yelling at doctors.” He looked her up and down, truly looked at her. “I want to take care of you, and not in the chief-y way.”

“Well, you’ve convinced me,” she relented, grinning at him, “but I think you’ll miss the job.”

“Are you crazy? I hate paperwork,” he dramatically exclaimed, filling her neck with kisses, “And I hate dealing with doctors’ problems.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, you seemed to enjoy it,” she played along, “Bossing people around, telling them where to stick their budgets. It was kinda hot.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, and she nodded playfully, stealing a quick kiss from him. “Well, as your boss, I order you to take off your towel.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else,” he began, turning her around while he unraveled her from the towel, “you will be punished.” He faced her back towards him, his hand making its way to her rear and spanking her once. He was delighted to hear her gasp of surprise, and more so when he saw the shocked expression, she gave him in the mirror.

“You see, this is how we got here in the first place,” she reminded him, laughing.

“The spanking, or the sex?” he sought to confirm, dotting the back of her neck with kisses.

“Both,” she giggled.

#omelia #amelia shepherd #owen hunt #omeliafics

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rosesgonerogue · 4 years

Text

How to be a Dad 101

Chapter Six - Modeling

Jasonette July Day Eight

Masterlist

When Jason was a kid, his family was too poor to take any sort of trip, which at the moment he was missing. He didn’t have any concept of how normal people travelled, but it turned out that even if you were travelling to Paris in a private jet, doing so with your entire family was a downright nightmare.

“Does everyone have all of their bags?” Bruce was calling above the din. “And passports? We need to act like a normal family, so you need to exchange your money for euros when we get there, we shouldn’t just show up with them.”

“B, you’ve already said that at least fifteen times,” Stephanie complained.

“Why exactly is she coming on a family vacation?” Damian demanded. “She’s not even dating Drake anymore.”

“Face it, Damian. Your family chose me, they were stuck with you.”

“Father, you need to choose between Brown and Drake. I cannot be expected to tolerate both for an extended period of time.”

“Oh calm down, Little D. It’ll be fun!” Dick said, slinging an arm over his youngest brother’s shoulder.

Jason sidled over to Cass and whispered, “How many weapons did Bruce say we could bring?”

She looked at him with her unreadable dark eyes. “None.”

“Okay, that’s what he said, but how many are you bringing?”

Silently she held up seven fingers.

“Damn, I have eight. Do you think I can get away with that?” They looked at each other a moment. “You’re right, B definitely has more than that.”

“If you all don’t get yourselves and your belongings on the plane within the next five minutes you’re finding your own way to Paris!” Selina called over the noise.

“Move it, suckers!” Babs yelled, running at least three people’s feet over with her wheelchair in her haste. Despite the pain she caused, once she got to the plane, she was able to expertly maneuver herself onto it, letting Dick struggle aboard with both of their luggage. Jason kept himself as far away from the eldest Wayne child as possible. Every time Dick looked at Jason, he could see the apology in his brother’s eyes, which only served to piss him off all over again. Maybe he was being irrational, and maybe he was just on edge because they were heading to Paris, but Jason couldn’t really find it in himself to care.

He slept fitfully on the flight, doing his best to ignore his family, be it Dick and Babs being the disgusting newlywed couple, or just Damian being… Damian. His dreams were strange and disjointed, filled with blue eyes and whispered French.

After dealing with customs and getting checked into their hotel (which was almost exclusively inhabited by their party, because of course it was), Jason had no desire to ever go on another family trip ever again. The thought of doing all of that without skipping lines and cutting corners they were able to thanks to Bruce’s money was almost painful. But then again, people with less money also didn’t have to deal with Damian and Tim in the same space for an extended period of time.

Thanks to the nap he’d had on the plane and the fact that he was in Paris, Jason found he couldn’t sleep. He found himself wandering the hotel, taking in the opulent surroundings. He thought he would only see hotel staff if he were to see anyone, but on his way to the hotel’s twenty-four hour gym, he stumbled across a blonde dressed vaguely like a bumblebee who was arguing with someone on the phone.

“Listen, Dupain-Cheng, you are not taking advantage of these clients. No! You’ve been staying up at all hours of the night – don’t you dare argue with me, you’re up right now, aren’t you? And you have to take care of gremlins in the morning. No, she agreed to do it, it’s not exploiting them, it’s allowing them to pay you back for the giant favor you’re doing them! Fine, I will give her a discount, but this is not how you build a brand! Now go to sleep, the photoshoot is tomorrow. Don’t give me that, we both know you’ll finish things up with time to spare. Now go. To. Sleep.”

After a few moments the blonde hung up, and she seemed to be in a foul mood when she saw Jason. “And what do you want?”

“To get to the gym? You’re blocking the door.”

“And you were just eavesdropping. Your French isn’t bad for an American,” she said, flouncing away with a hair flip. “But your accent is horrible.”

“It can’t be as bad as your attitude,” he sneered under his breath before shoving into the exercise room.

Once inside, Jason ran himself to exhaustion, grateful when he collapsed into bed and fell asleep almost immediately. His dreamless sleep was fleeting, though, because it felt like only moments later that he was jolted awake by the sound of his phone ringing.

Glaring at the offending technology, he considered silencing it, but when he saw it was Selina, he thought better of that.

“Yes?”

“You have an hour to look awake and presentable. Meet up in the hotel lobby.”

She hung up as abruptly as she had called, leaving Jason blinking at his phone. He considered rolling over and going back to sleep, but he’d probably need the entire hour just to get his hair to Selina’s standards.

Cass was already in the lobby when Jason was finally ready, and thankfully Dick was nowhere to be seen. Sidling up next to his sister, Jason asked, “Do you know what we’re doing?” His level of concern grew exponentially when she shook her head. Everyone knew Bruce was weak for Cass, so if Cass didn’t know, that meant that the scheme was entirely Selina’s.

Unsurprisingly, Grayson the peacock was the last person to make it to the group. Babs was too annoyed with him to even make some sort of innuendo, she just complained about how long it took for him to do his hair.

“So what’s the plan, Selina?” Stephanie asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“You’ll find out when we get there. Follow me, we have a ways to walk,” Selina said, smiling wickedly.

The family obediently trudged after Selina, grouping up as they moved. Jason saw Dick make a beeline for him, but Babs caught his arm. “Babe, will you stick with Damian to make sure that he doesn’t maim any Parisians?”

“Sure, babe,” he said, deflating a bit.

As expected, only moments later Babs rolled up next to him. “Listen here, you giant. If you’re going to make me catch up to you, the least you can do is push my wheelchair.”

“Whatever,” Jason said, doing as she asked.

“I hope you know you’re killing my husband, by the way. He’s goingi crazy because he doesn’t know what to do to apologize to you.”

“Good.”

“I know you don’t mean that, Jason, and I know that because we both know I’m the one you’re actually mad at.”

“Am I?”

“Bringing up the French girl was a low blow. You told me about that in confidence, and I threw it in your face. I’m sorry, Jason.”

“That did piss me off, I just… Babs, why did you marry Dick?”

“Is that a trick question? Because I love him, stupid.”

“But how did you know that you loved him that much? Because ever since I met my ‘French girl,’ I can’t even think about looking at someone else. It’s insane because I knew her for like a day, but I’ve never… I’ve never felt like that with anyone before, but I didn’t feel right trying to make anything more out of what we had because of how royally screwed up our lives are. How could I subject someone who is possibly a literal angel to our lives? I’ve never questioned my decision on that before, but lately I can’t stop thinking about her, and now we’re here, in Paris where she lives.”

“Wow.” Babs said. “I didn’t know… That’s a lot, Jay.”

“Thanks.”

“Give a girl some time to process, okay? Geez. I don’t know if I believe in fate and that kind of crap, but this feels eerily like destiny. Maybe you’re meant to meet her here in Paris. If you do, then don’t run away. Stick it out for at least as long as we’re here. You wouldn’t be the first of us to have a relationship with a civilian.”

“But what if—”

“Jason, bothering yourself about all of the ‘what ifs’ is only going to drive you crazy. We don’t even know if you’re going to meet her here. Let things run their course.”

He sighed. “You’re right, thanks Babs. And I’ll tell your husband that I forgive him, the sap.”

“That’s all I ask.”

After a few blocks more, Selina abruptly stopped in front of a building. It was clearly some sort of business, but the doors only said, “MDC” across them. “This is it, kids. Come on in.”

Tim could be heard freaking out about something or other, but Jason found himself hoping that whatever was happening would be quick and painless. Inside, curiously enough, the same blonde from last night was waiting for them.

“You must be the Wayne family, here for the photoshoot,” she said in flawless English. “MDC had some personal affairs to tend to, so she will be here shortly.”

“Photoshoot?” Bruce asked, looking at Selina.

“This is the shop of the designer who is making my dress,” Selina purred with a winning smile. “Ordinarily she wouldn’t have been able to fit me, you and all the kids in with how little time we gave her, but she’s releasing her first line of clothes to the general public, and her normal models are away. It’s a fairly sizeable line, and she wanted diversity, so I volunteered our beautiful family.”

“We’re going to be modeling?” Damian asked, disgusted.

“We’re going to be modeling for MDC?!” Tim asked, nearly bouncing with excitement.

“Dude, you’re a CEO. Have some shame,” Babs said, elbowing him.

“You’re already booked and committed. Once MDC gets here she’ll decide who will be wearing what, and then we’ll get started,” the blonde said. As if on cue, there was a crash in the back room, and the blonde sighed. “That will be MDC now.”

Jason was only mildly curious what this designer might be like, but it seemed that things would be at least a bit entertaining. Even before she burst from the backroom, she was spewing frantic French to the blonde.

“Chloe, I’m so sorry I’m late, Jules kept spilling things on himself on purpose, and then the babysitter was sick, so I had to find someone else, and then I missed the train and –”

Emerging from the backroom was a beautiful pixie-like girl, a girl who had starred in almost every dream Jason had had since they’d met. Jason was completely frozen at the sight of her.

Marinette. Marinette was MDC, the only designer Selina would think of wearing on her wedding day.

She stopped at seeing the mass of people in her store, but she immediately smiled sincerely, eyes flitting from person to person. In English she said, “You must be the Wayne family, thank you so much for agreeing to model for me. It really—” she cut off mid-sentence, eyes wide. “Jason? Is that really you?”

Taglist:

@jasonette-july-2k20 @ira-sairain @myazael @pawsitivelymiraculous @nik-nak-3 @dast218 @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @vixen-uchiha @momothefemur @toodaloo-kangaroo @marinettepotterandplagg @goddessofthewestwind

Note:

In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t done yesterday’s prompt yet. It’s in the works, but my life is complete chaos, and it will just have to be late. Even though it was such a fun prompt, I have been having some severe writer’s block. Anyway, I’m super excited for the next few chapters, it’s happening!

#jasonette july 2k20 #jasonette #jason x marinette #maribat #mominette

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jerseydeanne · 3 years

Note

Joy Behar: Columbus policeman who shot Ma'Khia Bryant could have just shot 'the gun in the air' —— Holy fuck! You cannot make this shit up.

How absolutely ignorant of her!

How many times do we have to tell people to comply with the officer. Are you really that dumb?

You try and stab a cop or someone else in front of a cop you deserve everything you get in my opinion! I don’t give a flying rat’s behind what color you are!

More dumb white people are killed by cops than black. You know what we say? they probably deserved it for not obeying the officer.

Did you guys listen to the 911 call? The person is hysterical on the phone asking for help saying the girl was trying to stab them. You watch that video and the girl was out of control.

https://www.dispatch.com/story/news/crime/2021/04/22/columbus-police-shooting-makhia-bryant-appears-lawful/7318300002/

'No opportunity to de-escalate: use-of-force experts say Columbus officer obeyed training in shooting Ma'Khia BryantJohn FuttyThe Columbus Dispatch

An Ohio criminal-justice professor who studies the fatal use of force by law-enforcement officers didn't hesitate to render an opinion after watching body-camera video of a Columbus police officer fatally shooting a 16-year-old girl Tuesday afternoon on the city's Southeast Side.

"My first impression is that the officer was legally justified in using deadly force," said Philip Stinson, a Bowling Green State University professor who has compiled nationwide statistics on fatal shootings that have led to criminal charges against officers.

Ma'Khia Bryant shooting: Columbus police release 911 calls, ID of officer involved

"It's a terribly tragic situation, and my heart goes out to the girl and her family and friends," he told The Dispatch Wednesday. "But from looking at the video, it appears to me that a reasonable police officer would have had a reasonable apprehension of an imminent threat of serious bodily injury or death being imposed against an officer or someone else. That's the legal standard."

Bodycam video shows an attempted stabbing before shooting

The body-camera video, which the city first showed during a news conference late Tuesday night, captured the perspective of Officer Nicholas Reardon, who shot Ma’Khia Bryant seconds after he arrived outside a home on the 3100 block of Legion Lane on a report of an attempted stabbing.

The video shows Bryant, who is holding a knife, push a female who is falling down backwards at the officer's feet, then turn and charge at another female dressed in a pink outfit. The female in pink is pinned against a car in the driveway while Bryant appears to swing the knife at her, prompting Reardon to fire what sounds like four shots.

'She was a child.':White House comments on Ma'Khia Bryant shooting

Witnesses:'I figured it was just a girl fight.' Neighborhood witnesses saw argument before police shot Ma'Khia Bryant

Police shootings:Here are the names of people killed in police shootings in Columbus

James Scanlon, a retired Columbus Division of Police SWAT officer who spent 33 years with the division, has since trained officers, and served as an expert witness at trials in use-of-force cases, agreed with Stinson's assessment of the video.

"An officer is justified in using deadly force if his life or the life of someone else is at risk," Scanlon said Wednesday. "Few would argue that there weren't at least two lives there that were at serious risk."

In this case, Scanlon said, Reardon wasn't trying to protect himself, "but to save the life of someone he doesn't even know. ... It's a shame that no one has recognized that that officer, in all likelihood, saved one or more lives."

The legal standard by which an officer's use of force must be measured was established by the U.S. Supreme Court in the Graham vs. Connor decision.

The ruling, issued in 1989, gives police officers significant leeway in the use of deadly force when they perceive that a person poses an imminent threat to officers or others, and limits the second-guessing of that decision.

The ruling requires that an officer's actions be "judged from the perspective of a reasonable officer on the scene, rather than with the 20/20 vision of hindsight."

Any evaluation of an officer's actions must include "allowance for the fact that police officers are often forced to make split-second judgments – in circumstances that are tense, uncertain and rapidly evolving," the court found.

Stinson said Tuesday's shooting is "a good reminder that officers sometimes have to make split-second, life-or-death decisions in violent street encounters. ... These situations can escalate in a matter of milliseconds, as we saw here."

Taser, other options not available before Ma'Khia Bryant shooting

Although such shootings inevitably generate questions from the public about why an officer didn't use de-escalation techniques, or deploy a Taser or shoot the person in the leg, none of those options appeared to be available to the officer, both experts agreed.

"I don't know what the officer could have done differently," Stinson said. "Based on what I saw, there was no opportunity for the officer to de-escalate."

Scanlon said use of a Taser isn't an appropriate response "to a lethal-force situation," and police are trained to target only one thing when they shoot to protect themselves or others — "center mass" of the person they're trying to stop.

Use-of-force:Police training cited as defense in many use-of-force cases, but experts say it's outdated.

Officers are trained "to shoot until the threat is neutralized," he said.

Scanlon said the body-camera footage "is a textbook scenario that an officer would see in a film during a 'shoot/don't shoot' training exercise. That's exactly the kind of film you'd see in training rooms where you have to react to a deadly situation."

Stinson said officers "are trained and they're re-trained in use-of-force situations. One problem we see is officers who react in ways that are inconsistent with their training. I did not see that in this video.

"In this situation, inaction by the officer, I believe, would likely have resulted in serious bodily injury or death to one or more persons."

There was some confusion Wednesday about whether Columbus City Council President Shannon Hardin was suggesting that the officer had options other than deadly force.

In a written statement issued that morning, Hardin responded to the shooting by advocating change in "the city's training and hiring process. We must push for a new culture in Columbus where guns are not the final answer to every threat, and we must implement a new vision of safety in Columbus."

Based on that remark, Columbus Mayor Andrew J. Ginther was asked at an afternoon news conference if the officer should have handled Tuesday's confrontation differently.

"A lot of the other reforms and efforts that should be involved will help," the mayor said. "I don’t know if any of those things would have resulted in a different outcome based on what we’ve seen in this footage, but we won't know until this investigation is finished."

The council's chief of staff, Michael S. Brown, said late Wednesday afternoon that Hardin's statement had been misinterpreted.

Hardin was referring to a culture of gun violence "in our society as a whole," not about police officers using guns as an answer to every threat, Brown said.

"It's not about this one case."

[email protected]

@johnfutty

Thank you, Anon

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visionsofus · 3 years

Text

Wanda and Vision's Mixtape

track #1: Last Dance by Camera Can't Lie

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your request |

synopsis: In which Civil War never happened and they all lived happily ever after. Wanda and Vision dance at one of Tony’s fancy galas and are forced to address the feelings that have become apparent to themselves, and the rest of the team. Yearning included with a happy resolution after a lil bit of angsty longing.

if this was our last chance (i'd ask you to stay)

A fundraising gala wasn’t how Wanda had intended to spend her first free Friday night in over a month yet here she was, decked out in a red cocktail dress with her hair piled up in wavy curls atop her head.

Tony Stark had started by leading the team up to an actual stagewhich had Wanda feeling a hot wave of embarrassment that had little to do with the glaring heat of the spotlights overhead. She tried to stamp down the frustration that built in her with every joke cracked by the billionaire before the podium. Wanda had to give it to him this time, Tony had warned them exactly what tonight would be: a gaggle of busybody networkers and the odd philanthropist come to see the celebrities that were the Avengers. It just so happened that there was plenty of wealth to be given in exchange for a snatch of conversation with a superhero. So, Wanda knew she could grumble all she liked about how much she hated how they glorified her ‘job’ and made her famous in a way she knew she had no right to be, but that wouldn’t change the fac that she had agreed to this event. For the charities they were supporting it would be worth it. In a rare moment of understanding, Tony had even invited her to assist Pepper Potts in the distribution of funds to the various Stark sponsored charities, to see the work firsthand. It was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. Not with her history.

Tony appeared to have reached the end of his speech and the rest of the team was thankfully let go to disperse around the large gala hall. Wanda took her time following Natasha off the stage, knowing that the moment she was enveloped into the waiting crowd the real trouble would begin. Already Steve was being mobbed making Wanda grateful that the public was still relatively fearful of her.

Natasha gave her a somewhat forced smile as she walked headfirst into the crowd, heading straight for Steve. A somewhat frantic scan of the crowd and Wanda had spotted Sam who had escape to the bar, talking with a child who looked far too young to be in such a place. She directed her feet there and did her best to weave throughout the glittering crowd.

A shoulder hit hers and Wanda spun, planting her feet the same way that she had been taught in training, barely stopping herself from falling over.

“I’m so sorry,” a woman’s voice said as Wanda’s assailant turned towards her.

“That’s alright,” Wanda replied trying to smile kindly despite the pain in her shoulder, “I should have been more careful about where I was walking.”

The middle-aged woman’s eyes widened when she saw who she had bumped into and she leant away slightly in way that indicated she clearly wanted to step back but didn’t want to be rude. “No trouble at all.”

Wanda decided it was best to leave.

By the time she made it to the bar the kid had been guided off by Pepper in her usual whirlwind of reddish hair. Sam was leaning against the bar and appeared to be pointedly ignoring the group of people who were ogling him from a few seats down.

“You have a fanclub,” Wanda said in a mock whisper as she sidled up to him.

“They aren’t all for me,” Sam grinned back and sure enough a few of the group had broken off and were heading her way.

Wanda resisted the urge to say oh no and instead braced herself with a welcoming smile. Undeterred by being in the presence of two of the Avengers a youngish woman with choppy black hair extended a hand confidently.

“I’m Alisia,” she said, and Wanda returned the hand shake as warmly as she could. She hadn’t spent a whole lot of time out in public in a long time, was this how things were done?

“I’m Wanda.”

“We know!” The person standing beside Alisia was all gangly limbs but the voice that emerged was pitched with such child-like excitement it almost made Wanda smile for real.

Alisia gave her companion a sharp look. “We really admire your work.”

“Thank you…” Wanda said slowly looking at Sam for guidance. He smirked and tipped his glass to her. At least Sam had had a regular life before joining the Avengers. Wanda tried not to think about a lot of what had happened before she had joined the team, though she had attended school for a period of time, she was still seriously out of practice in making introductions.

“I’m Aron,” the tall person said extending their hand, somewhat shakily, as Alisia had done.

“Lovely to meet you,” Wanda replied, not liking how tightly her hand was held.

When neither made to make further conversation and were instead content to look at her in awe. Wanda quickly turned to the bottle of wine that Sam had before him pouring a glass for herself.

“We have a proposal for you,” said Aron abruptly breaking the awkward silence that appeared to have their friends not far off in a bit of a tizzy, judging from the groans of shame.

“A plan you could say,” Alisia added.

“To take down scientology.”

It was said with such absolute certainty that even Sam choked on his drink.

“We’ve seen what you can do, what happened in Sokovia, Lagos. You could annihilate their headquarters with a wave of your hand–”

Wanda didn’t bother to correct them on the scope of her powers at present, rather she was consumed by the heartbeat that was growing louder in her ears, the fact that her hand had begun to shake a little around the glass she held. Holding the glass tighter helped marginally in blocking the onslaught of images that threatened to overwhelm her. Pietro, Ultron, Novi Grad’s destruction, Lagos and every mistake she had made since.

Sam wasn’t laughing anymore.

“Hey guys it was really nice meeting you, but I don’t know if this is an appropriate conversation to have at a charity function,” Sam said gesturing to the room around them. Distantly Wanda registered that an orchestra had started playing somewhere.

Alisia wasn’t swayed. “It’s just a simple question, we’ve even written up a report for you with all the headquarters listed if you’d like to take it. The destruction you can cause could be of real use to our group in dismantling–”

This was not going in the direction Wanda needed it to. She tried to work through the breathing exercises that Sam had taught her or go over the mentally quietening techniques he’d said helped PTSD patients. She was usually quite good at it but hadn’t ever had to use such coping mechanisms in a public scenario. Wanda set the glass down quickly because any second she was sure it was going to shatter under her grip.

“That’s enough,” Sam said at the exact time a familiar figure stepped up to them, shielding Wanda from the warm lights overhead.

“Wanda, I’ve been looking all over for you.”

The relief that spread through her bones was tangible. Wanda felt herself straighten, take a deep breath in through her mouth and out through her nose.

“I was waiting her for you,” she replied breathlessly with her first real smile of the night.

Vision’s arm came to a comforting rest around her back, his hand cupping her elbow as he nodded to the Sam and lead her away. They left in time for her to hear Sam questioning the kids about the rest of their friends who appeared to be taking advantage of the free flow bar despite being clearly underage.

“Thank you, you saved me,” Wanda murmured as they arced around the outside of the crowd which had begun to section off into little groups, many focused around one or two members of the team.

“I thought you might need rescuing,” Vision said back and tapped his forehead with his free hand, indicating the mind stone that was usually atop his forehead. Tony had made it perfectly clear that Vision could appear as himself tonight if he so wished, but as Vision had confided in her beforehand, he hadn’t wanted to make any of the donors uncomfortable. His sensitivity to others warmed her heart usually, but the way he hid himself didn’t feel right. If anyone ought to be hidden away out of sight of the wealthy donors it was her.

As though knowing what she was thinking, Vision pulled her closer and over to an empty table where a handful of belongings had been abandoned in favour of the networking happening out on the floor. He poured her a fresh glass of water and placed it in her hand.

“Thank you, if you hadn’t saved me, I don’t know what I would have done,” Wanda said and reached out to touch his hand.

“It’s alright.”

“Still, you shouldn’t need to,” Wanda said sheepishly, not quite knowing why she was still talking. Thank you had been simple enough, where were these excuses coming from?

“You know why I do it,” Vision said making out to hold her hand in his, but Wanda was quick to draw it back to the water glass before her.

She did know why he did it. Vision had made that veryclear two weeks ago when they had returned from a particularly difficult mission. Things hadn’t gone the way they were supposed to, and Wanda had dislocated her shoulder mid fight. She’d used her magic to push herself away from the battle, leaving Steve and Sam to take the brunt of the thugs they had discovered were attempting to reproduce old Stark military technology. All it had taken was that spark of blinding pain as her shoulder slipped free of its socket for Wanda’s powers to momentarily get out of control. She wasn’t sure why she’d done it, if it was even a conscious decision really. But she must have reached out to Vision. He arrived just in time to knock the crap out of one of the thugs who’d stepped towards her to finish the work.

Vision had fallen to his knees next to her and assessed her injury immediately, even as she struggled to speak past the pain and explain that she was fine, that Sam and Steve needed help. He had lifted her with endless care and taken her straight to the SUV that Natasha was waiting in. He’d even gotten terse with Nat about Wanda’s condition and the need to get back to the compound but waiting for the others naturally won out (Wanda had had to deal with his disapproving muttering as he tried to make her comfortable in the back of the car). When they were eventually joined by Sam and Steve the pain had gone down significantly but Vision was on edge. He insisted on holding her steady in the back of the car, and when they arrived back at the compound and called for a doctor, he had carried her from room to room until they reached the infirmary. Vision had been a constant presence as the doctor arrived and set about administering pain medication and setting her shoulder back into its joint.

After a brief argument, Wanda had been allowed back to her regular rooms where Vision had pestered her all evening with fresh ice packs, more pillows and a steaming bowl of chicken soup (Wanda had to remind him this was usually just for the flu but when he began to list its benefits post-exercion she gave in and ate it all).

It wasn’t until late that night as she drifted in and out of a hazy sleep, waking every now and then to the throbbing in her shoulder as the pain medication slowly wore off, did Wanda realise Vision was still beside her.

His head was slumped against his chest in the chair that usually sat in the corner of her room. His hand was holding hers and it tightened as she shifted into a sitting position. Registering that she was awake Vision had snapped upright and pulled his hand away.

“Sorry,” he’d said and seemed to be about to stand up, “I–”

“It’s fine,” Wanda said assuring enough that he sat down once more, “I want you to stay.”

His face softened in the near darkness and he pulled his chair closer. They whispered quietly to each other for three quarters of an hour, despite no chance of waking up the rest of the team (Wanda’s room being sound proofed when she’d moved in thanks to violent sleep terrors in her first few weeks). When her eyes finally started to droop again Vision helped her lie down and again, he hesitated. Their eyes locked and for a moment Wanda thought for sure that he’d kiss her. Instead, he had leant closer and pressed his forehead to hers for the shortest of moments. It wound up being infinitely more intimate than a peck on the cheek might have been. The breath that he sighed as he rose again was of relief and Wanda felt it then – the absolute fear he’d felt that morning when her distressed cry for help had reached him along some line of connection between them (owing to the stone, she assumed). She wondered if Vision had ever expected himself to be presented with the idea of loss.

Worse yet, Vision had unknowingly (or perhaps consciously) left their link open as he resumed his seat and took her hand again. Wanda had done her best to pretend to sleep as Vision had closed his eyes, no doubt his brain was moving as quick as ever behind fluttering eyelids. But it was difficult to fully relax as he fed the feelings along this line of connection Wanda hadn’t even realised, they’d had. She supposed it made sense, they hadn’t always needed to use words and got along in a way that surprised most of the team. Wanda was about to ask Vision to feelmore quietly so she could get some sleep when his eyes opened again and whatever he’d been researching was left to the back of his mind. Instead, she felt his gaze on her ‘sleeping’ face and the following wave of affection that flowed to her, warming her from top to bottom. Adoration, coloured by fear yes, but overwhelmingly loving.

They’d remained that way most of the night, Vision retreating into his mind for most of the time no doubt aware that Wanda spent two hours focusing on regulating her breaths so that when she eventually dropped off into oblivion, she was exhausted.

They hadn’t discussed that day since. Vision had been gone by morning and Wanda wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t dreamt the whole thing up. Except for the fact that she felt the same way every time she saw him and recalled the warmth of that night. Then Vision had been sent south and she’d been on house arrest for a week to heal her shoulder properly. They hadn’t really had the opportunity to sit down like this.

So yes, Wanda knew why he did what he did. Why he was drawn to her like this. But she also couldn’t ignore the stone that hung between them and the connection it held to both their lives. How could she call the feelings that flowed through her real – what if it was all owing to the stupid stone in his head? That was the fear that had stuck with her in the two years since they’d started living together at the compound, she wasn’t about to start listening to her heart now.

So, she snatched her hand back, immediately regretting her action at the flash of emotion across Vision’s face and went back to her water. She convinced herself that his statement, you know why I do it, didn’t require any further discussion for the moment.

To Wanda’s surprise the silence between them was broken by the small orchestra in one corner of the hall which had started up a mighty waltz. Dancing? She mused to herself. Sure enough couples had begun to pair off across what was revealed to be a dance floor in the centre..

While Wanda’s eyes had been stuck on the floor, Vision’s had been fixed to her and she could see he was about to ask to dance. She knew she should say no, but also knew she wouldn’t be able to if it came down to it.

Her second saviour of the night was Steve Rogers who happened to walk past at exactly that moment. Wanda launched herself up and in a few short strides was at his side asking for a dance with a mocking curtsey, a dismayed Vision left behind her. It has to be like thisshe told herself.

“Would you care to dance, Captain?” Steve looked taken aback at first but quickly joined in on the charade.

“Of course, milady,” and extended an elbow in a way that reminded Wanda that going dancing like this had probably been fairly common for Steve when he was a teenager.

They took up a position on the outer rim of the dance floor as Wanda tried to find her feet and recall what little she knew about waltzing from television and the one dance lesson Nat had teased out of her. Thankfully Steve was an excellent partner. She knew there were a whole host of jealous eyes on her as they spun around but Wanda paid them little attention. Her thoughts were so clearly occupied, and so obviously on Vision that Steve had to save her from stumbling a few times.

“It doesn’t have to be like this between you two, y’know?” Steve said giving her a comforting smile.

Wanda sighed hopelessly. “It does though.”

“I don’t know everything that is happening or if this helps, but you know that no one in the team would have an issue with it right?”

“I know, thank you.” It was comforting coming from him, but Wanda knew it was the least of her concerns.

“So why do you avoid his advances?” Steve asked bluntly in a way she knew only Steve would. “Are his feelings not reciprocated?”

Wanda flushed. “No, they are reciprocated…”

“So, what’s the problem.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“It isn’t,” Steve said shrugging and Wanda thought she noticed a little edge to his voice. “If you both feel something strong, I can’t begin to imagine what could be keeping you from each other. At least nothing worth listening too.”

“Maybe,” Wanda said thoughtfully. She wanted to tell Steve about the connection they seemed to have, her fear that their connection was down to the stone and the stone alone. That she had imagined all the instances over the last year when her heart had fluttered or warmed at the sight of him. But she knew, deep down, that this wasn’t the heart of the fear. She was more afraid than she’d been in a long time. It wasn’t the fear that came with regular life-threatening missions or the fear she had felt crouched below her childhood bed, waiting for a bomb to finally detonate. It was the fear that she’d get attached and when she eventually lost Vision… that this time she wouldn’t climb out of the pit of grief.

“Don’t let fear be your compass,” Steve said squeezing her hand and pulling her to a stop by the outskirts of the dancers. He was so intuitive when it came to what she was worrying about that it was unnerving. He also knew precisely what to say. “Take it as someone who didn’t take the leap when he had the chance.”

Even if Wanda had wanted to protest this, she didn’t have the chance as Vision appeared yet again. His brow was furrowed, it furrowed deeper when he caught sight of Steve’s hand which she hadn’t realised she’d still been holding.

“May I take over?” Vision asked looking rather than at Steve, but directly at Wanda.

She nodded to Steve and he gave her hand one last squeeze. “Take the leap.” With that last reminder he disappeared off into the crowd. Without hesitation, Vision offered up his hand.

In moments Vision had her spinning around the floor, no longer hidden around the outside but edging closer to the centre of the dance floor. His movements were fluid, his hand a soft assurance cupping her back, his left hand guiding her through the dance. Without warning the orchestra picked up a livelier tune and the dance changed, some couples left the floor in surprise, but more were quick to replace them. The contemporary music filled the hall around them, but Wanda paid it little attention, her gaze was focused on Vision only.

After a particularly wonderful spin that had Wanda twirling back into Vision’s embrace, she felt she was finally able to form words.

“I didn’t know you could dance?”

“Until a few minutes ago I couldn’t,” Vision said honestly, a somewhat sheepish smile grace his face. “The only reason it took me so long to go after you was that I didn’t want to fumble on the dance floor. I was watching videos…” He trailed off in something like embarrassment.

“Well, I’m glad one of us knows what to do.”

“I–” She began.

“Wanda–” Vision started and they both looked at each other before laughing.

“Would you like to go first?” He offered.

“I just wanted to apologise for leaving you at the table, it was rude.”

“Not at all,” Vision said shaking his head fervently, “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. I’d hate to think that I’ve pressured you into anything, I’d never want to do that. If anything that I’ve said, or done, has made you uncomfortable, tonight or in the past–”

“No,” Wanda said, cutting him off more forcefully than she intended. She cleared her throat, her cheeks warming again. “You haven’t pressure me into anything, this is entirely me. I’ve been acting without thinking about what we both feel and what I want.”

Before she could elaborate on what she had just revealed they were whipped up in the music once more and she was spent spinning around again and again. She barely felt her feet moving across the shining marble of the floor and had to check that she wasn’t legitimately levitating. Pairs moved to make space for them as Vision led her through a simple but elegant routine of spinning, stepping and swaying. Wanda relished the feeling of his hand at her back and the closeness between them. The intimacy as clear despite the hundred eyes piercing into their back as they flew around the space in perfect synchronicity. With a final crescendo that left Vision to dip her gracefully, Wanda couldn’t help but laugh, her arms holding onto him tightly. When he pulled her up, her arms settled around his neck and they swayed for the final bars of the song before the audience began too applaud the orchestra. They were left staring at each other, almost nose to nose. Wanda noted that she was breathing hard, and it wasn’t entirely from the exertion of dancing. She was so focused on his eyes and the way they were looking at each other, the knowing and understanding passing between them. With a slight hesitation she reached up and pressed a hand to his cheek and felt the warmth there as he leaned into her caress.

There moment was interrupted by a loud wolf whistle and Wanda started to realise that they were somewhat the centre of attention and that the dancing had stopped for the night. The source of the wolf whistle was, unsurprisingly, Tony himself.

“We should get out the way,” Wanda said backing away. She saw the momentary fear on Vision’s face, or rather felt it crackle in the air around them and took the opportunity to extend her hand. It was a simple gesture, but she knew as he gently took her hand that it meant everything they hadn’t yet said. It was what Vision had been waiting for, the confirmation of his feelings and the return of hers and that was all they needed for the moment. Wanda squeezed his hand tighter as they stepped around the groups of people blocking their way out of the hall. Vision seemed somewhat confused about where they were going but realisation kicked in when Wanda pulled him behind the curtains that lead to the backstage area of the events hall. The heavy black material swung shut behind them, thoroughly insulating their voices from the outside world.

“Should we talk about this?” Vision said as Wanda dropped his hand and turned back to face him. He gestured between them at this which summed up exactly how uncertain he still was.

“Why talk?” Wanda asked, tilting her head and stepping forward.

One hand caught the lapel of his blue suit, the other rested against his chest as Vision took her face in his hands with all the care in the world. His breath was a whisper against her face as he delicately kissed her cheek on one side, then the other. He pressed his warm lips to her forehead. Starting at her jaw next he pressed tender kisses all the way until he reached her mouth. Wanda tilted her head up and her eyes fluttered open. Vision had dropped his phased glamour and was his usual self, eyes glowing somewhat in the dark. The stone sat quietly at his forehead, but Wanda didn’t spare it a glance. Perhaps this connection was partly due to the stone, but that couldn’t be all it was. This feeling had grown over time, it had been slow and then suddenly quick until she was hurtling towards the cliff and falling before she knew it.

When Vision pressed his lips against hers, she couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face as she flung her arms around him. Finally, her soul seemed to sigh. She was still afraid, but it was a different kind of fear, the fear that she might pass this up, this feeling that was threatening to make her heart beat out of her chest. That she might miss the opportunity to have a life with Vision was more frightening that dangerous missions or the shadow of death always at her back.

Vision drew back slightly, his forehead was still pressed to hers, but his hands had slid down to her waist. Without hesitation Wanda threw her arms around him and pulled him close. It was a moment before he returned the motion. The air crackled around the pair with something only they could sense, affection and longing hung about them that made Wanda press into his embrace further. There were no more words to say for the moment, Wanda had taken her leap and now she had him she was never going to let go.

#wandavision #wanda x vision #scarlet vision fanfic #ao3 fanfiction #Wanda Maximoff #vision #scarlet witch #visionsofusfics

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ominousunflower · 4 years

Text

By Your Side

Written for Day 29 (Sunset) of @ladrienjune

Summary: Angry and alone, Adrien waits on top of the Eiffel Tower for his lady.

Word count: 4361

Read on AO3

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Legs dangling over the edge of the Eiffel Tower, Adrien stares out at the citrus sky, warm reds and oranges glowing with the light of the setting sun. Normally, he’d find the sight romantic, and would dream of evening dances and honey-lit dinners—but tonight, he can only think that night is approaching, and that pretty things don’t last.

A few pigeons fly past, and Adrien’s nose twitches instinctively. He scratches it, then scowls at the pale band of skin on his ring finger where his Miraculous should be.

Stupid.

With a sigh, Adrien checks his phone again. He’d just texted Marinette a minute ago, but shouldn’t she be here by now? Her home isn’t that far away.

Adrien drums his fingers against the metal of the tower and continues to wait.

He’s counted twenty-seven seconds under his breath when Ladybug swings into sight. A moment later, she touches down on the beam beside him.

“Hi,” she says.

Adrien barely manages a smile. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.” Ladybug props her hands on her hips. “So, how did my kitty get stranded up here?”

Groaning, Adrien pulls his knees toward his chest and presses his face against them. “Because he’s stupid and impulsive.”

“Chasing pigeons, then?”

“No.” Shame burns in Adrien’s veins, white-hot now that Ladybug is here to witness his stupidity. “I threw my Miraculous, and Plagg wouldn’t get it for me.”

Ladybug snorts. “That sounds like him. Where is he, then?”

“We had a fight,” Adrien grumbles. “And now, here I am, alone and stupid, stuck on top of the Eiffel Tower.”

“You’re not stupid,” Ladybug says softly. Out of the corner of his eye, Adrien sees her sit down next to him, black spots shifting in his periphery. “And you’re definitely not alone.” Her hand rests lightly on his shoulder, but with the weight of everything else, it feels like an anvil. “Why did you come up here by yourself?”

The tower is silent, save the sound of a pigeon cooing somewhere overhead. Adrien slowly lifts his head, eyes fixed on the golden sky. Words exist, somewhere on the back of his tongue, but he can’t seem to spit them out.

Ladybug sits silently beside him, although Adrien can see that she’s fidgeting. She winds the string of her yo-yo around her finger and unwinds it; flips the yo-yo open, flips it shut; then reattaches it to her waist, and wrings her hands, taps her fingers, pats her leg.

Adrien almost smiles. It’s such a Marinette thing to do. She always has to be moving or doing something—sitting still is probably one of the only things she’s bad at.

“Sorry,” Ladybug says. “I’m distracting you, aren’t I?”

“There’s nothing to distract me from,” Adrien says. “I…I’m mad, I guess. I don’t know. Therapy only does so much when you can’t tell your therapist that you’re Chat Noir.”

Ever since they defeated his father a few weeks ago, Adrien has felt stuck. Of course, his therapist keeps giving him tips, and coping mechanisms, and exercises—but it feels like she’s giving Adrien just one key when there are two doors. No matter what Adrien tries, he’s still trapped.

“Mad at your father?” Ladybug asks. “Or mad at someone else? Is it me?”

Her hand retreats from Adrien’s shoulder, and as much as he wants to, Adrien can’t bring himself to pursue it. “No,” he says. “Ladybug, how could I ever be angry with you?”

“I put your father in prison.”

“We put my father in prison,” Adrien says, “and even then, you could argue that he did it to himself.”

Adrien starts to turn toward her, but he still can’t bring himself to face those blue eyes of hers—and so he keeps watching the sky instead. It’s getting darker by the minute, the reds fading to purples. Soon they’ll be black, all color drained away by night.

“It’s normal to be angry at him,” Ladybug says.

“I’m angry at everything,” Adrien says. “Not just him.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Adrien says, but the words he’s dammed up are already pouring out. “It’s just not fair. Why did I have to be chosen for the Black Cat Miraculous? What are the chances that Maître Fu would pick the son of a supervillain?”

“I…guess it was fate.”

“Screw fate,” Adrien hisses. “He should have picked someone else. That’s why I threw that stupid ring off this tower. I never asked for this.”

His eyes sting, and he squeezes them shut, praying that tears don’t escape.

“I’m sorry, Adrien,” Ladybug says.

It’s the only thing she can say, really—and yet, it’s infuriating. Why can’t she solve Adrien’s problems, when it’s so easy for her to Miraculous Ladybug away the city’s woes? Where’s the Lucky Charm to help him?

Adrien inhales deeply through his nose, stopping those words before they can tumble out. He won’t blame her. He won’t blame the girl he loves, especially when it’s not her fault that he’s hurting.

“Of course,” Adrien adds, “I can’t just throw the ring away. I mean, I did—but in a minute, you’ll go down and get it for me, and then I’ll be stuck with it again, because I have responsibilities. I always do. I can’t just quit being Chat Noir.” He glares down at his lap, watching as a tear darkens the denim of his jeans. “I threw the ring straight at the sun, you know. But it didn’t go far enough.”

“You could quit,” Ladybug says, after a pause. “If you wanted to. I—I can’t force you to keep being my partner.”

Deep down, Adrien knows that she’s trying to be understanding—but her acquiescence cuts deeper than angry words. He wants Ladybug to fight for him. He wants her to beg him to stay, or scold him for overreacting.

“Just…name one good thing about all of this,” Adrien says, as another tear escapes his eye. “One thing. Anything that’s actually good.”

“We got your mother back,” Ladybug says. “And she’s going to be okay, Adrien. The doctors and Wayzz say that she’ll wake up any day now.”

“I know,” Adrien snaps. “And any day now, I’ll have to explain to her what happened. I’ll have to sit by her bed and tell her, Oh, sorry, your husband became a supervillain and terrorized the city while you were gone, so now he’s in prison and you’re a single parent. Also, I’m in public school, because I couldn’t stand being cooped up in our stupid mansion any longer, and even if you’re back now, I still don’t want to be anywhere near it, or you, because…because…”

Adrien closes his eyes and curls in on himself. He hadn’t realized it until he said the words just now—but he doesn’t think he can look at his mother without thinking of what his father has done.

“Adrien,” Ladybug whispers.

“I can’t look her in the eye,” Adrien says, tasting salt on his lips. “What if she’s mad that we put him in jail? How can I live with her, knowing we did that?”

“She’ll understand,” Ladybug says. “Once she hears—”

“You don’t know that.” Adrien shakes his head. “I hate all of this. Everyone looks at me differently at school, and the tabloids are relentless. My family was famous before, but now it’s notorious.”

Ladybug’s hand returns to Adrien’s shoulder, and she moves forward, slowly enough that he could stop her if he wanted to. When he doesn’t, she wraps him in a hug, one of her hair ribbons tickling his cheek.

“I think you’re one of the strongest Miraculous users there’s ever been,” she says.

It’s not what Adrien was expecting her to say, and the words sound like a foreign language at first. “No,” he says. “I mean, compared to you—”

“Don’t say it,” Ladybug says, hugging him tighter. “I’m the Guardian. I know things.”

“You’re a teenager.”

“I’m old enough.”

“Of course,” Adrien says. “Sixteen years old. A wellspring of ancient wisdom.”

“I mean it.” Ladybug leans back, and Adrien’s finally forced to look her in the eyes—bright and clear, like the afternoon sky, nothing like the fading light overhead. “You’ve gone through so much these past few weeks. Of course you’re angry. And I wish I could do more for you, because I’m your partner, and your friend—”

“And my lady, and my princess,” Adrien says. He reaches up and cups her cheek, thumb smoothing over the line of her mask. “I’m sorry. You know I won’t leave you to defend Paris by yourself, right? I’m just overwhelmed right now.”

Ladybug’s brow wrinkles. “You can take a break, if you need to. If you think it’s better for you—”

“The best thing for me is to be by your side.”

“Are you sure?” Ladybug asks, and Adrien hates that she’s questioning that. “What if it’s just making things harder?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Ladybug says. She runs her fingers through Adrien’s messy hair and tucks a strand behind his ear, her touch making his eyes flutter shut. “You just said you weren’t.”

“It’s fine,” Adrien says, weakly.

“I’ve seen you in class,” Ladybug murmurs. “I was there in the courtroom. I can tell that you’re struggling.”

“Right,” Adrien mutters, turning away. His hand slips from her face. “Because I can’t handle anything.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It was implied.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Ladybug says, an edge creeping into her voice. “You’ve dealt with so much, and everyone has a limit.”

Adrien wants to argue, and say that Ladybug doesn’t have a limit—but she does. He’d seen it once, during the battle with Miracle Queen, when she nearly broke down in his arms beneath the Seine. And in that moment, he’d only been able to offer a few encouraging words and a hug, helpless as he watched his partner fall apart.

But even then, when everything seemed lost, they still had each other.

“You know,” Adrien says, “it kind of feels like everything’s been ruined.”

“That’s not—”

“Let me finish, my lady.” Adrien attempts a charming smile, and it must work, because Ladybug snorts and rolls her eyes. “I’ve spent most of my life modeling for my father, and now all of my work experience is tied to the supervillain who terrorized Paris. My last name is tied to him.”

“You could change it,” Ladybug says.

“To what?” Adrien asks.

Hers, the stupid, lovesick part of his brain answers.

“Oh, well, your…mother’s?” Ladybug says. “Or anything, really! Pick one randomly. Or the name of whoever you marry! I mean, there’s no rule saying you can’t do that!”

“Hm,” Adrien says. “I guess I’ll have to choose my spouse carefully. I wouldn’t want to end up with a bad last name.”

“I guess.”

Adrien hesitates, then says, “You have a nice last name. Maybe I should steal yours.”

“Ladybug doesn’t have a last name, chaton.”

“You know what I meant.” Adrien allows himself a smile. “But, well, I don’t think everything is ruined. My career, and my name, and all of my achievements, maybe—”

“That kind of sounds like everyth—”

“But not us,” Adrien says. Ladybug’s nose wrinkles, the way it does whenever she doesn’t get one of his jokes right away—a rare occurrence—and Adrien hastily adds, “I mean, our partnership. That’s the thing. I’m tired, and even being Chat Noir makes me feel guilty and a bit sick, but being with you…”

He clenches his jaw and frowns at the sky, where the last bit of fire has faded to icy evening. As Chat Noir, he has experience making declarations of love and trying to woo Ladybug—although he hasn’t done that in a while, not since collège. Still, he thought that honest words were his strength.

But trying to describe his bond with Ladybug, especially when he’s stripped of his mask and predator eyes…he’s not sure he knows how.

“I love you,” Adrien says, finally. “Not in any particular way, or—Marinette, I don’t mean to confess anything. It’s just…I care about you, and I think that might be the one thing I’m not angry about.”

Adrien doesn’t dare look at Ladybug once he’s said the words.

“You called me Marinette,” Ladybug says.

“What?” Adrien asks. “Oh. Right, sorry. I’ll try to be more careful. I guess I’d be a liability on the battlefield if I—you know, maybe you should take my Miraculous away, if—”

“No, no!” Ladybug rests her hand on Adrien’s thigh, and his skin tingles from her touch. “I just meant…you called me Marinette.”

At that, Adrien does look at her.

Her cheeks seem darker in the fading light, though maybe that’s just the evening shadows, growing longer and deeper as the sun disappears. And her eyes flick around Adrien’s face, as if they’re searching for something—but what, he doesn’t know.

“I did,” Adrien says. “Why? Did I…imagine the reveal? Are you actually someone else?” He squints at her. “Is this a prank? Oh, no. Tell me you’re not a shapeshifting supervillain who—”

“Camembert and macarons,” Ladybug says, eyes sparkling.

A sigh of relief gusts from Adrien’s lungs. It’s a shortcut phrase they’d coined a few days after the reveal, a password of sorts in case one of them ever suspects that the other might be an imposter.

They should be able to tell by now. And yet, they’ve made mistakes before, in the heat of battle, when they were most desperate to have one another by their side.

Hesitantly, Adrien intertwines his fingers with Ladybug’s hand on his lap. “And what’s my favorite?”

“Passion fruit,” she says.

An automatic grin stretches across Adrien’s face.

His lady knows his favorite macaron flavor. It’s a dumb, meaningless detail, but it’s personal, too. It’s the kind of thing that Ladybug and Chat Noir rarely discussed before they knew each other’s identities. When the reveal happened, and Adrien realized that Ladybug actually knew those mundane things about him—and cared about them, and remembered them—it was a lot easier to deal with the fallout.

Thinking back, the challenge wasn’t shock or awe. Adrien had suspected several times that Marinette might be Ladybug, and when he found out that he was right, he felt the same way he did whenever her glowing ladybugs swirled around him after a battle. Excited, giddy, relieved, but not really surprised.

The hard part was that he felt exposed. Every stupid question Adrien had ever asked Marinette, and every annoying joke Chat had ever told Ladybug—all those things were suddenly combined. Just a few seconds, a flash of light, and she’d known every single one of his flaws, and mistakes, and vulnerabilities.

He hadn’t been ready. In fact, he’s still not quite ready.

Moving slowly, carefully, Adrien wraps his arm around Ladybug’s shoulders and pulls her against his side. She sinks against him immediately, as if she’s been waiting for this, and her head lightly rests against his shoulder.

Adrien props his head against hers and closes his eyes. They’ve sat like this before; and yet, it’s never felt like this.

Eyes closed, Adrien forgets that the evening light has waned, night dampening the sun. It’s still sunset in his mind, safe and warm, because that’s how Ladybug makes him feel.

Ladybug. Marinette. His partner, his friend, the first girl he ever loved.

The girl he still loves.

“I think I’ll be okay,” Adrien murmurs.

Ladybug squeezes his hand. “I know you will be.”

“And I’m not leaving you,” Adrien says. “I’m never leaving you. I promise that.”

“Good,” Ladybug says. “Because I don’t want you to stop being my partner. I know I shouldn’t force you to stay, but if you tried to quit permanently, I’d fight for you.”

Adrien tilts his face and presses a kiss to Ladybug’s hair. It’s soft, smelling faintly of the sweet shampoo she uses. “I won’t. I always want to be by your side.” He hesitates, then adds, “Even when we’re not transformed.”

Ladybug turns to look up at him, and Adrien blinks at her, cheeks heating. “What do you mean?”

“Oh,” Adrien says. Despite the night chill, he feels like he’s starting to sweat. “Um, I mean, the way we’re Ladybug and Chat Noir, I’d…like us to be like that as Marinette and Adrien.”

“You don’t think that’s weird?” Ladybug asks.

“Weird?” Adrien says. “I don’t know. Is it that weird for Marinette and Adrien to be partners?”

“Partners doing what?” Ladybug smiles and bumps her shoulder against Adrien’s. “Marinette and Adrien don’t exactly have supervillains to fight.”

“Well, you know,” Adrien says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just…being together?”

Ladybug’s eyes fall to their joined hands. “That kind of sounds like you want to be with me.”

“Right,” Adrien says. “That’s what I said.”

“I mean, as Adrien and Marinette.”

“Yes.” Adrien squints at her. “Did I say something wrong?”

Ladybug puffs her cheeks and blows out air. It’s a familiar gesture, one Adrien has seen whenever she’s faced with an incomprehensible Lucky Charm. “Be with me how?”

“Um…just…with you?”

Blue eyes glance up, freezing Adrien in place. “I mean, do you want to date me?”

Adrien feels like he’s just tumbled off the tower. Mind blank, heart still, he stutters out, “D-do you?”

Ladybug’s lips curve into a smile. “Do I want to date myself?”

“Wait!” Adrien says, his brain catching up to the question. “No, I said this wasn’t a confession. You’ve already made it clear how you feel, and just because I’m Adrien, and you’re Marinette, that doesn’t mean things have changed, and—”

“Things have changed,” Ladybug says. “And…they could change more, if you wanted.” She smiles shyly, and her eyes dart away. It reminds Adrien of the beginning of their friendship, back when Marinette stuttered out greetings and quietly gave him little gifts.

“I’d like to date you,” Adrien admits. He tucks a strand of hair behind Ladybug’s ear, his fingers just barely brushing her earring. “But I want more than that, too. I’m afraid to sound greedy, though. I mean—”

“I want three kids and a hamster,” Ladybug blurts out.

Adrien frowns. “What?”

“With you,” Ladybug says, grimacing. “So! If you’re greedy, I, um—I’m pretty…ambitious, myself.”

“Well, I always knew my lady was ambitious,” Adrien says, with a laugh. Then the rest of Ladybug’s words sink in. “Wait, you—you want that with me? Does that mean you want to date me, then?”

Even as her face flushes, Ladybug rolls her eyes. “Isn’t that implied by the three kids and a hamster?”

“I mean, I don’t know,” Adrien says. “Maybe you just want me to be a sperm donor.”

“How do you explain the hamster, then?”

“Uh, you might…want me to be a hamster sugar daddy?”

Ladybug shoves him lightly. “Are you really this oblivious?”

“No, I, um—I guess you want to date me, probably.”

“Probably.”

Embarrassed, Adrien hunches his shoulders. “Okay, so maybe I’m a bit oblivious. I just—like I said before, everything is a mess, and so many things make me angry right now. It’s hard to believe I could have something that makes me happy.”

Ladybug blinks up at him, her dark eyelashes flitting across her eyes. The sight reminds Adrien of tiny birds darting in front of the moon. “I make you happy?”

“Was that ever a question?” Adrien asks. Feeling emboldened, he cups Ladybug’s face in his hands. “I told you before, I’ve always been happiest when I’m with you. That’s true with or without the masks.”

“I’m sorry about your father,” Ladybug says. “I’m sorry that I can’t do more. I hate seeing a problem I can’t solve.”

Adrien wraps her up in a hug, cradling her head against his chest. “It’s okay,” he says. “I have to figure out a lot of this by myself. But having you by my side makes it easier. We’re stronger together, and you make me feel like…like I can believe in myself.” He squeezes her gently. “I haven’t really felt that way, lately.”

“I feel the same,” Ladybug murmurs.

Adrien’s heart thumps in his chest as she wraps her arms around him. The same. Does that mean she loves him, too?

“I’ve never been able to say it, you know,” Ladybug says, her head still tucked beneath Adrien’s chin. “Even now, when I know I should say the words—I just can’t. It feels useless. You must hear that from hundreds of fans every day! How would it be any different if I said it?”

“Surely you know the answer to that,” Adrien says. “Marinette, you’re precious to me. Your words matter more than theirs.”

“I guess I have hard time believing I could be that special to you.”

“Hm,” Adrien says. “Maybe you’re not a clever bug, after all.”

“Hey!” Ladybug says, jerking back. “At least I didn’t throw my Miraculous off the Eiffel Tower.”

“I was at a low point,” Adrien grumbles.

“Still?”

“No,” Adrien says. He smiles and taps Ladybug’s nose, prompting a giggle from her. “I feel a lot better now. I’ll probably still get mad about stuff later, but…like I said, I’m stronger with you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ladybug says. “Whatever you’re doing, I’ll be by your side.”

“I’m glad,” Adrien says. “Now, about my Mir—”

Ladybug stops him by slapping a hand over his lips, and Adrien frowns, cross-eyed as he stares down at her hand.

“Oops!” Ladybug says, pulling her hand away. “I—did that hurt?”

Adrien wriggles his lips. “If I say yes, are you going to kiss it better?”

“No, I was just—what!” Ladybug gasps and puts her hands on her hips. “You know, I have half a mind to let you follow your Miraculous down there.”

Gulping, Adrien cranes his head to look at the ground below. He’s normally not afraid of heights—but then, he’s never been detransformed on the Eiffel Tower while his usual savior threatens to toss him off it. “Let’s forget I said that,” Adrien says. “Um, what were you going to say?”

Ladybug’s lip juts out in a pout. “I was…going to ask to kiss you.”

“Oh.” Adrien wonders if it’s somehow gone from night to day again, because it feels like his entire body is burning. “Um. You want to kiss me?”

Ladybug doesn’t say anything, but the flat look she gives him says, What do you think, genius?

“Right,” Adrien says. “So…can I kiss you?”

With a huff, Ladybug grabs his face and tugs his lips against hers.

Adrien’s eyes flutter shut, his body going weak from her touch. Ladybug’s fingers stroke featherlight against his cheek, and her lips are just as gentle—so light, in fact, that he thinks he might be imagining the kiss.

When she pulls away, though, Adrien is dizzy and feels like he’s flying, and there are only a few ways to explain that feeling.

Ladybug smiles softly, and Adrien finds himself grinning back. If Plagg were here right now, he’d probably mock Adrien for the lovestruck look on his face.

“So,” Ladybug says.

“Are we falling?” Adrien says.

“That was—wait, what?” Ladybug says. “No?”

“Is the Eiffel Tower spinning?”

“No.” Ladybug brushes Adrien’s bangs away from his forehead. “Are you feeling sick?”

“Not at all. Just ruling out the alternatives.” Adrien leans forward so that his forehead is pressed against hers. “That means we just kissed, then.”

Ladybug laughs, her mask scrunched beneath her eyes. “What did you think just happened?”

“I don’t know.” Adrien brushes his nose against hers. “Remind me?”

She snorts. “I guess you are feeling better.”

Adrien pouts and bats his eyes at her. It’s a finely honed technique, one that has earned him many a macaron from her purse. “One more kiss, my lady?”

“Really?”

Adrien winks. “I told you I’m greedy.”

“It’s a good thing I’m generous,” Ladybug says.

She tilts her head forward and presses her lips against Adrien’s again. This time, he cradles her head as they kiss, his fingers toying with one of the ribbons in her hair. And he realizes that although her touch is light, it’s not tentative—it’s careful, precise, as if she’s mapping out how he feels beneath her lips.

When they break away, Adrien whispers, “You’re amazing.”

Ladybug’s fingers trace Adrien’s jaw. “So are you.” She clears her throat. “Now, I should probably go down and get your Miraculous. Do you know where it went?”

“I think Plagg caught it,” Adrien says. “Take me with you. I need to apologize to him, and I can help you look.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Ladybug says. “If people notice you down there, with me…”

“Oh.” Adrien sighs. “Right.”

Ladybug pecks him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, minou. I’m still by your side, even if I’m down there.”

Adrien smiles. “Don’t make me wait too long.”

“So bossy,” she says. “Should you really be making demands when I’m doing you a favor?”

“Fine,” Adrien says. “You don’t have to get my Miraculous, but that means you’ll need to stay by my side all night. I’m weak and defenseless without you or Plagg.”

Ladybug squints at him, no doubt thinking of all the times he’s saved her from akumas when he wasn’t transformed. “Is that so?”

“That’s right. A real damsel in distress.”

“I doubt that.”

After planting a quick kiss on the corner of Adrien’s mouth, Ladybug throws her yo-yo and swings to the ground below. Smiling, Adrien watches her tiny red form weave among citizens, knowing that she’ll be back soon.

At least, he hopes she comes back soon. He’s just now realizing that the Eiffel Tower doesn’t make for very comfortable sitting.

Even now that Ladybug has left, though, the warmth she stirred in Adrien’s heart isn’t gone. It’s still there, pulsing and glowing as the night settles in. He’s not alone, as long as he has her. He could never be alone.

Smiling, Adrien closes his eyes and thanks the invisible stars for his partner.

#ladrienjune #ladrien june 2020 #ladrien #ml fic #ml fanfiction #my fic #miraculous ladybug

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