#I can’t give an estimated release date yet but it’s coming along nicely

[odessastone]

Chapter 9 of The Light You Deserve is being edited, it’s happening, and it’s over 10k words long so BE READY

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – chap. 3.

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 29th July 2021

Word count: 4 219

Warnings: none

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi–kpop–fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @devotedexolnhottest @mingxia-nikki04 @velvetjongin @ssssssul (won't let me tag you T_T) @nemi-mei @buttercupbbh

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you’re shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Chap. 2.)

Chap. 3.

The tension that appeared the moment you received the phone call from Baekhyun did not dissolve with time. In fact, the opposite happened – it grew as the time passed, and as Saturday came closer and closer. Finally, once your Friday to Saturday night shift came to an end and you stumbled into your flat around 4 in the morning, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep easily. Yet, you forced a whole cup of green tea into yourself in an attempt to soothe your nerves before sleep. Your alarm was set for noon, and you were supposed to meet at 3 PM.

You woke up feeling energized, but you knew this pattern all too well already – the tiredness would come and hit you with its whole power the day after, and you’d spend Sunday sluggish and drained. But that was okay, because Sunday didn’t matter half as much as Saturday did.

You felt a small urge to dress up; even more, actually, you felt a need to pay attention to details rather than looking fine at the first glance. Some common sense hyped up by years of watching other people and reading stories – a thorough shower, shaving, paying attention to not only what you wore outside, but also your undergarments. You lacked things that could be considered “sexy”, but – let’s face it – you didn’t think it mattered much; not after what you’d found out so far. Yet, it would be a shame if your panties had a hole in them. Wearing something neutral, but fresh was your best bet. Every few minutes, you kept reminding yourself – you don’t even know what will happen, you don’t even know if anything will happen at all. There was no reason to think that he’ll want you to undress in the first place, you said it yourself that you’re not ready for sex.

But then, it still helped you gather confidence that you definitely needed at a moment like that. Details allowed one less thing to worry about, and a better ability to focus on others, and so, you made sure the details were worked out well, and that you didn’t overdress, either; a beige shirt and jeans, all wrapped up with sneakers and another knitted cardigan of yours – neutral and polite, maybe a bit school-ish, but these were the things you mostly wore on daily basis, and you felt that going in the other direction – of tight pants, mini-skirts and see-through shirts – would not be appreciated. Your hair was pulled up into a loose bun, nothing like the ones you admired in YT tutorials, but the best you could do on your own. Maybe it was the age difference that made you feel obliged to show respect rather than expose yourself. You trusted your instinct on that, and so far, nothing happened yet to prove it wrong. The weather was starting to get warmer; these days were particularly sunny and dry, so you felt at ease without an extra jacket. It couldn’t get that bad in the evening, and you put faith in your cardigan.

Baekhyun must have thought similarly.

You stood in the bar’s entry, looking up at him for a moment; he leaned back into his usual couch, not aware of your presence just yet. He was wearing a black button-up and jeans as well, something he still looked pretty well put-together in, but not too formal – similar to your own thought process, noticeably.

You inhaled deeply, and took your time to exhale the air – until you felt ready to walk up to him.

“Hi there” he spoke as you approached his couch; as expected, he was there alone today.

“Hi there” you replied with a slight nod and a smile; your voice was quiet, as quiet as it could be without trembling in anticipation.

“You want to drink something before we go?”

You considered it for a second, and then nodded again. Baekhyun moved a bit to the side, encouraging you to join him on the couch, and you took the offer with gratitude.

“Beer? I don’t want to get you drunk, but we may sit here for a bit just to relax.”

“You can tell I need it?”

“Yes. I can tell. Your shoulders are very tense. May I?”

His hand reached to your shoulder and you nodded slightly, a bit unsure what you agreed to just yet.

He suddenly squeezed your muscle, and you whimpered. He kneaded it, and you found the tension dissolving gradually as he went on. Even with only one hand and unfavorable position, he managed to find some of the spots that required touch; that touch was welcome, slight pain coming along with it was desired for the best outcome. You didn’t notice when Baekhyun must have given the bartender some sort of a sign, but the man soon came with a beer and water that he put on the nearby table. That was when Baekhyun’s movement slowly ceased, cautiously letting go of your shoulders. You felt as if you were in a different body, the tension in your body almost gone, just as the one in your mind – the moments of physical interaction were enough to chase some of your worries away.

“You don’t drink?” You reached towards the table – it was closer to you than to him – and took the two glasses, handing him the water and keeping the beer for yourself.

“Not before,” he explained curtly, which you accepted without further questioning.

“So… what are we gonna do?” you asked carefully, sipping the beer through a metal straw, trying to give off a casual vibe despite focusing deeply on what you were about to hear.

“Depends. On how much will you allow me to do.” Baekhyun focused his gaze on something in the crowd; you felt as though it was his habit to avoid a direct gaze in an attempt to sound collected. “I had the idea of showing you some things. Just so you feel it out a little. It’s not final, but it may help the both of us figure out how we feel about it. Like a free trial, you see my point?” You nodded, but didn’t say anything, so after a moment he continued. “I won’t introduce you to everything, and it won’t last as long as usual sessions, either. I’ll talk to you a bit beforehand so we figure out some basic things. It shouldn’t make you uncomfortable. I won’t be trying anything beyond your comfort zone.”

“So, no deals a’la Fifty shades?” you felt silly the moment these words left your mouth. Baekhyun laughed awkwardly.

“No, it won’t be necessary. If you want to draw a comparison to that, I definitely won’t be dumping the whole scheme on you when you don’t even know what it’s like.”

And you won’t fuck me first thing in the plot, you added in your thoughts.

“There are a few things that I may ask you here, so that we have those out of the way,” he spoke; his tone lowered a little. “I need you to tell me if you have any illnesses or old injures that could influence your physical capacity.”

You thought for a bit; the answer was important, but you couldn’t recall much.

“I don’t think there’s anything important.”

“Is there anything unimportant?” His gaze pierced through you as he caught on your wording.

“Uh… I’m taking pills for my thyroid, but it’s nothing very dramatic” you explained. “Nothing else that I know of.”

Baekhyun nodded slowly.

“Fair. Next question, is there anything you’re particularly scared of? Phobias, or things you’re scared of in general, anything overly triggering that you want to avoid at all costs?” You already revealed some of these during your first conversation. But now you felt more at ease, and you thought you could be more detailed without sounding overwhelming.

“I’m… scared of fire. And hate my hair being pulled. I don’t know, why. I can’t explain it. It’s just…”

“It’s alright. You don’t need to explain yourself to me” Baekhyun looked at you with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “You sound like it would stress you out to share. You don’t need to be afraid of that. You don’t owe me anything, keep that in mind. It’s not supposed to feel like an obligation.”

“I-I know.”

“I’m scared of heights, by the way.” You stared at him in confusion. “Hm? Just thought it’s fair to share if you did.”

“Oh.”

“Chill out.” He nudged your glass with his hand to urge you to drink some more of the beer you managed to forget about by then. It was halfway through – you didn’t want to leave the glass with some of it still inside, although it managed to make you feel just a bit sick already.

His own drink was at around the same level too, and as you finished yours, he drank the remaining water in one go as well.

You weren’t the best at handling alcohol, and even the small amounts made you a bit weak in the knees. But you felt sober enough as the two of you finally got up; Baekhyun paid for your drinks and you left the bar.

The weather was nice, as expected. Going out into the sunlight again startled you, somehow; you felt as though a lot of time had already passed. But no, it was still the same afternoon.

It was true that Baekhyun lived nearby. His apartment was in a different direction than your place, though, and you estimated it would take around twenty minutes to get from one place to the other. You knew this area, although not too well – there were only some tenement houses, but no stores or academic buildings that could gain your attention or regular presence. It was on the more expensive side, although not a place a well off office worker wouldn’t afford; just maybe not suitable for a student. The tenement houses were old, but well-kept, and you knew that the apartments were way bigger than in a place like yours.

Opening the door for you, Baekhyun invited you into the dark hallway of his apartment. There were no lights, as every wall had doors to other rooms: two to the left, one at the end of the corridor, and two more to the right, perfectly symmetric.

“Kitchen, my office, bathroom, my bedroom, and the living room,” the man told you, starting from the left. One glance into the living room on the right made you realize just how big the rooms were; enormous, in your honest opinion, with the area of something around a classroom at school, but with ceilings that reached far up, almost twice higher than in your own place. Heavy curtains hung from the top of the tall windows like limp branches of a willow tree, giving the most dramatic effect, and – likely – gathering tons of dust throughout their lifetime. Wooden, carved furniture added to the effect, and you, in all your sincerity, would not dare to ask how much such a set cost, although it would be a lie to say that you weren’t curious. Wooden panels on the floor were already worn and grey, giving you a thought that the interiors were kept in this particular shape for long years before Baekhyun began to reside in there.

“That’s huge,” you only uttered. Your eyes rested on a painting in the middle of a wall on the left side of the room, above an eclectic-green, velvet couch, in front of which was a wooden coffee table, and which gave a perfect sight into an old TV on the side of the room, as it was one of the old-styled, small models that would be hard to look at from the distance between one wall and the other. The painting looked old, but you wondered from the distance, whether it was not just printed in good quality, with all the details of lights, people and nature making it look like a piece of national heritage rather than a small private property. It portrayed a battle scene coming to an end, warriors in shining armor stained with blood resting upon trees and a small pond of pinkish water, at either sunset or sunrise – you weren’t sure.

“You like it?” He caught your stare and followed it, giving himself a few seconds to adore the painting as well, as though he hadn’t looked at it enough despite living here.

“It’s too violent,” you decided after a moment. “But it’s nice to look at.”

“It’s not that violent in itself, I think. But it does conjure the thought of it.”

He left the living room with you still in the doorframe, staying to look at the painting just for a few more seconds. When you turned around, he was entering the kitchen – this room also looked old, but less well kept; it was cleaned up perfectly, however the furniture was shabby, with the surfaces often partly rubbed off and grey; this room simply screamed for renovation. But you felt way more at ease with the fact that it looked similar to yours – the one that was over twenty years old when you moved with and you had no way of changing it without getting in trouble with the landlord. And not like you’d want to do it at all, since you’d move out right after your studies anyway. The only difference was that you tried to make your apartment look a bit warmer with colorful lights and other cheap ornaments here and there, while Baekhyun’s kitchen was just left as it was, as though he gave up on it the moment he moved in.

“Hungry?”

“Not much.” You were still full of the freshly consumed beer.

Out of the fridge, Baekhyun took a bag of half-eaten potato chips. You stared at him with your eyebrow raised as he ate a few of these, and then extended the bag towards you, to which you only shook your head and he put the bag back in the fridge. He caught your look.

“Food moths,” he explained. You slowly nodded in understanding. That’d be a useful tip if you ever got those. The summer was slowly coming; soon, your small apartment would also be filled with bugs, and fruit flies, mosquitos, and sciarids because you kept a few plants in (discovering that sciarids and fruit flies were not the same thing was an important step in achieving perfect harmony in your adulthood).

You sat awkwardly by the table, observing him as he reached for the bag he must have left on the counter before he went to pick you up, and took out leftovers – probably from work – putting them back in the fridge.

“You worked today?” you asked.

“Yeah, just an average thing, a strategic meeting with co-workers. My working hours are not regular, so I didn’t really know I was gonna be out today.”

Once he was done, he sat by the table as well, and you leaned a bit forward, resting your chin on top of your hand.

“You could have postponed it with me, you must be tired,” you said.

“Don’t worry, I’d rather have a chance to relax with you.”

That didn’t sound as innocent as he probably tried to make it, and he looked over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t scare you with the choice of words. You only laughed awkwardly.

“Anyway. Since, as I said, I don’t want to intimidate you, I think we’ll stay in the living room since you seemed content with that,” he spoke casually.

“So, no playroom?” you uttered. Baekhyun choked on the chip in his mouth.

“I don’t own such a place. I just usually use the bedroom. Or the bathroom,” he explained.

“Or the office?” you felt bold enough to suggest, giving him a small smirk.

“No, I assure you the office is for what offices usually are.”

You smiled innocently as Baekhyun stared at you, probably trying to mask sudden shyness.

“Either way,” he cleared his throat. “I told you some about what I want to do, but you haven’t told me if there’s anything you’re interested in trying out. I assume you did see some things, so… Is there anything that you’ve been particularly interested in?”

The harmless way in which he phrased the question absolutely didn’t change the fact that he was, basically, asking what kind of porn you watch.

“I uh… I like watching different things, just out of curiosity, but I’m not really sure if there’s anything I like particularly more than other things… I suppose bondage is the biggest basic.” You tried, you really tried to sound neutral, but your voice trembled a little. “But I’m not really sure, to be honest. I’m quite open-minded, I suppose…” You felt silly; how could you not be able to answer the most basic question – what do you like? But Baekhyun seemed to understand that very well, as he only nodded slowly.

“What about, let’s say, pet play?” You blushed slightly. “You know what I’m talking about? I feel like a lot of young women start from there.” It took you a moment to realize that you, too, were a young woman. “Behavioral training. Humiliation. Regression. A bit of pain, if suitable. Trying out a few things to see how you respond. What do you think?”

“I think it may be fun” you said slowly. “Does it have something to do with the…?” you motioned your neck, hoping he’ll get the cue. You remembered the collars the other people wore – they were the main reason you got interested in the first place, after all. Baekhyun smiled, catching on your observation.

“Sometimes, but not necessarily. It’s just a thing I like. Do you?”

“…I may,” you answered carefully.

“Gotcha. We may try it out. You know, everyone is different. The collars are different too. I usually order them after I’m sure the person’s gonna stay, and when I know what type will be the most suitable for them. I can’t do that for you yet, but I have some spare items.”

“Do you have the ones of people who you’re not with anymore?” you asked, out of pure curiosity.

Baekhyun was silent for a moment.

“I do. But I’d rather not use them. They’re there for memory, not for use.”

“Gotcha. I was just curious,” you quickly explained.

“Do you have a safe-word?” Baekhyun’s gaze rested on you.

“…Not really. Never needed one,” you uttered sheepishly.

“You have anything on your mind?”

“Um, the… thing with lights? The red light, yellow and green?” you proposed carefully.

“That’s a good one. Tell me how you understand them.”

“So, the green one means everything’s alright, the yellow is when we need to slow down, and the red stops the scene,” you recited, as if you were reading from a book.

“That’s right. It’s easy to remember, so we can go with that.” You bit on your lips to prevent yourself from getting too excited with the apparent praise; it wasn’t anything big, of course – but you felt as though it was a praise in itself, being acknowledged for saying something right. “Another thing is that I need you to know a few rules, before we start.” You were all ears. “First, I don’t want you to be reluctant for the fun of it. Whether you want to be a brat later or not, today we’re just trying things out and I don’t want to mistake your attitude with actual discomfort, do you understand?” You nodded slowly, memorizing the words and waiting for him to continue. “Second. No pain that I will impose on you will be a matter of punishment, unless I specify so. If you don’t enjoy it, you need to tell me so. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop right away, unless – of course – you use the safe-word. However, I still expect honesty. During, as well as after the scene, when we review it. Do you understand?” The breaks in between the points gave you enough time to acknowledge the information and encode it in your memory. You nodded once again. “And for the last. Do you trust me?”

The tone made you look up at him, finally focusing on his person rather than the words alone.

“I do,” you finally decided; knowing very well what this answer would lead to.

Baekhyun’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at you warmly.

“Well then, shall we start?”

* * *

You stand in the middle of the room, the cardigan and shoes are off, your feet feel cold against the floor despite socks wrapped around them comfortingly.

Don’t move a finger, you’ve been told, and so, you stare at the painting before you, the warrior in the front staring at you back with contempt you haven’t noticed before.

Your breath trembles in anticipation as you try to hear sounds from other rooms – you do hear some shuffling, but nothing that you can figure out for sure. He must be in his bedroom, you think. What is he preparing? Which tools out of many that you’ve seen on the screen of your phone all these nights that, despite spending perfect eight hours in bed, did not end in getting perfect eight hours of sleep?

Your arm itches, but you fight the urge to scratch it; be obedient, he said.

Steps echo in the corridor and you hold your breath. Your head snaps to the side the moment you hear him enter the room again.

“Eyes down,” he commands without sparing you a glance; you haven’t had enough time to see what he brought, but you instantly obey his words. “Don’t look at me unless I allow you to.” His voice is stern, and it makes your stomach clench nervously. But it’s not a bad sensation, not at all – you grow excited. “Down. On your knees.”

You try to comply, but he still scoffs at your apparent sluggishness. You almost fall over as you let your knees bend and you finally kneel down as well as you can, eyes facing down as well, although you feel awkward as you do so.

“On your toes,” Baekhyun commands; something small but hard hits your heels, startling you, and your head whips around to see a wooden pointing stick. You swallow the gasp of surprise at the sight.

You fix your posture, your toes instantly begin to cramp; that’s uncomfortable, and your toes aren’t too flexible, it seems.

“Straighten your back. You’re slouching.”

The task turns out almost impossible to do, the whole weight lands on your toes and you frown in discomfort.

“Is it necessary…?”

“Look at me.” It feels unnatural to do so now, but you oblige, turning your head to the side where he stands. “What’s wrong?”

“My toes hurt,” you admit quietly. Baekhyun watches you for a moment.

“Straighten them. Kneel as you did before.” You bite your lips and nod, uttering a small thank you that you find suitable enough as the position gets a bit more comfortable. “Back. Straighten.”

You automatically snap back into the position. But it does feel a bit silly – like something your teachers would say, don’t slouch! A laughter comes out at the comparison, but you attempt to stifle it.

Apparently, not well enough.

The pointer hits the nape of your neck; not too hard, but the message gets through.

Baekhyun stands in front of you and, most likely, stares you down – you can’t tell; your gaze is fixated on his lacquered shoes. The shoes then move, kicking the middle of your thighs.

“Spread.”

You feel a bit awkward as you oblige this command; you only glance down to make sure your pants aren’t ripped – you never know. To your relief, they’re not. Then you try to glance forward – but, what’s in front of you, makes you more shy than anything, so you just fix your gaze on his knees instead.

“You’re slouching again.”

“Pets often do,” you note before you manage to bite your tongue; you do remember your conversation from before – wasn’t it what he was aiming for? You thought so at first. But the words were not thought through at all; you just felt a need to say something, anything, just like you’d talk back to a teacher when they became too annoying in their remarks.

You hold your breath as Baekhyun crouches down to your level.

You feel his eyes on you, and you unwittingly tremble under his gaze, forcing yourself to look even lower, not daring to break the rule. The seconds seem to last hours as he doesn’t speak a word – and he doesn’t have to. You feel intimidated.

“You want to be a pet?”

He stands up; he’s right in front of you, if you so much as leaned forward a little bit, your forehead would touch his thigh. You slightly crave the touch; but not enough to move, not when you grow petrified. The question is rhetorical. You wait for him to finish the thought.

“Then I’ll treat you like one.”

Without waiting for your reaction, he steps behind you. You hear shuffling in what had to be a box placed behind your back; you see nothing.

But you hear the harsh, recognizable clink of metal and your stomach drops.

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!

Author's note: Hello, have you missed me??? I'm sorry it took so long to upload, it's hard to find time among exams I had in June, and now my (first) new job! The next chapter is already being written, so hopefully, won't take that long. Remember to reblog if you liked, and I'll be really happy to hear what you have to say about this so far. Stay safe!

Next (Chapter 4.)

[floralseokjin]

;glazed & dazed (m) COMING SOON

Vanilla, that’s what you do best as one of the industry’s most loved stars. Only you want a change. Taking the plunge to taint your pure image, knowing so many fans would love to see it sullied, even if just for one movie. 

There’s only one man for the job in your eyes. One you’ve always admired from afar, and the only one who’s perfect enough to take your innocence in the most fitting way. Seokjin Kim. Even more famous than you; a pro, a veteran, and someone you can’t wait to give your all for. Together you will be unstoppable.

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  genre; pornstar au, pornstar! seokjin, pornstar! reader, explicit smut, romance, some angst bc it’s me!  estimated words; 30k

(!) warnings to be confirmed 

RELEASE DATE;  AUGUST 4TH 9PM BST

T E A S E R  (2.4k) 

Glazed and Dazed: Good Girl Gone Bad XXX 

Porn’s most loved good girl like you’ve never seen her before... Devoured by Porn’s most filthy leading man...  Buckle up everyone, you’re in for a (sweet) treat... 

To get hired, there’s just one simple motto to remember: “The magic is always in the hole.” 

・◦・◦・◦・◦・◦・◦・◦・◦・◦・◦・◦・◦・◦・◦・◦・◦・◦・

The day of the dinner came around quickly and you were oddly nervous. You had made it very clear how you wanted this to be a personal, independent job, that you wanted to spend significant time discussing and storyboarding the movie yourself, so of course you were thrilled he understood that and wanted to meet up. You just hadn’t expected the one on one just yet. Usually these things were discussed between manager and manager, not adult star and adult star. The only interaction you’d have was when you met up to shoot. This way was a lot more nerve wracking. 

Despite being the complete opposite, it almost felt like you were getting ready for a first date. Not that you could remembered such a feeling. It had been a long time since you’d dated anyone, so long ago that you often wondered if you’d ever get the chance again. Dating and relationships seemed like something your future would never hold at this point, and somewhere along the line you’d become okay with that… 

Still, you could faintly remember the nervous buzz a first date bought and that’s what you were feeling right now as you applied your mascara in the mirror. These nerves were something else entirely though, of course. You were going to discuss sex. You were going to try and convince this man to make a movie with you. It was a pretty terrifying thought. You’d grown confident over the years, but this was a totally brand new situation. 

Irene had text you the location of the restaurant this morning, Seokjin in charge of the reservation, and had warned you to dress fancy. This place was no Cheesecake Factory google soon informed you. You hadn’t worn a dress in months, and that had only come about because you were forced to attend the AIA’s; a tacky award ceremony filled with mostly vulture like men hiding behind a professional title. You were beginning to realise your distaste for the industry had always been there, in the back of your head, it was only lately that it had made itself louder…

You took an Uber there, hardly flashy but that had never been you, so why change now? You would’ve driven yourself but you’d probably need a glass (read: bottle) of wine during dinner just for some Dutch courage, even if it was a bad idea. You attempted sophistication when you made your way to the reception area, beginning to regret the size of your heels halfway there, and relayed Seokjin’s surname to the host, clutching your purse uneasily. What if he wasn’t here? What if he wasn’t coming at all? They were dumb fears but they were still there. However, they soon disappeared when the host smiled and nodded, calling a female colleague over to lead you to your table. You didn’t miss the way his eyes glazed over you a little longer than they should though, the faint look of recognition on his features. He was wondering how he knew you. It no longer fazed you, you got that surprisingly a lot. It was just one of those things. This man had watched you get fucked…and maybe he’d watch you get fucked by Seokjin soon enough… 

Your table was in another room, cut off from the busier main area. It held a few tables but tonight it was just Seokjin and you. He sat waiting for you at the furthest table and he stood once you entered. Your waiter turned to leave, telling you to ring the bell when you were ready to order and you thanked her, Seokjin joining you. And then you were alone. 

You stood in the entrance way like someone lost. You had not expected this to be so intimate. You had expected other customers eating around you, not just you and he alone. Light music played from the speakers, the only thing filling the silence until Seokjin smiled, stepping forward, around the table to greet you. “Good Evening.” 

“Evening.” You found yourself easing immediately, smiling back. It was hard not to upon hearing his voice. It was so gentle, so polite. The complete opposite of his on camera persona. The filth that flew from his mouth was unholy. Here, he looked like every mothers’ dream son in law. 

There were a few details you’d forgotten to offer up regarding Seokjin, which seemed absurd because it was the first thing anyone noticed. He was ridiculously handsome. Like out of this world handsome. Drop dead gorgeous most would say. Enough to make any woman or man weak at the knees while in his presence. Or maybe that was just you right now. You walked forward, desperate to sit down. 

“Oh, let me hang up your coat,” Seokjin offered, and you stopped, lowering the black textile off your bare shoulders. This room was comfortably warm, now all you had to worry about was breaking out into a sweat. He handled the garment with care, attaching it to one of the bronze hooks beside the entrance door while you took a seat, tucking yourself in discreetly. 

You definitely didn’t have to worry about over dressing tonight. Seokjin was in a black two piece suit, the jacket sinfully figure hugging, stretched over his broad shoulders, the dress shirt underneath crisp and white, loose at the neck. His hair was parted to the side, his usual style, black locks sleek. He was a distinguished man. Somehow soft yet angular. It just depended what way the light caught him, and age had been kind to him. He wasn’t much older than you, perhaps five years or so, but he didn’t look a day past 25. 

The strong arch of his eyebrows almost made you feel intimidated as he made his way back to the table and sat in front of you, so much so, you had to look away from his gaze, spotting a glass of iced mineral water already waiting for you. You picked it up and sipped, wetting your dry throat. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know what you drunk else I would have ordered something a little stronger to start off with,” he apologised with another smile. 

“That’s okay,” you reassured. 

“Here, take the drinks menu. There’s plenty to choose from.” 

“Thanks.” You took it from him, catching his eyes as you did so and he chuckled.

“Sorry, I’m acting weird. I’m nervous.” Your eyes widened a little in surprise. He was nervous? Not going to lie, that made you feel a lot better. “It’s really nice to meet you.” He continued, laughing louder this time. “I’m honestly pretty awestruck.” 

You nearly snorted. You were the only one allowed to be awestruck, surely? You shooed him away with a hand. “Please. Shouldn’t I be the one lost for words? The man, the legend.” 

“That’s just nonsense.” You were both laughing now, embarrassing one another. The apples of his cheeks were tinged pink, a reaction you hadn’t been expecting from a man like him, and you lifted your hand up to your face just to check how hot you were, wondering if you were blushing too. 

“No, honestly. I’m a fan of your work,” he told you earnestly. You must have looked unconvinced because he chuckled again. “Don’t look so dubious. Can’t take a compliment!?” 

“Actually, that’s never been a strong point of mine,” you admitted. Plus, it seemed pretty crazy that The Seokjin Kim was a fan of what you made. You were polar opposites. Wasn’t your stuff way too tame for him? 

“So, do you have any questions?” You asked, puzzling how you should start this discussion, wanting to divert the attention from you. This was all new to you, and you were trying to fight through your awkwardness. 

He smiled. “Let’s order first. Get to know one another a little.” You watched him pick up the main menu that laid next to him. “I want you to be comfortable. I don’t want you to think of this as a business deal, more so, hm…” He paused to search for the right words, smile turning into a grin when they came to him, “an agreement between friends.”

You dipped your head, smiling coyly. It was hard not to agree with that. 

“Now, any thoughts on that drink?” He prompted. 

You spent half the dinner getting to know one another, nerves slowly depleting as you laughed and joked. Despite hearing all these good thing about Seokjin, nothing could prepare you for how truly well-spoken and well-mannered he was. He was charming but definitely not with intent.  He was easy to be around, a warming presence. You spoke about mindless things really, hobbies, favourite tv shows, books you were currently reading. If anyone could see you, they’d think you were on a first date. In reality you were here to discuss the deal of a lifetime. 

You were halfway through the main course when Seokjin brought it up again, intrigued and impressed that you were determined to take the reins with this project. You had made sure his agency was aware of that. How much work would go into the discussing and creating of this movie. How close you would work together, and how you were willing to do just about anything. You had chosen Seokjin because of this. He was known in the scene for being extremely professional and respectful. To both the actresses and staff, and you had kept that all in mind, and on top of that, he had been in this industry for over a decade. He knew how things worked, and despite not knowing him personally, there was a trust there when it came to that. You looked up to him. 

You thought about telling him all this, but it just seemed all too official. You were embarrassed. Would he think that you were being over the top? Over stepping boundaries? However despite you reluctance to open up, he seemed more than excited about this offer, which surprised you. In the greatest of honesty, you hadn’t even expected to get this far, predicting an email where his agency declined the offer, not that of a dinner invitation with the man himself. 

“I have to say though, I’m surprised it’s me you want,” he admitted almost, what was that…bashfully? 

You watched him over the rim of your wine glass, taking a sip before you replied. He hadn’t consumed any alcohol tonight, driving here himself, so you were actually still on your first and only drink, in fear of overdoing it and making a fool of yourself. You didn’t drink often so you were a bit of a lightweight. 

“You were the only choice.” 

You could hear your heart beating against your ribcage, but thought what the hell? Why were you so scared to let him know how much you wanted him to be your co-star? He was perfect for the job and you knew you’d be great together. You told him just as much. 

“Well,” he gobsmacked, chuckling lowly. “I’m truly speechless right now. Incredibly flattered, but speechless.”

You dropped your head. “I know I’m not what you’re used to but this is my chance for some change. I truly want this, and it would be just as much your project as it is mine,” you reassured. You’d gladly let him take charge. You had so much to learn from him. 

He smiled your way, and you took a shaky breath, needing to know his answer. “So what do you say?” 

He paused, smile widening. “I say it sounds fun. I’m in.” 

“Really?” You almost gasped, too excited to hide your reaction. Relief flooded over you. 

“I think it would be great. Honestly, shooting anything with you would be an honour. You never know,” he laughed, “maybe it’s time I had a shakeup too. I can pull off softcore, right?” 

You burst out laughing, realising how unflattering it might look at the last second and shot your hand up to your mouth in a bid to stop yourself, but he laughed freely, not caring what you thought. He had a cute laugh, almost dorky, despite his untouchable appearance.  

“You could pull off anything.”

“So could you,” he told you, turning serious, the genuineness in his voice making you shift in your seat awkwardly. “Trust me, I don’t have some crazy expectations when it comes to the women I work with. I think you’re amazing and I would be honoured to work with you. I’m honoured that you thought of me, and…” He trailed off, hesitating. “Actually, I think I should let you know something…”

You raised your eyebrows, curious, and unable to guess what he wanted to disclose. You waited patiently. 

“I’m going to be retiring soon.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Y-You’re what?” That you had not been expecting. 

Seokjin was the it man in porn. You could never imagine him leaving the industry. Men often had it easier like that. Not that they didn’t have struggles, not that you didn’t hear stories, but when it came to longevity, it was easy being a man in porn. Women had a sell by date. In fact, at 27 you were probably near pushing it yourself. Only a certain few kept their fame for decades, and then they were boxed in, stuck doing the same type of movie over and over. The thought made you suddenly bitter. You didn’t want to be boxed in. 

“It’s my time. I’ve been here far too long,” he shrugged. Mood dropping, you looked across at him sadly. You felt funny, couldn’t put your finger on it. “But can you keep it quiet?” He asked. “It’s something I’ve been discussing with my agency. I don’t know when it’ll happen yet, but I thought you should know.” 

You nodded, feeling a little wooden from the shock, but you quickly forced yourself to smile. “Secret’s safe with me. Honest.” He didn’t even have to tell you, but you appreciated it. Didn’t really understand why he had in the first place. 

“Secret,” he repeated, amused. “It’s funny, right? Usually something like this would benefit the both of us, help sustain our careers, but I’m calling time and you’re,” he paused, watching you carefully as he continued. “I guess you want a change in direction?”  

A Change in direction? Did you want that? You didn’t know what you wanted. In a way you were lost, not bored. He was still watching you, as if searching for some kind of reaction. Some kind of answer. 

“Fucking me will change everything, you know,” he told you finally with a tilt of his head. “But I think that’s what you want, right?”

Change. You think that sounded better. One word. One feeling. 

Just what type of change did you want? 

[solarbird]

The Armourer and the Living Weapon, Chapter 5: "'Hello, cherie,' said the Widowmaker, quietly, in her ear"

The Armourer and the Living Weapon, Chapter 5: "'Hello, cherie,' said the Widowmaker, quietly, in her ear"

[AO3 link]

Definitely not here, thought Oilliphéist, scanning the apartment through her infravision sights. But not so long gone, either.

She'd had no trouble identifying Lena Oxton's King's Row apartment. Tracer's recurring presence had never been a secret to anyone, and Widowmaker already had a pretty decent estimate of the location, before. Emily keened a little, inside, thinking of her, and her absence, and shook it off, floating back up above it, happily. Soon, she thought, smiling again.

She ghosted over to the most likely balcony, and looked in. Definitely the Oxton apartment - who else would have a charging station appropriate for a chronal accelerator? Alarmed, almost certainly, thought the assassin. Police won't be an issue, but other Overwatch agents might be. We should move quickly, when we do.

Her comm vibrated, silently, the haptics tapping against her skin, and she enabled her earpiece. "Oilliphéist here," she subvocalised.

"Hello, cherie," said Widowmaker, quietly, in her ear. "I have missed you so very, very much."

Emily gasped, entire body tingling, spinning around from the glass door, no longer subvocalising. "Oh, oh, oh, beloved, where are you? Are you nearby?" She reactivated her infravision, scanning quickly around her, near and far, without finding her lover. "I don't see you..."

"I am not where I think you are. You are in London, I suspect?"

"Of course, Moira sent..." said the newer assassin, without thinking, then, upon thinking, not caring she said it. "You are not?"

"No. Not at the moment. But I am desperate to see you."

"I am coming, I promise, I will rescue you, I will bring you home, I swear," the armourer said. "Did you get my message, the one I left via the camera?"

"Yes, I did - you were right, that one was mine."

"Can you speak freely? Are you being monitored? Tell me how to retrieve you."

"Yes, but yes - Tracer is here - and I do not need rescue. My plan has been to rescue you, once you received my gift."

"Once I re..." She blinked, and thought, and thought again, and fire, lovely fire, raged through her mind. "You... you arranged all this?"

"I was certain they would accept your petition, if I disappeared. I'm sorry you got hurt on the way out, but - it did, at least, appear to provide cover."

Emily sank to her knees, shaken, more than she imagined she could be. "You... you did all that, all on your own, just for me?"

"Yes. I was so afraid it did not work, and then, I finally saw you..."

"Oh, beloved, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you, I am so happy, all the time, everything is..." she stretched, feeling her body, feeling every cell and sinew and rod, "...wonderful."

"They... did not disable your emotions, as they did with me? You do not need that kind of rescue?"

"No. Aunt Moira had a free hand, she left me happiness - and she wanted to give that to you, too. But I told her, there was no need, we'd already done that ourselves, oh, love, you're so brilliant..."

It worked, thought the Widowmaker, back in Gibraltar, gasping softly, quietly, sinking back into the console's chair. It worked. She smiled, as broadly as she had at Lena when she realised they'd both played each other into actual love, and Lena nodded, and squeezed the senior assassin's hand.

"Tracer," Emily said, a hard edge to her voice, "Since you are listening: you will release Widowmaker, at once. Let her come to me, freely, and I will allow you to live."

Lena shrugged, hands in the air, uncertainty on her face, and mouthed, "You gonna tell her? 'Cause she needs to know." Widowmaker nodded her agreement.

"Emily - I am not a prisoner. Lena has been aiding me in this. At first... we were using each other, but..." she swallowed, "...it became more than that, much like it did with you. I still love you, more than anything else, even the kill, but... I also love her. We want you to come be with us, and away from Talon. Talon would never permit what I have become, and I will not go back to what I was."

Oilliphéist frowned, and tilted her head, and thought, What matters most?, and thought some more. "Everything else aside... you still love me."

"More than anything I have ever known in my world."

Bliss washed over the newer assassin like luminescent ocean waves, and she closed her eyes and rocked herself, diving through the joy. "And her?"

"You'll notice... she is still alive."

Oilliphéist breathed out long and slow, accepting the statement on an almost primal level, knowing exactly what the Widowmaker meant - yes, she thought, she does, more than she is even willing to admit. She nodded, and smiled, again, though no one could see. Ah, my spider, she thought, always weaving such beautiful webs. "Then... then I don't care. If you want her, too, I don't mind. But we have to meet, in person, to work this out. Just us. I have to know you aren't being... coerced."

"Where?"

"Hoof & Haunch, King's Row, seven o'clock tomorrow night? They're already used to your new girlfriend, surely they can handle two women showing up in blue..."

My home turf, Lena thought, and smirked. And it'll be two on one, if things go south. Easy peasy. But let's not count chickens. She looked at Jesse, Jesse who'd done this kind of thing before, Jesse who had experience in King's Row, Jesse, who could shoot flies off horses at range, and mouthed, "Backup?" And he nodded, and Lena smiled. Three on one. She turned to Winston and mouthed, "Pilot and backup?" And he nodded as well. Four on one. She tries anything, she'll never know what hit her. We've got this.

"I'm willing if you are," said the Overwatch agent.

Over comms, Oilliphéist's voice, or no, Emily's, specifically, again, so familiar. "How 'bout it, Blue? Is it a date?"

Widowmaker narrowed her eyes, weighing possibilities. Emily couldn't call on Talon for support - the video showed that clearly. It would be her, possibly a few of Moira's personal agents... and not much else. All she'd need to do would be to convince Emily there wasn't any going back, and her original plan would come together, exactly as she'd planned.

I overreacted to the video, she decided. We can fix this. Most of it has already fixed itself. They could repair the rest of it, she felt sure.

Widowmaker smiled. "It sounds wonderful. We'll see you tomorrow."

"I can't wait."

-----

Lena wandered the halls of Watchpoint Gibraltar, late at night, alone, carrying Widowmaker's Kiss on her back, the assassin asleep on the double bed in in Lena's new quarters. Even with much of the new Overwatch together in one place, and generally one building, the facility felt cavernous.

She walked up to the old control centre, lately Winston's office, and looked out the bevelled window. Her flyer sat quietly, below. Tomorrow, they'd take a heavier craft, one with more gear, enough for Winston to scan for incoming hostiles from Talon, or Vishkar, or whoever else might be oh so very interested in the two products of Moira's Widowmaker process.

A door opened, and closed, behind her, and she looked back, over her left shoulder. "Hello," said Winston, loping down the hall. "I thought I heard somebody out here."

"Y'have good ears, y'know that?"

"I do."

Tracer grinned. "Ready for tomorrow, big guy?"

"Are you?"

"I think so."

"I'm surprised you're out here alone, given that you're carrying her rifle. She didn't seem to want it out of her sight, before."

"I asked her, before she went to bed. She... stocks up on sleep before missions? Does that make sense? Says it builds up cellular energy storehouses, so she doesn't have to eat or sleep in the field." Lena shifted the Kiss on her back, just to feel it move. She liked the reminder of her presence - she felt nice, an odd thing to feel about a firearm, but true nonetheless.

"How'd you get here, Lena?" asked her oldest friend.

"Flyer's right there, luv, don't you remember?" she joked.

"Lena..."

The teleporting pilot bit her lower lip, and thought. "You know the story. Thought I was playin' her. Turned out, I wasn't, I was playin' myself. Same for her."

"You raged for a month after she killed Mondatta."

"I know." She shifted the Kiss again, subconsciously.

"You're carrying the weapon that killed him."

"I know."

"And you're... fine with that?"

"It's... complicated." She pulled Widowmaker's rifle off her back, holding it gently, not putting it down. "It's... you weren't there, luv. You can't know. I screamed when I saw what she'd done. I howled. I could've just killed her, if I'd been able, and at the same time, I couldn't." She ran her hands along the firearm's bluish-grey casing. "It... it wasn't just me bein' angry, and it wasn't just me grieving... it was... I felt so... betrayed."

"Betrayed, that she did... exactly what we'd expect? Exactly what she came to do?"

"Yeh," she nodded, still looking at the rifle.

"That doesn't make any sense. Anger makes sense. Grief makes sense. How could you feel betrayed, unless..." and his eyes widened.

Lena took a big, deep breath. "Y'got there. Can't feel betrayed by somebody if y'don't care for 'em, and y'can't feel betrayed like that unless it's strong."

"Already? Then?"

Tracer just nodded.

"I... I had no idea. You barely even knew Amélie."

"Didn't know her at all, luv! Not even sure we ever met. I don't have that excuse."

"Then... how? Why? "

"Dunno. It was always just her, just Widowmaker, since the first time we ever met, but some part of me knew. Just took the rest of me a while to figure it out, that's all."

"She still killed Mondatta."

"Yeh, she did. And she didn't feel a thing, yet - least, not much of anything, other than the kill. But while all that's true... she didn't kill me, when she could've. My accelerator was barely holding me in time, I couldn't've fought her - I was done. She could've finished me, or, worse, taken me back with her, to be... transformed, like she was."

"And she didn't," he said, understanding, at last.

"And she didn't. Even hid me from her extraction team. Took me a while to figure that out, but I got there eventually." Lena pulled the Kiss close to herself, held it tightly for just a moment, and slipped it carefully back over her shoulder. "And if we can reach each other... maybe she can reach Em." She shook her head. "Emily."

"You just don't give up on people, do you?"

Tracer grinned her famous half-grin, and fuzzled her best friend's hair. "Nope! Leastways, not if I can help it."

"Never change, Lena." He patted his best friend's back. "Never change."

"Don't worry." She skitched his head a little more. "I won't."