#Start your own recruitment agency

[recruit-art]

[hoshifighting]

"Seungcheol, if your mouth could stay shut for once, that would be amazing."

"You should try sitting on it sometime."

— Synopsis: Where you are a Secret Agent, and on a new task, the director of your agency puts you in charge of a mission, however shared with Seungcheol, your enemy within the company. — WC: 3.2k — WARNINGS: Enemies to lovers, smut, face sitting, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, reader kicks Seungcheol once, guns, Seungcheol is such a flirty, and etc.

Since you started to work as a secret agent, you have spent eight years of your life dedicated to the operations of your enigmatic organization. Your reputation for being a relentless workaholic had earned you the respect of your colleagues, but you knew that, as a woman, you had to work even harder to prove yourself in this male-dominated field.

The mission briefing had been shrouded in secrecy, and you were accustomed to the clandestine nature of your work. The director, a stern and calculating figure, sat at the head of the table. Your heart raced as you took your usual seat, the weight of responsibility settling over your shoulders.

"Agent Y/N," the director began, his eyes piercing through the dim light, "you have proven yourself time and again as one of our top operatives. Your dedication to the mission is commendable, and your track record speaks for itself."

You nodded, acknowledging the director's words with a stoic expression. Years of covert operations had taught you to keep your emotions in check, especially in the presence of those who held your fate in their hands.

"However," the director continued, his gaze shifting to a figure standing near the door, "this mission is of utmost importance, and we've decided that you'll be working alongside Agent Seungcheol."

The tension in the room was palpable as you and Seungcheol exchanged a curt nod, acknowledging the director's decision. The history between you and Seungcheol ran deep – you had been recruited together, trained side by side, and grown up together 

inside of the secretive organization. However, somewhere along the way, an unspoken rivalry had developed, and your interactions had become laced with sarcasm — a habitual defense mechanism that had become second nature to both of you.

As the director delved into the mission details, you and Seungcheol kept your gazes fixed forward, avoiding eye contact. The air was thick, because neither of you could pinpoint the exact moment the rivalry had begun, but it had become an integral part of your dynamic.

You couldn't deny Seungcheol's skills – his sharp intellect and quick reflexes complemented your own, forming an unexpectedly effective duo. But since you never liked his guts, you never asked to work with him. You liked to charge the missions alone, a bit egoistic, but sharing the mission with someone means that you needed to get along with their ideas. And when that someone is a pain on your ass, you can't help but want the mission to end as quickly as possible.

In the following days, you and Seungcheol found yourselves forced to cooperate.

The training room echoed with the sounds of combat, and you and Seungcheol faced off under the watchful eyes of the trainer, who called for a sparring match between you and Seungcheol. 

Seungcheol's muscles rippled as he steady himself for the impending clash, his confidence evident in his cocky grin. You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath about the unfairness of the situation. 

You exchanged a glance with Seungcheol, both knowing that this was going to be more than just a friendly sparring session. The trainer's words fueled the competitive fire that had long been smoldering between you two.

Seungcheol chuckled, flexing his muscles theatrically. "Come on, Y/N, don't hold back. I hope you've been practicing your moves."

You rolled your eyes, a smirk playing on your lips. "Oh, Seungcheol, I've been waiting for this moment."

As Seungcheol lunged towards you, you swiftly sidestepped, allowing your training to guide your instincts. With a calculated move, you delivered a precise and well-timed kick to the middle of Seungcheol's legs. 

The room echoed with a sudden gasp "Fuck! My balls!"

Seungcheol crumpled to the ground, his confident grin twisted into a pained expression, cursing under his breath. A tiny tear formed at the corner of his eye, which, against his will, rolled down his cheek. 

"Seriously? A kick in the balls? That's your strategy?" Seungcheol asked, holding his crotch. 

"Well, it never fails." You couldn't help but chuckle, extending a hand to help him up. "Besides, it's not my fault your muscles can't protect you from everything." 

Seungcheol accepted your hand, irritation in his eyes. "I'll remember this, Y/N. Just you wait."

[...]

The air was filled thick with the mingling scents of expensive perfume and cigar smoke. As you discreetly adjusted the gun holster beneath your dress, your eyes scanned the crowded party. Important figures from politics, the music industry, and CEOs adorned the lavish venue. 

Seungcheol's voice crackled in your earpiece, his tone playful. "Careful, Y/N, don't trip over that fancy dress of yours."

You adjusted your black dress, the piece clinging to your body was not the best choice for this type of mission. but you had to look sophisticated, blending seamlessly into the high-profile event. Rolling your eyes, you responded with a sharp whisper "Careful Seungcheol, before I choke you with your own tie." 

Perching yourself on a barstool, you observed the president's wife making her way down the grand staircase. The opulent ring on her finger immediately caught your attention. However, a quick and discreet glance told you what your sharp instincts suspected – it was a clever forgery.

As you listened to her conversation, she mentioned the gift from her husband, a gilded ring with a sparkling jewel that captured the attention of everyone in the room. But you knew better; the real ring was somewhere else.

Leaving the crowded main hall, you discreetly made your way to the backyard of the mansion. Spotting a vertical staircase, you hesitated, careful to avoid any prying eyes. 

As you got up the ladder, Seungcheol's voice chimed in through your earpiece, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and disapproval. "Seriously, Y/N, could you have chosen a more discreet dress for this mission? You're practically broadcasting our presence."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, even though he couldn't see you. "Well, Seungcheol, if you can find a way for me to conceal a gun in a gown, I'm all ears."

A faint chuckle echoed in your ear as you reached the top of the stairs. "Point taken. But your dress is a bit... revealing."

Looking down, you noticed Seungcheol standing below, arms crossed, a disapproving expression on his face. A sudden gust of wind played a mischievous role, lifting the fabric of your dress and revealing a hint of your thigh through the slit.

A small sigh escaped your lips as you discreetly adjusted the fabric to regain some modesty. "I know the view is amazing, Seungcheol, but we've got a mission to complete. Focus, will you?"

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, trust me, I'm focused."

"I need you up here. We have work to do."

"Aight Ma'am."

The search for the elusive ring led you and Seungcheol through the rooms of the mansion. The tension in the air was palpable as you scoured every inch for the hidden treasure, aware that time was decreasing. 

The quiet shuffle of footsteps grew louder, echoing through the opulent hallway as you and Seungcheol frantically searched for the elusive ring. The sudden realization that someone was approaching sent a jolt of urgency through both of you. Without a second thought, you grabbed Seungcheol's arm, and the two of you dashed towards the nearest hiding spot – a closet at the end of the corridor.

"You know, Y/N, it's a shame we're stuck in here. I was hoping for a front-row seat to your fashion show."

Your eyes narrowed, and you shot him a stern look. "Seungcheol, if your mouth could stay shut for once, that would be amazing."

As he investigated the cramped space, he muttered, "You should try sitting on it sometime." His quiet suggestion, delivered as if he had inadvertently let his thoughts slip, hung in the air.

"What the fuck?" 

A moment of silence hung in the air before you couldn't help but scoff, a mixture of disbelief and amusement in your response. "Really, Seungcheol? Now is not the time for your innuendos." 

The thought of sitting on his face was really tempting, even if he was Seungcheol, you couldn't deny the he looked hot as fuck. However, you couldn't let his teasing distract you from the pressing matter at hand. 

"Why, of all people, did they choose you to work with me on this mission?" you inquired.

"They wanted to see if we could actually work together without tearing each other apart."

"Let's find that ring and get out of here before your humor gets us caught."

The realization struck you as you scanned the closet for any last-minute clues – a piece of cloth concealing a safe. Your instincts kicked in, and with no time to decipher the real passwords, you swiftly directed Seungcheol to step back.

"Move away, Seungcheol," you commanded, grabbing your gun and taking aim at the lock. A single shot echoed through the room as the lock shattered, revealing the sought-after ring nestled within the safe.

The relief was palpable as you delicately retrieved the reason of the mission. However, the sound of the gunshot had undoubtedly attracted attention. With a sense of urgency, you pocketed the ring, and both of you left the room. 

Bodyguards approached, closing in on your location. Seungcheol's quick reflexes took down one, and with a swift move, you incapacitated another. The voice of your assistant buzzed in your earpiece, directing you to the parking lot where your escape awaited.

As you and Seungcheol hurried through the mansion, the route downstairs became blocked by advancing guards. A daring solution presented itself as Seungcheol seized your hand and brought you to a large window overlooking the party, with guests oblivious to the unfolding chaos.

You glanced at the dizzying drop, the pool below shimmering like a distant oasis. Fear of heights had never been an issue for you after years of high-stakes missions, but the sight still made you gulp. Seungcheol, holding your hand, assessed the situation.

"It's the only way," he declared, determination in his eyes.

The sound of approaching bodyguards left you with no other option. Taking a deep breath, you squeezed Seungcheol's hand, and together, you leaped from the window. 

Gasping for air, you and Seungcheol emerged from the pool, the water cascading off your soaked bodies. Wasting no time, you and Seungcheol hurriedly left the pool, the wet clothes clinging uncomfortably to your forms.

Navigating through the concerned crowd, you and Seungcheol helped each other, the soaked clothing making every step a challenge. The glances from the partygoers intensified as more bodyguards approached, running towards the commotion. The parking lot, your salvation, beckoned in the distance.

With the sound of approaching footsteps and murmurs growing louder, you and Seungcheol quickened your pace, weaving through the gathering crowd. The black car awaited your arrival. As you reached the vehicle, wet and disheveled, you wasted no time. The doors swung open, and you both practically fell into the car, water dripping onto the leather seats.

Seungcheol revved the engine, and the car sped away from the mansion, leaving behind a confused and agitated scene. The wet clothes clung uncomfortably, but the precious ring, safely secured in your hand, provided a sense of accomplishment amid the chaos.

The car sped through the night, weaving through the city until it came to a stop at the inconspicuous hiding place behind the International Attaché Offices. The tactical team awaited, ready to secure the ring and initiate its swift return to the country, knowing it was in capable hands, and the team quickly moved to carry out their mission.

Once the ring was safely in transit, you and Seungcheol made your way to a nearby hotel. The day's events had left you both soaked, drawing more than a few curious glances as you entered. The receptionist raised an eyebrow as you approached the check-in counter, both of you dripping water onto the floor.

The news that you and Seungcheol would be sharing a room elicited a shockedreaction from you. "Really? After spending the entire day together?!"

You huffed in response, making your way to the room with a glance back at Seungcheol. The tiredness from the day's events washed over you, and as you entered the room, you couldn't help but express your exasperation.

"I hope you don't snore," you quipped, a hint of humor in your voice. "After today, I need some decent rest without any surprises."

Seungcheol chuckled, seemingly unfazed by your protests. "Don't worry, Y/N. I promise to be on my best behavior."

You emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around your hair, to find Seungcheol already engrossed in a conversation with the IT specialists, poring over the details of the ring's location. He glanced up at you, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Feeling more calm now, Y/N? Has the anger passed?" he inquired, seemingly unfazed by your earlier irritation.

You scoffed, a trace of annoyance lingering. "No, it hasn't. And it won't as long as you keep talking." 

His grin widened. "Well, you know, I did give you a good suggestion back at the mansion. Sitting on it would keep me shut."

You chuckled, appreciating the humor in his attempt to lighten the mood. However, when the laughter subsided, you noticed the shift in Seungcheol's expression. His playful demeanor gave way to a more serious gaze, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his earlier comment.

"Wait, are you serious, Seungcheol?" you asked, the curiosity evident in your voice.

He met your gaze, the playful facade replaced by a sincerity that caught you off guard. "About what I said earlier? Yeah, I was serious."

Your legs involuntarily pressed together, a strange mix of disbelief and arousal sweeping through you. The suggestion that initially seemed like harmless banter now had an unexpected effect, making your panties damp, while you tried to maintain composure.

Seungcheol, with a cocky grin, manspread in front of you, his cock showing up on his tactel shorts, so locking eyes as he casually asked, "So, what's your answer, Y/N? Feeling a bit more open-minded now?"

 "Seungcheol, you must be out of your mind if you think I'd entertain that idea."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "Why not? We've been through a lot today. A little stress relief might do wonders."

You scoffed, trying to dismiss the newfound awareness of the situation. "Your suggestions aren't exactly what I had in mind for stress relief, Seungcheol."

He raised an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. "Oh? And what did you have in mind, then?"

The unexpected turn in the conversation took you by surprise, and you hesitated for a moment. However, the playful glint in Seungcheol's eyes and the underlying sincerity in his previous words made you reconsider. 

With a wry smile, you conceded, "Fine, Seungcheol. Maybe your suggestion has some merit. A little unconventional, but it's been a long day."

Seungcheol's eyes widened in surprise, his cocky demeanor momentarily replaced by genuine astonishment. "Wait, seriously? You're considering it?"

You decided to take the lead, sliding off your shorts and panties in one swift motion. "Come on, Seungcheol, no time to waste. Act before I give up." 

Seungcheol, seemingly caught off guard by your bold move, grinned and chuckled. "Well, when you put it that way."

Without hesitation, he followed suit, taking off his shirt and laying on the bed, Seungcheol's silent gesture prompted you to get up, you climbed onto the bed, straddling him. When you feel the warmth of Seungcheol's breath against your wet pussy, you stop and slowly sit on his face.

You gasp, and he moans against your core, his tongue running through your folds, before sucking your clit between his lips. Seungcheol's hands grab your ass, instructing you to ride his face. 

As you began to ride, the room filled with the wet sounds, the arousal from your dripping pussy, now was glistening on his face, Seungcheol's eyes were attentive, watching your reactions, to see if he was eating you out like you deserve. 

"Fuck, it's so good Seungcheol-ah…" Your legs trrembled around his face, and he answered with a long hum. 

You still stopped from releasing your weight on him, Seungcheol sensing this, wrapped his arms around your waist, your cunt pressed to his tongue now. His tongue swirls around your clit as you squirm holding his hair making his eyes close in pleasure. He begins to suck your bud with more precision, your clit becoming more and more sensitive and the vibrations of his groans against your pussy made your orgasm finally hit you, your legs closing around his ears.

As you released yourself from Seungcheol, sitting on his side. He ran his thumb across his wet chin, a subtle gesture that seemed to convey a sense of satisfaction. With eyes closed, he sensually sucked on his thumb, his gaze met yours, a satisfied look played on his face. 

"Is there something more I can do for you?" He asks, caressing your legs.

A teasing smile played on your lips as you whispered in his ear,  your words laced with playful suggestion. His response was a low, involuntary moan, his lips bitten in response to the subtle teasing.

Seungcheol, catching on to the direction of the conversation, asked, "Is that what you want?" Your nod was all the confirmation he needed. 

With a swift movement, he got up, freeing himself from his shorts, revealing there was nothing underneath. His cock lays on his belly, big and proud, the precum already making his tip shiny. 

You positioned yourself, laying your face on the bed and lifting your ass up, glancing back at Seungcheol from over your shoulder. The suggestive pose seemed to elicit a reaction from him.

With a swift motion, he slapped your ass, a grin playing on his lips. "You're naughty," 

He positioned himself, before slamming his dick all inside of you, the veiny cock was stretching your walls, while he hummed how good your pussy was tightening around him.  

"Fuck, I don't even know why we've been buckering like two idiots, you're so hot." He says before his hips start to pick up pace.

The room became a symphony of moans as you mumbled something about how good it felt, your face pressed into the mattress. Seungcheol's hands firmly held onto your body, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he skillfully hit the g'spot.

Seungcheol moaned, expressing the pleasure of the moment. "You feel so good around me, you lil' slut" he muttered.

In response, you announced that you were on the brink of another climax. "I'm cumming again," you whispered.

He eagerly asked, "Yeah?" And with that affirmation, he sped up his hips, sending you into a convulsive release, spasming on the bed.

As you tightened and then relaxed around him, prompting Seungcheol to release. A primal moan escaped him, and he threw his head back, while he pumped his dick, his cum spreading on your ass. Your body collapsed on the bed, the duvet now soft against your skin. Seungcheol laid by your side.

Seungcheol's fingers gently brushed through your hair, a tender gesture that contrasted with the all-the-time-bickering. He leaned in, kissing you with a fiery intensity that left you momentarily breathless, your senses overwhelmed.

As you came back to the present, Seungcheol, a teasing glint in his eyes, asked with a smirk, "Did I knock you out with that kiss, Y/N? Or was it something else?"

"Hmm… I'll kick your balls again" You threatened tiredly.

"No! You won't!" He covers himself and you chuckle closing your eyes.

[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: pegging

pairing: seo changbin x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

pegging: in which someone penetrates another person's anus, usually with a strap-on dildo.

Excited was an understatement.

You were well-known. When you’d first started, you’d only been a camgirl recruited by the agency and had never had sex with another person on camera. It was liberating managing to do that, and even more liberating when the money started flowing in. You started having sex with bigger and bigger stars, and the amounts of money got unbelievable. However, today was the day you’d been waiting for.

Seo Changbin was another star in your agency. You hadn’t gotten the chance to film with him yet, because your schedules were always too packed, but you were a resident viewer of his videos. He wasn’t quite dominant, more of a passionate lover when he put his co-stars in a headlock with his muscled arms, but it made your clit throb nonetheless. You couldn’t wait to have him.

Except, not everything worked out the way you’d expected - that’s not to say it wasn’t in your favour. The agency had decided on a Halloween shoot, two of their biggest stars fucking on camera while dressed up in some raunchy costumes. You’d heard the premise and agreed on the script, but when you heard the plans they had for you… well, that was really a game changer.

A Playboy bunny skit was one thing, but a skit where you weren’t the bunny, but Changbin was? Now, that intrigued you. It had you flipping through the script to imagine it differently. He’d be in a pretty little black bodysuit, pushing those muscled pecs up and with cute ears perched on his head atop a headband. It sounded perfect. All you had to do was play the part of his dominant, the woman who was going to fuck his brains out with her biggest strap-on. It was easy.

It didn’t seem easy when you saw him. You thought you were going to go insane. Prior to the shoot, you’d been put in a pink satin dressing gown, soft ivory cotton adorning the wrists and the hemline. Obviously, you had nothing on underneath, and Changbin stood by the doorway to your dressing room, all muscled arms bulging over his bodysuit and a cut-out in the fabric showing some very appealing cleavage. Your jaw dropped.

“Hi,” He was shy, embarrassed despite bouncing over to you like he really was a little bunny. His ears shifted and he huffed, pressing the headband down onto his dark, curly hair. Your makeup artist fiddled around with your own hair, trying to get it perfect for the shoot. “I thought I’d introduce myself. We’ve never really crossed paths. I’m Changbin.”

You licked your lips, nodding to ground yourself. Be yourself. Be cheeky, be nice. “Hello. It’s so nice to meet you. It looks like we’ll be co-stars today, huh? Are you excited?” Damn, did you have to sound so formal?

Changbin hopped from one foot to the other, eventually settling on crossing his broad arms over his just-as-broad chest. “I’m a little nervous, to be honest. I’ve, uh… I’ve bottomed before, been pegged and whatever, but never on camera. I guess I just wanted to ask you to go easy on me.”

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” You blurted. Even your makeup artist paused. Changbin’s eyes widened. “No. No, what I meant was, like- you look good. You look hot, Changbin. I’d be lucky to peg you. I am- I am lucky to peg you.”

It’s just sinking in. You’re going to peg him, and you’re terrified you’re going to cum untouched. You’ve already forgotten the script.

“Oh! Heh,” He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, staring at the floor with a smug, downturned grin. “Right. You’re hot too, by the way. Really hot. I’ve been looking forward to shooting with you, and since I found out the premise, well… I’ve kinda been looking forward to it even more. Is that weird?”

“Not weird at all, me too,” You gushed. Changbin finally reverted his eyes to you, a real, toothy smile adorning his face when he saw how excited you really were. “Have you- um, have you… y’know. Prepped?”

Changbin blushed, a crimson shade covering his cheeks. He was so cute, you thought you were going to have a heart attack before the cameras even switched on. “It’s a surprise. You’ll like it. The surprise, I mean.”

“I’ll like everything else, too,” You nodded solemnly. Changbin giggled, a chiming overtaking the room. You blinked when he turned around and bounced out of your dressing room, and your makeup artist sounded like she was choking back a laugh. You groaned. “Don’t.”

She grinned. “I didn’t say anything, honey.”

When you arrived at the set, Changbin was already there. The set was cute, at least, fairy lights adorning the walls and bed sheets a blush baby pink. He looked cute too, laying on the bed scrolling through his phone as if he wasn’t dressed like the best bunny you’ve ever seen. You fucking loved Halloween.

You crawled onto the bed regardless, making Changbin jump and drop his phone. “Hi again,” You murmured, one finger running down his side. He jolted, giggling like it tickled him. “You really do look cute, Changbin.”

“Bin is fine. Even- even Binnie. I prefer Binnie-”

“Alright, quit the flirting,” Hyunjin chirped. Hyunjin was the best director you’d worked with. He didn’t mind if you went off-script, so long as it was all authentic and real. No fake orgasms, obviously. The sex had to look like art. Jeongin was his cameraman, and when you first met him, he’d been awkward and blushy - now, he looked at you with indifference apart from a cute grin on his pouty lips. You were so proud. “I know we sent you the script, but I’ve changed my mind. I want you to just kiss first, be natural, lead into whatever. Sounds good?”

That was another thing about Hyunjin. He loved to change the plans. You nodded, before briefly looking around the room. “Where’s the dick?”

“What do you mean?” Jeongin questioned, looking at Changbin. His eyes ran down to his crotch. “It’s there.”

“No, the strap-on, you idiot,” You huffed. Hyunjin giggled, before nodding towards the floor. Oh. There it was, clear as day, a bright pink strap-on that looked way too big to fit into someone comfortably. You hoped Changbin’s surprise helped him out with that.

Unsurprisingly, it did. Changbin rolled over onto his tummy and shook his ass at you teasingly with a grin, and you caught sight of a white fluffy bunny tail sticking out of a hole in his bodysuit. Oh. Oh, right. It’s a plug.

“Are you kidding me?” You gasped, reaching down to immediately grab it. Changbin jolted, eyes widening, and you took your chance. You yanked his face towards yours, pressing your lips against his in a dirty exchange of lips, teeth and spit. You briefly recognised Hyunjin and Jeongin mumbling to each other, and then the cameras switched on. You pushed Changbin back, letting his toned back rest on the bed and then you were in his lap, ignoring his whine at feeling the plug pressing in further.

You kept kissing him, unable to stop. His lips were so saccharinely sweet, and you could feel one folded-up bunny ear from his headband tickling your head. His tongue darted around your mouth and he let his hands grab at your waist, clothed erection grinding up into your naked pussy. You pulled away, smirking at him as you ran your fingers through his hair affectionately, before standing up and walking away. The cameras stayed on, recording every step you took as you crossed the room to examine your strap. You had to get to the point, or you’d be kissing him forever.

“The plug’s very cute, bunny, but do you want something bigger?” You muse, running your finger over the strap. Changbin nods, lips kiss bitten as he looks at you with teary eyes. “You want my strap, baby?”

“Y-Yeah. I- Hnng. I want your cock, please, mommy,” Changbin gushed, thick thighs spreading to allow you between them. You could see the bulge of his cock, hard and fat and pressing against the black satin of the bodysuit. You raised an eyebrow, however. The mommy kink was definitely not in the script - was he this far gone already?

You smiled and let yourself get back on the bed, strap in hand. You moved your free hand to his side, thumb tracing across his clothed hip bone. "Mommy’s going to give you what you want, sweetheart, you don’t need to beg.”

Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his once more and guided his mouth open with your tongue. You pulled away, letting out a low hum of arousal as he watched you with anticipation. Changbin’s eyes stayed glued to you, and you ignored the wetness accumulating on your folds as you let the pink robe drop, fully naked underneath. Your nipples were pebbled against the cold air, and Changbin’s gaze dropped to them, eyes widening.

“You like them, baby? Maybe you can suck on them while mommy fucks you nice and deep, yeah?” Changbin nodded, reaching out to you to pull you on top of him. You pressed your hand on his tummy softly, pressing him to the bed to calm him down. “I have to get the strap on, baby. Why don’t you take that bodysuit off for me?”

God, that was the best sentence that ever left your mouth. Changbin wriggled out of his bodysuit and he was left naked, all muscled, honey-toned skin revealed to you. His nipples were hard upon his broad chest, dark dusky peaks that begged to have your tongue running circles over them. His cock was hard against his soft tummy, short and thick and anticipating some attention - but your eyes immediately went to his cheeks. The plug stayed firmly inside his tight hole, fluffy material peeking out from tanned planes of skin. He really was the best bunny you’d ever seen.

Once the strap was firmly set on your hips, bright pink silicone alarming to the eye, you reached down to play with the plug inside his hole. He jolted, whining and spreading his thick thighs further for you, cock twitching in desperation.

“Please, please,” He huffed, chest heaving. “Please, mommy. I need something bigger, need something bigger in there, ‘s not enough, bunny needs-”

You cooed, running your thumb over his cheekbone. “Okay, okay. I’ve got you, bunny, spread nice and wide for me.”

He obliged, letting his thighs hang over his hands in a pliant, open position, and then you reached down to pull the fluffy pom-pom tail out of his hole. It slipped out, still slick with lube, and you groaned lowly at the sight.

“C’mere,” You ushered Changbin, and when he moved to come closer, you let the fake cock hang in his face. “Spit on it, bunny. We’ve got to get it wet or it’ll hurt, huh?”

Changbin moaned, nodding with urgency, and then he was sucking the tip past his lips. Oh. That’s not what you meant, but you were absolutely loving the view. He sucked half of the length into his mouth, moaning around the silicone as if it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. He was putting on a show for the cameras, you realised - you’d honestly forgotten they were there, too engrossed in the pretty bunny on display for you on this set.

You pulled the strap out of Changbin’s mouth, slapping the head a few times on his full, doll-like lips, before you were moving backwards to press it against his hole. The tip pushed in with no resistance, stretching his tight, little hole back out around the silicone. It was the rest of it that was an issue - Changbin thrashed around as the flared shaft entered him, stretching him further than the plug did and making him whine.

“‘S- ‘S big, mommy, bunny feels so good,” He huffed, cheeks blazing red. You could tell he’d lost all sense of coherence, and you understood why he’d never bottomed before on camera. He got way too into it. It stopped being porn, and started being more authentic - but then, Hyunjin liked that after all. You let your hips start to move against him, slapping against his skin, and he whined with approval.

You had to amp up the ante, though. “You’re like a bunny in heat, Binnie,” You mused, positioning yourself on your forearms above him. Changbin moaned, a guttural noise that made your pussy clench sadly around nothing. Maybe you could convince him to fuck you again after this, off camera. You thrusted into him a few more times before pulling out, making him whine at the loss. “Come and ride me. Hop on my cock like a good bunny, yeah?”

Once you were positioned on your back, Changbin scrambled to press his hole above your strap. In this position, you could see him properly, bunny ears askew and his cute cock bouncing against his tummy. He gasped as he sunk down on your strap again, the fake cock filling him up beyond belief.

“Oh. Oh, mommy, ‘s deep, deep, pressing against my, my-“ He cut himself off with a whine, hands coming to rest on your tits while he bounced. You cooed softly, hand rubbing over his thighs where they clenched with the exertion. He was quite literally bouncing like a bunny - he couldn’t stop his own movements, bunny ears flopping over his eyes and whines flooding out of his mouth. “It’s never felt this good. Oh, God, it feels so good, I need’a cum. Need to, oh, bunny needs to-“

“Ssh, ssh,” You mumbled, hand wrapping around his cock. It leaked beneath his foreskin, drippy and pearlescent as you started to pump it with a tight fist. You wanted him so bad - but this was about him. The cameras too, which you had forgotten about again. “Cum for me then. Cum on my tits, bunny, c’mon.”

Changbin wailed, hands moving to find purchase on your thighs. The change in position had him bouncing quicker, and you accompanied it with pumps of his cock at the same pace.

“G’na cum for mommy,” He mumbled, cheeks blazing crimson. It took two more bounces and you rubbed your thumb over his slit. When he keened, fingernails digging into your skin, you took that as your cue and aimed his cockhead at your tits. “Cumming! Bunny’s cumming, cumming, fuck!”

You watched in awe as his cock spurted out thick ropes of white cum, smothering your tits in the warm liquid. He gasped and writhed on the strap through his orgasm, hips slowing to a soft grind and eyebrows furrowing. You pumped him a few more times, letting him ride out his orgasm, and then you let his softening cock go for some reprieve. With one finger, you swept up his cum from your skin and sucked it into your mouth, humming at the salty taste.

Changbin huffed out a breath, collapsing on top of you unceremoniously. His headband slid upon his dark hair again and you giggled, pulling it off of his head altogether to run your fingers through it.

“Okay, wow,” Hyunjin huffed. You blinked hazily towards him, seeing him and Jeongin stood there with dropped jaws. “Okay. Okay.”

Jeongin giggled, pressing a few buttons on the camera. He grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist, starting to drag him out of the room despite the fact that the elder man seemed rooted to the spot. “I’ll take him away. You guys did great, just chill for a minute.”

Changbin giggled against your neck, and then he shifted his hips, letting the fake cock drop out. On autopilot, you rubbed your thumb over his gaping rim, grinning when he jolted and gasped.

“You really didn’t take it easy on me, huh?” Changbin said, shaking his head in disbelief.

You burst out laughing, chest shaking. “I did warn you,” You began, and then you felt awkward. He was snuggled up to your chest, sated and relaxed as if it was home, so… could you ask him? “Bin. Do you want to, like… go on a date sometime?”

Changbin perked up at that, looking at you with his usual downturned smile. “I’d love to.”

[utilitycaster]

I sort of got off topic in the ask I just answered, and this is also a repetition of stuff I and others have said pretty frequently before but: an unbelievably consistent theme across Critical Role especially, but also D20 while we're at it, is that sitting forever in resentment of your personal traumas, valid though they may be, can very easily become a source of villainy. It leads to a mentality in which you are always the wronged and oppressed (structurally or individually) party, even when you surpass those who wronged you in power, even if you start perpetuating the same harm. We see it constantly. It's the entire premise behind how Orthax functions and both Percy and Ripley fall to it; it's Delilah's eventual motivation after her initial defeat; it's the underpinning of Wildemount's many cults and something Lucien repeatedly cites in-game (and he is more sympathetic than most when finally given more internality in the book); it's essentially what Trent relies on to indoctrinate students. It's how the Vanguard recruits and it is, above all, what drives Ludinus and his generals and (reluctant, resentful) allies. It's why Kipperlily is one of D20's greatest villains, and why Calroy betrays in ACOC. Even more so than a thirst for power on its own without necessarily the accompaniment of this resentment (Goldenhoard, Avantika, Briarwoods pre-initial defeat, Chroma Conclave) this is portrayed as the enemy.

The thing about that resentment is that it relies on the villain forever portraying themselves as powerless, as just a little guy who you can't hit because they're just a little baby boy. As, as I said last night, an NPC rather than someone with immense agency. It's a lie; don't fall for it. It's true that with great power comes great responsibility, but with any small amount of power does come small responsibility. This resentment essentially is an abdication of that responsibility to take what you have and try to improve things, and instead focusing on how everything is someone else's fault. And something I love about actual play, since power through agency is indeed at its core, is that this abdication of responsibility is consistently portrayed as something terrible.

[serxinns]

Yandere mha x scarket witch reader: baby Reader headcanons

This is a alternate route to big sis eri but if aizawa and class 1a takes care of baby reader

•In the middle of the battle you were fighting a time villain you and a few of your classmates were chasing the vision You caught up to the villain and dropkicked him and pinned him down but he used his quirk on you and you felt dizzy and all you heard was footstep fainting of the villain running off

•shoji was trying to look for you when he saw your hero costume on the alleyway ground he panicked when he saw the clothes started moving but to his surprise, it was a naked toddler under the clothes starting at him *Y/n..?" Shoji said slowly going closer to you and picking you up in his arms when he saw the familiar hawks keychain he instantly knew it was you so he wrapped you in arms and tentacles and took you to where the rest of the class is

•The class surrounded Shoji, emotions was in a mix of shock, awe, and adoration at the cute baby toddler that is their darling "Kyaaa!!! Y/n Chan is so cute!!!" Mina squealed while the rest of the girls started cooing and pitching your little cheeks while the boys glared jealously "Hey let us have a turn!" Kirishima said trying to go towards but you but jirou stopped him "what makes you think you get to hold them I know them better" "Lies! they know me more" Sero glared back at jirou "YOU DUMBASSES ARE ALL WRONG I KNOW THEM BETTER" Bakugo snarled at your classmates which makes them have a war of who gets to hold you it all stopped when you were wrapped around in tape and was pulled to your teacher mister aizawa

•"If nobody can agree then I might as well will take care of them" the class uproared in anger saying how it wasn't fair and shouting at him but was quickly quieted down when Aizawa threatened to give them all detection they all grumbled and scowled and went back into their seats defeated

•At training, you were playing with his scarf giggling and laughing a lot while Aizawa had a small smirk on his face unaware that a red-winged hero was watching them He swooped down and grabbed the toddler off with a "Yoink" out of Aizawa's hands and flew cradling the child while letting them play with their feather "Sorry cranky but ill be taking them for a while~" Hawks said with a playful smirk hearing the rest of the class panic and shocked Trying to tell him to put you down but it was too late the hr Flew off out of their sights and into the clouds Aizawa was furious how DARE he steal his child away from him But he realized an idea he saw his classmates panicking find a way to get you but in a lone eerie tone he said

"Whoever recruits y/n and gives them to me gets to spend time with them and gets extra credit"

•While Your Crazy dad and 20 of his classmates hunting after you, hawks took you to his agency where Mirko and Fatgun were there and standing like "Wtf?! 💀" he explained how you were hit with a time rewind quirk while mirko was pinching your cheeks and fatgum was making funny faces

•After a little argument about who gets to take care of you they decided to share and team up they took you to get some food and toys they spoiled TF out of you Mount lady Wanted to dress you in many matching outfits and take lots of pictures like those mommy and child family photos fatgum brought you a McDonald's kids meal and was entertaining you by making silly faces which made you giggle a lot they bless their poor little hearts

•It was all dandy until hawks heard his name being called in fury and surprise surprise! it was Aizawa along with mic, midnight and all might and your classmates also decided to work together and they were all PISSED and now it's Pros vs teachers vs students

•Cue the epic fight scene

•While the fight between Pros and the students increased nezu thought it was the perfect time to sneak you away and lock himself in his own office to spend time with you long story short he announced how everyone including the Pros was punished the students had to get detection, the Teachers get no breaks and the pros the pros a suspension while nezu happy that gets to spend time with you until the quirk wears off safe to say that Nezu won

[obriengf]

hiya! can yous do Mitch & 6 please ?

thanks 🩷

send me a prompt for some oblivious love blurbs ✩ Notes: weirdly obsessed with his shoulders right now

MISCOMMUNICATION

Mitch Rapp was difficult to understand; signals were crossed and mixed to the point where a blur was left behind, emotions swinging left and right as they failed to settle, and looks that were longing one second before harnessing avoidance the next. You didn't know whether he was coming or going and it pulled so much harder at your heart than you ever anticipated it would. You didn't think that falling for such a man would leave you awake at night, constant thoughts running through your mind about the things he said or did - trying to analyse their meanings, trying to find even a slither of hope that there was something worthwhile there. He made butterflies flutter, but he could also make them sink. Coldness stemming from his neutral gaze had the capacity to suddenly warm and light up the space you surrounded yourself in. He would soothe any stresses you had with his undivided attention, or leave you so utterly alone to lick at your wounds in silence. Mitch Rapp was an enigma, which both hurt and healed you. And for some reason, you loved him for it. For all of it.

You were trained to be robotic; every move was calculated to an exact second, every thought confident and assured before being acted upon. Mistakes weren't just frowned upon, they were inexcusable, and a single minuscule hair out of place was enough to brand one as atrociously disreputable in the eyes of the Central Intelligence Agency. But it wasn't until you were behind closed doors and the thrill of your mission was over, that you managed to exhale out the craziness and finally be human again. The past few days had been difficult - Portugal had worn you down, and the fresh scar draped from the edge of your ribs to the crease of your hip had only just started to heal. The skin was still raw as it sported a flushed shade of pink, but the suture that had taken years to properly perfect was holding together nicely. You had difficulty moving about, and usually, it wouldn't bother you as the mission was over, but right now you'd do anything in this moment to escape your hotel room. With squinted eyes, you cringed from the raising pitch of your partner's voice - the tone booming as it chastised you. The 'blame-game' was one that you never won, and even though you tried, you couldn't even cheat your way into the winning circle. You were underneath a spotlight and you hated it, despite only the two of you occupying the temporary living space. Mitch had started, and he hadn't planned on stopping until his point got across. "Are you out of your fucking mind!?" He yelled, the small space you sat within only amplifying the delivery even more. This Mitch was the one that you often saw clouded by cold tones and closed-off personalities. It's the one that made you walk on eggshells and question everything you had said or done priorly that day. It's the one that told you what you should have done, and not praised what you had done right. This Mitch was the one that you had first met when he had been a recruit, and all of that trauma that led him to you was still buried so deep inside his tortured heart and mind. You could never tell if he was being protective of himself, or of you. He is different to the Mitch that you saw a few days ago, however. This one was scared, frozen in place as he watched a knife aim for your stomach but instead drag down your side. His eyes had grown wide with worry as you collapsed in a small puddle of your blood, and his touch was delicate and gentle as it cupped at your cheeks and told you that everything will be okay. This Mitch scooped you into his arms and took you somewhere safe, with his own hands trembling in fear. He embodied warmth and care, and for a second you swore you saw his baby-brown eyes glaze with nervous tears. You were hastily brought back to your hotel room as you heard Mitch groan loudly, his rant continuing as he overlooked how you momentarily spaced out. Your focus flicked up to him as his hands tugged roughly at his growing locks, brows furrowed and voice raspy from the exertion, "You need to be more careful! What the hell was going through your damn head!? Everything was going according to plan and you had to go rogue? Are you fucking serious?! You could've died! " "Then why didn't you just leave me there if I'm such a damn liability then, Mitch?" You were tired. He had let you rest since the mission had been completed, successfully, but in true Mitch Rapp fashion, he still had to tell you what you had done wrong. He grunted at your comment, nostrils flaring as he seemed to briefly consider whether to continue lashing out. You watched as his left hand balled into a fist, veins protruding up the back of his hand and over his wrist, as he channelled his emotions into the tension of his curled hand. The man eventually released the hold after his knuckles grew white, only to point a stern finger in your direction, "I never leave people behind. I especially would never leave you behind, don't you ever say that."

Your head shook as your tongue clicked, perplexed over his conflicting temperaments, "I don't understand what you want from me!" Your own voice rose, surprising Mitch as much as it did you as you both jumped ever so slightly. The room fell quiet for the first time since he barged through your door. The shrill of your voices had died and was instead replaced with heavy breaths and a staring contest between two sets of sad and confused eyes.

Mitch tilted his head in bewilderment, an ask for you to elaborate before you continued with an exasperated sigh, "It's always Good -Cop Bad-Cop with you. One minute, you can be the sweetest man I've ever met who would do anything to make me laugh, or smile. And then, other times y-you're just a whole different person, like all of your walls are suddenly back up and you have a fucking grudge against the world like a goddamn moody teenager!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He was taken aback, voice leaving breathless as he took a tentative step closer to you. Not that he could pretend - Mitch knew that the hot-cold treatment was cruel, but he couldn't help it. Emotion to Mitch Rapp usually held a capacity for pure anger and revenge, but being with you allowed him to open up to many more possibilities. It terrified him, and he had been in such a slump for so long that he didn't know what to do. But he did need you, he needed his light.

"Just tell me what's going on, Mitch! Because it's so fucking hard to read you sometimes and it makes me want to tear my hair out and scream -"

"I LOVE YOU!" His voice echoed once more, the sentiment ringing through the enclosed space. Whisky-coloured hues glazed as his heart became exposed, laying out raw for you to see. Your expression harnessed shock and the lack of response made his laugh hollow and brittle. Mitch shook his head, focusing now on the scruffed toes of his shoes, "I'm in love with you. I thought you knew - "

"No, I didn't." You managed to say with whispered words, observing how the usually confident man in front of you now sank and closed in on himself. He was shutting down, drained from your fight and from the roller-coaster of the past few days. He already thought he was going to lose you when he felt the fresh warmth of your blood run through his fingers only a mere few days ago, but now, he might've just lost you as a staple in his life for good.

Silence had returned, yet it rang the loudest of anything else within that room that night. You had always expected that you'd fall for Mitch Rapp - how could you not? He had his moments of hilarity, amusing you when things got a bit dim or when mischievousness wove itself into his boredom. He held passion proudly like a medal when his interests were at play, showing just how he can truly immerse himself into hobbies or things that he liked. He was tough, both mentally and physically, and it was admirable to see how he would always stand up after being knocked down. He was also sweet when he wanted to be - even when he was raising his voice, purely exposing his protectiveness. Plus, he definitely wasn't bad to look at either.

What you didn't expect, however, was for him to have fallen for you, too.

"I hadn't even thought of loving anybody after Katrina died." His voice broke the barrier, eyes still peering down. Mitch drew a breath, his exhale shaky as he tried to gather himself, "I mean, I always seem to lose the people I love, and she was the last straw." The man cleared his throat as his hand ran back through his already teased hair, his stress evident, and he suddenly peered up at you, "Until a pain in my ass was elected my partner, and became so incredibly annoying that I began to find it endearing. Before I knew it, I was dreaming of life after all of this agent bullshit, married with kids, the whole white-picket-fence ordeal. And we were so damn happy."

A sweet smile shone his way through quivering lips and matching teary eyes. You held out your hand, desperate to have his hold ground you as Mitch's fingers slid between yours and he squeezed with complete adoration.

He licked his lips, "I'm sorry for yelling. I was just scared that I'd lose you, like I did the others. Because if anything happened to you, sweetheart, I swear - "

"You'd burn down the world?" You interjected a small chuckle from Mitch solidifying your correct choice of words.

"You have no idea just what I'd do for you." His other hand reached out to push back the small strands crowding your forehead, calloused fingertips never feeling so soft against your skin before. "I thought it'd be easier to shut you out, if I'm being honest... If I didn't love you, then it wouldn't hurt. But let's be fucking real, that's just impossible."

Pieces fell into place with perfect precision the moment your arms secured around his neck, your nose pushed into his shoulder, and his grip securing tightly around your waist. This moment was one filled with clarity and understanding, a mutual passion that cleared the air and prompted harmonising beats of hearts against two flushed chests.

"I bet it'd be even more impossible, since I love you, too." Your voice muffled against the worn cotton of his shirt, but Mitch heard you. His shoulders sunk in comfort, arms tightening even more, and the light of his life growing brighter with each and every passing second.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Photo Finish

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: I don't really have words for this. @desert-fern and I were chatting about Hangman thots. And this spilled out of my brain.

Warnings: This is just porn. Porn with Plot. Consume at your own risk.

Word Count: 6484

A/N: This is dedicated to @desert-fern, @dakotakazansky and @horseshoegirl! Read and enjoy the thots my darlings!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

It is an unforgiving job, working as a photographer. You'd been all over the world taking pictures for exposes, portraits of world leaders, and scenery. You could name a print material with a portrait on the cover and say you'd taken a picture of that kind. 

It's your first time in New York after six months of working on assignment after assignment for your agency when you're called into your boss’s office and ordered to get a studio ready. You're expecting a shot with supermodels or perfumes. Hell, you've even taken photos of cans of dog food. You're not expecting to hear that the client is the U.S. Navy. Not at all.

The U.S. Navy's recruitment numbers have fallen to an all-time low. They're looking for a propaganda vehicle or five to kickstart recruitment. They've ordered a squadron of pilots to fly to New York and have professional portraits taken. It had been decided it was too risky to have civilian photographers on base, so your company had rented a colossal hangar from the airport for one day. The squadron and their jets would land tonight, and the shoot would happen tomorrow. The information has you reeling and more than a little flustered. The U.S. Navy? As a client? That’s huge. This assignment could make or break your whole career. How do you even start? This shoot is on an awfully quick turnaround for something so big.

Your mind is spinning, thinking of how you could make these spreads work. To begin your prep work, you go to your office, collecting your assistant, stylists, makeup artist, and lighting coordinators. Once everyone is clustered around your office, you fire up your computer and display pictures of each aviator. The Navy has selected six aviators for this spread; they’re all gorgeous. And per the sanitized dossiers you hand out to your team to read, each has risked their lives to serve their country. Of the five men on the dossiers, one keeps catching your attention. His name is Jake, Jake Seresin, and his eyes pierce into you even through the low-quality picture you’ve been given.

“Alright. So how do we do this? The Navy asked for shots of each aviator and their plane in flight suits and uniforms. We’ll have all four jets in the hangar with us tomorrow. Additionally, I want to explore who they are as people. So I think we’ll also do shots of them in formal wear. As a last step, we’ll tie into their sex appeal and do shots of the boys in their flight jackets and dog tags with no shirts. For Lieutenant Trace, I thought we could explore the duality she naturally poses as a highly decorated female Naval Aviator. How does that sound? Any ideas for how we can accomplish that? Start pulling pieces on racks in the bullpen. I want to do a final review of all of the options at 4 o’clock.”

Your stylists, Adam and Lea, are already huddled up and discussing pieces to pull for the formal wear shoot. You can see an unholy gleam in Lea’s eyes as she finds pieces for Lieutenant Trace to wear for the sex appeal shot on her tablet. You grin at their enthusiasm before turning to your lighting techs.

“Seb, Kris. I want you both to head out to the hangar today. I don’t know what the lighting is going to look like. Feel free to start setting up the lighting for the shoot tomorrow. But don’t lock anything down. We’re going to have to share our space with the planes.”

You turn to your assistant, Amy. 

“Ames, go with them. Get an idea of the space we have to deal with. Measurements would be useful. Start visualizing areas where we could lay out a backdrop to do a set of pics without the planes in the background. Scope out everything — the facilities, where we could set up changing booths, a refreshments table, etc. We’ll also probably need to coordinate deliveries from the usual food platters and drinks places. Get an assortment of things that would apply to any dietary restrictions you can think of.”

With that, you turn to the last member of your team, your makeup artist. 

“Hey, Katie. We will want to keep the makeup for this shoot subtle and touch up any blemishes and under-eye circles. That should be it for the boys, but we’ll want to do something eye-catching for the formal wear portion for Lieutenant Trace. So pack accordingly. Go ahead if you want, and head to the hangar with Ames so you can coordinate placement for the makeup station.”

You call your team to attention by ringing the small gong on your desk.

“We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today. Call me for anything you need. This shoot is important for the studio, and we will have many eyes on us. Here are the credentials for the hangar. Measurements for the aviators are included in the dossier packets. For the formal wear portion of the shoot, pick coordinating colors except for Lieutenant Trace. Good luck!”

The rest of your morning is spent coordinating with the Navy Liasion. During your lunch break, you head to the hangar and help your team as they work there. You pick up sandwiches and drinks for everyone and drop some off for Adam and Lea. You reach the hangar at 1:30 and use your credentials to let yourself in. Unsurprisingly, the hangar is a hive of activity. Amy’s marking down placement points near the bathrooms with a measuring tape, and Katie’s getting a vanity plugged in and organizing her equipment.

Meanwhile, Seb and Kris are testing the lighting. A large swath of the Hangar floor is as yet empty. A clear path has been left from the hangar doors to the open area. The open area is where four F/A-18A Super Hornets are going to sit. You call your team to grab their lunches and catch up with Amy on her progress. It’s your first time delegating so much of the admin work to Amy since she’s the newest on the team, and you’re ecstatic with her progress.

She’s gotten everything organized, including the food and beverage deliveries. When a pair of workmen back in a truck containing the backdrop and the changing rooms, you supervise as they build them and place them where you want them. They’ve just started assembling the backdrop when your phone rings. You step into the afternoon sunshine to take the call. It’s the Navy Liasion. He’s calling to inform you that the squadron will be landing shortly. Sure enough, you can just hear the engines as you hang up and bolt indoors. Amy’s just sending the workmen on their way as you help your team clear the open areas of the hangar and stand near the open hangar door. 

You can feel the thrum of the engines as Four F/A-18As fly in formation and finally land in all their glory. They’re beautiful machines. You can smell the stink of the jet fuel and feel the heat from the engines as they roll into the hangar. The next moments are full of frantic activity as the flight crews help ensure the jets are safely landed. Once all the furor has died down, you finally reach where the aviators have descended from their jets. They’re examining your team's work with eagle eyes that dart to your person as you step closer, your heels echoing as you make your way to the jets. 

They’re even more gorgeous than their pictures indicated, even sweaty with helmet hair as they are. As one, they line up in front of you and salute, introducing themselves with their rank, full name, and callsign. You can hear Amy and Katie’s giggles from behind you as you introduce yourself and your team. The entire time you lay out the plan for the following day, you can feel a set of eyes boring into the side of your face. All the aviators are staring right at you, but Lieutenant Seresin makes you feel like squirming. His green eyes stay on you as you show them the different areas in the hangar and explain the order of the day. Thankfully, they leave the hangar shortly after you tell them their call time for the next morning. 

A couple of hours later, everything is ready to go, thanks to Amy, Seb, Kris, and Katie. The corner near the bathroom has two changing rooms set up. Nearby are spaces for the racks of clothing and the makeup station. It will be perfect for the photoshoot you have in mind. The concrete floors are a little chilly, so you text Lea and ask her to add some of the rugs from storage to the truck. You send her a snap of the current layout so she and Adam know what they’re walking into the following morning. You know she and Adam will pick something that complements the gunmetal gray of the planes and the clothing they’re selecting. Before long, you and your team are packed into the back of two Ubers and heading back to the studio for the final part of your day, evaluating the clothing Adam and Lea have picked.

You’re satisfied as you head home that night. Your team has done an amazing job, and the only thing you have to do is pack your cameras and lenses. You carefully wipe and pack each lens and each camera, working as quickly as possible since you have to be at the hangar with an early 6 AM call time. Amy’s picking up the coffee and breakfast deliveries at 7, and the Squadron will show up at 8 AM sharp.

When your alarm goes off at half past four the next morning, you feel barely rested. Your hair is a bird’s nest atop your head, and your eye bags could put a raccoon to shame.  But you’ve got a busy day ahead of you, so you gulp a scalding cup of coffee and walk zombie-like into your shower. Forty-five minutes later, you’re dressed in a smart blouse and pencil skirt with heels on your feet and bleary but ready to face the day. You’ve thrown your hair into a French braid snaking down your back and left your makeup and jewelry simple to avoid causing unforeseen sparkles and shadows when Kris and Seb turn the lights on.

Your team has just reached the hangar when you step in. All the lights are on in the early morning haze, and you’re immediately swept up in the preparations. It’s like you’re needed everywhere. You only get fifteen minutes to lay out your camera equipment and hook up the cameras to your laptop before you’re pulled into last-minute adjustment after last-minute adjustment. It feels like barely any time has passed when the aviators swagger through the open hangar door. They’re dressed in khaki uniforms, each holding a hanger with a leather flight jacket.

Adam and Lea direct them to leave their garment bags on an open rack, and you’re off to the races. You start with individual shots of each aviator with their plane and then against the backdrop. You’ve cued up a playlist of Top-40 hits, and you can’t help humming along as you snap away. As expected, it takes a bit for the aviators to warm up to being photographed. Two, Lieutenants Bradshaw and Seresin, take to posing for the camera like a fish out of water. Lieutenant Fitch follows shortly after them. Then all you needed to get Fanboy to cut loose was get him talking about his favorite tv show. You don’t mind the onslaught of Star Trek facts and figures because Lieutenant Mickey Garcia is adorable once you get him smiling and dancing to the songs playing. 

That leaves you with Lieutenants Trace and Floyd. Lieutenant Floyd goes next, and the first thing he does when he sees you holding the camera is blush. The bashful look on his face makes a soft squeal slip out of Amy’s mouth, and you side-eye your assistant with your fiercest glare to get her to chill out. Thankfully, Lea drags her away to help with some of the clothing. There’s no need to make the sweetheart even more uncomfortable. Much like Lieutenant Garcia, you try to get him talking. And it works, at least until Lieutenant Seresin opens his mouth and says,

“C’mon, Baby On Board. A pretty girl’s taking your picture, and you can’t even smile? This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, at least for you. You should enjoy it while it lasts.”

You can feel your blood pressure rising at how rude he is and are about to open your mouth to tell him to get out of your field of vision when Lieutenant Floyd does it himself.

“Why, Bagman? Are you afraid that if I start posing for real, all the girls will dump you as fast as possible for me instead?”

You have to stifle your giggles as Lieutenant Seresin blinks wide-eyed at Lieutenant Floyd before walking away. 

“That’s a great idea, Bob!” Lieutenant Trace is never one to leave an opportunity to cheer on her WSO.

That’s what breaks the ice between you and Lieutenant Floyd. You feel his solo plane shots have turned out better than the others. The final aviator in uniform to photograph is Lieutenant Trace. But no matter what you do, you can’t get her to loosen up. 

“Alright, everyone. Let’s take fifteen. Adam and Lea, can you get the Lieutenants in their formal wear while I finish up with Lieutenant Trace?” 

That clears the gentlemen away and leaves you and Lieutenant Trace by the planes. That’s when you finally see a fraction of the tension she holds in her shoulders drain away. She’s still standing stiffly but no longer in full parade rest. You turn the music up, put on ABBA, and pray that the music finally gets her to unwind. It takes a bit, and Lieutenant Bradshaw, now wearing a navy blue tuxedo, wiggling his hips to the beat but unwind she does. He gives you a wink before shimmying away. You can see the rest of your team laughing as the aviators pull out their silliest dance moves. 

After finishing up Lieutenant Trace’s final uniform pictures, you leave her in Lea and Katie’s capable hands and start taking the solo shots of the men. They’re all dressed in navy blue tuxedos with white shirts and shiny black dress shoes. There isn’t a tie in sight, and the jackets are perfectly tailored to their figures. You can’t help the impressed looks you give them and mentally note to compliment Lea and Adam later. Everything is going well until you start to see slack-jawed looks where the lieutenants had been smoldering into the camera. You turn and grin satisfactorily as Lieutenant Trace steps forward. Lea had selected a gorgeous crimson and burgundy gown, and Katie had chosen to leave her hair in loose curls. You’re not surprised at the boys’ awe. She looks breathtaking and like her callsign in all its fiery glory. The contrasting color combinations as she joins the boys look fantastic in the pictures. 

The final set of pictures happens after a lunch break. The gentlemen are only too eager to slip off their shirts, though you can hear Bob pleading with Lea to spare him. You wish him luck, as you know from experience that Lea’s not one to give in easily. The only other aviator who looks discomfited is Lieutenant Trace. You pull her aside.

"Lt. Trace. How would you feel about doing a shot wearing just one of the men's jackets, some heels, and jewelry? You don’t have to wear one that one of the guys has worn today. Lea and Adam brought plenty of spares."

"Please, call me Natasha. And no. I'm not doing that."

"Natasha, I have a feeling I know why, but would you tell me?" Her shoulders surround her ears as you try to reason with her.

"I'm not going to wear that just to act as the sole piece of eye candy in this group. I got here by working just as hard, if not harder, than all of them. I won't negate all my hard work with a pin-up pose on Navy propaganda."

"Thank you for telling me that. I'm not going to pressure you into doing this. But, I would like to bring one item to your consideration. You think taking a picture like this will negate your hard work. Doesn't that negate your inherent sense of femininity? You're a fighter pilot. Yes. One of the best of the best. But you're also a woman. And to me, that's one of your biggest strengths. Girls walking into Navy recruitment offices deserve to know they can be kick-ass officers and beautiful too.”

You take a breath, cataloging the emotions flitting across her face.

“I'm not asking you to do this shot because you're beautiful. As we both know, you are. I'm asking you to do this shot to show the world that you can be one of the best and still be feminine. Be strong and delicate. Sweet and savage. I want you to show the world that serving your country doesn't mean you have to only act like men. Women can serve and do everything that a man can without compromising anything. Be it their looks, their career, or their femininity."

Your words have resonated with her. You can see the figurative light bulb go off in her head as she resolutely nods, gathers up the skirts of her gown, and walks right towards Lea like a woman possessed. You grin and proceed with taking shots of the others. But this time, it’s Lieutenant Seresin that you’re having problems with. He’s stiff like his charm has melted away. You switch to the others and finish their shots easily. Even Natasha stuns in just the oversized blazer. You take a break and review the pictures on your laptop. They’re all perfect. You’ll need a day or so to clean up any small defects, but other than that, they’re exactly what you were looking for. The Navy will be pleased with the results, you hope.

You just need this one set of pictures from Lieutenant Jake Seresin, callsign Hangman, and you can finally go home and take off your heels and bra. Your irritation grows as you attempt to take the pictures you need five times. Your groan of exhaustion and irritation is far longer and louder than it should be. That’s when you start dismissing your team and the Daggers.

“Head on out, all of you. We have to clean up the hangar by the day after tomorrow when the Daggers leave. I will finish up these photos with Lieutenant Seresin, and we should be following you shortly.”

The Daggers all scramble to change, and it's less than half an hour later when you say farewell as the Daggers and your team file out the Hangar door and close it behind them. That’s when you’re left alone with the one man who’s been driving you crazy all day. You try, futilely, to get him to pose how you want, but no matter what you say and how you move him, the pictures don't turn out like you want them to. 

Partway through the latter half of the photo shoot, you'd switched to having all of the Daggers standing against the backdrop. You're regretting that decision now. 

You're done, and the blonde idiot is just standing there and smirking at you. In the studio light, you can see every ridge of his abs and the downy hair dotting his torso. You kick your heels off and let your hair out of its braid. After so long in the tight braid, it feels great to let your scalp relax.

You stalk up to Lieutenant Seresin and grab hold of his arm.

"Right. Let's make this easy on both of us. I will position you how I want you, and you won't move. Okay?"

"Darlin', just tell me to jump, and I'll ask you how high."

And now he's trying to flirt with you. Great. You roll your eyes and position his head and arms as you want him. This close, you can smell his cologne, the cedar and plum scent wafting from his skin. It's an expensive scent that is ever so inconsistent with his personality. Thankfully he doesn't fight you as you position him. 

You could cry. You're so relieved. You are finally getting the needed pictures, and Lieutenant Seresin is cooperating. His eyes still track you as you stalk barefoot back and forth from the laptop to the lights, all with your camera in tow as you make small adjustments. But you don't feel their weight as self-consciously anymore. 

In the final pose, you press on his stomach to get him to straighten his back, and your entire world seems to freeze. His abs are taut, the light dusting of hair soft against your fingers as you glance up at his face. His lips are bitten red as his eyes peer into you. It's electric being this close to him. Something is yearning in his eyes when you step away and take the final pictures. 

Your face is hot as you walk back to the table with your laptop and examine the pictures. You're exhausted, but you've finally done it. Of all the pictures, Lieutenant Seresin's looks the best. His photos exhibit strength, passion, and raw sexuality, exposing a stripe of his taut torso and dog tags. 

"Damn, darlin'. I knew you were a good photographer when I looked up your work before we flew to New York for this, but I had no idea how good you were. These pictures. They're something else."

You startle at his voice, emanating from near your ear, and jolt out of your seat. You nearly fall, but he catches you, steadying you with an arm wrapped around your waist. You gulp as you’re pressed against his chest. He's so close that you can count the flecks of gold swimming in his green eyes. You can't keep your gaze from trailing over his face, from his eyes down to his lips, and back up again. 

"Sweetheart, tell me if I'm reading you wrong, but it looks like you want to kiss me. And I know I want to kiss you. I have since I saw you for the first time yesterday."

You can't keep yourself from nodding at his words. But he's watching you like a hawk and catches your movements. So it's hardly a surprise when he trails his other hand up your side and pinches your chin before slanting his mouth over yours. 

He kisses as he flies, you think. Precise and pointed, each brush of his tongue against your calculated to make your cunt clench and throb with need. You're wet, embarrassingly so. He doesn't pull away until your lips are swollen from the rough kiss. 

Your chest heaves as he traces his finger across your lips. He's got a smug smirk on his face. You pull away from him, carefully selecting your video camera from all your camera equipment, and return to his plane. You turn on the lights, dimming them until there is just enough light to throw the area in the jet's shadow in relief in your camera, hit record, and beckon him to come to you.

"Lieutenant, it's been a bit since I've had some fun. What would you say if I suggest we make a movie?"

His grin is salacious as he lets the leather jacket fall to the ground and tugs you back into his arms.

"Baby, it'd be my pleasure."

Your answering laugh transforms into a moan as he kisses roughly down your throat, paying special attention to your pulse point. His talented hands trail up and down your waist, nimble hands rucking your blouse up from your skirt until he can finally touch your bare skin. Your moans as he traces patterns across your ribs are muffled in his kiss.

"Jake."

Your voice is breathy and high as you try to get his mouth back on yours. But when you look at his face, something is commanding in his gaze.

"Take your shirt off, baby. Let me see what you're wearing."

You tug your shirt off, thankful there aren't any buttons or ties to impede your progress. Jake’s groan at the sight of the lace covering your breasts sends goose bumps over your skin.

His voice is reverent as he walks around you.

"God, baby. You killed me this morning. Wearing that pretty little skirt and those high heels. I wanted to bend you over and fuck you until you were leaking my cum."

He stops before you, pressing his thumb between your parted lips. He dips it in until it's wet with your pooling saliva and drags it down your throat. His finger drags over the soft flesh of your breasts, leaving a cool, damp trail as he pays special attention to the peaks of your nipples. 

He continues walking, stopping at your back and dragging you in until your back is flush against his chest. He positions you with both hands until you're centered with the camera. He keeps up a filthy litany of praise as he carefully uses his thumbs to drag your bra cups down, sending your tits spilling free. His hands immediately find their way to fondle and caress them, calloused fingers kneading and squeezing until your hips are canting unconsciously, searching for additional stimulation. 

His smile is filthy when he finally pulls you away, intertwining your fingers with his and leading you to his plane.

"Put your hands on my plane, baby. And whatever you do, don't take them off."

You can't resist your soft moan as you do exactly what he says after unfastening your bra. You can't see his face, but you can feel his lips in the hollow behind your ear as he grinds his stiff cock against your ass. 

"Stay there, baby. Gonna take these trousers off so you don't get in trouble if we make a mess."

Your nipples are pebbled in the cool air as you wait for Jake to return to you. You can hear the clink of the belt buckle and the rustle of fabric as he drags the garment off before padding back to you. His hands trail teasingly over your sensitive skin as he brackets your waist. His thumbs rub soothingly at your waist as he peppers kisses across your bare shoulders. Jake then carefully drags the zip at the back of your skirt down and eases it off your hips.

It pools to the ground at your feet, and you shudder at the feeling of his hand on your ass as he collects it and sets it on a chair in your line of sight. He's gorgeous. You can see every line of his muscles and the bulge of his erect cock in his boxers. The only thing you're wearing now is your thong. He slides the flimsy lace off, and that's when you feel his breath across your hole.

"Oh, baby. You're so wet. Wet for your Lieutenant, huh?"

He blows a stream of air over you, and you can feel your hole clench at the sensations. 

"What do you want me to do to you, baby? How do you want to cum? On my tongue? On my fingers? On my cock? You gotta tell me, sweetheart."

Your voice is breathy as you babble, "All of them, Jake! I want your tongue, your fingers, and your cock. It's been so long since I came. Please!"

He kisses your shoulder before kneeling and burying his tongue between your thighs. Each brush has you practically sobbing with pleasure. It's been so long since you came that it's only a few minutes before his tongue brings you to the brink of your orgasm. You're already chanting his name, your moans echoing through the hangar.

"Cum," he growls, his mouth still sealed to your cunt, and you're only too happy to comply, your hands scrabbling for something to squeeze on as you ride out the waves of your orgasm on his tongue.

He pulls away after a few minutes and turns you around. His mouth is on you instantly, nipping at your breasts before he kisses you hard. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh as you sink to your knees and free him from the constricting fabric.

It's only fair that you return the favor. So you start with kitten licks flicking across the head of his cock. Each tender pass of your tongue has him moaning. It's not long before his hands find their way into your hair, holding the loose strands in a ponytail at the back of your head. You use the extra leverage to begin deep-throating him in earnest. You use as much suction and saliva as possible, moaning wantonly as he fucks your mouth. His pants and grunts send heat pooling into your cunt as he approaches his orgasm. But before you can convince him to come on your tongue, he jerks himself off over your tits, spurting his release over your skin in hot thick ribbons.

There is a feral look in his eyes at the sight of you like that on your knees, and Jake lopes over to your cameras, carefully grabbing one. He drapes his dog tags around your neck and carefully snaps pictures of the pearl necklace he'd given you. He lays the camera onto the chair before coming back to you.

"Do you still want me to fuck you?"

"Yes." Your consent is less words and more a cock-drunk mewl, but Jake interprets it correctly.

"Can you get on all fours for me?"

You're only too eager to comply, positioning yourself under his eager hands as he takes his spot against your ass.

"I don't have any condoms, baby. How do you want to do this?"

"I'm on the pill, Jake. Please, fuck me. Fuck me raw."

He groans before pressing himself inside you. The slow drag of his big cock as it presses into you has your pulse racing. Jake keeps the pace purposefully slow, using his hands at your hips to hold you still as he deliberately fucks into you. It's so good that each press has you screaming, and you've long since reached the cliff of your orgasm. But what Jake's giving you just isn't enough. That's when you start wiggling your hips to meet his thrusts.

The first heavy smack of his palm against your ass has you freezing completely, caught in the pain-pleasure-pain sensation his hand is wringing out of you. The second has you moaning, your pussy fluttering around his length. His groan is near musical as he continues to smack your ass. Each smack brings you closer to your orgasm, and you're practically begging for it now. You wail when he begins to fuck you again in earnest. His balls smack against the hot skin of your ass as you finally let yourself cum. 

Your orgasm is so strong and intense that you black out. When you come to, you're cradled against Jake's chest, his hand tracing lazily over your back. You're both still under his jet. You prop yourself up on his chest with shaking arms and groan at the sensation of cum dripping out of you. It’s several long moments before you rise carefully on wobbly legs. But the sight you see when standing has your cunt clenching in need again. Jake’s torso is now covered in droplets of the mixture of both of your cum. You grab your camera and take a picture of that too.

Jake grins as he collects the bundle of your clothes and follows behind you to the bathroom. You can’t help the gasp leaving your lips as you see yourself in the mirror. He’s marked up your decolletage, and now is when you can feel the painful sting in your ass. 

“God, baby. Let me take a picture of your ass? It looks beautiful. You can see my whole hand on it.”

You groan as he presses a kiss against the sore cheek before positioning you and taking the pic. All you can see is the globe of your ass, the handprint, and the cascade of your hair down your back.

“Are you sure you didn’t pick the wrong calling, Jake?  You could’ve been a fantastic photographer if you’d chosen to.”

“Oh, I’m sure, darlin’. I love flying too much to regret my decision. And flying brought me to you.”

You grin before beginning to clean yourself up. Jake can’t resist kissing you, and you can’t resist kissing him back, either. Before long, you’re all clean and dressed in your underwear, blouse, and skirt again. Jake even has your shoes and chivalrously kneels to slide them onto your feet. He’s back in his trousers, this time sans the leather jacket. You can’t resist trailing your fingers across his skin and wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him. But you have to break away from him. You only add to his current look by slinging his dog tags around his neck.

Back in the hangar, you’re packing up your cameras after ensuring your home movie is saved when the door to the hangar opens. It’s a security guard, and you’re glad he didn’t pop in earlier.

“Hello, miss. I just wanted to check in and make sure everything is alright.”

“Yes, everything is fine, officer. I just finished a photo shoot with my last client, and we’ll leave shortly.”

"Alright, miss. We have to restrict access to the hangar at 11 pm. It's about 9:30 now, so finish up and head on your way."

You can hear Jake opening the curtain to the changing room behind you and can see the Officer's position stiffen as he catches sight of the medals on his breast.

"Sir, apologies, I wasn't aware that the client she mentioned was military."

He's falling over himself, and you can see the smug smirk on Jake's face as he grins and walks the officer out. You can't help grinning as you finish packing your lenses and begin unplugging your laptop after saving all the footage you’d captured today. You know Jake is back when you feel an arm wrap around your waist. You lean easily back into his expensive-smelling embrace and can't resist sagging against him for a few moments.

"It's been a long day, huh, darlin'?" He presses a kiss against your jaw. "Let's get you packed up and home."

You smile at the new, softer side of him and kiss his jaw.

"I'm all packed up. Walk me to my car?"

"'Course, sugar. Give me your camera bag. D'you need to check on anything else before we head out?"

You pad over to all the electrical outlets, hitting the switches on power strips to ensure nothing is still on. The final place you check via phone flashlight is the area under Jake's jet. You're wearing all of your clothing. You just want to make sure you haven't made a mess with your extracurricular activities.

"I cleaned it all up already, baby. It was when you were knocked out after your orgasm." 

You startle, having grown used to his presence over the past few hours.

"Then let's head out?" 

You relinquish your camera bag to him, keeping your oversized tote on your shoulder as the two of you stride out of the hangar. You lead him to the small parking lot to the side and pop the trunk for your car, thankful you'd decided to drive to the airfield. 

"Let me give you a ride to your hotel. It's the least I can do after keeping you so late."

"Darlin', I should be thanking you. I haven't cum like that in a long time."

You've seen the man completely naked and writhed in pleasure at his touch. You shouldn't be so flustered in his presence. But you can't explain the catch in your breath as he opens the driver's side door for you before loping around to the passenger side and settling in. Everything between you and Jake doesn't feel like the aftermath of a hot frantic sexual encounter. It feels like a date.  You feel light and easy as you cruise back into the city. The silence between the two of you is comfortable. It’s not long before you drop him off in front of his hotel. He presses a kiss against your lips before swaggering in. And you head home to your small New York apartment, feeling the ghost of his presence as you go.

The next morning, you’re glad you chose to work from home because the first pictures you edit are the ones you’d taken of Jake and the ones he’d taken of you as well as your home movie. You can’t resist fingering yourself as your moans and his grunts spill out of your computer speakers. You don't have to do much editing there, but you carefully load the incriminating footage onto two flash drives — one for you and one for him. The photos for the Navy, too, are edited in no time flat. 

It's in the afternoon when you head into the studio. When you get in, you're surprised to see all the Daggers, your boss, your team, and two Admirals waiting for you. Your boss runs the show, introducing and greeting them before the floor is ceded to you. You show the assembled guests the pictures you'd taken for the Navy. 

The pictures are well received, especially the photos of Lieutenant Trace. You wink cheekily at her as Admirals Simpson and Mitchell praise the juxtaposition of those shots. As you show the last picture, you can finally breathe. Your boss is proud, especially as the Admirals turn to her and approve the pictures. But you have one final set of pictures to deliver.

"Lieutenant Seresin, apologies. I found this in my bag this morning. It was lying in the changing room when I looked through it to ensure everyone had taken their things. It must've fallen out of the pocket of your flight jacket."

His smirk is salacious as he accepts the flash drive from your hand, apologizing for leaving it there. You hand him a note, too, and leave the room. You would pay to see the look on his face when he sees what you’ve written on it.

Jake -  Thanks for last night. Call me the next time you're in New York. I'd love to do it again. It certainly was a photo finish. XXX - XXX - XXXX

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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[avoutput]

Ryan, Wade, Logan, and Hugh || Deadpool & Wolverine

I have been on a bit of hiatus from seeing films in the theater, but what always seems to bring me back is even the faintest hint of good action comedy or the glimmer of a return of some legacy. In Deadpool & Wolverine, you get the promise of both in a single package. But I waited so long because I was still apprehensive. It bothered me more as time went on because it was so well received, as of now I believe it's the highest grossing “R” rated film of all time. The public largely isn’t a good barometer of whether anything is good or not, certainly not the amount of money it brings in, and definitely not the collective critical conscience. Word of mouth from trusted sources. People you love to disagree with. When both of those sources agree you simply have to take a look. I brought one of those people I disagree with, my father. A man who claims to hate the profane, but indulges in all sorts of films with deeply profane language, especially ones starring cops or detectives. Still he has always had a love for the X-Men, for Wolverine, and the chance to see him in the iconic 90’s suit was enough of a draw despite his lack of interest in Deadpool. He sat through all the violence, all the gore, all the dirty innuendo, the implied buttsex, and the 4th wall nods to the camera. He was the balance to my indulgence, and as I glanced over at him, I saw in his stoic stare, fingers resting on his temples like he had a headache, just how much it bothered him to see the swearing and the gore, and I knew in that moment that we might have a home-run on our hand.

Out of the gate, I’ll go ahead and assure you that the spoilers for the film will be marked at the very end of the article, and the initial review will simply go over the main points and my thoughts on the film in general. All I can think about right now is how I wish I was clever enough to write a review in a voice that broke the 4th wall, if there is even such a thing. 

I am not sure if it's worth explaining the plot of the film, because it feels as though by design that it hangs around in the background, simply a vehicle for the jokes. Going into most action comedies, the driving force is usually the plot with the attached jokes along the way. With a franchise like Deadpool, forced to merge his well thought out and narrow franchise with Marvel, limited as it was by the copyright protections and constricted access to characters outside the Fox owned universe, you would be wise to be concerned that this wouldn’t be handled well. Even though both previous Deadpool films should have proved this creative team is a well oiled machine, I was still surprised by how well they merged their ideas into the Disney Marvel conglomerate. This film is constructed upside down, with the jokes being the engine and the plot being the fuel. Comic moments are designed in which the plot flows through them to create the momentum instead of the plot having appropriate jokes to follow the action. When the comic moments collide with the plot, you get these uniquely Deadpool action moments, with his masked smirk, potty mouth, and penchant for splitting bodies apart starting at the taint. It's quite an elegant display of talent that you don't see too often. If I had to make one thing clear, this action comedy redesign is the shining crown on Deadpool’s tight ass.

To satiate the curious, let me pour out the fuel for you, though common sense would tell you not to huff fumes, but it's your funeral. Wade Wilson is having another downer moment. In a desire to prove to himself that Deadpool is an important cog in the new Marvel Cinematic Universe he has found his way into, he tries to join the big leagues at Marvel headquarters. When he doesn’t make the cut, he gets depressed and the love of his life, Venessa, decides he needs to grow before their relationship can continue and moves out. Deadpool is then recruited by an interdimensional agency that keeps the multiverse from unraveling, which he is genuinely excited about. Only, the agency decided that Deadpool is the only thing left in his home universe that can be useful and relay to him they plan to destroy it prematurely. They plan to destroy it because the central character from his universe, Logan, perished heroically in a completely unchangeable Fox story cannon. Realizing the now dead Wolverine is the center of his home universe, Deadpool sets out across the multiverse to find the perfect Wolverine to replace his own so he can thwart the multiverse administrator villains and stop the destruction of his universe. Unfortunately, the only one he can find is a Wolverine that failed to live up to the legend of any other Wolverine’s from any other universe. This exhaustive story presentation is brought to you by the people who overthink Deadpool.

Brilliantly, this setup appears to be born out of conversations with a possibly real Disney boardroom. Disney appears to have told Ryan Reynolds and the Deadpool team that when James Mangold, director of Logan, closed the door on the X-Men universe when he put Logan out to pasture, and that all the other characters and creative choices across the Fox cannon were now worthless. Except for him. Ryan and Deadpool radiate star power, and Hugh Jackman had already confirmed he was done playing  the Wolverine. This transformation of real world conversations into compelling meta-narrative is the part that feels genius. Not only did they write a narrative to fit the world in which they were writing Deadpool, they found a way to make that an entertaining bedrock of their film. And then they flipped it one more time, made this narrative the background story, the fuel as it were, of the film instead of the engine. They made the comic moments the focus, the action the result, and their creative purpose the driving point. Like Deadpool on screen, the creative team wants to matter and maybe the only way for anyone to believe in them is for them to prove that all that creative work at Fox has more value than the Disney executives can possibly imagine. As a result, they spoke the one language any executive knows, that language translated to now 1 billion dollars in ticket sales. Creative work again saved by the power of capitalism. (I hope that hits with the irony intended. I am not in the Deadpool creative team.)

Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman are still sublime as their alter egos. They define these characters for an entire generation. As such, it should go without saying that they are incredible in their roles this time as well. In fact, every actor in this film hits pitch perfect notes on every joke, every line, every stroke. I’d list out the various actors, and their strengths, but some of them feel like spoilers and as a man of my word, I cannot betray your trust. My only personal complaint is the amount of blood and gore in this movie would make a Mortal Kombat fan blush. It was by a wide margin the only thing in the film I thought should be toned down. It was consistently distracting in almost every one of the action scenes to the point that I couldn’t even be sure of what was happening, especially when they really got things going. It made me wish for an “R” rated, light cut of the film. All the language, half the gore. The take away from this should be that the only bad thing about this film was how distracting the gore was. Imagine this horse I just beat to death is an example of how distracting the gore in Ryan & Hugh: BFF4Life was as a whole. Damn, that is a great turn of phrase and critique. Good job me.

I can’t lie to you though. Or maybe I just won’t lie to you. I left the film after this meta-narrative thinking that, while the film was great, it came with a lot of baggage. The fire to this fuel is mostly lit by knowing not just the catalog at Marvel, not just Fox, but the careers of the actors, the artists in the soundtrack, and a never ending myriad of collective popular culture knowledge as well. I can still remember sitting down in the year 2000 to see the first X-Men film in the Fox franchise. It was quaint by today's standards, and while fan service could be found in the film, it wasn’t created to specifically cater to the demands of fans or their knowledge. Its primary focus was to tell the classic X-Men story. Lucky for us, Fox attacked it with a kind of fever no one really expected at the time. Not quite as unique as Tim Burton’s Batman, and not quite as earnest as Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man, but it was grounded without being gritty. It was real. Just before that, Batman & Robin and its 60’s hokey aesthetic had basically closed the door on superhero films for a while, or that was how it seemed. But a slow build was happening adjacent to this with R rated features like Blade, a gorey mess that kept the hinges of that door oiled. Fast forward almost 25ish years and Deadpool & Wolverine turned all these creative successes (and failures) into their showcase for the executives at Marvel. In doing so, they had to throw everything in the entire backlog at us, for us and everyone who worked on those films. They asked fans to light the fire, but in doing so, they ended up having to make a film that relies on people in the future being cultural anthropologists, lighting their own torches as they dive deeper into the dank caves of our popular culture past. I think films should have some amount of presence in the present, but at this point, we are basically asking people in the future to understand an entire lifetime to truly capture the thrust of the film. 

And this time tunnel goes both ways. If you are my father’s age, a boomer disconnected with the now, there are a series of synapses that don’t fire. He may know a lot about X-Men, the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the history of mutants, all sorts of nerd culture, but I could see him lost in about every other word out of Ryan’s mouth. He may have been alive, he just wasn’t participating in pop culture beyond his 30’s. He just can’t connect to it. I fear that may be how people perceive this film in the future, and in fact this whole MCU. The MCU as a franchise is an overwhelming excess that rarely touches brilliance across its entire catalog. It's not like it is a new cinematic language either, but rather a recreation of what makes serial comics like those under the Marvel and DC banner so uninviting to newcomers. What I love about films of the past is that they may capture the moment, but not at the cost of the story and not at the cost of the future. It's helpful to know what was happening around the time of films like The Godfather or Apocalypse Now, but the films don’t misfire because of your lack of historical awareness. When Iron Man came out, it was alone. It set a tone for itself and it was completely free to do so. Future generations would better grasp the whole of the film with knowledge of the Iraq, Iran, and Afghanistan wars of its era, but the film doesn’t rely on this knowledge for its story and thus will have a stronger legacy.

That being said, even if it is stuck in the present, all cylinders are firing on this film, even if it's only because I know how the car works. I think it can still run without it, just like starting a car is a simple turn of the key or press of a button, I don’t need to understand how the engine works, but it helps. Ryan and Hugh have completely brought to life Deadpool and Wolverine as they were always intended to be, you’d think they were born to play the roles. I think that here and now, we can call this film a complete creative success, and that is truly set in stone, but I am subtracting a few points in my own cannon simply because I believe films should also preserve their point within the runtime of that single film's arc. They should be able to stand on their own, speaking the human condition without the baggage of complete cultural knowledge. A great film is both universal and timeless. But I can still love a good film. And maybe that’s enough. It's clear that the success of this creative endeavor is shared by the entire team, from the director, the actors, the writers, the camera operators, all the way down to the lowly grips. Maybe that will be clear to new people watching this film in 50 years. Maybe that will ring true across all the baggage, across all the jokes, across all of time. A collective creative success.

****SPOILERS****

The greatest spoiler is that I won’t burden you with any spoilers at all! No, no, I jest. But with a kernel of truth. This film has a never ending slew of celebrity cameos, all playing a few one off jokes, but ultimately, they aren’t really worth talking about in a review because they have very little consequence. The Marvel Universe usually has cameos for the purpose of creating branching paths, but that doesn’t really happen in Deadpool. Not really. It's like an Easter egg hunt where there are hundreds of eggs of all different sizes and colors and it's hard to really tell them apart or make any one of them more important than the other.

So let me share my favorite eggs with you. I really enjoyed the post credit sequence, making the final case for the creative passion that went into Fox's cinematic universe over the years. I really enjoyed seeing Wesley Snipes’ Blade turn the corner and make possibly his last appearance as Blade, with all the original swagger. The riff on Gambit’s accent was fun, and Channing Tattum really hit the mark, but still made you wonder if Gambit really ever stood a chance on the big screen. And finally, seeing most of the original X-Men and X-Men First Class series villains. I think the biggest loss was not seeing Nighcrawler or Mystique. But you can only do so much, and the film acknowledges that. So there we go. Remember to plug yourself like daddy Deadpool likes and thanks for reading!

[houseofbrat]

What do most people not understand about what it’s like to be a personal assistant to very rich people? A lot of people think, Oh, it’s red carpets and Lamborghinis, but most of your job is sitting behind a desk. Even when you’re on the road with a client, you’re isolated in many ways. One family I was traveling with for three months, they had profound inherited wealth and they just wanted privacy, even from each other. So we were getting these big villas that were very quiet. Each person would go to their own wing, with their own kitchenette and fridge, and we’d keep it stocked with what they wanted and they wouldn’t have to see anybody. Sometimes they would give me their phone and be like, “I don’t want to talk to anybody. If anything important comes in, deal with it.” And that might go on for days.

[...]

Why do you think people get stingy about these salaries when they have so much money? They delude themselves because when they put out a job opening, and it says $80,000, they get hundreds of applications. What they don’t understand is that it’s not about quantity, it’s about quality. When you hire people who are gawkers, who are opportunistic, who don’t have a lot of experience and will work for $80,000 to be in proximity to fame, you’re guaranteed to have problems down the line. Eventually, everything falls apart and people start suing. And when a celebrity or billionaire gets sued, they never win. They lose every single time. The case never goes to court because nobody wants their dirty laundry out there.

Another reason these people get stingy is that there’s some kind of psychological distortion that happens when everyone fawns over you all the time. The VIP’s mentality is, “Hey, this person should be paying me, because they get to be around greatness.” They’re used to having people want a piece of them. So they think that the job is such an amazing opportunity that they shouldn’t have to pay the person what they’re actually worth. They live in a bubble and their reality is warped.

[...]

After more than ten years of working for high-net-worth families and individuals, I decided to start my own operation, recruiting and placing PAs for the same type of clients. A lot of other staffing agencies deal primarily with nannies and housekeepers. But finding a highly skilled person who you can trust with all your secrets is incredibly difficult — people want to hire an Ivy League–educated executive assistant who’s worked for a billionaire before and has recommendation letters. And just because someone worked for one billionaire doesn’t mean they’re going to be good in another environment with someone else. We are aligning the hard skills and the soft skills and the personality traits to make a perfect match that’s going to last for 5, 10, or 20 years. The high-net-worth families don’t want to be blowing through assistants every year. They have a lot to lose, and it’s hard for them to trust people.

[...]

Are there situations where, after you embed yourself with a client, you realize they’re just too much of a nightmare to keep on? Oh, yes. I learned some very hard lessons. There was this one billionaire who had, it could only be described as a dungeon in his basement, for fetishes and stuff like that. With another client, I literally lied and said I was going to the bathroom, and I just escaped. There are times when I get into the mix and I’m like, “I’m out of here.” I’ve been in a couple situations where I was really worried about people’s behavior, especially with all the drugs and alcohol.

[...]

What are some of the “soft” skills that you mentioned that PAs need to have to be successful? You have to have thick skin. You’re like a rhinoceros or an armadillo. And you have to have incredible patience. The way you word things is so important. Your intonation and speed of delivery — I mean, it’s an art. You’re working for people who are not used to hearing no.

One example: I was working for a prince, and in the Middle East, he’s a pretty big deal. But outside of that world, nobody knows who he is; he’s just another wealthy guy. So he got this crazy idea that he wanted to meet this big-deal Hollywood celebrity. I got on the phone with the right person who worked in that celebrity’s inner circle. And they said, “We might be able to do it, but here’s the set of circumstances under which it could happen.” So when I explained to the VIP that, if he wanted to meet this celebrity, he would need to make a donation to the celebrity’s favorite charity and do these other things, he exploded in anger. It went on for two days. He was running around screaming, “No, people pay to meet me.” He lost his mind.

So I learned an important lesson: It would’ve just been better for me to say that I couldn’t do it. You have to get to know the rhythms of the person you’re working for, and there’s certain ways that you have to say things. And you have to know when it’s better to not say anything or tell little fibs. The use of collective pronouns is very important — saying “we” instead of you or I. Sometimes when you’re working with people who have inherited wealth — they just walk into money and never had a job and don’t understand how the real world works — they’ll ask you to do something profoundly ridiculous, and you can’t tell them how dumb the idea is.

How do you deal with boundaries, personally, when clients cross them? It’s hard. You get sucked in, and the water becomes very muddy. A lot of these people are lonely. They’re in their megamansion all alone with you, and then they’ve had a couple lines, and then they’re telling you all their problems, and you become like a psychiatrist. It’s tricky.

Personally, I know other people in the business, and I would sometimes call them and say, “What do you do in this situation?” And we’d give each other advice. The big stars, they have a whole army of people that work for them, the agents and the managers and the doctors and the lawyers. But those people are only interacting with them intermittently at best. The PA is the one that’s there in the trench, day in and day out, year in and year out. You have to know your place, though, too. A lot of VIPs are obsessive about the people around them. They’re constantly in a state of mental torture because they think other people want something from them — usually their money. So you want to make sure you keep both feet on the ground, because it can all be taken away.

How do you keep from being starstruck or intimidated by the people you work with? You get used to it. It’s a business. And when you meet these people, most of the time, you’re going to be disappointed. Either because they’re mean, or they’re just not like what you thought they were going to be like. The Hollywood publicity machine creates a certain image, and it’s very rare to meet a celebrity who is genuinely an amazing, brilliant, kind, humane person to everyone all the time. Once you’ve been around it enough, those butterflies start to go away.

[daresplaining]

I'm going to need to know your FULL opinion on the erosion of Elektra Natchios in The Red Fist Saga ASAP!

OOF. Okay, here goes...

Elektra's role in the Red Fist Saga directly follows the Woman Without Fear mini-series, so I feel like I should start there, especially since I haven't really talked about it yet on this blog. Woman Without Fear was an Elektra solo comic that came out just as Devil's Reign was ending and the creative team was gearing up for the Red Fist Saga. The mini-series's purpose was to introduce big, shocking changes to Elektra's origin story. These changes didn't end up having much to do at all with the Red Fist Saga, or with anything else really, but they did functionally strip her of her agency and autonomy and made her motivations instead revolve around Matt. Now, Elektra's origin story has changed before. Frank Miller himself gave us three versions: the original, introduced in Daredevil volume 1 #168 and #190, a slight variation in Elektra: Assassin (he changed the timeline a bit and modified the character of Elektra's father), and then an entirely new, in my opinion much less interesting version in Man Without Fear-- which was not intended to be part of the 616 continuity, though that didn't stop later writers from drawing from it, including Zdarsky, who seems to have used it as a core text to inform his characterization of Elektra in general.

I know you know Elektra's original origin story, but I'll provide the general gist for anyone who might be unfamiliar: Elektra Nachios was the daughter of a rich Greek diplomat and his wife. Her mother was gunned down by assassins while pregnant, but Elektra survived. Her father, now paranoid and fearful, put Elektra in martial arts classes from a young age, while also keeping her sheltered to protect her from harm. She ended up attending college in the US, where she met Matt Murdock, another sheltered kid with a beloved but overprotective father. They fell in love, but the magic was destroyed when Elektra and her father were taken hostage by terrorists. Matt tried to be a hero, and Elektra's father ended up getting killed. Shattered by grief, Elektra left school and traveled across the world to train with Stick, who had trained her childhood martial arts teacher before casting him out (in Elektra: Assassin, the timeline is slightly different; Elektra trained with Stick before attending Columbia, though the end result is the same). Stick saw Elektra's skill, but judged that she was too emotionally compromised to complete the training and kicked her out. Elektra devised a desperate plan to prove herself to Stick: infiltrating the Hand and taking them down from the inside. She failed tragically. Turned cynical by grief and hardship, she used the skills she had picked up from all of her training as weapons to protect herself from a harsh and unforgiving world. She carved herself a life from the tragedies she had endured. She became an assassin.

Note that I mentioned Matt's name a grand total of two times in that synopsis. It's not to say that Matt isn't important to Elektra, of course he is, but he isn't that important to her origin story. The star of this beautiful tragedy is Elektra, as she should be.

Woman Without Fear introduces something new-- at least, new to the comics (more on that in a moment). It takes the Elektra: Assassin timeline and suggests that she trained with Stick when she was still a child. (It also brings in things from the Man Without Fear Elektra origin, but I don't think I'm going to get into that here because that is a whole other rant and this post is long and tangent-y enough already). It then suggests that when Stick rejected her, she still ended up with the Hand-- but not of her own will, with the intention of destroying them. No! She was successfully recruited. And once the Hand had her in their clutches, they sent her out to go after another target: Matt Murdock. In this shiny new backstory, Elektra and Matt run into each other at college not as two kindred spirits, but because Elektra was ordered to hang out with him in order to bag him for the Hand...before, oh no!, accidentally falling in love with him. To add extra insult to this character assassination, we're told in the main series that even her behavior during her father's hostage situation was intended as a test for Matt.

What this change indicates to me is a fundamental lack of understanding of Elektra's character; or worse, a lack of respect for her complexity, or a conviction that she operates at her best as a tool to further Matt's narrative.

What is possibly most baffling to me about all of this is that this change had pretty much no bearing on the Red Fist Saga. Why was it made? What was the point? The term "MCU-ification", referring to changes being made in Marvel's comics that seem aimed at aligning them more closely with the MCU, gets thrown around a lot-- possibly too much-- but this really does seem like a case where there's no other clear explanation for the change other than to shift 616 Elektra's backstory closer to that of her live action counterpart. (In the Netflix show, Elektra recruited Matt for Stick; something I, as a huge Stick and Elektra fan, actually thought was a cool What If?/alternate universe because it presented an opportunity to explore a different take on their relationship). The new backstory is mentioned a few times in the main Daredevil series, but otherwise it seems irrelevant to the plot. And that's because Elektra herself is kind of irrelevant to the plot. She seems to have three purposes in this story: 1. To serve alongside Stick as an exposition machine and provide details about the Hand/Fist/Pinky Toe/etc.; 2. To be someone Matt loves and thinks about in moments of danger and conflict (despite the fact that they have very few moments of actual emotional connection in this story, despite getting married!), and 3. As a warm body onto which Matt can project his perpetual internal musings on good and evil ("Elektra was Bad, but she is Good now. She, like all people who have done bad things, is still worthy of God's love and is capable of rehabilitation, and look! Her decision to take on the Daredevil identity is proof that she is now Good! She has become a worthy soldier of God." Man, I wish I was exaggerating.)

Elektra's appearances in Daredevil comics have always centered around Matt to some degree, simply because it is his comic. There's miles of difference between reading a DD comic with Elektra cameos and reading an Elektra solo series. But that doesn't mean it isn't frustrating to have comics like the Blackman/Del Mundo run, or the Dark Reign solo tie-in, that delve so deeply into Elektra's rich psyche, that truly do look at her worldview in a way that is complex and morally difficult and so, so compelling, and then to have comics like this where she barely even feels present because so little effort has been made to do anything other than slap some vague morality lessons onto her and make sure she and Matt sleep together every other issue.

[recruit-art]

5 Key Tips for New Recruiters to Succeed in Australia’s Growing Market

Australia’s recruitment industry is experiencing rapid growth, bringing more competition and opportunities for new recruiters. Succeeding in this landscape requires more than simply placing candidates in jobs—it takes strategic focus, strong relationships, and awareness of industry trends. Here are five essential tips for new recruiters looking to excel in Australia.

1. Develop a Niche Focus

Rather than covering every industry, new recruiters can benefit from specialising in a specific niche like healthcare, IT, finance, or aged care. A focused approach helps you establish expertise and stand out from the crowd.

Why Niches Matter

Focusing on a niche allows you to develop a deep understanding of an industry’s specific needs, making you a more valuable resource for clients. With niche expertise, you’ll be able to connect candidates and roles more effectively and build stronger client relationships.

How to Choose Your Niche

Research emerging trends, skill shortages, and growing sectors to identify a niche that suits your interests and goals. Specialising helps build your reputation as an expert and makes your marketing efforts more effective.

Suggested Keywords: niche recruitment agency Australia, specialised recruitment services, healthcare recruitment experts, IT recruitment Australia.

2. Use Technology to Streamline Processes

Leveraging digital tools is essential for modern recruiters to stay organised and efficient. By integrating the right technology, you can save time and focus more on valuable tasks like building relationships.

Essential Tools

Applicant Tracking Systems (ATS) are invaluable for managing candidates and applications. Other helpful tools include AI-powered sourcing platforms, video interviewing tools, and automated reference checks.

Technology Benefits for New Recruiters

Technology minimizes administrative work, freeing up your time to strengthen client and candidate relationships. Analytics can also provide valuable insights to improve decision-making and streamline your processes.

Suggested Keywords: recruitment technology Australia, digital recruitment tools, recruitment automation, ATS for recruiters, tech-driven recruitment services.

3. Prioritise Building Relationships with Clients and Candidates

Recruitment is all about relationships, so building trust with clients and candidates is essential. Fostering strong relationships sets a foundation for long-term success and helps you stand out in a competitive field.

Why Client Relationships Are Important

Employers value recruiters who understand their company’s culture and hiring needs. Building trust and rapport with clients positions you as a go-to resource, which can lead to repeat business and referrals.

Strengthening Candidate Relationships

Candidates prefer working with recruiters who are transparent, responsive, and supportive of their career aspirations. Offering feedback, career advice, and consistent communication builds loyalty and trust.

Suggested Keywords: building recruitment relationships, client-focused recruitment, candidate-centric recruitment, recruitment agency client relationships, recruitment partnerships Australia.

4. Stay Updated on Industry Trends

The recruitment landscape is continually changing. Staying informed about trends helps you adapt to the market and offer relevant solutions to clients and candidates.

Current Trends in Australia

Expanding industries like healthcare and tech, along with the demand for remote and flexible work, are reshaping recruitment. The gig economy and non-traditional work arrangements also provide new opportunities.

Staying Informed

To stay up-to-date, read industry newsletters, attend webinars, and network with other professionals. Keeping a pulse on industry trends helps you remain competitive and well-prepared for changes.

Suggested Keywords: Australian recruitment trends, emerging recruitment markets, flexible work recruitment, gig economy recruitment Australia, recruitment industry insights.

5. Invest in Continuous Learning

Ongoing professional development is critical for success in recruitment. Expanding your skills and knowledge not only makes you a more effective recruiter but also builds your credibility with clients and candidates.

The Importance of Professional Development

Staying informed about best practices, regulations, and market shifts positions you as a valuable partner in the recruitment process. Continuous learning allows you to offer informed advice and a better service experience.

Where to Start

Consider taking courses, attending industry events, or finding mentorship opportunities. Joining industry associations can also provide valuable resources and networking opportunities to sharpen your skills.

Suggested Keywords: recruitment professional development, continuous learning in recruitment, recruitment training Australia, upskilling for recruiters, recruitment certification courses.

Conclusion

For new recruiters in Australia, achieving success requires a thoughtful approach. By focusing on a niche, using technology effectively, prioritising relationships, staying informed on industry trends, and investing in professional growth, you can set your agency up for long-term success.

At RecruitArt, we’re here to support new recruiters on their path to success. From start-up guidance to strategic insights, our team is committed to helping you build a thriving recruitment agency. Reach out to us today to see how we can support your journey in Australia’s evolving recruitment industry.

For more reading please visit: Recruitart

[cloudyyoimiya]

hii may i request more port mafia! Ranpo hcs can be yandere or not, i'm just so starved for port mafia ranpo fics but unfortunately they're quite hard to find 😭

And a scenario would be nice

ofc you can request this!! i won’t lie when i got the first pm! ranpo request it was the first time i heard of that au. i won’t lie i kinda wanna design him now… anyways! i also did just some headcanons because i think i’d rather do a oneshot than a scenario!! i’ll get to that in the future. thank you for requesting, anon!!

Port Mafia Headcanons; Ranpo Edogawa

Possible warnings: Mentions of murder, brief mention of Mori

At first, he was just a simple mission planner for the mafia. Dazai, being the mafias new boss, would often call him up to his office to go over some strategies that he formulated. He would always ask Ranpo to fact check each one of his plans just to make sure that they would go smoothly.

When he finally landed a spot as an executive, it was because he had lead well over fifty successful operations, each one with little to no casualties. This honestly impressed Dazai considering that Ranpo’s ability rivaled his own intelligence.

Much like the canon Ranpo, this version would still act childish. It wouldn’t be as much as he would be in the detective agency, but it would still be there.

He wouldn’t be the worst executive to work under, but he wouldn’t be the best either. Much like every one of them in canon, he’d have his positives and negatives. The most well known negative of his would be his childishness. Sometimes he’d send certain people to die on missions he planned only because he didn’t like something that they did. He of course would say that their death was a simple oversight, but he and Dazai knew that it was planned.

In his office he had a safe for his sweets much like he did in Dead Apple. Though this one would be bigger and much sturdier. He couldn’t risk his valuable snacks getting destroyed because of some raid by a rival group, now could he?

Instead of his glasses coming from Fukuzawa, they’d actually come from Dazai. Dazai gave them to Ranpo when he first joined the Port Mafia because of the tradition of giving one of your personal items to someone that you recruited. Ranpo got attached to these glasses because they were from the boss himself, and he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

Now, let’s get on to you.

When he first met you, you were only a mere assistant for him. He’d always give you random tasks like purchasing him some more snacks, or making you fill out battle reports that he didn’t want to do himself. Or maybe even sometimes he’d send you to meetings in his stead.

At first he really didn’t care if you lived or if you died as harsh as it was. You were just an assistant to him; a nobody. He could always get a new one and replace you like it was nothing. He was never one to maintain work related relationships, so it was to be expected.

But then he started to fall for you. At first he noticed how you’d do anything for him—albeit it being because he was your boss—but still, he grew to appreciate it after a while.

He then started to notice how you’d remember his food preferences and how you’d always get him his favorite brands.

Ranpo absolutely loved it.

Ranpo made sure that you’d never leave his side, figuratively and literally. If he was sent on a mission, then he’d drag you along with him. You were still his assistant at the time, so you really didn’t have a say in the matter. He’d also drag you along on meetings with all of the mafias executives. He’d say it was because he needed you to write down notes for him, but they were rather meaningless in his eyes. He didn’t need the notes because he was able to remember everything, but he wanting to stay in your company during the meetings.

Soon, word started to spread in the Port Mafia that you and Ranpo were dating. You of course would deny these rumors like your life depended on it, but Ranpo would just egg them on in the shadows. He wanted to date you, so why not get the mafia used to it before it was official?

Over time he’d become more lenient with your work. He’d make sure that you wouldn’t go on major life threatening missions only because he still wanted you around. He may have been sadistic towards other members of the mafia, but he’d never be that way towards you.

If you ever were sent on a life threatening mission though, he’d make sure to use his ability and make sure you’d be safe. If it would ever turn out that you got injured, he would force you to take time off. If you insisted on going to work during your recovery process, he’d personally go to your living quarters and lay down on you so you couldn’t get up. Yes, it was a childish solution, but hey it worked!

More often than not he’d just allow you to hang out in his office during your down time. It gave him an opportunity to study you, and you were able to feel at peace even in your hostile working environment.

He’d even let you eat some of his snacks while other people weren’t watching! You should feel honored because no one in the history of the Port Mafia has been able to do that.

He would send out someone to kill another if they ever saw you sharing his snacks though. He couldn’t let the fact that he grew fond of someone get out to the world. People may use that to their advantage and he doesn’t want that

If Dazai was to pick up on Ranpo’s feelings towards you, then he wouldn’t try to get in between you. He doesn’t wish to become like Mori and dictate everyone’s moves, so he’d allow it. Though, he would attempt to tease Ranpo during meetings if you weren’t there for some reason.

If you were ever to leave the mafia, then Ranpo would try to persuade you out of it. He didn’t want to be alone—be without you—but if he was unable to do so, he’d allow you to leave. He’d also use his ability to figure out ways to cover your tracks so no one will be able to cause you harm.

On that note though, I do think he does have a picture of Fukuzawa on his desk from before he joined the Port Mafia. He only joined because he had no other place to go, and the detective agency wouldn’t accept him back after he agreed to help Dazai with something.

Who knows, maybe he will add another picture next to it that had you in it.

[techmomma]

Saw a post a few weeks ago with advice for getting one of those Comfy Desk Jobs and using a contract-to-hire staffing agency, and as someone working in a Comfy Desk Job in a Contract-to-Hire Staffing Agency, here are some tips from the inside:

they will likely ask you to come in for an interview or do an interview over the phone or in a Zoom call with one of their recruiters, first. fucking come on time. dress nicely. prepare like you're interviewing for a regular job, but also understand this is just so your recruiter can get a feel for you. it's to get to know you, your strengths, your weaknesses, your background, and to get a feel for what sort of work culture you might fit in.

if you’re taking the interview via a zoom call, please do not take it on something you hold in your hand, i.e. your phone, and if you have to, have it set up on something stable. please don’t. walk around. with the camera pointed at you. while doing the interview. it doesn’t look good and you may make your recruiter motion sick.

be nice. communicate. hell, over-communicate. for god's sake, do the paperwork we ask you to do and do it promptly. the faster you get it done, the more that tells us "oh they are so ready for a job." if you just sorta plod along and do things whenever, that tells your recruiter that you're not super interested, and they will put you on the backburner

please don't take it personally if they do. they're actively trying to find jobs for several dozen people, and passively trying to find jobs for a hundred more. they have to perform triage to know who to work with and who to prioritize for finding a job.

this also means sometimes they will be actively looking for something for you, but just nothing comes up, for weeks. the job market fluctuates wildly, ESPECIALLY in office jobs where you can have absolutely nothing open for months and then five jobs suddenly open up in a week. them not calling you does not mean they’ve forgotten you. please don’t call in multiple times a week asking for an update. call once, like on a friday. if there’s no update after two fridays, then just let them call you. really, if they think they’ve got a hit for you, they will let you know and let you know quickly. you getting a job means we make more money. we have incentive to let you know as soon as possible.

if they send you out somewhere, please, god, try to make a decent first impression? for places that that focus on contract-to-hire work, getting people jobs is partially dependent on our relationship to a company. we make contracts with companies dependent on our relationships with them. we can get people hired at places who would have never given them a second glance, but that's because the company has to trust our judgement. if we keep sending them people who flake out or are rude on the job or don't work, that hurts our reputation with them, and that in turns hurts our ability to get jobs for people.

it's okay if they send you somewhere and the company just isn't a good fit. just let your recruiter know, and they will usually do their best to find another place. your recruiter is only human. just be polite and try to hold out while they find you another. (they will also understand if you just absolutely CANNOT because TOO STRESSFUL, just COMMUNICATE)

some people interview REALLY well but then are terrible workers. your recruiter always sorta has this running in the back of their mind as they interview you. you have to SHOW THEM that you're not just all talk. walk the walk. show them you’re so prepared you could walk in the next day ready to start. or if you can’t, pretend you are.

yes, having a resume ready isn't necessary but will very much earn you brownie points with your recruiter. they will also often help if you don't know how to make one.

for desk jobs in particular, a knowledge of computers, word, and excel are a must. here is how you cheat that if you don't know them, or don't own them: go practice with google docs and google spreadsheets. anything you can do in google docs and google sheets, you can do in word and excel. if you feel comfortable with those, you can absolutely lie and say that you are “fluent in Microsoft Word and Excel.” and then if you have to actually use them at some company, just dick around and watch some youtube videos on them in your spare time. you'll be fine. I've never done anything in excel that I couldn't do in google sheets, and 90% of anything you're doing is just filling in spreadsheets with numbers, anyway. you will get bonus points if you can make spreadsheets look nice and readable, tho

honestly so many employers will give you heart eyes if you can say you're fluent in excel. part of how I got this job was telling them "yeah I do spreadsheets for fun sometimes." I mean, it's (mostly) true, but I would have said it even if it weren't. it was the deal maker for them.

everyone wants remote work. everyone. do not ask for it, not upfront anyway, unless it’s the only thing you can do. if the recruiter asks, say you're "open to it." almost nobody using a staffing agency is hiring for remote work. unfortunate, but them's the breaks. we can't even get remote work here, man, let alone get people hired for it. it's one of those rainbow unicorn jobs we can fill when the moon and planets are in alignment on the solstice and a comet is passing overhead. remote work is almost always hired through the company, not through a staffing agency, anyway

it's okay if you don't have a car. you can tell your recruiter. yeah, it takes away a few brownie points, but they can work with you to find something close to a busline. just make it apparent that, car or not, if you can get there, you will get there. they will work with you, if you work with them.

be polite. christ, you would be surprised how many people treat their recruiters like servants who can magically make jobs appear and then get angry when they can’t

your recruiter has what are called "job orders." these are open positions that we are currently trying to fill and are usually their highest priority. each has specific skillsets, but also comes with a company that has particular work cultures or requirements. your recruiter will not just send you out even if say, you have the right skillset, if they think the culture wouldn’t be a good fit. your recruiter has been to the company itself (or a coworker has, or there are notes about the company, etc., we have inside information) and sure, it may be your skillset would be perfect. but they may also know you're queer and the company is... let's just say "old-fashioned." they are not going to send you out to a place where they think you might get harassed. not usually, anyway. contract-to-hire focused staffing agencies get to be a little more deliberate and choosy in who we send out.

job orders are what they’re trying to fill first. no you do not get to see the job orders. again, if you do well in the interview and we send you out there and you flake, that looks bad on us. our reputation sours, the less jobs we can get people hired at

be professional even if the place they put you sucks. the last thing you want is to burn bridges, or to cause your recruiter to burn bridges. you make your recruiter burn a bridge because you were unprofessional? then all the skills in the world will not get you hired because we are only human and assholes get the round filing bin. ask for your recruiter’s advice if you really just ain’t sure.

if you take medicinal or recreational drugs, especially weed, please tell us. we’re not narcs. we’re not here to rat you out and that’d be way too much trouble we don’t want to deal with. but we can try to find a place that doesn’t do drug testing if you really think you’re not gonna be able to pass the drug test. it’s okay. (we will, however, give you a little bit of a worried side-eye if you tell us that you can’t be off of alcohol long enough to not pass a drug test but that’s more of an “are you... are you okay??” kind of look. we’ll still try to find a place if you are otherwise a stellar candidate.)

you will technically work through us for a set amount of days, usually 60 or 90, until the other company hires you on. until then, you are technically our employee, so please be nice to us even if it seems like a sure-fire thing that you will be hired on. if you’re nice to us, sometimes we can negotiate you a hefty pay raise before you’re formally hired on ;)

If I think of more helpful hints, I will add onto this post, but there ya go! Feel free to comment with any questions. I am an admin, so I don’t know all of the ins and outs of what my recruiters do or how it works, but I have a decent idea of what they’re looking and not looking for. Hope this helps, and try to remember your recruiter is not a wizard and is not magic and is only human, and there are so, SO many things NOT in their control when it comes to getting you jobs.

Your recruiter is working against bad odds for you. And often putting in a lot of unpaid time to do so. Please keep this in mind, and be patient with us! Being nice and being professional can sometimes carry you farther than any amount of skill or experience!

[wardenparker]

Preview: Down the Rabbit Hole

Jack Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.  

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“Jason Howe, 36, born in Northwood, New Hampshire on April 4th.”

Jack winces and curls his hand into a fist as he stands in front of the conference room table. Not having been invited to sit, nor to have the glass of ‘67 Statesman Reserve that Champ has sitting in a glass at his elbow. A drink that Jack desperately needs. “Champ, there was a gun.” Jack defends, although he knows it’s a weak excuse. Statesmen take out the bad guys, not hurt the innocent. And Jack’s killed a bystander who had nothing to do with anything.

"You've been off since Cambodia, Jack." And although Champ knows exactly why, it can't be considered an excuse. He looks back down at the file on the conference table and frowns, then keeps reading. "Two siblings. Parents both living. Soulmate so far unknown." The older man looks up, locking his eyes on Jack. "We're tracking her down."

“Why?” Jack demands, frowning at the mere idea. Statesman had never tracked down a soulmate of anyone before, why start now? “We don’t know who it is, or if they care.” He scoffs. “Better to let sleepin’ dogs lie.”

“I don’t blame you for not noticing.” Champ sighs and shakes his head before finally motioning for Jack to sit. The man is his best senior agent, his quickest set of reflexes, and his closest friend. Frankly, Champ is worried about the upheaval in Jack’s life lately. It’s affecting his perception on a base level, not to mention his work. “You didn’t come out of that fire fight unscathed, and your adrenaline was too damn high for the pain to get through to you.” Running one hand down his face, Champ huffs slightly as he sips from his own whiskey glass but still doesn’t offer Jack any. “The back of your right arm. Just above your elbow. You have a new mark, Jack.”

“Bullshit.” Jack spits, furious at the implication of what Champ is saying. “My soulmate is dead.” He reminds the older man, as if he wasn’t well aware. Hell, Champ was the one who had recruited Jack to Statesman, so he was well aquatinted with his backstory. Until this moment, he would have called the man a friend. Maybe his best friend, even though Tequila likes to claim that’s his title. “Been dead and gone for years. So there ain’t no marks on my body.”

“I don’t mean to say anything against her memory.” Champ holds up one hand in a defensive posture. With the other, he gestures to the large mirror on the conference room wall. “Roll up your sleeve and take a look for yourself. Ginger noted the appearance of scars from minor cuts and bruises and a small tattoo on your arm. None of these marks were found on the civilian that was killed or any of the other dead men that Gamma Team cleaned from the scene. Following protocols, we’re now tracking down any and all soulmates and searching databases for your exact set of new marks.” He knows it isn’t good news. It isn’t good for the agency and it isn’t good for Jack. But, despite it being a long shot, it is now more likely than not that someone out there shares these marks with him. And that makes her both a liability and a potential target. Whoever she is.

Fuck.” Jack hisses bitterly, his shoulders jerking as he shuffles out of his sports coat and tosses it down so he can start rolling up his sleeve. “Can’t Ginger remove it?” He demands, not wanting marks on his body. He hasn’t had any since the day Abigail died and he doesn’t want some other woman’s scars or tattoos on his skin either. He doesn’t have a soulmate and he doesn’t want one.

“Soulmate scars don’t work like that.” He knows Jack knows it, but he also understands the younger man’s distress as he tears his sleeve back to inspect his skin. “As far as Ginger’s nanites are concerned, that’s just your skin. No imperfections about it.”

[rainnydayzz]

Your Launchpad SHUSH AU and his emotional turmoil has me hooked!

Who is Bruno is your AU? And how does LP get recruited to stay for so long?

Well my dear viewer I’m glad you asked, and thank you! Angst is my specialty. :)

LP essentially get recruited through Beakley/Scrooge tie ins. He’s going through a lot of emotional issues at the moment and was looking for anyway he could make himself feel useful again. And hey, no better way than saving the world right? Of course it’s immediately clear LP is lacking in the “mental catagory” particularly with memorization and such. Physically however the agency is quite impressed, and this alone is what convinced them to give LP a chance. (His past including crime fighting with Darkwing was a big help, and he’d pretty much seen just about anything the world could throw at him thanks to McDuck adventures) They would work on all that other stuff. So he goes through all sorts of tests, physically and otherwise. Morality is something that comes into play as well, and LP who has a heart of gold, can’t help but be wary.

He started training with SHUSH a couple days a month, but was soon attending more and it became more and more unbearable for him to be around the Mallards (mweh heheheh) he could also work on McDuck time as well as both Scrooge and Beakley could tell SOMETHING was clearly wrong and wanted to keep an eye on him best they could. They also backed his alibis when needed if his absence is questioned. To LP’s misfortune, that’s not often.

I have an idea for what gets LP officially hired, but it’s subject to change. So far it’s based on an emotional trigger. Drake has been dating Morgana, the ducks have Della to fly them on adventures, and he’s run away from his own blood family. That’s three strikes buddy. But it’s not till Drake’s proposal to Morgana that LP finally has the nerve to shoot the training dummy head on, no hesitation, perfect accuracy. From there he gets sent on mission after mission, slowly building his credit and whatnot. Eventually he takes a full time position, getting a cover story from Scrooge saying he got “promoted” to an international cargo pilot for McDuck products. So he’ll be gone a lot basically. He also particularly requests he works by himself. He wasn’t exactly excited with the idea of a partner.

Bruno however essentially plays the same role he does in the original Ducktales episode “double-o-duck” but more expanded upon I guess. He and Launchpad are essentially doppelgängers with minor differences here and there such as eye color and hair color. This too was key to keeping LP around for SHUSH purposes, hoping they could eventually use him as Bruno’s double. (And this is what the main story takes places around is him impersonating Bruno who has been captured by the agency a few months prior, giving him plenty of time to fit in)

I think of Bruno as a sort of arms dealer, primarily operating in European continents.

The lovely Bruno in question from the original btw

[darsynia]

Don't Read the Last Page Chapter 2

Summary: Your friend Nat claims her plan to distract Tony Stark with her sex appeal isn't working, so she wants you to do it with your brain--and a sexy red dress. Things start out completely over your head and get more complicated when SHIELD becomes involved.

Length/Warnings: 4,200 | none (future smut!!)

Masterlist | MCU Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Prev | Next

Excerpt:

"Go, please, Mr. Stark. Enjoy your party.”

“It’s Tony, and I would, if I didn’t think you’d bolt the second I turn my back."

“Don’t worry about that, there’s still a lot of your house technology I want to see,” you blurt out, looking with honest interest at the lit-up interior of his famous mansion. When you hadn’t been stressed out about the dress, the spy agency, and possibly letting Natasha down, you really have been excited to catch a glimpse of Stark’s innovations in situ.

His hand tightens on your arm as he bursts into genuine laughter, pulling your focus back to him. “You know, I think you’re the first woman who hasn’t tried to use that line to get into bed with me!”

“Oh God,” you breathe, stumbling back against the wall. What are you doing here? How did you think you had the skills to attend something like this??

Chapter Two: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

When your car stops, you see that you’re in a short line of other vehicles making their way up to the entrance to Stark’s mansion. It gives you a chance to text Natasha about the crazy conversation you just had with her boss. The program Nat uses to text with you is some weird, proprietary one that makes you pick your nickname new each time. You use the same one as usual, CATnip, but Nat’s is always different, usually dependent on her mood.

CATnip: Your boss wants to recruit me to be a freaking sex spy, and I will never trust you again

TrustTasha: Maybe you misunderstood the assignment?

CATnip: I really don’t think so. He told me that SHIELD wants to keep him from getting too close to his CEO, like I’m in any way capable of competing with Pepper Potts! I’m in way over my depth here.

TrustTasha: Is this you exaggerating for effect or is that really what he said?

CATnip: I am 10% exaggerating. The car is pulling up.

The car stops, and you are gathering up your courage when someone opens the door for you and holds out a hand. You step out, tucking your phone into the gold clutch you brought, wishing you’d thought to check yourself in any kind of mirror in between being trust-stomped by Nick Fury and this moment. As you walk toward the door, you watch your feet rather than the scene in front of you, feeling very much like the ‘barely scraping by’ engineer who lives above her own storefront that you are.

“Excuse me?” a man says, and you look up. He’s a heavyset man, but you suspect that a lot of the bulk is actually muscle. The man’s wearing a black suit and an authoritative expression. He does a bit of a double take on looking at your outfit, and you look down to make sure the gold shawl is covering what you want it to be. “Trying to stand out, nice,” he says appreciatively. “Go on in.”

“Not really,” you mutter to yourself, but you do know your dress is sending a particular message. “You don’t need a name or something?” you ask him. It’s one last bite at your own paw to get out of the trap you’ve been placed in. If it doesn’t work, well, at least the bait is nice.

He laughs and looks back down at the slit in your dress. “I mean, if you want to give me a name, I certainly wouldn’t refuse it.”

For a long, horrible second you freeze as your brain dusts off the correct lines of code. This is a party, and he probably thought you were offering your name to him! Thankfully, it’s a popular party, and you’re jostled from behind by guests more eager to get in than you are. You take the opportunity to duck your head down and scurry in the door.

Once inside, it seems like every woman in sight is wearing black. You’re the only one in red and the only one with any gold as a part of your outfit. Now you understand what the man meant about standing out. You scan the room looking for Nat so you can give her a piece of your mind. Two of the dresses you were choosing between had been black! When you see her, you slip between through a group of young blonde giggling women, and call out.

“Excuse me, Miss?”

Nat clearly recognizes your voice, because when she turns around, her expression is amused. “Yes? Were you looking for a place to hang up your wrap?”

“Not at all,” you say politely, glaring at her. “Maybe a location for the bathroom?”

“Miss Rushman, please tell me you and the lady in red are friends?” someone behind you asks. You recognize who it is and close your eyes, caught between excitement and regret.

“I don’t think I’ve ever won a bet this quickly in my life,” Natasha crows. She’s holding herself in such a unique way, as if she’s meant to be on display, but not know it? It would be compelling if you weren’t ready to toss her and her entire organization off the cliff face the house is built on.

The thing is, you don’t want to be impolite, and you did hope to at least meet the man once in your life, so you slowly turn around to greet Tony Stark. He’s wearing slick gray dress pants, a matching suit jacket, and a mottled maroon shirt that definitely costs a lot of money, if the way it’s clearly been tailored to fit over the glow of his ARC reactor is any indication. Your eyes are caught by that glow right away, but you’re brought out of your fascination by the sound of him clearing his throat.

You look up into Stark’s eyes, and you’re even more startled by the obvious interest you can see in them.

“A room full of people here to celebrate my birthday, and you’re the only one in red,” he says warmly. In most of his public appearances he comes across as sarcastic, combative, or arrogant. Right now he seems almost lit from within, like his whole body is smiling. The man is the very embodiment of charisma.

“It seemed like an obvious choice, but--” you look around at the rest of the partygoers, some of whom are looking over at the two of you with curiosity.

“Were you planning for me to unwrap you, later?” he asks, his voice dropping in register as well as sound level.

You suck in a breath, suddenly realizing what your attempt to cover up the bodice of your dress actually looks like in this context. You drop back a step, eyes wide.

“I honestly hadn’t-- I mean--” you stammer. Stark steps close to whisper in your ear. 

“Breathe.” He turns toward the overlook on the other side of the room and jerks his head for you to follow him. “C’mon.”

“I’d rather just--” you shake your head, but to your utter surprise, he grabs one end of your gold shawl and starts backing away from you toward the door to the balcony. Stark’s expression is smug; whether you stay still and let him have his dramatic dress reveal or follow him outside, he obviously gets what he wants either way.

You choose the less revealing of the two and rush after him with a fist pressed tight against your heart, in case he tugs too hard. The analogy maybe hits a little close, tonight. This man whose career you’d followed for so long is completely focused on you, and you can feel his pull in more than one way. If you could chase all of the other people away and really talk to him, you’d be in heaven. Their scrutiny is what’s most upsetting to you right now. 

Another partygoer opens the door for the two of you and greets Stark, who acknowledges the man the same way a world leader might greet a diplomatic subordinate, magnanimously, as if owed the attention by virtue of his position. He walks you all the way outside to the overlook, other groups of people drifting out of his way as if it’s only natural to do so. As you keep up with him you can't help but wonder if Tony Stark has ever had to wait to see an exhibit at a museum or art gallery. Given how much scrutiny the two of you are getting, you suspect he feels more kinship with the displays than the audience.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like you might need to yarf over the side. Not used to parties?” Stark says, leaning on the wall and looking at you curiously. He lets go of the fabric of your coverup with a twist of his lips that tells you he definitely thought about yanking on it anyway.

“You know how you buck the trend of tech professionals being typically shy, introverted, and awkward around people?” you ask, looking out at the view instead of him.

“Mm hmm.”

The sheer warmth in his voice is setting your nerves on fire. Your crush is a bonfire inside of you, optimistically blazing as if it can burn away your life-long career of being tongue-tied around men.

“Well I don’t. Buck the trend, I mean.”

“You work in tech?” he says. His voice sounds closer than it did before, and you look over to see that he’s drifted over, a completely different expression on his face. It’s everything you’ve always wanted-- Tony Stark interested in you (maybe? hopefully??) for your mind. You nod. “Where do you work? What do you do?”

A group of women start singing Happy Birthday over in the main room, the one with a DJ. You must have made some kind of terrible face, because Stark laughs, reaches out a hand and rests it on your arm where you’re leaning on the wall to keep yourself standing. The touch singes your nerve endings, sending heat from the point of contact straight to your rapidly beating heart. 

You barely expected to meet the man, much less feel the way he can so easily alter your brain chemistry. 

That thought helps you focus, somehow, and you picture yourself connecting every one of your twelve social brain cells to say, “Software and mechanical engineering, mostly. I run a small, very small design firm. Go, please, Mr. Stark. Enjoy your party.”

“It’s Tony, and I would, if I didn’t think you’d bolt the second I turn my back."

“Don’t worry about that, there’s still a lot of your house technology I want to see,” you blurt out, looking with honest interest at the lit-up interior of his famous mansion. When you hadn’t been stressed out about the dress, the spy agency, and possibly letting Natasha down, you really have been excited to catch a glimpse of Stark’s innovations in situ.

His hand tightens on your arm as he bursts into genuine laughter, pulling your focus back to him. “You know, I think you’re the first woman who hasn’t tried to use that line to get into bed with me!”

“Oh God,” you breathe, stumbling back against the wall. What are you doing here? How did you think you had the skills to attend something like this??

“Hey, hey,” Stark says, stepping directly in front of you and setting a gentle hand on either of your upper arms. “Don’t fuck with my ego on my birthday, okay? You look light-headed, and not in the good way.”

You pull in a shaky breath to apologize even as your inner swoon meter heads for the clouds, but Tony fucking Stark sends it to the moon instead by setting a finger on your parted lips. You’re completely captivated by the march of emotions that cross his face-- amusement, apology, and ardor, before he lands on a sternness that is somehow sexier than any of it.

“I see how I just made it worse,” he says, stepping back with a sheepish expression. “I’m still calibrated to birthday babes, not engineering ones-- yep, that’s still-- okay,” he scrunches up his face and then grins, glancing over his shoulder to their growing audience, crossing his arms to look at you with studied curiosity. “Are you telling me you put on that dress so you could sneak into my party and ogle my… inventions?”

He has to know how well his tailored suit sets off the pinnacle of all his inventions right there in his chest!

“Not just that. I did want to meet you, I just didn’t think about--” you break off as he shoos away a few persistent, nosy guests and herds you into a more darkened area of the balcony. “This is your element, not mine,” you finally confess.

The understatement of the century.

“And if I could be in your element, what would that look like?” His tone is different now, sounding less arrogant, less persuasive, but more real.

Getting what you want shouldn’t be this easy. It feels wrong, tainted, and you back up out of a sense of responsibility, almost as a ‘fuck you’ to Nick Fury and his ability to turn the truth into something morally reprehensible.

“T-shirt and jeans. Coffee. Sitting on the floor talking about inventions. God, what am I doing here?” you groan.

“Tony!” someone calls out from inside, leaning out the glass door, obviously drunk.

Stark throws up a peace sign in reply, but he’s looking at you like a particularly interesting design problem. Natasha’s getting her way, and you feel like shit about it, because you want his attention, just not like this. Not planned, not calculated. You’d warned Nat that you were arriving, did she pull him over to stand where he would see you when you walked in? 

“Stop that,” Stark says, eyeing you with the expression of a concerned boss. “You’re starting to look queasy again. Tell you what: you want me to enjoy the party? You wanted to stand back and be a wallflower? Do that. Just don’t leave. Lemme get a chance to talk to you after you’ve loosened up a little.”

“Oh, I can’t drink! I have work to do when I get back home. It’s either that or first thing in the morning,” you laugh regretfully. “Besides, I get more shy when I drink alcohol. I’d just chameleon myself right into the woodwork.”

“You need time, you’re saying,” he murmurs, looking past you toward the ocean. A fleeting look of sadness crosses his face before he squares his shoulders and makes eye contact again, fully back in Playboy Persona. “I don’t believe you. Everyone loosens up with alcohol!” Suddenly, he snaps his fingers. “In fact, whatever you don’t drink? I will. Down your fair share or take the blame for how completely smashed I’ll get.”

Whatever it was you’d almost glimpsed has evaporated completely. Stark’s trying to corner you, just like Fury had done, and you react as you usually do in that situation. You lash out. “I think you already planned to get very drunk. You’re trying to manipulate me,” you say harshly, crossing your arms. The action pulls at your shawl, and you clutch at it.

“Sure, I’m the one manipulating you, when you show up dressed like a present for me to unwrap, playing at being uninterested,” he says, advancing on you like a predator. There’s a light in his eyes that tells you you’ve activated the reckless streak Fury warned you about, but it’s not anger, just intensity. It’s vulnerability and vanity all at once, loneliness covered by an iron carapace. “Who sent you? What’s your name? What’s your company’s name?”

“My name is Cat. My company is Envision,” you say quickly, avoiding your real name and slurring the actual name of the company into the word its name is based on. EnvisIron’s name is a play the building itself, which used to be an Iron Works. The foundry had been converted first into apartments, and then into storefronts on the bottom floor. There’s no way someone with Stark’s ego will believe that your company’s name has the word ‘Iron’ in it without that having anything to do with him, even though you and your partners named it before he ever created his first Iron Man suit.

Stark looks at you with put-on suspicion, probably because you dodged the first question. You can tell it’s fake because he’s holding back a smile even as he narrows his eyes at you. It’s really attractive, and you wish that there really was a world where you could hang out with him in scruffy clothes and chat. Nothing about the way he’s spoken to you tonight has implied the kind of classism you’ve seen people complain about from the uber rich. You already had a favorable opinion of him despite all the stories about his antics in the press, and that just raises it more.

“It was nice to meet you, Cat. I’ll talk to you later. Don’t forget, have a drink. Have a few. Save me from myself.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” you blurt out in reluctant compassion, hating both the sentiment and the comparison to what Nick Fury had said less than an hour ago.

Stark had walked away, but he stops and looks back at you. Something happens when you lock eyes; he looks caught out, as if he was planning something self-destructive, and you’ve momentarily made him reconsider. Not more than three seconds later, though, he shakes his head.

“You know what to do to stop me, Kitten,” he says. The quick smile he flashes you is defensive, hurt, and you decide that he must see you as some kind of proxy for an argument with someone else. After all, you’ve just met. You don’t know each other at all.

You watch Stark walk away from you and desperately wish something was different. You wish that Nick Fury hadn’t spoken to you. That you weren’t afraid that Stark only wants you to get drunk so he can pry your shawl off, rather than actually talk to you person to person. You wish that you didn’t care that he might want to pry the shawl off. That you actually were the kind of woman he seems to wish you were. 

You wish that Natasha hadn’t invited you at all.

Despite how overwhelmed you are, you do try.

Stark nurses a drink for the first fifteen minutes after walking away. A few partygoers try to talk to you, but their conversation is vapid and uninteresting for the most part. Mostly they want to know what Stark said to you, whether you know each other, if you’re dressed like you are for a purpose (question complete with eyebrow waggling and voices dripping with innuendo). 

You catch Stark looking over at you and noticing that your hands are still just holding your gold clutch and no drink. He holds up a finger, reaches over to snag a full glass from a server’s tray, and downs it in ten seconds. Then he points at you, making an 0 with his fingers, then at himself, holding up a 2, stripping off his jacket and tossing it behind the bar. It knocks over a bottle, and he shrugs, pulling out a bank note from his wallet and handing it over to the bartender while holding your gaze the entire time.

If you could survive taking a swing at Natasha, you almost would. This entire situation is spiraling out of control, and all you did was be yourself! 

You try to strike up a conversation with one of the waitstaff, but that can only last a short while, since you know they’re working. When you see him next, Stark’s got a third drink, and it’s half gone.

That’s when you give up and go to get a drink of your own. You ask for the weakest drink possible, of the smallest amount. The plan is to nurse it, since you know Tony Stark would figure it out if you tried to fake it. Just in case, though, you ask the bartender if he’d be willing to just hand you an empty glass to hold.

“I actually do that for alcoholics stuck at parties like this, but I can’t, not for you. Whatever competition you have going on with the boss is between the two of you.”

Everything gets much worse after only an hour.

Stark is wasted. Intellectually you know that you can’t possibly be the sole cause of the night’s decline. He’d led a chaotic public life before the kidnapping and betrayal of his mentor, but you definitely contributed to his alcoholic brinkmanship.

A half hour ago he’d disappeared for a few minutes and come back wearing some parts of his Iron Man suit. He was already drunk by then, but he was still throwing you challenging looks. Stark had set up outside not far from you, allowing a succession of giggling women to fire the force weapon in the palm of his Iron Man suit into the night air. Natasha had dodged him, and you’d seen Ms. Potts walk outside with a wrapped present and turn right back around to leave after seeing him pretend to smack one woman on the ass during the transition of handing over his gauntlet to the next one.

You’re pretty sure Stark had been trying to single you out as the only woman who hasn’t gotten to try on the gauntlet, but you aren’t influenced by that kind of challenge. The more you shrink back and look uncomfortable, the more Stark seems to lean into his demonstrably destructive behavior.

The only reason you haven’t tried to leave is the worry Stark will do something even more attention-getting to stop you.

You’ve gotten Tony Stark’s attention, all right. In the worst possible way.

“Anyone else? No? Time for the main event, then,” he says. “Everyone inside. Come on, all of you. Every last one.”

He stands by the glass door, and you slip inside among a group of women who are drunk enough to throw their arms around you as if you’ve been a part of their cadre the whole time. Stark disappears for a few minutes after that, and you head for the front door.

It’s guarded.

A well-dressed man in front of you is ushered out with polite deference, but when you try to follow him, the man in the black suit you’d met when you first arrived steps into the space.

“Sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to stay put.”

“On a spectrum of asking politely to straight up kidnapping, what am I looking at, here?” you ask, pushed to your absolute limit. At least he has the grace to look ashamed.

“Nothing so serious. How about firmly asking?” He moves towards you, and you back up out of necessity. “Here’s the thing: he’s had a rough--”

“Year?” you interrupt.

“Something like that. Asked me to make sure you stuck around. Could you do that? Not if it’ll make you miserable, or anything, but--”

“Your boss is extremely drunk,” you point out. You know what you want to say, but it’s… drastic. Still, this man does look genuinely concerned, as if Stark was his friend rather than just his employer. For all you know, he is. “Look, Mr.--”

“Hogan. I’m his bodyguard, his--” the man sighs. “Sometimes, his minder. And it sure seems like he would mind if you left early.”

You nod, biting your lip despite the lipstick. “Okay, I’m going to say this, and maybe it’ll be enough for you to kick me out.” His eyebrows shoot up, but you’re committed now. You’ve never spent so much time feeling cornered in a twenty-four hour period in your life! It looks like you might have to ask your clients to grant an extension, because you barely have any brain cells active enough to rub together-- but who are you kidding? You're totally going to wake up in about fifteen minutes, and none of this absurdist unreality will have happened. It's actually surprising how disappointed you feel at the prospect.

The bodyguard clears his throat, and you realize you've just been standing there freaking out in silence.

"Right, sorry: There are lines, and neither of us are going to cross them," you say firmly. "He’s completely wasted in there, so no matter what he thinks is going to happen tonight, I’m not a rapist, and you’re not a kidnapper, are we clear?”

There’s actual relief on Mr. Hogan’s face, which is both strange and comforting. “Yeah, we’re clear. Thank you.” The sound of breaking glass causes both of you to look over in trepidation at the main party room. Hogan pushes past you, and you follow.

Stark’s holding court at the DJ booth with a microphone. He's wearing the Iron Man suit with the faceplate flipped up, arguing loudly with Pepper Potts, whose face is a mask of miserable politeness. You can’t hear what they’re saying to each other, but Natasha comes over and starts talking to Hogan.

“Can you tell the valets that we’re going to need them in about five minutes? This powder keg is about to go off.”

“Shit, okay,” he says. “Did you catch what they’re--”

“She told everyone the party’s over, and he started complaining that she’s no fun,” Nat says, letting her gaze slide over you as she frowns back at where Stark’s stepped forward to address the crowd again. 

Hogan's body language screams concern as he says,“All right, both of you stay out of the way if the crowd starts for the door, all right? Pretty sure he’d have my ass if either of you got trampled.”

With that, the bodyguard jogs out, and you can hear him calling to other people outside, indistinct but insistent.

You’re trying to come up with something not profane to say to Natasha about how you feel about all of this when Stark shouts something about an After Party and the crowd goes wild. 

Next chapter...

In this version of Tony's party, you're the only one in red! I'd like to think fate would adjust things to ensure that happens, even if it's not the version we see on screen.