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[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

4: UNDERCOVER MISSION

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The tension between you and Bucky builds during an undercover mission.

Word count: 4.2k

Warning: ongoing miscommunications, some dirty talk, Bucky Barnes being am awkward dumbass

The mission was simple, but you didn’t want to be the one taking part. It was an undercover op where you had to integrate yourself into a community of people who were high-ranking members of a terrorist organization. It was a challenge for the other Avengers to mask their infamy. So you and Bucky were the natural choice since Bucky was now unrecognizable from his appearance as the Winter Soldier. Also, times had progressed, and S.H.I.E.L.D. technology allowed him to disguise his vibranium arm with a hologram. The first time he had put it on, a look of sadness had crossed his handsome features. He had hidden it well from the scientists and engineers, but you could see it in his eyes, the hollow haunted glaze that made you long to throw your arms around his neck and hold him until he would smile and the small crinkles around his eyes would lengthen as this steel-blue orbs sparkled. But this wasn’t your place anymore.

"Jamie! Look how amazing you look!" Priya exclaimed. 

You rolled your eyes and scowled. Who had allowed her to attend the fitting in the first place? Glancing around, you couldn’t see anyone else who seemed to object to Priya’s presence. In fact, some of the men and women seemed to be more focussed on her appearance than they were interested in the success of Bucky’s holographic arm technology. 

"Yeah, it’s gotten better." Bucky flexed his bicep and opened and closed his fist, marveling at how realistic the skin looked. "Thanks," he nodded at the project lead.

"How does it feel, Jamie?"

 Bucky shrugged. "Can't feel anything."

"It looks so realistic! Will you wear it all the time?"

You were lost in tracing the contours of Bucky’s muscular back and shoulders when Priya’s words brought you back to reality. “He doesn't need to wear it all the time,” you snapped.

“No, of course not,” Priya replied calmly, as though you were one of her small patients throwing a temper tantrum. “But sometimes James doesn't like the attention his arm draws. It makes him uncomfortable. So it would be good to have an option for him to avoid people staring.”

She was right, it would be good for Bucky to be able to wear t-shirts without being stared at, or feeling ashamed or self conscious. You despised that Bucky had to hide who he was. He was a veteran and shouldn’t have to feel the need to hide the sacrifices he had made for his country. But his past as the Winter Soldier was well known, making him a target for drawing scrutiny. You gritted your teeth, trying to formulate a counter-argument but failing. It was excruciating watching Bucky put a loving arm around her, pulling her into his side. He used to do that to you, just never so publicly.

“Thanks, Doll. It’s good to have someone looking out for me.”

The urge to punch Bucky in the face was something you did your best to push away. “Yeah, you don’t really need me here.” You slipped off the table you were perched on and turned to walk away.

"Don’t you and Bucky have to pretend to be a couple?" Priya called after you. "For this mission?"

Her questions made you stop in your tracks. Had Bucky really shared the sensitive information regarding your mission with his girlfriend?

"Yeah?" you answered, cautiously.

“Shouldn’t you hang around and see how Bucky is in a relationship then?”

“Thanks Priya, but I don’t need instructions on how to act in a relationship.” Your tone was laced with the spite you felt.

"Cricket!" Bucky looked at you, angrily. 

You hated it. It hurt that he felt these emotions towards you. But you were desperate not to lose his friendship. In a way, you hated yourself for not having the courage to tell Bucky how you felt. And you knew that if you wanted to keep your friendship with him, you would be the one who needed to stay civil. It was harder that you’d originally thought. You were a good agent, you excelled at undercover work, but when it came to Bucky, you felt like you’d lost your mind. Your emotions were a rollercoaster ride and you often felt like you couldn’t hold back your screams any longer.

“I’m sorry, I-I-”

“It’s alright, Jamie.” Priya put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, that probably sounded really patronizing. I just want James… both of you to be safe.”

You nodded, a heat rising up your neck and reddening your cheeks. She knew. The pitying look on her face told you that she knew how you felt about Bucky. It was humiliating. This would have been the perfect time for the ground to open up and swallow you. But alas, of all the times you’d been surprised by the loss of integrity beneath your feet, this was the one time where the floor remained as sturdy as ever.

“Don’t worry, Cricket and I have been partners for a long time. We’ve got this. I’m sure she’ll take good care of me.” He turned to you and smiled softly. “She always does.”

You didn’t quite know how to interpret Bucky’s use of partners, he had always called you his friend. What had changed now? You returned his smile sadly. “I'll do my best.”

Bucky took the hologram off his arm and handed it back to its creator. “I'll come by tomorrow for this. Come on, Priya,” he put a hand on her back. “I'll take you home, I need to get an early night, we leave pretty early tomorrow.”

Priya smiled at him, “Sounds great, I can say goodbye properly there.”

With a heavy heart, you watched them leave before following at a distance where you wouldn’t have to hear their chatter. Bucky had never looked so animated before and jealousy burned inside you. So you decided to head back to your quarters where you could treat yourself to a comforting dinner and fall asleep to escape the pain and anxiety of what was to come.

*

Your alarm went off at 4.30am and you groaned, rolling out of bed. There was no time to lounge around, there was a mission to complete and you always set your alarm for the last minute. A quick bracing shower woke you sufficiently enough for you to dress in a light, comfortable travel outfit and grab some coffee in the kitchen at the end of your corridor. You finished making a coffee for yourself and were pouring the leftovers into a travel mug when a slightly disheveled Bucky made an appearance.

"Thanks," he grunted, taking the mug you offered him.

"I thought you were getting an early night?" you smirked at him.

"Always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?" he replied, sarcastically. 

"What happened? Goodbye took longer than expected?"

It was Bucky’s turn to smirk. "Actually, we ended up having to say it several times."

His words made your face fall and your eyes twitch dangerously. It was time to retreat from this conversation. "We should get going."

Bucky nodded, falling instep beside you silently. He had noticed the change in your tone.

"Cricket?"

"Is everything okay between us?"

"Yeah! Why do you ask?" Your face remained impassive, but your soul was screaming with fear.

"Things have changed so much. I guess… I was just checking."

"You don’t think we can do this?" you asked, trying to deflect from the real issue at hand. But your question held more depth than you cared to admit.

"It just feels like we’re not as … in sync as we used to be."

"And why do you think that is, Bucky?"

Bucky stopped walking. "Ever since I introduced you to Priya, you’ve built this wall between us. I don’t understand what your problem is, Cricket. She’s been nothing but nice to you."

You took a deep breath, knowing you needed to choose your words very carefully or the truth would come spilling out and the embarrassment would be unbearable. "I don’t have a problem with Priya."

"Then what is it? What is your problem?"

You tried to think of an answer, but the only words that your brain screamed at you were "I LOVE YOU!"

"I don’t know," you whimpered. You bit down on your lower lip to stop it trembling, but nothing could stop the tears building up in your eyes. You dropped your head to hide your face but not soon enough for Bucky to catch sight of the water fall from your eyes.

Bucky wrapped his arm around you, sweeping you into a much needed hug. He smelled like home. You missed his warmth, the closeness you’d had. Bucky’s sturdiness made you want to melt into him, to break down, to confess your feelings to him. But the vibration of your phone brought you back to your sad lonely reality.

"Hello?" you answered the device.

Bucky wiped a stray tear from your face with his thumb as he listened to Steve’s voice asking where you were.

"We’re coming, Steve." Bucky raised his voice so Steve would be able to hear him through the phone in your hand, before reaching over and hanging up the phone. "You gonna be okay?"

You nodded, sadly.

"I'm worried about you, you know that, right?"

"I'll be fine, Bucky. I won't fuck this up."

"Not the mission. Fuck the mission. I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine, Buck. But thank you… for caring."

The two of you reached the hangar bay where Steve was waiting impatiently with your mission packs. He handed them to you wordlessly, analyzing your faces for signs of concern. You avoided eye contact with him, hoping he wouldn't notice your slightly reddened eyes.

"This one's important. We all need this to work."

"We got this, Cap!" You saluted him with a grin plastered across your face.

Steve rolled his eyes at you and even Bucky couldn't help but smile as you led the way to the quinjet. Bucky was going to fly the two of you to a southern Italian resort where the conference was taking place. The conference was a cover for major arms dealers and Bucky would be posing as a representative to a S.H.I.E.L.D. fabricated 'bad guy’ named Zandor.

Bucky’s cover was James Road, Zandor’s right hand man and you were playing Sabrina Road, James's wife. You had been told to expect a high end affair at a deluxe resort where the various representatives would schmooze with each other, gathering intelligence and allies. You weren't worried about your safety, not with Bucky at your side, but you didn't want your cover blown or to fail to get what you needed.

Bucky had once told you that he had never felt like a ‘James’, Bucky was the only name he had really known. It always made you wonder why he never asked Priya to call him ‘Bucky’. You wondered how he would react to you calling him James for the next few days. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" Bucky interrupted your musings.

"Hmm?" You turned to face him, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many intrusive questions. For some reason, tears seemed too close to the surface for your liking these days.

Bucky set the quinjet’s controls to autopilot and swiveled his chair to face you. "Steve gave me something before we left. One of them is for you."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside it were a beautiful pair of matching wedding rings, made of a shiny rose gold. Bucky slipped one onto his finger and held his hand out, palm facing up. But the other ring wasn’t what he was offering. He was holding out his hand for you to take, so he could place the ring on your finger. What you wouldn’t give for that moment to be real!

"Here, hand it over." You snatched the ring unceremoniously out of the velvet box, your heart pounding. The metal was cool against your skin, and you marveled at the delicate craftsmanship. The rose gold glimmered in the soft light of the quinjet’s cabin, casting a warm glow.

Bucky’s eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the ring back from you. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. For a moment, the world outside the quinjet ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, suspended in this charged atmosphere.

He held your hand gently, turning it so your palm faced down. The ring slid onto your finger smoothly, a perfect fit. He wanted nothing more than to hold on to you forever, lost in the comfort of your touch and your eyes.  You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. His cerulean eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and determination. It was as if he was silently saying, this is real, even if it’s just for this mission.

"James," you whispered, testing out the name. It felt strange on your tongue, yet oddly right. He didn’t flinch or correct you. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

"Sabrina," he murmured, his lips brushing your knuckles. The intimacy of the moment stole your breath away. You wondered if he could hear your heart racing.

The quinjet hummed around you, cocooning you both in its metal embrace. Outside, the world continued to spin, but here, in this stolen instant, time stood still. You wanted to believe that this wasn’t just part of the mission—that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between you and Bucky.

But reality crashed back in. The mission, the danger, the arms dealers—they all loomed ahead. You couldn’t afford distractions. Not now.

"Thank you," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "For this."

Bucky’s smile was bittersweet. "We’ll get through this, Cricket. Just like we always do."

And with that promise hanging in the air, you both returned to your roles—the undercover couple, James and Sabrina Road. But as the quinjet soared toward Italy, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission held more than just secrets and lies. Perhaps, hidden beneath it all, there was a chance for something real.

The rings on your fingers seemed to whisper their own silent vows, binding you together in this dangerous dance. And for now, that was enough. 

*

Bucky landed the quinjet in a small isolated airspace that had been predetermined to be safe by S.H.I.E.L.D.. Nat had scouted the area a few days previously and ensured an SUV was waiting for you. Both of you changed into casual holiday clothing.

Bucky’s transformation was nothing short of remarkable. The once stoic and battle-worn soldier now stood before you, bathed in sunlight, a vision of rugged charm. His light blue shirt clung to his broad chest, the top buttons undone, revealing a tantalizing hint of skin and chest hair. Beige slacks hung low on his hips, tailored to perfection. The aviators perched on his nose lent an air of mystery, shielding eyes that had seen too much. He was beautiful.

And then there was you. In a pink floral print summer dress, you were a burst of color against the backdrop of wilderness. The fabric swirled around your legs as you turned, catching the sunlight like a thousand petals. Bucky’s jaw dropped, mirroring your own reaction. His gaze traced the delicate curve of your collarbone, the soft slope of your shoulders. The air crackled with unspoken tension of the last few weeks.

The change in location seemed to have freed you from the burden of your emotions. There was a thrill of anticipation that bubbled inside you. Was it excitement or anxiety? You never could be certain, but you felt it at the start of every mission. It was you and Bucky against the world and there was no one else you'd trust more with your life. Steve and Nat had brainstormed a few ideas for James and Sabrina’s relationship but they left the details down to the two of you. They had decided that the couple you were playing would be newly weds, as Nat always said, people were uncomfortable with public displays of affection. They had even gone as far as securing the honeymoon suite for your stay. 

As the bellhop ushered you and Bucky into the honeymoon suite, the room unfolded before your eyes, a symphony of silk, candlelight, and rose petals. The air hung heavy with anticipation, like a secret whispered in the dark. The bed, a grand centerpiece, stretched out like an invitation, an intimate promise.

Yet, despite the plush surroundings and the illusion of newlywed bliss, unease settled in your chest. You stole a glance at Bucky, his features were etched in sunlight and his eyes, usually steely and guarded, now held a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in a long time. Perhaps it was the flickering glints of light between the net curtains or the soft strains of music playing in the background, but this charade felt more real than you’d anticipated.

The bed loomed large, its expanse inviting yet treacherous. It was a stage, and you were the actors, playing roles scripted by someone else. You remembered the nights when Bucky’s warmth had chased away your nightmares, the way his fingers traced constellations on your skin. But this bed wasn’t meant for whispered confessions or stolen kisses, it was but a prop, a cruel reminder of what you couldn’t have.

You glanced at Bucky again, wondering if he felt the same dissonance. His jaw was clenched, and his gaze lingered on the bed. Did he remember the nights in safe houses, huddled together for warmth? Or was this just another mission, another mask to wear?

"I guess this is a bit of a waste, huh?" Bucky commented, dismissing the tension.

You forced a laugh. "Let's get this over with."

Bucky followed you out of the suite, his awareness heightened by the people milling around. As you were about to mention their presence to him, his arm slid around your shoulder. You smiled up at him, perhaps the bond between you hadn’t completely faded. In the lobby, a lounge area beckoned, its bar opening onto a sunlit terrace and pool.

"What do you think, James? Too early for a drink?" you asked.

"It’s always happy hour somewhere, baby," Bucky replied with a charming smirk.

He ordered drinks for both of you, and you settled near Nadal, your target, who was downing mimosas as if his life depended on them. He was an older Latino man who was not only handsome, but impeccably groomed. He was dressed in casual clothing, but his attire radiated power nevertheless. Bucky placed your drink in front of you, sitting close, his arm around your waist.

"Time to put on a show?" Bucky inquired.

You smirked, sliding onto his lap. "Jameeeeeeees," you whined loudly. "I thought we were on holiday. Is this why you didn’t want to take me to Hawaii? You’re always working. What about me? I have needs too, you know!"

It worked—Nadal’s attention was now squarely on you.

Bucky chuckled, locking eyes with the target. "Women!"

"Can’t live with ‘em," Nadal drawled.

"Can't fuck anything else."

You stiffened with surprise with Bucky's language. You noticed he was more reserved about using foul language, you had always chalked it up to being Steve’s influence. Now that Bucky had Nadal’s attention, they chatted amicably and you took the opportunity to make the most of your surroundings; identifying security cameras, bodyguards and escape routes. You hadn’t noticed how much you had been squirming around on Bucky’s lap, because his grip on your thighs suddenly became very tight, holding you still.

His action didn’t go unnoticed by Nadal. "Save the action for the bedroom, kids!"

Bucky slapped your ass, salaciously and you gasped. You hadn’t expected it, neither had you expected the rush of desire between your legs. "James," you whined. It was clear that your role on this mission was mostly to cast suspicion away from your partner, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t play your part well. "You promised me you wouldn’t do that in public. You know what it does to me," you pouted.

"Better not let the little lady down, Road." Nadal winked, rising from his seat. "What room are you two in?"

"Managed to bag the honeymoon suite, for this one."

"Ahh, so it’s you I lost out to?" he chuckled. "Well my husband and I will be next door. Try and keep it down, your wife seems like a screamer." With that Nadal left you and Bucky alone in the bar feeling uncomfortable in more ways than one.

"Guess we’ll have to give them a show tonight," you grumbled, dropping out of Bucky’s lap.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, but from the way he was gazing off into the distance, you weren’t totally sure he was listening.

"What is it?"

"The competition."

"Great," you mumbled. "Guess we gotta get access to the intel before they do."

"What do you think our chances are if we play it by the book?" 

"Slim, they look like they mean business. And they probably have the funds to challenge our bid."

"Should we go back to the room? Nadal is probably expecting some… noise." Bucky looked uncomfortable as he spoke.

"And we’ll be better equipped to know if they leave their room."

It didn’t take long for the two of you to saunter back to the suite, Bucky’s hands were all over you and you couldn’t help but wish that it was voluntary rather than duty. You kept up a shrill giggle to make people around you look away. Once in the room, neither of you seemed to know how to proceed. Bucky had never been forthcoming with his feelings at the best of times, often switching them off when it came to work.

"So, umm… so what now?" you asked.

"He’s probably in there right now." Bucky put his ear to the wall as you waited silently for his assessment. "Someone's moving around, don't hear any talking."

"Set up a camera so we know when they leave?" You pulled a small device out of your bag, tossing it to Bucky. "There was a plant on the table outside."

Bucky didn't need to be told twice, he was out the door and back in under 30 seconds.

"Wait!" You whispered urgently. "Slam it shut."

Bucky complied with your request, with a confused frown. His eyes went from narrowed to goggle-like as you moaned loudly.

"Ohhhh James!"

Bucky gave you a horrified look before mouthing at you across the room. "What’re you doing?"

"James, I want you!" You delivered your line with as much lust as you could muster. Smirking at him, you dropped your voice. "Giving them the show they're after."

"Oh God, you make me so wet. I love when you push me up against the wall."

You motioned wildly at Bucky, who rolled his eyes and threw himself against the wall of the neighboring room for effect.

"I've been waiting for this all day. I want you so bad. Here, feel!"

Bucky closed his eyes, a deep flush darkening his face as you looked at him expectantly.

"God, you're so wet, baby." Bucky's voice was husky. And for a moment you wondered how he sounded in bed.

Focus! You told yourself.

"Only for you, baby. I can't get enough of you touching me. I want your fingers inside me." You continued, pressing your face against the wall.  "I can't wait until I get to rip these pants off of you."

"What do you want me to do to you?" Bucky eventually found words to contribute, having turned away from you.

You loudly moaned a few more times for effect. "Come on Mr Road, my badass arms dealer husband, you can do better than that!" you goaded him in a whisper.

"Are you serious?" he muttered.

"Tell me how much you want me," you cried.

Bucky thought for a moment, before choking out. "I want you so much, baby. I want to feel myself inside you and I want to fuck you so hard. Now get on the bed." Not once as he spoke did he make direct eye contact with you. 

Was it wrong that his words had your cunt clenching uncontrollably? You fanned your face before you noticed Bucky pointing at the bed. Oh right! You flung yourself on the luxurious mattress, making sure that it rocked against the wall. "Please James, I want you inside me." Your voice was suddenly breathless.

Bucky sat down on the other side of the bed, tugging at the crotch in his pants. They seemed to be tighter than they were before. He used his legs to rock the bed.

"Fuck me, James, fuck me harder." You crawled up to the headboard rattling it enthusiastically. "Whatever you do, don't stop."

Bucky moaned. It was a good thing he was facing away from you, he thought as he pressed his palm over his growing erection.

"That feels so good, B-James. Oh my god, I'm gonna come." You squeezed your legs together, trying to control the throbbing between your legs. Bucky’s name had almost slipped past your lips, and you hoped he hadn't noticed.

"I'm going to make you come so hard." 

"JAMES! OH YES!" you screamed.

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[karlachismylife]

Tough Spot || The Queen of the Clan pt.2

CW: fem!chubby!reader, mentions of animal marking/spraying/urinating

When you took a break in trying to get your behaviorist degree and took off to partake in this documentary on a whim, you certainly were prepared that it won't meet the highest expectations - life isn't a movie, after all, so perhaps you weren't hoping to find the purpose of life magically after you somewhat lost the direction, or to make an earth-shattering discovery that would turn behaviorist world upside down and earn you a place among scientific hall of fame. A distraction from an all-consuming apathy that creeped up in your life, perhaps, some useful experience close to your field of interest. Some connections and friendships, if nothing else - these were your (pretty reasonable) expectations.

Definitely not having to share a tent with a man you barely knew, because a huge hyena sprayed its stink all over your things, making it impossible to stay near your posessions for a long period of time.

Sure, lucky you - most of your stuff inside the backpack was very salvageable, your clothes and food intact. But everything that got under a direct attack - your little tent, sleeping bag, your favourite thermos and a little sitting mat, all that was most definitely due for a deep clean with some heavy scent remover, and your crew was in for a filming trip for the next several days without returning to your main dislocation at a sanctuary just next to the nature reserve you were filming in. So no cleaning and washing for you in aproximately a week. In short - you would've been fucked, sleeping in a smelly tent and sleeping bag or completely unprotected in a roofless vehicle, if not for Kir.

As you stand there with an apologetic expression on your face, hands clenched guiltily, he just laughs all your muttered thanks and apologies off, flashing you the friendliest of smiles as he sets up his own tent. A true knight in shining armor (some cargo pants and a blank, tight-fitting T-shirt in his case), Kir doesn't even let you help, telling you that your chatting is more than help enough as he prepares your new sleeping arrangements. Out of everyone on the crew he was the first to offer you to share his tent, and the fact that he had a backup sleeping bag only nailed the decision in.

"Don't worry, it's not a bother at all. If I was a newbie and something like this happened to me, you'd help me out too, I'm sure," he makes it hard to argue and feel like you're being a burden. Already a veteran of these filmings, Kir disctracts you from your upset mood with similar stories - about some scientist guy walking straight into a buffalo shitpile, a bunch of monkeys ravaging crew's backpacks and pulling out some poor girl's vibrator to play hot potato with it, a jackal finding one of the timelapse night cameras and flooding it generously... "They're animals, they just have a sense of humor like that. No one blames you for that guy taking a liking to you."

Kir's bright smile and cheerful words reassure you. He's being a gentleman about everything else too - allows you to take the higher ground to sleep there since the spot where his - and your now too - tent stands has a bit of an angle to it, lets you choose which sleeping bag you want, stays outside as you change for sleep even though you were perfectly fine doing it in the sleeping bag itself. The only un-gentlemanly thing Kir does is stay up with you until deep into the loud wild night, telling you more stories, already from his job at the sanctuary. As you whisper to each other and try to muffle your giggles, you hear rustling outside, someone walking around on soft paws, stopping several times at your tent and even sniffing loudly - you left your backpack nearby, unwilling to put the stinky thing into the tent. But the smell seems to work for you this time, since whatever it was, it leaves soon after.

In the morning you barely get out, a bit tired after your late night talkshow with Kir, only to learn that there were two hyenas in the camp - a bunch of the crew are crowded around a patch where the parprints are especially visible, getting the footage just in case it'll make into the final cut. One of the scientists measures the prints and estimates the sizes of both hyenas: both could be up to 1,8 meters in length judging from how wide apart their footprints lay. In other words - fucking huge, even for spotted hyenas.

"You think your friend from yesterday came with a buddy to spread some more perfume?" You scrunch your nose at Kir's joke and rush to check on your backpack, but it doesn't seem to be chewed on or reek worse than yesterday. Great news, honestly, since you'll be driving with that thing tucked into the back of a Land Rover while you follow the path of the lion pride you should be filming.

The sun is alredy high up and pretty ruthless by the time you come across any significant wildlife - and it's not lions, but something equally good for the documentary: a big herd of zebras. Once again, you are mesmerized, majestic striped horses so close to you that it doesn't seem real. They are aware of your crew's presence, but stay chill, perhaps seeing people and their weird appliances not for the first time.

Following your instructions, you carefully tread the tall grass to move a bit further from the parked vehicles and take some shots of the herd; you choose your favourite zebra - a mother with a little baby waving it's puny tail and constantly shoving its adorable snout under mother's belly for milk - and zoom in on her, setting quite a neat shot. After you settle the videocamera, you take out your personal one to take some photos, but suddenly the zebras perk up, ears twitching and chewing coming to an end. You lower your camera at first, confused by their reactions - you didn't hear anything? - but then lift it up againt to search for the source of zebras' worries through zoom.

And source of worries you find.

Two hunched silouettes, out in the open, dark manes fluffed up and tails in a clearly aggresive stance - a couple of enormous, compared to the zebras, hyenas are creeping up to them, hind legs tucked up under their bulky bodies, ready to pounce... and then one of them, a smaller one with darker fur, darts forward.

A hunting hyena is an impressive view, their speed exceeding what one might expect just looking at their burly, asymmetrical builds - but exactly that legs length difference allows them to speed so fast that your camera struggles to capture them. But what's impressive onscreen, is fucking terrifying in real life.

Because a herd of zebras is panicking at the sight of a predator closing in on one of them, and in panic they start to run.

You're in their way.

The sound of dozens of hooves hitting dry, solid ground mixes with your own blood pumping in your ears. In an act of brain malfunction, you somehow find yourself more worried about the expensive camera (it's not even yours) being trampled than yourself, and try to pick it up with the tripod - seconds dragging on like molten resin boiling under the cruel noon sun. The ground is trembling under the scared animals, dust and dry grass up in the air.

A high-pitched sound breaks you out of stupor. Loud cackling with an undertone of alarm gets closer too, and as you stumble backwards, a big dark form zooms past you, rushing fearlessly towards the fear-crazed zebras. It's reckless even for a carnivoure they're afraid of: nothing can guarantee that the herd will stop or turn away as the hyena approaches them head-on, and you prepare yourself to witness a gruesome scene of a hunter falling by the hooves of hunted.

But it somehow works. Last moment, the zebras notice the hyena flying at them with a scary laugh and change the direction of their fleeing route, less lucky among them falling and getting pushed over, but hyenas - more of them now, four, it seems? - don't bother pouncing the fallen ones, putting all their efforts into... simply chasing their prey away?

Confused and still stunned into a frozen mode, you watch the little baby zebra buck its tiny legs at a hyena barking at it lazily and clamping its huge maw, capable of crushing huge bones, on thin air. Trotting for a few more meters, the predator stalls and then simply turns away, casting you a glance before slowly treading back to its buddy. The one whose disheveled mane and wide stance you recognize immediately.

Blinking, you finally find yourself able to collect your equipment, although with trembling hands - your shoulders are still tense in a protective manner, and you flinch, when Kir rushes to you to help with the heavy camera.

"Oh my god, are you okay? I thought I'd shit myself when I saw them running at us," he looks sickly, you're probably no better. You dump the tripod and the camera into his arms happily, clutching your own, and walk on stumbling legs back to the rover.

You're met with a pair of bit wet eyes when you finally get to the car.

Somehow a single hyena - where did its buddies go? - doesn't seem all that scary after you nearly avoided being stomped by a hundred zebras, so you take a few more steps before finally remembering to be cautious. Kir is just a few meters away, loading the camera into the car, so it means he walked past the hyena unharmed, right?

You don't get to ask that question or shoo the animal away: just like yesterday, it appears up next to you in a gracious pounce, nuzzling your hip again. The noise that leaves its throat is absolutely horrid, an annoying screeching, sightly hoarse and just as high-pitched as its laugh. Wagging its tail, the hyena circles you several time, bumping into your legs - each time you don't respond or move, the screech gets only louder, until you give up.

"Stop it! Hush! S-stop yelling, shut up!" Bold of you to try and order a wild animal around. Maybe that's exactly why it works - the noise cuts off abruptly, the hyena taking a step back to plop its chonky ass on the ground. It looks at you just like a tamed dog would - mouth slightly agape in a toothy smile, head tilted and ears fluttering, as if it's eager to hear what else you have to say.

You're not made of steel to stay indifferent an wary at this sight.

"Huh. So you do listen sometimes. I guess you just hated my backpack that much," you still grumble at the hyena, and it flattens its round ears with guilt, slowly dipping down to the ground. Aren't they supposed to be like cats? But this one looks at you with the definition of puppy eyes. "You could've done worse... and I guess you saved me today. Thank you, Stinky."

The hyena lights up and sits back up with its chest puffed out as it hears you acknowledge the way it steered the scared herd away from you and your crew, but all its pride fizzles out as soon as you give it a name. You get a disapproving look and a loud giggle, clearly mocking your sense of humor in naming the hyena.

"Don't look at me like that, I can't sleep in my own sleeping bag now because of you. Have to share a tent with Kir," you nod at the young man sitting in the driver's sit with an amused expression, and the hyena turns to look at him too. Judging by the way Kir's smile fades, the look he recieved from the animal wasn't a kind one.

"Come on, we have to get a move on, still about fifty kilometers to cover today," he mutters, and you try to move past Stinky (oh yes, you're keeping the name) to the car, but it suddenly jumps to its feet and barrels at you again, rubbing at your legs and nuzzling your thighs. It even shoves its snout into your crotch, tail flailng up high, but the loud sound of an engine starting right behind it finally scares the weird animal away. It trots to the side, stops to look at you again, as if checking if you're still stumbling after being scared half to death by the herd, then resumes its leisurely pace, waving its tail.

You huff, getting into your seat, and dust your pants of some coarse fur the rascal left.

"Weird fucking guy," you mutter about the hyena more to yourself than yo Kir, who already jokes about you being a hyena whisperer. "And stinky, too."

You'll just have to hope his buddies won't try to follow into his pawsteps.

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 3

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

Tagging: @elaineiswithyou-blog

[luna-andra]

Domesticated!König Headcanons: Meeting the future In-Laws ✨

Image: @Skavod29 on Twitter (Source)

I was floored by how much attention my first headcanon post got. Y'all had me fucking emotional and I am so happy it's something people actually like. It keeps me coming back to post more of my silly little ideas. Forever grateful for your support! ❤️

I also need to reiterate that my blog/posts are 18+ so MDNI, this one has some NSFW bonus HCS 💋

If you missed the first one, here :) StepDad!Konig is here!

I got other stuff! Masterlist pinned on my blog

When you decided it was time for your parents and König to meet, you were tempted to slip a Xanax into his morning coffee. It is not like he hasn’t said a polite hello and a few words over the phone or when you facetime them, but now he was finally meeting them in person. You’ve seen him more calm talking to two- and three-star generals than this, the kinds of things that rattled your nerves.

You swore he changed attire more times than you did. The sight of him re-rolling his sleeves on his button up shirt made you intervene before he undid them all over again. He paused when your hands held his, then flicked his azure eyes up to you. “They’re gonna love you, my king.” Your gentle smile and comforting words got through to him.

They welcomed you and the mystery man with open arms at their front door. Mom never knew how to keep her thoughts to herself, but she really did mean well. Of course, the first thing they all notice is how König has to duck under their doorway to come inside. “You weren’t lying when you said he was tall,” mom said. You gave her a warning look followed up with an apologetic smile to König. He managed to chuckle it off, it was nothing new for him. It did make him curious about what else you’ve said to your mom about the two of you.

You gave König a tour of your childhood home, nearly having to pry him from the wall of photos of you and your family. He had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face of the little timeline displayed in pretty frames; your first elementary school photo, a photo of you in a boy/girl scouts uniform, another of you during extra-curricular activities (band/orchestra, JROTC, sports, theater, robotics team, etc.), a prom photo with you and old friends, and lastly your high school graduation picture. König wanted a copy of one of them to keep in his wallet, mom promised to get him one behind your back.

König's field day got better when you showed him your childhood bedroom. Depending on how you last had it decorated, you were either low key bashful or regretting even showing him. It was like traveling back in time for him, giving him a glimpse of the kid and teen, you used to be. A chance to fall in love with every facet of you.

He was getting more comfortable when he found out your dad wasn’t out to get him as much as he thought. They ended up sitting in the living room, talking about a topic after your dad played twenty questions to figure him out. Something either about guns, hunting, hiking, fishing, blue-collar work, and if your dad is a veteran, they got along faster than you could imagine. You and mom caught up in the kitchen as you helped her finish up with cooking and setting the table.

If you have siblings, they showed up in the nick of time before dinner, to share embarrassing stories of you when you were a kid, or the stories you all waited to tell when you all were adults to avoid from getting in trouble. König watched and listened as you got more animated with laughter. Loving every second of this. He had a handful of memories he could count on his hand that were of happier times, but your memories became his favorite ones.

Everyone pestered the two of you for the story of how you met. And since you’ve been doing most of the talking, you looked to König to tell the tale. Your eyes never left him as he started the story from his point of view, recollecting the moment he saw you and how he was trying to come up with an excuse to try and talk to you. It donned on you that this was the first time you were hearing the way he saw you. “And now we’re here,” he concluded, looking over to you with a grin and a touch to your hand underneath the table.

NSFW Bonus:

König couldn’t stop thinking about taking you in your childhood room, nearly fantasizing what it would’ve been like if the two of you met as teens/younger adults. Indulging in the idea of sneaking into your bedroom window or standing outside with a boombox in 80s/90s style fashion.

Of course, your parents offered you to stay with them, not wanting you to have to rent a hotel room or travel back (depending on how far away you lived from them), so the later the night got, the more distracted König became with fulfilling his dirty thoughts.

It was just like the old days, having you home and hearing the music coming from your speakers when someone passed by the doorway. You were just showing König your CD collection, right?

It definitely wasn’t because you were trying to muffle your moans and screams as he pounded you into that fucking mattress. Making you a drooling and brainless mess under his rutting hips. He kept praising you for taking him so well and for being so quiet like the good little fuck thing you were, making it harder not to cum so fast. Secretly, this was your fantasy too, and you wanted it to last a little longer than the 10 minutes of foreplay and fucking you had already endured.

Likes & reblogs are always appreciated! Stay tuned for more to this unexpected series! Asks are opened for requests & ideas for others.

[fanficsbyme-causeimgay]

Disclaimer: Image this in the Van Helsing werewolf design, please. I love that movie.

Imagine, if you will, the full moon.

Now— you were never superstitious or believed in the supernatural, but when it is running at you on all fours in the darkness of the street, with sharp white teeth and with a single red glowing eye? Then, you do believe in the supernatural. So you do the sensible thing: You forget about putting the trash out, closes the door, and says, "Nope!" Before simply locking all doors and windows.

You stay in your room, door locked and under the blankets, just to make sure nothing bad could get you— After all, monsters don't fuck with you if you got a blanket on, that's the rules! You ignore the weird whining sounds and the weird scratching sounds, and fear gives way to tiredness once the adrenaline fades away.

You wake up the next day, believing the whole thing to be a nightmare, a figment of your masochistic mind paying tricks on you.

Werewolves don't exist!

But neighbors do. And you got a new one!

The first time you met was just a tiny little bit surprising, but normal when context was given— His dog ran into your porch. He had this beautiful Black Labrador that had a harness that read [Service Dog] on it, and her collar had [Leyla] written on it. And she was looking for something? She was sniffing everything around. Apparently, she was a new dog and was still being trained, which explained a lot about her behavior.

"Oh, hi- I apologize for Leyla!" He was tall. Definitely taller than you. Maybe 6'6? The most striking thing about his appearance was the eyepatch on his left eye, a plain black one. He walked with a limp and had a darkish green jacket over a plain white shirt and tight shorts. "I'm your new neighbor, Kata." And oh, his voice was just like the best thing you've heard - It was beautiful.

You soon find out that he used to be in the military. He worked closely with the K-9 bomb-sniffing unit to help clean the fields, and sadly, a newly trained dog missed one of the bombs, which led to his incident. He seemed pretty open and sincere when speaking about his experience as a veteran, not shy to express and answer your questions even going further and above.

When asked why, he simply answered: "You just wanted to learn more about me, so I taught you more." With a smile that was, honestly, quite breath taking.

Regardless of your little interactions, nothing seemed to be going on - much to your dismay - because he was clearly very hot and showed interest in you. Maybe it was the "don't ask don't tell" thing that the military has? You felt silly thinking about it, mostly because he never showed clear interest, so you decided not to assume anything of it.

In truth, however, he was unhealthy obsessed with you. He was constantly spending hours of his day listening to your breathing, to your heartbeat, to your little noises that you weren't even aware you made! Did you know you have this habit of clicking your tongue when you're playing games and sometimes something you didn't want to happen happens? Did you know you hum the sound of commercial jingles sometimes? Did you know that when you're asleep, you're quite vocal about your dreams, even if what you're saying doesn't make any sense? Did you know you smell like soft petrichor mixed with tulips and brown sugar when you're relaxed? Did you know he likes to watch you sleep from the window? Did you know that sometimes he breaks into your room while you're asleep and just stands beside you? Did you know he can't control it?

It's in his very nature.

Like humans can't help but breathe, tell stories, eat, and lie - Werewolves can't help but obsess over their Mates. Their Soulmates. Their one and only. Their destined - Call it what you will, but he loves you in ways you can't ever hope to understand... He wants you so badly, you should be happy he isn't laying it thick on you, that he is controlling himself to not jump you and fuck you everywhere, that-

Oh.

The full moon is here.

It happened really easily. You were asleep when you heard a pretty clear and rough sound of snoring, alongside the heavy weight of an arm on you, a weird, smooth, and wet sensation on your neck, and the heat of a body hugging you from behind. You couldn't move your body. Was this sleep paralysis? You look down and see arms of black fur holding you tight, and although you're confused, your mind finds reason: This is just a dream.

Oh, a dream! Of course this is a dream.

You huff... This might not be the exact first time you've dreamed of a big werewolf man and probably won't be the last! What? They're hot!

What was hotter, however, was waking up with a naked man in your bed. It was a shock at first, mostly because you're pretty sure you didn't have Kata sleeping in your bed last night...? Right? Was the dream about the werewolf his brain making up something to summarize or excuse Kata's presence in his bed? Dreams do that sometimes... But hey, looking at that dick was more than enough to make you forget about his presence for a few moments - It was, uhm, quite big.

"My eyes are up here..." His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and like his tone of voice, he was looking very smugly at you: "Well, eye. Singular." He chuckled at his own words, poiting at his lack of eye - In fact, an unnaturally dark hole was there, almost like darkness originated from it.

You ask him what he is doing in your bed. Naked as the day he was born - but much, much hotter (and legal!)

And that is when he drops the ball.

So... as it turns out, werewolves are real... And they soulmates, and you are Kata's soulmate... Although overwhelmed at first, curiosity overwhelms you because of the fucking implications. What else is real? Magic? Fairies? Wizards!? Do they go to walmart!? Also, do werewolves follow normal wolf biology - Can they smell really far, hear really well, and do they mate for life too? And, also, do they have knots? As a rather curious person, you asked them.

"Well... I can show you." He replied, taking your hand for a moment and hesitating: "I-if you want?" He was rather nervous - the truth is, although he seemed confident, he was quite nervous. A wolf needs to be strong for their Mate. What about him? He is crippled. He is weak. He isn't good enough...

"...show me." Although a bit oblivious to flirting, you wouldn't say no to this.

As it turns out, werewolves do, in fact, have knots. And they can knot even in human form!

[todaysdocument]

US Army (USA) Soldiers of Native American Indian heritage, participate in a game of Native American Indian Stick Ball 

Record Group 142: Records of the Tennessee Valley AuthoritySeries: Photographs Promoting the Use of ElectricityFile Unit: Chattanooga Electric Show

US Army (USA) Soldiers of Native American Indian heritage, participate in a game of Native American Indian Stick Ball during the Native American Inter-Tribal Pow Wow held at Al Taqaddum, Iraq, during Operation IRAQI FREEDOM. The Pow Wow was held to honor all past, present, and future Native American Veterans, and this events marks the first time that a Pow Wow was held in a Combat Zone by Native Americans

This color photograph shows a group of men and women mostly in green army t-shirts playing a stick ball game.  A small ball is in the air above them.  Three people hold short sticks.  The ground is all light colored sand.  There is a tall pole near the group.

[samheughanswife]

Personalities

Charles was first up for the panels. He was alone because DB was home with 🦠

What a delight.

A thoughtful, self deprecating intelligent man. Equals parts wicked and witty. Very thrilled to be in his first “adult” role. He loves 🇨🇦 his mum - who had watched OL and said “get it Charles” when he auditioned. He explained, what for me niggled, his over plucked eyebrows. He got the call to go to NY and was there for 3 days just to get his brows plucked. A mistake, never to repeated. Spoke about the strict work rules in 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 and overall beyond thrilled to be on OL. Loves the cast and crew. He is headed to 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 on 27/2.

So it’s on. Production.

Back story to the white t-shirts. A member of staff of Hub productions is also an aged care worker. She was viciously mauled by a dog at a clients home and is currently off work. The auction of the shirts and the funds raised will to be donated to her.

Charles was first up and was so taken aback with the increase in bids. His T-shirt went for $1K. He was so happy and thrilled.

Ian. What an articulate charming confident man. He knows who he is and can camp it up with so much confidence and passion. In 🇦🇺 with his grandmother. After Melbourne they are headed to the red centre, the Northern Territory continuing their trip together.

He was asked to give one word for S8, he had scripts for 2 episodes and said SIZZLING. He is an energizer bunny.

He was also Duncan’s hearing aid, so to speak.

Duncan is a veteran. Enjoys the benefits of Cons and the very close friendship with Sam. It was a stroll down memory lane and he did struggle to remember episodes. In his defense, it’s years ago and he isn’t involved now.

Both Ian and Duncan t-shirts were hits. Duncan was auctioned for $3K. Bidding was fierce and very close. Loads of Duncan/Murtagh fans.

It goes without saying the bidding for Sam’s T-shirt was fierce. $5,500 the winning bid. A lovely older lady next to me was an absolute dark horse. She wondered what Sam’s shirt would fetch - could it be $10K? Well at $2500 she bid for Duncan. Didn’t get it, was disappointed but had a smile.

She entered the bid at $5K for Sam’s but was beaten by a woman who had her husband with her. I was disappointed for the lovely old gal. A cancer survivor widow. She found OL during her cancer treatments and it gave her the push to travel. She was thrilled to be there and part of the day. I felt her joy and happiness.

Sam unprompted said he would match the final bid. So $11k for his drawing on the T-shirt.

The generosity of the OL fans was ♥️ $16K raised.

No one was forced. It wasn’t Sam mommies who bid - which is constantly thrown around. It was young women. They chose to part with their $$ for a woman none of us knew.

Let’s see how that is represented.

[kayleigh-83]

I updated my resources page to include a few programs & utilities I use that I think everyone would benefit from! Veteran players probably know at least a couple of these very well, but hopefully some players can benefit from this! Sharing the information here too so it can be saved more easily if anyone wants to. But the Resources link in my pinned post also has this section now.

------------------------------------------------------------------

This isn’t a comprehensive list of all TS2 outside programs and utilities I use, as some are more infrequent and specialized, or tailored to CC makers or intermediate and advanced builders. These are ones I use regularly and would recommend for your average player. 

Hood Checker - checks your hood and cleans it up to prevent corruption. Thanks to April Black’s work we now know corruption is far less of a risk than once believed, but this tool is still totally worthwhile to use regularly to clean your hoods I think. As April mentions in her video, the main categories you should be worried about Hood Checker finding errors in are Family Ties and Sim Wants and Fears (I’ve never had it find errors there and my hood has currently been played for over 6 years).

Object Relocator - Easy to use tool so you can recategorize objects, re-price them, and move them easily between build and buy mode. All things you can do with SimPE but far less fussy and way faster.

Outfit Organizer - Another tool that simplifies an established SimPE capability, you can very quickly change which outfit categories clothing shows up in, which age groups (assuming body type compatibility, it will not magically morph an adult outfit to fit teens for example), which gender (again assuming body type compatibility, for example all ages up through child have identical body types for male and female) and even shoe sounds where applicable. Really great if you want that fancy dress to only show in formal and not everyday, or if you’ve got the Separates For All mod and you want to make that really casual t-shirt available in the pajamas and gym categories too.

Sims2Pack Clean Installer - Sims2Pack file types are used for lots and Sims. This tool lets you see any and all CC that got packaged with the Sim/lot and remove anything you don’t want to download with a simple tickbox. I especially like to use this when downloading Sims with CC if I prefer to have a CC free version of them (ie: only their facial structure) and layer in my own CC in game. Also useful for lots if you see that there is a bunch of CC included from a build set you already have, and you don’t want to download duplicate files, or you just aren’t interested in any of the custom wallpaper the builder put in the house and you’ll put your own in when you place in  your game.

[fairbold]

War for Peace Premium T-Shirt

Price: $35.02

[hamsterclaw]

Five Fuck Friday

You and Namjoon pack up the apartment you used to live in. Part of the Love series.

Pairing: Namjoon x f! reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Sex, swearing

Word count: 1.5k

Your ex-husband Namjoon shuffles up to you, eyes barely open, hair rumpled, hood up. 

‘Here,’ you say, handing him the coffee you’d picked up on the way. 

He accepts with a mumbled ‘thanks.’ 

You know better than to try to engage him in any form of interaction before he’s been caffeinated, even though it’s not that early on a Friday morning. 

You fall into step beside each other as you head up to the apartment you previously shared when you were married. He adjusts his longer stride to match yours, hits the lift button. 

You sip coffee whilst you wait. 

The lift takes longer than it should, the mechanics of it always mystified you when you lived in this building. To be fair, at least it seems to be working, it used to be broken down half the time. 

You fumble with the keys as you reach your old front door. There’s a knack to it, an eccentricity of the lock that you’d mastered whilst you lived here. You’ve forgotten it. 

You’re frowning at it, trying to remember, when Namjoon mutters a ‘here’. 

His warm hand closes over yours, and with a flick of his wrist, the key turns in the lock and the door opens.

There’s an air of abandonment about the place now, it’s clean but empty, unlived in since you moved out. 

If you let yourself feel it, the sadness would be unbearable. 

You wonder if Namjoon’s awake enough to feel it too. 

You glance at him, and he’s brighter now, more awake.

‘We need to be done before this evening,’ Namjoon says. ‘I have plans tonight.’

Your ex-husband is incomparable in bed and someone you’d want in your corner in a fight, but sometimes, he has the emotional depth of a puddle.

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

‘Wouldn’t want cleaning out our emotional baggage to impinge on your Friday night,’ you say, unable to curb your sarcasm.

Namjoon blinks at you. ‘It’s five fuck Friday,’ he tells you.

‘What?’

It’s Namjoon’s turn to roll his eyes, you don’t even think he tried not to.

‘Five. Fuck. Friday.’

‘That’s not a thing.’

Namjoon just shrugs, starts stacking boxes in the living room.

‘What even is five fuck Friday,’ you mutter to yourself.

Namjoon’s got his back to you as he picks books up off the shelf, arranges them in neat stacks in a box.

He doesn’t answer.

‘Is it five fucks with the same person?’ you wonder as you pick up a box and head into the kitchen.

You think about it as you pack up the kitchen junk drawer.

Namjoon pops his head round the kitchen doorway.

‘Is it fucking five different people?’ you ask.

Namjoon just gives you a look as he takes the packing tape and black marker off the kitchen counter and disappears into the living room again.

You wrap glasses in paper, arrange them carefully in the box in rows.

‘Is it the variation? Fucking five different ways?’ you say, as you step past him to stack your filled box in the hallway.

Namjoon’s worked up a sweat, he’s shucked his hoodie and his thin white t-shirt’s sticking to his back as he arranges boxes neatly, one against the other.

‘Wait!’ you exclaim as he tosses a box on top of your glassware.

The resulting crunch of broken glass makes you flinch.

Namjoon, a veteran of broken crockery, is unmoved.

‘Sorry,’ he says, indifferent.

‘I think your aunt gave us those.’

Namjoon raises a brow, takes a swig of water.

‘Yeah?’

‘Never mind.’

You’re glad Namjoon’s being so businesslike and practical about packing up your apartment, at least you’re not tempted to dissolve in an emotional heap over the life you once had.

You’re trying to reach up to the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard when Namjoon says, ‘I can do that.’

He doesn’t even move you out of the way, instead steps up close to your back, arms over your head as he grabs the last glass.

For a moment you’re completely enclosed by his body, his chest pressed to your back, hips against you. He presses his face into your hair and breathes in, so quick you almost miss it.

You turn into his chest.

‘Joon-ah,’ you say.

He leans down, plants a kiss on your lips, then hands you the glass.

You reach for the front of his t-shirt, but he’s already stepped away.

‘Want me to pick up lunch from the deli?’ he asks, as he leaves the kitchen.

‘Sure,’ you say.

It’s only when the front door closes behind him that you can take a breath.

***

‘Is it a metaphor for what Friday’s like in comparison to the rest of the week?’ you ask.

Namjoon reaches out, thumbs mustard off the side of your mouth, licks it off his thumb.

He follows it up with a big bite of the sandwich he got from the deli, ignores your question.

You swipe his drink away as he reaches for it.

‘Oh my god, tell me what five fuck Friday is!’ you exclaim, exasperated.

Namjoon takes your drink instead, drains it empty with an obnoxious slurp. 

He tosses it in the trash bag, gets up from his seat.

‘I’m gonna start on the spare room, ok?’

You glower at his retreating back.

***

The sun’s starting to set when Namjoon reappears. 

He hasn’t said much to you all day, just focusing on packing. You guess he meant business when he said he had plans.

‘We can finish this tomorrow, can’t we? Most of it’s done.’

You look up guiltily from the album of old photos you’d been looking through.

‘Yeah, sure.’

If he notices what you’ve been doing, he doesn’t say.

‘I need to go take a shower before I go out,’ he says. ‘Do you need a ride home?’ 

‘Nah, I’ll finish off here and then go.’

He’s already leaving.

‘Hey, Joon,’ you call after him.

He turns. ‘Yeah?’

‘I’ll text you - if I finish up tonight we won’t have to come back tomorrow.’

Namjoon shrugs. ‘It’s up to you.’

He doesn’t look like he cares one way or the other. 

***

It’s past midnight by the time you finish. You hadn’t intended to stay so late but you couldn’t bear the idea of another day with Namjoon being distant and indifferent when you’re an emotional wreck.

You take one last look around, partly to check you’ve packed everything, mostly because you want to remember.

The kitchen counter Namjoon and you christened the afternoon you moved in. 

The crack in the kitchen window you made when you threw a fork after Namjoon forgot your first wedding anniversary.

The shower panel you once watched Namjoon masturbate behind. He’d put on a show for you, hadn’t let you touch him. It’s still in your memory as one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen.

The dent in the plaster hidden behind a picture where Namjoon had slammed his fist and accused you of cheating on him.

The turbulence of your relationship etched into the walls of the two bedroom you’d once shared.

The store cupboard where Namjoon and you had once hidden for twenty minutes at a dinner you’d been hosting for your families.

The conspiratorial smile on Namjoon’s face. The warmth of his mouth, and the weight of his body as he’d fucked you standing up, against the wall.

You’d come once, would have come again if Namjoon’s mother hadn’t come looking for you.

You swipe at your face, realising you’ve been crying.

Shit. You’re exhausted. 

There are no sheets on the bed, not anymore, so you pull on Namjoon’s hoodie instead, curl up and cry yourself to sleep.

You’ve always found his scent comforting.

***

You wake, disoriented, in the dark.

Namjoon’s spooning you, arm over your shoulders, face buried in the back of your neck.

He says your name, pulls you against him so you can feel how hard he is.

You help him pull your jeans down, pull his hoodie up, and then you’re bare skin against bare skin.

You can hear him spit in his hand, the slap of his palm against his cock as he touches himself.

Getting himself as hard as he can for you.

By the time he pushes into you, you’re ready.

He slides into you, coming back to you like he’s always belonged with you.

You can’t see his face. 

‘Baby,’ he says. 

There’s an edge to his voice, like he’s holding back.

His hand’s splayed over your abdomen, holding you taut to him.

You put your hand over his, knit your fingers through his, and he holds you tight, like he’s drowning, as you fuck.

He comes before you do, spilling inside you but still hard enough to make you come, gasping, face in the mattress as he strokes your clit.

Namjoon stays snug inside you, holding you so tightly it’s hard to breathe.

You’re scared to look at him, afraid of what you’ll see.

‘Five fuck Friday is made up,’ he tells you, mouth against your skin.

‘I thought so,’ you say, too fucked out to muster any more words.

There’s a long pause, you think maybe he’s fallen asleep. 

Then he says, ‘I don’t know how to be without you.’

The sadness in his voice punches a hole in your chest.

You turn over, face to his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as you hold him.

You comfort him the only way you know how.

He’s so dear to you, even after all this time.

After a while, his brow unfurrows, the lines in his face smooth out.

He sleeps in your arms.

When you wake in the morning, he’s gone.

©hamsterclaw 2023

[imagoddamnonionmason]

Basic Information

Other Name(s):  Nadežda Pugacheva (before brainwashing), Nadya (family and Perseus Operators), Nad (Keith), Jo (Mason, Woods), Bell (callsign), Auntie Dodie (Toddler!David Mason).

Physical Appearance

Eyes: honeyed brown

Hair: dark brown

Skin: white

Tattoo(s): none

Scar(s): shoulder, chest - gunshot wounds. Other misc. scars. 

Face Claim: Kate Beckinsale

Description: At first glance, Jodie seems to be quite plain, though this is something that she prefers given her line of work. Her hair is just past shoulder-length when she wears it down, but when working it is pulled up into a ponytail/low bun. There are some bangs that frame her forehead and sides of her face, which can be wayward when she attempts to tie them back, so usually leaves them alone. 

Her facial features are sharp, nestled on an oval shaped frame. Occasionally, when a situation calls for it, she will wear minimal makeup - she feels out of place when she does wear it, so often opts out of it. Her ears are pierced with a singular stud, but takes them out when on missions. 

As for what she wears, Jodie will often wear jeans and a plain grey t-shirt when in the safe house or her downtime, accented with a jean jacket, or cardigan if it’s a little cold. She does have a thicker, muted green winter jacket for colder weather. She also wears plain pumps. 

For missions, it’s often a muted green turtleneck, dark jacket and combat trousers, with military boots. She will also wear the appropriate paraphernalia attributed with operators to carry extra clips, lethals and other such equipment. 

Personality

Like(s): coffee, dogs, nighttime, rain, puzzles, cyphers, that people actually trust her, Frank's beard (if he shaves, she fights), intelligent conversation, her daughter (loves her so much)

Dislike(s): dark chocolate, when it’s so hot you can’t breathe, being snuck up on, being spoken about as though she isn't there, people questioning her loyalty or her integrity, being left out of important conversations that involve her, if anyone messes with her daughter, being judged based on her past, not having full recollection of her past

Strength(s): calm, efficient, loyal, fast thinker, keen eye for patterns and details, can be very patient, willing to compromise where needed, adaptable

Weakness(es): can be cold and mistrustful, can be very guarded even against those she trusts, lets past trauma rule her sometimes, even though loyalty is also her strength it can also be her weakness, her calmness can be taken as being cold, detached, even apathetic sometimes, at other times she can be stubborn and her anger can get the better of her. When she sees red, it's red.

Relationships

Parent(s): unnamed Russian mother, unnamed Russian father 

Sibling(s): Radomir Timofeyovich Pugachev aka Timosha

Friend(s): Sarah and Alex Mason, (after a time) Russell Adler

Spouse(s): Frank Woods

Child(ren): Ashley Woods

Biography

1949 - Nadežda’s family is captured by the MGB and sent to [redacted], an undisclosed Gulag within rural Russia. Father, a WW2 veteran, was executed at the time of capture. There were rumours that he was critical of the current government and had become belligerent with his negative opinion of his leaders. By extension, his family were heavily scrutinised and kept at the Gulag. Her mother passed away in the labour camp. Initially, Nadežda and her brother, Radomir, were kept there with their mother, until her death, then were sent to a children’s orphanage. 

1953 - Nadežda is approached by an old friend of her father’s, who said to have fought alongside him during WW2. He makes her an offer she can’t refuse and joins his ranks despite her young age. She did this as this old friend promised he could find a suitable family to keep her brother safe and grow up to live in a better Russia. From then, she trained to fight and became an excellent tool for Perseus to use. (He had been too late to ask for her father to join his ranks, but she was the next best thing in his mind.)

1958 - At the age of eighteen, Nadežda was ordered to join the KGB by Perseus, to work alongside comrades and earn their trust, so that he may learn ways to exploit them if the need arose in the future and to seek potential operators to join his ranks. She studied at the Higher Intelligence School in Moscow, where she extended her espionage knowledge.

1960 - [redacted].

1962 - Nadežda is ordered to collect information regarding growing US involvement in Vietnam. Any encoded information regarding US military operations is passed over Nadežda’s desk. Also ordered to decode any Russian intelligence regarding the Cuban Missile Crisis. 

1965 - [redacted].

1968 - encoded intelligence regarding Operation Fracture Jaw is decoded by Nadežda. 

1969 - [redacted].

1976 - Nadežda, alongside other Persues operators, rescues Vikhor “Stitch” Kuzmin.

[Following paragraphs are redacted.]

1979 - Nadežda makes contact with Special Officer, Keith Wells, offering crucial insight into Perseus’ organisation. What causes this change of allegiance is unknown to the CIA. Nadežda is informed by Officer Wells that there is a mole within the CIA and not to trust any other operator other than himself, as they could not risk the information crossing the palms of the wrong person. They come to an agreement that Nadežda would claim no knowledge of him in the face of possible interrogations, if ever that came to happen. 

[Following paragraphs are redacted.]

1981 - January 13, Nadežda accompanied Arash Kadivar to Trabzon airfield, Turkey. Subsequently, Kadivar shoots Nadežda after revealing that he knows of her betrayal. He states that it’s a shame one of Perseus’ top agents turns out to be nothing more than a traitorous dog. CIA operatives, Alex Mason, Frank Woods and Russell Adler assassinate Kadivar, preventing the weapons from leaving the country. Upon sweeping the tarmac for survivors, Adler finds Nadežda still alive with a dossier related to Perseus. 

Following Nadežda’s capture and recovery from her injuries, traditional methods of interrogation did not succeed. She had hoped that, due to her captors being the CIA, word of her capture might reach Officer Wells, as she intended to keep her word and say nothing of their interactions; after expressing, in one interrogation, that the only operator she would speak with was Officer Wells, she is informed that he was presumed KIA and possibly at the hands of a Perseus Operator. Nadežda does not know whether to trust this information, given what Officer Wells had said in the past and so kept her mouth shut out of loyalty to him.

Several weeks later, through psychological torture, neuroactive drugs and hypnosis, Adler, the CIA, alongside MI6 Agent Helen Park, brainwashed her. A connection was formed between Adler and Nadežda by use of fake, implanted memories inspired by Adler’s time in Vietnam with the success of implying a years-long friendship between the two. 

Nadežda was no more and Adler gave her the callsign Bell. 

Alongside this, a whole new persona was fashioned and Bell was an MI6 Agent, Jodie Hall, from London, England, though information of her past never went further than that.  

“We have a job to do.” was the common trigger phrase to keep Bell in check as well as slipping small amounts of neuro-stimulant drugs to Bell to keep their conditioning effective. 

Volkov is captured. 

Bell and Woods uncover a Spetsnaz training ground - encrypted information regarding Operation Greenlight is uncovered. 

KGB headquarters infiltrated with the help of Dimitri Belikov uncovering previously erased names of Sleeper Agents, who Perseus aims to use in their upcoming infiltration of Operation Greenlight. 

Sleeper Agent Theodore Hastings is followed to Cuba, where the mission goes south - Bell saves Park’s life but is unable to save Lazar. 

Adler and the team reveal Bell’s true identity, but she remains loyal to their cause, revealing the location of Perseus and the station which will be used to detonate the nukes aimed on half the world. Though she is confused, betrayed and angry, she understands this choice is the right one and, somewhere deep down, she knows she didn’t need the conditioning to have made it. 

Solovetsky is attacked and the nukes are stopped. 

Bell is MIA for a short while.

Once located, a deal is made with the CIA that she would offer her services and any information she had on the Perseus faction in exchange for starting a new life in America as her given persona, Jodie Hall.