#asset search services

[bankaccountsearch]

Tracking Hidden Wealth: The Role of Asset Search Companies and Investigation Services

Asset search and investigation services are specialized services designed to uncover hidden assets that individuals or entities may have concealed. These services are crucial for various legal, financial, and personal reasons, such as divorce proceedings, debt recovery, or corporate investigations. The following article explores the role of asset search companies, the process of hidden asset searches, and the value of asset investigation services.

Asset Search Companies

Asset search companies specialize in locating and identifying assets that may not be easily visible or accessible through standard means. These companies employ various techniques and tools to track down assets across different jurisdictions and formats. The services offered by these companies are essential for lawyers, financial institutions, private investigators, and individuals seeking to recover debts or enforce judgments.

Types of Assets: Asset search companies can locate a wide range of assets, including but not limited to:

Real estate properties

Bank accounts and financial investments

Vehicles, boats, and aircraft

Business ownerships and interests

Intellectual property

Personal property of significant value, such as artwork or jewelry

Methodology: The methods used by asset search companies typically involve:

Public records searches

Database checks

Surveillance and field investigations

Interviews with individuals who may have knowledge of the assets

Utilization of private and proprietary information sources

Legal Compliance: Asset search companies must operate within the legal frameworks of their jurisdictions. They must ensure that their methods of gathering information are ethical and comply with data protection laws and regulations.

Hidden Asset Search

Hidden asset search is a more specific term used to describe the investigation of assets that an individual or entity deliberately conceals. Such concealment may be for purposes such as avoiding tax liabilities, hiding wealth in divorce settlements, or evading debt obligations.

Why Assets are Hidden: Individuals may hide assets for various reasons, including:

To minimize tax liabilities by underreporting wealth

To conceal assets from a spouse during divorce proceedings

To protect assets from creditors or legal judgments

To engage in fraudulent activities or money laundering

Techniques for Uncovering Hidden Assets:

Financial Analysis: Reviewing bank statements, tax returns, and other financial documents to identify discrepancies or unusual transactions.

Forensic Accounting: Using specialized accounting techniques to track the flow of money and uncover hidden assets.

Lifestyle Analysis: Comparing an individual's reported income and expenses with their lifestyle to identify inconsistencies that may suggest hidden wealth.

Use of Informants: Gathering information from people who may have insider knowledge about the individual's assets.

Legal Support: Hidden asset searches are often used in legal contexts to provide evidence in court. For instance, in divorce cases, proving the existence of hidden assets can affect the division of property and alimony decisions.

Asset Investigation Services

Asset investigation services encompass a broader range of activities aimed at uncovering and evaluating the assets of an individual or entity. These services can be used in various scenarios, such as fraud investigations, background checks, corporate mergers and acquisitions, and more.

Scope of Services:

Due Diligence: Conducting thorough checks on the financial status and asset holdings of a company or individual before business transactions.

Fraud Investigations: Identifying and tracing assets involved in fraudulent activities to aid recovery efforts.

Legal Support: Assisting lawyers with evidence collection to support legal cases involving asset disputes, divorce, or probate.

Litigation Support: Providing detailed asset reports that can be used in court to support or refute claims.

Importance of Asset Investigation Services:

Risk Mitigation: By identifying undisclosed or hidden assets, individuals and businesses can make informed decisions, reducing the risk of financial loss.

Recovery of Debts: Asset investigations can help creditors locate and seize assets to recover debts.

Conflict Resolution: In legal disputes, having accurate information about assets can lead to fairer resolutions.

Conclusion Asset search companies, hidden asset searches, and asset investigation services play a vital role in ensuring financial transparency and integrity. These services help individuals, businesses, and legal professionals navigate complex financial landscapes, protect their interests, and achieve justice in various legal and financial contexts. As financial fraud and asset concealment techniques become more sophisticated, the demand for skilled asset search and investigation services continues to grow, making these services indispensable in today's world.

[assetsearches]

Exploring Asset Search and Investigation Services by AssertSearches.com

In a world where financial transparency is crucial, individuals and businesses often find themselves facing the daunting task of uncovering hidden assets. Whether it's for legal proceedings, due diligence, or personal reasons, the need to delve into the financial landscape of an entity or individual is increasingly common. This is where asset search and investigation services come into play, with companies like AssertSearches.com leading the charge in providing comprehensive solutions.

Exploring Asset Search and Investigation Services by AssertSearches.com

In a world where financial transparency is crucial, individuals and businesses often find themselves facing the daunting task of uncovering hidden assets. Whether it's for legal proceedings, due diligence, or personal reasons, the need to delve into the financial landscape of an entity or individual is increasingly common. This is where asset search and investigation services come into play, with companies like AssertSearches.com leading the charge in providing comprehensive solutions.

Understanding Asset Search and Investigation Services

Asset search and investigation services involve the thorough examination of an individual's or company's financial records, properties, investments, and other assets. These services aim to uncover any undisclosed or hidden assets that may be relevant to a particular inquiry or investigation.

Why Choose AssertSearches.com?

AssertSearches.com stands out as a premier provider of asset search and investigation services for several compelling reasons:

Expertise and Experience: With years of experience in the field, AssertSearches.com boasts a team of seasoned professionals well-versed in financial investigations, forensic accounting, and legal procedures. Their expertise ensures that clients receive accurate and reliable information to support their objectives.

Comprehensive Approach: AssertSearches.com adopts a comprehensive approach to asset searches, employing a variety of techniques and resources to uncover hidden assets. From analyzing financial statements and public records to conducting surveillance and forensic analysis, they leave no stone unturned in their quest for information.

Tailored Solutions: Recognizing that each case is unique, AssertSearches.com offers customized solutions tailored to meet the specific needs and objectives of their clients. Whether it's locating assets for litigation purposes, conducting pre-transaction due diligence, or assisting with matrimonial disputes, they adapt their strategies to deliver optimal results.

Confidentiality and Discretion: Confidentiality is paramount in asset searches, especially in sensitive legal matters or personal investigations. AssertSearches.com adheres to strict confidentiality protocols, ensuring that all client information remains secure and protected throughout the process.

Legal Compliance: Operating within the bounds of the law is non-negotiable for AssertSearches.com. They are well-versed in relevant laws and regulations governing asset searches, ensuring that their investigative techniques are ethical, legal, and admissible in court when necessary.

The Process

Engaging AssertSearches.com for an asset search and investigation typically follows a structured process:

Consultation: Clients begin by scheduling a consultation with AssertSearches.com to discuss their specific requirements and objectives.

Assessment: Based on the initial consultation, AssertSearches.com conducts a thorough assessment of the case, identifying key areas of focus and outlining a strategic plan for the investigation.

Investigation: Utilizing a combination of investigative techniques and resources, AssertSearches.com conducts a comprehensive investigation to uncover hidden assets. This may involve financial analysis, database searches, surveillance, and other investigative methods.

Reporting: Upon completion of the investigation, AssertSearches.com provides clients with a detailed report summarizing their findings. The report may include evidence of undisclosed assets, financial transactions, property ownership, and other relevant information.

Follow-up: AssertSearches.com remains available to assist clients with any follow-up inquiries, legal proceedings, or additional support as needed.

In an increasingly complex financial landscape, the need for reliable asset search and investigation services has never been greater. AssertSearches.com stands as a trusted partner for individuals, businesses, and legal professionals seeking to uncover hidden assets and gain valuable insights into financial matters. With their expertise, comprehensive approach, and commitment to confidentiality, AssertSearches.com delivers results that empower clients to make informed decisions and achieve their objectives with confidence.Asset search and investigation services involve the thorough examination of an individual's or company's financial records, properties, investments, and other assets. These services aim to uncover any undisclosed or hidden assets that may be relevant to a particular inquiry or investigation.

[assetsearchprocess]

Professional Asset Search Services

Explore the range of professional asset search services offered by experts. Our methods used to locate hidden assets, including legal tracing, financial analysis, and investigative techniques. Visit: https://privin.net/

[rigvedaadsagency]

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[mullenixinvestigationsllc]

Phone: (870) 932-2896

Address: 623 Melody Ln, Jonesboro, AR 72401

Email: mullenixinvestigations@gmail.com

Retired Police Chief operating a full investigation company since 1997. We reconstruct murder cases, reconstruct accidents, covert Surveillance, criminal Defense cases for investigate collection of evidence. We specialize in Drug Related Child Custody cases, and work in Asset searches from banks to safe deposit boxes, full stocks & bonds nationwide.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/arkinvestigations/

[kirantech]

Delete Unreferenced Assets AEM

Delete all the assets which don’t have references to improve AEM performance in turn Indexes and search/query performance.

Problem Statement: Delete all the assets which don’t have references to improve AEM performance in turn Indexes and search/query performance. Introduction: How do assets get published? The author uploads the images and publishes the assets Create a launcher and workflow which processes assets metadata and publishes the pages Whenever we publish any pages and if the page has references to…

[hotelivate]

5 Hospitality Consulting Services Offers by Hotelivate

Hotelivate is the leading consultant for the hotel industry in India, offering specific, targeted, and curated hotel consulting solutions to the hotel business. Its hospitality consulting services offer a one-stop-shop firm that delivers tailored solutions to all hospitality projects.

[hadone]

COMEMİXGO - MEGA+ (4)

Welcome to Comemixgo, the ultimate solution for businesses looking to enhance their online presence and connect with a broader audience. In today’s competitive digital landscape, having a reliable platform is essential to stand out and grow your brand. Comemixgo offers an innovative way to expand your reach with its extensive resources, including a comprehensive free company directory and an unlimited company directory option, tailored to meet your unique needs. 

Free Company Directory

A free company directory serves as an invaluable resource for individuals and businesses looking for information about various companies without any associated costs. Such directories provide comprehensive listings that include essential details like company names, addresses, phone numbers, and industry classifications. When it comes to navigating vast amounts of company information, a free directory offers users an accessible way to locate the businesses they need swiftly.

Among the numerous platforms available, Comemixgo stands out by offering not only a free company directory but also an unlimited directory option. This flexibility allows users to browse through countless listings for various needs. A free company directory can be particularly beneficial for small businesses and startups, helping them to establish connections and discover potential partners or clients. Additionally, it empowers individuals looking to research companies for employment opportunities, investment prospects, or service providers.

Utilizing a free company directory is straightforward; users can often search by keywords, industries, or geographical locations. This functionality streamlines the process, making it easy to find just the right business. Furthermore, having access to an extensive company directory without the constraints of fees or subscription plans can greatly enhance networking opportunities and resource accessibility for everyone.

Unlimited Company Directory

The Unlimited Company Directory offered by Comemixgo is a comprehensive resource designed to empower businesses by providing unrestricted access to a diverse array of company listings. Unlike standard directories, this feature ensures that users can explore an extensive range of businesses without limitations.

With the Unlimited company directory, users can:

Access a broad spectrum of industries, making it easier to find competitors, suppliers, or potential partners.

Utilize advanced search functionalities that allow for filtering based on specific criteria such as location, company size, and industry.

Gain insights into various companies, including contact information, business descriptions, and service offerings.

Bookmark favorite listings for future reference, enabling quick access to key businesses that align with their goals.

This feature not only enhances user experience but also simplifies the process of networking and finding necessary contacts in the business landscape. By utilizing the Unlimited Company Directory, businesses can make informed decisions and foster valuable connections.

Overall, this tool serves as an invaluable asset for anyone looking to thrive in today's competitive market.

Comemixgo

Comemixgo stands out as an essential platform in today’s dynamic business environment, providing both a free company directory and an unlimited company directory. This dual offering ensures that businesses of all sizes can benefit from enhanced visibility and accessibility. Ideal for startups and established enterprises alike, Comemixgo simplifies the process of discovering and connecting with a diverse range of companies.

One of the key features of Comemixgo is its user-friendly interface, allowing users to swiftly navigate through the extensive listings. By leveraging advanced search functionalities, you can easily filter results based on various parameters, ensuring that you find the most relevant companies for your needs. Whether you are looking for potential partners, suppliers, or competitors, Comemixgo makes it easy to access a wealth of information at your fingertips.

Additionally, the platform promotes networking opportunities, encouraging collaborations and partnerships that can lead to mutual growth and success. With the option for businesses to list themselves, Comemixgo contributes to a thriving ecosystem where visibility translates to more opportunities.

This robust directory is not just about listings; it also emphasizes quality. By vetting and verifying company information, Comemixgo ensures that users can trust the data they access. This commitment to quality makes it a go-to resource for anyone seeking reliable company information in the ever-expanding marketplace.

For those looking to maximize their outreach or explore new avenues for growth, utilizing Comemixgo's resources can prove invaluable. With a focus on providing both a free company directory and an unlimited company directory, businesses can leverage the platform to enhance their visibility and tap into new markets!

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Finally

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Spy!Reader

Plot: Bucky and you have a hard time staying away from each other. And though you try to push him away, every time he finds you again, the universe finds a new way to pull you apart.

Warnings: 18+. Smut, fluff and angst.

Words: 9,1OO

A/N: Recently I’ve been trying to understand what it is people want to read of my works and I have no idea, so here is my brain in scrambled pieces. I'm so sorry it’s so long, I swear it's worth it!

Romania.

It isn’t often you agree to such an extensive trip to meet up with one of your clients, but apparently this particular one can’t be seen in the more supervised countries. Besides, you’ve never been to Bucharest before, so you’re quite enjoying your drink at the small picturesque café.

You’ve done your research and know damn well who you’re meeting up with. A small part of you is screaming at you not to agree to do business with him or back out now, but your curiosity overrules any common sense. Last you heard, Hydra had lost their favourite asset and you can confidently say you were relieved to hear it. It had been a few too many times that specific organisation had made your job more difficult than it had to be.

A many number of things could have happened to the Winter Soldier. He could’ve been killed, corrupted by another organisation, fled to live as a hermit– You really want to know. It’s the spy in you that enjoys knowing the ins and outs of the criminal world. He’d tried not to mention who he is, but you had a few offers on the table, he needed some leverage to get you to agree to meet him. Safe to say, you were surprised he’d told you he was the Winter Soldier. Big chance you will now be the only person to know about the asset’s current whereabouts. That is, if you live to tell it of course…

Every hair in your neck stands up straight, despite the comfortable weather and the easy going crowd roaming the street. The sudden change in atmosphere has your spy senses stand on alert. Your spine stiffens and you casually look around, slightly discouraged at the way your body has never responded to anything in this particular manner.

You cross your legs and turn to look behind you, scanning every face in the crowd. When you turn back, the seat next to yours is taken, only a rickety metal table separating you from the large man sat in the other chair. Your breath halts in your throat and you look him up and down, instantly recognising the buff man as the Winter Soldier. How? You’re not sure, you’d never really seen a picture.

You check his hands. Gloves. With this weather? To cover up. You check his build and take a particularly long time to do so, because God, this man is broad. He’s all sturdy flesh and muscle, firm and casual. His thighs look like tree trunks and you know the man is fast, despite his build. You force the deliberate sweep of your eyes over his body to appear more nonchalant and confident than you feel.

Then your eyes reach his face and the breath gets knocked out of you. There is nothing in that face that hints towards a stone cold killer. Dark blue, deep set eyes, freckles pattered over his nose and cheeks, lips bitten raw from contemplation and an expression on his face that almost looks like… Nerves?

“Hello,” you start carefully, unable to keep your surprise from your tone, but sounding relatively cool to your own relief.

“Hi,” he says and the tone of his voice is deep, but rough, like he hasn’t spoken in ages. You think that maybe he hasn’t.

“Should I refer to you as the Winter Soldier?” you ask, composing your cool nature entirely now. “Or would you say that is a bit on the nose?”

He huffs a laugh and you smile, feeling the overwhelming urge to make him do that again. “James will do, thanks.”

“Alright James,” you say, taking your time to let your mouth get acquainted with his name, “what is it you need my services for?”

“I hear you’re a spy,” he starts and searches your face. “A good one– the best one.”

“Well now, I’d hate to disappoint,” you purr. “What do you need?”

“It’s not so much a document or one piece of information,” he mumbles and his face hardens as he collects himself. You sit upright and frown as you study him. “I need you as a partner for an assignment.”

You instantly shake your head, “Absolutely not. I’m not working for Hydra, that organisation is–”

“Not Hydra,” he quickly cuts in. “Just me. It’s a personal assignment.”

You wait for him to continue, not appreciating his vague communication if he wants to become partners on whatever this is.

He sighs, “I– I have a lot of… gaps. Things I don’t remember, things I can’t quite place. Years of information. The things I did for Hydra– I wasn’t there for most of it. Neither were a lot of people. So I need someone with access to some dark shit to help me figure it out.”

Chewing your lip, you process the information he gives you and empathy clenches your heart together. James gives you the time you need to put the pieces together. You’d heard of Hydra’s experiments with brainwashing and had already sort of assumed some of their soldiers had only worked for them because of that reason, had stayed far away from the organisation’s shit to steer clear from that danger.

But it’s so different to see it in real life, or what is left of it, you suppose. Many things aren’t quite clear to you just yet. However, you slowly start nodding your head. Your brain starts running a million miles an hour, all the gears turning to form a plan, the way you always do before you agree to a job.

“Can you pay me for the service?” you ask, already wondering to yourself if you’d help the clearly hopeless and damaged man for free, and to be honest, just for kicks. The things you’d dig up from everything he’ll give you– Selfishly, you’d kill for it. Anyone would kill for it.

He gives you a tight-lipped, apologetic smile, “Not that much. But I can save up more.”

You think. Your gut tells you he won’t kill you after he gets what he wants, even though he could. And though you will always keep a close eye on him and everything he’s capable of, your gut feeling has never disappointed you.

So you sigh and shake your head. “That’s okay. I’ll do all of it for free, and you can pay me what little you have to insure that I stay quiet. Sound fair?”

His eyes narrow with a twinkle that you hadn’t expected from a man like him and he says, “Deal.”

“Alright,” you say and finish your coffee before clearing your throat. “First order of business: tell me your full name.”

He shakes his head with a faint smile, “James Buchanan Barnes.”

Oh shit.

You do know him.

Germany.

Relief seeps into your bones as you cross the threshold of your building and you slip into your routine of coming home. Tired feet drag you through your building and to your apartment, and muscle memory unlocks your door. After the week you’ve had, you are ready to turn off your brain and settle down.

You enjoy being this tired though, revel in it. Exhausting yourself with a normal person job and the way it puts your usually restless body to sleep at night is exactly what you wanted for your life.

One step into your own hallway, however, makes your daydream of a quiet night in crumble to your feet. Something is off. You can blame your trained senses for being so instantly on edge, but the apartment you just stepped into isn’t a place that has been vacated for the past nine hours. This apartment isn’t empty.

An even older routine settles into your bones this time and you creep into your home on light feet. The air is warm and the space is completely quiet. You’ve been alive long enough, seen enough, to know quiet is never good.

You don’t turn on any lights and let your eyes adjust to the dark. Ears perked and muscles at the ready to spring into action, you slowly make your way further into your home. And when you slip around the corner and look into your darkened living room, you let out a frustrated sigh at the dark figure lounging on your couch.

“How did you find me here,” you grumble and it is hardly a question.

You can feel him sit up and tune in to your presence. You couldn’t explain it if your life depended on it, but you instantly knew who it was. The dark figure in the dark apartment, waiting patiently for someone to catch him. After all, he will deny it until his dying day, but he does have an awful lot of dramatic flair for someone so stoic.

“Better question is: why are you here?” he counters and you drop your bag onto one of your dining chairs, shooting him an unimpressed glare. “Trying to stay off the radar, are you?”

“And failing, clearly,” you say before he can say it for you. “How did you find me here, James?”

Your eyes are finally fully adjusted and you see the smirk forming on his face. You haven’t seen that smirk in five years. “I have my ways,” he says and pushes off the couch, adjusting his leather jacket. “Now, what are you doing in this abandoned town?”

“It’s not abandoned,” you counter and slip off your coat, deciding to just go about your old routine and ignore his presence as much as you can. Maybe then he’ll go away.

“It’s a shit town and you know it.” He cocks his head at you, eyes tracking all of your movements.

You notice his puzzled look. He’s genuinely wondering what is left of his old ally and you can’t quite blame him. Perhaps he can easily see your lame attempt at finding a normal life for yourself. He has probably tried a thousand times himself to escape the roaring life of saving the world, has probably failed every time, too. But you’re determined to make it work – make yourself normal and live a full life.

And that is all you were to him anyway, just an ally. The entire time, you’d felt that he paid a little too much attention to you, but you supplied critical information and occasionally wiped someone off the map. A spy. Nothing more, nothing less. However, for the infamous Winter Soldier to need your alliance again, you cannot help but feel wary.

After the first time he approached you, you’d spent months together. It was an effort not to grow too close – too much effort. Because you had. It was impossible not to, helping someone literally piece their life together through intimate and awful memories. Digging through protective walls and coping mechanisms to help him rebuild some of his life again. With a lot of reluctance from both of you.

Yes, you’d grown close then. Grown close enough that you fell asleep slumped over the kitchen counter in his awful Romanian apartment, your face sticking to the countless research papers. You’d woken up hours later on his poorly constructed bed on the floor with a blanket thrown over your frame. Close enough that you’d eventually asked him to assist you on your missions. Ones that required a different skillset than your own. Close enough that you cooked for each other, sometimes shared clothes, roasted one another for the mental health issues that lead you both to your current occupations.

After a while, you couldn’t describe your relation to Barnes in any other way than a partnership. Partners. Who had kissed once. Maybe twice. After some bad Vodka.

You sigh and turn to him, “Why are you here, James?”

“I need to lay low for a while.” A wider smirk, his eyes narrowing at you. “I remembered I know someone who is very good at that.”

“Careful,” you warn and roll your eyes. “You just gave me a compliment.”

His smirk turns to a smile and he shrugs off his own jacket, instantly making himself at home in your apartment. A strange thing when it comes to Bucky, since you don’t recall that man feeling at home anywhere. Then, he did always have this incessant cocky streak around you and he is awfully good at getting on your nerves, so he probably sees the perfect opportunity to be a pain in the ass.

“If you so much as sneeze on anything, I swear–”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts in, his tone unimpressed. “You’ll skin me alive. You’re always so weird about your stuff.”

You give him a tiny proud smile and decide to make yourself something quick to eat, only to feel him peer at you from the edge of your kitchen. He’s met with a confused frown before you raise your brows at him to make him spit it out.

“What’s the catch?” he asks warily.

You smile and look down at the sandwich you’re making. “Nothing. Just fix your shit and get out of my hair as quickly as possible.”

He winces slightly and you turn to him fully now, slowly taking a bite.

“What.”

Bucky sucks in a short breath and gives you an apologetic look before he speaks, “It might be a while…”

Your brows drop, “What did you do?”

“Nothing, I–”

“Bucky.” You cut him another look, one shaped by many, many instances of working together. “What. Did. You. Do.”

“It’s not important. I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

You open your mouth to continue arguing with him, but decide against it, already done with his shit. Yes, he is doing better and supposedly now qualifies as a good person. But you know the man before you and the soldier cannot stop himself from lying about pretty much everything. He has damaged tendencies. Give him an inch and he will take a mile, show him a weakness and he will exploit it. You genuinely think he doesn’t know how to be different, how to not abuse those effortless skills he trained all those years working for Hydra and surviving it.

“It’s my weekend off,” you tell him instead. “If you get between me and my plans, I will change the locks.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “You think I can’t get through a simple lock?”

Another glare is his answer and he raises his hands in surrender. You walk around him and toe off your own shoes, grabbing everything to take a shower as you shove the rest of your sandwich in your mouth. Bucky slowly strolls through your place and examines everything that belongs to you.

“Can you not pretend like you haven’t completely scanned the place already before I got home?” you ask him as you make way for the bathroom.

“It can’t hurt to have a second look,” he mumbles, but you have already closed the door and move take the shower you’ve been looking forward to the entire day.

You should probably work harder to get him out, should probably make an escape plan and move somewhere else. But you know arguing with him is futile and the best approach with him is to patiently wait for him to move on. Bucky doesn’t get attached and doesn’t nest, so he’ll be gone soon enough.

As the scalding water trickles down your scalp and spine, you realise how much more alert you should have been when you noticed someone was in your home. Especially with all of those loose ends and enemies you have scattered across this planet (and others). Yet, somehow you think your body knew it was Bucky waiting for you. After all, it isn’t the first time he’s pulled this shit, waiting up for you. Usually because you kept something from him, he found out and would start ambushing you to fess up.

And even though technically, you haven’t exactly kept anything from him this time, you can’t ignore the dreadful feeling that explaining your current situation will be the hardest thing to ever speak up about. How pathetic, to try and live a normal life when you’re ‘extraordinary’. Ugh, you hate that word. You’re trained well and you refuse to be anything but good at what you put your mind at.

Now, Bucky. He is extraordinary. He has potential to make a difference. You have always felt that. Hated working with him because of that. Not because of him – he never made you feel less than him at all. But–

The water turns cold and you groan audibly, time having slipped away from you as you got lost in thought. Stepping out and drying yourself off, you get ready to walk out of the bathroom. You’re met with Bucky sitting on your couch, reading one of your books.

“Let me guess, warm water’s gone?” he asks, not looking up from the book.

You walk to your bedroom and shrug, “Cold showers are good for you, I heard.”

“I suppose I’ll take the couch then?” he asks, finally looking up from the book.

You turn back and peek through your doorway at him. “You can take the floor if that’s more comfortable for you.”

“We’ve shared a bed before.”

“Not by choice.”

He smirks, “You liked it.”

“You snore.”

“Sleep tight, sweetheart.” He grins at you.

You make to get to bed when you pause and turn back to him once more with a slight frown. “Why are you so cheerful? Aren’t there people after you?”

“Well,” he says, casual as always, “these may very well be my last days, so I might as well be in a good mood.”

You find yourself swallowing hard and desperately search his face for any intel on how true his statement is, without giving away that you might just care a little bit about his well-being. But his grin stays firm in place and he raises his brows in wait for you to call it a night.

Without another word, you close the door between you and crawl into your comfortable bed. And you wonder why it is that you can’t quite get comfortable this time.

…

A powerful jolt rips through your body as you lift out of layers of sleep. You’re too tired for whatever made you wake up so suddenly. It’s too goddamn late for this shit.

But as you gain more and more of your consciousness, your senses start perking up and you realise you might very well be in danger. The gentle and calm voice calling your name with a warm stroke of a hand down your arm, confirms that for you. That specific type of calm in Bucky’s voice sends your body into overdrive.

“We’ve got to go, sweetheart,” he murmurs and is already throwing clothes onto your bed. “Now.”

You sit up and rub your eyes and it dawns on you after a week of Bucky staying at your place. This man wasn’t going to leave you until he got chased out of your apartment. And that day has come.

“Bucky,” you start with a hoarse voice as you climb out of your warm bed and quickly throw on the clothes he picked for you, “who the fuck is after you?”

He takes his time to answer, pulling two fully packed backpacks from the corner of your room that you surprisingly didn’t know he hid there. Oh, this man is going to get an ear full about this bullshit.

“Some weird underground cartel that deals in tech or something,” he grumbles and throws you a pack. You are nearly too slow to catch it before you sling it onto your back. You gape at him after his answer and his face stays solemn as he pushes a hand gun into your hands. “Let’s go.”

“Bucky.”

He stops and turns to you fully. “It’s bad, okay? I’ll tell you later.”

“No. Tell me now.”

He groans out your name, peeking outside while he impatiently chews on his lip. “Don’t do this right now. You can be pissed at me later!”

“I will be pissed at you now,” you seethe, “and later. How about that?!”

He sighs and then grabs your arm, giving you a boyish grin before shooting two bullets through your window, breaking the glass, slinging an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him and jumping out of the fucking window with you clinging to him. It’s only when you fly about five stories down, that you realise the two of you are attached to a bungee rope that eases your descent. His feet touch the ground first, yours following. He cuts the rope and grabs your hand before he starts running towards the parking lot beneath your building.

“Bucky, you piece of shit!” you yell at him as you run, hearing the faint sound of gun fire behind you over the sound of your ragged breathing.

“I’ll make it up to you!” he simply yells back.

You can hear the smile in his voice. And the worst thing? You feel yourself smiling as well when you realise how easily you’ve slipped back into being his partner in crime.

…

Bucky checks one more time, his gleaming metal hand pulling the sheer curtain aside to peer out onto the dark streets. You hear some shouting coming from outside and still feel your heart pounding, even when you know you have definitely outrun those people coming after you. You hate how out of practice you are. And how much you missed the adrenaline of being on the run with Bucky.

He turns back to you and finds you with your arms crossed, glaring at him. Oh, you know the perfect way to let out this adrenaline. There might be actual steam coming out of your ears.

Bucky cringes and slowly strolls over, already reaching out his hands to use his irresistible charm on you. Like the time he dropped the cake you made one afternoon and tried to make it up to you. Or that time he left some very important documents in one of the buildings he set on fire. Or the time he accidentally deleted your recordings off the TV when you had been looking forward to watching the next episode for two weeks.

However, your burning eyes stop him dead in his tracks and he opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it and closes his mouth again. A second later, he tries again, “Okay. Give it to me.”

You give him a satisfied, albeit sadistic smile, at his willingness to take your scolding and then, you start yelling. You have no idea what words specifically are rolling off your tongue, but your speech starts somewhere during that first meeting in Bucharest, drifts to your entire time together as partners, how you drifted apart, only for him to show up whenever he pleased, and you continue to how he stood at your door a little over a week ago, to him terrorising your happy little life in Germany… To now.

Your voice rises with every instance you tell him about, fire burning in your core and hands flailing to give your story that much more power (even though you couldn’t stop your conviction if you tried). As the grin on his face grows through your rambling, a metal hand pressing to his lips to stop it from showing too much, you burn even brighter with fury.

Then you stop, breathing heavily. You give him a withering look to get him to start speaking up, because let’s be honest, all the two of you really needed was only just a look.

His shoulders slowly stop shaking and he drops his hand, eyes sparkling like a glass of Prosecco in the light. Devious asshole. “I just– I haven’t seen you this alive in a while. It looks fantastic on you.”

You gape at him like a fish and you wonder if the warmth in your face still belongs to your anger. Though you fear it belongs to quite the opposite. Either way, this man certainly knows how to make you passionate. And you realise he knows what you have been trying to do with your fake little life here in Germany.

“I don’t think you–”

“I’m sorry,” he says and steps forward, his large hands cupping your face as he looks down at you with earnest eyes. “I’m sorry for making your life so goddamn miserable. So tell me how to make it up to you.”

And for all the world, you can tell he means it. Can tell that he will do anything to make it up to you. You can almost feel the squeeze of pain in your own heart when you see the disappointment in his eyes after he realises you didn’t enjoy this as much as he had.

But the worst part is, is that you did. You’ve never felt more alive than with him. Never felt more like you. You wouldn’t necessarily call him an adventurer, maybe he is just a magnet for trouble. But whenever you’re with Bucky, you’ll drop anything for him and you’ll burn like an inferno doing so. He makes you into the best version of yourself and he makes you love the parts about yourself that you have been conditioned to feel guilty about.

You sigh, “I don’t know. Never mind.”

He doesn’t let go though and searches your eyes, his own narrowing in suspicion. “I’m going to make it up to you, you know.”

You cross your arms and give him an unimpressed look. “Yeah? How?”

He smirks and your knees weaken. “I could kiss it better.”

“Shameless flirt,” you huff and roll your eyes as an excuse to break his intense stare on you.

“You’re just too proud to admit that my kisses would make you forgive me,” he prods and your eyes snap back to his. He’s right, that is pride surging in your chest to lunge at him.

“You’ve grown too cocky for your own good,” you sneer at him.

“You like it.”

“I assure you, I don’t.”

“Liar.”

“Manipulator.”

He feigns hurt, “Ouch.”

You huff a laugh with a roll of your eyes, “Such a fragile ego.”

He smirks again and you swallow as you fight to look at his lips. So close to your own. “Now you have to kiss me for forgiveness.”

You can’t help but truly laugh this time, your face still safely tucked in his palms and his brows raise with intrigue at the sound of your laughter.

You tell him, “You are so full of shit.”

His smile fades, his eyes large with earnest and all of a sudden, it’s the man standing before you that sat next to you in that Romanian café. Stripped down, bare, rough, and perhaps a bit vulnerable.

“Let me kiss you,” he says in merely a whisper now.

You fight for your life not to falter to that genuine request and the way he said it. “It won’t make me forgive you,” you say softly, but barely hear your own voice over the increased pounding of your heart in your throat.

“I don’t care,” he murmurs. “Just want to kiss you.”

He doesn’t wait for your permission either, because quite frankly, you most likely gave him a look of permission instantly at that request. His soft lips slot over yours and you could’ve never predicted the depraved moan that resounded in the back of your throat as your mouths meet. Your hands instantly slip into his hair as Bucky’s hands slide around your waist to pull you closer, fingers digging into your flesh possessively.

The kiss deepens when his tongue meets yours and he lets out a groan of his own, a sound so addicting that you instinctively tug on his hair to hear it again. The laugh against your lips is rough as he hauls you closer and changes the kiss. Something more desperate and impatient. Something hot and sweaty and slightly messy. You might be walking as Bucky finds something to press you up against or lay you down on, and you almost squawk in surprise as you fall back onto the double, motel bed.

Though before you can say anything else, Bucky is on you again, his mouth demanding and greedy against yours. His hands feel and grab and squeeze every inch of you and you grind your hips upward for his weight. You want his heaviness between your hips and on your stomach and against your chest.

Growing impatient, convinced that Bucky’s brain might no longer be working, you lock your ankles around his hips and pull him down between your legs, sighing a groan of relief at the feeling of him tucked against you so warmly.

“God dammit,” he grunts and gives one luxurious roll of his hips against yours, making you whine as your pulse hammers down in your core.

His mouth grazes against your neck now and you can hardly breathe, panting as if you’ve run a marathon. The pressure between your hips leaves as he moves further down and you buck your hips at the ache he leaves.

“Bucky,” you whimper and look down, heart slamming in your throat at the sight of him. He messily yet gently makes his way down your body. Hands roughly pushing up your shirt as his lips find the plane of your stomach, kissing from your bra, down to your hips that you can’t seem to keep still.

Your body feels so heavy, yet so light without him on top of you and you can’t remember any moment before this kiss. Before five minutes ago. Everything is solidified. Your entire history with him. And Bucky presses a kiss just below your navel that confirms that feeling, his hands peeling off your jeans. That is until he speaks.

“Listen to me,” he orders and you freeze at the sound of him. He’s only sounded like that during missions where either of you might die. So serious and detrimental. “Don’t ever try to build a life without me again.”

“Bucky–”

“No,” he snaps and you close your mouth. “Don’t ever pretend like we don’t exist. Like you and I aren’t supposed to do this shit together, like you are better off without me, like I am better off without you. That’s bullshit.” You give him a questioning look. Where is this coming from? “I’m going to kiss you and you are going to forgive me. And then I am going to kiss you some more.”

He waits then. For you to answer, to process what it is he is saying exactly. It’s a lot of words with a lot of meaning, yet you’re not sure if this is the declaration you didn’t know you were waiting for.

So you speak from your gut and let out a breath, “Finally.”

Bucky smiles at that and surges upward, clearly happy with that intuitive answer. His lips claim yours once again and then you feel his fingers inching up your thigh.

You whine softly against his lips and you feel him smile as his fingers reach your drenched core. Two fingers slip through your folds to explore your wetness and Bucky drops his head into the crook of you neck.

“Finally indeed,” he breathes and slips his middle finger into you, making you whimper and buck your hips.

The stretch against your swollen walls sends an ache through your abdomen that cries out for more. You cannot explain the desperation to have him, to have every empty pit of you filled with his essence. His finger curls up and you throw your head back, making Bucky raise his own head to look at you.

“There?”

You nod frantically and Bucky pushes in another finger, making you tense up around him. He curls that one too and you don’t recognise the sound spilling from your lips. You’re already so fucking full.

As Bucky teasingly darts his thumb over your swollen clit, he traces his tongue over your mouth and you gasp for air at the sensation.

“Bucky, fuck!” you cry and he pushes his mouth to yours in a claiming kiss, his fingers moving faster as his thumb rotates over your clit. You can barely kiss him back, overtaken by pleasure as he pumps his fingers over and over until you can hear your wetness surround his sinful digits.

It is by far the hottest thing you have ever experienced. So much time has passed and now this beast of a man who tries everything to make you blush with his flirty persona, is bent over you with his fingers peeling your pleasure to the surface like his own fucking release depends on it.

His chest is heaving from watching you, brows pulled together, eyes dark as they rake over you hungrily, muscles flexing as his hand disappears between your legs.

His leg slips beneath your knee and pulls your leg up to finger you in a different angle and your nails bury themselves in the muscles of Bucky’s neck, abdomen flexing at the wave of pleasure that courses through you. “More. Oh my God, more!”

“I know, I can feel it,” he grunts and slows his fingers. “But I’ve waited ages for this. I refuse to let it be over so soon.”

Your brain is nothing but cinders and you shake your head violently, “No! No, please. You can have everything, just let me come. Please.”

Bucky pecks your lips. Once. Twice.

“You want to come all over my hand, pretty girl?” he murmurs in your ear and you can only gasp at the press of his fingers against your spot. “Can I lick you up after?”

You clench around him like a vice, his low voice making you drip onto his palm, his words incinerating what is left of your pride. You can only nod, so you do. And his hand starts moving again. Faster, deeper, more thorough. You keep nodding, your moans raising, your pleasure retreating like a snake ready to strike. Oh God, oh God, oh God–

“Come.”

Your hips fly to the ceiling when you come, thighs trembling and closing around his hand. Bucky keeps moving and thrusting and curling until he has wrung all of your pleasure from your body and you feel like you’re made of jelly. Your voice is hoarse from yelling your release and the sheets below are drenched with your desire.

Soft kisses are pressed to your face and that is how you return from whatever plane of existence you went to. His gentle laugh makes you shiver and you open your eyes to find him licking his fingers like there is caramel dripping from them. You swallow hard and zero in on that action, making his eyes sparkle.

But something changes when you reach up to stroke his hair and his eyes flutter. Your eyes rove over his face in admiration and your entire soul sighs at the sight of him. Bucky looks down at you curiously and cocks his head.

“What is it?” he asks and you chew your lip, trying to find the words.

“You and me, huh?” you murmur with something like wonder in your voice. Bucky can only nod. You continue, “Who would’ve thought…”

Bucky leans down and kisses you. Soft, slow, deep. It makes your body sing. And he shuffles back to make himself at home between your legs. Though as he does that, he remains his focus on kissing you. Deeper, more, desperate. Depraved. He moans and breathes and you swear you hear him whimper, his hips grinding over your oversensitive cunt as he gets lost in kissing you.

Raking your nails over his scalp, you once again wrap your legs around his hips and pull him down. And if Bucky hadn’t snapped his leash just yet, this does it. He turns wild and passionate and heavy. One hand of his and one hand of your own both reach down, messily working together to get rid of his jeans. He shimmies out of them, not bothering to get rid of them entirely, but bothering to at least take off his shirt.

Your fingers drag down his pecs and abdomen, trying to memorise every curve and edge with what little brain capacity you have left. You feel like no more than a flame, no more than passion and want and need. And when Bucky slides his bare cock through your folds to slicken himself, you shudder so violently, your breath shudders with it.

“Woman, you are going to kill me,” he breathes and nips at your lips.

You almost growl with impatience, “Then fuck me and die already.”

He laughs, bold and happy, before thrusting into you in a long stroke. Home. Oh fuck, he’s home. Both of you freeze, taking in the moment of being fused together before he slowly pulls out and out and out. And sliding back in with an agonizing thrust.

Something in you clicks. Something so vital, so necessary. And Bucky feels it too.

“Yes,” he groans and presses another kiss to your lips, like he can’t get enough. “This is it.”

You nod and close your eyes in pleasure. In relief. You shudder with emotion and clamp onto him. Bucky keeps pressing kisses to your skin. Your neck, your lips, your cheek, temple, forehead.

“This is it,” you choke out and Bucky smiles. “You’re it.”

Bucky breathes a sigh, as if he’s been waiting ages for you to admit it. “Finally.”

Infinity War.

Biting your lip and bouncing your leg, you try to let the rumble of the swift jet calm your nerves. Your eyes search the cabin and go over the confusing screens for the thousandth time.

“Nervous?” Natasha’s sensual voice sounds next to you and you force a smile.

“Why would I be nervous?” you ask and smirk at her. “We’re only stepping into a war with the probability of us winning being like…” Zero? Less than zero? You sigh, “I don’t want to think about that.”

She bites back her own smirk and raises her eyebrows. “Wasn’t talking about the war. Are you nervous about seeing him?”

Bucky.

You glare at her after quickly glancing around to see if anyone heard her, making Natasha try even harder to hold back a smile.

Yes, you were nervous to see him. So much had happened. So many aspects of your spy work had suddenly intermingled and now you are fighting along with the Avengers. Even after you were sure they had torn themselves apart over Bucky. Being caught in the middle of that had put you and Bucky’s relationship –if you could even call it that– so far to the back of both your minds, you barely had time to mention it to anyone until Steve shipped him off to Wakanda to get some real help.

You and Bucky were over before it even started and you think that maybe it’s for the better. Neither you nor Bucky are any good at that relationship shit anyway. It showed over and over.

Luckily enough, you’d found plenty of distraction being on the run with Sam, Natasha and Steve. No Bucky in sight, but knowing he was safe and taken care of. Private mission after mission with other people you cared about, people who didn’t know about you and Bucky, one of them eager to forget about Bucky himself.

You barely gave it any thought.

Except you thought of Bucky every day.

And now you get to see him again. However, if any time would make you reconsider any commitment at all, it would be now.

“No,” you answer and then turn serious. “I mean, I was. But now I’m just preparing myself for either grief, or death.”

“Are those our only options?” she asks with a displeased frown. “Why not prepare for victory or somethin’?”

Giving her a long and hard stare, you sigh deeply. “Yeah. You’re right. If I die, I might as well die hopeful.”

“That’s my girl,” she grins and you bump her shoulder with yours, finding your own smile breaking through.

That’s when Steve gives Sam the coordinates to fly through a barrier and show you the hidden – and beautiful – kingdom of Wakanda. So you ignore every jittery feeling you have in your stomach at possibly seeing Barnes again, and you channel it all into hope.

…

Natasha strokes her hand over your shoulder as you walk up to king T’Challa, who’s flanked by his closest guard and a palace that screams to get you on your knees to worship. You barely hear the conversation the king has with Steve, partly because you’re still in awe of the beautiful place around you.

Now this, this is a refuge.

“How are we lookin’?” Natasha asks from next to you and that’s when you start to pay attention. You’d need a hell of a lot of man-power to win this.

“You will have my Kings Guard,” T’Challa starts, “the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and…”

“A semi-stable hundred-year-old man,” finishes a voice that makes your entire system dysregulate. Oh God, it’s been so long since you’ve heard the warm timber of that voice.

You notice your hands have started shaking and clutch them behind your back, squeezing courage out of them to face your past, as Bucky Barnes walks up to hug Captain America.

“How’ve you been, Buck?” Steve asks and Bucky answers with a heart-stopping smile.

“Uh, not bad,” he answers, “for the end of the world.”

They share another warm look before Steve turns to everyone behind him and then to the king, “Should we prepare?”

A few minutes later, you’re following the king inside with all of his closest guards and your own team, which now includes Bucky. Focusing your eyes on everything around you, you barely notice the large hand slipping around your elbow and pulling you into another hallway.

You know better than to scream for help and you use the momentum to swing the person around and pin them to the nearest wall with a knife to their throat. But the air rushes from you when you stand face to face with Bucky.

“There she is,” he grins and slowly raises his hands in surrender.

You back away slowly and look at him like a gaping fish, your insides pounding and swirling and thrashing as your body heats with adrenaline. It’s him, it’s him, it’s him.

“New arm?” you ask him, your voice coming out surprisingly steady, and he glances at the appendage, flexing his hand between your faces.

“Yeah, you like it?” he asks and he almost sounds like a young boy, genuinely interested in what you think of it, of him.

And you calm. Everything inside of you settles and the heat turns to warmth. Your insides seem to melt with relief and you throw your arms around his neck, almost tipping over until Bucky’s arms automatically slide around your waist to pull your pliant body tightly against his. He’s so big and strong and warm.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he laughs softly and one hand starts to stroke your hair gently as you huff out a sob into his neck. “Oh, sweet girl. You’ve never been sad to see me before.”

You finally pull back and cup his face as he lets you survey him closely, him grinning widely at the worry in your every feature. You breathe, “You’re good. You’re safe.”

He nods and takes your hands, pressing a kiss to your palm. “So are you,” he whispers and you nod.

“Not for long,” you add, deflated.

He gives you a sad smile. “Now, who would we be if we didn’t go down fighting, hm?”

You smile slightly at that. “Back on the same team.”

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and the planet stops turning.

“Finally.”

The Blip.

Another knock sounds and you roll your eyes, throwing on a quick cardigan as you hop over to your door. Unusual, for your quiet, lonely evenings to get interrupted like this. You’re ready to cash in what you can only assume is some complaining neighbour or your awful land lord when you open the door and are met with a familiar face that makes your heart squeeze together.

“Steve,” you breathe.

“Hey.”

You step aside to let him in and take a deep breath.

“Want something to drink?” you ask as you close the door behind him and let him venture into your home. Or, whatever you have tried to turn into your home. It had never been more than the latest home trends and some empty picture frames.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I found you?” he asks and you get a feeling of déjà vu.

But you shake your head with a forced smile, “I left a trace for Natasha to track for emergencies. I know how you found me.” You give him a pointed look and Steve actually has the decency to look slightly apologetic.

That look tells you enough about how much of an emergency this is and you wonder what prompted Natasha to decipher your code and hand your location to the Captain. Maybe he was the one breaking and could use a familiar face. Maybe something turned him awfully worried about you. Maybe-

No.

“Aren’t you mad that Natasha told me?” he asks unsurely and you give him a tight-lipped smile, taking a seat in one of your dining table chairs and ushering for him to do so as well.

“Would you believe me if I said that it’s actually quite nice to see a familiar face after five pretty lonely years?” you refute and he gives you a warm smile.

“It’s good to see you, too, Kid.”

A comfortable silence settles between you two and you fidget with your hands, staring at them intently before raising your face back to Steve. “Why are you here, Cap?”

He lets out a long sigh. “Ever since the Blip,” he starts and you can feel him debating whether to continue, “I never– I didn’t get to tell you how sorry I am about Bucky.”

You freeze and slowly turn your gaze to him. “Okay. Now I am pissed at her.”

“Natasha didn’t tell me,” he quickly assures and you raise a brow at him. “He did.”

You fall quiet at that. “Bucky told you about…”

“What,” he laughs. “Didn’t think you two were serious enough for him to tell his best friend about it?”

You reply with a humourless laugh of your own. “He um– He wasn’t a very committing guy. And I don’t blame him. Why commit to something if you might lose everything all over again?”

The pity in Steve’s gaze feels burning to your skin. “Well, if you’re that scared of losing something, it might be worth committing to,” he says and you find yourself agreeing with the wise bastard.

“Well, I committed and look where I am now,” you huff. “Turns out, he was right all along.”

“Kid–”

“Why are you here, Cap?” you try again, all of a sudden too eager to get rid of him.

It takes a while for him to answer and dread settles low in your belly. When he starts talking, you’ve already started shaking your head. “We have found a way to bring them all back.”

You still. And you stay like that. Seconds. Minutes. Maybe another five years have passed.

“Did you hear what I said?” he tries.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. We figured out a way. Time travel.”

You bark a laugh and give him a pointed glare. However, your vision is already slightly impaired by the tears pooling at your waterline. “Don’t,” you stop him before he continues elaborating. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this in the past five years? That you, or Nat, or even Tony fucking Stark himself would stand at my door and tell me we figured it out? About a million times, Cap. And the more normal this delusional scenario became in my head, the more absurd it seemed to be. And now, you expect me to just believe that nearly five years on the dot, you have figured out a way to return everything to normal?!”

Steve can take it, the sudden outburst of your disbelief. He has definitely encountered a whole lot more scepticism in his life. But his heart breaks a little for you. Bucky had tried to be so casual when he finally told Steve about you, but Steve had caught the sparkle in those hundred-year-old eyes and he couldn’t describe the relief of Bucky having found someone, let alone you.

But now, to see you so far removed from Bucky – from hope. He hates it.

“I waited,” he almost whispers. “Until I was completely sure. We need you for this.”

You blink away your tears and one rolls down your cheek. Steve quickly reaches to catch it and cups your face. A touch normally so very unwelcome, but now you cannot help but bury your face in his palm.

“You’re sure?” you ask, voice breaking.

Steve pulls you in and up to his chest, engulfing you in a tight hug. “Time to bring our best friend back, Kid.”

Time Travel.

You cannot help but smile when you see the handsome brainiac hunched over a laptop near some high-tech stage that you can’t seem to look at too long without talking yourself out of this.

“Hey, Tony,” you say quietly as you walk up and his brown eyes light up when he hears your voice. Stepping away from the screen, he opens his arms wide and pulls you into a tight hug. Another comfortable embrace that you can only breathe in and cherish.

“My favourite spy,” he murmurs and pulls back.

“How are you doing?” you ask him.

He gives you a knowing look. “Oh, you know. Good. Until he showed up,” he sneers with a pointed look at Steve, who simply rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “he has a way of interrupting peace.”

Tony snorts. “Now that, is what I call a paradox.”

You laugh and pat his shoulder, “Pepper and Morgan?”

“They’re wonderful.” He grins, but you can see the fear shining in his eyes and you give his shoulder a firm squeeze.

“Thank you for doing this, Tony.”

He smirks in answer. “I swear, if you and Barnes don’t openly kiss after all I am about to sacrifice, I will find the stones and undo both of your existences.”

You shoot a thunderous glare to Steve, and to Natasha who is walking up behind the Captain. But Tony stops you before you can scold them on their horrible secret-keeping skills, “Pepper told me.”

You grit your teeth.

The Avengers are a bunch of gossips.

The Endgame.

You stumble backward, your sprained ankle and broken ribs somehow only a faint ache over the sight before you. You almost trip over debris, or a body, or just air and you keep blinking to see better or to make it all go away, you don’t know.

He did it. Tony did it. You’re sure you can still feel the snap of his fingers vibrate through your spine. And there he is. Slumped against more debris, half of his face cracked like burnt coal, his suit barely reflecting its original colours. The blue light at the centre of his chest is fading, shuttering and then… it goes dark. With Pepper’s hand over it.

Your own hand barely muffles the sob trying to break through and you stumble over and over again as you back away from that horrible, awful reality. He did it. But at what cost?

You turn around and start jogging. How? You’re not sure. Your body is in no state to hurry. But it’s incomplete. You were barely strong or extraordinary enough to be of any help during the fight, but you tried your best. Helping people in the field, some war medic patching up gushing wounds. You’d cashed some punches and kicks yourself. Dealt them, too.

It was all because you needed to be there. Because you needed to stay alive. Needed to stick around to see him again. And now… Now… You barely survived this, barely made it through. And Tony died. Tony Stark. The chance of him still being out there-

You start running faster. Hobbling and grunting from the pain.

“Bucky,” you voice is raw and frantic, it’s barely a sound as you cry out for him. “Bucky! Bucky!”

Head swinging from side to side, you hope the soldier reveals himself from behind one of the plumes of smoke. Further and further away, you flee from the horrifying scene of whatever is left after Thanos. You need to find him, but you can’t identify anything on this war ground.

If he’s dead. If Bucky is dead–

Your head whips around so fast, your neck might crack, when you’re sure you hear your name. Everything about you goes quiet and you hold your breath like it will make any difference. Slowly, you walk in the direction where you assume the sound came from, but you almost cringe at the idea that you might just be going insane. After all those explosions, your hearing can’t possibly be this sharp.

Though perhaps intuition is at play here, because you’ve always been able to feel him. Always knew it when it was him waiting up for you, or looking for you, or needing you.

“Bucky,” you croak again.

“Here…” It’s so quiet. But you hear it over everything else and follow the echo of the sound.

“Bucky,” you rasp out. “I’m coming!”

And there he is. On hands and knees, struggling to get up. You can only describe your approach as a dive, as you crash onto your wobbly knees and wrap your arms around him. His body instantly stops struggling and falls into your rib cage.

He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.

“Yeah,” he groans. “’M right here.”

You had no idea you were sobbing it to him, but you don’t care as your hands grapple for a better hold of him. He does the same until both of you are kneeling in front of each other, cupping each others’ faces to check for injuries.

“You look pretty all roughed up,” he mutters and you smile through your tears.

“You look awful,” you reply and he chuckles before pulling you into his chest. “But you’re home.”

He shudders and you might actually hear him let out a sob of his own as he tightens his grip on you.

“Finally.”

[bankaccountsearch]

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[assetsearches]

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The aftermath of a divorce often brings about complex financial challenges, and one significant concern is the potential existence of hidden assets. Spouses may attempt to conceal wealth during divorce proceedings, complicating the equitable distribution of assets. In this article, we will explore the strategies and techniques employed to uncover hidden assets after a divorce, helping individuals navigate the post-divorce maze with greater transparency.

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[tpquill]

America, what have you done!

I am tonight sitting here (Australia) speechless from what has transpired these last 12 hours or so, what the hell happened?

Why on earth did he get voted back in?

What in the world went wrong?

8 years ago he was elected whether you choose to believe it or not, through nefarious means (Russia influence) at the time people fell for his charisma & charm, but soon realised just like women realise when they fall for the charm and the boyish behaviour, there’s a darker side they don’t reveal until it’s too late. Congratulations America, he revealed it pretty early on once he got his claws into the Resolution Table in the Oval Office.

We (the world) watched in horror as he separated families and deported illegals. He overspent on his billionaire friends and made middle and working class suffer. Had no health care plan, no infrastructure or employment plan. No commerce or education - nothing, zilch. He employed sycophants who bowed and grovelled to do his biding (half of them his own family - nepotism much?) he ran America like one of his bankrupt businesses and almost brought America to the ground. He was responsible for not taking responsibility when a pandemic hit the world and over 1 million died under his watch.

America impeached him twice, investigated him multiple times. Decided then they’d had enough and voted him out. You had four years of peace, of prosperity, of employment health care, higher wages and lowering costs. Your country opened up again and healthcare was restored, you started bouncing back, you’re coming has never been better. Meanwhile he ranted and raged the election was stolen, even though every court hearing and document was thrown out. America had turned a page in history for four years.

What the hell happened?

Joe Biden stood for another term but that wasn’t good enough, the America media had an axe to grind and so did it seemed those who were influential in the media circus and he stood aside for a women he picked as his vice. A woman with an incredible record in prosecution and protection of law. A woman who had fought against cartels and won. A woman of scruples and integrity. Who was willing to stand up to him and hold him accountable. A man who has current,y 34 felony convictions including falsifying business records and inflating assets to hide tax fraud. A man with 6 bankruptcies and multiple accusations of predator and rapist behaviour AND YOU HAVE VOTED HIM BACK IN?

Why?

Was it because you like someone with a need for vengeance? Someone who had made it very clear he intends to run America like Russia? A man who stole your nations top secrets and in some cases sold them off? A man for whatever bizzare reason is allowed to do whatever the hell he likes with no repercussions, because he’s Donald Trump?

This is not the America I remember as a child. This is not the president I saw growing up, who took care of his people, who cared for his country, supported their military and stood up to foreign enemies.

I sit here tonight devastated for all the brave and wonderful women and men, who voted to protect theirs and their daughters basic human, reproductive and civil rights. To the persons of all colours and religions, to the victims of domestic and sexual violence. To the wonderful trans community, to the gay marriages built on love. To all those who have fought both home and abroad in service. To the dreamers who see America as a shiny beacon of light & hope. To those who have crossed many roads in search of protection, in a country who had always welcomed you. I feel all of your sadness and anger at what has transpired.

None of this makes sense, none of this adds up.

Kamala Harris was a future light of hope and peace, of working with both sides for democracy to move America forward - now it seems she will be pulled back into the darkest part of her history. Back to when women had no right to vote, no opinion that was listened to, no voice protecting her own body.

She will be silenced once again.

Immigrants will no longer be welcome.

The church will control what happens in marriages and government decisions.

You will no longer be accepted as a trans or LGBTQ+

If you suffer a medical emergency during pregnancy, you will be forced to endure the consequences of either the child dying inside you, or be forced to give birth at “God’s will” Rape is just a word - a pregnancy from it will be unfortunate but a necessary as your right to choose will not matter anymore.

None of this adds up.

I will not accept that a man who got almost the exact same amount of votes as he did in 2020 can be declared the winner and Kamala only got 60 million, where did the other 20 million go? The votes came in too quickly the declaration called too soon. I’m by no means a conspiracy theorist but the math doesn’t add up?

Bomb threats - is America the Middle East? Interference through social media via Elon Musk and China. Giving away money to people who would vote for Trump. It stinks like rotten fish on a warm summers day here in Oz.

My final take.

If I devoted my entire like in government, in prosecution, in upholding the constitution - I would have questions, I would want answers as to how this happened with no increase in Trumps collective votes from 2020, he didn’t increase, he stayed the same.

President Joe Biden in his last few months of power, should launch an investigation because it’s not a case of well America decided to perform a lobotomy on itself and completely wiped the years between 2016-2020 from her memory and only remember the last 102 days, or something or someone played a hand in some very nefarious and illegal vote tampering.

Madam Vice President - do not concede.

[sparklingcid3r]

wut did the convo between darry and child services go like? obvi was complicated but like genuinely how did he convince them he could b the guardian of 2 teenage boys? he genuinely must have nerves of steel.

also like must have been the worse adjustment if he always confided in paul or his dad when stressed, but now has no one. like his just isolation from any close relationship is soooo noticeable, esp compared to his brothers who actively lean on their best friends

just ignore that this might end up horribly inaccurate🙏 i’m here for a good time alr leave me alone😭 but fr darry was going through the traumas of odysseus on his voyage back to ithaca when he should have been getting lit at the club😔

Darry’s shell shock looks a whole lot like numbness. That’s how he feels, too, so when the same officers who just told him they’re very sorry, but his parents have been killed in an accident, he just stares and hears them iterate for him what exactly he needs to get done immediately. He forces himself to actually listen, because this isn’t about him, it’s about Pony and Soda and keeping a roof above their heads.

He needs to locate his ma and dad’s birth certificates and legal documents to have their wills probated and assets distributed, schedule an appointment with the funeral director, schedule a date for the funeral itself, meet with the court to be appointed Pony and Soda’s legal guardian, but that’s only after they deem him fit to be the sole caretaker of two teenagers. They’ll assign them a case manager. They’ll ask him what his salary is, they’ll call his old coaches to ask about his time management and self-discipline—what if he comes up short in some way? What if he makes a mistake and gets his brothers thrown in a home?

Fuck, then there’s the personal arrangements. He needs to call the college dean and tell him extraordinary circumstances have forced him to drop out, probably he’ll still have to pay for the rest of the semester he didn’t get to finish. When the case manager comes over for their meeting—the house is a mess from Darry’s birthday party, they’ll think Darry is okay with raising his brothers in filth. Something about bank statements too, he’s sure he’ll have to go over it, see what his parents have been paying for, what he’ll need to pay for and what he has to cut now that money’s about to be tighter. Bills, taxes, he needs to draw up a system to distribute those payments overdue or not. Groceries, do they need to go shopping soon? With what money? With Darry’s money, he needs to get a job now.

Darry gets to work.

Identifying the bodies is the first thing he does. He lets Steve and Johnny stay over to keep Pony and Soda company. Two-Bit offers to come with Darry to the hospital, but he refuses. When he gets to the hospital, he sees Dally standing at the entrance, cross-armed and stone-faced. He doesn’t even look at Darry when he arrives. Just pushes himself off the pillar and shrugs. “Your call.”

Darry says nothing, so Dally follows him in. The police lead him to the morgue. The sheets are carefully folded back to reveal their faces, and Darry’s stomach heaves and his eyes blur. His parents are shredded. They’re just bodies, sliced, crushed bodies. He doesn’t even realize he stumbling until a steeled hand grabs him and keeps him upright, and Dally’s saying “Easy, easy, man. Breathe, Darrel. That them?”

Darry nods. All he’s think is that it’s going to be a closed casket funeral.

The wills are the next thing he deals with. Once those are probated and the surrogate has deemed them official, Darry is free to pay the fees and obtain his inheritance, as well as transfer his parents’ money to his name in the bank.

Next, Darry searches for a job. Something physical, or something to do with numbers. He was going to be an accountant after all, might as well make some use of the few months he spent studying. After busting his ass hunting and applying, he lands a job at Fitzmorris Roofing and starts as soon as he can. The pay is decent, but not enough, so he keeps looking. Eventually he finds out about a firm at the edge of town looking for a bookkeeper, so Darry goes in for an interview and walks out with his second job.

Then are the bank statements. Darry gets issued a copy of his parents’ bank statements from the previous month and spends entire nights going through them. After crunching the numbers twice, he finds out that in two months from now, they’ll have to go without paying the electricity bill for a few weeks while Darry’s paychecks catch up with expenses. Better than going hungry. They’ll just have to deal with the dark.

So far, they’ve been feeding off the numerous donations from families around town. Lasagnas and casseroles and meatloafs, that’s what they’ve been pushing around their plates for the past two weeks. Darry surmises they have about one more week to make those last, then he’ll need to crack open a cookbook or two.

He meets with the funeral director. He advises Darry on what graveyard to pick, what kinds of caskets to hold the bodies in, how much of the burial will be covered by insurance. All Darry understands is that this is money he’ll need to cut from their budget. It eats at him.

Darry blinks and a week has gone by.

He doesn’t really remembering seeing Pony and Soda during it. Everything’s a blur. But he looks at a calendar and realizes with a seize of his heart that their case manager is supposed to meet them for the first time in—an hour and a half.

Shit, he hasn’t even gotten to cleaning the house yet. There’s laundry on the fucking couch, for Christ’s sake. Darry snatches it up and bangs down Soda and Pony’s door, dumping it on the bed. He sees a lump under the blanket and a jolt rocks him—that’s your brother, that’s Ponyboy, he’s grieving, he’s in pain, he needs help—but all he can do is kick the mattress and tell him, “On your feet, Ponyboy, Mrs. Mulligan’ll be here for dinner.” Pony doesn’t move, but there’s nothing else Darry can do, so he rips the blanket off Pony and leaves, slamming the door behind him because his own strength has become unfamiliar to him.

Soda’s in the backyard doing whatever the hell Soda’s been doing while Darry was out, and he’s called in but he comes trailing in like a wet dog. Darry doesn’t know what he’ll do if this meeting doesn’t go well, if Mulligan says Darry is not suited to provide for his brothers, how he’ll possible be able to live by himself knowing his brothers have been separated, so he snaps for Soda to stand up straight and fix his hair. Soda looks at him blankly, and again there’s a voice in Darry’s head—Sodapop’s not alright, he’s not talking, he’s not smiling, he’s not laughing, you have to fix this—but all he can say is “Now, dammit” and hits the countertop, spooking Soda enough to get him to flee, and Darry’s alone again, cleaning the table of the bills and documents, pushing them on top of the icebox and out of sight.

Darry’s prepped one of their last donated meals, macaroni salad, and set the table as nice as he can.

Fifteen minutes before Mrs. Mulligan arrives, he checks in on Pony and Soda. He stands outside their door, hand raised to knock, but he can hear them talking.

Talking about him.

“He’s gone crazy, Soda, I swear. When’s the last time you saw him stand still for two seconds? If you’ve seen him at all.”

“Dunno, Ponykid.”

“I miss Ma. I miss her and Dad. It’s like Darry hasn’t even noticed they’re gone.”

“Naw, baby, don’t say that. He’s trying, I think. He’s trying awful hard. We just don’t see it.”

“You don’t even know that. What if he’s making plans to shove us in a boys’ home?”

Darry can’t take it. His breath is lodged in his throat, but he can’t go falling apart right now, not when he’s come this far and still has a long way to go. He just knocks and calls them out to the living room.

Darry can’t meet their eyes when they sit in the living room. Pony’s lean on Soda’s shoulder but Darry can’t think about that, he’s got to put the macaroni salad in a bowl and clean off the utensils and “Pony, I told you to wash the dishes this morning.” With his back turned to his brothers, Darry winces. Anger never used to seep out this easily. But everything was enough of a threat to push him over the edge. Everything everyone said to him pierced him like a hook, made his tongue feel heavy and his blood feel hot. He needed to put a lid over it tonight.

Mrs. Mulligan’s eyes don’t rise to Darry’s when he opens the door for her. She looks behind him at their living room, at Soda and Pony on the couch, makes a funny noise in the back of her throat, then extends her hand out to Darry. Immediately Darry knows he’s going to be on the defensive the entire night. This woman does not approve of where Soda and Pony are being raised. Whether that means she doesn’t approve of the East side as a location or Darry as a guardian, he isn’t sure.

She drills him, but it’s disguised as gentle. Darry does everything slowly. Serving the food, making small talk, discussing Pony and Soda’s grades. Mulligan switches to speaking directly to the boys, and Darry’s not hungry, but he pretends to enjoy chewing the rubbery macaroni and keeps his head down.

Despite their reservations about life without their parents, Soda and Pony defend Darry to the case manager. It goes smoothly enough that she leaves Darry with a smile and a promise to stay in touch.

When the door clicks shut, Pony is gone in the blink of an eye back to his room. Soda just stalks into the kitchen and starts wrapping up leftovers, cleaning off the dishes. Darry tries to get Soda to sleep, but Soda turns to him.

“I’ll do the dishes, Darry. Just don’t get mad at Pony.”

“No, Soda, I’ll do it—“

“You’re tired, Darry. Let me be useful?”

Soda always knew how to spin the conversation in his favor. He was right. Darry was tired. He was just… tired.

But there’s a reason Darry hasn’t given himself a restful night yet. He doesn’t trust himself yet.

“Give me the sponge, Sodapop. Pony needs you.”

Darry’s had sixteen years to learn how to outmaneuver his kid brother. He’s not in the mood to fight fair.

Soda concedes and draws away from the sink, but he lingers in the doorway. “We need you, too, Darry.”

“I know. I’ll be here in the morning.”

He wouldn’t be. He’d be gone by the time they woke up, on top of a roof with bundles of roofing slung over his shoulder, but it wasn’t his physical presence that mattered. He was going to keep their heads above water, no matter what it took.

“When’s the funeral?” asks Soda.

“Friday.”

Two days. Two days until it was official and their parents were covered in dirt. Darry just needed to keep it together until then.

“G’night, Darry.”

“G’night.”

When the funeral comes, Darry’s quiet. Pony and Soda are weeping, unashamed by it, so Darry’s the one people feel comfortable giving their condolences to. He shakes a lot of hands, feels disgusted by it, like he’s collecting germs and other people’s bad luck. The gang is there, even Dally, but they hang in the back of the crowd, discounting Two-Bit, who’s up front with his ma and sister.

After Darry gives the eulogy he doesn’t remember writing, he watches twin caskets get sunk into the ground, dirt spilling on top of them, and Darry is officially alone. He leaves the ceremony, goes and sits down on a bench outside the fencing.

Not yet. Don’t break yet.

A shadow falls across his own. Dally’s taking drags from a cigarette at his side. He’s just as quiet as Darry, but offers the cancer stick. Darry accepts it, taking a few puffs. He’s out of practice and coughs the first time. Dally just pats his back and waits for him to try again. It feels good, but not the kind of good Darry knows he can depend on. He’s still got to stay healthy if he’s going to be trudging around in the sun for half his day and sitting around doing math for the other half.

“Do what you gotta do, as long as it’s nothing permanent,” Dally says.

“Couldn’t if I wanted to,” Darry replies, handing back the cigarette. His eyes sting.

It’s like the world’s stopped rotating after his parents are put to rest. Not when Darry actually expected it to. He closes the door to his parents’ bedroom, the room he’s been sleeping in for the past… however long it’s been.

He doesn’t even make it to the bed. The moment the door’s locked behind him, Darry’s loosening his dad’s tie from his neck, yanking at his dad’s collar to untighten his airways, but it doesn’t work. He slumps against the door and slides down, messing up his hair and crying into his arms, only as hard as his silence will allow. Pony and Soda are in the next room over, still teary, consoling each other. Darry won’t steal their reprieve.

He falls apart alone, wondering how he’s meant to wake up tomorrow in a world he doesn’t want to live in. And when he picks himself up and puts himself back together, he’ll do that alone too. He doesn’t have a choice.

istg sometimes yall just gotta LET ME COOK 👩‍🍳 can u tell i got super into it the longer i went on for lmao

oh btw this doesn’t scratch the surface of everything darry prob needed to do. he would have had to choose what his parents wore in their caskets, dealt with the scrapping of the car, assumed responsibility of the real estate deed (the house), communicated with pony and soda’s high school, communicated with his parents’ former employers, etc etc. the break was uncatchable i fear

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Price and Nik fuck in Price's office after an (in)opportune twinge of an old injury.

CW: vaginal sex (yes, I transed your Price, and I'll do it again! I can't be stopped), threat of 'being discovered', handjob. [Terminology: cunt, cock.]

Old injuries rearing their ugly mugs at inopportune times was nothing new. As you aged through the service, it took chunks of you with it and Price's body was riddled with scars, dodgy nerves and aching joints. A particularly bad landing had left his back in a state some years ago, but it had been nothing a few rounds of physio and some leave hadn't fixed… or so he’d thought.

It was easy to disregard medical’s advice when you were younger. Everything seemed to bounce back in your twenties with no harm done. But despite warnings from senior colleagues who had experienced much the same, Price had let the physio and stretching lapse, because he had more important bloody things to do in the evenings than perfect his downward dog. His arrogance came back to haunt him as he leaned over a map of urban sprawl with Nikolai, trying to pick a safe spot for Nik’s heli to land.

“Safest exfil spots are here, here and–christ.”

Nik hummed, mildly amused at first. “I am not sure he will be much of an asset for this–Price?” 

Price knew he looked a prize twat slumped on the map on one elbow, the other hand flailing to try and get to the point in his back that felt like someone had jammed a Bowie knife between his vertebrae. He scrambled at the map, scrunching it between his fingers in search of purchase as the pain punched the air from his lungs. “It’s–ahh, fuck,” he wheezed, his face flushing red with embarrassment.

“Jonathan,” Nik said, softer, concerned, and if that didn't just make it worse. The big Russian circled the table and placed his hands at Price’s waist to steady him as he flailed, clearly ascertaining said flails were making it worse. “Tell me what to do. It hurts, where?”

Price drew in deep breaths through his nose, shoulders hunched over. He tried not to think about the giant bear paws settled so carefully at his waist, nor the way Nik’s crotch lined up perfectly with his backside because that was an entirely normal bloody thing to be thinking about when your back was doing a good imitation of a London back alley stabbing. 

There was a clear choice: huff and puff his way through it in hopes the nerve or whatever the fuck it was eased itself, or let Nik assist and get back to work, feathers only mildly ruffled. Price took another steadying breath. “It's… lumber, uh… lower back, betw–mmph, between L1 and… an, L3 to the right, just…”

One of Nik’s hands moved from Price’s waist, tugging his shirt free from his trousers so a warm palm could reach his skin. “Here?” 

“A little out to the right, up… ah, there… yeah.” Price’s shoulders slumped as Nik found the spot. The pain was acute at first, Price’s teeth and fists clenching as Nik worked it over, and then it dulled into a deeper ache; the low, throbbing relief of a splinter removed from the skin. Price’s heart, which had been trying to hammer free of his chest, settled. Nik’s pressure was perfect, his other hand on Price's hip, steadying him, occasionally circled in a brief caress. To reach properly Nik had to press close, and in the comfortable lull of relief, Price’s body started to respond; a building heat beneath his skin, a coiled tension in his hips. Shit, shit.

“Is good?” Nik asked, his voice still soft, patient. 

But Price could hear something else there; a wry amusement. “This isn't bloody funny, Nik.” Ruffled, Price scowled into his forearms, but was privately glad his bluster didn't cause the pressure to cease. If anything, Nik branched out, rubbing at the rest of Price's back in a wide arc, and chuckled. Bloody chuckled. A deep, hearty noise that made that tension twist a little tighter in Price’s groin.

“It's just… this was not how I pictured bending you over for the first time, you know. There was… uhm, more beer involved. Perhaps a… date.”

Price’s face turned the shade of a commie’s flag and he choked on his next breath. The rest of his body, rather unhelpfully, warmed with pleasure at the thought of it. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Deadly,” Nik replied, without missing a beat. “You are an attractive man. I think of you very… well, hmm, highly. But you are… difficult to reach. Private, hm?”

Nik enjoyed touching him, Price realised. He could feel it in the reverence of Nik’s hand as it glided in firm circles around his back. He returned in passes to the sore spot, but now he seemed to be savouring what he could, lingering at Price’s ribs, in the valley of his spine, following the curves of each flexed muscle and leaving goosebumps in his wake. Price knew he should do something, say something, put a stop to it before it could escalate… but he didn't want to. Bloody hell, he didn't want to.

A soft haze had settled over his mind, calmed by the strength in the large palms soothing away his pain and the warm timber in Nik’s voice. Fuck it, he was wet too, why even try to lie to himself? This was the most someone had touched him beyond a physical in years. If anyone walked in now… their superior officer bent over a damn map table, his hips tilted just to feel Nik bump against his… christ. Small bloody mercies that they were all off base for the moment. “Mmm. Nik, I…”

“You have not pushed me away, I am glad.”

“Why would I do that? Your hands feel like fucking god…”

Nik chuckled again, squeezing gently just about Price’s hips in what was undeniably an affectionate way, before moving up. “You are a joy, John Price.” Nik paused where his thumbs had been working over the expanse of Price's shoulder blades, like he was weighing something up. “I would like to show you what else they can do, and… other things.”

This was the turning point. If Price said no now, he knew Nik would honour it and they could return to the map. What they were actually here for at some godforsaken bloody hour. The mission was a few days away. They had time. Price couldn't quite believe his mind was talking him into… he wasn't sure what, but he wanted it. Wanted it bad. He just needed Nik to keep touching him, and talking like he was the prettiest damn thing in the world. “I’d like that.”

Nik’s breath hitched and his hands paused. A small victory, but it didn't last. He continued his leisurely, firm massage down to Price’s waistband with a soft hum, resuming command of the situation as naturally as if they sat in the cockpit of his heli. “Your back.. is better?”

“Mm, feels solid.” Only a small lie. There was an ice pack and a pack of ibuprofen in his future. 

“Good…”

Nik’s hands swept gently around Price’s waist to his belly, stroking up to his chest where Nik raked blunt nails through the fur there. “Ya tebya hochu,” he growled, and Price wasn't fucking sure what he’d said, but it sounded hungry. Nik guided Price up gently, hesitant perhaps in case he jarred his back, and Price looked down to watch those big hands explore the curves and valleys of his torso as the first kiss pressed to his neck. It was like electric over his skin, which seemed apt considering the storm of arousal brewing in his damned boxers. Fuck this was too good.

“You are… eager,” Nik said, a little awed, as his palms stroked over Price’s hard nipples.

“You have no idea… ahh.” Price pressed back against the strong body behind him and tilted his head to press his face into Nik’s stubble, curling a hand up to slide into his hair. Nik smelled of faded cologne and clean sweat, the motor oil from his earlier maintenance run, the leather of his brown jacket; Price pressed his nose into warm skin and breathed him in like he was oxygen on a deep dive, pressure coiling tighter in his gut. He hadn’t realised how starved he was of basic human contact, every fiber of him wanted to crawl inside Nik’s skin, to sink his teeth in, burrow away until he was completely consumed by Russian bear.

As if sensing Price’s building desperation, one of Nik’s hands slid down, following the trail of hair at the centre of Price’s stomach, hitching over the buckle of his belt, to settle between his legs. He hummed low in his throat, his other big paw grasping beneath Price’s chin to hold his face close as he teased. 

With the same firm pressure that had relieved the pain in Price’s back, he now stroked Price’s cunt, finding his engorged cock through the material of his trousers and boxers with a pleased hum. Price moaned, louder in the room than he intended, and gripped the wrist of that wandering hand as an anchor point. Nik seemed to like it. He muttered something in Russian again, pressing his hips into Price’s backside so he could feel the firm bulge at the front of his jeans.

“I would take you here, I…” Nik whispered, voice thick, pressing another kiss to Price's neck. “I am desperate for you.”

It was fucking stupid; in his office, the door unlocked, but Price’s head was full of Nikolai and need and not much else. His hips were twitching into the hand massaging in slow, deliberate circles between his legs, sure he would come fully clothed if Nik kept going. Another kiss, another soft phrase uttered in Russian, a squeeze of his jaw and throat beneath the big paw that held him in place to remind him of his surrender, and Price murmured. “Yeah. Here. Now.”

Nik growled, possessive, delighted, and nipped another kiss into the soft skin beneath Price’s ear. Price lost the hand teasing him for a moment as it tugged his belt off and undid his fly, and Price watched it happen as his boots scrambled for purchase against the floor. Nik licked his fingers leisurely, the wet sound of it making Price’s knees go weak with anticipation, before sliding into Price's boxers without more preamble; Nik knew what he wanted.

The first touch was euphoric; a gentle stroke over his hard cock, curious and appreciative. Nik lingered there, pads of his fingers passing over it, enjoying the eager hardness, before stroking up and down its length with finger and thumb in a way that made Price stutter and whimper in surprised pleasure. When Price jolted, Nik held his chin a little firmer, lifting him against his chest to keep him off balance. The bastard loved having Price at his mercy and he was keeping him that way apparently. Price couldn't find it in him to fuss over his lack of control; yielding to Nik’s lead felt… good.

Price made a strangled noise in his throat as Nik's fingers left his cock and delved into the wet, eager folds of his cunt like it belonged to him. Price knew he was soaking but the sounds of Nik’s exploration were fucking obscene, the pleasure swelling through Price’s hips as Nik experimented with different pressures and movements to find what made Price noisiest. From soft gasps to decadent moans when Nik found the combination that worked; a slow, easy glide from cock to hole that hit every nerve ending.

Nik paused only to shove Price’s trousers a little lower down his thighs, freeing his hand from their constraint and making Price feel a damn sight more exposed, barely able to stand on tiptoes the way Nik was holding him. Now that Nik had secured his captain, he wasn't going anywhere, pinned to Nik’s broad chest as strong fingers teased him relentlessly to his peak. “Mm, so wet, perfect…” Nik whispered, slowly stroking his thumb down Price’s cock while a finger slipped gently inside. It couldn't go far at this angle, but it was enough to push Price closer to the brink. 

“Nik, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna…” Price growled, clenching down on Nik’s finger as it teased his sensitive opening, collecting more of his slick before returning to his cock. “Please, faster, fucking–”

“Bistreye?”

“Nik!”

Another low chuckle. “Ya skhozhu po tebe s uma…”

“Ahh, fu-fuck.” 

Nik’s touch was perfect, massaging the flats of his fingers in swift circles, pinning Price's body to him so that he couldn’t buck away and lessen the intensity. Nik was playing Price like an instrument, soft chuckles of joy and amusement bursting free between adoring kisses against Price’s neck, encouraging him towards his peak in soft whispers that melted in and out of English like the ebb of a tide.

Price’s orgasm spread through him in a heady rush, an irresistible heat from the tips of Nik’s fingers that left him breathless and wound taut. He tried to close his thighs but Nik kept his hand there, slowing, gentling, so that Price could enjoy the aftershocks without overstimulation, yet still forced to endure the full extent of his pleasure at Nik’s hand. 

As his shudders calmed, gasped breaths abating, Nik let Price slump forward on shaking legs, his elbows braced over the map. Price looked over his shoulder just in time to see Nik slide his wet fingers into his mouth, those dark eyes closed as he savoured Price’s taste with a guttural moan. Price let out a shaky breath and rested his forehead on the table, unable to cope with the sight or what if did to him too long and still keep his balance. Fuck, fuck. “Nik…”

In the next breath, Price heard the click and clatter of Nik’s belt and watched it coil on the table by his elbow; he stared at it for a long moment, the reality of what he'd asked for catching up in the afterglow. Nik’s hand returned to his naked hip, stroking, asking. Price huffed an incredulous laugh; a bark of breath as his head fell between his shoulders. In for a penny in for a pound, right? “Yeah,” he said, sliding one booted foot further out as he presented himself for Nik’s attention. “Yeah. Here.” 

Nik growled in excited pleasure, like a damned that damned Russian bear he so reminded Price of, and Price couldn't help the dizzy, stupid grin on his mug. It faltered into open mouthed awe when he felt Nik’s finger again, sliding over his cunt from behind before dipping into his hole in a deeper thrust. “You're so relaxed,” Nik said, clearly enraptured by the sight of Price’s body sucking so eagerly at his fingers, even when he added a second.

“Cause I want you… want this,” Price replied, surprised by how hoarse and fucked out his voice already sounded. He'd never understood the ‘tight’ shit in porno. Tight meant reluctant in his book; one partner hadn't done enough to work up the other, or worse. This… this felt a hundred times fucking better. Nik seemed to agree, because as his fingers withdrew, the very next thing that pressed against Price was the large head of his cock. It rubbed through his folds, and Price ducked his head to watch it slide beneath his own eager prick, dripping in precum and glistening with his slick.

Nik moaned, uttering another slew of Russian as he thrust lazily against Price's cunt. He wasn't in any rush and Price was content to let him tease himself into a furor, eyes sliding shut as sparks of pleasure marked his progress. Nik was thick, and long, and Price’s body throbbed in desperate anticipation of what it would feel like splitting him open. He dropped a hand between his legs to feel the velvet-clad iron of it; the soft underside gliding over his palm as Price pressed it against his cunt, the hint of heavy balls nudging against his fingertips. “C’mon, Nik. C’mon.”

“Mmm, I love it when you beg.” Nik rested a palm on Price’s back as he pressed the fat head of his cock to his hole, exerting only enough pressure for his glans to notch in twitching muscle. “You are… exactly as I dreamed.”

Price breathed out as Nik sank into him, his walls fluttering and clutching with pleasure as every successive inch opened him up. Price dragged his nails across the desk, tearing at the edges of the map, and it took all his self discipline to not collapse forward and whimper in surrender. It had been… a while, and relaxed as he was, there was nothing quite like being filled to the brim by a generously sized prick. The feeling of fullness, of warmth, of struggling to breathe around the intensity of it, two strong hands on his hips to hold him in place. Unmatched.

“Oh, John…” Nik breathed, speech a little slurred. Drunk on me, Price’s fucked out brain offered. It was his last sane thought before Nik began to rock his hips. He moaned into his forearms, tasting his own damp skin as he tried to muffle his noise. Nik’s hand slid up Price’s spine to bury in his hair, tugging lightly until Price lifted his face. “Nyet, let me hear, John. Please.”

Price obliged because he could do nothing but gift his body to Nik's demands. Every thrust made his toes curl in his boots, Nik’s thick cock imprinting itself inside him, the obscenely wet sounds of each slap of skin filling the room as Price’s arousal and desire crested. The angle was perfect, Nik’s firm hand dropping to Price’s shoulder to keep him arched just so from the table, pulling him back to meet his hips.

Nik kept the pace measured at first, trying to long out his first taste of Price’s body but he quickened as his own desperation took hold. He gripped tighter at Price’s hip, his other leaving Price’s back to plant on the table for purchase. Price watched as strong fingers curled against the wood grain, accompanied by reverent mutterings that flowed in and out of Russian and English, like Nik wanted to express his adoration in a way that Price could understand but the primal part of his mind could only muster his default. 

To have someone so lost in him was a heady kind of power, and Price might feel emboldened by it, if his own brain hadn't been metaphorically melting with the searing pleasure of Nik’s cock and the overwhelming weight of him keeping Price pinned to the table. Price followed orders, he didn't muffle his whimpers and grunts, building towards another peak without even touching his cock under the relentless precision of Nik’s over the sweet spot inside him. Nik let out a pleased snarl when Price finally clenched around him in fitful stutters, fingers tearing the edge of the map, his sweat-slicked forehead pressed down in helpless ecstasy. 

Nik pulled out just as Price’s aftershocks began to plateau into a more stable pleasure, but Price didn't have a chance to complain. He was turned, his arse lifted onto the edge of the table as Nik wrenched off his boots, trousers and boxers with unapologetic urgency. Price got his first proper look at that majestic prick against the rest of Nik, and felt his chest jitter. Thick and long had been right, with a slight upward curve and a dark thatch of hair at the base, soaked with Price’s slick and come. Nik had lifted his shirt out of the way, and it sat shucked halfway up his abdomen; there were no chiselled abs, but an attractive plushness that made Price’s mouth water at the thought of rubbing his face into the hair there. Later, he'd do it later, when Nik was naked in his bed. Price would allow himself that indulgence.

Nik kicked Price’s boots out the way and stepped back between his thighs. Price latched onto the table, but Nik gentled him with a soft kiss. “Relax, John… trust me, I will not drop you,” he whispered to Price's lips. And Price did trust him. Trusted him to save their arses in a bind, to kill, kidnap and maim at his request, to always be there when he was most needed, no questions asked. Trusting him with his body in this way felt as natural as breathing, Price realised. 

Those big hands scooped around him to bring him to the edge and then planted behind his knees to spread him wide. Those dark eyes watched Price for pain, tuned in and attentive even through his haze of lust. Price looked up to Nik's face and saw that very same hunger again, inspecting Price’s face and apparently liking what it found. 

“Watch me take you,” Nik demanded, and Price looked down as Nik guided his thick cock back into the eager clutch of his cunt, choking out a gasp even as it felt like Nik was jostling his lungs for space. Like Nik was leaving his mark inside him. Price accepted the deep, possessive kiss that followed as Nik bottomed out, buried as close to the hilt as he could. Nothing quite like a considerate lover… fuck, of course he was. Strong hands slid down the backs of his thighs to cup his arse, leaving Price’s legs to hook over his forearms.

Price soon realised why Nik wanted him like this. He wanted to watch Price fall apart, to savour every squeak, moan and pant he coaxed out of Price’s chest, but it wasn't one-sided. Price got to see it all in Nik’s face too. The open-mouthed wonder, the misty eyes with wide pupils that looked at Price with unabashed adoration. Price threw an arm around Nik’s shoulders, clinging on for dear fucking life, as he slipped a hand between them to touch his own cock. Nik pressed kisses into the scruff of his beard, occasionally his lips as if he could taste the moans he coaxed, but he always returned to Price’s eyes to consume what he found there, and Price couldn't look away. 

No one in his life had ever looked at him like that. 

Like he had hung the bloody sun, like he was all their dreams come true at once. 

Overwrought, every nerve ending tingling with sensitivity, Price couldn’t contain the broken noises escaping his throat nor control the way his body came in a flood of wetness over Nik’s cock when his third orgasm licked up his spine and unfurled through every limb. He might have sworn and snarled, his teeth biting at Nik’s shoulder at the sheer intensity of it; his vision whited, the pleasure bordering on pain.

Nik’s hips stuttered before grinding in deep as he came, shoved over the brink by the sight of his lover unspooling, both hands cupping Price’s arse to pull him close as he pumped him full. Nik nudged Price’s chin up with his nose and kissed him deeply again as his cock pulsed in the aftershocks, buried deep in the clutch of Price’s body. Price slumped against the barrelled chest in front of him when he was allowed breath, wrapped his legs around Nik’s waist and pressed a heel into Nik’s backside, drawing him yet closer, like if he pulled hard enough they could really merge into one.

They stood wrapped in each other until Nik’s cock softened to the brink of discomfort. He pulled away reluctantly, nipping kisses into the scruff of Price’s beard, as he guided Price's legs down. Price was grateful; he felt shakier than a newborn fawn.

“We need to get cleaned up,” Nik said softly, his hands resting on Price's hips as he nosed his sweaty neck and shoulders, riddled with his love bites.

“My room. We can use the en suite.” Price thanked whatever god still took an interest in him for Captain’s privilege. The walk of shame to communal showers would have been too much. 

“Hmm. Sounds good.” Nik tucked his cock away and slid his belt back into place and, despite the bitemarks and nail scratches on his neck that Price had managed to return, the sweat and the ruffled hair, looked relatively normal. Bastard.

They left the wrecked map behind and headed to the safety and quiet of Price’s quarters. While Price might have thought his shower would be solo, Nik quickly disabused him of that idea by crowding him into the cubicle and using the opportunity to explore his body further, hands and lips consuming everything they could reach. 

They slept together in Price’s narrow cot that night. Nik found Price's first aid kick and ensured there was a heat pack on his back for a few hours, stroking through Price's hair in the comfortable quiet of their afterglow. Price woke to soft, groggy kisses and a cheeky entreaty for more sex… if his back was up for it. As Nik nudged his thigh forward and pressed inside him from behind, wrapping Price in his arms for the tenderest fuck he had ever experienced in his thirty-seven years on this earth, Price couldn't help but wonder what the fuck had taken him so long.

[galaxygolfergirl]

Watcher's Expenses

I didn't major in accounting: I took three classes and it grinded my brain to a fine powder. However, after graduating with a business admin degree, being a former eager fan of their videos, and from a cursory glance over their socials, there's a lot to consider in their spending behavior that really could start racking up costs. Some of these things we've already noticed, but there are other things I'd like to highlight, and I'll try to break it down into the different categories of accounting expenses (if I get something wrong, let me know. I was more concentrated in marketing 🤷‍♀️). I'm not going to hypothesize numbers either, as that would take out more time than I'm willing to afford-- you can assume how much everything costs. Anyways, here's my attempt at being a layman forensic accountant:

Note: All of this is assuming they're operating above board and not engaging in any illegal practices such as money laundering, tax evasion, not paying rent, etc.

Operating Expenses

Payroll: 25+ staff salaries and insurance

Overhead Expenses

CEO/founder salaries

Office space leasing or rent (In L.A, one of the most expensive cities in the US)

Utilities (water, electricity, heating, sanitation, etc.)

Insurance

Advertising Costs

Telephone & Internet service

Cloud Storage or mainframe

Office equipment (furniture, computers, printers, etc.)

Office supplies (paper, pens, printer ink, etc.)

Marketing costs (Social media marketing on Instagram, Youtube, SEO for search engines, Twitter, etc. Designing merchandise and posters, art, etc. )

Human Resources (not sure how equipped they are)

Accounting fees

Property taxes

Legal fees

Licensing fees

Website maintenance (For Watchertv.com, Watcherstuff.com, & Watcherentertainment.com)

Expenses regarding merchandising (whoever they contract or outsource for that)

Inventory costs

Potentially maintenance of company vehicles

Subsequent gas mileage for road trips

Depreciation (pertains to tangible assets like buildings and equipment)

Amortization (intangible assets such as patents and trademarks)

Overhead Travel and Entertainment Costs (I think one of the biggest culprits, evident in their videos and posts)

The travel expenses (flights, train trips, rental cars, etc. For main team and scouts)

Hotel expenses for 7-8 people at least, or potentially more

Breakfasts, lunches and dinners with the crew (whether that's fully on their dime or not, I don't know; Ryan stated they like to cover that for the most part)

Recreational activities (vacation destinations, amusement parks, sporting activities etc.)

The location fees

Extraneous Overhead costs (not sure exactly where these fall under, but another culprit, evident in videos and posts)

Paying for guest appearances

Expensive filming & recording equipment (Cameras, sound equipment, editing software subscriptions, etc.)

The overelaborate sets for Ghost files, Mystery Files, Puppet History, Podcasts etc. (Set dressing: Vintage memorabilia, antiquated tech, vintage furniture, props, etc.)

Kitchen & Cooking supplies/equipment

Office food supply; expensive food and drink purchases for videos

Novelty items or miscellaneous purchases (ex. Ghost hunting equipment, outfits, toys, etc.)

Non-Operating Expenses

These are those expenses that cannot be linked back to operating revenue. One of the most common examples of non-operating expenses is interest expense. This is because while interest is the cost of borrowing money from a creditor or a bank, they are not generating any operating income. This makes interest payments a part of non-operating expenses.

Financial Expenses

Potential loan payments, borrowing from creditors or lenders, bank loans, etc.

Variable Expenses

Hiring a large amount of freelancers, overtime expenditure, commissions, etc.

PR consultations (Not sure if they had this before the scandal)

Extraordinary Expenses

Expenses incurred outside your company’s regular business activities and during a large one-time event or transactions. For example, selling land, disposal of a significant asset, laying off of your employees, unexpected machine repairing or replacement, etc.

Accrued Expenses

When your business has incurred an expense but not yet paid for it.

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

(If there's anything else I'm missing, please feel free to add or correct things)

To a novice or a young entrepreneur, this can be very intimidating if you don't have the education or the support to manage it properly. I know it intimidates the hell out of me and I'm still having to fill in the gaps (again, if I've mislabeled or gotten anything wrong here, please let me know). For the artistic or creative entrepreneur, it can be even harder to reconcile the extent of your creative passions with your ability to operate and scale your business at a sustainable rate. That can lead to irresponsible, selfish, and impulsive decisions that could irreparably harm your brand, which is a whole other beast of its own.

My guess at this point is that their overhead and operation expenses are woefully mismanaged; they've made way too many extraneous purchases, and that they had too much confidence in their audience of formerly 2.93 million to make up for the expenses they failed to cover.

It almost seems as if their internal logic was, "If we make more money, we can keep living the expensive lifestyle that we want and make whatever we want without anyone telling us we can't, and we want to do it NOW, sooner rather than later because we don't want wait and compromise our vision." But as you can see, the reality of fulfilling those ambitions is already compromised by the responsibility of running a business.

And I wrote this in another post here, but I'll state it again: Running a business means you need to be educated on how a business can successfully and efficiently operate. Accounting, marketing, social media marketing, public relations, production, etc; these resources and internet of things is available and at your disposal. If they had invested more time in educating themselves on those aspects and not made this decision based on artistic passion (and/or greed), they would have not gotten the response they got.

Being a graphic designer, I know the creative/passionate side of things but I also got a degree/got educated in business because I wanted to understand how to start a company and run it successfully. If they’re having trouble handling the responsibility of doing that, managing production costs, managing overhead expenses, and especially with compensating their 25+ employees, then they should hire professionals that are sympathetic to their creative interests, but have the education and experience to reign in bad decisions like these.

Anyways, thanks for coming to my TedTalk. What a shitshow this has been.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Cammy White X Male Reader NSFW-A Nice Shower

Warnings: NSFW MDNI, Shower Sex, Asexual Writer, impregnation.

Anon On Ao3 requested: Cammy White/male reader: NSFW intimate shower after sparring

be warned, this is my second time writing true smut, so I ask you to temper your expectations.

NOW! YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND!!!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“I think… that.. Is enough… for today.” Cammy panted out as she sat down next to you on the bench and laid her head on your shoulder.

“I… agree…” you muttered as your head fell to the side on top of Cammy’s.

“We need to shower…” Cammy groaned,

“Agreed…” you mumbled quietly.

A quiet silence passed between the two of you.

“Do you want to try shower sex when we get home?” Cammy asked, shocking you out of your stupor.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“A-are you sure about this Cammy?” you asked as your nude lover dragged you into the shower.

“Yes. Now-” Cammy turned away to turn on the water “-Let’s get started. The body wash is behind you. I think I know what to do.”

You did indeed know what to do. 

Cammy, despite being a secret service agent, seemed to forget you share a private computer.

Cammy is also quite bad at covering up her search history.

If she even meant to cover it up in the first place.

But enough musing on that.

You squirted out a suitable amount of body wash for this event and set to work.

You started with Cammy’s back and shoulders, gently loosening the muscle. Following that you moved downwards, allowing yourself the indulgence of ghosting your fingers over Cammy’s heart shaped posterior before circling around to the front and running your soapy hands up and down her solid abs before rising up further to her chest where Cammy let out a quiet moan as your hands gently circled her breasts, the bodywash rapidly foaming up under your hands and adding to Cammy’s pleasure due to the sensation.

To show her appreciation of this, she began to slowly rub her bountiful and taut ass on your cock, forcing your mental control to slip and in turn, causing it to become rock hard almost instantaneously.

“Mmmh… glad to see you like the warm up so much, now let’s see-'' Cammy quickly removed her heavenly posterior, causing your dick to fall down and point straight at Cammy’s soaked thighs. This was all to Cammy’s plan who immediately pushed back, lodging your rock hard cock in what Cammy was proud to call her most dangerous asset in this type of encounter, Her thighs. “-How you enjoy the first exercise?”

Bolts of pure pleasure shot through your body as Cammy used her thighs to pleasure you, in turn your hands grabbed and groped the blonde bombshells breasts.

In response, Cammy let out a quiet hiss.

She was enjoying this more than she thought.

The burning hot water, the feel of her skin on yours, the way that both of you were slowly losing control.

She was starting to understand why shower sex was such a popular trope in those books.

It was, for lack of a better word, “Hot”.

However, before Cammy could move forward with this train of thought or her plan, she was turned around and pushed against the wall of the shower where her lips were captured and she felt something very hard push against her pussy.

Cammy had made you lose all sense of control.

She was proud of that.

Unfortunately, she was losing control as well.

She was human after all.

Then, the need for oxygen forced you two apart, much to the displeasure of both of you.

At that moment, the both of you had the same thing on your minds.

Or it would be more accurate, your bodies had one single thing that both of them wanted desperately, whatever your minds or rational thought said against it be damned.

The two of you wanted to breed.

To fuck.

To rail each other until you were both seeing stars.

Then, after that, to keep fucking like animals.

This was a mutual desire to completely and utterly ruin the other for anyone else.

And utterly ruin each other you did.

It was to be expected in a matter involving both love and lust.

Your shared love for the other.

Your shared lust to make the other completely theirs.

 Then finally, the wire snapped.

You attacked Cammy’s neck, nipping and biting and kissing up until her jaw, forcing a true moan from her lips.

Cammy grabbed your hand and made it run down her entire body while her other hand held your head close.

Her hand guided you from her beautiful face to her perfect breasts, down her stone hard abs, past her hips and onto her ass.

Cammy removed her hand from your own and grasped a different part of you tightly.

Your rock hard cock throbbed in her hand in beat with your heart beat.

Her pussy throbbed with the same rhythm.

You panted into her ear.

She panted into yours.

You both knew what came next.

You both knew you wanted it.

So then, you both took what you wanted.

Pleasure shot through both of you like lightning as Cammy’s boiling warmth swallowed you and your dick hit Cammy in just the right place.

Sounds of pure pleasure tore from the both of you.

There was no thought of taking it slow, not now.

The two of you tore each other apart.

Cammy clawed at your back, moaning loudly with every thrust and locking her legs behind you, ensuring you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to.

You held Cammy tightly, your hand on her ass, another holding her thigh as you went wild.

Skin crashed against skin.

Pleasure multiplied pleasure.

The pressure of release invited more pleasure.

Then Cammy grabbed your head in her hands and forced her mouth onto yours.

Tongues danced and dueled to a frenzied and sensual beat, not trying to dominate, but to taste the other completely.

Then, neither of you could ignore it any longer.

The throbbing of your cock.

The unbearable heat in her stomach.

You both knew what was coming.

It wasn’t going to stop either of you.

The two of you would be doing this dance until neither of you could dance any more.

Cammy screamed into your mouth as her Orgasm tore through her.

You groaned back as you flooded the womb of your beautiful lover.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-A Few weeks Later-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-

The Dolls were running around the house you and Cammy share with a madcap and excited energy about them.

Even Decapre seemed pretty jazzed about the news despite her stone face hiding it.

Cammy herself might have been the most excited out of all of them though.

What is the cause for all of this commotion?

The answer: A positive test in Cammy’s excitedly shaking hand.