#mr. robot appreciation

[syppys-den]

Interspecies Adoption appreciation post

[ondeemand]

Transformers One Review

For the sake of convenience, I’ll be referring to the characters as their new names (Optimus Prime, Megatron, Bumblebee) instead of their old ones (Orion Pax, D-16, B-127).

Also, I didn’t grow up with Transformers, so this will be mostly from an outsider’s perspective. I can’t tell what possibly was or wasn’t a retcon or how accurate to the source material it was, but I think the background info on their world held up very well and they were able to explain it clearly to new viewers like me. It definitely would have hit harder if I grew up with Transformers and knew more than just facts from cultural osmosis, but I still enjoyed the movie a lot.

Notes/Things I’m Neutral On

Very weird to hear my name (Dee) being said throughout most of the movie by Chris Hemsworth’s bad American accent.

Also, I forgot that Megatron has transformed into ground vehicles before. I only ever knew him to turn into a jet, so I was kind of confused that he was a tank in this movie. I hope we get to see him get upgraded to a jet in the next one, but the tank is still cool.

Pros/Things I Liked

Simple but effective color theory with their eye colors. Main good guys have blue while Megatron has yellow, sitting between good and bad. Still a friendly color at first, but slowly turns closer to orange and then fully red as his anger and hatred consume him (and after he met the red-eyed Starscream, a cowardly man who ends up enabling Megatron‘s more violent/aggressive tendencies)

○ Also I don’t know if I was just seeing things, but it looked like Megatron’s eyes got more yellow whenever he looked at Optimus which is so sad and so gay.

I really thought they were gonna push a romance between Elita and either Bumblebee (goofy manchild x competent woman trope) or Optimus (male lead x female lead, blue x pink), but I was pleasantly surprised that they didn’t. Sadly, there’s still time for it in future installments, but I can dream.

Not to be gay, but spider woman sexy. Airachnid was so obviously evil that it was funny, but I can’t fault Sentinel for having her around because I, too, would want a deadly goth woman to be my right-hand lady. They felt like the evil, less developed versions of Mustang and Hawkeye. I am in love.

The animation is gorgeousssss. The environments, the character designs, the fight choreography, the transformations, the lighting, the texture, mwah mwah MWAH STUNNING!!!

○ Sorry, I’m never gonna stop talking about this. The way they were able to make square/blocky figures move so fluidly was fantastic (and proof of concept that a fully animated Minecraft movie would have worked). ○ The camera angles were also great for framing both the dramatic, intense, and/or high-action moments like fights or chase scenes, while also adding a lot to the comedic moments. Like when the camera stays tracking Optimus’ face when running through the forest, only for him to suddenly fall down a cliff neither he nor us saw coming, only to then zoom out to the perspective of the guards below, showing them stumbling and falling. ○ The contrast between the mechanical and organic elements on the surface were really cool, and the way it was introduced was able to convey this idea that organic life was this strange, alien thing. ○ The way the surface just rebuilds itself into these jagged, blocky terrains was really unique and interesting! It felt like a glitched computer model because of its rougher shapes which really added to the fear and hostility of the surface.

90% of their jokes landed and they landed hard. The bit where Optimus looks like he’s about to transform and then just fucking books it is incredible. The audio and camera work help add to these as well, like the music building as Optimus pretends to transform, the camera zooming in close to different parts of him, only for all background noise to cut out as it shows Optimus running away. I won’t name every joke and quip I found funny or we’d be here all day, but they’re certainly a highlight of the movie.

I love Keegan-Michael Key, but I wasn’t a fan of him as the comic relief character of Toad in the Mario movie. When Bumblebee showed up I got a little nervous, but I really loved his performance of the character.

I really liked the midpoint pep talk about hope. That’s a really nice reason that Optimus is the leader despite not being as skilled as other people. He has the hope for a better future and it was a core part of his character from the beginning, and I really like the idea that a leader is someone who can envision a brighter future no matter what.

Alpha Trion transforming was SICK AS FUCK!!! I love that he was more animalistic when the rest of the cast become vehicles. His final fight was so cool, and it actually made me kind of emotional to see him at the end with the rest of the Prime ghosts.

The stabbings? The beheadings?? The branding??? The way Megatron tore Sentinel in half and then ripped his heart out on-screen holy shit???? This movie was incredibly brutal and I loved it. It’s such an interesting phenomenon that children’s media is allowed to be about as graphic as they want as long as it’s against robots, even incredibly sentient ones like in the Transformers series.

○ I watched the 1986 Transformers movie for a class earlier this year, and while it also had a lot of brutality in it’s fights, the new movie felt more intense. Part of this could be attributed to me watching the 2024 movie on a big screen vs the 1986 movie in my living room, but there are other reasons as well. The 1986 movie had more upbeat songs playing over the fights, specifically songs like The Touch and Dare, which helped keep the tone lighter and more exciting. The 2024 movie didn’t have anything like that, allowing the action, while still cool and exciting, to take on a more serious tone. This is also emphasized by the graphics of the movie being 3D instead of 2D. While the 2D 1986 movie is a stunning masterpiece, people still view it with the idea in mind that, since it’s a cartoon, the stakes and story will be less intense. The 2024 movie being 3D with very detailed graphics and lighting already has more visual intensity. The characters are still these bright, poppy colors, but they can come across more moody and dark due to the environments, lighting, and textures that the 3D medium more easily allows. And while the painted backgrounds and cell shading of the old movie are great, the CGI backgrounds are a lot closer to realism, so the harsher elements like metal and rock, which make up a vast majority of the environment and characters, look real too.

The way Megatron’s hate consumed him to the point where he started acting more villainous and, while not entirely similar to Sentinel, still ended up hurting innocent people was tragic. Trying to push away and deny everything about a person only to wind up being just like them. This was perfectly shown in the end credit scene where Megatron is branding himself and the new Decepticons with Megatronus Prime’s face. To him, it may be him reclaiming the traumatic experience and literally using it like a badge of honor, as well as thinking he’s honoring Megatronus Prime. But in reality, he’s just inflicting the same trauma done to him onto others, just like Sentinel. Such a cool way to show how every villain is the hero of their own story.

The doomed yaoiiiiii I’m never gonna get over them. The only other Transformers media I’ve consumed is the 1986 movie, which kills off Optimus Prime in the first 25 minutes and Megatron becomes Galvatron, so I never knew the depths of their homoerotic relationship.

I’m a sucker for “the hero and villain used the be friends (and maybe even lovers?)” trope, so Optimus and Megatron’s relationship and the general premise of the movie was already a slam dunk for me.

I’m also a fan of legacy stories like Avatar and She-Ra. While this movie didn’t get as in-depth with the concept, I enjoyed that they played with the idea of legacy and taking up the mantle of the former Primes.

I absolutely loved the end message that Optimus gives us. Hope, freedom, and autonomy are incredibly important things to learn, and as a trans person who very much wants to keep control over what I do with my body, I really resonated with that last one. I think it’s really cool that they included a message like that in this children’s movie about robots that turn into cars.

Regarding the message of autonomy, I love that it gives the term Autobots a new meaning. Auto meaning “automobile”, since they transform into cars, and Auto meaning “self”, as they are now fully their own bots with control over themselves.

Cons/Things I Disliked

Mid vocal performances from everyone except Brian Tyree Henry and Keegan-Michael Key. And as I mentioned before, it was hard not to focus on Chris’ attempts at an American accent, not to mention how recognizable his, as well as Scarlett Johansson’s, voices are.

The plot felt a little disjointed in the first 1/3-ish.

○ Good setup with the main characters being an oppressed working class with one dreaming of better things and the other hesitant to fall out of line or take risks. But then suddenly there’s a race, and then they’re in it, and then they lose, and then their leader wants to promote them. At first it feels like there are hints that he’s a scummy celebrity-type and that meeting their hero is what will spur on the disillusionment with their society. But then some random douchebag that doesn’t like them reassigns them which goes against their leader’s command, and that’s how the plot kicks off? ○ Also, Elita’s involvement felt kind of rushed/hand-waved. They all get stuck on the surface, but instead of trying to make her way back to report them like she was saying she would for the past few minutes, she makes a complete 180 and heads the expedition herself. ○ It all just felt a little strange, but once it got going the rest of the plot felt fine.

Megatron’s descent into “evil” felt kind of rushed. I understand that he feels betrayed and I really love where the character ends up by the end, but it felt like a real 180 without a lot of build up.

Some jokes fell flat or felt annoying and kinda cringe. That’s the territory of children’s movies though, so par for the course.

TLDR

Overall, this movie was a really fun watch and I’d love to go see it again. While some parts fall a little flat, the movie is lifted from mediocrity by its many Pros. From the stunning visuals, to the quick humor, to the tragic origins of two friends driven apart by their ideals, I’d recommend this movie to anyone interested in animation or the Transformers brand.

8.82/10

[zafiro-anyejo]

Very glad I didn’t watch Mr. Robot in school because I would have probably gone crazy and been way more anti-society than I am right now. Like I would’ve probably joined a hacker group or lived off grid lol. 

[llycaons]

the stuff I see for hobie brown is fun but I always feel like having an anarchist/anticapitalist character in a big blockbuster movie that's raking in profit is a bit disingenuous so I probably wouldn't enjoy his character

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 25

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 24 | Series Masterlist | Part 26

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.2k

Chapter Summary: You want to feel normal after your ordeal, but change won't happen overnight.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of violence, crying, assault aftermath, inner turmoil, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight, and thank you for sticking with me! Can you believe it has been almost here since we started?! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby and @mumbles411 , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You woke up earlier than you expected, but made no move to get out of bed. Your body felt stiff when you tried to sit up, which was to be expected since Clark threw you to the ground pretty hard. Being prepared for it didn’t stop you from tearing up. You blinked the tears away when you realized Bucky wasn’t in the room.

You barely said a word after you left the club, and you didn’t protest when he held you close in the car. It was like he needed you in his arms to chase away his remaining demons, and you needed comfort as well. But once you were back at the penthouse, he led you to the guest room instead of the master bedroom. He let you be while you robotically went through your nighttime routine. And he didn’t make a move when he got in bed beside you.

“I just want to make sure you get some sleep,” he told you, his hold tender instead of smothering.

Before you sleep took hold, you heard him whisper that he loved you.

Had he snuck out during the night, or did he get up not too long ago?

Grabbing your phone from the nightstand that Bucky graciously plugged in, you were glad you were alone. You didn’t want Bucky or any of his men hovering while you called Mrs. Crandle. It was bad enough you were calling in when you just wanted the sense of normalcy and control in your life, but what were the chances you’d make it through the day without breaking down?

You held your breath when you dialed and waited for Mrs. Crandle to answer. It didn’t take long. “Hello, dear.”

“Hi, Mrs. Crandle,” you tried to smile, but there were already tears in your throat. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

“You are never a bother,” she promised, which only made you feel worse. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

“I…” What were you going to tell her? “I’m dealing with something very personal right now, and I don’t… I don’t think I can work today. I’m so sorry.”

It wasn’t a lie. You were dealing with something personal. It didn’t stop you from feeling like you were letting her down.

“Oh. Oh, dear. You take the day off, and don’t worry about finding someone to cover for you. I’ll take care of that,” she assured you, knowing you weren’t the type to make excuses to skip a shift.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, that’s your business, but is there anything I can do to help?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. She was so kind, always looking out for her staff. “Just… keep being the wonderful boss and person you are.”

“Oh, I will. And you tell that man of yours he’d better be helping one of my favorite employees with whatever’s going on,” she said.

A laugh almost came out. If she only knew. “I’ll tell him,” you said, sitting up straighter when you remembered something. You were concentrating so much on ther other things last night you had forgotten that Zemo met up with her. How could you forget about that? “Before I hang up, I wanted to ask. Did you win an all expenses paid trip to a flower expo?”

“Why yes, I did! Can you believe it? The man I spoke to actually contacted me this morning to make sure I was still going.” You gripped the phone tighter. Zemo had promised to back off, so why continue the charade of the expo? Unless it was legitimate, and letting Mrs. Crandle go was part of the olive branch to you. “I was going to ask if you possibly wanted to go, but if you’re dealing with something-”

“Then it’s probably best that you bring someone else,” you finished for her. “I understand.”

“It would be nice if you could go. I think you’d like Gotham,” she said, making your heart drop. Gotham, where Clark wanted to take you. “But we can discuss that later. You take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will, thanks.”

You put your face in your hands once you hung up. It was all supposed to be over. You hoped it was. Mrs. Crandle deserved only good things, along with everyone you cared about.

You went quickly through your morning routine, and heard chatter once you finally went into the hall. You stood still, torn between eavesdropping and heading to the kitchen for breakfast. Your curiosity got the better of you and you tiptoed down the hall toward an open door- Bucky’s office.

You stopped when you heard Curtis speak.

“You really think she’ll go for that?”

Go for what?

“You’ve already been keeping an eye on my girl from a distance, but she needs a bit more. She needs a real bodyguard,” Bucky replied, your eyes wide. A bodyguard? How the hell would you explain that to your friends? “Last night proves it,” he added with a bite to his voice.

“Why not Ray? From what I’ve seen, she trusts him,” Curtis said, which was true to an extent.

“I could have Ray be her bodyguard, but then I’d need you to be by my side and we know you don’t like being at the club,” Bucky pointed out. “You barely tolerated being there last night.”

Why did guilt fill you? Was it because Curtis put himself in an uncomfortable situation because of you? If you hadn’t been attacked, he would’ve stayed hidden in the shadows.

“She may be grateful that he helped her, boss, but do you think she’ll want him as her bodyguard?” Ray asked. “Or that she’ll want a bodyguard at all?”

“If not Curtis, who else? It’s the best choice,” Bucky replied, which was met with silence. The men must’ve known not to argue further. “And whether she wants one or not, it comes with the territory.”

You exhaled through your nose. Comes with the territory whether you wanted it or not? It was too early for that shit.

“You know, for starters, it would really help if you all asked me,” you said, making your presence known as you walked in. Bucky stood up, alarm in his eyes, while Ray and Curtis looked at you with unreadable expressions from their chairs. “But I guess we’re right back where we started where what I want doesn’t matter.”

Was Bucky going to make you live the rest of your life like that? Would he dictate whatever he wanted while trying to paint it as doing the best thing for you? How could he call that love?

For a moment you thought Bucky looked upset because you were eavesdropping, but he rushed around his desk to you and you knew that wasn’t the case. “Kotyonok, you should be resting.”

“Did you not hear a word I just said?” you asked, stiffening only for a moment when he got closer and reached for you.

You inhaled and exhaled slowly. Bucky wasn’t Clark. He wouldn’t throw you to the floor. He wouldn’t try to choke you.

“I did, and we will talk about that. I’m just glad to see you still have your spirit,” he smiled softly, slowly framing your face with his hands. Your spirit was both itching for a fight and begging for rest. “How are you feeling?”

“Stiff,” you admitted. A bath in that wonderful soaker tub of his would hit the spot, which you would take advantage of later. “But I don’t need any painkillers before you ask.”

He frowned and dropped his hands. “Lay down,” he urged, nodding toward the sofa a few feet from his desk. “It’s very comfortable, trust me.”

You huffed, but went to lay down as instructed. It was only because you were stiff and still tired. Before you could spread out on the sofa, Bucky took a seat on one end and patted his thigh. “What are you doing?” you asked.

“Rest your head here,” he urged, patting his thigh again.

You snuck a glance at Curtis who looked like he was fighting a smile. Ray hung his head a little. “You want me to lay with my head in your lap in front of them?” you asked.

“They're going to see us for the rest of our lives,” Bucky said, tossing an arm on the back of the sofa. “Please, lay down.”

You blinked, remembering the night he broke in and sat waiting on your sofa like he owned the place. The darkness in his eyes, the smirk on his face. But now? He only looked like a concerned boyfriend.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, getting as comfortable as you could while resting your head in Bucky’s lap. You opted to curl up facing away from him so you weren't staring directly at his crotch.

Bucky caressed your arm, his touch featherlight. “Is this okay?” he asked.

You tilted your head back. He was asking if it was okay to touch you? “It's fine,” you replied.

You caught the soft smile he gave you before you faced forward again. It was strange how people called you Bucky’s queen when you didn't feel like one. What kind of queen curled up with a king in front of their council? Didn't queens stand tall and proud?

“You're thinking too loud,” Bucky whispered.

How did he know? “I think Zemo contacted Mrs. Crandle,” you said.

“He did,” Bucky confirmed, continuing to caress your arm when you tensed up. “You didn’t think I forgot about her, did you? I’ve had someone keeping an eye on her since Zemo met her up with her.”

You remembered. No one knew Zemo’s angle at the time. “But I didn’t…” You sniffled and felt Bucky’s muscles tense beneath your head. “I didn’t even ask about her last night.”

You asked about Lois and your friends, but not your boss.

“You were attacked and you’ve been dealing with so much. Last night was about getting answers for you and the fact that you went to the club after what you went through is nothing short of amazing,” Bucky said, refusing to let you blame yourself for any of it or let you argue. “Mrs. Crandle will be fine. Nothing's going to happen to her. Zemo just couldn't back out of the expo because it would've hurt or upset her, which would have upset you.”

“And he wants to stay on my good side after last night,” you guessed. So it was an olive branch of sorts. “It’s taking place in Gotham.”

That couldn't be a coincidence.

“Another possible way to get you out of the city, but there was no way to guarantee Mrs. Crandle would've asked for you to go with her,” Ray spoke up. “Not to mention Zemo would've had to handle her if you were missing, which could get messy.”

You shivered and Bucky suddenly had a blanket over you. It would've destroyed her if you went missing while on a trip with her, and your heart could hardly bear the thought of Zemo hurting her or getting rid of her. “So, she’ll be okay?” you asked.

“She’ll be just fine,” Bucky promised.

Your fingers curled in the blanket. “I’m trusting you, Bucky,” you whispered, hoping it was a promise he could keep.

His hand froze and you could sense the emotion in his eyes without looking at him. “Thank you.”

“Curtis?” you asked, his blue eyes meeting yours to acknowledge you. “I know you suggested Ray and I appreciate that, but would you like to be my bodyguard?”

Having a bodyguard was another step in the path of accepting your place in Bucky’s life. But if there were other enemies out there or anyone simply interested in using you as a means to get some of Bucky’s fortune, it was better to have protection. At least for now.

“I already-” Bucky began.

“I’m asking him and giving him a choice,” you cut him off. Yes, Bucky had his mind made up that Curtis would be your bodyguard, but you still wanted to ask. “I think I’ve earned that privilege.”

“Who am I to argue with my queen?” Bucky teased.

Curtis chuckled and you found yourself smiling a little. Even Ray looked like he wanted to smile. “Since you’re asking, the answer is yes.”

“Thank you, Curtis,” you said, closing your eyes. “Can we sort the details out later?”

“Of course,” Bucky replied. You had a feeling he would be the one handling that anyway. “You just need to relax.”

You were trying, but he was making you relax with him. “I need things from my apartment, like my bridesmaid dress,” you said.

“We’ll handle whatever you need so you don’t have to go back there,” Bucky assured you.

You bit the inside of your cheek. It was still him or his men going through your things, your memories. “I need other things. Stuff to bake the brownies, and things to make arrangements here.”

“Again, whatever you need,” he smiled. He’d probably make you a greenhouse on the roof if you asked.

“And I need to get in touch with Natasha so I can-”

“That doesn’t sound much like relaxing,” Bucky gently said. You huffed in response. Sitting around doing nothing wouldn’t do you any good, even if your body was screaming at you not to push it. “But I am arranging our movie and pizza night tonight, so that should help you relax a bit.”

You did agree to that the night before. “I think I want to go to the library,” you said. It was the one place Bucky said he wouldn’t enter without permission and none of his men were allowed in there.

You held your breath and waited for the argument, for Bucky to tell you to stay put. Instead, he carefully helped you sit up. “I’ll take you there and I’ll bring you something to eat, okay? You haven’t had anything yet, have you?”

“No, I haven’t,” you admitted. You called Mrs. Crandle first thing and went to find him.

“Well, let’s change that,” Bucky smiled, helping you to your feet. Ray and Curtis began to stand before their boss motioned for them to sit back down. “I’ll be back shortly,” he said, guiding you out and closing the door behind him.

You glanced back and remembered he had the door open while he spoke with Ray and Curtis. Had he done that as a way to build your trust, to show that he wouldn’t hide things from you? Was he going to make an effort?

Bucky stopped at the library door and kissed your forehead. “I’ll grab your phone for you, too, okay?”

“Okay,” you said, stopping when you took two steps in. “Did you stay with me all night?”

He nodded when you looked back at him. Had he held you? Kissed your forehead? Whispered to you to make any bad dream go away? “I wanted to make sure you slept peacefully, although…”

“You wish I’d sleep in our bedroom.”

His eyes lit up at the realization that you didn’t say his bedroom. “In time,” he whispered, walking away without another word.

You exhaled and went to select a book. Your fingers moved along the spines, recognizing some classics as well as modern titles. But you didn’t pick one, your eyes unfocused.

Curtis was going to be your bodyguard. Your life changed so much that you’d need someone watching you at all times. Would he hang around the shop while you worked? Would he linger nearby when you went out with your friends?

Could you even invite the girls to the penthouse?

You stood at the bookshelf long enough for Bucky to come back and clear his throat from the doorway. “Do you want me to bring the tray in?” he asked, holding it up for you to see. Not only did he have plenty of food, a drink, and your phone, he also had a bright flower in a small vase. It was sweet.

Shaking your head, you went to him. “I can take it,” you said, not wanting anyone in your sanctuary at the moment.

If Bucky was hurt by declining his offer he hid it well. It meant a lot that he kept his word and didn’t go in. That was progress. “You’re not okay, are you?” he asked, your eyes connecting.

You gripped the tray hard when you took it. “I’m just taking it one moment at a time,” you answered. It was all you could do. “Could you please shut the door?”

Bucky didn’t hide the hurt this time. It wasn’t just shutting the door, you were shutting him out. “Sure,” he whispered, the door softly clicking shut when you turned your back to him.

As you sat and ate, you let a few tears fall before you finally selected a book. You were unsure of the next steps, and you mourned, but you weren’t sure exactly what it is you were mourning. A piece of your innocence? A normal future?

Bucky, for his effort, gave you space when you refused to come out after breakfast, leaving your tray outside of the door and refusing to say a word to him. He brought you lunch as well, one of your favorites, and left you another flower and a small sheet of paper that read, “I love you, Kotyonok.” You thought about crumbling up the note, but you put it on the table with the flowers.

Every now and then you’d look around and swear that Clark was there watching you in the shadows. It was your mind playing tricks on you, of course, but you kept your eyes on the door in case someone tried to come in. You swallowed bitterly, hating how afraid you were. How would you conquer that?

The girls in the group chat all mentioned taking it easy today, which brought tears to your eyes all over again. They were taking it easy because they were exhausted, and they were exhausted because they were drugged. All of that because of you. It was your fault. It was all your fault.

No… it was not your fault. None of this was your fault. “It’s not my fault,” you whispered tearfully, gripping your head to quiet the taunting voice that blamed you. “It’s their fault.”

Everything in your mind swirled until it became a tornado, destroying everything in its path. It felt harder to breathe, like something was closing around your lungs. You had to calm down before you spiraled. You needed…

“Bucky!” you shouted.

You barely made it to the door when you heard footsteps race down the hall. The door flew open and Bucky stood with wild eyes, struggling to rush in and pull you toward him since you hadn’t told him to come in. “Kotyonok, what-”

“Tell me you won’t hurt my friends,” you demanded, a sob coming out when you pointed at him. You had to hear him say it. “Tell me.”

Bucky flinched when you gasped for your next breath. “I won’t hurt your friends.”

“Tell me it isn’t my fault,” you continued, shoving him back. You could hear Ray and Curtis in the hall, but you paid no attention to them. “Tell me what happened isn’t my fault.”

“None of this is your fault, do you hear me?” he said through his teeth, his anger directed elsewhere and not at you. “None of it.”

The spiral in your mind began to slow. “Tell me you won’t hurt me,” you barely whispered. “If you really love me you won’t hurt me.”

He made a wounded sound like you saying the words hurt him. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised.

Your shoulders slumped. You believed him, damn it. Why? “I’m sorry. I…”

Bucky waved a hand for Ray and Curtis to stay back before he extended it to you. “Come with me.”

You hesitated before you wiped your eyes and took it. You didn’t realize he pulled you toward the living room when the scent of freshly baked pizza and popped popcorn reached your nostrils. “What…”

Bucky had pizza, popcorn, snacks, and drinks set up along with blankets. “Our movie night,” he reminded you, guiding you to sit down. Had you been in the library so long that it was nighttime? “But before we do anything else, I need you to breathe.”

“Hurts,” you whispered. It hurt to think, hurt to feel, hurt to breathe. Why did it feel so hard today?

“I know it hurts, but you’ll get through the hurt because that’s how incredible you are,” he whispered back, pulling you into his arms to rock you. He breathed slowly, urging you to follow his rhythm. “There you go. Breathe. Good girl.”

You took another deep breath, ignoring how the praise relaxed you. “I didn’t bake today,” you said sadly. You wanted to make those brownies for Curtis. “I didn’t make any arrangements.”

You didn’t contact Natasha to set up those self-defense lessons. You didn’t figure out when you’d visit Lois. God, you didn’t even take that bath. Wallowing in self-pity led you to hiding in the library all day, but maybe you needed it more than you knew.

“It’s okay that you didn’t,” Bucky said, kissing your temple and wiping more tears away. “I know you want to bounce back immediately, but you have to give yourself grace.”

He was right about that. “I shut you out,” you said. You shut him out in his own home. Why? To punish him for his part in all of this? To be in control?

He sighed and only held you closer. “I deserved it,” he whispered, rubbing your back. “But we’ll be okay.”

He said it like he was fighting for you, for each other. “I just want to feel normal,” you said, giving him some insight into your thoughts and feelings.

“And you will. We’ll take it one moment at a time.”

A few minutes passed while he held you, and you eventually put your head on his shoulder. He held you so much in the last few days. You wanted to feel strong and not feel afraid anymore. You wished that could happen overnight, but you needed patience and grace.

And Bucky, well, he would need to accept his hand in this. He had to see you at a low point so that he’d never want you there again. He had to see you broken so you could build yourself again, with or without his help. Because if he wouldn't love and accept you at your lowest, then he didn't deserve you at all.

“So, what are we watching?” you finally asked.

“You said you wanted to pick the movie,” he reminded you.

He listened. He remembered. “Something funny,” you said. Something that wouldn’t upset you or make you think.

“Comedy it is.”

Bucky waited on you hand and foot during the movie, making sure you were comfortable while you ate. He had an arm around you when you weren’t eating, but didn’t let his touch wander. It took a bit, but you eventually laughed during the silly moments in the film, and he gazed at you like the sun rose in front of his very eyes.

You stole a glance after a few more minutes and found him staring at you instead of the screen. Unable to help yourself, you tossed a bit of popcorn at him. He blinked twice in shock while you tried not to laugh. “Did you just…”

“Toss popcorn at you? Yes,” you said, looking back at the screen before popcorn hit your cheek. “Hey!”

He licked the salt and butter from his fingers. “Oops,” he teased. “C’mon, Kotyonok. I had to defend myself.”

One second you were staring at each other and the next second turned into a full blown battle. Popcorn and candy went everywhere as you threw everything within reach and you found yourself laughing when a piece of candy landed in his open mouth. He growled and gently tossed snacks back at you, making you laugh harder.

It was ridiculous. Silly. Unexpected. It felt like… a real date.

“I’m not cleaning this up,” you giggled once the battle ended, gesturing to the mess. At least you didn’t spill any of the drinks. “And I think I won.”

“I have people for that, and we’ll call it a tie,” he smiled, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “Fuck, you have a beautiful smile.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He wanted to kiss you, you could feel it, but he didn’t lean in. He waited for you instead. You didn’t kiss his lips, you were still too raw for that today, but you did kiss his cheek before you put your head back on his shoulder.

“Thanks for this,” you whispered. It was only the first day since the incident, but he was trying and you had to give him that.

“Thank you,” he whispered back, leaning his head on yours. “I’ve got you.”

“I know.”

And resting in his arms like an actual date, you were blissfully unaware of the missed calls and texts from your mom.

Our poor girl. Let's hope Bucky keeps trying. And let's hope Mom's messages aren't a bad thing. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

Good fucking day, Robot enjoyers! Gaze upon the updated semi-accurate height comparison of Bumblebee across the multiverse.

This is an updated version of a chart I made a few months ago. I had gotten some feedback and then TFOne came out and I kinda had to update it. I also added a Gen 1 Optimus Prime for scale, for fun... no other reason... (edit: slight adjustment made, just corrected a slight mistake in the order)

I am also working on at least two more character charts and one universe chart, so hopefully I can finish those soon (for some fucking genius reason I decided to do the characters that show up EVERY FUCKING UNIVERSE so I'm s u f f e r i n g)

*PST! Optimus, Megatron, Shockwave, Soundwave, Ratchet, and Ironhide ones are done now*

Master Post

Listed Heights, Explanations, and Justifications below the cut, bc you couldn't shut me up if you tried and I had shit to say.

Gen 1 - ~10 feet (TFwiki says greater than 3 meters so I rounded up to the first whole number because round)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~10 feet (He looks identical to Gen 1 so... the reason his photo looks weird is because I couldn't find a good full body photo with him standing straight up facing the camera so I put two images together to make the worst looking photoshop job you have ever seen)

Earth Spark - ~10 feet (There is no confirmed height yet, but using this screen shot (see below) of him standing in front of a barn door, I was able to make a reasonable guess, bc I'm so smart.)

One V1 - ~13 feet (I am well aware of what the TFWiki says: 26.429 feet. And I fully reject that number. A: These numbers are sourced from the Walmart Promotional AR Experience that came out before the movie. B: There are three decimal points, and that number does not convert into a whole number in meters (which is originally what I thought was weird about it). C: The director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon, and Bumblebee in both sets of LA movies does not exceed 20 feet tall. Ever. So, for sanity's sake, I have used the KCV numbers as my baseline. Bee grows when he gets his t-cog so shrink this one down a few feet. Look, I'm working on the Optimus chart rn, and one of the numbers from Beast Wars on the wiki was very observably wrong, and if I can dispute numbers older than me, I can dispute numbers 2 decades younger than me from fucking Walmart. Also, yes, his picture is 3 images sandwiched together)

Animated - 13 feet 3 Inches (There is no actual given heights, but in the comments of the previous version, @phoenix-inanis told me that they had done their own analysis of TFA heights and, gonna be real with you, I am blown away by all of their work and how detailed it is. Go marvel at how much work they put in -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4 )

One V2 - ~15 Feet (Please see reasoning above. Since this is as tall as we see Bee get, he's the same height as KCV Bee. Sweet fuck, I have put way too much effort into this shit)

Knight/Capel-Verse - 15 feet (No actual numbers, but Mirage is stated to be 15 feet tall (TFWiki), and he and Bee are like the same height, so... Capel directed the ROTB movie if you're wondering why his name is there)

Bayverse V1 - 16 feet (TFWiki. This is like the first 3 movies minimum, I don't remember when he hits his growth spurt. Also mr bay is king, we have numbers for nearly every character in BV)

Cyberverse - 18 feet (I'm gonna be honest, the only info we have is from a really shitty screen shot of a magazine. SO if any one has a copy of this book from the video below, a high quality scan would be greatly appreciated and I will kiss the ground you walk upon. Yes I found the video where the screen shot comes from leave me alone)

Bayverse V2 - 18 feet (TFWiki. Movie 4-5 I can't remember which one, I'm not re-looking this up. I fucking love the bayverse tho, this is the only universe with concrete and consistent this-character-is-this-height info)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC - 20 feet (TFWiki/Fandom. Video game info screens you godsend, kiss me sweetly)

Aligned Cont. TFP/RID15 - 21 feet (These two designs are canonically identical, like in ALC canon, Bee has not changed visually at all...Ok, yes I got this number from fandom and they give literally no source for where they got these numbers. But, I can fully believe these are accurate. Just by looking at these characters on the show I can verify these numbers in my mind. Here, let's Compare.

This is Sam compared to Bee from one of the BV movies, I'm too lazy to check which one. Sam is average size for a human and we know Bee is 16 feet tall in the first three movies. Checks out. Let's now look at a TFP Character who is also 16 feet tall.

Jack is average size for a human, and the size difference is about the same. Can you see why I can't question the Aligned heights, even if they don't have a source??!?! They specifically made this universe to be full of freakishly tall robots for some fucking reason.)

Not Pictured: Aligned Cont. Rescue Bots and Rescue Bots Academy Bumblebee - 21 Feet tall. Look, did you want to see all 5 versions of ALC Bee? No, you don't. They're all the same height anyway; the back row would have just been a wall of redundant yellow. 5 different fucking art styles in one universe, why is that one my favourite.

Here's the front row and the back row separated into their own jpgs. I know it's kind of hard to tell which Bumblebee is which when they're all together.

[hellothereobiwankenobi]

yellow ribbon on the door | chapter two

⟢ summary: Tommy convinces Joel to cover for him, and complete the repairs at your flower shop.

⟢ pairing: joel miller x afab!reader (femme but not descriptive as to actual features)

⟢ tags: no outbreak au, flower shop au, idiots in love, small age gap, joel is 35 and reader is 29 about to be 30, reader is a war widow, operation desert storm mentioned, reader is a single mother to ellie, eventual smut, no beta reader we die like men

⟢ wc: 3.2K

⟢ authors notes: Well, let me start by saying thank you for everyone who read chapter one! And an extra thank you to everyone who left such kind comments. I am so appreciative to everyone who has interacted with this story so far.

ꕥ previous │ navigation ꕥ

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The following Monday morning, Joel carries tools back and forth from the garage into the bed of his work truck. He loves this part of his morning routine. It was still early enough that most of his neighbors were in their homes getting ready for work and late enough that all the school-aged children on his street had already been picked up by big yellow buses. It was quiet enough for Joel to get some peace, sip his coffee, organize his tools how he liked, and hear the morning birds sing overhead.

Joel had a busy day ahead of him. He needed to pick up the drywall order for tomorrow's job, place a new order for the correct sized plumbing hardware for a client's kitchen remodel (he knew he shouldn't have trusted Tommy with taking the measurements), and he hoped to stop by elderly Mrs. Williams' home to make sure the handrails he installed in her shower last week were to her liking. He also had an important meeting with a real estate development firm about framing the main entryway of a new apartment complex being built in the city. Landing this job could open more doors for his and Tommy’s business, and it offers a sizable payout.

He grabs his colt coffee mug from the edge of the tailgate before finishing it off. As Joel closes the tailgate, the cell phone clipped to his belt rings. He removes it from his belt and hits the green answer button without checking the caller ID "Miller Brothers Contracting."

"Joel, it's me." Tommy's voice comes through the speaker pressed to his ear "I screwed up, man."

What is it now? Joel thinks. This is far from the first time he has heard his younger brother speak those words over the phone. But this type of call usually comes in the middle of the night and is preceded by a robotic voice stating, "This is a collect call from the Travis County Jail—Central Booking. Do you accept the charges?"

There is no way Tommy has already gotten himself arrested. It's not even eight in the morning.

Joel prepares for the worst. "What now?" 

Tommy explains that he double-booked himself today. He promised to come by your store this morning, but after checking his schedule, he realized he couldn’t make it across town in time for his next client—not in Austin traffic, at least.

"I need you to go and help her out," Tommy adds desperately. "I'll owe you one."

"Already do," Joel reminds him. 

Maybe it was his fault. Joel always felt that, as the older brother, it was his responsibility to bail Tommy out of his messes. Joel couldn't count how many times during Tommy's high school years he had picked him up in the wee hours of the morning because he was too drunk to drive home and too afraid to call their parents. Or the time Tommy ran his mouth off to a couple of good ol' boys at a local dive bar, and Joel had to join in when the fists started flying. Or when Tommy threw a party while their parents were in Mexico visiting family, and one of his friends punched a hole right through the bathroom door because it "wouldn't open." Joel had spent the little money he had on the supplies needed for a patch job good enough that their father wouldn't notice.

"Joel, please. I'm beggin' here." Tommy pleads.

Joel drags his large hand down his face and sighs, "Fine."

"You're a lifesaver. I'll buy us a round tonight as thanks." Tommy rushes out the address of your shop, and the line goes dead as he quickly disconnects the call.

· · · ──────── ⋆˚ ✿ ❀ ✿ ˚⋆ ─────── · · ·

Joel sits in the driver's seat of his truck, eyes closed, both hands white-knuckling on the steering wheel, parked outside of your store: Iris-istible. Tommy hadn't mentioned you were a florist.

Joel takes a deep inhale and tries to give himself a quick pep talk. Just go in, tighten a bolt or two, and get out, he tells himself.

Joel gathers the strength to climb out of the cab and grab his navy blue toolbag from the truck bed. As he enters through the shop's front door, a small bell chimes and announces his presence. Three long, natural wood tables take up most of the floor space of the small storefront. The walls are exposed brick in alternating shades of deep burgundy and mahogany brown outlined in grey grout. Wooden shelves displaying premade arrangements, and various house plants in mismatched containers line the store's perimeter. A complex crystal chandelier hangs overhead, illuminating the cozy store front.

Joel looks to his left, and there you are, standing behind a waist-high butcher block counter stacked high with books on the language of flowers and beginner's guides to starting a garden. A goldenrod watering can and an old-fashioned register frame either side of the counter. 

Your back is turned toward the door while you fiddle with the soil of a potted orchid. You're wearing a pair of denim overalls over a short-sleeve white t-shirt. The straps of a sunshine yellow apron wrap over your shoulders and tie neatly in a bow around your waist at the center of your back. 

Your whole body whips around to face the entryway when you hear the bell's chime ringing out through the small shop. You are positively beaming, smiling ear-to-ear.

"Tommy, I thought you'd nev—" Your words die in your throat, and your smile melts away as you make eye contact with the older Miller brother.

"Sorry to disappoint," Joel grumbles, averting his eyes from you. There is an uncomfortable heat running up the back of his neck. Joel wouldn't describe himself as a proud man, but your ever-present fondness for his brother is on full display this morning, making him regret his decision to come.

You stand unblinking, still holding the potted orchid between your perfectly manicured fingers. French tips. Or at least that's what he thinks Sarah calls them.

"No," you come back to your senses and forcefully shake your head. A smile, while much smaller than the previous one, pulls back on your lips. "Not at all. Just surprised."

Joel could be just imagining it, but what looks like a rosy blush blossoms on the apples of your cheeks. From embarrassment or something else, he isn't sure.

Joel's feet remain planted just inside the entrance. He doesn't dare take another step into the store. Maybe it's not too late to leave.

"Let me show you where the walk-in is." You place the orchid on the counter and wipe away any remaining potting soil from your fingers onto your apron.

You step out from behind the counter and wave a hand for Joel to follow. You hold open the black, swinging door labeled "Employees Only" that leads to the store's backroom.

The back room was larger than Joel would have expected—maybe about half the size of the main storefront. Bags of potting soil and mulch are stacked against the wall next to a shelf of extra terracotta pots and crystal vases. A tall, light-colored workbench is pushed against the opposite wall. It is littered with discarded bruised petals and the clipped ends of flower stems.

On the back wall, there is a large silver door with a sizable latching handle. You place both hands on the handle and give it a couple of good tugs until it clicks open. You look over your shoulder with an embarrassed smile as you pull the door open. "Sorry, it sticks sometimes."

You and Joel finally step into the cooler. You had already turned off the A/C unit in anticipation of having it repaired. The walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling shelving, all filled with different varieties of flora. Some flowers Joel could recognize: roses, daisies, daffodils. But most of them he had never seen before. A few even looked like something you'd find while hiking on a tropical vacation.

His eyes moved from the myriad of colored foliage to the ceiling. At the center is a small, two-fan A/C unit. He's not tall enough to reach it by only standing. He sets down his bag on the floor, directly below the unit. "I'll need to graby a ladder."

"Mhm," you nod, "whatever you need. I'll leave it to the expert."

You both exit the walk-in and head back to the front of the store. You return to your original position behind the counter as Joel exits to retrieve what he needs from the truck. 

He re-enters the building carrying the six-foot ladder under his left arm. You're working on an arrangement of pink roses and yellow Asiatic lilies in a stubby vase. You place the flowers absentmindedly in the vase as you watch him walk by. Joel's biceps flex under the ladder's weight, causing them to pull the fabric of his short-sleeved, forest green cotton tee shirt taut around them.

You could always tell Joel was strong. He filled out his clothing in a way that only a man who'd worked physical labor his whole life could: broad shoulders, large biceps, and a strong chest kept hidden under a few layers of thin fabric.

Once Joel has disappeared into the back half of the shop, you let out a ragged breath and refocus on the bouquet in front of you.

You tried to keep busy with orders and reorganizing display shelves, but your mind kept wandering back to the man inside your walk-in cooler. Thankfully, a customer came in to distract you—a well-dressed, clean-shaven young man looking for a gift for his mother's birthday. 

"She loves tulips," he explained. You showed him the premade arrangements on the display tables, but they weren't what he was looking for. 

"Let me check the back and see what I can whip up." you give him a reassuring smile before disappearing behind the storage room door.

You're greeted by the sight of Joel standing halfway up the ladder. His hands are above his head, working on the A/C unit, causing the hem of his shirt to ride up and expose the smallest peak of his lower stomach. A trail of deep brown hair extends from below the waistband of his dark-wash denim jeans and travels up until it disappears under the soft fabric of his shirt. Your eyes begrudgingly tear themselves away from the exposed skin and move up his body. His stomach looks soft in comparison to the solid muscles of his chest and upper arms. Your eyes linger on the sharp angles of his jawline. Finally, your studying gaze reaches strong hands. His thick fingers delicately work over the intricate details of the unit.

He had so much control over the fine movements of his thick digits. He presses a petite silver knob between his thumb and index finger, giving it a gentle twist.

Your mind runs through the endless possibilities of what else he could squeeze between those two fingers.

The feeling of your weighted stare breaks Joel's concentration. He looks down to see you standing below him. He pulls his eyebrows together as you frantically try to collect yourself. You can't see it, but you are sure by the heat burning in your cheeks that your face is completely flushed.

"S-sorry," you manage to stammer out, "just need to grab something." You walk around him to the back of the cooler and grab a few different colors of tulips before rushing out.

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The repair work took longer than Joel expected. One of the pipes responsible for circulating refrigerant into the condenser had corroded. He was able to complete a patch job, but the pipe would need to be entirely replaced for any long-term success. The twin fan blades whirl to life as Joel turns the A/C unit back on, giving his work a final once-over. He wants to ensure everything will hold up until he can get the part needed to finish the job.

When you re-enter the walk-in, Joel is collecting his tools back into his bag.

"How's it going in here?" you ask. You feel cool air brush across your bare forearms and look up at the ceiling unit. 

"You fixed it?" it comes out as a half statement, half question. The same beaming regard from earlier on your face, but it is intended for Joel this time.

Joel felt a mysterious craving deep within him finally being satisfied. He didn't know it previously, but he must have wanted that look, the one you save for his brother, to be meant for him. 

The warmth radiating from your smile was almost too intoxicating. Joel had to distract himself by closing the ladder, or he would have been completely engulfed by it.

"For now." Joel says, making a conscious effort to keep his eyes from returning to you, "I gotta order a part to fix it right."

Joel tucks the ladder under his arm again and moves to return it to the truck. You look down at his tool bag and reach for the handles with one hand. You can barely pick it up off the ground. It is much heavier than you expected. With a soft groan, you lift the bag and keep it secure in front of you with both hands.

Joel looks back at the sound and sees you struggling to hold the bag at waist level. "You ain't gotta—"

"But I want to." is all you say before overtaking him. You trek your way outside the shop with Joel close behind.

You set the tool bag on the curb next to Joel's truck, feeling accomplished about carrying it alone. Joel lifts the ladder over his head and slides it on the chrome rack suspended above the truck bed. He secures it in place with a couple of ratchet straps, then turns to grab the tool bag from the curb. 

With one easy motion, Joel lifts the bag up and over the tailgate, returning it to its original place.

"So, what do I owe you?" you ask with a gentle smile.

Joel looks at you and shakes his head. "Was just doin' a favor for Tommy."

"Come on, I have to pay you somehow." Your smile grows. "There is this really great coffee shop about a block from here. My treat."

Your intention genuinely was to thank him for his help this morning, but a selfish part of you was also trying to find a reason for him to stay just a little bit longer.

"I'll let Tommy know when the part comes in," Joel states flatly. He is already behind schedule. He needs to leave now to make his meeting with the real estate developers.

Joel gives you a nod goodbye before walking around the truck and climbing into the driver's seat. He pulls away from the curb and rejoins Austin city traffic, watching your little yellow apron become smaller and smaller in his rearview mirror.

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Thankfully, the rest of Joel's jobs for the day go smoothly. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the melody playing from his Hank Williams cassette tape. Joel would be lying if he said the drive home from the city, back to the suburbs, wasn't his favorite part of the work day. He could reflect on his day, watch the sunset paint the central Texas horizon orange and pink, and he could listen to his "old man" music without Sarah making any comments at his expense.

He pulls into the small parking lot of The Whiskey Room, his and Tommy's usual watering hole. The drinks are cheap, the music is to his liking, and it is close enough to his house that he and Tommy can walk home after having one too many.

Joel spots Tommy's dark grey pickup, a weathered "OPERATION DESERT STORM COMBAT VETERAN" bumper sticker prominently displayed on the tailgate next to the driver's side taillight.

Tommy is saving a spot next to him at the bar. He puts out his cigarette as Joel pulls out the chair and takes a seat.

"Heard you landed that framin' job in those new apartments for us," Tommy says, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder and squeezing. "Ol' man still knows how to sweet talk a couple suits."

"Whiskey, neat. For my friend here." Tommy calls over to the bartender, "On me."

The bartender, a young woman in her mid-twenties, places a short glass containing two fingers of amber liquid on the bar top before Joel. Tommy gives her a wink as she walks away, flipping her long brown hair over one shoulder. 

Tommy finally removes his hand from his brother's shoulder and returns to his own drink.

"Your girlfriend's A/C needs a new coolant pipe." Joel grabs ahold of the whiskey glass and takes a sip.

"Nah, man." Tommy lets out a soft laugh before bringing his drink to his lips. "It ain't like that. She's just my ol' sergeant's wife."

It takes Joel a moment to put the pieces together. Tommy's old sergeant. The one from his time in Kuwait. The one who moved to Austin after the end of Operation Desert Storm with his wife. The one whose funeral Tommy attended eighteen months ago. 

Shit.

Joel stays silent as the overwhelming impact of his own stupidity washes over him. He can't think of a single thing to say.

Tommy rests his glass on the bar top "Wait, you really thought—"

Laughter erupts from Tommy, drawing the attention of those seated around them. Joel can feel the eyes of the bar's other patrons staring at his back. 

"I've just been helpin' her out since Sarge passed. She's goin' through a lot." Tommy is gripping the bar with one hand and places the other over his chest, trying to catch his breath.

"Pendejo."  Tommy takes his glass in his hand, grinning wide, and shakes his head in disbelief.

Joel's frigid embarrassment begins to grow into heated frustration. He downs his remaining whiskey in one gulp.

"She's always all over you. Gettin' you things, laughin' at your jokes," Joel snaps back at his brother.

"She's a sweet girl." Tommy nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders. "She's the kinda person that likes doin' nice things for other people. It's a mom thing, I reckon."

"Not to me." Joel retorts.

"You don't give her much of a reason to." Tommy takes another drink of his whiskey.

Joel thinks back on the handful of past exchanges the two of you have had. The first time he met you at the Super Bowl party, he spoke maybe two or three words to you. You spent most of the night sitting next to his brother on Joel's brown leather couch, listening captivatingly to Tommy explain the basics of American Football. At the family dinner, he was almost wholly silent towards you. Other than sneaking a few quick glances your way over the kitchen table every time you let an unapologetically sweet laugh escape your full lips. Even today, when you offered to buy him coffee to thank him for the work he had done at your store, he immediately shut you down.

"You really are one dumb bastard, you know that?" For the first time in a long time, Joel found himself agreeing with his younger brother.

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⟢ authors notes: I promised idiots in love, and I gave you idiots in love. Pre/non-outbreak Joel is my absolute favorite things to write currently. He is just such a goober.

I'm pretty insecure about the quality of my writing. I'm powering it though. I used to write fanfiction nearly everyday in my younger years, but as time went on I lost my love for it. But reading the phenomenal works of the authors in this community has reignited my passion.

I'm on spring break this week, so I am trying to write as much as possible until classes start again next Monday. My writing process is a little messy. I write in nonsequential order. As a scenes pops into my head, I scribble it out into a Google Doc the piece them together like a big jigsaw puzzle.

[twist-is-not-sane-lol]

Sprunki as a cartoon episode ideas, season 1(Normal Mode).

somewhat inspired by: @sprunkigender

these are very headcanon centric

e1: Welcome to Sprunki World! - Pilot

e2: Smile for me? - Wenda can't accept how gloomy Gray is and tries to make him smile

e3: Robot in space - Fun-bot accidentally ends up on the ship when Oren goes to visit his family.

e4: Nighty Night - Mr.Sun accidentally sleeps in, causing a panic amongst the Sprunkis

e5: Floppy ear fever - Pinki gets sick, causing Oren to panic

e6: The bunny & the hare - Pinki reunites with her cousin, Jevin

e7: Soundless - Sky loses his voice and is forced to sit out of the song

e8: Hoarding - Simon decides to confront Durple about his hoarding problem

e9: Tunner & the case of the missing bucket - Brud loses his bucket and goes to his big brother for help

e10: Sprunki's A Christmas Carol - A retelling of "A Christmas Carol" with the Sprunkis

e11: Lonely Tree - Mr. Tree feels lonely whenever the Sprunkis leave the park

e12: Replacement - Fun-bot hears about Clukr & Garnold's latest project & thinks he's being replaced

e13: Time to rest - OWAKCX can't sleep

e14: Where's the bear? - Sky loses his favorite teddy bear

e15: A Valentine's disaster - Oren tries to set up the perfect Valentine's date for pinki, but something bad keeps happening

e16: Anger virus - Mr. Fun computer gets a virus that makes him incredibly grumpy and rude

e17: Flower Power - Vineria says she doesn't like superheros, so Simon & Sky show her one she'd love

e18: Alien Blues - Oren's father passes away, leaving him distraught

e19: Show your face - Garnold refuses to take off his visor, making the others wonder why

e20: What's wrong Raddy? - Raddy is even more angry than usual today, and the others try and help

e21: Brothers forever - Tunner hasn't been spending time with Brud, making Brud think he's not wanted anymore

e22: Genius 101 - Clukr feels his smarts aren't appreciated and decides to challenge Garnold to prove he's smarter

e23: Funky family - Fun-bot & Mr.Fun Computer spend the day with their creators.

e24: Black Hat - Black is introduced, and boy does he have some fun things planned.

e25: Garden gnomes - Raddy pranks Vineria by place glass gnomes all over her yard. Every time one is removed, another 3 are added.

e26: Allergies - It's allergy season. Problem is, Durple sneezes fire.

27: Cold as ice - It's winter, & Tunner was outside a bit to long. Now the others have to help there cold-blooded friend warm up and fast.

28: Sprunki bakery - Pinki wants to open a bakery, and her friends help out!

29: It's ok, papa's here. - Fun-bot(Somehow) has a nightmare & Clukr comforts him

30: That's a wrap!: The final

______________________________________________

Season 2 coming soon! (Warning, it's the horror mode-)

[fluentmoviequoter]

Sleeves

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!neighbor!reader

Summary: Deacon's son Sam loves giving you temporary tattoos. When Deacon comes home to find you with a full sleeve of them, he admits he could get used to seeing you like this.

Warnings/Word Count: 1.6k+ words of fluff (in which Deac flirts a lot)

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

You step out of the car and sigh. It’s been a long day; you’re tired, stressed, and want to decompress. Before you move toward your door, someone calls your name.

“Sam!” you reply, smiling brightly as you lower to hug him.

“I brought you something,” he mumbles, reaching into his pockets.

“I wonder what it is,” you muse lightly. “Can you give me a hint?”

“No!” he exclaims with a laugh.

After another round of checking his pockets, he withdraws a small square of white cardstock with a plastic film over it. The temporary tattoos have become an inside joke between you and Samuel Kay. Since you did his dad Deacon a favor several months ago and babysat the boys and Lila while he embarked on a late-night raid, you’ve been the happy recipient of more tattoos than you can count. You’ve borne firetrucks, robots, planets, and animals on your skin. Deacon saw the first one, but you’re not sure if he knows that his son enjoys giving you tattoos nearly as much as he enjoys receiving them himself.

“Sam!” Deacon calls, walking into your yard. “What did I tell you about speaking to ladies?”

“Right,” Sam says, pinching his brows as he stands up straighter. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing well, Mr. Kay, thank you. How are you?”

“Better when I give tattoos,” he answers honestly.

Deacon shakes his head, and you thank Sam for the dog tattoo he gives you.

“How are you, older Mr. Kay?” you ask Deacon.

Sam looks between you and his dad, then returns to his brother and sister. You watch him go, smiling at his joy.

“Better when I see you,” Deacon answers.

“You’re teaching your children to be flirts, you know that, right?”

Deacon shrugs. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“My team was invited to an event the mayor is hosting. It’s tomorrow night and my usual babysitters aren’t available on such short notice.”

“I can absolutely watch the kids for you,” you offer. “As long as I can order them pizza.”

“Pizza!” Matthew shouts.

“They’d love that,” Deacon says, shaking his head. “Thank you. I can pay you or find another way to thank you.”

“Flirt,” you exclaim softly.

“You’ve done a lot for us,” Deacon explains. “Made this transition to single parenting easier. I appreciate it more than you know.”

“You deserve it all and more, Deacon. I’ll see you tomorrow, what time?”

“5?”

“See you at 5,” you promise. “Thanks, Sam!” you call. “Hi, Lila, hey, Matthew!”

They stop playing long enough to wave, and as you walk into your home with the smile only Deacon can bring you, you wonder if Deacon has any idea that you are the lucky one in this arrangement.

“Uncle Luca got it for me,” Sam explains after his dad leaves.

You’d had trouble speaking to Deacon before his teammate Street picked him up. With his form-fitting dark suit on, he’d been more attractive than usual, and your eyes and brain were working overtime.

“Very cool,” you tell Sam, looking at the oversized tattoo booklet with him. “Which one do you want to do first?”

Sam hums as he flips the page, and you stifle a laugh when you realize that he’s acting exactly like Deacon. He reaches a page of tattoos that are all pink and purple. He hesitates, then looks at your arm.

“Can I give you some?” Sam asks.

You shrug before you answer, “Sure. Whatever you want, bud.”

While Deacon regrets leaving you and his kids when he could have stayed home or brought you, you realize that giving Sam permission to do whatever he wants might not have been your best idea.

Deacon’s tie is loosened at his neck when he enters his home. The time with his team was enjoyable, but the night felt long, and he was distracted. By you, even though you were miles away.

“Hello?” Deacon calls softly. “Anyone home?”

“In here!” Lila replies.

Deacon smiles as he follows her voice to the living room. You’re lying on the center cushion of the couch with Sam asleep against your side, Lila lying across your legs, and Matthew fighting to stay awake as he watches an animated movie play on the television screen.

“Thank you,” Deacon whispers.

Half an hour later, he’s carried his children to bed, tucked them in, and wished them goodnight. You’ve straightened up the small mess you made during dinner when he returns to the kitchen. The urge to wrap his arms around your waist and hold you tight startles Deacon, but he realizes quickly that he should’ve seen it coming.

“We had a lot of fun,” you tell Deacon. “Thanks for letting me hang out with my favorite neighbors.”

Deacon smiles, dipping his chin in a way that makes your heart flutter. He pauses, tipping his head to the side as he looks at your arm. Reminiscent of an intrigued puppy, he gently reaches for your arm and lifts it in front of you.

“Nice sleeve,” he muses after a moment.

You laugh at his teasing, unconsciously leaning against him as he traces his fingers beneath a few tattoos, his touch featherlight yet addictive and enlivening.

“I like it,” you whisper, looking into his eyes.

Deacon trails his fingers down your arm, then links his fingers in yours to hold your hand.

“How was the thing with the mayor?” you whisper.

“Something was missing,” Deacon admits, using your joined hands to guide you closer.

“You’re jealous of my sweet tats,” you joke softly. “They would look good with your suit.”

Deacon nods, clearly not listening to you. He lifts his other hand to hold the back of your head before he tilts your head, gentle in his movements as he guides you into the perfect position.

“I could get used to it,” Deacon says.

“It?” you repeat, glancing down at his lips.

“Coming home to you, seeing you with my kids, watching Sam cover you in tattoos.”

“I could get used to it, too,” you whisper.

That’s all Deacon needs to hear, and he closes the distance between you. He holds you gently, lovingly, and reverently. Deacon makes the world around you disappear. In this moment, you know him and him alone. Then, he spreads his palm over your tattooed bicep and traces an already flaking mark that sends shivers down your spine.

Three months after Deacon first kissed you in his darkened kitchen, you find yourself against his side during a movie night. Samuel is drawing on your arm with skin-safe markers and a printed picture, but you’re not allowed to look until he’s finished because he wants to surprise you. Lila’s hair remains in braids after your girls’ lunch earlier today. This feels like home. Like you’re where you’re supposed to be.

“Looks good, Sam,” Deacon says, his chest moving against your back as he speaks.

“Can I look yet?” you request.

Sam caps a marker, then nods and bends your arm so you can see it. The flowers and shapes lining the top and bottom of your forearm are messy in the most perfect way, but it’s the handwritten note that catches your attention. Sam tried hard, and from how slowly he moved the marker along your skin, you know he was copying his dad’s handwriting.

“Thank you, Sam,” you say before you turn to face Deacon. “Yes,” you tell him, smiling brightly as you reach for him.

Deacon smiles, pleased by your answer to Sam’s tattooed ‘Will you be Daddy’s girlfriend?’ tattoo. “Nice sleeve,” he murmurs, pulling you against his chest to kiss you.

“Which one?” Lila asks, holding up two temporary tattoos.

You point to the one on the right: two interlocked rings. Your arm has slowly become covered from your shoulder to your wrist. With less than thirty minutes until you walk down the aisle to marry Deacon, you already know his reaction will be great.

Lila takes your unmarked hand, and you smile as you look down at her. She looks adorable in her dress, and how she looks at you like she loves you and the life you’re creating for her with Deacon makes your heart thump harder in your chest.

“Can I call you Mom now?” she asks.

You fight the tears threatening to build in your eyes, unwilling to disturb your makeup. “If- if you want to, Lila, of course you can.”

“Thanks, Mom,” she says.

She skips toward the small table by your vanity table and takes a mint as if she didn’t just change your entire life with a single word. Luca knocks on your door and smiles at you before he tells you it’s time to take your place at the end of the aisle.

Deacon’s eyes are on you the moment you come into view. His gaze drops to your arm, but then he sees you. His eyes are watery when you reach the altar, and you shake your head as a warning not to cry.

“That’s my favorite sleeve yet,” Deacon tells you before the ceremony begins.

As your reception closes, and only your closest friends and family remain, you hold a sleeping Sam in your arms, and Deacon spins Lila around the dance floor. You're in your new life now, your family. If every moment feels half as perfect as this – temporary tattoo sleeve or you as you are – then you can never ask for anything more.

Bonus:

“So, what are you planning to do with your dress?” Deacon asks.

You look up from your phone, where you’d been scrolling through crafts to preserve your wedding decorations. “One side of my dress is covered with temporary tattoo stains,” you remind him. “I’m going to treasure that forever.”

“We can just give you new tattoos next time you want to ruin an outfit,” Deacon points out. “Or when we get back from the honeymoon, or when-“

“I get it,” you interrupt. “You like the sleeves.”

“Yeah, I do. But I love the girl under them.”

[galaxygermdraws]

So. Remember last time I drew Mr. M. Well he's been like completely redesigned (thank you to my friend Levi who helped me concept him to be like. Unique from most Mr. M's). So some fun facts

Mr. M is violently competitive. Like. Maybe a bit too competitive. I do not think the other henchmen like him very much. Except maybe O' Chunks. I think they'd spar or something. M is a sore loser about it though

He has a giant hammer. Like. Cartoonishly big. He uses this to launch fireballs at Luigi, Peach, and Bowser during his boss fight

Instead of fighting a giant robot in space, Mr. M's second boss phase is Mario Kart but he has the kart, you have a Squirps, and there is a timer. You fail to beat him before he crosses that finish line and you're toast

In this AU, I just assume Luigi attacked Count Bleck instead, so he got knocked out. Mario ends up in Bleck's castle and I mean of course he tries to find Peach (and Bowser) and gets caught

The problem? Mario is insanely stubborn. The solution? Repeatedly expose him to Mind Control until he is so exhausted from it he has to give in (that's the bottom right doodle).

He treats his boss fight like a game, I am playing into the sports games with him. Can ya tell?

In this AU, Dimentio kinda realizes that if he just controls the hero? Then there is no hero of prophecy to stop him. Because while there are 4 heroes, Mario is like the Main One.

Also, timeline wise, I think Mario still ends up being the final survivor during Chapter 8. Dimentio just planted the Floro Sprout after Chapter 6 instead of in Chapter 8.

I will eventually design horrible messed up Super Dimentio but with Mario. It'll have different energy.

(Reblogs with tags/comments are appreciated. Thankyuuuu)

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Chapter 2 – Terms and Conditions

A/N: Here we are, the second chapter. Let me know your thoughts :)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Wife! Reader

Warning: angst, slow burn.

Terms and Conditions

.

The Morning sunlight spilled through the glass walls of the Stark penthouse, arrogant and golden. It didn’t ask if anyone had a hangover or a quiet existential crisis brewing—it just swept in, warming untouched countertops and echoing the silence in the space around you.

You padded barefoot into the kitchen, still in the soft silk set you’d changed into after peeling off the remnants of last night’s masquerade of matrimony. Your first morning as Mrs. Stark, and the husband in question was nowhere in sight.

The place was too quiet, except—

Thud.

Whirrrr.

You blinked.

From behind the island counter, a small robotic arm appeared, swaying from side to side with the unmistakable energy of something both curious and clumsy.

“Oh,” you said, a smile twitching onto your lips. “You’re definitely not a Roomba.”

The bot beeped twice, almost indignantly.

You crouched down, peering at the strange little thing yellow casing, single arm with a clamp at the end, and what looked suspiciously like a paint smudge on its base.

“Let me guess… Dum-E?”

A mechanical chirp. One spin in place. Confirmed.

“Well, hello to you too,” you said, warmth rising for the first time that morning. You stood, opened a cabinet after three failed attempts, and poured cereal into a bowl. “Guess it’s just us for breakfast.”

Dum-E buzzed beside you, trying to reach the drawer with the spoons and knocking it half-closed in the process.

You handed it to him. “No offense, but you’re not exactly subtle.”

A happy beep in return.

You ate in silence, half expecting Tony to make an appearance. But the longer the seconds stretched, the clearer it became—he wasn’t coming up. And he hadn’t all night.

Tony Stark was married, but still a ghost in his own home.

By noon, curiosity and a sense of polite obligation won out. You carried a small tray, leftover smoked salmon toast and espresso, the kind you read somewhere he liked. You tapped lightly on the door to his lab, but surprisingly, it was already open.

Inside, the space was awash in blue light, projections dancing mid-air. Tony was in his element, hair a mess, dark circles even darker, and his body curled forward in a way that screamed fatigue.

He didn’t look up.

“I brought you lunch,” you tried, voice lighter than your pulse. “Well. More like brunch. Or breakfast, depending on which timezone you’re living in.”

He typed something mid-air. A snort. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“You’ve said that before, haven’t you?”

Tony finally looked at you. And just for a second, you saw a flicker of something—guilt, or maybe just weariness. He was charming when he wanted to be, but you were starting to learn the difference between the mask and the man.

“I appreciate it,” he said, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Really. Just… knee-deep in something right now. Rain check?”

You nodded, biting back whatever response hovered at the edge of your tongue.

“Sure,” you said, lifting the tray a little. “I’ll just leave this here. In case caffeine stops working.”

“Unlikely,” he muttered.

As you turned, Dum-E met you at the door, as if escorting you out of a room you were never meant to enter in the first place.

Afternoon stretched like taffy. You explored the penthouse, unpacked a few things, also passed by Pepper in the hallway.

She stopped just short of acknowledging you.

“Mrs. Stark,” she said, coolly.

“Pepper,” you replied, lifting your chin with polite grace.

Her eyes flicked down at the throw blanket you’d tucked over the living room couch, or maybe the open book you left on the side table.

“Making yourself comfortable, I see.”

“Should I not be?” you asked, sugar-laced. “I do live here now.”

“Of course.” She smiled, but it was the kind that said you’re a guest in a house I built.

Then she walked away.

You stood still for a long moment before muttering, “…well, that wasn’t needed at all.”

.

Later that afternoon, you found yourself wandering into a room you hadn’t properly noticed before, likely because you’d been busy dodging small talk and champagne last night. The door was ajar, the lighting soft, and the scent of packaging paper and cologne wafted through the air.

Inside sat a mountain of unopened wedding gifts. Some were wrapped in matte black with gold ribbons, others in over-the-top luxury packaging.

Your gaze fell on one particular parcel near the top of the pile—white wrapping paper with red twine, utterly simple in contrast. Taped to the top was a card. You picked it up immediately: Bucky Barnes.

You opened it with a smile.

“To the newlyweds—Good luck surviving the Stark tornado. He grows on you. Eventually. Love, Buck & Steve.”

(P.S. You should open this one first. It’s a cocktail shaker. God knows you’ll need it.)

You laughed, unexpectedly warm.

On a nearby console, a sleek glass screen flickered to life as you passed. A touch-sensitive guestbook, no doubt a product of Stark’s own tech. Curiosity got the better of you.

You scrolled.

Some messages were standard-issue wedding fluff.

“Wishing you both love, laughter, and infinite bandwidth.” – Vision

“Please don’t blow up the honeymoon suite. Or do. I’m not judging.” – Sam Wilson

“You already know this, but I’m writing it down for the record: you’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and it’s about damn time someone did. I don’t usually believe in happily ever afters—but if anyone can make one out of a merger and a mess of a man, it’s you.

You’ve got steel in your spine and kindness in your eyes. Keep both. And if he ever forgets how lucky he is, remind him you’ve got me on speed dial.”

—Nat

Then came one that made you pause:

“If you break her heart, I’ll help you hide the body. Vice versa.” – Lt. Colonel James Rhodes

You stared at the screen for a beat, feeling a strange warmth spread beneath your ribs. You were surrounded by strangers, but maybe… just maybe, not entirely alone.

You shut the guestbook gently, the soft click echoing in the room.

The hallway beyond stood quiet. The penthouse was still too large, too glassy, too much like living in someone else’s dream. But little by little, it was starting to feel… curious. Open.

Not home. But not hostile.

And for now, that was enough.

.

The golden light from the setting sun spilled across the penthouse, brushing warmth onto the sleek floors and cold corners. You’d just finished flipping through the last entry in the digital guestbook—some snarky comment from Happy that made you snort-laugh despite the dull throb of isolation that had been pressing down all day. Tony was still sealed away in his lab, probably halfway through his fourth cup of bitter coffee and deep in his own mind. You hadn’t seen him since breakfast.

So the knock at the door startled you.

When you opened it, Natasha Romanoff stood on the other side, dressed in casual jeans and a fitted navy tee, a bakery bag in one hand and two takeaway cups in the other.

“I figured you could use some company that doesn’t require biometric access,” she said with a smirk, brushing past you like she belonged there. “Also, the coffee’s from that little place down the street. The guy says you’ve got good taste.”

You blinked. “You bribed a barista?”

“I charmed him,” she corrected, settling into the armchair like it was made for her. “I told him you just married Tony Stark. He took pity.”

You snorted and followed her in, heart easing a little. You weren’t used to kindness without strings in this house—not yet. But Natasha? She felt like the calm before a storm. Measured. Unshakeable. You needed a bit of that tonight.

As you sat across from her, wrapping your hands around the warmth of the cup, she leaned in slightly, studying you with that uncanny sharpness of hers.

“He’s not gonna come up for air for hours,” she said gently, meaning Tony. “But you don’t have to sit in the silence waiting for him.”

Your throat tightened, but you managed a quiet, “Thanks for coming.”

Natasha smiled, soft and knowing. “That’s what friends do.”

You both sipped in silence for a few moments, watching the city fade into shadows through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It should’ve been calming. But your shoulders stayed tense, your fingers tight around the cup like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Natasha was the first to break the quiet.

“So,” she said casually, “you surviving yet?”

You gave a soft, huffing laugh. “Define ‘surviving.’ I’m married to a man who doesn’t eat unless bribed, is one lab tantrum away from burning out, and who avoids eye contact like it owes him money.”

She tilted her head, amused. “Sounds like Tony.”

You looked over at her. “You know him well.”

Natasha nodded, setting her cup down on the side table. “Well enough to know he’s never brought someone into his life like this before. That means something.”

That lump in your throat returned, heavier now. “Some days it feels like I’m just a… strategic acquisition. A pawn in a merger that got too personal.”

Her brows lifted, then softened. “You’re more than that. I knew it when you walked into the reception like you weren’t afraid of him. Most people flinch around Tony Stark—especially the ones who want something. You didn’t.”

You blinked, surprised by the quiet steel in her voice.

“Trust me,” she continued, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “It takes guts to stand beside a man like him. But it takes something else entirely to reach him when he’s shutting down.”

“…Yeah, well,” you muttered, fiddling with your ring, “he hasn’t exactly made that part easy.”

“No. He doesn’t.” She smirked, but gently. “But that’s why I’m here. I figured you might need someone who speaks fluent Stark-induced chaos.”

You laughed again—truly, this time—and the tension finally cracked. “You offering to be my Stark translator?”

“Among other things.” She reached into the bakery bag and tossed you a lemon shortbread cookie. “Friend. Partner-in-crime. Occasional voice of reason.”

You bit into the cookie, warmth curling in your chest. “And if I need help hiding a body?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll bring the shovel.”

You grinned. “You’re hired.”

As the city lights flickered to life and the night settled around you, something inside eased. Maybe this place wouldn’t feel so cold after all.

.

The sun dipped behind the skyline. Manhattan glittered. The penthouse buzzed in the quiet way all machines do when they’re waiting for someone to notice something’s wrong.

And down in the lab, Tony staggered, fingers shaking as he gripped the edge of the worktable. His breathing was uneven, shallow. The light from his arc reactor flickered once. Then again.

“Not now,” he muttered to no one, tugging open the panel in his chest with trembling hands.

The arc reactor came free—burning hot in his grip. Sparks snapped and hissed at the edges, the metal sizzle loud in the sterile quiet of the lab.

Blue veins spidered out across his chest like cracks in porcelain. For a moment, Tony just stared at them. The room tilted. Or maybe he did.

He forced the new core in place, wincing as it clicked, hissed, then steadied.

Tony exhaled slowly, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. His face was pale. His lips tight.

He would tell no one.

Because he was Tony Stark. He could fix this.

He had to.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

Note: you can't stop me from giving a tiny reader to these two and I will not listen to anything ever.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You can't focus on one thing. Your eyes flit around. Shining tables, floating screens, metal tools and gadgets, cabinets with glass doors house endless supplies, Stark-branded emblems from wall to wall...

The lab is extraordinary, well above the shared spaces at the university. A dream come true for any but especially for a student used to ramen and a used single mattress. 

"You... you really get to come here whenever you want?" You rasp as your throat tickles. 

"Yup!" Peter answers at twice your volume. You wince. You tend to mumble and you're just not good with loud noises. He pauses to measure his voice, "uh, yeah, so I figured we could do our project here, study buddy." 

"Oh, mhmm," you hum as you fold your hands over your chest and sway. As awesome as it will be, that usual dread comes over you. What if you break something? What if you get in the way? 

"Pretty cool, right? Mr. Stark is so awesome." 

"Mr. Stark? Yeah, yeah..." you cough and lower your hands over stomach. "Thought it was a rumour..." 

"Yeah, he helped me out in high school after I won a robotics tournament. He's chill." 

You nod, almost frantically, as your eyes skitter around without focus. Your chest starts to tighten and you blink big. Peter shifts away from you. 

"Hey, you need a minute?" He asks. 

You look at him and keep nodding. It's why your happy you got him as your partner. He checks in. Not to mention, he's never annoyed by you. 

"I'll be here, wanna take a breath in the hall?"  

You squeak but don't quite get out a yes please. You spin and scurry to the door. You flinch and jump back as it slides open on it's own. Peter laughs and a small smile curves your lips but you're too nervous to laugh. 

The hall is empty. You bask in the solace, calming yourself against the wall. You just get a little worked up in new places. Or loud places. Or crowded places. Then it makes it so you can't breathe and then... 

You pull out your reliever inhaler and take a careful puff. You close your eyes and lean your head back as you wait for your heart to slow. In, out, in, out. 

You grip your inhaler as you stay unmoving against the wall. Your ears prick, listening for any sign of life, as you retreat behind your eyelids. Another breath and you'll be okay. 

"Um, miss?" A rocky voice jars you away from the wall and your eyes snap open. You nearly collide with the man before you. How did you not hear him coming? "Are you alright?" 

You bat your lashes and reach to play with plastic bow clip in your hair. He watches the motion as you nod, "yes, sir. Sorry. I..." Your mouth is sticky and parched, your surprise balls on your tongue. You clear away the lump, "you're... the Winter Soldier." 

His brow twitches, "Bucky." 

"Sorry, sorry, er... Buck...y," you trail off. You swing back and forth, "sorry... again, I..." 

You're embarrassed and lost. You give a sheepish look and turn away. You hurry back to the door and hit the keypad. It blares back at you in rejection. You don't know the code and you don't think your fingerprint will work. You stare at it helplessly. 

"Here," Bucky approaches and presses his thumb to the pad. "You new here?" 

You shake your head. Your chest wracks. You bring your puffer up and suck without thinking.  

The door slides open and you flit through. Peter leans on a table over his phone. He looks over as you enter and stands straight, tapping his fingers on the metal. 

"Hey, you found Bucky!" He grins. 

"Kid," the man follows you inside. Wait, why? Is he going to tell Peter on you? You didn't mean to call him that. You didn't know he wouldn't like it. 

"We're just having a look around," Peter explains, "we're both in engineering. Classmates." He introduces you by name, "Mr. Stark won't care too much if I'm doing homework." 

"Mm," Bucky grumbles as he goes to a far table. 

Peter shrugs and faces you again. "He can be a bit grumpy. We can get outta here." 

He comes forward as you hear metal tinking behind him. You glance over as Bucky works on his metal forearm with a thin tool. His vibranium fingers seems to work on their own as he wiggles the tip in a groove.  

"Grumpy and has super hearing," Bucky snipes as he keeps his attention on his arm. 

Peter's brows pop up and he rolls his eyes, "come on, let's get outta here before he gets his arm calibrated." 

You turn and go back through to the hallway. The door shuts behind Peter and he sighs. He points you down the hall as you shuffle aimlessly. 

"This place is sweet but you know, some of the regulars can be a bit much," he jokes. "You'll get used to Buck. He's never in a good mood. Better when Sam's around but... well, he's grown. Shouldn't need a chaperone, right?" 

You tilt your head but don't say anything. You don't know much about them. You learned about Captain America and The Winter Soldier in history back in high school. Your knowledge of the Avengers and their current roster is extremely lacking. Other than the Spidery one. Everyone on campus talks about him. 

"Mmhmm." You drone. 

"Gee, sorry, I know it's a lot, huh? Didn't mean to overload you!" He chimes. 

You shake your head, "I'm okay." 

"I know, I know. Kinda nice having someone quiet around. Ned is a chatterbox and the worst project partner. He just wants to talk about girls or lego." 

You dip your head to show you're listening. You glance at your inhaler and yuck is away in your crossbody bag. You drop your arms straight and continue next to Peter to the elevator. 

"Wanna get a slice? I'm starving," he says. "My treat." 

"Oh... you don't..." 

"Nah, don't worry about it. I just want pizza without May telling me not too," he chuckles. "Trust, I know a great place." 

You purse your lips and push your shoulders up again. You give a silent surrender with a tilt of your head. Even if you feel a bit guilty, you won't say no to free food. 

[notapradagurl7]

For Mr. Robot/Joey BadA$$: can you do a Leon x Fem!Reader as Elliot Alderson where around late November/early December the reader (as Elliot) meets with Leon and seduces and tells him while she makes out with him, she wants him to help her take down Whiterose, with Leon promising her to be her "loyal knight"

My Loyal Knight.

Pairings: Black Fem! Reader(Elliot Alderson) x Joey Bada$$ as “Leon” from Mr. Robot.

Summary: See Ask. You worked in a cybersecurity company but a skilled hacker by night, and crossed paths with Leon. When you headed to his house, you decided to come over not only for a seductive encounter, you expressed your desire for his assistance in bringing down Whiterose. Leon promises to be your “loyal knight”

A/N: I really appreciate this, lovely anon! 😌 I've been eager to write about Leon in Mr. Robot for weeks, but here it is! Please resume sending in your requests for Leon in Mr. Robot! I wrote this with a black woman in mind but all are welcome to read, Don't forget to leave comments, likes and reblogs are welcome to support, drop a request if you like, they're always open! ❤️🫡

WC: 4,641k.

Warnings: dirty talk, cursing, mention of violence, seduction, mention of murder, consensual for both parties, steamy make-out session, fingering(fem receiving), use of AAVE, reader embodying Elliot Alderson, praise, mental health, reader being stressed out, paranoia, anxious reader, PWP, love-smitten Leon, mention of masturbation, jealous!Leon, smut, voice kink, (if you squint), slight masochist reader.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @naj-ay444

@becauseimswagman1

@beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @henneseyhoe

@yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @caashmoneynae @siqueth @miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest-  @uniqueoutlierblog @dxddyken

@mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert

@lady-olive-oil @23jammy @musicisme333  @saturnville @enchantedillumination  @mogul93 @theereina @uzumaki-rebellion @blyffe @hotmessexpress94 @fakxmbj @kumkaniudaku @ranikyani @mama-2001

—————

The biting chill of the winter air pressed against the windowpanes of your cozy apartment, sending a shudder through the old building. Each creak and groan echoed like a warning bell, a reminder of the impending winter that loomed over the city. 

You instinctively pulled the soft, woolen pink blanket tighter around your shoulders, seeking solace from the draft. 

The glow of your computer screen illuminated your face as you scrolled through lines of code, your mind racing by a second to second. 

You had been meticulously planning your next move against Whiterose, the elusive enemy lurking in the shadows of your digital world. 

The night still enfolds the world outside, yet your mind stirred restlessly, breaking the peaceful silence with a sudden, insistent thought that demanded your attention despite the hours of sleep you had already managed to steal.

The thought that motivated you was about taking down Whiterose, but somehow they returned to wreak havoc on everything and everyone you cared about. You couldn't allow this to happen—not to you, not to your best friend, and not to Leon.

With a soft sigh escaping your lips, you sprang up from your desk chair before turning off your computer and watching it fade to black, your socks gliding over the cool, smooth brown hardwood floors. 

As you gracefully navigated your way down the dimly lit hallway. Turning left, you made your way toward the warm bathroom, the faint scent of lavender from the air freshener lingering in the air ahead.

You flipped on the light switch before entering, completed your morning routine by showering, brushing your teeth, and washing your face, while the bright orange, circular light on the ceiling shone on your brown skin. 

Your brown pixie haircut framed your face, while your nose, lips, and determined brown eyes gleamed on that anticipated day.

It was a good thing you didn't have to worry about your hair since it was in a protective style, thankfully your aunt was a hairstylist. Free of worry, and free of charge was her motto and yours as well.

After that, you pulled on your familiar oversized black sweater and jacket, its fabric soft and worn from countless outings, enveloping you in a cocoon of comfort. 

The jacket draped loosely over your frame, the sleekness of your black sweatpants, which pooled around your legs like shadows. Your matching black shoes, polished yet understated, each step soundless against the ground.

However, you couldn't shake the annoyance that crept in whenever someone tried to disrupt that harmony. 

As a final touch, you settled a snug beanie over your head, its warmth reassuring against the chilly air, shielding your ears from the cold.

It was one of the many days you spent with Leon, you couldn't wait for it. You stepped out of the medium-sized bathroom with ease, and headed back to your bedroom.

Having Leon as a friend felt comforting. He was chatty as hell, and his words flowed effortlessly, while you found solace in simply listening, responding with soft hums and nods. He could go on and on about literature and television.

With him, your social anxiety seemed to fade into the background, allowing you to feel momentarily at ease in a world that often felt overwhelming. 

Today, you planned to visit Leon at his home to discuss your upcoming plans on taking down Whiterose. The anticipation buzzed in your mind as you thought about finally seeing where he lived, a place you had never laid eyes on before. 

Curiosity tugged at you; you wanted to know more about the space that Leon inhabited. He had mentioned that his house was situated near a location you had purposely kept to yourself.

Did the Darkarmy mention that particular detail to him? The thought lingered uneasily in your mind. 

You brushed it off rather too quickly, and preoccupied your mind with something else. Walking out of your safest sanctuary known as the bedroom, heading for the front door, and unlock it by using a key giving a swift twist. Heading out into the chaotic world of danger, thieves, and liars.

He had saved you more times than you could count, stepping in with unwavering courage when danger lurked just around the corner. 

Leon was not just a friend; he was a valuable asset to you, he used work for the Dark Army and skilled enough to handle any weapon that crossed his path. But now, he was a freelance agent.

You two had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, but there was something deeper simmering beneath the surface, something that both excited and terrified you. 

His unpredictability was both a comfort and a risk, and you had learned to trust his instincts as much as your own. He was a force to be reckoned with.

From the harrowing nights when menacing figures tried to kidnap you, to those moments when he intervened at just the right time to protect you from various threats, you always felt a mix of gratitude and admiration for him.

You had a tendency to overthink everything, conjuring up detailed scenarios in your head that often skewed toward the dramatic. It wasn't hard to do, especially considering all the close calls you had faced together.

You maintained a steady, smooth pace as you maneuvered through the bustling crowd, with the city's lively energy pulsing around you. 

The noise that filled the streets quickly faded into an unexpected silence when you took a sharp left onto a narrow sidewalk, leading you into a gate to a shadowy path and no one followed behind you. The sign said “Don't enter, danger”

As you entered a dimly lit tunnel of concrete, a weathered green gate groaned softly, its hinges refusing as you pushed it open. 

Bursting through the gate, you stepped onto the sidewalk and approached a quaint cul-de-sac, where rows of charming houses stood shoulder to shoulder. 

Leon’s house was the light green one in the middle of the other houses. You could almost spot the television rays filtering on the curtains, which was too easy.

The street was bathed in the warm glow of orange streetlights that flickered like soft fireflies against the inviting dusk. 

Each house was adorned with four neatly arranged windows and light greens, bright reds and oranges, their facades simple yet inviting, and the towering trees stood sentinel in the back.

It looked as if the trees were protecting them from whatever was out there, as some would say that Mother Nature was on their side.

The lawns were meticulously tended, the grass trimmed short and free of any debris, enhancing the serenity, this looked like seemingly ordinary neighborhood.

It also had the kind of charm that felt both nostalgic and safe, as you approached Leon’s house, a wave of excitement bubbled within you.

But still, you couldn't shake the feeling that your relationship with Leon was on the verge of shifting. 

The stakes were high, and there was no telling how this mission would change the dynamics between you.

Leon was likely already inside, probably watching something on TV, a grin plastered on his face as he lost himself in his favorite shows.

You knocked on the door, the rhythm of your heartbeat syncing with the theme song that played on his television and spilled out into the night.

Seconds later, the door swung open almost immediately, revealing Leon with that signature smile. 

He sported a simple black tee shirt, a camouflage jacket with and matching pants pooled around his legs, his locs in two-strand twists swayed gracefully with a navy blue bandana atop his head, the jewelry in his hair glistened prettily. Two earrings in his ears shone brightly from the glow of the television screen. His socks on his feet and shoes rested beside the door.

You quickly kicked off your shoes, then placed them beside Leon’s shoes, your sock-clad feet made contact with the cool, brown hardwood floors.

His face lit up when he saw you, a wide grin breaking across his attractive face with his dark brown eyes on youZ

“What’s up Y/N? Glad you made it to my crib, make yourself right at home,” he exclaimed, his voice rich with joy from seeing you.

You felt the corner of your mouth curl up in a smile, and stepped right in, “Hi Leon, Thanks,” you replied, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. 

His house was a reflection of himself, the walls painted in chocolate brown were adorned with posters of classic movies and shows, and the few remnants of night binge-watching sessions littered across the polished brown coffee table. 

The decor of his house, reminded you of green mint chocolate bars, a blend of it all made you smile. Simple but not too much color in one space.

He flipped the light switch, casting an orange glow to the spacious yet tidy living room, the light sprawled out in the cozy ambiance, and your eyes resumed roaming the place, it was your first time here after all. Maybe you could live in this neighborhood with him, hidden from the city and in this quiet place. 

The flat screen television rested on the black dresser, steady in place, showing off a TV show called The Wire.

“I've been binge-watchin’ The Wire and I'm four seasons in but I gotta say, that show is a masterpiece, This one character, Omar is a good villain, everyone starts runnin’ like hell whenever he’s around,” Leon trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.

You did the usual head nod and soft humming routine until your stomach growled in  middle of him talking, you liked to hear him speak, the way his Brooklyn accent left from his speech, the way his plump lips curled up into a smirk made those feelings come right back to you, it was only a crush though.

“I need to tell you something important, Leon,” You brought up, ripping the band-aid rather too quickly, hating that impulsive decision making side of yours.

He leaned back, one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch, raising an eyebrow. “I'm all ears, you know I'm down to help my girl out however I can.” 

His words sent a tingle through you, feeling the heat crept up on your cheeks. The way he said “my girl” felt like more than friendship, that unwavering loyalty he had for you made you grateful to keep him around.

He paused, his eyes locking with yours that made your heart race, “You hungry? My mom whipped up some bomb-ass food in the kitchen last night,”

You laughed softly, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you then rubbed your stomach in circles, “Yeah, I could definitely eat,” you replied, trying to keep the conversation light.

You didn't want to dive into the heavy stuff just yet—there would be a time for that later. 

Leon leads you to the kitchen, where the scent of beef pot roast, roasted vegetables, and dirty rice, he had the table set with a casual flair, and mismatched plates. Both of you took the seat across from each other.

“Here you go, sit down and eat,” he said, a proud grin on his face as he passed you a plate of food.

“Got some drinks in the fridge, help yourself,” he replied, gesturing toward the kitchen as he plopped down on the safe green couch.

“Thanks, Leon,” you called over your shoulder, opening it and grabbing a water bottle before twisting the cap, and taking a sip. Closing the fridge quickly.

As you dug into the delicious meal, you heard the man ramble endlessly about the characters from The Wire, such as Marlo, Wee-Bey, Avon, and a few of the detectives. Leon expressed that the show deserved an award, talking about how unfair it was that the show didn't have one.

After finishing the meal and he washed the dishes, you both migrated to the couch, settling back into the plush cushions with him. Leon flipped through the channels aimlessly, but his attention quickly drifted back to you.

Leaning a bit closer, his gaze searching your gaze, he couldn't read your mind but he knew that you had something to say, he’s so damn observant. That almost scared you.

“You good, Y/N? You seem kinda distant,” he asked, his tone laced with concern.

You hesitated, biting your lip as you felt the tension rising, “Just…a lot on my mind, you know?” you trailed off, shrugging your 

“Yeah? Wanna talk about it?” His voice was low, and inviting, but you your head, felt a rush of boldness through your being.

“Not yet, I want to feel something with you,” you said, your voice sultry as you leaned closer to him. 

Leon’s breath hitched, and you could see the flicker of desire in his eyes. “What’chu want, then?” he asked.

“Touch me,” you blurted, your heart racing as you closed the distance between you two.

Your hand softly glided up his arm, the gentle material of his jacket obscuring your tender touch, yet Leon could still sense it; your gazes intertwined with fervor, and your fingers caressed his arm once more, this time with deliberate slowness and meaning.

Until Mr. Robot spoke up in the depths of your mind, “Are you seriously wasting your time right now? You have a mission to do, take down Whiterose! Go!”

Your hand desperately gripped and pulled on the fabric of his jacket, pulling him closer as he caught on to the hint quickly, crashing his lips against yours, your mouth parted to moan, inviting him in before kissing him back again. Your tongue gliding across his upper lip, motivating his tongue to match with your pace.

You felt his fingers slide under the hem of your oversized sweater, his hand rubbing the small of your back, the softness of your brown skin made him groan in response, tasting the chocolate mint candy and lip gloss on you, “Damn, girl,”

But this time you ignored the voice of your father that haunted you for what seemed like years but you when you got closer to your knight in stylish attire, that voice went silent. Finally.

His hands glide back to your waist, pulling you close as he deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth with his tongue and eliciting soft moans from you while pulling at his bottom lip using yours.

Suddenly, Leon pulls away, leaving you whining from the loss of his warm lips, and you gasp as he sucked your pulse point on your neck with a fervent intensity, sinking his teeth in your skin like a vampire. 

Trailing kisses along your neck, Marking you as his girl, leaving a trail of tiny purple hickeys on you.

“You sure about this?” He asked again in concern, pulling away from your lip. 

You nodded, craving his touch. “Yes, I'm sure, I want this,” you replied back, giving him a small smile.

With that, he lifted you slightly on his lap. your hands gripped his shoulders from feeling the heat radiating off him, His hands slid over your sweatpants, gripping your ass with a possessiveness that the heat crept into your cheeks. 

Your bodies molding together perfectly as you straddled him, the strength in his arms as he held you tight, and it only spurred you on. He groaned in response until he kept his eyes on you.

He lifted you slightly, adjusting his position as his lips smashed into yours, his hand sliding past the waistband of your sweatpants as he gently tugged on them, “Take this off for me, baby,” he coaxed, gently lifting your chin forcing you to look at him. 

“Mhmm,” you hummed as you hands gently pulled down your sweatpants, your socks rolled off, and his fingers locked with your panties, pulling them off and watching a chain of your wetness separate from them.

His fingers found their way to your thighs, brushing against your folds, “So fuckin’ wet for me huh?” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. He withdrew his fingers from your pussy, and licked them clean before sliding them back in.

You only nodded too quickly, feeling the soft warmth of his fingers inside, your back arching instinctively toward him. “You taste better than I imagined,” he panted, rubbing your breasts in a steady motion while you looked into his eyes.

Your mind reeled back to what he said, Leon definitely imagined this just as you did. The fantasies in his mind weren't close enough to this very moment, it was even better. 

Thinking of you in various positions, saying his name repeatedly like a mantra, so wildly instead of a greeting. Your faces spurred him on and on, pushing him to give you more as you slipped your sweater off, his other hand massaged your breast in a swift motion and his mouth wrapped around your nipple, the other, You felt so filled up yet you needed more, but this will suffice, you kept your breathing steady.

Leon pumping his fingers in and out of you, your wetness pooling on the couch, wetting up in his palm, “You've been waiting for this? This is what you wanted?” he smirked, kissing along your collarbone.

“Yess..I wanted this so bad…” A moan escaped your lips, as you rolled your hips against his fingers. Your slick walls tightened around him, a multitude of waves washed over you immediately, bear-hugging him once you saw stars sparkling before you. 

“Oh, you did? and you feel amazing,” he encouraged, his voice low yet a bit raspy. His thumb circling your clit as he watched your reactions closely, curling up his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion inside, making it difficult to keep your composure. 

“Fuck, yes!” you breathed, the pleasure building with each stroke of his fingers, you were feeling the world fade away around you, the paranoia, the pain, and the problems. It felt so good to forget everything and not to worry about anything for a while, that was Leon for you. Your escape, your solace in an empty, cold place.

Leon observed how your pussy eagerly sucked his fingers back in when he nearly withdrew them, but he held off on teasing you for the moment. “If only you could see yourself, makin’ those pretty faces, sayin’ my name like this?” Leon teased with a smirk, enjoying every moment.

You were already bottoming out by the sensation you had long desired. You drew him closer for a passionate and untamed kiss while pressing your hips down even more. “Ah..shit! Leon! Fuckk! I..need!” you cried out in desperation, you quickly grabbed his wrist that was still around your throat. 

The pleasure coursed through your body over and over again, unable to keep himself quiet, moaning quietly. “Need what? Speak the fuck up, baby,” he growled with a deepened tone, His hand adorned with gold rings gently gripped your throat, momentarily constricting your airflow, eliciting a soft harsh gasp from you. 

“I need more…” you babbled with a slut like moan, your face twisted with pleasure, as you arched your head back, your mouth hung open and left breathless once his thumb flattened on your swollen, throbbing wet clit. He did what you requested, drilling his fingers into you relentlessly.

“You’ve been playin’ with your pussy? Hm? Who’s been on that nasty mind of yours?” Leon chuckled darkly, picking up the pace, as he watched your legs shake weakly and your hands gripped his jacket tightly. 

Your mind blurs from the pleasure into nothingness, going completely blank. Leon applied more pressure on your neck, you screamed in pleasure at the pain he was giving you, and he showed off a sadistic smirk, taking in your half-lidded eyes, feral moans and his name in between all of it.

It was too embarrassing to mention, Your crush was right there in front of you. You only moaned wildly as his fingers curled up again just to torture you further, relishing this, and he spanked you ass roughly in response. Bringing your face closely to his, his nose nuzzling against yours lovingly. 

So this is what love felt like that? That burning heat scorching through your veins, that soft warmth feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach, you didn't want to let go of this feeling. It was too precious and sacred to let go so fast, you had Leon. 

You etched that in your brain, as if it played like a cinema.

“I said, who’s been on your mind? Someone else? Answer me,” he recited in a possessive tone, you whined softly but your nails scratched onto his skin, you wanted people to know that he was all yours.

“Y-you! Shit…it’s only you Leon! I promise!” You screamed, the sound of his name a prayer on your lips. He wanted to be the one to answer that prayer, that call and give what you asked of him.

You were on the verge, hovering near the boundary you had crossed with him, and you noticed the intensity in Leon's gaze filled with passion, affection, and desire. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, the words wrapped around you and gave you butterflies. His fingers worked with precision and just when you thought you might burst from pleasure.

Leon leaned in closer, his lips biting on your ear, brushing against it before pulling back to look into your half-lidded eyes. His teeth dug into his lips, stifling a moan from giving you so much pleasure. He loved it, relished in it.

“Because I can't stand the thought of anyone else havin’ you, you’re mine, and I’ll do anythin’ to protect what’s mine, ours." He promised to you, feeling that sensation again but you could hardly breathe. 

He dominated the moment and ensured you experienced pleasure like never before. It surpassed mere goodness; it was extraordinary.

“Leon…I’m…I’m gonna—-” You groaned, the words barely left your mouth before he silenced you with a kiss, deep and passionate, as if he was trying to consume you whole. 

“You can cum, baby, I got you,” he breathed against your mouth, and that was all it took. That voice of his was dangerous, it turned you on deeply, making you moan again.

Your climax tore through your entire body, the knot tightening ready to unlace, but Leon drilled his fingers into you roughly and stood still, making you drool on his neck and your body twitching against him from overstimulation.

Your essence spilled out onto his fingers, pouring on his palm, making his rings glisten underneath the light. You screamed out loudly, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room. Your hand gripping his shoulders tight as you rode out his fingers in pure bliss.

His hand released your neck quickly and looked to see if he left anything, but there were only purple hickeys. He withdrew his fingers from you, He smirked at you and planting a sweet kiss on your forehead, pressing his against yours. It felt nice, felt right with him.

“You’re so good to me…Leon” you whispered to him, peppering sloppy kisses onto his soft lips as he kissed you back each time.

“Always, my beautiful girl,” 

As your body came down from your high, you found yourself collapsing against him, spent and breathless. Leon’s arms wrapped you, holding you close as you tried to catch your breath. 

“You good?” he asked softly, his voice laced with concren.

You nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face, “Yeah, I'm good,”

Leon sat up from the couch and made a left turn toward the closet, opening it and walked into the bathroom to wet the washcloth, he came back and crouched down in front of you wiping the mess between your legs, you twitched and hissed from the sudden touch, he looked up at you with concern.

“My bad, baby,” He said to you, his eyes flickering toward to him.

Oh right, you'd almost forgotten to talk about what you came over here for.

“T-there’s something I need to talk to you about, but i need to take a shower first,”

The rise and fall of your chest filled the room once you finally gathered your thoughts but you asked him if it was okay if you could take a shower, he said yes with a nod.

You made a left and headed for the bathroom, picking up your clothes, taking a shower and Leon cleaned up the mess on the couch. Heading back to the living room where he was still sitting on the couch. You drank some water and pulled out your laptop.

“I'm back, okay so here's my plan," You declared with confidence, walking back to the living room with same clothes you camw

“I'm all ears, baby girl,” 

You grinned like a Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland once you heard those spoken by him, Leon was putty in your hands. He was all yours and you refused to let go of him.

“I need your help with Whiterose, and I want to make sure that we’re on the same page and not distracted,” You replied to him with confidence.

“A’ight, I got you,” Leon replied back, nodding. His expression shifted to one of seriousness.

As you both settled down at the small dining table, you settled your laptop on it. The laptop brings a sense of clarity to your anxious thoughts. 

You started outlining your plan, and the screen reflected your strategy, the number of options and a way out for both of you to be alive.

Leon leaned in, his eyes scanning the screen with interest as you explained your ideas, the way you wanted to infiltrate Whiterose’s operations.

“That’s great, but we gotta be smart about this, we both know they don't play fair. You think that we can play it off without gettin’ caught?” He asked, feeling a sense of belonging.

“We have to, I can't let anyone else I care about getting hurt, not again.” You shot back with a resolution, nodding.  

Leon reached across the table, his hand covering yours, grounding you. 

“I promise to be your loyal knight, to every end. It’s us versus them, we‘ll get through this like we always do baby,” Leon promised to you, his lips curled up into a smirk. Giving you peace and soothing your thoughts.

————

[maivolpe]

Peter Parker x female!reader (established relationship)

Imagine if Peter finally brought his gf to the tower

Everyone would be so happy for Peter, and tony would give her wanrjngs ofc

this is an alternate universe where the events of civil war never happened, but tony still called peter in. and let’s not talk about how i’m over a year late… life caught up to me. if you’ve stuck around, i appreciate you! thank you for requesting ♡

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader cw: mentions of anxiety, mentions of alcohol, threats wc: 1.4k

“honey, why are you fidgeting?” peter asked, gently grasping your fingers to keep you from pulling on the hem of your sweater.

you sighed, giving his hands a small squeeze. "i'm scared, pete. they're a huge part of your life. what if they don't like me?"

he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "i promise they'll love you, bug. how could they not?"

you managed a wobbly smile, and concern clouded peter's face. "how about this, honey? if they don't like you, i'll quit. i'll pack everything up and leave. we're a package deal, yeah?"

he extended his pinky, prodding yours.

"no, that's so stupid. this is- you love everything about them, and this job. i could never make you do that."

peter wrapped his pinky around yours and grinned. "good, because it's not going to happen."

a small ding preceded the elevator slowing to a stop, and your heart once again raced. you knew it was stupid, you knew they wouldn't be anything but kind to you. and yet, the same little voice that told you peter was too good for you was talking.

it didn't have much time, however, because the elevator doors slid open.

in front of you stood a massive workshop, high-tech equipment stuffed in every corner. screens mounted high on the walls blinked with all sorts of blueprints, while robots scuttled across the ground and holograms of iron man suits twirled through the air. both vintage and sports cars lined the back wall, shelves stuffed with funnels, jacks, and batteries. old versions of iron man suits stood displayed across the workshop, all the way from the silver mark two to the flashy mark forty-five.

the real iron man was bent over a table saw in the middle of the workshop. he was clad in a ragged metallica shirt, grease smeared across his face as he ran a sheet of cherry-red metal over the blade. sparks danced up into the air at the contact, just missing his face.

“hey, mr. stark!”

the screech of the saw stopped, though tony didn't look up from his work. a scrap of metal clattered to the floor, and you cringed at the sound.

“hey, pete,” he said.

it was silent for a moment, and peter cleared his throat. tony’s gaze flicked toward you, and you offered him an awkward wave. his eyes widened.

“well jesus, spider-boy, you didn’t tell me you were bringing a lady!”

“sorry,” peter laughed. “this is mr. stark. mr. stark, this is…”

"oh, she needs no introduction!"

he leapt up from his desk, tossing his plastic safety glasses to the side before pulling you into an embrace. he smelled like smoke, and your eyes stung with it.

"nice to meet you, mr. stark," you said, muffled against the fabric of his t-shirt.

"nice to meet you, kiddo." tony leaned in close to your ear to whisper. "you hurt him, we hurt you."

you blinked. "um-"

"kidding, i'm kidding. but seriously," he said, straightening up and walking back to his saw. "don't try it."

"i-i won't."

peter shot tony a glare before taking your hand in his. "come on, bug, let's go meet the rest."

"bug? that's adorable. think i should try that on pepper?"

"shut up, mr. stark!"

peter led you across the floor, through a set of doors, and up a flight of stairs. when he ceased to hear your footsteps pattering behind him, he glanced back at you. you stood three or four steps down, mouth agape at the majesty of the space in front of you.

it was the floor of the avengers tower that you'd become accustomed to seeing, in the back of peter's selfies and facetime calls, but pictures didn't do it or its inhabitants justice. beautiful paintings were hung across the walls, antiquated weapons were illuminated in glass cases, and intricate centerpieces adorned a dark wooden dining table. bookshelves lined the hardwood floors, full of armor and games and magazines. light streamed in from frosted glass windows and glowed from lamps set in every corner.

the kitchen was just as impressive, overflowing with bowls of fresh fruit, all sorts of cutlery, and every cooking gadget you could dream of. some shelves were full of cookbooks and ingredients, others displaying china and cocktail glasses. the sleek silver appliances glinted in the sunlight, only compounding your overwhelming sense of just how expensive everything was.

the scarlet witch stood at the stove, stirring the contents of a pot that smelled heavenly. across the room, sprawled on an orange couch, was black widow. the opposite couch held sat captain america and the falcon, deep in conversation.

peter's voice echoed across the room when he spoke.

"hey, i, uh, brought you guys a friend."

every head turned, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. silence hung heavy in the air, and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"well, don't stare the poor thing down," natasha said.

somehow, just like that, the tension was gone.

wanda smiled brightly from her spot in the kitchen, offering you a wave with her free hand. "i like your sweater!"

"thank you!"

steve rose to his feet and shook your hand firmly. "i hope tony didn't scare you too badly."

you chuckled. "no, he's just... a little intense."

natasha laughed, shifting to one side of the couch to make space for you. "that's a nice way of putting it."

you settled next to her gratefully, and she offered you a warm smile.

"he's going crazy because rhodey's not here to keep him in check," sam said.

"when does he get back?" peter asked. "i have an idea for a new attachment for his suit."

"he has a committee meeting in d.c.," natasha said. "he should be back in a week."

peter frowned. "why does he have to be gone for so long?"

"do not be upset that colonel rhodes has a job and you are unemployed," a new voice spoke from behind the couch.

you snickered at the betrayed look on peter's face.

the android floated around the corner, extending a vibranium hand. "i am vision."

you shook his hand. "nice to meet you."

peter didn't want to let the subject drop. "being spider-man is my job," he argued.

you saw your chance to tease him, and took it. "then where are those paychecks?"

peter's jaw dropped, and before you could protect yourself, he was lunging forward, fingers tickling under your shirt. you squealed and squirmed behind natasha, who stared daggers at your boyfriend until he backed down.

steve smiled. "i like you. you're good for the kid."

"yeah, he needs humbled sometimes," sam agreed.

the conversation continued around you, and while you didn't contribute much, they made sure to include you. you found you loved observing the avengers' dynamic, their quick banter and easy laughter captivating you. it felt like, well, a family.

wanda called to you from the kitchen, her voice pulling you out of your reverie. "i am making lunch, would you like a plate?"

you shook your head. "that's very kind, but you don't have to."

"no, i insist."

"trust her," sam offered. "she's a great cook."

you relented. "if you're sure, wanda, i'd love a plate."

everyone gathered at the kitchen table while wanda served up lunch. peter pulled a chair up next to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"having fun?"

"so much," you smiled.

wanda had made dumplings, and they were indeed delicious. you were glad you had taken her up on her offer. they even seemed to sate peter's superhuman appetite- he sat back in his chair after only six.

tony passed through the kitchen, even dirtier than before, if that was possible. now a whole sleeve of his shirt was singed off. he grabbed a plate with stained fingers and loaded it with dumplings.

"these are great," he managed between bites.

"they're better if you chew them," steve mumured.

"hop off, old man. not like you could chew with those dentures anyways."

he finished his plate and set it on the table, grabbing a bottle of scotch from the shelf. natasha and steve exchanged looks while he poured himself a glass.

"underoos, do me a favor and bring your aunt over next."

he strutted out of the room before peter could let out an exasperated 'mr. stark!'

when you had finished your dumplings, peter cleared both of your plates and returned to your side.

"ready to go, baby?"

"pete, could we actually... stay a while?”

you swore you'd never seen peter as happy as he looked in that moment. he was positively beaming, eyes alight with pride.

"we can stay as long as you want, bug."

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

ko-fi ♡

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello Ravenmod!! Hope recovery's going well.

Coral Sea event is finally here !!! I saw this tweet and immediately thought about... Miss Raven and Jade 🥺💙 (also: Mama Leech...!?!?! ma'am how do you feel about... crows / ravens... for no particular reason...)

https://x.com/aitaikimochi/status/1914586828377923868?t=re4JjAzrfkX8LCEozNw41g&s=19

And that got me thinking... Since Raven is such a fairytale enthusiast — how would her ideal wedding be like?

Hello, hello! I think I'm doing well now; I'm at least comfortable enough to return the pinned post from the health update back to the usual one. I seriously think all my excitement for the Eternity Float event sped up my recovery... I gained so much energy when I first saw the April 2025 JP schedule. Literally was counting down the days until it arrived!

adihbqeryow35r13ri7adfiyvVFEGP Miss Raven meeting one of Jade's parents 💀 Upon hearing that Jade will be introducing her to his mother, she'd immediately be suspicious (knowing what kind of people Jade and his twin brother are; the woman that raised these menaces must be a menace herself). But then all those thoughts go right out the window when Raven meets Georgina face-to-face. You'd think Raven would be freaked out by how tall Mrs. Leech is or how she's dressed to kill in all that black... but no, Raven's actually in complete and total awe of this woman. To her, Georgina Leech is like THE "ideal lady" she's been striving to become herself. So beautiful, so polite, so elegant, so intelligent, so charming!! Is she even a real person?! As for Georgina, I think she'd be entertained by a creature of the sky expressing such a vested interest in the sea. Maybe she'll tease a bit, poke and prod to see how this bird gets along with her son. It's like a little initiation test to see how Raven fares www

"My mother, Georgina Leech. Mother, this is Raven Crowley, our headmaster's ward."

Raven can barely process whatever words are leaving Jade's mouth. He could be spewing utter poison, the vilest insults known to mankind, and still her senses glazed over. Before this radiant lady, they are all but tiny moons orbiting a far grander planet, pulled further and further in by an unexplained magnetism. Raven robotically sticks out a hand and blurts out, "I-It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, ma'am!" It's said in a pathetic squeak, and she fears her muscles are limp as Georgina seizes her outstretched hand.

"Oh, there's no need to be shy, dear," she coos, slick as seaweed. "I'm already quite familiar with you." "Y-You are?" "I've heard so many stories about you from Jade." Georgina's lips--painted a shade so deep it borders on black--peel back into an amicable smile. "Ufufufu. He tells me you are ever so amusing. A raven that longs to experience the sea... such an oddity! I do hope that I will be able to help you recognize that dream of yours here in Ultramarine City. Don't be a stranger. I will be here to answer any and all inquiries you may have."

"O-Oh... okay, I'll take you up on that offer, ma'am!" Raven stutters, bowing her head deeply in appreciation.

ashdbasdgvadaWQEGGQWO314ii1 Funnily enough, while Miss Raven is a fairy tale enthusiast + romantic and often fantasizes about the "what ifs", she hasn't thought much about her own ideal wedding. It's mostly because she doesn't know if she'll be able to find that coveted "true love" they speak of in storybooks, and also because most of the guys she's surrounded with aren't... the most upstanding individuals 😂 If you asked her directly, Raven might just claim she'd "just sign legal documentation and have it be over with as soon as possible" or say that she "doesn't dream of such silly things"! ... The reality is, I think she'd want to talk it over with a potential life partner and come to a mutual agreement on how their wedding should be. Mated birds will usually work together to build a nest, so translating that over to her new life as a girl... Miss Raven wants to cooperate to "build a nest" (make a wedding, home, life, etc.) together. Errrrrrrrrrrrr 💦 yeah, good luck getting any NRC guy to agree to that???/j

[yuyu1024]

Prisoner

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞 smut, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, unprotected sex, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kinks, Smoking [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 3.0k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: repost. Likes and reblogs are much appreciated 🫶🏻

Check pinned post for more

***

The sound of the wedding bells and the people cheering for your union are still ringing in your ears. You could also still envision your friends and families' warmest smiles and tearful hugs as they congratulate you. Everyone is so happy. They kept on saying that your wedding is the most magical and happiest they've ever seen.

Yes. Your wedding is the grand. The whole castle like church is filled with the whitest flowers that gives an illusion of the place is floating in clouds. You could also see shiniest silvers and krystals all over the place. It felt unreal.

You requested for a simple wedding but you are given more than that and you love it.

The wedding is also filled with people you both love and cherish. So you feel comfortable and loved all through out the ceremony and the party afterwards.

Yes. The wedding is amazing.

Yes. The wedding is to die for.

Yes. The wedding is like a fantasy.

It's because it is... it is a fantasy and no where near reality.

It is only for show to make people believe that you and the man you married is real.

Little did everyone know, your marriage is just arranged. You were just handpicked by the groom because he had no other option. He didn't like the women his parents are suggesting. So he decided to himself to pick someone from the ground and carry to his world. A world filled with darkness and resentment. A very, very, very cold world.

"Miss..." a voice echoes waking you up from your daydream

You slowly open your eyes to see the barely lit room that you are still in. You get up from leaning onto the edge of the bathtub and see your personal maid near the door. Her head lowered not making eye contact with you. She's holding your towel and bathrobe.

"I'm sorry, Miss. But Master asked for dinner to be served soon...he's on his way home."

You look down at your hands peeking from the warm milky water and then pick up the rose petals floating on it. "He's early today..." you mumble quietly

"I heard that the meeting with his father, Mr. Min finished early..."

"I wonder why..." you got up from the bath. She immidiately rush towards you, handing you the towel and bathrobe to use.

"Mr. Min told Master to go home early... because of you Miss..."

"Ah... really..." there is no hint of excitement in your voice. "You can leave now and help them prepare... I'll get ready myself..." you tell the maid, who is still not having any eye contact with you.

You don't sound happy nor sad. Actually, you do sound like a robot with no feelings when you talk.

You were not like this before. Yes you are a quiet person, an introvert and reserved but never like this. You changed quite a lot after getting married. It's not by choice. You just have to adapt with your surroundings.

Living in a big ass mansion with more than fifty staffs and bodyguards but no one to talk to. You have no one to spend your time but yourself. Your world became, quiet.

Yes you do have a husband. You married him. But the man is never home most of the time. And when he is, he does not even make conversations with you unless it's related to his parents; asking you to do this and that. To be present here and there. Telling you what to say and not to talk about. Basically, he only talks to you when its about your deal. Yes, deal.

Funny isn't? You married bound by a contract but that's it. Just by contract. No love is involved.

You know this since the beginning. You signed the marriage certificate plus the contract. You are aware. But you never thought that this will be the kind of life you will have. Alone. But what choice do you have? He offered your parents a huge amount of money for your hands. A money that could let them live a good life even when they retire early. That's how big it is.

And you agreed to it, not because of the money, but because you thought; that maybe, just maybe this is the universe's doing. Him and you meeting under this circumstances but then in the end, getting to know each other and that Maybe...... maybe learn to love each other. But you're wrong. You and Yoongi have been married for more than a year now and its already had taken a toll on you emotionally and physically.

"Miss... Master is just a few minutes away..."

You pause brushing your hair, staring at yourself through the full body mirror. You are wearing the plain black, fitted halter dress that you received as a gift from him. You like this dress because it emphasizes your figure and shows off a little skin because of the slit. He gifted you this dress during your honeymoon. It's probably the cheapest clothing you have in your closet but for you this is the most valuable.

"Do you want me to fix your hair, Miss?"

You put down your hair brush. "No thank you."

Then you sit down and start to put on your shoes. But instead of heels, you put your white canvas shoes.

"Ahm, no heels today, Miss?" She sounds a bit concern

"No." You stand up to look at yourself one last time before going. "My feet hurts so I'll wear something comfy for now..."

"I understand." She hurriedly puts down the heels she had on hand and runs after me.

It is true that your feet is hurting. You've been wearing heels everyday when you go to work. 'Work' meaning is socializing with your husband's family friends and circle. You represent him for charities and parties he can't and won't attend. It's not everyday but these past few weeks, you've been busy. You were away too most of the days of the week. That's why you also barely saw your husband. He's been away for a week and when he came back you got busy too. And tonight, this is the first time you'll be eating dinner with him.

"Tell him to reschedule... I won't be available tomorrow. I have other plans."

You hear him talking to the phone when you enter the dinning room. He's so focused that he didn't even bat an eye when you sit down across him.

"What do you prefer, Miss?" The male servant asks. "We have tender lamb chops braised in wine. Served with pea puree and then wild sea bass with sautéed smoked bacon, red chicory, runner beans and red wine sauce."

"The latter, please..." You try to give a smile to show appreciation but then you halt as you hear your husband slam his phone on the table. It starlted you a bit.

And also, up to now he still hasn't dared to look at you. He just went on to eating his lamb after his phone call.

You want to watch him eat or even glance at him every now and then, just so you could update his image from your memory. You just want to see him, Even just a tiny bit silhouette of his face behind the boquet of flowers between the two of you.

'Fuck.' You curse in your mind.

You always ask yourself why do you even bother wanting to see him or make conversation with him when you know you don't mean anything to him. For him, you are just one of his staff. The only difference is that he talks to about life when he wants to because its part of your business with him. And to add to that, you're only his 'woman' when he needs to release stress. Meaning you two have sex when he needs it. There is no date or time. When he calls you or he comes to your room unannounced, that's it. Saying no is not an option.

But come to think of it, the last time you two had sex was quite a long time ago. It's been months.

'Does this mean... even in sex... he's not satisfied with me? Did he looked for a different woman to do it with?' You talk to yourself

"Leave us." He orders to the servants.

You didn't dare to glance up. You just kept yourself occupied by poking the fish on your plate.

"Your hair got longer..." he says making you pause

Your eyes goes up and see him looking straight at you."Ah... yes..." You answer before looking back down.

"Why ask for the fish if you're not going to eat it?"

You raise your head up again, "hmm?"

He tosses his one up like it's water. "Someone reported to me that you've been eating less lately."

"My appetite is fine... I'm just...off a bit..."

You put down your fork and try to think before you speak again. You can tell him you're tired because how can you be? You have all the assistant you need and more. Plus you are living a lavish life. You could ask for a massage, a facial or swim in the pool whenever you want. You have everything. Except him.

That. You can't mention. You can't dare ask for his attention. He'll get mad. You know he will. He said it in the very beginning of this relationship. That 'You are just his wife in papers. And never expect something more from him.'

"I'll be fine..."

You look straight back at him. You can finally see him clearly. He slightly moved to the side, giving you an amazing view of his face. He's still look as beautiful as you remember. His long hair, sharp eyes, pinkish lips and the scar.

"How's the auction?" He pulls out a cigarette from the pack he have on the table and lights it off. "You bought a vintage jewelry?"

"I did."

"How much is it?" He puffs smoke. His eyes are still fixated to you.

"It's a bit expensive... I'm sorry." You look down at your knotted fingers. "I got it for 1.5M."

"Reasonable."

"I tried to intimidate the other wives... but it didn't work..."

"You need to work on that."

"I will."

"But don't worry about the money... it's going to a good cause..." He stands up and puts off his cigarette on his used plate. "My mother liked the the jewelry set. She said, thank you."

Relief fills your heart and made you relax a bit. You are thankful that his mother liked the one you picked.

It's the only one you bought in the auction. The event is for charity and Yoongi gave you the go signal to throw money like dimes. He said you can buy anything you want.

You liked a lot of things there. Everything is grand, beautiful, meaningful and unique. But none of them bring joy to you. You don't need them so your heart can't afford to splurge.

"I'll go and get ready for bed..." he says as he stand by the window, looking outside.

"Ah... okay..." you look down at your plate and pick up your fork, to continue eating.

"When you finish..." he starts to walk towards the door, "Come to my room."

"Hmm?" You blink, confused. "Your... room?"

He stops just as he got outside the door and adds before totally closing the door "Ask the maid to braid your hair..."

'Braid your hair'. That means he wants to have sex.

"Sure..." you answer in a whisper though he's already not in the room.

***

You are finally walking in the hallway, on the way to his room. Barefoot and naked. Almost naked.

It has been a routine of you to braid your long hair and then just wear a silk robe over to cover your body. He likes it this way. He have particular things he likes and you follow them.

It's almost 9pm. All the staffs are now in their houses. Yoongi asked them to leave earlier so no one could hear and disturb us.

You took a deep breathe before you get ready to knock on his door. But then to your surprise the double door swings open and you see him, in his black jogger pants and a sheer robe over his naked body. "What took you so long?" His brows are furrowed.

"Sorry..." you lower your gaze from his beautiful face to his toned body.

"Get in." He orders, turning his back on you.

You slowly enter the forbiden room. It's like how you imagine it to be; spacious, dark and earth tone colors everywhere. But the things you've never imagined seeing in there are towers of books and comics on the floor. Then there is a gaming area too.

"Do you play?" He asks as he sits down at the corner of his massive bed.

You shake your head, "No... I'm sorry."

He's smoking again. "Come here." He orders as he puff the smoke in betwern his lips. You move closer to him, cautiously. "Why do you look nervous? It's not like it's our first time."

You are now standing in between his legs. "Sorry..."

He rolls his eyes slightly as he puts his cigarette onto the ashtray. "Why do you keep on apologizing?"

"I..." you pause and wait for him to look back at you. "I don't know."

He snorts, "whatever."

He takes off his robe and throws it somewhere behind you. You were about to do the same as his but he stops your hand from untying your robe.

"Are you on birth control?"

You shake your head. "No... we... I mean... you use condom..."

He didn't say anything after that. He just continued; picks up your braided hair thats lying on your chest and pushes it away. Your breathing picks up as you could feel and see him gazing at you. You even felt your body jerk a little when his finger tip brushed over your hard nipple. The sensation is on max. You needed him to touch you. You missed him touching you.

Yes, this relationship may not be real for him but to you, it's something. Plus, we all have our needs. And when it comes to sex, he delivers. More than you can imagine. And you like playing along with his needs.

He pulls the string keeping your robe on you and just watch it fall off your skin like feather.

You feel your cheeks heat up. You are exposed. He can see that you are already turned on. Your breast giving it all away.

"Come closer..." he orders and you follow.

His hands slides over your hips then goes up to your torso, for him to hold on to you. Hug you. He begins to suck one of your boobs like a baby. His eyes are fully close and his grasping onto your skin like he had been so hungry for so long. He's really enjoying it.

You as well.

"Ahh..." you exhale as you throw your head back. His tongue doing all the works and tickling your insides by just playing at your tip.

After a few more seconds, he stops and looks up at you. And you looking down at him.

"You're so beautiful..." you whisper to him as you run your fingertips over the scar on his face.

You lower your head to meet his lips. He welcomed your kiss like it was meant to be there five minute ago overdue. He is into it more than usual.

He finally gets naked like you. His length is hard and up. It's already leaking and looked very inviting for you to sit on. But you're too shy to make the first move.

You did try to sit on his lap though, legs spread out and core is so wet and ready; just a few inches away for his throbbing length. Then his hand goes in between and starts to rub you in the most sensual way possible.

"Holy shit!" You gasps breaking off from the kiss for a second just to take it all in.

A smug on his face can be seen catching you off guard. He had never reacted to you reacting to his touches like this before.

Your hips begin to rock just to feel his fingers on you.

"Y/n..." You look at him after hearing him say your name. "No condom today."

"O-okay..."

"Make me feel good." He says softly but sturn, pulling you close to his length.

The tip touching your opening already made you roll your eyes. He's so warm and big.

"F-fuck!" You cry as he eases himself into you. "Holy shit! Ugh!"

You start to move slowly, feeling it all in you, finding the pace and ryth. you think you could do all night but at the same time make him satisfied.

"You got tighter." He grunts as you go up and down on him while holding on to his shoulder for balance support.

"Holy fuck!" Your eyes starts to get filled with tears. You found your spot and his length is hitting it perfectly. "Fuck!"

You watch him close his eyes and his face showing how good you're making him feel. His broes is furrowed and his mouth open and hissing tiny breathes with you.

You can't believe it. Someone like you who was inexperience with sex, is now married and making your man look so damn sexy moaning.

"I'm gonna come." He hugs you tigh and begins to kiss you again. "I want to come in you." He opens his eyes and meets yours.

"Fucking come in me." You say

He then carries you as he stands up, changing your positions. Now you're the one on the bed and he's on top of you.

"I will rip you apart." He snarls.

Every fucking thrust is mean and yet satisfying. You feel like your insides shuffled from every hit. But it's not pain. It's heaven.

"Fuck!" He hisses as he climaxes with you.

The warmth inside you feels like a warm blanket during winter. It's felt relaxing.

He is breathing heavily, your hands are intertwined and his still on top and inside of you.

"Yoongi..." you say breathlessly as you admire him over you.

He moves in for a kiss. A soft gentle kiss. "Stay with me tonight..."

*****

Part 2