#i don't know how to get to an editing job and i need a break from trying to figure it out

[gideonisms]

tbh as soon as I got a job that paid me enough to live and wasn't dependent on getting people to like me or listen to me most of my brain problems just went away. I spent all that time trying to convince myself they wouldn't and I should try to get them fixed regardless but then I just. Immediately became functional upon receiving a consistent schedule, boring autism tasks, and Some Money

[seventh-district]

tfw you're trying to write a Genshin fic but ur memory is shit so u have to leave urself [REMINDERS] to come back and correct your spelling/figure out NPC names/scour the wiki to double-check character and story lore, because if u even so much as glance away from the google doc in the moment you'll lose all of your writing momentum

coughs [link to some other (better) excerpts from the fic since the post didn't make it into the tags and i'm too lazy to remake it]

[quitedisastrous]

my mom told me i almost got diagnosed with autism as a kid (she says i wasn't officially diagnosed because the diagnosis wouldn't have been useful so i guess my symptoms were so on the fence that they didn't push for it) which. like i'm 100% sure i have autism but holy mackerel. she couldn't have told me this as a kid???? it's a good thing i'm both logical and oblivious so i didn't spend too much time thinking "something is wrong with me. what the fuck is wrong with me" but like. what the fuck?

[postracehair]

breaking zone

max verstappen x reader | 1.1k

max teaches you how to use his racing simulator.

cw: flirty fun, allusions to sexy fun, a lot of vague statements about the sim cause i don't know a damn thing

a/n: this came from a request! thank you, anon! sorry about the three pics of max up top instead of something aesthetic. i couldn't help it!

EDIT: found this in my drafts, too. wrote it aaaaages ago. have it for the no-race weekend.

--

Max is the one who suggests it.

"I don't want to break it," you protest. "You need that thing."

He rolls his eyes. "You won't," he says. "I just want to show you how it works."

You're on his couch, reading. He's just finished a stream and clearly has some energy from it -- which is why he's suggested, out of the blue, that you try his racing simulator.

There are some drawbacks to going along with his plan. First of all, you're very comfortable where you are. Second of all, you really just want him to lie down with you and watch a movie. He is a potent mix of adorable and devastatingly attractive in his low-slung sweatpants and Puma t-shirt. He's even wearing the glasses that rarely see the light of day.

Damn him.

"Alright," you groan. "Fine."

Max grins with his victory and tugs you off the couch and into his office.

"I'm not going to be good at it. Remember how the Playstation adventure went?"

You'd tried playing F1 2024 on Max's console. It became clear very quickly that you did not quite know how to get the hang of turning around the circuit without hitting other cars.

"Eh, you'd get better if you practiced," Max says. It's a combination of the somewhat undeserved unwavering confidence he has in you because he loves you, and the underestimation of a regular person trying to do his, in fact, very difficult job. But you let him think so.

"Sure, Max."

He turns on the monitors and boots up the sim system. It's maybe the most intimidating setup you've ever seen. Three huge screens curving in a half-circle around the seat, and another smaller one on top of the center screen. The wheel is like an oval dinner plate with so many buttons you almost laugh. You've seen it before, of course, but the idea that you're going to use that thing? Hilarious.

"You're going to sit here," Max says, patting the back of the chair. "Let's start with that."

He beckons you over and you gingerly slide down into the mock-seat. You misjudge how low it is by a few inches and plop down with a yelp.

"Jesus," you say. "This is so much lower then I thought it would be. There go my fantasies of having sex in your car."

"Your what?" Max sputters. His cheeks are red and you wink up at him. "I have other cars," he adds.

"I know," you laugh. "Teach me this, first."

Max sighs like the most put-upon man in the world and crouches down next to the chair so he's more eye level. His voice is right by your ear when he says, "Now, put your feet on the pedals. Do yo see them?"

You look under the screens and see what he's talking about. You stretch your legs and find yourself in a much tighter position than you expected, knees close to your chest and back at an angle.

"This is not comfortable," you grumble. "My abs already hurt."

"All the training isn't just for show, you know," Max teases.

"Yeah, yeah," you say. "You're strong and handsome and a WorldChampion. I know. Now tell me how to work this thing."

You gesture at the nightmare of a steering wheel.

"Okay," Max begins. "So, left to right, you have the radio button --"

Max does what he does best: explain. You already knew he was a good teacher, but to be on the receiving end of his knowledge about the thing he loves most and is brilliant at is kind of thrilling. Worth getting up the couch for, at least. He explains the buttons, the knobs, the clutch paddles. The tyre status, the DRS, the flag indicators.

You retain probably a quarter of it.

"And this is set up differently by each team?" you mutter. "Shit, how do you guys do this?"

He smirks. "Well, not everyone does it very well."

"Max."

"Time and training, liefje," he says. "If you had both of those, you could learn."

"Good thing I like listening to you explain it," you sigh. "It's hot."

Max clears his throat. "Flirting isn't going to get you out of trying it at least once."

"Fire it up, then," you goad him. "We'll see what it might get me after."

His hand darts out to squeeze your thigh, golden hairs on his wrist shining in the sunlit room, and then he stands. He fiddles with the program for a minute and then all three screens light up and you're basically in a Formula 1 car.

"This is Zandvoort," he says.

"Your track?"

"Mhm," he hums. "Figured you could start somewhere you know."

Know is a bit of an exaggeration -- you've been there with him more than once and even walked the track with him during race weekend.

"If you say so," you mutter. You look behind you and find him standing with his arms crossed, smirk firmly in place.

"Well, start it up, then."

As you predicted, the entire venture goes horribly. If this was a real car, they'd take away your license and ban you from setting foot on a racetrack ever again.

But this is your boyfriend's racing simulator. And he is a world champion as well as in love with you, so it's not as bad as that. He's patient -- more than you expected him to be, honestly -- and gentle with his instructions. He doesn't chastise you for things you don't know, instead coaching you to think about one thing at a time. As the laps go on you manage to achieve a low-level form of cohesion between your feet on the pedals and your steering.

It's fun. It's fun to have Max at your shoulder, his constant stream of commentary mingled with praise for your incredibly mediocre ability to follow his directions. It's fun to understand the thing he does all the time, the thing he is so good at, a little better. Sitting in the chair is a little like being inside his head.

You finish another lap almost in stitches from how hard you're laughing, Max's chuckles making it even worse.

"That certainly does not deserve a podium," you say, gasping. "God, get me out of this thing."

You pull your legs from the pedals, abdominal muscles aching, and Max maneuvers himself so it can grab your forearms and tug you up.

"I think you deserve a reward, anyway," Max says. You face him and find a neutral expression apart from a quirked eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah?" you muse. "What would that be?"

He tugs you a little closer. "I can think of some things."

Your noses brush. "Like what?" you ask, a little breathless. "Do you want to show me a lap?"

"No," he whispers, lips so close they brush yours as he talks. "I want to show you something else."

He grabs your hand and tugs to towards the bedroom. 

[irisintheafterglow]

the long-awaited part 2 to this drabble

"can i get an extra large of the black shirt?"

"of course, give me one moment. i'll be right with you," you reply with robotic politeness over your shoulder as you shove a cardboard box of collectible hats behind the tablecloth. foot traffic has significantly slowed, allowing you to take care of some inventory tasks that were hard to complete when you were bombarded with requests for the limited-edition holographic poster boasting the olympics' host city. you stand from your crouching position, grab an extra-large from the crumpled pile, and finally turn to face your customer.

the customer wearing a surgical mask with two black moles above his eyebrow. you suspect his jacket is the same one that stopped everyone in their tracks earlier in the day, when you obliviously asked him to walk you past a creep.

men's volleyball team - sakusa kiyoomi.

"well?" sakusa asks after a long moment of awkward silence, the slightest hint of amusement in his voice at your shock. "are you gonna hand me the shirt or do i need to grab it myself?"

"you...you!" your senses come slamming back into you like a freight train and you're suddenly overcome with a mix of embarrassment and indignance. "why didn't you tell me who you were?"

"you never asked," he says with a shrug and a teasing glint in his eyes. the shirt stays tight in your grasp, if only because the feel of the fabric is the one thing reassuring you that this interaction was truly happening. "plus, you seemed a little preoccupied with other things." you nod dumbly in lieu of answering and fish a paper bag from below the table.

"my boss just about had a heart attack over your damn back," you inform him while you drop the shirt into the bag. you don't bother charging him for it, seeing as he's one of the athletes and all, and you'd prefer for him to forget you exist as quickly as possible.

"i don't know what the big deal is. it's just a jacket."

"'just a jacket,' sure," you scoff, "and you're just some guy throwing a ball around." the small printer next to the register makes a whirring noise as it attempts to dispense a receipt, only for it to jam and print incomprehensible blots of ink. you curse your shitty luck under your breath.

"everything okay?"

"apparently my brain isn't the only thing that's broken right now," you mutter, and you're surprised when he breathes a quiet laugh. "don't bask in my suffering."

"i'll bask in whatever i find funny, thanks," he shoots back and you glare in spite of your furiously warm face. "what happened?"

"the printer broke. it's been on its last legs all day," you frown. you're too busy trying to remember how to replace the paper roll to notice how he glances around before deciding to remove his mask and tuck it into his pocket. when you look up next, your face goes from warm to burning. who knew your one-time bodyguard was also the prettiest man you'd ever laid eyes upon? "you know what? you can just take the bag, i wasn't going to charge you anyway."

"why would i do that? you're not doing your job very well if you just let me steal a shirt." oh, so he thinks he's funny. from what you'd watched in brief clips of his interviews, sakusa seemed too stoic to have any ounce of humor in his body; yet, here you were, getting teased by a god-tier athlete about breaking the register at your summer job.

"it's not stealing, it's...gifting," you correct slowly. "i made you a promise, remember? you made sure i didn't get kidnapped in broad daylight, and i give you a shirt in return. simple."

"but i need a receipt," he retorts dryly.

"why? just take the bag, please," you say a little forcefully, expecting him to take the hint and leave. your first mistake, however, was challenging an olympic volleyball player to a competition of wits and patience.

"no, i don't think i will," he replies, pushing the bag back across the table to you. "a receipt, one more thing, and i'll go."

"well, you're gonna be here for a little bit because i don't know how i'm supposed to get you a receipt when the printer is broken," you surrender with no idea what he was trying to do. "i won't apologize, though, because you could just take the bag and go."

"allowing me to steal and refusing to apologize. gold star customer service." his sarcasm pulls a sudden, ugly bark of laughter that seems to increase the temperature of your face even more. "hmm. cute."

"what?"

"nothing. no receipt, then?"

"like i said, unless you wanna wait until my manager comes down from the balcony level merch stand and fixes the printer, you can just take the shirt and go. i appreciate you walking me earlier, really, so it's no hassle for me if one measly shirt goes missing."

sakusa opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but suddenly snaps his head to the side in the direction of a bright camera flash. one flash turns to four, and he hastily pulls his mask back over his face, cursing under his breath. you watch, perplexed, as his cocky bravado retreats just in time for a half-dozen journalists to cut around the nearest security guard and surround him. in a blink, microphones and cameras are forced into his face and questions in six different languages are hurriedly spewed at him. if you weren't already reaching across to put some distance between him and the tabloid writers, you wouldn't hear him mutter---

please get them away.

"alright, we're done here," you announce to no one in particular. your voice is more commanding than you expected it to be, enough to make the reporters pause and give you an opening to grab the crook of sakusa's elbow, beelining for the staff-only door. the guard posted there is quick to open the door for you and shut it, effectively cutting off the growing horde of journalists. "are you okay?" you ask as you continue to lead him toward what you remember as the nearest quiet break room. you don't have time to think about the flex of his arm under your hand or how he follows you with absolute trust.

"yeah," he answers curtly, his irritation obvious but seeming to diminish the longer you're holding his arm. you reach the empty linoleum-lined room and unlatch your fingers from him to shut the door, feeling a void-like sensation that you can't figure out. "sorry about that," he says to fill the tense silence after you're no longer shoulder-to-shoulder.

"don't worry about it. we're even now," you reassure him and that makes his shoulders relax a little bit. "you need water? a snack? day-old coffee that could probably burn through metal?"

"no, just some peace," he sighs, exasperatedly collapsing into the nearest uncomfortable chair.

"i see." you blink and suddenly feel like you're intruding on his space, fitting in like an elephant in a shoebox. "uh, i'll leave you here and make sure no one else comes--"

"i'd prefer if you stayed," he cuts in and you pause, your hand hovering above the door handle. "if you're able."

"are you sure?"

"only if you can," he says too quickly to be normal, avoiding your eyes. "you don't need to if you don't want to." you want to laugh at your situation, being stuck in an empty room with the hottest man you've ever laid eyes upon, and your nerves are more heightened than a deer in headlights. (you don't know that he's ridiculously embarrassed that the one time he talks to someone he's interested in, it's interrupted by cameras)

"i can stay, yeah," you manage and he's visibly relieved at your answer, at ease enough to again peel off his mask. his annoyance seemed to dissipate in the course of your short conversation, and an odd expression of contentment is its replacement. "you'll have to explain to my manager why i had to take off early, though."

"breaking the printer, refusing to apologize, and abandoning your shift. you cause a lot of problems, evidently," he teases when you settle into a metal chair beside him.

"only around you, evidently," you quip and are rewarded by the tiniest pull at the corner of his mouth. "i'm sorry i wasn't able to get you that shirt, though...and your precious receipt." he shrugs.

"don't really need either anymore."

"how so?"

"hunting down the shirt was just a way to talk to you again," he declares like he didn't even notice how his statement made your face heat once more. he notices, just like he noticed how you stuttered every time he started a conversation with you, how you smile and laugh like an idiot when he says something that catches you off guard, how your fingers felt electric at every point where you held his elbow. "and the receipt was to ask you to write your number, but i guess i can just ask now if you wanna grab dinner."

when you say yes, he hopes you can't tell just how much he already likes you.

[mindless-existence1]

Kpop Demon Hunters

Humanized!Jinu x Manager!Reader

Summery: Jinu has a thing for the Saja Boys Manager whos friends with the Huntrix girls. Huntrix and Saja Boys work their magic and get you guys to confess

Authors note: Pretend Rumi and Jinu never had a thing pls 🙏 also requests are open for kpop demon hunters, check my page for more info.

Edit pt2 has been posted!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Jinu started the band he didnt really think about it fir the long run. Once the hunmoon was broken and Huntrix eas taken down the band would disban. But the hunmoon didnt break and now hes in a rising star kpop group.

With no experience whats so ever.

Thats when Huntrix stepped in as the experienced idols they are and got the hook up for the Saja Boys. Their good friend who was a recent jobless manager, you!

The last group you worked with spontaneously disbanded so you were left without a job. Not that you were too upset the group you were with kinda sucked.

So when you heard your besties found you a new group the hot upcoming Saja Boys you jumped at the opportunity. Honestly it was an amazing gig, you got to hang out with a group of hottest that are actually nice? And they treated you like royalty because you saved them from going under real quick.

You made sure their media coverage was good, they were ready for any shows, etc etc. It wasnt too hard to keep them at the top, already famous from the start. But they werent exactly good at the industry part.

You liked all the guys they were nice considering their demon origin, Rumi and the girls had given you the run down on the whole situation and you were already aware of them being hunters. You bonded with Jinu especially though.

Maybe it was the fact he used to be human, or that he was so nice to you, or that he was willing to hang out the most. The other guys were interested in learning about humans and their ways but Jinu wanted his humanity back and you were helping him.

Showing him how the world has changed and what new wonders there are. Your admiration for the man slowly turned into a full blown crush in a matter of months. It was blatantly obvious, at least to the girls... and Romance who said he'd keep it a secret but if you wanted advice you know where to find him.

You just couldn't believe someone like Jinu would be into someone like you, his manager. But the girls couldn't take it anymore so- during their much needed break- they had an intervention with you at a sleep over.

You and the girls were all in the bath house, Mira and Rumi had been chilling but Zoey was pleading with you. "Y/n please you are such a catch!" She shook your shoulders. "Zoey, Zoey! I know, I know im just doubting the fact hes into me." You say.

"Oh no he totally is." Mira deadpans. "What do you mean?" You ask confused. "What do you mean what do I mean its soooooo obvious." Mira answers. Zoey and Rumi nod their heads with her words and adding sounds of agreement.

"Nuh uh no chance." The girls collectively groan "Common y/n!" They all collectively say. "You have to talk to him trust us!" Zoey pleads with you and finally you stop her "ok ok ok ok calm down ill- ill talk to him" they all side eye you with a knowing look "I promise."

Now unbeknownst to you the boys were having a similar conversation themselves. It was after practice, you had just left to go hang out with the girls and Jinu just so happened to be caught. He was the last to say good bye and sent you out with a wave.

He had watched you walk away with a longing look in his eyes. "Isn't Romance supposed to be the lover boy here?" Abby teased him with a question, leaning against him his elbow on Jinus shoulder.

"Cut it out Abby, he cant help he's got a crush." Baby teased, the others walking up to where Abby and Jinu stood. "I don't know what you guys are talking about." Defensively Jinu held up his hands.

The guys all look at him with a "be so serious" look. "I think I know what im talking about a bit more than you do," Romance spoke up, "and I say you've got a crush." Jinu rolled his eyes while the others nodded their heads.

"He's right theres no point in denying it." Abby told Jinu, Romance was working over time to keep his mouth shut about 3your3 crush. But he gave you his word and he wouldnt breja that trust.

"Well what am I supposed to do about it?" Jinu asked, more of a rhetorical question then anything. But Baby just rolled his eyes, "is this guy dumb? Ask her out idiot!" Jinu shoock his head.

"I cant shes our 3manager3 did you forget?" Jinu said. "What that got to do with anything? It'll be fine trust us." Romance reasoned with him, "it is quite painful to watch you two" Mysteyr some up from behind the boys.

"See even Mystery agree with us!" Baby said his voice raised a bit. Jinu groaned, gently slapping his face and dragging his hand down. "Fine fine I will." Jinu said after some contemplation.

"Swear it!" Romnace pointed at him. "I swear." The guys nodded and started walking away towards the door to their rooms. "You should say something about her being your soda pop-" Baby started but Jinu elbowed him in the side.

"Shut up" jinu said, but he turned his head to hide the blush creeping up to his cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If enough people ask for pt2 where they confess I'll write it

[queers-gambit]

Adore Her, Dior Her

prompt: ( requested ) what good is having all that money if he can't spend it on the woman he loves?

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 4.3k+

warnings: author foams at the mouth for Mafia AUs, overwhelming fluff, cursing, not edited.

"That's the one. That's one we should get!"

"You've said that about the past three dresses, Buck!" You groaned, smoothing your hands over the skirt. "We need to narrow this down, okay? The wedding's in a month!"

"Why did we even agree to go?"

You glared, "'Cause we love my brother and we're supporting him."

"But she's just so - "

"Jen. Her name's Jen."

Bucky nodded, leaning back on the cushioned chair, "Well, Jen's just wrong for him. Literally the definition of toxic."

"Does it count if they're toxic together? To each other?" You sighed, standing on the pedestal and turning to look in the three mirrors beside the dressing room.

"Of course it does," he stood, buttoning his suit jacket out of habit. He approached you, head cocking as he looked your body up and down to get the full view of the gown you tried on. "You're really okay letting him marry her? Turn this way a bit, baby, lemme see the front."

You scoffed, but took his offered hand and twisted on the small platform towards him, "You were there at Christmas, he doesn't listen to reason. So, if Daniel's convinced Jen's for him, as his sister, my only job is be supportive."

"They literally abuse each other," he pointed out.

"Well, he's not changing his mind. Okay? It's been three years, he won't budge, whenever someone brings up them breaking up, he goes into hiding - so, I don't know what else I can do," your hands slapped your thighs when you shrugged, "except just be there for him. Now, focus, please, help me narrow a dress down."

He shook his head as you turned to face the mirrors again, "Actually, you know what? I don't think anything in this store is for us."

The attendant perked up and scurried over, rushing, "Oh, well, we have a much larger selection in the back, Mr. Barnes - "

"That won't be necessary, Barbra, thank you, though," he nodded. "Doll," his hand planted on your waist, head over your shoulder as you still looked yourself over in the mirrors, "go get changed, I know where we need to go."

"Bucky, no, there's plenty of options here," you argued, twisting on the wee little pedestal to face him again. "We don't need to drop a stack on a dress - "

"You let me worry about the price tag," he smirked, leaning in to peck your cheek. "Just go change, pretty girl, c'mon. Step-to!"

You offered Barbra, the attendant, an apologetic smile as you shuffled back into the changing room; quickly stripping from the dress. When you exited in your street clothes, Bucky was tipping the aged woman for her effort in gathering your options, but the moment he saw you, his hand was extending to hold yours tightly.

"What was wrong with that store?" You asked when you stepped onto the noisy and busy street to approach the sleek, tinted car Bucky drove for day-to-day errands.

"We're not shopping at David's fucking Bridal."

"You literally drove us here," you laughed.

"Yeah, and then I had a much better idea," he smirked at you, unlocking the car and opening your passenger door. "C'mon, princess, just gotta trust me."

"Last time you said that - "

"That wasn't my fault," he groaned, cheeks flaring red in embarrassment. When you opened your mouth to retort, he rushed, "Aht, nope, don't say shit. C'mon, I'm taking you somewhere special so get that pretty ass in the car."

He grinned when you laughed and did as bid, feet safely inside when he closed the door after you were settled. Bucky easily jogged around the back of his car, New York busy this time of year as traffic flew past on the street and forced Buck slow. He dropped into the driver's seat, sniffling slightly.

"Reminds me," Bucky smirked as he pulled onto the street, "how would you feel about us going to Aspen this winter?"

You sighed, "Why?"

"You wanna stay in New York for Christmas?"

"Well, yeah! It's so magical."

"Okay, so, we can go over New Years?"

You sighed, "You know, we don't have to go anywhere..."

"Sweetheart," he cleared his throat, "I actually have some business in Aspen, this will just help determine when I schedule the meetings for."

"Oh," you nodded slowly.

He sighed, "I know my job isn't orthodox, but business is business, right, sugar?”

"No, yeah, yeah, I get it. It sounds kinda nice, maybe we can go skiing."

"You know how to ski?"

"No, but I'm sure someone in Aspen could help teach me."

Bucky grinned. The drive was full of easy conversation, neither you nor Bucky dwelling on his business dealings, always feeling as if it was taboo given his station in the Mafia. So when he pulled up in front of a designer store, you gawked. "Now, if we can't find something here - "

"Um, absolutely not," you laughed. "Bucky, I can't even afford to walk into a place like that!"

"Good thing I'm paying," he smirked. He assisted you out of the car, tossing his keys to one of his security guards who had been following in a separate, tinted vehicle. When you both entered the dimly lit store, you were blown away by the gorgeous minimalist design; warm lighting, open floor space, and racks of different clothing options.

"Ah, Mr. Barnes! Hello, hello, hello!" A new attendant greeted with more enthusiasm than you would've greeted any of your clients, approaching you two. She shook your boyfriend's hand vigorously, "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, "Looking for a dress to wear to a wedding."

She offered you a forced smile, telling your boyfriend swiftly with her teeth on full display, "You came to the right spot!"

"See?" Bucky smirked at you. "All right, Valeria, what's first?"

Valeria waved you both onward to a private changing room, offering complimentary sparkling waters, coffees, teas - even offering to go retrieve anything you two would want from the Starbucks down the block. Valeria took your measurements and dress size, making idle chit-chat with Bucky and making it obvious he was a regular in the store, then scurrying off to collect an armful of options.

"This is - wow," you nodded in impression, petting the material of the display dresses hung along the wall.

"Like it?"

"It's growing on me," you eased with a small shrug, hearing Bucky chuckle and for his phone to chime. You perused the place as he became glued to the little device, sat in front of the dressing rooms.

Valeria returned with another attendant carrying coffees. "Right this way, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria directed you into a changing room, missing the giddy look you sent Bucky over your shoulder at being called his wife. "All right, so," she sighed, hanging up the dresses she selected, "I think these are modest enough for a wedding, but still glamorous to turn a few heads."

You hummed, "They're kinda short, don't know if that's the energy I want to be giving off at my brother's wedding."

"They'll fit differently once on but we can always accommodate," she assured, pulling one from the hanger. "Here we go," she assisted you, zipping you in and looking you over. "Oh, it's just darling on you! Look at that, not a single hair outta place, right?"

You giggled lightly, "It's certainly pretty."

"Shall we show Mr. Barnes?"

You nodded, following her out to reveal Bucky sitting on a plush loveseat, sipping his coffee. His eyes widened when he saw you, nodding, "Oh, yeah. This is what I'm talking about."

"Hush, we're only buying one."

His eyes rolled, "I'll buy the whole damn store if I want."

"You don't own it already? Hm," you teased, perking your brows.

"Keep sayin' shit, I'll cut a check right now - "

"Bucky," you tisked, moving to the runway mirrors. "It's a little tight, isn't it?"

"It's snug," Valeria agreed. "Is there a color scheme for the wedding?"

"Um," you paused, "I'm not sure - I just know it's in winter, like, in a month."

"Maybe a pretty powder blue?" She looked to Bucky, who nodded. "Or how about a pale green? Like an olive tone?"

"She looks gorgeous in anything," Bucky smirked from behind you, taking another pull of his coffee.

"What about that brown number?" You asked, ignoring the way his compliments made you feel like the only girl he's ever seen in the world.

"You have a very good eye, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria nodded. She asked her coworker to go find your size, taking you back into the dressing room. You narrowed down the options without changing again, not wanting anything black or dark since it was a wedding and not a funeral. Though, you knew Bucky would disagree.

You showed your boyfriend a pretty little green dress, but he shook his head. "I thought the black was nice," he told you.

"I'm not wearing black to a wedding," you laughed lightly. "It screams bad luck to me, don't you think?"

"Think it's more of a statement, sayin' the entire event is a sham and they shouldn't be doing this," Bucky snickered, the other attendant, Laura, returning with a pretty brown dress. "That satin?" He asked, rubbing the material when it was presented to you both.

"It's very fashionable now," Laura nodded, "and it's not too dark."

"Since when is it a rule to not wear dark colors to a wedding? I miss the memo?" Buck leaned back to his seat.

All three women offered him a small look, you chuckling under your breath before Valeria was leading you back into the changing room. "If I may, Mrs?" She spoke softly, "I've known Mr. Barnes for a number of years but he's never brought anyone into the store. Then, one day, he tells me he needs a new suit because the 'girl of his dreams' had agreed to a date, and every time since then?" She smiled softly at you, "He's sang your praises. I'm very honored you're trusting me with helping you today."

"Oh," you blinked in shock, giggling nervously, "well, thank you very much, Valeria, now I know why his suits are always top of the line." She waved you off, making you add, "And for the record, I'm not Mrs. Barnes, guess that'd be his mother, wouldn't it?"

"Oh," her eyes widened, gasping softly, "oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I just - he talks so highly about you - "

"No, it's okay, it's okay," you rushed, patting her arm. "I actually kind of like it..."

She hummed, zipping you into another dress, "You know, he's the reason my girl and I are together."

"Really? How'd that happen?"

Valeria chuckled, "He's very bold, your man. We were getting coffee one day, discussing his wardrobe for a business trip he had in Hong Kong, when my lady walked in. I went all silly and stupid, and Mr. Barnes just," she shook her head with a fond smile, "brazenly asked her out for me, in front of the whole shop."

"Oh, Jesus, yeah - sounds like him."

"Well, luckily, it worked, else I don't think he would've come back for my assistance. I was so embarrassed, you have no idea, but my lady - Charlie - thought it was charming and cute. Mr. Barnes hasn't let me live it down since. Says he demands an invite to the wedding." She met your eyes through the mirror, offering, "And I'd be really happy to give him a plus one, hmm?"

"You're so sweet," you whispered, turning to survey the dress. You spent the better part of three hours there, trying on dress after dress, nitpicking almost everything as you just weren't sure what to wear. Bucky wasn't much help, he just approved everything.

So, it was up to Valeria and Laura to help you; bringing out iPads and design books, trying to piece something together that best fit your comfort and the vibe of the wedding. You didn't want to look like a walking money bag since your family wasn't by any means wealthy, thinking it would be a slap to their faces since your boyfriend could spend his money without ever thinking about it. You didn't want to give your family any reason to talk behind your back.

"I like the brown satin," Laura offered softly, looking you over in the mirror. "But the blue is just wow, it really looks like it was made for you, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but I think the green compliments her eyes more," Valeria cocked her head in thought. "Are you wearing your hair up or down?"

"Up," you answered, trying to mimic the look by pulling your locks off your shoulders, "with thin jewelry, I think."

"Diamonds?"

"Pearls, if I can find a dress that looks nice with it," you smiled, seeing Bucky's reflection in the mirror watching you with a soft smile on his face; head titled in thought before his phone chimed again and warranted his attention. "Maybe we could try the pink dress?" You looked to the two women for an opinion.

"No," Valeria shook her head, "it washes you out. And pink in winter? Oh, sweetie, I'd lose my job if I let you leave here with that. Guess that means you'll have to come back in the spring, right?"

You grinned in response as Laura chimed in, "The green's actually really nice, but the brown looks much better with your body type." Then she turned to Bucky, prompting, "Mr. Barnes? Final decision - which dress?"

Bucky paused, musing, "Lemme see them all again, get one last taste. It's between the green and brown numbers?"

"Or the blue," Valeria nodded. "C'mon, sweetie," she offered her hand to help you off the wee runway you were perched on in front of the magnificent mirrors.

"You look sensational in them all, doll, how the hell am I supposed to choose just one?" Bucky teased, his canines on display from the broad grin that stretched his lips.

"You'll find a way," you answered.

"Awh, telling me Mr. Big-Tough-Manly-Business-Man who makes impossible decisions everyday can't choose a simple piece of fashion?" Valeria tacked on.

"You guys can't pick either!" He laughed, "And you do a helluva lot more shopping than I do!"

Laura, Valeria, and you paused to exchange looks, you pointing at Bucky and relenting in a drawl, "Touché."

When you were escorted back into the dressing room, Laura waiting outside the door for your privacy with Valeria, Bucky sat back on the plush loveseat and extended his one arm over the back of the seating. He smirked to himself, shaking his head as if in disbelief - but he was. Bucky was in disbelief.

How did a rugged Mob boss find himself here? Watching his girl like a private fashion show?

His whole life, all he knew was turmoil, pain, drama, and fear. He knew he would inherit his father's well-built organization after he passed and knew what this life would entail; having no preconceived notions about a quiet life. He knew he would have to be tougher than tough, adaptable, intelligent, and confident in his role as the head of the 3-6 Brooklyn Mob. Knowing the idea of a family was farfetched, knowing he'd never know the simple pleasures in life, that he would constantly be on the move - in-able to form real, sentimental, emotional connections. He knew, in this life, he'd remain alone for everyone's best interest and safety, indulging in a series of flings and one-off relationships that couldn't haunt him.

Yet they did. These encounters reminded Bucky how alone, how stranded, how isolated, how different he was. Instead of satisfying an unquenchable thirst, these fleeting partners became heavy anchors to Bucky's reality and reminded him that there was no such thing as love - nor was there any room or logic.

And then... He met you. Bucky's lips silently spread in a grin as he remembered meeting you at a bakery; purchasing the last slice of coconut cream pie to your absolute chagrin. He thought you were gorgeous, something ethereal and unobtainable; authentic, raw, and unfiltered - things his one night stands could never measure up to. So, he offered you the slice of pie if it meant giving him your number as currency.

After that, it was impossible for Bucky to consider ever being alone again because you were the sun; center of the universe that drew everyone into your orbit. He was smitten, content, excited to date you, turned on by the fact you had no idea who he was - a rare occurrence in the city. You were pure as fresh snow; sweet, kind, affectionate, attentive, and borderline overly empathetic.

Bucky knew he was in love with you after only a few weeks when he had shown up at your apartment, dripping in blood. You didn't panic like he feared you would, just checked up and down the hallway before yanking him into your home. You cleaned him up, tending to wounds, offering a safe space for him to relax in; making mindless conversation to help distract him from the pain he endured.

And now? Now, Bucky was sat in Dior, giving his opinion on your wedding guest dress; wondering how he allowed himself to get to this point of being domestic. Bucky wasn't a man to give his opinion on dresses, what color nail polish you should use, to send fresh bouquets of flowers every other week. Yet here he was, sipping too-expensive coffee, deciding between brown, green, and blue dresses that he never would've batted an eye at.

However, that was just the domino effect you caused in his life. You were sweeter than apple pie, becoming Bucky's one tether to reality that saved him from losing himself in this dark, criminal mindset he adopted. You didn't know it, but you had transformed Bucky from a brooding asshole into a boyfriend; someone you were proud to claim and never hid from - never shied away from. He admired the way you came to terms with his job, knowing it was a hard pill to swallow and yet noting the way you just accepted him as he was.

Bucky realized in that moment that he adored this new aspect of life after thinking it was impossible to obtain. He adored sitting here, offering opinions on dresses, his security left outside instead of hovering over him like a brutal reminder he was seedy. He loved having you to come home to, he loved being part of your mundane world - a person who went to weddings, who drank Starbucks, who asked her boyfriend his opinion about how she looked in dresses. Who thought bouquets of flowers were romantic, who baked him homemade cakes for his birthday, who worked overtime in order to afford his Christmas or birthday presents, who walked to the takeout place instead of paying for delivery.

All that you are, Bucky adored deeply; falling in love with you each and every single day. All he wanted to do was protect you, share his life with you, even pick out outfits for weddings you would attend. He knew if any of the men in his organization knew the extent of his affection, they'd surely weaponize it against him... Or at the very least, tease him relentlessly. Yet he never cared, knowing you wanted to be loved out loud instead of hidden away in a storage closet; but did care if it meant his enemies could use you to get to him. It was a risk, an occupation hazard for loved ones to become targets, but that only made Bucky so much more protective of you.

Laura glanced at Bucky and saw the fond smile soften to let his teeth trap his bottom lip, smiling at the Mob boss looking soft, content, smitten being there. She knew most boyfriends would never put this much effort into helping their girlfriends in the fashion department, thinking he must've been truly in love to look so at-ease. Plus his enthusiasm through the entire ordeal assured her that Bucky was genuinely enjoying himself.

Once again, you slipped into the blue dress and showed Bucky. He hummed and snapped a photo, asking you to turn this way and that. Then you tried the green dress, him taking another photo, and finally, you changed into the brown satin dress, facing Bucky for his final verdict.

Bucky hummed in contemplation, swiping through the photos. "You know what?" He asked, looking at you with a grin. "You look delectable in everything, I can't decide - so, let's just get them all."

"Bucky, no - "

"We'll take all three, Valeria, please," Bucky interrupted you.

You waited until the attendants left you alone with a knowing look shot in your direction to ring up the desired purchases, hip cocking and hands to your hips. With an underlying exasperation, you questioned, "What the hell, Buck?"

He grinned and stood, again, buttoning his suit jacket, "C'mon, princess, this is fun, right? Being spoiled?." His arms wrapped around your waist, looking down at you as if you hung the very sun that sucked him into your orbit. "What's the point of all my money if I can't spend it on you? Huh?"

"You can save it for a rainy day?"

He shrugged, "Not necessary."

"Maybe pay to send some underprivileged kids to go to college?"

"Well, there's a thought," your boyfriend mused, "but I already do that through the Stark Foundation. I sponsor a few scholarships."

"Okay, well, buying all three still doesn't help me decide what to wear," you chuckled, you mimicked his action and wrapped your arms tightly around the base of his ribs. Due to his height, your head had to tip backwards to meet his eyes with a small smile.

You could look at this gorgeous man all day, everyday if God ever permitted such an act. Why wasn't dating a paid activity? You'd be the top earner with the way you were absolutely enthralled with all Bucky Barnes was. And what an honor it was to earn his mutual adoration.

"We'll figure it out at home. Gotta get you moving in the material to make an honest judgement," he offered softly. "But you look gorgeous in all of them, baby, seriously. Like, drop dead gorgeous that makes every girl brim with jealousy. Shit, doll, you're gonna run the risk of outshining the bride."

You sighed, "Look, Buck, I appreciate what you're doing, but three designer dresses? Where the hell am I ever gonna wear them? What kinda event calls for overpriced fashion statements?"

Buck eased with a soft expression, "Guess I'll just have to take you out so you can put them all to good use, huh?"

"That's not a solution!"

"Is to me," he let a hand drift to roughly palm the meat of your ass cheek over the brown satin; another symptom of him being whipped, his comfort over public displays of affection. "Seriously, doll, how the hell did I get so lucky?"

"Hmm?"

"Just look at you, my girl," he chuckled lightly, "radiant in anything you put on. It's almost unfair, makes me wonder what I did so right to have someone like you I can call my own. I can't wait to show you off in those dresses, just look so Goddamn tantalizing. I mean, damn, baby, I'm gonna have to fight off men with my gun and the jealous women with a stick."

"You do realize we're already dating, you don't have to lay it on so thick."

"And you do realize being with you makes me the luckiest bastard in the city, right? Least I can do is spoil you, I've already got everything else I've ever wanted."

Your heart swelled at his words, sighing gently as your chin rested on his chest to keep your head tilted. Softly, you admitted, "I don't think you're the lucky one, pretty sure the honor's mine. I couldn't ask for anything more in a man - in a partner. I'm so fucking in love with you, Bucky, it honestly doesn't make sense."

He nodded, asking, "Know what else doesn't make sense?"

"What's that?"

"You refusing those dresses, I mean, c'mon!" He laughed, you groaning and releasing your hold; making his tighten to prevent you from escaping. "Those dresses look phenomenal on you, you really gonna reject my gift? C'mon, you know the rules, doll, if you adore her, you Dior her." You were ready to retort, but Bucky smiled, "For the record, I think you should wear the blue dress to the wedding."

"Blue it is," you smiled, lifting onto your toes and hooking a hand around the back of his neck to meet his lips in a scratchy kiss. "Thank you so much, baby," you whispered, feeling his lips spread against yours before he brought you back in for a much-more passionate kiss. "Hm!" You hummed, pulling away to scold, "But no more, all right? You spend too much money on me - I mean, who the hell needs three designer dresses?"

"You do," he whispered, "you deserve all of this, sugar, and I'll do what I can t'spoil you the way you should be. Might as well get used to it, I got no plans on stopping."

Your eyes rolled in good faith, excusing yourself, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Lemme get changed and we can - "

"Nah," he shook his head, petting the skin of your back exposed from the brown satin dress with his fingertips, "know what? Stay in the dress, I wanna take you out and show you off."

Your lips found his in a breath-sucking kiss, trying to convey your appreciation and giddiness over never having been spoiled like this in your entire life - feeling grateful, refreshed, and privileged for a man like Bucky in your life. Whatever greater force there was in this world, you thanked repeatedly for choosing you to love this man and for this man to love you. There was no telling what you did to deserve him, but blessed be those heavenly powers.

requesting rules and masterlist

MCU masterlist

[baronessvonglitter]

Bad Santa

sleazy mall Santa!Joel Miller x fem!Reader | wc: 2.3K

Summary: Frantically seeking relief during the Christmas rush, the Santa at your local mall is the last person you'd expect to help.. and the only one who can.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is a hot and horny mess and wears a short skirt. Mall Santa is a perv, but he's your perv. Semi-public masturbation (f). Squirting. Cockwarming. Semi-public sex. Infidelity. Unprotected piv. Oral (m & f receiving). Analingus (f receiving). Possibly illegal use of a candy cane. Creampie. Come swallowing. Santa Joel is a menace and a sleaze but that's what we all need, right?

Author's Note: one of the first things I learned about @strang3lov3 is that we share a deep love for Bad Santa (and Billy Bob in general) so this is written in her honor. Bug, I hope you enjoy Santa Joel, and don't forget to leave out some cigs and whiskey for him on Xmas Eve. (And the latest edition of Hustler. He's an old-school magazine man.)

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You're home on Christmas break from college and all you want to do is fuck the boyfriend you left behind and have been faithful to for four long, painful months. But the only thing on Derek's mind is doing last minute Christmas shopping.

The mall on Christmas Eve is the last circle of hell.

Derek guides you through the crowd. "Sleigh Ride" plays over the speakers, tinny, bright and cheery. You hate it. You're impatient. You're horny. You need to find a way to get him alone, even just a fingerbang would suffice. For now.

You pass by the huge Christmas tree in the center where the mall Santa waits with bored-looking elves. There's no line, which is surprising given it's the last day for photo ops.

Santa watches as you pass, cheap plastic beard hanging off, revealing gray scruff, his red suit wrinkled and stained. You track his gaze roving over your figure, fully concentrating on the jiggle of your ass under the short skirt you'd picked out in the hopes of getting a quickie.

"God damn," you hear him mutter. "Merry Christmas, babygirl." he calls out.

You glance back and see him pull the beard down, wiggling his tongue at you in a lewd manner.

Fucking sleaze. But your pussy is wet and throbbing, and this is the first bit of attention you've had all day. You respond by stuffing your tongue in your cheek and making a blow job motion. Santa licks his lips and subtly palms his cock over his fluffy red pants.

Derek, oblivious, is walking you towards a department store.

"Mommy said she'd like a new bathrobe for Christmas," he says, bringing you past the awful perfume and makeup counters. You heard right.. Mommy. What the fuck?

"Didn't you already buy her a foot massager?" you ask, barely hiding your disinterest, looking around for a corner where you can blow him.

"She said she wants the robe instead," he says, diligently checking each one on the rack. Pink, green, blue, they're all in ugly prints and you wonder how little he must think of his mom to actually buy her a bathrobe instead of something nice.

But the bigger problem is your aching cunt.

"Derek, come on, just pick one out," you beg him, whispering in his ear, giving his lobe a little bite.

"Calm down, we're in public," he chides you over nervous laughter.

"So? That makes it more exciting." Closer to him as the clothing rack hides you, you cup his crotch, disappointed to find he isn't even remotely hard. Not a problem. You know exactly how to get him started.

"Let's go to the dressing room," you tell him before he can remove your hand. "I'll let you do whatever you want, please, I just need you now.."

"Get a hold of yourself," he whispers harshly, finally pulling your hand from him.

"Derek, what the fuck?" you whisper back. "Your horny girlfriend wants you to fuck her in a semi-public place and you're limp as a fucking noodle. Don't you want to at least watch me get off?"

You're not even allowing him time to think about it, leading him to the men's dressing room, where you're less likely to set off an alarm than the women's. You step into the first stall and push him against the wall, caging him in with your arms.

"Sweetheart, what the hell?"

"Fuck me," you tell him. "Jesus, Derek, I'm pussy on a plate right now." You lift your leg, rubbing against him, but only the fly of his jeans provides any feeling. "And you can't even get hard??"

"You're coming on a little strong," he says faintly, as if he's being cornered by a feral animal. And in a way he is.

You lean back on the little dressing room seat, hiking up your skirt. "At least eat me out, for Christ's sake," you whine, fingers dipping into your dripping-over cunt.

"Darling! You're acting like a crazy person," he says, shielding his eyes as you desperately finger yourself.

"You're such a pussy," you grunt out, breath hitching as you fuck yourself on two, then three fingers.

"You're not wearing any panties??" he says too loud, but you're past caring who hears, or if anyone even walks in. You'll gratefully fuck the store manager and the security guard who'll probably come to haul you away.

Derek keeps his gaze averted as you continue shamelessly fucking your hand, reaching inside your dress to twist your nipple. "Derek.. fuck.. you just gonna stand there and be useless?" You shove a fourth finger in your snatch, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your boyfriend is deeply afraid as he risks a peek from between his hands covering his face. "You look possessed! You have to stop or someone's going to hear you!"

"Baby, please, put your cock in my mouth," you beg, still working yourself into a frenzy. "Jizz on my face, anything, please!" You're on the floor now, riding your own fingers, your other hand madly strumming at your clit like a perverted version of air guitar.

There's a knock at the dressing room door, to which you answer "Go away, we're fucking" Then you come, squirting all over the bathrobe Derek was going to gift his dear mommy.

"You're lucky that guy didn't turn us into the police," Derek says, tight-lipped as he leads you back towards the center of the mall. "Got it all out of your system?" He's leaving the store embarrassed and minus any gifts.

"Yes," you sigh in exasperation, though it's a bald-faced lie. The need is growing again and you're just a slave to it. Your hands itch to go up your skirt again, to relieve the tension before it becomes unbearable.

And there he is, right where you left him before. Fucking Santa Claus. Like he's been waiting for you this whole time.

"Let's take a picture," you pull on Derek's hand. "Please? End the day on a good note?" You do your best to look contrite but all you're thinking about is sitting on that sleazy man's lap, maybe getting felt up. It'd be fucking amazing to have someone touch you besides your own fingers.

Before he can even protest you're practically skipping past the velvet rope and traipsing up the candy-cane lined walk to the big green chair where Santa sits. His eyes already on you, he pats his lap, tongue peeking out between his lips.

Derek follows after, but is stopped by one of the elves, who tells him he has to pay in advance for a photo.

"And what's your name?" Santa murmurs, discreetly adjusting himself as you seat yourself on his lap. "Does it matter?" you ask, subtly lifting the back of your skirt as he pulls his thick hard cock. "Guess not," he chuckles low and deep, then hisses as your slick tight cunt envelops him.

"My fucking god," he says lowly, doing all he can to keep from thrusting up into you as your boyfriend comes up, all smiles as he watches you get cozy with Santa. He makes as if to sit on Santa's other thigh. "Not you," Santa grunts, his hands on your waist as you clench and throb around him. Derek holds a smile and stands to the side opposite you.

This, this is what you needed. His cock isn't even all the way in, the way you pulse around him pushes him out a little until his hands grab your waist, as if to pose you for the camera, and pushes you down, bottoming out within your sopping wet cunt.

"Gonna leave a mess on me," he murmurs. "Already got my lap soaked. And the suit's a fuckin' rental."

His breath smells like cigarettes and cheap booze and it's only making you want him more. "Fuck, I needed this.."

"You been a good girl this year?"

"Not at all."

He leans in and whispers: "Good girls get presents. Bad girls like you get to sit on Santa's fat cock." He shifts his lap up a little, jutting up into you and you bite your lip to barely suppress a moan.

Your picture is being taken with Santa but you could give a shit. Cockwarming him while he's whispering filth in your ear is the most fun you've ever had.

"Does baby girl want a candy cane?" he asks when it's time for you to go. Derek goes to pay, leaving you alone with Santa again. "We have some more in the elf cottage, You gonna come get one? Gotta earn it first.." His gloved finger traces your arm. "C'mon, ditch the wanker."

The elf cottage is a sparse room for the Santa's Wonderland employees to take their breaks, and right now it's filled with the sounds of flesh slapping on flesh, your moans muffled by the fluffy red hat he put there to quiet you as he bends you over the folding table and rams his holly jolly dick into your stretched needy cunt.

"That's it, baby, fuckin' take it. Let Santa stuff your tight lil' stocking," he grunts.

You moan around the red fluff of his hastily discarded hat, throat burning with all your pent-up screams. Christ, you've never had anyone so disgusting, so eager, so perfect to satisfy this itch that you've been unable to scratch yourself.

And lord, his cock is the most filling thing you'll ever have. You already know he's going to leave you gaping for the next few days.

He watches the ripples of your ass as you throw it back on him, taking his entire fucking shaft so that with each thrust his balls thwack against your inner thighs. "Tight and wet.. lil' bitch in heat, ain't ya?" he teases, circling his hips so you feel him against every square inch of your aching snatch. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, finally spitting out the stupid hat.

"Fuck me Santa, fuck me Santa, fuck me Santa," you chant in broken moans, pushing your hips back, demanding it hard and fast, which he gives even as you come, clamping down all around him in a vise grip.

"Jesus," he growls, pulling out and kneeling behind you. He purses his lips to your dripping cunt, wiggling his tongue against your folds before licking a wide stripe upwards, teasing your asshole with his tongue. You practically shove your ass against his face, his gloved hands spreading your cheeks to get better access.

Grabbing a candy cane from a basket on the table you unwrap it with your teeth and hand it to him. It's thick and hard, and Santa knows just what to do with it. Feasting on both your holes, he takes the candy cane and watches it disappear into your glistening pussy. Hearing your gasp encourages him to keep going, fucking you as his tongue keeps rimming your ass, delving into tease you.

There's a knocking at the makeshift cottage door, then a moment of silence and a "God damn it, Joel, not again!" from the other side. "Fucker's always doing something," the person, most likely one of the elves at the cash register, mumbles and walks off.

He's back inside you, sliding the candy cane between your lips, moving it in and out just as he moves in and out, keeping you spread open so he fill you with every inch. "Babygirl likes havin' somethin' to suck on, don't she?" he mutters, pumping steadily into you. "Gotta be a good girl and tell me where ya want it."

"Inside me," you beg, and he moves double time, hands on your shoulders as he ruts up against you, slamming every inch until you cry out again, knees buckling as you come hard and Santa Joel follows soon after, his jizz painting your insides in warm sticky ropes.

"Lick me clean, baby," he murmurs, and you immediately go to your knees, taking him deep into your mouth, your jaw aching as the tip of him hits the back of your throat. When you gag he keeps you there, your mouth filling with saliva until it spills out from your lips, mixed with his cum. You bob your head on his length, eyes watering as you look up at him, your cunt still throbbing as you start to leak him on the floor.

"Fuuuuck yes," he growls, hand on your head, teeth sinking into his lower lip as you suck him off, and it's a Christmas miracle he's hard again, and he's about to come. He holds your head still and facefucks you, your hands cupping his ass to stop him from going too shallow-- you need to be deepthroated for once in your life.

Santa Joel lets out another curse as he uses you to come, spurting his Christmas magic down your throat. "There's a good girl. Babygirl's thirsty for what Santa's got, huh?" he teases as you greedily swallow every bitter, salty drop.

Clothes are straightened before you leave the little elf cottage, but the look of satisfaction is plain on your face as you suck on the candy cane that you'd been fucked with only moments before. Santa Joel puts his hat back on his head and shuffles over to the helper elves. "I'm goin' out for another smoke break," he tells them.

The head elf puts her hands on her hips. "Joel, you're not allowed to take ten smoke breaks an hour!" But by then he's already on the way out, both middle fingers in the air to salute her.

Derek joins you, looking puzzled as he studies the holiday photo -- there's something off about the face you're making in it. "Did Santa give you that candy cane?"

Grinning, you slurp up the sweet peppermint that still has traces of your own flavor on it. "And then some."

dividers by @saradika 👑

Tagging those who showed interest: @clawdee @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @myownwholewildworld

@penascigarette @hoelaris

[kainabunny]

creative

Thought I'll post this here since been reading a lot. No, I never get exhausted on creating lore for any storyline. I've been in mcrp space for 10+ years, believe me when I say... I have ideas I really do. Issue is I'm not allowed to write that style of lore like im used to.

It wasn't a choice I was allowed to make but I make work with my writing. Especially since atm I love what I do. This is my job and I'll do my best to make a quality episodes.

Whether it's in the m c r p space or in v r or my own content. Please know that I we'll never run out of creativity for stories. I love characters.I love the environment.And I love how much i'm allowed to do. Certain careers, I work for allow me to write my own things that eventually become fan favorites. While others, I must listen to the rules since they are my clients. I never, ever run out of creativity, or else, how will I pay my bills🥺

I draw, Va, Body act,edit , make blockbench models and write. I do a lot since in the end of the say I wanna be supportive to my friends and clients. Many know me without even knowing me. I've been behind the scenes helping where I can since 2015 on projects with multiple people! So let's clear somethings up:

There seems to be a lack of communication with us.

TSBS fans of Femme:

I should paste here since im assuming majority are not not in the server. Femme Nights has shifted to Roblox. Was not by choice but unfortunately we roll with the punches. Davis is no longer at femme as writer. He is still around for other channels and for his health chose to drop femme. (Dude works on so many channels... so makes sense to drop one)

Flora and I have been the ones taking care of Femme since. So we'll support him same way he supported us. (I better not see a rumor that he hates us. My bestie is over worked plus I mod for him. So... we all friends who help each other. Also he is marring my bestie☺️) I've taken on the mantle as writer for femme while Flora has been overseeing my work and coming up with concepts( we are both figuring out our workload behind the scene🥺) I just got sick and tried of everyone just assuming we "ran out of ideas" or "oh this is a break bc they are overworked" Clearly we haven't met! 😈

Regardless, I promise each video isn't done with the intention of being "baby" we are trying our best with videos. Concepts that are wayyy more but we are hired to work here. So we have to listen to our boss. I can't promise lore will return the same way as VR. I can promise is giving a story and being entertaining. Flora and I hope everyone can understand that part.

Now with that said I know we will be losing a good chunk of the fan base. Hell ive read the comments and heard the hate you've posted about this. I do not blame anyone for leaving and dropping femme! I also don't know too much on roblox but I wanna be better! I wanna thank you folks for allowing us to grow in VR storyline. Now if you stick around please do it for Flora and myself. I promise you I'll do my best together. We just need some patience and positivity. Some actually good criticism then we hate it. We already talking on how we can add some certain characters. Storylines and expand. (Again we are trying so don't quote me. I wanna suprise you if I get the ok.) im excited, excited to see this through but Flora and I need your support.

Personal:

Now if you wanna see me more active please go to Twitter for me or join my live on twitch(Kainabunny). I really enjoying my time here and won't talk against fan bases I don't know. However, I'm trying to step up and understand the fan bases I work for. So please any questions about how I work or projects I don't mind💙 ( won't lie felt a little insulted you guys assumed Davis would leave a channel without someone who can keep up? Dude once I get approval on certain storylines I guarantee you'll adore what's to come!) Seriously, you guys should go do a little research on the projects ive helped. Most likely was the reason I've made you cry in the MCRP community ��😅😅

Sorry for the rant hope everyone enjoys!!!

[emeraldserenade]

Lovely Life ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: You meet and fall in love with Joaquín during The Blip + your life after it

tw: fem!reader, reader has a younger brother, reader has glass child syndrome, reader's brother is named Eddy, Eddy calls reader Bubbles, Eddy and reader have a good relationship, timeline might be a little wonky but I'm trying, mentions of the Blip, Joaquín has a breeding kink (he does and no one can change my mind), reader and Joaquín practically adopt Bob as their younger brother, suggestive, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Thunderbolts* Spoilers are probably in here!! I don't know why this took so long for me to write but I hope you all enjoy this!!

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You couldn't really place when the shift happened. Maybe because it wasn't a big shift, you were always told you were so independent and easy to raise. So when your parents started to push you behind, stopped saying they were proud of you, stopped showing they loved you, you never really noticed. Not right away at least, but it showed even more in high school. Your brother was a freshman your senior year, and his grades started to slip.

His failures seemed to be your fault, something you could fix. You were forced to help him, which you did in earnest. It wasn't his fault that your parents were blaming you for his failures. "Eddy?" You knocked on his bedroom door.

"Bubbles, I can't do this anymore," Eddy whispered to you, his voice cracking in the middle.

"Do what?" You pushed his door open frantically.

"Everything, it's too much," he admitted and you rushed to him, you ran your eyes over him and then around him. "I didn't do anything, but I'm thinking about it. I need help," he admitted and you nodded.

"Mom and dad will be home in a few hours, or I could call them home now."

"No!" Eddy shook his head at you. "They'll blame you, say you could have prevented it. It's not fair to you, they don't even listen when I tell them," he told you.

"Do you want to go to a therapist? I'm 18 and mom and dad have given me the right to make medical decisions for you. I could make you an appointment, they wouldn't have to know," you suggested, your heart breaking at the thought you couldn't help your brother anymore than that.

"Ok, yeah," he nodded at you. You moved to leave but Eddy grabbed your arm. "Please stay, I don't think I can be alone right now."

"I was going to order pizza, call around to find a therapist, and use the bathroom. Just follow me around, you used to when we were little anyway," you told him and he nodded.

You went to the bathroom first, Eddy stood in the hallway. You left and the pair of you made your way downstairs. You ordered two pizzas, your toppings and his. It took longer to find a therapist than you thought, but you soon found one not far from your work. You could drive Eddy there under the guise of him helping at the VA and your parents would none the wiser.

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You started spending more time at the VA, even when you weren't getting paid. It's how you met Sam Wilson, you learned he was Air Force and had lost his wingman in the field. In return for you listening to Sam's problems, Sam listened to yours. "Have you considered that you may have glass child syndrome?"

"Oh, yeah, my therapist says I do," you nodded, you two were setting up for an event the VA was throwing.

"Are you doing what she's telling you to do to help?"

"Mostly, I'm supposed to ask for what I want and for help from my parents too, but I just freeze every time. She's proud that I can with you though," you told him, your eyes darting to the door as Eddy walked in.

You graduated high school last year and in the past year, you could see the noticeable shift in Eddy. He seemed to be lighter on his feet and you hadn't caught him slipping on his grade or crying alone in his room. "Hey Bubbles! Hey Sam!" Eddy called over, taking his place behind the front desk. You had gotten him a job there too, wanting to keep him close just in case.

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Then Sam disappeared and suddenly he was wanted for helping Captain America. Then half the population disappeared, including your brother. It was a rough five years, your parents house went to you and you just left it empty. You couldn't face having to clean it out, you visited the remembrance memorial often. Finding your bother's name, followed by your parents, was second nature. You would just stand there for hours, staring at the names while willing yourself not to cry. You kept your job at the VA, you would stare at the seat Eddy was sitting in when he just turned to dust. You would trace your fingers over the last spot you had seen your younger brother.

At some point you found Sam's name on the memorial, you hadn't even thought about looking for his name before. You guessed there was a part of you that just knew he was gone with the others, it was there you met someone new. "Did you know him?" A man's voice made you jump, he couldn't have been much older than you.

"Sam? Yeah, did you?" You questioned him.

"No, I looked up to him though. He's the reason I wanted to be Air Force," he admitted and you smiled at him.

"He's be proud to hear that, though he'd never admit it," you told him. "I'm y/n, by the way," you offered your hand.

"Joaquín Torres," he offered his name. That fateful conversation changed the course of your life, you and Joaquín hung out a lot. It brought a sense of normalcy to your life during The Blip, but you never took the step over the blurry line of friendship.

Not until one night, you two shared one drunken kiss. You had frozen, your brain working faster than you could voice.

You don't deserve his attention You're not good enough You're not worthy of his attention

"Angel?" Joaquín's voice broke you out of your thoughts and you looked at him with wide eyes. He had a pretty good idea about what was happening in your head. You had told him about how your parents treated you, how your therapist diagnosed you with Glass Child Syndrome and you've never quite gotten over it. "Whatever your mind is telling you, it's wrong," his voice was gentle as he took your hands. "I don't know exactly what it's saying, but you do deserve my attention. You are good enough for this," Joaquín's words hit you exactly where you needed them too.

"Are you sure?" You couldn't help but ask, tightening your hold on his hands.

"As sure as I am that the sun will rise in the morning," he told you and you laughed gently, maybe he was right.

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You were at work when everyone came back, your brother just appeared in the seat he was in five years ago. "Eddy?" Your brother looked up at you and noticed the immediate change in you.

"Bubbles, what?" He looked around and his eyes scrunched. So many things were different.

"Holy shit!" You rushed to your brother and pulled him into your arms. Eddy hugged you back confused. "It's been five years, dude!" You pulled back before swiping your phone off the counter. Your phone was immediately flooded with messages from other people who were missing but you only called one person.

"What? Five years?" Eddy questioned.

"Quino, baby, Eddy's back," you told him as soon as he answered.

"Are you at work?" Joaquín questioned.

"Yeah, I am," you affirmed, looking back to Eddy with teary eyes.

"I'll be there soon," he told you before the line went dead.

"Five years, Eddy. Five fucking years," you mumbled. "Mom and dad dusted too, they're probably at home," you were rambling.

"Bubbles," Eddy called your attention and you stopped talking. "Who's Quino? What happened? What's going on?"

"Oh, Qunio is Joaquín. He's my boyfriend, fiance. I'm still getting used to saying that," you admitted. "From what was released, there was this giant purple alien that came from space and got rid of half the living population. I guess The Avenger's fixed everything," you told him, moving to hugging him again.

"You're engaged?" Eddy whispered.

"Yeah, you'll love him. He's coming to meet you now," you told him. "Oh, are you hungry?"

"Yeah, it literally feels like I blinked and everything changed," he told you and you nodded.

"I'll order a pizza," you told him as Joaquín rushed through the door. "Joaquín," you hugged him and pressed a kiss to his lips before introducing him to Eddy.

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Your parents weren't as happy that you were engaged, but they loved Joaquín. He got to see first hand how they didn't seem to care about you and your feelings over your brother's. Not even knowing that you were five years older and went those five years without them. You seemed used to it, even offered to help your parents with anything.

You met Sam at the VA only a few weeks after everyone came back, he seemed off. "Hey Sam," you waved at him and he just pulled you into a hug.

"Hey," he pulled away and gave you a look. Your hair was longer and you looked mostly the same. But the nice ring on your left hand caught his attention. "You're engaged?"

"Yeah, to a nice Air Force Intelligence Officer," you told him, your smile wide. "Joaquín Torres," you told Sam Joaquín's name.

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Sam started working with the Air Force a few weeks later, and suddenly you found yourself hearing about Sam everyday anyway.

"Baby, I'm working with Sam," Joaquín told you one day, a shotty phone call being your only communication at the moment.

"Oh? Nice," you didn't mean to sound dismissive but you were also in the middle of making dinner.

"You're cooking, aren't you?"

"How did," you trailed off.

"You only ever sound dissmissive when you're cooking or baking. Otherwise I have your full attention, and since it's about 5pm, I just guessed. What are you making for dinner, espléndida?" Joaquín questioned. espléndida = gorgeous

"Steak with roasted potatoes and carrots," you told him, humming to a tune stuck in your head. "Eddy's coming over for dinner and apparently my parents are still only ordering in. He needs a good meal that doesn't come from a restaurant," you told Joaquín.

"You're a good sister, will be an even better mom," Joaquín told you and you laughed lightly.

"You going to make me one?" You joked lightly.

"I mean, I could borrow the wings. We can make one as soon as I get there, like right now," Joaquín rushed out and you laughed harder.

"Joaquín Torres! You're on a mission!"

"Yeah, a mission to get you pregnant," he muttered and you barked out another laugh.

"At least marry me first," you told him, pulling the potatoes and carrots out of the oven.

"I'm trying!" He shot back and you smiled.

"Mm, I've already said yes. Tell Sam to tell your CO to let you come home long enough for out wedding. Then take leave for our honeymoon," you told him, leaning against the counter as you stared at the resting steak.

"Bubbles! I'm here!" Eddy called from the front door.

"In the kitchen!" You called back to him and watched him walk in. He was a junior in high school now and he looked it. "Say hi to your future brother in law," you told Eddy.

"Hey, Joaquín," Eddy said into your phone, unnecessarily close to where it rested on the counter.

"Hi, Eddy. How's school going?" Joaquín was always curious about how Eddy was doing. He seemed to love Eddy just as much as you do.

"Pretty ok, struggling a bit on physics," he shrugged and you gave him a flat look.

"Are you even going to the tutor?" You questioned, turning off the alarm that you were using to time the setting steaks.

"Sometimes, mom and dad don't really like me going. They said I should just come to you,' he shrugged and you and Joaquín sighed in unison. "I go when I can," he added on.

"Good, food's done," you said and pointed to your cabinet you kept the plates in.

"I have to go anyway," Joaquín said. "I love you."

"I love you more, Joaquín. Bye!"

"Impossible," Joaquín joked. "Bye, baby. Bye, Eddy!" The line went dead as you and Eddy stacked your plates with the food you made.

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Joaquín and Sam got a whole office in a government building, rendering it their home base. It gave you and Joaquín enough time to finally get married and go on your honeymoon. Joaquín joking said it was a disaster since you came home still baby free, but you just told him you two would keep trying. Even if you both knew you were still taking birth control and you both knew that you weren't ready for children yet, it was still nice to indulge Joaquín in his breeding kink.

You took Joaquín and Sam lunch a lot, Sam appreciated the lunch but he would complain every time you and Joaquín got too lovey dovey. "Come on, you don't do this enough at home? Or do you just like making me grossed out?"

"Come on, man. This is my wife and you expect me not to show her that I love her?" Joaquín vaguely gestured over your body and you just laughed.

"I can stop bringing lunch," you offered.

"No, it's fine. I'll put up with this if it means I get homemade lunch," Sam relented and you laughed, pushing yourself to sit on the edge of Joaquín's desk.

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Both Sam and Joaquín went with you to your brother's graduation. Joaquín was still healing from his incident at Celestial Island, but he was ok enough to come to Eddy's graduation. The three of you cheered the loudest and your voice echoed through the whole hall. "That's my brother!" You cringed into yourself as you heard your voice echo back at you but Joaquín and Sam backed you up by yelling louder until the next person was being called.

Eddy went right passed both of your parents and straight to you. You hugged him tight and told him how proud you were of him before he hugged Joaquín and Sam. Your parents were last and you could tell they really didn't care, they had emotionally checked out of being a parents since The Blip. They left right after the hugs and you made sure to jump in to try and fill the hole you knew their departure left.

"Want to go to dinner?" Sam offered Eddy, you three already had a reservation at Eddy's favorite place.

"Seriously?" Eddy looked between you three with wide eyes. You had an easy smile on your face and Joaquín's arm was around your waist. Joaquín was smiling too, but his eyes were on you and full of love. It always made Eddy feel hopeful to find a relationship as happy and loving as yours when he saw how you and Joaquín looked at each other. "I'd love to!"

"Good because there's a reservation for four of us at The Glass Palace," Sam told Eddy, throwing his arm over the younger boy's shoulders. You smiled at the pure giddy laugh Eddy let out, The Glass Palace was a nice steak house that Eddy had been to for every birthday he could get your parents to agree to it.

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Joaquín and you offered Eddy to move in with you two, but he revealed that he did in fact intend to go to college in the fall. "Well, you always have a room in our house," you told him, your disappointment of not having one of the most important people in your life living with you hidden behind your smile. Joaquín knew though, the same way he knew when your thoughts started to spiral and convince you that you don't deserve Joaquín.

Dinner was nice, filled with you and Eddy sharing stories as well as you and Joaquín telling stories about the five years that passed without them. By the end, you were convinced that Eddy liked Sam and Joaquín more than you. You made a joke about it that ended up with Eddy throwing his arm over your shoulders with a laugh. "Nah, you'll always be my favorite, Bubbles. I'm sure they wouldn't make a soapy mixture to make homemade bubbles for us to play with while our parents are off on a brand trip," Eddy said and you laughed, loudly.

"They might but I'll beat them to it every time, Bubs," you knocked the side of your head against his, the nickname you haven't called him since he was in middle school falling from your lips. You caught his smile at the nickname.

"Bubs and Bubbles?" It was Sam who clocked it.

"We both ended up accidentally eating some of the soap mixture," you supplied. "Hence Bubs and Bubbles, matching nicknames that our parents hate," you added on and both of the other men laughed.

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Time passed in a manor you thought was slowly yet entirely too fast. Eddy was going to college, NYU, in less than a month and Bucky was a congressman. You had met him briefly between Eddy's graduation and now, but you weren't too close.

It wasn't until a few months after Eddy going to college that you saw him again, Sam was convinced that you would be able to get common sense through to Bucky. So you found yourself standing with Sam and Joaquín outside of the Watchtower. "He's met me once! I doubt this will work," you were nervously playing with Joaquín's hand, spinning his wedding ring in circles.

"It's the only thing I can think of," Sam said and you nodded as the door opened to show chaos. Bucky was standing in the middle with his hands on his face.

"Ah! Captain America and Falcon!" Alexi called everyone's attention to you three. You gave an awkward wave as Joaquín and Sam seemed more assured in their hellos.

"Say hi, Bobby!" You heard John yell to a man in a bean bag but you also saw the way he flinched when John called him Bobby.

"Hey, Walker! He clearly doesn't like you calling him that," you told him, your face showing your anger. The man reminded you of Eddy too much for you to ignore.

"He's fine, aren't you, Bob-" You cut John off by grabbing a pillow and chucking it at his head. It hit him square in the face and when he looked at you, he withered into the couch at your glare. "Sorry," he sheepishly ducked his head and you had to assume both Sam and Joaquín were also glaring him down (they weren't, your glare was too reminiscent of his mother's when she was mad at him).

"Bucky, follow us, now," you left no room for argument as you walked back into the elevator where Sam and Joaquín were waiting. Bucky fell into step just a few moments after and you talked to him.

"Look, we were calling ourselves The Thunderbolts until Valentina's while news thing," Bucky told you and you groaned, she always made your nerves stand on edge.

"Of course, she's the reason," you dropped your head on Joaquín's shoulder and he wrapped his arms around you. He landed a kiss on your head as you took a deep breath. "I'm not even being paid for this, why am I doing this?" You muttered.

"Because you love us," Joaquín told you and you gave him a glare with no malice behind it.

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You, Joaquín, and Sam ended up spending time at the Watchtower. You were currently sitting on the floor across from Bob putting together a puzzle. "You, you don't seem...scared of me," Bob said it in awe.

"Should I be?" You lifted your head to look at him, tilting your head to the side a bit.

"Well, I, uh," Bob trailed off, worried that you would run the second you knew what he did. "I was kinda the...the one that, uh, blacked out New York," he told you and you slowly nodded.

"I was told it was another part of you, the one that happens when you're low," you started talking. "Like how you're Sentry when you're high. There's no shame, Bob. Sure, you have troubles, but there's no reason to be scared of you for them," you smiled at him and he just stared at you with side eyes.

"But I...I hurt people," he argued weakly but you just sat there, your time at the VA helped you stay patient.

"So? A lot of people here have, everyone here probably has to some degree. It's apart of life, you'll never be able to make it through life without hurting someone, physically or not. It's apart of what makes us human," you told him and saw a flash of emotions cross his face.

"That, that makes sense," he nodded and you two fell back into silence as you went back to building the puzzle.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Qunio?" You called Joaquín over almost an hour later, he was sitting on the couch with the others.

"Yes, mami?" Joaquín stood by you.

"Can you help us find the last piece?" You asked and he nodded, automatically looking around with you two. It only took a few minutes before Bob found it. "Place it," you told him.

"Are you sure?" Bob questioned and you and Joaquín both nodded.

"It's your puzzle and Joaquín doesn't have the patience to sit through them so he doesn't care either, do you?" You looked at Joaquín and he noticed the familiar look in your eyes. It was the same shine you had when talking with Eddy and it made Joaquín smile.

"Not at all, man. Go ahead and place it," Joaquín told him and you both watched Bob place the piece. There was a small smile on all of your faces as the puzzle ended and you gave a quiet cheer.

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"You've made Bob your brother," Yelena said it bluntly and you just looked up from where you where on the couch curled into Joaquín who was asleep. She was supposed to be in the meeting along with everyone but you, Joaquín, and Bob about the name thing.

"What? No, no she hasn't," Bob said, you could tell he was nervous about ruining any friendship he has with you and Joaquín.

"Bobert, I kinda have," you told him, the silly nickname you've taken to calling him calming his nerves. "What about it?" You looked back to Yelena.

"Nothing, I'm just happy he has more friends," she said with a shrug before flopping down on the couch too.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the meeting?" You questioned.

"I left, it was boring," she said and you just nodded, turning your attention back to the TV playing the movie.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Bobert, you literally have both of our numbers. Just call us anytime," you told him, offering him a hug which he gladly accepted. Joaquín gave him one too before you two left the tower with Sam. "We'll have to call him first," you told Joaquín.

"We will," Joaquín agreed. The ride to the airport was silent, all of you tired but no one caring to fill the silence.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You and Joaquín finally got back to your shared house and you looked at him. You pursed your lips before grabbing his hands, you realized how much you actually wanted kids. Between the way it felt natural to care for Eddy and Bob really solidified your want. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just," you took a grounding breath. "I'm ready for a baby if you are," you told him. You saw the happiness cross his face faster than you could blink.

"Right now, I'm putting one in your right now," he announced, throwing you over his shoulder with a grin.

"Joaquín!" You squealed. "I literally took the pill right before going on the plane, it won't take tonight," you told him, relaxing in his hold and letting your hand rest on the small of his back to keep too much blood from rushing to your head.

"Then today's practice," Joaquín shrugged the shoulder you weren't on.

"Practice?" You laughed even more.

"Of course, gotta get the technique down," Joaquín threw you on the bed and you just smiled up at him.

"You're a dork," you said before pulling him down to kiss him.

"I'm your dork," he said between kisses.

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Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 20

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 19 | Series Masterlist | Part 21

Chapter Word Count: Over 4k

Chapter Summary: Things come to a head when Clark confronts you.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, break-in, physical assault, threat and fear of sexual assault, choking, fighting, reference to stalking and violence, inner turmoil, angst, comfort, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and this chapter is a little heavy. Thank you again for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby 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!

The chilling smile on Clark’s face made you grip your phone tighter. How did he get in, and how long had he been waiting for you? Looking around, you were painfully aware that you were alone in the building lobby with him. Maybe you could head back outside and call Bucky.

Or the police.

“What are you doing here?” you asked again.

“I just wanted to see you.” He removed his glasses and tucked them into his shirt pocket. He stood taller, too. “Is that a problem?”

“If you want to see me, you can stop by the shop. You don't need to come here,” you pointed out. You had one stalker already and didn’t need to deal with another.

“But I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, taking one step closer. “You didn't come home last night, and I thought you’d be back a little earlier today.”

A roll of uneasiness moved through you. What the hell was he on about? “Who said I didn't come home last night?” you asked. And why did he expect you back at your building earlier? Unless…

He laughed, a cruel and bitter sound. “Don’t bullshit me. I know you were with him. And I know you went out with your friends today.” His smile was going to haunt you for days. “I'm sure you had a nice time, but you do look a little more alert than I expected.”

The unease quickly turned to dread. Bucky said he caught someone following you, but what if that guy wasn't the only one? Ray would've spotted Clark though if he followed you, right? “And how exactly do you know I was with my friends?” you asked, slowly backing away toward the door since he was blocking the elevator.

“I’m a journalist. It’s my job to get the inside scoop,” he joked. You weren't laughing.

“My life isn’t inside scoop and it isn't any of your business,” you said, making his smile fade away. “I think you should leave.”

His eye twitched. “But we just started talking.”

You took a deep breath. It was getting tiring being surrounded by men who didn’t listen. “Look, I’ve had a long day on top of a long week. If Bucky finds out-”

“Bucky,” he spat, like the name tasted horrible on his tongue. “You think he’s the only powerful man in this city? I have a powerful friend, too.”

You froze. “Does your friend happen to be Helmut Zemo?” you asked, trying not to show how afraid you were. Did he know him? Work for him?

“Why don't we grab that coffee and I can tell you more about it?” he asked, reaching for your arm.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you said, glancing behind you. You wished Bucky or Ray was there. One of them would be there soon, right?

“Looking for your little bodyguard friend?” he smirked like he knew something you didn't. “I don't think he’ll make it with a flat tire and all.”

Your heart leapt to your throat. “How did you-”

“Couldn't risk anyone interfering. You can thank the limo driver for that,” he said, darting around and blocking the main door when you tried to walk out. “Why do you look so scared? There's nothing to be scared of. We’re just going to talk.”

You had every reason to be frightened. You didn’t know what Clark’s intentions were, but you sensed enough that they weren’t good and he didn’t want to just have a conversation. Bucky for all of his sins wouldn’t raise a hand to you, but Clark? Zemo? You could really get hurt.

“I’m sorry, but I think you should go.”

“Do you even want to be with Bucky or are you just afraid of him?” You jumped when he grabbed your arm. “Or is it because he’s rich? You think he’ll spoil you if you spread your legs for him?”

The sudden onslaught of vitriol made you shake. “Let me go. Please.”

He ignored your wince when his fingers dug in. “He doesn't deserve you. He isn't good for you, but I am. Just let me help you,” he argued, trying to grab your phone with his other hand. “I have a car waiting out back. Just come with me and we’ll figure this out.”

“There's nothing to figure out and I don’t need your ‘help’,” you said, yanking your arm back. “Just go and leave me alone!”

“Leave you alone? You sound just like Lois,” he bitterly whispered. His ex. You remembered the name. “Either come with me or I’ll-”

You dashed to the building staircase, not waiting for him to finish his threat. It felt reminiscent of a scary movie, running up the stairs and spelling out your doom instead of running out the front door. But you’d be okay. You could call for help once you got to your apartment.

“Get back here!”

Your legs ached as you ran faster, but the adrenaline and the heavy sound of his footsteps helped you push through it. It wasn't long until you got to your floor and you didn't look back as you got your keys out. “Come on,” you whimpered, your hand shaking as you unlocked your door. You sensed Clark right behind you, but you slammed and locked the door before he could get in.

“Open the door!” he shouted, the door shaking as he slammed his fist against it.

“Go away!” you begged, swiping at your phone screen. “Please…”

The sound of your door being kicked in nearly made your heart burst from your chest. You spun around to find Clark just outside, his breathing heavy as he narrowed his eyes at you. Scrambling back as he stormed inside, you opened your mouth and did something you never thought you'd do since Bucky entered your life.

“Bucky, help!” you cried, hoping that whatever cameras Bucky had in your place had sound. “Help me, please!”

You tried to rush to your room, but Clark was faster. Stronger. He pulled you back so fast and so hard by your wrist that you fell backwards to the floor. Pain shot through your body and you felt like you couldn't draw your next breath when Clark’s shadow fell over you. Tears stung your eyes, your body temporarily paralyzed as he kicked your phone away.

“Look what you made me do,” he sighed, crouching over you. “Lois ran from me, too.”

“What…”

“She was stubborn. Headstrong. We had a big fight and, well…” He shook his head. “But you were always so kind to me, and I thought you’d make it all better.”

The night you came home and found Bucky waiting for you frightened you, but it paled in comparison to the pure terror you felt when Clark crouched over you. There was something dark and twisted in his eyes as he looked you over. Any trace of the nice guy you were used to seeing in the shop was nowhere to be found.

“Bucky,” you breathed, some of the pain subsiding as you tried to roll away. “P-Please, help me.”

Clark’s face twisted into a murderous scowl when he rolled you onto your back again and clamped a hand over your mouth. “Stop saying his name. Stop fighting me. I don't want to hurt you.”

Your eyes widened, barely able to breathe through your nose. Cark already hurt you. Pain bloomed everywhere he touched. There were sure to be marks or something with how hard he pressed against your mouth.

“You just need to understand,” he whispered.

You tensed up when his hand touched your thigh. You didn't know if it was to pry your legs open or to try to carry you out, but you wouldn't let him have you. And if he was going to have you, you wouldn't give it to him easily. So you struggled as much as you could and managed to move his hand away just enough for you to bite down.

He cried out and pulled his hand back, looking as shocked as you felt. “Why are you behaving like a petulant child? I’m trying to help you. Why don't you see that?!”

“Clark, you're hurting me. Please, stop.” Tears streamed down your cheeks when he wrapped a hand around your throat. “Bucky, HELP ME!” you tried to scream, the fingers around your neck cutting off your words along with your air supply.

Images flashed in your mind when you clawed at his hand. Putting together your first arrangement at your childhood home. Grabbing your favorite treat from the cafe. Finding a good book at Marc’s shop. The day Mrs. Crandle hired you. Laughing with your girlfriends. And waking up beside Bucky that morning, a soft smile on his face. Something you didn't expect to think about.

Were you going to die?

“Shut. Up.” he snarled, loosening his grip just a little. “Just let me-”

Neither of you saw the figure behind him until he was pulled off you and shoved across the room. It happened so fast you couldn't tell if it was Bucky or not. You held your throat as you coughed and greedily gulped the air, the sound of scuffling and objects breaking urging you to move away. Sitting up, you were vaguely aware of more footsteps entering your apartment, but couldn't see who they were. You just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.

You didn't want anyone else to hurt you.

Before you could get out of the room, a large, imposing body suddenly cradled you against it and gently held you when you tried to fight back. Blinking your tears away, you realized the man had blue eyes, but it wasn't Bucky or Ray. You didn't recognize him at all. Was he a new tenant?

“W-Who…”

“It’s okay,” the man assured you, quickly assessing you as the shouting and fighting continued. He brushed a finger along a rip in your cardigan. When did Clark do that? “Are you hurt?”

“I don't know,” you whimpered. Your wrist throbbed from where Clark gripped it, and so did your throat.

The fighting only lasted a few more seconds, the sound of heavy breathing filling your apartment before you heard, “Kotyonok?”

“She’s right here.” The man holding you let you go, but stayed close. “She’s safe.”

Safe. You weren't safe. You would never be safe again in this lifetime, would you?

“B... Bucky?” your voice cracked. You trembled and you thought you were crying, too, but you couldn't be sure. It wasn't until you blinked and felt a pair of almost familiar arms around you that your vision began to become more clear again. “You're here?”

“It’s me. I'm here,” he tried to soothe you, tenderly wiping your tears away. His hair was a mess and his clothes were disheveled, a far cry from the put together man you were used to seeing. “I’ve got you.”

Glancing across the room, you spotted Clark laying on the ground with Ray and Steve standing over him. You let out a broken sob when you took in the rest of the scene. Your potted plants and vases were broken, your little trinkets and frames shattered, and everything felt terrifying. It was supposed to be your home and it was once again invaded and forever tainted.

“Steve, bring him to the club. Shut it down. No one touches him until I get there.” Bucky’s metal arm curled around you and lifted you before you could protest that you were too heavy, the heat radiating from him soothing you. “Ray, deal with any neighbors who saw or heard anything. No cops.”

“You sure you don't need me to drive you?” Ray asked, concern etched all over his face when he looked at you. He looked both hurt and furious.

“I’m sure. Just get to the club after you deal with the neighbors.”

Something covered your body. Was it a blanket? A jacket? “What do you need from me?” the stranger asked.

“Get the car. Take us home,” Bucky ordered, carrying you away.

You didn't lift your head as Bucky carried you to the elevator. Did your neighbors hear the commotion? “He was waiting for me. H… He kicked my door in.” You sniffled, your body shaking uncontrollably. “He grabbed me and…”

“He won't touch you again. Ever,” he whispered. He was holding his anger at bay. You could feel it.

“I told him to go,” you explained, seeing the clench in his jaw. “I didn't… I’m sorry…”

Bucky gently shushed you. “You don't need to apologize. This isn't your fault. And I’m taking you home and no one is going to lay a finger on you ever again.”

You nodded, but some voice in the back of your head said you caused this somehow. It may have been the shock you felt since you rationally knew you hadn't done anything. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Bucky paused to look at you. “You don't need to thank me.”

“But you saved me,” you said. Him and the man you didn't recognize. “If you hadn't…” Your stomach rolled as you trailed off, not wanting to imagine the worst.

He held you closer. “If you call for me, I’ll be there.”

How did he get there so quickly? And Ray? “How did you know something was… I mean…” You sniffled again. “Did you hear me?”

Bucky tensed up. “Steve and I weren't too far from your place, and I got an alert as soon as your door opened. I knew something was wrong because Ray wasn’t here yet and you were still supposed to be in the limo,” he said, stepping out of the elevator and heading right to the car. “I dispatched Curtis immediately and we were close behind. Ray ran to get here.”

Your brows pinched. “Curtis?” you asked. Was that the man you didn't recognize?

“He works for me. I’ve had him keep an eye on you. You weren't supposed to meet him…” He swallowed and looked down at you. “Like this.”

Another man watching you. When exactly were you supposed to meet him? “So you heard me call for you?” you asked.

He swallowed again and nodded. “Yes.”

Never in a million years did you think you’d call out to him for help. You didn't consider that the cameras would ever be anything more than an obsessive way for him to have control over you, but it may have saved you today. And you couldn't imagine what you looked like as he looked over you. Your makeup ruined, shaking like a leaf.

“Try not to move too much,” he urged when you shifted in his arms. “I’m going to have my doctor look you over to make sure nothing’s broken and… to make sure you're okay.”

“Okay.” Your face scrunched up before you began to cry again. You were hurt and so confused. Nothing made sense and you couldn't even go home. “Why did Clark-”

Bucky let out a low growl and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Never say his name again.”

You hid your face in his neck, wetting his skin with your tears. “I was so scared.”

He slowly breathed out. “I was, too,” he admitted in a whisper. “But I’ve got you now.”

Bucky had you, but your tears didn't stop flowing and it didn't change what happened.

“I’m so sorry, Kotyonok,” Bucky whispered brokenly. He wasn't a helpless man by any means, but you were certain your sobs made him feel hopeless at the moment. “I can't fix what he did, but I’ll make him pay. He’ll fucking pay. I promise.”

You slumped against Bucky, exhausted from everything that transpired. You had no doubt he'd destroy Clark for hurting you. You just wished he never put his hands on you to begin with.

The partition lowered, but you kept your face hidden in Bucky's neck. “Nick got the driver,” Curtis announced.

“Make sure he’s brought to the club,” Bucky said, rubbing your back. “I need him to tell me exactly why he let you out of the limo before I beat him within an inch of his life.”

“He did it… The driver.” You sounded like you hadn't used your voice in days. “He did something to Ray's car.”

You hadn't been able to process what Clark said earlier, but you could now and it all made sense. The driver was at the winery the entire time you were and he would've had plenty of opportunities to mess with one of Ray's tires. Knowing that Ray wouldn't get to your building like normal, he let you get out of the limo and go into your building where Clark was waiting.

Clark also said you were more alert than he expected. Maybe you weren't paranoid by thinking something happened to the drinks. If you drank as much as your friends, you may have been more out of it and wouldn't have been able to put up any sort of fight against Clark.

Bucky tilted your head up and wiped a stray tear away. “He’ll pay, too,” he promised, not even questioning if what you said was true. He took you at your word. “There’s something else, isn't there?” he asked, grabbing a water from beside him and bringing it to your lips.

“He didn't confirm it, but…” You took a drink, the cool liquid making your throat feel a little better. “I think Zemo had something to do with this.”

Bucky’s mouth was set in a grim line and fury burned behind his eyes, but he softened his gaze for you. “Zemo knows you're my future wife. If he knowingly allowed someone to put their hands on you…” His metal fingers curled, but he pressed another gentle kiss to your forehead. “Did Jensen get that file like I asked?”

“He did,” Curtis confirmed, looking in the rearview mirror.

“Make sure he’s there, too,” he said, keeping his eyes on you. “Let's get you inside.”

A few minutes later, you found yourself lying in a guest bedroom with a blanket draped over you. Bucky didn't leave your side as he made a couple of calls, but you didn't pay attention to who he was talking to as you stared at the ceiling. You weren't sure if shock was wearing off or sinking in.

“Kotyonok? Dr. Cho’s almost here,” Bucky said, worried when you didn't look at him. “I can run you a bath after she looks you over and give you something for any pain you’re feeling. Or you can just rest.”

You made some sort of humming noise. Today was a day in your life that should've been fun, a day to remember a nice outing with your friends. The memories were tainted now, just like your home. It hurt so much. And you couldn't even message your friends because how would you start to explain what happened?

“What can I do?” he asked. He sounded desperate. This was something out of his control.

“I have to work tomorrow,” you said, testing your wrist and ignoring his question. Work was normal. You needed normalcy. “I have to…”

“What? No, you’re not working tomorrow. Mrs. Crandle will understand,” he said, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your wrist. You went rigid for a moment before you relaxed. He wouldn't hurt you. “You need to rest and stay here.”

You sniffled. What were you going to say if you called in? That a customer attacked you? “My stuff…” you said. There were things at your apartment you wanted, needed.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll make sure it's brought here. It isn't safe for you to go back there.”

“How long do I have to stay here?” you asked. Would you be a prisoner now as a means to keep you safe? He had every excuse in the world now to do so since his home was safer than yours ever was.

“We need to discuss some fail-safes, like getting you a panic button.”

“Kind of surprised you didn't make me carry one from the start,” you commented.

“You've been a bit skittish because of how I went about everything. If I gave you a panic button, it may have scared you into never leaving your place and I couldn't do that to you.”

He had a point, but you wouldn't say so. “But you could install cameras and have men like Ray and Curtis watch me?”

“Because I know I put you in danger, which is a reason why I did those things and why I wanted you here for good. I also wanted you here for selfish reasons, but your safety is the top priority,” he smiled sadly.

You almost laughed. He preached over and over about your safety and it turned out he was right in some way. “Looks like you got your wish,” you said, trying not to tear up again. “You’re moving me in before the month’s out.”

He looked stricken. “It wasn't supposed to be like this,” he whispered.

You studied him with a careful eye. Part of you thought in the beginning that he was twisted enough to arrange a setup so he could step in and play the hero, but he would never do something like that to you. He’d never let anyone else touch you if he could help it. And he couldn't fake the pain in his eyes. It hurt him that you were hurt.

“I really am thankful that you showed up tonight,” you said.

“I go where you go,” he swore, curling up beside you. “Always.”

He’d follow you into hell if you asked him to do so. “Will you please do me a favor?” you asked.

“Anything,” he replied.

“Cl… He mentioned his ex-girlfriend. Lois,” you said. “Can you make sure she’s okay?”

You weren't certain if Clark attacked you on Zemo’s orders or if it had nothing to do with Zemo at all, but you were afraid for Lois. As obsessive as Bucky was, it was a saving grace tonight that you had someone looking out for you. Not an excuse, but a silver lining.

“You're hurt and you're thinking of someone else?” he asked in awe.

You bristled for no good reason at all. “You don't have to worry about me. I’m fine.” You inhaled and exhaled, trying to compartmentalize again. If you could just go to sleep and pretend everything was normal, that you were just a florist with an average life… “I’m fine.”

Bucky shook his head. “You're not fine.”

“Of course I’m not fine! Nothing is fine!” you snapped. He didn't flinch. Didn't move. “I was followed! I was attacked! I…”

You were living in a nightmare.

Your chest heaved before Bucky put your face in his chest. The dam built up inside you, all the turmoil and stress you tried desperately to keep from surfacing, finally broke and overflowed. Your fingers curled in his shirt and it all came out in heart wrenching sobs, as if a piece of you died. You cried until your head hurt and your throat felt raw. Until you didn't think you had any tears left to cry.

He held you through it all, being the calm in your emotional storm, your source of comfort instead of your tormentor. “It isn't fair,” you cried. It wasn't fair what you were going through, but life was never fair.

“It isn't,” he agreed, not letting you go when you stopped crying. “But I’ll make them pay and we’ll get through this together.”

“Together?”

“Together,” he whispered.

You had to believe he was telling the truth, that things would look up and you’d heal from the pain. You'd either hold your head high or Bucky would hold your head up for you. Like everything else in your life recently, you had no other choice but to grin and bear it. And no matter what, Bucky would be by your side through it all.

Because everything led back to him, the threads of fate weaved together by his very hands.

And breathe, lovelies. This was a heavy chapter for me to write, and I just want to give Kotyonok all the love and comfort and wine and money and everything. What is Bucky going to do to Clark? Do we think Zemo will be pleased when he finds out what Clark did? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[greenandsorrow]

Hi! How are you? Could you write the alphabet to yandere salesman sfw?pleasee

Hey anon! I'm doing great rn (after a month of creative hiatus, personal & family struggles, procrastinating uni projects, etc), I found my will to live again & it's partially because I love summer! I live in Greece, so I get the premium experience, but don't let that make you think Mykonos summer either 😅

SFW SALESMAN ALPHABET

~Yandere edition~

A = Affection

He's subtle.

You won't catch him smothering you in public affection, but everything he does is for you ...gifts, favors, well-timed "coincidences". His affection is layered beneath polite smiles and measured glances that linger a little too long.

B = Blood

He doesn't get messy if he can help it. Blood is conspicuous. But if someone threatens you? They'll disappear without a drop spilled.

His violence is clinical, silent and never traced back.

C = Communication

The kind of man who shows up when you least expect it, always knowing exactly what to say. He actually listens more than he talks. Every word you say is stored away like treasure -he'll use it to charm or manipulate when needed.

D = Devotion

Unshakable.

Eternal.

You may think you're just a fleeting fascination -but to him, you're the only game worth playing. His devotion is silent and terrifying, like a noose you didn't know was already around your neck.

E = Effort

He's strategic. You'll receive tailored job offers, bumped into by "chance" at cafes, surprise gifts in your mailbox.

He won't just love you -he'll fucking engineer your life so you can't imagine existing without him.

F = Fear

He doesn't want you to fear him… but he wouldn't mind it either.

Fear makes people obedient. If you're a little scared, at least it means you're paying attention.

G = Games

Everything is a game.

From psychological chess to manipulation, he thrives on.... You guessed it. Strategy. You'll never know if he's being genuine -or if you're already part of something much larger.

H = Hell

He'd easily walk through hell to keep you safe.

But he'd also drag others into hell without blinking if they got in the way. For him, morality bends around you like gravity.

I = Intimacy

Nothing too forward.

Just enough to make you wonder... "Did he mean that touch? That stare? That compliment?" He likes to keep you unsteady. Intimacy is a slow burn -until you're the one begging for closeness.

J = Jealousy

Sharp and controlled.

He'll smile through his white teeth while someone flirts with you, then have that person blacklisted, evicted, or quietly vanish.

He doesn't raise his voice. He raises consequences.

K = Kidnapping

Only if necessary.

If you keep resisting, if the world won't let you be together -then yes. He'll make you disappear into comfort, luxury, and him.

You won't suffer. He'll make sure of it.

L = Love Letters

Handwritten notes.

Cryptic riddles.

Ddakji folded with messages inside.

His confessions are veiled but unmistakably sincere.

M = Manipulation

Master of it.

He won't guilt trip you. He'll re-route your whole life until choosing him feels like your idea. He doesn't break wills -he remodels them.

N = Neediness

On the surface? Calm, composed, professional.

But beneath it all, he's starving for your attention. The moment you pull away, he feels it like withdrawal.

You're his addiction.

O = Obsession

You aren't just someone he likes.

You're the variable.

The great unknown he wants to understand and possess. He tracks your patterns, habits, even your silences. You're the equation of his life.

P = Protection

You'll never feel unsafe -because you aren't. He watches everything. If someone even thinks about hurting you, or even sabotaging you, they won't get the chance to act.

Q = Quirks

He always carries red and blue ddakji, even if he's not playing. Sometimes he leaves them for you.

A token. A warning. A dare.

And he always adjusts his tie before speaking to you, even if it's already perfect.

It's less about neatness and more about control.

R = Rage

It's rare and silent.

No yelling. Just a shift in atmosphere. Eyes colder. Voice lower. When he's angry, it feels like the world is suddenly dangerous in a way you can't describe.

S = Stalking

Of course.

He has cameras, microphones and eyes everywhere. You don't notice it, not until he casually mentions something he shouldn't know.

T = Touch

Light, polite, deliberate.

A hand on your lower back. Brushing fingers as he hands you something. When he finally lets himself truly touch you, it'll be after he's ensured you won't pull away.

U = Uncanny

There's something about him that feels off, even when he's being charming.

The too-perfect smile, the way he never seems caught off-guard. Like he's always ten steps ahead.

V = Violence

He prefers psychological warfare.

But if it must be done, as previously mentioned, he's surgical. Efficient. Cold.

You'll never see it, but you'll feel its absence, like someone neatly erased from your life. Maybe that waiter that always smiled too much while taking your order.

W = Weakness

You.

He's built himself to be untouchable, but you… you're his flaw. He'd give up the game for you.

Or worse-

He'd rewrite the rules of his life around you.

X = Xoxo (hugs & kisses)

Rare and restrained.

He doesn't kiss in public. But in private? Slow. Possessive. Like he's claiming you, like you're a victory.

Y = Yearning

Constant.

Quiet.

Torturous.

He's always thinking of you. Planning and imagining. His yearning bleeds into everything he does -it's the only real thing left in his world.

Z = Zen

His calm is unnerving.

Even when furious, he never loses control. He believes the world is chaos and that you're the only variable worth anchoring to.

You are his peace, even if he's your storm.

Hope you liked it and I'm so sorry for the huge ass delay! I kept the reader neutral bc you didn't specify a gender.

Squid Game masterlist

Support your struggling uni student! Ty! PayPalLink ♥️

[heartmix]

Unwritten Rule - Joe Burrow

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Taylor!reader

Word Count: 3k+

Warning: coach's little sister trope, talks of hazing

A/N: originally a nick bosa fic but he's a trump supporter so no thanks. also got tired of editing this after so long.

Masterlist / NFL Masterlist

It was an unwritten rule not to date any of the coaches' family members. Especially the head coach's little sister. That was the first rule that the veterans in the locker room told him on the first day of camp. Joe was quite confused about why that was the first unwritten rule that his teammates would tell him. Did she work for the organization? How often would she be around? All of these questions and more ran through the quarterback's mind. 

His questions were answered when the second week of camp came around. He saw you there with the coach and sporting a camera in your hands. You're the one that makes everyone look good in the public eye.

"Remember the rule, Burrow." Tyler Boyd said, snapping the rookie out of his trance as they headed to the practice field.

To everyone else, it seemed like he was avoiding you by not interacting with the media which was a good look to his teammates, but he wasn't exactly doing that. He tried to stand out more not only for the coaches, but to be caught on camera by you so hopefully, he would get more attention and a small chance you'd approach him so he didn't have to. No one batted an eye to what he was doing, figuring he was that rookie who wanted to show off like most do. 

His plan seemed to work because he got talked about more thanks to the coaches and your footage which tends to be covered a lot in the media. What shocked him about his plan was that you came up to talk to him, he couldn't believe it worked out.

"Hey, LSU, wait up!" She called out to him as he went for a bathroom break inside the facility where no one was except for a janitor in the halls.

"Oh um hey." He said not really knowing how he should talk to the girl, he didn't want to say the wrong thing and scare her off.

"I just wanted to say that you are one of the best rookies this team has had in a while. Frankly, they really need your talent." She said, making the football player smile and blush at her praises.

"Oh, thanks."

"I forgot to introduce myself, I'm Y/n Taylor," She said holding out her hand to shake which he gladly did.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Joe." He said introducing himself.

"Likewise. I also wanted to ask you if you want your training camp content. I usually send you the folder and every week I add to it. Some players like to keep their training camp content, most of the time it's the rookies since it's their first year." She said motioning to her camera.

"Yeah, sure that'll be great."

"Okay, do you have a way I can contact you? A phone number or email? I usually have your guy's email on my record already, but they haven't given it to me yet. I know they are a bit preoccupied with the hype you bring to the season." At this Joe couldn't stop the blushing that was making its way onto his cheeks. He hoped she took it from the heat of the summer training.

"I like messaging better. I have PTSD from emails from college." Joe said, making her chuckle. He could get used to hearing that sound.

"Tell me about it. Although I don't think I escaped the emails with this job." She said before taking his number down on her phone before bidding farewell and walking back to the field. 

It wasn't that long for the photographer to text him about the content like she promised. In fact, the first time she contacted him was the night that she obtained his number much to the rookie's surprise. Joe figured he made the best decision to give the girl his number. He didn't expect them to talk as often as they did. It started off with a simple question about how he wanted his training camp content to be compiled then in lead up to giving him pointers on his work, she was a Taylor after all. 

It got to the point where he didn't realize them hanging out in person was a normal thing. No way did they hang out at the facility where the Bengals organization could see, heaven forbid he broke the rule. If they did talk it seemed professional and limited like she did with other players.

"I wish I could give you tequila for your nerves." She said, handing him an orange juice before sitting on his couch. It was another one of their weekly hangouts. Today was the day before the first game of the season and nerves were high.

"Tequila does the opposite." He chuckled taking a sip from his drink.

"So what, good old-fashioned beer does it? Oh, or are you a classic man with neat bourbon?" He shrugged not knowing the answer. Sure he drank both seeing as his college days were just months ago.

"I guess just beer does it."

"Well just think of it this way, if you're nervous it means you care. With it being normal for something as big as this, don't let it consume you."

"Well, I wouldn't be so nervous if I didn't have all the media looking at me." He said with a smirk side-eyeing her playfully watching the smile spread onto his face.

"Oh, so it's me making you look good through a lens is why you're getting the media coverage and not because you are a first-round draft pick? Okay, then Burrow." You shook your head while he chuckled. After all this time he will never get used to her compliments. 

More nights like that tend to happen as days go by. Even on some practice days when one didn't feel like driving that day, they would catch a ride with each other. It was a miracle no one suspected a thing. The younger Taylor knew about the unwritten rule which she thought it was stupid of her brother to start it. Even though they weren't dating it could come across like they were so she "followed" the rule for Joe. She knew how badly the rookies could get hazed from the older ones, she didn't want that for him.

A few weeks went by, a few weeks with them "sneaking around". Everything they were doing was borderline relationship territory. That got the quarterback to think why weren't they dating. They have been following the rule like they were and he for sure liked her so why don't they give it a shot?

"You want to go to a very public place well into the season with me?" She raised an eyebrow at the man who picked her up from her place as they began driving around. Although Cincinnati wasn't Hollywood, there would still be people out during the night and more importantly, Joe would be the center of attention if he was spotted.

 "Oh come on, I want to have like a nice night out with you, we don't got work and you can even sleep over at mines' after." He pleaded making the girl smile.

"Sounds like a date Burrow." 

"You wouldn't mind?" He questioned making her chuckle at his seemingly nervous tone opposite to his confidence just a second ago. This seemed to be the trend of him getting surprised when his plan would work.

"Only if you asked properly."

He quickly pulled into a nearby supermarket making her raise an eyebrow at the random location. Before she could unbuckle he told her to wait and he'll be right back, only growing her suspicions. After about 5 minutes he came in the car with red roses making her laugh at the gesture. He knew that he had her swoon already.

"What do you say about going out with me on a date?" He asked handing her the flowers.

"Oh, you know how to get my heart beating don't you." She grabbed the flowers smelling it before admiring them.

"So is that a yes?" He asked with a smile even though he knew the answer, he wanted it to come out of her mouth so he could hear it and savor the moment.

"Yes, going out on a date is exactly what I have been hoping for." 

With it being night time the paparazzi weren't really scattered, they were in places like the clubs or any news about a place they heard about a celebrity being. So there was a low chance of being caught by them. Although they weren't in the clear because of the possibility of fans, there didn't seem to be much out and in a talking mood that night. They settled on a Korean BBQ place that wasn't as busy then going to the movies afterward. Before they knew it the night date came and went with the night ending up back at his place stuffed and tired. 

"You are not too bad with planning a date," she said pulling him onto the couch with her as she snuggled into his side while he wrapped his arm around the back of the couch. 

"I'm glad you like our official date." He said smiling down at the girl. 

"We should make this a regular thing." the girl said absentmindedly. This was one of the most chill dates she's ever had. 

"Dating?" He asked with a raised eyebrow totally confused as to what you were referring to. 

"You actually want to date me? Like you want to deal with me?" She asked now fully looking up at him with shock in her eyes. It was one thing to go out on dates and it was another to be dating. 

"Baby, you are amazing who wouldn't want to be with you? I'd be lucky if I got to call you mine."

"Then why don't you."

"Do you want to be mine, baby?" He asked with a half-smirk half-smile already knowing the answer but still being giddy that it was actually happening. Everything involving her surprised Joe.

"Hmmh I'd love to rookie."

After that moment the rookie could not have been more excited. It was very evident in everything he did. He smiled more, he was more cheery with his teammates, and most of all he played better. Many of his teammates found it strange while the coaches let it go, if he was playing better and he seemed happier it was good for them. It did make it hard for them not to interact too long with each other at practices or games, but no one found out which was good. Well, it was good until they did get spotted.

"Aye Burrow come over here for a second." He heard the voice of Boyd say in a tone he did not like. He was hesitant but went over there as asked.

"What's up?" 

"Why did you have to break the rule?"

"Which rule?" He questioned even though he had a feeling of what they were talking about.

"Oh come on don't play stupid. We saw you kiss her after doing a handshake before you guys parted ways when you went to 'check' something." The vet said making him mentally sigh.

The rookie stood there speechless. What was he supposed to say? What could he say? He was not ready and didn't prepare for a conversation in case they got caught. He was naive to think they weren't going to get caught. Honestly, he did not want to walk on eggshells with his wording so he decided to stay quiet seeing that it was the best option or the only option.

"We told you not to break it. It's a bad idea to be with her." Sam said shaking his head at the rookie while everyone made a sound of agreement.

"Wait why? You didn't tell me all of that." He now said getting defensive over her. Why would they say this type of shit? What was so bad about her? The fact that her brother is the head coach is not the worst thing in the world.

"You thinking banging the coach's sister is a good idea? You must be out of your damn mind. That shit doesn't look good."

"Yeah, whatever." He said to the small group that seemed to really care about this topic before walking away to get ready for the game.

While heading out in not the best mood that didn't stop him from playing like he normally did. What took him out of that mood was seeing her with her camera on the sidelines. They never spoke a single sentence while on the sideline of a game, although today she sensed something was different. She went around taking pictures of the team till she reached him.

"Hey, you gonna drop that frown?" She said as she took his picture of him from the side.

"I will now that you are here." He said honestly as any bad thoughts left his mind once he heard your voice.

"I just want to tell you that you are amazing. Make some plays for my lens huh," she said holding up her camera and making him chuckle.

"Yeah sure, I'll do it for your camera." He said while you playfully shook your head walking away. 

That was all he needed to put on an amazing performance like he has been doing week after week. Did he care that he broke the rule? Not really, I mean why would he? He has been the happiest he has ever been and he's also been playing the best he's ever played. If she is making him a better person and a better player he would choose her any day.

"Can I tell you something?" He said as they walked hand in hand on the way up to his apartment. 

"Anything." 

"You are my good luck charm, do you know that?" The football player said looking down at her, giving her hand a squeeze saying he meant it. 

"I did not know that, but now that I think about it you have been playing better." She said mimicking his smile and squeezed his hand back. 

"And I'm happier." He added bending down for a kiss before the doors to the elevator opened. 

"Well so am I." She smiled back after the kiss. 

"Another thing is that some of the guys found out." He quickly let out once they entered the door to his apartment. 

"Really? Is that why you were upset today? They giving you shit?" she asked concerned for him, not that he can't take it, as she stated it was a stupid rule. 

"Yeah, and they said I shouldn't be with you and shit. But I really don't care about what they think. Once I saw you everything left my mind and at that moment I realized that no one is going to make me change the way I feel about you." He said making the younger girl stare at him in awe.

"Holy shit I love you." She blurted out making them both laugh.

"Oh come on, I said some sappy ass shit for once and you ruin it." He joked which she chuckled at. 

"To be fair I thought I said it only in my mind."

"Well, I love you too." He said leaning in for a kiss which she gladly gave him. 

After that, it seemed like they could care less if they got caught, of course, the older Taylor didn't know yet which is why they were still a bit wary of their surroundings when they were at work. The team wasn't totally on board with the relationship after hearing the unwritten rule for years, but it wasn't their relationship to get into, that and the fact that the lady with the camera knew what they said which was scary whenever they were near her. 

The week before the playoffs. The team's spot was already secured which is why the nerves were really low this game, a chill game if you will. It was an alright day to be holding that camera. She knew that they weren't going to get as amazing plays, so she stuck to pictures only for the game. Although she promised to film some of the plays where Joe was on the field, boy was she glad she did. After an amazing save from almost being sacked, he saw an opening and ran it in for a 35-yard touchdown. After doing a quick show-off celebration moment he saw that his girl was recording and decided to run in her direction and picked her up spinning around forgetting that thousands if not millions were watching, one of those was his coach.

"Woah big guy, a touchdown!" She said after he put her down but still held her by the hips.

"My good luck charm, thank you." He said smiling down at her before taking off his helmet.

"Babe I didn't do anything."

"You seem to be doing a whole lot." The voice of the one and only Zac Taylor said making the two scared. 

"Kyle.." She went on in a warning tone but got cut off by him.

"So are you the reason my rookie has been playing better?" He questioned which confused both of them.

"Yeah, I guess so." She answered hesitantly looking at Joe with a raised eyebrow. Any moment she was waiting for them to get chewed out. 

"Are you the reason for her being happier?" Coach now turned to his player asking him. 

"I believe so," he answered scared of what was to come next.

"I'm glad we all benefit. Don't make that celebration an every-game thing, maybe a once-a-month thing." He said ruffing the younger Taylor's hair and smiling at them before walking away.

"Holy shit you had to tell him like that huh." She smacked his chest, well his padding.

Shyly and with a blush he said, "Sorry it was in the moment."

"I didn't say I didn't like it. Tomorrow's date night, you can pick wherever you want. Now go back over there otherwise we'll get in trouble." She said pointing to the bench where the rest of the offensive line was sitting. Half of them with shocked faces the coach didn't do anything and the other half with smirks, proud of their boy.

"Can I get a kiss?" He said with a smirk making her roll her eyes.

"Quick one." She responded as he leaned down for a small peck before he started to walk away.

"Hey, rookie. Picture?" She called out waving her camera making him laugh. She got the camera up in time for his laugh and a wink that he threw her way. She was definitely his good luck charm.

[riemanifests]

You always have two choices.

inspired by a video Nero Knowledge made. so many of you when faced with an unfavorable circumstance, think it's the end. that's it it's over now. this circumstance is my story now and it's here to stay, i can't get what i want anymore. ignorance. every single time something happens in your 3d, whether favorable or not, you have two choices in how you respond to it. Choice 1: Accept it you can choose to accept it, allow it into your life, and let it stay in your reality. you take it as a part of your story now. Choice 2: Flip it you can choose to deny it, get rid of it, and flip it to a desirable event. you change the story and decide that the old circumstance will not stay. some of you will choose choice one and then complain because you'd rather have the outcome of choosing choice two. well babes, all you have to do is make choice two!

Examples:

say your sp tells you that they want to break up choice one would be to accept it and move on from your sp choice two would be to deny it and manifest your sp wanting you say you're applying for a job and all of the sudden the role is filled. choice one would be to accept it and find another job choice two would be to deny it and manifest getting the role anyways say you suddenly lost $500 dollars and you need to pay the bills choice one would be to accept it and scramble to find the money choice two would be to deny it and manifest the money back you may think that the moment you experience a circumstance, the choice was already made for you, but it was not. you need to understand that there is no set story for you and especially not by the 3d, shit just happens to you and then you decide whether or not to keep it. you can edit reality at any time, and that means adding things into your life as well as removing things from your life. why do you believe that you can manifest things into your life but that you can't manifest things out of your life? every single reality exists right now including one where you have your favorable circumstances. so you can either keep limiting yourself and thinking you can't manifest the shit you want, or wake tf up and realize the power you hold.

How you can start making choice two:

whenever something happens that you don't like, think to yourself: - do i want to accept this? am i okay with this being in my life? if not, then ask yourself this: - what would i rather have happen instead? what do i want instead? now your job is to let the old story go. let it fucking go, do not speak of it do not stress over it and do not think about it, just let it go because that is the old story and that is no longer your reality anymore. you are editing the story so there's no need to worry about what it was like before since it's already changed now. what you want to do is decide that what you want to happen instead has happened, and it happened already. do not go looking at the 3d then crying bc it "looks the same", no be stubborn and get a grip, command that your story has changed and be faithful to it. again keep thinking that what you want to happen has happened now and that's it. that's literally all you have to do, so do it. reality must rearrange itself to match the changes you have decided for it. so every time you're met with an unfavorable circumstance, don't go straight into victim mode crying about how "omg the 3d showed me this it has power over me this is my life now blah blah bla-" no shut the fuck up and think about the choice you want to make, and then make it. also please know that it's okay to accept shit in the 3d even if you know u can change it, like if you're fine with that circumstance in your life then by all means keep it. but if not? then don't complain instead do yourself a favor and just flip it. you're also able to switch choices, so let's say you decide to accept a situation but now you want to change it you're still capable of that. nothing is definite and you need to realize that.

[authorchariot]

ACCESSING FILE: [NSFW_PERSONALITY_PROFILE]

ENTERING RECORD…

aftercare: how do they treat their partner after intimacy?

so many cuddles and little kisses. he's so clingy. he might also need reassurance that he did a good job because his self-esteem is down the drain and he needs you to reassure him that he was good enough. other than that, it might be time for a tall glass of milk, maybe a snack and then a nap

head pats. head pats and giving you little praises (if you deserve it) then another round. mister perfect doesn't take no breaks and he won't let you slack off until he's running on fumes. might take a few days

aftercare? what's that? lol

body part: their favourite part of their partner's body?

your hands. he likes absently playing with them when you're out in public or holding on tight when you're in the bedroom

your ass. absolutely your ass; squeezing it, slapping it, kissing it. sentry is an ass man; confirmed

your eyes, particularly when you realise he's about to deliver a punishment or something of the like. he likes the power

control: do they prefer to dominate, submit or switch?

bobby is not really in the right headspace to be doing anything dom/sub-related. as stated previously, i think this man needs a lot of cuddles, a slow blowjob and then lots of cheek kisses and he'll be having a wonderful time

dom, specifically a very cocky, teasing dom. he will tie you up and tell you to beg and then give you praise. edit: if he feels safe enough with you, he could be a very good slut puppy 🐶🐶

a mean dom (cred. libby). he's going to spit in your mouth, face-fuck you and then berate you/laugh because you look like shit

dirty talk: how vocal are they? do they enjoy talking dirty?

he tries. god, he tries so hard. but he never has the conviction behind the words and he usually just ends up a flushed, stuttery mess. he likes when you do it though. in terms of being vocal, he whines a lot

yes, yes, yes. he has the confidence to say the dirtiest stuff imaginable. especially if it gets you off as well, he will say some absolutely filthy, reprehensible shit without hesitation

yes but in a mean way. very degrading with lots of backhanded compliments; which is great, if you like that kind of thing

experience: how experienced are they?

none of them have a lot of experience but they all deal with it in different ways. in my head, the last time bob got laid was probably before the sentry project (i don't know how long the period is between those two points in bobby lore), when he was dealing with his drug addiction. i feel like he probably slept around a bit at that point, maybe got a few stds that had to get checked out

fantasy: what's their ultimate fantasy?

bobby wants to be claimed and marked up good. but it more the symbolism of that that excites him. it's feeling like he was worthy enough to be chosen by you, being cherished enough to claim and, especially if you mark him in visible places, that you like him enough to show the world that he's valuable enough to belong to someone. it's less about being below someone and more about feeling safe and worthy in that environment

anything that makes him feel powerful; rough sex, spanking, choking, biting, face-fucking, tying you up and edging you, shoving you up against a mirror so he can watch while he's fucking you, being called a god during the act, etc. literally anything where he can establish dominance. he's a narcissist and he fully plays into it but he loves praise and gratitude from his sub

he wants a pet, a personal fuck toy; using your holes whenever and wherever he wants, without shame and without question. lots of degradation, face-slapping and probably spit kink just to be extra nasty

grip: how physical do they get? handsy, rough or gentle?

very handsy and clingy. he prefers holding your hands while you guys are at it but he'll also take spooning you from behind or something similar. if you're getting intimate with bobby, he always needs something to ground him in the moment

handsy and usually in a rougher way. he likes choking and hair-pulling specifically but he has the capacity to be gentle once he's completely rundown, if you're still conscious (or alive) that is

not completely certain about everything to do with void but i feel like he's more detached in this department unless he feels like his hold on you is in jeopardy and he tends to be pretty confident that he's possessed you; body, mind and soul

hair: groomed, natural or styled a certain way?

bob doesn't really care as long as it isn't getting in the way of anything so he'll keep it natural for the most part

sentry prefers to go the whole 9 yards; having his taint and between his cheeks professionally waxed and having the hair at the base of his cock manicured, making sure to leave just the lightest happy trail down his abdomen

void could not care less honestly. you'll take him as you find him

intimacy: are they more emotionally or physically driven?

very emotionally driven. intimacy is more about being present with you and the both of you enjoying the time together which is why he clings to you and constantly checks if you're feeling okay during the act

more physically driven but he's not completely immune to emotion. it just has to be with a very special person where he lets his guard down and lets that part of him show

again, more physically driven but this leads well into the next section

jealousy: how do they handle competition or flirtation?

bob tends to kind of curl in on himself and put himself down, telling himself that you deserve better than him. even though you always come back, there's always that fear that this time you won't because you've finally realised what a shitty guy he is. of course, when you come back he's so so thankful but he still needs that reassurance

he doesn't take kindly to people thinking they can take his partner. with sentry, he puts most of the blame on the person hitting on you. he'll try and schmooze them first (have a bit of a dick-measuring competition) but if they're still going after you, he will just threaten them. god forbid they touch you....

again, he doesn't take kindly to it but this time he just gets really possessive and touchy-feely. you're his, not anyone else's, and he won't let you forget it. that being said, if someone touches you, he will just poof them

kinks: what are their top kinks?

he's not really much into kinks but he likes little symbols of affection, whether that be; hickeys, scratches, creampies (rare) and praise. he loves to be reminded that he's doing well and that you love him

breeding kink, dirty talk, dom/sub, facials, multiple rounds, pet names, praise kink (giving and receiving), spanking, etc

begging from you, degradation, marking you, spit kink, etc

location: favourite place(s) to get intimate?

bedroom, for sure. it's quiet, private, comfortable and safe. some might argue a little boring but like.... don't bully him maybe? he's a soft boy. if you won't take him at this safe stage, you don't deserve him at his experimental stage 😤😤

he loves putting on a show so maybe on a balcony or against a window in the watchtower where, if people just looked up, you could see what he was doing to you

quiet, dark corners, whether that be in the bedroom or in the back of a truck after a mission or down some corridor in the venue of a charity event. if he wants it, he'll get it, wherever you are

moans: are they loud, quiet or somewhere in between?

loud. we know how loud he is when he's just trying to stop himself from sneezing. can you imagine how loud he is when he's about to cum??

loud and kind of animalistic, grunting and groaning as he ruts into you oomph

quiet breathing down the back of your neck and whispers against your ear

nudes: do they send or receive? how do they feel about it?

nonononono he does not have the confidence for that just yet. maybe as he gets to be more comfortable, later in the relationship, but for now nudes and sexting just kind of send him into a bit of a tizzy. if you send him nudes though? he's absolutely going to need like 10 mins alone in his room/the bathroom so he can take care of himself

will absolutely send nudes. expect ones when he wakes up with morning wood or when he's getting ready and he's checking himself out in the mirror. i mean, he's able to just look in the mirror and see how sexy he is. why not share with the less fortunate, right?

no, if he's horny, he's hunting you down. get that digital shit out of here

oral: do they enjoy giving or receiving more?

bob's nervous about both giving and receiving due to his lack of experience but he gets really excited when he receives oral because it's just so nice to be cared for! but he'll take time learning how to give oral as well because he does get satisfaction from hearing you moan and praise him as he does it

prefers receiving but he will give, if you've been good

definitely receives more but he enjoys teasing and edging you if you really beg for his mouth on you

pace: do they go fast and rough, slow and sensual or mix it up?

prefers slow and caring sex but occasionally gets himself worked up and is in need of a quick grind

varied. it can be slow and deep or fast and rough, it really depends what kind of mood he's in

slow but deep and punishing. he wants to take his time and make sure you know who you belong to

quickies: are they into quick encounters or do they take their time?

he prefers to take his time but, as above, that's not always what he needs. that being said, if he just needs to cum, he'll usually go take a shower or bust one out real quick in the bedroom on his own. if he's with you, he prefers to savour it

absolutely. if you're down for a quickie, he'll find the closest semi-private spot and just go to town

no, it tends to be long encounters. they can be hours that feel like days of just torment but every time it's worth it

risk: how adventurous are they?

he'll slowly start to open up to new things; maybe toss in a vibrator or a pair of handcuffs and slowly up the ante. it'll take a while to find the things he likes but, once he's open to it, he loves experimenting with you

he'll do anything that strikes his fancy but he makes sure you're into it as well. if it's a hard no, he'll steer clear because, at the end of the day, if you're not enjoying it as well, it's not worth the time. if you're dating, he respects you and respects your choices

i mean, fucking the void is like an eldritch horror-like experience anyway. what more do you really want?

stamina: how long can they last? do they go multiple rounds?

maybe a round or two? he gets pretty easily overwhelmed

he can go for literal days. you'll probably pass out before he's fully drained his balls so don't expect to keep up with him

it's difficult to tell when one round ends and the next begins. it feels like it goes on forever

teasing: are they good at teasing or do they break easily?

as mentioned in dirty talk, bobby isn't very good with things like this as he usually gets himself wound up just thinking about it before he actually says anything

sentry absolutely teases. he loves getting you on your knees and giving you orders not to touch yourself or touch him

teasing is his forte. he won't give you want until you're crying and begging for it. and even then he might still say no just to see you whine and beg more

unsafe: how serious are they about safe sex?

bobby prefers having it raw but he obviously respects if you ask him to wear a condom. he usually asks first and, if you prefer him to wrap it beforehand, he'll have a stash on his nightstand and will just do it automatically. when it comes to this, he's all about your safety and comfort level

prefers to go in raw. he's clean in terms of stds and, if you're afab, you should be thankful if he knocks you up (he's actually kind of hoping for it) because he's carrying some ✨stellar✨ genes

raw. every time. i'm honestly still debating whether or not you could get pregnant from the void....

volume: how much do they cum?

the regular amount; maybe about a teaspoon or so?

half a cup to a cup. this man's body (and his balls) are on a whole different level

similar to sentry but, again, i feel like i'd need to develop a whole new biology for the void to fully answer this

wildcard: a random nsfw fact about them

bobby is absolutely down for anal. when you first start sleeping together, he might not have actually done anal play with another person before but the thought gets him really excited and he's absolutely fingered himself before

has a little bit of a breeding kink and gets super turned on when he sees his massive load dripping out of you, secretly praying that it'll take. he won't open up about it until a long time into the relationship but he really likes the thought of becoming a parent; succeeding where is own parents failed

goes into a bit of a frenzy if he's feeling like you might be slipping through his fingers. if you're starting to question your love for him or if you've been seen talking to other people, he starts to get nervous ergo aggressive and this can lead to really long, passionate sessions where he insists on possessing you or it can trigger bob to come back out and he just really needs you to hold him and tell him everything's okay

x-rated: do they watch/read porn?

yes but it tends to be the amateur stuff because it feels more real to him. he has a list of channels on his phone of his preferred creators, usually ones who are married or are in long-term relationships so they have real chemistry

he prefers to make and watch his own porn. he likes knowing that other people are getting off to it and it means he can get new angles and watch them as many times as he wants. and you too can now subscribe to the sentry's onlyfans for only $9.99 a month!

no, why bother when you're sat right next to him or if you're in the next room? if you're away then that's trickier but he prefers to dig through the laundry hamper and smell your underwear to get off or something of the like

yearning: how often do they crave intimacy? are they always in the mood?

he's always craving intimacy but it doesn't have to be sexual. even if it's just holding hands or cuddling, he usually likes to be close and have some kind of physical connection to you. even if you're away, he might insist on wearing a sweater of yours just to keep you close

yes, constantly horny but he can push it down if he really has to 😒😒

again more like bob but in more of a possessive way. he likes having some form of contact, whether that be his fingers around your wrist or his hand on the back of your neck. just something to remind him that you're his

zzz: how do they act after intimacy? do they cuddle, sleep or leave?

lots of snuggles, lots of kisses and falling asleep in a comfortable tangle of limbs. he usually gets super sleepy after sex

he'll make sure you're okay, might curl up with you for a bit, especially if he's got you really fucked out

he will just straight up leave. you usually get bob afterward, apologising if void said anything or did anything that was out of pocket while he was out

taglist: @ingoldthewizard @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @starwarskawaii

[localkiss]

(edit bc bitches can't read for shit.)

re2 leon is so...... 😭 Like can I eat him??

Also, a lot of the fics about him are him being all whiny and subby like. ..um did we play the same re2 remake ? Where was he like this 😭😭🧍🏻‍♀️

BEFORE U SAY ANYTHING!!!!!

I get it, but the dude is not submissive in my eyes ! He isn't a hard dom that's for sure. He's more of a soft dom/ does whatever tf you want. More laid-back and lets you roam free for the most part.

Prob would stare at you like this if you were to try and give him a rim job:

He'd be like, "What are you doing ??" Bc I know his ass doesn't clean himself like that. He's a man! 😭

i know this man would want to handcuff you but like he would constantly be checking in. "Babe, are you sure?" "You okay? Does it hurt?" "Let me know if it's too much, okay? I'll take them off, if you want me to."

Don't get me wrong tho. Leon would gladly get on his knees and start to worship your body from head to toe. Thinks you deserve to be loved and cared for, treated for like a beautiful doll! I think he would be the one out of all of them (maybe besides DI Leon), to be okay w/ you putting lil makeup on him.

I think he would love to leave small little marks or wear something matching. Omg he would enjoy a handmade bracelet 🤭!!

Okay since his ass works out everyday, I think he'd think it would be funny to have you fight him. 😭Dude would find it cute when you try and break free from his grasp. DEAD ASS HE WOULD DEF PRACTICE ARRESTING PPL ON YOU AND LIKE READING YOU, YOUR MIRANDA RIGHTS. (is that still a thing... I heard it wasn't ?? Anyways..)

"Babe, I told you to try and resist." He pins you down with ease, using one hand. His other hand is currently reaching for his handcuffs on his belt. Straddling over your hips, pressing into your ass to also hold you down. Trying not to put all his weight on your body, not wanting to hurt you because you're not a real criminal. It's just practice.

You try and kick out with a whine, "I am trying Leon! You're just too strong." Yeah, that feeds to his small ego. Also feeds his friend down there, who's poking you as you lay underneath him. With each shift and groan, he lets out a shaky breath.

Crazy how you're not doing much, but it's doing a whole lot to him. He decides to be cheeky and leans down to roll his hips forward against your ass. "You really can't do nothing now," he clicks the handcuffs on your wrists, giving it a tug to make sure it's not loose.

I'm pulling my hair out. I need him. I'm 🤓