#sorry for frying your eyes as well with my abuse of yellow but not my fault it fucks so much!!!!.

[caffeinatedrogue]

break between work/ treat myself time aka 'draw your oc once every blue moon'...never managed to do any serious art of them in all these years so now I am rectifying it :') I might have fried my eyes while doing this but :''''''''') worth it cause I couldn't get this composition idea out of my mind and it came out just like what I wanted it to be

#cyberpunk 2077 #sandayu oda #arasaka #cyberpunk2077 #cp77 #oc: andy hastings #plug n play bitch with bonus cutting options x stabbity fast neon demon #my beloveds #art tag #mystuff #after delivering this art that caters to me and to me only I'm gonna go die in bed now ig bye #sorry for frying your eyes as well with my abuse of yellow but not my fault it fucks so much!!!!.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬3

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death'; violence, attempted rape.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So this is for black Friday and then I’ll be working all today and tomorrow and schedule’s are super late so I dunno when Im working after that. Hope you guys enjoy and don’t hesitate to drop by my asks.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Arvin let you pick the record. You found it among the box of your daddy’s music. It was one of your favourites and you were glad he wasn’t bothered by Patsy Cline’s droll tones. He seemed to enjoy it as he sat and read a magazine and you searched for a button from your large tin to match that missing from Roy’s jacket.

“You ever listen to Elvis?” He looked up from behind the pages.

“I… I heard him on the radio but you know we haven’t got new records since Daddy died,” you said as you continued your hunt. “And Roy don’t like all that new music. He says it’s no good.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to like much, does he?” Arvin sniffed, “I always knew he was a grouch but I just thought it was the job.”

“He’s not… He’s just stressed. He works so much.” You looked down and settled on a button that was close enough. 

“You do too,” Arvin hid behind the magazine again. “You should be the one goin’ out and doin’ what you like on a Saturday. Hell, if he ain’t gonna spend his time with you, you should do something of your own.”

“I like sewing,” you shrugged as you threaded the button, “You know, it’s not so bad. I get time to myself. A lot of people can’t say that.”

“Sounds pretty lonely to me,” he flicked the page.

You were silent. You didn’t know how to respond. He was skirting around what he really wanted to say, what you didn’t want him to talk about. The tension in the air thickened as you feared he would admit that he knew or you might confess that your husband wasn’t much of one. Hell, you’d yet to accept that yourself.

Your fears were assuaged by the sudden clatter on the porch and the hinges of the door as it was swung open. You sat up and set aside Roy’s jacket. You stood as he staggered inside. He always did like to drink when he fished, or did much of anything else. You frowned as he tracked mud in on his tall rubber boots.

“Roy, you’re making a mess,” you said as you went to the doorway and watched him stumble around the entryway.

“Keep ya busy,” he slapped a hand on the wall and wiggled his leg free of a boot. “There’s a whole pail of fish out front too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed as his cheeks glowed. You doubted he’d be awake that long. “Well, I’ll just fry those up while you sit down.”

“Agh,” he tripped over his other boot as he slipped it off and Arvin brushed by you to catch him.

“Hey, Roy,” he took his arm, “How was the fishing? Why don’t you sit down? We’ll have a beer.”

“I almost forgot about you, boy,” he shook free of Arvin and ambled closer to you, “Maybe you can hide away after dinner for a while?”

He dragged his hand up your thigh and slapped your ass as he passed you. Arvin turned as Roy clumsily traipsed into the living room and fell onto the couch. He looked at you but you couldn’t stand to meet his.

“Sure,” Arvin uttered, “I’ll just go get those fish first.”

He disappeared through the front door and you crossed your arms as you turned to watch your husband. His head lolled as he chuckled.

“You think he ever fucked a girl?” He asked, “Boy tiptoes around like a virgin.”

“That’s crass, Roy,” you reproached.

“Don’t act so innocent,” he snapped, “If you didn’t, maybe I’d… well.”

His words trailed off and he closed his eyes. He yawned and sighed loudly. You grimaced and listened to the door as it hit the frame again. Arvin continued onto the kitchen as Roy began to snore. It must have been a record how quickly he’d passed out this time.

You went through to the kitchen as Arvin drained the water from the pail of fish. You went to the drawer and got a knife. You rest it on its end as you gripped it and looked out the window.

“He’s already out for the night,” you said, “You hungry?”

“I said I’d make the fish, I meant it.”

“Nah, I’ll flay them and put ‘em in the fridge,” you swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That you’re stuck here with us. Sorry he’s always drunk.” You looked down at the blade. You didn’t say what you really wanted to. Sorry you were stupid enough to choose Roy.

“That isn’t your fault and you know, I don’t mind it so much.” He neared, “We’re friends now, aren’t we? That’s worth it.”

You nodded but couldn’t smile. He always tried to make things seem nicer than they were. He was much better at it than you were.

“You comin’ to church tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he answered like it was obvious.

You turned away and laid out the fish across the cutting board. He stayed behind you, the record silenced and began to skip.

“I think I got somethin’ nice I can find.” He left you and the crackle of the Victrola died.

You slice the fish, careful not to cut your fingers as you deboned it and tossed away the heads and tails. You heard Arvin speak in a low voice and a grumble. Then heavy footsteps interspersed with lighter ones. The stairs groaned and you kept on, wrapping the filets in paper and tucking it away.

You cleaned up and washed the smell off your hands. The living room was empty so you climbed the stairs and found Roy face down on your bed. You turned to the open attic and Arvin descended the ladder.

“You got him to bed?” You tilted your head.

“Wasn’t so hard. Poked him a few times.” He grinned. “So what time do I needa be ready for church?”

“We leave about twenty minutes before service. It’s at eight.” You answered, “Oh, you know what--” You raised your index finger, “One sec.”

You spun and scurried into your father’s room. It was just as it had been before he died except now there were boxes stacked along one wall. You pushed open the closet and fluttered through the clothes hanging within. You pulled out the old grey suit and white shirt that had yet to yellow. You grabbed a tie from the drawer as you passed the dresser.

You smelled them as you went back to the door as Arvin peeked in.

“For church,” you held them out, “My daddy was a bit taller but he got skinny near the end. I can pin up the pants for you and you’ll look just fine.”

“Oh,” he face paled, “You-- I can’t--”

“Roy’ll never fit into these so please,” you pushed them against his chest. “And I don’t think he’ll be up in time for church so I need you to drive.”

He smiled and took the clothes. He hugged them as if they were precious. “Thank you. I’m gonna sound like you for a moment but you really didn’t have to.”

“You think I’m gonna forget that you promised to make the fish? It’ll be a nice Sunday night dinner.” You inhaled deeply, “I think that for tonight, I’m gonna lay down though.”

“Alright,” he let you past, “You have a good night.”

“You too,” you neared your bedroom door as Roy’s snores grew louder, “Might have to stuff my ears with cotton.”

🚬

As you expected, Roy was too hungover to get up for church. You didn’t really go for the sermons but your daddy made it a habit when you were young to make sure you got to see the other kids in town. Sunday school had socialised you in the circles of the small town but they had proven less than welcoming. And since you’d grown out of your education, you went to trade recipes with some of the other wives.

Arvin was awake before you. As you pulled a cardigan over your blue dress you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and he appeared from the front room.

“Oh, Arvin,” you smiled, “That suit looks real nice on you. And the pants…”

“I sewed them myself last night,” he lifted his foot, “Remembered a few stitches.” He straightened the jacket, “You look real good too.”

“Well, aren’t we a pair?” You chimed. “Gonna have to be since Roy hasn’t moved since you dragged him to bed.”

“After you,” he waved to the door, “Think we should get goin’. My daddy woulda whipped me being late for the lord’s prayer.

You led him out the door and climbed into the truck opposite him. He turned the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. You felt calm as you smelled the early morning dew and you looked out the window as he shifted into gear. The lush green grass passed you by and trees swayed as he steered along the old country road.

As always, the church was crowded. You and Arvin squeezed in at the back. He was quiet and sombre as you entered. As you sat, you looked over at him. His jaw squared as the preacher came out and began his weekly scourge. A fire burned behind Arvin’s brown irises and he scowled for a moment before his face went placid.

You looked forward and folded your hands as you listened to Father Milton. You never cared much for his talk of hellfire and brimstone, to be fair, your daddy didn’t either, but in a small town, everyone knew when one was away from service. Roy never cared what anyone thought but you had to deal with Noreen and the other ladies at the grocer or around town about their own tasks.

When mass finished, you stood but Arvin hesitated. He stared up at the altar before he finally rose. He nodded to you and followed you and the other worshippers out into the sun.

You heard your name as you headed for the truck. You stopped and Arvin did too. You turned as Noreen, a woman older than yourself who fashioned herself to be the model for all society ladies, approached you. She wore a wide-brimmed hat over her blonde hair and took short steps in her heels.

“You promised me that carrot cake recipe. The one with the raisins.” She said. “Now I’ve been hounding you for three weeks.”

“Oh, uh,” you unclasped your pocketbook and fished out the card you’d made sure to stow after last Sunday. “Right here. I’m sorry, Noreen, but I gotta get back.”

“Where is Roy? Was he off drinkin’ again? You know, the lord did warn us all against excess.”

“Well, perhaps we can get him to come next week and you can warn him,” Arvin intoned and Noreen looked over in shock.

“Excuse me. And who is this… man you have as your escort?”

“Roy is letting the attic out to him. They work together. This is Arvin.”

“Arvin Russell,” he introduced firmly. 

“That’s an unusual name,” Noreen remarked, “You’re not from here?”

“No, but from a place like this.” He countered, “I’m gonna go get the truck goin’.”

He turned without courtesy and marched away. You looked back to Noreen as she curled her lip.

“Oh, he is a rough one, isn’t he? You have that scoundrel livin’ with you?”

“He’s a good man. Helps around the house. It’s a big place and Missy Grable has a tenant of her own.”

“Missy Grable has a farmhand to tend the fields,” Noreen lifted her chin.

You weren’t certain what to say. Noreen always found issue with whatever you said and you hated to give her further reason to.

“Well, here’s the recipe. I really ought to go.” You said.

“I understand, honey,” She smirked, “Your husband needs his caretaker… oh sorry, wife.”

You flinched but said nothing else. Your shoulders dropped as you turned away and dragged your heels through the dirt. You opened the truck and climbed in without a word. You clutched your pocketbook and stared ahead as Arvin back out of the lot.

“Pardon my saying so and I don’t use this word often, but she was a bitch,” Arvin said. “Remind me why I ain’t go to church.”

You looked down and nervously unclasped and unclasped your purse. “You didn’t have to come.”

“No, it’s your house and I wanna be a good guest,” he said, “It’s nothing to do with you.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “My daddy hated goin’ too but he didn’t want me to be ostracised, you know? He told me, near the end, that he stopped believin’ durin’ the war. He said no god would let the things happen that he saw.” You leaned against the door and watched the buildings pass. “Seein’ how these Christians act, I can’t blame him.”

Arvin was quiet as you left the main street and the house began to thin out until the country sprawled out around you.

“My sister…” he said so low you barely heard him. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “My cousin, she was tricked by a preacher man. She was young and too willing to love. And he was just a liar. He knocked her up then refused her.” His voice was brittle and you glanced over as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “She hung herself but it was that snake-tongued charlatan who killed her.” He shook his head. “No god would take her like that. No god would let a man sworn to him trick the innocent.” He rubbed his forehead as his eyes bore into the distance, “I’m sorry. Just been a while since I sat in a pew.”

“No, I’m… sorry. Sorry about your cousin.” You said, “I didn’t-- You can stay home next week.”

He pondered it and a little smile curled his lips. “Don’t think I will. Think I’d like to see that Noreen again. Maybe say a prayer for her soul, wherever it may be.”

🚬

Roy was still in bed when you got home. You tried to rouse him and he swatted you away. You brought him a sandwich and some water and left it beside him. You went back down to clean up as Arvin sat in the front room, As you wiped your hands, the record player buzzed and a tune rose on noontime air.

You went to the living room as Arvin stood straight and you listened to the smooth tones of Sinatra. He turned to you as you entered. 

“I like this one,” you said. 

“Me too,” He had shed the jacket and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, his tie disposed of. He turned his palm up as he stepped away from the player. “You dance?”

You giggled and shook your head. “No, not much of a dancer. Roy wouldn’t even at the wedding.”

“Come on. It’s a good song.” He got closer and began to sing out of tune, “I get no kick from champagne. Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all…”

You shied away and he caught your hand. You let him draw you closer and smiled as your cheeks warmed up.

“Just follow my lead,” he urged as he moved his feet, “Don’t look down, just one, two, one, two…” 

You moved your feet around his as he swayed you and turned you on the spot. His hand settled on your lower back and you grasped his shoulders. You were jittery as you moved with him in time to the music.

“Arvin…” You breathed. 

“Every pretty girl should dance,” he said, “I’d say you’re a hell of a dancer for a beginner.”

“Thanks,” you trilled and settled into his embrace.

“I mean it. You deserve more.” He leaned closer and you felt his hot breath on you. “You deserve the world.”

You smiled as he gazed across at you. Your heart leapt as there was a sudden clamour by the stairs and you pushed away from Arvin as Roy stomped into the doorframe. His hand fell away from your back and you tiptoed over to your husband.

“Roy, you’re awake? How ya feelin’?”

“All this goddamn noise you makin’ down here,” he grumbled, “Shut off that dang thing. There’s a game on.”

You flitted away and turned off the Victrola. You looked at Arvin as he watched Roy. He looked irritated and repulsed by the man.

“I gotta do some chores,” you muttered. “You boys enjoy the game.”

“I think I’m just gonna go upstairs,” Arvin tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be down to cook that fish in a bit.”

You watched the younger man leave and Roy turned the dial on the radio. Your husband flopped onto the couch as the commentator’s voice filled the room.

“How about a beer?” He demanded, not asked.

🚬

The day turned to night. Dinner was quiet and tense. Roy didn’t drink as much as the day before but the alcohol made little difference. Arvin was pensive and seemed to lose himself in thought. You were nervous as you thought of the dance and your temperamental husband.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. It was just a dance. How come Roy could spend his days drunk and dozing and you couldn’t do anything you liked?

You cleaned up after supper. Arvin retreated to his room once more as Roy sat in the living room with another bottle and you tidied up. You cleared the last of the mess and looked out into the front room. Roy belched and sneered as he saw you.

“Wife,” he beckoned you forward with two fingers, “What did you do today?”

“Went to church. Cleaned.” You edged closer. “That’s all. I was real worried about you, Roy.”

“Were you?” He snorted and stood as he dropped his bottle on the table. “You didn’t seem too bothered when I came down.”

“What do you mean?” You stopped a foot away from him.

“You and that kid. You get on real well, don’t ya?” He snickered. “You down here dancing.”

“Just a dance, Roy,” you said meekly, “I didn’t wanna be rude.”

“You just wanna be a whore,” he snarled, “Huh? What you doin’ with that boy? I’m your husband.”

“I know, I know that, Roy. I never-- I didn’t do nothing.” You pleaded as he stepped closer. “I was just waitin’ for you to wake up.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he hissed as he grabbed the back of your head and thrust you close to him. “You been doin’ everything but what a wife is meant for.”

He tore open the front of your dress and you cried out. “I’m gonna fuck you and let that boy hear who you belong to.”

“Stop, please.”

“Stop!? This is what you promised me, dear wife.”

You struggled with him as the smell of alcohol on his breath made you cringe. He spun you and shoved you so hard you stumbled back against the couch. You got up as he ambled after you and were knocked back by his fist. You cradled your cheek as you fell onto the cushions.

He pushed you up against the back of the couch and tried to wrench your legs apart. You squeezed your knees together and slapped at him blindly as fear bubbled in your veins. He forced your legs open and knelt on the couch between them. He grabbed your throat as you tried to wriggle away and he struck you again. He never hit your face; he didn’t like people to see what he did to you.

“I’ll show you,” he muttered, “I’ll show you, you little whore.”

He reached for his fly but his face mirrored your shock as he suddenly stilled and for a moment, he froze in time before he fell back onto the floor. Arvin stepped aside to avoid the crash and turned to hit him across the face. Roy’s brow split and began to stream with blood.

Arvin struck him a third time and pointed the gun at his head as he laid prone on the floor. Roy touched the back of his skull as he stared up barrel. The whack from the butt of the gun would likely leave a worse lump than his punches.

“Get up and go.” Arvin growled. “Or I’m gonna smear this carpet with your brains.”

“Are you crazy? This is my house!” Roy barked and pushed himself up. The pistol clicked and Arvin pressed it to his head. 

“It’s her daddy’s house.”

“She’s my wife, boy.”

“You don’t act like no husband,” Arvin said gruffly, “You think I’m scared? Think I haven’t shot a man before?”

“Sure you have, boy.”

“It’s different. You go out and you hunt your bucks and they don’t know what’s comin’, they don’t even know when they shot. But a man, oh he knows to the end. He begs, even if he can’t speak, he does. It’s in his eyes, in the way he gurgles as the life drains from his lips.” Arvin kicked Roy, “And once I pull this trigger, you’ll be begging too but it’ll be too late and there ain’t no words you can say to stop the blood. So you shut up and you go before you can’t.”

You were paralysed on the couch. Your head throbbed as you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You trembled as Roy stood slowly and winced as Arvin followed his movement with the muzzle of the gun. Arvin followed your husband to the door and you heard the sharp whine of the other before it clattered shut. 

Crickets chirped as dirt stirred beneath feet and you heard the old truck shudder to life. The door snapped shut and locked loudly. Arvin appeared and lowered the gun. You stared at it as he came close. He set it on the table and sat beside you as he touched your face and you winced.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he pulled you against him, “I’m sorry he hurt you. I shoulda-- shoulda been faster.”

“Arv…” Your voice turned to a wisp and you let him hold you.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I got you now.”

#arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #Dark Fic #dark!fic #reader x oc husband #fic #series #the devil all the time #of something beautiful but annihilating

[imagine-docx]

sneaky.

Summary: Being neighbours with a cute boy has some perks. Also, Sam is being the best wingman (no pun intended) he possibly could. [neighbour!chubby!buckyau]

Warnings: Swearing, and some insecurity mentions and some body shaming.

A/N: Hello, quarantine has me writing again as I am officially done uni for the year. So please enjoy this jumble of different AU’s thrown into one. - Amanda 

➽───────────────❥

You have lived next to James Barnes for the last two and a half years and you guys never really talked, just smiles and nods whenever you see him, and occasionally swapping mail that accidentally went to your respective houses, this was mostly because your schedules conflict but also Bucky didn’t know how to talk to a cute girl but he won't mention that part.

You’ve heard rumours about how he was a serial abuser and other nonsense from the neighbourhood, because honestly Anita from five houses down creates random fantasies she might as well be an author.

He was so used to getting stares and glares for his left prosthetic and round stomach, due to the rumours that were spread around the neighbourhood and he always shied away from contact with anyone in the area. You on the other hand? God literally sent you, so warm and loving. 

He was working on his car one day, while his cat was outside with him. Looks back to see Alpine and doesn’t see his cat, slight panic until he sees that Alpine wasn’t there, but that cat is everywhere so it doesn’t bother him that much.

He heard soft lo-fi music coming from across the fence, indicating that you were outside. He looks over and sees you sitting there, on your computer between papers and notebooks and his cat sitting with you.

To you, Alpine wasn’t much chaos, in fact, a designer, he would randomly paw at something and it clicked with you that the two outfits look good.

“I’m so sorry, my cat is bothering you.” Bucky called out.

“Not at all, he constantly is spending time over here, love him like he’s my own,” you smiled at him.

“Thank you for looking out for him,” he said, looking down at his feet.

“Not a problem. You look exhausted, come get some coffee!” You exclaimed, with the brightest smile he’s ever seen, plastered onto your face.

“Are you sure?” He didn’t want your reputation to be tainted by having him over for some coffee.

“Come! How do you take your coffee?” you said, trekking back to close all your notebooks because honestly, it's not everyday that your cute neighbour talks to you and work can always wait.

You went inside to make both of you a cup of coffee, his black, and yours with some cream and sugar. You also plated two lemon bars for the two of you, and grabbed a little yogurt from your fridge for Alpine to enjoy. 

“I’m surprised you wanted to be seen with me. Especially with all the rumours, I found everyone believing them.”

“Honestly, half of them came from Anita and she is a whackjob. I’m surprised people listen to her.” You said taking a sip of your coffee.

He laughed, “You would be surprised, people look at me like I killed someone.”

“When I first moved in she told the entire neighbourhood that I got a divorce and needed massive space from my ex husband because I found him cheating with one of his juniors. People actually believed it which makes it worse. For like a year I was getting sympathetic looks for a divorce and relationship that didn’t even happen.” You cut a piece of your lemon bar with your fork.

He laughed, and felt so much more comfortable with you, like he has known you for so long. “My old place caught on fire, and I got trapped, lost m’arm. Girl left me because I had no arm, no place to stay, hit rock bottom, gained a few pounds, and Stark helped me by getting me this arm, even though I work for him and he paid for this place for me.” He said looking down, he felt comfortable enough for you to know what happened, but avoided your look, scared of judgement. 

You reached out for his flesh hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “You’re doing amazing James, don’t listen to what the neighbourhood chatties have to say. That’s why half of their men turn off their hearing aids when they talk.” 

He smiled and you removed your hand, “Bucky.”

“Pardon?”

“Call me Bucky.”

“Alright, Bucky. So how did Bucky derive from James, because there is no correlation” you said, shoving the piece of lemon bar into your mouth.

“From my middle name, Buchanan, and I guess it stuck with me since.”

“Wait, you work for Stark Industries?” You said realization dawning on you.

“Yeah…” He said unsurely as if you would kick him off your backyard patio set and never talk to him again. 

“I provide the latest and never seen before suits to Tony Stark!” You laughed.

“Insurrexon?” He asked.

“Yes sir, the one and only fashion director for Insurrexon.” You said.

He laughed, “So you guys are the reason he prances around his office saying his suit is worth more than everyone’s rent.”

“Sounds like a very Tony thing to do, but yes. I am the cause of that.” 

You laughed and spent the remainder of your day talking with Bucky in your backyard while Alpine takes occasional nips at the yogurt left for him.

➽───────────────❥

Since that day, you and Bucky practically became best friends. With your schedule practically all over the place you two were constantly texting to help compensate for the fact you probably saw him for a total of 10 minutes or less a day.

He noticed some days you were coming home super late and noticed the lights in your washroom and bedroom are the only lights that were on when you came home and after that he assumed you fell asleep. He felt bad knowing you didn’t eat and were constantly on the go and eating probably the most unhealthy things possible just to stay alive. So he would drop you off extra portions of whatever he made. 

Or that's what he likes to tell himself. One day on his break he saw the cutest reusable container, it was glass and had little black dresses on it with a hot pink lid, and knew it matched you perfectly. That night he had an extra portion of stir fry and rice leftover in your mailbox with a note saying, ‘make sure you eat something doll’, knowing you would check it before going inside and you would hopefully eat it. 

The next day after the longest shift he possibly could have had, he checked his mailbox and saw the container was back in his mailbox, he frowned thinking that you didn’t eat it. He saw a yellow post-it note attached to the top ‘thanks for looking out for me, btw the stir fry was delicious’ and he smiled, picking up the container he noticed it was quite weighty. He opened it and saw a slice of red velvet cake, keeping the grin on his face, he closed the container, gathered his mail and went inside. 

And that started the entire back and forth exchange of goods.

He would cook dinner for you to enjoy at night when you come home and leave it for you, the next day he got his container back with a form of a baked good.

Everyday on his way home, he was thinking of things to make you to impress you, there were lasagnas, soups with garlic bread, steaks with mashed potatoes, and he always went above and beyond to make it with love for you.

You on the other hand found it so sweet and kept giving him cute little desserts you would bake such as cupcakes, cheesecakes, and cookies, and when you couldn’t bake anything, you would make sure to pick something up on your way home from work.

This clockwork happened almost all the time.

➽───────────────❥

Bucky was in the break room at work with Sam and Steve, and Bucky couldn’t help but gush about how cute he found you.

“Aw Baby Bucky has a crushy wushy on his cute neighbour,” Sam said, reaching for his cheeks to pinch them.

“Knock it off Wilson,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

“Buck, I haven’t seen you this happy since Dot,” Bucky winced at the mention of his ex.

“She seems to like you, and enjoys your company, make a move,” Steve said, nudging his ribs.

“She doesn’t look at me that way,” Bucky muttered.

“Buck, she literally ignores what everyone said and openly hangs out with you, I think she likes you.” Bucky felt a little string of hope when Steve said that, but couldn’t help but feel insecure.

He was 34 years old, slightly overweight and had a prosthetic and was IT director for Stark Industries. You on the other hand were slightly younger than him at 30 years old, but, god took his time creating you, you were beautiful inside and out, had a killer personality and worked as a fashion director for one of the biggest fashion chains in North America. You two were on two different levels and you were nowhere in his league.

“So Buck, when are you gonna cook me dinner?” Sam said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Not in your lifetime.” Bucky retaliated, feeling a buzz in his pocket, he pulled out his phone and saw it was you and instantly smiled.

“His girlfriend messaged him, that's why he’s all smiley” Sam nudged him once again.

The three of them continued talking until Brock Rumlow, the resident dick and lead prosthetic designer walked in. 

Brock pushed passed Bucky to get something from the cabinets. Brock had an attitude problem with everyone and it was still surprising that he worked at Stark Industries. “James Barnes has a girlfriend? Does she close her eyes when she fucks you? Because you are hideous.”

“Rumlow,” Steve warned.

And that’s when Bucky felt coffee trickle down his skin and the scent of coffee engulfed his nose. “Hope your girlfriend cleans you up, she might as well throw you out.” Rumlow said pushing past him.

“Buck-” Sam started before making a beeline to the mens washroom.

Bucky stood in the mirror and looked at himself, his hair was drenched with coffee, his cream coloured cardigan and white shirt were covered in brown coffee splotches, his pants and shoes got minimal damage. He dunked his head over the sink and tried washing out his hair.

As his head was over the sink, there were tears in his eyes. Of course his neighbour wouldn’t like him, he was weak. He looked in the mirror knowing he would have to sit in his coffee stained outfit for the rest of the day.

“Buck? Stark wants to see you whenever you come out.” Steve said from the other side of the door, giving him some space. 

He managed to murmur out an “okay” knowing Steve’s quality hearing would have heard him. It took him a solid 30 minutes before he made his way to Stark’s office. “You wanted to see me?” Bucky said walking in.

“Ah yes, I heard about the coffee incident in the break room.” Tony said. 

“Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault, it’s Rumlow’s. Also how do you deal with Sam? I heard him screeching from here about how he was gonna, and I quote ‘Brock Rumlow’s shit so hard he wouldn’t have seen it coming.’” 

“A lot of alcohol and tuning him out.” 

“Makes sense.” Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and handed him a card, “Take this, go buy something to wear. Can’t have my top IT director brewing in coffee like he’s a piece of tiramisu.”

“No Stark I can’t take this, you’ve done a lot already.”

“Nonsense. Take Sam and Steve with you, I can’t hear Sam screeching about fighting someone for the rest of the day, that’s gonna be one hell of an HR complaint I’m gonna have to deal with.”

“You got it.”

➽───────────────❥

And that is how Bucky, Sam and Steve spent two hours walking around Brooklyn attempting to find clothes for Bucky. Bucky couldn’t find anything that made him feel right, it was emphasizing his stomach which he didn’t want to show off.

This kept making Bucky smaller, and he didn’t want to be out anymore. Sam kept trying to hype him and Steve was reassuring that he looked fine. But after that altercation in the break room, they understood that he wasn’t in the best mood and just wanted to go back to the office and have this Friday be over. 

➽───────────────❥

You were sitting in a tiny coffee shop called Dream Bean with Wanda and Natalia planning for the next collection that was supposed to drop for Valentine’s Day, the ‘Love Bomb’ collection.

“I’m thinking colours like pastels, reds, pinks, whites.” Wanda said.

“So take Valentine’s Day and throw it into a collection?” Natalia said.

“Pretty much.” You stated.

“Makes sense.” Natalia stated, taking a sip of her iced latte.

“Is this more date night and sexy lingerie?” Wanda asked, working out a sketch in her notebook.

“I mean a lot of people are single on Valentine’s Day, so why not make it a feel good collection.” You stated nonchalantly, sitting back into your chair and taking a sip of your iced coffee.

“Oh, I love having a creative genius,” Wanda exclaimed, brushing her pencil gently across the sketchbook.

“I mean it's a part of my job description,” you laughed, taking a sip out of your iced coffee and looked out the window. You noticed a familiar face. Bucky. Your heart skipped a beat, until you saw that he was drenched in coffee. Your heart hurt for him.

“Hey? Hello? Anyone home?” Natalia waved in front of your face. 

“Oh sorry.”

“You okay?” Wanda asked.

“I just saw my neighbour-”

“Oh the cute one you’re so smitten by?” Nat wiggled her brows. 

“The dinner one! Aw he’s so cute and treats her well.” Wanda said.

“He was covered in coffee and he seemed upset.” You started, wishing you could do something for him. That’s when it clicked with you, “Do we have any samples from the ‘No Guidance’ collection?”

“I think there are copies in my office.”

➽───────────────❥

Bucky got back to work and sat in his chair, and ran his hands over his face. He felt horrible and nothing could make this day better. Rumlow’s words managed to hit deeper than he wanted it too. Usually, Bucky was very dismissive about what Rumlow said, but now that you were a part of his life, it hit deeper.

The elevator dinged, signalling someone was coming up. Secretly he was hoping it was the grim reaper ready to come collect him. “Package for-” He read the package, “James Barnes?” 

“That’s me.” He said not even looking up. When he did, he was greeted by a massive navy blue box with a yellow ribbon tied around it, and saw some white text but couldn’t make out what it said due to the distance. “Thank you.”

He noticed that the box said ‘Insurrexon’ and was confused. That was the company that you worked for. He untied it and was greeted by a white paper with black pen ink staining the paper on top of the red wrapping paper protecting whatever was in the box. 

‘Was in a meeting when I saw you drenched in coffee and wanted to help you out. Hope you like it. Also, can’t have my chef soaking wet, it could get him sick’ and it was signed off with your name. 

His heart burst with awe at the fact she went out of her way to get him clothes so he wasn’t wet. Part of him was embarrassed that she saw him in that state, but the joy overtook that feeling. He took the clothes to the washroom and was going to change.

He worried that he wouldn’t fit in it, but as he slid the items on, it fit. Maybe you did have a good knowledge at measurements and knew what would fit.

He looked himself in the mirror and grinned at the fact she picked an all black outfit with a light washed denim jacket and some black combat boots, he was upset at the fact that she knew how big he was, but was overtaken by happiness as his neighbour, someone he took such an interest in, picked this out, out of the goodness of her own heart.

Once he walked out of the washroom he was whistled at by Sam, “Looking good girl.”

“I thought you didn’t like anything.” Steve stated.

“His lovely girl at Insurrexon sent him stuff,” Sam said, holding up the note with his hands.

“Hey!” Bucky grabbed it. “None of your business.”

“Alright ‘chef’.” Sam mocked.

Bucky reached out to slap Sam’s head. “Hey, hey, hey, no workplace violence!” Steve said, breaking it up. 

➽───────────────❥

It was the end of the day and Bucky had to drop reports back off to Tony. He walked in and gave him all the files that Tony needed. “Is that Insurrexon?”

“Yeah,” he responded.

“Look at you go, getting into the big leagues, huh?” Tony punched his shoulder, “Wait, was it on my credit card?” Tony nearly cried out.

“No-”

“Wait, this collection didn’t even come out yet. How did you get this and how much did you spend?” Tony cried out.

“One of my friends work for Insurrexon and sent it to me for free.”

“Was it a lady friend?” Tony wiggled his eyebrows. Bucky blushed, “IT WAS! But honestly Tinman, you had a long day. Go home, get some rest, spend some time with your girl. I’ll see you Monday.” Tony said shooing Bucky out of his office. 

➽───────────────❥

Upon reaching home, Bucky realized how expensive the brand truly was, and the amount of hype behind it. He also realized that Tony wasn’t lying and this was a collection that didn’t even come out yet, yet you still gave him a copy of it. He paced around his living room, even though his paycheque said he made quite the amount of money, the worth of this collection laughed at that amount. He couldn’t possibly pay it back. He was running through scenarios on how to bring it up and pay her back. He finally looked back at the clothing that he folded and put into a bag to return, and saw Alpine looking up at him, “What should I do, bud?” Alpine just meowed back at him before leaving and returning to wherever he was.

It was close to eight pm when he noticed that you came back home. Your car was in your driveway, and your living room light was on. He had to pump himself up before walking over to your door, he knocked on it three times before you opened it.

You looked even more beautiful, and he didn’t even know it was possible. There you were, makeup free, hair dampened signalling you showered, a pair of black shorts, and an oversized grey NASA shirt. He noticed you were on the phone and mouthed, “I’ll come back later.” He turned around and was about to walk off. 

That’s when you grabbed his flesh wrist and pulled him inside. Closing the door behind him, he kicked off his shoes and admired your living room. He was unsure if he should sit, he looked at you as you were talking to whoever it was. You looked back at him, and signalled for him to sit down. He cautiously sat on your couch. Pen in your hand, you wrote on the post-it note.

“That’s just gonna delay ‘FIVE’ and we’re going to have to push back ‘Love Bomb’ which will have to be scrapped until next year,” you said running your hand through your hair.

Whoever was on the other line said something, you sighed, “It’s a Friday night, I can’t worry about this. Send out an email scheduling an interview on Tuesday for all the directors of different divisions.”

He admired you, even in comfortable clothes, you were a business woman strategizing ways to not prevent any delays. “Yeah, so me, Nat, Wanda, Okoye, Nebula, Val, Carole and Erik.” You wrote it down on your little post-it note, “Alright, thanks Gamora. Have a good weekend.” You said before hanging up. 

You turned around being greeted by Bucky sitting there, “Hi,” he said letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Hi there. Sorry about that, work has my ass on a platter right now,” you said, chuckling, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s okay,” he looked down and remembered why he came, “You didn’t have to do what you did.”

“And what was it I did?” You asked ridding your dining room table of the computer and a few sheets of paper that were littered across the table.

“Give me clothes.” He responded watching your movements.

“Bucky, it’s not a problem. You looked upset and I wanted to help you,” and after those words left your mouth, his heart nearly exploded into tiny pieces.

“I can’t possibly pay you back for this. Even Tony said it was too expensive.” Bucky said rambling. 

“Bucky, do not worry about it. You don’t have to pay me back,” you said gently.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“If you want to do something, hang out with me,” you said.

“Pardon?”

“We could order dinner? Dessert? Mario Kart? I am open to criticism.” You said jokingly.

“I’d like that,” Bucky said grinning from ear to ear.

“Alright soldier, what are you craving?”

“Pizza?” He said.

“Alright.” 

➽───────────────❥

Of course it was a Friday night and your favourite pizza joint had an hour wait time before they could make your order, and don’t forget the 30 minute delivery window. And honestly, you both didn’t mind and enjoyed each other’s company. Yet here you were sitting on your couch playing Mario Kart together. “I fell off again,” he grumbled at rainbow road.

“Hah- oh no,” you said, getting blue-shelled.

“I just fell off, how can I possibly fall off again?” He exclaimed.

“No no no, don’t red shell me.” You said, rushing to the finish line. The moment you crossed it, ‘FINISH’ flashed across the screen. 

Bucky got up at the sound of the knock on the door, “Pizza’s here.”

“Oh, use my card to pay!” You said going to get your wallet from your bag.

“No Doll, I owe you,” he went to the door.

You stood hovered over your bag due to your cheeks burning from him calling you ‘Doll’. You went to the kitchen and grabbed two plates, and two cups getting ready to set the table. Bucky joined you in the dining room with the extra large pepperoni pizza, wings and soda. 

For some reason, to the both of you, this felt right. Like this is something that you two should be constantly doing. You two were laughing at childhood stories, work stories and other funny things that have happened to you two. He helped you clean up the table and wrap up the extras. 

You took out two pieces of plum cobbler and warmed it up, “Ice cream?” you asked.

“Do you have?” Bucky asked.

“What kind of girl would I be if I didn’t have any?” You joked.

“You have a point,” he laughed.

You two were back at the dining room table. Bucky let out a heavenly groan as he took a bite of the plum cobbler, “I love plum so much, and this tastes amazing.”

“Plum is that fruit that you can always enjoy,” you said, taking a bite of your own.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, where do you get these desserts? They’re amazing,” he said, taking another bite.

You sheepishly said, “I bake the majority of them.”

“They’re amazing, doll. Maybe you should get out of the fashion industry and get into baking.” He joked.

“I don’t know about that part,” you chuckled, “Wanda and Nat might have my head on a stick if I leave.”

“You guys are that close?” Bucky asked.

“Practically attached by the hip. We met in freshman year of college because of this stupid textile course. Here we are ten years later, in the same company. What about you? Any close friends that are work friends but would also commit manslaughter if you left the company?”

He laughed at the comment, “I have Steve, him and I have been friends since childhood and he kept getting beat up in alleys and I had to save him. Then there’s Sam, the drama queen. Him and I met through Steve.”

You nodded your head, signalling you understood. “I don’t want to intrude, but what happened today? Why was there coffee all over you?”

He shifted in his seat, “Oh, uh.”

“You don’t have to answer. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m feeling much better now, sugar,” he said, grabbing your hand and giving a gentle squeeze with his flesh hand. 

“That’s all that matters,” You said squeezing back

The two of you continued eating your dessert in harmony, occasionally making jokes.

➽───────────────❥

Bucky didn’t want to go, but it was nearly 1:30 am and he should probably let you sleep. He was strategically trying to leave the clothes on your couch without you noticing, which obviously failed.

You leaned against your door with one bag containing the clothes you gave him and the other containing leftovers and a good portion of the plum cobbler he seemed to enjoy. “Goodnight,” he said, prior to trying to walk off your porch. 

“Wait, Bucky?” You asked.

He turned around, “Yes sugar?” 

You hugged him, at first he couldn’t believe it, but knew this possibly wouldn’t happen again and hugged back. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Anytime doll,” he was so ecstatic, he didn’t notice that you slipped the two bags into his hands. 

“See you around?” You asked, sheepishly.

“Of course.”

You let out a smile, “Night Bucky,” before the door closed.

He smiled, before realizing she slipped him food and the clothes. He shook his head and trekked his way home.

➽───────────────❥

Over the next 2 weeks, you and Bucky got so much more closer. He came to Insurrexon when she was in and could take breaks. Other than that you tried to meet up at random diners, restaurants, bakeries, wherever was convenient to the both of you.

➽───────────────❥

It was a Friday afternoon and Bucky was irritated, Brock was making sly comments about him knowing that Bucky heard it. And on several occasions, Steve had to hold back Sam from swinging and Sam stating that, “Rumlow isn’t ready for this smoke.”

Bucky sat at his desk looking over the file Tony gave him this morning and making notes in the margin for him and Bruce to look over once Monday hit. He felt someone’s presence next to him, “Brock I don’t wanna deal with this right now,” he mumbled out, not even looking up.

“Brock? From Pokémon? I always thought I was more of a Rosa from Black and White two,” you joked.

Once he heard the familiar voice, his head snapped up and grinned, leaning back into his chair, “Thought you were more of a May from Sapphire.”

You laughed, “Is that my favourite fashion director from Insurrexon?” Tony called out.

“Of course it is,” you turned to Tony, smiled and pushed back your hair.

“Are you bringing me some new designs? Or are you terrorizing my IT director?” He said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I prefer the second one.”

Bucky enjoyed the banter between you and Tony, “Then you are banished from my company.”

“Before you banish me, can you at least let me steal your IT director for an hour for coffee? I will bring him back in perfect condition.” You pleaded.

Tony pretended to think, “Fine, I’ll give you an hour and fifteen, but I want him back in mint condition.”

You said, “Scouts honour.”

Bucky got up and stretched his knees, “If anything comes up, let Sam deal with it until I get back.”

“I would rather not, I’ll pass it off to Banner and hopefully he doesn’t rage out.” Tony joked.

“See you at the Rocket fashion show in a few weeks?” You asked Tony.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll bring Tinman with me,” he joked.

“Doll, meet me at the elevator? I want to pass my file to Banner before I leave.” Bucky asked.

“Of course. Bye Tony,” you said before walking back to the elevator you just rode up.

Bucky grabbed the file off the desk, “So this is the girl who has my Bucky Barnes smitten?” Tony said, examining his movement. 

He blushed and stuttered, “N-no, where did you get that from?”

“Buck, you literally called her doll, and the way you look at her says otherwise,” Tony said, “Don’t let her slip out of her fingers, she is a wonderful person and I can tell that she genuinely likes you back,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and handed him a card, “It’s on me, now go get your girl.”

“Thanks Tony,” Bucky murmured out.

“Don’t worry Buck, now I will pass this on to the big guy,” Tony spoke, taking the file out of his hand.

Bucky met you at the elevator, you were leaning against the wall on your phone waiting for him. He finally took in how gorgeous you looked today. A quarter sleeve baby blue button up that was fashionably tucked into the high waisted dark blue skinny jeans, some black heels and rose gold jewelry to accent it all. “You ready Doll?”

“Been ready, let’s get some coffee. You look like you need it.” You said.

He smiled and pressed the button for down, you two were laughing and Bucky’s face dropped when the elevator doors opened. Rumlow. He got in, and you could feel the tension. You grabbed his hand and reassuringly squeezed it and kept your fingers interlocked.

Earlier when you were walking in the building, you ran into Steve and Sam by accident who were coming in from their ‘afternoon stroll’ and Sam went off and told you everything about Rumlow. “You know you don’t deserve someone like Chubs over there, why don’t you get with me instead, I’ll show you a good time.” Rumlow said.

“And you don’t deserve a job here, I can’t wait to go to Tony and let him know there’s a harassment claim against one of his employees. He wouldn’t like to hear that his favourite company can’t be providing him fashion anymore because of a harassment claim, would he now?” You gritted.

“Bitch,” Rumlow muttered before getting off.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Bucky said, trying to let go of your hand.

You kept a grip on his hand, “I don’t have to, but I do. You don’t deserve any of that.” “So where do we wanna go?” Bucky said. 

“Up to you,” you smiled at him.

“Well, we are going somewhere expensive because Tony gave me his card,” he chuckled.

You laughed, “Can’t wait.”

➽───────────────❥

You stuck out your tongue, turned back around and walked in the direction of your home.

You and Bucky enjoyed your time at the cafe. He ordered a large black coffee and a plum tart, you ordered a large iced coffee and a rainbow bit cake. His hour was up and you were walking him back to Stark Industries. Your left hand in his right hand, everything about this seems normal.

You two laughed in harmony. You turned towards him, “I’m done for the rest of the day. Movie tonight?” You asked.

“Of course.”

Bucky was about to walk off, before you called out, “Hey Bucky?”

He turned back, “Yeah doll?”

You reached out and grabbed his hand, and pulled him closer to you. You planted a soft kiss on his lips. His eyes widened, upon realization, he kissed you back.

You pulled away, “I promised Tony his IT director back, I’ll be waiting for you to come back.”

He kissed your knuckles, “I can’t wait.”

You were walking away, but turned back. “Also, don’t kill Sam. He told me everything.”

He blushed then realization hit him as to what you just said and let out a loud groan, “You two are the sneakiest.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #captain america #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky #neighbour!bucky #neighbor!bucky #chubby!bucky #chubby!bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #james barnes #james barnes x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel au #winter soldier #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x y/n

[steebharringt0n]

sanctuary - part 3

summary: Subject 001. That’s what you’ve been called your whole life. You’ve known nothing but pain, violence, and isolation. You were their greatest secret weapon, but when your final mission is to ensure the end of the universe, you escape to Hawkins, Indiana to team up with Eleven and to put an end to all this chaos, once and for all - you just never expected to fall in love with the resident bad boy along the way.

rating: m

pairing: billy hargrove x reader

warning: graphic violence, slurs, abuse, curse words.

A/N: fuck episode 8. i am so upset. thank god for fanfiction amirite? i was too emotionally distrought to think of a better ending for this chapter, but things start picking up next chapter - i will include what happened to billy in season 3 in this story, with some obvious tweaks.

tagged list: @thefandomzoneisdangerous

001. prologue 002. firestarter

---

003. spitfire

“Pick your poison”

You stared at the plastic menu in front of you, not entirely sure what any of these foods were. It’s not like they fed you burgers and fries over at the military base. The options were overwhelming to you. Pancakes, hot dogs, milkshakes … was any of this good?

“I - I don’t know what to get …”

Billy put down his menu and stared at you, taking in your features a lot better now that you both sat under the bright light of the diner. Your (Y/H/C) hair was messy, as if it hadn’t been washed in days. The bruises around face, especially the one near your cheek looked more colorful than before. Hues of purple and yellow contrasted against your (Y/S/C) skin. The dark bags under your eyes made it seem as if you hadn’t slept in days.

You hadn’t.

“What, you’ve never had a cheeseburger before?” he questioned incredulously. You shook your head, “No, I don’t even know what this pancake food is. Is it any good?”

Billy scoffed loudly, “You’re joking right?”

Your eyes shifted around, cocking your head to the side, “No Billy, why would I lie to you?” your voice spoke softly.

He was taken aback by your comment. His shoulders relaxed and a soft expression appeared on his face, “You’re right … I’m sorry. I’m kinda new to this whole being nice thing” he muttered. 

A loud noise coming from the back of the kitchen from the diner distracted the both of you from your conversation. A tall, lanky waitress with thin hair was sauntering over, her face looking very annoyed. Billy quickly lowered his head towards you, “Whatever you do, don’t say a word. I’ll do the talking” he hissed at you quickly.

You nodded solemnly. He was the only one that had helped you get this far - the least you could is follow his instructions.

The waitress then appeared to your table. Smacking her gum loudly, a notepad in her hand. She glanced over at you, then frowned, “Boy kid, what happened to your face?”

You stared at her blankly, not knowing exactly what to do in this situation which was strange because you always knew what to do in sticky situations. It usually resulted in someone getting hurt or dying though. This situation however, was different. You never really interacted with people outside of the men that usually monitored your every move, so social cues were hard for you to grasp, along with sarcasm and certain expressions. Your eyes slowly shifted to look at Billy, waiting for him to speak on your behalf. 

“Car accident. Nasty one. Just got out of the hospital so we’re celebrating, right?” he gave you a hard looking, pressing on the fact that he needed you to play along with his little game. So you did.

“Yup. Car accident” was all you said. 

“She’s gonna take the cheeseburger with fries, I’m just gonna have a chocolate milkshake” He quickly said, trying to divert the conversation back. The waitress quickly jotted the food down on her notepad. She turned on her heel and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Billy let out a breath of air from his mouth, sinking back into his seat. “That was close. Nice playing along”

You nodded, fiddling with the large sleeve of your hoodie as silence settled between the two of you. You weren’t exactly the best at holding conversations, and neither was Billy. You mostly spoke when you were spoken to, and Billy just usually avoided people unless he was trying to get in someone’s pants.

“So uh,” he started, trying to break the awkwardness, “How did you uh, manage to make your way to this hellhole?”

You shrugged. “I killed a guy, stole his wallet, bought a plane ticket and walked the rest of my way here.” you spoke so nonchalantly it sent chills down his spine. The way you spoke about certain things had a sense of innocence to them, but the fact that you could easily kill the next person that walked in the diner almost terrified him. You stopped fiddling with your sleeve when you realized Billy was quiet.

“I’m not a monster you know” you quietly said, your eyes avoiding his blue ones. “I know I have these ... powers ... and I know I’ve used them to hurt people ... but I’m not a monster” your voice was full of emotion. Billy shifted in his seat, his lips pressed together, not sure how to respond to you. He knew what other people at school saw him as. 

A bully, an asshole, a womanizer.

But in reality, Billy was a broken man, misunderstood. Seeing you become vulnerable in front of him tugged at his heart strings - which surprised him since not many things could make him feel so emotional.

“What are you?” he quietly asked.

You shrugged again, “I know as much as you do. They kept me in the dark. I was used to kill important people, people who would get in the way of their plan”

Billy’s eyes narrowed, “Who’s they?”

“The Russians, sometimes they would lend me to other people - to kill you know? I’m assuming they probably got paid money for it. Brenner always told me I was their prized possession. I was trained for as long as I could remember, until I perfected my powers.”

Billy tensed up, his leg twitching under the table, “So what other powers do you have?”

“Just the fire stuff - plus I’m really strong” you grinned at him. From the way you were shaped there was no way anyone would know what you could snap a tree in half with your bare hands. 

“Yeah, I figured that much” he glanced down at his wrist, rotating it to make sure that it was still working. 

You pressed your lips together, your expression softening, feeling guilty that you had hurt him earlier. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you … I just don’t - “

“- like being grabbed at … I get it. My old man can be hard on me sometimes” 

Your eyebrows etched together, “Old man? You have an old man?”

Billy let out a laugh, “It’s another expression. It’s my dad. He’s a piece of shit”

You noticed his face hardening at the mention of his dad, his whole body stiffening. Unsure how to comfort him, you hesitantly reached out and placed a hand over his, warmth emitting from your palm. He looked up at you, his face now softening at the mere touch of his hand. His blue eyes boring into your (E/C) eyes. There was that feeling again, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. You brushed it off this time, wanting to make sure that he was okay. 

“Brenner is a piece of shit too. I understand”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. Billy didn’t move his hand away, rather enjoying the warmth from your hand. Your touch was such a small gesture, but to Billy kindness was something he really didn’t get too much often. Not since his mom had left anyways.

The silence was broken by the waitress barging out of the kitchen. You quickly swiped your hand away from Billy - as if you were doing something inappropriate and didn’t want to get caught. She placed the cheeseburger in front of you, and the milkshake in front of Billy who murmured a thanks before she made her way back into the kitchen.

You took a deep breath, the smell of the beef and cheese hitting your nostrils. It was magnificent. You had never smelled anything so amazing before, your mouth was watering, your eyes were gleaming with excitement. Food was always given to you, but you were on a strict diet, to keep your body as fit as could be. But this? This was different. Billy watched you amusedly as he ripped open a straw and placed it in his milkshake.

“Well go on, take a bite” he urged.

Your hands picked up the large burger and you took a bite. Your eyes widened, the different flavors hitting your tongue, your taste buds were on fire. You closed your eyes, relishing the taste in your mouth, chewing ever so slowly so that you could taste every ingredient. 

“Oh my god” you moaned. Billy couldn’t help but grin at you, it was like watching a little kid eat a burger for the first time.

“This is the most amazing thing I have ever tasted in my whole life!” you exclaimed, taking another large bite.

“You should try the fries - with ketchup” he advised, taking a sip of his milkshake.

He reached over to the end of the booth and grabbed the red bottle at the end. He leaned over and drizzled ketchup over your fries, quickly taking a fry with him but you didn’t mind. You picked up a fry and placed it in your mouth. Another loud moan came from you, your eyes almost rolling in the back of your head.

“Billy. This is amazing, this has been the best day of my life” you spoke with food in your mouth but he didn’t care, he was too amused at all your reactions.

Billy glanced up at the clock on the wall. 11 pm. Shit, it was getting late.

“Hey, uh, I’m gonna go use the bathroom real quick. Stay put, don’t destroy anything” he jokingly added. You were too engrossed in your burger to give him any real attention, so you just waved him off as he quickly rose up and made his way to the back of the diner. He turned the corner and walked over to the payphone that was next to the bathrooms. He looked over his shoulder, making sure that you weren’t following him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Wheeler’s number, dialing it quickly as he held the phone between his head and shoulders.

A soft voice answered the phone, “Wheeler residence”

“Hey, Mrs. Wheeler it’s Billy”

Her voice suddenly went up a couple of octaves, “Billy! Hello! Calling so late, is everything okay?”

Billy shuffled his feet, “Yeah, um, is Nancy there? I need to ask her about an assignment”

There was a momentary pause on the other side. Billy heard shuffling and voices, “Yes, she’s here, - Nance! Hey Nance! Billy’s on the phone for you!”

Billy heard the phone being passed off. Mrs. Wheeler’s soft voice was replaced by Nancy’s nervous one. “Hi, Billy?”

“Wheeler. I’m gonna make this quick. I need your help.”

There was another pause, and then more shuffling. “Hey mom, I’m gonna take this phone call upstairs” Nancy announced to her mother. Billy heard the thudding of footsteps as Nancy made her way into her bedroom.

“Hargrove, what the hell do you want?” her voice suddenly became cold.

“One of Eleven’s buddies is here and I can’t watch her” he spoke in a hushed tone.

“What? Her buddies? What do you mean?”

“Wheeler, I need to bring her to your house. She can’t stay at mine” he pressed on.

“Hargrove, what the hell are you talking about?!” she questioned hotly.

“I can’t explain right now, I don’t have time, but I need to come over.” His foot was twitching at this point.

He felt Nancy’s hesitation, but she finally responded. “Okay, okay. Um, meet me by my back gate in 15 minutes”

“Deal”

He hung up the phone. He was making his way back to the booth when he caught a certain red car out of the corner of his eye. His face blanched and he felt his stomach drop when he realized who’s car that was.

“Shit. Shit. Fuck” 

He turned the corner and saw Tommy H. with Alex M. towering over you. You looked small, cowering in the booth. They both were laughing loudly, picking and eating the large fries that were sitting in front of you.

You looked up from the table and made eye contact with Billy, the look in your eyes were pleading for him to stop this.

“Tommy, Alex, what the hell are you guys doing here?” Billy’s voice was low, rough.

Tommy and Alex stopped laughing and turned to their attention to the familiar voice behind them. Billy hated dealing with those 2, along with Carol. They were the bane of his existence - and yet they followed him around like a lost puppy dog.

“Hargrove! I didn’t know you liked to screw around with fucked up chicks!” Tommy exclaimed, glancing back at your cowered frame. The words stung, but you remained quiet, letting Billy take over the situation. “We spotted your car so we knew we had to stop in”

“You guys need leave now” his voice was terrifying low now. Anger was starting to set in and you could hear it in his voice.

Alex let out a nervous laugh, “Hargrove, c’mon, it’s us. We just want to know who your little friend is” Alex walked over and patted Billy on his shoulder. Billy just stared at him in disgust.

“Yeah, like is she good in the sack? Does she give good head?” Tommy quickly added, reaching down and taking another fry, staring at you with a smirk on his face. 

Your hand twitched from under the table. Your temper rising.

Not a monster, not a monster, not a monster

You repeated that mantra in your head.

Billy stared at his friend, his mouth set in a hard line. Although you had no idea what ‘in the sack’ or ‘give good head’ meant, you knew it had some sort of sexual connotation with it with the way they were eyeing you up and down. If Billy Hargrove had fucked her - odds are she was a good fuck and they wanted a taste.

Tommy looked down at you again, “I’d give her an 7, maybe an 8 if she didn’t looked so fucked up” he sneered.

Billy could hear the muscles in your jaw crack as you clenched your jaw. Your expression hardening as Tommy casually reached his hand down again to grab another fry.

Game over

But before his fingers could even touch a fry, you quickly grabbed his wrist, slamming his hand down on the table so hard you could hear the joints in his hand. Tommy wailed in pain, his eyes widening so hard it looked like it was going to bulge out of his face. You stood up from your seat, keeping his hand pinned to the table. 

“Call me fucked up one. more. time”  you hissed at him, your jaw set as you stared at him. You maintained eye contact with him as he whimpered in pain. You could feel the table starting to crack as you pressed down harder. Tommy’s face twisted in agony, his mouth letting out a loud scream.

Your palm started to feel hot, you were so close to burning his hand off when Billy quickly ran over and yanked you away by your arm. Tommy collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down his face as he grabbed his hand to his chest. Alex ran over to his friend, picking him up from the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he spoke to you through gritted teeth. You snatched away your arm from his grip. But before you could give him an answer  the waitress suddenly came barging through, her eyes scanning the scene.

“All of you! Out of here!” she yelled at the four of you.

Billy walked around his two friends, reaching into his pocket and slamming a twenty dollar bill next to your plate. He grabbed your hand, leading you outside to his car without saying a word.

He quickly ushered you in his car, making his way around to the driver’s side and opening up the door. He quickly sat down and started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot so quickly it made your head spin. 

“You can’t fucking pull shit like that! What the hell were you thinking?!” he screamed at you, reaching for his pack of cigarettes in his center console.

“I was defending myself! I wasn’t going to let him speak to me like that” you retorted back.

“Yeah? By breaking his hand?! Real fucking smart!”

“Fuck you!”

“No fuck you!”

You were breathing heavily, your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. But you were so angry, incredibly angry. How dare he question your right to defend yourself. Billy reached for his zippo lighter and flicked it open, trying to light it but was unsucessful. He angrily chucked it by his feet, feeling frustrated. You instinctivly reached over and snapped your fingers, emitting a flame from your hand.

Billy looked over at you. Your nostrils flaring and your eyes burning with anger. but yet you still had the kindness in you to help light his cigarette. 

You were spitfire and crazy. Bruised and broken. Just like him. 

He had never had someone - let alone a girl - speak to him to the way you just did. But it made you all the more interesting to him. Although he would have never admitted it at the moment but seeing Tommy H cry like a baby almost made him want to smile.

He leaned over to the flame, cigarette in his mouth. It quickly lit and he took a deep inhale.

You let the flame disappear from your hand. Crossing your arms, a scowl on your face as you both drove towards the Wheeler residence in silence.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine

[collapsingintojupiter]

Philosophy and Hot Chocolate

And look who’s back with some more dumb fanfiction rambles

ha, yeah, that would be

this bastard.

@just-perhaps wanted to see the braincell boys debate, so I bring you all this. You’re welcome.

Characters: Logan, Deceit (sympathetic), Roman, Patton, Virgil.

Pairings: None. Just platonic all around here.

Warnings: Alcohol mention, and Idk of anything else? Let me know if you’d like something added tho.

It was getting late in the diner. For Logan, that was nothing new. He just sat quietly at his booth by himself like he always did, absentmindedly stirring a cup of black coffee with a spoon and ignoring the creamer that was in a tiny metal bucket near his mug. Few customers remained as per usual at this hour, which meant that the place was finally, relatively quiet. 

For a cutesy diner, things got interesting here after about 10pm. All the nice pictures crowding the walls became dark with shadow after the sun went down and the lights dimmed, and the little knick knacks began to look like haunted artifacts from their perches around various shelves in the main room. 

Logan liked that about this place. When the night got old everyone else was gone, but the diner still remained open like it always did, dutifully serving its customers clear into the next morning. The night shift had started a few hours ago now; but one lonely staff member standing behind the bar with a few of the usual drunks. They’d be leaving soon enough when they got too rowdy to stay, and then finally he could have his silence.

Then the door opened. 

Logan looked up as a strangely-dressed character entered the diner, a bowler hat topping off his honey-colored hair, tanned skin, and sharp green eyes. A thin scar ran up from the left side of his mouth to the base of his ear; a mouth that was currently twisted into something that looked like a smirk as he slowly sauntered past the empty tables, then slid into the booth across from Logan. 

“You look bored,” he said. 

“I’m not.” Logan glanced across the table at the stranger, who was wearing a yellow shirt and black jacket over top. He looked like a hornet. “Interesting clothing choice,” he commented.

“I might say the same about you.”

Logan glanced down at the black shirt and tie he currently wore, then raised an eyebrow. 

“Fair enough.”

“Hey Logan, can I get something for your friend here?” Both turned as a new character approached, this one with curly hair that hung over round glasses and a light blue apron. His name tag read Patton. 

“You’re a regular here,” the other man said. 

“And you’re not.” Logan looked over at Patton. “Can we get a basket of fries?”

“Of course!” Patton smiled at him, then turned to the hornet man. “Can I get you anything, sir?”

“Iced tea. Unsweetened.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Patton flashed them a smile and left, humming something to himself as he disappeared into the back room. The stranger raised an eyebrow at Logan.

“Fries?” he asked.

“I don’t see why not.” 

“It’s almost midnight.” 

“Says the one ordering iced tea.”

“That’s not the same.” Logan only shrugged, automatically reaching up to adjust his glasses.

“Maybe for you it isn’t.” He yawned, turning as Patton returned to the table with a small red basket of fries, offering the waiter a nod as it was set down in front of him. 

“Thank you, Patton.” 

“Sure thing! You guys just let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

The stranger reached across the table as Patton returned to his station by the bar, grabbed a fry, and took a bite. 

“I like these,” he decided after a moment, and reached for another one. 

“Do I get a name?” Logan asked. 

“No.”

“Very well, Diogenes.” The other man sipped at his iced tea. 

“A famous cynical philosopher. Touché.” He smiled a bit behind his drink as Logan reached for a fry. “My name’s Dorian.”

“Logan, as I believe you’ve already heard.” Dorian nodded to him, then took another fry. 

“I was correct in my guess that you were educated.”

“Oh?”

“The only people who frequent these places at this hour are either genius, drunk, or mad. Because you clearly aren’t drunk and you don’t speak like a churchish pig, genius is the only category I’m left with to define you by.”

“You forgot a category,” Logan stated, sipping at his coffee. He took a fry, looked at his drink, and dipped it in his coffee before trying it. Too bitter. He made a face and sipped at his coffee again, trying to wash out the weird taste in his mouth.

“What would that category be?” Dorian asked, looking amused at Logan’s unsuccessful flavor combination. 

“Desperate. And perhaps...adventurous, though those show up rarely. Even they sleep.”

“Desperate falls under the category of mad, I believe. Adventurous certainly does.”

“How so?”

“Mad with desperation, for example. That is a thing, you know.” Dorian took another fry. Someone in a far booth gave them an odd look. He looked drunk, though he had no beer in front of him and hadn’t been to the bar all evening.

“I am aware of that phrase. However, it all depends on your definition of mad, and your definition of desperation,” Logan countered. Dorian smirked. 

“Tell me more.” 

Logan tilted his head, then shrugged and adjusted his glasses again. This wasn’t the strangest thing that had happened to him by far, and he saw no harm in rolling along with the visit of this strange “Dorian” character as long as he remained civil. Which, so far, he had. 

A waltz started to play quietly in the diner. 

“For starters,” Logan said, pulling on his ‘teaching voice’ as he began, “the phrase ‘mad with desperation,’ as you put it, hinges on the definition of both words, not just the one or the other. Madness can mean anything from insanity and psychosis according to some, to mental illness, to mere eccentricity, which by psychological definition is not mad, but merely different from the norm. Desperation, on the other hand, can mean several different things as well. Someone desperate to use the restroom, for example, may come here to relieve themselves. Or on the other end of the spectrum, someone fleeing a toxic or abusive situation may wish to seek temporary shelter here. You would not call them mad, would you?”

Dorian leaned back, sipping at his iced tea. 

“I suppose I would not,” he conceded at last. “You intrigue me, Oh-One-With-The-Glasses.” 

Logan hummed his reply, then looked aside. “Ah, more visitors. I thought he’d come over here eventually.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare...” The man who had been watching them earlier now spoke up, standing behind Dorian with a partially apprehensive, partially embarrassed expression. A red and white varsity jacket hung from his shoulders, which were slumped with what Logan guessed to be exhaustion. “Ah...does your table have room for one more?” Dorian and Logan exchanged glances. 

“I suppose so. Who would you like to accompany for this fine conversation, Logan or myself?” Dorian asked. The new character looked between the two, then sat next to Dorian, who obligingly scooted over to make room. 

“I’m Roman,” he said as he sat down, his face blushing a delicate shade of red. “You guys... uh...you seemed interesting, I-I guess.”

“We met less than ten minutes ago,” Logan stated bluntly. 

“Ah, but that’s the fun part!” Dorian grinned at last, looking between Logan and the new visitor. “See, the reason that drunks, geniuses, and madmen all visit this place at this time is because the line between each is so thin, it may as well not exist at all.”

“I don’t drink,” Logan said. 

“For some of us, anyhow.” Dorian looked over at Roman. “And where do you fall in this category?”

“You two are insane.” Roman shook his head, reaching for a fry. “But...I couldn’t get to sleep, for some reason. Figured I might as well go somewhere rather than toss and turn all night.”

“Madman,” Dorian said with a nod, chuckling at Roman’s half-tired, half-outraged expression.

“Ha,” he said. “I guess you’re not wrong.”

“You’re sleep deprived,” Logan said. 

“Eh,” Dorian waved his hand, which had a yellow glove on it that Logan hadn’t noticed before. “Same difference, right Roman?”

“Falsehood. Just because the majority of a population believes in a fact or observation does not make said fact or observation correct. For example, the geocentric theory was believed by the majority in some places for hundreds of years, until science proved them wrong.” Logan crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Therefore, your statement is invalid.”

“I’m not following,” Roman mumbled. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Dorian locked eyes with Logan and grinned again. “This has been much more invigorating than I had expected...I like you,” he announced. 

“Just like that?” another voice asked. 

“Patton!” Logan spun around, and the waiter tilted his head at him. “You...you startled me.”

“Oh, sorry!” Patton held up his hands, still smiling cheerfully (how did he do that at this hour, anyways?). “It’s just me! My other customers left, so you guys are the only ones still in here.”

“You’re bored,” Dorian stated, and Patton nodded. 

“Welcome to the table.”

“What is it with you and inviting people to a table that’s not yours?” Logan asked as he scooted aside for Patton to take a seat next to him. “Some people would consider that to be bad manners, you know.”

“You’re not ‘some people,’ however, so that statement is redundant.”

“...Fair point.”

“You guys are insane,” Roman said again. 

“Everything is insane depending on how you look at it.” Dorian looked at his empty iced tea, then shrugged and grabbed another fry. 

“Do you want a refill?” Patton asked. 

“I’d like that.”

“Can I have hot chocolate?” Roman looked up from where he’d been staring at Dorian’s gloves, tilting his head slightly. 

“Sure!” Patton got up and quickly disappeared into the back room, returning a few minutes later with the ordered items. Roman sipped at his hot chocolate and nodded. 

“This is good,” he announced loudly as he set his mug down. “Good hot chocolate.”

“A real philosopher, are you?” Dorian asked with an amused look. 

“No philosophy, only chocolate.” Roman hugged his mug close to him and began whispering something at it. Logan raised an eyebrow. 

“So...you wish to debate?” he asked slowly, locking eyes with Dorian. 

“Pick a topic,” Dorian answered, leaning back against the booth. “Whatever you want.” 

“Oooh, this is gonna be fun!” Patton grinned, reaching for a fry and munching on it while he watched. Logan leaned back in his seat as well; looking at Dorian; considering his offer. 

“Human morality,” he said at last. “Tell me your opinion.”

“You choose a fascinating topic. Kudos to you.” Dorian sipped at his new glass of iced tea. 

“It’s useless and we’re all gonna die,” said a new voice. 

“Did I advertise a party over here?” Logan looked over at the new voice, who belonged to a grumpy-looking character with purple-dyed hair and eyeshadow-smudged cheeks.

"Hey Virgil!" Patton said cheerfully. "What brings you here from the back?"

"Boredom," was the answer. Virgil pointed at Roman. "And that idiot's shouting."

"You just don't understand chocolate," Roman declared, looking up from his mug. Virgil rolled his eyes and adjusted the patch jacket around his shoulders. 

"Scoot," he said to Patton, who obligingly moved over so he could sit. Logan made a face as he retreated to the corner of his booth to make room, but didn't object.

What a night this was turning out to be.

"As I was saying," Dorian said, waving a gloved hand in the air as he spoke. “Morality. That certainly has a fascinating role in society, does it not? After all, without it we wouldn’t have a society.”

“And we’d all be dead,” Virgil added. Dorian glared at him. 

“Not my point.”

“You believe that morality is necessary to form a society?” Logan asked. 

“I believe it is necessary to form a society such as the ones we humans live in, yes.” 

“Fascinating.” Logan leaned back against his booth, automatically reaching up a hand to fidget with his tie. 

“Mmmm...chocolate,” Roman murmured into his mug. 

“I mean, think about it,” Dorian continued, glancing at Roman but ignoring his dramatic proclamation. “Without morality, we would have no system of justice, which can only logically produce anarchy. The system of ‘strongest wins all’ would be the only system, larger governments couldn’t possibly form, and so on and so forth. Morality is necessary for the existence of society, and also beneficial to those who know how to exploit it.”

“Which is why it is not the groundwork of society, but a mere addition,” Logan cut in. “After all, society cannot exist without structure, no matter how advanced the morals of its citizens are. Logically, people will naturally come together for the benefit of the group, and a system of justice would arise by itself in order to preserve the good of the many. Therefore, morality isn’t necessary for justice at all; rather, it can actually hinder it due to the actions of those with morals that are considered to be ‘bad.’” He leaned forward and took a sip from his tea with a smirk, watching Dorian for a reaction. The other man grinned at him for the third time that night. 

“Well done, Logan,” he said. “I applaud you.” He raised an eyebrow. “So, you believe morals are unnecessary?” 

“They are for me.” At last, Logan himself grinned, sliding the bill over to Dorian and standing up. 

“Checkmate.”

#logan sanders #deceit sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #alcohol mention #fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides

[holylulusworld]

Drunken Passion

Request: Hey can you do a Drunk!Jensen x Sober!Reader were Jensen comes to reader horny and him and reader have sloppy sex and Jensen passes out before reader can finish, but he feels bad in the morning and makes it up to her. Sorry if that is a lot.

Pairing: Drunk!Jensen x Sober!Reader, Jensen x Reader

Warnings: drunk Jensen, alcohol abuse (don't do this!), fun, sloppy sex, drunk sex, unprotected sex, smut, fingering, oral (female receiving)

Switching through the channels you look for something worth to watch. Ending up watching an old episode of Supernatural you giggle. It's ‘yellow fever', one of your favorite's.

Hearing someone harshly knocking at your door you groan. ‘What the actual fuck!' You mutter annoyed. You swear if this is your smeary neighbor again you will smash his face.

When you open the door a grinning Jensen winks at you. He smells like a liquor store and you shake your head. So your best friend got drunk again to bunker in your guest room.

"Jay? Did you fall into a barrel of booze?"

"Huh? No…just had a few drinks and thought I visit my hot friend," Jensen slurs eyeing you up and down.

"Alright Romeo, come in. Let's sober you up."

A bright grin on his handsome face and flushed cheeks Jensen stumbles into your apartment. Helping him reach the couch you feel him grabbing your ass.

"Okay, sit down. I'll bring you some water Mr. Drunk my ass off."

"No, no. Stay. You look so sexy…hmm…those shorts let your ass look so…did I mention your breasts…fuck…I want you," Jensen slurs and your eyes widen.

"Okay, Cowboy. How much did you drink?"

"Not too much, Baby. Hmm…all things I want to do with you. Come here. Sit on my lap. Need to feel you." He groans now.

"I guess I should bring you to bed now."

"Damn right!" Jensen chuckles grabbing your hand to drag you toward your bedroom.

"Jay, I meant sleep not what you have in mind," you scold looking at the bulge in his pants.

"On the bed my sexy girl! I'm going to make you feel things you never felt before."

"Sure. Lie down. I'll bring you some water."

A low grunt leaves his throat and he grabs your wrists. Pushing you on the bed he almost crushes you with his weight. Clumsily moving one hand into your shorts he rubs your clit.

"Jay, your drunk…fuck…we shouldn't."

"Shhh…going to fuck you good," He grunts kissing you sloppily.

Licking into your mouth he makes you giggle. It's not that you didn't do this before but he's adorable while being drunk.

Somehow he manages to shove your pants down. Wiggling his cock out of his pants he strokes it and can't find the goal...

"God, Jensen. Let me help you."

Shaking your head and laughing you guide his cock into your entrance. Slurring Jensen curses and grunts when he starts thrusting into you.

His movement is beyond uncoordinated and you do your best to meet his really sloppy thrusts.

Well, at least he seems to have fun. Face flushed he tries to find your lips to kiss you and fails.

Kissing your nose instead he makes an odd noise right before he comes…seconds later he passes out…on top of you.

"Dammit Jay, you're heavy and I didn't come…"

A few minutes later you manage to flip him over to get him off your body. Groaning you stuff his cock back into his pants before you remove his shoes.

Covering Jensen with a blanket you lie down next to him to get some sleep too.

-----

Brewing fresh coffee and frying some bacon you sway your hips. Silently walking into your kitchen Jensen watches you.

"Hey…uh…morning," he stammers.

"Morning. Headache?"

"No…uh…last night…did we?"

"Oh, yeah. You rocked my world, Jensen. I felt things I never felt before," you say laughing.

"Crap…uh…was I good?"

"Truth or shall I lie?"

"Truth…please."

"You failed in every possible way. You didn't find the goal, kissed my nose instead of my lips and you passed out on top of me…"

"I didn't make you come…right?"

"Jay, you were drunk. By the way, you're adorable while being drunk."

"Shit…sorry."

"What? You made me laugh and you had fun."

"But you didn't have fun, Y/N."

"Hey, better with me than with a stranger. You forgot to use protection, Jensen."

"Fuck…I really messed up."

"I liked it…you know…well, except that I didn't come."

"Let me make it up to you. I had a shower…my teeth are brushed…"

"Huh?"

Taking your hand in his head leads you back to your bedroom. Wearing only a towel Jensen towers over you. Green orbs focussed on you he gently strokes your cheek.

Brushing his lips over yours he smiles against your lips. Deepening the kiss you move your hands through his hair. His hands trail behind your back to shove your sleep shirt up your body.

"No panties?" He asks tossing your shirt aside.

"Didn't want to wake you up."

"Lucky me…"

Hands moving through your hair he tilts his head to kiss you softly. Sliding his tongue with yours he gently moans.

A tiny whimper leaves your lips when he walks you backward until your legs hit your bed. Grabbing his neck you fall onto the bed with Jensen on top of you.

One swift motion and the towel around his hips is gone. His lips never leave yours while he moves your legs around his waist.

"Jay, fuck…need you."

"Let me prep you first," Jensen groans against your lips.

"I had a foreplay…well … I…fuck I took care of myself while you were still asleep half an hour ago…"

"You rubbed yourself next to me?"

"Kinda…I mean…Who would not?"

"God, you're perfect."

"Come on, rock my world, Ackles!" You tease.

"Uh-huh…I will." Jensen snickers stroking his cock.

Watching him you lick your lips. He looks so hot right now. Dirty blonde hair still a bit damp from his shower, sun-kissed skin…all the little freckles… Biting his lower lip his green eyes are fixated on you.

A cocky grin on his lips he gives you a knowing smirk.

"Yeah. I like what I see…Ackles." You grunt.

"I know me too."

Pushing slowly into you he kisses you again. Inch per inch he enters your slick channel. Lips pressed against lips, his body as close as possible to yours he starts thrusting into you.

Hips moving slow and even he holds you in his arms. Moving your hands through his hair you lock eyes with him.

Rocking into you he kisses down your neck. Your hands are still in his hair while he moans against your skin. The warm feeling in your belly gets stronger with every hard stroke of his cock.

"You close?" He whispers and you whimper in response.

Knowing you're close but he so much closer he pumps hard into you. Digging your nails into his shoulders you arch your back. Moaning his name you feel him filling you with his cum.

"Okay, you rocked my world, Jay."

"So I made it up to you?"

"Hmm…yeah. Maybe…"

"How about doing it again to be sure I let you feel things you never felt before?"

"Jay, we shouldn't … we are friends."

"We could be more than friends…you know that, Y/N."

"Fine, rock my world again, Jay…"

Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22 , @curly-haired-disaster-deactivat, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom , @thewinchesterco , @hobby27, @kittycatlover18,   @gh0stgurl , @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana15, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt​, @katpatrova17​, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @onethingthatkeepsmealive, @natura1phenomenon​, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @anushay1998

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-thewinchesters​, @love-my-not-natural-babies​, @supernatural-bellawinchester​, @butifulsoul125​, @lyinginthegingerlocks​, @mirandaaustin93​, @hawaiianohana15​, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen, @thefaithfulwriter, @x2closebut2farx

#SPN #spn fanfic #spn smut #spn tag #Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles one shots #jensen x reader #Smut #request fill #drunken jensen #fun #drunken sex

[sagesparrow394]

Making a Family

Fandom: Sanders Sides

AU: Human, Orphanage

Summary: All Logan’s ever wanted is to meet his father and have a real family. But what if his dad isn’t all he’d dreamed him up to be? What if blood isn’t what really defines a family?

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains themes of domestic abuse and murder, as well as swearing.

Previous / Chapter 2 / Next

Later that day, Patton and Roman had been called away by Thomas as well as a few other kids, so Logan figured there was no reason to stay downstairs. He headed upstairs to his room and read for a while. He was currently reading Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, and found it very interesting to read about the rise and fall of Pip’s fortune.

He was just nearing the last chapter of the novel when there was a knock on his door. He slotted his bookmark in before slipping down off his bunk. When he opened his door, he found the corridor before him empty of anyone else. However, there was something else there: by his feet, a jar of his favourite jam, Crofters.

He stepped forward and picked it up, confused. When he turned around, he saw yet another jar further down the corridor, and then a third after that.

He followed the jam trail, picking up jar after jar until his arms were full, by which time he had reached the common room. He pushed open the door, confused, and stepped in.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Logan’s eyes widened. Decorations were all around the room: balloons, banners, and a few gifts on a table in the corner. All the kids in the orphanage were there as well as Thomas.

“What is all this…?” Logan asked. The birthday celebrations at the orphanage were never usually this extravagant.

“Logan, it’s not just your fifth birthday, but your fifth anniversary of living in the orphanage,” Thomas explained. “I figured that deserved a special celebration.”

Patton ran over to Logan, taking his hand, and pulled him fully into the room and over to the gift table. “Roman and I went out with Thomas to get you presents! I hope you like them!”

Logan was speechless. A special celebration just for him? Everyone attending? Two people he only properly met today getting him gifts? He almost felt like he was going to cry.

The celebrations started with Logan opening cards and presents. Thomas got him a book of Sherlock short stories, Patton got him a onesie (Logan was initially wasn’t fond of it being a unicorn, but found the softness made it worth it), and Roman got him a dress with a galaxy pattern, which must have inspired by a conversation Logan had started about space when they were playing. When some kids snickered about Logan getting a dress, Roman had stood up, glared at them, and adamantly quoted Logan, “Clothes shouldn’t be just for boys or just for girls! Kids should just wear what they want.”

Once again, Logan came close to crying.

After, it was games. Pass the parcel, pin the tail on the donkey, piñata, all the usual party games.

It was the best day of Logan’s life. He got to throw away the books, the knowledge, the maturity and just be a kid for once in his life. He had two friends, and got to pretend he had more with the rest of the children.

After the many games, it was time for the part they’d all been waiting for. Everyone was sat down, waiting for Thomas to come back. Soon, the man came in, holding a tray which had a large cake on top, decorated with blue icing, five candles, and black writing that read ‘Happy Birthday Logan!”

Thomas started singing as he entered, all the other children joining in and singing to Logan who flushed a little but did kind of love the attention.

Once the song was over and the cake was placed on the coffee table in front of him, Logan closed his eyes.

I wish to meet my dad.

He blew out the candles.

From out in the hall, there was the sound of a knock on the front door. Logan’s heart leapt. Could it be…?

Thomas got up where he was crouched with the kids and left the room, muttering about not expecting any guests. Logan listened carefully, hoping to hear a man’s voice asking for him when Thomas opened the front door.

However, the sound that followed the door opening was not a man’s voice, but a baby’s cries.

“Oh my gosh, are you two okay?! What are you doing out on your own so late?” Thomas’ voice came from the hall.

The was a reply from what sounded like a child, who spoke through sobs. “I-I didn’t know wh-where else to go…”

A few seconds later, Thomas came back into the common room. Trailing behind him was a boy about Logan, Patton and Roman’s age. He was wearing purple pyjamas and black slippers. He had black hair, dark skin, and heterochromia. His right eye was purple, and his left was green. In his arms, he held a baby, which was wrapped in a yellow blanket. The baby, like the boy, had dark skin, black hair, and heterochromia - though their eyes were brown and yellow. The baby also had vitiligo, most prominently on the left side of their face.

Thomas sat the boy down on the couch, checking over him and the baby for injuries. He didn’t see any, but could hear the baby’s tummy rumble. He turned to one of the older children. “Emile, I keep baby formula up in one of the cupboards in the kitchen. Would you mind going and making up a bottle?”

“No problem!” Emile turned and left the room, heading to the kitchen. Thomas turned back to the newcomers.

“What are your names?”

The boy sniffled before replying. “I’m Virgil… A-and this is my b-brother, Deceit…”

“Deceit?” Logan couldn’t help but inquire about the baby’s odd name.

Virgil’s eyes flickered to Logan for a moment before going back to his brother. “H-he was named after m-my mom’s nickname for m-my dad… ‘Deceitful Bastard’.”

Thomas, Logan and all the older kids looked shocked and surprised, while most of the younger kids were looking confused and curious at the new word. Virgil kept his eyes down.

“I just call him Dee for short…”

Thomas crouched in front of Virgil, looking up at him. “Virgil, can you tell me why you came here? What happened to your parents?”

Tears welled in Virgil’s eyes again, and he sniffed again before explaining. “I-I was putting Dee to bed, wh-when I started hearing yells from downstairs… Mom and Dad fight a lot, s-so I didn’t think anything of it… Until I heard a bang and a thud… Curious, I w-went downstairs… a-and into the k-kitchen…” He choked on a sob. “Mom holding a f-frying pan… and Dad o-on the g-g-ground… B-blood w-was all o-over the f-floor… I d-didn’t know wh-what to do, s-so I just grabbed Dee and r-ran…”

“Oh, Virge… I’m so sorry...” Thomas sat down next to him, rubbing the boy’s back soothingly. “I promise you’re safe now, and we’ll take care of you here. I’m Thomas, I own this place and take care of everyone here. I’ll go start getting you and Dee rooms set up. We’ll make you feel at home here, I promise.” He gave Virgil a small hug, before getting up and leaving the room.

Virgil kept his eyes down on his brother, rocking Dee gently to calm him down. Emile came back in, a baby bottle in hand, and sat beside Virgil. He held the bottle out to him, giving a kind smile. Virgil finally looked up. He muttered a thank you before taking the bottle and raising it to Dee’s lips. The baby immediately fell quiet, drinking the milk.

“Th-there was a birthday party g-going on, wasn’t there…” Virgil spoke up. “I’m sorry, f-for ruining it…”

“Don’t be,” Logan replied. “You shouldn’t be apologising for seeking asylum and safety.” He pulled the candles from his birthday cake, before picking up the knife beside it and cutting a slice. He placed it on a plate with a fork, before holding out to Virgil.

Virgil blinked in surprise, looking between Logan and the cake slice. His eyes went down to Dee, silently communicating that he can’t take the slice while he’s holding his brother. Patton saw this and came over, plopping down next to Virgil.

“I can hold him while you eat if you want,” he offered, holding out his arms. Virgil was uncertain at first, but after looking over Patton, he moved Dee into the other’s arms. Patton smiled down at the baby. “He’s adorable…”

Virgil smiled a little as he took the cake slice from Logan. Roman sat on the couch next to Patton, peering over his shoulder at Dee. “What’s with his face?”

Virgil’s face fell, about to glare at Roman, when Logan spoke up.

“It’s called vitiligo. It’s a skin condition characterized by patches of the skin losing their pigment. The patches of skin affected become white.”

Virgil looked back to Logan, surprised. “You know about vitiligo…? I’ve never met anyone my age who does…”

Logan shrugged. “I read a lot. My name’s Logan, by the way.”

“I’m Patton!”

“And I’m Roman.”

Virgil’s smile returned. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

At that moment, Dee pulled away from his bottle, starting to cry again. Virgil put his cake to the side and took Dee from Patton’s arms, lifting him onto his shoulder. He gently patted Dee’s back until the baby burped and relaxed, no longer crying.

“You’re really good with children,” Patton commented, shuffling closer to Virgil, who shrugged.

“Mom went out a lot and Dad had work. I had to learn to look after him.”

Logan couldn’t help but draw the connection to how he had to learn to look after himself.

Thomas came back in then. “Lucky we had a crib up in the attic Dee can use. I also put in an order for anything he’d need. Changing table, plush toys, rocking chair to use to rock him to sleep. The only problem is, the room I’ve moved him in is the smallest one.”

“Mine’s the smallest one!” Roman spoke up.

“That’s what I was going to say. Since all the stuff for Dee is going to take up all the room, I moved your bed to the biggest room. Virgil will take the other bunk on your bed, and you both will share a room with Logan and Patton.”

Patton let out a cheer. “We’re all roomies!” He wrapped his arms around his three new friends, causing Virgil to have to adjust his hold on Dee. It also made Logan freeze up. He wasn’t used to hugs and physical contact.

It was actually pretty nice.

Taglist:@justcallmepancake, @the-doctor-demigod-wizard, @absolutesandersidestrash, @youre-lazy-and-youre-gay0-0, @lilygold23, @analogicallythinking, @bunny222 

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #sanders sides logan #patton sanders #sanders sides patton #roman sanders #sanders sides roman #virgil sanders #sanders sides virgil #deceit sanders #sanders sides deceit #sanders sides au #au #orphan au #orphanage au #fanfiction #fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #tw domestic abuse #tw murder #tw swearing

[distractedhistotech]

Before MSA + 1: Finding Kin

Lance had been having a pretty normal day before he got a phone call at 1:13PM.

“Hello, may I speak to Lance Kingsman?” asked the man on the other side.

“Speaking.”

“This is Child Protection Services.”  He was a bachelor with no kids.  “Are you related to an Arthur Kingsman?”

Lance paused. “No idea.”  It had been a while since he’d spoken to the rest of his family. “I got a cousin living in the states.”

“Percival Kingsman?”

Lance nodded.  “Yeah.”

“We determined Percival Kingsman is the name of Arthur’s father, but when we suggested reuniting Arthur with the rest of his family, he had a panic attack.  We checked the records and found your name listed as a relative.  Do you have any idea if Percival might be abusing Arthur?”

Lance shrugged. “Can’t say.  I haven’t seen Percy in 20 years, but he did have a bit of a temper. I lost touch with him after he joined that cult.”

“Yes, the Return to God Movement…”  The agent seemed rather unsure.  Not that Lance could blame her.  He found the whole concept confusing.

“So, what’s gonna happen to Arthur?” asked Lance.

“Well, he’s being evaluated.  If he’s mentally stable, he will be placed in foster care.”

Lance briefly wondered why the kid’s sanity was in question before deciding it was unimportant. Then he made another important decision. “Nah, I can look after him.”

“That’s…allowed,” admitted the officer.  “But you just found out about Arthur.  Are you even prepared to look after a child?”

“No idea, but I intend to give it a try,” said Lance.  Maybe it seemed to come out of the blue to the case worker, but Lance’s father and uncle had been trying to get Percy out of that cult almost as soon as he joined and had made plans and preparations in case he left.  When they’d gotten old and become sicker, they’d asked Lance to take over in case Percy or anyone else got out.

Lance hadn’t actually been expecting to keep that promise, but he wasn’t going to just abandon his kin.  “Now, where is he?”

“Calhoun, Mississippi.”

After exchanging a bit more information, Lance promised to be there tomorrow and hung up to go get ready.  He threw his things into an overnight bag, made some calls to customers to let them know he’d have to delay some repairs, and cleaned up the guest room.  He called in a guest room, but it was more like a storage room that someone had shoved a bed into for some reason.  He’d have to find somewhere else to keep the boxes now.

Most of them ended up in Lance’s room.  He decided this was fine for now, got into his truck, and started driving.

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

Lance got to Calhoun with no problems and went to the CPS building first thing in the morning. He introduced himself to the secretary, was taken to a large room in the back, and sat down to wait.

After several minutes of waiting, the door opened to a middle-aged woman with a clipboard.  She smiled at Lance.  “Hello, I’m Wanda Byrd.”

Lance nodded in greeting.  “Lance Kingsman.”

Wanda nodded back before looking behind her.  “C’mon. One foot in front of the other.”

A kid, 11 or 12 shuffled in.  He was hunched over and hugging himself.  He glanced at Lance nervously before looking away.  Lance noticed that he had the Kingsman hair: Orange hair that quickly faded to bright yellow with a black lock at the front.  The kid also had the odd orange-brown eyes that sometimes popped up in their family.

“Hey kid.” Lance got up off the chair, noting he was about the same size as the kid.  “It’s Arthur, right?”

Arthur nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Right, I’m gonna be honest.  I have no idea how to do this,” admitted Lance.  That got Arthur to look at Lance again.  “I have no experience with kids.  I’m making this up as I go along.  I might say something that upsets you, but it’s not intentional.  I’m just blunter than most people.”

Arthur blinked in confusion.

“Now, we don’t know each other.  That’s not your fault.  It’s not my fault.”  Personally, Lance thought it was Percy’s fault, but he wasn’t going to say that within the first five minutes of meeting the man’s son.  “But we are kin, and I would like to get to know you and help you. I’m not sure how much I can help you, but I’m certainly going to try to do as much as I can.”

Arthur shuffled. “I…Why is everyone trying to help me?”

Wanda smiled at Arthur.  “I know the leaders of your community said that the world is full of horrible people, but most people are genuinely good.  People who will do what they can to help others.”

Arthur looked away. “But I killed-”

“Someone who was going to hurt you,” finished Wanda.

Lance’s eyebrows rose to his hairline.  Seems that someone had forgotten to share that piece of information with him. Arthur’s eyes darted towards Lance. “I’m not gonna judge ya.”  He turned to the Wanda.  “So, how are we gonna do this?”

“Well, we need to see how the two of you interact with each other.  Then we have to determine if you’ll be able to deal with Arthur’s particular needs.”

Right.  Kid probably needed therapy.  Lance had some money saved up.  They should be okay.  He just needed to be sure the kid liked him.  He still wasn’t sure how to go about that, but he figured they could at least sit down while they got to know each other and pulled out the chair at the nearby table.  It took a few moments for Arthur to follow his example with the caseworker right behind him.

“So, what do you like to do?” asked Lance.

“I…”  Arthur paused.  He looked lost.  “I don’t know.”

“…”  Okay, this was just wrong.  Lance turned to Wanda.  “Do we have to do this here or can it be anywhere in the city?”

“As long as the two of you have supervision.”

Lance nodded. Seemed reasonable.  “You got any arcades around here?”

Wanda winced. “Arthur doesn’t seem comfortable around crowds yet.”

“Ah, sorry, didn’t think of that.”  Lance thought a bit more.  “What about a comic store?  One with chairs?”

Surprisingly, the center listed three comic stores like this.  Lance asked if any were near restaurants.  That narrowed it down to one.  Lance loaded them up into his truck and they were at the store roughly 20 minutes later.

“If you see something that looks interesting, go ahead and grab it,” said Lance as he looked for anything he might like.  Lance wasn’t a huge comic fan, but he had read some as a kid.  And comics had come a long way since then.  Some comics were serious and had plots that were genuinely interesting even to adults.  He should be able to find something he can read.

Arthur was just staring at the various comics in confusion.  “Which comes first?”

Lance paused. “Most of these comics have been running for decades.”

Arthur stared. “But-how does anyone know what’s going on?”

Aw Hell.  This might be more complicated than Lance had thought.  He looked around for maybe a graphic novel or a one shot and noticed several thick books that were the first volume of various Marvel titles.  That ought to work.  “Try these.  They’re the first few issues from the 60’s.”

Arthur stared at the thicker volumes in confusion for several minutes.  He eventually picked up The Incredible Hulk and cautiously read the first few pages.  He frowned. “Science doesn’t work like this.”

“Hm?”

“Radiation poisoning does not give people special abilities.  It causes random mutations that vary cell by cell and causes the body to break down rapidly to the point where organs break down.  If one somehow survives, they would definitely suffer from various types of cancers.  Besides that, Dr. Banner breaks the Law of Conservation of Mass.  Perhaps energy could be converted into mass, but that would only be possible during the explosion, and changing back into his normal form would cause some sort of release of energy.  And the physics are all wrong…”

“They care more about the story than the science,” interrupted Lance.  Arthur abruptly seemed to shrink back from him.  Lance mentally kicked himself.  “Sorry, that came out wrong.”  Arthur gave him a surprised look.  “What I mean is…people don’t read ‘em for the science.  It’s to see people overcome odds that they normally wouldn’t be able to, and powers make it so that they are more capable of that. Yeah, some of ‘em don’t make sense. The writers aren’t scientists so they have to do some guesswork.  It’s just good fun.”

“Fun…”  Arthur stared at the comic.  “I…Can I have fun?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah, you just have to figure out what you enjoy doing.  You sounded pretty passionate about science just now.  Want to tell me a bit more about what the writers got wrong?”

Arthur glanced between Lance and the comic a bit more before hesitantly nodding.  The three of them sat down at one of the tables with their purchases.  Arthur took a few minutes before he found something else that bothered him and started talking about it, showing more knowledge on the subjects than Lance would have expected from a kid his age.

Lance made a note that Arthur was probably smarter than him.

Around noon, Lance decided it was time for lunch and hustled everyone to a burger restaurant.

Arthur stared at the burger and fries and milkshake like he’d never seen something like them before.  Maybe he hadn’t.  “What do you usually eat?”

“Roasted meat. Cooked vegetables.  Bread.”  Arthur picked up a fry.  “What is it?”

“Hamburgers are beef between a couple of slices of bread basically,” said Lance.  “You can add things like tomatoes and lettuce and onions to them.”  He pointed at the fries.  “French fries are potatoes sliced and fried in oil and salted.”  He pointed at the milkshake.  “That’s ice cream blended with milk.  Ice cream is cream mixed with sugar and some other flavors and then frozen.” Lance took a bite of his own hamburger. “Just take one bite of each and we won’t nag you about it.”

Arthur cautiously bit a fry in half.  He blinked in surprise as he chewed it and decided to eat the rest of the fry.  Then he ate a few more.  He took a cautious sip from his milkshake and blinked in surprise. He took another sip.  He ate the rest of his fries.  He drank some more of his milkshake.  He studied his hamburger and took a bite, less cautious than before. He ate about half of his burger before Lance noticed Arthur was starting to look a bit sick.  “You don’t have to eat it all.”

Arthur winced. “But…you can’t waste food.”

“You shouldn’t,” agreed Lance.  “But accidents happen.  As long as you don’t make a habit of it, don’t feel too bad about it.”

Arthur gulped but stopped eating at least.  Lance decided to count it as a win.

Lance wasn’t entirely sure what to do after lunch.  He considered a movie, but thought maybe it would be better if Arthur got his first movie experience in a controlled environment.

They ended up going to a library instead.  Books were practically the same as movies except you had to come up with the pictures yourself.

Arthur seemed a lot more comfortable in the library than anywhere else they’d been.  He went straight for…the nonfiction section? Arthur studied where various subjects could be found and headed for one particular shelf where he grabbed a book on robotics.

Lance took a moment to grab a book on refurbishing cars and glanced towards Wanda.  She just shrugged.  Fine.

They went to a set of chairs where Lance and Arthur started reading.  Lance occasionally glanced towards Arthur.  Arthur seemed engrossed in his book.  “So, you like robots?”

“Oh, uh, I like mechanical stuff,” explained Arthur.  “And I’ve never gotten the chance to learn about robots before.”

Lance nodded.  “I’m pretty fond of mechanical stuff too.  Even repair cars for a living.”

Arthur looked up. “Really?  What’s that like?”

It was the first time Arthur had asked about Lance’s life, and Lance was relieved to answer.  “It’s more fulfilling than you’d think.  Been doing it since I was a kid.  Got a junker of a car to fix up when it was getting around time for me to get a car.  It was a lot harder than I thought it would be.  More expensive too, but I didn’t give up.  Asked local mechanics for advice.  Read some books.  Eventually, I got it running again, and I enjoyed working on it, so I thought I ‘d see if I could make a career out of it.  It was hard work, and it took a while to pay off my student loans, but I can’t see myself doing anything else.”

Arthur turned around the book he was reading so that a robot arm was showing.  “Could you make an arm?”

Lance chuckled. “That’s a bit outside my area of expertise.  I mostly work on cars.  I know enough do some repairs around the house, like the air conditioning unit or the oven.  That’s…” He pointed at the picture.  “…a lot more complicated.”

Arthur frowned and turned the book around to look at the picture.  “I wanted to build robots, but we didn’t have anything like that.”

“That’s…specific,” said Lance.  He wasn’t sure what Arthur could do with that, but with how many things were automated nowadays he could probably find something.  “Well, I don’t think you’ll be able to take any mechanical courses until high school, but I can get you started on the basics when I have some free time.”

Arthur gave Lance a startled look.  “What do you mean?”

Now Lance was a bit confused.  “You like robots?”  Arthur nodded.  “You like science?”  Arthur nodded again.  “Would you like to make a living building robots?”  Arthur nodded.  “Then you’ll need to take the proper courses to get into college and learn how to do that.”

Arthur gaped at Lance. “You-you’re okay with me making robots for a living?”

Lance nodded.  “The way things are going it’ll be a good field to get into, and even if you decide robots aren’t for you, you’ll still be pretty good at fixing things, and things’ll always need fixing.”  Arthur was still staring.  “Okay, I’m thinking I’m missing something.  What’s got you so gobsmacked?”

“You’re letting me choose what to do!” exclaimed Arthur, getting a few hushes.

Lance grunted.  “’Course I am.  It’s your life.  You should get to choose how to live it.”  He paused. “Well, as long as you’re not hurting yourself or anyone else.  No drugs or stealing or the like.”

Arthur nodded, still looking shocked.  “Are children always allowed to choose what to become?”

“Well, they might change their mind.  Can’t grow up to be a dinosaur.”  That got a snort from Arthur.  “And well, you shouldn’t encourage someone who wants to join a gang or the like.  Still, it’s best to let people choose what they want to be on their own.  Most people want to do what they enjoy, and that makes sense.  If you enjoy something, you do it when you have free time, and you become good at it.  And people want jobs done well and correctly the first time since it saves everyone time and money.”

Arthur blinked. “Huh.  I never thought about it like that.  I was always told my role would be chosen by my commander when I was old enough.”

Lance snorted and shook his head.  “Stupid.”

Arthur bit his lip. “So, you would be all right with me pursuing a career in making robots?  Even if it was unrealistic?”

“I don’t think it’s unrealistic,” said Lance.  “And even if it was, I’d at least let you give it a try while making sure you had useful skills for a backup job.”

“Like fixing cars?” suggested Arthur.

Lance nodded.  “Or cooking or child care.  Things that will always be in demand.”

“I’m not allowed near children,” said Arthur rather nervously.

“Why?”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “I, uh, I wasn’t…They didn’t…” Arthur trailed off.  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough.” Arthur would talk about it when he was ready.

“So, um, you want me to live with you?” asked Arthur.  Lance nodded.  “And you don’t mind me doing what I want as long as no one gets hurt?”  Lance nodded.  “Including working with robots when I grow up?”  Lance nodded.  “Even though we’ve never met.”  Lance nodded. “Just because we happen to be related.”

“It’s more than that,” said Lance.  “You need help.  Have needed help for a while from the sound of it, and no one would step up.  Now, a lot of people could help you.  Would you trust them?”  Arthur shook his head?  “Do you trust me?”  Arthur shook his head.  “Didn’t think so.  Can’t really blame ya either.  But I know a thing or two about our family.  Like the fact that’s your natural hair color.  Your family had a Knights of the Round Table naming theme.”  He gave Arthur a pointed look.  “That your old man had a short temper and refused to believe anything was his fault.”  Arthur winced.  “Yeah, and I bet the sort of people he fell in with were pretty similar to him.” Arthur nodded.  “That’s all the reason I need.”

Arthur looked down in thought for several moments before finally looking up and looking Lance in the eye.  “Okay. I’ll…I’ll try to make this work.”

Lance chuckled.  “That’s my line.”  He glanced towards Wanda, who gave him a nod and a smile.

Looks like he was getting a kid then.

#Lance Kingsman #Arthur Kingsman #Mystery skulls animated #msa + 1 #au

[heyhowdyhellohi]

How Quickly We Mend Pt. 6

Masterlist here

Peter Maximoff x OC (NOT PIETRO FROM THE AVENGERS! PETER AS IN EVAN PETERS AS IN X-MEN)

Warning: TRIGGER WARNING: ABUSE, Language Probably

Words: (estimated) 1.8k

Summary: X-Men Days of Future Past timeline, plus an oc healing mutant, Amelia. I’m not doing that thing where I quote huge chunks of the movie. This is going to be related, and then it’s going to veer off into its own thing, namely a love story between Peter and the reader.

HEAVILY EDITED

Peter practically inhales two whole boxes of pizza when he returns and Amelia shoves her worries to the side like she always does and eats half of the third pizza. Peter is flopped onto one of the plush brown leather couches of what appears to be a half library-half sitting room. Amy curls up in an arm chair. Both of them sit and digest for a bit as Peter prattles on an endearing story about his sisters and how he bothers them.

“And to this day we haven’t found that rubber ball.” Peter concludes his epic tale.

“It’s still inside him?!” Amy exclaims, dumbfounded.

“Well I don’t know where else it could be!” Peter shrugs, just as confused as she is.

“Does Wanda know?” Amy presses, leaning in conspiratorially, as though his sister could overhear them if she spoke too loudly.

“I’ve been too scared to ask. We haven’t talked about it since that day,” Peter admits solemnly. They laughed at life’s serendipity before settling into a warm silence.

“I never had any siblings. And I never really got to see my cousins that much.” Amy vocalizes.

“Family’s overrated.” Peter stretches and shifts to face her. “Hey, why do you trust these guys so much?” Peter seems to already be regaining his zooming energy as he is suddenly by the book shelf flipping through the pages of an old green edition as though it’s a flip-book.

“Who?” Amy rests her head on the back of the seat. She knows who.

“Hank, Charles and Logan. I mean, for me it’s fine. I don’t need to trust them, I can just make a run for it if things go south. But your power can’t protect you,” Peter explains a bit, looking half interested in the conversation as he puts the green book back and opens another one, red. The spine cracks when he opens it. But Amy knows his nonchalance is an act. He’s flipping through the pages slowly, one by one.

“I’ve been alone since I found out I was a freak,” Amy turns her head to look down at her feet, suddenly realizing that dirty shoes have no place stepping on a very nice leather arm chair. She lowers her feet to the ground, resting them instead on the elegant Persian rug. It doesn’t make her feel better. “I finally have the chance to be a part of something.”

“Hey, freaks are way cooler that normies. I prefer them actually,” Peter says, very matter-of-fact.

Peter sleeps on the couch. Amelia spends the night resting on top of the bed covers, fully clothed, in a room with a window to the garden. She had pulled the curtains apart to watch the stars. The air is stiff and stale, thick with the smell of disuse, as she stares up at the ceiling in the moonlight. She finds herself wondering if Peter would sit with her if she asked him to. But she knows she wouldn’t feel comfortable with him in the room as she tried to sleep. She thinks he’s both exciting and terrifying, but she’s not sure why. She fights with herself, because he’s just a boy, a nice boy who worries about her, that’s all. But it’s nice to think about being close to someone. Feeling ridiculous because there are a thousand better things to worry about in this particular moment, she turns to the window and counts the stars until the sun rises. Sleep seems about as far out of reach to her as the lights in the sky.

In the early morning, as the light casts shadows onto the hardwood and Amy watches the sun awaken the world through her window, there’s a commotion. Downstairs, the door has opened and something is happening, something that has caused raised voices and worry. Amy bolts up in bed and runs to the entrance despite the stiffness in her limbs and neck. The halls are confusing and maze-like, especially as they catch the early morning light in such an unfamiliar way, but she’s certain she’s moving towards the sound of voices.

“Don’t worry, Professor. I’ll get your medicine!” Hank runs up the stairs in the entrance, shooting her a small ‘hello’ before moving past her, long legs taking the steps two-at-a-time.

“What’s wrong with him?” Amelia asks from the top of the steps. She feels an empty, faintly vacuum-like feeling in her chest, and without looking she knows her hands are shaking. Logan is holding Charles up as the scrawny man rests all of his weight against the wall behind him.

“I don’t know. Stay over there,” Logan points at her, glancing her way for only a moment. “Professor, why can’t you walk?”

Amy ignores Logan and descends the stairs as Charles groans at whatever wounds he feels. She can’t see anything, blood, bruises, or otherwise. She stands by the two men, just out of arms reach of either of them. She wants to take his pain away and run away until her feet bleed all at once. It takes all of her will power to just keep her feet still.

“It’s the medicine. It’s fading. I missed doses.” Charles explains, gasping through the pain.

“You just hold on, Charles.” Logan helps him slide to the ground, legs splayed out in front of him.

“Amy,” he chokes out through whimpers, whipping his hands up to his head, over his ears. “You’re so afraid.”

“What is he doing? Why’s he saying that?” Amy backs up further. But she can’t escape the reach of his mind. It’s like plunging through tepid water and suddenly being two places at once. A part of her can hear Logan yelling for her, worried, confused. The other part of her is remembering, and she can feel Charles invading like a shadow weighing down on her mind, keeping her submerged.

Amy saw the first time her father hit her. His red face yelling right at her. The defiant flame in her chest as she talked back. Then the pain on her cheek.

“Amy!”

Then she saw as her father apologized for hitting her. Amy was wrapped in his arms, and despite everything she felt warm and safe and she forgave him the moment she saw the tears in his eyes.

“Professor! What the fuck are you doing to her!”

Amy was in her bedroom, curled up under her faded, hand-me-down comforter that did nothing to keep out the cold. She couldn’t sleep, haunted by the sounds of her mother’s pain and memories of her own helplessness. She felt the confusion, deep in her stomach with a vividness that had faded as the years crept by. If he loves me, why does he keep hitting me? How can I forgive him for hitting mom? How can I not forgive him? He’s my father. Is it really my fault like he says it is? Amy was that helpless child again, always willing to forgive and hope.

“She’s crying! Can’t you see you’re hurting her?”

Amy relives her mother rushing her into the closet in her bedroom when her father came home. She can feel the scratchy flannel she pressed into her mouth to keep from sobbing too loudly. Amy remembers listening as he beat her mother and being incapable of doing anything to protect the person she loves most in the world.

“Snap out of it! Please!”

Amy’s powers manifesting. The first time she was numb as her father beat her. The first time she looked into the bathroom mirror and watched the bruise and the bloody cut on her face disappear all on their own. The panic. The countless times Amy would lay with her mother and heal her after her father hurt her, and cry soundlessly at the pain that blazed through her every cell like a wild fire.

“Peter! Take her the fuck away from here!”

“It won’t help, Logan, he’s too powerful.” Hank is in her memory? No, Hank is outside. Hank is real. Hank’s yelling.

She saw her father burn a cigarette into her skin, and watch it heal. She felt the needles in her scalp as he grabbed her by the hair and threw her outside. Freak, he had called her. She felt the boiling tears and violent sobs as her own mother wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t fight for her. As much as she begged and called at the door, they didn’t open it all night. It wasn’t until morning that her father came out with a gun and threatened to shoot her unless she left. Amy watched for the second time as the cowering shape of her mother whispered ‘Go away” from behind her husband.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so so so very sorry. I can’t... please, I can’t stop.” Charles. His words are in her head and in the air. Charles is everywhere.

She was walking down the sidewalk in winter. A car skid in the snow, crashed, wrapped itself around a streetlight. A father was in the front seat, a mother in the passenger’s, and a child in the back. The child got the brunt of the damage, she dying. The woman was alive, muttering something. A prayer. Amelia was hugging the child into her lap. She felt like someone was repeatedly beating her with a hot frying pan, cooking her flesh as it came into contact and shattering her bones, and through the torture she smiled, because if it hurt it meant the child was alive.

She is being shaken. Someone is screaming in pain. She is screaming in pain. The high-pitched howl chokes up as she realizes it is her own throat that is screeching. She’s kneeling on the floor. Logan holds her shoulders. He’s saying something.

“It’s okay. It’s over. It’s okay.” She leans into him and wraps her arms around him, trying to forget how the smell of his leather jacket reminds her of the dark closet at home.

“I’m sorry...” Charles is sitting on the floor, crying. She is crying.

“What was that?” Peter asks, eyes fixed on her.

“I”m so sorry, Amelia. I-” Charles’s voice breaks. He looks to Hank and ushers him to bring something over.

“The professor got into Amy’s head.” Logan growls out, still holding Amy. She is latched onto him like wet kitten, scared and desperate, expecting an attack from all sides.

Hank hands Charles a syringe filled with yellow liquid. “His powers are unreliable recently. They can be quite dangerous,” Hank defends his mentor and friend.

Charles tugs up his sleeve and places the needle at his vein.

“Charles, wait!” Logan commands. “We need to find Raven. You’re the only one who can do that. But only if you have your powers.”

Charles laughs dryly. “Did you not see what I just did to Amy? You think I can use Cerebro in this state?” he shouts, but he brings the needle away from his arm.

“We need to try,” Logan says, standing up and bringing Amy with him. She is shaking, and she still hasn’t stopped crying.

Charles glances between Logan, Peter, Hank, and Amy. His gaze lingers on her, on her red eyes and runny nose, the way she her body shudders as she takes deep breaths. “There’s no way. I can’t do it. We failed. That’s it. It’s over!”

“Peter, take her to the kitchen, please.” Logan turned to the silver kid. Peter holds her up and guides her away, walking slowly for once.

“Wait,” Amy mutters as she grabs a fistful of Peter’s silver jacket and turns to look at Charles. She feels like she’s just woken up from a nightmare and she can’t quite trust her senses yet because the dream hasn’t fully left her.

Charles looks down at his feet, useless before him. Though, not more useless than the rest of him, he thinks.

“If you’re going to do it, don’t do it for my sake.” she whispers to her own feet which barely hold her up as she leans on Peter. She wipes away her tears and sniffles in an attempt to compose herself. Her next words come out bitter. “Don’t use me as your excuse.”

“Amy, I never-” Charles tries halfheartedly to explain himself.

“If you’re going to claim you lost control, save it. You know I’ve heard that before. It’s time you gained control, don’t you think? Professor?” The way she says Professor is accusing, almost mocking. She keeps her head down as she turns again, letting Peter lead her away. Then, just at the doorway, unsure if he can still hear her, she says “I’ve met enough addicts in my life to recognize one when I see one.”

Part 5 - Part 7 (WIP)

#abuse #abusive parents #Logan #Charles Xavier #Hank Mccoy #Logan Howlett #Wolverine #Professor X #the beast #peter maximoff x oc #Peter maximoff series #Quick Silver #Quicksilver x oc #quicksilver series

[itsjawren]

Chapter 14: Home for the Holidays

               Talia lay in her bed and listened as the house woke up, it was a rarity that she got to do this, but as it was the holidays and even warring packs let bygones be bygones unless a very grievous offence was had. So yes Talia was able to lie in bed with her husband and listen to her pack hustle about to and fro, noting that Dean must have arrived sometime in the night, because only he would start preparing Breakfast for everyone, this also means he once again stole his father’s car as his own, Talia’s wolf really only could ignore the Impala, even as loud as it was. But alas, even having a bit of a lie in had to end, especially when Cora and Derek yelling yay pancakes would wake even the dead. It only got louder when they ran and tackled Dean asking him about his time away from the pack.

               “I suppose we have to go save our human pack mate?” Talia turned to face Erik.

               “Let Peter do it, Dean’s cooking breakfast for him Peter will kill you if it meant he will get to eat Deans cooking.” Erik kissed her as she laughed “we have the morning off.”

               “We may not have to look after the pack, but we do have to go gift shopping”

               “Still? I thought we got it all done.” Erik whined.

               “That was before we got a call from Val saying she was coming home for the holidays with Nikodem, and I think we should get Dean something else. Something personal.”

               “That will only make him feel awkward, and he will say we spoil him enough.” Erik sighed as he saw his wife’s eyes rim red “though I do agree we should get him something else. Hunter tools are fine but your right it’s not personal.”

               “Okay it’s settled we let Dean Take care of our pups and we get him another present, and figure out what to get a couple who we haven’t seen in a few years.” Talia gives another kiss to Erik before getting dressed for the day.  By the time Talia and Erik made it down the stairs breakfast has been served and the pack was happily eating except Dean who hopped up as soon as he heard them on the stairs to plate their breakfast so it’s hot. “Good morning Dean, when did you arrive?”

               “Umm around 3:30” not technically a lie because he did arrive in California state around that time. Dean continued to cook the meal

               “More like 5” Peter mumbled, and Dean almost burnt his hand on the frying pan when he tried to glare at Peter.

               “And where did you come from?” Talia continued interrogating the hunter who has surprisingly learned a trick to lie to the werewolves over the years, though not very well thankfully for the pack.

               “uhh. Utah?” he drove through Utah.

               “I thought you were in Colorado?” Derek asks. Dean started to look a little shifty now and didn’t look up from his cooking.

               “And have you slept at all or have you just driven 17 hours straight?”

               “I caught a couple of hours, here and there during that drive.” Dean plated the eggs and pulled out the bacon and pancakes from the oven.

               Talia had a feeling it was exactly a couple hours here and there but her human was ever so stubborn “Oh Dean you need to sleep hunny, it’s not healthy.” Talia accepted both plates from him and handed them to Erik.

               “I will sort it out here, I always do and I am staying until after the New Year. So that’s like three weeks of me.” Dean grinned as Talia scented him and gave him a hug. “it’s just I feel like I am at war constantly and all the little beasties are making a huff right now and I don’t know why, I think it has something to do with yellow eyes.” Dean confessed, at the mention of Yellow eyes it all made sense, he was looking after his other brother, Talia tightened her hug just a bit. “But I turned off my hunting phone, and am here 100%” Dean thought for a second as he let go of Talia “well maybe 75% little star needs my attention too.”

               The pack finished breakfast in an hour with Dean serving food periodically and regaling the pack with his hunting stories, Talia and Erik left with the order of “Peter’s in charge and Dean look after them for me will you” when she got nod’s from them she left towards town.

               This close to Christmas it was surprisingly not bad, Talia even found a parking spot fairly quickly at the mall. Finding the right gift for Dean was tough, when she phoned Peter to ask what he thought, he listed off the gifts he and Derek already got him, which was a military jacket ordered online, and a bracelet that Derek found at an actual occult shop. Talia knew that the pack just attached their names to the gifts that she herself bought for the hunter so went in search of a more personal gift for Dean, while Erik poked around for his niece.

               It took a few hours to find the gifts, for Dean, Talia went with a very simple Silver ring, with the inscription on the inside being a triskele with the hopes that is will become a betrothal ring sometime in the future. Erik settled on getting the couple books, on their interests with the decision to take them shopping in the new year before they left.

               When they returned they sat in the warm car and listened to their house, it seemed Stiles had been kidnapped, as his and cora’s giggle sounded out. Laura seemed the victim of their prank, she probably tried to get Cora, “presentable” again. This was confirmed by Derek’s voice piping up to settle Laura’s rage, “Laura, you know Cor absolutely will not put that ruffley skirt on until actual official pictures are taken, and she doesn’t need to, she is going to be running around with Little Star anyhow.” “It’s Stiles, remember, Der” Stiles absently corrects “of course sorry Stiles, anyway leave them be…” the house seemed too quiet for an odd amount of time, probably a glaring match, before Derek spoke again “Dean said he was baking so you need to wash up Stiles, and Dean will braid your hair Cora so it’s out of the way, for when you help him.” The children’s hollers of excitement almost drown out Laura’s groan “I was going to fix her hair, why does she let Dean do it?” “Because Dean just braids her hair, and doesn’t add glitter or beads.”

               “He will be a good Alpha one day,” Erik comments quietly as he listens to his children.

               “Laura will be too, when she calms down, we will train both of them, I have a feeling all of them will need all the training a pack could give.” Talia says proudly. “But he is perfect as Peter’s second already, their manners even each other out.”

               “Oh how our pack has grown and settled, enough that the next generation is already filling positions for when the time comes,” Erik says Grabbing Talia’s hand.

               “That time won’t be here for a long time, my love.” Talia just breathes in the moment and Squeezes Erik’s hand. Talia enjoyed the peace that she and her once small pack of three fought and killed for. Her children will never know an abusive father, and a weak Alpha. They will grow up strong, and intelligent, as well as loved.

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#100 prompts #christmas #fanfiction #SPN #supernatural #Superwolf #teen wolf #part 7 #095. #chapter14 #talia hale #hale pack #laura hale #Peter Hale #cora hale #stiles stilinski #derek hale