#the shoulder sitting drawing isn't their actual sizes but it's close i think even if they don't transform they oughta be roughly guitar size

[hardly-artsy]

hhhggh idk. i like the idea of them being small demons but i feel like 1a is the easiest since they work the same except i don’t have to draw robots. feedback is appreciated. au by @blitzy-blitzwing​

#hazformers #this is the most content i've ever made of anything that isn't my ocs i think #still somewhat original designs though #laserbeak doesn't get hands because i want them to still have the right amount of limbs and didn't want to put hands on bird wings #the shoulder sitting drawing isn't their actual sizes but it's close i think even if they don't transform they oughta be roughly guitar size #when folded to the shape of a guitar anyway

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, clashing personalities, exclusion, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: moody boy Curtis Everett x bubbly, plus-size reader

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

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

Another Monday. Is this what life is? Mourning the weekend as you try to wipe the sleep from your eyes. It's too much, you should be cuddling squishes and snoring.

You hop off the bus and head towards the building. Once you're at your desk, you can pretend you're awake. If you get the right angle, you can just doze off a bit. Just a couple minutes more.

The elevator nearly knocks you with its slow rise. You shuffle between cubicles but before you can claim your chair, you find something unexpected. A cushion. A pink and white ergonomic cushion with a matching pad clung around the back rest. Um, this isn't your chair.

You look around confused. Someone will be real mad when they realise they lost their fancy chair. People do seem territorial around here. You turn the chair as you search for its owner.

“Did I get the colour right?” A grizzly voice has you leaping in place. You face Curtis as he rests his hand on the side of your cubicle, “they had purple too.”

“You?” You gasp.

“I…” he shrugs and his eyes wander to the ceiling, “I'm tryna make it up to you. I was and asshole so–”

“Nope, nuh uh,” you turn and tear open the velcro, detaching the back pad, “keep ‘em. I don't want your charity.”

“It's not–” he steps forward, “it's an apology.”

“Apology? For stealing? Well, I can't forgive a liar.”

You shove the pad against his chest, “I think I was clear. You should be happy I was because I have a terrible habit of rambling. My mom says I could talk the dead to life.”

He reluctantly clasps onto the pad as he scowls. You grab the seat cushion and press it against the other one. He reluctantly hooks his other arm under it.

“I was gonna give it back,” he grumbles.

“So why'd you take it?” You challenge.

“I don't know,” he mutters.

“I do. You're a bully. I left those behind in school,” you put your hands on your hips, “so go away and keep your hands off my things!”

His nostrils flare as his eyes meet yours. They're the shade of blue that makes you think of storms and the ocean and butterfly wings. He'd be cute if he wasn't so mean.

“You shouldn't talk to me like that,” he warns as he squeezes the cushions.

“Take your own advice, meanie! You had your chance.”

“I've been nice,” he rasps as he looks you up and down.

You're unsettled by how the glint in his eyes changes, how his shoulders square and his jaw ticks. He meets your gaze and narrows his eyes.

“You don't know what mean is.”

You flinch as he spins on his heel. He marches past you, a gust of air tickling your cheeks as he flees. You turn and watch him go, your stomach knotting.

Maybe you were a bit rude, even pushy, but you're trying to be better about drawing lines. You don't have to be a doormat to be nice. Even if it is easier.

You put your bag on your desk and sit, squeaking at the harsh impact of your ass on the thin seat. Gosh, there may as well not be any padding. You sniff and swivel close to the desk, booting the computer as you wait and think.

He's mad but he'll get over it. He made it clear he has no interest in you before so why this sudden change. Oh well, you never really understood men or their brains.

🩷

You stare at your pen cup and frown. You miss your happy penguin pen buddy. As you ponder his absence, that suspicion nips at your ears. Maybe he took those too.

Does it matter? You're moving on. You ordered new pens on Amazon. You're starting over new!

You get up to get a fresh coffee. You really should cut back. Maybe you could do some hot chocolate but you get a bit silly when you have too much sugar.

You enter the break room and immediately want to storm out. He's there, glaring at the machine as he watches it brew. You smell the dark roast you bought him. How could you have ever been so nice to someone like him?

Curtis takes his mug and you sidle along the wall, certain to get well out of his way. He turns and stops as he sees you. You stare at the ceiling as you wait for him to go.

He snarls but makes no move to leave. You bounce on your heels with your mug in hand. You can wait.

He's not going. So you go to the machine and peruse the selection. Maple shortbread, huh, that's a curious choice.

You sense him lingering. You do your best to ignore him, the scuff of his shoes putting you on edge. You're not the best at reading people, obviously, but you can feel his anger.

As he looms closer, you take a step forward. You spin and throw an arm up as if blocking an unseen strike. Your hand flips Curtis’ mug, spilling the brown liquid down his grey shirt. He backs up and looks down at the mess.

“Why would you do that?”

“Personal space,” you wave your arm up and down, drawing the invisible wall before you.

“I'm trying to… you're crazy, you know that?”

“So what does that make you?” You pout, “I told you to leave me alone.”

He puffs, lip curling as he grips his mug tight. He scoffs and whips it past you so it smashes against the wall and the bits litter over the counter. You let out a squeal as he stomps out, leaving you in shock, standing before a puddle of coffee.

You gulp and face the remnants of his mug. You should clean that up before anyone cuts themselves. You cross to the counter and set to carefully plucking up the shards.

“What happened in here?” Melanie asks as she enters, “oh it's you.”

You ignore her as you focus on the glass. Of course she assumes it was you. Seems like everyone thinks you're a disaster.

#curtis everett #dark curtis everett #dark!curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #sunshine lollipops and rainbows #series #drabble #au #snowpiercer

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (10)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon; Aegon Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: Red blood, white snow

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Aemond confesses Luke's fate. Aegon is a sneaky bastard. Sexual assault.

Tag List: @callsignwidow

"Be careful, my darling!" Laenor, your father, calls out in worry as you dash ahead of him. "Dragons can be dangerous."

"Not Vermithor! He isn't mean, he's just lonely and sad because no one understands him." You cross your arms and whirl around to face Laenor who simply sighs in the face of your five year old stubbornness.

"You look like your Aunt Laena when you do that."

"That's what grandfather says."

Laenor scoops you up in his arms and carries you the rest of the way to Vermithor's favorite resting spot: a large valley on the south side of the island. It's the perfect resting spot for him really. The size is perfect for the grumpy old dragon to rest his wings when he grows tired of the sky or his volcano.

That's where you happened upon him the first time. He was toying with some poor sheep before devouring it whole, and you could only stand and watch in awe. When he turned his massive head to meet your eyes upon hearing your shocked gasp you knew right away Vermithor was yours.

Your parents tried to argue with you, of course. They told you he was too old and you too inexperienced.

"Papa?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think Vermithor and Vhagar are friends? Mother says they're close in age."

Laenor chuckles at your question and says, "perhaps. Would you like them to be friends?"

You think for a minute, tapping your finger against your chin. "Yes, actually. I think they'd be very good friends. Maybe they'll even fall in love one day?"

"Maybe, my darling." Laenor puts you down as the two of you reach the top of the valley and kneels before you. You can see Vermithor just below watching you with an unspoken joy. "But for now I'm afraid you must wake up."

You frown. This isn't how the memory goes. "What?"

"Wake up, Aemma." Laenor's voice shifts and fear grips your heart.

"Papa?"

"Aemma, wake up!"

You bolt straight up in bed, pushing away the hands gripping your shoulders. Your heart thuds in your chest and your skin feels sticky from sweating in the warm summer air circulating your bedroom. Tears continue rolling down your cheeks. Aemond looks down at you with concern. You've been doing nothing but sleeping and crying since the coronation, and he isn't sure how to help you.

"Oh," you finally manage to say. "You've returned. How was Lord Baratheon."

"As stubborn as you'd expect." Aemond sits beside you, taking your hand in his. "I saw Lucerys at Storm's End."

You visibly perk up, desperate to hear anything about your family. "How is he?"

There are few people in Aemond's life that can read his expressions and read them truly. His mother, Helaena, and you. He knows he can't lie to you about what happened, but what else can he possibly say? Not a soul yet knows what happened between him and Lucerys because he couldn't have word of it getting back to you before he could tell you himself.

"Aemond?"

He flinches at the feeling of your hand caressing his cheek. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve you. You're too kind, too beautiful, too utterly pure for this world. He knows there isn't a possibility of forgiveness, but he can't live without you.

So Aemond takes a steadying breath and says, "there was an incident."

"What do you mean?"

"We departed Storm's End at the same time, but our dragons seemed to be under the impression it was a chase. Arrax attacked first and Vhagar followed suit. I tried to stop it, but neither dragon would listen."

You blink, drawing your hand away from Aemond's face. "Aemond, what are you trying to tell me?"

"Lucerys and Arrax perished. I never meant for things to get out of hand-"

The blood leaves your face and you're left with an icy, lightheaded feeling. "It doesn't fucking matter what you meant! My brother is dead!"

"He wasn't supposed to die!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, did you try telling him that?" The venom in your voice is almost tangible and you hope it's enough to burn Aemond. "Get out."

"Aemma-"

"I said get out!"

Rather than fight you, Aemond retreats slowly. "I'll leave you to mourn in peace, wife."

Just as you hoped your words burnt Aemond, his burn you in return. "Don't call me that."

"You are my wife. I understand you're hurt, but that won't change the truth."

You choke back a sob, saying, "please, Aemond. Just go."

"As you wish. I'll return after I've met with the council."

You want to tell him not to bother, but the words won't come. Nothing comes except the irresistible beckoning of sleep. That's what you'll do. You'll go back to sleep and maybe this time Luke will be there along with your father.

But sleep won't come despite the heaviness of your eyelids.

You toss back and forth miserably for what could be minutes or hours, you don't know.

In the distance you can faintly hear the door open and close. Footsteps approach the bed, weight dips and shifts on the mattress, hands grab your waist and turn you over, you bury your face in his chest and breathe in the familiar scent of Aegon.

"I sent Aemond to keep an eye on the City Watch as they train," Aegon explains as he strokes your hair.

You say nothing in return. You aren't stupid. You aren't naive. You understand exactly why Aegon keeps sending Aemond on all these various errands and it makes your blood boil. He still sees you as a toy to fight over, to win. Even in the shadow of your brother's death all Aegon cares about is using your body.

As if in silent agreement with your thoughts, Aegon's hand slips beneath the thin cotton of your nightgown to cup your sex. His lips, once soft and inviting, feel harsh against your neck now. You wriggle against him, trying your best to force him off of you.

"I want you to leave," you tell him. "Get out of my chambers and bring Aemond back."

"You can't mean that, sweet girl." Aegon grinds his hard cock into your ass, nipping at your earlobe.

"I do."

Before you can fight him further, Aegon flips you over so you're pinned beneath him, his eyes burning with rage. He grabs your wrists and holds them above your head. You can feel the heat of his body through your gown and you hate yourself for the way it ignites a fire in your belly. Aegon is the reason for your current torment and yet you still find yourself craving him in some way.

"You don't mean that," he repeats. "Never say that again. Not you."

Aegon hates the blank look in your eyes. It's frightening, something he's never witnessed before. You've always loved him the most. Always.

"Tell me you don't mean it. Tell me!"

"I'll thank you to get off my wife, brother." Aemond's hand grips Aegon's collar firmly, leaving no option for Aegon except to listen.

You slowly sit up as Aegon's weight leaves you. The brothers glare at one another. You're unimpressed by their pissing match.

"I would like to write to my mother," you announce. "No, I will write to my mother."

"You can't," Aegon says without looking away from Aemond. "You'll have no contact with your traitor mother."

"What could I possibly tell her that would be so damning? I know nothing of your plans, all of you have made sure of that. Let me mourn with my family."

Both men are silent and you know the answer before Aegon says it.

"No."

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you

[casketjones]

I'm not sure how to info dump for a bunch of character concepts in a way that's digestible but eh whatever

Concept work for a group of mafia hitwomen and their long suffering handler. They're likely going to be used in a underground illegal wrestling ring arc because that's all I really want in my media.

This post plus additional sketches and more background info will be going up on my patreon and kofi tomorrow.

more under the cut,

They're all vampires that I really cooked up to test a concept for vamps for my comic project. Based on a blood sucking animal and a historical anti-vampire burial method, some of the burial methods are gonna be pushed and fibbed because there's not that many of them. so yeah incidental vampires will have a cage motif even tho I know good and well that cages were to prevent resurrection men getting in not vampires getting out. I feel that's thematically close enough. There's so many really good sanguivore animals out there these are maybe too safe even.

The other thing I really wanted to accomplish with these designs is targeting lesbians, hey ladies these are for you. How am I doing?

going left to right here we got

Flea- She's a Flea I tried taking a lot from Blake's Ghost of a Flea but I don't think it comes through. Her grave-shackle is that scythe coming out her shoulder, it's maybe a bit of a stretch, the real thing was buried in the ground next to the corpse so if it rose it would decapitate itself but I didn't really want to complicate the design with a bunch of dirt or something. Regardless I like her design a lot. Short hairy goblin of a woman, someone stop me from naming her Puce.

Mosquito- Her hair took a little bit to sort out, it used to be real bad but this mess is perfect. Horrible 90's stylized part call back, reminiscent of boxer braids while being ostentatious enough to work in any setting. That cool bangle is her grave-shackle, an actual shackle this time. Her build was immediate, huge arms, weird long butt, perfection. She's the easiest to dress which isn't that surprising considering shes thinner but usually big arms are really difficult in women's wear. Flea is actually the second easiest to dress. There's gotta be a better name than Malaria, but i could call her Mal.

Geo(?)- small mafia man, constantly put upon, constantly behind the 8-ball with upper management; you know the type. The other guys definitely tell him he's lucky all the time but they'd never switch assignments with him. Why is he so small? because I can do whatever i want. His name might be Geoffrey.

Lamprey- Went through the most iterations, was very hard to piece together a woman this disaster lesbian. The spike through the heart, traditionally meant to keep the alleged vampire pinned to the ground was always part of the design, so was the long neck and heart lipstick, the hook earring came and went. Everything else was difficult; general build was pretty similar but i didn't actually work until I gave her a gut and dropped her waist. I used to have gill markings on her neck that looked like vampire bite marks and that took a while to give up but that hair is too good. She probably will end up being named Nakkila, it's a Finnish town with lamprey on their crest.

Leech- Took just two stabs to get her hair, body and face where I wanted it. Those bright red eyebrows work so well to subtly mimic leech markings, her hair shapes are perfect and I love drawing them. It's hard to tell at this size but her lips are sewn together which works almost too well for the theming, the cartoon jack'o lantern shape just sits right on a leech. Being built like a brick shithouse with fantastic fat rolls really gives the body diversity in the group the punch it needs. But dear god in heaven she is so hard to dress! I'm liking this dress a moderate amount right now and I really love the shoes but it's not perfect. I've tried suits instead, I've down active wear, all crazy difficult. It's like fashion doesn't want to accentuate horizontal stripes on large bodies or something? I gotta keep trying on it. I've almost convinced myself to name her Annelid.

#ocs #artists on tumblr #vampires #chicken legs #character design #character concept #vampire #vampire concepts #character art #character illustration #creative process #leech #flea #mosquito #lamprey #mafia #underground women's wrestling

[ievaxol]

wolcred + 44 ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

send me a prompt!

44. sitting on the other’s lap

"Come," is what Thancred had said, patting his knees and looking entirely too earnest for a man who by the looks of it is teetering on the edge of too much drink. "Surely you don't mind?"

It had been the logical choice — with not enough chairs to go around and a staunch policy on Seike's end to never squeeze herself into a space she can't leave easily, perching on Thancred's lap had sounded like a good idea. It helped that she was familiar with the tavern and knew they wouldn't be bothered, an old family owned business as well as a familiar haunt for Vylbrandians.

Even if she didn't know all the staff she knew of most of them and while the atmosphere was rowdy, it was rowdy in a way that made it clear that no trouble would be welcomed. It was why they had chosen this place after all.

Here Seike and Thancred simply blended in with the rest of the crowd. The large bartender might be the only one who had a clue as to who they actually are; he kept their table stocked with drinks and snacks without saying a word, the only communication between him and Seike a stoic nod.

They were supposed to meet an informant but as time passed it got clear that they either spooked or got held up somewhere and wouldn't be coming around tonight — Seike was just about to tell Thancred they ought to leave when a bard appeared on the cramped stage to raucous cheers and applause.

Surely, staying for one song couldn't hurt.

She should have known better.

One song turns to two, turns to three until she's melted back against Thancred's broad chest, warm and content. The music is better than one can expect from an establishment like this and the anonymity is a breath of fresh air, adding to her reluctance to leave.

Not to mention Thancred.

Thancred who's drunkenly humming along low enough that only she can hear with his hands splayed over her thighs, drawing maddening little circles along the inner seam of her trousers. She's straddling his legs, flush against him — it's terrible.

Awful.

Maddening.

The shiver starts at the bottom of her body and travels up until she feels it prickling along her hairline, a languid lick of desire at her spine. It feels like she's afflicted with the heavy spell and Thancred is her current source of gravity.

"The bard isn't half-bad," Thancred murmurs, fingers tracing round and round and round. "Reckon he'll make a decent amount of coin tonight."

"Jealous?" She asks it only so she can feel the rumble of his laughter reverberate in her body, lolling her head back so Thancred can speak directly into her ear and she can feel his hot breath wash over her neck. Twelve and fuck above, he's doing things to her that she isn't entirely sure he's aware of.

No one's watching them, she tells herself. No one cares about the Hyur couple shoved onto a too-small couch by the kitchen exit, hidden by tankards and bottles.

"Are you telling me to get up on stage and leave you all alone here?"

Scratch that — he definitely knows.

"Hm. I don't want to lose the best seat in the house."

Again he laughs, suryp-sweet and golden, and she closes her eyes, imagines it rattling around in her ribcage.

"Is that so?"

Seike shifts her weight. He's so broad. Despite their size difference when standing up he makes her feel small like this, every inch of him a reminder of the strength he's fought to obtain. His thighs especially — they're thick and muscled, a plush pillow for her to sit on.

It's impossible to ignore the way she's splayed open over them, especially when he taps a foot to the beat of the music and the motion pushes his leg up and in between hers. It's a small motion but quite enough to drive her mad, to continually reset the state where she thinks she's gotten used to being in his lap like this.

"Thancred."

"Hm?"

"You only paid for one room, right?"

She doesn't need to see him to know that he's grinning as he presses a kiss between her shoulder blades.

#( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) INDEED #wolcred #seike #YOU KNEW ID GO ASGHJAGJHAHJGDHJ OVER THIS YESSSSSSSSSS #ask #aerogadyne #mine writing #through gritted teeth: your honor im normal abt thancreds thighs

[colorsunimaginable]

the spare // chapter fifty-one // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary: 

While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 4.2k warnings for this chapter: angst? I think it's angst, alcohol, depression

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Fifty-One:

The cottage is in quite the state after whoever'd come in here and trashed the place. I'd practically begged Thomus not to use magic to reverse the mess. October 13th is just around the corner, so I'm going to be grateful for anything that keeps me busy.

The only room Thomus doesn't oblige me with is the office.

"I'm not going to wait for you to reorganize everything when I can just -" He waves his wand towards the heaping piles of books crowding the office floor. The mess reverses itself, the organization I'd put hours of effort into previously resumes, everything sliding back into place.

He walks behind the desk, sliding a briefcase onto it. Another flick of his wand and Mary's miscellaneous desk things are replaced with Thomus' as they come flying out of the briefcase.

I make a face. "You're going to be working here?"

His eyes flicker up to me, his expression impassive. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No," I say slowly, drawing out the 'n'. My eyes jerk around the room, avoiding eye contact. "Um, will it bother you if I play music while I clean?"

"I'll just use the Imperturbable charm." He closes the suitcase and places it beside the desk before sitting down. The cheap plastic office chair squeaks under his weight and he jumps up immediately, pushing it away. "Blasted thing. Was there anything else?"

"Um -"

"Because I have rather a lot of work to do."

I blink. Oh, I'm being dismissed. "Right."

I close the door when I leave. This is going to take some getting used to.

~*~

I'm going one room at a time, just like when I first got here. My room is first. Strip the bed, throw everything into the wash, vacuum behind and under furniture, and dust, making sure to nab cobwebs from the corners of the ceiling.

Of course, I'm done with all of that before the bedding is even finished in the wash.

The real work is organizing the wardrobe. Since Thomus is here, there's no quitting once the bed's got a mountain on it, and so it actually gets organized. I even pick out the dress I'm going to wear next time we go to Edinburgh.

Then of course the bathroom. There isn't going to be a single surface left untouched by the time I'm through with it. It's still too early to try to get over Thomus' suppression potion, so I don't have my Occlumency. Luckily for me, the next best thing is a thousand one square inch tiles and the record player.

I'm so zoned out that when Thomus knocks on my bathroom door, I realize the Disney classic vinyl had stopped playing long ago.

"Are you decent?" he asks.

I blink and look down at myself. My t-shirt is damp and my fingers are red. It feels good to close my eyes.

"Watch your step, it's still wet," I say as he opens the door.

He leans against the door frame, his gaze taking in the room. He has a plate in his hands, but from this angle I can't see what's on it.

Finally, he looks at me. "A lot on your mind?"

"What makes you say that?"

He shrugs one shoulder. "You've been at this all day."

"What?" My eyes shoot to the window. It's dark out. "It's only been a couple hours."

His eyebrows come together. "You started this morning."

I sigh. "Guess that means I should stop for the night."

"Come on," he says, taking a step back. "I, um, I made you a sandwich."

When I get to my feet, my knees are stiff and I'm a little light headed. "Oh."

I focus on stepping over the wet floor with my socks still on – ew – and immediately pull them off when I'm on the carpet of my room. As soon as I straighten, his hand clamps down on my shoulder and his face gets close, his eyes zeroed in on mine.  He tries to use Legillimency to push into my head.

I quickly close my eyes and shake off his hold, backing away. "Bro, what the fuck?!"

He straightens. "Those who're new to Occlumency will often space out for hours at a time –“

"New!?" I snap. “I –“

“It would mean you have your magic… already.”

His words make me freeze, my mouth still open from trying to speak. His gaze is unwavering, both of us still in the quiet of my bedroom.

“Is that a statement or a question?” I ask.

Thomus doesn’t answer me, but to fill the silence, my stomach gurgles painfully. His lips press together into a thin line and he holds out the plate. I take it, scooping up a sliced half of the sandwich into my hand. The bite I take is embarrassingly enormous, and I turn away, aimlessly pacing. The elves must’ve sent a roasted chicken, because it’s that with some mayo and cheddar cheese.

“Thanks,” I mumble once I’ve swallowed. It feels weird for him to have made me something, and that he’d even paid enough attention to consider if I’ve eaten.

“Goodnight,” he says softly, and leaves.

~*~

Eventually, the bathroom gets finished, as does the kitchen and the living room. I spread it out enough so it takes me a week. Thomus’ room is next on my list, but since he’s been here, the politeness in me finds me knocking on the office door in search of permission.

“Come in,” I hear. I push the door open, but stay at the threshold, leaning against the frame.

He has his glasses on and is scribbling away at a roll of parchment. His hair’s a mess, like he’s been running his fingers through it. I find myself staring at him because he’s just – ugh. He’s so fucking handsome.

When I don’t say anything, he pauses and looks up, “Yes?”

I quickly avert my gaze, folding my arms over my middle. “Um, I was wondering if it’d be okay for me to clean your room. Vacuum, change the sheets, dust – you know, the whole shebang.”

“Fine,” he replies instantly, attention returning to the work before him.

Hm, that was easier than I thought. I’d been mentally prepared for a whole argument. So I don’t leave immediately, watching him. I gasp when I notice something on his desk.

“Is that a typewriter?” I ask excitedly and take a few steps into the room.

He glances at it. “Um, yes.”

I get closer. “And it works?”

He gives me an irritated look. “Of course.”

It looks old, but well taken care of. Black, no scuff marks, still shiny. With the exception of the space bar, the keys are circles. He has a sheet of paper rolled in it already, but it’s blank. “Is it an enchanted one? That’s all that Skeeter used. Kinda like her Quill, but legible.”

“No,” he replies, definitely annoyed now. It’s kinda fun to annoy him, and I’m biting my lip to keep from smiling.

The typewriter is facing him on his right side, sitting on a part of the desk that pulls out, a spot I’d assume that’s specifically for a typewriter. There’s not much space between his elbow and the keys.

I pause to lazily scan the book shelves and hear his quill continue scratching onto the paper. Slowly, with half an eye on him, I meander my way around the desk. Thomus isn’t oblivious to this, his eyes flicker to me as his writing picks up speed. He quickly finishes his thought and lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Can I help you?” He pulls off his glasses and stares up at me.

“Can I, um –“ my eyes jump from him to the typewriter “ – try it?”

He sighs again. “I suppose, but –“

I don’t wait for him to finish and shove my hip against the corner of his chair. He’s replaced Mary’s plastic one, now it’s a wooden cushioned thing. I bend around his shoulder and arm, popping my knuckles before hovering my fingers over the keys. My eyes scan the keyboard, noting all the differences than from what I’m used to. I could type eighty words per minute on my laptop, but I’m sure this is much slower.

I start typing out the first thing I could think of, my favorite poem. The typebars slap against the black ribbon, leaving behind the classic lettering every time I hit space.

I get to the end of the line and pause, fingers hovering. There’s no return button. Before I can figure it out, Thomus’ hand reaches out from my left, pulling a bar that brings the page back to the start. His hand retreats back behind me and I assume I’m good to type out the next line. When I get to the end of that one, I know what to do, and it gives me a thrill to hear the classic typewriter noises. I try not to pay attention to the words on the page, knowing I’d only focus on my mistakes.

When I’m done, I type out the name of the poem and the author.

“Funeral Blues?” Thomus says. I glance at him to see he’s turned his chair, facing the typewriter, leaning his elbow on the desk so he can watch me over my shoulder.

I shrug. “It’s my favorite.”

I look back at how I did, noticing immediately I spelt juicy with an ‘e’.

“That one?” he questions and I hear the disbelief in his voice.

“The last two verses really just… resonate with me, I guess,” I say, my eyes still on the page. “Give me lines that start talking about stars and I’m a sucker. Dream A Little Dream of Me has it, too. Stars shining bright above you – stars fading but I linger on, dear –“

“Still craving your kiss,” Thomus finishes. I straighten and take a step back, my eyebrows coming together. He’s looking at the page, but then at me. “Ella Fitzgerald.”

“Yeah,” I say slowly, kinda surprised that he knows it, but also happy that he does? “Well, I think her recording’s one of the more popular ones. I don’t think she wrote it. I like The Mama’s and the Papa’s version, too.”

“The what?”

“It’s a band,” I reply as I move away from his desk. “Want some lunch? Sandwich or something?” Ever since he made me one, I feel compelled to return the favor a million times over. Not like an ‘I owe you’ kind of way just… because I want to.

“Um, yes.” He looks distracted by something, so I turn to leave. “Wait.”

I turn in the door way to see him get up and walk to a box sitting next to one of the bookcases. When he brings it to me, I see it’s full of records.

“I’ve been meaning to let you use this, but I kept forgetting,” he says. I take it from him, balancing the box on my hip while leaning it against the doorframe so I have a free hand to look through it. There’s a real hodge podge of albums in here.

“Dirty Dancing, Katy Perry, Lorde, Bobby Gentry… oh fuck yeah.” I pull out an album by The Wrecks. “I didn’t know they were popular here.”

Thomus is still standing next to me, hands in his back pockets. “I, em, was more inclined towards those that were specifically marketed as American.”

“From every genre?” I ask, remembering how he’d pulled out the Twenty-One Pilots album.

“Yeah.”

The last time he’d gotten vinyl with me in mind, he’d just left them on my bed. I’m not sure how to react with him doing it in person. The nice part of me wants to think it’s sweet and god damn if my heart doesn’t pound a little faster in my chest. But I don’t know him well enough to assume it’s just a kind gesture.

I peek up at him. “Is there a catch?”

He shakes his head, looking at me. “Not at all.”

I can’t handle looking him in the eye this close, especially right now, when I’m feeling the opposite of angry. Shifting the box back into both of my hands, I step back into the hallway.

I give a polite smile that I hope reaches my eyes. “Thanks.”

~*~

October 13th is when Thomus finally leaves the house, which is good, because I want it all to myself. I’ve spent the last two weeks cleaning. Minus the few days I focused on overcoming Thomus’ suppression potion. I didn’t need the electricity spell for that one, it just wore off on it’s own.

Kyle’s third dose didn’t give me much trouble either. I’d had the idea to try to use the spell to light a lightbulb. I’d held the end in my hand and watched the insides glow. It was pretty cool.

Now it’s finally the day I’ve been dreading. The day that I’d lost her. The day I waited for her at Alonzo’s but she never showed.

I plan to spend the day doing the same things I did last year and the year before that. Drink and make brownies.

Last year I did the drinking part secretly, hiding in my corner of the tent with a flask. I’d slept the day away and made brownies. With the four of us, the ultra-fudgy brownies did not last long.

When I’d cleaned Thomus’ room, I’d snuck out a bottle of No-Maj coconut rum, prepping for today. The rum plus orange juice and I’m going to be a very happy camper.

~*~

Okay, I lied. I’m not a very happy camper right now.

I don’t know what my goddamn fucking problem is, but I just can’t get these goddamn brownies to fucking come out right. The fact that I don’t have a physical copy of the recipe with me is my first mistake and honestly should have stopped me in the first place. But do I listen to my gut feeling? Of fucking course not.

The first batch comes out like a fucking rock, and I wonder if I’d somehow manage to spontaneously recreate these rock cakes I’d had from a half giant named Hagrid. That’s who Harry said they were from anyway.

The second batch is practically swimming in oil. I only realize afterwards I’d grabbed margarine instead of actual butter. That plus the oil I’d lined the pan with makes the house smell like a mixture of canola oil and the bitter cocoa powder.

By the third batch, I’m on my fifth mixed drink, and if this one doesn’t come out right, I think I’m going to have a meltdown.

Thomus had given me another suppression potion this morning with breakfast because in his mind, it’s been two weeks. On a day like today, I’m powerless to my emotions.

The third batch is in the oven when Thomus returns. I’m cleaning up the kitchen from my mess for the third time, pausing every few minutes to move the record player needle to a song I actually like. The songs from Dirty Dancing aren’t terrible, but with the exception of Be My Baby, Stay, Hey Baby, and Love is Strange, I prefer them in the movie. Maybe it’s because of how drunk I am, but my patience for songs I don’t like is zero, even if I have to mess with the player a million times.

For the moment, the songs are placating my mood. I’m being an idiot, strutting around the island with the baking spatula acting as my microphone as Hey Baby plays. I close my eyes, picturing the scene with Baby and Patrick Swayze dancing on the log. My body mimics their dance, one foot in front of the other, wiggling around like I’m on the log with them. I bark out a laugh when I stumble and lose my balance, tipping sideways right into Thomus’ arms.

When I open my eyes and realize it’s him, I laugh even harder, but this time from embarrassment, my face hot. I don’t focus on his expression because I can’t trust myself to read it accurately.

“Hi!” I say loud enough for him to hear over the music. The song ends and I launch myself out of his arms when a song I don’t like comes on. The room is silent only briefly before Love is Strange starts to play. I turn the volume down only slightly. Before I turn back to him, I’m already moving to the beat.

“What’re you doing?” he asks, utterly bewildered.

“Party for one!” I reply, dancing around the island, away from where he stands. My mixed drink is iced with a little coffee straw swirling around in the glass. I grab it and take a long swing, finishing it off. “Want one?”

He leans on the island, expression laced with disbelief, but also… humor? “Sure.”

I grab another glass, fill it with ice, and grab the orange juice from the fridge. I’m heavy handed with the rum in mine, but make sure his is the better ratio. By the time I hand him the drink, the catchy guitar riff plays and I mimic the notes with some quality air guitar. My favorite part starts and I snatch the spatula off the counter.

“Sylvia? – Yes, Mickey – How do you call your lover boy?” I say the words right as the come out, making outright embarrassing faces at Thomus. The corner of his mouth is quirked up in a smile as he watches me. “Come here, lover boy!”

“And if he doesn’t answer?”

“Oh, lover boy!”

“And if he STILL doesn’t answer?”

“I simply say babbeyyy –“ I only sing Sylvia’s parts now, acting an absolute fool. My face is burning hot, but it’s too late to stop now. I saunter over to him, singing the words around him, but not getting close enough to touch.

Thank god the song ends so I can momentarily stop making a fool of myself. The next song starts and I rush to the record player again, this time stopping the vinyl completely. I can feel sweat dripping down the back of my neck and on my temple. I hold the drink up to my forehead and flap my hand in front of my face, trying to cool down. “It’s hot in here.”

Thomus strides to the back door, opening it enough for the cool fall air to glide in.

I wave The Wrecks album up. “Have you ever listened to these guys?” He simply shakes his head. “Well, let me tell ya, they are exactly my kind of music.” I set the record up, the first song I Don’t Like You plays. “Every single song on this album is a banger.”

“What’s a banger?” he asks, and I don’t realize he’s gotten closer. Not touchy close, but close enough that I’m hyperaware of it.

“You know, makes you wanna bang your head.” I back away, taking another swig of my new drink. “You’ll see.”

The song picks up and I get to demonstrate what I mean, and can’t help but laugh again. My heart races for a reason other than exertion when I hear his laugh, too.

He takes a seat at the table. “You muggles sure have weird customs.”

I resume my cleaning of the kitchen, tossing the spatula into the sink. “I don’t think acting like an idiot is exclusively a No-Maj thing. Wait, you lived in America for like a year, how do you not know what a banger is?”

He shrugs. “I’ve heard the term ‘gangbanger’, is that close?”

I nearly choke on my surprise. “What?! No!” I laugh again. “Actually that’s what you are. I’d say the Death Eaters count as a gang.”

Thomus has the audacity to look offended.

“What?” I ask. “You can’t say that I’m wrong.”

“I’d like for you to not say anything about it at all.”

“Oh, come on,” I tease, leaning against the counter. “Weren’t you recruited?”

“No,” he insists. “It was a… family affair.”

“Right, familial gang relations, classic. The family business.”

“Stop calling it that.”

I snicker and turn around, taking a long drink before diving my hands into the soapy dish water. “You only say that because you know I’m right.”

He doesn’t respond and I get lost in the alcohol and music, laser focusing on the dishes. I glance over my shoulder after a while and see that he’s left. Damn. I really know how to clear a room, don’t I?

A few moments later, my nose starts to pick up something stronger than the green apple dish soap I’m using. And then I shriek when I realize.

“Fuck!” I half scream, hastily drying my hands and grabbing an oven mitt.

I yank open the oven door, the smell of burnt chocolate immediately assaulting my senses. Lifting the pan out, I toss it onto the island, and slam the door closed with my foot. I pull the oven mitt off and stare at the charred black void.

A split second later, I burst into tears. I end up on the floor, hugging my thighs and sobbing.

“Alder?” Thomus calls, entering the kitchen. He spots me on the floor and kneels next to me. “Melisa, what happened?”

I try to stop blubbering enough to speak. “I burnt the brownies.”

He lets out a relieved chuckle. “Is that all?”

“Don’t laugh at me,” I sob, turning away. I feel a river of snot threatening to burst out of my nose.

“Darling, I’m not laughing at you,” he says, his hand reaches over and cups my cheek. He turns my face toward him, his thumb wiping away tears under the edge of my glasses.

I turn my face away again, using my t-shirt sleeve to dab at my nose. “That was my third try – I kept fucking them up. It’s impossible without the recipe.”

“There wasn’t one in any of the cookbooks?” he asks, surprised. “I could’ve sworn I saw a dessert one in the office.”

“They wouldn’t be the same,” I mumble. “They wouldn’t be her favorite.”

“Whose favorite?”

I take in a shuddering breath and finally look at him. “It’s October 13th,” I whisper. More tears flood down my cheeks. I can’t even say her name today.

Thomus’ eyes search my face for meaning behind my words and I can see when realization dawns. His face visibly pales and his eyebrows push upwards. Then he closes his eyes and pulls his hands away from me, his chest rising and falling with his telltale signs of masking. When he finally looks back at me, I know he understands.

“I’m sorry for making such a fuss,” I whisper. My face twists up again. “Today is just so hard.”

My eyes are wide as I stare at him, knowing that despite everything, I want him to hold me. Despite the role that he had in her death, in causing me such terrible heartache, I want him to comfort me. It’s so many different levels of fucked up.

I’ve never really been mad at him for it, but the fact always lingers in my mind. He didn’t know me, he didn’t know what Voldemort wanted her for, he was following orders. I’ve killed someone – right at the auction – and it’s amazing I haven’t received any blowback for it. Maybe that’s just how it is in war. Too many lives lost on either side to uphold classic tales of revenge.

I want Thomus in ways that terrify me. If she knew, if anyone knew the truth of how I feel, of how much I want him, she’d never forgive me.

Thomus pulls away and stands, striding to the table to turn off the suddenly misplaced music. When I get to my feet, more music plays, but this time it’s gentle, slow. The Dean Martin record.

The smooth baritone voice serenades the quiet room and Thomus turns to me, holding his hand out. With wide eyes, I place my trembling hand in his and he pulls me close. His arm encircles my waist, our chests touch. He leads me in circles, his expression unreadable, even though I’m blinking away my tears as fast as I can. He twirls me as the songs play, swaying back and forth in the small kitchen.

Innamorata, one of the few songs I can name from the album, plays and he nudges me even closer than before. My cheek presses into his shoulder and I can’t help but cry some more. This is the most romantic thing to ever happen to me and I’m a monster because a part of me so happy it’s happening. Thomus is holding me close like this, he’s dancing with me, he’s pressing kisses to my crown and temple.

I cry because I love it. I cry because he hates me, hates who I am. I cry because tomorrow I’ll have to pretend like this never happened.

And he will too.

Thank you for reading! It's officially been a year since I first started posting this fic! Reblogs, likes, and especially comments are deeply appreciated 💕

#tom hiddleston #writing #the auction #plus size reader #tom hiddleston x reader #harry potter fanfiction #voldemort wins au #slowburn #enemies to lovers #ilvermorny #the spare #dramione #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x plus size ofc #smut #lust potion #plus size oc #hurt/comfort #deatheater!tomhiddleston #tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fan fiction

[thedaredevilsgirl]

Chapter Two - Vibrating

Warning: Smut (vibrator use, fingering and dirty talk)

Word count: 1,817

I'm starting to think I'm terrible at writing smut, but I swear I'm trying to improve. I hope you like it

You and Tom have always been close, everyone knew that, but after the events of the last week it seemed that you were even closer. He was always waiting for you so you could go to campus together, walking you to your class and taking you to the library before you went back to the fraternity.

"Megan said she is waiting for me in front of the library and can take me home later, so you don't have to wait for me today." You say to Tom as they walked to the library.

"Are you sure honey?"

"Yeah, see you later" you turn to look at him.

"Can I come to your room tonight?" He asks with a mischievous smile on his face.

Every time he smiled like that it made you nervous, you nod your head positively and he steps closer tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear before bending down a little to be your size and whispering.

"I can't wait to touch you again angel," you feel your whole body shiver at those words.

Tom leaves a kiss on your forehead and goes in the opposite direction from you.

When you turn to enter the library you see Megan with her arms crossed in front of her body looking at you suspiciously, you approach her and she pulls you inside the library quickly making you sit on one of the tables and sitting in front of you.

"You're going to tell me everything that's going on right now," she commands.

"What are you talking about Megan? Nothing is going on" you try to cover it up.

"Y/N I'm not an idiot, why are you and Tom suddenly so close?"

"We've always been close" you answer as if it's obvious.

"Yes, because he is your brother's best friend, but now you are acting like a couple, like you are fucking...OH MY GOD YOU ARE FUCKING" some people who were inside look at the two of you angrily.

"Keep your voice down please, and no, we are not fucking...not yet at least."

"Oh my god, what do you mean not yet?" She asks agitated.

"I asked him to teach me how to fuck" you say softly and embarrassed "he said yes and maybe he gave me a oral earlier in the week" you admit all at once.

She puts her hands over her mouth to avoid screaming again, and you can see the excitement in her eyes.

"Finally you're doing something about your feelings," she says with a smile.

"I don't have feelings for him" "A seriously" she rolls her eyes" You have liked him since first grade and he likes you too, you just never did anything because your idiot brother would kill him"

"That's not true" he tries to defend himself and she just looks at him with disdain.

"You can literally feel the sexual tension between the two of you."

"Anyway, it's just sex Megan, nothing else is going to happen, I just need the experience." You say. She suddenly gets up from the table again drawing glances at both of you.

"Get up" she says quickly grabbing her things.

"What? Why? I thought we were going to study".

"No, we're going shopping".

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

When your friend Megan said you were going shopping, you thought she was talking about going to some clothing store, but that's not what happened.

"Why are we here?" You ask Megan as soon as she has you enter a sex shop getting a blush as you look at the things there.

"I just thought since you started your sex life you might want a few things" She says laughing.

"If I had known you were going to act this way I wouldn't have told you" you roll your eyes "can we please leave".

"No, come on Y/N, have some fun, I know this isn't really your thing, but I guarantee that once you try it you will like it, you just need to give it a chance" she speaks while looking for something specific in the store.

"Try what exactly?" "

Here" she takes something from one of the shelves before turning to you again "try this on" she puts the box in your hand.

"No, no way" you turn red as you hold the small box of bal vibrator in your hand.

"Y/N, think along with me, you tonight, going into Tom's room and saying you want him to use this on you" she points to the vibrator.

You can picture exactly the scene perfectly and it sounds wonderful.

"I'm sure you'll kill him with a hard-on just by suggesting it, and you'll still have a wonderful orgasm, so...will you try it?" She ask.

"Ok, fine" you give in.

"Great" she smiles "don't worry, I'll pay, thank me after Holland makes you cum".

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

You ran to your room as soon as you arrived at the fraternity, only to take the vibrator out of the box and clean it, You also changed your lingerie for one that you had just bought. You wanted to impress Tom a little tonight.

As soon as you get dressed again and hide the small vibrator in the pocket of your sweatshirt you finally make your way to Tom's room.

"May I come in?" You ask knocking on Tom's bedroom door.

"Hey" he says as he opens the door and gives you room to enter "I was just on my way to your room, I thought you'd be here early" he locks the door.

"Megan and I decided to do some shopping" you say smiling and sit down at the study table.

"Did you buy anything interesting?" You ask curious.

"Yeah, I mean we went to some cool stores, forever 21, Gap, Victoria Secrets and Megan took me to a sex shop" you say as if it wasn't something interesting and Tom looks at you surprised.

"Megan took you where? He asks, maybe he had heard you wrong.

"To a sex shop," you shrug.

"Why?" he asks walking over to you and standing between your legs.

"I wanted to see something" you say a little nervously taking the small vibrator from your pocket "actually I wanted to try something"

"What?" Just imagining you going to a sex shop made Tom horny.

"I want you to use this on me" she puts the dildo in his hand.

He sighs as he looks at the vibrator and soon after he is kissing you desperately, his hands grip your waist tightly pulling you closer to his body.

Your shirt is the first to be removed and he stops for a moment just to look at your body, trapping his lower lip between his lips when he sees the red lingerie on your body.

"Do you like it?" He asks running his fingers gently over the strap of the bra "I bought it with you in mind."

"I think it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." He helps you remove your skirt without you having to get off the table.

"Can you take your shirt off too, please?" He smiles and removing his shirt, his hand touches your abdomen the direction before pulling you in for another kiss.

His fingers touch the inside of her thigh trailing towards her intimacy, both fingers touch the delivery catching the wetness and he brings them to his mouth closing his eyes as he feels her taste again on his tongue. His breathing fails, you never thought you would see anything hotter than this.

"Are you sure you want to try this baby?" He asks to make sure it felt comfortable.

"Yes, please."

He finally takes the vibrator and turns it on at the lowest speed.

First he slides it down the length of your neck stopping the vibrations right at your pulse point, you close your eyes and feel him moving further down, from the top of your breasts to your nipples making them hard against the lacy fabric of your bra.

"Stop teasing me, please," you plead, and he just smiles.

The vibrations travel down your belly and you feel your breath hitch as he reaches for the bar of your panties, he looks at you for confirmation and you say yes.

The vibrator finally touches your clit and you feel like you might die, but the vibrations are turned off soon after. You look at Tom trying to understand why he had stopped.

"Don't worry honey, just getting it out of the way" he says pulling your panties off your body.

He turns the vibrator back on and puts it in contact with your clit, he moves it down into your folds teasing your wet entrance, sighing you throw your head back feeling the pleasure in your body. Tom leans only his body on yours and leaves wet kisses on your neck.

"Tom, please" you moan gripping the curly locks of your hair tightly

"I need more". He chuckles against her neck before bringing the vibrator again to her clit along with his thumb making a circular motion.

"Don't stop please" she pleads.

"You don't know how beautiful your moans are love" he whispers to you and lets a light bite on your earlobe increasing the speed of the vibrator.

"Fuck, Thomas, I'm going to..." You close your eyes tightly feeling a tasty sensation in the pit of your stomach indicating that you were about to cum.

"I got you angel, cum for me".

Your body obeys his command and you come with a loud scream of his name, he turns off the vibrator but continues with the finger movements until you come down from orgasm.

You hug him tiredly letting your head fall on his shoulder, he quickly picks you up in his lap and lays you on his bed.

"Are you okay?" He asks pulling your hair out of your face.

"Yes, thank you."

"You need to stop thanking me for this" he smiles.

"Never, not until you stop giving me orgasms" she laughs a little before closing her eyes.

He lies down next to her hugging her body and sleeping next to her for the first time.

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

You wake up the next morning alone in Tom's bed, desperate to get out of there and not be caught by your brother, and sneak out of the room quietly.

When you are finally ready for your day and go downstairs to the kitchen you see Tom and Harrison having coffee alone since the other guys in the house were slow to wake up.

"Did you sleep well?" Harrison asks as soon as you enter the kitchen.

"Yes" you put the coffee in the cup and sit down next to him "Very well" you say looking at Tom.

"And you?" he asks Tom "did you bring any girls home last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dude, your room is next to mine, I heard all the moaning" Harrison says laughing and you choke lightly on your coffee "Don't stop, Oh Thomas, keep going I'm going to cum" you say imitating a female voice.

"Did you hear everything?" Tom asks nervously.

"Yeah, I don't know who the girl was, but I hope you made her cum at least," he says debauched.

"Yes, I did" he says smugly giving a cocky wink.

He walks past you to put the cup in the sink and when Harrison is not looking he whispers in your ear.

"And I hope for several more".

TAGLIST

@cherryobx

@a-daydreamers-day

@bevanbexley5252

@multihoee

@storybookholland

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #peter parker x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #sam holland x reader #harry holland x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker oneshot

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E6; Chapter Six, The Monster - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘠/𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘌𝘭𝘴𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘰𝘺𝘤𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣’𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴.

|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

Joyce and Hopper sat opposite one another at the kitchen table of the Byers' home. The house was cold and hardly lit, copies of newspaper clippings scattered all around the house. One of the only light sources was a dusty chandelier that hung from the kitchen ceiling above the table and their heads, illuminating the several papers.

"Look, we gotta go through this again." Joyce insisted.

"I told you everything that I saw."

"Oh, gosh," she sighs into her hands. "Tell me again."

"Upstairs or downstairs?" Hopper asked.

"Upstairs."

"There was a laboratory. It was where they must do experiments or something, and then there was... well you see, like I said, I got turned around."

Hopper was currently sharing all he had encountered on his rogue mission at Hawkins National Laboratory. Joyce, all the while was hanging on his every word.

"I told you, it was like, I don't know, it wasn't supposed to exist. That whole area, it was abandoned and... forgotten, like it was all some big mistake. Once I found my way back, I saw that... kid's room. That other kid's room, I mean. Like it was actually used, but it didn't even look like a kid's room, neither of them did. It looked like a prison."

Hopper sighed and rubbed the bottom of his palms into his eyes tiredly, is fingers held the lit cigarette inches away from his face as he did so. "If that even makes sense,"

"Well," Joyce began, trying to get to the bottom of this never ending mystery. "So why would you think it was a kid's room, then?"

"Because, I told you, the size of the bed, there was a drawing, there was a stuffed animal--"

Joyce interrupted the man quickly. "Y-You didn't say there was a drawing."

"Yeah, there was a drawing of a... an adult and a child. It said 'Eleven' on it."

"Was it good?" Joyce pressed.

"It was a kid's drawing, Joyce. It was stick figures."

Joyce had a knowing look on her face as she stood up with a sigh, retrieving a piece of crinkled line paper and slammed it down on the table for Hopper to see.

She pointed to the detailed drawing as she sat back down.

"Wasn't Will." She stated confidently, shakily bringing the cigarette back up to her lips.

Hopper examined the drawing and everything seemed to click. He returned his gaze to the anxious mother. Hopper quickly put out his cigarette in the ashtray and made a beeline for the coffee table.

"Earl..." he muttered, as he made his way into the living room. Joyce, who had abandoned her cigarette, was right on his heels.

"The night that Benny died, Earl said he saw some kid with a shaved head with Benny," Hopper and Joyce took a seat beside one another on the living room couch, Hopper's eyes fixed on the several news clippings splayed along the wooden coffee table. "Now, I pressed him, he said it might be Will, but maybe..."

The man began shifting through the papers, and Joyce spoke up.

"Wait... Maybe, it wasn't?"

Hopper pulled the article he had been looking for and pointed to the fuzzy photograph of the woman in the article.

"Look... this woman, Terry Ives, she claims to have lost her daughter, Jane. She sued Brenner, she sued the government... Now, the claims came to nothing, but what if... I mean, what if this whole time I've been... I've been looking for Will... I've been chasing after some other kid?"

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

Everything is a mess.

Will is still missing, the party is falling apart, Mike and Lucas are still angsty messes that won't speak to one another, and now, El left us. She probably thinks I hate her.

'But I don't! I was just scared'

(Ok but like,,,, who else ships El and reader cause damn I've been giving myself feels lately, dang)

'We need to fix this'

I sigh and sit up from my bed and make my my way to Dustin's room.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"I just... I can't believe she didn't come back." Mike sighed.

Dustin and I agreed we needed to talk some sense into the rest of the party. So we got our bikes and made our way to Mike's. Dustin was standing opposite Mike while I currently occupied one of the D&D chairs I had pulled up. Mike was worriedly pacing the floor in front of us.

"She's gotta be close." Dustin offered.

"She said it wasn't safe. She just messed up the compasses because she wanted to protect us. She didn't betray us."

"Mike, calm down."

Mike only ignored Dustin and kept talking, more to himself than anybody it seemed.

"I shouldn't have yelled at her. I never should've done that."

"Mike, this isn't your fault." Dustin said.

"Yeah, it's Lucas'."

"It wasn't his fault, either." Dustin countered softly.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Mike stopped in his tracks. He looked at my brother dumbfounded and took a few steps in his direction. "It wasn't his fault?"

"No."

"So you're saying he wasn't way out of line?"

"Totally, but so were you!"

"What?"

"And so was Eleven."

"That's ridiculous! Y/n, tell him he's being ridiculous!"

Very calmly, I stood up with my arms crossed and stood next to my brother, and sighed, eyes fixed on Mike. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but Dustin is absolutely right."

Mike seemed even more furious. "Oh, give me a break!"

Dustin snapped at these words and stormed up to Mike. "No, Mike, you give me a break! All three of you were being a bunch of little assholes! Y/n and I were the only reasonable ones! But the bottom line is... you pushed first. And you know the rules. You draw first blood..."

"No! No way! I'm not shaking his hand."

"You're shaking his hand." I press, stepping forward.

He was sure to make eye contact with me over Dustin's shoulder as he spoke. "No, I'm not."

So I strode toward him and gave him a slight glare.

"This isn't a discussion. This is the rule of law. Obey or be banished from the party. Do you wanna be banished?" I asked firmly.

Mike crossed his arms and pouted before speaking up meekly. "No."

"Good!" I chirp, my face beaming as if we hadn't just been fighting which seem to only terrify him more.

I all but skipped over to the chair grabbing my coat, Dustin following my actions.

"Where are we going?" Mike asked with a hint of frustration.

"Where do you think?" Dustin asked as he put his arms through the sleeves of his coat.

"We're going to get Lucas." I finished, straightening my jacket then looked back to Mike.

My face softened and I tilted my head slightly. "And then we're gonna find Eleven."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The three of us stood on Lucas's porch and I rang the doorbell. We stood waiting until the door swung open and Lucas stood there glaring at all three of us, but mostly Mike.

"What do you want?" He spit, resting his hands in his pockets.

There was brief silence which was then interrupted by a muffled smack of Dustin hitting Mike in the arm.

Mike sighed softly and looked to Lucas, clearly hating every second of this.

"I drew first blood, so..." he extended his hand for Lucas to shake but Lucas didn't move.

Great. Of course nobody was going to make anything easy. Why would they?

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Somehow I had convinced Lucas to let us all in and now, we all stood in the middle of his living room as he paced silently across the floor considering Mike's offer. He finally stopped and stared at the three of us.

"Okay, I'll shake."

Mike sighed what I barely made out to be a "finally" as he extended his arm out once more. Dustin and I perked up, that was until Lucas continued.

"On one condition. We forget the weirdo and go straight to the gate." He finished, arms crossed defiant.

"Then the deal's off." Mike barked.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"No, no, not fine! Guys seriously?" Dustin yelled, as I threw my head back frustrated.

Dustin forced Mike to face him as he spoke. "Do you even remember what happened on the Bloodstone Pass?"

Lucas and Mike shared a confused glance.

Dustin seemed shocked and offended that they had no recollection and continued.

"We couldn't agree on what path to take, so we all split up the party and those trolls took us out one by one. And it all went to shit. And we were all disabled! So we stick together, no matter what!"

"Yeah, I agree. But this is the party, right here in this room."

"El is one of us now."

"Um, no, she's not. Not even close! Never will be. She's a liar, a traitor--"

"She was just trying to keep us safe! She didn't mean to hurt you. It was an accident!"

"An accident?"

"All right, accident or not... admit it, it was a little awesome." Dustin said.

"Awesome?"

"Yeah, she threw you in the air with her mind!"

"I could have been killed!"

"Would everybody just shut up for one second, please!" I snap.

Everybody looks to me, a shocked expression on their faces.

I step forward and begin my long awaited  rant.

"I am sick of your attitude." I point at Lucas. "I am sick of your whining." I point to Mike. "I am sick of all three of you bickering," I gesture to all of them. "I love you guys and I can't thank you enough for taking me in and including me, know that, but GOD I am tired of being stuck listening to you boys argue about every little thing!"

I myself began pacing, my voice continuously rising. "I'm sick of putting up with all your petty arguing when we should be looking for Will only to come home at the end of the day, having found NOTHING and crying my eyes out because the only person who never gave a shit about who started what is missing and probably dead!"

I stopped pacing and looked to the boys who were all silent. I sighed and lowered my voice. "Lucas, you're right. You could have been killed. Which is exactly why we need her. She is more powerful than all of us combined."

"Y/n's right. Do you seriously wanna fight the Demogorgon with your wrist rocket?" Mike said, anger still in his voice. "That's like R2-D2 going to fight Darth Vader. We're no use to Will if we're dead."

Lucas looked torn for a moment, but then he shook his head and pointed at the three of us. There was disappointment in his voice. "If you three wanna waste your time looking for a traitor, go ahead, 'cause I'm not spending my time on her anymore. No way!"

I sighed, putting my face in my hands. Lucas continued.

"I'm going to the gate. I'm going to find Will."

Lucas shoved the boys aside and stormed off, leaving the three of us alone in more ways than one.

#you'll float queue #stranger things #will byers x reader #reader insert #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #y/n henderson #eleven #el hopper #jim hopper #joyce byers #cosmic #st #st 1x06 #1x06 #the monster #stranger things x reader #x reader #x male!reader #x m!reader #m!cosmic

[sadachmesarthim]

just think about them for a minute:

- i want peter parker, the new boy king of an organized crime unit ben has figureheaded for decades. the entire seaboard adores him - no one knows what's really paying the bills. as far as they know, real estate is booming again 

- i want tony stark, our sweet young man from the city, taking after his father howard doing pro bono defense cases and helping the more unfortunate souls of new york 

- i want quentin beck, disgraced reporter for the bugle, who is this fucking close to being fired if he won't stop going on and on about these old money families the entire city loves and actually find a credible story 

- i want an angry quen beck, heart still aching and shattered, freshly broken up with, ready to spill every single secret about the parkers, and i want tony. poor, sweet, innocent tony, willing to walk right into the parker estate and practically announce that he's there for more evidence. and, because he's a total fucking moron, i want him to get caught.

- i want a peter that likes this little fly he's caught, this... tony stark. a peter that'll play with his food before he eats it. maybe he doesn't keep him - at least not locked in his basement or chained to the wall. but maybe he brings buck & steve over, whispers to them just loud enough for tony to hear. tells them to bring q to the house, however they had to.

- i want a peter that likes this little fly he's caught, this... tony stark. a peter that'll play with his food before he eats it. maybe he doesn't keep him - at least not locked in his basement or chained to the wall. but maybe he brings buck & steve over, whispers to them just loud enough for tony to hear. tells them to bring q to the house, however they had to.

- and maybe they sit tony down in front of quentin, not bound or restrained in anyway - just sitting in front of quentin and watching as peter forces q onto his knees and pulls the bag off his head. and tony .... doesn't want to run. this is just more evidence, right??? and peter is so content, inside, because he knows tony is just a tad bit too interested, and quentin beck is scared as fuck. because he knew he would get caught. he just didn't think it would be so soon. 

- i want peter to sit next to tony as steve and bucky take turns whaling on quentin. i want tony watching, unwavering, as fists fly and blood runs. i want peter watching tony, eyes not leaving the man next to him, absolutely enraptured by his lack of fear. i want peter not at all concerned with the feeling in his gut as he watched tony's eyes get big when he sees quentin spit a bloody tooth out of his mouth. i want tony really fucking concerned by the total lack of fear and self preservation instincts he has within himself throughout the entire thing.

- i want him even more concerned when he doesn't even flinch, not when the two big buff guys are hitting quentin, not when peter stands up. not at all concerned when peter pulls a gun out from underneath his jacket. not when peter glances back at tony from over his shoulder, or when peter clicks the safety off and lines it up with quentin's right temple. not when peter shoots the little rat that got tony here in the first place, not when a fine spray of blood ends up all over his face. not when peter comes to kneel in front of him, safety still off and barrel still warm and gun resting right next to tony's dick what the fuck is this guy doing. not when peter snatches his own silk square from his breast pocket and wipes tony's face off, dabbing away the offensive red stains. not even when peter brings his lips up to tony's ear and whispers "i know you can keep quiet for me, can't you baby?".

- not when the gun is pulled away from his crotch and brought up to his hairline, tip of it dragged so gently from temple to chin. not when peter tips his head up so tony can fully face him, fully meet his eyes. i want the butterflies in tony's stomach when peter uses his loaded gun to force tony to his feet. i want them when peter uses his gun instead of his fingers to draw tony's lips toward his own. i want the catch in his throat when peter's unoccupied hand closes around it, when tony's forced into a box he didn't even know existed. i want the questionable sense of safety that wraps its way around him after the only first night he spends in peters bed. i want the security he feels when the blood is rinsed out of the clothes he wore that day - good as new, it never happened. i want the love he feels when peter buys him a ring - for his middle finger of course, a modestly sized titanium band, with an inscription on the inside 

- i want the emptiness that he feels when peter tells him to never come back to the house. to never contact him again. that he can never come back. i want the tan line that develops around that ring - the feeling of distant ownership that comes with being peter parker's silent boy - i want the raised imprint on his skin - "quiet for me" - that's visible whenever he takes the ring off. he never takes the ring off. and maybe peter still helps fund howards tonys law firm, and helps make it possible for him to take all those pro bono cases and still eat regularly. and maybe he still keeps tony safe from the less desirable people seeking his services, that peter knows would look at or touch or think about him in ways that ,,, set peter's skin on fire. and maybe peter likes it. having his hands around the sweet defense lawyer boy from down the street, even if it's from afar. and maybe tony likes it too. likes keeping peters secrets. likes being his metaphorical kept boy. likes having the physical reminder on his finger that if he were ever to open his mouth, he would end up just like quentin.

- but maybe. maybe it isn't really enough for either of them. so maybe tony fucks up one day and asks to be seen. he knows he's not allowed to come back to the house. he knows he's not allowed to talk to peter again. but he has to. tony has to see him again. so he goes and he insists and that gets him a nice swift punch to the stomach - but he still gets to see peter. and peter waives everyone else away but tony, and they go, and they talk. they talk like lovers 50 years married. they talk like soulmates ripped from each others grasp. tony breaks down and says that he cant stay away. that he'll stay quiet for the rest of his life - that peter can do whatever he wants to him to make sure of it - but he can't just stay away. and peter's heart... it hurts. it aches for the man in front of him because he wants so desperately to keep him.

- and maybe... maybe tony stark, new york lawyer, 28, heir to the stark law firm, goes missing one day. maybe howard and maria are devastated and do everything in their power to find their son. maybe they wake up one morning to a loud knock on the door and an envelope sliding underneath. maybe they open it to a letter from their missing son and a check for $10,000,000. maybe they read a beautifully worded goodbye, a heartbroken apology for abandoning them, but assurance that he's okay. maybe tony spends his days in plush robes and silk shirts and $500 boxers. maybe he has a beautiful collection of collars and bracelets and rings and even crowns that his lover has bought him. maybe he enjoys it when peter comes in with a new circle of gold to wrap around his neck or finger or wrist or head. maybe he likes playing dress-up for his prince. and maybe, just maybe... peter likes spoiling the little fly he caught in his web. he likes putting gold and diamonds and gemstones all over this precious little catch 

- because he loves his tony, and his tony loves him, and the best way to keep him quiet is to keep him close 

inspiration: black treacle - arctic monkeys, suck it and see - arctic monkeys

i know the formatting on this sucks i don’t know how to fix it i’m sorry

#starker #.text #.mine #peter parker #tony stark #quentin beck #idk where this went or where it came from #i'm high #this took an hour ngl #oh well #hope u like it #gun violence #murder

[glimmerglanger]

You asked for this, friend: In the oof!au, Obes is gonna need a new lightsaber isn't he? Or at least will need to heal Anakin's. You have any ideas how that goes?

HE SURE IS. I actually think it’s one of the things he gets around to earlier (so, chronologically he starts working on it before the arm is completed, but finished after). SO:

~~~~~~~~~~

So many things were broken.

Obi-Wan felt the cracks, the aching hurts through the Force; it was a constant kind of pressure, always there. He felt it from his men - even from Rex and Ahsoka, who were not, technically, his, but - and himself and…

And even the lightsaber that he kept in his quarters.

He did not know what Anakin had done to his lightsaber. Perhaps there’d been some grand plan in store for it. Perhaps Anakin had planned to use it to cut off his legs. Or to kill him, when Anakin ran out of ways to amuse himself with Obi-Wan’s body.

Whatever his intentions had been, they could no longer come to fruition. It was gone, along with everything else once placed upon the surface of Mustafar. 

But Anakin’s lightsaber had come with them, had escaped off of the planet and stayed in Obi-Wan’s care. And it radiated agony, out into the Force. It took days - weeks - for Obi-Wan to identify that bit of agony; there was so much else to work through, first.

When he did, he froze for a long moment, staring at the metal cylinder. It was large, larger than he could comfortably hold. Anakin had not been rebuilt to scale, by whatever butchers had tended him. The saber was dark and grim and Obi-Wan did not like to look at it because Anakin had--

Made it the instrument of some much pain and suffering.

Enough so that the agony radiated out of it, still.

Obi-Wan curled his fingers up to his palms. He considered simply putting the thing in an airlock and spacing it, but… He understood the basic process used by the Sith to torture kyber crystals into compliance. He could not, he found, bring himself to abandon yet another wound caused by Anakin. He drew in a sharp breath and, carefully, went about dismantling the device.

It was easy to fall into the habit of breaking down a lightsaber. He had done it so many times in his life. Each lightsaber was different but each was the same, as well. He twisted and tugged and gently placed the pieces as he went, just as though he were repairing his own.

Except his crystal had never been so dull. There was no visible red glow to it, not the way he had half-expected. It simply looked shadowed. It had no shine. And it radiated agony out into the Force, a sense of corruption and wrongness.

“Sh,” Obi-Wan said, plucking the tiny crystal up and placing it in his palm. It barely weighed anything and felt terribly cold against his skin. He curled his fingers around it and cradled it to his chest, curling over, murmuring, “sh, sh.”

#

There were methods to heal a kyber crystal. Obi-Wan had heard of them, once upon a time, ever so long ago. He barely recalled them. He’d been a padawan, when he learned the lore and the rituals, and had not thought them something he needed to commit to memory.

After all, he’d assumed, the library would always be there to review the process.

He was still digging through his memories when someone knocked at his door. He did not have to stretch out his senses through the Force to know that it was Cody. After all, he’d been alone for nearly an hour.

That was, to date, close to a record for them.

Obi-Wan shook that thought away. Healing, he knew, took time. He stood, keeping the crystal tucked against his palm, and went to the door, and nodded, though he was not really hungry, when Cody asked if he wanted to go to the mess.

The crystal burned cold against his palm through the meal.

#

Obi-Wan grew familiar with the cuts and edges of the crystal. He studied it and kept it close and wondered, exactly, how he was supposed to heal it. He meditated upon it, keeping the crystal close, and found it easy to sink down into its presence in the Force.

Something lashed out at him when he did, something sharp edged that slid along his mind. He got the feeling, settled deep in the Force, that it was a strike not meant to cause harm. A warning, instead. 

He exhaled, centering himself and refocusing on the crystal and when it struck at him again, he accepted the pain. Sometimes, he knew, healing required pain. A broken bone could not be set without hurt.

And he knew quite well how to handle pain.

#

The pain radiating out of the crystal did not ease all at once. It faded over time, in bits and snatches, until one morning Obi-Wan woke up and felt no hurt blazing out of it. He uncurled his fingers slowly, and found the crystal clear.

He smiled and curled his fingers closed again, relieved, at least, to have succeeded in fixing something.

He meant, really, to leave things there. The Order had fallen, the Temple had burned, he was...not the warrior he once was. What use did he have, really, for a lightsaber? But that did not stop him from reaching for his belt, more and more often, especially once his prosthetic was completed.

It would always be his first instinct, in a fight, to reach for a lightsaber, to stand as a shield in front of his men. A blaster could kill a man, or at least hurt someone badly enough that they would not rise again.

A lightsaber could deflect a killing blow, could stop a fight before it started.

And so he sighed, eventually, and pulled out the rest of the pieces of Anakin’s lightsaber, frowning over them. They were the wrong size to serve his purposes, but the basic components would work, if he managed to collect enough of what he needed. 

He wondered how difficult it would be to arrange a trip to a market. Or perhaps two.

#

In the end, he made his purchases here and there, while they were going about other business. He thought he’d done a fairly good job keeping his work to himself, at least until Tektek stopped by his side in the mess one day and placed a small spring beside his hand. Obi-Wan had been unable to find one anywhere and looked up, startled.

“It wasn’t hard to make,” Tektek said, gaze cutting to the side, voice quiet. 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, reaching his new hand out and gently lifting the spring. “I didn’t - you didn’t have to--”

“I wanted to,” Tektek said, and Obi-Wan could not help but noting that their conversation was suddenly drawing a lot of attention. Crys, a table away, had frozen and was staring at them, wide-eyed, as Tektek cleared his throat and said, “Some of us - we have some other parts. If you’d want them.”

Obi-Wan blinked, rapidly, trying to clear away the burn in his eyes. He said, carefully clearing his throat, “I’d - of course I’d want them.”

And by the time he left the mess he had all the pieces he yet needed, held carefully in his hands. He said, softly, to Cody, who walked beside him the entire way, “I didn’t mean to put everyone to any trouble.” 

And Cody hesitated, for just a step, before he slid into motion again and said, “You didn’t.”

Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose. “I--”

“We want - we - it’s good, to help you,” Cody cut in, touching his arm, so softly that Obi-Wan only barely felt it. He came to a stop and purposefully leaned into the touch, hearing Cody’s breath catch a little.

They did nothing but look at one another for a moment, and then Obi-Wan nodded. He said, soft, “I have everything I need now.”

“So you can make one?” Cody asked, and Obi-Wan hesitated another moment before inclining his head, just a little. “Good,” Cody said, and Obi-Wan wished he could agree so whole-heartedly, so easily.

#

In the end, Obi-Wan found reasons to put off the construction, but a brutal fight and then another convinced him he could not wait any longer. He was a steady hand with a blaster. He could fight more than well with nothing but his body.

But…

A lightsaber helped. There was no way to deny it. And so he went back to his quarters, relieved when Cody followed him in and sat down at the table to clean his blaster. Obi-Wan laid out all the pieces and...made himself breathe as he constructed them. 

It did not take long to complete the work. He closed his eyes and felt each piece in the Force, moving them together without touching them. He tested the balance of the completed saber, sliding the Force over each piece of it, feeling the thrum of the crystal inside.

He stretched out his hand and took it from the air, and it fitted perfectly against his palm and his fingers. He opened his eyes and exhaled, and Cody, who had been sitting quietly across the room asked, “Well, are you going to turn it on?”

Obi-Wan stared down at the saber in his grip, heart twisting unpleasantly in his chest. He knew, very well, that a kyber crystal reflected the person it attuned to, and that he had gently replaced Anakin’s impression on the crystal. He’d spent time with it, carried it with him, it would--

It would know him, when he turned the saber on. It would reflect him. Changes and damage and--

He shut his eyes, looking to the side, fingers clenching tight. “Perhaps later,” he rasped out, throat unpleasantly tight, too able to imagine what the blade might tell him about the parts of himself he didn’t want to see, about what Anakin had done to him, really, not on the outside, but inside--

“Sh,” Cody murmured, quiet, and closer. “It’s -- Obi-Wan.” He reached out, carefully, and gripped Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Obi-Wan blinked, could not help but lean into the touch, the comfort Cody was projecting down at him. He looked up, and found Cody watching him. And Cody said, quietly, “Try it now, please.”

Obi-Wan hesitated another moment, but, in truth, putting it off further wouldn’t solve anything. He swallowed and nodded, tried to center himself in the Force and activated the lightsaber and--

He did not intend to sob at the flash of blue light, but the sound escaped his throat, anyway. And Cody was there, curling an arm around his back, murmuring soothing words against his hair as Obi-Wan slumped into him, relief and disbelief and wild joy all swirling within him.

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #oof!au #fallout of trauma #mentions of past torture #loss of a limb #recovery from trauma #codywan

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Hi! You're by far my favorite writer for the man himself so I wanted to ask you.. can we plleeasse get a super sweet and passionate morning sex smutty-fluffer with Mr. Washington? Maybe the two of them had a stressful week at work/school or something and they decided to drive up to the lodge to escape by themselves for a long weekend together?? I'm on a massive Josh kick right now, there isn't enough love for him 😫😫

13. sleepy sex 14. being ridden

Another perfect place to answer two requests—I’m feeling accomplished! I love you all so much 💋

Also, this sucker is almost 3,000 words. I SWEAR I try to answer your prompts quickly on days like this, but sometimes, a story happens. Well, if this can even be considered a “story” 😆

* * * * *

Every year, Josh Washington hosted one hell of a summer-kick-off party at his parents’ lodge. He watched the weather like he was auditioning for a job on the local news, carefully choosing the warmest, clearest day. Despite the label of “summer,” the temperature in the Rockies at the lodge only ever flirted with anything near 75°F (23°C) yet Josh insisted, every year, that it was a “pool party” and that guests shouldn’t wear much more than a swimsuit.

At least that’s what your mutual friend, Chris, had explained to you.

It had been a stressful final month of school—exams, moving out of your dorm and back home with your parents, finding a summer job—so when Josh finally chose a date for the party, you requested the weekend off and offered to help him get things set up.

Josh eyed you suspiciously, considering that you and he had been engaged in a sort of “will they, won’t they” dance for the past few months. You were locked in a battle wondering if he just wanted to check you off his list as another notch in his bedpost, and he was wondering if you even liked him as more than a flirting buddy, considering you seemed to have quite a lot of those.  

“You sure?”

“Totally!”

Josh took your phone and typed in the address for the lodge. “Can you come up Thursday? That way we have all day Friday to get ready.”

You nodded and plucked your phone out of his hand, but not before he tightened his grip, making you look up and smile at him as you tugged on it.

“Gimme. Or I won’t come up at all.”

Josh released his grip with his trademark grin before he schooled his features into a contortion of pain as he gripped his chest. “Call the medic! I’m wounded. My heart’s been plucked from my chest,” he exaggeratedly panted.

You tried to stifle your grin, knowing it only encouraged his antics, but how could you not smile at that adorable goof?

* * *

The drive up to the Washington Lodge was fantastic for your stress level—nothing but empty roads, gorgeous scenery, and all the cheesiest, upbeat pop music you could cram onto a playlist. When you finally parked your car behind Josh’s in the horseshoe driveway, you were humming the lyrics of the last song as you pulled your weekender bag from the backseat.

After you slammed the door shut and rounded the car, you looked up at the lodge and whistled.

“Jeee-sus.” You knew Josh’s folks were rich, but this was the kind of rich you had only ever seen on Instagram … or maybe on an episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians. It was so intimidating, it made you think twice about Josh.

He was just so … normal. Well, normal in a film-nerdy, goofball kinda way, but he never struck you as someone who grew up in a bubble of privilege.

It was close to 8:30 pm, but daylight still persisted and the pinkish sky lit up Josh’s face as he stepped onto the porch and looked down at you while you still stared open-mouthed at the lodge.

“Was the drive okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah it was great,” you said as you shook your head and climbed the stairs. “Josh—this place is … insane.”

“You’ve never been here?”

You shook your head no.

Josh frowned and thought for a moment. “I guess I forgot we haven’t known each other that long. You sure feel like an old chum, lil buddy,” he said as he slung an arm around your shoulders and walked you into the house.

“Chum? ‘Lil’ buddy?” you said with amusement.

Josh cleared his throat and removed his arm, nervously running one hand through his freshly cut hair. “What else should I call you?”

You bit your lip and looked up at him, a small smile on your face. “Guess we’ll see, huh?”

Josh grinned, his face lighting up as his white teeth flashed, and butterflies unexpectedly danced in your stomach.

“Let me show you around.”

* * *

The house was just as impressive on the inside, and when Josh finally showed you his room, you flopped on his king-sized bed and begged him to never make you leave. He laughed and made you promise not to move a muscle as he dashed out of the room, returning in about 15 minutes with food, drinks, extra pillows, and a stack of DVDs tucked under his chin as he tried to balance it all. He kicked the door shut, nearly spilling a bowl of popcorn he had tucked under his arm.

“Now you’re my prisoner,” he attempted to declare, but given the comical way he was shuffling toward the bed, you could do nothing other than laugh.

As he deposited everything onto the comforter, you asked, “DVDs? Is there even a TV in here?”

“Au contraire, lil lady. Behold!”

Josh walked over to the wall and slid the wooden paneling open, revealing a huge flatscreen. “Ta-da!”

“I really could stay here forever,” you mumbled as you kicked off your shoes and scooted to the top of the bed.  

“But don’t you think you’d be more comfortable in your PJs? Unless, of course, you sleep in the buff? And in that case, you would absolutely be more comfortable in your PJs,” Josh finished as he settled onto the bed next you, his elbow propping him up as he laid on his side to face you.

“If I came out of your bathroom naked, you wouldn’t even know what to do with yourself, Joshua Washington.”

“You’re right. I’d die of happiness,” he confirmed with a smile.

The room felt a lot hotter than it did a moment ago, so you sat up and looked down at Josh, his big green eyes bursting with affection.

“Let’s see how the night goes,” you promised with a sweet kiss to the tip of his nose.

* * *

As it turned out, the night passed chastely. You were a lot more tired than you had thought, and halfway through the first movie, your hand still sitting in the bowl of popcorn, you fell asleep.

When your breathing deepened and it became clear you weren’t going to wake up, Josh chuckled as he removed your hand from the bowl. He cleared off the bed and turned off the TV before snuggling into your side and quickly falling asleep.

Sunlight streaming through a huge window woke you up with a start. For a moment, you forgot where you were until you shifted under the weight of Josh’s arm. You smiled as you felt him stir, the arm wrapped around your waist tightening as he burrowed between your shoulder blades, probably trying to unconsciously hide from the sun.

Squinting, you shuffled out of bed and fiddled with the blinds until you figured out how to draw them. The room darkened to a greyish hue and Josh rolled over, seemingly still asleep. Since you were up, you went in to use the bathroom, and as you washed your hands in the sink, you looked at your reflection.

A slight blush colored your cheeks as you thought about how much you wanted to wake up like this again, preferably after figuring out if the big dick jokes the boys directed at Josh were because he actually was well-endowed or if they were just being idiots.

You had left your bag in here after changing last night, so you dug around for your toiletry case to retrieve your toothbrush.

After adjusting your tank top and sleep shorts, you gave your just-brushed hair a sexy tousle and glanced longingly at your lip gloss container.

“Too much,” you said with a dismissive shake of your head. You piled everything back into your bag, and exited the bathroom, hoping Josh was still asleep.

As you rounded the corner the bathroom was tucked into, you felt that familiar hot flush creep over your cheeks as you took in Josh’s form.

In your absence, he had sprawled out in the middle of the bed. He was on his stomach, his hands tucked under his pillow as he faced away from the window. His chocolatey-colored curls had lost their definition in the night and stood out against his light-grey pillowcase in a wild puff. The blankets were pushed down to his waist and the plain white t-shirt he had worn to bed was pushed up to his midback, exposing an expanse of light brown skin. His legs were spread, one foot sticking out from under the messy pile of blankets and you had to tamp down the temptation to see if he was ticklish.

You slid back into bed and settled on your side so you could face him. Tentatively, you reached out with your finger and ran it gently down his spine. His skin was smooth and the depression of his spine contrasted so deliciously with the strong muscles of his lower back that you wanted nothing more than to trace that indentation with your tongue.

Still touching him lightly, Josh stirred, his arms flexing as he stretched them before lifting his head and turning to look at you.

“Hi,” he said, his grin half-hidden by his bicep.

“Good morning.”

“Sorry. Forgot to pull the blind.”

“So you were awake?”

“Just waiting to see how much of me you’d touch if you thought I was asleep. Pervert,” Josh teased.

You opened your mouth in mock-offense and smacked his shoulder. “Rude.”

He chuckled and stretched again before he wriggled out from the blankets and stood, offering a mumbled, “Be right back,” as he made his way to the bathroom.

Josh wasn’t gone long, but it was long enough for your eyes to slip shut, a smile still on your face as you thought about him.

When you felt the bed dip, your eyes popped open.

“Sleepy girl?” Josh asked, his hand crawling under your tank top to rest on your bare stomach.

The heat radiating from his palm scorched through your body, a pool of arousal settling between your thighs.

“Not anymore,” you whispered as you looked at him, your eyes locked on his as you slid your hand along his arm, resting it on top of his.

Josh pulled his hand from beneath yours, off of your stomach and up to the side of your face. He cupped your cheek and slid closer, his body warm and connected with yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

In answer, you pulled him to you by the front of his shirt, causing both of you to softly sigh as your lips connected and began to move. You both tasted like the spearmint of Josh’s toothpaste, and when his tongue licked along the seam of your lips, you opened for him, the tips of your tongues touching before he dove into your mouth.

You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were both a panting mess, the blankets twisted around your legs, your once-sexily tasseled hair once again a mess, and Josh’s poof of curls even more wild than they had been against his pillow from you running your fingers through them, scraping across his scalp and around the back of his head.

Reaching for the bottom of his t-shirt, you tugged until he detached himself from your mouth so he could pull it the rest of the way off. You seized the momentary lull to push him onto his back, and as you sat up, you pulled off your tank top, Josh’s pupils dilating as he watched your breasts bounce.

Immediately, his hands reached for them, but you pulled back as you wiggled out of your shorts. Josh licked his lips and followed suit, pulling off his sleep pants. You glanced at the outline of his cock beneath his boxer-briefs and smirked.

“They weren’t just jokes,” you mused as you reached out and gripped him, pulling a mix between a moan and a chuckle from his throat.

It was your turn to control the kissing, so you straddled his hips and lowered your body to rest on top of his, once again relishing in the warmth of him and the masculine scent that seemed to be a mixture of expensive cologne and something that was just … Josh.

His hands roamed over your back and your backside, kneading and massaging as you kissed him—lips, jaw, neck, and when you sat up to catch your breath, he begged, “Ride me. Please.”

Again, that electric heat shot through your body and you knew your pussy was a mess for him. He reached up, finally able to wrap his big hands over your breasts, and you leaned back, grinding on his cock as he worked your nipples gently pulling on them before he leaned up to capture one in his mouth.

You shuddered as he sucked, his green eyes looking up at you, full of unabashed want and affection. He moved his mouth to your other nipple and you thought you might spontaneously combust if you didn’t slide his dick inside of your body within the next three breaths.

“Do we need protection? I’m on the pill.”

“Are you asking me if I’m a slut?” Josh said as he nuzzled between your breasts.

“Yes,” you answered, not caring if it sounded callous.

“I’m clean—and you?” he queried, laying back onto his pillows.

“Me too,” you answered before pulling down his underwear and moaning as you palmed his dick.

“Such a big boy,” you praised before looking up at him. “Tell me why we waited this long?”

“How about after we fuck?” Josh suggested, leaning up to tug at your panties.

With a huff of laughter, you slid your underwear off and returned to straddle him, sliding your soaking pussy lips over his cock until it glistened.

A whiny moan slid out from Josh as he watched and his strong hands reached up to grasp your hips and tilt them, the tip of his cock finally sliding inside your body. You adjusted the top half of him, sliding up and down a few times before taking him in all the way, both of you letting out a whoosh of breath once he was fully sheathed.

“Oh my god,” you groaned as your eyes rolled back at the sensation of his big cock. “Wow!”

Josh snorted and gave your ass a light smack.

“See what you were missin’ out on?”  

“Mmm,” you hummed as you began to ride him, slowly and purposefully, not wanting your first time together to be over in a flash.

“You feel so fucking good,” Josh stated as his hands slid over your body. “So good.”

The rhythm you settled into was natural, even lazy, like you had been fucking for years. It felt so right, to be here with Josh, to feel him moving inside of you as you locked eyes, both of you shedding your protective layers and letting yourselves feel exposed, finally knowing that all each of you would see in return would be a sweet tenderness, the kind that could easily turn into love.

“Touch me,” you breathed, leaning back to rest your hands on his thighs so he could have full access to your clit.

Josh’s fingers immediately went to work, stimulating your swollen clit. The sweat blossoming across his brow in tandem with the flush of red settling over his chest told you he was trying his best not to come before you did.

“Come, Josh. Come for me,” you commanded as you clenched your inner walls around him and swirled your hips.

His thumb stuttered across your clit until he couldn’t do anything other than grasp your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass bruisingly as he cried out, his hot cum flooding your pussy while you rode him through his climax.

He looked beautiful as he came, his eyes widening before slamming shut as a series of gravelly groans fell from his parted lips.

Swallowing for breath and still hard inside of you, Josh flipped you onto your back and reached between your thighs, furiously working your clit until you came, clenching around his softening cock.

Josh said something to you, but you couldn’t hear him over the roar of blood in your ears. You shook your head and raised your hand, silently begging him to give you a minute.

Josh placed light kisses across the heated skin of your chest, before shifting slightly so his weight wasn’t crushing you.

“What was it you said?” you asked when you could finally form a sentence.  

Josh looked into your face, smiling. “That good, huh?”

You giggled and smacked his shoulder, again. “That was not what you said.”

His face turned serious as he nodded, clearly building his resolved to repeat his spontaneous emission.

“Will you be my girlfriend? I … I don’t want this to just be a one-time thing.”

You were speechless as your eyes roamed his face, your mind wondering how you got so lucky.

“Yeah. I wanna be your girl, Josh.”

“Fuck yeah!” he yelled, rolling over and pumping his fist into the air before he pulled you back on top of him, his hands tangling in your hair to pull you down for a kiss.

You pulled away after a minute to ask, “Can we cancel the party? Just do this instead?”

“And miss a chance to see you prancing around in a swimsuit for hours, knowing I get to tear it off of you at the end of the night?”

Your body flushed with a familiar warmth as you grinned. “Guess I didn’t think about it like that.”

“I can’t wait to show you off,” Josh whispered against your lips, both of you smiling as you exchanged sweet kisses.      

#SMUT #Josh Washington x reader #female reader #josh washington #Josh Washington smut #Rami Malek characters

[alri-xo]

Japan's Our Witness (BuckyxReader)

A/N: I know it's still quarantine for a lot of us... But how about travelling with Bucky?? This idea has been in my head for a while and I did my research. I hope you enjoy it though... This will be a travel au once again, like the corona virus never existed, the setting will be around mid-March up to the first week of April, long hair Bucky and just... Bucket List Realness 🌸 (I deleted this initially thinking it wasn't good enough. Thanks babe @witchymegg for thinking it's good as is ily 😭💓)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x Reader

Warnings: If you are Japanese or you are into Japanese culture, I may get things wrong here. Soft core making out sesh, kinda graphic (not really), swearing... uhm... Dumb joke about noodles... This being longer than usual and it has no page break because I AM ON THE APP.

Normal POV

"Japan is a place full of rich culture. A melting pot of ancient and modern, it doesn't fail to disappoint..." the video narrated as Bucky watched a travel vlog, holding the phone in his hands.

He watched the video as images of cherry blossom trees, temples and sushi restaurants graced the screen. His mind raced with the beauty of it all. The thoughts being all too familiar to him as he remembered your ramblings of wanting to travel the world.

Sure, you travelled a lot. However, that was for missions, not for vacations. Bucky recalled that one time you went to the grand canyon, but that's just about it. Plus, every other Avenger was there. Clearly, it wasn't alone time (or so the legend goes).

Nearly halfway through the video, you entered the common room and sat beside Bucky, making him jump a little, "Hey, Buck... Whatcha waaatchin'?"

"Things... uhm..." he says thinking about the 21st century term for the video is...

"Travel Vlog?" you answered your own question with the correct term as Bucky's eyes widened in agreement and nodded.

You watched beside him as it didn't take long for you to figure out what's it about. Your eyes widened as it featured the century old Todaiji Temple and the Snow Monkeys.

"You're watching a vlog about Japan?? Oh my God-" your rambling came to a halt as you bit your finger trying to contain your excitement, "God, I always wanted to go there..."

Bucky smiled, his eyes crinkled as he saw how you were so giddy about it. He loves seeing you this way. His doll being all excited to travel, and it's not about a mission this time. Not that you were excited for missions but like, travelling in general.

"What's stopping you, doll?" He asks, his Brooklyn accent lacing every word he said making you blush.

"Well, y'know... Earth's Mightiest Heroes..." you said kind of sarcastically as his lips formed a small O shape in agreement. His eyes fluttered slightly as there was a small pause in the air for a quick sec, "We only travel for missions, Bucky..."

"Who said two of the Earth's Mightiest Heroes can't go on an actual 2-week vacation?"

🌸

"Good afternoon, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 87B to Tokyo. We are now inviting those passengers with children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes time. Thank you." The radio said announcing your flight to Tokyo as Bucky munched on the plum tarts you made as snacks as you waited at the airport.

"Hm... Ten more minutes..." he mumbled taking another bite of the jammy tart you made for him. You smiled as you tucked a piece of hair behind his ear as a blush crept up to his stubbled cheeks. He looked fluffier as the layers of cloth on him, especially the hoodie you bought him made him look so huggable.

Thankfully they didn't stop you at the metal detectors because it went off because of Bucky. They let you in knowing that it's a prosthetic and he needs it. However, Bucky became embarassed as it went off so loudly that it made people's heads turn, and he's not one for attention.

So now, you're here, with your love. Waiting on your flight to Japan, munching on pastries as you stood up to face him with a hand on your hip.

"So you're gonna eat all that for ten minutes? I think we should get going, baby... We wouldn't want to miss Tokyo, would we?" You said as you held his metal hand, walking to the waiting area to ride the small bus to the plane. He blushed at the petname, making you smile and giggle.

He hummed in response and smiled at you, "In all honesty, I'd rather miss this flight than miss a day with you, doll..."

You blushed as you kissed his metal hand and rode the small bus, your two decent sized luggage bags behind you and very pregnant backpacks on your backs making you look like turtles in love.

You boarded the plane moments later, Bucky went in first since he had the window seat for a couple of good reasons. One, to look at the view and two, to be your human pillow during the flight. You looked at him as the flight attendants looked at him flirtatiously, he grinned back at the greeting as you saw them blush.

You huffed a little and carried on with boarding the plane. The greeted you as you half heartedly smiled back at them, feeling a little bit irritated trying to flirt with Bucky.

He sat down, smile lacing his face as he patted the seat next to him. Your heart melted in to a puddle as you loved seeing him smile. His beautiful blue eyes twinkling when he does. You placed the luggage on the shelves on then sat beside him.

You began to rub your hands together in excitement and nervousness as the flight attendant began to demonstrate how to put on your seatbelt and how to use the oxygen masks provided above your seats, following through with the instructions.

"How are you feeling, doll?" Bucky asks as he notices your mannerisms, knowing your feeling nervous, making him feel worried.

"I'm good, Bucky... I'm just feeling really excited... I mean come on... Japan???" You say feeling your heart beating faster, "With you??? That's even better!"

He smiles and plants a kiss on your forehead, placing your head on his shoulder as you kiss his cheek, "That's sweet, doll... But we need to rest now, I wouldn't want to deal with a cranky y/n now, would we?"

You pouted a little and shook your head, "No, sir..." Bucky smirked when you said 'sir' and he put his hand on your lap.

"That's my good little doll..." he cooed as you rested oh his shoulder, kissing it before you lay your head on it. You hummed in response as the plane took off...

🌸

You boarded off the plane then went down the escalator. Tony told the both of you that he hired a driver for you to drive you to the nearest hotel where you and Bucky will stay. You insisted that you can navigate Japan yourselves, but Tony wanted to give you and Bucky an easier time.

You saw a sign that says Robocop and Y/N. Bucky chuckled as you laughed at the sign, seeing that Tony's playfulness is worldwide.

"That man still has a few tricks up his sleeve no matter where we go..." Bucky smiled as you carried your bags once again, nearing the man with the cardboard sign...

"Welcome to Japan, Mr. Barnes, Ms. Y/L/N. My name is Hiroshi Hamada. I will be your driver for now..." he greets bowing, and shaking your hands, "Mr. Stark sent me for you..."

You thank him and you waited for him to park the car where you're going to ride to go to the hotel. You stopped over at a nearby convenience store and grabbed a few (a lot) snacks before heading back on the road to your hotel.

He drove you for 15 minutes to get to the beautiful hotel. You checked in and they lead you to the room. The room was spaceous, adorned with black, brown and neutral colors. You were in awe as you never thought that it would look as good in person but, boy you were so wrong.

Bucky was just as shocked as it looked so pretty. Dimly lit, smelt good, cozy and beautiful. He then looked at you inspecting every corner of the room. The beautiful and spacy bathroom, with a tub and other things, the closet and other lovely amenities.

"Isn't this amazing, Bucky?" You said as you slipped off your sweater, leaving you in your tanktop of leggings and plopping down on the soft bed. Bucky smiles and sits down beside you, lowering himself as he supports his head in his hand, his elbow raising him up a little bit.

"This IS amazing, doll..." he pauses a little as he places his metal hand on your cheek, drawing little circles, "But you're more amazing..."

"Bucky, you've been making me blush even before we got here..." you say giggling as he chuckles pulling you closer to him facing his form.

"Got a problem with that, y/n?" He says raising a brow looking down at you as you mumbled a 'no.'

You yawned and you looked at the clock. It's nearing 3 o'clock in the morning since the flight took about 14 hours. Bucky notices and he proceeded to go to the bathroom.

You got up and sat up on the bed, your eyes fluttering closed every now and then, "Where are you goiiiing?" You whine as you heard water filling up the tub.

"I don't want my best girl to wake up all sticky and sweaty..." he says peeping his body from the bathroom with a chuckle, his smile making the crinkles around his eyes appear, his toned chest and abs on full display. You rolled your eyes at his response but it gave your stomach butterflies. In addition, he's shirtless. You can't wear blush every time he's around. He's got you covered since day one.

"And why is that, Sargeant Barnes?" You asked slyly, standing up walking up to him, hands behind your back.

He grabbed your wrist from behind your back and pulled you closer to him, he leaned down to your ear, "I'm the only one who's allowed to make you sticky and sweaty, doll..."

His words sent shivers down your spine and you blushed furiously. He pulled you in the bathroom, the scent of peaches and cherry blossoms filling your nose.

He kissed you softly and tenderly, until his lips barely touched yours. He was behind you so he kissed the top of your head down to behind your ear as he helped you strip off your tank top. He worked his way down your jaw and neck, feeling the cool metal of his bionic fingers unclasping your bra.

You moaned as he cupped your left breast with his left hand, kneeding it gently as he kissed down your shoulder. You reached down to his crotch, feeling his erection as you undid the button of his pants with your right hand as the left rested on top of his metal one as it carressed your flesh.

Needless to say, it was more than a warm bubble bath for the both of you...

🌸

You woke up nude, the scent of cherry blossoms in the room. The air condition whirring as Bucky's faint snoring filled your ears, his arms wrapped around you.

His face so angelic as you felt the air from his nostrils warm your face at certain spots. His stubble gracing his strong jaw and his pink lips emitting the sounds you grown accustomed to almost every morning.

You kissed his adam's apple and then his chin, "Wake up, my soldier..."

He groaned softly as he slowly opened his beautiful steel blue eyes, stretching himself out, "G'morning, ōjo..."

You raised a brow and slapped his chest a little, "What does that mean, babe?"

"It means 'princess' in Japanese, doll... aren't you my princess?" He says kissing your lips softly, you smiled as you kissed his eyes. You hummed in response as you kissed him again...

"Yeah, but we need to get going, Bucky... We still need to go to Harajuku and that's like an hour away..." you say as you sit up, covering yourself with the blanket. Bucky faced the ceiling with a groan, rubbing his eyes.

"Harajuku can wait, doll... We have all day..." He says facing you. You groaned in defeat as you plopped down next to him, cuddling him like a koala bear.

"But it's the Cherry Blossoms in Nakameguro, Bucky..." you whined. You always admired the place in pictures as it featured one of the most beautiful spots for Cherry Blossoms in Japan.

"That too can wait... We barely ate anything for breakfast, y/n... The plants can wait..." he says softly cupping your face, "We need to at least eat something..."

You just nodded and got up, "You're right, Buck... We should eat breakfast..."

You used the blanket to cover yourself, leaving Bucky naked on the bed making you laugh as he didn't do anything to cover himself up, "Your 'soldier' is getting cold..."

You pertained to his soft member. He smirked and chuckled playfully, "Care to warm him up, sweets?"

You blushed at what he said. You wanted to play with him and his little game... So you ignored him. You walked off to your backpack and took out your clothes for the day. You heard him get out of bed and walk on the floor.

He walked up behind you and carried you by your waist, you squirming to make you put him down but he just plopped you on the bed, you fully exposed for him.

"I want to hear you, doll... Care to warm me up or not..." he growled, you nodded as he held your wrists above your head, his member hardening against your thigh, he held your wrists tighter, "Use your words, sweetie..."

"Yes, Sir..."

🌸

You panted on top of him, skin to skin as the only thing covering you is the white blanket. The scent of sex filling the air as Bucky flipped you on the bed making him hover abover you.

You cupped his face and joined your foreheads, "Can we eat actual breakfast now?" You smiled coyly as he chuckled, "I want noodles..."

"Yeah... me too... But you know what's a noodle as well?"

🌸

You went back to your room after breakfast, feeling stuffed with the breakfast buffet. You waddled to the elevator as you felt so full, you couldn't move. Your shorts a little tighter than before as Bucky placed a hand on your lower back for support.

"I can't tell you're full, y/n," he chuckled as you rolled you eyes at him. He pulled you closer to his body as the elevator went up your floor. All you could do was groan in response making him laugh.

You got to your room and sat on the small table near the window. It provided just enough light for you to doll yourself up for your trip to Harajuku. You busted out your makeup bag as Bucky got out of the bathroom in only a towel.

You stood up and grabbed your towel and some of the skincare items you carried with you, Bucky looked at the amount of stuff you brought with you and he shook his head.

"You don't need all that, doll..." he whined as you giggled in response, "You're already beautiful without it..."

You blushed again, for the nth time. You placed the skincare on the bathroom counter as you said loudly through the door, "I need iiiiit..."

You heard Bucky scoff through the door as you turned on the shower, "Whatever, doll... I love you no matter what..."

"I'm showering, Bucky... Stop distracting me!!"

🌸

You arrived in Harajuku, it was full of life. You and Bucky were in awe as you hopped out the taxi. You thanked the driver and paid your fare as you kept up with the people crossing the street straight after.

You shopped, then crossed the street and the cycle repeats, and occasionally grabbing a couple of munchies. You did that for about three hours before the both of you realized you were exhausted. In addition, you were carrying your backpacks as well. Despite that, you and Bucky didn't fail to take lots of pictures, especially of you.

Bucky loves taking pictures of you, always asking you to smile for the camera where ever he wants to take a picture of a beautiful view, saying you make it look ten times better.

You also took a lot of stolen shots from Bucky. He's looks so angsty as he walks around the busy streets and side walks that he looks adorable. Even more adorable when you get a chance to take a stolen picture of him laughing, smiling or looking like a meme.

You stopped by a local Kimono shop as you were walking by the many shops of the district. Bucky saw the way you looked at the shop and nudged you, "Wanna go there, doll?"

You nodded as he held your hand, entering the establishment. Different colors and patterns gracing the building of garments. A red Yukata caught your eye as you were looking through the garments...

Bucky saw the red garment and smiled, "That's gonna look gorgeous on you, doll..." he whispered in your ear as he kissed your cheek.

A lady approached you and asked what you were looking for. You asked for the red Yukata as she proceeded to help you with your find.

You came out with more than the red garment as she suggested the other accesories that are meant to be with a traditional Yukata. You thanked her as she packed up your clothing and you paid, leaving with a smile on you and Bucky's faces.

Bucky shopped for his Haori set, as he wanted to match with you. Thankfully, there were shops that sold just what he wanted. Most of the garments looked so good on him, as he tried out different variations. He settled with the black Haori set and you headed off.

As you headed off to the Harajuku station, you stopped by the famous Cat Cafe nearby. Bucky's face lit up when he saw the place teeming with cats. You went in for a snack and furry cuddles as Bucky enjoyed himself wanting to pet every cat in the establishment, nearly not eating his food.

He took pictures of almost every cat in the cafe, comparing them to Alpine every once in a while. You pet the cats occasionally, being too busy taking videos of Bucky having fun.

🌸

You rode the train to Nakameguro, leaving your big backpacks at the train station for you to come back for it after your dusk to night stroll. The only things you were carrying at this point were your valuables and the shopping bags containing the red Yukata, Bucky' Haori and the accessories that go along with them.

You got dressed at a bathroom near the Nakameguro park, helping each other put your outfits together and sharing a couple of kisses on different parts of your body (wink wonk).

You exited the bathroom stalls together, hand in hand as the pink cherry blossoms graced your eyes. The place illuminated by dim red lanterns made it look like it's not real.

Bucky looked at you, eyes in awe reflecting the lights of the park in your (y/e/c) orbs. You looked like a girl who opened her eyes for the first time, admiring your surroundings.

He smiled as you walked down by the Meguro river under the dimly lit cherry blossom trees making you glow. His metal hand reflecting shades of pink and white as he held yours. You looked at him, his strong features highlighted by the lights of the location, his eyes sparkling as he looked ahead walking by the river.

He caught you staring at him, your puppy dog eyes making him melt and blush. He then held your waist and pulled you closer to him as you walked and whispered in your ear, "Like what you see, my doll?"

You blushed, a fluster of red adorning your cheeks and a warmth washing over you making Bucky smile. You covered your face with the fan you purchased back in Harajuku, making him giggle. He kissed your cheek, the fan covering your PDA and later, pecked a kiss on your lips.

Bystanders who were also taking an evening stroll looked at you as they heard your giggles, Bucky stiffened as you snorted a giggle behind your fan, "Guess it's not our own little world, doll..."

"It's okay, Buck... You're my own little world..." you said slyly into his ear making him chuckle as you gained on him throwing little pick up lines.

"Did you drink too much Sake, y/n?" He asks as you giggle. You shook your head in response as you looked at him under your lashes...

"I'm drunk in love, baby..." you said quietly into his ear giggling... He kissed your temple as you continued your stroll, the rustling of leaves and blossoms moving to the wind's touch filling your ears.

Cherry blossoms and their petals start to fall all over the area and all over you, your red outfit littered with with the beautiful flowers. Bucky had some scattered on his head making you laugh as he tried to blow them off.

The flowers sparked an idea in your head as you picked the flower on Bucky's hair as you placed it above his ear tucking it in snuggly.

Bucky smiled as you giggled, blushing you admire him. How he looked so adorable with the flower in his hair, "How do I look, y/n?"

"You look awesome, my love..." you say, making him blush as you kissed his cheek, "You always do..."

"Doll, you're gaining on me..." he says with a short laugh as he kissed your knuckle, making you blush in return... He pulled you closer to him, making you lean on his shoulder.

"I love you, Bucky..." you sighed as your walking slowed down, slowing him along with you...

"I love you more, my doll..." he says kissing you softly under the lights of Japan and its cherry blossoms.

Japan was the witness of you and Bucky's love. From that night on, let's just say it became the beginning of the best 2 week vacation ever.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this fic... It took me a while to make and it's probably the longest fic I ever wrote. I am a Tourism student so this is near my heart while I wrote it. I also hope I got things right heheh... I am sorry for not having a page break. Stay safe

-Alri

Taggies 💕

@witchymegg @amisutcliff @theaussiedragon @luna4501 @likeit-or-leaveit

#avengers #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes soft core smut #winter soldier #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #quarantine writing #chris evans #robert downey jr #japan au #travel au #vacation au #marvel #mcu #smut and fluff #flirting #Japan Travel #bucket list

[ratwrites]

Lies In Paradise 2/2

Requests.

Masterlist.

Prompt/s: "I don't need a babysitter."

Summary: Sam stays with (Y/N) after the Jinn attack.

Warnings: Lil angst? Fluff

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Word Count: 3,987

A/N: Not gonna lie I totally lost interest in this ;-; So this is just a little quick happy ending thing. I'm working on some other things to get my creative juices flowing. Trying to write through my block

[[MORE]]

I carried her outside panic clenching hard on my heart while guilt tugged at my gut. This my was fault... I shouldn't have let her go alone. She was limp in my arms as I carried her to the impala. I glanced back spotting Dean close behind me. In one arm he held a young boy and in his other was a girl about her size. The boy was wide awake while the girl seemed a little out of it. I carefully opened the back door letting Dean slide his load in first. I didn't want to let go of her.

"Come on Sam, we've got to get them to the hospital," Dean growled. I convinced myself to let go setting her in the back seat. The other girl gently laid her across her lap. I gave her a nod of thanks before closing the door and getting into the passenger seat.

.

I sat in the hospital waiting room with Dean. My arms rested across my knees allowing my head to hang. My mind was racing. I shouldn't have let her go alone. I ran a hand through my hair the panic still holding onto my heart. I couldn't calm down. "Dylan?" My head shot up. Dean and I jumped out of or seats and headed toward the doctor.

"How is she? Is she alright?" I asked, nervously.

"And how are the kids?" Dean added.

"They're all doing fine. You found them just in time. If your friend or the girl would've lost anymore blood there would be nothing to help them," he explained, calmly. I let out a sigh of relief my heart relaxing a little.

"Their parents have been called. Thank you both," the doctor added, bowing his head.

"May we see her?" I questioned, running a hand through my hair again. The doctor nodded before walking away. We followed after him until he stopped outside her door.

"You check on her, I'm going to check on the kids," Dean said. I nodded and went into her room. To my surprise she was awake.

"Hey Sam," she rasped, turning her head toward me.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, coming to her bedside. I stood only for a moment before pulling a chair over. She coughed, looking away for a moment.

"Little tired, but I've had worse," she chuckled, roughly. Her voice was weak and hoarse. I frowned slightly.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Don't start." She cut me off. I tilted my head in confusion.

"It isn't- your fault Sam," she said. I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut me off.

"I let my guard down when I saw the girl. That was my mistake," she explained.

"But I-"

"Sam, I went alone because I wanted to. It isn't your fault. I can see it in your eyes- you're blaming yourself... And you don't need to," she finished. I breathed in to speak again but silenced myself as her hand gently rested over mine. Without thinking I shifted intertwining our fingers.

The softest smile I'd ever seen crossed her perfect lips. The panic left me and was replaced with warmth. I stroked her thumb with mine taking a monent to scan my gaze over her face. She was paler than she normally was, but the color was slowly returning to her cheeks and face. Her eyes sparkled even through the dull color that currently occupied her eyes. Her smile held sending butterflies into my stomach. Only one person had ever made me experience such happiness in the roughest times. My heart sank slightly. She was another fine example of how people got hurt around me. I slowly released her hand looking away.

"It's funny... The Jinn showed me everything I've ever wanted.." She huffed, looking up at the ceiling. I turned my gaze back to her.

"What did it show you?" I asked, curiously. She let out a puff of laughter.

"I had my family.. I was married and I lived a normal life as an art teacher..." She sighed, sadness crossing her expression. I stayed silent.

"I had everyone.. My sister, my brothers, my dad, Dean..." She hesitated. "You."

I raised my brows in surprise. My curiosity continued to grow as did my hopes. I'd tried to bury the feelings I had for her, but everytime I thought I was in the clear she'd do something else to remind me of how perfect she was. I'd wanted to tell her for a long time, but I couldn't.

"We had a dog," she added, laughing again. My ears caught at we. We? What did she mean we? When she says married.. Did she mean us? I tried to clear my head. Her eyes met mine and I held it.

"I wanted to stay honestly.." She murmured, looking away her smile fading.

"I had everything I ever could've had..." The question pushed at me.

"Why didn't you?" She looked back at me catching my gaze again.

"I-" she looked away for a moment before catching me again.

"I saw a little boy... When- when I grabbed him I heard..." she hesitated.

"Heard what?" I encouraged.

"I heard you.. Yelling for me.." She continued. My heart stopped.

"I could hear you for a split second calling out to me..." I didn't know what to say so instead I waited.

"I couldn't leave you, which is ironic because you tried to stop me from going too," she huffed. I couldn't help myself as I reached forward taking her hand in mine once more. She squeezed my hand lightly. Her face was sad and it broke me.

"Plus, apparently Dean didn't give me my bracelet and I couldn't live without that damn thing," she giggled, trying to lighten the mood. The sadness on her face only faded a little.

"Damn right you couldn't. You never take it off for christ sake." Dean's voice startled me. I wasn't sure how long he'd been there, but I didn't really care. He came to stand next to me resting a hand on my shoulder. I didn't let go of her hand and she didn't pull away.

"How are ya kid?" Dean asked, calmly.

"I've been better," she said, coughing briefly. Dean chuckled.

"Both of the kids are going to be okay. The little boy is actually going to be discharged in the morning. The Jinn barely got anything out of him before we got there," Dean explained, looking back at the door.

"What about the girl I saw when I got there?" She questioned, sitting up a little more.

"She'll be released in a week or so, but we can get you released now if you want," Dean replied. She let out a sigh of relief.

"Get me the hell out of here. I hate hospitals," she pleaded. I frowned looking up at Dean.

"Maybe that isn't such a good idea. We've got a long drive ahead of us and you need to rest," I countered. She frowned playfully at me.

"I can sleep in the car, plus, isn't there an angel back at the bunker?" She corrected. She had a point. Cas could definitely get her back on her feet in a matter of seconds.

"I'll go get the discharge papers then," Dean said, before wandering out of the room. I turned my full attention back to her looking her over again.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You shouldn't really be up and about so soon." I was concerned about her. She rolled her eyes.

"Help me sit up, will you?" I stood from the chair pushing it aside. I gently reached behind her splaying my hand along her back as she began to sit up. My other hand was braced on her shoulder to steady her. She seemed to tense under my touch which was odd. She shifted with a grunt swinging her legs off of the bed. A nurse entered the room with Dean on her heels. The nurse frowned, but began to unhook her from the machines, silently. I stepped aside taking my place next to Dean.

"Are we sure about this?" I questioned, glancing at my brother.

"She said she wanted out so that is what we're doing. I agree Sam, she shouldn't be going anywhere, but I can remember being in her position and I didn't want to be stuck in a bed either," Dean replied, eyeing her.

"Your clothes are in the drawer miss, and the bathroom is just over there," the nurse instructed. She nodded in response digging out her clothes. Instinctively I moved to her side gently taking her arm and helping her toward the bathroom. Once inside I stood in the doorway.

"You gonna stand there or close the door?" She spoke, drawing me from my blank state. My cheeks flushed a light shade of pink as I backed up closing the door. I sighed and walked back over to Dean.

"I hate it," Dean said, suddenly. I glanced over at him giving him a confused look.

"She shouldn't of had to go through that. Coming out of a Jinn's trance is hard," he explained.

"She shouldn't have gone alone. You should've gone with her," Dean continued, blame evident in his voice. The guilt bit at my gut again causing me to look down at my feet. The bathroom door opened drawing my glance. She was wearing the same clothes that were dirty from the warehouse. Dean approached her offering her his arm.

"Shall we?" She hesitated casting a weary glance my way before reluctantly taking Dean's arm. He began to lead her and I followed behind at a sulking pace.

.

The drive back to the bunker was quiet. She'd fallen asleep about an hour in which gave Dean time to call Cas. I stared in the side mirror watching her sleep behind my seat with her head rested against the cool window. Her face held the same expression it did when we found her. I looked away watching the road ahead as we pulled into the bunker's gravel driveway.

Dean drove the impala into the garage parking it. I unbuckled and reached over the seat resting a hand on her knee. I shook it gently. I swiftly let go as she shot up from the window with a gasp.

"Whoa easy," Dean said, looking back at her. We got out of the car and I helped her. She leaned against me as we walked allowing me to guide her steps.

"You okay?" I asked, gently. She didn't answer only leaning harder against my side. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder keeping her safely locked against me as we walked. I understood her silence. I'd learned the hard way not to push the matter if she didn't want to discuss it.

Cas met us at the entrance to the library taking her from my side and sitting her down in one of the wooden chairs.

"Can you heal her?" Dean questioned, knowing full well that Cas could. Castiel nodded.

"I'd like to look at the full extend of what the Jinn did to you if that's alright," Castiel began, placing his hand on her forehead. She nodded her approval closing her eyes. We watched in silence as a dim light glowed from his palm. I could make out the movement of her eyes under her eyelids. Cas was reading her. Her grip on the chair tightened suddenly before her eyes shot open with another gasp. Castiel pulled his hand back. I took a worried step forward, but paused. Their eyes met and a sympathic look crossed Castiel. Cas sent me the same glance for a moment rising more questions in me. What did he see? Why did he look at me? What scared her?

"Relax for me again," Castiel ordered. With a shaky breath she closed her eyes again. Castiel repeated the same movements except this time the color returned to her face and cheeks. He backed off again and her eyes opened. Their bright color had returned as well.

"You should get some rest. You may feel unwell for a day or two," Castiel suggested. She yawned clearly not going to argue.

"Cas, can I talk to you?" The angel looked toward Dean and nodded before following him out of the room. She stood from the chair swaying a little on her feet. I didn't ask as I took my place at her side again offering her my arm to help her walk. She took it without hesitation.

I walked her to her room and opened the door for her. I helped her to her bed sitting her down. I had to try.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, quietly. She shook her head before lying herself down. I took that as my cue.

"If you need anything I'm just down the hall," I offered. She didn't respond. I left her room closing the door behind me. Castiel met me outside my own room which was just down the hall from hers.

"Sam, it would be wise to give her some space," Castiel encouraged.

"After what she has gone through and what she has seen it would be unwise to push your presence on her," he added, almost as if he was threatening me. I let out a sigh.

"Can you tell me what she saw?" My mind replayed the things she had said in the hospital, but I still had unanswered questions bouncing in the back of my mind. He shook his head firmly before walking away. I went into my room closing the door. I was tired. I dropped stomach first onto my bed not bothering to make myself comfortable as I very quickly drifted off.

.

I jolted awake to a loud cry and a thud. I snatched my gun from under my pillow and ran from my room searching for the noise. My eyes were tired with sleep, but I forced them open alarm going through me. The cry sounded again signaling that it was from her room. I moved swiftly and quietly down the hall my gun drawn and ready. With one movement I opened her door. In the dark I could make out her form on the floor sitting with her legs drawn up to her chest.

I entered the room sitting my gun on her dresser. I dropped down in front of her and reached out for her. She jumped and scrambled back for a moment. I could make out the fear glazing her eyes. "Hey, hey, it's just me, you're-" I grunted as she lunged forward her arms sliding around my neck. Her face buried itself between her arm and my neck. I stayed on my knees wrapping one arm around her lower back and the other across her shoulder blades. Her body trembled against me. I pressed my face into her shoulder rubbing my thumb against her lower back.

I didn't speak as I held onto her taking in the moment. She'd never clung to me like this before and it was odd. After a few minutes she slowly began to let go. I didn't want to, but I followed her lead. I stood up helping her back onto her feet. She sat on the edge of the bed taking her face in her hands. I stood in front of her staring down at her.

"Are you okay?" I asked. Shock washed over me again as she reached out and gripped my shirt pulling me to stand between her parted legs. She wrapped her arms around my lower back burying her face into my shirt. I hesitated for a moment before letting my arms fall on her shoulders tucking her closer. She shook her head against me giving me an answer to my question. I rubbed circled into her left shoulder blade hoping to calm her down. She was still shaking against me.

"I keep seeing it..." she muttered, into my shirt. She pulled back letting go of me. I followed. Her eyes met mine.

"I keep- I keep seeing it everytime I close my eyes..." she repeated. I placed myself next to her on the bed positioning myself so that I was facing her.

"Seeing what?" I asked.

"All of it... The life, the people... the escape." A chill ran up her spine at the last words. I stayed silent showing her that she had my full attention. She gulped avoiding eye contact.

"Everytime I close my eyes I see my family, my dad and my sister.. And I keep seeing your mom and dad... Along with you and Dean," she began. I was surprised that John and Mary were in this, but I didn't say anything.

"I keep seeing my sister happily married to.." She paused the anticipation of her answer tugging at me.

"To Dean..." I raised a brow.

"I keep seeing..." she paused again looking in a different direction.

"It's alright," I encouraged, carefully taking her hand in my own. She squeezed my hand a little.

"Us.. I keep seeing us," she said, finally. I tilted my head. Her gaze suddenly met mine in an intense stare.

"We were married Sam," she blurted, tears stinging her eyes. My own eyes widened in surprise my grip on her hand loosening.

"Oh God..." She choked. She stood up pulling away from me.

"I tried so desperately not to... but after I saw that, I can't just forget," she continued, turning to face me. I didn't move from the bed still shocked by her words.

"We were so happy Sam... and I- and I gave it up," she sobbed, turning her back to me again. I slowly stood realization hitting me. She left because of me. She had the perfect life with everything, yet she left it to come back to me.

"You begged me not to go... But I couldn't. He wasn't Sam, he was just- just a dream." Her voice cracked causing my heart to clench.

"So I-" she paused again. I took a few steps toward her. Her hands came up to rest near her collar bone.

"So I slit my throat.." My heart dropped. Dean hadn't ever told me how he managed to wake up from the trance. I suppose when you die in a dream you wake up. She turned to face me once more her head hanging low and her shoulders trembling with each sob. I came forward until I was in front of her again. I reached out and pulled her close trapping her against my chest. Her hands stayed curled between our bodies as she cried.

The feelings I had buried were surging back tenfold. Her fingers tangled into the fabric of my shirt. I continued to rub circles into her back until she relaxed her sobbing calmed down.

"What's going on?" Dean's voice suddenly called. She pulled back from me looking at Dean who stood in her doorway.

"I- I had a nightmare, that's all," she muttered. Dean's cold stare met mine.

"You okay? I know it can be rough after something like that." Dean stayed at the doorway.

"I'm fine." she defended, taking a step back. Her body brushed against mine.

"Best thing to do is to go back to sleep. Yes, you'll probably have another nightmare, but the more you sleep the faster it wears off," Dean explained.

"I can stay with you if you'd like?" Dean suggested. She turned and walked away from the two of us sitting down on her bed. I turned my back to Dean watching her.

"I don't need a babysitter," she warned, looking away from us. I glanced back to Dean who was staring daggers into my back.

"Alright, if you need anything yell." Without another word Dean left. My heart ached for her. Dean was her best friend, yet she was pushing him away. The silence in the room was overwhelming. I had so many questions and so many things I wanted to say, but when I opened my mouth all of those words stayed trapped in my throat.

"Dean's right... I should just go back to sleep," she muttered, looking down at her feet.

"You need to rest anyway, Cas said you shouldn't be up and about for a few days," I agreed.

"I- I'll let you-"

"Please don't leave me," she whined, her head shooting up to look at me. I stared at her for a moment. She'd told Dean she didn't need someone to watch her, yet she was asking me to stay.

"Please." Her voice was so soft. My mind trailed back to what Cas had said to me. He'd warned me to stay away. Screw him. As I walked back to her bed she slid further onto it making herself comfortable on her side. We'd slept in the same bed pleanty of times, but this was different. I sat on the bed leaning my back against the headboard. She moved closer almost snuggling herself against my leg. After a moment I couldn't contain myself. I slid down onto my own side facing her. She flipped the covers over me trapping our bodies under them.

"You don't- have to do this... I understand if what I told you..." She paused.

"If what you told me...?"

"Makes you uncomfortable." She thought that I didn't care about her. She thought that the feelings she had were one sided.

"No, no it doesn't." I had to reassure her. I scooted closer pulling her to me. I draped one arm over her side locking her in.

"I'm glad you told me," I murmured, catching her weary gaze.

"I know with this job, this life, we are supposed to keep the ones we love far away. We can't afford attachments... But I can't keep you away. I can't keep pretending like these feelings... These feelings don't exist," I admitted. Her eyes widened.

"You aren't the only one who has been burying things.." I finished. The silence that fell between us was comforting. Our eyes never left each others.

"Sam I-" she hesitated. I opened my mouth to question, but was stunned to silence as she suddenly moved capturing my lips with hers. Butterflies exploded in my stomach causing me to kiss back. My eyes slid closed allowing myself to take in everything. I'd wanted this for a long time. She shifted her position keeping us together as she pushed my shoulder. I followed her silent comand and rolled onto my back taking her with me. Her upper body rested on mine her arm bracing herself on my chest.

Our kiss finally broke leaving both of us breathless. I opened my eyes to look up at her. Her hair hung down over her shoulders almost touching my face. I reached up brushing a section of it behind her ear. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead causing me to lean upward into it. She moved back shifting her position until her head rested over my heart. I let one arm slide further up her back holding her close against my side. One of her hands lightly gripped the fabric of my shirt while the other took my free hand intertwining our fingers. I could've sworn I was melting under her touch. She snuggled closer causing my heart rate to flutter. She giggled tiredly her ear resting directly over my heart. "Relax Sam, I don't bite," she yawned. My cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"You should try and sleep," I mumbled.

"I'm trying, but your voice is rumbling my entire head," she pouted. I couldn't help but chuckle. She raised her head for a moment giving me a playful glare before laying her head back down.

"Thank you for staying with me Sam.." She yawned, taking one last moment to cuddle against me.

"Anything for you," I replied, letting my own eyes slide closed.

Forever Taglist:

@rosierosieelain   @xaviersmutcnt @raindrops-on-roses142

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E6; Chapter Six, The Monster - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘠/𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘌𝘭𝘴𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘰𝘺𝘤𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣’𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴.

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Joyce and Hopper sat opposite one another at the kitchen table of the Byers' home. The house was cold and hardly lit, copies of newspaper clippings scattered all around the house. One of the only light sources was a dusty chandelier that hung from the kitchen ceiling above the table and their heads, illuminating the several papers.

"Look, we gotta go through this again." Joyce insisted.

"I told you everything that I saw."

"Oh, gosh," she sighs into her hands. "Tell me again."

"Upstairs or downstairs?" Hopper asked.

"Upstairs."

"There was a laboratory. It was where they must do experiments or something, and then there was... well you see, like I said, I got turned around."

Hopper was currently sharing all he had encountered on his rogue mission at Hawkins National Laboratory. Joyce, all the while was hanging on his every word.

"I told you, it was like, I don't know, it wasn't supposed to exist. That whole area, it was abandoned and... forgotten, like it was all some big mistake. Once I found my way back, I saw that... kid's room. That other kid's room, I mean. Like it was actually used, but it didn't even look like a kid's room, neither of them did. It looked like a prison."

Hopper sighed and rubbed the bottom of his palms into his eyes tiredly, is fingers held the lit cigarette inches away from his face as he did so. "If that even makes sense,"

"Well," Joyce began, trying to get to the bottom of this never ending mystery. "So why would you think it was a kid's room, then?"

"Because, I told you, the size of the bed, there was a drawing, there was a stuffed animal--"

Joyce interrupted the man quickly. "Y-You didn't say there was a drawing."

"Yeah, there was a drawing of a... an adult and a child. It said 'Eleven' on it."

"Was it good?" Joyce pressed.

"It was a kid's drawing, Joyce. It was stick figures."

Joyce had a knowing look on her face as she stood up with a sigh, retrieving a piece of crinkled line paper and slammed it down on the table for Hopper to see.

She pointed to the detailed drawing as she sat back down.

"Wasn't Will." She stated confidently, shakily bringing the cigarette back up to her lips.

Hopper examined the drawing and everything seemed to click. He returned his gaze to the anxious mother. Hopper quickly put out his cigarette in the ashtray and made a beeline for the coffee table.

"Earl..." he muttered, as he made his way into the living room. Joyce, who had abandoned her cigarette, was right on his heels.

"The night that Benny died, Earl said he saw some kid with a shaved head with Benny," Hopper and Joyce took a seat beside one another on the living room couch, Hopper's eyes fixed on the several news clippings splayed along the wooden coffee table. "Now, I pressed him, he said it might be Will, but maybe..."

The man began shifting through the papers, and Joyce spoke up.

"Wait... Maybe, it wasn't?"

Hopper pulled the article he had been looking for and pointed to the fuzzy photograph of the woman in the article.

"Look... this woman, Terry Ives, she claims to have lost her daughter, Jane. She sued Brenner, she sued the government... Now, the claims came to nothing, but what if... I mean, what if this whole time I've been... I've been looking for Will... I've been chasing after some other kid?"

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Everything is a mess.

Will is still missing, the party is falling apart, Mike and Lucas are still angsty messes that won't speak to one another, and now, El left us. She probably thinks I hate her.

'But I don't! I was just scared'

(Ok but like,,,, who else ships El and reader cause damn I've been giving myself feels lately, dang)

'We need to fix this'

I sigh and sit up from my bed and make my my way to Dustin's room.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"I just... I can't believe she didn't come back." Mike sighed.

Dustin and I agreed we needed to talk some sense into the rest of the party. So we got our bikes and made our way to Mike's. Dustin was standing opposite Mike while I currently occupied one of the D&D chairs I had pulled up. Mike was worriedly pacing the floor in front of us.

"She's gotta be close." Dustin offered.

"She said it wasn't safe. She just messed up the compasses because she wanted to protect us. She didn't betray us."

"Mike, calm down."

Mike only ignored Dustin and kept talking, more to himself than anybody it seemed.

"I shouldn't have yelled at her. I never should've done that."

"Mike, this isn't your fault." Dustin said.

"Yeah, it's Lucas'."

"It wasn't his fault, either." Dustin countered softly.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Mike stopped in his tracks. He looked at my brother dumbfounded and took a few steps in his direction. "It wasn't his fault?"

"No."

"So you're saying he wasn't way out of line?"

"Totally, but so were you!"

"What?"

"And so was Eleven."

"That's ridiculous! Y/n, tell him he's being ridiculous!"

Very calmly, I stood up with my arms crossed and stood next to my brother, and sighed, eyes fixed on Mike. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but Dustin is absolutely right."

Mike seemed even more furious. "Oh, give me a break!"

Dustin snapped at these words and stormed up to Mike. "No, Mike, you give me a break! All three of you were being a bunch of little assholes! Y/n and I were the only reasonable ones! But the bottom line is... you pushed first. And you know the rules. You draw first blood..."

"No! No way! I'm not shaking his hand."

"You're shaking his hand." I press, stepping forward.

He was sure to make eye contact with me over Dustin's shoulder as he spoke. "No, I'm not."

So I strode toward him and gave him a slight glare.

"This isn't a discussion. This is the rule of law. Obey or be banished from the party. Do you wanna be banished?" I asked firmly.

Mike crossed his arms and pouted before speaking up meekly. "No."

"Good!" I chirp, my face beaming as if we hadn't just been fighting which seem to only terrify him more.

I all but skipped over to the chair grabbing my coat, Dustin following my actions.

"Where are we going?" Mike asked with a hint of frustration.

"Where do you think?" Dustin asked as he put his arms through the sleeves of his coat.

"We're going to get Lucas." I finished, straightening my jacket then looked back to Mike.

My face softened and I tilted my head slightly. "And then we're gonna find Eleven."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The three of us stood on Lucas's porch and I rang the doorbell. We stood waiting until the door swung open and Lucas stood there glaring at all three of us, but mostly Mike.

"What do you want?" He spit, resting his hands in his pockets.

There was brief silence which was then interrupted by a muffled smack of Dustin hitting Mike in the arm.

Mike sighed softly and looked to Lucas, clearly hating every second of this.

"I drew first blood, so..." he extended his hand for Lucas to shake but Lucas didn't move.

Great. Of course nobody was going to make anything easy. Why would they?

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Somehow I had convinced Lucas to let us all in and now, we all stood in the middle of his living room as he paced silently across the floor considering Mike's offer. He finally stopped and stared at the three of us.

"Okay, I'll shake."

Mike sighed what I barely made out to be a "finally" as he extended his arm out once more. Dustin and I perked up, that was until Lucas continued.

"On one condition. We forget the weirdo and go straight to the gate." He finished, arms crossed defiant.

"Then the deal's off." Mike barked.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"No, no, not fine! Guys seriously?" Dustin yelled, as I threw my head back frustrated.

Dustin forced Mike to face him as he spoke. "Do you even remember what happened on the Bloodstone Pass?"

Lucas and Mike shared a confused glance.

Dustin seemed shocked and offended that they had no recollection and continued.

"We couldn't agree on what path to take, so we all split up the party and those trolls took us out one by one. And it all went to shit. And we were all disabled! So we stick together, no matter what!"

"Yeah, I agree. But this is the party, right here in this room."

"El is one of us now."

"Um, no, she's not. Not even close! Never will be. She's a liar, a traitor--"

"She was just trying to keep us safe! She didn't mean to hurt you. It was an accident!"

"An accident?"

"All right, accident or not... admit it, it was a little awesome." Dustin said.

"Awesome?"

"Yeah, she threw you in the air with her mind!"

"I could have been killed!"

"Would everybody just shut up for one second, please!" I snap.

Everybody looks to me, a shocked expression on their faces.

I step forward and begin my long awaited  rant.

"I am sick of your attitude." I point at Lucas. "I am sick of your whining." I point to Mike. "I am sick of all three of you bickering," I gesture to all of them. "I love you guys and I can't thank you enough for taking me in and including me, know that, but GOD I am tired of being stuck listening to you boys argue about every little thing!"

I myself began pacing, my voice continuously rising. "I'm sick of putting up with all your petty arguing when we should be looking for Will only to come home at the end of the day, having found NOTHING and crying my eyes out because the only person who never gave a shit about who started what is missing and probably dead!"

I stopped pacing and looked to the boys who were all silent. I sighed and lowered my voice. "Lucas, you're right. You could have been killed. Which is exactly why we need her. She is more powerful than all of us combined."

"Y/n's right. Do you seriously wanna fight the Demogorgon with your wrist rocket?" Mike said, anger still in his voice. "That's like R2-D2 going to fight Darth Vader. We're no use to Will if we're dead."

Lucas looked torn for a moment, but then he shook his head and pointed at the three of us. There was disappointment in his voice. "If you three wanna waste your time looking for a traitor, go ahead, 'cause I'm not spending my time on her anymore. No way!"

I sighed, putting my face in my hands. Lucas continued.

"I'm going to the gate. I'm going to find Will."

Lucas shoved the boys aside and stormed off, leaving the three of us alone in more ways than one.

#you'll float queue #stranger things #will byers x reader #reader insert #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #cosmic #y/n henderson #gn!cosmic #x gn!reader #will byers x gn!reader #stranger things x reader #the monster #1x06 #st 1x06

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

S.T REWRITE -S1:E6; Chapter Six, The Monster - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

With Eleven gone, Y/n and Dustin struggle to keep the party together. Elsewhere, Hopper and Joyce uncover the truth about the lab’s many experiments.

||3rd Person POV||

Joyce and Hopper sat opposite one another at the kitchen table of the Byers' home. The house was cold and hardly lit, copies of newspaper clippings scattered all around the house. One of the only light sources was a dusty light that hung from the kitchen ceiling above the table and their heads, illuminating the several papers.

"Look, we gotta go through this again." Joyce insisted.

"I told you everything that I saw."

"Oh, gosh. Tell me again."

"Upstairs or downstairs?" Hopper asked.

"Upstairs."

"There was a laboratory. It was where they must do experiments or something, and then there was... well you see like I said, I got turned around."

Hopper was currently sharing all he had encountered on his rogue mission at Hawkins National Laboratory. Joyce, all the while was hanging on his every word.

"I told you, it was like, I don't know, it wasn't supposed to exist. That whole area, it was abandoned and... forgotten, like it was all some big mistake. Once I found my way back, I saw that... kid's room. That other kid's room, I mean. Like it was actually used, but it didn't even look like a kid's room, neither of them, it looked like a prison."

Hopper sighed and rubbed the bottom of his palms into his eyes tiredly, is fingers held the lit cigarette inches away from his face as he did so. "If that even makes sense,"

"Well," Joyce began, trying to get to the bottom of this never ending mystery. "So why would you think it was a kid's room, then?"

"Because, I told you, the size of the bed, there was a drawing, there was a stuffed animal--"

Joyce interrupted the man quickly. "Y-You didn't say there was a drawing."

"Yeah, there was a drawing of a... an adult and a child. It said 'Eleven' on it."

"Was it good?" Joyce pressed.

"It was a kid's drawing, Joyce. It was stick figures."

Joyce had a knowing look on her face as she stood up with a sigh, retrieving a piece of crinkled line paper and slammed it down on the table for Hopper to see.

She pointed to the detailed drawing as she sat back down.

"Wasn't Will." She stated confidently, shakily bringing the cigarette back up to her lips.

Hopper examined the drawing and everything seemed to click. He returned his gaze to the anxious mother. Hopper quickly put out his cigarette in the ashtray and made a beeline for the coffee table.

"Earl..." he muttered, as he made his way into the living room. Joyce, who had abandoned her cigarette, was right on his heels.

"The night that Benny died, Earl said he saw some kid with a shaved head with Benny," Hopper and Joyce took a seat beside one another on the living room couch, Hopper's eyes fixed on the several news clippings splayed along the wooden coffee table. "Now, I pressed him, he said it might be Will, but maybe..."

The man began sifting through the papers, and Joyce spoke up.

"Wait... Maybe, it wasn't?"

Hopper pulled the article he had been looking for and pointed to the fuzzy photograph of the woman in the article.

"Look... this woman, Terry Ives, she claims to have lost her daughter, Jane. She sued Brenner, she sued the government... Now, the claims came to nothing, but what if... I mean, what if this whole time I've been... I've been looking for Will... I've been chasing after some other kid?"

||Reader's POV||

Everything is a mess.

Will is still missing, the party is falling apart, Mike and Lucas are still angsty messes that won't speak to one another, and now, El left us. She probably thinks I hate her.

'But I don't! I was just scared'

(Ok but like,,,, who else ships El and reader cause damn I've been giving myself feels lately, dang)

'We need to fix this'

I sigh and sit up from my bed and make my way to Dustin's room.

+++

"I just... I can't believe she didn't come back." Mike sighed.

Dustin and I agreed we needed to talk some sense into the boys. So we got our bikes and made our way to Mike's. Dustin was standing opposite Mike while I currently occupied one of the DnD chairs I had pulled up. Mike was worriedly pacing the floor in front of us.

"She's gotta be close." Dustin offered.

"She said it wasn't safe. She just messed up the compasses because she wanted to protect us. She didn't betray us."

"Mike, calm down."

Mike only ignored Dustin and kept talking, more to himself than anybody it seemed.

"I shouldn't have yelled at her. I never should've done that."

"Mike, this isn't your fault." Dustin said.

"Yeah, it's Lucas'."

"It wasn't his fault, either." Dustin replied softly.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Mike stopped in his tracks. He looked at my brother dumbfounded and took a few steps in his direction. "It wasn't his fault?"

"No."

"So you're saying he wasn't way out of line?"

"Totally, but so were you!"

"What?"

"And so was Eleven."

"That's ridiculous! [Y/N], tell him he's being ridiculous!"

Very calmly, I stood up with my arms crossed and stood next to my brother, and sighed, eyes fixed on Mike. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but Dustin is absolutely right."

Mike seemed even more furious. "Oh, give me a break!"

Dustin snapped at these words and stormed up to Mike. "No, Mike, you give me a break! All three of you were being a bunch of little assholes! [Y/N] and I were the only reasonable ones! But the bottom line is... you pushed first. And you know the rules. You draw first blood..."

"No! No way! I'm not shaking his hand."

"You're shaking his hand." I press stepping forward.

He was sure to make eye contact with me over Dustin shoulder as he spoke. "No, I'm not."

So I strode toward him and gave him a slight glare.

"This isn't a discussion. This is the rule of law. Obey or be banished from the party. Do you wanna be banished?" I asked firmly.

Mike crossed his arms and pouted before speaking up meekly. "No."

"Good!" I chirp, my face beaming as if we hadn't just been fighting which seem to only terrify him more.

I all but skipped over to the chair grabbing my coat, Dustin following my actions.

"Where are we going?" Mike asked with a hint of frustration.

"Where do you think?" Dustin asked as he put his arms through the sleeves of his coat.

"We're going to get Lucas." I finished straightening my jacket then looked back to Mike.

My face softened and I tilted my head slightly. "And then we're gonna find Eleven."

+++

The three of us stood on Lucas's porch and I rang the doorbell. We stood waiting until the door swung open and Lucas stood there glaring at all three of us, but mostly Mike.

"What do you want?" He spits, resting his hands in his pockets.

There was brief silence which was then interrupted by a muffled smack of Dustin hitting Mike in the arm.

Mike sighed softly and looked to Lucas, clearly hating every second of this.

"I drew first blood, so..." he extended his hand for Lucas to shake but Lucas didn't move.

Somehow I had convinced Lucas to let us all in and now, we all stood in the middle of his living room as he paced silently across the floor considering Mike's offer. He finally stopped and stared at the three of us.

"Okay, I'll shake."

Mike sighed what I barely made out to be a "finally" as he extended his arm out once more. Dustin and I perked up, that was until Lucas continued.

"On one condition. We forget the weirdo and go straight to the gate." He finished, arms crossed defiantly.

"Then the deal's off." Mike barked.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"No, no, not fine! Guys seriously?" Dustin yelled as I threw my head back frustrated.

Dustin forced Mike to face him as he spoke. "Do you even remember what happened on the Bloodstone Pass?"

Lucas and Mike shared a confused glance.

Dustin seemed shocked and offended that they had no recollection and continued.

"We couldn't agree on what path to take, so we all split up the party and those trolls took us out one by one. And it all went to shit. And we were all disabled! So we stick together, no matter what!"

"Yeah, I agree. But this is the party, right here in this room."

"El is one of us now."

"Um, no, she's not. Not even close! Never will be. She's a liar, a traitor--"

"She was just trying to keep us safe! She didn't mean to hurt you. It was an accident!"

"An accident?"

"All right, accident or not... admit it, it was a little awesome." Dustin said.

"Awesome?"

"Yeah, she threw you in the air with her mind!"

"I could have been killed!"

"Would everybody just shut up for one second please!" I snap.

Everybody looks to me, a worried and shocked expression on their faces.

I step forward and begin ranting to the boys.

"I am sick of your attitude." I point at Lucas. "I am sick of your whining." I point to Mike. "I am sick of all three of you bickering," I gesture to all of them. "I love you guys and I can't thank you enough for taking me in and including me, know that, but GOD I am getting tired of being stuck listening to you boys argue about every little thing!"

I myself began pacing, my voice continuously rising. "I'm sick of putting up with all your petty arguing when we should be looking for Will only to come home at the end of the day, having found NOTHING and crying my eyes out because the only person who never gave a shit about who started what is missing and probably dead!"

I stopped pacing and looked to the boys who were all silent. I sighed and lowered my voice. "Lucas, you're right. You could have been killed. Which is exactly why we need her. She is more powerful than all of us combined."

"[Y/N]'s right. Do you seriously wanna fight the Demogorgon with your wrist rocket?" Mike said, anger still in his voice. "That's like R2-D2 going to fight Darth Vader. We're no use to Will if we're dead."

Lucas looked torn for a moment, but then he shook his head and pointed at the three of us. There was disappointment in his voice. "If you three wanna waste your time looking for a traitor, go ahead, 'cause I'm not spending my time on her anymore. No way!"

I sighed, putting my face in my hands. Lucas continued.

"I'm going to the gate. I'm going to find Will."

Lucas shoved the boys aside and stormed off, leaving the three of us alone in more ways than one.

+++++

(apologies the tag list was not posted originally. It slipped my mind. Sorry lovelies! <3)

Tag List: @fuckwaad @aimee-lucass

DM me if you want to be added!

#stranger things #stranger things rewrite #cosmic #chapter six the monster [pt. 1] #will byers #reader #reader insert #mike wheeler #eleven #jane hopper #Lucas Sinclair #dustin henderson #noah schnapp #you #finn wolfhard #millie bobby brown #caleb mclaughlin #gaten matarazzo #will byers x reader #will byers x you #will byers x y/n #stranger things x reader #x reader #reader insert imagine #imagine #stranger things imagine #self insert fanfiction