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tkwrites · 3 months ago

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Can I Watch? - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Gif from gabelandeskog

Title: Can I Watch?

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Warnings: Smut (18+ only), Mutual masturbation, Vibrator use, Sex with competition, Unprotected sex - p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), Sex with a vibrator, talks of fantasies including thigh riding, edging and anal play, but nothing is done.

Summary: The day after I miss you: When Quinn discovers a vibrator in Sarah’s toiletry bag, it sets them on a course of discovery and pleasure neither of them planned on. After a wild afternoon, they discuss their fantasies.

Word Count: 4,000

Comments: I’ve been working on the Family Reunion snapshot, but it’s just not in a place to be done yet. It’s getting there, but it still needs a lot of work. The ending for this one came to me a few days ago, so I’ve finished it up. A thousand thanks to @aloragrace for looking this over so many times and helping me bring it back to Sarah and Quinn when my ovulation cycle highjacked the keyboard. I’m so glad I stuck to my instinct and kept writing until it was right.

Thank you a thousand times over for your support and love for Sarah and Quinn!

If you enjoyed this Snapshot, please consider commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask about it. Your comments and support inspire me to keep writing!

The video referenced at the beginning of this snapshot is described in Messages.

Can I Watch?

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“Could you grab me a hair tie while you’re in there?” Sarah asked from her perch on the bed.

“Here,” he handed her the elastic as he left the bathroom.

"What's this?" Quinn asked, holding up a dark rectangular thing he'd pulled out of her toiletry bag while rooting around for the hair tie.

Sarah glanced up and tried to sound casual. "It's a vibrator."

"It is?"

"Take the cap off," she said.

"How?"

"Pull the halves apart."

He did and discovered a clinical looking device with a built up sort of funnel on one side.

"What does it do?" he asked, sitting next to her.

"It creates a sucking sensation," she said, feeling her blush finally break through.

"And you thought you might need it this trip?"

Quinn liked to think of himself as a pretty open guy, but she'd never brought a toy into the bedroom before. They generally did just fine. He knew she had them from phone calls and video chats and that damn video she’d sent him in Carolina. He wasn’t sure why she felt like she needed it now.

"Well, It's a travel one, which is why it's so small and inconspicuous, so it lives in my toiletry bag anyway but, I thought you…" she paused, trying to screw her courage up. "I thought you might want to use it on me."

Quinn's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "What?"

"Lots of couples use toys."

"I know, but," Quinn was having a hard time converting his thoughts into spoken words. "Hell yeah, I want to use it on you," he blurted finally, his eyes shining with excitement. "How do you turn it on?"

"Hold down the plus sign."

He did, and the toy jumped to life. When past girlfriends had brought out vibrators, they always caused intense buzzing; this felt more like a gentle flutter. It didn't feel anything like suction.

Reaching over, Sarah picked it up and licked her finger to spread some moisture on the tip.

Quinn watched, enthralled as she pulled his hand into her lap and pressed the opening to the pad of his thumb. He immediately felt the toy engage, creating the sensation she’d promised.

"And you can make it stronger here," she pressed the plus button a few more times, and the suction intensified.

“And you use it?“

“On my clit. Sometimes I use it on my nipples. But with you here I'd rather have your mouth there.”

It even felt good to him. He had no idea how a dude would use it, but the thought had him excited.

"Is this what you used when you sent me that video?"

"No. I used a bullet vibrator that time. That one lives in my bag most of the time. It's more inconspicuous."

"You have more than one?"

"Six or seven that do different things," she said.

Quinn felt his mouth begin to water. He hadn't expected this in the best way.

He met her eyes, his own shining. “Do you have the one you used in that video?”

She nodded and went to fetch it from her backpack.

“This is a vibrator?” he asked. Other than the bright blue color, it looked like a thick tube of chapstick.

When she popped the lid off, it revealed a silicone covered cylinder.

Turning it over in his hand, he found and pressed the button. The toy jumped to life, buzzing more like the vibrators June had.

This one was far more rudimentary, with only the one button that changed the vibration pattern.

“What did you use it on?” he asked as he cycled through the settings, the vibrations shuddering through his fingers.

She laughed as she settled next to him again, “are you trying to recreate it?”

“I listen to that video at least once a week when we're not together,” he confessed. “There's no way I'm turning down a chance to see it. In fact…” he said, a mischievous smile taking over his face, “can I watch you get yourself off with it?”

Her face flushed. “I don't know…”

“Please?” he asked, unable to hide the lust in his eyes. The very thought of it had him breaking into a hot sweat and longing pulled through his stomach.

“I've never done that before.”

“Done what?”

“Masturbated in front of someone.”

“That's not true,” he said, “you do it in front of me all the time.”

“No I haven't.”

“Over FaceTime.”

“That's different. That's mostly about sound, and you're only seeing my face.”

“Please, Sarah,” he said, letting his voice dip into desperation. Now that the possibility was in front of him, he wouldn’t be able to rest until it came to fruition.

She could feel her resistance caving even as they sat there, “okay, but you have to, too.”

“Have to what?”

“You have to get yourself off.”

Like that would be hard.

A sudden thought came to mind, and Sarah smiled a wicked grin of her own.

“What?” he asked, laughing.

“Wanna make a bet?” she asked, quirking her eyebrows suggestively.

“About what?”

“Whoever comes first forfeits decision rites for the rest of the night. Dinner and such.”

It was stupid and simple, but she knew Quinn and his incessant need to win wouldn’t be able to resist the healthy competition.

As proof of her point, he leaned closer. “Deal,” he said, ghosting the buzzing vibrator up her forearm.

Goosebumps rippled over her skin.

When she met his eyes, a smile like she’d already won lit her face, and Quinn found himself wondering if he was setting himself up for failure.

“You can’t stop touching, though.”

“What?”

“It’s only fair if we’re both touching. So you have to keep this pretty hand,” she said, bringing it to her mouth and kissing his palm, “on you cock the whole time.”

His breath stuttered in his chest.

Oh, he was fucked.

Laying back, Sarah watched Quinn's face for grounding. The fascinated, lustful look in his eyes made her blood feel like it was about to boil over.

She brought the vibrator to the top of her sex, nesting it against her clit before turning it on. The toy buzzed to life and her hips tipped toward it.

“What are you doing?” Quinn asked, eyes flicking between her face and the toy in her hands.

Her breath shook as she answered, “I like to start on the clitoral hood. It’s a nice way to ease in and get everything warmed up without being too intense.”

She was holding the toy still, but her hips rocked, moving the tip ever so slightly.

“Do you ever turn it higher?”

“Not until I’m a few rounds in. When I come the first few times, it's too intense if I do, and I have to cycle through all the modes to get back to a comfortable setting. By then, my orgasm is gone, so I just leave it on low and vary the pressure.”

He made a needy, longing noise as he thought about her getting herself off over and over again.

“You're supposed to be getting yourself off,” she reminded, noticing him not touching.

Selfishly, he’d been waiting until she noticed, knowing he wouldn’t last long with her in front of him, spread open and bringing herself pleasure with the object that plagued so many of his dreams.

Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his hand around his cock and started to stroke, fighting to keep his pace torturously slow.

“Quinn,” she moaned.

Though he felt too close to the surface already, he wouldn’t look away. He couldn’t. She was doing this for him. He’d practically begged for it, and he wasn’t about to throw the opportunity out the window over a bet. But he still wanted to win.

“Fuck, Sarah,” he found himself saying, “I wish I was touching you right now.”

She almost told him he could be, but he might take that as an invitation, which would for sure bring her to a crest more quickly. Instead, she goaded him on. “How?”

Two could play at this game. “I want my mouth on you so bad.”

The moan she let out went straight to his groin, and he paused until he got some semblance of control back. “I’ve missed the way you taste.”

Her hips undulated as his name rushed from her mouth. “Oh my god.”

Blinking her way through the fantasy, Sarah’s eyes sought Quinn. Draped over the end of the bed, he had one hand propped under his head so he could watch her, while the other... Her eyes narrowed.

“Your hand’s not on your cock.”

“I’ll come if I keep touching,” he confessed.

“I guess you better learn to restrain yourself, then.”

When he didn't move, she pulled the vibrator away, even though her body begged her not to. “Hand on your cock or I'm not coming.”

His lips pouted down. “But —”

“That was the agreement, Quinn,” she said.

When he didn't immediately comply, she turned off the toy.

He whined.

“It wouldn’t be winning on your part anyway,” she said. “You’re cheating.”

“I am not.”

“You are. You can’t possibly win fairly if you’re not touching.”

“But it takes you longer to build up,” he said, hating the whine in his voice.

“You knew that going in,” she goaded, “it’s not my fault you didn’t think it through.”

He made a pained noise.

“Hand. Cock. Now,” she demanded. When he still hesitated, she asked, “are you really going to deny me my orgasm because you can’t control yourself?”

Well, when she put it that way.

“No,” he admitted, a distinctive whine of defeat in his voice.

“I won’t do anything too mean, I promise,” she said with a wink as the toy buzzed back to life.

That’s what he was afraid of.

He was going to lose. There was no way he’d be able to outlast her. May as well go out with a bang. Stroking his cock faster, he admitted, “I can’t wait to use that on you while you ride me.”

She made a pleasured, desperate noise.

“I’m gonna make you come so many fucking times.”

Feeling that tingling start in her pelvis, Sarah eased the toy back. She needed to send him over the edge. “Yes, you make me feel so good, Quinn.”

His breath choked in his throat. Even the suggestion of her calling him good had him unraveling. He slipped over the edge with a moan of her name.

Relieved to not hold back any longer, Sarah let the vibrator fall against her and rocked her hips. “Quinn,” she whined, “I’m so close.”

Even though his limbs felt like they were made of jelly, he pulled himself to her side, wrapped his lips around her right nipple and sucked, flicking the pebble with his tongue.

She cried out, pleasure surging through her. “Quinn! Oh my - fuck!” Her core pulsed, and she couldn’t wait to have him deep inside her.

Easing the toy away, her whole body flinched against the sensitivity.

“That was so hot,” Quinn rasped, hauling himself up to catch her mouth in a smoldering kiss.

It didn’t take long before her hips were tipping to his, needy once more.

“Are you ready to ride my cock?” he asked, a wicked grin on his face. “Or should I shove this,” he held up the little buzzing toy, “inside you and lick you until you come?”

Hips bucking up, she begged, “both. I want both.”

They fucked and made love, and Sarah ordered him around like he’d always dreamed of. At one point, he had the suction vibrator pulling at her clit as he drilled into her from behind, and Sarah was feeling so much bliss, she could barely hold herself up. She collapsed onto her chest, loving the friction of the bedsheets as her body was pushed and pulled and pushed and pulled with each steady thrust.

“Quinn, I’m gonna come,” she warned, wondering if in her loosened and blissed state, she might finally squirt.

She cried out when the pleasure surged, racing through her veins.

He pulled out and tugged on his length, slippery with her orgasm.

She was just starting to whimper and twitch from the overstimulation when she felt his release paint over her backside.

Tumbling like a felled tree, he landed beside her, and the toy fell away.

Her knees slid out so she lay on her stomach.

A few minutes later, when she hadn’t moved or spoken, Quinn touched her elbow, “that was kind of intense. You okay?”

Turning her face to him, she rested her head on her arms. “Yeah.”

“Yeah it was intense, or yeah you're okay?”

“Both,” she said with a smile. After a small pause, feeling so buoyant in her chest, she thought she might just float away, she added, “thank you for checking in.”

Scooting a little closer, he pressed his lips to the place his fingers had just touched.

She smiled but still didn't make any moves to change position. Usually, she liked to use the bathroom or cuddle right after sex. Looking her over, he realized she couldn't. He'd come all over her ass. Of course she couldn't move.

He convinced himself up to fetch a wet cloth from the bathroom. There was one made of soft microfiber, labeled for makeup removal with the other towels. At least he wouldn't have to use a rough, overly bleached hotel washcloth. He soaked it with warm water before coming back.

Touching a hand to her thigh to let her know he was there, he wiped his release off her bum and hips before tapping her knee.

“Thank you,” she said quietly as she spread her legs to give him more room. A small wincing noise escaped her lips when he swiped between them.

“Sorry,” he said. “Almost done.”

As he went back to the bathroom, his hand gently caressed over her bum and down her thigh, tracing the whole length of her leg. He rinsed the cloth before hanging it up to dry.

Coming back out, he found her standing, a grimace squinting her left eye closed.

He jolted to her side, “are you okay?”

“Yeah. We went from no sex for twenty days to, like, five times in an afternoon. I’m just a little sore,” she said with a small laugh.

“Twenty days, hu?”

“Don’t play coy. I know for a fact that you keep track.”

Laughter burst out of him.

She shut the door to the bathroom, and he pulled on a new pair of boxers.

Sarah smiled, accepting the pajamas Quinn pulled out of her suitcase for her when she came back.

He unabashedly watched her dress as he lay on the bed and held his arms out for her. She immediately snuggled in, resting her head on his chest.

Kissing the crown of her hair, Quinn said, “thank you for doing that for me.”

“Doing what?”

“The whole masturbation thing.”

A laugh snorted from her nose, “it’s not like it was some huge burden on my part.”

Tightening his arms around her, Quinn finally asked, “is there anything you want from me?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, fingers tracing up the center of his stomach.

He had to swallow against the trembling in his chest, “I mean, is there anything you want sexually? Anything you want to try?”

She made a small humming noise that told him she was thinking. While he waited for her response, his fingers traced patterns on her shoulder.

“I want to ride your thigh,” she admitted.

“Is that…is that a thing people do?”

“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to try it, and you have these incredible thighs here,” she said, running her hand up the broad trunk of muscle, “always tempting me.”

“I don’t get it,” he said, unable to stop himself.

“Get what?”

“The whole thigh thing. What’s the big deal?”

“Well, I mean, your thighs are big and strong, and watching you work out?” she paused to bite her lip and let out a satisfied little grunt, “I just think they’re so sexy.”

Her touch became feather-light, and a shiver of pleasure shot all the way to his toes.

“I mean, you like my thighs, right?”

It was true. He did love her thighs. They were soft and curvy and led to one of his favorite parts of her. His thighs, though, were too muscled for the rest of his body — made bigger from all the skating and leg work he had to do for hockey. He’d never imagined a woman would like them because of that.

“You don’t think it would be hot to watch me get myself off on one?” she whispered, her fingers suddenly gripping his left quad.

The muscle seized under her assault, and his breathing hitched.

He nodded, knowing if he spoke, his voice would squeak. God, he should not be getting so worked up over the thought of this.

“Maybe we can try that when you get back home.” Her lips whispered over his neck when she said it.

“We could try it when you come to Michigan,” he countered, not sure he could wait that long. Had they not gone so many rounds already, he would be demanding she do it right then. It was going to plague his thoughts for the rest of the summer.

Her grip loosened, and she smiled when she felt his muscles twitch as her fingers grazed up to his stomach.

“Is there anything you want?” she asked, splaying her hand over his heart as if she hadn’t just turned him on in two seconds flat.

The vast majority of his blood and mental focus were too much in his dick to properly vet his thoughts, so the fantasy just came blurting out, “I’ve been getting myself off to the thought of you edging me.”

“Edging?” she repeated.

“Yeah,” he said, voice gone breathy.

“What does that look like?” Though she’d heard of it before, edging wasn’t something Sarah was too interested in trying herself, and her past boyfriends had all been too vanilla. They’d all considered doggy to be kinky.

“You tying me up.” He’d never admitted this fantasy to anyone before. He loved that no matter what came out of his mouth, Sarah would at least consider it.

“Okay, and?”

“And not letting me come until you say I can.”

“Okay,” she repeated, still a little unsure.

“You can come as much as you want, though,” he said, practically panting at the thought, “in fact, the more you come, the better.”

Now, she understood a little more, “so you just have to watch me come?” she confirmed.

“Yeah, and you like, touch me and stuff, but don’t let me get all the way there.”

“I think I could do that,” she said, “I don’t know that I’ll be all that good at it, but I’d be happy to try.”

A coil of anxiety unwound in his chest.

“You’ll have to tell me what you want.”

He nodded, “I can do that.”

Her fingers began to trace patterns over his chest. The last part of the fantasy was still rolling around his mind. He knew Sarah, who loved and insisted on consent more than any other woman he’d ever been with, would have the most issue with this part of it.

“I want you to order me around,” he said.

“As part of the edging?”

“Yeah, and tell me I’m a good boy when I do it right.”

Making a kind of noncommittal noise, she pursed her lips.

Raising himself onto one elbow, he looked down at her.

She blew a deep breath through her lips, “I’m not gonna lie, that feels really weird to me.”

“What does?”

“The whole good boy thing.”

“If you’re not comfortable with it, it’s okay,” he said.

“I just…I don’t understand. Why would you want me to reduce you to that?”

“To what?”

“To just, ‘good boy,’” she explained, “you’re not a dog.”

Smiling, he leaned down to kiss her. He loved this part of Sarah — respectful and kind, she never wanted to make another person feel less than.

“What if I just tell you you’re doing a good job?” she asked. “Take the boy out of it. Would that be okay?”

His body responded immediately, “that would work.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I liked it when you said I made you feel good earlier today.”

“I did?”

He nodded, “I just want to be good for you.”

“You are good to me, Quinn,” Sarah said, pulling him back down for another kiss. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sarah wondered if Quinn wanted these things because he was so used to chasing the praise of his coaches and teammates.

He made a happy little noise and settled next to her again.

After a minute of laying there, he asked, “is there anything else you want?”

“Oh, I…” Sarah had never felt like this in a relationship. She’d never had someone ask her so openly about what she wanted, but on top of that, she knew whatever she said, Quinn would consider without immediately shooting her down. But it was still vulnerable to say it out loud.

“I’ve kind of always wanted to try…”

His arm tightened around her, reassuring.

“I want to try doggy with something in my ass,” she said, then bit her lip.

Quinn’s chest rose in a steep breath, but his voice was calm when he said, “what kind of something? Like a plug or…”

“I’m not really sure. I haven’t done much research, I’ve just read about it a few times, and it seems like it can be really amazing.”

He made a noise of ascent.

Lifting herself up on her elbow, she asked, “have you done that before?”

Hesitantly, he nodded.

“Did you, I mean, was it okay?”

“June really liked it.”

Sarah blinked a few times, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“She didn’t like oral or cum, but she liked anal play?” Sarah felt a little whiplashed. She’d always assumed June was a prude.

He shrugged. He honestly didn’t know if June disliked receiving oral. He’d never offered or tried, and she never asked.

Settling back against his chest, Sarah’s mind caught on the way he’d answered her initial question. “So did you like it?”

“Like what? The anal stuff?”

“Yeah. It seems like maybe you didn’t?”

A sigh shifted his chest beneath her. “It’s not really that. It was more June. She always wanted to try new, more extreme things, and it felt a bit like she was always chasing this high I could never give her on my own.”

The thought of it made Sarah’s chest tight. “Quinn that sounds awful.” She pushed herself up to kneeling so she could look into his face. “We don’t have to do it. Like I said, I’ve just thought about it. It’s nothing I have my heart set on.”

Quinn smiled a little to himself. How was this beautiful woman even possible? “I know you’re not like that,” he said

“No,” she agreed.

“If it’s something you want, we should try it.”

The love and care that was laid bare in that statement made her heart feel like it might just explode from happiness.

She lay on top of him, “only if we can make love before,” she said. “There’s hardly anything I like more than making love to you.”

As his mouth tipped to hers in a kiss, Quinn felt full to bursting with love. He knew Sarah loved him and wasn’t just seeking the next high, the next thing that would make their relationship bearable, but when she learned his hesitations, she put them to bed anyway.

She’d been open to his stuff so he would be open to hers.

“Want me to order a plug? I could probably InstaCart it.”

Laughter echoed around the room. “Quinn Hughes, you are not InstaCarting a butt plug to our hotel.”

“Why not?” he asked. “We’re here. You want it. You should have it.”

She was touched at his willingness to fulfill this want right away, especially considering his initial hesitation. “I want to do some research before,” she said. Though she’d thought about it plenty, she’d never really looked into the logistics of it.

“Okay,” he said, kissing her forehead, “just let me know when you’re ready and what you want me to get.”

“Right now, I just want you to make love to me before we figure out what we want for dinner.”

“Done,” Quinn said, rolling them over, “but you get to figure out dinner. You won the bet.”

She giggled. “You are the only person I know who can turn losing a bet into a good thing.”

“Its all about perspective, sweetheart,” he said, pressing a few kisses to her neck.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

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cyberrose2001 · 4 months ago

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Under Pressure

MTMTE Rodimus x Reader

GRAHH SURPRISE!!!!

Relic and I have been... discussing... very hard about an ask they got a couple days ago so I wrote this eheh (THANK YOU FOR DISCUSSING THIS WITH ME AND LETTING ME WRITE THIS ILY)

Also please yell at me if I forgot any warnings!

Loosely based of this ask over on @callsign-relic's blog

Warnings: Human reader, Giant/Tiny, Non-Con(?), Nocturnal emission, Crack fic(?)

Word count: 1,887

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Rodimus denies it every time, but he's a heavy sleeper. He snores like a congested rhino; he constantly sets twelve alarms that only barely stir him from his slumber. Despite being captain of the ship, his sleep schedule is far from tip-top shape.

And no, you're not a stalker. You're just Rodimus' observant little 'pet' human, always there, with a California king on his bedside dresser. Yeah, you're treated like royalty by an incredibly hard-to-deny hot alien robot.

So, as the ship ventured further into deep space and the nights got colder, you whined and begged to stay with him.

Rodimus was very hesitant to let you join him in the berth. As much as he cared about you and would kill an army for you, he didn't want to accidentally kill you, which was very much a possibility in any scenario on this ship. But he caved. You had mastered the sad, wet cat look, and Rodimus had the willpower of a rock.

Relishing in victory, you're curled up comfortably against Rodimus' lower plating for the third consecutive night in a row, warmed by the large servo of a sleeping giant. The entire palm of his hand covers your back in subconscious protection, and every so often, you feel a twitch of one digit. It's tranquility and a rare comfort, the touch of another you haven't felt since being on earth.

Until he rolls over.

Rodimus, choking on his snores, flips over onto his stomach and nearly tosses you off the berth if not for the grip he has on you. Despite almost winding you and making an audible 'Oof' sound, he doesn't wake up, his unconscious body assuming another comfortable position.

It takes you a few moments to register what the fuck just happened, but you realise that you're now underneath Rodimus. Almost his entire body weight is now pressed against you and pins you to the berth.

Oh god, you think to yourself.

This is less than ideal; this was not supposed to happen. How the hell are you, a tiny ass human, supposed to get out from under him? You probably shouldn't even be alive right now with how restricted your breathing is, not to mention how hard he flopped on top of you. But thankfully, with how Rodimus' legs have fallen into position, it leaves you with just enough room for your chest to rise and fall.

"God." You whine, muffled as your cheeks squish against his abdominal plating.

Your mind runs wild as you try to think of a way out. Maybe he'll just roll over again soon? God, you hope so; you can handle only so much weight, and Rodimus feels like he could hold down a cargo ship. Probably because he can.

But until then, however long that may be, you need to try something at least.

"Rodimus?" You try to wiggle but to no avail. He has you pinned pinned, and you use what little breath you have to yell out to him, "Hello? Are you awake or what?"

A loud, seemingly exaggerated snore replies to you. He's still deep in recharge, ruining any chance you have of waking him up yourself. You try to use your nails to scratch the surface of his frame, hoping it would tickle him or something, but that doesn't work either.

"Great." You roll your eyes, only you would ever end up in this type of situation. If only you had listened to Rodimus when he first said no, then you wouldn't be currently experiencing a near death experi-

"Y/n..." Rodimus' hoarse voice crackles above you, sending vibrations through your bones.

"Oh, thank god," You sigh in relief. You attempt to wiggle around some more, hoping to get his attention this time, "Listen, can you get off me now? This kinda hur-"

You squeak softly in pain as his sharp pelvis presses against you, and you hear your name again. This time, though, the tone of his voice came out as a whine, like a soft plea.

Because of where you were positioned before you became a pea under a princess' tower of mattresses, Rodimus' lower panels rested right against your stomach. This means you can feel his panels start to bulge slightly.

Oh no, you think to yourself bleakly once again. You're not sure how similar Cybertronian anatomy is to humans, apart from a crude explanation by an engex drunk Swerve. Still, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that you're feeling him getting hard. Putting two-and-two together using two out of the five senses, you've realised that Rodimus is nearly boner deep in a wet dream.

And not to assume, but you're thinking that the star of the show is you.

It's also the wrong time to cackle to yourself about getting crushed by your crush.

You might have some issues to work out after with Rung.

"Oh fuck," You reasonably panic, trying to push against his heavy frame weakly with your pinned arms, "Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck-"

You start to thrash against Rodimus when your arms fail, your tiny body rubbing up against him. This doesn't help at all, you've come to realise but actually digs you in a deeper hole as he begins to rock his pelvis into you.

Rodimus moans your name again as he sleepily grinds against you. Whatever he's dreaming of, it must be an insanely hot pornographic fantasy of you. The bulge grows bigger, pining you down further into the berth. He shutters and lets out a soft groan before his plating shifts, and you feel a very thick, very hard, and very hot object slide up against you.

Oh god, it's his dick.

Swerve might not have told you all the details, but he seemed to conveniently leave out how fucking huge Cybertronian cocks are.

As if you thought this couldn't get any more debilitating, you now have the head of Rodimus' spike pressing against your face. It's as if the Alaskan bull worm had slithered up between yourself and Rodimus to give you a kiss. The behemoth of baggage has already started leaking what you would believe would be the Cybertronian equivalent to pre-cum, smearing all across your face.

At this significant turn of events, you've realised you have come to a crossroads.

Either struggle and continue to wiggle and wrangle your way out from under him, but risk pleasuring him, whether or not he could feel you squirming against him anyway with how small you are compared to it. Or, the more realistic and obtainable outcome, lie still and take it until he wakes up from an orgasm.

Who are you kidding? You don't have much of a choice at all. Both options risk you drowning in alien robot cum. It's wishful thinking as Rodimus starts to rut against your entire body again.

"Y/n..." He whimpers again, though very garbled and unintelligible. Every roll of his hips causes more pre-cum to dribble against your face and down your chest, and with each, it spreads all around in between yourself and his train-sized spike. Making an absolute mess of you.

If you weren't getting humped up against right now, you would indeed find a way to kill him for ruining your only set of pajamas.

"Rodimus-" You gag as a spurt of pre-cum falls into your mouth, "Guh- Rodimus stop-"

His work of venting increases, and so does his rutting. The comatose mech gasps and hitches his breath, oblivious to your cries and pleas for him to stop. He pushes up against you in heated desperation, fucking into your soft body like a grind pad.

"Rodimus! Wake the fuck up!" You start to heat up yourself; the increased pressure and friction of his plating will give you a fucked up version of carpet burn if he doesn't wake up. Sweat drips from your skin, adding even more lubricant to his incessant grinding.

"Wha- Oh, Primus!" Rodimus rears his drool-covered helm and cries out in equal confusion and unrestrained pleasure. He's woken up by his overload as he shoots his load up against you, flooding the minimal empty space left between you both with hot transfluid.

"Oh god-" You couldn't close your mouth in time when a spurt of transfluid hit you in the face, causing you to cough and spit it back out, only for more to splat you in the face.

Rodimus moans tiredly, shuttering violently as his spike pulses and leaks the remainder of his overload against the berth.

Or what he thought was the berth. Since when did he use a self-service mod on his spike? Especially when he shares a room with-

"Hey!" Cough, "Are you done?"

His optics slam open in horrific realisation.

"Oh no," Rodimus rolls over onto his back, his softened wet spike flopping against his abdominal plating, "Oh no, no, no..."

He looks down where he once lay, and his face plates flush a bright blue. Laying in a puddle of his transfluids was you, his little human, sopping wet with a highly unimpressed look on your tiny face.

"Oh Primus, Y/n," Rodimus scoops you up in his servos, gently tossing you from hand to hand as he wrings them off his transfluids, "I am so sorry, I- frag what was I thinking!" Rodimus babbles and holds you to his face, "Are you okay? God, I'm so stupid-"

"Ughh," You lay limply in his palm, exhausted and out of breath, "After that... I don't know anymore."

Rodimus hides his blush with a servo before pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm glad you're okay, but what were you doing down there?"

"Great question," You lift your head up to deadpan him, then eventually drag yourself to sit up. Sticky, pink transfluid drips down your body. Your face, and hair, are all drenched in him, "It's not like you rolled over in your sleep and had me pinned for nearly half an hour. What the hell?"

Rodimus blinks, and his face turns a deeper shade of blue as he rubs the back of his neck, "Oh, so that's why I had that dream about you..."

Is he serious right now?

"Oh, you think?" You wipe your lip when it starts to drip into your mouth, "I think I could tell when you started moaning my name in your sleep."

"Well, you're just so tiny and soft and-" The red and yellow mech bites the knuckles of the servo not holding you in embarrassment. "But what was I supposed to do, huh? Hold it in?"

God, he is.

"I'm literally gonna kill you, Rodimus." You shiver, his transfluids cooling against your skin. You can't believe he dares to look you in the eye, "I am never begging to nap with you ever again, or maybe at least warn me next time."

"No offense taken," Rodimus nods in agreement for once, watching you wring your hair out, "I'm sorry, Y/n, I really am. I can help clean you up? As a sincere apology from yours truly?"

"As long as I don't come into contact with more of this stuff," You flick a bead of transfluid off your finger into his direction, "And you better be sorry, or it'll be a long time before I might actually let you fuck me."

"Wait, you'll what-" Splat, "EWUGH!!"

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers mtmte #mtmte #mtmte x reader #mtmte rodimus #transformers x human reader #mtmte rodimus x reader #human reader #x-reader #valveplug #cyberrosewrites

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cherrygirlfriend · 2 months ago

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kook!reader camping with bf!pope heyward

warnings: fluffy smut, loss of virginity, awkwardness but in a sweet way, praise, MDNI i really wanted to write something sweet but also smutty and i got this idea a few days ago ,,, also as someone who was a girl scout for six years pope being a former boy scout is canon in my heart. anyway i'm definitely gonna write more kook!reader x pope bc i love their dynamic sm … currently planning a moodboard for them

when pope's great idea for your birthday was to take you camping, to say you were reluctant would be an understatement, especially since your initial plan was to lose your virginity on said day, and the thought of sleeping in the middle of some forests surrounded by mosquitos and god knows what kind of wild animals wasn't exactly your idea of a "romantic evening."

you couldn't help it, you had always been a planner, and when pope had brought up the idea of camping with you for your birthday, you had subtly tried to tell him it wasn't something you were too interested, but the boy seemed so sweetly clueless about it, you didn't want to burst his bubble of excitement, especially when he showed you the camping gear he'd dug up from his storage from his days as a boy scout.

so, you just decided to try and make it as romantic as possible. your parents had conveniently misplaced one of their expensive bottles of wine, which had somehow ended up in your trunk, and you had purchased a new lingerie set as well as condoms, wanting to make sure you were prepared.

you were pacing around your bedroom, your duffle bag having been packed with the things you'd need; you didn't know why you were nervous, it wasn't like you'd never done anything sexual, and more often than not, your heated makeout sessions in your bed ended up with his hand in your panties or his cock in your mouth.

but the thing was... he had no idea that you were a virgin. sure, you had boyfriends before him, but most of the time things stayed strictly hand-or-mouth zone. but honestly, the moment you two drove to the nearby cliffs and he told you about the different constellations, you were ready to jump him right there, but you didn't want to give him the wrong idea, so you simply adored him while the boy pointed out the stars to you. however, after a few weeks of dating, he drunkenly told you about how he'd only slept with one person, and was kind of worried that you were more experienced, which you found adorable.

but, when you finally heard your doorbell ring, you took a deep breath, and tried to calm yourself down before having to face your boyfriend and have the boy realize that you had just spent the entire morning overthinking a simple camping trip.

"are we going where i think we're going?" you asked pope, the boy driving your car, having nicked your sunglasses off the dashboard, now covering his eyes, and to be fair, they looked much better on him than they did on you.

"damn, have i already lost the ability to surprise you?" he chuckled, making you roll your eyes playfully, the boy taking your right hand into his and pressing a kiss onto it, "we are. but i have a surprise for you waiting there."

honestly, i should've known that the place he was taking me was the location of our first date even before he turned the car on; he wouldn't really admit it, but there was a part of him that could be incredibly cheesy, and you liked that about him. most of the guys you'd dated before him hadn't been nearly as thoughtful as pope was, and even though you'd only dated him for a few months, he'd been more considerate than some boyfriends you'd been with for close to a year.

it wasn't long until the two of you arrived near the cliffs where you'd had your first date, pope taking your hand into his as you traipsed through the woods, the boy much more comfortable in the terrain that you were, and whenever you were about to trip, he steadied you, trying not to laugh.

you gasped when you finally realized what pope's surprise was, when you noticed a tent perched close to the cliff, overlooking the water. the two of you walked closer to it, and that was when you realized that pope had put up fairy lights all around the tent, and there was a blanket that stretched all the way over to the cliff so you could sit there and look at the stars like you'd done on your first date.

"do you like it?" he asked, as he wrapped his warm arms around you, and you looked up to him with a smile, nodding eagerly, the sight in front of you causing your heart to clench in your chest. "i love it."

"how many times do i need to tell you to blow on it?" pope laughs, almost doubling over on the blanket as he just watched while you struggle with the s'more, letting the gooey confection fall onto a plastic plate before you took a large chug of wine from your plastic cup, the liquid now lukewarm.

you'd spent the day swimming, watching while pope surfed, playing cards, and simply talking, now he was blowing onto your s'more, while the two of you sat on the blanket on the cliff, and as you felt the wine starting to warm you up, the last thing you cared about was your damn s'more, but you also didn't know how to initiate, the boy always-

"i wanna have sex."

before you could think about your wording any more, it just... slipped out, pope's eyes widening as he let out a cough, nearly choking on his wine as he processed your words. "what?" he asked in between coughs, and you waited for him to start coughing before repeating yourself.

"i wanna have sex. with you, if that wasn't clear." you said, clearing your throat, "that came out... more straightforward than i intended." you said with a small smile, feeling your cheeks warm up as you looked down at the ground.

"are... are you sure?"

"yeah. i mean, i've wanted it for a really long time, but i suck at initiating any of that stuff, and i haven't ever done it before so it's probably gonna be awkward and if you don't want to, that's also fine and i can definitely wait even longer but-"

before you could babble any longer, pope pressed his lips on yours, and somehow his kiss could make you forget everything you were thinking about, your focus only on him as he pulled you closer by your waist, hunger evident in every move he made as if he hadn't just eaten three s'mores, his lips tasting of the red wine you'd been sharing.

he pulled away from the kiss, the palm of his hand moving to cup your cheek, "i'd love to, but... are you sure? like... absolutely sure? you really haven't... done it before?"

"i'm more than sure." you say, your voice weak from the effect his kiss had on you, "i've known pretty much from the first time you kissed me right here. you're... just the sweetest guy i know. you're so smart, and... i've never liked anyone as much as i like you."

"you're adorable." he says as he tugs a strand of hair behind your ear, "i, uhh... i just don't have any..." pope clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck, and although you didn't know it, he was internally cursing himself for not accepting the condom jj had offered him earlier. "protection, y'know."

"i do."

pope almost let out a chuckle at how fast you had rebutted his words, the boy watching as you pulled out a condom from your purse, pressing his tongue against his cheek. "you came prepared, huh?" he couldn't help but grin, his amusement only heightening when he saw the pout on your face, the boy pressing a small kiss on your lips, "i think that's cute."

it wasn't long until the two of you were tangled on the blanket under the stars, pope's shirt thrown into the tent, your dress pushed up until it was only covering your breasts, pope kneading the fat of your ass, his lips greedily consuming yours.

he pulled away from the kiss, leaving the both of you panting and breathless, his calloused hands pulling your dress off in its entirety, throwing it into the tent, his lips attaching themselves to your neck while you unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts, one of his fingers slipping into your panties, the boy letting out a small chuckle into the crook of your neck when he felt how wet you were.

when the rest of your clothes were discarded, you watched as he rolled the condom onto his hard cock with a sigh, biting down on your lip as a mixture of eagerness and nervousness rolled around in your abdomen.

"tell me if it hurts too much, or if you want to stop, alright?" he looked at you with raised brows, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips as his chest was pressed against yours, pope brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "i will." you smiled, positioning your hands on his shoulders.

you weren't quite prepared for the loud gasp that he'd pull you from you when only the tip of his cock was in you; sure, he'd prepared you and tried to stretch you out with his fingers beforehand, but even his thick digits hadn't prepared you enough.

"are you alright?" he paused his movements, peppering soft kisses on your neck, "just tell me if you want me to stop."

"i'm okay..." you said breathlessly, "go ahead."

it took you a while to get used to feeling him stretch you out, it definitely didn't help that pope was probably the biggest guy you had dated, but slowly it started hurting less and less, the boy whispering sweet words into your ear as he moved inside of you slowly, your back arching against the blanket, your nails digging into his back every time he bottomed out inside of you, causing him to let out low groans every time he hit that spot inside of you.

"you're doing so well..." he spoke softly, his thumb rolling over your clit, slowly starting to pick up his pace, "taking me so well... don't know how i went so long without you, you feel so fucking good..."

his lips attached themselves to one of your hardened nipples, your mind turning hazy as you tried to focus on all the sensations pope was making you feel, the coil in your stomach growing with every roll of his hips, one of your hands in his hair as you let out a moan, arching into his mouth.

"pope, i'm getting close..." your words were between a mumble and moan, but it seemed that pope still understood what you had said, picking up his pace just slightly so it'd be easier for you to achieve your orgasm.

it wasn't long until you were moaning out his name, overcome with your orgasm as he continued moving inside of you, slowing down his movements as he let you ride out your orgasm.

when pope had come undone himself, he threw the used condom into the trash bag he had brought, pulling you close to his chest as he pressed a kiss on top of your head, covering your naked bodies with another blanket.

"that's cepheus." he said against your hair, pointing up at one of the constellations in the sky while you simply nuzzled closer to his chest, letting out a soft "mmhm..." as you closed your eyes, somehow feeling more comfortable on a cliff in the middle of the forest than you even did in your own bed. "happy birthday."

BONUS: before he came to see you, when pope told his friends about what his plan for your birthday was, jj definitely clapped him on the back and said, "you're finally gonna get laid!" and tried to get him to take a condom with him, but pope just looked at him murderously.

#pope heyward x reader #pope heyward #outer banks #pope obx #pope outer banks #pope x reader #outer banks fanfiction #pope heyward x y/n #pope heyward x you #pope heyward fluff

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luckykiwiii101 · 3 months ago

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hello!! wanted to share some successes I've been having lately!!

- I've been getting compliments for my outfits and for the way I look (it might not seem like much but this is something I used to be really insecure about and after working on my self concept a lot I've been getting a lot more compliments!)

- manifested an interaction with my sp! until now he hadn't spoken to me or even known who i was, but yesterday he randomly came to my class and sat beside me (which is strange because he has other friends in this class and he didn't take this course to begin with). we spoke the whole time and it was really fun!

- manifested clear skin!! i had been having a bad breakout and started manifesting clear skin, and within a week my skin is back to being healthy and clear again

- got a person i used to be friends with to reach out again and tell me they missed me. this wasn't something I was consciously manifesting, it was more just a thought I had from time to time. I'd think about them and picture them randomly texting me one day saying they missed me, and then forget about it later. a few days ago they texted me saying they're really sorry for what went down between us and it was all their fault and they want to be friends again.

- i manifested receiving 1000$ in a day!! i was bored and was thinking about buying some shoes, when I got an SMS stating that 1000$ had been sent to me!! it was from a relative I'm not close with, who said they sent it as an early birthday present (which is wild since my birthday isn't for a few months 😂)

but yeah, it's been SO fun and I've been really lucky i absolutely love it!!

This is amazing!!!😭 And the 1000$ in one day?! damn 😭 i love that for you

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puckbunnyera · 8 months ago

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Second Chance | Arber Xhekaj

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

pairing: arber xhekaj x reader genre: angst, fluff at the end word count: 1.9k warnings: none summary: two months after your break-up, arber comes begging for a second chance

notes: started this a couple of weeks ago and i've finally finished it. the part that took the longest was deciding which hockey player i wanted to use for it.

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

Coming to the game was a bad idea. I knew it from the moment the word yes slipped from my lips, but when Mayah, the bubbly girl that sits next to me in my psychology lecture, asked if I would attend the game between the Montreal Canadiens and Toronto Maple Leafs with her after her friend bailed, I couldn't find it in me to turn her down.

In the day leading up to the game, I convinced myself that everything would be fine. That he wouldn't even know I was there. I'm not quite sure if I jinxed myself or if Karma was playing some cruel joke on me, but the second we made it to our seats, right there in the front row behind the Canadiens bench, I decided it was some sick and twisted combination of the two. Regret began to make itself right at home in my head the second we settled into our seats.

As the two teams make their way out onto the ice to head to their respective benches, the crowd goes wild. The arena fills with the sound of thousands of fans cheering and yelling. However, the sound of my own rapidly beating heart floods my eardrums, replacing the loud screams of the fans, as my eyes drift to him and our gazes interlock.

Arber Xhekaj, defenceman for the Montreal Canadiens of the National Hockey League, known to me as my ex-boyfriend, is staring right at me and there was nowhere I can go to hide.

Once upon a time, he was a man that meant everything to me. He was my whole world. We spent a little over two years in a relationship together, happy and in love. Things were perfect between us, until they weren't. What started as small, petty disagreements that happened here and there became full-on arguments that occurred almost every day. While I was putting in the effort to fix things, he was shutting me out. I pinned all of it on stress and the lack of time we got to spend with each other because of his work and my schooling. I tried to wait it out in hopes that things would return to normal, but eventually, I couldn't do it anymore. I didn't see the point in fighting for us if he wasn't willing to do the same. I've spent the past few months trying to move on and forget about him, and I thought I was doing pretty well. That all came crashing down the moment he noticed me. I suddenly became painfully aware that I was still hopelessly in love with him.

The insistent tapping on my arm is what finally pulls me from our impromptu staring contest. When I turn to my left, Mayah is buzzing with excitement.

"Oh my god! Arber Xhekaj is literally staring at you." She squeals. "How are you not freaking out right now? He is six feet and four inches of muscle and manliness. I would climb him like a fucking tree if given the opportunity."

The ending comment causes a pang of jealousy to flare up inside of me. I push it away as quickly as it appears though. I have no right to feel that way anymore, as we are no longer together. It's a feeling that I don't want to feel again, at least not when he is concerned.

Not able to come up with a response, I shrug my shoulders to express a feeling of indifference and turn to face forward as the announcer's voice floods the arena.

• ───────────────────────────── •

Despite the Habs loss to the Maple Leafs, my body is still filled with adrenaline and excitement as I walk out of the arena with Mayah. I had forgotten how much I loved hockey. It was how I met Arber. When things ended between us, I forgot how much I enjoyed watching the game as I tried my hardest to forget him.

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Thanks for inviting me." I respond. "I think that's the most exciting thing I've experienced in a while."

"Anytime." She smiles. "My Uber is here but I'll see you in class on Monday?"

"Yeah, see you Monday." I wave her off as she climbs into the car waiting for her by the curb.

As I wait for my own ride to arrive, I feel my phone buzz in my hand, alerting me of a text.

From Unknown Number: Hey. Can we talk?

Despite there being no name on the contact, I knew exactly who it was from. I'm about to turn my screen off to ignore it when another message comes through.

From Unknown Number: I know you're seeing this.

From Unknown Number: Please

From Unknown Number: I just want to talk.

All it takes is for that fourth and final message to come through for me to make my decision. I type out a short reply just as my Uber arrives.

• ───────────────────────────── •

A couple of hours later, here I am, standing in front of his apartment door. I'm a ball of nerves as I raise my hand to knock on the door. It only takes two knocks for the door to go swinging open and I suddenly find myself standing face-to-face with the man I swore I would never see again.

"Hey." He greets, voice still as deep and mesmerizing as I remember. "Come in."

I give him a tight-lipped smile as I step past him into the apartment I once considered a second home. He closes the door without a word and then leads me into the living room.

"Do you want some water?" He asks as I take a seat on the couch.

"No, thank you." I reply, trying to keep my voice steady in hopes that I can conceal the emotions that are beginning to rise to the surface. "What did you want to talk about? It's late and I can't stay long."

"I-" He begins before quickly cutting himself off, taking a seat on the sofa opposite of me. He sighs heavily and then tries again. "I miss you."

I freeze instantly at the words that leave his mouth. A mixture of shock and anger forms in my chest. "Arber-"

"These past few months have been hell." He continues. "I know you probably don't believe me, but I'm telling the truth."

"I can't do this." My voice wobbles as I speak, tears welling up in my eyes. I stand up, making a move towards the door. "I...I need to leave. I shouldn't have come here."

"Why?" Frustration is evident in his tone as he quickly follows my movements, grasping my hand to stop me from walking any further. "Why can't you just stay and talk to me?"

"Because if I stay, I might do something stupid." I shake my head, trying to clear the racing thoughts that have taken over. "Like..." My voice trails off, not able to finish the sentence as I attempt to get my emotions under control.

"Like what?" He interrupts, inching closer to me.

"Forgive you," I answer, looking him in the eyes for the first time since I arrived. "Because God knows you don't deserve my forgiveness. Not this easily."

"You're right. I don't deserve it," He nods. "But I want it anyway, because I'm selfish and cruel, right?" He punctuates his question with an audible scoff. Throwing my own words from our last argument at me.

"Don't say that like I'm the bad guy." I bite back. "You were the one that pushed me away like I was nothing when I was the only one there for you." My words are bitter. "I've tried so hard to make myself hate you for the way you made me feel. I tried so fucking hard. Instead, I ended up hating myself for failing so miserably. Despite my efforts, I still fucking love you. And it hurts."

My chest is tight and I'm breathing heavily as I fight back the sob that threatens to leave me. His hand grips mine tighter as he opens his mouth to speak.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am. I know I fucked up. Treating you like that and letting you walk out that door were two of the biggest mistakes I've ever made in my life." He confesses. "I want you. No, scratch that. I fucking need you. And I'll spend every day for the rest of our lives making up for what I did if that's what it takes."

"I waited for you." I whisper as the dam behind my eyes finally breaks, tears cascading down my cheeks. "For two months, I waited for something to change. For you to change."

"I know." His hands lift to caress my face, thumbs gently brushing away my tears. "And I promise I'll never make you feel like that again. I won't take your love for granted ever again."

"I thought you were falling out of love with me and I couldn't take it anymore."

"Never did I stop loving you." He shook his head, a deep frown etched on his face.

"Then what happened?"

"I was scared. You were getting busier with school and I was beginning to travel more. The longer we spent apart the more I began to question the stability of our relationship. I was afraid that, because of my busy schedule and how often I have to travel for the majority of the year, I wouldn't be able to be the type of boyfriend that you need. That you deserve. I convinced myself that it was only a matter of time before you realized that and as a result, I subconsciously began to push you away."

"You could have just talked to me." I sigh. "We could have figured it out."

"I know." He nods. "I wish I could take it back. I really do. If you would just give me a second chance, I'll do better."

"Promise?"

"Yes. I promise."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'll give you another chance, but if you fuck it up, we're over for good."

"I won't." He shakes his head, hands moving to my waist to pull me into him. "You have my word."

"Good." I smile softly, laying my head on his chest.

The room falls silent as we stand in each other's embrace, taking in the moment. After a few minutes, it's Arber that makes the first move to separate us, but only enough to be able to see my face. He stares silently, lips parted as if he wants to say something.

"What?" I question, noticing his hesitation.

"Can I kiss you?" His right hand moves up to rest on my cheek, angling my head up a little more. It takes less than a second for me to respond.

"Please do."

His lips brush mine softly at first, a brief peck to test the waters. He pulls back slightly to examine my face. I'm not quite sure what he is looking for, but whatever he does or doesn't find has him leaning back in. This kiss is deeper, hungrier, more desperate. We stay like this for a while. Melting into each other. Once the lack of oxygen becomes too much, we finally part. Our foreheads remain pressed together, our eyes still closed as we try to catch our breaths.

"I really fucking missed you." He whispers, our lips brushing with every word he speaks.

"I missed you too." I smile against his lips.

"Stay."

"What?" I pull back slightly and open my eyes to look at him.

"Stay." He repeats. "Stay the night with me. It's late anyways. I don't want you going back on your own. So stay."

I take a few seconds to think it over before I respond, nodding my head. "Okay."

Smiling, he steps out of our embrace and intertwines his fingers with mine, pulling me behind him as he begins to make his way down the familiar path to his bedroom.

#arber xhekaj #arber xhekaj imagine #arber xhekaj x reader #ax72 #arber xhekaj fluff #arber xhekaj angst #arber xhekaj fic #arber xhekaj fanfiction #montreal canadiens #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #isa.writes

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rosepetalsinwinter · 9 months ago

Text

Five Years That Felt Like a Millennium (2) — Bucky Barnes

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x reader

Word count: 7,579

Summary: Baby Girl isn't doing too well after seeing Quentin.

Warnings: illusions and mention of violence, abuse, manipulation, and cheating, self-deprecation, fluff, flirting, angst

Note: I apologize for my absence. The response to the first part has been unbelievable! Thank you all so much. I hope I can do it justice.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist │Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Happy Reading! 💜

Bucky didn't know a person could cry so much. Surely, the body must have surpassed a threshold ages ago for maximum fluid expulsion, but it seemed unlikely. Tears ran unbidden down Baby Girl's face, soaking into her white camisole, still wet from the lake. At least her body no longer wracked with sobs, which was a small accomplishment, he supposed.

He filled a glass with cold water. "Here, drink this."

Baby Girl's movements were almost mechanical as she took measured sips, slowly draining the glass. She stared at her reflection in the crystal, then abruptly stood, making Bucky hastily step back. Barefoot and half-dressed, she made for the front door.

Bucky blocked her path. "Where are you going?"

She went around him and reached for the handle, but Bucky intercepted her just in time, pulling her by the wrist. Her eyes were unfocused and wild, darting this way and that. "Hey!" She froze. "Hey," he said again, softer and with considerably less force. "What's going on in that smart brain of yours, huh? What are you thinking?"

"I need to find Quentin," she gulped. "I need to apologize to him. I need to make things right before he—"

She choked on her words, but Bucky knew her enough by now to predict what she would say next. "Before he what? Before he hurts Sam?"

Her face crumpled. "Maybe if I get down on my knees and beg, he'll forgive me, and things can go back to the way they used to be."

Bucky felt his previous anger return. Quentin Beck was a goddamn asshole because, in the span of a few minutes, he had managed to turn a bright and bubbly soul into an inconsolable mess.

"Is that really what you want?" he asked. "You want things to go back to the way they used to be?" Bucky already knew Baby Girl's answer, but he felt it was imperative for her to acknowledge out loud.

"No," she croaked. "Not really, but I don't have a choice. Quentin will hurt Sam and his family."

Bucky wiped the fresh tears from her face, letting his hands linger on her cheeks. "And what about you? He's hurting you. Are you not Sam's family?"

Baby girl began crying anew. Bucky carried her to the couch and held her close, letting her tears run down his bare skin. They sat like that until her breathing eventually evened, and her eyes drooped close. Bucky didn't dare move. Baby Girl was cradled in his arms and against his neck, legs stretched on the couch.

His eyes began to close, sleep slowly taking over, and he was going to let it. They both needed rest after the day's events, but sleep wasn't in his fortune. Bucky's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he startled awake, awkwardly maneuvering around to retrieve it without disturbing Baby Girl.

It was Sam. Bucky glanced down at the sleeping form in his arms. Dried tears painted her face, her eyes were puffy, and her nose red. Bucky's heart lurched in his chest, and he made a hasty decision—promise be damned, Bucky would fix this for her.

He answered the call. "Hey, Sam." And told him everything .

"Sam?" Bucky asked, after Sam had been quiet too long.

Sam sounded wretched with grief. "I knew something was wrong. I just never imagined..."

Bucky sighed, already anticipating the blame game. A family trait, he considered. "It's not your fault. Quentin Beck is to blame, and he will pay for his actions, I promise you." Though Bucky couldn't see him, he imagined Sam nodding his frustration. "Do you think you could get in contact with Congressman Lockhart?"

"Congressman Lock—why?"

"He owes me a favour," said Bucky, not mentioning that he had saved Lockhart's life. "How much are you willing to bet that Lockhart has met Quentin Beck before, and that Beck has probably left a less-than-savoury impression on the Congressman?"

"I don't understand."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Sam."

Sam was impressed. "I'll ask Torres to get us in contact."

Bucky smirked, feeling a satisfaction spread over him at the thought of Quentin Beck rotting in a jail cell. "You do that. When do you think you'll be back?"

Baby Girl shifted in his arms, and Bucky softened his voice. "Day after tomorrow? Alright, keep me updated." He ended the call.

"Who was that?" came a groggy voice. Baby Girl's eyes were closed, and she was in the process of waking up.

"Sam," Bucky answered, adjusting her in his arms. "His business is taking longer than usual. He and Sarah will be back in a few days.

Baby Girl pushed away from Bucky, sat up next to him, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes trailed to his chest and widened in mortification. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I drooled all over you."

When she reached over to wipe him clean, he grabbed her wrist. "Why do you make it a habit to apologize for things out of your control?"

She suddenly jerked away from him, putting ample space between them. "I can hardly help how I feel. If I feel sorry, I apologize."

"Well, don't." Bucky stretched his legs, groaning at the relief. "I'm a grown man," he teased, wiping his chest with the back of his hand. "I can handle a little drool."

Baby girl looked down at her palms, forlorn and despondent. "I'm a mess," she muttered.

"Yes, you are," Bucky responded quietly. She jerked her head in surprise, expecting him to dispute her. But she didn't need his false reassurances any longer. Bucky wanted the full weight of her circumstances bearing down on her so she might escape from the haze of melancholy and finally fight back.

Bucky looked out the window at the setting sun. It cast a beautiful golden glow over the two of them. "You should change into something comfortable," he told her. "There's a lot to talk about."

"Quentin was in one of my electives at school." Baby Girl was freshly showered and changed, wearing Bucky's sweats because she was out of clean clothes. They were enormous on her frame, which suited her well.

Bucky had also changed and was sitting across from her on the kitchen table, a warm cup of tea in his hands. It was something floral with a bitter note. He took his plain while she drowned hers in honey.

"Abnormal Psychology," she continued, "which is ironic because I diagnosed him with narcissism a few years into our relationship. I never told him, obviously. It wouldn't have ended well."

The conversation—long overdue—produced a painful pit in Bucky's stomach. He recognized it as suppressed rage, slowly building in potency and power. Bucky took a large sip of his tea, letting it burn his tongue so he might focus on anything other than the need to punch Beck's face.

"I tripped over his bag. He helped me up; apologized, and asked me to dinner."

Bucky couldn't help how bitter he sounded. "And you said yes."

She looked at him with dead eyes. "I wish I had. Then my life wouldn't have turned into a Shakespearean tragedy."

"That seems a bit bleak," Bucky snorted.

"But isn't it?" she implored. "Bleak? He was my first serious boyfriend; I moved in with him after two weeks and quit my job after a month. He didn't say 'I love you' until I threatened to leave him when I found out he was cheating. I pretended to look the other way when I found another girl's bra in our bed. I laughed when I saw lipstick stains on his collar. I gave him my virginity on my birthday, the day after I found out he cheated on me again. If that isn't bleak, if that isn't a tragedy, then what is? Perhaps it's the fact that I made excuses for him the first time he hit me. I told myself he was aiming for the wall, and I got in the way of his fist, but let's be honest, I was deluding myself."

Baby girl took a deep breath and dug her nails into the table. Her previous sorrow was replaced with unbridled anger. "I recognized all the signs. I knew he was using me—manipulating me! He even said so himself. We were at a party, and his friend said I was 'quite something.' Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean! Quentin said, 'She is, isn't she? But I gotta tell you, I'm not with her for that brain of hers.' I was standing right next to him! He and his friends undressed me with their eyes, and I just stood there and smiled!"

Bucky felt his rage simmering—at Beck, at the situation, at her . "Why are you blaming yourself? It's not your fault!"

Baby Girl pushed away from the table and paced around. "Don't!" she shouted. "Nothing you say will make this okay, Bucky. Nothing you say will make what I did okay!"

Bucky stood up as well, breathing heavily. He had known her less than a week but already felt burning concern on her behalf. "And what did you do?"

"Nothing!" she screamed, and her shrill voice echoed throughout the empty house. "I did nothing! Quentin threatened Sam, then once Sam blipped, he threatened Sarah and the boys, and I knew it wasn't a bluff because he had the connections to back him up. I knew, because I'm the one who helped him get those connections in the first place!"

Bucky sucked in a quick breath. "What connections?" Baby Girl had calmed somewhat after her brief yet brutal rant, and she sat down at the table, sipping her tea.

"What connections!" Bucky almost shouted.

Baby Girl startled. "I don't know! Businessmen, stockbrokers, a lot of Wall Street types. They paid attention to him when he had a pretty girl on his arm."

"Was that all?" Bucky probed.

Baby Girl shook her head. "There were a lot of government officials, too. I told you, remember? FBI, CIA, Homeland Security, Senators, UN spokespersons, congressmen, federal court judges—"

"Repeat that."

"Federal court—"

"No!" Bucky interrupted again. "What you said before."

"Congressmen?" Baby Girl huffed in annoyance. "I don't understand why that stood out to you the most. Are federal court judges not impressive enough for you, Bucky?"

Bucky ignored her snark and sat across from her. "Do you happen to know a Congressman Lockhart?"

Baby Girl paused before taking a sip from her cup. "Surprisingly, yes. Mr. Lockhart left a lasting impression when he didn't try looking down my dress every few minutes or shoving his hand up my leg."

"That's disgusting," he frowned.

"That's life," Baby Girl retorted. "Trust me, I had it better than most women."

Bucky shook his head, hating how she downplayed her struggles. "That's not okay."

Baby Girl scoffed without heat. "Like things were so much better in the forties. Right, Sergeant Barnes?"

Bucky ignored any feelings the utterance of his title from her lips brought forth. "I didn't stand for that then, and I don't stand for it now."

Thankfully, she seemed to have mercy on him and let the topic slide. "He didn't seem to like Quentin much; Lockhart. He asked me a lot of questions, and I think he got suspicious when I couldn't answer anything."

"Like what?"

"Like what I do for work, my interests, how I met Quentin. I couldn't tell him anything without revealing how abusive Quentin was. He especially didn't like it when he found out I was Sam Wilson's adopted kid sister."

Bucky was intrigued. "What did he say?"

"Nothing. He ignored Quentin for the rest of the event, but right before it ended, he pulled me aside and..." she trailed off.

"What?" Bucky encouraged her.

Baby Girl looked at him with shame and guilt swimming in her irises. "Congressman Lockhart told me I was making a mistake. He told me Quentin was using me because of my relation to Sam Wilson. He told me men like Quentin were rotten to the core, and I should run the other way and never look back." She gulped. "I should've listened to him."

Bucky shook his head. "You made a decision. You couldn't have known."

She didn't hear him, seemingly playing the scene in her mind. "Then the strangest thing happened. Congressman Lockhart called a few days later to meet about the project Quentin had proposed. Quentin was ecstatic, as you can imagine. He was overly sweet with me that day." Her brows puckered in confusion. "But I never understood... Why warn me away from Quentin only to cozy up to him later?"

Bucky leaned back in his chair, thinking everything over, connecting the dots. "Congressman Lockhart is a good man," he said. "A good and clever man."

Baby Girl narrowed her eyes. "How do you know him anyway? What does he have to do with anything?"

Bucky hesitated. He didn't want to get her hopes up if his plan didn't work, but he also couldn't watch her beat herself up any longer. This girl, this beautiful and feisty girl, had Bucky wrapped around her fingers since she wrapped her arms around his waist that day on his bike. This girl, who laughed and cried and smiled and was never afraid to voice her opinion. This girl, who looked at Bucky with admiration in her eyes, who looked at his metal arm with gentle curiosity and without any of the disgust or malice he was used to. Who kept her questions light and discrete so as not to unsettle him. This girl, this beautiful and feisty girl, who made Bucky smile.

He would do anything for her. Even if it meant keeping his scheme a secret.

Bucky hesitated, not wanting to lie to her, but finding he had little choice. "I have a plan," he said. "To get rid of Quentin Beck for good."

And Bucky was presented, for the first time since their swim in the lake, a genuine and awe-filled smile, directed entirely at him.

"Lemonade?"

Bucky swam toward the deck, hoisting himself from the lake. Baby Girl was sitting on the edge, letting her bare feet skim the cool water. "You take such good care of me," Bucky teased. He gave a playful shake of his head, sending droplets of water her way.

Baby Girl shrieked and raised her hands to cover her face. "You ass!"

With a chuckle, Bucky leaned back on his elbow, reaching for the drink.

"And to think I brought you sustenance!" Baby Girl pushed a plate of fruit toward him.

Bucky picked up a fruit with a deep purple flesh and examined it with suspicion. "Is this alien food? It looks like something you might find in Asgard."

Baby Girl stared in awe. "You've been to Asgard?"

Bucky was still looking at the teardrop-shaped product. "Not yet," he declared confidently and bit into the flesh. Bucky paused a moment, staring at Baby Girl before taking a larger bite. "What the fuck? Why is it so good?"

Baby Girl laughed. "What, you've never had a fig before?" She grabbed one for herself and showed him a better way to eat it. "You pinch it at the top. Split it open. Fold it over, and voila!" She popped it in her mouth, groaning as flavour burst across her tongue.

"I thought it was some weird kind of plum!" Bucky exclaimed, grabbing another.

"Nope, just a fig."

"Just a fig, she says," Bucky teased. "And what's this?" He threw a shiny orange fruit in the air, catching it just before it smacked Baby Girl in the face.

She took it from him with an unconvincing frown. " This —is a persimmon. You know it's ripe when it's ready to burst. I like to pinch the skin like this—" she demonstrated by making an incision with her teeth, "and suck the flesh." Baby Girl moaned in delight. "I missed this."

Bucky intensely observed her, paying close attention to a drop of persimmon juice on her lip.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

Bucky reached over to wipe the juice with his thumb. "You're a mess," he said hoarsely. Then, he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it off as she watched him. "It's sweet."

She stared at him, soft lips parted and breaths uneven. "Did you think it would be sour?"

Bucky shrugged and picked up one for himself, following Baby Girl's instructions and getting a proper taste. When he was halfway through his fruit and Baby Girl was still gawking at him, Bucky realized he had taken the flirting a bit too far.

Satisfaction crackled in his muscles, and he twitched out a smirk. It was only a small accomplishment that he had retained some of his frivolous ways, but he was still proud. "What else do you have for me?" he inquired loudly, effectively diverting her.

Baby Girl quickly composed herself, dropping the rest of her persimmon onto the fruit plate. "Watermelon and grapes."

"Does the watermelon change colours, and do the grapes taste like cotton candy?"

"Change colours—No!" Baby Girl gawped. "You have a strong imagination." She suddenly turned thoughtful. "I was thinking of grabbing the cotton candy grapes, though. But they're too sweet for me."

It was Bucky's turn to gawp. "I was being sarcastic. Do cotton candy grapes really exist?"

Baby Girl smiled. "They've been around a while. I'll get you some next time."

Bucky reclined on his elbow, resting his head in his hand. "Next time. I like the sound of that." He caught her eye and asked her the burning question. "So, you've decided to stay?"

Baby Girl pushed the empty glasses and fruit tray away, lying back on the deck. From this angle, with Bucky hovering over her, the sun didn't burn her eyes. She smiled a sad smile. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"You always have a choice," Bucky replied fervently. "We would never keep you against your will."

Baby Girl shook her head. "That's not what I meant. Quentin will always find me. He's possessive of his things."

"You're not a thing . And he doesn't deserve you."

"Maybe I deserve him."

Bucky looked into her bright eyes, thinly veiled with tears. He understood the feeling of helplessness—the intense guilt that followed. Even now, after being pardoned and making amends, Bucky couldn't stop guilt from seizing him in the dark hours of the night, when he was most vulnerable and exposed.

He often looked around and wondered if he deserved the life he had been given, this second chance that none of his victims had the fortune of. On more of a surface level, Bucky understood he was as much a victim as any other. A prisoner in his own body. He, and he alone, knew the struggle he had put up for almost twenty years before finally succumbing.

Bucky looked into her bright eyes, thinly veiled with tears, and saw himself reflected in them. He saw himself as a younger man—a better man—waging a war against invisible demons, and he understood. Trauma left its presence in various ways, and the evidence of it was scattered all across her vulnerable physique.

Bucky reached for a strand of her hair. "Sometimes, the hardest prison to escape from is the one we build in our own minds."

Baby Girl turned her head to look up at the sky. "That sounds like something you'd hear at the therapist's."

"And I'm giving it out for free," Bucky smiled.

They both said nothing for a short while, enjoying the sun, and soaking each other's company.

"He used to tell me I was beautiful every day." Her brows creased. "Well, not exactly. He never called me beautiful. He called me hot, and sexy, and fire—" she suddenly scoffed. "I hated that. 'You look fire.' One day, even that stopped. I remember thinking he didn't love me anymore because that's what attracted him in the first place."

Bucky played with her hair, letting her say what she needed to.

"Objectively, I know I'm attractive. I was told often enough by his friends. But I haven't felt pretty in a long time. And it disgusts me that I needed his validation to feel good about myself." Baby Girl took a deep breath, shaking slightly from the overload of emotions. "Sorry."

Making sure she was looking at him, Bucky leaned his head down and kissed the corner of her mouth. Her skin was soft and warm, and he lingered a moment longer than necessary. "You're beautiful," he murmured, savouring her sweet scent. "Absolutely gorgeous."

Baby Girl stiffened under him, eyes widened with surprise, soft lips parted in exhale. She blinked furiously, grabbing her necklace in a white-knuckled grip—a dainty gold crescent moon with black detailing. "I feel very hot," she croaked.

Indeed, Bucky could hear her heart furiously pumping blood through her veins due to his risky kiss. He bent down and placed another, dangerously closer to her lips than the previous. "Let's cool you down then," he smirked, grabbing her around the waist and launching both of them into the lake.

He lost his hold on her as they submerged in the cool water. Bucky kicked off the bottom and broke the surface, looking around for her. Baby Girl emerged a moment later, mascara lines running down her cheeks and brows creased in a furious frown.

She wiped her face and scoffed, "You absolute ass!" When Bucky laughed at her, she splashed him with a large swell of water, which went into his mouth. He choked and sputtered between laughter, welcoming her gentle abuse with a large smile.

"You said you were hot," he rationalized. "I only wanted to cool you down."

Baby Girl intensified her attack, wading closer until she was on top of him, attempting to submerge his head. "You idiot!" she yelled. "My clothes are all wet!"

"Pity," Bucky sputtered, trying to grab hold of her, but she was relentless in her assault, flailing her limbs in reckless abandon.

"Die!" she shrieked, managing to clamber on top of him. She wrapped her legs around his neck and pushed him under, painfully pulling at his roots in the process.

All this time, Bucky could've easily subdued her. But where was the fun in that? When her legs tightened a smidge too much, and Bucky could no longer breathe, he finally put an end to their little game. He clasped his hand around her ankle and gave a gentle pull. Baby Girl fell from his shoulders with a dramatic scream, and realizing she had far surpassed his patience, began to swim away.

Bucky grabbed her ankle once more, keeping her in place. "You brat," he hissed. "I'll teach you a lesson."

Her panicked laughter brought a large smile to his face. Seeing her happy because of him; after the horrible week she'd had, filled Bucky with indescribable pride.

"No!" she giggled. "No more. I'm tired." In fact, she had stopped swimming and was struggling to stay afloat.

Bucky lifted her into his arms, ignoring her feeble protests. "That's enough games for today," he announced, carrying her dripping body inside.

After drying themselves and changing, they settled in the kitchen for dinner. Baby Girl sat on the island with her head resting on her arms, watching Bucky cook.

"Where did you learn that?" she asked when he expertly chopped onions without looking.

Bucky shrugged. "My Ma taught me the basics when I was little. She said cooking was a survival skill."

The girl smiled. "Smart woman."

"That she was," he sighed. "I learned some more in the army. Then, after I was pardoned, I found all this time on my hands and all these cuisines I wanted to try. YouTube is very handy for that."

"That it is." She walked to his side, watching him saute shrimp for the pasta. "You sure you don't want me to help?"

"Yeah, you sit your pretty ass down and relax."

"Yes, Chef!" Baby Girl saluted, not bothering to sit. She exclaimed in delight when Bucky flipped the pan one-handed.

"Wanna see something cool?" he smirked, grabbing a bottle of Cognac from the pantry. "Step back."

Baby Girl shuffled back, and Bucky poured some Cognac into the saucepan. He was so focused on the task that he didn't notice Baby Girl inch closer. Bucky tilted the pan, letting it catch fire, and a beautiful flame blazed powerfully in front of him. He turned, wanting to see her reaction.

She stepped away with a shout, arms raised to protect her face. The flame fizzled away as quickly as it had ignited, but she was still shaking in fear. She fell against the island counter, sliding to her knees.

Bucky turned off the stove and sank next to her, grabbing her arms. "What's wrong?" he worried. "Are you hurt?"

Eyes shut tight, she shook her head, but she was still trembling. "I'm okay."

Bucky didn't believe her. He lifted her up and set her on the counter, sliding between her spread legs. "Hey," he soothed. "What happened just now?"

She shook her head, eyes still closed. "I don't know, I—" Baby Girl exhaled shakily, trying to calm down. "I wasn't expecting—I thought. I'm scared of fire," she eventually admitted.

Bucky frowned. He vividly remembered the night of the bonfire, where she chased AJ and Cass around the large fire. There was no hint of fear on her face that night, no discomfort or hesitancy. He told her as such.

"I don't know. I think it's because the bonfire was out in the open. It was controlled and didn't feel as dangerous. But indoor fires..." She left the next part unsaid, but Bucky understood.

His flambé trick took her by surprise at such close proximity. For a moment, she was transported to her childhood home to relive that fateful night. Bucky hugged her tight, soothing her with kind words of affirmation. "You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you."

She clutched tightly onto him, burying her face in his neck, breathing heavily into his ears. "Sometimes I think I was supposed to die that night," she whimpered, making Bucky freeze. "I was supposed to die in that house with my family. But I didn't. I'm scared the past will catch up with me one day to finish what it started."

Bucky held on to her tighter.

"I'm scared I'll find myself in that house again, and no one will be there to push me out the window."

"That won't happen," he promised. "I won't let it."

She briefly said nothing, and Bucky worried he hadn't done enough to reassure her.

"Have you seen the house?" she suddenly asked.

"No," replied Bucky, running his hands through her hair. "But Sam told me it was nearby."

Baby Girl hummed. "It's on the far side of the lake, covered by trees. We shared the lake with the Wilsons. Did you know the house is still there? What's left of it anyway. They fixed the damaged parts and put it up for sale. I found out two years ago."

Bucky pulled away from her, meeting her gaze. "It's been up that long?"

"Longer," she replied. "It went up for sale six years ago, but no one will buy it. Who wants to live in a house where an entire family died?"

Bucky wanted to correct her. "You're not dead," he wanted to shout. "You're not at fault. You deserve so much."

"If I had the money..." she shook her head and dismissed the thought.

Would she buy the house if she could? he wondered. The home where she grew up and created happy memories with her siblings.

Bucky thought about his house in Brooklyn Heights, which had been turned into a poor excuse of a strip mall. The house where he had sleepovers with Steve. Where Rebecca hosted her friends, and Bucky hid underneath her bed to try and scare them. Where he snuck in his prom date, Dorothy, through his bedroom window when his parents were out of town. The time he and Steve were playing baseball on the street, and Steve hit the ball straight through the front window.

Would he buy that house if he could? If it hadn't been bulldozed? He decided he would. He had the desire, and he sure as hell had the money.

"There's no point in dwelling on the past," he parroted. Occasionally, his new therapist offered advice that Bucky kept close to his heart. "You're alive to see another day. Make the most of it."

Baby Girl smiled softly. "You always know just what to say," she teased. "I will."

Bucky was consoled by her steady heartbeat and easy manner. "It's a god-given talent," he shrugged, instantly rewarded by soft giggles and an unenthusiastic shove at his chest.

Once the adrenaline from the scare dissipated, Bucky finally noticed their proximity. Her thighs were bracketing his, and his arms were caging her body. Their breaths mingled in the air between them.

"You're very modest," Baby Girl croaked, jerking away.

Bucky hastily turned to the stove, turning it on and resuming making dinner. "With good reason," he replied, clearing his throat.

He chastised himself while the shrimps finished cooking. Baby Girl had just gotten out of an abusive relationship. Now was not the time to be sweet on her—hovering so close he could smell her shampoo and the scent of her skin.

Wait. Was she out of an abusive relationship? Baby Girl had emphasized that she was only with Quentin because he threatened Sam, Sarah, and the boys. Except, that was no longer an issue as a plan was underway. Bucky knew it, Sam knew it, but did Quentin? Did Quentin assume that his dismissal from the Wilson Residence a few days prior was a fluke? If Quentin returned thinking he could whisk her away as if she owed him anything, he would be sorely mistaken. Bucky would make sure of it.

But where did that leave them? There was obvious attraction—though Bucky was unsure if it was appropriate to act on, considering the circumstances—and they were legal adults, but the path forward felt very unclear. While Baby Girl hadn't shown any unpleasant reactions to Bucky's past, she hadn't particularly reassured him either that it did not bother her. Was it fair to her to be caught up in his mess, along with her own?

So many questions, and yet the answers felt out of reach. Bucky turned around. Baby girl was sitting on the kitchen table, and she gave Bucky a smile that answered at least one question.

Did she trust him? Her smile said, "Yes. Yes, she did."

Another day passed like all the others. Had it really been over a week since she arrived in Louisiana? Sam and Sarah were still away on "business," and the boys were still at their sleepover—ridiculous really—she knew it was summer break, but there had to be a limit. She and Bucky were still alone together.

Bucky. His name made her burn with embarrassment. Lately, anything and everything related to him made her temperature rise a few degrees. His smile, his presence, his proximity . His hands holding her tight to his chest. Embarrassment always closely followed such thoughts, though for reasons that deeply ashamed her because never, in the entirety of her relationship with Quentin, did she feel like this. Beautiful, and desired, and wanted, and free . Happy.

She had invested around six to seven years in her on-again, off-again relationship with Quentin Beck and never managed to blush as furiously as she did in the presence of Bucky Barnes. The White Wolf. War hero. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

While most girls gushed over Captain America in high school, Baby Girl cut out pictures of his best friend from her textbook and plastered them inside her locker. It was a stupid girl crush, one she quickly outgrew as she matured into a young woman. However, the fascination remained. During the past week, this fascination had transformed from a small, barely there spark to a blazing fire. The gruesome analogy was not lost on her, yet it was the only way to vividly describe her deepening feelings.

Bucky Barnes had lit her heart on fire. And that terrified her. Not because she was afraid of men after her relationship with Quentin, and not because of Bucky's unfortunate past, but because of her unfortunate reality. What did she have to offer a man like Bucky Barnes? She had nothing. No job, no prospects, no backbone with which to confidently regard the world. She had spent six years with an abusive man, and she could have left at any moment—could have gathered the courage to trust her brother Sam to take care of all of them. She hadn't taken the opportunity when presented with it, and there was this man, who hadn't been given any semblance of reprieve, and he was stronger for it.

So, no. While there was obvious attraction between them both, she was not sure it was appropriate to act on. She could never deserve the likes of him.

The path ahead was unclear, but somehow she knew he would be there to guide her. And when he chucked her into the lake that evening, laughing loudly at her temper, she smiled back, hoping her face screamed, "I trust you. I do."

After an uneventful dinner, Bucky sheepishly announced he had to leave. "I forgot I promised Carlos I'd help with his car."

She raised an unimpressed brow, fixing him with a stern look. He had promised to take her shopping for a new phone, and while she wasn't looking forward to a ride on his death trap, she really wanted her games back. "I didn't know you were a mechanic along with being a war hero."

"I'm not a war hero," he responded mechanically.

The words burst from her lips. "If it weren't for you," she snapped, "Doctor Zola would've been on his merry way to design new techniques to destroy the human race. You stopped him. If that's not heroic, I don't know what is."

"I'm not a war hero," Bucky said again after getting over the initial shock at her outburst.

"But you're a mechanic?"

"I'm not that either," he huffed. "Mr. Thurow needs me to tow his car."

"Excuse me?"

"The company overcharges and always ends up damaging the vehicle. He asked me for a favour."

"Do we have a tow truck?" she asked.

Bucky raised his left hand. "I have a metal arm," he pointed out. "And super strength. I can easily tow a car."

Baby Girl was speechless. "How long will you be?"

Bucky checked his watch. "An hour? Less, if I manage to not get roped into game night."

"Game night? It's a weekday."

"Every night's a game night at the Thurow's," Bucky responded seriously. "We'll get your phone first thing tomorrow morning."

"Promise?" she asked his retreating figure.

"Promise," he replied. "Lock the door, alright? And keep the blinds down."

"Alright, Dad," she retorted, but he had already left.

Baby Girl took a deep breath. This was the first time she had been alone in weeks. She sat down on the couch and closed her eyes. A minute passed, then two, then three. Five minutes later, she opened her eyes and saw only thirty seconds had passed. She groaned from boredom and flopped over the armrest. She was loath to admit that she dearly missed Bucky. There was something in his air and manner of walking that brought peace to her inner turmoil.

She sighed, resorting to cleaning the kitchen, which was not dirty in the least. In the middle of her furiously scrubbing the countertop with a sponge, the landline chimed annoyingly from the other room. "Hello," she answered, twirling the cord with her pinky. "Who's this?"

"Baby Girl!" the jolly voice on the other line bellowed. "I was hoping you'd pick up."

"Sam!" The two talked, catching up on the past few days. It turned out Sam was in Washington. "How's Sarah?" she asked. "Is she enjoying her time away from the boys? They're lovely, but they can be a nuisance."

Sam grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

"What?"

"She's on a date," he groaned. "Look, I'm happy for her. But I didn't need to see her exchanging spit with a stranger."

"Poor you," she giggled. "And lucky Sarah! Wowza!"

Sam laughed on the other line. "It's great to hear you happy after so long."

"Hmm," Baby Girl hummed, feeling momentarily guilty. "By the way, I thought you and Sarah were going to New Orleans. What are you doing in Washington?"

"He didn't tell you," Sam said with surprise. "I thought he would."

"Tell me what?"

"I know about Quentin," Sam sighed. "I know you're still dating him."

Her breath got stuck in her throat. "He told you?" she asked in disbelief.

"Don't be mad at him," Sam pleaded. "I made him tell me."

There was shuffling on the other end. A loud sniffle.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry you felt like Quentin was the only one you could count on."

"What exactly did Bucky say?" Baby Girl questioned, thinking Sam was too calm about the situation.

"He said Quentin was blackmailing you to stay with him."

Baby Girl sighed. "Is that all? Did he say anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Like... nothing." She realized Bucky had not disclosed any of the more sensitive subject matter. Not the abuse, nor Quentin's impromptu visit. "It's nothing. I'm sorry I kept this from you."

Sam sighed heavily on the other line. "That's in the past. We can only move forward from here on out."

Baby Girl nodded even though Sam couldn't see her. "You have a good friend," she told him. "Bucky's doing a lot to help. He came up with the plan to distract Quentin with "bigger fish," as he put it. Quentin will forget all about me if he finds something more worthwhile. But I'm sure you know all about that."

"He said what? That's not what we planned!" Sam exclaimed. He swore under his breath. "I need to take this call. It's Congress—I'll tell you soon, alright? I'll call you right back."

"Sure," she said, slightly flustered. "I'll be waiting."

Sam ended the call, and she put the receiver down. The second she did, the landline immediately started ringing.

"What took you so long?" she joked with a laugh. "I've been waiting hours for your call."

"You have? I knew you missed me."

Baby Girl felt her heart drop to her stomach. The voice on the other line was not quite as deep, or quite as warm. It was low and raspy, eliciting goosebumps across her arms and bad memories across her skin.

She made to end the call, but his shrill warning stopped her. "You don't want to do that," Quentin hissed.

"What do you want?" she managed to ask between ragged breaths.

"Straight to the point, I see. You've really changed."

"Fuck you!" she seethed. "I asked you a question." She was surprised by her resolve, and so was he.

"What, you're swearing now? That's not the girl I know."

Her body was trembling with adrenaline. "Tell me what you want, or I'll end the call."

She could feel his anger through the line. "I want to talk to you in person."

"Over your dead body!" she yelled.

Quentin was oddly calm with his response. "No, not over mine."

It was so obviously a bait—one she couldn't help but fall for. "What do you mean?"

"It's a shame," he sighed, "that I'm meeting them for the first time under such shit circumstances. They're cute kids. Would've loved New York."

Time seemed to stop.

"Have you boys ever seen the Statue of Liberty? I'll take you once your Aunt comes back home. We can all go together."

There was a muffled noise, then the slam of a door shutting close. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over Baby Girl. Her muscles tightened painfully, and she collapsed onto the couch.

"No," she whispered.

Quentin laughed on the other end. "Cat got your tongue?"

Baby Girl closed her eyes, feeling tears of frustration well in the corners. This is why she kept her distance. This is why she wanted to go back to Quentin and back to New York. But she let herself hope in Bucky's presence, let herself believe that she could have a family while keeping her freedom. "You monster," she hissed. "Don't you dare touch them." But there wasn't any heat behind her words, only the bitter taste of defeat.

He tasted it too, and oh, how he reveled in it! Quentin laughed again, low and menacing. "I told you I wouldn't let you leave so easily. Meet me in person if you want to see your dear nephews again. And don't you dare tell anyone," he hissed. "This is between you and me."

Baby Girl ignored his warning and reached into her back pocket to grab her phone and tell Bucky. But her hand came back empty. She didn't have a phone; she didn't even have Bucky's number. And did she really want to risk the boys' lives by going behind Quentin's back? He didn't want them anyway, he only wanted her.

With tears burning her eyes and a fire blazing in her chest, Baby Girl asked, "Where do you want to meet?"

On the other end, Quentin smiled, knowing he had won.

Bucky reached into his back pocket and grabbed his phone. He scrolled through his contacts, realizing too late that he didn't have her number. His face fell, and he sighed deep and slow, garnering the attention of the room. Carlos Thurow had invited some friends for a game of poker and forced Bucky to play a round with them. That was four rounds ago.

"What's got you so down, Sergeant?" Carlos teased. "There a girl waiting for you at home?" The men laughed and cheered, barraging Bucky with questions.

He found himself smiling, and finished his beer in one swig. "I do, actually," he said, grabbing his jacket and walking to the door. "I should get going."

The men cheered him on, and Bucky left feeling light and tingly. It wasn't from the alcohol—Bucky couldn't get drunk anymore—it was her. His Baby Girl.

The walk to Sam's was warm. The stars were out, the sky clear, and the wind blew gently, ruffling the trees around him. Bucky took a deep breath, smelling the ocean air and the earthy trees, listening to the faint sounds of crickets chirping and owls hooting. A night had never been sweeter.

Once at the house, Bucky lightened his footsteps and creeped onto the porch, feeling mischievous and wanting to spook Baby Girl. The living room light was on, and he could see the television playing silently through the thin curtain. Bucky placed a hand on the door, frowning when it creeped open at the slightest touch.

Didn't he tell her to lock the door? And to leave it completely open? Delacroix was a small community inhabited by kind and lawful people, but there was a crazy ex on the loose. He expected Baby Girl to be more careful than that.

Bucky decided he would give her a proper scare for her carelessness and slipped through the entryway. He sneaked into the living room, arms raised like in the movies, and—

She wasn't there. Bucky quickly scanned his surroundings. TV playing, couch pushed askew, the landline dangling from its cord, the edge of the carpet flipped over as if someone had run over it. Bucky rushed to check the rest of the house, the bedrooms, the washroom—he even checked the lake. Nothing.

He went back to the living room, senses dialed to the maximum. There was no sign of a forced entry, and though a scuffle was apparent, there were no prints or marks that indicated there had been another person. Unless they covered their tracks. But then why leave the carpet overturned, the couch askew? Why make it obvious something had happened?

Perhaps Bucky was overthinking, and Baby Girl had run to the store to grab something. She had already proved herself to be impulsive and clumsy. It wouldn't be a huge stretch to believe she forgot to lock the door behind her in a hurry.

Except, she wouldn't have left without her wallet. Bucky bent down to grab her purse from under the coffee table, feeling dread engulf him at the sight. Palms sticky and breaths uneven, he looked around the room once more. This time, he noticed something he hadn't before, a hastily scribbled note peeking out from under the landline.

Bucky snatched the note, careful not to crease it.

"I'm sorry," it began. "I had no choice. He has the boys."

Bucky's mind began to race with questions. Most namely, "Where?"

It was then that his senses picked up on something new. The faint scent of smoke. Bucky dropped the note and ran out the back, scanning the horizon. There, on the opposite side of the lake, a thick column of smoke billowed from behind the treeline. The beginnings of a large fire. Baby Girl's house was set ablaze, glowing brightly in the dark. Bucky's heart dropped to his stomach, and he ran.

Note: So... I lied. There will need to be another part.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist │Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Comments and Reblogs are appreciated!! 💜

@astrophileous @buckylovinglokivariant @casa-boiardi @crazyunsexycool @dancer3205 @dascarypicklerawr @drakelover78 @hallecarey1 @kandis-mom @marantha @marvelatthetwilight @marvelouslyunstable @ria132love @spookyparadisesheep @sunnyhummingbee @traderjoesmints

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #tfatws!bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #tfatws!bucky #marvel #fytflam fic #rosepetalsinwinter

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vqlluna · 10 months ago

Text

SOBER CONFESSIONS ━━━ REMUS LUPIN

drunken truths p1

summary: Kissing Remus that night was the only thing on your mind the entire month, and you haven't seen him since then. You both happen to bump into each other in distress in the safety at Lily's apartment in the middle of the night. Turns out Remus got into a fight, for you?

notes: f!rich!reader x poor!remus lupin, goody-two-shoes!reader x stoner!remus wounds, fluff, frenemies to lovers Remus is sassy and sweet

a/n: as promised, I'm delivering a part two! Sorry it took to long, been brainstorming/daydreaming and fixing/adding details for the past few days! Enjoyyy

IT'S NOT FUN WHEN YOUR MIND FUSSES OVER ONE THING AND ONE THING ONLY. You never remember your drunken nights, that was until a month ago. Even if the rest of the night is a blur you can surely still feel the lingers of Remus' lips, and his touch, and his confessions.

That was the first time you truly accepted to yourself how much you wanted him, but what would be the chances? Lightly touching upon the subject with your parents, especially your mother, did not go well. Now all your most precious belongings sat in a suitcase in the middle of James' and Lily's living room.

Even further so, being locked tight in a small flat with people who constantly talked about their wolfish friend, didn't help get him off your mind. So instead you found yourself busying yourself every day for the past month.

This is how countless shopping bags also ended up beside that suitcase on the floor. It's also how you'd been going out to party so much on your own, desperate to find a man that both you and your mother could approve of so you could move back home to your luxurious bed.

Tonight's adventure was truly needed, as James and Lily just couldn't provide you with foods that fit your, quite expensive, tastes. Now you end up coming back after a late-night trip to the twenty-four-hour grocery mart.

You jumble around as you open the door, pushing it open with your back before you twirl back around. In between the bags of produce that you held in your arm, you see a head of short hair peeping at the edge of the couch which presses against the side of the wall.

"James?" You ask, you go to your left as you enter the small kitchen, setting the bags on the short island turning the lights above the countertops on.

You turn back to the couch enveloped in shadow and chuckle, "What'd you do to Lils this time?" you tease after remembering the one time you'd come over as James had to sleep on the couch after an argument.

You smiled to yourself excited for being able to shove him off of it in a few minutes after putting everything away.

"Definitely m'not James" the person on the couch mumbled, their voice slipping out like silk. You froze as your back faced away from the living room, coincidentally a few bars of expensive chocolate in your hands, ready to be put away.

"What are you doing here, Remus?" you looked slightly over your shoulder as a shiver went through your body. The one person who you were constantly trying not to think about now lay down in the same room as you.

"What are you doing here?"

"I asked first."

You turned around, shoving your groceries to the side as you turned on the lamp at the end table beside the sofa. You widen your eyes as Remus' appearance matched his explanation. "Was out with Prongs, he dragged me back here after I got ina fight with some bloke."

Whatever bloke, had had the guts to fight Remus surely gave him a nasty bruise at his eye. What surprised you even more was his missing jumper which he had turned into a makeshift pillow. Ignoring the flush at your cheeks and the wild thoughts in your mind you could see imprints of nails that dug at his shoulders, dried blood around them.

At the top of his forehead sat even more dried blood and small cuts around his cheeks, and the scars scattered around his body didn't help his appearance.

"Merlin, Remus! Did James even try fixing you up?" you scolded, and even wanted to scowl as Remus' rolled his eyes.

"Calm down. I'm fine."

"And where was Lily?"

"Fast asleep," he shrugged, "We didn't want to wake her— Now care to explain why you're here?" he pushed on, changing the topic away from him.

Your eyes dashed around him in worry, it wasn't all that bad, but without the proper care anything could get infected. "I live here now—" you mumbled before switching the topic back, "Remus you, you need some ice," you finalized walking to the freezer.

Remus watched as you slipped a mound of ice cubes into a plastic bag before wrapping it in cloth. You returned back, setting yourself at the edge of the couch beside him. "Here," you said out reaching the makeshift ice pack.

The boy cocked an eyebrow at you soon shrugging you off, "M'fine," he reiterated.

You huffed, softly pressing the ice to this eye yourself, holding it there despite his tries to move it off.

"Stubborn," he grumbled.

"Evasive."

Your stomach fluttered as you noticed the corner of his lips picked up slightly. "So why are you living here, Princess?" he asked, sending another shiver down your side, you'd never get over the name.

"Got in an argument with my mother about quite a few things. She kicked me or, or really I just left. Lily let me crash," you explained rapidly. You didn't want to explain that the main argument was over how your Mother couldn't let you marry someone of "his status".

Carefully you took his hand pressing it over the ice pack to keep it in place, "M'gonna, I'm gonna get you some anti-septic, hold on. And keep that damn ice on your face!"

As you left Remus did take the ice off for a second in spite. Taking his jumper away from his head, he laid it over his torso, feeling insecure of his scars ever since you turned the lamp on, especially when you looked him over quite a few times.

When he heard your foot steps come down back the hallway he replaced the ice pack on his eye, curiously eyeing the wet cloth and bottles in your hands.

A fter returning you removed the ice pack yourself, setting it on the coffee table, much to Remus' delight. What wasn't very settling to him was when you mentioned how you were too clean up the cuts, especially the gash on his forehead.

"Might hurt," you whispered, pouring some solution on a cotton pad and applying it to the tiny cuts and imprints first. You then moved his temple, you slowly pouring it over. Remus winced and seethed, making a frown appear on your lips. You took the wet rag off your leg as you cleaned up the dried blood. "Sorry."

If he was being honest with himself, he didn't mind. The closer to him you were, the better. He was hopeful you didn't notice his constant stare on you as you worked on healing his wounds. So fussed over him he itched himself with the question, "Why are you doing this?"

Grateful for the dim lighting, you cheeks heated up. "Well, you're currently residing on my bed. Sooner I patch you up, sooner I get to sleep."

"Well I could always make some room. No problem with sharing," he teased, the extra wink he added pushing you over the edge. For as long as you can remember Remus was also teasingly flirting with you to boil your anger, now you questioned if he did it to genuinely drop hints.

You clenched your jaw, scrunching your nose at him with fake disgust. You set the alcohol and rag back down and picked up a small butterfly strip to apply to the open cut that kept glaring at you from his forehead. "Remus, what happened?" you question concerning to whatever fight he'd wound himself in.

"—Do you remember the party last month?" he cut in right before you applied the bandage, making you freeze once again, but with the power you had, you managed to nod. "What do you remember?"

Simply with the stare you gave him silently told him that you remembered what was important. "Look, I'm sorry for, for kissing you. You were drunk and— It was Rosier."

You wanted to answer, to tell him that you enjoyed the kiss, if it wasn't for the end of the sentence that caught your ears. "What about him?" You'd only brought Rosier that night because your parents would've never let you out of the house to attend some house party with James and everyone.

"Me and Prongs were at a pub t'night. We bumped into him and the git was saying nasty things 'bout you. M'guessing he found out about that night, and I tried telling 'im off but," he rambled and slowed down at the end.

Motioning your head for him to continue. Remus took a breath and furthered on, "He started talking crap about me and then my fist did the rest of the talking," he chuckled, "Prick was a coward at the end and ended up just hittin' me over the head with a bottle." Well, that explained the cuts all over his face.

You looked at him in slight up, your lips parted, "What'd he say about me?"

"S'not important."

"What did he say, Remus."

You needed to know what things were being said about you behind your back. Though you had your difficulties with your family, you weren't going to let bad-mouthing of you ruin everything. You didn't want shame put on your name from a lonely, rich bastard.

But most of all you wanted to know what riled Remus up so much that he'd take a hit of glass to the head for you. Putting down the strip you occupied him by then putting the ice back on his eye. And as you stared at him so intently he couldn't say no to you.

"He called you a—a slut and a bloody whore," he said quietly, looking away as his jaw clenched and teeth gritted, "Just rambling on to all his muppets on how it wouldn't be long till you moved onto them and their servants." You heart sped up tenderly as you saw how furious and emotional he got over the subject.

It surprised to you know that truly, somewhere, Remus had a heart for you. You bit the inside of your cheek figuring out what to say next. You busied yourself switching back on bandaging the cut up again, talking while you applied it on to distract him from the pain.

"You shouldn't have punched him though, you fool," you laughed very softly, not letting him know that knowing what Evan Rosier had been saying about you affected you as much as it did, "Can't doubt that the prat will press charges."

"It's worth it."

You set the peelings of the strip back down in the small box beside all the other items. Remus twisted his legs around you before planting his feet on the ground sitting beside you.

While months ago, being so close in his vicinity would have you fuming, itching to get to the other side of the room, you now sat with goosebumps all over your body, a rapidly beating heart, and twiddling your fingers in your lap like a dunce.

"Did you mean what you said that night?" the question slipping out of your lips while you craned your neck to look at him. "When you said I was pretty, and charming, and that you liked me, did you mean it?" The only answer Remus gave you was silence, a shaky inhale was the only thing that was heard other than the chirps of crickets outside.

His jaw shook slightly while his lips were brought into a fine line, "Yes," he said. You blinked and looked down into the tiny sliver of space that was in between you two. And now this time Remus was anxiously awaiting your repsonse.

"I like you too," you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes. Remus' fingers twitched at his sides and he gave you a singular nod.

"Good." He turned around, stretching out to grab his jumper as he stood up and put it on. "I should get going now, since I'm all patched up." You cursed yourself in your mind for being sad as the fabric covered his torso.

The air around you two was thick and weirdly awkward. "Do you want a cuppa?" you blurted, "Before you go. I got this special tea from the market."

Remus nodded, "That'd be nice, thanks," he muttered. You got up and squeezed your way past him, sending shocks up his arm. You got the counter and shifted through the bags picking out two different boxes of tea bags. "Which would you like, I have—" As you turned around to show him the options you were surprised at his very close presence behind you.

He looked like he was shaking himself out of something as he apologized, "Sorry."

You turned back setting the boxes back down on the marble as a sudden urge came over you. You cursed once more to yourself biting your lip in contemplation. "Fuck it," you uttered so quietly that only you'd hear it.

You whirled back around stopping as you caught Remus' eye. And for what seemed like hours, the two of you just stared. It wasn't like the night at the party, where his eyes glazed all over you face, he was simply just looking at your eyes, and it both scared you and make you feel warm at the same time. "Can I kiss you?" you questioned.

His lips crawled into a mixture of a smirk and a grin, "You don't need to ask me that ever, Princess." You stomach filled with butterflies at your anxiousness. His hand snaked to cup your face pulling the two of you in, but he didn't dare let your lips touch.

It wasn't like the last, where he'd gone in so quickly, instead, you waited there with your eyes closed begging him in your mind to just do it. In fact, it gave some odd comfort at the thought that he might be relishing himself in the moment just before he finally attached to you.

But just like the last, when it happened you were overwhelmed with a rush of dizziness. This time though the kiss felt extremely gentle, he kissed you like you were made of glass. Because while that night, kissing him felt like a fight of realising feelings, this one felt like dancing in them.

It wasn't long before the two of you got tired of having to contort you necks, and so Remus aided you on your try to hop up and sit on the counter. Carelessly you both pushed the paper bags and boxes of tea aside, making quite a ruckess you giggled.

You hands found themselves in what you decided your now favourite place to put them, tangled in his hair. And his own, what was then decided from the very beginning, resting back along your hips, least to say you had a strong sense of deja vu.

Remus stumbled, creaking and shoving the stool beside him and the tug you gave at his hair earned you a small groan from him before he parted for a moment. "If we keep making noise like this they're bound to wake up and kick us out."

You pecked him lips before adding a remark of your own, "You're the one making all the noise you idiot. Besides, wouldn't be the first time you've ruined something."

You felt the chuckle he gave fan out against your face while he pressed his nose into yours, "Here I was thinking that when you finally liked me the shots would end."

"If I recall you're the one who starting throwing the shots first."

"Can't blame me for wanting your attention," he shrugged, capturing your lips one again and capturing you in a little shock you'd accidentally completely knocked the boxes of tea off the counter. "So I'm the one making all the noise huh?"

"Shut up," you breathe dipping back in. Just then the door at the end of the apartment twisted open and your red-haired friend barged down the hallway, and the dazed lost puppy that was James stumbled down the hall with her.

She had a stern look on her face as her wand was raised at the ready. As she caught sight at the two of you, Remus in between your legs with your arms wrapped around him, her jaw dropped. "What the hell?!" she yelled, a smug smile on her face.

You peeked over Remus' shoulder looking to Lily whilst she gave you a supportive shake of her head. "I'm home!" you cheesily said quietly.

James, not taking in anything that was going on around him, dragged his hands down his face as he turned around and walked back into his room as Lily told him, "We can get back to bed, love, nothing but people who've gone mad!" she suggested toward the pair of you.

She turned back around before she entered back into her room. "If you two do anything," she scolded, wagging her wand, "I will curse your nuts, Moony, and donate your trash collection of books!" she scowled, slamming the door shut.

Remus' shoulders shook as he laughed quietly. Upon looking back at him your eyes immediately found his again realising he hadn't once looked away during the interaction. "I think we've found you a new enemy," he teased.

You rolled your eyes, "I'd never hate anyone as much as I hate you. Especially not Lils," you emphasized. Your breath was stuck as he started pecking and nipping at your jaw. He made his way around your neck, collarbone, and face, surely leaving a pair of hickeys somewhere before he place one last kiss at your lips.

"Y'sure about that, Princess?"

I'll let you all decide if you want more of them

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profounddefendorcrusade-blog · 7 months ago

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I feel bad for Starlo. (pt. 8)

The FF could have just told him how they felt years ago if this "damaged personality" started as soon as the Wild East came to be (which now I think only happened after Clover showed up... so... for a few hours. For a few hours was Starlo's personality "damaged"). Star is the type who'd give up anything for his loved ones, even his biggest dream. Ceroba didn't have to pretend all this time and lie to him to make him feel better (we know this whole Wild East thing often annoys her though she tries to hide it).

His friends just spilled the truth to him when he was at his most emotionally damaged (after they admitted that they didn't like or appreciate his efforts, he STARTED to break), then decided to leave him all alone. And you wonder why he cracked. And you wonder why he tried to kill Clover. Because the kid represented everything you all were shaming him for, for no reason other than he was too passionate for your taste, too willing to feel important, too hurt to face the truth of feeling like a nobody. And you were not willing to understand.

this is what ultimately broke him

No one tried to ask, "Hey Star, you doing okay? Need some help? What's about Clover you admire so much?" No, they just leave. Feisty Four, you could have quit this job long ago and gone home (but apparently they DO like the job since the gang doesn't split up; in other words it took them less than 1 day to give up on Starlo until he came to beg them for forgiveness.. sigh).

#i don't understand the fact that a character needs to “work on themselves” because they were simply overly enthusiastic for a valid reason #for a few FREAKING HOURS #don't get it at all #after spending most of their life feeling unfulfilled and without a purpose #as I mentioned Ceroba should be aware of how much all this means to starlo #she knows he was rarely ecstatic before he found westerns #it became his biggest dream to live this fantasy #to feel important #and no #nobody tried to communicate their feelings before he was already too much into the fantasy #had anyone said ANYTHING things wouldn't have ended up like this #uty #undertale yellow #starlo uty #uty starlo #uty feisty five #i will forever defend this man

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octoagentmiles · 1 year ago

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Headcanons about Paani and Natquik's relationship and how they met? 👀

uh well actually ik it's kinda wild n out there but I headcanon they met like this:

/s /lh fhdhdjdbsk sorry I'm not 100% sure what you want from me here?? 😅

but!! as for their relationship—at the end of that ep Paani says he's going to stay with Natquik for a little while, so that they can continue to study the flowing water that they found together, but we never actually get to see this ourselves. so!! it's extremely possible that Paani and Natquik are buddy-buddy now, but we just haven't gotten to see them interact since their friendship started!!

so 👀. some hcs 🤲 ↓

474637942749 years ago I made a post talking about how while yes, Paani is obviously a lot like Kwazii, he also has just as much in common with Barnacles. it's just more subtle.

I think that during their time together, Natquik probably would've picked up on that. Natquik's been alone for forever, and has been shown struggling when he's forced to share private space with others—but I think once he started to notice Paani's similarities to Barnacles, he became an infinitely more tolerable roommate.

... however.

one of Natquik's biggest grievances with Red (*the red fox) was how he ruined what would've been his "peaceful and quiet" vacation.

and. um.

... that's not exactly Paani's specialty.

so they likely had to get used to each other's *style* the hard way at first.

Paani's not the type to intentionally start conflict, or even get outwardly annoyed with others (from what we've seen so far anyway). he's very easygoing, and even if it confuses him, I can see him accepting the way Natquik works pretty quickly.

but he does have a habit of doing things without asking first, or considering how his actions may indirectly affect others before doing them, in the name of The Greater Good™ (such as stealing the GUP-H so he could bring water to the elephants). the Octonauts can forgive him easily, because he *does* usually end up saving the day,

but. uh.

Natquik's not as chill (ironically) with that.

so!! it's sorta less of them having to get used to each other, and more Natquik having to get used to Paani lol

Paani absolutely ended up meeting Natquik's penguin fam while he was staying with him, and they immediately loved him (as all birds he meets do), which GREATLY helped Natquik warm up to him.

maybe they also told Paani about how Natquik's just having a hard time, 'cause of how long he spent alone. and Paani, who was alone for an indefinite length of time himself, until he was found by the Octonauts... decides to open up to Natquik.

they talk for a bit.

then Boom! Friendship™ 🌠🌈 [INSERT CONFETTI CANONS 🎉🥳] !!

okay there was probably more to it than that, but we don't know how LONG they were roomies for—could've been only a few days, or a month, max, knowing Paani's dislike of staying put for too long lmao.

either way, I'd love to see them meet again, after having gotten to know each other. I think they'd make a really cool dynamic, if they were to go out on a real adventure or mission together. they MET in that episode, but they didn't really interact much—Paani was on his own, and Natquik was with Dashi in the Octoray.

and Natquik desperately needs more screentime anyway 👁️👁️

#octonauts #octonauts above and beyond #ask #✨ also ignore how i recorded that clip from youtube ✨#i can't tell if there's bad bg noise because. of my bg noise. but hopefully it's all good #octonauts paani #professor natquik #natquik #octonauts natquik #so many tags for one man #by golly #i think natquik would start treating paani like one of his old students lol #and it would WORK–

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afewproblems · 2 years ago

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Part Two of my Stranger Things Steddie AU, Steve always fall first, falls fastest. You can read part one Here!

Eddie watches as Steve peels out of the driveway, staring straight ahead with a blank vacant expression on his face. He looks at Jeff, who shrugs and takes one last hit from their joint before flicking it onto the concrete and stubbing it out.

Eddie frowns, Steve usually waits until Eddie is ready to leave before they both drive home, saying one last goodnight on the driveway.

The evenings grow longer and longer with each passing day as they crawl their way into summer, but it's dark now. The warmth of the day gives way to a cool breeze that ruffles Eddie's hair, and rustles the grass. He shivers lightly and rolls his shoulders before turning on his heel towards the garage. Light streams out from the door, illuminating Eddie's puzzled face as he walks back inside.

Gareth looks up at him, catching his eyes once before they drop to the bottle in his hands. His fingers play with the paper label, peeling it up at the corners.

Steve would always show up, like clockwork, every Sunday with a six pack of some variety, and sit in on their practices. It's nice, not something he ever would have predicted after surviving being nearly eaten alive by a bunch of bats from another dimension.

But if the new scars and nightmares come as a set with a few new friends that had dragged him out of Hell, who was he to complain?

He likes Robin, likes her dry wit and stubborn attitude, she loves fiercely once you've been chosen but doesn't seem shy about calling you an idiot if you deserve it.

He likes Nancy, likes how smart and unexpectedly tough she is, the woman can shoot a gun like no one's business. She's a bit more prickly than Robin, which is saying something, but she cares a lot.

He likes Steve.

He really likes Steve.

Steve, who had picked him up when he was bleeding out and ragdolling in the Upside Down and carried him through the last open gate.

Steve, who sings along to Tears for Fears and Wham! in his car only to turn around and pull out a Queen cassette from the glove department.

Steve, who bitches and moans about driving the kids around to the arcade or to the Munson trailer for D&D nights, but never says no.

Steve, who stays up with Eddie during movie nights and listens to his wild ramblings without interrupting. He smiles and asks questions that prompt even longer responses, and seems content to simply listen.

Steve, who is definitely straight as an arrow, and would probably panic if he found out about Eddie and his little secret.

"Hey uh," Eddie asks after a beat, reaching for the last unopened beer in the cardboard, "did Steve have to go?"

He twists the cap and flicks it towards the bin, it bounces off the lip and clinks against the floor.

"Woah, I didn't know we knew Larry Bird?" Jeff snorts as he wanders through the door and exaggeratedly ducks with his hands over his head before dropping next to Gareth on the couch. Eddie rolls his eyes as Jeff relaxes against the sagging cushions and drapes his arms along the back.

Gareth's eyes flick once to Jeff before coming back to rest on Eddie's face, "I uh, dunno man, I think Steve just had to go home. He didn't really get into it".

Eddie frowns at the tense line of the bassist's shoulders.

"Who cares man,” Jeff scoffs with a smirk, “now we can actually talk about our set list without having to stop and explain every little thing”.

Gareth winces and closes his eyes with a shake of his head.

"Oh, fuck off," Eddie snarls as he steps towards Jeff who freezes at the sudden proximity, "I didn't say anything when you insisted on bringing Mary O'Donnell around to every other practice two years ago--"

"What the fuck does that have to do with anything?" Jeff growls as he stands up, rising up to Eddie's eye level, "I liked Mary, you told me to go for it?"

"Exactly!" Eddie yells. He breathes in sharply as the words finally register.

Oh shit.

"Oh shit..." Gareth whispers.

Jeff's mouth opens and closes, his expression jumps from incredulity before dropping into shock.

Eddie had done a lot of growing in the last few weeks if he did say so himself, and he did - loudly and to whoever would listen. He could be brave, he had proved that with Dustin and the bats, he had proved that by diving into Lovers Lake to chase after Steve.

Bravery was no longer a first for him, he could stand his ground and hold firm in the face of adversity.

But the Upside Down had nothing on admitting that he had a crush on the former ‘King-Steve’ to his two best friends.

Eddie whirls around and walks out of the garage.

He makes it about twenty feet before rapid footsteps echo behind him, not that he had been moving all that quickly.

The world feels as though he's wading through quicksand, each step dragging him down, he sighs and stops walking.

Gareth catches up, mild surprise etched on his face.

Eddie's eyes trail from Gareth back towards the garage, Jeff stands in silhouette just outside the door.

"Come on man," Gareth says softly, "just come back inside, we didn't know--"

"What am I even doing," Eddie mutters, he scrubs a rough hand against his face, "I know how it sounds dude, you don't have to chase after me, I know I'm being an idiot".

Gareth freezes for a moment and crosses his arms. His eyes scan Eddie's face as though he can read every wild thought traipsing through his mind, it's not a comfortable feeling.

In the distance Jeff cups his hands around his mouth and yells, "Gareth! Did you tell him, we didn't know?"

Gareth rolls his eyes and throws a hand behind him to swat the air, as though he wishes Jeff's head were there instead.

"For what it's worth," Gareth says with a sigh, "I don't think you're being an idiot…" the words come out in stops and starts, as though each one is weighed carefully before being released.

Gareth was always careful when he spoke, more level headed than Eddie and Jeff, that's why they worked well together. Whenever Eddie or Jeff said something that went too far, Gareth was ready to pull them both back down to earth.

"Steve actually seems like a decent guy I guess, kinda surprised about it but whatever," Gareth shakes his head once before breathing out through his nose, "and you're absolutely sure about this?"

Eddie doesn't even think before he nods, "Yeah man, I'm crazy about him".

Gareth hums, his eyes haven't left Eddie's face once the entire time they've been standing on the sidewalk in the dark, they are in between street lights but that doesn’t seem to stop Gareth from reading Eddie like a book.

"Okay, I'm going to tell you something, but if this goes absolutely sideways, I cannot be held responsible in any way," Gareth says once again in that slow, measured pace.

"Jesus, I've never known you to be this cryptic man, I kind of love it," Eddie huffs nervously, his hands dropping to his jeans to wipe the sweat from his palms. A light breeze catches him once again, caressing his hair as it billows down the lane, he shivers.

"Steve likes you, we all know -well maybe not Bozo over there," Gareth gestures back towards the garage where Jeff continues to linger, "but you're not an idiot".

Eddie blinks.

Steve likes him.

Steve likes him?

"What uh…what are you talking about?" Eddie manages, the words stick to his tongue, his mouth suddenly drier than the sahara.

Gareth breathes out heavily and shifts, his hands come back up to cross over his chest.

"Dude, please don't make me explain it, you seriously didn't know?"

"No?!" Eddie hisses, his hands climb to his hair, gripping the wild curls and pulling harshly. Steve liked him? How long had this been going on for? How long had he been completely oblivious?

"I mean, I kinda thought you were waiting him out, trying to let him down easy, you're not the kind of person to string someone along so I hoped it wasn't because you liked the attention," Gareth mumbles with a shrug.

Eddie's heart beats a wild staccato as the information continues to sink in, Steve likes him…

"Oh my God," Eddie whispers, "oh my God I-I have to go," he steps away, his shoes crunching against gravel as he turns on the spot, "I have to talk to him!"

Gareth nods, a small bewildered smile blooms on his face as he shakes his head, "I mean, yeah man, go get him?"

Eddie takes off past Gareth towards his van, still parked on the driveway, he flips off Jeff as the other man hoots and blows a kiss after him.

But it doesn't matter. A giddy euphoria bubbles up from his chest and throws itself from his lips as a wild cackle. He tosses open the door to the van and scrambles inside, Gareth's words echo over and over in his mind, Steve likes him, he has a chance!

The normally twenty-minute drive from Gareth's parents place seems to take forever, he hits all eight lights on the normally sleepy mainstreet and with every stop Eddie feels like he's vibrating out of his pants.

He finally reaches the Harrington House, pulls haphazardly onto the drive and flings himself out of the van, just barely turning off the engine and pulling the Emergency brake on.

Eddie races toward the front steps and raps his knuckles against the door with three successive knocks. The house is dark, no lights, not even the flashes of the sitting room television can be seen from the front window.

For a moment there is nothing, no sound from the other side of the door. Eddie swallows and knocks again.

Then, the porch light flicks on with a metallic click.

The door opens just enough for Eddie to make out the shape of Steve, the hall light remains off, leaving Steve in shadow.

"Eddie?" Steve says, his voice rough, "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, uh, hey Stevie,” Eddie manages, a wry smile threatening to take over his face the longer he stands in the doorway, “can I come in?"

Steve hesitates, his hands remain fixed on the door but a slight tremble runs up his arm to his shoulder.

Eddie falters for a moment, a hint of anxiety slithers through his chest. Was Gareth wrong?

Steve sighs suddenly and pulls open the door, sliding sideways to let him pass.

The giddy feeling in Eddie's chest slowly dissipates as he steps over the threshold into the dark foyer. He reaches over to the light switch on the wall and turns it on as Steve curses and turns away abruptly.

"Stevie?" Eddie says, his voice pitched with alarm, "hey what's going on?"

"Don't, please don't call me that Eds," Steve whispers, his shoulders shake but he remains facing the opposite wall.

Eddie's stomach drops at the wet sound to his voice, the slight hitch, the shake of his shoulders.

"Oh shit Stevie, come here," Eddie says as he reaches for Steve’s shoulder, he grasps it lightly and gently begins to turn the other man towards him. Steve doesn’t move at first, holding firm, staring straight ahead and away from Eddie.

He only has to smooth his ringed hand along Steve’s shoulder and up his neck and suddenly his arms are full as Steve crashes into him.

“Oh sweetheart, its okay,” Eddie whispers. He brings his arms up around Steve, one hand curls into his hair while the other comes up around the small of his back.

Steve’s face is tucked into his shoulder, his hands grip the fabric of Eddie’s shirt and vest harshly. He shudders and breathes, as though trying to stop the tears as they continue to fall, wetting Eddie's shoulder.

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles, the words catch in Eddie's hair but he shakes his head at the sound.

Eddie frowns, “What on earth are you sorry for?”

Steve is quiet for a moment, Eddie takes it as an opportunity to kick the door closed behind them before planting his feet to stabilize the weight of Steve in his arms.

When he looks back, Steve is facing him. His large hazel eyes are red rimmed and shining with tears, his nose and cheeks are flushed and his hair is a wild mess, but he looks beautiful to Eddie.

“I don’t,” Steve whispers eventually, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable".

It clicks.

Why Gareth was being so careful, so cryptic earlier, why Steve must have left early.

"Did Gareth say something to you?" Eddie murmurs, the words are soft but there's a hint of anger there.

Steve stiffens and shakes his head, a little too quickly. He bites his lip and makes to pull away but Eddie holds him tight.

"Stevie, come on, I can't help if I don't know what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours," Eddie says, his heart beats wildly in his chest as Steve slowly raises his head to catch Eddie's eyes once more.

Steve's eyebrows are furrowed slightly, but the slightest hint of hope lingers in those hazel eyes.

Eddie swallows down his inner voice that screams, run, over and over and over - because isn't that the first tenant of bravery?

Doing something, even though you're scared shit less?

"I'm going to try something here sweetheart," Eddie says slowly, carefully, all the years hanging out with Gareth have paid off in the strangest way.

He slowly leans in and presses his lips, dry and chapped, to Steve's.

It's soft, nothing more than skin to skin, Steve is frozen as though his body doesn't know how to process what's happening and God Dammit that's not what Eddie is hoping for.

But then, Steve's eyes flutter closed and his body melts and his arms slide from the front of Eddie's shirt into his hair and around his neck and he's kissing him.

He's kissing him!

It's a little wet, Steve tastes like tears and his nose is running slightly but it's still perfect.

Eddie smiles and reaches us to cup Steve's cheek with one hand, his thumb caresses along his cheekbone across the constellation of freckles and moles on Steve's face.

Beautiful.

Eddie swipes the barest hint of tongue along the seam of Steve's lips before catching himself, slow and steady.

Eddie pulls back but leaves his hand on Steve's face and smiles widely at the dazed expression on his face.

"You with me sweetheart?" Eddie whispers, grazing his thumb once more across Steve's cheek as he says it.

A deep blush blooms across Steve's face, spanning from the tips of his ears, across his cheeks, and down to his neck. Eddie files that reaction away for later.

"Yeah Eds, I'm with you," Steve says softly with his own small smile.

There's a lot to talk about still, but it's certainly a start as Eddie leads Steve down the familiar hallway and into the sitting room.

And Eddie can't wait.

For everyone that asked to be tagged once part two was up, here you go! (I hope these tags worked, I haven't used Tumblr in FOREVER)

@what-am-i-doing-with-my-non-lifeon-life @henderdads @unclewaynemunson @wearelosersyoudumbfuck @samcoxramblings @stevesbipanic @cicadabeat @xthehatchick @cr0w-culture @moonshadows-13 @tv-mind @classicdinosaurdeathpose

And to @monstrousfemale who wrote such a beautiful second part to my initial post (please go check it out because it is lovely) I hope this holds a candle to yours! Thank you again for going over linking posts!!

#stranger things s4 #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #let steve cry #steve x eddie #stranger things fanfic #drabbles #fixed it everyone #thank you everyone #oblivious eddie munson #we love supportive Jeff and Gareth #Somehow Gareth became a pretty cool character to write...#I hope you all enjoy!

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