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glasschampagne · 2 years

Note

Hi! I saw that you accept requests, and if it's alright, could I possibly request a Sirius Black x Hufflepuff! Reader where the reader travels back in time accidentally, then Sirius helps her go back, but they fall in love in the process? I truly understand if you won't be able to write it! Sending hugs xx

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Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 3.2 k

Warnings: some cursing, mild descriptions of blood

Author's Note: So I made up some facts, they're quite subtle but just a heads up. I hope you like this little piece <3

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Hogwarts, Northern Corridor, November 6th 1987

Charlie Weasley ran through the corridors, laughing way too hard for someone who had just gotten out of a two-hour detention. His smile grew wider upon spotting two figures in Hufflepuff robes. Tonks and Y/N. Just the girls he was looking for.

“You’ll never guess what I just stole from Filch’s office” he pants.

“Is it a dragon egg?” Tonks asked, sharing a glance with an amused Y/N. Charlie had an obsession with dragons, which led him to see dragon eggs where there were none more than once.

“Nothing that cool” Charlie said. He was well aware he was being teased, but he decided to leave snarky remarks for later.

He stretched out his arm and positioned himself so that his body hid the object from the eyes of everyone but his friends.

“A Time-Turner” Y/N said, recognizing the object “Charlie why would you take this?”

“Because you can help me figure out how to use it so that I can study and sloth around at the same time” he replied like it was nothing.

“I will not do such a thing”

“Yes, you will, because deep down you want to use it just as much as I do”

He was not wrong. She knew the dangers, but she also desperately wanted to test the limits of time.

“Give me that” she muttered, grabbing the object from his hand.

“Oh, I should warn you—”

But she never found out what Charlie’s warning was. Because as soon as her hand touched the Time-Turner, the air left her lungs and she felt herself being pulled away. Of course, leave it to Charlie to forget mentioning the device was fucked.

She closed her eyes, only to open them and find herself in an unknown place. Well, maybe not unknown; but it was not her Hogwarts. For starters, they were more people, it was louder and House colours didn’t seem to be a problem for anyone. She guessed it must be before the war, before a delusional maniac decided with people were worthy of living.

Her suspicions were confirmed soon enough. Right there on the wall was a calendar.

Hogwarts, Northern Corridor, November 1976

Remus Lupin was practically prancing through the corridors. He lost track of time, and he knew damn well his friends weren’t about to study by themselves.

Students stayed out of his way; everyone knew to stay away from his way when he was in such a rush. Everyone but one girl.

He crashed against her, spitting apologies. But when he looked at her, he didn’t recognize her. She looked lost and confused.

“Hi, sorry for crashing against you” he said “Uhm, are you new?”

“I, uhm” she was blabbering. What was she supposed to say? Luckily the bloke seemed to be far more observant than anyone else around, spotting the Time-Turner in her hand right away.

“Oh, I get it. Time-Turner, confused stare…What year?” he asked.

“1987” she replied, relieved that he wasn’t freaking out on her, or ratting her out. She doubted McGonagall would forget such an offence, and accompanying Charlie in his endless detentions wasn’t an activity she particularly looked forward to.

“Well shit” he simply said.

Yes, shit indeed.

“Can you help me fix this piece of crap?” she asked, hoping he was just as smart as he was observant.

He seemed to consider his answer, biting his lips in concentration. She took a moment to examine him. He looked like Dora’s type. Smart (if she was not wrong), kind, and a little bit sexy… in a rugged and tired kind of way. And in Y/N’s opinion, he would be much better for her than any of Dora’s ex-flings. She loved her friend to death, but she tended to take in a bit far on the rugged part, some of her exes looked like alley cats.

“Listen” the bloke’s voice forced her back to reality “I suck with these things, but my mate Pete is great at tinkering with soft machines”

“Works for me” she shrugged “I’m Y/N by the way”

“Remus” he replied “Remus Lupin”

Hogwarts, Gryffindor Common Room, November 6th 1976

“I’m so sorry I have to take you to the dorms” Remus whispers as they climbed up the stairs to the boy’s wing “But Time-Turners are regulated by the Ministry and they are way too many snitches in this school”

She giggled as they reached his door. He opened it, allowing her to go in first.

Yeah, she thought, Dora could definitely use a gentleman like this

“Y/N, this is Peter” he said, pointing at a mousy boy laying on a bed. “He can help you fix your… clock”

Upon hearing his name, Peter sat up straight; smiling mischievously at her.

“Well, hello Moony’s lady friend” he teased

Lady friend. The word attracted the attention of the other two boys in the room, and Remus swore under his breath. The new pair of eyes watched with interest as she shook Peter’s hand.

“Y/N Y/L/N” she said “A pleasure to meet you Pete”

“Peter Pettigrew” he replied “Pleasure to meet you too”

She froze instantly, unable to contain her shock. “Pettigrew?” she asked, hoping she heard wrong. Hoping she wasn’t shaking the hand of a dead man.

“Why so interested in Wormy gorgeous? I’m right here” a husky voice spoke beside her.

She turned, her eyes meeting the brightest pair of grey irises she had ever seen. He was stretching out his hand, a somehow nice hand.

“Sirius Black at your service” he said winking at her when she took his hand.

Sirius Black. She immediately let go of his hand, stepping away from him. He frowned.

“Wait, this is a Time-Turner, not a clock” Peter said before Sirius could question her reaction. “Moony, is your girlfriend a time traveller or something? Past or future? She knows something about me, that’s why she said my name like that! Do we know each other?”

Obviously, Remus wouldn’t hold up in questioning, because he broke down at Peter’s rant and began hyperventilating.

“Yes. No. I mean, yes, but no. no, I mean, no; but also, yes. The ‘80s? I forgot. Fuck.”

A curly-headed bloke burst out laughing. He was the only one whose name she didn’t know yet.

“Relax Moony” mystery bloke said “Breathe”. He then turned to her, an amused smile on his handsome face “James Potter” he said

“Y/N Y/L/N” she replied with a smile. She recognized his name, of course she did. But she managed to get a hold of her reaction this time. She didn’t want to explain to him what future awaited him in 1981.

“And to answer your questions” she continued, turning to Peter. “Yes, to the time travel part. No to being Remus’ girlfriend, we just met actually. And regarding your other questions…”

“Of course, you know each other Wormy” Sirius interrupted, placing an arm around her shoulders “We clearly get married in the ‘80s. She is my future wife, right?”

The way he was looking at her… it was hard to remember he was a cold-blooded murderer who betrayed his friends.

“Sirius… I was born in 1973” she replied, looking at him tiredly. His jaw dropped, and James began laughing even louder than before. “But I do know you Peter. Well, I know of you. Order of Merlin First Class”

It wasn’t a lie, not entirely. It was a half-truth, given she had decided to omit the reasons why he was awarded the prize. She had a gut feeling it was the right thing to do.

But Peter didn’t seem to care. He was just looked very pleased with himself.

“See Moony? I told you I was smarter than you”

The boys laughed. The notion of anyone being smarter than their Moony seemed like utter nonsense to them.

But among those laughs, there was a sigh. A hopeless romantic sigh. Peter could recognize those anywhere; the way James was always fawning over Lily. Yet the sigh didn’t come from James. It came from Sirius. And by the way he was looking at Y/N, Peter knew his friend wasn’t about to get over her easily.

“I can fix your Time-Turner” he told her “Though it may take a few weeks, this kind of machinery is quite delicate”

Of course, it was bullshit. He had fixed it already, when everyone laughed. But in Peter’s opinion, a few weeks in the ‘70s with Sirius weren’t going to hurt Y/N.

A few weeks turned into a few months. Y/N had a whole new identity, and she was enjoying it a bit too much.

She became Y/N Howell, Remus’ muggle-born cousin. And by extension, she became somehow an honorary Marauder without planning on it.

She had grown fond of the group of boys. Especially Sirius. She hadn’t meant for it to happen. He was a murderer, a killer of the worst kind. Or he would be eventually. Yet she still let him teach her to ride a broom, and in exchange, she taught him to knit.

And suddenly they were enjoying the other’s embrace every night. It just felt right, like finally finding a clear path after being lost your entire life.

In addition to the Marauders, she had Lily Evans. She was too smart for her own good. She uncovered the façade in a matter of minutes and had helped Y/N adjust to the reality of being a teenager a decade earlier than she was supposed to.

Lily also made sure she passed all of her classes. Apparently, it was her life mission to never let any of her friends fail. The girl had no problem handling disgusting ingredients in Potions, the kind that made Y/N want to gag. And she was so compassionate. Y/N was sure Lily would make a great healer, the way she had taken a creature’s leg in potions and declared it to be sad.

“See the blood clogged?” she asked “The limb was cut off when the creature was still alive. It’s a shame, the poor thing must have suffered”

Yes, Lily would be a great healer indeed. She had a lot of practice healing Potter, who was an excellent quidditch player but took the game way too seriously.

Seriously. That was a word that became elemental in her vocabulary. Sirius was always making jokes about his own name, and she laughed every single time. She laughed knowing that eventually the same name that caused her bliss would be plastered on the Prophet, celebrating his capture.

He was unaware of the future that awaited him, he was living the moment. So, she decided to do the same. This Sirius wasn’t a killer, he was just a boy. And as the summer came, also came the realization that she was in love. And she could never recover her heart from his clutches.

But summer also meant she had spent almost a year in the past. She had to get back.

“I have something to confess” Peter said the day he returned the Time-Turner. “I fixed it the same day you arrived. I just wanted to give Sirius some time to spend with you, I could tell he was whipped the moment he met you”

“Thank you” she whispered, hugging the mousy boy, well aware that the moment she returned to her time, the boy that had become her friend would be dead. Just like James and Lily. All because of Sirius.

All because of future Sirius. Her Sirius, the one standing in front of her with tears in his eyes, could never do that. How she wished she could change the future.

She hugged him. She felt his arms wrapping around her waist, holding her close to his chest.

“We always find our way home” he whispered in her ear “We’ll find each other, I promise. I’ll find you my love”

With a sob, she turns the Time-Turner. She closes her eyes, ready to disappear from Sirius’ arms.

He was not ready. One second she was in his arms, the next there was nothing. Yet, he didn’t cry. He was confident they would eventually find each other again. They wouldn’t lose their love a second time.

Hogwarts, Northern Corridor, November 6th 1987

When Y/N opened her eyes, she was exactly where she had last been. Charlie and Tonks were in front of her, going crazy over her sudden reappearance.

“Oh, that was brilliant!” he cried “You have to tell us everything, where did you go, did you meet anyone? Shit did you change something?”

“I only stayed a minute there’s nothing to tell” She lied. It was believable, she was no longer in Gryffindor robes, and there was no way they could know what actually went down. She hated concealing the truth from her friends, but really how could she begin to explain that she had stayed a year in the past, befriended a bunch of dead war heroes and fell in love with a killer?

She could have explained if she really wanted to, but she was not ready to speak about it. The wound was still fresh.

“Oh, C’mon—”

“Shut the fuck up Weasley she said nothing happened” Tonks interrupted.

Y/N looked at her friend gratefully. She was always one to respect her boundaries, never pushing further than what she could have been comfortable with.

“Your heart is broken, that is obvious to me” Tonks told her once they were alone “But whatever you found in the past, you can find again. That person is still somewhere”

She couldn’t tell her that she knew damn well where he was. It hurt too much to even think about it. Her sweet love was rotting in a cell, slowly going insane. And the worst part was that he deserved it. He deserved every punishment life could throw his way.

Godric’s Hollow, July 1994

Y/N had only visited Peter’s memorial once. But it had been almost a year since Sirius’ escape, and it was the least she owned that sweet mousy boy who had been her friend.

And speaking of Sirius… his face was everywhere. Wanted posters covered the entirety of wizard society. He looked unhinged in those pictures, so unlike the boy she loved. The boy she still loved despite his sins.

How could he do that to Peter? Peter who loved candy and laughing until his cheeks hurt. Peter who had lied straight to her face just to give his future killer the chance to woo the girl he fancied. Selfless, insecure Peter…

All that was left of him was a thumb. It was the only thing in his memorial, displayed in a glass box. How knew Sirius was powerful enough to only leave a thumb? A tiny, bloodied thumb…

She froze, shivers running down her spine. She could hear Lily next to her. Blood accumulation. The limb was cut off when the creature was still alive. Still alive. Still alive.Peter was alive. The bastard was fucking alive, and Sirius was paying for a crime he never committed.

She had to find Remus and tell him immediately.

Hogwarts, Professor R. J. Lupin’s Office, July 1994.

She didn’t even have to say a word. The moment she barged into the room Remus seemed to know exactly what she wanted to say.

“I know” he said. He was wrapped in a blanket, staring at his feet and looking miserable. “Peter escaped, and no one will believe me. He’s awaiting the kiss”

No. no, no, no, no. He couldn’t lose his soul. It was not fair. She had grieved for Peter. She had grieved for her lost love. And right when she found out there was nothing to mourn, she would lose her love. Permanently.

She collapsed. She let the tears run free. She had just lost her soulmate for the third time. First when she had to return to her time. Second when he was convicted. And lastly now. For worse, now he was being stripped of his soul. They wouldn’t meet in another life. They wouldn’t reunite in the afterlife. He was truly gone.

She barely noticed a kid barging into the room until she heard the words coming out of his mouth.

“We did it he escaped!”

She broke into sobs of relief. “He’s safe, Oh Merlin”

The relief was so, she didn’t even notice he had the same unruly hair and green eyes her friends used to have.

Remus gave the boy a reassuring nod, letting him know the woman in the room was on their side.

“You understand he’ll have to go into hiding right?” Remus asked, crouching next to her and offering a comforting touch. “Until he’s proved innocent, he cannot risk contacting anyone”

She nodded, managing to stop sobbing “I know. As long as he’s safe I’ll be alright”

He hugged her. They might not have been actual cousins, but they were family in every way that mattered.

A cheap flat in Muggle London, June 1995

Everyone knew about the tragedy that had taken place in the final Triwizard Championship task. A student was dead, a student from the house she belonged to. To make matters worse, James and Lily’s son had witnessed it all, as if the poor boy hadn’t experienced enough.

“It’s official. He’s back” Tonks’ Patronus spoke “It’s time for the Order to rise again. Follow the Patronus to the meeting point”

Fucking Voldemort. If it wasn’t for him. Peter wouldn’t have betrayed the Potters, they would be alive and Sirius would be a free man. She wanted to kill the bastard.

Y/N followed the ghostly bunny (Tonks said it was a bunny, though her Patronus was slowly starting to look less like a bunny and more like some rabid beast)., and she knew exactly where she was.

She had never been there before, but it was an exact replica of the nightmares that tormented a young Sirius Black. He would wake up sweaty, in tears. She would hug him and listen to his sorrows until he was calm enough to fall asleep in her arms.

Her boss Kingsley was the one to open the door, and for the first time ever, she ignored him blatantly. She ignored him, and everyone else in the room, except one man.

He looked tired, stressed. But that didn’t stop her from embracing him with every bit of strength in her body.

“Y/N” he whispered. He was dreaming, and she would vanish into thin air, just like she did back in 1976.

“I found you” she said, her voice almost breaking. She held him tighter as if she feared he would be the one to vanish this time.

And that small action was what assured him this was real. She was here.

“Of course, you did, I never doubted it” he held onto her, revelling in the scent of her hair, the shape of her body. “We always find our way home, and you are my home, Y/N. If you hadn't found me, I would have found a way to you” He didn’t even care if everyone in the room could see him cry, he didn’t care if they heard his sappy words. He only cared that she came back to him.

He was home. She was home.

321 notes · View notes

katmoonz · 3 years

Text

Depression

Pairing: Wolfstar x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3034

Includes: TW suicidal thoughts, depression, mentions of missing meals, crying, fluff, hugs, angst to fluff, comfort

Do not post any of my work anywhere else!!! I’m fine with reblogs but not with people stealing my work.

Notes: I have depression, this fic is kinda based off of my experience with depression. I wanted more than anything for someone to notice how badly I was struggling and I was in desperate need of a hug. I can’t change the past but I can write down my thoughts, feelings and what I needed at the time.

Thank you @quindolyn for helping me to fix a couple bits and for helping me decide on the ending xx

Depression is completely unpredictable. You might feel on top of the world one minute and suddenly feel miserable the next. You smile around your friends and family hoping that they don’t notice that anything is wrong but deep down you just want someone to notice, to care, to ask you how you are or just hold you while you cry it all out. You want to die yet you can’t bring yourself to do the actions that would end it all because that scares you even more than living.

Lately, you had been feeling very happy. Remus and Sirius were wonderful boyfriends and would do everything they could to make you laugh or smile. Your favourite moments with Remus are the ones where he decides to cuddle with you, there is nothing more relaxing than just resting your head on his chest and listening to the thump of his heart and his steady breaths.

The best moments with Sirius are when he tries to make up his own jokes, most of the jokes he tries to tell aren’t even funny but that somehow makes it funnier when he tells you a bad one-liner whilst in detention. The sweetest thing about Sirius is that when you least expect it he curls up on the bed and sleeps next to you as Padfoot. It’s the sweetest thing ever waking up in Remus’ arms to Padfoot lying across your chest, Remus just watches over the pair of you with a smile upon his face at seeing his two lovers sleeping so peacefully.

This morning you had woken up and felt like crap, you couldn't quite place it so you skipped breakfast and had a lie-in instead. This caused you to miss your first lesson and most of lunch. You managed to go to your next lesson though which was Charms with your boyfriend Remus.

At first, you tried to concentrate but you felt like a cloud had settled itself over your head causing you to struggle with your work.

You’d been feeling better for a while now but for some reason today had just left you feeling miserable. For the rest of class, you sat with your head in your hand gazing out the window.

Remus could tell that you weren’t paying attention to the class and was starting to grow concerned. “y/n, you okay?” He whispers in your ear.

Not wanting to draw any attention to yourself or bother him, you just nod and force a smile in the hopes that you could pretend that everything was fine.

The bell rang a few minutes later signalling the end of the class period. You had History of Magic next, Remus wasn’t in that class with you but Sirius was. Remus walked you to your next class observing your behaviour.

You weren’t smiling and didn’t speak at all on the way there simply looking at the ground. Remus stopped with you at the classroom door and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright love? You know you can talk to me if something is wrong.”

Looking up at him you sigh. “I’m fine,” you say quietly before turning around and walking into the classroom.

Remus was growing very concerned with your behaviour, something was clearly wrong but you weren’t telling him.

Just then Sirius walks down the corridor. “Moony, decided to switch classes have you?” He jokes.

Not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation Remus grabs his arm and pulls him over to an empty classroom shoving him in the door.

“I need a favour,” said Remus in a serious tone.

“What Moons?” replies Sirius, confused at the sudden change in Remus’ behaviour.

“I need you to watch y/n for me and make sure she’s alright. Something is wrong and I want to help her but she won’t tell me anything.” blurts Remus.

Sirius pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry Remus, I’ll keep an eye on her.” Sirius leaves the empty room and proceeds to walk into the History of Magic classroom.

Sirius seats himself beside you but you don’t notice at first because you are spaced out not paying any attention to the lecture being given by Binns.

You felt like crap to put it simply. You wanted to focus on your classes so badly but your brain was just telling you no.

Your brain is running at a hundred miles an hour making you feel even worse. *I’m going to fail all of my classes. Why am I so useless? Do the boys love me or do they just tolerate me? Nobody loves me, not really. I wish I was dead, why can’t I just die?*

You feel slow tears make their way down your face. You sniffle softly not wanting to bother anyone.

Sirius quickly notices your tears as you sniffle next to him. *Moony is right* thought Sirius *something is very wrong.*

Sirius reaches a hand out to yours underneath the desk and gives it a gentle squeeze as a reminder that he is there for you.

Finally, you have enough of your self-deprecating thoughts and abruptly stand up, grab your things and leave despite only having twenty minutes of class left. Sirius gets up and follows you, grabbing your hand as you leave the room.

The pair of you walk silently through the castle until you get back to the Gryffindor common room. Sirius seats you at the couch in front of the fire before grabbing your bag and chucking it aside.

Sirius sits down next to you as you stare into the ornate fireplace with tears still slowly rolling down your face. “Y/n love, what’s wrong?” He softly asks.

Instead of answering him, you rest your head on his shoulder. Sirius brings his arms around you to pull you into a hug. The pair of you sit like that for a while, listening to the crackle of the fire and your sorrowful sniffles. Sirius simply holds you whilst tears slowly roll down your face.

“I'm sorry, I’m just tired. I think I’m gonna go have a nap” you say softly.

“Alright doll, I’ll see you at dinner then?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you tell him knowing full well that you wouldn’t be in the mood to eat.

Leaving Sirius in the common room you walk up to the boys dorm and throw yourself down on Remus' bed. Grabbing a discarded sweater from Sirius’ bed on the way. You curl up in a ball under the covers on Remus’ bed before letting the tears fall down your face again *why can’t I just feel happy for once in my life? I always fuck everything up, I want to die*

Sirius watches you walk up the stairs to the boys dorm before letting out a sigh and putting his head in his hands. You had never been like this, you were usually so bright and cheerful something bad must have happened because Sirius hadn’t seen even the slightest smile all day.

The bell for the next lesson rings and Sirius remains sitting on the sofa in the common room contemplating what he should tell Remus. He didn’t want to make his friend even more alarmed but he couldn’t hide his feeling of concern for your breakdown in class.

Remus enters the common room behind a babble of second years who were complaining to each other about their homework.

Spotting Sirius on the sofa before the fire he rushes over to sit next to him.

“Where’s y/n? Is she alright?”

Sirius takes a deep breath before sitting back on the sofa. “No, I can see what you mean Rem, she’s very upset.”

“What do you mean?” replies a panicked Remus

Sirius turns to face him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look mate I don’t want to worry you but in class, she just sat and stared into space, then she started crying and walked out.”

Remus let out a pained sigh and ran his hands down his face before clasping them in his lap. “Is she okay? where is she now?”

“I walked her back here, we had a cuddle for a while then she said that she was just tired so she left to have a nap,” replies Sirius

Remus stands up from the sofa and brushes his sweaty palms off of his trousers, “let's go and check on her.”

Sirius rises off of the sofa too, he turns around and looks around the common room before turning back to Remus. “Maybe she just needs space, she told me she’d come down to dinner so let's just give her some time alone and if she doesn't come to dinner then we can go and check on her.”

Staring into Sirius’ stormy grey irises Remus stays standing for another minute before nodding and sitting back down.

The boys study in the common room for an hour in complete silence, both of them preoccupied with thoughts of their distressed girlfriend. Sirius and Remus then head down to dinner, sitting down at the end of the Gryffindor table closest to the doors so that they could spot you as soon as you walked in.

The boys sit and pick at their food mindlessly for ten minutes continuously watching the door in hope that you’d join them for the meal.

Sirius lets out a deep sigh and drops his fork on his plate rubbing his brow before looking at Remus. Remus looks up at him offering a small smile before standing up. “Come on Pads, our girl needs us”

Sirius quickly stands up and grabs Remus’ hand dragging him out of the great hall. The boys briskly walk hand in hand back to the Gryffindor common room and quickly ascend the stairs to the dorm.

Remus opens the door quietly in case you are sleeping and peers in, he feels his heart break as he catches sight of you. You are lying in his bed fast asleep with puffy eyes from crying.

Remus approaches the bed and sits down on the side closest to you. Gently he starts to stroke your face with his hand whilst gesturing for Sirius to come over to the bed with his other hand. Sirius kneels on the bed next to Remus, reaches out and starts playing with your hair.

Remus watches as you slowly awaken, your eyes fluttering as they adjust to the light in the room. “Darling are you alright?” He asks you softly while rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

You feel your eyes fill with tears but don’t want the boys to see them so you roll over and put your face in the pillow hoping that they leave you alone so that you can compose yourself again.

The boys look at each other trying to figure out what to do next. Remus nods at Sirius gesturing for him to try and get a response from you.

“Baby, why didn’t you come to dinner?” You still don’t respond, making Sirius panic. “Please talk to us, we want to help you.” This makes you feel even worse, they just wanted you to be happy but instead, you’d caused them to leave dinner to look for you.

Your body starts to shake as the tears start rolling down your face. You keep the sobs in not wanting to make them even more worried.

Remus carefully runs a hand over your back worried at the lack of response. “Y/n please talk to us, we love you baby we only want to help you. It’s killing me that you are this upset and we want to be here for you.”

This is the last straw and you lose control of your crying, finally letting out the sobs that had been building up all day.

Remus’ heart breaks even more “Oh baby, come here”. Remus turns you over and carefully pulls you into his lap.

You press your head into Remus’ neck and let out all of the emotion that had been held within you all day.

Sirius sits down next to Remus and yourself at the head of the bed, he runs one hand soothingly up and down your back. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

Your entire body shakes with sobs, tears soak the front of Remus’ sweater whilst the boys continue to make attempts to console you.

Remus rocks you in his arms carefully trying to calm you down. “Shh darlin’ it’s okay”

You start hyperventilating from the force of your sobs, Remus pulls you back from his chest slightly brushing hair away from your face.

Sirius reaches out to you and picks up one of your hands, he brings it up to his chest so that you can feel his steady heartbeat. “I know you're upset baby but you’ve got to breathe. Can you do that for me?”

Sirius breathes in and out slowly emphasising each breath for you to follow. “In...and out, in…and out.” This continues for a few minutes as you try to regulate your breathing.

“Good girl, you’re doing such a good job baby”

The sobs slow down slightly as you regain control over your breathing, tears still fall down your face but not as quickly as before.

Remus cups your face in his hand wiping away stray tears with his thumb before pressing a solitary kiss to your temple. “Y/n, what’s wrong? Please tell us” he begs.

You let out a sigh, opening and shutting your mouth a few times trying to come up with something to tell them.

Sirius notices your hesitation and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s okay love, you can tell us anything. I promise you that we’ll try to help you and nothing you say can make us love you any less.”

Looking into his eyes you see nothing but love and concern. You sniffle and wipe one of your sleeves across your face. “I don’t know, I just don’t feel good”

Sirius runs a hand through your hair before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Is it that time of the month baby? You feelin’ sick?”

Tears well up in your eyes again. “No” you reply softly “I don’t feel sick”

“Then what is it babe?” asks Sirius with a small frown on his face.

You consider lying to them for a moment not wanting to burden them with your thoughts and emotions but in the end, it’s the pleading expression upon Remus’ face that makes you give in.

You take a deep breath, “sometimes I just feel really sad, like nothing will get better. I feel like no one loves me. I don't want to bother you guys because I don’t want you to leave me.”

The tears fall down your face again as you turn around and put your face back into Remus’ sweater, your fingers have a firm grasp on him as if letting go would make him disappear.

“Please, please don’t leave me, I’m sorry” you beg them as you cry into Remus’ chest.

Remus feels tears well up in his own eyes but swallows them down in order to comfort you. “No no no, sweetheart, it's okay. I promise that we aren’t leaving you.”

Remus holds you even tighter in his arms “I wish you’d told us that you were feeling like this sooner darling. We love you so much”

Sirius sits in silence listening to Remus comfort you before lifting a hand and rubbing your back. “Look at me baby,” he says with a stern tone.

You look up at him, he has a more pronounced frown upon his face than what was there previously but it softens slightly when he realises that you are watching him.

“You need to tell us when you feel like this okay? You aren’t bothering anyone, we just want to help you and we would never leave you over something like this.”

You remain silent looking away from him, the tears slowing down again so all that remains are the odd couple every few seconds.

“Promise you’ll tell us when you feel like this baby?” He asks, holding your face in his hands.

You sniffle softly before agreeing “m’kay, I promise”

“Good girl, you’re such a good girl for telling us baby,” he says fondly before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. As he pulls away from your cheek he gets a mischievous look upon his face. “Hey babe, what do you call a cow with two legs?”

You look at him confused for a minute before saying “I dunno”

He leans in towards you with a grin upon his face as though he is telling you a secret “Lean beef”

This causes you to giggle, Sirius smirks whilst Remus chuckles. The boys are pleased to hear you laugh after having been deprived of such beautiful sounds for an entire day.

“Good one wasn’t it?” He asks with a cocky smirk on his face.

“No” you reply, still slightly giggling.

“No!” He repeats back to you in disbelief. “What do you mean no? I thought it was a good one”

Remus raises an eyebrow looking at Sirius “c’mon Pads, you can do better than that”

“Fine, I’ve got a better one” huffs Sirius. “What does the perverted frog say?”

“I dunno” you reply again trying to keep a straight face.

“Rubbit” he replies.

This joke was much funnier than the last and you burst out in laughter. You have joyous tears of laughter pouring down your face as you giggle until your sides hurt.

After a while you yawn and rub your eyes, Remus smiles affectionately at you before moving you off of his lap changing positions so that you are laying half on Remus’ chest with Sirius spooning you from behind.

“C’mon darling, let's get some sleep,” he says quietly.

Sirius buries his face in the back of your neck before mumbling out a quick “I love you”

You settle down into their embrace, relaxing all of your muscles and just as you are dozing off to sleep you feel Remus run his hand through your hair as he whispers “I love you darling, more than you will ever know.”

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cqterpillar · 2 years

Note

hii could you write summt about (fem) reader x damon <33 maybe like damon comforting them when their having a hard time xx

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐀𝐋

femalereader x damon albarn

genre(s) ꩜ a little angst to fluff

warning(s) ꩜ mild language

a/n ꩜ tysm for requesting, i loved this request :]

summary ꩜ college life becomes too much for y/n and she accidentally forgets her date with damon while dreading an upcoming assignment.

your college demanded so much of you. papers were due almost every day, your roommate was a pain in the ass, and it had been so long since you sat down to some home cooked meal. to top it all of, your parents were the ones who forced you to go and enroll in a major you didn’t even like!

the end goal of the week was to get in a huge essay on the benefits of creative writing with about a thousand words due, but you had no motivation to write anymore. it felt like all you were doing was writing. a paper here, an evaluative paragraph there, and you were spending your free time practicing more of your writing since the professor you had was practically beating the crap out of you mentally.

you were busy writing that thousand word essay, hoping that for once in your life, your teacher would actually give this paper a b grade at least since you were eager to ditch the feeling of being accustomed to c’s and d’s.

while caught up in penning the draft, you forgot about today’s special occasion - the one year anniversary of you and your boyfriend, damon, finally going on a first date after being iffy of if the other party liked you back. when your phone rang, you sighed, upset that a call would interrupt your thoughts.

you flipped it open and spoke into it with a dash of annoyance, “hello?”

“y/n? it’s me, damon. where are you, love?”

your heart practically stopped.

you forgot.

“honey, i am so sorry. i lost track of time. can we still catch that movie? i really want to go on that date with you!”

when damon talked, it seemed like you could hear his smile. he sounded so patience with you, and to be honest, he always was. “it’s no big deal then. why don’t you just come over to my flat to watch a movie? the one at the theater is already closed now.”

you figured, eh, why not, and threw away the crumpled up essay you had crushed between your hands. it was rubbish anyways. at least, this professor of yours would’ve called it that, you assumed.

but you still couldn’t ignore the fact that you were flunking college when you had actually done decently in high school. and when you arrived at damon’s door, your troubles seemed etched onto your face. your heart was plagued of guilt and failure.

“y/n?”

“you don’t know how happy i am to see you.”

“are you sure you’re happy? your eyes are, um, you look like you’re about to cry.”

your boyfriend was right. you felt upset, yes, but you didn’t even notice your eyes becoming glossier. it was embarrassing. your bottom lip quivered, continuing to think about the paper of yours and how you had managed to put an essay above damon.

“no, no! don’t cry! come inside and tell me what’s wrong, alright love?” damon said as he ushered you in and sat you down on the sofa in his tiny little living room.

he curled you up in a blanket and told you that you didn’t have to tell him anything if you didn’t want to, but you reasoned with damon that that was silly. you really did want to get your feelings off your chest. after all, you didn’t open up to anyone about your time at college yet.

“it’s just… they demand so much of me. my college. i wish i could quit but i feel like everyone expects me to graduate and succeed, y’know? i don’t want to constantly be writing over and over again and be told the same critiques that aren’t even useful!”

damon nodded, wrapping you in a tight embrace. you wept a bit, but he didn’t mind. he just continued to hold you.

he let out that cute laugh of his that brought a smile to your face before saying, “you’re succeeding, love. trust me. just because you’re not doing well academically doesn’t mean you’re not the best, right? when people come over to me after i hug you on a show night, they laugh and go ‘albarn, who’s she?’, and i have the pleasure of calling you my girlfriend. not to mention, you had better teachers at high school to help you instead of that posh professor of yours.”

and that made you cry a bit more as he began tearing up with you.

“i’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

#blur band #blur #90s #fluff #angst with a happy ending #angst #angst fic #damon albarn #damon albarn x reader #she/her #female reader #blur x reader #fluff fic

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sunatooru · 3 years

Note

Hey so I wanna give a heads up since some people don’t like medical type stuff.

Ok so I got sick at work today and pulled my classic “I’m probably fine so I’ll keep going” crap. And then I got sick again. And I was wondering how some of the haikyuu boys would deal (not sure if that’s the best word 😬) with a girlfriend or crush or something amongst those lines. Who just doesn’t remember that it’s ok to be sick or whatever.

Sorry if this is all really vague. I didn’t see a list of characters you do/don’t write for so let me know I guess. I’d really like Tendou and Tsuki and you could put in any others you want.

Sorry if I didn’t do this right 😓 (also saw you need to know age if nsfw so idk if I need to send it?)

Hello! I counted this as an emergency eventhough it wasn't stated and don't worry everything you asked for was fine, I typically write for anyone (age is just for when interacting with nsfw). I hope you are feeling better! You deserve some rest xx

Warning: reader feels sick and hides it, gn!reader

Tendou

* you could feel something wasn’t right but decided to push the thought away

* ‘It’ll go away’, was your thinking but it only got worse

* And as hard as you tried to hide it, it was visible you weren’t feeling your best

* Tendou decided to visit you during work

* A little surprise for his favourite person

* He had a huge smile on his face until he saw the creases on your forehead

* You looked uncomfortable and he needed to know why

* “Hey lovely!” He greets you and you quickly try to hide the sickness

* “Tendou! You’re here.” You smile at him and he’s not convinced

* “You don’t look okay. What’s wrong babe?” He holds onto your hand

* “It’s nothing, just a little discomfort.” Yeah try again

* “Your lunch break is soon right? Come out with me. Please?” He kisses your hand and leaves after you agree

* When you’re done he shows up with a bag and takes you into a café

* “You know you can tell me when you’re sick. And if you are sick, it’s okay to take a break until you feel better.” He hands you a water bottle and pills to swallow

* “‘Tori, it’s nothing. I’ll be fine.” You lie

* “Baby, you’re human. If you get sick then you get sick. Don’t push yourself too hard and end up feeling worse. You don’t want that. I don’t want that.” He caresses your cheek

* “I…I know.” You sigh, finally telling him about feeling sick all day

* “Good, can you leave early? If not I’ll wait until you finish, so I can drop you off.” He smiles and gives you a peck

* “If you feel worse, I will not hesitant in kidnapping you.” You laugh for the first time today

Tsukishima

* You felt sick. So what

* That’s the mindset you kept as you continued working

* You’ll feel better. It’s just a little thing. I’m fine. Is what you chant in your head during work

* When you finally reach your joint flat, the exhaustion catches up

* Your movements are sluggish and you basically crash onto the sofa

* This catches your boyfriend’s attention

* He glances over you, taking in your heavy breaths and tense face

* Something was definitely up

* “Hey? Are you okay?” He asks, walking toward you and taking a seat

* “Just tired.” You give him a weak smile that fails to persuade him

* He places his hand on your forehead, swallowing hard when he realises you’re sick

* “Tsk. You’re not fine. You’re sick.” He says sternly

* “How long have you been feeling like this?” He quickly sheds your coat off, jaw ticking as he makes your sit more comfortably

* “Since morning but I thought it would go away…” you whisper, not wanting to catch his glare

* “Clearly it hasn’t…” he doesn’t mean to sound hard, he’s just annoyed that you pushed yourself

* “I’ll be right back.” He grabs wet cloths and a hot drink, dabbing your neck and face before placing a cloth on your forehead

* “You know getting sick is normal…no ones going to look down on your for feeling sick and taking time off to heal.” He starts, sitting besides you so you can lean on him, your hand with his on his lap

* “…i wasn’t that sick…” you pout and he rolls his eyes

* “You looked ready to pass out, babe. You ARE that sick. Seriously though, if you’re sick then tell someone and get some rest. It’ll only make you feel worse if you don’t look after yourself. Call me and I would’ve picked you up.” He flips the cloth and gives your a peck

* “Don’t scare me like that again dummy..” he whisper when he hears your breathing level

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

Text

Suicidal Misunderstanding XX

Part I - - - - - - - - - - Part XVII - - - - Part XVIII - - - - Part XIX

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

“I want you to understand that what we’re going to ask of you is entirely beyond the scope of duty and therefore completely voluntary. You are more than free to refuse participation, at any point, with absolutely no consequences.”

Deep within the Healing Halls best-kept medical secret, Eights quelled beneath the full might of the GAR’s highest and most lauded Generals. Yeah I’m sure whatever they ask I’m going to want to say no. Honestly, what kind of soldiers have they been working with?

“What can I do to help, sir? Sirs?”

“I know this might be shocking, but we have reason to believe the GAR is...compromised.”

“Sir?”

Eights thought furiously. This wasn’t about the healers who were hiding them, or the Jedi his battalion never received, or the decommissioning he had escaped. This was bigger.

The General Windu spoke calmly, “We suspect that you may have been trained or conditioned at some point without your knowledge to unquestioningly follow orders, orders that would usually be beyond what you would typically obey. With your permission, we’d like to try and activate that order in a restrained environment in order to gain more information, with the hope of finding a way to help the troops resist.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand. You’re just going to give me an order and ask me...not to obey it?”

General Koon nodded (General Koon! General Koon and General Windu were talking to him at the same time!). “In a manner of speaking, yes. But it’s possible that the order will do more than that. The only way we believe this could possibly work” Koon glanced to the man at his side. “And we...do believe this threat is real, is if you suffer from some form of brainwashing. Activating it might cause irreparable brain damage. Activating it might damage or kill the parts of you that make you you. Even if it doesn’t- the ideal scenario is we find something- an intentionally designed tumor perhaps- and surgically remove it. And brain surgery also has its own risks.”

Eights swallowed around a lump in his throat.

“And this is something that could be going on with...my entire batch?”

General Kenobi winced. “The entire GAR I’m afraid. Every clone.”

The General of the 212th! Commander Cody’s General was here! Talking to him! Telling him existentially terrifying ultra classified intel!

The trooper stared up from bed in disbelief. If anyone besides three of most respected generals in the entire GAR (not including Buir Ti) was telling him this he would accuse them of bantha crap fear-mongering, if not outright treason. Instead he was just...outraged.

“What would the order make me...us...do?”

Windu took a deep breath. “Attack us. Try and kill the Jedi.”

“I would never.” Eights straightened up even further. “We would never betray the Jedi- it’s- never. We were made for the Jedi and even if we weren’t- you’re the only ones who treat us with an ounce of respect.”

“No one is questioning your loyalty,” the kind Mon Cal healer (whose name he had never asked for fear of getting her in trouble if this ward was ever discovered) said, obviously trying to sooth him. She spoke with heart-breaking earnestness. “The fact that you would never choose to obey such a command just makes the possibility of something forcing you to do so that much more horrifying.”

“How would something like that even get in our heads? The longnecks designed us to serve the Jedi, why... I’m sorry Generals. I didn’t mean to get out of line.”

“No need to apologize. You have every right to be angry about this intrusion, as well as any number of things,” General Kenobi reassured him, smiling sadly. “We don’t know to what extent the Kaminoans are involved with this plot. Not precisely.”

Eights nodded, clenching his one remaining fist. “I’ll do it. Whatever you need from me. I can’t let my brothers have something this big looming over them without any intel.” I’m not exactly front-lines material anymore anyway.

“Are you sure?” Mace Windu’s eyes seemed to stare into his soul. Eights stared right back.

“I am. When do we start?”

It didn’t take long to shave the soldier and connect a number of glowing vital readers to his skull. He was ushered into a chambered observation room with what appeared to be a sfaraday cage hastily built around it.

“Alright, whenever you’re ready.” Bant (Master Eerin apparently, but she told him to call her Bant) said.

“I’m ready, sir.”

“Let’s start off small, see if we can learn anything without fully activating the order.”

General Kenobi took in a deep breath. He looked calm, but Jedi always did. The General took in another breath. Kriff, two deep breaths. That’s Jedi for freaking out, isn’t it? Right?

Fuck.

“Does Order 66 mean anything to you?” General Kenobi braced himself, staring intently at the trooper in his seat.

Eights wracked his brain furiously. Sixty-Six...that was...

“It’s...a little familiar? Sorry sir, I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere but...I can’t recall.”

“That’s perfectly alright trooper, not to worry.”

A Twilek healer he didn’t recognize spoke into a micomphone from the other side of a transparisteel window. “His frontal lobe might be lighting up a little, but it’s nothing abnormal, and not enough to triangulate for anything intrusive.”

After several variations on the same question as well as a number of scans of different ‘levels,’ the questioning escalated to orders, as well an extremely uncomfortable mock fight that he would probably tell his grandchildren about, provided he survived today, and also was allowed to have grandchildren.

Still, Eights couldn’t quite recall ever learning an Order 66 and was starting to relax, thinking the whole thing was some sort of horrible separatist lie.

They left him alone for an uncertain amount of time before returning with-

“Quickdraw?!” Eights jumped up at the sight of his commanding officer arriving via hoverchair, nervously saluting with his left hand.”I didn’t know you were here!”

“Just got out of bacta. My spine’s not quite what it used to be after the blast,” the lieutenant responded wryly. “At ease, Eights.”

“Our apologies again for waking you prematurely,” General Koon said softly.

Quickdraw waved the General off. “I’m honored you did. For something as serious this- well I’d hardly forgive myself if I just slept through it.”

Quickdraw locked eyes with Eights. “I’m supposed to try giving you ‘the order’ now- General Kenobi suspects that as your superior officer, I might be authorized to trigger whatever the hell the longnecks put in our heads.”

Eights swallowed hard. “The longnecks, sir?”

“Who else?” Quickdraw asked in a tone drier than Jakku. He spun in the chair to face General Koon. “How are we doing this?”

After a brief discussion, the troopers ended up on opposite sides of a sound-proof transparisteel divider, an comm channel open between them. Eights plugged his ears and gave the order first. And giving Quickdraw an order was almost but not quite as weird as giving an order that would apparently make him try and kill Jedi.

Nothing happened and they swapped, this time with Quickdraw using a waxy covering to block his hearing.

His lieutenant stared at him straight through the clear divider and ordered him to execute Order 66. This time he finally remembered his training, and realized he was woefully outgunned. Oh well, he was a good soldier.

Eights stood up. The only visible change in his expression was a widening of his pupils. There was no malicious intent palpable in the force- he didn’t even look angry- just determined.

He lunged at the Jedi next to him, only to hit an invisible wall. He threw himself at the barrier desperately while the traitor backed out of the room and escaped. The wall finally dropped, but it was too late, he was locked in.

Sighing, he picked up the chair with his one good arm, slamming it repeatedly at the door frame. Good soldiers follow orders.

On the other side of the observation window, Quickdraw stumbled back horrified, reaching for his ears before hesitating. General Koon softly tapped his shoulder and indicated they should leave.

“I’ve got a location.” Master Che said quietly as the lieutenant was ushered into an antechamber and the activated trooper continued to beat at the door. “It’s a small but clear patch lit up like the festival of lights- I don’t know why it didn’t turn up in scans but...I’m as confident as I can be. Worst case- it’s a small enough area that removing the grey matter shouldn’t...well it won’t kill him. It’s enough to go on for microscapel surgery.” General Koon nodded, then tilted forward, weight falling heavily in his palms on the counter before him.

Vokara rested a hand gently on his back “...I was hoping it wasn’t true as well.”

Master Koon flinched away. “I am sorry and glad to say you do not understand my feelings on the matter. I think...my apologies but I need some time to meditate.”

“Of course.”

Koon rushed out. After a moment Master Windu stepped in, radiating similar distress as Master Koon. Master Kenobi followed, looking grim but also happy.

‘Oh I’m glad Koon isn’t around him right now,’ Healer Che thought wryly.

Perhaps sensing the mood, Obi-Wan sobered.

“I’m sorry it’s just- I didn’t actually see the order get activated. Of course I believed it wasn’t a choice- and I’m obviously not glad that anyone’s will could be taken so easily-”

“You don’t have to explain anymore,” Mace offered quietly. “I can understand why seeing this would be something of a relief, all things considered.”

The Head Healer nodded in agreement before taking charge. “Kenobi, go in with Eerin and help her sedate him. I’ll prepare for surgery.”

“Wait- shouldn’t we try other permutations first? It’s possible that once activated, a clone might be able to order a superior officer-”

“And it’s also possible that if a lieutenant is activated, the entire army will turn,” Mace snapped. Obi-Wan bent his head, chastised.

“Right. Yes. I’ll go- find Bant.”

An extremely long hour later, Master Che returned from surgery. Masters Mundi, Koth, and Yoda had left to and fulfill the other thousand and one duties of a council member not unravelling a Sith conspiracy at the heart of the Republic, while Master Aerdo had been dispatched to talk with Quickdraw as well as some of the other troopers in the hidden Medical bay.

“It’s a chip,” Vokara said grimly. “Native biological material, but clearly a chip. Like you would find in a droid. Far more complex than any slave chip I’ve ever seen, and no explosive component. It would only turn up on a level five brain scan. I didn’t even think to run it before- it’s overly invasive and typically useless.”

The reduced meeting crumpled at the sight of the infinitesimally small object of control, carefully encased in a stasis slide and placed delicately on the conference table.

Proof of Obi-Wan’s future, a future that the group thought they already believed.

“We should get Master Nu,” Adi Gallia said quickly, “We’ll want our top researchers analyzing it as soon as possible.”

Koon nodded sharply. “Agreed.”

The Tholothian Master stood, “I’ll go at once- we should probably keep any mention of this off comms.”

As Master Gallia swept out of the room, Plo Koon wrenched his gaze from the stasis slide to face the healer. “Master Che, what is Eight’s status?”

“Unconscious and restrained, but he should wake up soon enough. It...might not be a bad idea to have another Jedi nearby when he does.”

Koon and Che left the room, taking the chip with them and conferring quietly.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, elbows on the table and face in his hands.

Master Windu exchanged a glance with Anakin.

Finally Obi-Wan spoke, tentatively addressing Bant, “Could it be possible for someone...besides a clone to be chipped? If Palpatine had access to them as a child...”

Bant drew back, gaze flickering to Anakin. “I- we would have to study it more-”

Anakin interrupted, shifting in his seat. ”Master- what did I do?”

“It- it wasn’t you. It wasn’t you anymore that the person who fired on me was Cody.”

Bant exchanged a glance with Mace, before clearing her throat with a soft gurgle. “Perhaps we should leave the two of you alone to talk this through.”

The Mon Cala Healer stood and exited rapidly. Windu exchanged a glance with Skywalker before he left. “Talk through everything, understood?” Anakin nodded.

The door shut, leaving Master and Padawan alone. “I feel like I’m missing more than two and a half days,” Obi-Wan muttered wryly. “I don’t remember you three having a non-verbal communication system consisting of eye-contact alone before.”

Anakin chuckled once then immediately grew somber, picking at a loose thread in the sleeve of his robe. A thousand thoughts were swirling in his head, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I- did I hurt you? Is that- is that why you stabbed me, you thought you were defending-”

“I did what?!” Obi-Wan paled, jumping up from his seat.

Anakin winced. “It’s nothing, that’s actually not important. I’m healed anyway so forget I mentioned it-”

Obi-Wan moaned, stumbling backwards over the fallen chair. “Of force- when you were trying to save me- I had a blade. I cut you down-” He tripped backwards, collapsing to the ground.

“Master!” Anakin lurched forwards, but the older Jedi scrambled back.

“I forgot my spray bottle in there,” Bant whispered outside the door. “Do you think it’s too late to go back for it?”

Mace peered subtly through the small window in the door. “Yes. They’re already on the ground. I think they’re both crying.”

“It’s been less than a minute!”

“Yes.”

“...We should go.”

“Yes.”

Unaware of their muffled audience, the two continued their conversation.

“Don’t- don’t touch me!” Obi-Wan gasped, back hitting a wall. “I don’t- I don’t deserve-”

The young knight reared back, falling from a crouch to his knees, “Is this...about the Tuskens again?

Obi-Wan blinked in confusion. “The Tuskens? What about Tuskens?”

“You don’t...remember?” The air grew cold and Anakin forced himself to continue, “What- what we talked about in the cave?”

“What we- I-” Obi-Wan thought furiously. “...Anakin. What did...what were you apologizing for in the cave? What- what did you think we were talking about?”

“Oh gods.” Anakin paled now, shuffling back.

“What are they doing now?” Bant asked the taller Master.

“They’re taking turns chasing each other back and forth on their hands and knees. They both look like they’re seconds away from passing out or throwing up.”

“I...is this a human thing?”

“No. What? Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know! Do you think this is how they usually talk to each other?”

“I think perhaps they don’t talk to each other, and that’s why they’re like this.”

“Right, right... I really want to hear what they’re saying.”

“Hm. I don’t.”

“Why are you also standing outside the door then?”

“I want to be ready to intervene if they start trying to kill each other.”

“FORCE”

“Quiet!”

“Sorry. Sorry. You think they fought then? In the...other timeline?”

“...It would explain Obi-Wan’s shatterpoint remnants better than anything else.”

“Not to mention the spice.”

“I thought we were politely ignoring the spice.”

“...and then I brought her back to the homestead for burial.” Anakin bowed his head, tears streaming against his will. “I thought...Master I know I can’t fix this but I’m sorry- I already stepped down from my position as General so I wouldn’t be in a position to kill anyone else- I need you to forgive me.”

“Oh Anakin.”

“What? What happened?” Bant asked urgently.

The Master of the Order appeared unruffled in the force and human visible light, but the tips of his ears were heating up in infrared. She stood on her toes to see in.

“Oh- they’re hugging? Seriously? That’s what you’re embarrassed to see?”

“They’re clinging to each other like younglings. It’s undignified for a Jedi Master and Knight”

“Alright that’s it- we’re going. I really don’t think Anakin’s going to jump from crying and hugs to murder.”

Unaware of their newfound privacy, the two inside withdrew from their embrace, still sniffling slightly.

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin said in a shaky tone. “I swear I won’t let you down, I’m going to do better.”

“I know, my padawan, I know. I’m going to be there to help you this time, I’m not going to leave you alone with- well I’m not going to leave you alone.”

Anakin smiled wetly at Obi-Wan’s careful avoidance of Chancellor Palpatine’s supposed Sith alter ego, refocusing on Obi-Wan and making intense eye contact.

“What did you think we were talking about?”

Obi-Wan looked down. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “It- it never happened.”

“Ori’vod, please. You- you mentioned younglings. I did something else unforgivable didn’t I?”

Obi-Wan smiled but didn’t look up. “And i forgave you anyway. Even when I thought your apology was just a fantasy. But it wasn’t, it was real, and- and the people actually are unmurdered so...it’s not worth talking about it.”

Anakin bit the inside of his cheek, gut roiling. “You...really think I might have a chip in me?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped up. “I...don’t know. I didn’t even know that Cody had a chip in him.”

“You just...were suddenly betrayed by everyone.”

“Not...everyone. Most who refused to fall in line were executed, of course, but there were a few senators who stood with the Jedi, secretly.”

A new wave of cold terror passed over Anakin. “What happened with the other senators?”

“Like I said to the council earlier, from what I heard they cheered Palpatine on. Thunderous applause.”

“That’s not what I mean- Padme, Was Padme alright?”

Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands, shuddering.

“Anakin- I don’t know what to tell you,” he said in muffled voice. “I don’t want to deceive you but- things were dark. If I tell you everything now, I’m afraid of what you’ll do.”

Anakin winced. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I’m not...evil. I just...I messed up, and I want to make things better.”

Obi-Wan sighed, and pulled Anakin so they were seated next to each other in a mirror of the false peace a few days earlier. Anakin leaned into his Master’s side, feeling the cold retreat. “You’re not evil Anakin, but what you did to the Tusken village wasn’t exactly a small thing. I- look- Ad’ika-”

Obi-Wan hesitantly placed an arm around Anakin’s shoulder and the cold retreated a bit more.

“If the council accepts my plan, we’re going to have time together over the next few weeks, to talk more about...everything. We’re going to end the war- save everyone. I know the cave wasn’t what either of us thought it was, but it still meant the galaxy to me. I love you, no matter what...and that conversation, what you said. Well, it gave me the strength to go on, to do what I needed to.” Obi-Wan froze. “Not my, um, self-inflected injuries- that’s- obviously that wasn’t your fault-”

“You thought you were hallucinating. I know.” Anakin smiled, feeling honestly amused at the absurdity situation for the first time. “I’m going to mock you for that for the rest of our lives, you know that, right?”

“I look forward to it.” Obi-Wan smiled.

A vise that had been clenched around Anakin’s heart since he broke down the door to their apartment finally relaxed. “You really weren’t trying to kill yourself,” he sighed happily.

“I was attempting to stay alive. Honestly concerned about dehydration. I wanted to stay in the daydream, but I knew I couldn’t. And part of that was because you gave me the strength to keep going. Sorry I did such a bad job honoring that but, well. You know. Thank you, Anakin. For saving me twice over.” Obi-Wan’s voice was utterly earnest, though it was a touch more embarrassed than he was used to after the single day of utter unrestraint.

Anakin’s eyes welled up. “I’ve been- I hated that you would just leave like that, give up-”

“Never Anakin,” Obi-Wan vowed. “I will never give up on you, or this galaxy.”

He twisted so he could throw both arms around his padawan.

“I swear by everything I am I will keep going. It’s... in my nature but gods is it easier with you besides me.”

“Even though i’m a child murderer twice over and once removed?” Anakin joked weakly, clinging desperately to Obi-Wan’s presence.

Obi-Wan shuddered. “Too soon, Anakin. Too soon.”

Part XXI

#star wars #my au #star wars au no 27 #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au #starwars

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stephspurs · 3 years

Text

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

here is the second last part besties wahhh I'm so sad its coming to an end!! I'm also so sorry about this part, it'll break a few hearts :'( Love always, Steph xx

Part 11 | parte undicesima

warnings; heartbreak, swearing & angst - i'm sorry in advance. word count; 2185 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. final update; Wednesday 18/08 5pm AEST. tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

A few days had passed since the Villa match and Amelia had heard from Jack when he returned to Birmingham. He sent her a simple text to let her know he made it home. That’s it. The two went from previously not going more than 24 hours between FaceTimes or calls or memes to a simple made it home a few hours ago, thanks for a good time x.

No “speak soon”, no promise of a FaceTime , no double kiss at the end of the text that would have typically been there otherwise. If anything, she was more mad that he made her feel like a side piece; like one of his instagram girls that she knew he entertained throughout the week. Amelia knew that she, for lack of better terms, fucked up. She fucked up their friendship, and was praying to all of the Gods that would listen to help her not fuck things up with Ben, too. However, the fact that she didn’t go to church as often as she should have is probably the reason that Ben refused to make eye contact with the girl. It was either that or…he already knew.

“Benj, hey, wait up.” She called as he walked out to his car after a particularly long day at Cobham.

“Don’t call me Benj,” he coldly stated without turning around, continuing his stride.

“Okay fine, Chilly. Wait up will you!”

“Don’t call me Chilly either, that's reserved for friends.”

“Okay, if I can’t call you Benj, or Chilly, what can I call you?”

“The best mate of the guy you fucked multiple times on Saturday night” He spat out at her, as he finally turned around, ready to see the shocked look cast over Amelia’s face as she stood a couple feet away from him. He wasn’t expecting to see Mason at his car, just across the way or Jorgi at his, a few cars down. But they were there and it didn’t matter; they were going to find out sooner or later, anyway.

“He told you.”

“He told the group chat, Amelia. The fucking group chat! How does that make you feel? He’s already bragging about it. Your bed isn't even cold yet! It probably doesn’t bother you that much though - you’re just like him.”

“He fucked you when he knew exactly how I felt about you, having gone to him for advice as to how to apologise to you. I called him on Friday after I left your house and gushed to him like a bloody little girl because I was so happy you forgave me, and that we had kissed. And then, just like that, you let him weasel his way between your legs.”

“I know I should be taking this out on him, and I will don’t worry, but you knew what you were doing also. You knew exactly how I felt about you. I was ready to commit to you that night and you said you wanted to be friends, that you needed time to heal or whatever. So I hope you’re happy and are healing, because I take it all back.” With that, Ben turned around and got in his car, driving away from the girl who felt remorse worse than she ever has in her life.

Witnessing the whole exchange, Jorgi gave Mason a nod to say “go check on Ben, I’ll look after Amelia” and walked up to the girl from behind. Without scaring her, he firmly grabbed her around the shoulders and pulled her to his chest where she let go of all of the emotions she had been keeping inside. With every stab of the knife that was Ben’s words, she felt herself becoming more vulnerable and exposed than ever before. She refused to let him see her cry. That wasn’t something she was willing to let anyone see; she didn’t realise all she had been holding together until she no longer had to, until she had the physical support of Jorgi holding her up in the middle of the training ground car park.

Ushering her to his car - she could collect her own another day - Jorgi put her inside before any other first team members - or worse, staff members - could see the distraught girl and drove them both back to her place where he spent the rest of the evening comforting the girl and letting her know she wasn’t alone. He had even made a desperate call to Fede, asking for advice on how to cheer the girl up. Of course, her Italian ex-lover had been worried the moment his national teammate had told him that the girl was inconsolable and was just about ready to board a flight to her, but Jorgi had calmed him down too. Fede’s advice of coffee, warm pyjamas and clean sheets had done the trick of putting the girl to sleep for the night.

The next few days had come and gone, and the two heartbroken almost-lovers were back to the beginning - Ben ignoring Amelia and Amelia trying to get Ben in a room. But it wasn’t to be. Towards the end of the week, Amelia had received a phone call from Mr Mancini, formally inviting her back to the Italian National Team staff for the upcoming friendly matches and preparation for the 2022 World Cup. Without any hesitation, she accepted her role and began to prepare the necessary procedures that would need to be implemented or maintained during her time away with the Italian side.

Sharing the news with her fellow Italians, Jorgi and Emerson, she decided that she wanted to be the one to tell Ben. She wanted him to know, whether he cared or not, that she wasn’t running away from him and that she would see him soon.

“Chilwell, please stay behind after the session.” She decided it was best if she requested it in the company of the rest of the first team and also the staff members. She was being selfish but she didn’t want him to run away from her again.

He remained sat in his seat as the rest of the team and professional staff left for the evening. Arms crossed, slouched down, looking at everything else in the room but the girl who was nervously wringing her hands together.

“I’m leaving for international duties tomorrow morning.” With that sentence, he stopped tapping his left leg and looking at the cornice details. Instead, his attention was focused on her.

“But we don’t break up for internationals for another week.”

“I know, but Mancini has requested I come earlier to settle back into things over there.”

“It’s only an hour flight away, how difficult could it be?”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me go.”

Silence. Ben didn’t have an answer for her. Of course he didn’t want to see her around Cobham on the day-to-day basis they currently had to endure, but that doesn’t mean he wants her to go back to Italy. Even if it was only for a couple of weeks. Especially if it meant she was around Fede again.

“Well, much to your dismay I'll be back here in 3 weeks. And, Italy are playing England in the last friendly match of the break.”

With a slight nod of his head, Amelia presumed that their conversation was done with. She turned to gather her paperwork and heard the chairs behind her move, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing. She sighed into her hands. How did she let this happen? She preached to Ben how much she didn’t want to be selfish with his heart, and that's exactly what she did. But hey, it takes two to tango. Deciding there was no time like the present, she dialed the contact that once made her smirk but instead only made her furious to look at.

“Amelia, hey, how are you? Sorry it’s been a hectic couple of weeks.”

“Cut the crap Jack, you never intended to keep this friendship after you got what you were after.”

“Excuse me? You wanted it just as bad as I did.”

“You’re right about that, I thought I wanted it. Now, though, all I feel is regret. You know Jack, I knew from the moment we met that you were just my type, the kind that only calls me late at night. I knew a guy like you, and he treated me more or less the same. I gave myself to him, over and over for the better part of 3 years, and it was only when I left that he decided I might have been worth it... worth him.”

“But not you, you couldn’t help but run to your group chat and brag about your latest conquest, about how you made me feel wanted, only to rip it all out from under me the next morning and every day since. Honestly Jack, I think it's time you grew up a little. For Ben to confide in you how he was feeling and for you to just have blatant disregard for your so-called best mate. I can’t believe you would stoop so low. I know I'm in the wrong here too, but you are his best mate for crying out loud! How could you do this to him?”

“I don’t even want to hear what you have to say, I just needed to get that off my chest. Lose my number Jack, find some other hopeless girl that you can lure in with your foolish words and sweet nothings because I’m done. I’m done with whatever this was to you.”

______________________________________________________________

“You’re probably not going to believe me, but you have no idea how happy I am to see you here,” I heard from behind me, spinning around on my heels to see the ever-charming, boyish grin I used to love with my whole heart. This time, it's a different kind of love - it's an unconditional love shared between two people that are glad to exist together in the same crazy world.

“Federico, amore mio.” (Federico, my love) I stood up from my place on the bench at the Technical Headquarters and Training Ground of the Italian Football Federation, bringing the taller, heavily tattooed man into my arms. A gentle rock from him, side to side, to let me know that he can feel the weight of my moral compass.

“Vieni, cammina con me” (come, walk with me) He looped our arms together, and we strolled around the perimeter of the pitch that I was using to visualise my plays for the upcoming games. By the time we made it to the first set of goals, Fede had had enough of letting me mull over my own thoughts.

“Tesoro, Jorgi called one night a couple weeks ago. As smart as he is, it turns out he is hopeless at calming down an emotional female. While I'm not proud of knowing exactly how to calm you down, being that it was more often than not my fault you were inconsolable in the first place, I had to get some information out of him as to who upset my favourite girl in all of England.”

So I launched into the story, telling him everything from Mykonos to that fateful night a few weeks ago. Fede being Fede, he wanted to know everything, but I stopped just short of letting him know how many times Jack took me to paradise (much to his dismay). By the time I had wrapped up, we must have walked the pitch at least 3 times in its entirety, before retiring to the centre circle where we sat on opposite sides of the half way line staring at each other.

“I’m sorry that I ruined you for any other man,” Fede spoke solemnly.

“Fede, no - it was my stupid mistake to sleep with Jack.”

“No, let me finish amore. I’m sorry that I made you love me so deeply, and convinced you that the way I treated you was the right way, that the way I was with you was what you expect in every man to come after me. This Jack, he sounds just like me about 5 years ago - before I met you. But Ben, he sounds like the man I am trying to better myself to be, to be the man that deserves the kind of love you have to give.”

“I want you to listen to me. You need to fight for Ben. From what I have heard from both yourself and Jorgi-”

“That boy cannot keep his mouth shut to save himself,” I muttered under my breath.

“Amelia, you have a heart that deserves to be loved. Open yourself up to Ben. Tell him how you feel. From experience, you are very hard to ignore when you’re so vulnerable. Be honest with him, apologise, make him feel wanted, not like a second choice. Let him know how much you care for him, and equally how much you want him to care for you. He will see your sincerity and realise just how truly irresistible you are.”

Part 12. | la parte finale

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Hey if requests are open can I ask one?

Can you do a bucky or stephen strange x reader where the reader falls under the ace spectrum and they are terrified to tell him that they are ace.

I'm ace (on the spectrum) and I've been struggling with forming romantic attachments and not feeling like "complete" or "enough" so I just felt this would be nice💕

If its convenient for you then please do this request

Thank you!

On the spectrum

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | based on the request. I kinda made a little twist to it, so I hope that you like it. I am in no way saying that asexual people can only be with asexual folk, but I thought this might be cute, so I wrote it like this xx

Warnings | erection, mentions of sex, ^^

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Jolting up from your rest, your eyes widened as you get your weight lounging upon Bucky, eyes wide as felt an appendage of his jolting stiffly upon your inner thigh. It was a surprise, the pair of you, through the expanse of your short term relationship, had never had the conversation of sex, and a part of you wanted to avoid it at all costs. There was something that you needed to inform Bucky about, but you were wary of what his reaction could be.

You weren’t sure that he would understand, after all, back in the 40s he was known for his womanising reputation, and whilst you knew that you weren’t another loose fling that had no attachments, it was still a big deal to share the truth with him. Not only would it impend and possibly affect his view of a future with you, but it would promote a new side to you, that you hadn’t told many people about.

Nat knew, but that was only because years back, you had confided in her, confused about your lack of sexual attraction to anyone. She had been supportive, and prompted you to research online, to see if you were as she suggested, asexual. There were many perceptions of the sexuality, some people would still do the deed to keep their partner happy, and others swore off the act altogether.

It wasn’t that the thought and idea of sex grossed you out, in fact, you could understand that people did it to feel amounts of pleasure that came from nothing else. But the rouse of body parts brushing against the other, and slipping inside was not something that ever appealed to yourself. And then you met Bucky, and your perception of the ordeal remained the same; you weren’t blind, you knew Bucky was extremely attractive, however, there still seemed to be no pulse in your veins that was prompting you to jump his bones.

It wasn’t him, it was you, and that was more okay. There was nothing wrong with not having a desire to perform erotic acts with any partner, and more so than his appearance, you had fallen for not only Bucky’s heavenly appearance, but his soul. He had an old soul, that was a given, with all things considered. And that was what had first made you step towards the man that liked to be alone, and change his perception of that fact.

He was new to the team, Tony enjoyed picking fun at the man, who as he liked to say ‘hadn’t got any in eighty years’. Bucky hardly responded to Iron Man’s nit picks, ignoring them instead to settle the conflict in his eyes. Berating with Tony was off the table, and so were snarky remarks, otherwise the billionaire would remind him of his sins against the Stark family, although in foresight, he had just been carrying out orders.

A groan relented from the man beneath you as you uncomfortably shuffled, his cock clearly rubbing against your thigh. His sleep dazed eyes slowly peeled open, revealing the blue globes beneath that stared up at you. A furrow endorsed his features, as he came to realisation of what had you so frozen; he was hard, nothing in particular had turned him on, it was just his body’s way of rousing him from slumber, and apparently it had extracted you from your rest also.

He released his arms from around you, watching as you shyly rolled to the side, and glanced at him from out of the corner of your eye. He released a small and sorrowful smile as he glanced down to where the covers had lightly raised from his manhood, feeling guilty for how his body had reacted by itself. “Doll face I’m sorry, I didn’t- it just- ugh.” The man groaned, rubbing his face with his prosthetic hand as he tried to rid the dust from out from the corner of his eyes.

“It’s okay.” Your voice came across as meek, small to the elephant in the room. “Just I- there is something I should tell you.” You twiddled with your fingers, picking nervously at the hanging skin that had chipped its way partially off on your latest mission, that had required you to furiously try and peel a jammed car door open to get the family out. Bucky now focused all his attention on you rather than the uninvited presence of his little friend in the bedroom, his pupils sending you signals of warmth as if to tell you that whatever you were going to tell him next, he would remain here for you.

“I’m asexual, and I get that you aren’t and you probably want all of nothing in this relationship but-” You spoke, but quickly paused when you saw Bucky tilted his head, a clear frown creating a thin line through the middle of his forehead. “What is it, do you not want me or-“ he stopped you from speaking, reaching out to hold your hands, giving them a light comforting squeeze, before he happened to open his mouth to speak.

“Doll face.” That name made you gulp, afraid that it would be the last time that he addressed you in such a way. And if it were, then that emotional connection that you felt to him would be unwound, and set out to sea to float and turn under the waves. “Asexual.” He tested the word on his tongue, as he lightly nodded, for some reason the phrase feeling right upon his tongue. “Can you explain it to me, I don’t know what it is?”

Of course, he wouldn’t know what it is! It made sense, he was from the forties, where various sexualities were not explored, all because straight white men thought their opinions were inferior. Well now, everyone had the freedom to be who they wanted to, and could be attracted to whomever they pleased, as things should have always been. Brushing your hand through your hair, thinking of holding onto the locks for dear life as you felt your nerves persevere, and spur in your membrane.

“It’s where someone does not experience sexual thoughts or feelings, towards anyone. Their thoughts are primarily romantic, and that’s how I feel. I do love you Buck, but I’m not sexually attracted to you, and I understand if that is a deal breaker for you. Not everyone wants to be put on a sex ban for the entirety of their relationship, but for me, it’s not like that at all, instead it’s more so I find the little moments to be more intimate than intercourse.”

“Y/n... I, not to jump the gun, but I’ve been feeling the same way.” Bucky slowly spoke, making your eyes dart up to his guilty expression. “I guess eighty years on ice will make you think about the things that are more important, and you are the most important person to me, and I guess if we neither of us have any desire to have sex, then me and you are supposed to work.”

It was surely a surprise, but he had contained his emotions, thinking that even when Tony pried at him for his lack of involved affections, he felt ashamed, as though there was something wrong with him. But it appeared as this day and age was far more fitting for this version of him, the one that had endured the battles against aliens and his own friends.

“I’m sure we’d have found a way to sort your needs out even if you weren’t asexual.” It felt strange for him to hear himself described with that word, but it felt right. “And look, it’s gone down.” You laughed lightly, resting against his chest once more as he let out a breathy laugh, and cuddled you to his chest. “I’m with you for you Buck, I love every part of you. And I think, maybe we should move out of the compound and get a place together, maybe downtown?”

“Really?” His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, shining with festive luminescence. “You want that, with me?” You humbly nodded, pressing a kiss upon his cheek as you inhaled his scent. His hands dipped to your waist, holding you that bit tighter. He was never going to let you go, no matter who was what, or what was who. The two of you were y/n and Bucky, and you got through anything.

That way, leaving these Stark white four walls behind, Stark himself could not pry at the soldier, nor make jokes about his lack of sexual affection. The two of you were complete with the truth wading between you, there was to be no dwelling or worrying about the other thought, because you both understood.

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky oneshot #bucky imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes request #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky reader insert #bucky request #sebastian stan fluff #Bucky Barnes x reader fluff #imagines #imagine #xreader #marvel x reader

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lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years

Text

Just Peachy - George Weasley

Title: Just Peachy Pairing: George x Fem!Reader Warnings: NSFW!! Pegging, male receiving oral, male fingering, slight fem!dom/sub!george, teasing, degradation. Seriously George takes it up the ass if you don’t like it don’t read it k thanks Summary: with the world wide web at his fingertips it’s only natural that George finds something new to try in the bedroom A/N: for the anon who wanted George getting pegged. Like I said in the warnings, George takes it up the ass so if that makes you uncomfy or you don’t like it don’t read! I’m also not tagging anyone as I don’t want to make anyone uncomfy or upset! Feedback is always welcome!

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

Giving George a laptop and access to the internet turned out to be both a blessing and a curse. A curse because he quickly became obsessed with browsing the internet, and he spent most of his time scrolling away on reddit or with his headphones on, watching some random YouTube video. He could chatter on for hours about a thread he found on reddit or a meme he discovered when browsing on Instagram and once he discovered how to order things off of amazon it got even worse. At least once a day a package containing some random gismo or trinket arrived at the doorstep of their shared flat, and George would excitedly rip open the box and use whatever was inside for a few minutes before jumping back on his computer to order more useless crap.

But his newfound love of the internet was also a blessing. George had figured out how to connect his laptop to the tv in his and Y/N’s bedroom, and every night before falling asleep they would cuddle together in bed, watching some tv program or film on Netflix. Along with George’s obsession with shopping for useless gadgets, he’d started to pick things up for Y/N as well. It was never anything big, a box of her favorite chocolates, a candle he thought she’d enjoy the smell off, a new pair of fuzzy socks for her to wear around the flat in the winter. Just anything he saw that made him think of her.

George’s new love of the internet also did wonders for their sex life, something Y/N welcomed happily.

Along with the random cute presents George started ordering for Y/N, he also started ordering some sexy ones as well. Her wardrobe is now dripping in different sets of lingerie and her underwear drawer is filled to the brim with lace clad panties. Their sex toy collection has nearly doubled in size, with toys for them to use together or on their own being added to the mix. And thanks to George’s Pornhub premium subscription, they’ve tested out some new positions and kinks in the bedroom as well. Some were only a one time thing, others have become a permanent part of their intimate moments, but everything has been pleasurable, nonetheless. It’s made their relationship stronger and helped George ask for things he never thought he’d want, even those that may be a tad unconventional.

George clears his throat as he tugs Y/N closer to his side, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. He can tell she’s close to drifting off to sleep by the way her chest is moving with slow deep breaths and he knows he’ll never get the chance to ask the question that’s been burning on the tip of his tongue for weeks if he doesn’t do it now. “You ever heard of pegging?” he asks into the quiet of their bedroom.

“Like clothes pegs? The things you use to hang your washing up with?” Y/N mumbles sleepily into his chest.

George chuckles and he can feel some of his nerves easing away. “No, it’s like a sex thing.”

“Like putting clothes pegs on your nipples? Sounds kinda hot,” Y/N teases, turning so she can look up at George. “Though I imagine the splinters would be a nightmare to get out.”

“Not quite,” George responds, biting his lip. “It’s, um. This thing where. The girl wears this thing, a strapon, and um. Uses it to. Ya know, fuck the guy.” George’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and he looks up at the ceiling to avoid Y/N’s gaze.

“Oh,” she responds quietly, reaching up to cup one of George’s cheeks. She rubs the flushed skin with her thumb soothingly, waiting for him to relax into her touch before she continues. “Is that something you’re interested in? Something you want me to do to you?”

“I. Um. Uh. Yes, I think so. Only if you want to,” George babbles nervously, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

Y/N grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers before bringing it down so she can press a few kisses to the back of his hand. “Georgie, look at me.” When George finally looks back down at her Y/N smiles softly and squeezes his hand. “You never have to be embarrassed about this kinda stuff with me George. If you wanna try it, we’ll try it. Simple as that.”

George leans down to kiss Y/N briefly. “Just didn’t want you to think I was weird or something.”

“Of course I think you’re weird,” Y/N teases, kissing him again. “But there’s loads of other reasons for that, and none of them have to do with your sexual preferences. There’s no shame here, love. I’ll do some research and then we’ll get down into it, yeah?”

“You’re the best, you know that?” George compliments, settling back into the pillows.

Y/N hums as her eyes flutter closed, letting the sound of George’s heartbeat lull her to sleep. “Damn right.”

Over the next few days Y/N spends every ounce of free time she has browsing different forums and websites, trying to find out all she can to make sure the experience is as pleasurable for the both of them as possible. She watches far more porn than she ever thought she would, spends hours searching on various sex toy websites to find the perfect strapon and she does more research on lube than any person should ever do in their lives.

Y/N keeps everything a secret from George until the day they’d decided would be best to try for the first time. They choose a Friday, that way George will have time to recover from any soreness before he’s expected to be back at work and if they both find it enjoyable, possibly do it again.

While George is at work Y/N decides to grab the strapon from where she’d been hiding it in the back of the closet, so she can clean it off one last time and figure out how to properly strap it to her body, so she doesn’t have to fumble with it later. The harness she’d chosen has a part that settles into her slit, with ridges and bumps that’ll drag across her clit with every thrust. A shiver runs down her spine as the cool leather wraps around her skin and she tightens the straps, adjusting them so they fit tight on her hips and thighs.

“This is kinda hot,” Y/N mumbles as she stares down at the dildo resting at attention in between her thighs. It’s flesh colored and slightly curved, and it’s about 7 inches long and moderately thick. She wraps her hand around it, slowly moving her wrist as if she’s jacking off. “Fucking hell,” she groans as the ridges on the strap brush her clit, her hips jerking forward. Y/N wraps her hand around the base and grabs her phone off of the bathroom counter, snapping a picture to send to George.

Can’t wait to have you begging for my cock xx

George takes his phone out when he feels it vibrate in his pocket, figuring its Y/N sending him a sweet message. Ever since she taught him how to text a few months ago she’s started sending him little things throughout the day while they’re apart. Usually it’s a text to let him know she’s thinking about him or sometimes it’s a meme or a video she found that she figures he’d enjoy too.

So, when he opens his phone and is met with a picture of her hand wrapped around the dildo Y/N plans on fucking him with later his cheeks immediately turn bright red as he nearly drops his phone on the ground. His cock twitches in his trousers and he has to grip the counter in front of him and take a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down. That image is going to be imbedded in his brain for the rest of the day, and he has no idea how he’s supposed to make it through the next few hours knowing what’s waiting for him at home.

“You alright?” Fred asks as he comes out of the back, taking in George’s flushed appearance.

George hums and nods, locking his phone and shoving it back in his pocket. “Yep. Just peachy.”

Fred gives him a look but doesn’t say anything more, and George sighs in relief, deciding to go help some customers to keep his mind off of Y/N.

“God damn,” George pants as Y/N grinds down in his lap, his grip on her hips tightening and his head tilting back to give her more room to bite at his neck.

After dinner and some more talking about what the rest of their evening will look like, Y/N lead George to the bedroom to get started. They had stood in the middle of their bedroom for what felt like hours, just kissing softly as they gently undressed each other. Once they were both down to nothing, but their underwear George settled in the middle of their bed with his back against the headboard, while Y/N straddled his waist and started to grind down against him. Now a few minutes later, George is fully hard in his boxers while Y/N continues to grind on him, her lips attacking his neck and one of her hands tugging at his hair while the other pinches and rolls his nipples.

“Feel good?” Y/N teases, twisting the nipple in her hand. George lets out a loud moan and Y/N can feel George’s cock twitch against her. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she continues, kissing her way back up to George’s mouth. Y/N tugs on his hair as they kiss, just letting their mouths move together for a few moments. “Are you ready for more?”

“Yes, please,” George confirms with a nod. He can feel some nerves rumbling in his stomach still, but Y/N’s soothing voice and gentle hands have put him at ease. He hasn’t stopped thinking about this moment since he suggested pegging over a week ago, and the picture Y/N sent him has only made him more excited. “Want you to fuck me, Y/N.”

A shiver runs down Y/N’s spine at George’s words, and she kisses him briefly. “Patience, love. We gotta get you ready first. I’m gonna go get dressed. Want you to take your boxers off and lay back on the middle of the bed, yeah?” Y/N kisses George once more as he nods, before getting off the bed and heading into the bathroom attached to their room.

The strapon and lube are already waiting on the bathroom counter, and Y/N takes a deep breath as she shimmies out of her panties and grabs the strapon. She decides to keep her lacy black bralette on, as it’s one of George’s favorites and Y/N knows seeing her in it drives him wild. Y/N secures the strapon like she did this afternoon, groaning as the nubs rub against her clit. She’s already fairly turned on just from the grinding and she can’t imagine it’ll take much for her to cum once she’s fucking into George. She looks at herself one last time in the mirror before grabbing the bottle of lube and heading back into their bedroom. George is completely naked now, laying back on the bed with his head propped up by their pillows so he can watch Y/N’s every move.

“God you’re gorgeous,” George groans as Y/N comes back into the room, his eyes raking over her body. The leather straps wrapped around her skin make her thighs look even more divine, and his mouth waters as he takes notice of the dildo jutting out from between her thighs. “This is way hotter than I thought it would be.”

Y/N giggles as she settles on the bed between George’s legs, tossing the lube onto the bed next to him. “Yeah? You like my cock?” she teases as she hovers over George, attaching her lips to the base of his throat. She thrusts her hips against George slowly, letting the dildo drag against his cock.

George gasps as the dildo drags across his warm skin, a shiver running down his spine. “Shit that’s cold.”

“Sorry, baby,” Y/N apologizes as her lips start to trail down his chest towards his nipples. She lets her hot breath just barely breeze across one before she flicks at it with her tongue. George lets out a low moan, prompting her to give his other nipple the same treatment.

“It’s okay. Felt good,” George stutters out as Y/N takes one of his nipples into her mouth. He can feel the precum collecting on the tip of his cock dripping onto his stomach, and he thrusts his hips up, desperate for some friction.

“Gotta be patient, baby,” Y/N coos as she starts to kiss further down George’s body. “I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry.” Y/N presses a kiss to the tip of George’s cock, pulling away when he groans and thrusts his hips up into her touch. “Don’t be naughty, George,” Y/N warns as she grabs the lube.

George licks his lips as he watches Y/N spread the lube on her fingers, his legs automatically opening a bit wider. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Better be,” Y/N responds as she tosses the lube aside again. She grabs the base of George’s cock with her clean hand, leaning down and sucking the tip between her lips as one of her fingers circles his entrance. She takes him down fully as she sinks the first finger into him, the noise he lets out going straight to her core.

“Oh,” George gasps as Y/N starts to bob her head on his cock, his brain focused on the way her finger feels as it moves inside of him. “Feels good,” George moans, grinding his hips down against her hand. “Feels different, but good.”

Y/N hums around George as she continues to suck his cock, the hand on the base of him twisting as she adds another finger alongside the first. She’d read many guides on the best way to prepare someone, and she moves slowly, wanting George to feel as good as possible.

Y/N works at opening up George for a few minutes, getting up to three fingers into him while her tongue teases the tip of his cock. His hips are rocking down against her hand feverishly, and little mewls are leaving his lips as his chest heaves with deep breathes.

“Fuck me please,” George begs as Y/N crooks her fingers inside of him, his hands fisting in the bed sheets. His whole body feels like it’s on fire, and he’s ready to move on to the next step.

Y/N pulls off of George’s cock and looks up at him, groaning at how beautiful he looks. His chest his flushed red and his hair is messy from his hands running through it. “Yeah, baby? You ready for me to ruin you with my cock?”

George chokes on a moan as Y/N pulls her fingers out of him, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly empty. “God yes, please. Need to feel you inside of me. Wanna be full of your cock, Y/N.”

“Such a desperate little cock slut and I haven’t even fucked you yet, baby,” Y/N teases as she lubes up the dildo. She lets out a quiet moan as she strokes it, the little nubs and ridges on the harness giving her some much needed relief on her aching pussy. “You remember the safe word, right baby?”

George nods, a whimper falling from his lips as Y/N presses the tip of the dildo against his entrance. “I remember, yes,” he confirms, taking in a few shaky breaths.

Y/N grabs one of George’s knees, pushing his leg to the side to give her more room. “You ready, baby? Ready for me to fuck you with my cock? Turn you into a little cock whore?”

“Please,” George begs. He’s rock hard against his stomach and he’s desperate for Y/N to finally sink into him. “Oh my fuck,” George moans as Y/N’s hips push forward slowly, not stopping until the dildo is in him completely and the leather straps are digging into the backs of his thighs.

Y/N rubs George’s hips soothingly, watching his face contort into some mixture of pleasure and pain. “You doing okay, Georgie? Talk to me baby.”

George slowly pushes his hips down against Y/N, a moan falling from his mouth at the sensation. It burns slightly, but in an amazing way, and George feels full in a way he never has before. “Feels so fucking good,” he whines, pushing his hips down against Y/N’s in a steady pace. “Need you to move, Y/N fuck. Please. So full of you, so full of your cock.”

“Fucks sake,” Y/N moans as she starts to move her hips, slowly pulling out of George before she fucks back into him. The noise George lets out as she starts to fuck him goes right to her core, and the feeling of the nubs rubbing against her clit prompts her to slam back into George harder. “You like the way I fuck you, Georgie? Like how my big cock stretches you out?”

“Merlin, yes,” George moans as Y/N starts to move faster one of his hands coming down to stroke his cock in time with her thrusts. “Love the way you fuck me, Y/N. Feels better than I ever thought it would.” George wraps one of his hands around his thigh, pulling his legs up to his chest. The new angle allows for Y/N to fuck into him deeper, and he lets out a long whine as the tip of the dildo finally brushes his sweet spot. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there Y/N please,” he begs, as he tips his head back against the pillows.

“Such a fucking slut, baby,” Y/N teases as she starts to fuck into George harder. The bumps and ridges on the harness brush against her clit roughly, and she can feel her wetness dripping down onto her thighs. George looks absolutely ethereal, and it does nothing but push her closer to her own orgasm. His chest is red and covered in a sheen of sweat and the noises falling from his mouth are going right to her core.

George groans as the tip of the dildo brushes his sweet spot with every one of Y/N’s thrusts, and he releases his cock so he can grab his other thigh and bring his leg up to his chest, allowing Y/N to somehow fuck into him even deeper. “Only for you, Y/N. Love being your cock slut.”

“That’s right, baby. My little slut.” Y/N can feel her orgasm approaching, and she wraps her hand around George’s cock, stroking him in time with her thrusts, her thumb rubbing over the tip and spreading his precum down the shaft to make her hand slide easier. “Fuck, George. ‘M gonna cum. Come on, baby. Be a good little cock slut and cum on my cock.”

Y/N’s hand on his cock pushes George over the edge, and he can feel his walls clench around the dildo as he cums, pleasure rolling through his body. Her name leaves his mouth in a loud shout as he shoots his seed all over Y/N’s hand and his own stomach.

“Fuck, George,” Y/N moans as her own orgasm washes over her, the rhythm of her hips stuttering as the pleasure rockets through her body. She releases George’s cock as soon as it stops twitching, letting her hips slow to a gentle roll before pulling out of George completely.

George releases his legs and lets them fall back against the bed, inhaling slowly as he tries to catch his breath. “Fucking Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.”

Y/N giggles as she crawls up George’s body, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Glad you liked it, because it was so fucking hot, George. Like so unbelievably hot.” She kisses George again, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “I’ll be right back, yeah? Gonna grab something to clean you up.”

Y/N comes back from the bathroom a few minutes later back in the panties she’d taken off earlier, with a washcloth in one hand and a glass of water in the other. She hands George the water with a smile as she settles between his thighs.

“Thanks, love,” George murmurs before taking a sip, nearly chocking as Y/N runs the warm washcloth along his bum. “Could have given a guy some warning,” he teases through his coughing fit.

“Sorry, love,” Y/N giggles as she wipes up his stomach. Once George is clean Y/N tosses the washcloth on the floor for them to deal with later, before crawling back up the bed. “So, feel good?”

George places the empty glass on his bedside table before pulling Y/N into a deep kiss. “My arse is a little sore but other than that yes, incredible.”

“I’ve got some salve you can use tomorrow if you want. Figured it might come in handy.” Y/N pulls back the covers so she and George can get into bed, letting him pull her onto his chest. “I love you, George.”

George chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “I love you too, Y/N. Thank you for not thinking I’m a weirdo.”

“I told you,” Y/N muses with a laugh as George grabs his wand, giving it a flick so the lights in their room turn off. “I absolutely think you’re a weirdo, a weirdo who looks super fucking hot cumming on my cock.”

#George weasley #George Weasley smut #gw #golden

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redgillan · 4 years

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Under Pastel Skies - 9

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,257

Warnings: mention of accident, mention of blood

A/N: I’m sorry this took longer than usual but it’s pretty long so yay! I hope you’ll like this chapter. We’re slowly getting there :’) Thank you for the feedback, I truly appreciate all of you! Also 1 marvel quote and several Bob Ross quotes that I obv don’t own.

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

Good luck on your interview xx

Bucky had just hit ‘send’ when Sam cleared his throat noisily, drawing Bucky’s attention away from his phone. His friends were frowning crossly at him, their glasses raised in a silent toast. He set his phone face-down on the table and picked up his glass.

“Sorry, you were saying?”

Sam shot Steve a ‘see?’ look and Steve replied with a shrug and a little smile. They looked like two sassy grandmothers judging their only grandson. Bucky checked his phone again, and out of his peripheral vision, he could see his grandmothers share another look.

“What?” he barked, annoyed.

“Nothin,” they both answered at the same time before they took a synchronized sip of orange juice.

Smacking his lips together, Sam opened the menu and began to skim through the choices. A waiter suddenly came out of nowhere to take their order. Bucky ordered a cranberry rosemary scone, smoked bacon, an eggplant sandwich, and a plate of lemon-ricotta pancakes.

“Excuse-me,” Sam called out to the waiter. “Could you make his pancakes in the shape of an angel?” he asked, ignoring Bucky who was openly glaring at him.

The waiter, albeit a little surprised, kept a smile on his face. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Bucky told him, handing him the menu. “Thank you.”

Without another look to his friends, he grabbed his phone and checked his messages for the third time in less than two minutes. Steve snatched his phone up and sat back in his seat, waving the phone at Bucky.

“Enough! Live in the moment.” He pocketed the phone and gave Bucky a pointed stare. “You’ll get it back later.”

“What the hell? You’re not my father, give it back!” Bucky snapped, extending his hand, the palm facing up. Steve shook his head. “Give it back, you fucking meatball.”

He got up and tried to reach inside Steve’s pocket for his phone but Steve kept shifting in his seat. They wrestled like that for a minute while Sam watched them, eating a breadstick and looking mildly entertained.

“Okay, fine,” Bucky panted, pushing himself away from Steve. “You leave me no choice, Rogers.” He cleared his throat like an actor about to jump on stage. “Give me back my phone, Steve!” he said, raising his voice. “Do you enjoy stealing from disabled people?”

He nearly shouted the last two words, and to Steve’s horror, the buzz of conversation around them had died. He could feel people staring at him. Cursing softly under his breath, he reached into his pocket and dropped the phone into Bucky’s awaiting hand.

“It’s okay, we’re friends,” Steve said to the people sitting behind him. They looked at him with a disapproving glare. “Jesus, Bucky, you’re making me look like an asshole.”

An amused expression crossed Bucky’s face as he sat back in his seat. “Don’t touch my stuff.”

It was quiet while he checked his messages. Slowly, those around them returned to their own conversations. Sam pointed his half-eaten breadstick at Steve.

“Do you think the waiter will spit in your omelette?” he said the last word with an exaggerated French accent. Steve glared at him.

Their waiter arrived a moment later carrying a large tray with their brunch. Steve poked at his omelet with a suspicious frown, then looked over at Bucky who was still on his phone. Sam stole a slice of bacon from Bucky’s plate and gave it to Steve.

“I hear you’ve got a date tonight,” Sam said, making conversation.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled, embarrassed. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just looking for something casual. I’m leaving in two days.”

“Where’re you going this time?”

“South Africa,” Steve replied, stealing another slice of bacon. “What about you? What’s that big emergency?”

Sam glanced at Bucky who was grinning like an idiot at his phone. “Not now. Let’s eat first.” He took the plate of bacon, took what he wanted then handed it to Steve. “Want another?”

Steve kept looking over at Bucky while they finished his bacon but Bucky didn’t seem to acknowledge their presence. He was in his own little bubble.

“It’s like we don’t even exist,” Steve remarked out loud.

“I know, it’s amazing. Look!” Sam straightened up in his seat and cleared his throat. “Bucky Barnes is the biggest idiot on the planet, and he can eat my farts.” Bucky was hunched over his phone, his thumb typing away. “See?”

“Impressive.”

“That’s the angel effect,” Sam said.

With a happy little sigh, Bucky pocketed his phone and turned his attention to his friends. He frowned at the amused look they shared.

“What are you guys talking about?”

“Steve’s first date in two years.” Sam turned to Steve. “You must be nervous.”

“Strangely, no.” Steve broke off a small piece of omelet with his fork. “I actually know him. He’s an old friend from college.”

“Nice,” Sam said.

“He’s a fashion photographer now.”

“Wait, what?” Bucky’s brows pinched in confusion as he stared at Steve.

Undeterred, Steve continued. “We’ve been facetiming a lot lately.” He shot Bucky a glance. “Why do you think I go to bed at 8?”

“But I thought-”

“You thought I had a date with your girl,” Steve said with a warm smile. “Listen, man, I like her. She’s cute, funny, talented. She’s a real sweetheart. But I like her because she brought back that light in your eyes. You look happy. That’s all I ever wanted for you. You had to go through so much crap, Buck. You deserve this.”

Bucky looked down at his pancakes, feeling tears pool in his eyes. He blinked them back and sniffed quietly. “So you were never going to ask her out.”

“I was until you called her ‘angel’,” Steve replied with a shrug. “You kept saying you were okay with this but, I mean, I’m not that dense.”

“Why do you keep going out with her then?” Bucky grumbled.

“Jeez, Mother Gothel, I didn’t know Rapunzel wasn’t allowed to leave the tower,” Steve exclaimed. “We were bored. You’re in your office all day. It was fun to mess with you though. You’re a grumpy Gus when you’re jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous, okay. I was annoyed. There’s a difference.”

“Uh-huh.”

Bucky looked over at Sam who had been strangely quiet throughout this whole exchange. He loved teasing Bucky, and he always had something to say about Bucky’s love life. Sam wasn’t looking at Bucky, he just pushed his food around with his fork, his lips pinched shut. He met Bucky’s eyes, then lowered his head again.

Bucky had a feeling something bad was about to happen.

“What’s the big emergency?” he asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

Sam set his fork down beside his plate and leaned back against his chair with a sigh. He trained his gaze on the front door, seemingly deep in thought.

“I’m moving to D.C.” He paused to let the information sink in. “They’re transferring me to the D.C. office. I’m their new chief financial officer.”

“Congrats, man!” Steve exclaimed. “You deserve it.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“So why the long face?”

“I’m a little anxious to leave New York. What will Barnes do without me? Without his mentor? Without someone to look up to?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I think I’ll be all right.” He hesitated before he asked, “Did you tell her?”

“Tell who?” Steve inquired, polishing off the last of his omelet.

Bucky felt the wave of long-held sadness his Sam’s eyes. “I’ll tell her tonight.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look. They weren’t sure how Steve would react.

The word sugar daddy held a pejorative connotation. Every single one of those relationships featured a powerful, rich man and a poor, vulnerable man or woman. There was a clear power imbalance here that never appealed to Bucky, and he was pretty sure it never appealed to Sam either.

Whether it was a no-strings-attached service or an emotional service, it was still a hole in your resume. One that would be hard to explain to your future employers. He was afraid people would call you names, treat you differently or harass you if they knew.

He often wondered if he had unintentionally ruined your life.

Deep down he knew Steve would never call you a whore or treat you differently but he was still trying to protect your reputation. He believed that Sam had Natasha’s best interest at heart too.

Sam told Steve everything. He remembered the day he had met Natasha, their instant chemistry, the subtle flirting, the arrangement, their first night out, their first kiss, their first time together, their new arrangement. Steve listened attentively. When Sam told him that you were Natasha’s best friend, Bucky interrupted him and told his own story.

“Wow,” Steve deadpanned, leaning forward to take one of Sam’s poached egg and avocado toast. Sam slapped his hand away. “Is that a thing now? Sugar daddies, I mean?”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Yeah.” Steve sipped his mimosa with a bored look on his face. “You’re both not ready for the real conversation, so I’m just making small talk.”

Sam and Bucky exchanged confused looks. “What real conversation?”

“Sam, you just got an amazing promotion, you’re going to be the Prince of D.C. and you’re sitting here like someone kicked your puppy,” Steve replied, then turned to Bucky. “And you, well... I’ve been living with you for the past two weeks and you’ve gone all Alpha male on me, Buck. Cut the shit. You’re both in love with your sugar babies. Companions, or whatever the fuck you want to call them.”

Sam and Bucky sat in silence with their heads hung low. Steve opened his arms wide like a lawyer in a bad TV show saying ‘I rest my case’. When he spoke again, his voice was soft.

“Look, as maybe the world's leading authority on waiting too long, don't,” he said. “What’s the worst that could happen, um?”

It made Bucky think. Best-case scenario, you loved him too and life was a breeze for the next fifty years. Bad-case scenario, you didn’t share his feelings. Worst-case scenario, you shared his feelings but couldn’t make the transition from sugar baby to girlfriend.

Yeah, worst-case scenario sucked...

He came home around three in the afternoon, and smiled when he saw your shoes and coat. Knowing you were home always put him in a good mood, but his heart was heavy. He felt conflicted. He didn’t know if it was better to tell you how he felt now or to just keep living in this little bubble with you until it’d inevitably burst.

And to make things worse, Sam was going to end his contract with Natasha tonight. He made Bucky promise not to tell you about it. Bucky felt sorry for Natasha, he wondered if she had feelings for Sam. He wondered if she had a backup plan.

He found you in your studio, sitting on the floor, huddled against the wall, with one knee drawn up to your chest and your arms loosely wrapped around your leg. You were staring at the painting you’d just made, the still wet paint glistened under the artificial lights.

This painting was different from your usual landscapes and occasional portraits. There were various shades of blue and grey intertwined, and five big splotches of dark red paint layered on top of the canvas.

Bucky knew just by looking at you that something was wrong. You looked defeated, sad, upset. He reasoned that your interview didn’t go as planned. Quietly, he stepped into the room and sat down on the floor next to you, his left shoulder brushing your own.

“I just got home,” he said.

“Where’s Steve?”

“He said he had some errands to run. He’ll be back later.”

You nodded, still staring straight ahead. “Okay. I bet you can’t wait to have some time to yourself. I asked Natasha if I could stay with her, but she’s going out with Sam tonight. I’ll stay in my room, I won’t bother you.”

Bucky felt his heart drop, his breath caught in his throat. He had made the woman he loved feel unwelcome. God, he wanted to kick his own ass.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, tilting his head to look at you but you were stubborn and refused to meet his eye. “I thought you were going out with Steve and I- I didn’t want you to feel like you had to stay with me.”

“I’m not interested in Steve. I told you that.”

“I know.” He moved so that he could see your face. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you, and for the way I treated Steve. It won’t happen again. I promise. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, Bucky,” you huffed.

He saw your chin quiver slightly and your eyes glaze over with unshed tears. You looked utterly broken. He reached up and wiped a stray tear from your cheek.

“Sorry, I had a difficult day,” you said.

His palm cupped the side of your face, his thumb stroking a caress across your cheek. You met his eyes for the first time and he smiled softly at you.

“My angel.”

His words made you cry even harder, silent tears streaming down your cheeks. With his hand still cupping the side of your face, he leaned closer and pressed his lips against your other cheek. You closed your eyes and basked in his affection.

He could feel the warmth of your tears, could taste the salt on his lips as they streamed down your cheek to his mouth. Slowly, he pulled back and looked at you, a smile forming on his lips when he saw a fleck of dried blue paint above your eyebrows.

“Painter Smurf,” he teased, wiping it off. You let out a huff of air that sounded like a laugh. “I’m here for you, angel, whatever you need.” He pulled you against his side and you rested your head on his chest.

“My interview didn’t go very well,” you said after a long moment of silence. “She said that I’m really talented, that my technique is perfect. But my work is too figurative. It’s not what she’s looking for.” You paused to wipe your nose on your sleeve. “It’s just- It wasn’t my first meeting. They all tell me the same thing: I’m not good enough.”

“That’s not true,” Bucky said, kissing your hair. “Your work is unique. It’s raw and beautiful. If they can’t see that then they’re morons.”

“She told me that if I had been a white man in the nineteenth century, people would still talk about me today.” You sighed. “I don’t know, Bucky. Maybe I should work on something more abstract.”

Bucky tilted his head to one side as he looked at your painting. “Is that why you painted this?”

“Mhhh,” you hummed. “She told me to play with the textures, the forms, the lines, the colours. Suggest rather than show. Let the painting tell its own story.”

“Yeah, I think you did it.”

“You think it’s good?”

“I don’t think those adjectives apply here. Not with modern art. It’s in the eye of the beholder,” he said, running his fingers along your shoulder. “Abstract art isn’t supposed to be beautiful, it’s supposed to make you feel something, right?”

“How does it make you feel?”

“Unsettled, sad.”

You straightened up and sat shoulder to shoulder. “My brother died in a hit-and-run.” You let the information sink in for a minute. “I was with Okoye, we got a call from our mom but by the time we got to the hospital, he was already dead.”

Your voice was surprisingly calm and controlled. Bucky wanted to reach out to you but he was unable to move. He listened attentively, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest.

“He was wearing some kind of compression shirt, grey-blue with two white stripes, and it was covered in blood. When I close my eyes and think of that day, all I remember is that shirt and the blood.” You tilted your head and gave him a little smile. “That’s what I painted.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He just sat there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. He couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Sorry,” you let out a small laugh. “I had a shitty meeting and then I came home and basically relived one of the worst days of my life to put it on a canvas. Now it’s staring at me and all I want is to shred it to pieces.”

Bucky noticed that your hand was close to one of your palette knives. Your fingers brushed against the handle, debating whether you should pick it up and slash the canvas. He laid his hand on top of yours.

“It won’t help,” he said. “Trust me. I can put the painting somewhere else if you want. You won’t have to look at it again. I promise.”

“Yes, please.”

“C’mon, beautiful, let’s go downstairs. I know someone who can help you.” He got to his feet and extended his hand to you. You frowned up at him, a silent question in your eyes. “His name is Bob and he paints happy little trees.”

A bright, wide smile spread until it lit up your whole face, and Bucky’s heart melted at the sight. He grinned at you and pulled you to your feet.

“I love Bob Ross,” you said, and Bucky gave your hand a little squeeze.

In the living room, you sat down on the sofa, crossing your legs under you and grabbed a blanket while Bucky connected his YouTube account to the TV. He sat down beside you, propping his feet up on the coffee table and adjusting the blanket in his lap.

“Hi, welcome back. Certainly glad you could join me today.” The show started and you melted against Bucky’s chest, pulling the blanket up to your neck. “Thought today we could do a fantastic little painting-”

You were pressed against his bad side, but Bucky didn’t mind. As the show progressed, you slid further into his lap until your head rested on the armrest of the sofa, close to Bucky’s right hand.

“People know when you’re happy. They can look at your paintings and tell how you were happy. They reflect your moods. Paintings are a reflection of your innermost feelings.”

He gave your head a little massage while you both watched Bob Ross create a stunning lake view painting.

“Cuz in your world, you can create any kind of illusion that you want. I spent half my life in the military, and I had to live in somebody else’s world all the time. Painting offered me freedom, I’d come home after all day of playing soldier and I could paint the kind of world that I wanted. It was clean, it was sparkling, shiny, beautiful-”

You shifted a little, and Bucky wondered if those words resonated with what you had been through. Being adopted, losing a brother, taking care of your sick mother when your siblings left, graduating, making ends meet... Those experiences had shaped you into the woman you would be for the rest of your life. A kind and strong woman who never really got to live or enjoy life.

He understood how important painting was to you. He was an artist too. He wasn’t a painter, but writing offered him a kind of freedom he had lost a long time ago.

“We should paint along,” you said, tilting your head up to look at him. “Then I’ll sell yours. I bet people would pay a lot of money to own an original Grant Thomas painting.”

Bucky chuckled. He knew you were teasing him, the slight curl of your lips said as much. “I’ll sign it James Barnes. It’ll be worthless.”

“It’s not worthless to me,” you said.

“Would you hang it in your room?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then, okay, I’ll paint along with you.”

When the episode ended, you decided to eat dinner first and paint later. You were sitting at the kitchen island, eating a bowl of leftover pasta from the night before, when Steve came home.

“Hey guys,” he greeted, throwing a plastic bag on the kitchen island before he made his way to his bedroom.

“I’m so fucking late. I still need to take a shower and get dressed.” Steve came out of his room, shirtless, and working his belt buckle open. “Hey, Buck, can I borrow some clothes?”

“I swear to fuckin’ God, Rogers, if you undress in the middle of the kitchen I’ll make you eat your jeans.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He rushed to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. A minute later, Bucky heard the shower running.

Later, you went upstairs to gather canvases, paint brushes and paint while Bucky helped Steve pick out an outfit.

Steve was too excited about his date to remind Bucky that he was an idiot, and Bucky was happy that for once they didn’t talk about his feelings for you. He teased Steve and watched as Steve squirmed, the tip of his ears bright red. Just like old times.

Then they met you downstairs where you had two easels set up in front of the television. Steve stood in front of you, visibly nervous and agitated, while you looked at him from head to toe.

“How do I look?”

“Like you’re wearing clothes two sizes too small for you, which makes you look even bigger than you normally are so... pretty good.”

“Yeah?”

You chuckled. “You look great, Steve.”

Steve responded with a relieved sigh and a little bashful smile. Bucky liked that look on Steve, it reminded him of their childhood when Steve awkwardly flirted his way through Brooklyn.

Bucky jerked back to the present when Steve turned to him for confirmation. He gave him a firm nod and a thumbs-up, then walked him to the kitchen. They talked about Steve’s plans for the night while Steve gathered up his things.

Bucky was walking back to the living room when Steve called out his name and threw something to him. Bucky caught it in mid-air, then looked down at his hand. A shiny looking condom wrapper was nestled in the palm of his hand. He scowled at Steve.

“Just in case,” Steve said with a shit-eating grin.

“You’re a dead man.”

Steve’s laughter echoed down the corridor as he left the apartment.

Blowing out a breath, Bucky pocketed the foil packet and joined you in the living room. You were sitting at your easel, blobs of paint arranged in a semicircle on a palette. There was another easel next to yours, with a palette resting on a stool to make things easier for him.

You selected the lake view episode you had watched earlier, thinking that it would make things easier. Bucky was in awe of you, you made painting look so effortless and beautiful. You added your own trees and clouds, shifting things around to create your own world.

Bucky followed Bob Ross’ instructions closely but, in his opinion, it looked like someone had made it with their feet. You laughed at his comment and told him that you would still hang it in your room. It boosted his ego a bit.

When you both finished your painting, Bucky looked up at the clock. It was close to midnight which made him do a double take.

“Time for me to hit the hay,” he said, yawning. “This is as good as it’s gonna get.”

“Mhh,” you mused, turning the TV off.

“You okay?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, I- uh, I was kind of hoping we’d do this all night,” you said, playing with a mostly dried paintbrush. You looked at him from under your lashes. “But it’s fine. I understand, you’re tired. I think I’ll wait for Steve.”

Bucky looked at you with a pained expression. He could tell something was bothering you. He placed his index finger under your chin and tilted your head up. “Angel, I don’t think Steve is coming home tonight.” You pinched your lips together and nodded. “Talk to me. I want to help.”

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Your words hit him like a punch in the chest, leaving him momentarily breathless. He pulled you close and pressed a long kiss to your forehead. You clung to him for dear life, your warmth and familiar scent made his heart ache.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled against your skin, then pulled back a little so he could look you in the eye. “Let’s change into something more comfortable, um? Then we’ll catch some shut-eye. I have an idea, the first person to fall asleep has to make breakfast tomorrow.”

“You sure?”

“You’re right. I’m exhausted, I’ll fall asleep first,” he said, shaking his head. “New rule, last person to fall asleep has to make breakfast.”

You snorted. “No, I meant... are we going to sleep in the same bed?”

“I promise I’ll stay on my side. But if it makes you uncomfortable, there’s a bunk bed in Steve’s room.”

“No, it’s fine. I want to wash my face first. I’ll see you in a minute.”

Bucky tried to play it cool but his heart was pounding. He kept seeing flashes of his dreams in his mind: skin against skin, steady puffs of air brushing against his skin, the smell of sweat and something uniquely you surrounding him.

He was absolutely terrified.

He went upstairs, took a quick shower, brushed his teeth and changed into his pyjamas. His night-time regimen took longer than he had anticipated so he wasn’t surprised when he found you sitting cross-legged on his bed, scrolling through your phone, looking so calm and peaceful.

You were wearing your pyjama bottoms and a fluffy sweatshirt stained with blue paint and tomato soup. He felt his stomach flip when you raised your head and smiled at him. A chill ran through his spine, and made the hairs on his arm stand on end. He’d never seen you look more beautiful.

“Hey,” you said, placing your phone on the nightstand. “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”

“The side you’re sitting on.” You rolled to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers making him laugh. “You didn’t have to move.”

“It’s fine. I prefer this side.” You looked around the room. “I like your room. It’s very you.”

“Ah?”

“Yeah, neat, organized, lots of books, a cosy armchair, stormy blue comforter. It looks intimidating but it’s actually really soft. Like you.”

He suppressed a laugh. “Thanks.”

Bucky climbed into bed beside you, turned off the light and drew the blanket over him trying to get warm. He lay on his back looking up at the ceiling. He was so stiff and nervous, he forced himself to breathe normally. You turned onto your side and slid one of your hands under your pillow.

“Do you usually read before you go to sleep?” you whispered, afraid to disturb the silence.

“Yes,” he whispered back. “Do you?”

“Sometimes.” There was a moment’s silence before you spoke again. “I’ve started reading your book.”

“Oh, Christ,” he let out a small laugh and turned his head to look at you, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. “I hope I didn’t traumatize you.”

“You have a very dark sense of humour,” you said. “But I already knew that.”

“I’ve always had a dark sense of humor, but trust me, when I lost my arm I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Therapy helped a lot. Besides, laughing is good for your health, right? My books are very personal, I don’t censor myself.”

“I know. I wasn’t expecting it to be so honest.” You shifted a little and looked away from him. “I don’t know if I’ll finish it, I feel like I’m intruding.”

“I understand.” He shifted slightly so he was lying on his left side, facing you. “I wrote it like a diary. Talking isn’t my strong suit. I don’t know, I think I’m trying too hard and I just end up being rude or not making sense. When I write, I take my time, I find the right words. It’s easier when I don’t have to look anyone in the eye.”

He knew his book was a little rough. He focused on his depression, his rehabilitation, relearning basically everything. He talked about rediscovering his body, intimately. He talked about his friends, his family, strangers, therapy, dating.

“Can I ask you a very personal question?”

“Of course.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

He swallowed hard, his throat raw and tight. “Yes.” In fact, he was in love right now. “Once. I don’t trust easily.”

“I know I read what happened between you and your girlfriend.”

She had been his first girlfriend since the accident. She was kind, patient, a little over excited but he found it cute. In a way, she reminded him of himself before the accident. She wasn’t afraid to touch him, and God, he needed to be touched.

Sam had witnessed little things that irked him but Bucky had ignored him, refusing to see the warning signs. He wanted to be happy again. But then he couldn’t bury his head in the sand anymore.

She treated him like a child in front of their friends, and her friends praised her for taking such good care of a man like him. A man who, in their mind, was high maintenance. She cut his meat for him even though he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. She helped him dress, tied his shoes, zipped up his coat, etc... He felt infantilized, humiliated.

He didn’t think she was a bad person though. It was just her personality.

“How’s Natasha?” he asked suddenly.

A puff of air caressed his face as you snorted out a laugh. “Why do you ask? You don’t like her.”

“I like her a lot,” he argued. “She seems wary of me, which I understand, but she’s great.”

“Yeah, she is.” You considered his words. “She’s doing well. She went on work date with Sam.”

Despite his promise to Sam, he couldn’t bear the thought of keeping things from you. “I have to tell you something about Sam and Nat.” You waited for him to continue. “Sam got promoted, he’s moving to D.C. He broke things off with Natasha tonight. I mean, their arrangement.”

“I know,” you said. “She texted me while you were in the bathroom. I’m going to spend the night at her place tomorrow. It’s been a while since we had a girls’ night, and we both really need it.”

“Good.” He cupped the side of your face, let his thumb brush your jaw. “I’m going out with the boys tomorrow. Steve’s leaving soon.” He pulled his hand back. “We should try to get some sleep.”

“No, please,” you said, shifting closer to him. “Not yet.”

“Angel, we can’t stay awake all night.”

“I don’t want to be alone in the dark.”

“I’m right here with you,” he spoke gently.

“But once you fall asleep I’ll be alone.”

Bucky raised his head and kissed your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin. When he pulled back, he rested his hand on your forearm and let his warmth seep into your skin. His thumb caressed the inside of your wrist, stroked over your racing pulse point.

“I’ll wait until you fall asleep,” he said.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You smiled and let your index finger run down the length of his nose. “Does it hurt when you sleep on your left side?”

“Not really,” he replied. “Most of the time it’s just weird. It feels like my phantom limb hangs down through the bed. Like my arm is invisible and just goes through the bed.”

“What do you miss the most?”

He let out a long exhale. “Not much. Hugs. Proper hugs... I guess. Holding someone close and wrapping myself around them. Squeezing someone against my chest, making them feel protected. I used to be a great hugger. Now I give bro hugs.”

“I love bro hugs.”

His chuckled dissolved into a grin, and you both stayed quiet for a moment. He knew you weren’t asleep, he could hear you thinking. “What’s on your mind, beautiful?”

“I was wondering,” you started, then trailed off. “One day we’ll have to end this arrangement. Do you think it’ll end well, or is it going to be messy?”

It took him a minute to respond.

“Y’know, one of the things I learned in therapy was to stop worrying about things I can’t control,” he said. “That’s in the future, for future-you and future-me. I don’t know how it’ll end but I can promise you one thing: I’ll always be there for you. Arrangement or not.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out. “Right-now-me is a lucky bitch.”

You both laughed softly, then fell into a contemplative silence. There was something so peaceful about lying in bed with you, his hand loosely wrapped around your wrist, sharing warmth. He didn’t want to fall asleep.

For the next hour you talked about your families, your childhood, your friends, your likes and your dislikes. You told him about being an adopted child and living with other adopted kids. He could tell you were holding back when you talked about your siblings.

The only one you gushed about was Okoye. You were evasive when you talked about Scott and Wanda, though you did tell him that you had agreed to meet Wanda.

“What’s your favorite comfort food?”

“Breakfast for dinner.” Your voice was soft and small, he knew you were falling asleep. “When I was a kid, we had breakfast for dinner every Sunday night. We’d grab a bowl of our favourite cereal and eat together in front of the TV. I miss those days.” Your face was half buried in your pillow. “What’s yours?”

“Easy, pancakes.”

You smiled, your eyes were closed. “I like pancakes too.”

He watched you fall asleep and made a mental note to make some pancakes for breakfast. Your breathing evened out, and he waited a few more minutes to make sure you were asleep before he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.

Bucky woke up to the sound of rain striking against the window. He opened his eyes and noted that the room seemed brighter than usual. A quick glance at the bedside clock told him that it was already a little past eight.

He stretched, sighing contentedly, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his closed fist. He tilted his head to look at you, still sleeping next to him. You lay on your stomach with your face turned away from him and your arms hugging your pillow. He adjusted the covers around your shoulders and stealthy slipped out of bed.

He went to the window and fixed the shades to make sure they didn’t let any light in. Then he made his way downstairs where he found Steve cracking eggs into a bowl. He was still wearing Bucky’s clothes, but his hair was a mess. Still he looked positively glowing.

“Mornin’,” Steve greeted with a wide smile.

“Hey, man.” Bucky took a seat at the kitchen island. “When did you get back?”

“About ten minutes ago. Long enough to notice that your angel hasn’t slept in her room last night. Wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Bucky said with a shrug. “She didn’t want to be alone.”

“So you slept with her.”

“We slept in the same bed. Nuance.”

“I’m gonna nuance your face with my fist if you don’t talk to her soon,” Steve exclaimed. “She’s not going to stay single forever, Buck. Things are gonna change, one way or another.”

“I know.”

Steve set the bowl aside and held the edge of the counter behind him. He sighed, exasperated. “If I were you, I’d talk to her before something happens and takes your choices away from you.”

Bucky pinched his lips together, hard, and looked down at the counter. A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I- I don’t know how to talk to her,” he said, feeling tears gather in his eyes. He met Steve’s eyes. “I physically can’t talk to her. It hurts. It’s stuck here-” he aggressively grabbed his stomach “-all the time. And it hurts, Steve, you have no idea how painful it is.”

“That’s love,” Steve replied, smiling at him like he, too, knew how it felt.

“Well, it fucking sucks.”

Bucky wiped the back of his hand against his runny nose. Steve stood there in silence.

“This book I’m writing,” Bucky said, breaking the silence. “It’s about her. Just her.” He paused. “I can’t back down now, my publicist’s too invested in our story. I know it’s an eccentric way of telling someone you fell in love with them but... writing’s easier than talking.”

Steve nodded, his eyes glued to the floor. “It’s like a long love letter.”

“Something like that.” Bucky climbed off the stool and rounded the kitchen island. “Now, I’m going to make breakfast. I promised her pancakes.”

Steve smiled and watched him move around the kitchen. “I hope it works out for you, Bucky. I really do.”

Part 10

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