#also sorry i’ve been gone lately i’ve just been doing really shit mentally and i have no energy

[abiiors]

wonky photos but i got 2 new tattoos 🤍

[jukeboxjackal]

toxic nat and reader break up and have so much tension until they hu at a dinner party

hey guys hey guys!! sorry haven’t been here for a while but like i think i decided i’m gonna answer all of my asks (2) and maybe prob start writing again! wooo!!!

okay so first things first

1. i will NOT be doing like a full hu, there will be themes yes but as aforementioned i don’t write smut

2. this is actually a great idea so i’m gonna give y’all a preview bc it’s really late and then i’ll edit and finish later

3. sorry for taking forever twin!!

I know you miss me.

toxic! nat x fem! reader

warnings: toxic behavior, more mentioned in the future. also the usual like cursing yap yap yap

“hey”

you whipped your head around, you recognized that voice. God awful but 𝗵𝗲𝗿 voice will always plague your mind. the woman who you’ve been avoiding all night.

she looked restless, almost like she actually 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 you. ‘ha, fat fucking chance’ you thought. you debated if you actually wanted to talk to her, but she moved closer, so you knew you had to. and with a loud sigh you said:

“hi”

you mentally cursed yourself. ‘that was actually so lame, stand your ground (y/n), damn’. so you spoke again,

“what do you want natasha?” you sighed it out, you don’t even know why you’re talking to her again.

‘she’s not worth it’ ‘she never loved you’ ‘stop trying to convince yourself that she’ll ever change.’

but you know she will, she always does. ‘fuck it not today.’

you tried to turn back around, but she put a hand on your shoulder. you flinched.

“(y/n), i’m serious. don’t fucking walk away from me.” she just whispered out.

you looked back at her, and she looked a cross between pissed and so, so fucking sad.

“hey, this is clint’s party, just let me enjoy myself. i already told you i never wanted to see you again.” and you saw a flash of hurt and anger in her eyes. ‘why the fuck is she the mad one here?’

you both were at clint’s little get together, and you went outside for fresh air, but you guess she followed you out. you were happy, you hadn’t seen the team in a while, natasha always kept you away. and when they asked, you were always “sick” or “on a trip”. but now she was gone, and you finally got back in touch with them, but God, you could never muster up the strength and courage to tell them what had all happened.

natasha scoffed,

“enjoy yourself? or enjoy these other bitches? i’ve been looking at you all night, just to see you with carol, or my friends. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦.” she spat that last part out.

you let out a dry laugh. “oh wow natasha, glad to see you haven’t changed. i have though, and now you can’t control me anymore.” you stared directly at her.

“oh please, you know damn well i didn’t do shit wrong. and you also know that you miss me, huh?” she moved closer to you.

“natasha, what the hell?” you looked around. she put her hand on your face though, softly.

“oh baby, i’m the only one for you.” “what happened was a mistake, but i promise you i have changed.” she whispered to you.

“oh bullshit, nat!” you had tears forming. “you just acted the same literally two seconds ago, stop trying to play me for a fool!” you were very much emotional now.

“and that’s why you still call me nat. you already know how much i appreciate you, and that you just can’t seem to get over me, huh?”

that was true, you hadn’t dated or talked to anyone in 4 months. but maybe that was just how impactful she was on you, that you’d been afraid to love again.

“shut up.”

“so it is true, (y/n) you haven’t changed a bit sweet girl.” natasha caressed your face.

you tried to pull away, but she had you against the wall. you could smell her sweet scent, which did NOT reflect her personality.

“just this once,” she whispered “be mine again?”

you felt too much, you just wanted it to be over.

you closed the distance between you both with a kiss.

———

you woke up in her bed again, but you swear next time will be different.

you know it will be.

when you she was dead asleep, you packed up and left.

[epictoonstudios]

I took away all of his whimsy for the fun of it

Content warning for just venting and a suicide attempt mention

I actually feel like shit. I have been causing so many problems because of my health. My parents might have to sell our house for my stupid hospital bills. My sister could get taken away because we’ve had three cps cases because of my mental health. (My parents aren’t abusive don’t worry.) If I mess up again they’ll come again and they’ll take more from me. People just keep on taking more from me. Around September I couldn’t go to school. I came out of a mental hospital around that time too. I had to stay home for two months. The only interaction with people I had was therapy and family. I started having psychotic episodes. I went back to school and I wasn’t really a functional person. It’s been so fucking long since I’ve been a functional person. I constantly had absences. I ended up attempting suicide late February. I broke glass and picked up the pieces of off the ground. My parents stopped me before I could really do anything. A really small piece of glass ended up in my foot. There was a lot of blood for such a small wound though. They kinda just. Brushed it off. Stuff like this always happens because of me. I was really desperate. My therapist told me to call the cops on myself to put me in a mental hospital. But I have really bad experiences with them and they kinda scare me. But I was desperate for some sort of help. I was really desperate. I ended up talking to the school counselor. They tried hospitalizing me. But my parents were like haha nah. They also told me I would fail the school year if i continued going there. Even though I was passing and had good grades. This was kinda the final straw for them with me and my mental illness was just too much for them. (Plus another person told them about my problems during that time.)

So we had another cps case and my parents put me in a special needs school. It was really miserable. It was clear I didn’t belong there. It made me feel like I failed. I failed. I had to re experience sitting alone at recess again as a high schooler. Yes they had recess. It made me feel stupid being constantly treated like a little kid haha. I often thought about going back to public school as like my one hope. I was so so sure of it. I haven’t been able to see my therapist as much I usually do because my parents have been booking less appointments. Though my therapist hasn’t really been the most healthy relationship I have in my life. It really feels like I need her and can’t live without her. She’s been controlling most of my actions and decisions for the past two years and look where I’m at now. I feel like the people I care about don’t care about me as much as I care about them. I could be gone for months and it wouldn’t really affect anyone. I don’t that always happens to me. Months of isolation nothing unusual. My parents told me I’m going to another private special needs school. I just wanted to be a normal functional person with my friends. That was too much to ask for. Everything was too much to ask for. Sorry for just venting on Tumblr I feel hopeless.

[athousandmorningss]

Serious walking wound energy today.

The new coffee shop is real nice: sweetheart employees and coffee that is light and smooth, not dark and bitter/strong. Posted up in a corner and read/annotated some pages of things. Y’all ever done some crying in a coffee shop? Cos I sure did: on and off for about two hours. Read Paul Tran’s Poem “The Three Graces” and: “how miraculous it is to exist./ To live beyond survival” encouraged tears.

I am also reading Heartbreak: A Persona and Scientific Journey by Florence Williams. It traces the physical and mental impacts of life after divorce. So much of it resonates. “My husband was gone,” she wrote. “So much unseemly, adolescent, self-involvement: daydreaming, journaling, wanting to lie around and listen deeply to music and tell all my friends exactly what was going on. It’s tempting to dismiss the mistiness of this time as juvenile spaciness, but there was something else to it. It was about the process of becoming. It was hard work. It demanded attention and space...you have to plunge back in the jar like a pickled kipper and cure some more. You have to become again” (p. 97).

Yeah. That part.

-

A thing I’ve been feeling a lot lately is piercing anxiety and the inability to relax. I was so tense at the coffee shop: whole body vibrating nervousness and tightness. The book I’m reading reminds me to pay attention to my body and to care for it.

-

The flowers I got are fragrant and stunning.

-

My Ub*r driver on the way home was an old woman, old enough that she lives in a retirement community, as described by her. She told me her husband of 40 years died a year ago. “We had a long run together. I tell him all of the time, that if he ever needs me to go to him, to just tell me” and she snapped her fingers. “I’ll be right there.”

Old people working beyond retirement breaks my heart. I tipped her a $15.00, a habit I’ve started to do as an easy means of recognition. I hope it helps her.

-

Pride was all fucked up this year. They put metal fences in places that were several feet away from the actual parade. So, you couldn’t actually see it or get close to it. There was no energy moving between the viewers: it was so quiet and weird.

There was also an old man holding a “got aids yet?” sign. In sweltering, near hundred degree heat. This old man risking heat stroke for THAT. I cried immediately when I saw it. That shit really, really hurt my feelings. But across the street was another group of people I think from a church, holding signs that read “we love you” and “we’re sorry you don’t feel welcome” and other beautiful sentiments. One of them was an old woman, prolly in her 60s or 70s. The high five exchanged between us and my “thank you” also made me want to cry.

I often think of Pride as “for them,” but it is also for me. I am decidedly not straight but carry a great deal of internalized homophobia.

-

Oli is showing signs of his age today: a real slow walking gate and sore movements. I’m going to buy him stairs to help him get onto the bed. And I’m not going out tonight, but will instead stay home and snuggle my boy and rub his tummy.

16 years with my dearest friend.

[thatnarcissisticfeel]

hi! so i don’t rlly know how to even phrase this but lately i’ve had a lot of stuff getting worse, none of the “basic” diagnoses i have (like depression and anxiety and stuff) describes it at all. so i’ve started questioning if i maybe have a personality disorder bc it’d all make sense, both the behaviors and how i see the world and why its only getting worse and more noticeable now etc.

i keep finding myself in cluster B PD traits and lately ive been reading more on NPD and i genuinely completely see myself in the description of the covert subtype. i always blame others for everything and am completely unable of accepting or feeling guilt. nothing is ever my fault, its always someone else doing something or provoking me or it’s the way i was raised or it’s because of the system etc. i’m deeply insecure but hate showing any kind of vulnerability. when i’m in a vulnerable position i get ashamed and angry bc i cant stand feeling weak. i often get so angry i do shit that could easily destroy all the relationships i have. i never apologize (unless it’s a situation where i have to in order to save the relationship but still never actually feel sorry) bc that’s showing vulnerability and admitting i’m wrong. i always compare myself with others, i used to think this doesnt apply to me bc i generally don’t care about typical things such as popularity and status as i’ve always been an outcast - and it’s kind of a major part of my identity that i feel different than everyone else (even though its most likely just how i was forced to learn to cope with being excluded), but i’ve come to realize i absolutely do always see myself as “the worst one” in terms of mental health. i can’t stand others talking about their issues bc no you don’t even have it that bad at all, i’m worse. i feel like no one will ever be able to truly understand me bc the majority of people are npcs anyway. no one thinks for themselves, they dont have any self awareness and just do what they’re told. i treat others like shit but still expect them to be nice to me because i deserve it because i’m sick. i deserve more attention from doctors because of how unwell i feel. i should be the one that gets treated first. i obviously never voice these feelings but it makes me so pissed off when i have to wait like i’m never important enough for anyone. like there was this one case when i had to wait longer for my appointment bc some girl came in due to an emergency and all i felt was angry and annoyed and like when is it my turn to get taken seriously?? i completely lack affective empathy and very rarely genuinely care about others. others being sad annoys me and others being happy makes me angry, sometimes even to the point of having homicidal thoughts. i’m envious of pretty much everyone who i consider better off than me. and again i dont mean shit like money or clothes but more like just the ability to be normal, having close friends, being in a relationship, all that stuff i know i’ll never be able to have bc of my mental illnesses. i’ve never been able to form genuine relationships, i do have a few friends but they all mean nothing to me and are just there so i’m not lonely. i’ve never been able to feel love or affection for anyone. and when i think abt it i dont even really want to be like them, i just want to make them suffer. i lie to everyone and only reveal my “true” self when im having a breakdown and basically cant control myself anymore as i have so much suppressed anger inside i sometimes feel like i have to genuinely put effort into stopping myself from physically attacking others; who cares abt words when im that far gone. and even then i later turn it around and make it seem like im just depressed and stuff (which is true, but theres also so much more no one knows about). everyone around me considers me a shy meek polite nice caring person and it just feels so ironic.

idk what to do at this point, genuinely. writing it all down like this makes me sound so fucked up even though i act relatively normal when i’m stable enough. but in reality i feel like on the inside i’m just breaking, i’ve had to turn to drug abuse as its literally the only thing that helps me cope with everything & prevent me from being even more destructive (towards both others and myself) and its making me even more short tempered when im sober and even more paranoid someone’s going to find out and get me in trouble. my therapist knows about it but doesnt do shit. ive been on so many psych meds before but its as if literally nothing ever works on me. like i would never normally seek advice on tumblr out of all places but i thought just maybe i would get understood here as i keep getting just either ignored or insulted on places like reddit (sure jan calling me a psycho is definitely going to help my issues when all i did was fucking ask how to cope with my issues).

sorry abt the wall of text. do you have any advice? ive been going to therapy for years but its all useless. i cant be honest with anyone for pretty obvious reasons. i just really dont feel like living for much longer. but even just acknowledging this ask and not judging me would mean a lot.

I obviously can’t diagnose you, but I will say a LOT of what you said is behaviors that and I other NPDs do, which makes me think that even if you don’t have it, advice and such that is geared towards pwNPD could help you. Unfortunately there isn’t much self-help geared towards pwNPD (I say self-help bc clearly your therapist is not a good therapist for you and I know it would probably be difficult to get a new one), but DBT workbooks are a good place to start. I think they’re technically geared more towards BPD, but they can definitely still help narcissists. Stuff like this is why I hate how much NPD is stigmatized, because we all DO deserve help and we all DON’T deserve to feel like this.

It sounds pretty basic, but are you a part of anything like online NPD/cluster B support groups, ie discord servers? Obviously they’re not a cure-all, but even just being around people who have the same thing and who you don’t have to mask around can help. If you don’t have any I could happily provide some if I can find a public one. Of course, communities like that can be a hit or miss, but it’s definitely at least worth a shot to try to find a group of people who are struggling with the same thing.

Another piece of advice, which might sound completely neurotypical on the surface, is to start journaling or writing down feelings. It might seem like just a small thing but having a place that only you can access where you can talk about things like vulnerability could be a good starting point, because at least you’re admitting it to yourself and getting it out there in some way. Lying to everyone and not being able to show your true self is really exhausting, so having one space that’s yours and yours only where you can learn to be comfortable with being vulnerable — even if it’s just to yourself — is a tiny thing that can work wonders. It doesn’t have to be some super dramatic “dear diary, woe is me” type thing, it can be something as simple as “Today I fucked up, and I know I fucked up, but I still blame xyz, I hate xyz.” That way you’re getting the vulnerable thoughts AND the angry thoughts out there without 1.) hurting others with the angry thoughts or 2.) having to show vulnerabity which would hurt you.

Of course the end goal might be to “unlearn” the behaviors, so to speak, but that can’t be done overnight, and until it is done, it’s better to have a few places to be open, even if it’s just amongst yourself or other pwNPD.

I hope this helped, lmk if you need more advice — and definitely know that you’re not alone, as cheesy as it sounds.

[the-stray-pup]

Hi, sorry to snoop, but what is worrying you or confusing you and your sexuality? I'm curious since you said in the comments you might have sex soon

Sure let’s tell everyone on here my dilemma cause why not 😘

It’s long so you have been warned

Tw: past trauma mentions but I’m not going into depth on anything just mentioning shit

Hmm… where to start…

So I’m queer, but the current dilemma I’m having is on my romantic and sexual attraction toward others.

I’ve been in many a relationships but there’s only ever been a couple good ones. I went through a lot when I was younger and got introduced to sexual shit before hitting the double digits. I’ve always been sexualized in some way or another so at certain points I’m not sure what’s past training and what are my actual feelings.

Anyway I had this partner who was asexual and ironically that was the best relationship I had been in (before it got toxic lol) but I am very hypersexual because of all the sexual shit I’ve gone through and all that and at that time I hadn’t considered that maybe I was ace too, I just knew my partner was and I didn’t care at all that we would never have had sex. Essentially the relationships I’ve been the most comfortable in are ones where my partner is asexual

More recently in the past two or so years I’ve been wondering if I’m asexual which I know won’t make sense to many people because “but your blog!” But like 🙄 if you react that way just saying. I’ve always enjoyed the idea of sex more than the idea of actually doing sexual things with someone else. And it’s also a lot different doing things with someone through text where it’s like the idea of doing it or whatever and then like the actual thought of doing what I just talked to someone about isn’t appealing to me and grossed me out

I’ve only ever liked being kissed on the neck and everything else has just been not good experiences that I could say whether or not I’ve actually liked. But to be honest I don’t even like kissing.

Which I guess brings me to the guy I’m fwb with because when we had hung out last we kissed and I had actually never had a good kiss previous to that cause everyone just shoves their tongue in my mouth which is gross as fuck. But anyway even when I kissed him I was kinda disappointed cause I was just like “oh… this is it?” Because I just don’t really like lots of stuff or whatever. I mean the kiss got better the longer we did it which makes it even more confusing so 🤷🏻‍♂️

But anyway I haven’t really done more yet with him and like we flirt heavily over text and tease each other about sexual stuff but lately I’ve been just really confused about my feelings toward sex because I don’t think I’ve ever liked anyone romantically or sexually. I don’t know if I’ve ever been attracted to anyone in that way before or where I’ve actually liked someone like that which at least in this situation it’s fine at least on the romantic aspect cause we’re just friends and I don’t have to worry about those other feelings and what not

Yesterday I was just very sex repulsed. I had woken up horny and had gotten myself off a good number of times and then after that I didn’t want to have anything to do with sexual stuff it was making me feel extremely weird. Especially cause my body was still reacting to things but mentally I was just very grossed out at the idea of sex. And I get like that when I think about having sex sometimes like I can’t really stand the idea of someone being so close to me or like anything like that

Essentially I don’t know what is my hypersexuality and my actual feelings when it comes to things (: there’s so much more explaining I could do but this is long enough as it is already so thank you for coming to my TedTalk

[irishvampireboy]

YESSSS!!!! HIIIII!!!! sorry for getting back late, not felt that social today!

that makes sense! i feel like my stranger things special interest comes back in full swing every few years and it’s in that dormant state again. unfortunately. but what can i do!!

that’s totally okay! i get this 100%, i’m a little scared to come off anon anyways so this works out perfectly fine for me ^w^

well. okay. the thing is, my current hyperfixation is a little embarrassing for me to reveal to you… and it would make it very obvious to find me in your followers LOL. i will hide in shame!!! 😅 other things i do like are: music, video games, writing (fanfic, poetry, etc.), other word related stuff (ex: webweaves), movies/tv shows (have admittedly watched more tv shows than movies at this point), and probably other things i can’t quite think of right now! i didn’t list all that much but i am a little foggy in the brain rn :’))

that’s so sweet of you! you’ve been on my mind as well, i just didn’t know what to Exactly say to you lol. but i’m here now!!!!!

glad to hear you’re okay, that’s really nice. i heard your air conditioning is out :((( i hope you’ll be able to survive and such. god knows i cannot get a wink of sleep when it’s hot. sending you cool vibes!

i’ve been having a rough go of it lately but i’m hoping i get a breather soon from bad things happening or my brain convincing me everything’s gone to shit haha. trying to be kind to myself as best i can. pushing through.

thank you for being so kind about stuff <3 it’s genuinely so sweet and cute to see you happy to see me!!! /p it feels nice to be missed even if i am anonymous and a stranger more or less. it’s lovely to be back! i like being here! was just hard to find footing for a bit, you know? anyhow, feels nice to see you again!!!! i’m glad i get to be a little guy who’s around for you💘💞

-🦇 anon

Ooohh i totally get that!!!! Hyperfixations that ebb and flow are a thing for me too!!! Like for me, my mom just took me to the movie IF. VERY CUTE. but ryan reynolds was there so now he's back in my brain living rent free. Which was actually good timing cuz the Wolverine and Deadpool movie will be out soon so i can be extra excited to go see that! 🤣🤣🤣

Oohhh hahhaaha now I'm like 👀👀👀👀👀👀 but no it's totally okay! I wont go looking! But i do like games! Im really only good at like, racing games, pokemon, and the two newest zelda games. I never really played the older ones when i was young. But i adore, botw and totk. I love writing too, really only fanfic and not very often these days but when the inspo hits i like to dabble! Hahaha! And ive seen sooooo many movies and shows so thats probably a good place to start!!! Tho i am bad about watching newer shows... my brain has a "its not the right time yet" thing, for pretty much all media. Very annoying, but I get to things eventually. When the times right! Haha!

Air came back this morning thankfully!!! And i got a few hours of sleep once things cooled down! So sorry your brain is being rude and that possibly also life is being rude!!! I hope things get better! I'll send healing and good vibes your way!!!

Yesss!!! My batty little guy!!! And i totally get it! And absolutely no pressure to send a ton of messages. I 100% know how it feels sometimes to just not be feeling it. Or not knowing what to say. So definitely dont like, push yourself, especially if you're not feeling up to it mentally! I'll be here! No plans on going anywhere else!!! Just send stuff when and if you feel up to it! And I'll be happy to see you when you swing by!!! 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

[maddgical-boy]

I was looking at your MADD ask game and this one caught my eye because I’ve daydreamed about it so much lately.

So, for the game, I want to send in number 9! “if your paras found out you were their creator, how would they react?”

(I also might end up sending in more than one of these because this game looks so much fun, so be prepared for that, lmaooo!)

- @nevermore-grimes

man now i'm gonna start daydreaming about this too LOL

i'm gonna pick my musou warriors paracosm since they've been on my mind lately, but since it encompasses literally the entirety of the musou games that i enjoy i will just do the main four paras that i consider a family :>

9. if your paras found out you were their creator, how would they react?

AKEMI: akemi would think it's really cool at first and then get a little too existential about how her entire existence has been dreamed up by some teenager 😭 like she isn't even based in reality like the other characters she was an oc i made at age 12. poor baby. she will be nice to me though

CHIKURIN-IN: chikurin judges and hates me forever because how dare i put her in Terrible Situations (parentification and arranged marriage). i'm sorry girl but you have been assigned eldest sister at birth

YOSHITSUGU: his whole thing is going with the flow. he does not mind the fact that i know how he will imminently die and that i use the moment quite liberally for angst. (he thinks it's a little weird that i fixate on it so much but whatever is needed to further character emotional damages 👍)

TAKATORA: depending on if his day has gone to shit or not, his reaction will range from unimpressed to mental breakdown. this man has had enough stress in his life and to know that some loser continues to fuck with him for fun would make weaker men end it all

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 7,737 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader, also features Negan Smith Reader pronouns: she/her Era: post-Negan Alexandria Warnings: language, mild descriptions of injury and blood Summary: Imprisoned in Alexandria still, it seems Negan has a soft spot for Y/N, one of Alexandria's doctors. With Daryl gone moving the The Kingdom to Hilltop, everyone back home tries to weather the storm, and help comes from an unexpected place. A/N: I love Negan's redemption arc, so I was stoked to write this fic with some of him, Post-Saviors. I hope it gives you all the right kind of feels.

Your name: submit What is this?

Negan glanced up as heard the outside door open and footsteps approach down the stairs. He was seated on his bunk with his back against the wall when you appeared.

His face slowly grew into a wide smile and he straightened up. He snapped the book in his hands shut. “Well, hey there, dollface. You get my message?”

“First, don’t call me that… You know I hate it. Second, your message? Is that what we’re calling it? I’m here because Gabriel said you’re refusing to eat anything until you talk to me.” You paced over to the bars and peered through them at him.

Negan shrugged. “Isn’t exactly like I can pick up a phone and dial you, now is it?”

You sighed and gripped onto one of the iron bars. “A hunger strike? Really?”

“It sure as shit worked, didn’t it? Here you are.” He stood and crossed his cell, his eyes flitting to your graceful fingers curled around the cold iron, that tiny part of you crossing into his space. You must have noticed because you withdrew your hand and instead crossed your arms over your chest again, giving him a look of disapproval. Negan put an arm up and leaned against the bars on his forearm, stretching his tall, lean frame out above you. Your eyes met his and that cocky little smile stayed on his face.

“What do you want, Negan?” you asked. Your voice was always soft with him. It was one of the things he liked about you. He could only remember you raising it once, and he had been pushing his limits.

His grin widened and he looked you up and down. “Do you really want me to answer that truthfully?”

Your eyes narrowed, drawing a laugh from him. He straightened up.

“Take it easy, doll,” he said through his smile. “A little company would be nice to start. I mean, shit, I’m down here alone most of the time. I’ve memorized every goddamn crack in the walls, every screw and bolt. Ain’t exactly great for one’s mental health. I thought you believed in rehabilitation.”

“I do,” you said.

“Well, Father Gabe ain’t really doin’ it for me and he sure as shit isn’t much to fucking look at. That cloudy eye?” Negan affected a shiver. “I’d much prefer to be rehabbed by my favorite doctor. A real hands on approach with me would work wonders,” he quipped.

You ignored his innuendos and sighed. “You need to eat, Negan.”

His body language softened and he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah… Just don’t have much of an appetite for the boiled potatoes lately.”

You bit your bottom lip thoughtfully. “What if I get you something else?”

“Variety? Surely, I don’t deserve such a thing. But you’re gonna have to sweeten the deal a little more, darlin’.”

“Fine. What?”

“Really?” Negan laughed. “You are taking requests? Hot damn! It’s my lucky day. I’d like a steamy helping of aerobic activity with—”

“Negan,” you cut him off, your tone dangerous.

He shoved his hands into his pockets with a grin. “Alright, alright! I’m only joking. Well, I’m not but… I’m sure you get plenty of that from Daryl, right? If the man’s smart, he probably worships you at least twice a day—”

You turned and started toward the stairs. “I’m leaving!” you announced.

“Alright! Y/N! I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” Negan said more sincerely. “Just bring your pretty little self back here a second.” He wasn’t smirking anymore when you glanced back over your shoulder and you could feel some shift in the atmosphere of the room so you wandered back over and stood at the bars of the cell again.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “If you keep me company for a bit, I’ll eat whatever slop you want to throw at me.”

“You don’t get to make deals anymore, Negan. You know that.”

He rubbed a hand over his short hair and sighed. “Yeah, I know. I know… I’m asking,” he said. “Please?”

Your eyes wandered over his expression for a moment. He looked almost needy. Finally, you nodded. “Alright. Just this once. I’ll be back. I’m gonna get something for you to eat.”

“You, darlin’, are a gift,” he smiled.

“Enough with the pet names, okay?” you scolded him, giving him the most severe look you could muster.

“Right. Sorry… I just can’t help myself.”

“Uh huh… Don’t go anywhere,” you quipped, looking back over your shoulder.

He actually laughed quietly to himself. “You got it…”

You returned in a few minutes with some food for him and the key to his cell. Negan was still standing at the bars, leaning casually on them while he waited. You stopped in front of the door. “Move back,” you gestured. He straightened up and gave you a queer look.

“Really?” he said. “What do you think I’m gonna do to you, d—” he caught himself before the pet name spilled out and pressed a fingers to his lips. “Sorry. Sorry… But really? You think I’m gonna attack you or some shit?”

You gave him a long look, debating about whether to bring up the fact that you’d watched him beat two of your family members to death with a baseball bat or that you knew exactly what had been done to Daryl to torture him… But you decided against it and just tilted your head a little. “It’s just protocol. Come on. Back against the far wall.”

He begrudgingly obeyed, shoving his hands into his pant pockets as you unlocked the door and swung it open.

“I mean, technically, isn’t protocol that there’s supposed to be someone else here too any time you open up my box? So, it ain’t really protocol, is it? You are breakin’ the rules for little ol’ me,” he grinned.

You placed the tray of food down and backed out. The heavy bolt slid back into place with a weighty thunk that reverberated against the cell walls. You slipped the key back into your pocket and took a seat on the floor near the cell. “You gonna tell on me?” you asked.

Negan’s mouth twitched up into a smile again. He collected his tray of food and sunk down onto the floor right in front of you. You were only a couple feet from each other with the bars between you. “Hell no! I may be in prison but I ain’t no damn snitch,” he said. He took a huge bite into the apple you’d brought him and you watched as he closed his eyes, enjoying the sweetness and satisfying crunch. “Oh, fuck me. This is goddamn heaven!” he murmured. His eyes opened again and met yours. “Thank you for this. Really,” he said. For once, his tone was sincere.

You only nodded.

“So, how is Jude these days?” Negan asked, reaching for the chunk of bread on his plate. “It’s been a while since she’s popped by my window for a visit.”

“She’s fine.”

“That’s all I get? ‘She’s fine.’ Come on…”

You licked your lips thoughtfully and Negan’s eyes went right to them, but you didn’t seem to notice. “I’m pretty sure Michonne wouldn’t like me giving you details about her kids.”

“Well, Michonne ain’t here, and like I said before, I am not a snitch,” he retorted with a smile.

“Nice try.”

“Well, what the hell else are we supposed to talk about? The fucking weather?”

“You usually don’t seem to have any shortage of words, Negan,” you said, a small smile touching one corner of your mouth.

“Mmm,” he nodded, pointing at you. “That’s true. But everything else I can think of right now you would not like,” he said with a smirk.

Your brow furrowed. “Why is that?”

“Excuse the shit out of my goddamn French, but it is all fucking filthy,” he said. “I’m the prisoner, you’re the warden… I’m the mechanic and you can’t pay for your broken car. I’m the pizza delivery guy and you’re the wanting housewife—”

You rolled your eyes which sent him laughing again. But it was quickly cut off with a coughing fit that startled you. You sat up stiffly and found yourself gripping the cold metal bars of the cell, peering in at him with concern as he tried to suck in a breath. It took a while for him to get the cough under control and he swallowed down some water.

“How long have you had that cough?” you asked him urgently.

He let out a wry laugh. “I don’t fuckin’ know. Every damn day is the fuckin’ same,” he said, clearing his throat again. One glance at your face told him you were worried. “Aw, shit…”

“What?”

“You—you got that look on your face,” he said, gesturing toward you.

You shook your head vaguely. “What look?”

“That look. I can tell you’ve latched onto full-blown worry like a rotter on a dead cow. It’s just a cough, Doc.”

Your brow stayed furrowed. You weren’t convinced. “Negan. How long have you had it?”

He tried to laugh it off. “I told you! I really don’t know. You don’t need to be worrying about me. Hell, you’ve got Daryl to worry about, right? That’s more than fucking enough.”

You ignored him. “More or less than two weeks?” you pressed him.

“Pfft…” He rubbed a hand over his short hair again, thinking. “Probably more. But it’s nothing!”

You were already climbing to your feet though. “I’m gonna go get my bag and Gabriel and I’ll be back,” you said, in a hurry.

“Hey. Hey! This wasn’t the deal! You agreed to keep me company, not poke and prod me,” he said, watching you head for the door.

“Based on how you usually talk, I’d have thought you’d be into it,” you tossed back over your shoulder. You left Negan to shake his head and chuckle quietly to himself. By the time you returned with your med bag and Gabriel in tow as promised, he’d finished his meal and was sitting back on the edge of his cot.

This time Gabriel opened the cell and stood at the door as you went to Negan and set your bag down beside him on the cot, immediately digging out your stethoscope.

“I need to listen to your lungs, okay?”

“Yeah. Whatever you need, Doc. Hey, Gabe. Could you—” he let out a quick two-note whistle, “give us a little privacy? I’ve seen a lot of pornos that start this way, but the priest vibe doesn’t really fit the scenario, so—we’ll get you on the next one.” Gabriel only gave him a glare.

“Negan,” you growled. “Shut. Up.”

He laughed but quieted down and you slipped your stethoscope into his shirt. He flinched at the coldness of the metal.

“Yeah, that’s what you get. I was going to warm it for you but after that display—” You got it into place. “Alright. Deep breath, in and out.”

He complied. You could hear wheezing and crackling in his lungs. “Again.” The noise was distinctive and you didn’t have to strain to hear it. You moved to the other lung. “In and out again.” Same thing. You sighed and slipped your scope from under his shirt.

He glanced up at your face and for once didn’t crack a joke. “What’s the verdict?”

You glanced back at Gabriel. “You really didn’t notice his cough?” you asked, irritated.

Gabriel shook his head. “No.”

“Negan, you have bronchitis. And if we’re not careful it could turn into pneumonia. Especially down here in your cell, where it’s cold and damp. You need antibiotics.”

A strange expression took over Negan’s face. “Antibiotics?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “At least ten days’ worth. Luckily, I think we have some at the infirmary.”

“You’re really going to use antibiotics on me? I can’t see that being a particularly popular decision around the water cooler.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a fucking doctor. I’m not trying to win a popularity contest.” You grabbed your bag and strode over to the door. “And I’ll make sure you get some warmer blankets down here.”

Gabriel locked the cell door and seemed to want to say something to you.

“What?” you prodded him tersely.

“Are you sure he won’t get better without the meds? We’re bound to need them for someone else—” he started in a low voice.

You gave him a scathing look. “Gabriel, I’m a doctor. I swore to do no harm. He’s not getting better without them. He said it’s already been more than two weeks. Maybe if you had paid more attention and noticed his cough earlier, I could have done something else. But that isn’t what happened, and this is where we are. He’s getting antibiotics.”

Gabriel frowned and pocketed the keys before striding out. You watched him go, your jaw clenched.

Negan got up from his seat on his cot and came over to stand at the bars again. You turned when you sensed him there. There was no smirk on his face anymore. “Thank you,” he said. “You can correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t seem to wish that I’m dead. And you treat me like an actual human being.” He tapped a finger a little anxiously against the metal. “I mean, who else in this place ever worries about my health or whether I want to bash my head into the walls of my cell? I know I give you a hard time—to be fair it isn’t my fault you’re so damn sexy—but I hope you know how much I really do appreciate it.”

You sighed and Negan tried to memorize the soft expression on your face. “I don’t wish you were dead.” You hung your stethoscope around your neck and considered him thoughtfully for another moment. “I’ll check on you later. I’ll make sure you get those blankets and start the treatment.” With that, you left the makeshift jail.

Negan listened to your steps fade away and the outside door slamming shut before he went to lie down on his cot. Never gonna happen, he told himself. He knew that. But no matter how many times he told himself that, the way he felt about you didn’t change. He was drawn to something about you… What was worse, was he admired you more and more over time.

“Daryl?” you called out as you entered the apartment you shared. You could hear some noise inside.

“Back here,” he called out.

You found him in the bedroom. His hair was wet and the room was steamy and smelled of shampoo and soap. You wrapped your arms around his middle from behind. “You showered without me?”

“Ya, and trust me—s’a good thing. Ran into a small group of walkers out there and—fuckin’ blood everywhere.”

“Oh. Shit. I’m glad you’re okay,” you said, moving around to sit in front of him on the edge of the bed. He nudged his nose up in a nod and as his blue eyes drank you in a small smile appeared on his lips.

Your heart jumped like it always did. You loved that. No matter what was happening, how shit things were, he always smiled like that when he saw you.

“What’d ya get up to today?” he drawled. He flopped down on the bed beside you, landing flat on his back. His hand lazily found the hem of your shirt and sought your soft skin beneath it.

“Um—”

Daryl sat up immediately, his brow furrowing, narrowing his blue eyes. “What?”

“It’s not a big deal,” you said, resting your hand on his arm. “It’s just—Negan…”

Daryl let out a low noise like a growl. “What’d he do now?”

“Well—he was refusing to eat. Because he wanted to talk to me.”

Daryl’s stare became even more disgruntled.

“So, I went,” you shrugged. “Because he has to eat!”

“His choice if he wants to fuckin’ starve,” Daryl growled. “Or better yet—bring him some dog food.”

You gave Daryl a sympathetic look but only continued. “Well, anyway, I went and he had this coughing fit. It sounded horrible. I listened to his lungs and he has bronchitis. I’m worried it’s gonna to turn into pneumonia if we don’t get it taken care of.”

Daryl sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. He glanced back up at you and you reached for him, your hands landing gently on his sides. He smoothed his hand over one of yours. “Fuckin’ prick… Ya know I dun like ya goin’ to see him.”

“I know.”

Daryl gritted his teeth. “He’s really sick? This ain’t just some act or somethin’?”

“He’s sick,” you said again. “I heard it with my own ears.” Daryl sighed heavily.

“He went on a goddamn hunger strike until he got to see ya? Tha’s what yer tellin’ me?” His hand tightened over yours. “I dun like it. Y/N, I’m tellin’ ya… he’s got—”

“Hey—” You clasped his face in both hands and his blue eyes met yours. “I know what he did to you. To us. To our family. And it’s unforgivable.” You brushed his hair, still damp from his shower, back out of his eyes. “But I think I can help him. He’s already different. You have to admit that.”

Daryl sighed and you saw the muscle in his jaw tense, but he nodded. “If anybody can help Negan, s’you.”

You gave him a half-smile and pressed your lips to his. He kissed you back eagerly and quickly pulled you onto his lap, eliciting a joyful laugh from you as you pressed into him.

You sat straddled across his hips and kissed him deeply as his hands wandered over the shape of you. Finally, he tipped both of you back to lay on the bed and you sighed. “I wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow.”

He caressed your cheek gently with the back of his fingers. “I know. Wish ya were comin’ with me.”

“Me too. But they’ll be glad to have you. I’m sure Carol and the King are struggling with all of this,” you said.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed thoughtfully. “Ya gonna be okay?”

You tilted your head at him, a question on your brow. “I’m always okay.”

“I just mean—this Negan thing… Dun let your guard down with him just cuz he’s sick.”

You nodded. “I know. I don’t.” You straightened up. “I do need to get him the meds and bring some warmer blankets down there tonight.”

Daryl’s blue eyes studied your face. “Give me a note with what you need from the infirmary. I’ll take them to him. Wanna have a word with him anyway.”

You pressed against him and ran your fingers through his hair. “If you want.” He nodded. “Now. That’s way too much talk about Negan,” you said, moving against him. “Actually, way too much talking at all,” you said with a smirk. His arms closed around you, pressing gently into the small of your back as he held you more tightly. It only took you a moment before you were lost in each other.

That night, Daryl picked up the meds and some warm blankets and started down the stairs to Negan’s cell. When he rounded the corner, Negan looked up from his book almost expectantly, but the smirk on his lips died as he realized it was Daryl instead of you.

“Shit…” he muttered in an undertone to himself. He snapped his book shut and waited.

Daryl stopped in front of his cell and unlocked it, heaving the door open. His eyes were already narrowed in a glare.

“Daryl,” Negan said. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

“Yeah, sorry to disappoint ya. Come get yer shit,” he said.

Negan stood and approached him cautiously. The look on Daryl’s face wasn’t exactly friendly, but he simply shoved the folded blankets into his hands and then withdrew a small pill bottle and set it on top of the fabric. “Y/N says one of these in the morning and one at night ‘til they’re gone.”

Negan nodded, eyeing him like he was trying to read what was going on in the archer’s head. “Tell her th—”

“I ain’t tellin’ her shit,” Daryl growled. He jutted a finger into Negan’s chest hard. “Ya listen to me. Ya think I dunno what the hell is goin’ on?”

Negan’s eyebrows lifted and a coy little smirk curved his lips. “Daryl, Daryl, Daryl… I have no idea what in the name of fuckin’ chicken shit you are talkin’ about.”

“Really?” he growled. “Ya think me of all people doesn’t know what’s goin’ on?” He moved closer to Negan until he was right in his face. “Whatever fuckin’ feelin’s ya think yer havin’ fer her, whatever ya got goin’ on in that fucked up head of yours…” he shook his head. “It ain’t happenin’. Give up. ‘Cuz she knows what ya did. And ya think she’s ever gonna forget that? She was there. So ya best move on. She’s right where she should be and you are right where you should be.”

Negan wasn’t smirking anymore and he leaned slight away from Daryl for a moment and seemed to stop breathing for a second, holding in a tense breath. But he quickly recovered a moment later. The smile came back and he let out a low chuckle. “Come on, Daryl. Clearly, I ain’t her type,” he said with a manufactured grin.

“I fuckin’ mean it, Negan. Keep yer distance. If I hear of a damn thing I dun like, yer gonna wish ya were locked up in this fuckin’ cell.” With that he slammed and relocked the cell door, and Negan listened to his heavy steps retreat and fade.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The snowstorm had slammed into Alexandria with alarming speed and ferocity. Everyone was gathered in the few buildings that had working fireplaces.

“What are you doing?” Siddiq asked you, watching you pull on your gloves. His voice laced with concern.

“We need those horses. And I’m not just going to let them freeze to death,” you said. You glanced at Judith. “Besides, Dog is out there. I’m gonna see if I can find him.”

Rosita shook her head. “The storm is getting worse. The temperature is dropping. The horses are probably going to be fine, but you—”

Eugene stepped forward next. “I have to agree with my compatriots here. It would be most unwise to venture out now. By my calculations, if the temperature maintains its current plummet at the same rate, in the next hour the ambient air temp is going to be well below 0 Fahrenheit, and that’s not taking into account the wind chill and rapidly diminishing visibility.”

“Eugene! Don’t take this the wrong way, but screw your calculations! There are animals out there that I care about and I’m going to take care of it!” You pulled your hat down over your ears and made your way over to Judith and RJ, adjusting the blankets over their lap. “Okay. You listen Aunt Rosita, okay? And be good.”

“Are you really going to find Dog?” Judith asked, her brown eyes wide and worried.

You adjusted her hat and gave her a smile. “You bet I am. Dog is gonna be just fine, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.” You kissed her and RJ on the cheek.

Suddenly, from the corner, there was the tinkling of metal chain as Negan stood up. “Are you shittin’ me?”

“Language!” Judith scolded him.

He pressed a finger to his lips and gave Judith a remorseful look. “Sorry. Sorry, kiddo… But seriously? Nobody is gonna stop her from taking on this suicide mission?” he asked, his jaw half-dropped open.

“Stop me?” you said. You let out a wry laugh. “What the hell are they gonna do? Take off your chains and put them on me?”

“It’s not a bad goddamn idea,” Negan said. “Y/N, you cannot be serious about this!”

“Hey, I don’t remember her asking for your opinion, Negan!” Rosita spat at him. “So, why don’t you just be quiet?”

Negan was at a loss, looking from Gabriel to Siddiq to Eugene. “Goddammit, people! Hey—hey, if Daryl were here—”

“Don’t talk about Daryl!” you snapped at him. “ You don’t get to talk about Daryl. Negan, just—no one asked for your thoughts on the matter, alright? I’m gonna be fine.” You shot him a scathing look; he was probably scaring the kids. You adjusted your scarf and went to the door, hesitating only a moment before pushing out into the violently swirling snow. Your form was swallowed up into the white-out almost immediately. Siddiq slammed the door shut on the wind and snow again, latching it carefully.

Negan sank back down into a sitting position and his expression was grim. The muscle in his jaw tensed as he ground his teeth together. But there was nothing he could do now. You’d gone out into the blizzard and he was chained to a fucking support beam. All he could do now was hope you’d make it…

_ _ _ _ _ _

“We have to move,” Eugene said. “This fireplace is positively caput. Gunkified. Non-functional.”

Rosita sighed and looked around at the bundled and huddled people. “Aaron’s house is closest with a working fireplace.”

Gabriel nodded and then made the announcement. Soon, everyone was as bundled as they could be and holding tight to a rope so they wouldn’t lose each other in the storm. The first blast of frigid air was a shock when the doors were thrown open. It was hard to see down to your own boots in the white-out and swirl of brutal wind. The group had probably made it halfway when a distant barking sounded and then came closer and closer.

“DOG!” Judith yelled over the wind.

“Judith! No!” Rosita grabbed her by the shoulder and held on tightly. But soon Dog came bounding up to the group, barking furiously, refusing to relent.

“Dog! Grab him!” Judith yelled again.

But Dog showed no sign of slowing down. He dashed toward the group and then away again, whining and irritated, barking incessantly.

Negan squinted into the swirling snow, half-expecting you to appear behind Dog out of the storm, but there was no sign of you and soon Dog was running back the way he came. Negan hesitated for only a split second more. “Aw, shit…” he murmured to himself, squinting as the wind dashed the ice and snow into his face like needles. “Here I go, givin’ a shit again!” He let go of the rope and dashed after Dog, following the sound of his bark as best he could.

He vaguely heard someone scream his name as he ran, but the sound was swallowed up by the storm almost instantly. He turned his collar up against the storm and tried to dodge flying debris, dislodged by the ferocious wind. His ears were painfully cold but he kept going. Any tracks in the snow were immediately obliterated by the wind, but he could still hear dog barking, and eventually a looming dark shape started to crystallize in front of him, as if formed out of the ice and snow in the air.

The barn. But something was seriously wrong.

The huge, ancient cottonwood tree beside it had cracked beneath the weight of the snow and ice and crushed one end of the building. “Son of a fuck,” Negan cursed into the frigid air. His fingers and ears, along with most of his face, were now numb. Dog was close. The barking was loud.

“Dog! Get your goddamn dumb ass over here, you mangy mutt!”

But Negan caught a glimpse of the bounding shape of him as he disappeared around the side of the barn. Negan chased after him as fast as he could, fighting against the wind and blowing drifts. “Son of a fucking bitch—” The horses were huddled just inside, all safely in a stall together at the end of the undamaged side of the building. Negan shook the snow from his jacket, swearing, but froze when he looked up and saw Dog pacing back and forth at the far end of the barn near the mass of tangled debris. He began to paw and dig, whining incessantly, letting out small yips and barks as he clawed helplessly at the wood. Negan’s stomach dropped through the floor. “Oh, shit—No, no, no…” He rushed to the mangled pile of wood and sunk onto his knees to peer into the dark space where Dog was digging and attempting to work his way under. That’s when he recognized the edge of your coat.

“No—Y/N! Hey—Can you hear me? Shit!” There was no movement and no response and Negan launched into action, throwing debris off the pile and trying to clear a path to get to you, desperately pulling heavy beams aside, straining to move them, scraping the backs of his hands and cutting his palms. He was sure he was going to have an untold number of splinters but the only thing he could think about was getting to you. With every piece he shifted he feared the entire thing would come down on you. He had to stop several times when a coughing attack paralyzed him. The icy air felt like it was scorching his lungs, searing them with cold. But finally, he’d cleared enough to see you sprawled out on your stomach on the dirt floor. You still weren’t moving or responding to his calls. “Y/N—come on, Y/N! This isn’t funny. I’m not the doctor here—" He jostled your arm gently. “Shit… Come on, darlin’.” Negan swept the hair away from your face with a shaky hand. His fingertips came away from the back of your head slightly sticky. Blood. “Shit! Okay. Alright… Come here.”

Your face was slightly ashen and your lips were without their usual warm, rosy color. Negan carefully pulled you the rest of the way from the debris. You were still limp as he scooped you into his arms, your head lolling in toward his chest, dust and dirt clinging to one side of your face. “Okay. Alright… We’re gonna get you warm…”

His eyes landed on the stall with the horses in it.

It took a while for the horses to settle down again from the intrusion, so in the meantime Negan laid you down on some clean hay and draped his coat over you, shivering in only his flannel shirt. He gently wiped the dirt from your face. Your skin was too cold beneath his fingers. Your nose and cheeks were red, and so were your ears. Finally, the oldest mare laid down and Negan moved you and laid you against her, hoping her body heat would warm you as he rubbed your arms and legs gently, trying to get some semblance of life back in you. “Yeah, I know, she may smell like horse shit but she’s gonna get you warm.” He piled more clean hay on you over the top of his coat, shaking where he stood. Dog paced a few circles and then laid down across your legs. “Alright... I’m sorry I called you a mangy mutt. Turns out you’re a good dog,” Negan murmured, sinking his cold fingers into the warmth of Dog’s undercoat.

Negan examined your head wound as best he could, but it was hard to see in the dim light with the rusty blood staining your hair. He had to just hope for the best…

It felt like hours, but it had probably only been minutes since you’d been laid against the horse when you started to stir. You lifted your head and struggled for a moment before your eyes opened, a soft groan escaping your lips and a wince settling over your face.

“Hey. Hey, hey! You’re okay! Look at me, doll.” Negan leaned over you.

You peered up at him in confusion, completely disoriented. You felt so weak, and so tired… Your head felt like it was split open. “Negan? W—what—?” You started to shiver, actually a good sign. Your stillness before was alarming.

“It’s alright. We—we found Dog! And you sure as shit found the damn horses! We’re just gonna ride this storm out, you and me.” He was rubbing his hands together trying to warm his numb fingers.

“What happened?” you asked, trying to sit up, throwing Negan’s coat off you, still shivering violently.

“Whoa—whoa, slow down! Easy! I’m afraid you’re stuck here with a little Negan one-on-one time, okay? You got a little bump on your head, that’s all. And I gotta tell you, if you so desperately wanted some alone time with me, you could have just asked,” he said, flashing you a small smile.

“Negan—y-you’re freezing. Put your coat on,” you said, thrusting it at him. “You’ll f-f-freeze to death.”

He let out a wry laugh. “Hey, only one of us suddenly has a stutter.” But you only held his coat out, continuing to stare at him through slightly bleary eyes. “Alright. Okay.” He started to slip it back on. “But here’s the deal… We gotta keep you warm, so I promise not to get handsy—to the best of my ability—but we’re gonna have to cozy up a bit here.”

To his surprise, you didn’t argue, but that could be because you were fading fast. “Alright. Come here.” Negan wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into him as Dog shifted over your legs. He started to pile more clean hay on top of the both of you. “It’s gonna be fine. We’re just having a little mini-vacation in a fuckin’ winter wonderland, alright?”

“Mmm…”

“No, no, no! Hey! Y/N! You need to stay awake! Open your eyes!”

You fought the blackness and your eyes opened again, looking right into Negan’s. His brow was furrowed. He smoothed a hand over your hair, brushing stray strands away. “There you are. Have I ever told you how fucking gorgeous your eyes are?”

Yours lips parted and stared back at his. “Yours are brown, like coffee… or maybe—because you’re full of shit…” you managed. Negan laughed and pressed the back of his hand to the coldness of your cheek.

“There she is. You’ve always got a zinger ready, don’t you?”

Your eyes closed again. “I’m—I’m so tired…”

“I know! Hey, I know, but you gotta stay awake. Y/N, you have to fight it! Tell me about life before all this—tell me about—” But he felt the moment you slipped back into unconsciousness as your head lolled heavily into his shoulder. Fuck. His stomach clenched with worry. He stroked your hair gently and gulped.

“Yeah. We’re—we’re gonna be fine, doll… You’ll see…” He pulled you against him more tightly and studied the dark fray of eyelashes fanned against your cheeks. “You’re gonna be fine…” And he knew he was trying to convince himself.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Soft white light caressed your eyelids. It was enough to tug you out from under the heavy veil of blackness. Your ears, cheeks, and the tip of your nose hurt, almost burned, and you pressed your fingers to them gently. They felt dry and then came the unsettling sensation of pins and needles. You pushed yourself up into a seated position and glanced around at the small room you were in; the infirmary. Dog was lying at the foot of your bed and he lifted his head as you stirred and then jumped down onto the tile floor and trotted out into the hallway.

Fuck. Your fucking head felt like it was split in two. You reached a hand over the back of it and your fingers traversed a tender spot and then caught on the prickles of the stitches. Double fuck. Goddammit… Turns out going out into the storm had been a really bad idea.

But then… Negan. You suddenly remembered Negan. You strained your memory, trying to piece together how you’d gotten back here and—

“You’re awake.” Siddiq was in the doorway and Dog was at his side.

“Yeah. Mostly. I think.”

His expression was grim. “How’s your head feel?”

“Like somebody used a can opener on it,” you murmured, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed.

Siddiq produced a small penlight and moved close in front of you to check your pupillary response. The light made your head pound and you pushed it away, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m fine.”

He sighed heavily. “Doctors always make the worst patients.” But he relented and put it away. “You’ve got some frostbite on your face, your fingertips, and your ears. It’s pretty minor. But you gave all of us a good scare,” he said. His tone was almost scolding as he crossed his arms and peered down at you. “I’m way more worried about that head injury. You could have been killed in that barn when it collapsed.”

You ducked your eyes. “But I didn’t. And I found Dog. And got the horses in.”

Siddiq sighed again. “Y/N. You’re extremely lucky that Negan found you…”

You glanced up at him and met his eyes. You shifted and gulped nervously. “Yeah, what the hell happened? How was he loose?”

“Not too long after you left, we had to move to Aaron’s house. The fireplace was clogged up. We had to link everybody together and Negan wasn’t cuffed for the move. Dog came running up, Negan chased after him. He led right to you. Once the storm let up, Negan carried you back here himself. He was—he was really worried about you. I’ve never seen him act like that before…”

You shifted uncomfortably, nodding. “Is he here? Can I see him?”

Siddiq nodded and you followed him a little unsteadily into the hallway. “Next room down to the left,” he said. “Listen to me—” he hesitated. “Negan. He…”

You nodded, ducking his eyes. “Yeah, I know he does.” You turned and headed to Negan’s room, hesitating at the threshold.

He turned when he felt you there and his face cracked into a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, fuck me, it is good as hell to see you up and about. And not too worse for wear either.” Your eyes caught on the handcuffs on one of his wrists that kept him linked to the bed frame. He saw where your eyes went. “Yeah, I know,” he said, tugging on them experimentally. “You’d think after such a heroic deed they’d cut me a little slack. No such luck. Although, I have to say, it’s nice to be in the infirmary without my throat sliced open.” He wheezed a little as he laughed dryly and it quickly turned into a coughing fit.

You studied his expression for a long moment and he seemed unable to look away from you. “You shouldn’t have come after me. You were hardly dressed for it. You could have died,” you said.

His head cocked slightly. “Yer shittin’ me, right?”

The muscle in your jaw clenched. “You were already sick.” His ears and face were windburned and red from the cold.

“Listen, doll, I pulled you out from under half the damn barn. You were half-frozen when I found you, and your head was damn near cracked open. The last thing I was expecting from you here was a lecture,” he said indignantly.

You sighed and met his eyes again. Negan watched in some disbelief and confusion as you closed the space to him and pressed your lips to his cheek, your hand landing lightly on the other side of his face. His breath hitched in his chest, and it wasn’t because of the bronchitis. He leaned into the contact of your fingertips light along his jawline. You drew back slightly and met his eyes. “I can’t give you what you’re looking for. But thank you. For saving my life.”

You withdrew without another word and Negan felt the vast emptiness of the space you’d just filled like a chasm between his lungs, pressing on his heart. He leaned back against the headboard, his head bumping the wall, his eyes closing tightly. “Yeah… I know…” he murmured into the empty air. “You’re welcome.” He rubbed his freehand over his face and sighed. Negan felt you deserved a man far better than him. And quite frankly, that man was Daryl.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“She’s not happy that I wouldn’t let her leave yet,” Siddiq explained, walking shoulder to shoulder with Daryl through the infirmary. The archer was taking long, hurried strides.

“Course she ain’t. But ‘m glad ya kept her here. Thanks for takin’ care of her,” he drawled, glancing at Siddiq.

He nodded. “Of course. She scared all of us, running out into the storm like that. But you know once she makes up her mind—”

“Yah, I know. Ain’t gotta tell me.”

Siddiq slowed as your doorway came into view. “When I checked on her about twenty minutes ago, she was asleep,” he said, stopping short.

“Thanks,” Daryl drawled again. He left Siddiq behind and slowed as he crossed the threshold of your room. You were sound asleep on your side in the bed, eyelashes fanned out against your windburned and frostbitten cheeks. He stood there for only a moment before he needed to be near you, to hold you. His hand gently landed on your shoulder as he sunk down on the edge of the bed. You stirred immediately and blinked awake. When you realized it was him, you shot up and peered at him with slightly wide eyes. “Hey—s’alright. Lay back down. I’ll lay with ya.”

“You’re okay? What about The Kingdom? Did—did everyone make it through the storm?” you asked desperately.

He nudged his nose up in a nod. “Everybody’s fine.”

You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “God, I was so worried,” you admitted. His strong arms closed around you.

“S’ok. Everybody is alright.” He pulled back from you. “C’mon. Lie down.”

You scooted back against the far edge of the bed to make room for Daryl to lay with you. He stroked your hair, brushing it away from your face. His blue eyes took in the frostbite and your windburned skin, as well as some little nicks and cuts from the collapse of the barn. He kissed your forehead and both your cheeks, and finally the end of your nose. “Are ya okay?” he asked softly. “When Siddiq said ya were here, I—” His heart had almost stopped.

“I’m fine,” you reassured him, but your voice broke when you said it, and something about Daryl being there finally allowed you to break a little bit. You drew in a shaky breath. “I’m okay…” Your eyes filled with tears, causing the light in them to shimmer and glisten.

“Hey—s’alright. ‘M right here,” Daryl reassured you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tightly, kissing your forehead again, smoothing his hand over your hair as he pressed you to his chest. “S’ok. I gotcha…” You breathed in his familiar smell and focused on the feeling of his arms around you. Both seemed to diminish the pain in your head and quell the upwelling of fear that had just seized you. You looked up at him and he clasped your face and pressed his lips to yours. You curled into him. And he held you until you fell back asleep.

Once he was certain you wouldn’t wake up, he slipped off the bed and adjusted the quilt over you. He padded down the hallway to the next door. He stepped inside and Negan, who had been lying flat on his back, sat up hurriedly, the metallic noise of his cuffs punctuating the silence sharply. Daryl’s blue eyes were narrowed and piercing as they bored into him for a long moment. Negan didn’t say anything, and his expression was serious.

Finally, Daryl gulped and sighed. “Siddiq told me what happened. What ya did,” he drawled.

Negan shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Daryl’s eyes now.

“Ya know before I left, before the storm, she said yer different now. Maybe ya are. I dunno. But—” he ducked his head, his throat tightening a little with emotion as he thought again of how close he came to losing you. “—thank you. For what ya did. For savin’ her.” He looked at him again for a long moment. “I ain’t sayin’ we’re even but—I do owe ya thanks. By savin’ her life, ya saved mine.”

Negan stared down at the textured blanket beneath him, nodding vaguely. “She’s—something else…” He’d meant to say more, but he couldn’t seem to get the words out.

Daryl just nodded briefly. “I know.”

[sparkling-moonbeam]

💜Scaramouche x Reader💜

A/N: This is an idea that suddenly popped out of my mind so I decided to write it. The reader is gender-neutral and this is a fluff. Enjoy reading and have a nice day!

Oh and there are some curse words cause it's Scara.

💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜

Being a harbinger is something you can’t be fully proud of. At least, that’s how you feel upon staring at the badge the Tsaritsa gave you. But you don’t really have a choice, you can’t just pass an opportunity of making your life a bit easier. Even if you try to deny the offer, your head would be a target for the Fatui. Surviving in the cold weather of Snezhnaya is already a pain in the back, you don’t want to make it worse.

Your job as a harbinger is really simple. You seldom cut someone’s throat as you’re more often assigned in “gathering information from the inside” type of missions. When it comes to highly secured territories, you’re the one to take the lead. You don’t need assistance or anything as you mostly take the act you also planned and set it in motion. Maybe it’s from the experience of once working in front of many people, wearing a mask to suit everyone’s taste, pursuing them to trust you.

As the Tsaritsa told you, you’re competent. A people pleaser like you can read people so easily that one look can immediately give you an inference on the personality you will need to portray on your target. When it comes to finishing someone, you do it quickly. As soon as you got their trust, it was also the time to sing them a lullaby to their own doom.

A sigh escaped your lips, being a harbinger sets you in the boundary of everything. It always felt like you’re in between of opposing arguments. It’s thrilling but also confusing, maybe it’s just your morals kicking you in the guts but it’s too late for that. The moment you bow down in front of the Tsaritsa’s throne, it was all gone.

“I never knew a deaf could be a harbinger.”

Your eyes shifted from your badge to the source of the voice. The sixth harbinger, casually hanging out in your office’s couch. He must have entered your office while you’re busy paying attention on your thoughts.

“Do you have any idea how many times I knocked on your door? I would’ve thought you’ve been killed in your office if I didn’t know you any better,” he continued.

“I’m thinking about important stuff, I didn’t notice.”

He scoffed. “You didn’t even bother to apologize, how rude.”

You blinked at him, staring to his eyes. Scaramouche, or also known as Balladeer has been the one to always barge into your office like it was his own for the first months. The first time you met him was just like this, except the fact that you’re working on paper documents that time and he didn’t knocked, he just barged in. You remember how he didn’t ask your name and where you from, just straight up gave the file the Tsaritsa wanted to give to you, informing you with a bunch of small insults here and there before leaving and slamming the door.

Your first thought was maybe he didn’t like you or your impression, not that it matters anyway. Until you found out that he also does that to other harbingers, especially when he’s having too much to work with in his plate.

“You know, no matter how long you looked at that badge, it won’t disappear.”

You look at the balladeer with his statement. He stood up, slowly walking towards your table as he crossed his arms. “I’ve been wanting to ask you this since it’s disturbing my thoughts, are you really…chickening out? After being here for so long, that’s quite disappointing.”

You let out a scoff at his question, your eyes narrowing at his glinted eyes. You know how Scaramouche is, the way he works with his words to initiate tension. You won’t fall for it but still you wanted to admit how well he can cause tension and get away from it.

“You’re asking…me? What happened to your ‘good intuition’, the sixth harbinger?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled. “That’s more like you. I just hate how you always look at your stupid badge every time I see you, it irks me.”

“That’s more like your problem, not mine.”

“I hate it still, so I will need an explanation.”

“Wow, is this manipulation 101?”

“Y/n.” He sternly called your name, his eyes softening a bit. “I wanted to know if something is bugging your mind, I’ll help if I can.”

You remained silent as a sigh escaped your lips. You reached for the file you’re supposed to read a while ago if only you didn’t space out. “It was nine days ago..”

He hummed urging you to continue. He sat down on the chair opposite to yours, waiting for your next words.

“When I learned something about a certain topic, it’s…quite bizarre.”

You looked at him seriously, his indigo orbs meeting yours. You can see how his trying to listen…how his patience is slowly thinning out on your slow words and his own pretention.

A smile formed your lips. “Gaslighting. Oh, what a bizarre topic and thing to do, right Scaramouche?”

You dramatically placed your hand on your chest as you gave him a look of pity. He clicked his tongue before standing up, fixing his hat in the process.

“Fuck you and your stupid badge.”

You laughed. His visible frustration is entertaining, especially when he cussed. Something about his cussing words just hits deeply, you can’t help but laugh.

“I waste my time for this stupid shit. I should’ve known.”

As he took a step away from table, you quickly stood up, reaching for his hand to stop him. He looked back at you with an annoyed expression. He was about to slap your hands off him but he stopped as soon as he heard you talk.

“Wait, alright. I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not half wrong but..I get the glimpse of what you’re trying to do. Just sit down. I promise, no more jokes.”

It took a couple of seconds before he spoke up. “No more fucking jokes.”

You nodded. He let out a sigh before he propped down on the chair again. You sat again too as you compose yourself.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You bit the insides from your cheek to prevent yourself from chuckling. That’s more like him, you thought.

“This badge isn’t mine, dumbass.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Is it from an agent? A traitor perhaps? Just say the word and I’ll finish them off-”

“No need for violence, it was from a harbinger.”

His eyes widened a bit. “Did you…killed a harbinger? Y/n, that’s not how you raise your rank. You’re a trai-”

“I didn’t kill someone, why are you insisting that?”

He shrugged, leaning on the chair as he hums. He must have been playing with you as a revenge from earlier. What a child.

“It’s from a harbinger that’s been bugging me. Not in a bad way,” you cleared out before he can even decide to say a violent statement again.

“Bugging you but not in a bad way? What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

You mentally facepalmed, of course he wouldn’t know. He probably never felt that way for someone too. Now, you’re rethinking your decisions on telling him. Time for a more direct approach.

“I think I like someone.”

Silence.

You were replied by silence for almost a minute before a chuckled erupted from him. You shook your head as you listen to his laugh.

“You like someone? And you stole their badge because you like them? What a creepy move, are you a stalker?”

You rolled your eyes before you stand up, holding the file on your arms. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll need to submit this file before dinner time, bye.”

As you held the doorknob, you can still hear his laughter from your back. Maybe, you’ll tell him some other time but, you promised yourself. You even practice on the mirror on what to say, it’s ridiculous. Your eyes landed on the badge. Every time you look at it, it reminds you of the glint in his eyes then you’ll see your reflection, making you ask yourself on how did you get yourself into this.

“Hey, Scara.”

You turned around, his laughed slowly stopped as he looked at you.

“Remember the camp last month?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you asking me about such a horrible day.”

“Childe accidentally took your badge then replace it since you were pretty mad that day. It won’t be a good result if you’ve known he touched some of your belongings.”

He blinked. “And you didn’t tell me? That rascal, good thing he know what will happen.”

“I actually found it so here you go.”

You hummed, taking a last look on the badge before you throw it to him. He easily caught it with one hand, staring at it for a second. You saw how his eyes widen a bit before glancing at you again.

“This badge…is mine and what you said about it earlier…”

Your throat felt dry the moment you meet each other eyes. You tried to smile, forcing yourself to formulate some words your mind came up with.

“You’re making me feel complicated things, it’s unfitting for a harbinger.”

[sinnoman]

Letting Diavolo Go To The Human World Is The Same As Letting The Pigeon Drive The Bus… Do Not Do It!

tw: cursing. also, minus luke.

The Demon Prince’s fascination of the human world wasn’t a new thing to you. However, it did surprise you how much he did not know of the customs and cultures humans had. He’s centuries older than you can imagine and he’s never impulsively gone up there before?

When you asked him about it, he gave you wide grin. “I’ve only gone up there for conferences and meetings. I’ve never gone up there simply to have fun. I have so much work and it takes up too much time.”

You frowned a little disheartened that Diavolo hasn’t been able to experience or enjoy a trip to the human world without it being work related. You were about to suggest a proposition as Barbatos added on, “Speaking of conferences, your four o’clock meeting is about to start in ten minutes, Young Master.”

The bright smile on Diavolo’s face fell a little. “I’m sorry, MC, our weekly tea has to be cut a little short.” You reassured him it was no problem as he got up from his seat and walked you to the door. He told Barbatos to escort you to the House of Lamentation. The minute Diavolo was out of earshot, Barbatos leaned towards your ear with a strained smile on his face.

“The Young Master is able to do what he wants. However, no matter what he does, do not let him go to the Human World by himself and with no motive.”

You didn’t understand why Diavolo wasn’t allowed to go up there without being supervised. He was a grown man and the literal Future King of Hell. Surely, he could take care of himself. So a few days later you asked him if the two of you could to the Human World together and he agreed. What could possibly go wrong?

Oh, you were wrong. You were so wrong!

It’s been less than twenty-four hours and now the both of you are sitting in a jail cell. Your left hand was sticky, your clothes were damp with rainwater and you were sure the guard kept eyeing you up and down as if you were insane. Diavolo sat next to you with a guilty look on his face. He mouthed a “sorry” at you, making you giggle while tearing up at the predicament you both were in. He could only laugh with you as you laugh and cry at the same time.

When the guard had told you were allowed one phone call (courtesy to Diavolo for compelling him to do so) you immediately headed towards the jail phone and punched in the number. You were a little surprised that the Devildom phone numbers worked but you didn’t really dwell on the thought.

You just hoped the person you called would bail the both of you out.

LUCIFER

Sigh…

Someone get him five shots.

When you called Lucifer to tell him that you and Diavolo went to the Human World for a day trip, he was hoping you were going to ask him if he wanted anything before the both of you came back.

What he wasn’t expecting was (in less than 24 hours) for you to tell him not only have the both of you created an unnatural phenomenon, you managed to commit three felons, crashed a car that neither of you have a license to drive and managed to get caught of all things.

When you told him that you got arrested he was debating on letting you go to prison so you could learn your lesson. Then he heard Diavolo’s voice in the back and started choking on his wine.

How in the three realms did Diavolo managed to get arrested? And how did you (the one he thought was as responsible as him) allow this to happen? What do you mean you let Diavolo drive the car? He has a butler for a reason, MC, obviously hE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE—

Was about to lecture you about the danger you put yourself (Diavolo) in and what the consequences when he heard Diavolo’s, “I don’t want to go back.”

Immediately gathers everyone to go and pick you both up. Has the bail money ready to go, makes sure he thinks of everything that can go wrong and gives it a solution and prepares to drag Diavolo out that jail cell himself.

When he gets there he gives you a glare that could soil cheese in 2.5 seconds.

When he goes to bail you both and the guard tells him you both can’t be released tonight, he snaps. Immediately threatens the guards with the unholiest torture threats you’ve ever heard. The guard ends up caring a little less about his job and a little more about his life and let’s you both go.

Diavolo doesn’t leave the cell. Father help him, his patience is running thin.

The next two hours is just him, Barbatos and Diavolo arguing.

“Young Master, for the last time. Get out the cell.” “NO!” “Can we just leave him—” “Quiet, Belphegor! We cannot leave him. Lord Diavolo GET OUT THE CELL!”

MAMMON

Impressed but at the same time mostly concerned.

When you told him what happened, his face started to get paler with each word. How did the two of you manage to do all this in less than a day? And here he thought he was a troublemaker…

Then the words finally process in his head. “Ya got in a car crash?! Human what we’re ya thinkin’? What if ya died? I don’t care who was drivin’ I’m never letting ya near a car again!”

Looking and thinking for someway to profit off of this. Then realizes, as the appointed human watcher, if Lucifer found out that he let you get arrested ON TOP of Diavolo being there with you while he made money off of it, his head would be ripped off.

In a state of fear in panic for both his life and yours, he goes to pick you both up alone.

It’s not his first time encountering the police. He’s been arrested before for illegal gambles, dealing, fights and such its not hard to guess what for. He will tell you though that he’s actually not the first brother to get arrested.

When he gets there the first thing he does is rush to you and make sure you’re okay. He doesn’t really care that Diavolo is there too. He just has to make sure that you are okay. All human parts are intact? Okay. Good. Let’s go.

Then the guard tells him that he can’t let you both leave yet because you need to be trialed.

Uh oh. Frustrated Mammon is here.

Immediately starts arguing with the guard. He gets so angry he’s about to start throwing punches. That’s until the guards throws a handcuff on him and shoves him in the cell with you.

He gets a phone call too, though.

You tell him to call Lucifer or Barbatos and then Diavolo tells him not to call either of them because he really doesn’t want to go back. Suddenly, Diavolo and him are best friends.

You command him to call Lucifer though and he bites his lip. The ringing of the jail phone has his heart pounding. When the phone connects, the words spill and he mentally cursing at you.

Long story short, Lucifer is the one that gets you both out and leaves Mammon there.

LEVIATHAN

Immediately asks you why you called him of all people. Doesn’t hesitate to try and refer you to someone else.

Then immediately remembers it’s like that this is exactly like that one anime where the—

When you told him why you got arrested he got extremely nervous, ESPECIALLY when he heard Diavolo’s voice in the back correcting you when you left a detail or two out. Not because he’s of the intensity of the crimes but, because he knew Lucifer would absolutely strangle you.

Is already panicking and looking for a solution. Is trying to remember what his brothers had done when he got arrested. (Spoiler Alert! He was the first brother out of all of them to get arrested. He punched a child in the face at an anime convention. The kid snitched and told his mom, cough cough, little shit, cough cough. Does he regret it? Nope! In his opinion, the kid deserved it.)

He voices his anger when he realizes that he has to use manga money to bail you both out. How could you do this to him? He thought you were his Henry. Turns out you’re just a fish…

He blogs and video records the minute he gets up there. It’s going to go viral, he just knows it. Then he gets a message from Lucifer with a smiley face and a link to his blog and he’s panicking. He has to get you two out of there. NOW!

Simply just throws money at the guard, not really caring if you two can’t leave just yet. He’s getting you two out of there one way or another before Lucifer gets here. Listen MC he doesn’t care that he’s making things worse, he refuses to die without having his 93849281849th Ruri-Chan marathon.

Then the dilemma of Diavolo not wanting to leave hits him and his patience is running thin. Why of all people did you have to get arrested with the person needed most in the Devildom?

It becomes too late when he finally manages to start convincing Diavolo to come back home. Lucifer walks through the door.

And Levi summons Lotan.

SATAN

Mr. Agent of Chaos #1 is so proud and impressed with you.

Don’t get him wrong, he was worried about you. Getting arrested and caught for your crimes is a big deal. Yet, you managed to commit three felonies before you got caught? Love, he’s invested.

He has so many questions for you. What felonies did you commit? What was your favorite felony? How’d you get caught? What do you think was the first mistake you made that got you behind bars? If you could do this all over again do you think you would get caught? Here, let him get a pen and paper so you can tell him every little detail of what happened so he can make it fool proof for you.

Then, he here’s Diavolo say he’d be glad to provide the details of what happened and now he realizes what the big issue is.

Oh he can’t wait to hold this against Lucifer’s head. Wait, let him go tell Belphie!

He has everything prepared and is ready to bail you out. You knew he was reliable.

If you see him take a picture of the two of you curled up together in the cell. It’s for research purposes. Totally not for Belphie and him to hold against Lucifer. You can’t tell him to delete it, his printer is already making hundreds of copies.

Turns out Satan isn’t as reliable as you thought. This is because five minutes and a broken desk later, he’s thrown in cell too.

He knows he should get a call too but the guard doesn’t tell him he gets one. Starts cursing so quickly you can’t even make out the words he’s saying.

When Diavolo tells him it might be better that he doesn’t get a phone call, it clicks in his head. Who needs to be bailed out when you can just escape, duh.

He doesn’t even get to the good part when he sees his brothers, Simeon, Solomon, and Barbatos walk through the door. Turns out Belphie’s sleep talking doesn’t have a filter.

He gets a little upset after this whole ordeal. He didn’t even get to try his escape plan…

ASMODEUS

Honey, he can’t relate. It sucks to suck.

Like Lucifer, he has never been arrested. He’s been close to but whenever that happens he just distracts the police from doing it… wink wink.

He knows and seen how stingy police can be with arresting people so he immediately feels for you. And when you’re telling him why you’re in a jail cell, he immediately starts getting ready to come charm you out of that cell. Then he hears Diavolo’s voice.

On second thought…

He immediately has thoughts on how Lucifer would react if he found out he were some how involved in this. Yeah… no, he rather have skin blemishes for the rest of his life.

No matter how nervous he is, he marches his perky butt up there and goes to get you both.

When he gets there he immediately goes to baby you. Checking for any injuries and makes comments on how you’re wet and such. Then he takes in his surroundings.

You’ve been here for how many hours? Oh no. Honey, look. There’s rust everywhere, unidentifiable liquids on the ground. Ew, is that a dead roach caught in a spiderweb? Why were you sitting on the small bench they had? Do you know how many gross people sit on it too? Don’t even get him started on the smell of this cell. Once the both of you go home, straight to the bath.

He goes to pay the bail but then the guard tells them they can’t leave just yet. He knows it’s time to work his magic.

You owe him. The guard is grimy and smells like he hasn’t showered in months. Not only that they’re very persistent at about their job. Charming them is taking longer than he originally had planned.

And then he realizes that Lord Diavolo does not want to leave. Oh boy.

Explains that Lord Diavolo can go anywhere he wants after this, he doesn’t care. That was until you interrupted him saying neither of you can leave without him. He really starts to stress. Why did this have to happen to him?

Somehow and in someway, the both of you manage to convince the redhead to go home. When you get to the House of Lamentation, he’s pulling you straight to his bathroom.

BEELZEBUB

You made him drop his macaroons… his macaroons. He just got them… :(

He is so confused on how you managed to do all of this in a short amount of time? Then he realizes what you just said and he starts stress eating. Poor baby, you kinda regret calling him because it really stresses him out.

“What do you mean you got into a car crash? Are you okay? Are you sure? Don’t worry I’m coming to get you.”

Then he hears Diavolo’s “take your time” and now he’s really stress eating. Not only does he have to bail you out, he has to bail out Lord Diavolo too? Oh boy, the amount of stress you’ve given him is making him have stomach tremors.

He was thinking about getting the both of you alone. Then he started having thoughts of all the human world food and realizes he wouldn’t be able to go alone without getting distracted. So, he brings Belphie to keep him on track.

His frown grows deeper when he sees the two of you curled into each other in the corner of the cell. He ignores how Belphie’s laughing and taking pictures of you both before walking over to you two.

He didn’t bring any bail money. Like Levi, ignores how the guard is saying that they can’t let the both of you leave. Simply pushes the guard off of him when they try to stop him. He also rips the bars from the ground and throws them aside. C’mon, we’re leaving.

Then Diavolo doesn’t want to leave and that’s where Beel gets upset. He’s hungry, Lord Diavolo. He doesn’t have time to be fooling around. His stomach his about to make earthquakes.

In less than three seconds, he’s now playing tug-a-war with Diavolo. Trying to ignore the empty promises of royal dinners the Prince is throwing at him.

“Lord Diavolo, we’re leaving!” “I will let you have anything you want to eat from the Palace is you let me stay!” “WE ARE LEAVING!”

BELPHEGOR

He knew he should have slept through the phone call.

He was actually wondering where you were. You missed their daily nap session. If he wasn’t too tired, he would have gone looking for you earlier.

When you explain to him what happened there’s two opposing sides to his thought. On one hand he’s like “What do you mean you committed three felonies?” in an amusing way. Lowkey is kinda proud. The most he’s been arrested for is fight with some mom who told him he couldn’t sleep at some park with his pillow.

On the second hand he’s like “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU COMMITTED THREE FELONIES?” He’s stuck on the part on how you could have died in less than 24 hours. He’s more angry at the fact you’re making him worried about you then at the fact he has to go pick you up.

When he went to go get Beel so they could go pick you up, Mammon overheard and started making a whole commotion. You can only guess what happened next when eight demons, a sorcerer, and an angel showed up at the police station.

When he sees not only you behind bars, but Diavolo too, he’s really wishing he slept through your call.

He snaps when the guard tells him he can’t go home with you just yet. Starts picking a fight the guard. It’s a screaming match before it turns into fist fight. He’s not leaving here until he makes a point Lucifer. He’s winning this fight one way or another! You can’t stop him!!

When he hears that Diavolo doesn’t want to leave, he doesn’t care. He drags you out the cell and leaves the Prince there. Lucifer can deal with him. He just wants to go home.

When you guys do finally get to go home, he’s covered in scratches and a couple of bruises. He’s using you as a body pillow tonight whether you like it or not.

DIAVOLO

He’s so happy.

He doesn’t care that he’s committed serious crimes and is now sitting in this jail cell. He also doesn’t really care that it could potentially hurt his reputation as a ruler. He’s so happy he’s got come up here and do things he’s never done before. And he’s most happy that he got to do this with you!

And although it’s mostly his fault, he pretends as if none of it matters and keeps reliving the moments in head. (He’s sorry, truly. But when he gets so excited he just simply forgets about everything else and focuses on what he wants to do. Laws and regulations; out the window. It’s Diavolo time!)

At first you were more than a little upset with him. But then he couldn’t contain himself and started telling you about what happened today as if you weren’t there. The words are coming out his mouth so fast it gets to a point where he gets all tongue tied and he’s barely saying words.

He tells you every single detail all over again and every emotion he felt within that moment and thought he had too. And the more and more he speaks, that anger you felt diminishes. You’re happy that he’s happy and enjoyed himself although this day hadn’t particularly gone to plan.

Even when Barbatos and Lucifer come to pick you both up, he’s smiling through it. Especially when they both are lecturing you, it goes through one ear and out the other. He’s glad he was able to experience this.

Oh and don’t think it’ll stop here. He basically tries to convince you to go with him again.

BARBATOS

Longer sigh…

He warned you.

He told you not to do it and look what happened. He hopes you learned your lesson.

He also knew this was going to happen regardless of his warning. He tried preventing it, really. But no matter what alterations he made to the timeline, you both still ended in a jail cell.

When you told him what chaos the both of you have caused in less than a day, his anxiety spikes. You let Lord Diavolo drive a car? Of course he’s going to tell you he knows how to drive. Just because he tells you doesn’t mean he actually knows MC—

He’s upset with you but at the same time he feels for you too. He knows how his Young Master gets when he’s too excited. There’s nothing stopping him, he’s really the definition of one-track minded.

He tells you to give him a few seconds to gather a few things before hanging up. You thought it was going to take a half hour at most but then Barbatos is walking through the station door three seconds later.

The guard lets the both of you go willingly and with no money. You suspect it’s Barbatos doing and when you ask him about it, he acts as if he knows nothing.

Actually, he covers the entire mess completely by altering time. He can’t have people finding out Lord Diavolo had gotten arrested by human authorities, can he now? Nothing pops up when you search for news reports on the web.

He lets Lucifer deal with your punishment as he deals with Lord Diavolo’s. However, he does lecture you about it the next time he sees you. Oh, and the two of you alone together? Never happening again.

SOLOMON

You don’t get to finish your explanation before he’s laughing in your face.

Mr. Agent of Chaos #2 is so amused by this, he wants to hear exactly how you got yourself in this mess. He’s even more surprised that you allowed yourself to get caught. You have pacts with seven demon lords and you thought to not use any of them?? This is more entertaining than Asmo at a frat house.

WAIT DID HE JUST HEAR LORD DIAVOLO’S VOICE TOO?

He starts laughing even harder. The Demon Prince got arrested too? This is comedy gold. Wait a little while longer, he needs to document it for future references. Quick question: what type of unnatural phenomenon did the two of you create? Describe it to him.

He knows what the police are like but never has had to deal with them himself. He can’t be shady if he hasn’t avoided the police for a decade or so. What? He got tired of paying taxes…

He goes alone. When he sees you and the large demon smiling at you he starts to laugh again. It’s to the point where he’s wheezing and bending over. He wipes tears from his eyes afterwards. This is priceless. Please let him take a selfie with the both of you in the back.

He goes over to magically open the cell until the guard tells him he can’t do that and you guys can’t leave. He looks over at the guard and mumbles a few words in latin. Now the guard’s a duck, great. Nice going, Solomon.

When Diavolo tells him he particularly doesn’t want to go back the Devildom, Solomon doesn’t care. He can do what he wants as long as he can take you back with him. But when you tell him to help you convince the Prince to go back home, he sighs.

He threatens Diavolo about calling Simeon to come get him and the redhead is glaring at him but still walks out the cell. Great! Now everyone can go home!

So about that the phenomenon….

SIMEON

Three words: What the fuck?

How did any of this happen? When did any of this happened? What do you mean it happened today? The day’s barely ended! You got into a car crash? Are you okay?

Voices his concerns, deeply. Makes you feel so guilty about what happened today you start crying while the jail phone is pressed against your ear. Diavolo can only rub your back as he listens to Simeon thoroughly explain to you on why what you did was wrong and that you’re lucky he isn’t Lucifer.

He then hears Diavolo’s “Maybe calling Simeon was a bad idea.” Oh. Now he’s really upset. Doesn’t understand how Lord Diavolo allowed this to happen. You could have died, he’s not ready to see you in the Celestial Realm just yet! He tells you to pass the phone to the Demon Lord and you can’t imagine what Simeon is telling Diavolo that’s making him so pale. It’s your turn to rub his back.

When you get the phone back, Simeon tells you to sit tight and he’s coming to get you.

When he does get there, the frown on his face makes you feel even more guilty than on the phone. You could even Diavolo go stiff beside you.

When the guards tells him that the both of you aren’t allowed to leave, he’s super close on letting the both of you suffer the consequences. Yet, he tries to make the guard more lenient by guilt tripping him too.

When he hears that Diavolo doesn’t want to go back, it doesn’t take much for him to convince the Prince to go back home. All he does is glare at him and the redhead is walking out the cell with nervous chuckles.

When the three of you go back to the Devildom, he makes the both of you explain to Lucifer and Barbatos as to what happened within the last hour and why he had to go and pick you up.

TAGS: (sorry this is really long.. also don’t mind the grammatical errors I wrote this on my phone and actually less than 24 hours)

@beels-burger-babe

@mammonsemptycreditcard

@obeythebutler

@minteyeddevil

[tendousthoughts]

HQ Boys Thinking Their S/O Left Them Pt. 3

Character(s) included: Oikawa & Kyoutani

Requested by: @chibiiichann

Warning(s): Cursing, Mention of bullying [Oikawa], Mention of flinching [Kyoutani], Hints towards readers tough past [Kyoutani]

Song of the day: Trees II by McCfferty

A/N: First off thanks for 200- I know I said it a lot but I’m just so glad! Next, many of you haven’t seen but I have updated a few things. One of the biggest being my name I go by. At the moment I’m trying out Xic. I also noted my pronouns and stuff. Which you can all find on my announcements post. Now back to some more ‘important’ things [though this is important, this is not why you came here!]. Sorry about the long wait for part three! Please read through the warnings again to make sure everything is okay. Thank you for everything. Bye!

Where to find all the parts!

Where to find all my content!

Tag(s): @chibiiichann & @corporeal-terrestrial

Oikawa

He was at it again. Working late nights and shit. You were happy for him. You were. Of course you were. He was back doing what he loved. He was back playing volleyball. With that happiness also came fear and worry. You knew how he was. Everyone who ever met him, knew how he was. He over worked himself. He always did and scared you. No matter how hard he tried not to. He pushed himself past his limits. Even after the doctor already told him, if he didn’t ease up on the practice, his knee would get even worse. But he was Oikawa Tōru. Determined and intelligent.

It was ten thirty and he already missed your date. Which you expected to happen, but it still kind of hurt. You tried calling for the fifth time that night, but you were met with the same thing. After a few rings it went to voicemail.

“Hey! You’ve reached the voicemail of Oikawa Tōru, thank you for calling! At the moment I’m busy but I promise after I’m done I’ll call you back. If you want, leave me a message and I’ll get back to you. Byeee!”

You waited all night for him to come home around twelve thirty. He looked tired. Extremely tired and to be honest that pissed you off more. Not only did he not respond but he over worked himself again, and when he woke up the next night sore, you were the one who would have to take care of him.

Instead of bringing it up you waited for the morning. Not wanting to have this conversation while he was tired. It would feel like you were talking to yourself, and he wouldn’t understand. So you went to bed with him and by the morning he was already up before you.

You went to the kitchen to find him shuffling through your medication bin. “Are you sore?” You ask, looking at him.

“I’ll be fine, I just need breakfast and some medicine,” he muttered. He couldn’t have cared less. At least that’s what it looked like. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

“Maybe you should listen. You know, lay off volleyball practice for a day or something. Try to lesson the hours and stuff..” You looked back at him for his reaction.

“Can’t. If I ease up I’ll never be able to catch up.” He finally looked to you now, finding the medicine.

“I mean I think you will be fine. It is taking over your whole life and stuff so I just don’t want it to be a bigger issue. Like you know.. with your knees and stuff.” Your eyes are pinned on him.

“I told you not to worry about my knee, and it’s not taking up my life okay? It has and will always be my life. It’s the only thing I’m good at. So no, I'm not going to take a break.” He snapped at you. Which caught you off guard.

“It is… It is taking up your life,” you replied which made his face change.

“You don’t understand how it is like me. You don’t! I understand you don’t have anything you're good at and shit. But you have to understand that I actually have goals in life okay? You have to understand that my fucking life won’t revolve around you and how you feel when I do something. It won’t and never will. You and I are together because I feel like having you around. Because you know what, volleyball is the only thing that distracts me from leaving. Volleyball is the only thing I can do to escape you!” He screamed.

It takes a few seconds for the weight of his words to sink into your skin. But here’s the thing. You knew what you were up against when you started dating him. He just lit a fuse in you. A spark that made an explosion of feelings hit you. When it did you couldn’t control your words. “After all that practice I wondered why you never made it to nationals. I mean seriously. You need a distraction from me, right? Your always doing it, and get you can’t even fucking get to nationals. Not only that but I can see why your last girlfriend left you. You're a dick. You can’t remember a fucking date. A fucking date we have been planning for weeks. Oh wait, let me correct that, a date I’ve been planning for weeks. Not only that but I took my fucking time to work around your schedule. For you not to even send a message.” You spat out. You looked down at him, “I wonder sometimes if everyone was right. You and me. Never belonged. I’m just a distraction from such a ‘handsome’ and ‘kind’ person.”

He looked hurt at first, but then again he started it and intended to finish it. “I can see why your whole family doesn’t talk to you. You always think you're the best or something. Maybe I remembered the date. Have you ever thought of that? Maybe I didn’t wanna hangout with you. Maybe I didn’t want to hear you nagging me every fucking second. You know what? I can see why people fucking hate you. Bully you and shit. Your such a fucking selfish freak.”

“What..?” You looked at him. You told him you were bullied, because you thought of him as your safe space. You thought of him as the only person who understood you. You felt safe when he was around you. You felt understood. To use that against you. To say you deserved it. To say you deserved to get hurt. To get shamed. To get everything that happened to you… it was your fault?

“What are you too dumb to understand?” He laughed at you. Hatred and venom spilling from his lips. “Awe.. look at the baby. You should be grateful I didn't break up with you. You should be thankful because I’m the only reason you're even someone.”

Tears filled your eyes. “God fucking damn it.” You muttered softly. You weren’t going to allow him to take you down. You were stronger then he would ever understand. “You really think anyone wants to hang out with you..? Do you fucking think anyone find you a good person..? Your just a fucking pretty face, okay? Your nothing compared to anyone else on your team. You might not realize it but to be honest sometimes I do want to be set free. Set free from this shitty relationship okay? That’s the truth. Sometimes I get sick of having to take care of you. When your fucking sore before you over works your self again. I am the only one trying to keep you okay. I’m the only one who actually thinks about the long run. No matter how hard you practice in the end you won’t even be able to walk. Let alone play volleyball and shit. You know what sometimes I get sick of being the only fucking one trying to keep us together.”

“Then maybe you should give up okay. Maybe we should finally go our separate ways. I mean after all, you're too easy.” He was hurt. He just blurted out whatever he thought would hurt you the most. Which fucking worked. Before you had said anything more he had left the room, leaving you stunned.

It took a moment but before you knew it you were out of the house, crying and walking the farthest away from your shared house as you could. “Fuck..” you whisper. Did he really not want to be with you..? You should have known. This relationship wasn’t a relationship. You barely talked. You felt alone. So fucking alone.

It took an hour for him to fully cool down. When he walked out of the room he was expecting you to be waiting for him. He was expecting everything to be okay. When he was met with the emptiness. The emptiness of you being actually gone. He was met with the realization that his words were taken just how he thought he wanted them to be.

You on the other hand we’re at the park blasting music in your ears. Forcing the thoughts to be pushed deep down. Forcing you to forget everything. Everything that hurts you. Maybe it would be best if you guys did go your separate ways..? You knew this wasn’t good for your mental health. But fuck that. This was the only thing that made you feel grounded. Made you feel okay. When he wasn’t with you or practicing he was out with friends, drinking and partying. You couldn’t continue to live like this. So maybe it would be best to let go. To give up on everything and everything you loved… your everything was him. You always argued and at this point you felt sick. Thinking about it just broke you. You had no more tears to cry, with your tear stained cheeks you decided to go back. To your home. It was over. Everything you had built up was coming crashing down.

On his side he was freaking out. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew there was no excuse for what he did to you, but what could he say? You were gone already. It took a bit for him to get to the nerve to call you. To his surprise he heard the sound of your ringing phone. So you left it. Maybe you were going to come back. Maybe you will and then everything will be okay again. Maybe everything would be perfect. It was a small chance but that's all he could hold on to.

When you walked in it was quiet, but there were soft whimpers and cries coming from your shared room. Gently you knocked on the door and waited for a response. You were surprised when you immediately heard a stumble and then were met with a hug. Your shoulder almost immediately feels wet to the touch. “Ba.. Oikawa..?” You muttered.

“Please don’t call me that.. please..” He muttered softly. His face buried deep into your clothes.

You kinda ignored his response. “I came back to get my stuff. I took into consideration what you said and I realized that you don’t deserve to be distracted by me all the time..” You whispered softly. “So like you said earlier.. I think it is best if we stop seeing each other.. entirely because I don’t know if I could let you go otherwise..”

His arms tightened around you, “C..can we please talk about it first.. please..” his nightmare was coming true, and maybe it was dumb but he didn’t realize how much he needed you.

“There’s nothing to talk about.. I don’t understand why you want to make it harder on me. I gave you what you wanted okay..? You can practice your heart out and hangout with your friends and stuff okay? You can finally find someone who will fit all your needs. You and I both know that I will never be what you want. So maybe it would be best if we just let go..”

“No… please no.. that’s not what I want.. I want to make it up to you and be there for you and I want to make you happy and I want everything to be perfect. I know I messed up okay? I don’t deserve you and I don’t know what came over me today because you're everything I’ve ever wanted. I know I don’t deserve it and there’s no excuse for what I said or did… I know I should let you find someone better but I love you. I love you so fucking much. I know I’ve been lacking and I want to make up for it. I want to be someone you want to be around again.. I love you so fucking much okay? I should have been there. I shouldn’t have said the things I did. I know I don’t deserve a second chance but please.. just one more.. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He didn’t want to let go of everything.

“I’m sorry too.. you didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry for everything and that’s why I want to let you go. To find someone who will not hurt you like I hurt you.. You and I both know that I can't resist it. I don’t know why you do this to me.. pull me back.. you have one more chance… Please don’t make me regret it. I really love you but this.. this isn’t going to work if we do what we are doing now okay? We will just tear each other more and more apart..” you whispered gently, kissing his head. Your arms finally meet his back as you hold him. “I’m sorry.. but I’ve got you now baby. I love you so fucking much..”

Kyoutani

Kyoutani was the type of person most people would never understand. Not because they were “difficult” or anything.. they just never took the time too. Well other than you. You were different. You understood his outburst and such. But at the same time you were human. There was only so much you could take. There was only so much you would take.

When he came into the locker room you were already waiting for him. He had been thrown out of the game for fighting with a few people. You knew he was frustrated. You could hear the crowd from a mile away shouting to kick him off. It was harsh. Even for ‘mad dog’ which he hated to be called. He hated to be tied to an animal.. and always being an angry reck. Anybody would. But of course nobody understood other than you. When he sat on the bench you immediately rushed over.

“Baby.. I’m sorry.. You didn’t deserve that.. just ignore them, please. I know it’s hard but their not important okay..?” You we’re just trying to comfort him. But there were times when Kyoutani couldn’t control himself. Like any other person when they get looked down at every fucking moment of their lives. When they are ridiculed and laughed at all the time. When they are nothing more than an angry person.. Sometimes there is nothing more to do than be the person everyone so desperately makes you out to be.

“Not important? Not important! I just got fucking kicked from the game because of them chanting to kick me. They didn’t even fucking have the decency to call me by my name. So don’t tell me it’s okay and that their opinion on me doesn’t matter. Because quite frankly their opinion is the only one that matters it seems.” He lashed out.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that.. it wasn’t entirely their fault. You were arguing with the other team members.” You muttered. It wasn’t meant to do any harm, just for him to keep in mind.

“Are you serious right now.? Nobody else got kicked. Nobody. If they can’t handle a little trash talking, maybe they shouldn’t play a sport. I mean seriously there’s no need for them to tell the referees to kick me.” He started raising his voice when he spoke.

“I know it’s just that.. maybe you should try and not trash talk you know?” You whispered softly, retreating a bit.

“What?” He looked annoyed. “God ducking damn it. How can you be so cute but so fucking annoying. I mean seriously how can someone with such a face be so fucking dumb and so annoying?” His hands were balled into fist

“I..I don’t understand, can you tell me why you act so sweet..? Then so cold the next moment..? You don’t mean it right..? Please say you don’t mean it.” You were worried you loved him but god it was hard. It was hard to respond when your friends asked about your relationship. It was hard when they flaunted their perfect relationship and then asked about yours. Its was so fucking hard.

“Do you think I would say it otherwise..?” He looked at you. He laughed at you as he saw your pitiful expression. God it was almost sickening how much he saw that expression. That expression that nobody else had ever shown him. The one of worry  but at the same time already knowing it was coming. He loved it. He loved everything about you. But most of the time you pissed him off. This relationship wasn’t healthy. But for god sake you already started counseling. But fuck this was a bad idea.

Silence. Nothing could come out. You wanted to scream. You wanted to forget this. You wanted it to stop. Everything to stop.

“Answer me.” He punched the wall next to you. Fear spreading all over your face. Fuck. Fuck. Not here. Please no. He gripped your warm face making it so cold in seconds. Forcing you to look at him he laughed at your crying face. But when you didn’t stop for a minute he immediately backed away. He fucked up. He knew he fucked up. “Wait I’m sorry baby..” he muttered.

“Please stop. Please. I won’t do it again.” Flashbacks we’re pulling you way too far out. You were drowning. No one was around to save you. He was laughing as you begged to be saved, pushing you deeper into your own pool of your own thoughts. You were so cold. The next second you were able to move back to the surface.

Realization hit as he stepped back. “I..I am sorry..” he muttered softly as he left the room without another word leaving his mouth. Words were banging on his lips but he knew if he spilled them out everything out it would just hurt you ten times more.

You got up five minutes later, finally pulled back to reality and decided to get up. Grabbing your stuff you walked back into the stadium. Waving a small wave to the rest of his team before exiting. Confusion was read all over as they saw your tear stained face. To be honest, all that was running through your mind was that you didn’t want Kyoutani to break up with you. You didn’t want to be alone, again. You didn’t want to be just another one of his ex’s. So for the better of both of you it would be best to leave him be. To let him cool off.. for him to feel better.

He was freaking out. He fucked up. You. You were his everything, not only that but you were more than just that. You were like a fucking rainbow at the end of a rainy day. You were his partner in crime. You made him feel normal, you made him feel safe, and loved. He couldn’t believe he just put that all in danger. He just put everything on the line because of some stupid game. He hit the wall hard, “fuck me. I’m sorry y/n..” he muttered as he sank to the floor and balled up. Tears burning through his eyes. He did the one thing he promised you that he would protect you from. You became the one thing he was always scared of becoming. He loved you so much, he love you so fucking much.

You left and got into your car. Sinking into your seat you locked the doors, and hit the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath salty tears rolled down your already stained face. Placing the key in and turning it the car started. Next thing you knew you had left wherever you could go. You loved him. So fucking much. But it was hard to be okay when he acted so fucking rough with you. It was hard to stay calm and not imagine your past relationship in this one. You tried. You really did but god it was hard to feel okay, feel okay about everything happening around you. It was too much. So fucking much. It made your head hurt.

When the game ended Kyoutani was still freaking out, now moved back into the lockers. He didn’t know what he was expecting but he knew he hoped you would still be there. God damn it. He fucked up. You had left. You were gone. Tears brimming his eyes as he teammates walked in. Now mentioning it to his teammates their faces seemed to change. More salty fucking tears left his eyes, as he heard about what type of pain you looked like you were in.

You headed back to your shared place. Unsure where else to go. You weren’t close with your family anymore. You had no friends. You had no work buddies. You had nobody but Kyoutani and in turn, now you were left alone with the thought of everything being gone. Ripped right out of your hands as you're forced to watch your whole world come crumbling down on you. You placed your stuff down on the side and laid on the bed. It smelled just like safety. Just like Kyoutani. You just wanted to be held. You just wanted everything to be perfect, again. To be okay at least. You needed him more than anything.

After a night out he finally made it back to your shared place. He didn’t want to be back without you, but you weren’t answering and he didn’t know what else to do. When he walked into the apartment he slowly walked into your shared room. There he saw you. Laying in bed cuddled up in the blankets. Slowly and carefully he walked up. Not wanting to cause you any more hurt. He missed you. Even for a few hours he had felt like he hadn’t seen you in years. But maybe that was because he thought that’s what might have happened. Maybe he thought you had left for good. Maybe he thought he would never have the chance to apologize. Never have the chance to hold you again. When he reached the bed he noticed that you were awake. “Hey y/n..” he muttered softly. The silence was killing him. “I’m so sorry. I know I fucked up. I promised to make you feel safe and protected around me. I made a promise to keep you safe and protected. I broke both of those. I fucked up. I know I did. I lashed out again. I did exactly what everyone says I do. I just get so fucking heated for no reason and I know I shouldn’t and I know I should just relax. But I feel like if I do the worlds would burn though my throat and then it would just explode.. and I know it’s stupid and I know I end up hurting you more. I know that there is no good reason to do that. But I just.. I don’t know. You're the only one that makes me feel normal okay..? I know it’s not fair. I know it’s not. You just make me feel like whenever I’m with you that I’m floating. I just want everything to be okay again. I want everything to be back to normal. I know I should give you space but I missed you so much. I don’t want you to leave, please don’t leave..” he was crying again. He barely had any tears left to cry. He wanted to hold you but he knew it was a stupid idea. “I’m sorry for being so selfish.. but please..”

You never really heard him or saw him crack. But fuck. It hurts you so much. To see him beg for you to stay with him. What were you supposed to do..? Leave him now? That was never even the plan. You didn’t have a plan to be honest. You sat up biting your lip before you gently held him. “Hey baby it will be okay.. calm down I’ve got you.. I’m not going anywhere now. I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” You muttered softly. He melted into your touch. He knew he didn’t deserve it but he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Shush… I’ve got you.. take a deep breath..” you mumbled softly kissing his head as he took deep breaths. Soon enough he was relaxed in your arms again. “You know and I know that I love you so much. But there’s a line between where I can take it and I can’t. I understand you get frustrated but I don’t deserve to be treated like that. I don’t deserve to be scared of being hit.. and I know we both know that. I try to be understanding but you need to try to be too okay..? I love you so much.. more than you might believe but Kyoutani I can’t handle being in a relationship with you if you're constantly annoyed or angry with me. I think we deserve to be happy.. and if that means needing to take a break then we would have to okay? You need to work on communicating. I know it can be hard.. but please..” you whispered. Tears flowing down your soft skin again. It was getting a lot. So it would be best if you told him… you needed him to understand.

He gently shook his head. He understood. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew he was lucky for you to be holding him.. for him to even still be in a relationship with you let alone it be still a romantic one. He loved you and he knew you didn’t deserve anything that he put you through. In the end all that mattered was you in his eyes. He was going to change.. he was. “I promise.. thank you y/n..” he whispered softly. Gently he wrapped his arms around you. “I love you so much..” he muttered. Everything would be okay.. he knew it was going to be now. All that mattered was that you were safe. That you were happy.. that you were in his arms again.

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[bump1nthen1ght]

I’m Still Hurting (F!Reader/M!Orc)

Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst

Warnings: (Almost) Infidelity

Word Count: 3376 words

Summary: Your boyfriend does something he’d never thought he’d do, and you’re left to try and pick up the pieces.

Request: can I make a request? About an angst story between an m!orc and f!human. I like the idea of like maybe the orc sorta misses being with other orc women or like she can't fulfill his needs and she hears this. I like the idea of almost infidelity

A/N: Surprise bitches! I’m alive! And back with some delicious angst for y’all!! I really loved doing this request, as I don’t often write full on angst. I am also working on a fluffy request  at the moment, if some of you would like some nice comfort after this haha. Hope y’all enjoy!

Honey ❤️: Babe

Honey ❤️: Babe please answer the phone I need to talk to you

Honey ❤️: I know you’re angry, you should be angry, but please talk to me

Honey ❤️: Baby please

“____? Is that my phone?” Brynn yells from the kitchen, already mixing another cocktail for you to down. Her bright red horns peek over the living room divider, bouncing back as she grabs the alcohol from the fridge. Still looking at your bright screen, you don’t even have the energy to respond.

“____?” You throw your phone away as she peaks her head over, giving her a shameful look. Brynn furrows her brow, pulling away from the kitchen island and putting one hand on her hip. “Was that him?” With your eyes darting back and forth from the pillow you shoved your phone under and Brynn’s face, you nod.

“Y-yeah, it was him.”

Brynn sighs, fiddling with her hands.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do, especially not tonight, but I just think-”

“No, no, it’s alright. You’re right, you’re right.” A jolt hits you as your phone vibrates, the vibrations rumbling through the fabric and stabbing right into your stomach. You force yourself to look away, fiddling with your fingers. Brynn shoots you a pitiful look, you’re sure of it, even as your efuse to meet her gaze. “I shouldn’t talk to him tonight. Not right now, not when I’m like….this.” A slow, tired breath escapes you. “I’ll make him wait, just like he did.”

The coach cushion bends as Brynn sits next to you, rubbing your shoulder as she leans in for a side each. You accept it, your body like a deadweight as you let yourself go slack in her arms.

“Do you want anything? Chocolate, maybe a movie? I’ve got some leftover cheesecake?”

“A movie sounds nice.” You murmur, nodding against her chest. Brynn hums, her tail coming up and massaging your lower back as she kisses you on the forward.

“Of course, your choice. Do you want me to get your drink?”

You nod once more, letting Brynn untangle herself from the hug and laying back on the couch, grabbing the comfiest blanket and the remote. You quickly flick through you and Brynn’s ‘most watched’ section on Netflix. You need something new tonight, something to get your mind off.

All your regular comfort movies are romances, after all.

By the time Brynn comes back, a rum and coke and a carton of ice cream in hand, you’re already snuggled into a blanket burrito. She hands you a spoon and the glass, which you wordlessly accept. She sits down and throws a hand over your shoulder, trying her best to massage the left over tension in your neck. You sink into the feeling, pressing on your movie of choice.

“Mad Max: Fury Road, huh? I’ve heard this movie’s great.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “It is.”

And chocked full of shitty men getting what they deserve.

As the opening title plays, the deep voice of Tom Hardy kicking the movie off, you snuggle into Brynn’s side. Your phone buzzes again, but it’s drowned out by screaming men and loud engines. Just how you like it.

Honey ❤️: Could you call me in the morning?

Honey ❤️: I’ll leave you alone for the night, I’m sorry

Honey ❤️: I love you

--------

Waruck sighs, his fingers shaking as another small ‘message delivered’ shows up on his screen. No response, just like the last 15 texts. He finds himself typing out another anyway.

I love you so fucking much

It reads, but is quickly deleted. Waruck clicks off his phone, but it stays in his hand, taunting him. The black mirror shows a sad, pathetic boyfriend, getting the silent treatment.

He falls back onto his bed, exhausted from a day of doing nothing. Nothing but worrying and feeling guilty, with the occasional flicking through TV channels and texting his girlfriend.

It’s getting late, his bedside clock cutting through the dark of his room to remind him he’s been up for almost 16 hours now. Waruck slides a hand through his hair and gets up. He’s going to have to camp out in front of the TV, because he knows he won’t be able to sleep tonight.

Not after what he did.

--------

He had gone out with friends. Friends from highschool who he still occasionally chatted with, friends he didn’t even really like anymore. But the past two weeks had him feeling oddly...nostalgic, like something was out of place. So when his buddy Simon had invited him to the bar, he had eagerly accepted.

He remembers grabbing his coat, you sending him a text to have fun, and him not replying. He didn’t know why he didn’t respond, he still doesn’t. The two of you had been going strong for almost 8 months now, with only the occasional hiccup that most couples have. So why didn’t he respond? What made him casually throw your sweet remark to the side like that?

Waruck shakes his head, trying to focus on the movie in front of him. Now isn’t the time to get existential over tiny shit like that, not with how the rest of the night went.

When he met up with the group, Waruck immediately knew that tonight was going to be different. His current group of friends are quite different, less rowdy, than his old posse. At only 10 PM, three of the guys we’re already halfway drunk, saving a spot in line from him outside the noisy bar. The electronic music that thrummed through the concrete and out onto the street reminded him of how much time has passed, how different his usual party-scene is now, and he revels in that feeling of former good-times.

Simon greets him with a hug, the guys shouting his name as he joins them. From the corner of his eye, he sees a gaggle of girls giggling.

And that's where it started.

An orc woman, dressed in a beautiful black dress, winks as she passes him at the bar. Simon nudges his side as Waruck takes a drink.

“Dude, that chick is totally sending you the look”

Waruck furrows his brow, stirring his drink.

“What’s ‘the look’?” He says, taking another sip of his scotch.

Simon rolls his eyes. “The ‘come hit on me’ look dude! That’s the sign you need to go for it!”

“I have a girlfriend, Simon.”

Simon scoffs, throwing his hand out dramatically. “What, that human chick?”

Waruck has half of mind to set down his drink and ask Simon what he means with that sarcastic tone of voice. It pisses him off, but he says nothing, just rolls his eyes.

“No offense, bro, she looks cute and all. But is she really worth missing out on some great ass?”

Waruck grimaces and shoots Simon a dirty look. “Jesus, Simon, are you serious?”

“I’m serious! When was the last time you had fun, y’know? Everyone knows an orc chick can throw down, wild-style.” Simon nudges him in his side, playfully, but it only serves to make Waruck more annoyed. “C’mon, you seriously don’t miss it?”

Waruck should tell him a firm ‘No’, finish his drink, and leave. He should call a cab and go home, call you and rant about his gross misogynistic friend from high school.

But he doesn’t.

The part of him, the part of him that feels slightly off, wonders if this is it. It had been a long time since he had been with another orc. You were a great girlfriend, but so different from in so many ways. Is that it?

Maybe relieving the old days will satisfy whatever longing he has, and then it will leave forever. Would that be so bad, to let loose for one night?

Waruck feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns to see the orc girl from earlier; The one who sent him ‘the look’.

“Hey handsome, can I buy you a drink?”

Between the boosted bass of the music and the orc woman pressing up against him, Waruck doesn’t notice Simon slip away, giving him a pat on the back.

Leave, say no, tell her she’s got the wrong guy, you fucking idiot. His consciousness yells.

“U-uh, sure.” He stutters.

She introduces herself as Naz and says she noticed him the minute he walked in.

“Hard not to notice the best-dressed guy in the room.” She flirts, pressing herself closer and up against him.

He has a thousand little moments like that, to say something; To pull back and apologize, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he slips into a corner booth with her, purposely ignoring the texts you send to check up on him. You had remembered that he wasn’t sure how much fun this night would be, and routinely checked in if he needed a convenient excuse to leave early. You’re sweet like that.

Naz is sweet too. She's a great conversationalist, with a good head on her shoulders and an interesting career in zoology. Waruck could see the two of you being good friends.

Is that why she seems so alluring? Because she’s so similar to you? Waruck’s mind does mental gymnastics to try and justify his hesitance, his compliance in believing that maybe she has something different after all, even though he knows that isn’t true.

The two of them talk for a solid hour and a half, Naz slowly inching herself closer and putting a hand on his knee. His body screams in resistance, his stomach tying up into knots, but he doesn’t push her away.

“So, I’ve got a room not too far from here. What do you say we go make ourselves a bit more comfortable?”

This is his final chance to find an excuse and say goodnight. To run back home and forget this ever happened. But the words are caught in his throat and he’s further silenced by the nearby whooping of his asshole friends.

“Yeah, Waruck! Get some!”

Naz chuckles and mistakenly reads his seething anger at himself with embarrassment for his friends. She leans in, grabbing his jaw, and whispers.

“Let's give them a show, huh?” Then, she kisses him.

The noises of the bar, his friends, and Naz all drown away as her lips mold into his. Waruck’s body goes rigid, terrified as time seems to freeze as he kisses someone who is not his girlfriend.

But all of that stops when your ringtone begins to blast in his pocket. It should be near silent when compared to the pounding bar music, but that familiar jingle seems to cut deep into his skin and skewer his heart. Waruck pulls away with a quick jerk, Naz almost falling over as he pushes himself into his seat and away from her body-heat. Every nerve is a light with tension as he quickly pulls out his phone.

There on the screen is a picture of you, your contact name, “Sweetie❤️”, shining through the dimmed light of that bar. Waruck breathes heavily, feeling like he’s just run an emotional marathon, stuck in his own head until Naz slides away from him.

“Wait, hold on, do you have a girlfriend?”

Waruck looks at her, then looks at his still-ringing phone, then back to Naz. He nods.

Naz's face curls up into obvious disgust, quickly directing her body to be as far away from him as possible. “Fucking hell, dude. What the fuck?” She grabs her handbag and stomps out of the booth, not before throwing her drink in his face and telling him to go to hell.

He almost watches her move across the bar, most likely to go complain to her friends about the asshole she just wasted the last 2 hours chatting up, but all he can focus on is your picture on his phone.

--------

Waruck practically runs out of the bar, his whole body covered in sweat and his mind racing a mile a minute.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He felt like a 15 year old, goaded into another shitty prank just because he wanted to look cool in front of his friends, buying into their weird bullshit about humans. Was he seriously going to throw away your wonderful relationship over one night, over one urge?

Naz had been strikingly beautiful, in all the ways he was taught an orc like himself should look for. She could probably get any guy in that club tonight, but she wasn’t you. You’re different, but in so many cool, inconsequential, uniquely-you ways.

Waruck doesn’t know how long he walks before he sits down outside a cafe, trying to collect his racing emotions. He feels gross, sticky with the kind of sweat you only get after too much alcohol and too many people. The screen of his phone seems to reflect every smudge and finger-print as he swipes it to unlock it, finally getting the courage to read your text messages.

They start off normal, spread out over several hours. The occasional “How are the guys?” and “Hope you are having fun! Just let me know when you get home safe.” before dropping off into nothing. Right up until 20 minutes ago, where you send a short and curt text that has his heart dropping to his stomach.

Sweetie❤️: Can you call me right now?

Sweetie❤️: Waruck, I need to talk to you

Sweetie❤️: Are you still at the bar?

After that is a notification of your missed call from earlier and Waruck can’t help but feel  guilt stir in his gut.

It could be nothing, something unrelated to what he almost did tonight. But the notification he gets from his Instagram says otherwise. It says a mutual of his tagged him in a photo 30 minutes ago.

Waruck feels like vomiting when he opens up Simon’s story and sees a shaky picture of Naz, draped over him in the corner booth, with him looking all too happy to have her there. The caption reads

“At least someone’s getting lucky tonight 🤣🤣 #BoysNight20XX”

But what comes next is even worse; An even blurrier photo of Naz kissing him, both of their eyes closed as she almost sits in his lap.

Waruck can’t even look at the caption, quickly exiting out of the app and calling you.

He needs to explain himself.

But what will he say?

The phone rings, rings, rings….

Waruck waits with bated breath, thinking you’re going to let it go to voicemail, but you answer. There is no cheerful “Hi Babe” or even a tired and drawn-out “Hey.” Instead all Waruck hears is a shaky sigh, waiting for an explanation.

The words stay caught in Warucks throat, trying to find a way to maneuver and swing around to a solid excuse, a lie he hopes you won’t catch.

But he can’t, he can’t. Not to you.

So you make it easy for him, like you always do, and start the conversation off instead.

“Were you flirting with that girl?”

Waruck’s mind doesn’t give him a choice, the truth already spilling out like a tidal wave.

“Yes.”

Waruck hears you suck in a breath, before you shakily ask once more,

“Did you kiss her? Did you kiss her back?”

“Yes.”

There's 15 seconds of brutal silence as Waruck sits with his confession. In the moment, Waruck feels like he can hear your pounding heartbeat through the receiver.

You hang up.

---------

You hate the weather outside for two reasons.

One: You had far too much rum last night to enjoy any amount of sunlight. And,

Two: On a terrible morning like this one, it feels unfair that there aren't any dramatic thunder storms.

The bell rings on the cafe door as you walk in, causing you to wince as you pull down your sunglasses.

Thank god for the low lighting of these cafes.

You rub your brow, eyes scanning the menu above the bar. Some caffeine should do you good, at least with your headache.

But when you spot him, tucked away at a table, tapping his foot, all that aching pain seems to fall to your subconscious. Before you can meet eyes, you look away, forcing yourself to re-read the menu and blink away your tears.

You face the inevitable when you put in your order, turning to walk towards Waruck. He’s locked his gaze into the wood grain of the table, his large body hunched up and small, like he wants to sink into the shadows. He looks like shit, with large bags under his eyes and a nervous tension in his face.

He startles when you pull out a chair, sitting down across from him, but quickly curls back into his ball of shame. He looks so guilty, a small part of you wants to comfort him and tell him it’ll be alright.

You punch away that part of you with a baseball bat.

“Why did you flirt with her?”

Waruck says nothing. He looks at you with his tired eyes, big and racked with guilt.

I don’t know. They whisper.

Your fingers dig into your jeans, anger boiling up and through your nerves.

That’s not a good enough answer.

“Were you,” You suck in a breath, trying to control your volume, “Were you going to sleep with her? If I hadn’t called you, would you have-”

“No!” Waruck nearly shouts, shaking the table as his knees bang against the bottom, but he recoils once he sees the way you flinch. “No, I wasn’t going to.”

Those pesky tears press against your eyelids once more. You can feel your nails digging indents into your thighs.

“I don’t know if  I can believe that.” You whisper, failing to catch the crack in your voice.

Waruck’s brow furrows as he nervously chews his bottom lip. He tries to meet your gaze, but you seem to look right through him.

“I know.” Waruck sighs, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

There's a tenuous silence; Waruck tries to find the words to fix things  while you focus on the details of the cafe walls, examining every nook and cranny as you try not to sob.

“I-I understand if you don’t trust me. I understand if you hate me, or you want to break up. But please, please know that I love you, and that I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve been kicking myself over flirting with that girl because I love you so fucking much. I-”

You hold up your hand, stopping Waruck in his tracks. He realizes how loud he’s been talking and that people are beginning to stare. He huddles back into his corner, tucking his hands into his lap. You let out a long breath. Waruck takes the risk and looks up.

When his eyes finally meet yours, he realizes just how sad you look. A treacherous tear has begun falling down your cheek, sending a lightning bolt of remorse into Waruck’s chest.

You take in another deep breath, wiping away the tear with the back of your hand. You look at Waruck, exhausted.

“I don’t,”  You falter, but catch yourself, “I don’t want to break up with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you yet.”

Waruck nods, fiddling with his fingers.

“Of course, I get it-”

“I’m not done.” Waruck quickly shuts his mouth. “You hurt me, Waruck. Hurt me in a way I don’t think I’ll ever forget. So I need time. Time before I can even see you again without thinking,” You hiccup, but this time you let the wave of emotion hit you, full force.  “Without thinking about that night.”

A lady calls out your order, but neither of you makes a move. You sit in each other's presence, trying to wrap yourselves around the mess of emotions, trying to read the others mind without seeming too obvious.

You both sit here, in the presence of something that's been broken, damaged in a way that’s cut the heart of your chest and slams them on the table. There’s a crack that runs down between you two, inching open more and more with each breath.

But somehow, somehow, you both think you have a chance of fixing it.

[youare-mysonshine]

heavy || bucky barnes

Summary: reader’s mental health has been taking a decline and bucky is there.

Requested: No

Pairing: TFATWS Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: talks of mental health, depression, anxiety, angst, cussing.

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Hey guys, I’m back I guess lmao. I’ve really been struggling with my mental health lately and I guess I kinda just wanted to put it into words, something productive? And I’ve been feeling our angsty emo boy bucky barnes. Most of you might’ve followed me for my Oscar fics but I kinda wanna branch out and I thought this would be a good time to do so. Anyways, I know that some of you have inboxed me or messaged me and I haven’t responded and I’m sorry. But I just want you all to know that if you’re struggling, I’m always here to talk. About anything, always. So, I hope you enjoy this. I might’ve cried while writing this lmao and I also might’ve ended it on such an awkward place but, i’m still getting used to writing again. (Flashbacks are in italics)

————

Bucky didn’t miss the dark circles under your eyes. He didn’t miss the way you sort of slouched as you approached him. He didn’t miss the way that your smile didn’t really meet your eyes.

“Hey,” You said in a breathless voice. “Sorry, I’m late. I got held up.” You said as you took a seat across from him in the booth. Held up. It was better than telling him that you were thinking of just not showing up at all. In the end, you knew that you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t just blow off your new friend who you had so enjoyed spending time with. So, in a rush, you got dressed and made your way to the small, quiet diner that you two had taken to frequenting together. Bucky Barnes was an enigma if you’d ever met one. The way that you had met was rather.. cliche and something straight from a story.

You had been trying to lay off of the caffeine for a while, realizing that you had nearly gone through an entire packet of 32 k-pods that you had just purchased. You realized that you might’ve had a problem. You had been going pretty strong with staying away from caffeine for the time being, until you passed by a coffee shop and got a whiff of coffee. You just couldn’t help yourself; you bought a cup of coffee. It was when you were walking down the street, holding the cup of coffee in one hand, looking down, that you didn’t see someone walking right in your path. You had collided into what seemed like a solid wall and the impact had caused you to squeeze the cup of coffee in surprise, the warm liquid burning your hand, staining your clothes and the other person. You had realized it was another person you had crashed into when you heard them let out a low cuss.

Bucky’s grumpy self had been fully prepared to tell you off for crashing into him, having just left his therapist’s office, but when you looked up at him with those bright eyes of yours, a million apologies spilling from your lips a mile a minute, he swallowed whatever harsh words had nearly sprung forth. He had apologized as well; both of you had been at fault. Bucky had been going over his session with Dr. Raynor that morning, completely lost in his own mind, and you had your eyes trained on the ground, something that was a bad habit of yours. The shock of realizing you had bumped into a man, a really really handsome man with the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen, had made you temporarily forget that you had practically scorched your hand with the coffee, and that you had gotten it on him as well.

“I’m so, so sorry.” You said once again, quickly averting your eyes from the handsome stranger’s face. Instead you focused on the smushed cup in your hand and the stains on his leather jacket. It just made you feel even terrible. “I, I can pay for you to get your jacket cleaned, if you want. Really. I wasn’t paying attention and I just, for whatever reason, squished my cup and.. I’m sorry.” You said, kind of breathlessly.

“It’s.. it’s alright.” His voice was like the coffee that you had been drinking. Smooth and rich. It was deep, something that reverberated deep in your chest and had your stomach fluttering with butterflies. “I wasn’t paying attention either. Really, it’s fine. And don’t worry about my jacket. No harm, no foul.” He said. “You should, uh, you should take care of that hand. Hope you didn’t burn yourself too bad.” He gestured to your hand, still clutching the cup, with one of his own gloved hands.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. It wasn’t that hot. Thank you, though. And again, I’m really, really sorry.” Sparing one, seemingly, last glance at the handsome stranger, you side stepped him and began to walk away, tossing the empty cup of coffee in a trash can on the sidewalk. But you didn’t get very far because that deep voice called out to you, halting you in your tracks.

“Can I buy you another cup of coffee?” Bucky’s mouth had opened and spoken the words long before his brain could even catch up. He didn’t know why he had asked you that, but something in his gut was just telling him too.

“What?” A look of total bewilderment had crossed your face and he had seen it.

“I just, well I thought that, since I bumped into you, I could make it up to you by buying you a new cup of coffee. If you wanted, I mean. You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.” Bucky clarified, hand stuffed in his pocket, waiting for your answer. For a few seconds, you simply stood there, unsure of what to say because surely this wasn’t happening? The last time that you had gone out with a guy was.. well, shit, you didn’t even remember the last time. The little voice in the back of your head, that anxious, paranoid little voice, was telling you not to go off with a stranger. You’d watched too many episodes of Criminal Minds and other true crime shows and documentaries to know that situations like this never turned out well. However, you didn’t get a bad feeling from this particular man. He seemed just as awkward and slightly frazzled as you felt. So you agreed.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

That had happened about two months ago. Ever since then, you and Bucky had formed a strong friendship. Your first time getting coffee with him had been awkward, as were the next few times that you had seen one another. But things got easier. Becoming friends was easy. You kind of fell into this routine, almost as if you two had known each other your whole lives. That was why Bucky telling you who he really was had been terrifying for him. He carried around guilt and shame and just contempt for everything he’d done. Everything The Winter Soldier represented, and when he told you, he figured that you would think the same. He had asked you meet him at the diner that had now become your spot and and you remember how he nervously wrung his gloved hands together. You remember when you asked him what was wrong and he didn’t verbally respond but he took off his gloves; the right one first and then the left, revealing a shiny black metal hand, golden lines intricately placed.

He told you then. Maybe he didn’t tell you everything but he told you who he was and he had braced himself for you to get up and storm out. Or, to yell at him and tell him how much of a monster he was. But, it never came. Instead, you reached out and placed your hand on top his. Not his real hand, but the metal one. You didn’t say anything. You just gave him that smile that was quickly becoming his favorite. Sometimes, silence spoke a thousand words. To Bucky, you had become kind of a respite for him. Even in the late nights or mornings when he woke up after a nightmare. Or after a particularly hard session with Dr. Raynor. He had closed himself off from other people except you.

Bucky might not have known it, but he gave you the same level of comfort as you gave him. You found yourself craving his presence. Every time you were around him, you couldn’t help but to smile or laugh. In the time that you spent together, your mind was clear and free from all your worries. It all evaporated into thin air. Your mind, usually so active with all sorts of thoughts and worries, could finally rest when you were with Bucky. You could sleep. You could get up in the morning without that stress and anxiety drowning you. It was okay. It was great.

Until it wasn’t.

“No problem, doll.” He said, gloved hands clasped under the table on his lap. “I already ordered. Got your usual. Hope that was alright.” He added, to which you nodded absentmindedly.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. Thanks Buck.” You said, mustering up a half hearted smile that didn’t reach your eyes. It was like even smiling drained the energy from you. You were exhausted. Not even just physically but mentally and emotionally. You had been having such good days for a while now, since meeting Bucky. You felt like maybe you would finally be alright but.. this feeling of hopelessness, the feeling that nothing was quite right, it was heavy. It weighed you down. It suffocated you. You wanted to be alone, but you also couldn’t stand to be alone because when you were alone, you were just stuck in your head and being in your head was the absolute worst place to be.

The intrusive thoughts had started. They told you that you would do nothing but weigh Bucky down. That he didn’t need someone like you in his life, someone with clear problems of their own, when he was going to therapy trying to better himself. Even if it had been mandatory for him to go. You wanted to push him away, save him from yourself, but you also couldn’t stand the thought of losing him.

Bucky noticed the shift in you. Normally when you two met up, whether it was at the diner or anywhere else, you would usually talk his ear off. Not that he minded, he was content to just sit back and listen to you. Sometimes, you’d tell him about a new book that you had started reading. You had just started reading the fifth Harry Potter book and you were trying to get him to read them. You’d tell him about your day. You’d ask him how his day went, how it went with Dr. Raynor, though you never pushed for more information. You always let him share if he was comfortable with it and he appreciated that. Sometimes you teased him for being such an old man.

The food came soon after you had arrived and sure enough, Bucky had ordered your usual. It sent a pang through your heart when you realized that he had memorized your order, down to the extra syrup and whipped cream on the pancakes. Bucky always liked to make fun of you for ordering the same thing when you came to the diner. No matter what time it was, you always ordered the pancakes with extra syrup and extra whip cream, with the strawberries on the side. Secretly, though he found it adorable.

Today, you had barely even taken more than a few bites and that was what really let Bucky know that something wasn’t right. You kept your head down, eyes on the pancakes and you cut them up, bringing a few up to your mouth and chewing slowly, but you mostly just moved them around your plate with the fork in your hand. Bucky himself had barely taken only a few bites of the food he’d ordered for himself, but it wasn’t for lack of appetite, it was because of the growing concern. His bright blue eyes were now a stormy grey, kind of like the clouds that you see during a heavy storm. His brows were furrowed, giving him an appearance almost as if he were angry.

“You alright, Y/N? You’ve barely eaten your food and normally you finish before I do.” He attempted to joke, to bring about that smile that seemed to always fill him with warmth. He half expected you to look up at him with that cheeky little smile, a mischievous look in your eyes and say “You know, I would be offended by that, but I know why you eat so slow, Buck. I completely understand. You don’t want your dentures to fall out.” But it never came.

You don’t know what it was. Bucky asking you if you were alright or if it was simply all the pressure of just.. everything, finally breaking, but you could feel the hot tears in your eyes. They blurred your vision until you couldn’t really see the plate of the pancakes in focus. The dam had finally come apart and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You set the fork down and buried your face in your hands, your shoulders lightly shaking as you began to cry. All Bucky could do was stare for a few seconds, alarm written all over his face. Alarm and distress because he had no idea what just happened and if he had done something to upset you.

“Woah woah, hey. Sweetheart, hey. What’s wrong?” In seconds, Bucky was out of his side of the booth and scooting in beside you. You felt the comfort of his warmth, you felt his arm tentatively, almost hesitantly, slide around your shoulders and anchor you to him. You shook your head, attempting to calm down, to stop the tears but the more you tried, the more they seemed to come.

“I-I’m sorry, Bucky.. I.. I’m sorry.. I-I’m fine. Really.” You said, sniffling. It was apparent to you both that you were not alright and he really just wanted to get to the bottom of it. Or at least attempt to comfort you. But doing that in the middle of a diner with other people around wasn’t ideal.

“Hey, my apartment is only a short walk away. Come on, let’s get you out of here and somewhere more quiet.” You didn’t protest. You just nodded and slid out of the booth after he did. Bucky took out his wallet and placed a few bills on the table, paying for the uneaten food, and then quickly led you out of the establishment. He kept his hand on you, almost like an anchor. Whether it was to reassure you or himself, he didn’t know and you didn’t mind either. It was probably the only thing that kept you from retreating inside of your mind and giving in to the panic that so desperately wanted out.

You didn’t even realize that you had reached his apartment until he had led you up the stairs and you were standing behind him as he unlocked the door. He allowed you to step in first and then quickly followed behind you, shutting the door as he did so. You didn’t really get the chance to take in his apartment because he had ushered you to sit on his couch while he knelt in front of you.

“Alright, you’re scarin’ me here, doll. What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?” The sheer look of concern and slight panic in his face and those pretty eyes of his made the waterworks come back again. You shook your head, your face scrunched up in anguish. Hot bullet tears fell from your eyes and left a wet path in their wake down your cheeks. Bucky wasn’t one to pry; he hated it when people tried to pry into his life and he didn’t do it to you, but he couldn’t stand the sight of seeing you cry. He couldn’t stand the sight of your once bright eyes and cheery smile just.. gone. You eyes were sad and your lips were pulled into a frown. “Talk to me, baby.” He practically pleaded.

“I just.. I don’t.. I don’t know how to explain it, Buck.” You cried. “I-I.. I just feel like..” You let out a frustrated cry when you couldn’t find the right words but Bucky was patient. He reached a hand up, cupping your cheek and wiping away the tears that kept falling. “I don’t feel.. happy. Everyday I wake up and I just, I feel fine for like a few seconds and then everything just comes crashing down on me. I can’t ever stop thinking. I can’t sleep at night. I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling like this, Bucky. And I feel fucking crazy. Sometimes I feel like you don’t even really like me. I feel.. hopeless, like nothing is ever going to be okay. I might feel okay for a few seconds but then it just goes away.” You explained, though you were sure that you probably sounded like a raving and ranting lunatic. “Before I met you, I liked being alone but I also hated it because when I was alone, I would just overthink and overthink and overthink about every fucking thing. If it wasn’t one thing it was another just giving me such bad anxiety and.. I don’t know what to do anymore, Bucky. I’m just tired of feeling like this. Feeling like nothing is ever going to be okay, like I’m never going to be okay. I just feel.. alone.”

His heart was well and truly broken. In the two months that he’d known you, he hadn’t known how badly you had struggled with your mental health. He hadn’t known the war that you fought within your mind, and how bad it had become. You were such saving grace for Bucky; you saved him from the wars inside of his mind. The constant feeling of guilt that he fought with on a daily basis, and now.. he just wanted to do the same for you. He wanted to shoulder some of the pain that you carried, the pain that seemed to be weighing you down. Both of his hands now cupped your cheeks so delicately, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. His blue eyes were shining, looking at you with not pity, but something like.. understanding. If anyone knew what you were feeling, it was Bucky.

“You’re not alone.” His smooth and rich voice was so soft, so gentle that it brought on a new set of tears. “You’re not alone, sweetheart. Not anymore. You know why? Cause you got me.” He said. “I know what it’s like to feel hopeless. To feel stuck in your head. To feel like nothing is ever gonna get better. I felt like that in Wakanda. Sometimes.. sometimes, we need help. And I know I’m not one to be talking considering that I don’t really like talking to my therapist or even going,” That roused the smallest of smiles from you. “I’m here. You know that, right? I’m here. You got me and I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I don’t care if you have a million bad days. I don’t care if you feel like you’re bothering me. I’ll be there every time.” You two have gradually gravitated close to one another until your foreheads were pressed together. Bucky was still knelt in front of you on the couch, his hands still holding your cheeks. Your eyes were closed and you could feel his warm breath fanning your face. The tears had stopped falling but you were still sniffling softly. “You’ve helped me. Even if you don’t know it. You’ve helped me.” He was whispering. There was no one but you two in his apartment but he was still whispering the words meant for only you to hear. “Now, let me help you. Please.”

“Okay. I trust you, Bucky.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 309: Gotta Go My Own Way

Previously on BnHA: Muscular was all “well if it isn’t the protagonist on his solo journey of self-discovery, for some reason I’m unironically glad I get to fight you!” Deku was all “hey Muscular before I finish kicking your ass would you please take a moment to answer these two survey questions? Question one, do you regret being a total piece of shit? And question two, if you could do anything at all in the world other than being a total piece of shit, would you?” Muscular was all, “pfft, no and no.” Deku was all, “thanks buddy, your feedback helps make me a better hero, here’s a coupon for fifteen percent off your next ass-whooping.” Then he whooped his ass.

Today on BnHA: Deku is all “what up All Might can you believe you’ve been here this entire time?” All Might is all “I sure can since that’s literally my catch phrase, anyway how are your magic movie 1 gauntlets holding up?” Deku is all “they’re holding up fine, how are Hawks, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist doing?” Hawks, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist are all “we, your fellow co-conspirators, are also doing fine, thanks for asking!” Flashback!Deku is all “anyway so I secretly have All Might’s quirk and the most dangerous people in the world are after me, so sorry mom but that’s why I’m dropping out of school.” Inko is all “I CAN’T ACCEPT THAT” while totally accepting it. All Might is all “I GUESS WE’LL JUST HAVE TO GO ALONG WITH IT SINCE I DON’T FEEL LIKE TRYING TO STOP HIM.” Hawks, Jeanist, and Endeavor, as previously mentioned, are all “yeah that sounds like a good plan”, and Gran is all “see ya kid, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” So basically everyone in the entire world has suddenly teamed up with Deku to defeat AFO, except for the one person whose entire foreshadowed endgame is “teaming up with Deku to defeat AFO.” O Kacchan where art thou.

dear tumblr image limit: okay look. you don’t like me, and I don’t like you. but just as an experiment, I’m gonna try writing this recap with as few images as possible and we’ll see how it goes

(ETA: spoilers for how it went: it didn’t, lol.)

oh my god WHY ARE WE OPENING WITH MORE KETSUBUTSU ACADEMY KIDS.ffs we’d better at least finally get some Ms. Joke content out of this

(ETA: seriously who do I have to bribe.)

so these two KB kids who no one cares about are watching Deku leap away from the scene after dispatching Muscular. but more importantly wtf is this chapter title omg. “I can’t stay being a child” so that’s how it is huh. we’re gonna have feels and we’re going to like them. well then

oh my god he’s hauling Muscular away dhfksklfkh okay this is gonna have to be our first image because I can’t fucking help myself. look at this

just. Deku is so tiny and he’s carting away this massive unconscious lump of a man like it’s nothing why is this so funny to me. it’s like when people buy furniture, and they don’t want to pay extra for delivery and so they’re like, “I can definitely fit this king-sized mattress in the back of my compact sedan if I fold the fucking seat down, idk.” and they refuse to be talked out of it, and the next thing you know you’re watching them drive home with their open trunk door haphazardly tied down with bungee cords, and somehow it fucking works. because it turns out the compact sedan has super strength

anyway for SOME REASON now Horikoshi is all “have fun with that Deku, meanwhile we now return you to your regularly scheduled SHINDOU CONTENT” whyyyyyy

look at this. we’re really using up a whole fucking entire page on everyone arguing over who gets the honor of carrying Shindou

love how the civilians are all, “shit lol is this actually our fault?? quick, how do we play this off all casual like we were the reasonable parties here all along”

turns out all it took to finally get them to listen was making them watch while a kid got his insides ground into a pulp because of their stupidity!! what a heartwarming conclusion to this little standoff

anyways THANK GOD we’re cutting back to Deku now!! well actually we’re cutting back to Muscular who is being dropped off at the police precinct, good bye and good riddance lol

so Deku’s leaving him there and bounding away and okjdlSKFJLKJDSL OH MY GOD

no fucking way. no fucking way this little jaunt is All Might-sanctioned and approved. are you serious?? then who else is in on this?? what the hell is going on

so All Might is just WAITING FOR HIM IN AN ALLEY FFF WHO ARE YOU, JIM GORDON. or would Alfred be a better analogy here?? but like, Alfred if he ditched the suit for a moto jacket and shades

this new ensemble of All Might’s may or may not severely impact my ability to take this forthcoming conversation seriously; please stand by

also, quite the spectacular landing there, Deku. seriously lol what was that

“HOW ARE YOUR LIMBS” “THANKS TO YOU THEY’RE COMPLETELY FINE” I’M SORRY WHAT

LOL WHAT. “THANKS TO THE POWER OF THESE MAGIC GLOVES” OH I SEE THAT EXPLAINS IT

are these the same gauntlets from the first movie, then? well that’s all well and good, except that now there’s going to be more Deku Discourse than fucking ever lol. so if it’s all the same to you guys, I’m gonna once again go ahead and declare this week’s post a discourse-free zone, at least when it comes to the specific discourse of Deku’s merits as a MC, and the impact that him kicking ass and having working arms has on said merits. this has been something of a low mental energy week for me, so I’d rather reserve the energy I do have for more fun topics, such as All Might’s bitchin’ leather jacket

anyway so All Might’s saying that the gauntlets will help reinforce Deku’s arms, but they can’t withstand OFA at 100%. so basically it’s a support item designed to maintain the status quo lol. we’re basically in the same situation we were before, arm-capability-wise

homg All Might’s getting a call. time to see who else is in on Operation: Deku Alone?? or not so alone for that matter

omg

HI HAWKS, WHERE ARE YOUR WINGS

(ETA: seriously are they really gone for good?? why would he even be back on active duty then?? does he have his own American ex-boyfriend who can hook him up with exclusive support items?? dammit Horikoshi we want answers.)

looks like Jeanist and Endeavor are teaming up as well, just like they said they would. I would gladly follow this trio around all day long tbh

is this the same giant villain from the very first chapter??

looks like it to me, and it would tie in with that callback from the end of chapter 306. we all thought that was Muscular, but maybe it was this guy, and Deku left these three to deal with him while he ran off to take Muscular down

oh my god now Deku is running off again just like that

kids these days

ffffff I have not had nearly enough sleep to follow along with whatever tf Hawks is talking about here sob

like, is he trying to say that All Might is keeping Deku’s whereabouts unknown to anyone except for him?? in order to keep him safe?? but Hawks is pointing out that that’s a bad strategy and probably won’t do shit against AFO and it’s better if he lets Deku work with the rest of them?

(ETA: so @hanashimas​’ translation makes a lot more sense -- it’s not All Might who’s being overprotective, but Deku. in other words he’s trying not to drag All Might into his battles. and in addition Hawks is saying that their strategy is to take the offensive and go after AFO themselves rather than wait for him to come to them. which I’m not too sure about myself, but that’s another topic for another day.)

btw I can’t help thinking how much better this entire conversation would be if All Might was still wearing his sunglasses. put them back on my dude. it’s not too late. embrace your inner badass

DKLJSLDKFJL FLASHBACK ALERT, FUCKING FINALLY

“turns out, we were just trying to scare you straight. fuck lot of good that did though lol”

also what is this. one true love: the hospital bed. is that a scanlator joke or is Horikoshi actually that funny omg

SKLJDFLJLK

ITSA ME!! omg I love this hospital so much. though it’s sure not helping me in my quest to try and keep this post below ten images. I’m already up to eleven haha r.i.p. to me if tumblr doesn’t get its shit together

whaaaaaat, so he’s saying that Deku’s injuries were external (i.e. Tomura beating the shit out of him) rather than internal this time?? whaaaaat. excuse me but that’s some bullshit lmao. believe me, I was there

okay now he’s going on to explain that Deku’s “internal structure” seems to have been protected from the inside and out, and the corresponding panel seems to be implying that using Blackwhip as a brace paid off. huh

and also that his body is just stronger now?? so I guess he’s better able to withstand the quirk after an additional year of training?? I’M NOT SURE IF I BUY ANY OF THIS LOL but I’m willing to suspend my disbelief

OH MY GOD RED ALERT, INKO IS ASKING ALL MIGHT TO EXPLAIN WTAF DEKU’S QUIRK IS, IS IT FINALLY THAT TIME OMGGGG

SO HE’S EXPLAINING IT TO HER OFF-SCREEN, AND INKO IS JUST LIKE

I GUESS THAT’S FAIR LOL. IT’S TRUE INKO I’M SO SORRY, YOUR SON IS A PROGATONIST R.I.P.

AHHKKJH DEKU ANGST IS IT FINALLY THAT TIME OMGGGGGG

what is this soft pop beat that’s suddenly being pumped in over the speakers. I’VE GOT TO MOVE ON~ AND BE WHO~ I~ AM~~~, I JUST DON’T BELONG HERE, I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAND. also, follow-up question, when is Kacchan finally going to come back so he can jump in with the “WHAT ABOUT US~~~” bridge, huh. come the fuck on, Horikoshi

lmao All Might jesus christ

but given that it’s a stupid-ass decision...

anyway, yes!! finally that sweet, sweet “I don’t want to put anyone else in danger” angst!!

mmm that’s good angst Brent. Kacchan with center panel honors as usual, you love to see it. anyways though who do I have to yell at to get Deku a goddamn HUG around here seriously

so Inko is of course reacting with panic, and sensibly saying that she doesn’t approve of Deku’s “RUN AWAY AND FIGHT THE BAD GUYS ALL ON MY OWN, DON’T WORRY MOM I’LL JUST GET STRONGER, EASY AS PIE, IT’S A FOOLPROOF STRATEGY” plan

son of a bitch this manipulative green asshole is really gonna sit here and smile fondly at his mom and try to convince her that he’s Not A Little Kid Anymore. the hell you’re not mister

y'all are really just gonna sit there and let him talk you into this?? surely it can’t be that easy??

OH MY GOD

THE FEELS oh my god oh my god. BUT ALSO YOU’RE SERIOUSLY JUST GOING TO COLLAPSE INTO HIS ARMS SOBBING AND LET HIM DO WHATEVER THE FUCK HE WANTS LKJLJLFK. WHERE ARE ALL THE STRICT PARENTS AT?? AIZAWA, GANG ORCA, MITSUKI, SOMEONE PLEASE COME AND TELL DEKU TO SIT HIS ASS THE FUCK DOWN. NOW LISTEN HERE YOUNG MAN!!

“EVEN IF I TRY TO STOP YOU YOU’LL STILL LEAVE” WELL SURE, IF BY “TRY TO STOP HIM” YOU MEAN POLITELY TRY TO TALK HIM OUT OF IT FOR THREE SECONDS. HE’S SIXTEEN WTF WHEN DID HE BECOME THE BOSS OF YOU ALL. SOMEONE NEEDS TO COME AND TELL HIM HE’S GROUNDED

anyway sob so that’s the story of how Deku talked his parents into letting him drop out of school, and even convinced All Might to be his own personal Guy In The Chair. holy shit. this kid really went and rolled a nat 20 and the rest of them had no choice but to fold without argument

meanwhile here’s a panel of Best Jeanist trying to braid his phone into his hair just cuz

I’m dying to know which part of his language he considers to be crude here. you literally didn’t even use a contraction my guy

so now flashback!Deku is talking to Gran in the dark, and Gran is all “can you believe I’m not fucking dead yet lol that’s too funny. anyway, you sure I can’t interest you in killing Tomura after all?? no?? okay then here’s my cape.” truly a heartwarming scene

I’m kind of torn here tbh. on the one hand, my adhd ass wasn’t all that interested in sitting down and having an extended scene between these two when there’s so much else that I want to get to. but on the other hand, even I can admit that cramming this entire reunion into a single page seems just a BIT rushed. idk. like maybe someone can let Horikoshi know it’s a marathon and not a race. Deku didn’t even get any dialogue here, some of us want to know his thoughts!! but anyway

AND JUST LIKE THAT?!

how did all four of them let him con them into this. I literally just watched it happen and I still can’t figure out how. “I GUESS THIS SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD HIGH SCHOOL DROPOUT IS OUR LEADER NOW” ffflfjf. when Aizawa finds out he’s gonna go apeshit. AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON BAKUGOU KATSUKI, WHO I HAVE BEEN ASSURED DOES IN FACT STILL EXIST. WHAT ABOUT USSSSS, WHAT ABOUT EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN THROUGH. WHAT ABOUT TRUST???! YOU KNOW I NEVER WANTED TO HURT YOUUUUU

btw lol don’t get me wrong, I am enjoying this, and I’m honestly glad Deku’s not alone because that would suck for him! but that said, Hawks and Jeanist have lost any credibility they might have once had as far as being The Responsible Ones, and as for All Might and Endeavor, fucking hell lol. everyone just deposited all of their fucks in a bank somewhere for safekeeping and decided to never look back. godspeed you mad lads

[pascalpanic]

hi angel 🥺 i’ve had some time to think of what i want to request and i’ve finally come up with something ;-;

do you think you could write something comforting (doesn’t have to be long!) where maxwell is caring for a reader who is a little tipsy or drunk? the reader is the kind of drunk who’s giggly and playful. and he’s super sweet and gentle with her. maybe they already have a pre-established relationship? maybe some slimy guy is hitting on her and he gets all protective and takes her home? and i’d neverrrrr object to smut either. but i’m leaving it up to you to write whatever you think works the best. i just miss reading soft and protective maxwell yanno ;-;

Overdoing It (Maxwell Lord x f!Reader)

W/C: 1.5k

Warnings: alcohol obviously, sexual innuendo, Maxwell lifts reader so I know some ppl aren’t comfy with that

A/N: RACH MY LOVE I’m sorry this took so long but I’m glad I finally did it bc I love how it turned out! ALSO HAPPY WW84 DAY (July fourth) SO WHAT WONDERFUL TIMING!

You certainly had not intended to imbibe to the level you had tonight. The problem was Maxwell, really, although in the best possible way.

The man has a high tolerance; you, admittedly, have one considerably lower than his. You love seeing Maxwell when he’s tipsy. It’s rare that you get to see it and remember it. The times that he’s tipsy are the times where you’re next to vomiting.

But tonight was a celebration, and Maxwell spared no expense. You’d finally received a position in a job you’d dreamed of, one that caused the two of you to spend hours poring over applications and perfecting cover letters. It was a success for the both of you, you said, but Maxwell insisted that it was all you.

You’d said that takeout was just fine with you, so long as Maxwell was there, but he insisted that a bigger celebration was in order. You didn’t really mind; you love getting dressed up to go out. Max made a reservation at a nice place in downtown D.C. and kept the specific place a surprise from you until now.

As you walked inside, the gorgeous atmosphere made you lose your breath for a moment. Your eyes nearly watered as you looked at Maxwell, and he simply kissed your forehead. “You deserve it, my love. I’m so proud of you.”

The words aren’t exactly rare from Maxwell, but they mean the world to you. Having someone tell you that they love you is one thing, but having someone say they’re proud of you is a completely different one. “I love you,” you grinned and followed him to your table, lacing your fingers through his.

Dinner was wonderful, unsurprisingly. Maxwell had scanned the menu the last time he came here, with business cohorts, and been certain you would like it. The delight on your face as you scanned the menu confirmed it, and Maxwell mentally gave himself a little pat on the back.

You’d ordered appetizers and drinks, then more drinks with the main course (two to accompany the meal, to be exact), and then more with dessert. By then, you were starting to feel a little tipsy, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Slowly, as you left the restaurant, the alcohol sunk in. The drinks were stronger than they’d seemed.

Luckily, Maxwell has a chauffeur. He’d had as many drinks as you, but the man’s tolerance is quite high. He seems barely affected, if not slightly looser and more carefree. The two of you made your way outside, Maxwell holding his arm around your waist to ensure that you didn't stumble; just in case, he reminded you, but you didn’t believe him.

In the car, you snuggle into Maxwell’s side happily, resting your head on his shoulder. “Buckle please, love,” he insists and wraps an arm around you.

“No,” you whine, kissing the soft cologned skin of his neck. “You’re too cozy.”

Maxwell laughs and nestles into you. “I’ll excuse it this once, only because I trust Jeeves,” he teases you. “How are you feeling, love?”

“So happy,” you smile up at him, dazed but content. The alcohol has brought you to a state of bliss now; love for Maxwell, a full stomach from the wonderful dinner, pride in your achievement.

Maxwell nods. “Of course you are,” he murmurs, mostly to himself.

“Ooh, do we have wine at home?” You ask, sitting up and looking at him. “You need a few more.”

“No, no more drinks,” he chuckles and pulls you back into his side. “I think we’re both done for the night, don’t you?” His hands slide over your shoulders, smoothing the bare skin that’s cold to the touch.

You pout at him and Maxwell turns his face away, smiling. “No, I can’t look at that. I won’t be able to say no.”

“Please, baby?” You plead with big eyes.

“We have wine at home,” Maxwell tells you, even though he’s unsure whether or not it’s true. Either way, he won’t be allowing you to drink any of it.

Sighing, you snuggle into his side, shivering. “Car’s cold,” you murmur.

Maxwell removes his suit jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, kissing your head and smiling down at you warmly. “How’s that?”

“Smells like your cologne,” you practically purr like a satisfied cat as you wrap yourself in the expensive fabric. “I love you so much, Maxie-poo.”

“I love you too, darling,” he chuckles. The chauffeur brings you to his house not long after, and Maxwell offers you a hand when you get out of the car.

Sitting in the seat, you frown up at him. “I’m fine, Max.” Standing in your high heels, your wobbly legs thanks to the alcohol send you falling into Maxwell, who catches you.

“Fine, yes,” he chuckles and lifts you back to standing. “Take off your shoes and let me help you inside.”

Sighing and crossing your arms, you step out of your shoes, calves screaming a thank you for removing them from those torture devices. He reaches down and picks them up, ass straining in his suit, and you can’t help but give it a smack, giggling.

“Oh, no, little miss,” Maxwell playfully chides and grabs your arm. “Let’s get you inside, tiger.”

Your legs lead your brain without any thought, drunkenly stumbling your way inside. Maxwell’s arms are your support, really the only thing to keep you from falling. He purposely steers you away from the path leading to the kitchen, knowing you’ll ask for more alcohol should you see it. When you reach the foot of the stairs, you groan and look at Maxwell with puppy eyes. You know his back has been bad lately, his joints ache when the humidity rises, but you can’t do this without him. “Can you carry me? Please?” You ask him.

Maxwell chuckles and kisses your head tenderly. “I suppose. Climb on my back.” He stands with his palms the wall, squatting for you to jump up on him.

The formal dress makes it difficult, but you hop up, both of you groaning as you latch onto him. “I love you so goddamn much,” you babble happily, kissing along the skin behind his ears.

“You’re lucky I love you too,” he grunts as he makes his way up the stairs, his knees aching from the weight of carrying absolutely anything on his back.

When he reaches the top, you get down and sigh, kissing him sloppily. “You’re the best.”

“I’m wonderful,” he sighs and rolls his eyes, leading you to the bedroom and letting you plop down on his plush California king bed.

You strip off his suit jacket and toss it at him, and he catches it without even looking. “Don’t even think about seducing me tonight, darling. You’re too far gone,” he chuckles.

His words make you frown and stop in the middle of unzipping your dress slowly. “I wasn’t gonna,” you grumble and stand, slipping out of the dress and getting under the thick covers of the bed.

“Sure,” Maxwell smiles and retreats into his large closet. He returns in pajama pants and the white tee he wore under his button-up.

He looks so soft like this, and even drunk, you recognize what a privilege it is to see him like this. His large suits hide his frame, but you can see the soft curve of his tummy, his broad shoulders and narrow torso. “We should get married,” you blurt to him, your heart-eyes penetrating through to his center.

“You’re drunk,” he shakes his head as he wanders to the bathroom. He returns with his thick-rimmed glasses on, and it completes the look, his highlighted hair messy and beginning to curl.

He sits on his side of the bed and hands you a glass of water and some painkillers. “You’re going to feel like shit in the morning, and you’re not allowed to blame me.”

“I won’t,” you pout and take the pills, rolling onto your side to face him. His legs are beneath the covers, and one of yours snakes to his and wraps your ankle around his.

Max smiles softly at the gesture. He recognizes it. You need his touch, want to snuggle tonight rather than keep to your own in his spacious bed. He lies down and you quickly scoot over to him, resting your head and a palm on his chest.

“I love you, dear,” he murmurs and kisses your forehead, his hand stroking your back lovingly. “You sleep now. Please.”

“I want to cuddle a little longer,” you frown and look up at him, face barely peeking out from the covers.

Max laughs. “Of course. We’ll stay like this, but at least make an effort to fall asleep. Your headache in the morning will be better if you sleep more.”

“Fine,” you sigh and scoot your body as close to his as possible, kissing his chest through the plain white t-shirt. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he repeats and sets his glasses to the side, letting himself sink into the squishy bed. He’ll surely have to care for you in the morning too, but he doesn’t mind. It’s worth it.

-

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